#why do i date the shittiest men | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

agendabymooner · 9 months

Text

odds || pg10 fic

“I’m never giving up against all odds.”

pierre gasly x ofc (88rising!singer!ofc)

EXTENSION TO NEWSFLASH (SEQUEL OF) AND LOWKEY (PREQUEL OF)

Summary: Her songs told a story about how her courtship with Pierre Gasly went and ended in a happy note. OR their timing wasn't always right— that was what she thought as she continued to think that their situationship’s downfall would happen sooner or later.

Content warning: Based on Niki’s EP, wanna take this downtown. No specific date is used for the release of her music. Use of explicit language, situationship scenarios, miscommunication, OFC being set up, Pierre being a dry texter, only uses a partner’s name (nothing too personal- just a passing comment), a bit angst but has a happy ending (?), indented texts are lyrics

Note: I’m not sure if my taglist would like to read this but I’m adding them into the list just in case :)) enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

This has got to be a joke. The universe fuckin’ hates my guts. Remindin’ me ‘U’ and ‘I’ don’t spell ‘us.’

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Heeeey!!! My brain is soooo fried today and Brian decided to fuck up my computer. Now I’m just here doing nothing but hope that my dear tech works in the next hour. Sent at 10:21 PM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): How r u??? I hope you’re not training too hard and you’re hydrating :) Sent at 10:25 PM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Good morning, Ens. Have 2 train sadly ttyl ;) Sent at 8:31 AM

Well wasn’t that fucking sad, Ensley huffed out quietly to herself as she wished to throw her phone against the wall. They’ve been in what… two dates?

Well, two in-person dates and three unofficial FaceTime dates with shitty takeouts in front of them. Not that she counted; she could have sworn she did not like him that much.

She wasn’t sure who she was lying to more, though. But just as she continued to deny that she hadn’t looked at her phone every thirty seconds, she was feeling more pathetic.

What was it about men and why did she continue to give them all a chance? All they do was fuck it up and Ensley was going insane at the thought that the cycle of being with the shittiest men ever wasn’t broken.

“All I know is suddenly without you, the bed feels too big… That’s good. Good job Henny.”

“Trying to find where your head is but I’m losing myself in the process— no wait, tryna,” she muttered to herself before scratching out the first word of her chorus.

She thought that songwriting was a way to distract herself from the Pierre fiasco. Everyone said so, as well. They thought that if she kept her head straight she’d be able to think of inspiration and clearly they were right.

Her friends, Brian and Joji, were laughing at the fact that the said inspiration was the same person they tried to distract her from.

Pierre Gasly. The man who continued to travel as the Formula One season went on while Ensley remained in Los Angeles. Pierre was the man that the Indonesian woman had been thinking about day after day, his charming personality filling that empty space in her head after he asked if she’d be more than willing to take their relationship to the next level.

He did warn her about his busy schedule, which Ensley was grateful for. What he hadn’t told her, though, was that he’d eventually drive her insane because of the lack of texts he’d send as time went on— all thanks to his schedule.

The first month of their situationship was great. He managed to call her and asked if she had supper or whatever meal it was she had to eat in her time zone. He’d often eat his food just as she’d munch on whatever she had that day— sharing conversations while they took a break from whatever the fuck they were doing.

Hell, Ensley also managed to take the international railways to Rome to meet with him. They were getting along so well that she cuddled with him in his bed twice.

But in the second month? Fuck, she wasn’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was because it’s the last month of the racing season and everybody’s scrambling to make their way up to the World Driver’s Championship rankings— that included the Frenchman.

She could understand how busy it is for Pierre and she did what she could to not hover around him. But she was missing him terribly— him and his sex jokes and his never ending storytelling. What could she do? Nothing. She didn’t have any form of label but a situationship with him.

“You come see me only when I ask first. When you kiss me— do you wish it were her?”

“—That’s bullshit,” Brian exclaimed as he stood by the oven of Ensley’s open kitchen. Ensley glared at him, and her friend (Brian’s girlfriend) Vanntey smacked him lightly as a warning. Brian gave his girlfriend a questioning look and stated, “Boy Baguette didn’t even kiss her yet! Henny, don’t put that in if this song is about Pierre. That’s just full on delusional.”

“Who says it’s about him?” Vanntey asked with a scoff before telling Ensley, “Henny— your song, not Brian’s. Do whatever the hell you want.”

“At least someone’s sensible enough,” Ensley murmured before turning back to her notepad. Her Twitter notification, one that she intentionally left opened, made a noise as she glanced down at the “related tweet” notification. The post and the responses that came with it were… baffling to say the least.

We share different postal codes Maybe that’s why I never got the memo; She’s the real deal, and I was just a pretty demo.

ensleygaslysoz: y’all— pierre’s ex was at the paddock today 😭😭

peargaslit: nooooo~ YOU CANNOT SAY THAT!!! IM ROOTING FOR HIM AND HENNY!!!

misskikagasly: ok but they were cute as hell b4 tho 🫠 no h8 to ensley but kika was the shit and i think they should get back together

Ensley’s shoulders slumped at the comments. God’s timing was always wrong, and she’s never hated anything more than the fact that she was actually besotted and in love with Pierre Gasly.

And chances are that he was just waffling about taking their relationship to another level. Men lied to Ensley endlessly, and if she didn’t know any better— she would’ve fallen harder than she did with him.

And yet my world remains the whole of you to this day. Doesn’t matter what my location says. I’m always tryna get to you.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you going to be in London sometime soon? I will be back in Milan and I’d like to stay in with you :) Text me when you get this Sent at 12:31 AM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Can’t. Sorry— Still in the process of producing an EP :) looking forward to chatting soon Sent at 12:32 AM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Likewise. Sent at 2:01 AM

When I'm there, you're not You're here, I'm caught up with my job And your clingy ex comes back a lot Then she leaves and you shoot your shot But there's someone new I've got

The 88rising studio was where she stayed most of the time now. With the record label releasing an album with their artists, Ensley’s time was taken up by her work as she continued to produce four songs with them.

That and her own EP took up her entire schedule, thus furthering her communication line with the Alpine driver.

So much for a good situationship.

“You wrote this song, Hen,” Isaac — one of the songwriters — told her with a shrug, “he lives in Milan, right? Instead of, I mean, Manhattan’s nice, why don’t you put, Milan is nice?”

“They have good sunsets in NY,” she murmured quietly. “Look— let’s not talk about him. He’s got his business— this is mine.”

“Your EP so far shows that you’re writing about him,” Isaac replied. “By the way, you’ve got one more to write if you want to have four tracks.”

“Eventually,” Ensley responded with a wave, her shoulders sagging before her sight moved from the screen of her laptop to the door that swung open.

Brian walked in with a shit-eating grin, he was followed by Jackson Wang who carried, Ensley could’ve sworn, the biggest bouquet that could’ve ever existed. And just as Jackson walked towards her with a huge smile, her eyes scanned the set and the white card that contrasted with it.

Dahlias and daisies. She never even mentioned it to anyone before.

Then she remembered a conversation she had about flower markets. She loved Los Angeles, but she couldn’t help but swoon over those Pinterest boards full of flower markets in Italy.

She tried to romanticize her life in the UK before, but when she flew out to Milan once to see the beauty of it? Nothing could compare to Italy. She remembered telling Pierre that— how she’d kill to have the prettiest flowers in her flat that came straight from the market.

“What kind of flowers do you like, then?” Pierre asked, amused at the sight of her swooning as she continued to squeal at the photo.

“If I were to get my photos taken like this? Ugh,” Ensley grinned from ear to ear, “daisies? There’s just something about daisies that makes me think of I dunno… summer? I love the sun— I’m sure you can understand that. You live in Milan.”

“I do.”

“And what else? Huh… Dahlia!” Ensley exclaimed. “It’s just a nice name, no?”

“I agree,” Pierre said thoughtfully before repeating the word, “dahlia, dahlia, dahlia… It’s a pretty name, indeed.”

À la plus jolie fille, was intricately written on the envelope as her stomach fluttered at the name. He always called her that for whatever reason, and she eventually learned why.

“Pretty girl,” Ensley translated the writing as she thanked Jackson, holding the bouquet before placing it down on the table. Her hand eventually grabbed onto the card and pulled out the letter. She didn’t care about her friends as they watched her expectantly.

Her eyes remained on the letter.

“My Collette,

This is not bought to make up for my absence, but to remind you that you are as cherished as the bright flowers in this bouquet. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, ma jolie fille.

While I cannot speak to you, I’ll continue to think about you.

XO,

Your Linguini.”

“Your— your Linguini?!” Jackson gasped from behind her, making her turn around as she watched Brian wheeze in laughter.

The glare that she gave the two left Jackson to shut his mouth and Brian to continue his teasing. Regardless of what the singer just watched, Jackson shook himself out of his thoughts and asked, “Are you gonna text him?”

But she already did. Long before Jackson could even comment.

Her eyes scanned on the text message she sent Pierre, knowing full well that he wouldn’t text back a minute or so later.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): They’re the prettiest. Thank you, Remy ❤️ Sent at 3:21 PM.

