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thoughts on boys?

disgusting but irresistible

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Found out that Vincent has poor eyesight and owns glasses when his contacts are missing. Result:

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One might say this wasn’t the most appropriate setting to be discussing a late-night movie-watching session, but then another might just as rightly argue that catching Vincent anywhere else but his restaurant was almost as mythical of a prospect as a rat being a chef . . . which seemed to be some sort of theme here, based on the cover. So, truly, what choice did the girl have? Vincent was remarkably quiet while Itsuki stumbled over the name of a famous dish that had been made into the pun-riddled title, the scrutiny once directed at a customer’s meal—until her interruption—homing in on the blu-ray case.

In that same silence, unreadable as ever, he straightened up again, backed away from the window, and side-stepped to meet Itsuki through the kitchen door. It was only a few nervous glances from his chefs that alerted him to the need for his approval (or not) after inspection, and with little more than a stiff nod and wave of his hand, the dish was marked acceptable before carried away.

This was a first, admittedly. Not common for a child to invite his company, much less want to be near him in any capacity. Despite the time they’d already spent together, Vincent was still getting used to that.

“Why?” The question was vague—probably because he meant it in more than one way, anything from Why do you think I’ll like it? to Why me? “You know I have to stay later than the restaurant closes, right?” He hadn’t said no, yet, even then. . . . “Won’t that be past your bedtime?”

❄️ @sansgout Continued from Here ❄️

"Rat-ta-tat-t-two-WHEE... bro!"

She had tripped and tripped-- and tripped-- in the middle of all that, but eventually she would make it to the end! It was a hard word, and one had to give her credit for even managing all of that out, and twice (Even if the second attempt would sound so much more like her imitating a machine gun)!

Itsuki would continue to hold the BLUERAY CASE (How she got it is a completely different story, and once we shall tackle another time) as high as she could for him to see. While of course-- minding the fancy lookin' dish that he's been glaring at just before she had entered through those very doors.

Not affected by his little reprimanding earlier (It was just his usual way of greeting her, by this point), as she allowed him just a little bit longer to take in the cover itself, and to better understand just what laid in store for him. Not that this would ever be enough, when compared to fully and properly experiencing a FULL PIXAR STORY!

"Yup! With yooou~" She readily affirmed with a beam, his expression only tickling her-- as she tried not to giggle then. "You will like it, ah promiiiise~" Well, you had to admire her for having this much confidence.

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Hello Dead Plate fandom!

B&W (technically silver tone):

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this just in: he's not beating the allegations bc he is one

. . . in certain verses

i.e., finally added a vampire verse that i should've ages ago bc rix and rach more or less already figured it out for me so

if you thought he was bad before gUESS WHAT ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

vince isn't beating the vampire allegations this man sunburns so easily he's in direct sunlight for 5 minutes and turns red absolutely drains his energy to be under the sun

legitimately just give him a parasol if he needs to be outside fr

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HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO THIS AWESOME GAME!!!!

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My iPad is on its last legs, so I'm trying to save up for a new one (It's also my main working tool, that I use to draw my butt off for jobs and earn money to pay those bills and for food, etc.).

Besides my art commissions and graphic commissions being open as usual. Pay what you want sketches are available now through my Kofi, if you'd like to donate and support me through there instead!

I will be posting a bunch of sketch examples so you guys will know what you will be getting (They will be black and white, head to bust shots, and of varying complexity, depending on how much you donate)!

Just leave a comment too on what character you would like a sketch of!

Thank you so much! ❤️

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nothing will ever be funnier to me than vincent whipping out the Crazy EyesTM on Day One if you pester him too many times ｡:ﾟ(｡ﹷ ‸ ﹷ ✿)

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@earthssprout || cont.

It was strange, but he did notice these things with her.

How she somewhat tensed when he approached. How she tucked that sorry excuse of a sandwich closer to her chest—as if he’d snatch it from her at any moment, and as if “it” was the only shred of happiness she could cling to here and now. It was strange that he, in this case alone, found himself mildly bothered by it . . . whereas the meek behavior of his cooks was always the preferred. (They knew their place and they maintained it, shrunk under the slightest wrong look in their direction, and it was a good thing. But with her . . .Why?)

So, even stranger, Vincent felt his posture somewhat slackening in direct contrast, like it’d be the convincing factor for her to do the same. When nothing but the counter sat between them, he leaned part of his weight against it, appraised her silently while she fumbled over her words—most of which he ignored . . . until that earnest confession of her appreciation for his cooking. (Rather, if the construction of a sandwich could be considered as such.)

He shouldn’t have been surprised. Given his renown, how truly odd would it be that even some child could enjoy the food he made for her? But, then and there, a swap between the two of them, as Ari relaxed in his presence, the muscles in Vincent’s shoulders tensed as if struck. And he stared for a moment. Two. Even longer as the offensive “sandwich” was held out to him in submission.

A novel feeling—or was it simply a long-forgotten one?—stirred in his chest. But he stifled it with a hard swallow. “Don’t apologize.” Gently, Vincent shook his head before turning away from her. (He left that frozen food in her hand for the time being. Who was he to take away that happiness until he found her a substitute?) Once he’d crossed the kitchen, he pulled a loaf of fresh bread down from a shelf, along with a cutting board and knife. Vincent returned to the counter again, setting it all out so he could work and face her at the same time.

“What type of jelly do you want today?” He sliced into the bread, pushing the end pieces off to the side with a swift flick of his wrist. “Doubtful that I need to ask, but you want no crust . . . ?”

