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thetrashbinseries · 4 months

Text

— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two (explicit)

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst

x x x

“It’s not rocket science, Chris."

My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?

"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"

Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.

But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.

He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.

"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."

I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.

I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.

"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.

Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.

I don't need that energy.

Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.

Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.

Now, even less time for the BS.

"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.

Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,

"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."

"How am I playing with you?"

"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."

Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.

"Where are you at?" I squint.

"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.

"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.

"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."

He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"

"I was."

"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"

"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.

Which is why he bitches about it.

It's unfair.

"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.

"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"

"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."

"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."

Jake hangs up before I can fight back.

Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.

babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-

babydaddy: this is my life…my career…

babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…

babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…

babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.

The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.

Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.

Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.

Jake’s on his way over.

I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.

Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.

"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."

The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.

“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.

Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"

My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.

"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.

I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.

But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.

We're in this so deep, at least on my end.

I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.

"About us, and where this is going…"

We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?

The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?

Anxiety creeps in.

"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.

"Hm?" I ask.

He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."

I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.

"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.

"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.

"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.

Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."

Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.

"I don’t—care," I blurt.

Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."

He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."

Ouch.

It hurts that much more because—he’s right

"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."

I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.

"Fuck," I finally say aloud.

Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”

I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”

He laughs.

We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.

“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.

“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”

I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”

“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”

I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”

Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”

It’s enough to drag a snort from me.

He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.

“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”

When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.

“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.

“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”

“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.

“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.

“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”

I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.

So why was he proposing it?

“I gotta ask the label—”

“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”

It takes no thought for me to reply,

“Let’s do it.”

—

Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.

"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.

"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.

Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.

"To the music," Jake says.

"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.

"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.

I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.

"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.

"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."

"You get the final say though, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.

"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.

I nod.

"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”

I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.

Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.

“Hello?”

“You answered.”

It’s Chris.

His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.

It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?

“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”

A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.

“But you said—“

‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.

“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?

Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.

I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”

I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”

Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.

“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.

“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”

"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.

“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.

A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”

I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”

“Ooh what kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“A classic.”

#bang chan #bangchan x reader #chan x reader #chan x you #bangchan smut #chan smut #skz fic #stray kids fic #kpop smut #chan x y/n #chris bang #skz smut #jackson wang #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang fanfic #idol fic #crossover

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brandnewhuman · 2 years

Text

MASTERLIST

(Thanks to @bubbaswife for helping me with this)

🔪SLASHERS🔪

slasher hc:

Planting your face on their daddy milkers (sinclair edition)

Slashers and their memes

Slasher when they get old

Slasher with a dom reader

Slasher with a reader who kills for them

Slasher with reader who suffers from low blood pressure

Slashers with cats

Slasher with agender reader

Slasher with cats pt2

Slasher with a s/o with adhd

Slashers celebrating your birthday

Reader sucking on the slashy milkers

Slashers with a deadpool kind of reader

Slasher doing sh aftercare for the reader

Slasher adopting a kid

Baking with the slashers

Slasher adopting a kid pt2

Slasher faceplating on your chest

Slashers getting humbled

Seducing the slashy babes

Slashers when their s/o dies giving birth (one shots/hc)

Slashers getting humbled pt2

Slashers with a reader who has a degradation kink (sinclair twins edition)

Slashers at the beach

Slashers when reader flinches away from them (one shots/hc)

Slasher with a s/o scared of them

Bo Sinclair:

you're favourite angst boy ( one shot)

Bo being soft

Dilf Bo headcanons

Brahms Heelshire:

Worthy of love (one shot)

Vinny Sinclair:

Dilf vinny headcanons

Michael Myers:

His favourite game (one shot)

Og michael with a plus size reader

Baking with rz michael myers

Og and peepaw Myers with a reader who talks in their sleep

The shape effect 1 2

Not meant to matter (rz michael one shot)

Love and Mercy pt1

Thomas Hewitt

Gentle touches (one shot)

Guilty (one shot)

Asa Emory

Dancing around it (one shot)

Only you Babe (one shot)

Jason Voorhees

Jason headcanons

Jesse Cromeans

Jesse taking care of reader's sh

Pyramid Head

Grabbing pyra tits

My takes on the slashers:

Scents Lester likes

Why Bo and michael never cry

Michael Myers is anemic

Vinny is the one with anger issues

Bo talking about his parents

Michael myers might be asexual

Bo family's life rant

Brahms and michael rant about them with s/o who's sleep deprived

If Bo really had anger issues this would be his song

Why Michael does not sleep

Bo likes to sleep

Brahms is not just a stinky angry man

How vinny has been affected by his trauma

Bo knows how to sing rant

Brahms is too tall rant

Bo DOESN'T HAS ANGER ISSUES rant

Michael myers rant about his s/o leaving pt 1 2 3 4 5 6

Songs that remind me of Michael

Jason finding the good art of masterbating

🪦Ghost🪦

Aether getting high

🪖 call of duty mw2 🪖

König:

König random hc part 1 and part 2

König nsfw hc

König hot take

It still hurts one shot

König x reader headcanons

Helping the reader through grief

Soap:

Helping the reader through grief

Ghost:

Ghost x reader headcanons

Helping the reader through grief

🫀🦾 Detroit become human 🦾🫀

Elijah Kamski backstory hcs

Kamcon angst one shot

#slasher fandom #slashers #slasher community #slasher fanfiction #horror movies #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons

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asters-random-sideblog · 1 year

Text

hey guys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my name is aster.

my pronouns are she/her/they/them.

my main is @anxiety-lemsbian

If you want other blogs to follow my art/music sideblog is @phoebes-bridges

i love musicals, especially hamilton, matilda and heathers

my comfort movies are mamma mia and high school musical

likes: cats, phoebe bridgers, finland, vintage teacups, watercolours, music, bracelets, queer people, radio silence, taylor swift, rain, cardigans, knitted vests, embroidery, green, lorde, dangerfield, drawing, quirky stuff, ducks, stars, girls, tumblr, tacos, art, ballgowns, long skirts, oversized shirts/jumpers, sweetpeas, rainbows, alice oseman, daisies, mochi, lily of the valley, eliza and the delusionals, pale sunlight, typewriters, rotary phones, earrings, like three people, lavender, floral scented soaps/conditioners, peppermint lip balm, blue eyes, the texture of velvet, being alone, apple pie, gilmore girls, people using my correct pronouns, heartstopper, little women, reading, nice pink watermelon, british accents, a flower fairies treasury, sarcasm, sunflowers, the ocean when it’s raining or dark, stuff that’s naturally grey (rainclouds, etc.) lemon iced tea, frances janvier, spanish, macarons, bubble tea

dislikes: math, global warming, migraines, the sun, tight clothes, pimples, homophobia, spiders, racism, transphobia, shitty people, terfs, aphobia, tiktok, wasps, watermelon when it’s too red and floury, my father, school, most people, being bad at spanish, being alone when I feel people will judge me for it, depression, anxiety, people being ignorant, my mother, drunk people, smokers, feeling uncomfortable, most men, vomit, rejection, being delusional

i’m a minor

i speak un peqeño español and i love cats

my pronouns page:

i love osemanverse but im especially addicted to radio silence, solitare and loveless (i kin frances sm)

im gay (in a sapphic way)

BETH MARCH STAN OMG

love love love darcy olsson and sam kerr lol

i loveeeee enola holmes

im in love with the one bracelet i own

i have depression and anxiety, and probably asd and adhd

feel free to drop into my inbox at any time i love getting asks

i like sleeping

this is a list of songs i claim as my own:

liability, ribs, no better, stoned at the nail salon and sober II (melodrama) by lorde

happiness is a butterfly and cinnamon girl by lana del rey

not strong enough, anticurse, letter to an old poet and true blue by boygenius

meteor shower by cavetown

the story of us, seven, illicit affairs, you’re on your own kid, would’ve could’ve should’ve, if this was a movie , hoax, i don’t wanna live forever, right where you left me, i can see you, invisible string, the lakes, mirrorball and this is me trying by taylor swift

motion sickness, moon song, graceland too, garden song, kyoto and i know the end by phoebe bridgers

watch you sleep and rue by girl in red

there it goes and you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man) by maisie peters

summer child by conan gray

all-american bitch, brutal, deja vu, lacy, bad idea right?, hope ur ok, teenage dream, get him back! and good 4 u by olivia rodrigo

just exist and cigarette by eliza and the delusionals

ok i think im done

am i done?

i think imma make an aesthetic board actually

lets do it!!!!

also pls tell me if ur uncomfortable being called babe/darling/love

general DNI's apply, terfs, homophobes, transphobes, NSFW accounts etc etc

have a wonderful day i love you :)

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bqstqnbruin · 4 years

Text

I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme

No one is allowed to get mad that I didn’t finish the reading and finished this instead shhhhh (I read like half of it and then the adhd kicked in) but here we are with another part.

HUGE shoutout to my girl @tkachuk197 for reading through the part I was struggling with. She said it was good, so I’m taking her word for it!

Hope you like it!

Read the whole series: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

_________________________

“I can’t even look at you right now.”

“You don’t mean that.”

-----------------------

You wake up, disoriented and confused as to where you were. You weren’t in your own room, you knew that; the decorations were different, and it definitely wasn’t your bed you were lying in. You feel a strong arm wrapped around you, a hard body pressed against your bare skin as your legs were tangled up in each others. You turn over ever so carefully to see Matthew still asleep, a soft snore escaping from his slightly parted lips as the memories of the night before came flooding back to you. You slept with Matthew.