'Cause I know you've got somebody My friends say I could have anybody now that I'm somebody But I don't care if I'm nobody to you, oh

She sighed, not knowing if it was out of contention or sadness. All she was getting from him so far was mixed messages, with him having his ex in the paddock and sending the flowers.

He seemed to be happy to be around his ex, and she was still nobody to him but some person he wasn’t really in a relationship with.

Maybe she should try to shift her attention away from him. Maybe she wouldn’t think a lot about him that way.

And that was what she did. She stayed in London for a week or so after her other single with 88rising, La La Lost You, was released. She hung out with Will Lenney and his mates.

She found herself sitting between Harry Lewis (or Wroetoshaw for those he didn’t know well) and Becky James. Harry was newly single and everyone tried to set him up with anyone with a pair of boobs; Ensley was sadly the newest target of their interest.

But between the two of them, Ensley and Harry’s “not so friendly” interactions were nothing but banters. They wouldn’t hesitate to tell each other that they’d kiss each other on the mouth but they wouldn’t dare let their jokes go as far as touching each other with a ten-foot pole.

Regardless, everyone tried to root for them and getting too drunk meant trouble. Everyone saw what they wanted to see, immediately pulling their phones out to make a post or more about the two as Ensley and Harry cuddled up in the booth.

“Why do you let the bloody idiot win, Ens?” Harry whined against the ear of the singer, ranting about Pierre as the Guernsey man continued, “I saw the tweets you know? You’re as much of a somebody as he is— don’t let the bloody cunt ruin your life.”

“Too late, Harold,” Ensley slurred, sipping on her third sangria of the night. She and Harry didn’t even notice Becky nor their other friend Callum recording their interaction in the background, for the two of them were busy bitching to each other. “He’s ruined me- as in ruined me the moment I went to the bloody Grand Prix in Singapore. In a good way though!”

“Ruin you in a good way,” Harry scoffed, his hand rubbing her back for comfort as he continued, “You’re writing about him. Your fuckin’ EP is all about him— it’s only reserved for those bastards who broke your heart obviously he’s one of them!”

“No, they’re really not,” Ensley snorted, “my songs are not all about heartbreak nor friends with benefits I fall in love with.”

“Then name one song about loving then.”

I know it's pathetic but I couldn't care less I'd wait until the stars uncross and say yes I'll always try to get you

Silence.

Harry’s drunken state continued to be a factor in his calling out as he raised a brow, “See? You’re a bad fucking liar, Ensley. You love him and you’re yearning— I can see it on your bloody face. So now you’re writing about how much he’s letting you down.”

She pouted in annoyance and slumped against his chest. Pierre didn’t even know how much she yearned for him. At the wrong time, while you’re at it. But she didn’t care.

It’s been nearly a week since they last spoke, and their messages consist of nothing but dry responses and simple check-ins. Was it to ensure that the hope for a successful relationship remains intact or to actually make sure that they still had each other to talk to and that they hadn’t gone and talked to other people? Ensley wasn’t sure.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): What are we? Like… really?

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Whatever you would like us to be. And hello too?

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hi. And really? We kept on saying that we’d be making plans but they never happened. It’s like I dunno. We’re avoiding each other because we’re always busy.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I know I have to make the effort to come by sometimes, but then… How would you even the odds? I really don’t make an excuse when it comes to heading to London just to take the railways and see you.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I’m not even mad. I’m just saying that my time and heart are yours should they be available. Break my heart as much as you’d like but try to even out these odds— without girls trying to waste your time and mine.

The next day she had woken up with an infuriating headache. Thanks to the sangrias she had and Sambuca shots she was handed, she wasn’t able to get in touch with Pierre as early as she could.

She could, however, strangle Will and the rest of their group for posting those cutesy pictures of herself and Harry while the pair were chatting shit about whatever. Everyone now thought that they were seeing each other.

“WroetoSoleil? Harry, I'm begging you to bag her already!!!” Said one tweet.

“This is a sign that the friends-to-lovers trope is real.”

“Pierre, where you at? Ensley’s being won over by W2S now!”

“I still have some faith in Pierre and Ensley, tbh.”

And to be honest, Ensley was still faithful to the two of them too. It’s only a matter of time before she begins to shift to someone else if neither of them makes a move.

Well… she already made hers. It was his game to play now.

She tried to get on with her day after getting too drunk with her friend’s mates. Her flat in London was surprisingly less than dusty despite being untouched for a while. She supposed that’s what happened when she allowed Will and the other lots to occupy her place whilst she lived in LA.

Then her attention diverted to her notes, writing down lyrics as she sipped on her homemade tea.

She hadn’t even realized that she had Pierre muted — out of annoyance — until her phone began to go off. She peered down only to see an unknown number FaceTiming her.

But it said Monaco at the bottom of the number. She could assume that…

“W- oi! Hello!”

Never in my damn favour I don’t want you for later Never was much of a waiter.

She was right. It was Lando and a certain Monegasque. This number was Charles Leclerc’s and she was subjected to some bullshit that they were up to.

“I’m ending the call—“

“Wait- no! Henny, don’t! We have to talk,” Charles started. They weren’t even close yet he called her Henny. Whatever he was trying to say, he was desperate to get it out before she could end her call.

She sat her phone on the coffee table and crossed her arms, watching the two men scramble as they both sat down.

“We heard about what happened with you and Pierre,” Lando started. “Like how you two haven’t spoken properly and all that…?”

Ensley stared back at them, making the two sigh. They wouldn’t be able to get something out of her and so Charles went on, “He saw that picture and video of you and that guy… What's his name— Harry? Yeah, he saw it and he’s basically just… pouting and all that.”

“Long story short, there’s a lot of miscommunication going on between the two of you,” Lando cut off the Monegasque. “I know you’d never date Harry and we all know that Pierre’s not seeing his ex. The two of you right now are misunderstanding each other— just talk, please. Both of you are sulking and we’re all sick of you two being lovesick and shit.”

“It’s not that easy, you bastard,” Ensley swore, flipping off Lando as she grumbled, “Every time I’m available, he isn’t. Whenever I’m not, he’s coming around asking me to travel to Italy as if I have the money to travel with. I’m not as well off as you guys— and clearly, he isn’t making the same effort as me!”

“How? He’s sent you a lot of flowers,” Charles pointed out. Ensley smothered her face in the cushion and screamed before she turned back to look at her screen with a grim smile.

“You’ve obviously no concept of making an effort without using a material, and it shows,” Ensley snarked.

“It’s just… he’s never asked me if he can stay over in my flat in London before,” she sighed, “it’s always me who has to adjust. I do appreciate it but at the same time… what about me? What if I can’t make it there and he’s still available? Will it stay like that? Just me hoping for some miracle that he’d come by? It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just tiring having to work hard only to end up with nada.”

Lando and Charles shared a worried look. Clearly, they didn’t understand her side of the story until now. It wasn’t as if she was painted as a bad person— they genuinely didn’t know how she and Pierre spoke and how the duo treated each other.

“I’m just so ready to say, ‘Yes, be my boyfriend like I’m begging’ but he’s not there all the time for me to answer it!” Ensley exclaimed in frustration, crossing her arms in annoyance as she slumped against the couch.

“French boy—“

“I’m Monegasque—“

“Monaco boy, tell your best friend that he’s a piece of shit for making me feel like this—“ Ensley said. “God I just want to see him but at the same time I don’t—!”

“Why?”

“Because I know he wouldn’t even these odds no matter how much he wants to,” Ensley chuckled humourlessly. “I don’t even know if he wants to.”

But I’d wait on you to drink you in

Lando almost glanced in front of them, only nodding along at Ensley’s rants. Meanwhile, Charles stared at Pierre with a raised brow.

The Frenchman sighed silently.

He really didn’t want to mess this chance up, but it was too bad some things didn’t like to go in his favour.

Even the odds, indeed.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hello mon amour, are you still in London? Sent at 8:21 AM.

To Pesky Pierre: Yes… why? Sent at 8:22 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you off to somewhere else today? Sent at 8:22 AM.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I— why are you being so cryptic? But no, I’m just staying in. 8:23 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Okay. See you in half an hour :)

When I'm there you should, I don't know, like, call up your boss Probably take the day off Maybe we could change the odds!

Ensley Zara Soleil was never the one for surprises. She loathed them so bad.

But if surprises came in the form of an Alpine driver often then she was willing to welcome it with open arms. Pierre Gasly stood in front of her flat with a bouquet of dahlias and daisies in hand, his smile brightening her day immediately as Ensley smiled like a fool.

She’s never felt this great over a man for a long time.

“I’m here to even the odds,” Pierre told her with a grin before it fell into a serious expression as he said, “I’m really sorry if I haven’t tried to do it before. I was the one who pursued you first and I should’ve tried harder—“

“Shh…”

“Pardon?” Pierre gave Ensley a puzzled look.

And rather than telling to shush once more, Ensley gave him a wide grin and took the bouquet from his hand. The confused look remained on Pierre’s face for a brief moment as she inhaled the scent of the flowers.

