Anon: Just saying, car crashes are angsty ((ALSO LAMS IS GREAT)) :000
Lams sure is great for this prompt!! ;))) Angstliving continues! Here we go, kiddos! <333
Alexander was angry. He was angry at John, he was angry at himself.
His anger must have been noticeable in the way he clicked John’s seatbelt around the slumped boy because John whined and reached for his boyfriend.
“Not now, John,” Alex grumbled. He slammed the passenger side door shut and got into the driver’s side. He let his head drop into his hands for a moment.
“Baaaaabe,” John sighed.
“Not. Now.” Alex said through clenched teeth.
“I didn’t mean to punch him,” John slurred.
“You’re drunk. We aren’t doing this now.” Alexander had had enough of this. John had promised not to drink. Promised.
He knew Alex hated driving, especially at night. Especially when they had a curfew hanging over their heads. Especially when he was going to have to figure out how to sneak an obviously drunk John past the Washingtons, which didn’t feel right, but having them know his boyfriend was drunk while being underage also didn’t sound like a great plan.
He hated the position John had put him in.
Alexander knew that sitting there wouldn’t help them at all, so he begrudgingly started the car and pulled out onto the road. Thankfully the party had been at Aaron Burr’s place, in a suburban neighborhood that bordered the one the Washingtons lived in, so they weren’t far from home, but it was still unfamiliar to Alex. And it was still dark out. And his boyfriend was still drunk and bloody.
“Lee started it,” John mumbled unprompted.
“You should’ve walked away,” Alex said.
“I can take him.”
Alex would have rolled his eyes if they weren’t so glued to the road. “Yeah, tell that to your bruised ribs and bloody nose.”
“He only got the best of me ‘cause I’m druuuuunk,” John said.
“No, he got the best of you because you’re drunk and because he’s a burly upperclassman who works out regularly. Even sober you had no chance, and you know that,” Alex said.
He hated John’s self-destructive streak. He knew that was why his boyfriend drank. Why he picked fights he would most certainly lose.
“I’m strong,” John said, his voice fading.
Alexander knew that if he looked over at John, his eyelids would be fluttering shut. Normally that was the cutest, sweetest sight in the world. But not tonight.
Tears started to swell in Alexander’s eyes. He was torn between his worry over John and his anger at him.
Just as he was trying to blink away his tears, Alex noticed a shape slowly crossing the road, no more than ten feet ahead of him. Deer!
Alex slammed on the brakes and swerved the car away from the creature, toward the sidewalk, which his wheels promptly bumped into, jolting John awake.
Alexander panted as he watched the deer hightail it across the rest of the abandoned road, and he thanked whatever god may or may not be up there that he’d been going 25 miles per hour, five under the speed limit, instead of five, or more, over.
“A-alex?” John stammered.
Alex couldn’t say anything. I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. He’d nearly seen death again. He’d nearly killed his boyfriend. It was too much.
He felt a warm hand slip into his. “You’re shaking,” John said.
“I’m sorry, John,” Alex whispered, his eyes glued to the spot in the road where the deer had first appeared.
“Why are you apologizing?” John asked.
“I nearly killed us,” Alex said as if in a trance where words held no weight because if they did, they’d be crushing, and Alexander was too fragile for that at the moment.
I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory.
“Let’s get home,” Alexander said robotically.
“Alex,” John said, reaching to place his hand on his boyfriend’s arm.
Alex jerked away before John could make contact. He pulled back out onto the road, and a silence descended upon the car for the remaining seven minutes of their drive home.
When they got to the Washington’s, Alex cut the engine, but made no move to get out of the car. He didn’t even unbuckle his seatbelt.
“Alex, talk to me?” John pleaded.
“I…” imagine death so much it feels more like a memory “I’m so sorry, John.” He shook his head, the daze that had befallen him post-deer-incident was seemingly lifting. “First I couldn’t keep you from drinking, then I couldn’t stop you from fighting Lee even though that’s like a death-wish––” Alex’s breath hitched as the word left his lips. John remained still, eyes glued to Alex.
“And then I nearly get us killed driving like ten fucking minutes through quiet backstreets.” Alex was shaking, but this time with rage instead of shock.
“Alex,” John said, sounding more sober than Alex knew he was. “I’m responsible for drinking and fighting. And I let you down. I said I’d drive, then I got drunk. None of this is your fault.”
“I’m so worried,” Alex whispered, his voice cracking on the last syllable.