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How the FUCK do people draw this gay ass chef

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❝You're nothing but a gay bitch!❞ [ from March - imma let him loose lmao ]

@stardecrossed || takes one to know one c:

Maybe what's most offensive here—not the (true) accusation—is the volume in which March proclaims it: loud enough for Vincent to somewhat flinch, then raise a finger to his ear. Slowly, and woven into a grandiose sigh, he releases a plume of smoke, carelessly (purposefully so) tapping the ashes of his cigarette to the shop's floor.

“Yet I fail to see how any of that is relevant,” he calmly says, again deliberate in making his voice soft, placid, a total counter to the fiery man in front of him, “when I came here to suggest my order is late.” A sideways glance to that minuscule pile of ashes; then, while making direct eye contact, he crushes it under one shoe.

“Struggling to keep up, March? If I'd known a cast iron skillet would be so difficult for you, I'd have asked Balor to get one.”

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vince hasn't cried since he was a child legitimately . . . don't even think his body remembers how to

which is truly a bummer; might help a few things if he could

instead he just stares vacantly (which isn't that far from his usual anyway lbr)

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the temptation is there, murmuring against all odds. sitting straight, facing away from him, he catches a glance of bare neck —- it looks . . . ravenous.

the doctor will go from behind, gently placing wine in front of the other before gently bringing his nose up to neck : senses are heightened and it takes ALL not to press lips against the others’ lightly perfumed neck. hannibal takes a small breath, inhaling the others’ scent before smiling to himself—

“ hmm—- delightful. ”

/ ٩( 'ω' )و

@lorendiel || ٩( 'ω' )و aggressively back at you

It's become a game, this. One in which Vincent's willingly involved himself . . . and so he can't complain.

(Does he want to, truly? Should he? More so with Hannibal than ever, he finds himself in constant battle with those questions of want and need— Despicably horrifying.)

For here he sits again, astutely aware of the man's approaching footsteps, aware of the absurd effect his closeness brings, but despite all that . . . there's no effort to lean away. He feels that presence like an all-consuming shadow over his frame: alarming, but alluring. A comfort and a risk. A strike of panic and a strike of exhilaration. And even before that exhale brands heat all the way down to his shoulder blades, Vincent's holding his breath.

Again with him. Again with this man.

He minutely shivers, hand twitching closer to his wine glass, though not yet trusting himself to claim it steadily. A turn of his head, enough to catch the other out of the corner of his eye, and that same side of his mouth quirks as he breathes again. “You noticed . . . ? Yes, it's new.” Vincent speaks of the fragrance, of course. He ignores the ridiculous thrum in his chest, gathers the will to pick up his drink and oh-so-casually swirl the contents.

“Perceptive as always.” Only then, riding that burst of willpower, Vincent turns fully, practically shrugging the doctor away from him to meet his eye. “Had enough?”

But the dulcet layers of his tone suggest that might very well be more than just a challenge, and perhaps an invitation.

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transl. "i said i wanted chicken fingers, why'd you give the whole hand"

dumb doodles of these two the sequel electric boogaloo Fresh off the stove

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Un-sexily bleeds on his counter. Again. It's so shimmery, it looks nothing like blood. [ Star bc ofc lmao ]

@drolliic || "vincent, give a fuck about the VERY UNNATURAL blood this time" challenge

“Jesus, how did you—? What happened now?” Because, somehow, he's grown accustomed to that particular and peculiar color in their vicinity presumably being blood from their body, and as he sees the glittery substance making a mess, Vincent's already reaching for more towels. (That he'll be throwing away, mind you.)

When he speaks again, a near-growl blankets every word. “Stop bleeding in my kitchen! And while you're at it”—again, he throws the cloth at them—“go get that checked out, for fuck's sake.”

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Itsuki comes right into the restaurant that day, with a blueray in hand. It is one of her favorite Pixar movies, and it has a great lesson and inspiring message in there! “Hey bro~! After the restaurant closes later, can we watch Rat-TAT-duey ta-gethah~?”

@yukikorogashi || why is she so real for this gnhjaodnghjoa

Naturally, it would be with genuine surprise that the restaurant's patrons peer over at this seemingly random child marching in through the door—

Vincent, however, barely bats an eye from where he stands at the kitchen window, having been meticulously critiquing the presentation of one of the dishes set to be brought to a customer.

“Itsuki.” It's a greeting. And a partial reprimand, falling from his lips heavy and firm. “Rat— what?” Vincent leans over the counter to get a better look at what the hell she's talking about. Processing, he blinks slowly, then meets her eye with the slightest tilt of his head.

“You . . . want to watch a movie,” he carefully elaborates, like she herself doesn't even realize what she's suggesting, “with me—?”

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ratgrabs this man so hard and shakes him around i've never seen a Guy who exacerbates his own issues harder than this absolute train wreck is2g

wants to "cook with love" doesn't take any steps to actually do that (beyond the in-game events where he's peaked in insanity); perpetuates this cycle of emptiness and just cooks what the food critics want in a systematic, detached way

craves intimacy refuses to let anyone get close, legitimately behaves like some feral cat if someone tries to touch him without very clear permission (oh, but he will touch them and establish control in these situations as if that truly satisfies him nbd)

grew up a sickly child chooses to smoke, now ??? BOY what ARE you doing

finds the rich annoying and suffocating predominantly spends most of his time with this crowd of people, and not just through work but his sorry excuse of a social life, too

he's so stupid like wtaf sir