#i adore olive pizza

[artofalassa]

Nothing Beats Pizza On A Cliff

Right? And some things are said...

Part ONE | Part TWO | Part THREE | Part FOUR | Part FIVE | Part SIX | Part SEVEN | Part EIGHT | Part NINE | Part TEN

[pucksandpower]

Theories of Relativity

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you don’t need TikTok theories to prove that your relationship is a dream come to life, but it doesn’t hurt when your boyfriend passes all of them with flying colors

The Olive Theory

When you love someone, you have to be willing to make sacrifices and compromises for them (even if those sacrifices are something small like pretending to hate olives just so you can give them to your olive-loving partner instead)

You sit across from Charles at the long dinner table, smiling as he animatedly recounts the race from last weekend. His hands wave through the air, punctuating his story as he describes the final lap battle with Max down to the last corner. You’re only half listening though, too distracted by how handsome he looks in his dinner jacket, his tanned skin glowing in the low light of the restaurant.

As Charles pauses to take a sip of wine, you lean in and whisper, “I wasn’t really watching the race, I only had eyes for you.”

Charles chuckles, his nose crinkling adorably. “Oh really? So you missed all the action then?"

You shrug, trailing a finger down his arm. “What can I say, I find you far more interesting than the other cars going around in circles.”

Charles opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by a mechanic sitting a little way down from you. “Oi Charles, why do you keep picking all the olives out of your salad?"

You look down, noticing the small pile of olives Charles has stacked onto the edge of his plate.

Charles glances at you, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “Oh, um, I’m not a huge fan of olives.”

The mechanic frowns in confusion. “But I’ve seen you eat olives before. You always get them on your pizza.”

“I, uh ...” Charles stammers, clearly flustered.

Under the table, you squeeze his hand reassuringly. Charles looks at you and you give him a small nod.

“Well, the truth is,” Charles says, turning back to the mechanic. “I actually love olives. But Y/N loves them even more than I do. So I pick them out of my food to give to her.”

You smile softly at Charles, warmed by his thoughtfulness. The mechanic chuckles and shakes his head. “You two are so cute it’s almost gross.”

Charles just grins and pops an olive into your mouth. “Anything for mon amour.”

You crunch the olive happily, then lean in to give Charles a quick kiss on the lips. “People who say chivalry is dead have simply never met you.”

The conversation moves on, flowing from racing to travel and everything in between. Under the table, your fingers stay intertwined with Charles’ the whole time.

After dinner, you all head outside into the cool night air. Charles’ team members head off towards their own cars, calling out goodbyes.

You snuggle into Charles’ side as you walk towards where his Ferrari is parked. “Thank you for the olives,” you say. “But you really don’t have to deprive yourself on my account.”

Charles wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “I want to though. I like making you happy.”

You stop next to the car, turning to face him. Running a hand down his chest you say, “You know what would really make me happy right now?"

“Hmm?" Charles murmurs, his eyes drifting down to your lips.

You grin mischievously. “A stop for gelato on the way home.”

Charles laughs and opens the car door for you. “Anything for you, mon cœur.”

The Bird Test

If you say something that could be deemed insignificant and your partner responds with genuine curiosity, that’s a really good sign that your relationship will last a long time

The Brazilian sun beats down as you wander hand-in-hand with Charles along the edges of the Interlagos circuit. It’s the day before qualifying, and Charles brought you out to the track in São Paulo to share the grid walk with you.

You stroll slowly, enjoying a rare private moment together during the hectic race weekend. Charles points out details along the track — the tricky off-camber Turn 3, the sharp left-right complex at Turns 5 and 6, the long full throttle blast down the back straight.

You love seeing him so in his element here, his passion for racing evident in his voice and gestures.

As you round Turn 12, heading down the home straight, a flash of bright blue in the trees catches your eye. Gasping in excitement, you grab Charles’ arm and point.

“Look, a hyacinth macaw!”

Charles follows your gaze to the large, vividly colored parrot perched in the branches. “Wow, that’s amazing! I’ve never seen one outside of a zoo.”

You bounce on your toes, thrilled at the sighting. “Aren’t they gorgeous? That bright blue is unreal. Macaws are pretty rare around here, I can’t believe we spotted one!”

Charles smiles at your obvious delight, then turns back to observe the macaw with curiosity. “What do they eat?" He asks. “Fruit, like other parrots?"

“Yes exactly!” You reply eagerly. “Mostly palm nuts and acai berries. And they need a huge range of territory, something like 80 square kilometers.”

As you chat more facts about the brilliant bird, Charles listens attentively, asking more questions and commenting on its beauty. His genuine interest and engagement makes your heart flutter happily.

Eventually the macaw takes flight, its bright wings flashing blue against the trees as it disappears into the forest.