“About what?” John asked softly.
Alex turned to him, eyes wide and watery. “You,” he said. “I know you hate yourself.”
John physically recoiled at the words, but he didn’t attempt to deny them.
“I’m afraid I’ll lose you,” Alex continued.
“It’s not your fault, Alex, how I feel and how I handle those feelings.”
“No, but it is my responsibility to help you,” Alex countered. He unbuckled his seatbelt and reached over, doing the same to John, who looked at him bewilderedly.
“What’re we doing?” he asked.
“Going inside,” Alex said.
Alex cut him off by hopping out of the car, slamming his own door shut in the process, and opened up John’s. He held a hand out to his boyfriend. “I know,” Alex said. “I want them to see us.”
“What? Why? I must look like––”
“Like a drunk teenager who picked a fight with someone twice his size?” Alex offered. “Yeah, you do. Now come on.”
Whether it was because he was drunk or because he was stunned by what Alexander was doing–– or maybe a bit of both–– John took Alex’s hand and stepped out of the car, swaying a bit in the process.
Alex held him close as they slowly made their way toward the front door. Before Alex could even put his key in the lock, it swung open.
“John? Alex? Are you okay?” Martha asked, her eyes scanning the two boys, her brows creasing in worry as she took in the dried blood on John’s face and sweatshirt.
“Yeah,” Alex said. “Well, we will be.” He looked at John, who nodded at him. “Can we talk with you and Dad?”
Martha took John’s other arm and led the two boys into the house. “Of course,” she said. “You can always talk to us.”
Alex squeezed John’s hand, and John squeezed back. They moved into the house together, knowing that whatever came next, they had each other.
rated m for maybe a lil long
word count: 4,019 sugakookie scenario for flowerkook cause yoongi is not ur bias and good luck with finals and ur exam!! <3
You are not good at
math. Jungkook isn’t either. But maybe two brains really are better than one
and well, a week before your final seems like a good time to test it out so lo
and behold, you’re bowing your way into Jungkook’s house, which he tells you is
empty over his shoulder, kicking his shoes off at the front door.
“I think its okay to have a lot of romances. It’s part of experiencing
life but marrying only once is nice. I can spend my whole life with this
person. I believe romance exists in order to meet a person like that.”
–Ren Jinguji, ASAS booklet
Words describing Ren:flirty, passionate, eccentric, fiery, adventurous, cunning, relaxed
Blood type: B
Birthday: February 14th
Zodiac: Aquarius ♒️
“I acted cold but I really wanted to hug you, hold your hand and kiss you, I want to lend you a shoulder whenever you cry.”
–Ren Jinguji, UtaPri Repeat, Along with a Cantabile Kiss(Maji Love End)
Ren admires all things Mediterranean- the cuisine, culture, locations, languages, beaches, activities- he has a thing especially for Italy.
He enjoys photography so a good birthday gift would be a camera. He randomly clicks pictures and puts them either in an album or he would create a “picture wall”, on it you’d find sceneries, animals, candid pictures of his s/o and some pictures of him and his friends to name a few.
He likes to pack his bags and fly/drive off to any place out of the the blue. He sees no reason as to why someone should not travel; its one of his passions.
Mr. Fashion expert, his wardrobe is goals and he is one to use the phrase “I swear on my Chanel” when jokingly defending himself. He also wouldn’t mind running a blog on fashion and his aesthetics.
He once joked that he should write a novel on all his “love-filled” adventures with ladies. Syo groaned and replied that such a book would never finish.
His cooking would send you to heaven. He enjoys spicy food and can cook a variety of cuisines, he doesn’t mind desserts either but he is not a fan of chocolate.
I also have this headcanon where Ren knows how to play the saxophone part in George Michael’s “Careless Whisper” by heart. Just enough to swoop away your heart eh? ;)
Romeo here is also aware of the language of flowers so the next time he sends you an exquisite and intricate bouquet, make sure to google the flowers and their meanings ~
His Hogwarts house is Gryffindor or alternatively, Slytherin
Anonymous: I just want some angsty lams and some John brushing Alex’s hair comfortingly pretty please? I don’t care what kind of angst at all, but I really want hair brushing and you write lams so well. Please and thank you! You are awesome! Love ya! ❤
You got it, bby! ;) I hope you and the rest of the kiddos enjoy this fic! Thank you to my wonderful friend Binna @ciceroniantrash for angsting with me as I wrote this! (Also, pssst @chickensauras! This is the fic I’d started last night! ^.^) <333
“Alexaaaander?” John singsonged as he walked into their dorm room. He looked over at Alex’s bed and smiled at the lump huddled up under the covers.