You.

And Matthew.

Slept together.

Multiple times. You didn’t even remember how many times you did.

You try to untangle your legs from his without waking him up. His eyes flutter open, meaning you failed, but seeing the smile on his face once he saw you made any doubt you had about the last night melt away. Maybe Evelina was right.

“God, you are beautiful,” his raspy voice taking your breath away as he sits up next to you. He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing his lips to yours for a soft, sweet kiss. He pulls away, a soft smile on his face. He takes in a deep, slow breath before letting out, “I can’t believe last night finally happened.”

“Finally?” you ask him.

He lets out a laugh, his hand moving it’s way to the back of your head, tangling in your hair. He puts his forehead to yours, his lips ghosting yours, “You had to know I’ve been wanting this for ages.”

Evelina was right. “I really didn’t,” you admit.

“And yet,” he whispers, “you’re still the smartest person I know.”

You’re the one to kiss him this time. You wouldn’t change anything about the night before, but would you be willing to let it happen again? “Can I use your bathroom and shower?” you ask him.

“Yeah, of course, do you need anything?”

“A shirt for when I get out?” you ask him, starting to get out of bed. Do you try to keep yourself covered for as long as possible? Actually, what was the point? He had already seen your entire body last night. You get up, leaving the sheets behind. Your back was to him, but judging by the sharp inhale immediately followed by him muttering “fuck” under his breath, he couldn’t take his eyes off you as you walked to his bathroom.

You turn on his shower, letting it heat up as he finds you a shirt. Standing in the door, you watch him shuffle through his drawers. He pulls one out, walking over to hand it to you. You take it from him, both of you standing there for a moment, eyes lingering on the others body. “You could get in with me,” you say, a smirk on your face.

His eyes go wide, a smile on his face. “You want that?”

You don’t answer him. Instead, you bite your lip, dropping the t-shirt on the floor and taking him by the hand. Walking backwards to the running shower, your plant your lips on his. You try not to stumble around until he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. You feel the hot water hitting your back immediately, yelling by the sudden shock of the heat.

“Too hot?” he asks, through laughter, putting you down and reaching around you to fix the temperature. You kiss his neck, feeling him swallow hard as your lips connected to his skin. He lets out a moan as you work your way back up to his lips, “You know just how to make me feel great, don’t you,” he says, his hands on the small of your back pressing your body against his.

“I think,” you say between kisses, “we actually need to shower. We’re kind of gross.”

He laughs, reaching behind you again to grab his shampoo. The two of you go about your business, your mind racing as you watched the water fall down his body. He turns you around, his soap now in his hands as he starts washing your back. “Tell me something,” he whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss against your neck.

You try to wrack your brian, fighting from going numb by his hands washing your body. “You know the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland?” you ask him as he turns you around to face him, handing you the soap so you can do the same to him. He smiles and nods, kissing you before letting you continue. You put the soap in your hands, rubbing his shoulders, “Well, the idea comes from the term ‘mad as a hatter.’ When people used to make hats, before knowing the dancers of the element, they would use a lot of elemental liquid mercury. What they didn’t know is that mercury can bind to your blood cells.”

You let the soap rinse off his back, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades as you hear a moan escape his lips. He turns around not letting you finish, kissing your neck. “It binds to hemoglobin the same way that oxygen does,” you explain, feeling him sucking on your neck as your mind flashes back to the day with him at the liquor store. “The difference is that the bond between oxygen and the blood cell is weak enough that it can break, allowing for the cell to travel through the body and continuously delivering oxygen. Mercury is so heavy and forms such a strong bond that it doesn’t break off, stopping the transport of oxygen.”

“And what?” he says, his forehead pressed against yours.

“They go crazy because of lack of oxygen. Hence being mad as a hatter.”

His kisses you again, reaching behind you to turn off the water. “Sounds like you’re my mercury, then.”

You roll your eyes, kissing him again and stepping out of the shower. He follows suit, both of you just getting ready at your own pace. Throwing the t-shirt on, you were surprised by how big it felt on you. Matthew was bigger than you for sure, but not so much bigger that his shirt should be fitting like a dress on you. You hear him mutter something under his breath, turning around to see him staring at you in his clothes.

You smile and shake your head, brushing your hair out. “If I knew how good your clothes looked on me, I would have started giving you stuff ages ago,” he says, his hands snaking their way around your waist, the two of you just standing there.

“You’re being awfully lovely lately,” you tease him, wiggling free from him. “Any chance we can make or order food?”

He takes your hand to lead you out of his room. Walking to his living room, you can hear voices coming from somewhere. You don’t remember turning on the TV at any point in the night, so what was it.

“Took you long enough to come out of there,” you hear Evelina say, Matthew immediately dropping your hand at the sight of her and Elias sitting on his couch, already surrounded by food.