“You’re here now, P,” Ensley told him. “I was wondering what you meant by your text but I’ve been expecting you… for a good while.”

Pierre’s confusion was replaced by a wide smile, pushing his shoulders back as he said, “So… where can I start?”

Ensley smiled and stepped aside, allowing him to enter her flat as she said, “Come in and have a cuppa. We’ve got a lot of things to catch-up on.”

Don't care how long it takes, My heart is yours to break I'm never giving up against all odds

fin.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico

#pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly au #pierre gasly fanfic #pg10 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly fic #formula one fluff #formula one fic #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #f1 fanfic #formula one hurt/comfort #formula 1

69 notes · View notes

thecutestmancardoorhookhand · 2 years

Conversation

POV: A random goth showed up to class and recited one line from a Shakespeare play and now your history teacher is having a meltdown

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE?

STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE GOD DAMN FOOL SHITTY PLAY COMPOSER DUST EATING RAT OLD BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT AVATAR OF THE WHORE BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF TOWN COWBOY MOTHERFUCKING WILLIAM SHAXBEARD

STOP ASKING ME TO TALK ABOUT WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE I HATE HIM SO MUCH WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY FUCKED UP GOOD PLAYS WHY DID HE DECIDE TO FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT JUST SET THEM LOOSE DID HE SELL HIS SOUL DID THEY FUCK MAN HAS SUCH A VISCERAL AFFECT ON ME NOT EVEN IN THE ROOM NEVER TALKED TO THIS MAN AND I KNOW HE HAD THE WORLDS SHITTIEST LAUGH GET AWAY FROM ME

if i ever decided I do want to die and Death said william shakespeare was waiting in the sunless lands i would piss on Death's feet for the sole purpose of getting sent to a different afterlife

if i have to deal with a new shakespeare sonnet being discovered and hear it in person on voice in real life not only will i stab the one reciting it i will buy the original manuscript out of spite and burn it down for the experience of being able to see another part of his legacy end up forgotten and lost

don't even ask why i hate him so much. he wanted to inspire men with his works but i am just mad because i am angy

he better have some fucked up backstory to explain this if he was just some bright eyed twink whos a fan of dreamy rich goths and wanted to have a go with one ill go ham

The fae BETTER have had Shakespeare kill his son cuz if he didnt Im still going to call the furies on him

paypal.com/IFuckingHateWilliamShakespeare

book's not even about him. vaguely mentioned what is supposed to maybe be the globe and I lost it

where the fuck is william shakespeare if hes a ghost in the dreaming im going to so deeply wish he wasnt

overrated spoony bard

ill punch shakespeare and his sad frail twink twig bones will simply flake apart under my epic huge meat fist and he will disintegrate until all thats left is one final sonnet he kept on him at all times simply titled Now You Fucked Up in middle english

im not breathing im hyperventilating at this point

The date William Shakespeare died? i have made it a reminder on my phone

everyday once a year i see it and do anything but pay respects to the man who had so many fucked up if true plays

#the sandman netflix #the sandman #Hob Gadling hates William Shakespeare #jumping in the bandwagon with an adaptation of the Jurgen Leitner rant #dreamling #well some version of it at least enough that interrupting the centennial date so rude that so much spite lingers #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman shitpost

150 notes · View notes

empty-blog-for-lurking · 10 months

Note

Kuron lance and allura for the headcanon thing(if that's not too many lol)

Kuron-

Headcanon A: realistic

After that time on the ice planet he started keeping extra water pouches and snacks with him at all times

He does not like the smell of burning meat

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

He enjoyed being a paladin in monsters and mana so much he was planning to cosplay his character when he got back home :)

Also pretty decent at cooking and uses it to make fun of Shiro

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

He had even picked up some cloth he could use for cosplay, it got blown up with the castle since no one thought to pick it up with him being yknow

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

CLASSIC LIT NERD!KURON FOR THE WIN!!!!

Lance-

Headcanon A: realistic

Knows a Guy™ for everything, like even the most random and specific ass situations he just Knows someone who can get them out.

Also big fan of point and click puzzle games, and is getting pretty good at it too

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

His grandma taught him how to shoot as well as other things like administrating first aid, carjacking, how to read and write in code, impersonation, 5 different language etc. When asked why she just said "for the future" and didnt elaborate

Lance and Hunk once pretended to be toxic-couple-fighting-in-public-and-making-a-scene as a distraction for Galra long enough for the others to complete the mission

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

Because of the entire died-but-revived and altean marks thingy he will either end up dying slowly or has extended life and is going to outlive almost all of his friends and loved ones :)

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

I have said this before but i'll say it again cause this is my favourite hc. I do not care what canon or fanon says but Lance is bi with shittiest taste in men. It's alright my boy, i perceive you, i know you have kissed men and i know they all fucking sucked.

Lance went on spy missions while the entire time Lotor was staying in castle and Keith was gone

Allura-

Headcanon A: realistic

She really doesnt like healing pods, or going to sleep and first thing she does after waking up is check the date and time

Also she would have loved glitter bath bombs

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

She loves building pillow forts. Lance and Hunk showed her how to make one and that is now her go to stress relief

Also she knows how to play an altean equivalent of a hurdy gurdy but like can only play altean equivalent of Wonderwall

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

As a little kid she used to look upto Zarkon and Honerva. You know how little kids have these adult figures (not parents) they really wanted to impress? That was Zarkon and Honerva

As a kid she was much more interested in Diplomacy and altean martial arts than in alchemy despite being naturally gifted with it because she thought the lessons were too boring. She regretted than when she woke up 10000 years later

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

She was researching on altean alchemy even before Lotor showed up to feel a bit closer to her culture

Technically she can pilot any lion because of her bond with them i do not care what canon says

#thanks for the ask!#Also this made realize how weird it is that Allura didnt recognize Honerva #Like she personally knew Zarkon how come she didnt recognize Haggar??#Throw this into the pile of another plot hole lmao #empty answers #ask meme

9 notes · View notes

the-rainbow-lesbian · 2 years

Note

https://twitter.com/skythedon___/status/1622141288140382208?s=46&t=Cmf8QhD4l4hQH5fLqluXTA

on twitter i saw this thread of bisexual women attacking this lesbian saying being bi means they only like women sexually and saying dating women is not a valid option because “men bring balance” and “women are too emotional” mask off moment in all these replies and threads with the lesphobia. a lesbian said hey consider why you only see women like sex objects and not romantic partners but shes an man incel for speaking the truth??? at this point when a bi calls a lesbian a man it’s pure projection. they act like fuckboys.

they are all coming in hordes letting the oh so stupid regressive lesbians for not knowing “it’s biSEXUAl not biLOVING” (literal quotes from bisexual women in the thread) they are admitting gay people are only sex freaks in their minds but osa is the only real love and romance. lesbians and gay men LOVE the same sex. bi women like their moids have no respect for women only men. the fact even radfem black agrees which is why i found these threads is why i don’t trust any bi radfem. “i only see women for sex but you’re the incel for suggesting we stop looking at women purely as sex toys” apparently examining misogyny and homophobia doesn’t apply to bi women and feminism because they’ve above all while being the shittiest people.

I think Sky the woman responding is bi too but like, a lot of lesbians already know this anon, and this is why we try to protect ourselves but because people dehumanize lesbians and think the worst of us they never consider why we prefer to be with other lesbians instead they are like oh they must all be evil biphobes who think bi women are filthy… etc just because we don’t want to be used.

and I skimmed through the comments (didn’t read the entire thing) and people were saying OOP has internalized misogyny poor thing uwu and I am like oh wow really? lesbians have been called deviants/misogynists/incels and compared to men for waaaaaaaay less, if we spoke about women like a pair of tits and pussy like this woman is doing we’d never hear the end of it, I saw a lesbian on twitter get called a sexual deviant for joking about eating out her wife for 2 hours. also don’t get me started on radfem black I used to be on twitter and saw some ….. unfortunate things.

22 notes · View notes

journeysfable · 10 months

Text

DERPINA!?

STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING DERPINA GOD DAMN MITW SHIPPER WORM EATING FILHO DA PUTA FRANGO VERMELHO BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF TOWN FEATHERED ASS MOTHERFUCKING DERPINA

STOP PINNING ME WHEN I TALK ABOUT DERPINA I HATE THEM SO MUCH WHY DO THEY SHIP MITW SO MUCH WHY DO THEY CONSTANTLY TALK ABOUT IT IS HE DEAD IS HE A BIG RED CHICKEN HAS SUCH A VISCERAL AFFECT ON ME NOT EVEN IN THE ROOM NEVER EVEN HEARD THEM SPEAK OR CLUCK BUT I KNOW THEY HAVE THE SHITTIEST SYRINX GET AWAY FROM ME

if i wanted to get into heaven and god said Derpinas waiting inside i would piss on gods feet for the sole purpose of getting sent back down

if i have to deal with Derpina speaking one word with a VA in an episode of Chume Labs not only will i close the tab i will remove the playlist from my yt library out of spite and have to rewatch the entire series again for the experience of being able to skip all the times when they are on screen and alive

i dont even know why i hate them so much. They ship MITW but i am just mad because i am angy

They better have some fucked up backstory to explain this if they're just a fan who cannot comprehend a deep platonic bond between two men I will go ham

BETTER just like imagining ppl in romantic relationships for the sake if it or I will infodump about dinosaurs and birds so they know how much of a stain they leave on their ancestors legacy

paypal.com/IFuckingHateDerpina

episodes not even about them. vaguely mentioned needing their help.

where the fuck is Derpina if hes still alive im going to so deeply wish he wasnt

Big fucking red chicken

ill punch Derpina and their sad frail hollow bones will simply flake apart under my epic huge meat fist and they will disintegrate until all thats left is one final feather with the cursed ink of a mitw fic

im not breathing im hyperventilating at this point

i hope theres a date given for when Derpina died or will die so i can make it a reminder on my phone

everyday once a year i will see it and do anything but pay respects to the bird who encroached upon a sacred (and toxically codependent but shh thats not the point) bromance

#gen can't remember if Derpina's alibe or not. thats how little I like them #can't remember their pronouns either #tazercraft #chume labs

3 notes · View notes

vampkitty66 · 1 year

Text

Manga Review: Wolf Girl And Black Prince

MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS!!!

These are my opinions

Wolf Girl And Black Prince is a manga series with 16 volumes and even ended up getting its own anime. It is labeled as a shojo romance and has become one of those "classic shojo must reads" and thats exactly why I read it.

The actual plot is nothing special, it follows Erika (the wolf girl) and Kyouya (the black prince) and they strike up an interesting deal with one another. It all started with Erika lying to her friends about having a boyfriend, when in actuality, she didn't. They ask to see a photo of him one day and thats when they start to doubt her, so in order for her to keep her lie, she snaps a photo of a random guy which happens to be Kyouya. Turns out Kyouya and Erika attend the same school and she eventually asks him to be her fake boyfriend. Kyouya agrees but has one condition, that Erika be his "wolf girl" pretty much saying he wants her as his pet dog.

I really wanted to like this, and at a few points I did. Kyouya is the shittiest red flag I've seen in a shojo so far. I like some red flags but this was one I could not get behind. Due to this, i thought his development would be great, I've even been told that his development is good and he gets less icky. Ive been lied to, there was a point in the story where I actually thought he was almost redeeming himself, but then he went back to being a shitty manipulator/gaslighter again. Erika literally put up with emotional abuse and it made me frustrated. Whenever he was a huge dick she'd forgive him and run straight in his arms EVERY SINGLE TIME. There are so many scenes I could bring up that made me infuriated, like when they went on a date and Erika wanted to look at the cherry blossoms. Kyouya was being such an ass to her, it always seemed like he would never put in much of an effort to do want she wanted to do. Also when Erika worked at the cafe to help out Takeru and Kyouya got so mad but then proceeded to work there and do the exact same thing she was doing.... 😐FUCKING HYPOCRITE

The thing that irked me the most though, was when she had decided what she wanted to do after they graduate. The plan was to attend school near Kyouya, if im not mistaken, but that was until she found something she was passionate about, a future career. Kyouya being Kyouya made her feel guilty and awful for wanting to leave, saying things like he was going to break up with her if she did, forcing her to stay. It had to take Erikas friend to slap some sense into Kyouya and tell him he's a piece of shit for saying that to Erika, for him to actually go and apologize and tell her to go follow her dreams.

I still enjoyed reading some parts, but imo this is just too problematic for me to enjoy fully. I just can't stand Kyouya most of the time. I will definitely not be watching the anime either. I'm not sure if i'd ever suggest this to someone, I mean unless they like really toxic stories 🤷‍♀️

It just blows my mind that people actually like him or fan girl over him (no offensive if you're one of those people, you like who you like i guess) but I don't think its okay for any man to treat a women so poorly like that. I know this is fiction, but I know when I was younger, i would look at men like this and truly believe that i needed a man like that or thats how relationships are. I think reading this as adult is fine because we know better. I much prefer healthy relationships though and will most likely stick to that after reading this.

Final rating 6/10

#anime #manga #shojo #manga review #romance manga #shojo manga #shojo beat #wolf girl and black prince

4 notes · View notes

lloyd-the-green-gremlin · 2 years

Text

Dean Winchester? Stupid idiot mfing Dean Winchester. Goddam fool, drama queen, shit stirring, stubborn bastard shithead idiot, Kain's descendent.

Biggest clown in the circus, laughed out of the Men of Letters mfing Dean Winchester.

Stop pinning me when i talk about Dean Winchester, i hate him so much, why does he have to be so stubborn and pissy all the time, and why did he fuck around and say those things? Juts talk about your feelings already!!

Is he dead? Is he a bastard?? Man has such a visceral affect on me, not even in the room, never met this man, but i know he has the shittiest mental health GET AWAY FROM ME.

If i wanted to get into heaven and God said "Dean Winchester is in there", i would piss on God's feet for the sole purpose of getting sent back down.

if i have to deal with Dean Winchester speaking one word, in person, on voice, in Supernatural, not only will i close the tab i will delete my bookmark out of spite and have to rewatch the entire series again for the experience of being able to skip all the times when he is mentioned or alive.

I dont even know why i hate him so much, he just needs proper therapy, im just mad bc im angy.

He better have some fucked up history to explain this, if he's just a shithead with daddy issues ill go ham.

BETTER have had a curse make him kill a man cus if he didnt, im going to make him.

PayPal.com/IFuckingHateDeanWinchester

Episode's not even about him, vaugely mentioned his dad AND I LOST IT.

Where the fuck is Dean Winchester, if he's alive, im going to wish very deeply he wasnt.

Crusty old man

ill punch Dean Winchester and his sad frail old man twig bones will simply flake apart under my epic huge meat fist and he will disintegrate until all thats left is one final gun he kept on him at all times simply named the "Now You Fucked Up" in ancient enocian.

im not breathing im hyperventilating at this point

i hope theres a date given for when Dean Winchester died or will die so i can make it a reminder on my phone, everyday once a year i will see it and do anything but pay respects to the man who had so many fucked up but true revenges.

#jurgen leitner rant #Spn #Supernatural #Dean Winchester #Aaaa #I hate you i hate you i hate you shut uppp #Spn s15

1 note · View note

pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

Lovely Josie! Can I request a Frankie piece? Where reader is part of the friend group and really into Frankie. She knows he's also into her but just typical insecure Frankie. So she flirts with him and tries to seduce him every chance she gets until one day she's had enough and really goes for it. And if course Frankie likes it 😇 Merci!

Spicy-Sweet (Frankie Catfish Morales x f!Reader)

summary: ^^

W/C: 4.3K

Warnings: lots of talk of alcohol, food, god Frankie’s an idiot but a cute one, so much pining and flirting, implied age gap and Frankie’s insecure over it, Frankie has a brief and mild anxiety attack but is comforted

A/N: this is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Bucky- that was what the men called you. When you’d first joined the group of men, it’d been as Pope’s friend, a shock to all of them; you weren’t sleeping together, weren’t sneaking around. Just friends. That threw them for a loop. You were always at his side, his right-hand wing-woman. Frankie had been a little put off at first that he’d been replaced, but he grew to like you just as much as the other men. That’s how you’d earned Bucky: Cap’s sidekick, Pope’s sidekick.

When you finally bonded with the rest of them, became friends with them, you were less Pope’s sidekick and more yourself. You grew to love the men for different things. Benny was always there to cheer you up, full of bad jokes and energy. He’d take you out when a date stood you up, buy you a beer on your shittiest days. Will Miller was a shoulder to cry on. He was smart, strong, emotionally intelligent. Wise beyond his years, Ironhead always had the best advice for you. Pope was the partier, and was the one who got things done. Organizing plans was his forte. He loved getting the group together to hang out, and was the only one who could rally the group.

Frankie was all of that and more. Everything. Frankie had caught your eye the moment Pope introduced you to the men. Frankie was the quietest, even quieter than Will. He never enjoyed the spotlight, especially when you were new, but he loved making his friends laugh. He was comforting and helpful, lending you a jacket or helping you with a manual labor task you couldn’t quite get.

Frankie is the one you have a crush on. All of the men have their attributes, and you have to admit that any of them would make a good boyfriend and surely a good lover, but they are and always have been brotherly first. Frankie was something different. You wanted to stay in his arms forever, wanted to kiss the bald patch on his jaw and steal his Hawaiian shirts. You tease him endlessly to hide your feelings, though never in a mean way at all. Always soft and joking, always reciprocated by the teddy bear of a man.

You were the same to him; the first time he saw you, he thought he wanted to marry you someday. He loves your laugh and your humor, loves the way you nudge his side and even though it’s a little painful, wants you to do it again just so he can feel your body touching his. He loves how you can hold court over the men with your stories, can get them to agree on the most divisive of issues. He’d even proposed once that you become Cap, not Bucky. You were clearly a leader. But Santiago brushed it off by saying that Bucky was getting his own show now, so he’s just fine, and besides pendejo, you can’t change a nickname once it's been given.