“Incredible,” Charles murmurs, watching it go. “What an amazing thing to see.”

He turns back to you, eyes shining. “Thank you for pointing it out, I never would have spotted it myself. I love seeing you so excited teaching me about something you’re passionate about.”

You step closer, looping your arms around his neck. “And I love that you always listen and want to know more, even if it’s not about racing.”

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, smiling tenderly. “Of course, your passions are my passions now too. I want to know everything that sparks that beautiful light in your eyes.”

The Orange Peel Theory

A partner’s willingness to perform small acts of service is indicative of a healthy relationship

Early morning sun filters into the kitchen as you sip your coffee, still wearing the oversized Ferrari shirt you slept in. Charles stands at the counter across from you, freshly showered and humming to himself as he browses his phone.

Setting your mug down, you grab an orange from the fruit bowl and start to peel it. Or at least you try. The tough rind puts up a stubborn fight, your nails scraping uselessly against it.

“Ugh, I hate peeling oranges,” you grumble after a minute. “Whose idea was it to make the peel so impossible?"

Charles glances up with a sympathetic smile. “Here, let me.”

He takes the orange from your hands and deftly digs his thumb into the top, effortlessly tearing the peel away in one long curl.

You watch in admiration as he strips the rest of the orange until it’s completely naked and ready to eat.

“Voila,” Charles presents it with a flourish. “One perfectly peeled orange for mon ange.”

“My hero,” you grin. You go to take it from him but Charles playfully keeps it out of reach.

“Ah ah, allow me,” he says. Holding your gaze, he gently pulls apart one glistening segment and brings it to your lips.

Happiness bubbles up in you at this sweet, unexpected gesture. You let Charles pop the orange slice into your mouth, savoring the bright citrus burst.

“Delicious,” you murmur. Charles smiles and leans in to kiss you softly, his thumb brushing a drop of juice from your lower lip.

One by one he continues to peel the segments and feed them to you, interspersing each with tender kisses that taste of orange and love.

You close your eyes blissfully, letting the sensual ritual relax you. Charles takes his time, not rushing. He knows this is your favorite part of the morning, stealing these private moments together before the busy day sweeps you both up.

When the last segment is gone, Charles kisses you again, deeper this time. You loop your arms around his neck, melting against him.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” you whisper when you finally separate.

Charles nuzzles your nose with his. “You may have said it once or twice. But I never get tired of hearing it.”

You lean into him contentedly. As always, his thoughtfulness and care warms you from the inside out.

Peeling an orange is such a small act but the meaning behind it speaks volumes. Charles knows your quirks and preferences, and cherishes these little opportunities to make your day brighter.

The little things that mean everything.

You’re still musing dreamily about this when Charles tips your chin up. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks with a curious smile.

You shake your head, focusing back on him. “Just thinking about us. And how perfectly you peel my oranges.”

Charles laughs. “Well I’m glad to be of service. I know how you hate getting orange string stuck under your nails.”

He kisses your fingertips one by one. “Can’t have anything marring these beautiful hands.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “Oh yes, I need to keep my hands soft and dainty in case a prince comes along to propose.”

Charles squawks in protest and tackles you against the counter, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you mercilessly. You dissolve into helpless giggles, swatting him away.

“No no, stop! I take it back!” You gasp.

Charles relents, holding you close and nuzzling into your hair. “Too late, you’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs, kissing your temple.

You snuggle into him contentedly. No fantasy prince could ever compete with the reality of Charles.

The Invisible String Theory

An invisible string connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance (the string may stretch or tangle but it will never break)

The living room is filled with laughter and happy chatter as you and Charles sit surrounded by both your families. Your wedding is only two days away, and his mother suggested gathering everyone together one night for reminiscing and quality time.

Looking through old photo albums is proving to be hilarious and heartwarming. Baby pictures, school plays, family vacations — memories preserved to embroider the story of your lives before fate brought you together.

Charles smiles wistfully as Lorenzo shows an album from their childhood. “I wish my godfather and father could have met you,” he says softly. “They would have loved you so much.”

You take his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder. His lost loved ones are always close to his heart.

Your mother passes an album to you with a smile. “Oh this one is from our trip to France when you were five! So many cute little Y/N photos.”

You roll your eyes but obligingly open the album, Charles peering over your shoulder. You flip through pictures of your younger self building sandcastles on the beach, wearing a hilariously large sun hat, beaming gappily with missing front teeth.

Charles grins down at you. “Adorable. I can’t wait for our kids to-”

He stops abruptly, staring down at the page. You follow his gaze to a photo of your family in Nice, taken in front of the Le Negresco hotel. And there in the background, almost out of frame — four familiar figures walking down the promenade.