“What are you doing here?” you ask Ev, sitting down next to her, suddenly very aware of the fact that you were only wearing Matthew’s shirt in front of her and Elias.

“I forgot Elias has the spare key,” Matthew says to you before turning to his friend, “But you’re supposed to use it for emergencies, dude.”

Elias shrugs, handing Matthew a container, “Ev texted me last night when Y/N wouldn’t answer her. Your location on ‘find my friends’ said you were here.”

“Yeah, he said he saw you two leave together last night, so it would make sense that you came here with him,” Evelina explains. “And it’s not like you use our key for emergencies, you just barge in,” she adds, earning a scowl from Matthew.

“So you came here to find out?” you ask her, a little annoyed by the intrusion.

“How was I supposed to know you weren’t dead? If you die, I can’t afford rent,” Evelina argues. You can’t help but laugh, even though you knew it was true. You start to play with the collar of the shirt when you see Evelina’s eye’s go wide. “Oh, my god!” she shrieks, grabbing the bag next to her, taking you by the hand and dragging you back to Matthew’s bedroom.

“Jesus, you’re going to rip my arm out, what the hell?”

“You slept with each other!” she practically screams.

“Can you not scream about that? How could you tell?” you hiss at her, covering her mouth.

Pushing your hand out of the way, she starts again, “You always play with your shirt collar after you’ve slept with someone, it’s your tell. I know Elias and I have been trying to get you two together but this went from zero to a hundred way too fast for two people ‘not in love,’” her voice turning to a mocking tone at the end.

“Elias was in on it?” you ask her, making the connection back to last night, “That’s what the look was for when we left.”

“What? Nevermind. I thought you didn’t love him.”

“You don’t have to be in love with a boy to fuck him,” you counter, trying to figure out whether or not you were lying. “At most I tolerate him. I like him. As a friend. It’s friends with benefits,” you ramble.

She rolls her eyes at you, clearly unamused by your blatant denial, “It’s amazing how dumb you are. Babe, all you’re wearing is his shirt, and nothing else. We hear the shower turn on and turn off only once, only long enough for one shower and both of you have wet hair, which means you had to be in there together, and clearly,” she says, pointing at the mess that was his bed, “More than just sleeping happened in there. You don’t do that with just anyone. You didn’t sleep with your first boyfriend until you had been together for nearly a year. I’m pretty sure you’ve never given a hickey or gotten one for that matter until you came home from the liquor store. Why are you denying this so much?”

You close your eyes and take in a deep breath. She was right about almost everything. “Can we just leave it at liking him. I’m not in love with him.”

She throws her hands up in surrender, shaking her head and reaching for the bag, “Whatever,” she shoves the bag in your chest, “I brought you a change of clothes. At least be wearing fucking underwear when you get home. I’m leaving.”

She doesn’t look in your direction as she leaves the bedroom. “Ev, wait,” you call after her. You knew she was mad at you. She was obviously annoyed with you for the constant denial. She slams the door just as you reach it, feeling Matthew and Elias’s eyes on you. You lean your back against the door, trying to fight back tears over your best friend storming out on you, your head against the door looking up at the ceiling.

“Hey,” Matthew comes up to you, rubbing your arms, “What just happened?”

“She’s just mad at me for, um,” you start, not making eye contact with Matthew as you try to figure out what to tell him. “Not telling her where I was last night.”

“Shouldn’t you go after her?” he asks, concerned that you were clearly upset about this and not doing the best at showing it.

You run your tongue along your top teeth, shaking your head, “Nah. We’ll work it out when we’re both home. Hey, um,” you say, swallowing back tears, “She brought me a change of clothes and some of my stuff, so I’m going to go change, ok?” He nods, letting you slip past him, wiping a tear away from your cheek as you shut yourself in his room.

“I have never seen you this soft for a girl before,” Elias says.

“What are you talking about?” Matthew says, practically throwing himself on the couch with the food they had brought.

“Like, Evelina’s been trying to tell me that you’re in love with Y/N, so we’ve been trying to get you two together, but I didn’t really believe her until I saw you be soft for her.”

Matthew knew Evelina had a plan, but how was Elias even involved, “And what have you done to get us together?”

He gives Matthew the same annoyed look Evelina gives him when he’s asked a dumb question. “I was flirting with her right in front of you and you short circuited.”

Matthew things about last night, watching Elias trying to get you to dance with him. “Fuck you, man.”

He throws his hands up in surrender, a smirk on his face, “Hey, it worked, didn’t it. You should be thanking me.” Matthew rolls his eyes at him. He really didn’t need his teammates flirting with you to get him to want to be with you.

“It would have happened eventually.”

“You’ve been flirting with her since the day you met. It took me flirting with her to get you two together.”