Emotionally constipated Frankie is just fine to sit to the sidelines. If he has one principle with love and friends, it’s that he’d rather have you as a friend than not have you at all. That’s why he doesn’t necessarily openly flirt with you, why he suppresses his feelings until it’s late at night and he’s alone and can daydream about your pretty face and tight jeans and the crinkle of your nose when you smile.

You’re different. You wear that green shirt you know Frankie always ogles you in when it’s a night out. You buy him a drink or two. You insist he dance with you, take him on errands with you on a Saturday morning. You can read the man; you’re pretty damn sure he likes you too, but you don’t want to ruin it. Rushing him is the last thing on your mind.

As you wander through the farmer’s market on a spring Sunday morning, you shiver as the breeze rushes past your bare arms. Frankie doesn’t notice; he’s too busy admiring a booth selling hot honey. You can’t help but laugh as he delightedly samples a spoon of the syrupy-sweet-spicy product, and turns to you with wide eyes. “Bucky, you gotta try this,” he insists, handing you a sample spoon.

Nodding, you give in and taste it. The flavor on your tongue reminds you of Frankie if he were a flavor: a little spicy, but more of a warm feeling. Infinitely sticky-sweet, floral and tasting of sunshine. There’s heat, just a little, enough to awaken your tastebuds and mingle with the honey perfectly. “That’s good shit. How much is it?” You ask the vendor.

A few minutes later, you walk away with two bottles. You hand one to Frankie. “Here. This is for you,” you tell him with an earnest smile.

Frankie’s brows slide together beneath the brim of his favorite ball cap. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” you shrug and pat his cheek, your path curving to the right as you approach a bakery stall.

The morning is sunny and just slightly cold, making you shiver every so often. Sweet Frankie walks dutifully at your side like the dogs and their owners similarly strolling the tent-lined sidewalk. His eyes light up as he sees breads and flowers, homemade jerky and beautiful jewelry. The variety is exciting, and you often hear Frankie shouting for you from a new booth.

While you admire the jewelry made of local stones, something warm and soft covers your shoulders. You look down to find that it’s Frankie’s suede brown jacket. “You looked cold,” he tells you and turns a little pink before patting your shoulder and wandering off.

At the end of the day, you have a full reusable bag, brimming with goodies: a small bright bouquet, two loaves of bread, cookies, fresh berries, and a bottle of hot honey. Frankie’s is similarly stuffed, though it’s with much more unhealthy choices. The two of you sit on a grassy hill, munching on a pack of thumbprint cookies Frankie purchased.

The morning sun is just starting to warm up, but the jacket you’re now wearing is cozy. You lean your head on Frankie’s shoulder as the two of you rest there without words, lost in your own thoughts.

God, he’s so cute. So sweet. A little stupid. Just how I like them. Is my flirting not obvious enough to him? You wonder internally.

Frankie’s thoughts are similar but different. She’s so sweet. She’s so nice to me. I wonder if she’d ever like me like that.

Partying is Pope’s favorite pastime. The man enjoys getting shitfaced and taking a similarly drunk date home. Lord knows what they do; you’re glad you don’t. That leaves you and the Millers and Frankie. You and Benny dance and sing karaoke, twirling and shouting the lyrics to the song blasting in the bar. Frankie and Will sit on the sidelines.

That’s exactly where tonight has found you. A surprisingly sober Pope has gone home with a pretty girl he flirted with briefly before she tugged him by the jacket sleeve. He shot a look of excitement at the four of you before leaving.

Now, Benny requested his favorite song through the pay-per-tune machine in the corner. You’d squealed and dragged him out, dancing with him on the wooden floor the bar provides. Frankie can’t help but think the two of you would make a good couple. The two of you are full of sarcasm and energy at most times, around the same age. Frankie’s a bit older, and he can’t help but think that it would be weird for you, that it would prevent him from liking you. If only he knew.

Benny does, actually. He’s annoyed that your group doesn’t give him enough credit for his smarts. He might be mostly muscle, but he’s packing brains too. He’s great at observing social interactions, and he can especially tell that there’s something between the two of you. He’s learned his best friend like he knows how to drive or what his own phone number is. Benny knows Frankie, and he knows he won’t make the first move for fear of upsetting you. That’s why he’s taken it upon himself to be your blonde, blue eyed Cupid and queued up Frankie’s favorite song next.

You know it’s his favorite song. Of course you do. When it comes on, you turn to the bar with wide eyes and wave to catch Frankie’s attention, then wave him over. Benny says something or another and wanders off. It takes some nonverbal persuading, some pleading eyes and pouting to the man, but Frankie eventually adjusts his jeans and gets up, leaving that suede jacket behind on his barstool.

“It’s your song!” you exclaim as you throw your arms around him, starting to dance along with him. He moves back with you, though nowhere near as fluid or free.

He shakes his head but smiles, and you flick the brim of his cap. “Oh come on, you love this song. Don’t be such a dope,” you tease and grab his hips, forcing him to move them a little more than the stiff motions he’s making.

“I am a dope,” he mumbles and you roll your eyes, moving in a way that invites Frankie to move back against it. It’s a two-person dance, and you’re starting to get him moving.

Chuckling, you look up at him. “You ever seen Footloose?” you ask him.

He blows a raspberry into the air, laughing. “Of course I have. It’s my favorite movie.”

“Then how come you can’t dance?” You tease.

Frankie makes a noise of mock-injury, clutching his chest. “Damn, Bucky. Right in the heart.”

You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder. “I was going to say that you remind me of Willard. I guess that’s fitting though. You can’t dance.”

His scent is the only thing you can think about, the way his cologne is spicy and sweet on his flushed skin, warm from having you in such close proximity. “Does that make Pope Ren?”

“And it makes me whatever the girl who dates Willard is named,” you shamelessly flirt, swaying him to the side as the song changes in keys.

If there was anything in Frankie’s mouth right now, he’d be choking. Maybe it’s just because you’re dancing together, he rationalizes. Maybe it’s just because you wouldn’t want to date Pope. It can’t be because you like him. That’s not even a thought that crosses his mind. “Ha. Sure,” he shakes his head, taking off his cap and teasingly placing it backwards on your head.

It’s loose on your head, and you laugh as you look up at him. Frankie has that feeling again in his gut: he’s going to marry you someday. It can’t be the alcohol, not in either of you. You’ve both only had a drink each. No, in this moment he realizes the depth of how bad he wants you, but he cannot comprehend that you want him too. There’s no way you could ever love a man like Francisco Morales, he tells himself. But he wants you to. He aches for you to.

The song ends and the ache only grows. Frankie is not a dancer. This is his time to retire to the barstool. “Well, thank you for holding my hat,” he teases you and steals it back, putting it on himself and patting your side before wandering back to his spot next to Will.

You frown, but then Benny finds you again and the energy returns somewhat. You long to feel Frankie’s arms around you again, to dance with him and whisper jokes next to his ear so that you can feel the way his laugh buzzes in his chest. You consider buying another play of Frankie’s song later, but that would be suspicious. You’ll have to find another way, but you have to do it soon; you’re not sure how much longer you can last before you combust from not getting to kiss his soft lips, to feel his scruff beneath your fingertips as you cup his face and finally close the gap between the two of you.

Frankie is much too old for parties. He’d decided that even a few years ago now, that that sort of thing was best left to the young bucks who could drink endlessly and awaken with only a mild headache. How the hell Benny had talked him into attending this party, he wasn’t sure, but he knew that you’d be there and that was enough for him.

You’re not a big partier either; you can get wild, but only around your friends, usually only with Benny there to egg you on and hand you shot after shot. You don’t particularly like getting drunk, just enough alcohol to make things a bit lighter. Benny and Santiago were the ones who’d insisted you and Frankie come along to this party a mutual friend of theirs is hosting.

Of course, the boys wanted you two there but had failed to mention they were each bringing dates. When you wandered in with Benny and a girl flung herself onto him, peppering his blonde stubble with kisses, you’d quickly learned that you weren’t going to get a good night with your favorite guys. Santiago was similarly taken, a girl draped across his lap in a busy living room, each of them holding a drink. He’d given you a two-finger salute as you wandered to the kitchen, kind of annoyed.

You’d dressed a little nicer, though nothing too special, and you immediately hoped at least Frankie and Will would be around tonight to hang out with. Will’s not a big partier, though he’s a little more social than you and Frankie. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket and your face falls as you read the text.

Ironhead: sorry guys. Not gonna make it out tonight.

He provides no explanation why; Will never does. You know better than to question it. Your only hope now is that Frankie doesn’t blow you off.

Frankie could never. The promise of you being at the party was enough for him to meticulously shave and spray that cologne he knows you love on his flannel, which you’ll surely ask for because you’re always cold. He’s not here yet, so you lean against the kitchen counter and crack open a hard seltzer as you look around. Bringing your drink with you, you hit the bathroom and when you return, there’s a familiar ball cap poking above the crowd, labeled with Standard Heating & Oil. Frankie.