A young Charles holds the hand of a teenage boy you immediately recognize as Jules. On Charles’ other side, his father Hervé carries a toddler Arthur.

Your breath catches sharply. The families fall silent around you. Charles’ fingers tremble slightly as they trace over the image.

“Of course we went to Nice often,” he whispers. “I had no idea ...” His voice trails off, thick with emotion.

Arthur cranes his head to see. “Is that us? With Papa and Jules?" He looks between you and Charles with wide eyes.

“Almost twenty years ago,” Lorenzo marvels. “And your paths were already crossing.”

Pascale wipes at her eyes, grasping Charles’ other hand tightly. “It was meant to be. Some invisible string tying you together even then.”

Charles’ fingers tremble as they trace over the image. For one brief, impossible moment, it feels like you’re all together — you, Charles, Jules, Hervé. Preserved in time, intersecting at the crossroads of past and future.

Though you never met in life, somehow you were all bound in that instant, tied by invisible strings of destiny. Strings that would one day guide you and Charles to each other.

It’s only a photo, yet looking at it you feel Jules and Hervé’s presence like a bittersweet embrace. As if across the years, they’re saying we know you. We love you. We’re so happy for you both.

You stare down at it, this captured moment of impossible synchronicity. A glimpse of the thread that wove itself silently through your lives until the day it finally drew you together.

Charles meets your eyes, his own shimmering with tears. Without words, you know he feels it too. The impossible link stretching back through time. Proof you were always meant to find each other.

He pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. “I believe that with all my heart, we’ve always been connected somehow.”

“Soulmates,” you whisper.

You cling to him, overwhelmed with certainty. Through accidents of time and geography, missteps and milestones, your story was always guiding you here.

Meant for each other. Destined, even then.

[untoldstar]

yandere! pervert neighbor x fem reader

TW: yandere themes, nsfw themes, stalking, obsessive behavior.

hey everyone! kinda an intro to a new oc that I’m not completely sure I’ll write about, even though I’m writing about him I still feel repulsed by the concept but if I do write about him again his name is oliver! which is a name that popped up into my head while writing this and I was like “yep that works!” which summarizes my process of choosing oc names.

He had heard that there was new neighbor moving in soon but he didn’t care much for it, nor did he want that to happen, to him neighbors can be a nuisance sometimes but he mostly prefers to keep to himself, he was walking past his living room window and that’s when he caught a glimpse of you carrying boxes inside the house, he hasn’t even realized his movements stopping and him standing at the window watching you for several minutes.

He didn’t know why but he found himself opening his door and walking towards your house which was right in front of his, convenient, he offered you help with carrying all the boxes but he really just wanted to get closer, he didn’t know why he just wanted to be near you, you were beautiful and so pretty, nice too! unlike all the crappy neighbors that moved in before.

He was so engaged in every word you said, he didn’t want it to end, he offered his help with unpacking but you declined saying his help with carrying the boxes was more than enough, you really were an angel~ He insisted but in the end, the rational part of his brain dragged him back to his house.

His day carried on as usual but with him glancing at your window every few seconds and brainstorming excuses to see you, was there anything he had to warn you about the neighborhood? maybe the house structure? should he go traditional and bring you a pie or something? he wanted to see you again so bad.

The sky had darkened and he made his way to your door knocking, he ordered pizza that turned out to be too much for him silly him! he invited you over to hang out feeling giddy when you agree which he would never admit to out loud.

The atmosphere light and comfortable, you both spent the night talking and now you were in the middle of telling a story without noticing he had already zoned out completely, as much as he adores your voice and every single thing you say but with you both sitting so close on the couch and you looking so beautiful he can’t help but have his mind wander to him trailing his hand up your thighs, leaning close and capturing your lips between his, pulling you even closer, kisses becoming more heated and before you know it he’s above you with his tongue swirling with yours, groaning as he grinds his cock against you, his hand slowly trailing down into your pants to feel just how wet you are for him-

He blinks and breathes in a sharp inhale when he hears you curse out, jesus he had to calm down, it was getting late and you had to go home, as much as he loves spending time with you he desperately had to make you leave before you notice his cock getting hard.

Once you leave he cleans up and heads upstairs, when he’s done with his night routine and gets under the bed covers, a light switching on from your bedroom catches his attention, sitting up he realizes he almost has a perfect view of your bedroom window from here! he smiles softly when you come in to his view, no longer pushing away the feeling rising up in his chest. His eyes widen when you your hands grab the hem of your shirt and lift it over your head, you only had a lamp on so you weren’t exposed to the entire street but he definitely could see you with how close your houses were. You moved down to take off your pants and underwear then bent down to pick up the shirt you left in the ground, fuck, were you doing this on purpose? you must be, you must know that he can see you right now, that he’s watching your every move his eyes not letting a single inch of your body escape his gaze, you must know that he won’t be able to sleep a wink tonight from the image you’ve engraved into his mind, he could see himself being in your room right now sitting in the bed with you on top of him, bouncing on his cock as he groped every inch of you-

This was so wrong, he knew that he knew how wrong it was for him to sit there and watch you in your most vulnerable state but he can’t take his eyes off of you no matter what your doing, he feels hypnotized. He sat and watched you until your lights finally went out, he’s your neighbor after all and neighbors look after eachother right?

part 2

[satrs]

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘩é! // PART 1 Part 2

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚑é 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎m!

