Talk To You //
Hopeless!Romantic!Donnie x Fem!Reader
author's note; kinda like a song fic (it's not) but yeah, super super late though!! Donnie's POV btw!!
yes it's been a 3 months 😋
Synopsis; Donnie has been keeping an eye on someone, being a hopeless romantic and his ”bad boy image“ isn't particularly helping.
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I hate this, I really hate this. Einstein, fucking help me. I wasn't supposed to like her! I wasn't supposed to like anyone!! I do not have any romantic feelings to her. But every single thing that I researched said otherwise. Even my own brother says so!! Why does everytime I look at you I get so— vulnerable? Staring at your face always made me calm. Admiring? Ew. But— those little short eye contacts are indescribably astonishing to feel. Maybe just maybe?
I don't know. You're messing up my mind- you little—
"Gahh, what should I do?" I groaned and slammed my head onto my table, a pencil fell from the said table. I stayed silent, frustrated at this ungodly useless feelings I've been feeling. I couldn't take her off my mind. All day long, I daydream about her which takes most of my productivity a waste. I haven't done anything but think about that little twat.
Reflecting doesn't help at all, all I think was her and her! Thinking about now, I just don't know why you keep being calm even though I've been so mean to you. I shouldn't do anything stupid like that but I can't help it, I'm figuring this out.
Feelings are so complicated to feel and such an unfortunate thing for me to have something people call as “humane“.
"Hey Donnie! Someoneeee~ got pizza!! She has your favourite!" Leo yelled at the other side of my door. Disturbing me from my reminiscing of this said person. Leo always knew about what our relation—rivalryship (even if it's partially one-sided) is. And he uses it as an advantage to tease me, specifically—fucking with me up.
I wouldn't blame him entirely though, I liked and hated this feeling. He doesn't know anyway. I wouldn't blame him aswell, she's really...cool, I guess.
I stopped myself from thinking about her before it gets worse. I fixed myself, not just physically but mentally, it's an eager to make her impress. But she wouldn't be impressed as I have been mean to her.
As I went to the main room, I wasn't particularly sure where they were but as I, the genius, were right. They were all huddled up with each other. Apparently they missed her for being gone for 13 days, 56 minutes and 12 seconds-
Goddamnit it...
"Ughhh, finally!! Some break from that shithole." She complained, I wondered. She picked a sliced pizza on the placed pizza on the ground and sat at the bean bag. She sighed releasing the stress and pain from her back...I suppose.
"Girl. Spill everything." Leo spoke excitedly like a girl's girl. Everyone gets their preferred pizza and/or pillows, blankets and sat with her. Curious on her new stories about school.
I was really uninterested about school, but I find myself listening on her rantings about the latest drama, tea and struggles on her daily life of school. I somewhat don't understand her words, I don't care anyway. Her voice has always been nice to hear even if she stuttered sometimes.
But every flaws she had was attractive. It's...unfair. That she's so extraordinary and remarkable human that we happen to stumble upon. I looked at her longingly, eyeing her squinted smile, her pimples, her.
I wish I can talk to you.
To talk to you without any mean remarks towards her, to be able to hear her laugh and compliments towards my acts.
I want to be near her, to feel her presence all of the time. To spend time with her just like my brothers do. How I envy them, surprisingly.
It's so frustrating, it's been years. I've been struggling with my quote unquote "love" or "admiration" towards her. She must be a witch, no one can make me feel like a hopeless pathetic, lovesick dog!
Even if I wanted to confess, I wouldn't have the chance to, I'm way too vulnerable when we're alone. I get so shy and flustered to do it.
Let alone I'm horrible at confronting my feelings, I can even write a damn letter for Einstein's sake!
I just- can't do it now
I'm hopeless.
Yet I desire for you.
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author's note here; yes it's been months, i apologize deeply. literally fucking school is devouring my existence and motivation rn not to mention I have a deadline to finish (cough March 29 cough) and I haven't even started it.
dw bbygirls i have some brain poop left and that's another desire to create a book (httyd phase coming back)
credits to Rick Montgemery for his astonishing songsssssssssss
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savage price of piety "crispy has lost control of their life again" celebration sneak peek
okay here's one from one of my favorite things i've ever written, which isn't actually posted yet, but everything for it so far is tagged with #savage price and is linked on my fic masterlist, which is my pinned post!
(mostly gen but with a surprise rarepair, time travel/reincarnation, found family, william miles’ a+ parenting, accidental subterfuge, desmond goes by miles mostly, inspired by study of flight by @esamastation but with a twist!, only somewhat historically accurate swears)
But it’s Ezio that broaches the subject, Leonardo having had to return to his studio so as not to upset said city’s patrons,
“Were you raised in Castello Tarazed?”
... What.
Desmond stares at him in bemusement, wondering how the fuck he knew anything about that, and also why that’s the first thing he’s asking him. Isn’t he curious about Desmond’s father? Don’t he and Leonardo already have a theory on his relation to the Auditore?
Ezio doesn’t elaborate, crossing his arms as he leans against the support of the rooftop loggia Desmond had been taking a break in, rough-spun sheeting pulled aside to let the sunlight in. Back-lit as he is, Ezio’s expression is even harder to see with the hood, though Desmond isn’t sure he’d have been able to actually read it even if he could.
After another minute of blinking at each other, Desmond slowly asks, “What?” and no, he isn’t thrilled when it gets a fond little uptick of Ezio’s mouth, pulling at their shared scar.
“Castello Tarazed,” he repeats, with a nod upriver towards the area of Rome it’s in, the rione that’s been known as Borga for... a very long time. It was even still called that in the 21st century, if Desmond is remembering one of Shaun’s rambling info-dumps right.
They can almost see it from the Island, situated right at the bend of the Tiber that stretches between the Vatican and the Castel Sant’Angelo, and though they can see said castel from where they are right now, they are too far away to pick Desmond’s old home out from the skyline.
Desmond licks his dry lips and glances away, before forcing himself to look back. “It’s been abandoned for years,” is what he says, though he isn’t sure why. His time in the Castel Sant’Angelo wasn’t great, he’ll admit, but the years before that with a man that raised his sons like Bill Miles did...
When he’s thought about revealing everything to the remaining Auditore, of explaining his life in the future, he’d never once considered telling them about this.
Standing over him, Ezio hums thoughtfully and unpins Desmond from his gaze, surely aware of his discomfort. “Eight years, yes. Locals say it’s haunted.”
Suddenly Desmond can’t feel his fingers. His right arm. The back of his head where it used to be cradled by the Animus.
“The tenders of the nearby Frisian Schola who were around that long ago claim everyone on the grounds of Tarazed was killed in a single night, but someone powerful covered it all up to avoid the scandal, and then never sold or gave the property away.”
Why is he asking this, why is he phrasing it like this, why doesn’t he just accuse Desmond like everyone else—?
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