Sneaking up behind him, you snatch the cap from his head and put it on yourself. “Hey, pilot,” you sing as he turns and his face lights up to see you. His hair is still slightly damp from the shower, leaving an indent in those curls from where the cap was.

“Goddamnit, Buck,” he laughs and tries to steal it back, but you dodge out of the way.

“Looks like it’s just us tonight, flyboy,” you sigh as you prop an elbow on his shoulder and look around, finding Benny and his girl making out on the dance floor and Santiago playing with a woman’s hair on the couch.

Frankie has to admit he’s okay with that. “They didn’t tell me they’d be bringing dates,” you grumble. Frankie holds back a chuckle. This was most definitely planned, Wingman Benny embracing his role in forcing the two of you together. Frankie couldn’t say he was too upset about it, in all honesty. “Come on, let’s get you a drink,” you shake your head and grab Frankie by the bicep, trying not to shiver at how muscular his arms are.

In the kitchen, you toy with the hem of his shirt as he mixes himself an old fashioned from the vast cocktail bar. “I love this one,” you murmur absentmindedly, admiring the worn fabric and the ripping seams at the hem. It’s so perfectly Frankie: an old black Fleetwood Mac shirt, nearly falling apart. There are holes in the hems and under the left armpit but it always smells sweet and spicy, just like him, and feels like a security blanket. “Looks good on you.”

“Looks like a piece of shit. I need to just throw it out, but I can’t bring myself to,” he chuckles as he finally takes a sip of his drink. He knows the reason he can’t: you love it too much.

“Good,” you nod and set down your hard seltzer, making yourself a drink.

“What you got there?” he asks as he watches you stir up a concoction.

“Essentially the same as you. Old fashioned but with Fireball instead of regular whiskey.”

“You seem to like the spicy-sweet thing, don’t you?” he teases.

God, if only he knew. “Spicy-sweet, just like someone else I know,” you tease him and nudge your shoulder with his. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

Frankie’s heart does several backflips in a row, complete with a roundoff and a cartwheel. He’d earn the gold in the Olympics, the way his heart tumbles and turns in his chest. “Ha,” he laughs dryly, looking down at his own drink, swishing it and watching the ultra-sweet cherry spin through the dark liquid.

The music gets louder from the other room as you and Frankie drink in silence, both of you leaning against the kitchen counter as the amount of alcohol per cup steadily decreases. “I’m gonna go see if I can find Pope,” Frankie finally speaks over the loudening noise, nodding to the living room where everyone is clustered.

“Sure,” you call back, even though he’s just a few feet from you.

It’s practically a maze, trying to find his way through the people. They’re all moving and bouncing, the sound overwhelming him. It’s like a goddamn mosh pit, he thinks, or how it must feel to be buried inside one. How did this party become something like this, and why the hell is he here? Frankie wanders through, getting turned around as the group moves and sways.

His breathing gets heavier, and suddenly Frankie feels suffocated. His primary objective no longer is finding Pope, it’s getting the fuck out of here before this herd stampedes him to death. He feels pathetic and small, like a single fish in a giant school wandering through an abysmally deep sea.

When the tide loosens its hold, when Frankie sees a path, he takes it out. He’s not sure how long he was trapped in there- 20 seconds, a minute, five minutes, but he’s overwhelmed and his head is spinning, his drink somehow gone and lost in the shuffle.

You see him stumble out, looking terrified, and rush over. “Hey, hey, Frankie,” you murmur as you grab his forearms. “Are you okay? Did you find Pope?” You ask, your thumbs tracing over his pulsing veins.

He shakes his head, and you take it as a no for both. “Okay, come on, did you drive here? Is your truck out there?”

He nods and grabs his keys, putting them in your hand. “Alright, pilot, come on. Let’s get you out of here.” You stick the hat back on his head and hope it could maybe bring a sense of normalcy back to him.

Frankie’s head feels like radio static as you bring him to the truck, unlocking it and sliding in first across the bench seat. He follows in after you and closes the door, and he turns the air conditioning on full-blast, feeling desperately hot.

“Hey, hey. Talk to me,” you beg of him, cupping the side of his face with one hand. You shiver under the quick breeze of the vents, the cold air immediately filling the cab of his truck. “What happened?” You ask, just above a whisper, fingers tracing the stubble of his jaw.

His eyes are getting more normal, less panicked and more sane. He must’ve had some kind of anxiety or PTSD moment in the crowd. “Just… thought I was gonna get crushed,” he murmurs, not looking at you.

“Frankie. Let’s breathe together, okay? Look at me.” His eyes find yours and you smile. “Good. Follow me.”

You ground him nearly instantly, your chilled skin under his hands as he grips your upper arms, your soft lips parting to breathe in and out. The flutter of your eyelashes when you close those beautiful eyes, the one that have such a distinct unique color. He would kiss you right now if he had the courage.

He breathes along with you and is calm enough by the second breath to think rationally again. The wave has passed, leaving his body feeling tired and limp. “I-I’m good,” he assures you, tracing his fingers across your skin. “Bucky, you’re freezing.”

“Frankie,” you give a sad chuckle. “I’m supposed to be calming you, and-“

“I’m super hot, please, take this,” he says as he shucks his flannel and hands it to you. “It would help me,” he says simply, enjoying the way the air conditioning more directly contacts his skin without it on.

“Well, okay,” you laugh and slip it on, breathing in the warm scent that is Frankie and sighing contentedly. “See? I love the sweet and spicy thing, like your cologne.”

He shakes his head and looks away. “Oh, stop. You don’t mean that.”

You frown at him. “Frankie. You’re thinking straight again, right?”

He nods.

“Then how aren’t you processing how in love with you I am?” You ask with a soft laugh, resting your head against his shoulder. “I flirt with you endlessly, and it feels like you never pick up on it. So now I’m just going to say it: I like you, Frankie.”

Biting his lip, Frankie looks down at you with slight confusion. “Really?”

You laugh incredulously, burying your face in his neck. “Yes, Frankie, really. I like you a lot. I have since the moment I met you. And I’d like to think you like me too.”

There’s a beat of silence and he nods, taking one of your hands in his and lacing the fingers together. “I really like you too. I’ve been in love with you since the moment we met, Buck,” he admits, wide brown eyes looking down at you with all of the love in his massive heart. “I just… didn’t want to assume anything. You’re so good to me, but you’re so good to the other guys too.”

“Do I buy the other men bottles of hot honey? Have I ever brought a date around like the other guys do?” You ask, lovingly and hoping he sees your point. “I’ve been pining for you for so long, Morales. I just want you to get it through your thick skull that I care for you and I’ve been in love with you for quite a while.”

“I feel stupid,” he mumbles, ears turning pink at the tips. “It was pretty obvious. You’re right.”

“Hey, you’re not stupid,” you assure him and squeeze his fingers. “I personally think it’s fucking adorable that you didn’t want to assume that. I like that, that you didn’t want to do anything first without knowing the same about you. I like all of you, Frankie, from that scruffy beard to these cozy flannels you always let me borrow.”

His heart melts in his chest, reducing him to a puddle. “Then I guess I should ask if you’d be my girl.”

His girl? If you thought he couldn’t get any cuter, you were wrong. You can’t hold back any longer and you swing your leg across his lap, straddling him in the bench seat of his truck. “Can I kiss you, Frankie?” You ask, gently removing his cap and setting it aside.

“God, yes please,” he practically whines as he cups your face in both of his big hands, kissing you deeply and breathing out heavily through his nose.

It’s the best thing you’ve ever felt, Frankie’s body pressed to yours as your lips meet. You both taste that perfect spicy-sweet flavor, the way that’s so Frankie in your head. This might be the sweetest and softest man alive, you think to yourself, and goddamn, you’re lucky, Bucky.

His body radiates the heat of his love and stress and everything, completely melting into yours. You’re never going to stop doing this now that you’ve started. You’re never going a day without holding Frankie like this.

Your legs are firmly planted on either side of him, and Frankie moves his hands to grip your waist and pull you in closer. Shivering at the way he practically manhandles you, you moan into his lips, murmuring his name breathlessly. It’s like the most perfect melody, the way you say it. He mumbles your name back, your real name. Not Bucky.

Your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself tight against him, running one hand through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He tastes like heaven, just as perfect as you’ve dreamed about for as long as you’ve known him. When you break away, you smile softly, admiring the way he’s panting beneath you. His head is tilted back to look at you on top of him, his eyes glazed over and cheeks warmed with pounding blood. You gulp and trace the side of his face with feather-light fingertips, admiring his beauty. “God, Francisco,” you murmur. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles

447 notes · View notes

latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

Text

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑆𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑

Warning: Just one brief mention of kidnapping and being held hostage. Other than that, it's safe to proceed.

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰 ﾟ･:*✿

It felt like an eternity before someone opened the door and walked in.

Hongjoong took one look at you before widening his eyes. He looked back at one of men behind him and sighed.