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; 𝙸𝚝𝚘𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝚁𝚒𝚗. 𝙾𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙰𝚒𝚔𝚞. 𝚁𝚎𝚘 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝙸𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚒 𝚈𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚒.

Tags; !NSFW CONTENT MDNI! cringey porn tropes. Dirty talk. STEPCEST. Blowjob. Fingering. unprotected sex. porn without plot. age gap(Isagi). Outdoor sex. Slut calling (like once)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 1.1k

 ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ!

ITOSHI RIN + HELP, I’M STUCK!

“Rinnie!”, your cry for help didn’t get unnoticed by the young man, running to where he seemed to have located your voice, ready to help you in need.

When he heard you call him, he thought that you maybe slipped and fell or couldn’t reach for something in the top shelve — but not this.

He was confronted with your head in the washing machine, ass up in the air, wiggling from side to side in an attempt to free yourself out of this situation.

The tight hot pants you wore, rising up with every wiggle of your hips, revealing more of your flesh with every second passing.

„Rinnieeee! Please do something! I can’t get out!“ , your whine sounded straight up pornographic, causing your step-brother to take in a deep breath.

„Stop whining. I’ll think of something alright?“, he calmed you, wiggling coming to an end, helping the young man calm his already throbbing dick.

But when he stepped towards you, he noticed that you didn’t have any panties on. Fuck.

Cursing under his breath, he began to free himself from his pants, causing you to shift at the sound of clothes falling.

“What are you doing, step bro?”, you questioned, excitement rushing through every cell of your being.

„This is all your fault. Walking around with those slutty pants.“ Rin’s hand came in contact with your ass, causing you to yelp at the impact of his palm. „And not even panties on? Tch. What a slut“

He pulled down your flimsy pants in one swift motion, fingers sliding through your wet folds and into your hole, earning an eager moan from you.

Positioning his throbbing cock at your aching hole, he let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him whole.

„You’re so dirty, step sis. Soaking wet, and I didn’t even do anything yet. If you wanted me to fuck you, you could’ve just asked nicely.“

OLIVER AIKU + DID SOMEONE ORDER PIZZA?

You rushed to the door at the sound of the bell ringing, peeping through the door to see who it might be.

As you saw an all too familiar logo, you happily opened your door, revealing a tall and handsome man in working uniform, holding your delivery in both of his hands.

“Here is your pizza, madam.” The man looked awfully handsome, almost causing you to drool on the spot.

Stopping yourself, you went on to quickly grab your purse and pay for your delivery.

As you were about to hand the man money, you realized.

„Shit! I don’t get enough to pay for it!“, you were feeling embarrassed as the man flashed you a nervous smile.

Then, an idea came to your head. “Uhmm… how about you come in, and I pay you differently?”, she offered, biting her lip in a seducing manner.

“I wouldn’t mind, madam.” the man stated, stepping into your home.

“Shittt“, the man groans, head falling onto the headrest of your couch.

You smiled to yourself at his groans of pleasure, moving your wet muscle from his base all the way up to the tip, swirling your tongue around it, smirk adoring your face.

He sensually bit his lip, placing his hand on top of your head, urging you to take him deeper, letting out a shaky breath as he felt his tip hitting the back of your throat.

„This delivery will be on the house.“

REO MIKAGE + CAN YOU HELP ME, DOC’?

“Doc’, it hurts”, you whined, causing the young doctor to hurry over to you in worry.

„Where does it hurt, miss?“, he questioned, trying to help you and remove the pain your suffering from.

He really wants his sweet patient to feel alright, afterall.

„H-here…“, you softly implied, hand traveling down your stomach, your legs spread on the examination table, fingers stopping right over your closed heat, innocently looking up to him through your lashes.

Reo realised your intentions, smirk playing on his face as he replaced your hand with his, hand slowly creeping it's way into your pants, shoving your panties to the side.

„Right here?“ His voice was laced in lust as he earned a soft sigh and nod from you at the action, deciding to take it up a notch and play with your aching clit.

„Does it feel better?“ he questioned, face closely to yours, eyes hanging low in pleasure.

„N-no, inside…“, you answered, hand flying down to his as he entered your wet pussy with two of his fingers.

