otp: i love italian and so do you

okay but prussia constantly antagonizing romano by getting things off of high shelves for him even though romano can reach them just fine and he’s getting so annoyed all the time while italy is like “??? he’s just trying to be helpful he does that for me too??” and romano’s like “nO YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND”

Music from my Heart

Before reading: English is not my first language and I swear I have never written anything so long before (in english, of course. I really like writing in Italian and I wanted to try to write a fic in english…) So, please TELL ME if there are grammar errors and I’ll fix them. It’s an experiment and I’d like to think what do you think ;v; (((pls don’t be mean))) 
Anything else to say, ehhh…. I really hope you like it ;v; 

Characters: Clea Strange/Doctor Strange
Rating: green (slice of life, fluff)
It’s set during the 1st year of Clea being on Earth, so more or less like in the early 70s comics

It was a dark evening in New York and the rain was hitting the windows of the Sanctorum like little stones.
Clea had been studying for hours and her attention started to fade more often minute after minute. Stephen had been gone some time before to help a man whose son was possessed by a sort of demon, while Wong was tidying up the library, so she was basically alone.
She needed a pause from studying.
Clea had been living in the Sanctum Sanctorum for almost a year and still didn’t see all the rooms in that weird house, so she closed the old book, casted a purple ball of magical fire and went to explore.
That house was like a labyrinth, changing its rooms and corridors at its own will, but Clea had come from the Dark Dimension, where the concepts of space and time were different, so she wasn’t bothered by the mansion’s transformations.
The luminescent ball, floating above her hand, gave the forniture a creepy light.
A stair appeared when the sorceress turned a corner and she decided to climb it towards a closed door without hesitation. She was almost reaching it when suddenly a noise came from the inside: someone made something fall down and now was running in the room.
Clea turned the light ball into a bigger ball of fire and slowly opened the door, ready to hit whatever was there.
But it was only a little bat, that escaped the room flapping its wings as the door opened, leaving Clea a bit confused.
“Oh well, I was expecting a demon or a monster… poor little creature, locked here!”
The purple flame enlighted the whole room, revealing many old boxes and cupboards, some lamps and a huge black table.
That table got Clea’s attention.
It wasn’t a table, it was too high and its shape was too strange to be a table.
“That’s a piano!”
“WHOA! Stephen! I-I didn’t hear you coming!”
The sorcerer was right behind her, leaning on the jamb, still wrapped in the Cloak of Levitation.
“I’m sorry Clea, I didn’t mean to scare you… what are you doing up here?”
“I was just exploring the house, then I found this room, that’s it.”
They looked at each other for a moment and Clea noticed a little wound on Stephen’s cheek. He looked a bit tired too.
“So, did you defeat that demon?” She got near him and started to heal the scratch with a warm spell.
“Yeah, that child is safe and sound now. That demon was pretty strong though! Thanks, love.”
“You’re welcome, my dear!”
With the hand still on his face, the sorceress gave him a soft kiss, recieved by Stephen like a sip of warm tea after a stressful day.
“So, going on with it, what’s that "pieno”?“
"It’s piano, Clea, it’s a musical instrument! Listen!”
He moved beside the piano and pressed some keys gently.
“It has a beautiful sound!” She tried to play as well, jiggling whenever a new note came out. “I love it, why is it locked up here?”
“Well… it was a gift from an old lady who needed my help. A ghost was haunting her house, I chased it away and she gave me this piano to thank me.”
“Wow, It looks like a great gift!”
“It is, and I was also a really good pianist before… well…”
Stephen stopped and looked at his shaking hands, covered in scars and always in pain.
“… I can’t play it anymore. It hurts too much, so I decided to lock the piano here.”
Clea posed her hands on Stephen’s and started caressing them, slowly, gently, feeling the special bond between the two of them. Stephen let her see his memories of the past, when he was a doctor, had a beautiful calligraphy and could play the piano. She felt his happiness while playing, his passion and his love for music; then the abyss in his heart, opened when he found the impossibility of playing again and never filled.
When Clea opened her eyes, she found a tear running on her cheek.
“Don’t worry, Clea, I accepted the fact I can’t play as I did with medicine… I’m a sorcerer now and that’s the important thing.” he sighed, wiping away the tears from her wife’s face.
“But you liked playing so much! I felt it! You’re still a doctor, a different kind of doctor, but you still save lives… playing the piano is different, you can’t- ”
She suddenly stopped and a glimpse of light flashed in her icy blue eyes.
“What?” Stephen didn’t move while the sorceress started tidying up the piano and blowing away the dust. Then she grabbed him by his shoulders and sat him on the chair, in front of the piano, taking away the Cloak of Levitation from his back, leaving it floating in the room.
“Clea, in the name of the Vishanti, what are you doing?” He was more confused than when the Ancient One was explaining him things about magic and the multiverse. Sometimes he just couldn’t figure out what was going on in Clea’s mind.
She sat on the piano, lying down like a singer, looking Stephen right in the eyes.
“You are too focused on your hands to figure out that you can play the piano again!” She said, messing up his white-striped hair and giving him a lovely smile.
He started to understand and felt a bit stupid for being so slow.
“Ok, let me see…” he looked at his hands again, and then he focused on the piano’s keyboard. Without any touching, he pressed a white key, then another one.
Going on faster, key by key, he used his magical mind to play one of his favourite melodies without the use of his hurt hands, but with telekinesis.
“I can! I CAN PLAY IT!” A whirl of magic and music flew out of him, together with a carefree laugh. He missed that SO much!
Clea jumped down the piano and sat close to Stephen, kissing him and hugging him tight.
“See? You can do anything!” she whispered.
“Not without you, my love.” he answered, kissing her on the forehead.
They stayed embraced like that for hours, playing and singing together, in tune with each other.