"You had one job Hangyul and you couldn't even do it right?! This isn't the right person!"

Said Hangyul bowed his head and apologized profusely.

Hongjoong rubbed his temples in annoyance. He looked back at you and examined you closely. Even with your puffy hair, tear strained cheeks and messy hair, he thought you looked beautiful. The longer he looked at you, the more some weird feeling in his chest started to grow.

"What's your name?" He asked you.

You struggled to find your voice, but managed to utter out your name in a soft whisper.

It was almost like music to his ears.

"Well Y/N.....it seems we accidentally mistook you for someone else.....Ooops."

He really didn't know what to say to you. He felt bad that you were now standing before him, scared, trembling and no doubt hurt. Part of him told him to release you from your restraints, and hold you tenderly. Then one of his men reminded him:

"Hongjoong sir? Since we can't release a witness for security reasons, do you want us to get rid of her?"

Your head snapped up at the comment and you began desperately trying to break free.

"No please don't! I'm begging you! Have some mercy on me! Let me go and I swear I won't say anything to anybody!"

Hongjoong hesitated for a brief moment until your crying got louder and you said:

"I have a son! He's only 3 years old! I'm the only one he has! So please......." You begged, all the little strength you had left in your body began to slowly drain as you realized you might never see your son again.

That's all it took for Hongjoong to break.

"Release her."

The men looked shocked. "But sir-"

"I said release her. Now!" He commanded.

Instantly, all the ropes were cut and you were free. You tried to stand up, but you were so shaken up your legs gave out. Luckily, Hongjoong caught you in his arms and carried you away from there.

"I'm really sorry about this."

He ordered for his car and personally saw that you made it home safely. Even days afterwards, he still kept an eye on you and your son, whom he couldn't help but find adorable.

You noticed that someone was watching you when you suddenly started to receive strange packages that sometimes contained groceries, clothes or even toys. You wondered who could be sending these things.

Your question was answered when you took your son to the park. Hongjoong tried his best to stay hidden but you quickly found him. He stood there looking awkwardly at you.

"It was you wasn't it?" You asked him.

"Yeah....." He replied shyly. Seriously, he was one of the top mafia bosses. Why was a single mom like you making him nervous like a schoolboy?

"Mommy!" Your son ran up to you.

You picked him up and your son just stared at Hongjoong. He leaned into your ear and asked you who he was.

You smiled at him. "Oh him? He's just an old friend."

Your son looked back at Hongjoong, somewhat afraid of him. But Hongjoong just gave him the warmest smile he could.

"Hey there little buddy. You don't have to be scared of me."

Hongjoong knew it would take time, but he also knew that in the end, he'd be part of your life and of your son's.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪 ﾟ･:*✿

You don't know whether you were grateful or you regretted ever accepting to work at the bar Seonghwa owned. You couldn't complain about the pay, it was more than good and although you knew Seonghwa was sketchy af, you never felt unsafe as he always made sure you were protected and no one harassed you.

However you knew Seonghwa had the hots for you, everyone knew it actually. At first, they thought he just wanted to get in your pants, that's what he usually did with any hot female that worked for him. But time passed and everyone now knew that he was head over heels for you. Boy was like a love sick puppy for you. It was quite entertaining to watch actually.

No one resented you for it or even tried to bother you. You were constantly turning him down and keeping a strictly professional relationship with your boss. If he offered you any gifts, you rejected them. If he offered the schedule everyone fought for, you turned it down and accepted the shittiest shift. Seonghwa never gave up though. He wanted you and he'd get you no matter what.

"You've gone soft." His best friend, Hongjoong told him one day.

"No I haven't." Seonghwa refuted that statement.

Right then, the phone rang. Hongjoong picked it up.

"Hello? Oh hi...... Oh really? Ok. I'll let him know. Don't worry. Hope you feel better. Bye."

Hongjoong hung up and continued his task of polishing his gun.

"Well?" Seonghwa asked rather annoyed.

"Oh it's nothing. Just Y/N calling in sick. She won't be coming." Hongjoong stated as if it was the most normal of in the world.

Seonghwa, however, was panicking.

"Y/N?! Sick?! What do you mean sick?! She's never sick! She never calls in! What if something happened to her?! I need to see her!"

Grabbing his jacket, he ran out the room, leaving Hongjoong dumbfounded.

"Ok. But you're not soft huh?"

Seonghwa sped over to your house, bag full of medicines and other things he deemed necessary in his arms. He frantically knocked on what he hoped really was your door, he had never been to your house.

"What?!" You shouted when you swung the door open.

"I came cause Hongjoong said- Wait! You look fine." Seonghwa noticed you didn't look unwell as he scanned your body.

"If this is another stupid attempt to hit on me, I will slam my door on your hand. I don't care if one of your men end up cutting off one of my fingers." You warned him.

"You said you were sick!" Seonghwa exclaimed.

"No. I called in a sick leave because-"

You were interrupted by a soft 'Mommy' from behind you. You turned to see your 2 year old daughter standing there, blanket wrapped around her tiny and frail body.

"Sweetie. I told you not to get out of bed. Your cold will get worse."

You completely forgot about Seonghwa and proceeded to attend your daughter, who was the reason why you called in sick. Seonghwa was shocked at finding out you had a kid. But it wasn't a bad surprise. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He didn't even realize that he ended up walking into your apartment and watched as you tucked your daughter in the couch, helping her blow her nose.

If people thought he was whipped before, now he was fucking wrapped around your finger. He adored kids, and this revelation just made you even more perfect in his eyes. Now he was more than determined to make you his.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸 ﾟ･:*✿

With Yunho, you actually didn't take long to start dating. He was so caring and attentive to you. You remember when you told him on a date that you had a child. You felt it was necessary to let him know before your relationship got more serious.

"A kid?" He repeated.

"Yes..... I have a son..." Your voice trailed off.

Your head already started imagining the worst and most common scenario: he'd be all sweet but say he's not ready for that responsibility and dump you like all the others. It happened every single time. It didn't turn out to be the case though.

"Really? How old is he? Do you have a picture? When can I meet him? Does he know about me?"

Yunho was ecstatic to find this out and he was very interested in anything that had to do with you. Besides........ you weren't the only one keeping secrets. He hadn't exactly told you what his job really was. Just like you, he was afraid of you leaving him when you found out his connections to the criminal world. Which is why he kept it hidden for a long time.

But he did tell you one day. He came clean about it.

"I know I should have told you earlier, especially now that I'm a part of your and your son's life.... but I was scared...... I love you but I understand if you'd rather not see me anymore."

Maybe you were crazy, maybe you were too much in love, but you assured him you wouldn't leave him. You only voiced concern about your son's safety. You didn't want anything to happen to him.

"I swear on my life, nothing will ever happen to him or to you. I promise to keep you both safe."

It was a promise he always kept. He became a constant in your life, and he was always making sure to spend time with your son, spoiling him to no end. You remember when he threw a birthday party for him at his mansion. It was small and not a lot of people could come because he couldn't risk having strangers over, but you all had a great time.

That's where you met his other friends, who were very curious to meet the woman and the kid who made Yunho into a hyperactive puppy.

"I'm serious, I've never in my life seen him be like this." Mingi pointed out as they watched Yunho play with your son.

"Really? Since I met him, he's always been like that." You were surprised to find out from his friends what he used to be like.

"Then you must really be a special lady. Congratulations. You turned a criminal into a total dad."

You blushed at Seonghwa's comment.

"He's not a dad...." You cleared your throat.

Seonghwa turned to you and smirked.

"Not yet.....but trust me. Very soon it might be official."

✿*:･ﾟ𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰 ﾟ･:*✿

Yeosang and you didn't have the greatest of start in the relationship. Both of your parents were mafia bosses and so you were both forced into a contractual marriage that neither of you wanted.

"Look. How about we just carry on our lives as if nothing happened?" You suggested.

"Agreed." Yeosang nodded.

Years passed and eventually Yeosang took over the family business, working alongside your brother Wooyoung, who took over for your father. Because Yeosang spent so much time with your brother, you ended up spending so much time togethers.

Soon you both stopped avoiding each other company and actually became close friends. Or you thought you would just be friends, until one day Yeosang couldn't help himself and just kissed you.

"What was that for?" You try not to look too happy about it though.

"What? Is it a crime for me to kiss my wife?" He winked at you.

Gradually, you fell in love and completely forgot that this was a contractual marriage. It became a real marriage for you both. Yeosang doted on you and was such a devoted husband. And he was so ecstatic when he found himself you were pregnant with your first child. He immediately made preparations and began decorating one of the rooms, choosing gender neutral colors like green and yellow.

He was over the moon when you gave birth. He cried so much when he held your precious bundle of joy in his arms for the first time. He was so overwhelmed with emotions. Leaning down, he kisses your forehead tenderly. He was so grateful to have you and your daughter.

You two became his whole world, and his friends teased him to no end about it. After all, how did the cold mafia Prince turned into such a warm family man?