You moaned out loudly, thighs clenching around his hand because of the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you with only his fingers.

„Better?“, questioned, speed of his fingers increasing, curling them so he can hit that one spot that made you unravel underneath him repeatedly.

Your nod didn’t satisfy him, causing him too crinkle his eyes in disbelief.

„I don’t think so. How about we try it with something longer, hmm?“

ISAGI YOICHI + OH, POOLBOY!

„Yoichiii! Yo-ho!“, the young Male turned around from trying to clean the pool, getting meet with you, beeming a big smile into his directon, waving at him.

His eyes couldn’t help but wander down to your tits, bikini almost a bit to revealing, the fat of your tits spilling out on the side, almost flashing him.

„Come over and give a lonely woman some company, would you, honey?“, you called out to him, smirk creeping it’s way onto your face as you noticed him walking up to you.

It was an extremely hot day, leaving everyone in the area sweating and huffing, Isagi was no exception. His white shirt clinging tightly onto him, his firm abs being visible through it. He took the end of his shirt, whipping off the sweat on his face with it.

You almost drooled at the action, your shameless gawking at his exposed V-line not going unnoticed by him.

„My husband isn’t home, you know“, you mentioned while taking a sip of your lemonade, sensually sucking on the straw attached to it.

This is what caused you to be in this condition, legs folded in half while Isagi drilled into you, hips smacking against your ass with every roll of his hips.

„Bet your husband can’t fuck you as good as I do“, he grunted, pace of his hips never stopping.

He was right. You've never experienced such overwhelming pleasure. His cock hit every spot inside of your hot heat.

„Isn’t that right, madam?“, Isagi snapped you out of your thoughts by taking your chin into his hand, holding it close to his face, hot breath tickling your nose.

„Y-yes Yoichi! So good!“

ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎

[garbinge]

You, Me, and Italy

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader From these August Prompts:  Italy Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: All my fics are 18+, angsty, mentions of suicide, death, grief, loss, broken heart, drug use, addiction, being high, someone close to ODing, uncomfortable, sad, mentions of sexual situations, it's based on canon mentions of suicide and death and grieving, but a little more in depth. So just be weary of any triggers one might have in reference to these things.

A/N: This is not apart of my Richie Jerimovich multichap. This is heavy. I try and steer clear of fics like this because of my own triggers and trauma around drug abuse and addiction but this just was an idea sitting in my head probably because of all that trauma. The Bear Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @quixscentsposts @dadbodfanatic-x @adorable-punk-superheroes @lodeddiperrodrick @isalver @captainweasleybarnes @musicwithteeth @fancyvoidtragedy @shinebright2000 @knight4xmas

The kitchen was always your favorite place to be when you couldn’t sleep. Something about the ability to hear every single noise in a space where usually you’d be lucky to hear the person next to you speak at a normal tone. 

You had come in through the back, placed your stuff down in the locker that had your name written on a green piece of tape, your insanely patterned bandana was snug around your head just above your forehead, something you always wore when cooking. Now, the sounds of the water running as you washed her hands filled your ears and was followed by the clunks of pulling the knives out, the blade tinging as you set it free from its case. Now slicing, the quick quippy sounds of the thin slices of all the items you needed to prep. Basil, onions, garlic, fig, and parmesan cheese. All the ingredients you picked up from the grocery story that was still open this late. The chopping and the sizzling filled your ears in a similar way that music would fill someone else’s. It kept you grounded, kept you calm, kept you in the moment. 

“Late night snack?” A voice interrupted that tranquility but surprisingly, there was no reaction from your side. You kept steady as your hand tossed the garlic and basil in the olive oil, other hand equipped with a spoon ready to add in the parmesan ricotta mixture. 

“You’re lucky I don’t scare easily.” Your voice was steady as you focused on the pan in front of you. 

Mikey looked down and laughed before he made his way from the office over to his best chef and best friend. He leaned against the prep area, hands crossed as you had your back to him. 

“You should toast the breadcrumbs.” Mikey said as he took in what you were doing. 

Immediately, your head turned to look over your shoulder and shot the man a look. “I’m a one-woman show here, Mikey. I’m getting to it.” 

“You know, I can help you out.” He had crossed his leg over the other now as he waited for a response. “Only if you want to.” His arms were now uncrossed as he raised them in a surrender.

Your head tilted, the only invitation he needed to start helping out. 

“I’m making arancini, fig and garlic arancini.” You specified. 

“Rice balls. You’re making rice balls.” Mikey teased. “What inspired the fig?” He asked as he toasted the bread crumbs at the stove next to you. 

“Remember when we went to that bar the other night?” You looked up at him, despite being a few feet down from you, he still towered over you in height. “While you and Richie were off doing God knows what, I ordered shit from the bar. They had this fig, arugula, and goat cheese pizza.”