John walked over to Alex and gently tapped him where he thought his shoulder was. “Hey, babe, I’m back. Wanna get sushi?”
The lump did not move. John tapped Alex again. Still no response.
“Alex?” he said slowly, as if not wanting to startle his boyfriend.
“I’m pulling the blanket back now,” John said. He took the cover in his hands and cautiously pulled it back.
Alex was curled up in a tiny ball under it, eyes open, staring at the wall, though John could tell Alex couldn’t really see anything.
“Oh, babe,” John said softly.
As he studied his boyfriend more and more, he realized that Alex was in a fresh shirt, but still had his pajama bottoms on, likely meaning he’d tried to get dressed and go to class before crawling back in bed. John’s heart sunk at the thought. Alex’s class started at 9:30. It was past 12:30 now. He absolutely hated the thought of his boyfriend being alone and in pain for that long.
He climbed up onto the bed with Alex and moved the boy’s head into his lap. He ran his fingers through Alexander’s dark locks, hoping the gentle touch would slowly bring him back from wherever he’d gone.
Alexander slowly tilted his head up toward John and blinked his eyes a few times. John smiled down at him, trying his best to hide the worry he knew was written all across his freckled face.
“Hey,” John said softly. “You okay?”
Alex stared at him for a moment longer before shaking his head no. John felt his heart leap into his throat.
Alex is never this forward. He tried to see the positive side, that at least Alex was being honest with him, but he had a feeling it was more like Alex is tired of hiding how he really feels from him.
“That’s okay,” John said soothingly. “That’s completely fine. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Alex stared up at him, expression unchanging, as if the words were taking longer than usual to make sense to him. John recalled Alex explaining how it felt sometimes, a few months ago, around three am during finals week, when he’d been awake for two days straight and drank more coffee than should be legal.
“It’s like… like a huge cloud,” he’d said, spreading his arms as far as they’d go. “And, and it just descends upon me and stuffs itself into my head, which I know is big, but it’s not that big.” He winked at John. “And it makes it hard to think, because imagine having a cloud in your head, John. Imagine.”
“Um, yeah…” John had said, not wanting to reveal how uncertain, how confused, he was in the moment.
“I can use another metaphor. I can make literally a million, probably.”
“That’s okay, babe, the cloud is good,” John assured him. “So it’s hard to think?”
“Oh, yeah, hella. Thankfully it doesn’t get too extreme very often, but when it does…” Alex raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend.
“What happens?” John asked, almost not wanting to hear the answer, but knowing he needed to because what if if happened again and Alex needed him.
“When it gets really bad, which has happened…” Alex paused and looked up at the ceiling as if it held the answer he was searching for. “It’s happened twice. Once when my mother died, but I guess I had to snap out of it pretty quick because I got put into the system and all that.”
John wanted to tell Alex that depression wasn’t something he could just snap out of, but he also didn’t want to interrupt Alexander. He filed it away to bring up later, maybe after Alex got some sleep and drank a normal (for him) amount of coffee.
“And the second time was during our senior year of high school.”
John felt his heart drop. Senior year. They’d been best friends for two years by that point. Why hadn’t he known?
“It was… remember when I was out sick for a week? With the flu?”
John thought for a moment, then recalled Lafayette lugging home Alex’s books and assignments, asking John and Herc and Eliza for homework from classes they had with Alex.
“Yeah,” John said slowly, not sure he liked the direction this was going in.
“Well, it, uh, wasn’t the flu.”
John felt like someone had slapped him. He’d failed at being there for Alex. He’d completely and utterly failed.
Alex must have been able to sense how John was feeling because he quickly tried to reassure him. “John, babe, oh my god. Please don’t feel bad? Even Laf didn’t fully know what was going on. I wouldn’t let him near me for very long, and with all the tissues strewn across the bed, well, he thought it was the flu, too, until a few weeks later I told him.”
“I… I just feel horrible that I didn’t notice.”
“But I hid it. On purpose,” Alex stressed. “I was, well, kinda ashamed? I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to think that I was weak or weird.”
“I would never,” John said quickly.
“I know, but I was… it was an irrational fear,” Alex said. “And obviously I got over it.”
John had to smile at that. Yes, John thought. Clearly he has.