✿*:･ﾟ𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷 ﾟ･:*✿

Your relationship with San was very blissful and passionate. It definitely started with a lot of passion. You two met at a club and randomly hooked up. You thought he'd be just a one night stand, not that you cared. You weren't particularly looking for a relationship. But he was hooked on you and so he sought you out, properly asking you out on a date.

You quickly found out that he wasn't just the kinky lover in the sheets. He was a total cutie and a cuddle bug. That ended up sealing the deal for you and you completely fell in love with him.

Things definitely moved fast in the relationship. 4 months in and he asked you to move in with him. You thought it was strange, but were so in love with him that you agreed. You didn't know it was because he wanted to make sure you were safe in case any rivals tried to hurt you. And he made sure not to let you find out what and who he really was.

After a year, you two welcomed a baby boy into your lives. You spent the first months like all new parents: full of happiness and joy over your new baby. San was already making plans for his boy, imagining him taking taekwondo just like he did and excelling at all things that had physical involvement. Everything seemed to be going fine......

Until one day you found out who he really was. Your heart shattered at this new piece of information.

Had he lied to me? Is all of this a lie?

One thing was for sure, you panicked when you thought about your son and his safety. Without thinking, you began packing a suitcase, taking only the necessary things for him and you. You didn't know where you'd go, but your mind told you to leave.

"Baby? What-what are you doing?"

You turned to see San standing at the door, confused as to why you were packing.

"I know. I know everything."

His heart dropped at your words. So you finally found out. It clicked to him what you were up to.

"And so you're leaving me?" He couldn't believe it.

"I have to! How could I stay with you knowing our son could be in danger because of you?!"

San marched up to you and pulled you against him, holding onto you for dear life.

"Baby please listen to me! I lied to you, I know and I'm sorry! But I honestly do love you, I love you and our son so much, you two are my everything! You can't leave me! Please don't walk away from me and don't take him away from me! I'm sorry! But I promise I'll take care of you both."

He sanked down to his knees and held you by your waist, his tears staining your shirt. When it came to you and your son, he was no longer the strong confident mafia boss. You were his ultimate weakness.

"Please don't go..... please say you still love me...."

Your heart clenched. Even though finding this out tore you apart, you still loved him. You'd never stop loving him.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲 ﾟ･:*✿

At the beginning, you didn't want to be with him. You knew who he was and what he was capable of. You were practically forced to date him, scared shitless thinking about what he'd do to you if you refused him. He really did try to show you that he wasn't the ruthless and violent mafia boss the media played him out to be.

"Why do you look so uncomfortable? Don't you like the food?" He asked you.

"The food is great, it's just you know, not every girl wants to have a dozen men in suits standing around with guns in their pockets while on a first date." There was a hint of bitterness and sarcasm in your tone.

Mingi pouted. "It's for protection purposes."

If someone had told you the most feared mafia boss in all of Seoul was actually a clumsy, soft baby, you would never have believed them. But indeed, that's the side of Mingi you ended up uncovering. Sure it still terrified you when his rage was released, but never was it directed to you.

Finally after years of asking and asking, you accepted his marriage proposal and he was the happiest man alive. No happiness could compare. That's what he thought until the day you gifted him with a precious angel. She instantly became daddy's girl and nothing could change that. It was quite funny actually.

Like one time when he was having a meeting with his other mafia friends. Things got very heated and Mingi was about to blow up. Until a tiny head peeked in.

"Daddy!" Your daughter ran over to him, while you failed to try and catch her.

Mingi completely forgot what they were talking about and he picked her up.

"Hi princess! How are you? Did you miss your daddy?" He cooed at her.

Snickers were heard from his friends.

"Who would have thought?" "The Song Mingi has been tamed" "And by a child nonetheless"

Mingi threw a glare over at his friends.

"I can still order your heads on a platter you know." He threatened them.

"Mingi." You warned him, gesturing to your daughter.

"Sorry." He mouthed, remembering not to say such things in front of your daughter.

That's when his friends totally lost it.

"I told you San! Y/N is the one who really wears the pants in the relationship."

✿*:･ﾟ𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰ﾟ･:*✿

Were you furious that your father practically sold you into a marriage with his mafia friend's son? Yes. Was Wooyoung pissed off at having a wife thrown at him? Nope, not at all. He fell in love with you at first sight.

"Hi! I'm Jung Wooyoung, your soon to be husband and I can tell we're going to be really happy together!" He was practically beaming with joy.

"Hi, I'm L/N Y/N, the girl that's going to be caged to you for life......or death. Whichever comes first." You responded.

Wooyoung actually laughed at that, but you were serious. What if one day his mafia ass gets tired of you and he just decides to put a bullet in your head? You secretly hoped he did that before you were bound to him for life.

But 5 years later and you're still married. He's just as much in love with you as the first day he met you. You learned to love him, or as you often said to tease him: you learned to put up with him.

"Deny it all you want, but I know you love me just as much as I love you."

When he found out you were pregnant, he became even more clingy with you. Always making sure you were ok, going to everyone of the doctor's appointments, and constantly talking to your growing baby bump. The baby wasn't due for another 4 months and he was already wrapped around their finger.

"I can eat by myself Wooyoung." You reminded him as you tried to take the bowl from him.

"Let me baby you, ok!? I want my queen to be treated like one and I want to make sure my little princess will be ok." He stated.

You chuckled at how he kept insisting it was a girl.

"What if it turns out to be a boy?" You cocked your head to the side.

"It's a girl! She will be a precious bundle of pink glittery joy that I will love and cherish for as long as I live!" He really wanted a girl.

You rolled your eyes every time and you were desperately hoping that the ultrasound you were scheduled to get would reveal it was a boy. You really wanted to wipe the grin off his face. That and you wanted a mommy's boy yourself.

"So tell us doctor. It's definitely a girl right?" Wooyoung asked as he held your hand tightly.

"Actually......you're carrying a very healthy baby boy. Congratulations."

Wooyoung's hand dropped yours and he stood there stunned. You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. For goodness sakes, he had already had the nursery painted pink.

"Ok, now that you've been proven wrong, hand me that catalog. I'm deciding how we're decorating my son's nursery." You told him when you got back home.

"Uh.... it's our son! If I remember correctly, it takes 2 to make a baby. And please no sport related decorations! Get something more original! Ooh! I saw some really cute marine animals design that..."

You just smirked at him as he turned the pages of the magazine. He was still whipped.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸 ﾟ･:*✿

When you applied for the secretary job, you didn't think anything was sketchy about it. But you were wrong and instantly you were dragged into Jongho's mafia world. And you knew that now there was no way out. You knew too much and the only way you would ever walk out of there would be in a coffin.

That's what you thought, but honestly, Jongho liked you so much that if you wanted to, he'd dismiss you if you wanted it. But he didn't want you to go. He was too hooked on you to let you go. He liked how different you were from other women. You were so mature, and he liked your 'I don't give a fuck' attitude you exuded at times. He also loved to play around with you, even if he was the one doing most of the pulling while you were doing a lot of pushing.

"Sooner or later you will be mine doll." He often told you.

"Go find some other girl to play around with Jongho. I'm a little too old to be anyone's toy." You always responded with things that if it were anyone else, it'd get their head blown off.

You tried to keep your personal life as secret as possible from him. Your deepest fear was of Jongho finding out about your daughter, your only joy in life. You were afraid he'd use her against you........... that's what you tried to tell yourself. But really, you were afraid that if he found out, he'd lose interest in you. You couldn't deny he was attractive. But what kind of man would involve himself with a woman that already had a kid? Especially someone as young and powerful like Jongho?

But one day, you had no choice but to bring her along to work with you, since no babysitter was available. You thought you'd be all right. Jongho wasn't supposed to be there and you only had to pick up some papers. Luck wasn't on your side that day though. While you were rummaging around your desk, the devil himself walked into the office.

"Ah Y/N. Good thing I caught you. I need you to see if I got- who and what is that?"

He immediately pointed at your daughter, who was currently holding onto your leg, her other hand holding her bunny plushie. The color drained from your face, but you took a deep breath and gathered your courage.

"Jongho, this is my daughter, [insert name here]. Sweetheart, this is Jongho. He's the man I work for." You smiled down at her.

You didn't even want to look back at Jongho, afraid to see his expression. You were startled though when he came closer to you and bent down so he was eye level with your daughter.

"Hi there princess. What you got there? Do you like bunnies?"

Your daughter took an instant liking to him as she began explaining in her 2 year old language who her plushie was. And Jongho only played along, completely enchanted by such a cute and innocent baby.

"Ok that's enough sweetheart. I'm sure Jongho has some other things to attend to and we have to go."

Picking her up, you bid goodbye to Jongho, who held the door open for you. He grabbed your free arm though and whispered in your ear before you left:

"If you think this changes anything doll, you're completely wrong. I still want you and I still stand my ground that you'll be mine......."

He pulled back and smiled at you.

"Your daughter is very charming as well. You should bring her over more often."

He winked at you as you made your way out.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #mafia!ateez #mafia!au #ateez mafia au #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

1K notes · View notes