“Jesus Christ, what fuckin’ bar were we at?” Mikey laughed at the fanciness of how it all sounded. 

“That place, Porta. I’d say it was more hipster than fancy.” 

“God, I don’t even remember.” Mikey laughed before placing his attention back on you and continuing the conversation. “So the pizza was good?” 

“It was, and I just kept thinking what would go well with fig and landed at a rice ball.” 

“Arancini.” Mikey corrected you with the biggest grin growing on his face. 

A laugh left your mouth as you took the sauce off the heat, wanting it to cool down slightly before pouring it into the egg mixture that was already placed in the fridge. 

The silence fell over the both of you and you both continued to move around the kitchen. Mikey stood with the bowl of rice in his hands, resting it on the prep counter as you stood over and poured in the egg mixture. Mikey was whisking it around rapidly, that way the eggs didn’t scramble. The smell coming from the bowl was filled with savory scents of garlic and sweet touches of fig reduction. 

“You good, buddy?” Mikey was looking at you as he stirred everything around. It wasn’t so much in reference to your current state, which was focused as you concentrated on pouring the egg mixture in, but more in reference to why you were here late. 

Buddy. Such a Mikey term. The two of you knew each other for years, meeting when you were smoking in the back of the restaurant you used to work out. To put it in simple terms, he poached you. He had just grabbed a bite at said restaurant, with his brother Carmy, a detail you found out later since Mikey came alone to the alley in the back where you had been taking a break. He asked if you had made the slow braised beef and proceeded to tell you about his restaurant. You never walked back into that restaurant again and started at The Beef the next day. 

As time passed, things got close with Mikey. The two of you just fed off each other, you vibed effortlessly and one day that led to more. You spent a majority of the night locked in the office making a bed out of the table, the floor, the bookshelf, anything that had an inch of a flat surface, Mikey took you. That however, never amounted to more. It was always just sex. There was no label on what the two of you had, no real dates, no holding hands, just stolen moments around the restaurant, late nights in the kitchen, nights out at bars, and overnights spent at each others places. But that never made anything awkward because despite their being no label, everyone knew there was something between you two. It was impossible to miss. The way you two got along, the way you spent every waking moment together, whether you were at the restaurant or not. But what the real dead giveaway was, you two moved in the kitchen like you had perfected a choreographed dance, every, single, time. There was never any missteps, any arguing, no bumping into each other, you just glided by each other, calling out kitchen terms and directions. It was a sight to be seen, everyone thought so. Including the family. Sugar and Carmy were impressed when you came by for the first time maybe a month into starting at The Beef. Richie had already seen how the two of you worked together but both Berzatto siblings were shocked by it. 

“Hey, you good?” Mikey repeated himself and bent down a little to look into your eyes. 

“Yea, sorry.” You shook your head from your thoughts. 

“I don’t buy it.” Mikey pressed you again for more information. “What’s with late night rice balls?” 

“You ever feel stuck?” There was no point in trying to hide what you were feeling from Mikey. 

“Uh, just every day of my life.” You let out a breath through your nose in a sort of chuckle. “I just, wish I could get out of here.” The frustration was littered in your voice. 

“Where would you go?” He set the bowl down now that everything was stirred, and he turned to face you. 

“Anywhere.” You turned too so you were facing him. 

“So let’s go.” His voice raised, like what he said and meant didn’t need planning, didn’t need money, he spoke it outloud like it was the easiest thing to achieve. 

“Yea, where?” You were about to start naming off places around here in Chicago as a joke but he was quick to answer you. 

“Italy.” 

You frowned but a smile was growing on your face. “Italy?” You questioned. 

“Yea, let’s go to Italy, we’ll eat all the rice balls in the fuckin’ country, we’ll learn how to make ‘em like a true Italian. We’ll eat our way around Rome, Sicily, Naples, it’ll be great, just me and you and Italy.” He was so energetic in how he spoke, his hands were in the air, his voice was echoing off the kitchen walls. 

“You, me, and Italy?” You questioned him as your head nodded in agreement. 

“You, me, and Italy.” Mikey nodded with the biggest smile on his face. 

____

Time might’ve passed and a lot of things might’ve changed, but sometimes stayed exactly the same. You were pushing through the back door of The Beef, bag and kitchen tools in hand as the clock ticked past 1AM. 

“Mikey?” You called out, expecting to see him appear in the kitchen. You called out again and heard nothing. It was odd, but also maybe not. He had been distant lately, you picked up on that when most nights he didn’t come back to your place. You knew things had been tough for him, he was having money issues and as a result moved back in with his mother, he was stressed. Every time you did get the chance to see him, he wasn’t fully there, sometimes you’d taste alcohol on his breath, others you could tell his mind was caught in a thought or 20. 