But now John was sitting with Alex on his dorm bed, trying to keep himself from panicking because his boyfriend is not okay, very not okay, and he doesn’t know what to do.
He tried to recall what Alex said about the cloud, about what helped, but it’d been like he himself didn’t really know what would be helpful, since it had happened so few times.
Think, think, John commanded himself. What helps Alex normally?
John quickly went through the list of things that typically comforted his boyfriend when he was depressed. There was peppermint tea, funny YouTube videos, and fuzzy blankets. Seeing as Alex was pretty unresponsive at the moment, John doubted that he could get him to drink tea, and felt that Alex wouldn’t be able to watch a video, but the blankets were doable.
“Babe, I’ll be right back,” he said, hoping Alex heard him. He gently shifted his boyfriend off of his lap and walked across the small room to his bed, where there were two folded blankets, then he opened up Alex’s closet, where they kept an especially fuzzy blanket that Martha had sent to him earlier that year when he had a bad cold.
John tossed the blankets on the bed and then grabbed his two pillows and stuffed turtle and threw them into the pile. He set about making a cozy, comfy nest of pillows, shifting Alex into the center with blankets draped around him.
John was about to climb onto the bed when he noticed Alex’s hair brush was near the foot of his bed, teetering, about to tumble to the floor. He must have meant to brush his hair, John thought.
Hair! John thought excitedly. He loves to have his hair played with.
He grabbed the brush and climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself behind Alex, who had kind of slumped over in John’s absence.
“Hey, babe,” John said softly as he sat his boyfriend back up, the unseeing look still in his eyes.
The cloud descends upon me. Alex’s voice echoed in John’s mind.
“I’m gonna brush your hair now. Does that sound good?” He didn’t expect Alex to reply, so when he didn’t, he wasn’t shocked.
He simply took Alex’s curls, which he hadn’t even bothered to put into his signature ponytail, and first ran a gentle hand through them. Then he began to brush his boyfriend’s hair, starting at the bottom, recalling his sister, Mary Eleanor, instructing him to do so when he’d used to help her brush her hair before school.
He paid each section of Alex’s hair special attention, humming a French song he knew Alex loved as he did so. Slowly, he felt Alex sitting up more on his own. He felt his head resist the tug of the brush when John accidentally hit a snarl.
John tried not to get too excited or too hopeful, but he couldn’t help the miniscule smile that found its way onto his face.
He simply kept brushing Alex’s hair, the only sounds in the room his humming and the brush smoothing out Alex’s black locks.
When he finished, Alex’s hair was a bit frizzy, but incredibly soft. John recalled Alex telling him once that he loved to have his hair braided, especially in two braids. He may have been slightly drunk at the time, but John knew Alex just opened up more when he was drunk; he never lied.
John pulled his own hair out of the bun he’d haphazardly thrown it into that morning before class and grabbed his boyfriend’s wrist, where he knew another hair tie would be waiting. He gently pulled it off, then braided Alex’s hair.
When he was done, he ran his hand over both of Alex’s braids. “So pretty,” John whispered.
He wrapped his arms around Alex from behind, pulling him close. He nearly gasped when Alex’s hands reached up and wiggled their way into his own.
“Thank you,” Alex hoarsely whispered.
“Anything for you,” John said, trying his best not to let the tears of relief that had gathered in his eyes fall.
Alex settled back against him, his head on John’s shoulders. He shut his eyes, and John tugged the blankets up over them more, then leaned back into the nest of pillows.
He kissed Alex on the crown of his head. “Anything for you,” he whispered. “Anything.”
This is a gift for cupcake @sabomuii! She’s the person who got me into MysMe, so I thought this would be fitting. Yoosung is probably one of her favorite characters in the game and sunflowers are beautiful, so this came out!!! I never drew flowers before but I hope it looks okay. ;v;
Anonymous: hi, so this may sound weird but can you write something about Alex and George w. like having 101 family time like you know father and son bonding and stuff :) bye have a good day
I sure can, kiddo!!! I hope you enjoy this super fluffy fic as Alex and George have family bonding time in the fluffy, freshly fallen snow! :D Also, sorry bc I know my geography might be a bit off here, but I haven’t been to Mount Vernon since I was 11 (hoping to go again this summer tho ahhh) so I’m kinda imagining a bit of Monticello’s landscape just to make this work. I hope you kiddos enjoy it regardless of me playing around with geography! (read my other lil fics here)
It wasn’t Alexander’s first snow. No, there’d been a freak snowstorm last March, when he’d arrived at the Washington’s, his first and final foster home.