Matthew stops for a minute. Are you two ‘together?’ He had no idea what last night meant to you. He knew what it meant to him, but to you, it could have meant anything. “I don’t know if we are.” He takes a bite of the food, starting down at the remains in the container and pushing it around with his fork. He wanted to be with you, but he couldn’t do that if you weren’t up for it, too.

Elias shrugs, knowing that whatever he said Matthew would either detest and ignore or go run into the bedroom and do right now. “You could always ask her out on a real date. Not some event with all the guys that leads to you fucking all night.” Matthew nearly chokes on the last bite of food when he hears Elias say that. “I know how you act after you get laid. You’re a little quiet, a little lovey,” he says, adding a little shoulder shimmy at the word ‘lovey.’ He gets up, grabbing his keys from underneath all the napkins and utensils that littered the half eaten breakfast they had brought, “Whatever you do, don’t hurt her. Evelina will have me kill you and I really don’t want to have to hide your body. Have fun, be safe.”

Elias leaves him there sitting on the couch. He knew that Evelina told you to have ten things that you hated about him that you would have to ask him out, but what if he asked you out before you completed the list? Would you have to say no? Or worse: would you want to say no?

He hears you come out of his room, now changed into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. “Hey, I think I’m gonna get going,” you tell him, scooping up the dress that was still on the floor from last night.

“Let me get my keys, I’ll give you a ride,” he says, shuffling the containers around to try to find them buried under there. He could deal with that stuff later. “Let’s go,” he says, waving his key ring in the air.

He extends his hand out for you to lead you down to his car. You’re hesitant to take it, but you do anyway, your fingers intertwining with his. It was weird how well your hands fit together, how well all of you fit together. You never would have thought that you would.

The two of you ride to your place in silence, neither of you sure what to say. He pulls in front of your building, but you don’t want to get out. You don’t want to leave him even though you know you need to talk to Evelina. You let out a sigh, “I don’t want to have to fight with her.”

“If it’s just about being away last night then I’ll just text her and say it’s my fault,” he says, reaching over and taking your hand.

“That’s sweet,” you tell him as he kisses your hand, “but it’s fine. It’s between us, we’ll work it out, we always do.”

He just nods, feeling himself getting nervous. “What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks you, figuring it was now or never.

You form a thin line with your lips, shaking your head, “I don’t know. Right now nothing, why?”

He swallows hard, getting worried that his nerves would get the best of him. Why was he so nervous about this? You just spent the night with each other, you’ve been together before plenty of times. “I was,” he starts, his voice obviously shaking. You look at him, concerned. This wasn’t like him. He normally had more confidence in his pinky than some people had in their entire body. “I was wondering if you would let me take you out? On a date? A real date?”

Would this go against the deal you have with Evelina? Actually, it only would if you couldn’t come up with ten things and then didn’t ask him out at the end of the month. What was the harm of one date. “Yeah, Matty, I would love to.”

He smiles, taking your face in his hands and planting one more kiss on you before you know you have to get out of his car. “I l-” he starts to say, stopping himself, “I’ll see you tomorrow. For our date.”

“For our date,” you repeat, trying to properly process the words. You get out of his car and head up to your place. You were going on a date with Matthew Tkachuk. You were giddy, and you couldn’t wait to tell Evelina about it.

Except you and Evelina had to hash other things out first, your joy and excitement turning to fear and dread over having to fight with her. You two almost never had real fights, so you had no idea what this was going to entail. You get to your apartment, standing outside your door. Finally working up the nerve to go inside, you find Evelina sitting on the couch watching something on TV. “Hey,” you say, closing the door behind you.

“Hi,” she says, not taking her eyes off the screen.

“So?” you say, sitting down next to her. “Can we talk about what happened at Matthew’s?”

“Why?” she asks, turning off the TV, irritation dripping in her tone. “No matter what I tell you about you and Matthew you deny.”

“Ev, you keep forcing the idea of loving him down my throat,” you tell her, trying not to raise your voice, “I understand that you’re rooting for us to be together but it’s just putting pressure on me and I can’t handle it.”

She looks down at her hands in her lap, her lips pursed, “You just,” she says, taking a deep breath, “For as long as I have known you, you’ve been talking about how excited you were to find the guy who would love you more than anything, for everything you are. I think you already know him. It’s Matthew.”

“And I get that. I’m trying to work out my feelings for him on my own, Ev. I love that you’re trying to look out for me, but at a certain point, you constantly telling me that I’m in love with him when I’m confused isn’t helping. Do you know how nervous I’ve been to tell you about last night? I was thinking about you more than I was thinking about him,” you tell her, both of you laughing.

“Please tell me you didn’t yell my name instead of his at any point,” she jokes, both of you cringing.

“I have a feeling Matthew would have had a lot of questions about that if I did.” You look at your best friend, knowing she’s just looking out for her, “Can you please just go a little easier on the whole, ‘I love Matthew thing?’”