Moving to the lockers, you saw the door open just slightly and the lamp on illuminating a ton of paperwork. You saw his hand resting on the table and slowly peaked in. 

Now, you had your suspicions, they were probably more than suspicions, you knew. You knew Mikey was hooked on something. But you didn’t want to accept it. But there it was, slapping you right in the face. It had been functional, he had been functional, which is what made it easy for you to question, for you to say nothing. After tonight, you’d regret it, you’d regret staying silent, not giving in to your suspicions, voicing them out loud. 

You took in the sight of him, he was so out of it, you could see his glazed over eyes even from the distance you were at. The giveaway as if everything else wasn’t so obvious was the pills scattered all over the paperwork in front of him. 

“Mikey.” The urgency hit you just as much as the the scene of him. You were next to him in seconds, shaking him awake. 

The smile that filled his face as he stared at you, the smile that warmed your heart, the smile that melted you, the smile of your best fucking friend was breaking you. 

“What–what’re you doin’ here?” 

“How much did you take, Mikey?” You moved forward to the table to search for a bottle, a pill count, see how many were on the table, but Mikey’s hands began to grab your arms. 

“No, no, no, no, no. Stop, you’re ruining the fun.” Mikey complained, his voice was slurred. 

You pulled back immediately, uncomfortable and unsure what to do. Your heart was beating fast and before your tears could even start falling, Mikey started yelling. “You’re ruining the fun!!” It was a repetition of what he had said before and all it did was secure your feet frozen to the ground. “That’s all anyone ever does anymore. Ruin the fucking fun.” He spun in the swivel chair like a child and when it stopped spinning he looked at the bookshelf and began speaking again, but this time more at a whisper. 

“Even my own fuckin girl. I can’t have anything.”  

You snuck out the door, searching for your phone in your pocket. The irony that in your hastiness, you spent more time looking for it than if you searched for it with purpose and patience. 

As you picked your phone up to your ear, your hand was shaking. “C’mon, pick up, pick up.” You mumbled, taking your other hand to pick at your lip. 

“It’s 1 in the fuckin’ morning, I’m neck deep in shit diapers, if this is you and Mikey asking me to go out, I’m blocking your number for eternity.” Richie seemed stressed in a completely different way. 

“Richie, it’s Mikey, he uh, I don’t know, there’s pills, he’s awake–sort of?, he’s angry, I don’t know how much he took but he, he uh, I just need help, I need you down here, can you get down here, please?” The shakiness in your voice was the dam holding back your tears. 

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Keep him up.” 

With that Richie hung up and you were moving back into the office, you squatted down and turned the chair so he was facing you. “Mikey, babe?” You tried to keep your voice soft. His red, glossy eyes met yours as he plopped his head down to look at you. 

“My girl.” A little bit of hope filled his face, he reached his hand up to cup your face. The impulse to pull away was strong but you stayed there, you stayed there with him and let him speak to you. 

“You’re so pretty, you know that? So pretty. And you’re so talented, you can throw down, you know that? Best fuckin slow braised beef I’ve ever fuckin’ had.” 

The amount of compliments he was giving you, it should’ve had you elated, floating, with butterflies but instead it was making you sick–uneasy. And you just had to sit there and let him say it, over and over again. You were counting in your head, hoping that once you got to the 10th 60th second count, that Richie would be here. 

“Hey hey hey, you listening to me?” Mikey moved slightly to look at you, even in his fogged state he could tell your mind was elsewhere. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared into his eyes. 

“You, me, and Italy, baby. You, me, and Italy.” The second time he said it, it was in a whisper like he was desperate for it to be true. Like if he said it low enough the world would grant him the wish. That’s when you really saw him, saw what was happening in his brain. Alongside that hopeful look was one of peace and happiness. The absolute gut wrenching emotion you felt in your heart when you realized it. How being high set Mikey free, set him free from his demons, in some weird twisted way this was the closest you’ve seen Mikey to his usual self. 

Before your heart could break anymore, you heard Richie’s voice behind you and he was slipping into your spot and picking Mikey up.

______

“You know I remember this one time, we went over to Mikey’s place, the one on Courtyard, me, Carm, and Richie, and it was Sunday, Braciole night. We walk in, Mikey’s got the game playing so loud in the background, we start prepping, cooking. I remember he told me not to put raisins in the braciole even though that’s how mom did it. And he just, he had this smile on for those first 30 minutes, like he had something planned, like he was in on the joke. But the thing is none of us knew what the joke was. And then, the door opened, we were all confused at who it was and then, this woman appeared. Mikey introduced her to us, he was so happy, and we were like shocked, cause Mikey, our big brother, the player, brought this girl over to our fucked up family Sunday night dinner. She didn’t care that the TV was loud, that we were even louder, that Mikey and Richie would tell the most insane stories, over and over again, and in fact, she moved around the kitchen like, well, like she’d known us all our whole lives. I don’t know if I ever saw Mikey so happy.” Sugar was sitting in bed, her phone on speaker while you sat silent on the other line. 