So while this wasn’t Alex’s first snow, it had a much more magical first snow quality to it than that March snowstorm. This time it was mid-December, Martha had decked the halls of Mount Vernon with more Christmas decorations than Alexander had ever seen, and the snow was gently coating the earth in a way that reminded him of how his mother used to dust his toast with cinnamon to celebrate his good grades.
His pang of longing for his mother was interrupted by a knock on his bedroom door. He looked back and forth from the clock to the door, confusion warping his face. It was just past seven. Nobody, save Lafayette, who was currently at Hercules’ for a sleepover, ever knocked on his door at such an early hour on a Saturday.
Alex wrapped his fuzziest blanket, a gift from John, around his shoulders and got out of bed to open the door.
“Hi, son,” George said as soon as Alex had cracked the door open. “I know it’s early, but there’s something I want to show you.” George cleared his throat, his eyes darting from Alexander to the floor. Was George… nervous? “It’s outside, um, a bit of a walk, not far. Well worth it, or at least I think it’s well worth it.”
“Okay,” Alex said, too curious about what it was George wanted to show him to worry about the cold. “I’ll just change.”
“Keep your sweatpants on,” George said. “They’re much warmer in the cold than jeans.” He smiled at the boy.
“Okay,” Alex said, staring at George a moment longer before shutting the door. He let the blanket fall off of his shoulders as he stood in front of his closet and sifted through his hoodies, searching for the warmest looking one.
He settled on his Yorktown hoodie, his favorite because he’d acquired it during his first ever family vacation with the Washingtons that past summer.
What could George want to show me at seven in the morning? Alex shrugged to himself. Whatever it was, he knew it would be good.
Even though he’d been at the Washington’s since March, he still didn’t know George too well. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, but rather that his foster father intimidated him a bit. He was a silent, humble, yet commanding type of man. Frankly, Alexander had no idea what to make of him, but he had an idea he was about to learn a bit more about his foster father.
After Alex and George were adequately bundled up, their snow boots laced tightly, George led Alex out the front door and had him sit on the bench on the porch. He picked up two strange, wicker objects.
“I’m going to take a wild guess here, but you’ve never snowshoed before, right, son?” George asked with a smile.
“I don’t even know that it is,” Alex admitted.
George’s face lit up in a way Alex rarely witnessed. It made him feel special. Even though he hadn’t done anything at all, it made him feel like he’d done something good.
“Here, let me get these on you,” George said, bending down to fasten the contraptions on Alex’s feet. “Snowshoes make it easier to walk on the snow,” George explained. “They distribute your weight more evenly to keep you from sinking too far down.”
George moved onto getting his own snowshoes on his feet. “They’ll be a little difficult to walk in at first, but as long as you walk the way you normally would, you’ll quickly get the hang of it.” George smiled up at Alex as he closed the last clasp on his own foot.
George held out a gloved hand to Alexander. “Ready, son?”
Alex nodded, a tentative smile spreading across his face.
George helped him down from the front steps and held him steady until Alex was able to walk without teetering too much.
“Woah,” Alex exclaimed. “These are so cool!” After about five minutes of practice, he was practically running across the front lawn.
“Are you up to a little adventure?” George asked.
“Heck yeah!” Alexander exclaimed.
He felt more like himself–– his old self, from his early childhood on Nevis–– than he had in years. For once, his worries weren’t silencing him. He felt like he could just be. It was as if the snow and these snowshoes had set him free in some mysterious way.
Maybe it was because he felt like he was floating above the earth as he and George trotted behind Mount Vernon, across the large back lawn, toward the slight cliff that overlooked the Potomac.
After fifteen minutes of a comfortably silent hike, they arrived near the cliff’s edge. George stopped and Alex came to a halt, too. Before them was the Potomac. Parts of it looked icy, other parts were still flowing. The trees for as far as Alex could see in any direction were covered in a splendid white. Snow was still falling around them, making a gentle pitpat sound. The whole scene felt unreal. Alex’s face lit up in complete awe.
“This is my favorite place,” George said after a few moments. “And this is my favorite season to visit it during.”
“It’s so… peaceful,” Alex whispered, feeling as if he should be quiet in the face of such wonder.
George smiled down at Alex. “That it is.”