“You just have to let me know when you figure it out,” she says, pulling you in for a hug.

“You’ll probably know before he does.”

She pulls away, you surprisingly shocked that this turned out easier than you thought it would be. “So, how was it?” she asks, a devilish grin on her face.

You laugh again, not shocked that she would ask something about it. You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks as you think about the night before. “It was great. He’s taking me out tomorrow night.”

Her jaw drops, “On a date?” she squeals, jumping up and down on the couch. You spend the rest of the afternoon recounting as much as you wanted about the previous night to her. Your phone buzzes with texts from Matthew, asking you how your conversation with Evelina went.

You spend the rest of the day on the couch with your roommate, turning on the game to watch Matthew and the guys play. At one point between periods, he sends you a rare ‘during game’ text.

‘Fuck me’ he sends, referencing a bad penatly he took that luckily didn’t result in anything for the other team.

‘Tell me when, tell me where, any time, and I’m there,’ you send back, showing Evelina before you hit send. He responds back immediately, with just the red emoji that has it’s tongue sticking out, with the water droplet by it’s eye.

“You’re rhyming? This boy has you rhyming?” she asks. You could tell she wanted to say more about it, but you were thankful she didn’t. The game ends, the boys winning in overtime, thank god. “Oh, what about the list?”

You look at her, not even sure if the list was still in the fridge when you threw it in there the other day. You meant to take it out, but you know for sure that you never did. “What about it?”

“You’re going on a date with him. I think that means you’re dating him, even if he isn’t your boyfriend. Do you still want to finish it?”

You sit there and think for a moment, staring blankly at Gio giving an interview after the game. If it weren’t for the list, would you even be in this position right now? Would you be thinking about Matthew in any way other than as your friend? “Yeah, I think I do,” you tell her, making a mental note to pull it out of the fridge or just start a new one.

“Really?” she asks, shocked, “The point of it is that you’re writing out the things you hate about him. Why would you want to keep that going if you’re going out with him?”

“You said it was to prove that I didn’t love him. I still need to figure out if that’s true.”

Her face drops, obviously upset that it seems like you were taking three steps back from the step forward you had taken the night before. The list just let you deny your feelings for him, she thought. But what could she do to stop you from finishing it? “Do you want to add anything to it?”

“If we can find it, yeah,” you say, confusion washing over her face. “It might be in the fridge because he almost saw it when he was over the other day,” you explain.

“What do you want to add?”

Even though you know it’s supposed to be on your ‘hate list,’ you can’t help but smile when you tell her, “The way he makes me rhyme.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #calgary flames #calgary flames imagine #flames #flames imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine

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magma-cjay · 3 years

Text

I made some La Squadra headcanons... hope you enjoy :^)

Risotto Nero

Age: 28

Ethnicity: Sicilian/Egyptian (born in Sicily)

Sexuality: Gay (more closeted/probably doesn't realise)

General headcanons:

- He has Autism, fidgets with smaller objects he keeps in his pockets like pens or keys to help calm him down. When fidgeting with a pen on his desk he can take it apart and put it back together again.

- Social interaction? How do you do that? (Is mostly more talkative around the people he's close to, aka his team. Though usually performs better when it's only atleast 3 or less of them in the same room with him).

- Him and Formaggio are the closest in the group. BFF's! They'd go out and try and find some cats in the alley ways. Ghiaccio is his second closest next to Melone

- He likes animals, alot. Will protect or rescue one if he sees them around or on a mission

- The father figure for La Squadra, and if he sees one of his members in distress he'll do anything he can to help calm them down/soothe them.

- Doesn't get drunk. Period. I think we know why.

- Enjoys the sun, is able to stand in it longer than Illuso or Ghiaccio due to him more able to tan than get sunburnt.

- When he isn't showing off his torso, he prefers warm snuggly jumpers or hoodies. Makes him feel safe and has the same affect as receiving a hug for him.

- Has a few plushies, small bean filled cats and probably a moderately huggable sized bear. Holds it at night while he sleeps

- He'd eat spicy stuff without a blink of an eye. His mama used to make him alot of Mediterranean/Eastern foods like Indian and Egyptian. So he has a hefty tolerance to spice

- Will bite into a lemon. With 0 hesitation. And just eat it as if it were a regular not acidy fruit.

- Doesn't cry much, but when he does he's an ugly crier. Snot and tears running down that man's face, probably clenches his fist or punches something to. Depends on the situation of course.

- Enjoys the bitter taste of Dark chocolate, will eat a whole block of the kitchen made stuff with ease.

- Can lift everyone but Pesci and Illuso as if they were as light as a feather. Pesci and Illuso are a tad more heavier.

- His linguistic skills outside of Sicilian and mainland Italian suck. He's got horrendous English compared to the rest of the group. Relies on Ghiaccio to translate whatever they are saying.