It was a dark evening in New York and the rain was hitting the windows of the Sanctorum like little stones, but another music was wrapping the house, covering everything in peace and harmony.

“I’ve never loved someone as much as I love Hide.”

Me and my little sister @samobojcowkaren ship Hidekane so fucking much, that we decided to do togheter our supreme OTP.
She’s my fav Hide in the world asfhchahvhf

I’m trash for aesthetics so, a little shitty edit I made~

**I’ve just noticed that I’ve got 200 readers!
It’s a loooot of people for me omg ∩˙O˙∩
I own a little trash blog, I’m really surprised that so many people actually like it LOL
anyway, thank you all! (๑^ں^๑)♡**

Kpop Gay Fic Rec #6






Hey hey!! Time for another fic rec!! I really like doing these. January was a bitch to me emotionally but it was nice in the fanfiction kind of way. I went back to reading Vmin (which was my first OTP in BTS) and it reminded me how well that dynamic works. I won’t change my ship tho!! Taekook is life!!! (High fives for username references). Anyways, these are all very dirty because I’m a sinner with good faith. Mediocre faith. Okay, no faith at all what so ever.


vietnam, fishing trips, italian opera by pettey

Beautifully written and you probably have never read smut this good. I love it. Totally worth a ten minute car ride and staying up until two in the morning.


Drive Me Wild by lethallergic @lethallergic

Honestly, this was a given. It was bound to be up here and everyone already knew that. It’s a squeal to Hit the Lights and it’s really fucking good. I love the whole snapshat and messaging thing. Clever. 

House of Cards by sugamins @suganams.

Guilty pleasure. Such a pleasure. Will always be on my rec list because the plot is fire. Like I’m going to warn you because of the themes but also because you might be allergic to fire. It’s fire. I warn you.

up with the birds by cerisekiss

you want to cry? read it. You don’t? Still read it. Simple as that. Beautifully written and just a gorgeous idea overall. Applause to the author and anyone else who goes through this without shedding a tear (i was sitting in class, imagine). And I also just found out she commented on PC. I didn’t know this until know. Am I freaking out? Yep.

The Red Thread by MirreRover @mirrerover

Do this to yourself. You won’t regret it. I sure as hell don’t. (p.s. can’t wait for the next update Mirre!! Love you lots!!)

my youth is yours (a truth so loud you can’t ignore) by atechamcham @chimchams

Prince AU. COME ON!!! How can you NOT read this? This is what everyone in this fandom has been waiting for. And get this. They aren’t even supposed to be together!! I’m so ready. You don’t even know. I’m so ready for this. The writing is good and the plot is so amazing. I just—I can’t. I’m so excited for this one!!! Props to the author!!!

And we’re done!! But of course, let me embrace my asshole ways and recommend Purple Constellations by moi and Just Boys by moi as well.


Top surgery. No. Yes. No. Yes. No.

Oh how conflicted I feel about this. Especially as I’m about to go on T (tomorrow I find out how soon it will be, but I think we’re looking at a couple weeks from now), I need to start thinking about some of the ways I will present myself in the long run. And probably, that’s going to involve top surgery.

I’ve always been so conflicted about my chest. When I was a kid (and I mean legit a kid, I got picked on for having boobs in first grade) I was deeply ashamed of my chest and wanted so badly never to grow boobs. I refused to wear a bra for several years until my family finally dragged me to Kmart and forced me to buy one, which was traumatic, and then for several years after that I wouldn’t wear anything but sports bras. So yeah, I was pretty miserable about growing a chest, although I didn’t really connect this to my gender. I assumed it was just because I got them so early and it was embarrassing. (Incidentally, the adults around me took note of how ashamed I was of my body, but they interpreted this as “modesty” and praised me for it.)

But then when I was a teenager I started to love my chest, because I was trying hard to be feminine and sexy and all the things I thought I needed to be for anyone to love me. And when 90% of my naked reflection stared back at me in a stubbornly unfeminine way, my chest was quite happy to be sexy and feminine. I was deeply ashamed of the rest of my body - my wide shoulders and narrow hips and pouchy stomach - so I wore clothes designed to get everyone to look at my chest. For years and years it was the only part of my body I associated with my own sexiness.

And, well, now that I’ve realized I’m trans, everything’s up in the air. I don’t associate my chest with sexiness anymore; my tits are just sort of these things that hang there and get in the way. I have a much more positive body image overall, and I associate my sexiness with all the parts I hated before: my legs, my stomach, my face, my shoulders, even my genitals (which I like better now that I don’t think of them as female). But because of what my chest represented for me for so many years, I still feel affection for it. I think breasts are beautiful, and I think my chest is beautiful. When I’m alone.

But as soon as I go out of the house I get deeply ashamed and I want the fucking things gone. I know when other people see them, they erase all my attempts to define my gender, they scream “WOMAN” so loud no one can hear anything else I say. This summer has been hell for me, because I can’t stand wearing my binder in the heat, and I won’t wear a bra, so I just go out with tits swinging everywhere under my t-shirts. And then I have to use the women’s restroom, which I hate doing, and I have to pee sitting down, and still I get women walking into the restroom, taking one look at me, and walking out. Mostly I just try not to leave the house too much these days.

Ah, but then when I go on T… what then? I can’t be walking around looking completely male but with these tits. I won’t feel safe. So I’ll have to bind every single day for the rest of my life, and I just can’t see doing that. Plus, I long desperately just to put on a T-shirt with nothing under it.

So it looks like top surgery is going to be a thing I am going to need. But I’ll be sad about it, because I’ll know that I’m altering a part of my body I would otherwise be fine with mostly because of social pressure to conform to a binary gender, and because of other people’s insistence that “breasts = woman”. And that sucks.