They stared out at the Potomac for a few more moments, Alex doing his best to commit the scene, the morning spent with George, to memory.
“Alexander, there’s something Martha and I have been meaning to ask you.”
Alex looked up at George and was surprised to see the serious look that had overtaken his foster father’s face.
“Yeah?” he said, trying to keep the fear budding in his chest from his voice.
“No matter what your answer, your situation here won’t change. I want to make that clear.”
Alex wasn’t sure what George meant, but he wanted to know what he had to ask him, so he just nodded.
“We want to adopt you, Alex,” George said, his voice as soft as the falling snow.
Alex’s breath hitched.
“Martha, Gilbert, and I love you. We adore you, son,” George said. “And we would be honored if you would become a part of our family.”
Alex could only stare up at George in shock for a moment, his mouth agape. For once, he was entirely speechless.
“Yes,” he finally managed. “Oh my god, yes.”
That was when he noticed George was crying. It wasn’t like when Alex himself cried, which he knew he would be doing later, once the news really sunk in. It was a quiet, dignified kind of cry. Silent, but meaningful. Much like George himself.
“This makes me so happy, son,” George said, his voice sounding only slightly less composed than usual. “This is going to make Martha and Gilbert so happy.” He smiled at Alex.
Alex couldn’t help it. He leapt toward George, wrapping his arms tightly around his new father.
George hugged him back and pressed a kiss to the crown of Alex’s hooded head. “I love you, son. I love you so much and every day I’m grateful you found your way to us.”
Alex finally started to cry, his warm tears mingling with the cool flakes of snow that fell on his cheeks.
Love. Family. He had them again. He had what he thought he’d never have again. He pulled away from George, a huge smile on his face.
“I love you, too,” he said.
George clasped his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “What do you say we go back home? Martha was planning on making pancakes, and we have that delicious Vermont maple syrup the Adams sent us.”
“That sounds perfect,” Alex said.
And so they walked back to Mount Vernon, a silence once again descending between them. The closer they got to the house, the more Alex felt something warm blooming in his chest. When the white building came into view, he, for once didn’t think of it as the Washington’s.
Valentine's Day hcs for how Abbacchio would spend the day with his s/o please?
[ Ok this might be a bit short I’m v v sorry I like abbabby too but I’m such at a lost for ideas for him but uh theres like 2 more abba asks so you’ll see a lot more of him today at least. ALSO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG IM WORKING ON THE REST TOO :(]
✖ LEONE ABBACCHIO ✖
- Abbachio would take this day quite seriously, seeing how he usually doesn’t know how to spend time with you in a romantic way, all the ideas that come to him with all the Valentine’s offers help - He’s actually romantic for once today, bringing you a single flower, though it wasn’t a rose you really appreciated the effort. He wouldn’t hold your hand while you two are out, but instead give you a quick hug before asking you to follow him. - Abbacchio would be the kind to entirely plan out the date, he knows where he wants to bring you and the quickest route there, having already made reservations too. - He makes sure you’re always close to him, not enough to disturb his personal bubble but enough for a passerby to know you two are more than friends. - Along with this the mood compared to usual is a lot lighter, with him letting the silver of a smile appear on his lips a bit more. Today was Valentine’s, his work stress could come in later instead of now. - He would pick a secluded restaurant, yet it would also uphold the best ratings, considering he spent a while preparing and planning for it, it would be candle lit, having booked a whole room for just the two of you. Not only to be romantic but he rather the privacy. - The dinner would be a full course meal, every dish to both you and Abbacchio’s liking. He’d hold a light conversation with you, all his attention still on you though. You can see him just take in your beauty although he won’t admit to staring. - He isn’t the kind to feed you but instead he’ll be one to just grab the napkin and clean your face of any small stain that he notices. Its his off affectionate style that ended up being his charm point anyway. - When the date is over you bet you 100% he’ll send you home, no matter how busy he is he makes it a thing to always send you home, he likes knowing you’ve made it home safely and if he really had to leave he always personally checks in on you the same night or gets someone to go home with you instead. - After sending you back he’d wait at the door and grab your arm before you turn in. Valentine’s was special after all. For the first time in a long while, he would be the one to initiate a kiss, it would be quick but it sure as hell made you the happiest person on earth. Of course the late night mixed in with the extremely romatic atmosphere didn’t end there. As you slowly close the door he’d hold it back for a little bit before leaving in embarrassment. - “ Goodnight…ti amo tesoro mio.”