Ghiaccio

Age: 20

Ethnicity: Venezian

Sexuality: Gay/Ace

General headcanons:

- Has ADHD. No doubt.

- Sees Risotto as a father figure, looks up to him for guidance and listens to him the most.

- Got his curly blue hair from his stand awakening! It was a slow process. Risotto checks on it every so often because the more blue and curly it gets, the more powerful his stand becomes.

- Other than Risotto, the closest member in his squad is Melone! They get along the best in the group. They have similar intellect and both like to learn about eachothers passions! (Without it getting sexual of course)

- His insults? No rapper could ever compare to the zany things this gremlin comes up with! He'll slaughter you with his words and his stand!

- Can speak multiple languages! The best at English other than Melone, Formaggio and Pesci in the group! Hates it when people pronounce things wrong (wow, that was obvious) and also hates slang. It gets on his gears when Formaggio uses it.

- Loves cats! They calm him down! He doesn't want to hurt the little critters! Unfortunetly too shy to go out and actively find them, but will promptly beat the ever loving fuck out of you if you hurt a cat in his vision.

- Doesn't let anyone but Melone, Pesci and Risotto touch his curls. You will be frozen if you aren't them.

- Enjoys crunching on Ice cubes, the sound is satisfying and he finds the taste nice.

- Hates asparagus and avoids it like the plague, same with Coriander. It tastes like soap! Ew!

- Has warm showers to balance out his stand that makes him colder than the average person. Won't turn it up too high otherwise he burns.

- Burns easy in the sun, wears alot of sunscreen.

- The lightest member of La Squadra after Melone! Will scream if you pick him up.

- He has muscular thighs and has a light 4 pack! Skating does alot for you!

Melone

Age: 26

Ethnicity: Naples

Sexuality: Pansexual

General headcanons:

- Has sleep paralysis.

- Got a degree in human genetics & Biology!

- Is a maternal figure to his Juniors and would definetly be capable of caring for a baby.

- Will drape himself over Risotto, the man doesn't care how. As long as he isn't doing any weird shit. And Melone will gladly go with those terms.

- Calls Risotto "Rizzy babe/baby" and it drives Ghiaccio and Prosciutto into the wall. Be professional damnit Mel!

- Him and Prosciutto are fairly close, they get along well with only a few minor differences in views. He and Illuso have a stronger bond however.

- Isn't as sexually driven as he seems. Tells Ghiaccio alot of 'apparently' devious things he's done but in all honesty? He isn't that bad. The only thing that's relatively "disgusting" is him being into legs and feet. Other than that? He just knows too much and puts on a persona to see how creeped out other people get.

- Knows everyone's star signs, blood types, DNA and allergies! Puts all the information down on BabyFace.

- BabyFace is basically his own personal laptop, he can play games and hack into servers when he pleases!

- Created most of La Squadra's furniture... with BabyFace. Risotto, Ghiaccio and Illuso are the only three that know that he created it with BabyFace. Ris and Mel are the only ones who knows what people are what furniture. Melone occasionally says hi to them when the others aren't around.

- Melone also has a weird amount of knowledge on dogs. He'll tell you almost everything about a breeds behaviours and traits, to even what is best to give them from toys to food!

- Likes eating Formaggios bags of chips when he isn't looking. He just finds those fatty crispy potatoes in a bag so utterly irresistible!

Prosciutto

Age: 35

Ethnicity: Milan

Sexuality: Bisexual

General headcanons;

- Trans! F-M

- Him and his mother look very similar to eachother. Even more when he was pre transition!

- Smokes cigars.

- Takes like 20 minutes doing up his hair.

- Buys fine wine, won't take the cheap shit.

- He spends daddy's money. But the team doesn't have to know that.

- Enjoys sitting in the sun with a nice glass of wine with olives, hates it when he's disturbed.

- Has some toxic masculinity, doesn't want to look 'weak' infront of the team, or at all.

- Nutures Pesci, the two are very very close. Not brothers, but close. You will not enjoy the wrath of Prosciutto if Pesci is hurt.

- Does the face rubbing with everyone. Wants to make sure everyone can succeed at their task!

- Him and Illuso are, close? They tease eachother in a friendly way, love finding ways to make the other flustered or embarresed. It's a very fun game to them.

- Is probably the 2nd best at using a gun. No one can top the sniper that is Gelato however. But he is learning from him.

- Do not. Mess with his suits. The minute he finds out someone has wrinkled or spilled his suits you will be turned into an old hag. Most of the team knows this. But there's still the oddballs who don't learn...

- Reacts like a normal person to unusual bizarre situations. Who put this inflatable pool into the base? GET IT OUT! STOP SWIMMING IN IT!

- Doesn't like cats, they get hair all over his clothes and vomits up cat treats on his bed. But Illuso and Melone can tell that he himself acts somewhat similar to a cat. Just exclude the puking.

Pesci

Age: 20

Ethnicity: Sardegna

Sexuality: Straight

General Headcanons;

- Him, Gelato and Sorbet? Good friends. BFF's even.

- Is shy, doesn't do well in social situations. But you can tell alot more easier than you could with Risotto

- Enjoys fishing in the coastal waters. Will occasionally go out with Formaggio and Illuso to fish with them.

- The others have tried to show him new drinks, but he'll always stick to milk. It's what his momma gave him when he was younger, a habit he has yet to break.

- His momma was very over protective, unfortunetly causing him to be very anxious and paranoid about many things. It's a surprise he even managed to join the Mafia.

- Likes dogs! Him and Mel can talk about dogs for hours! Even visit some at shelters. Only wishing they could adopt only to remember they're professions..

- Does pedicures with Sorbet and Gelato every weekend. He makes sure to keep his nails in good condition for them! And they do the same! Sometimes they do makeovers with eachother, he likes looking fabulous on the next mission!

- Likes kids but is terrified to go up to them. But whenever it's him and Risotto, he has a little more confidence. The two wouldn't mind ever giving the homeless children some food or a piggy back ride.

- Is allergic to walnuts. He found that out from a pie Melone made him. Thankfully he came out okay thanks to BabyFace.

- He does indeed hide behind the couch whenever they watch a horror movie. Thankfully Risotto is there with him whenever they do watch them, the man apparently doesn't really enjoy them either. He isn't scared, but he just prefers other genres.

- Is only good at some English due to all the tourists! He felt like he had to learn some so he'd be able to talk to them or help them out with directions.

Illuso

Age: 26

Ethnicity: Spainish

Sexuality: Bisexual

General Headcanons;

- Pillow princess!

- Don't disturb him when he's in the tub, just don't.

- He can sing! He's very loud! But usually sings when no one Is home. Prosciutto and Melone are the only two that have heard his singing voice.

- Teases members of the team constantly, he's just alot meaner with Formaggio.

- Made his outfit! Formaggio and Sorbet absolutely hate it! But he doesn't care about the haters

- He has full control of his pigtails, no one knows how he is able to make them magically float. But that makes it even more fun! They usually start to squirm when he's excited, flustered or scared.

- Is always in his mirrors. Likes the quiet inside, but sometimes he'll get lonely and pop out or ask some of the others to join him inside.

- He's relatively good at cooking, mainly Spanish cuisine. But is learning with Melone how to make baked goods!

- Him and Mel watch TV together, they love making fun of the characters and getting deeply invested into the plot. They binge alot.

- Isn't a snacker, he will only eat snacks if he's watching TV or if he's in the tub. Those are usually grapes.

- He doesn't hate Formaggio. They are quite close! Just thinks some of the things he does and says are absolutely stupid.

- Knows almost everything history wise with his teammates. But still can't find much on Risotto.. one day he will... one day... only knows some of his info from Melones BabyFace. But that's not enough!

- Invades his teammates privacy, he'll pop through the mirrors in they're rooms. No he doesn't care (atleast most of the time)

Formaggio

Age: 27

Ethnicity: Boston

Sexuality: Bicurious

General Headcanons;

- He has a pet name for everyone, most of them don't mind. Gelato and Ghiaccio absolutely hate theirs however.

- Of course as we know in canon, he's the brother of the group. Tries to cheer them up after a particularly glum mission, or if they are just having a bad day.

- Loves cats. Ain't good at taking care of them. Risotto gets annoyed whenever he leaves cats in containers.

- He snacks, alot. Like alot alot. Thankfully he exercises with Sorbet so he maintains his frame.

- Loves pissing off Illuso with the way he eats Spanish food. A disgrace for eating Doritos with Guacamole! But man it's fun to see his face go red! And it tastes good.

- Has the strangest ideas for how to defeat targets. Goes into Risotto's office constantly and babbles on about ideas. Most of the time they are surprisingly accepted. And they work!

- Happily drinks cheap booze, it disgusts Prosciutto. But he doesn't care. Unfortunetly gets drunk after 5 bottles. Doesn't drink infront of Risotto though (atleast not on purpose).

- He loves the beach! Hot babes (and bros?) walking around, it's a paradise for this cheese man! Has to be taken away from the beach by force when they have to go home though.

- Usually wears very loose clothing. He gets too hot easy! Gotta wear something he can breathe in.

- Likes orange chocolate, some of the others judge him for it. But him and Sorbet can snack on that stuff for hours.

- Likes listening to the game on the radio in Ghiaccios car since Illuso and Melone take up the tv too often.

- Is from Boston, so of course he knows English. Sometimes swears in it, but he mainly speaks in Italian now. Knows some Sicilian thanks to Risotto!

#jjba #jjba part 5 #la squadra #headcanons #long #i think about them alot

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