“You at the restaurant?” Sugar cleared her throat. 

“Standing right outside it.” You spoke up, trying to hide your tears from the story Sugar just told. 

“I’ll be there soon.” There was rustling on the other side of the phone, like she had started to get up and get ready. 

“Sugar?” You questioned, worried she was about to hang up. 

“Hm?” She hummed. 

“Thank you.” It was two words but sometimes you needed to hear it. How much Mikey loved you, he didn’t tell you often, but you felt it, you saw it. But now, that he was gone, that all that was left of Mikey for you was the things he left at your place, the memories you shared, you took the antidotes Sugar occasionally told you and kept them someplace special. 

“I’ll see you in the chaos.” Sugar replied back to you in which you did the same. 

For a few seconds after the phone call, you stood there, staring at the gutted restaurant, staring at the mayhem happening behind the glass, which was normal for the restaurant, whether it was in business or not. But right now, standing outside, in the peace of the quiet reminded you of those late nights in the kitchen, and you were destined to hold onto that peace for just a few more minutes. 

Eventually, you joined the chaos. Greeting everyone as you made your way through the renovation. Finding yourself getting swept up into something in the immediate first seconds you entered the front door. After an hour or so, when you wrapped up your job in the front, you made your way to the kitchen.  

“What’re you doing?” You placed your stuff down in the office as you walked past Richie, Fak, and Marcus who were gathered around someone’s phone watching a video, arguing back and forth. Natalie stood up from the chair in the office and placed a hand on your shoulder in a half greeting and walked over to the arguing men. Your eyes lingered on the office table and chair a little longer than normal, letting the memories flood into your brain for a short few seconds before you turned to put your attention back on everyone. 

“Scraping and painting and fighting over moving the lockers.” Marcus spoke up. 

You turned around and stepped out of the office, staring at them trying to attempt to move the lockers. Carmy had appeared now, yelling at them to keep it down and when the mention of Mikey’s locker still being locked was announced, that’s when everyone silences. 

“Just fuckin’ open it.” Carmy spoke up. 

A hat. June 5th, 2010. Taste of Chicago. The booth. 

You smiled at that. You weren’t there for the booth, but you heard all about it. From the family, but from Mikey, it was one of the many stories he’d tell you over and over and honestly, you’d do anything to hear him tell it 200 more times. 

Carmy handed the hat to Richie, and as he turned around his eyes fell on your. 

“Yo, uh, I got something for you.” He said and walked right past you into the office, searching for something. As everyone went back to working, you turned and took a few steps towards Carmy as he moved the papers around looking for something. 

“So, uh, we’re sending Ebra and Tina to culinary school, for them to stay sharp, learn some new shit, and uh, I–we, Syd and I figured you didn’t want or honestly really need that, so uh–here!” He proclaimed the last word louder than the rest as he found the envelope with your name written on it and handed it to you. 

You looked down at it for a second and then back at Carmy, you two didn’t talk much in general, but you definitely didn’t talk much about him. 

“You and Syd…” You started to say as you mindlessly tapped the envelope against your skin. “You uh,” You wanted to say that the two of them reminded you a lot of you and Mikey, the effortlessness in the kitchen, the way their ideas just bounced off each others and how they brought this new sense of life to each other. But it was that last thought that weighed heavy on you. There was a point that Mikey brought a new sense of life to you and you did the same to him but unfortunately that emotion, that feeling, had changed at some point, at no ones fault but it didn’t stop you from not cherishing it more. “Just, don’t take it for granted.” 

“Yea, yea.” Carmy nodded, getting where you were coming from but also not really wanting to get into it and you were okay with that because you didn’t want to get into it either. 

Carmy’s eyes moved down to the envelope and back to you. Taking the hint you nodded. “Right.” You said quickly and began to rip the envelope open. As your hand reached in and pulled out the papers in the envelope, you saw the word United and then followed by a seat and time and that’s when you saw the airports. 

ORD – NAP

Naples International Airport. 

“Carmy.” You looked up, eyes shocked. 

“It’s what Mikey would’ve wanted.” Carmy nodded and walked by you, taking his hand to rest on your shoulder and then tap it as he exited the office. 

You stared down at the tickets, trying to take in everything. 

“You, me, and Italy, Mikey.”  

[kryptonitejelly]

HONEYMOON FLY!BOY JAKE!!!!

it is honeymoon flyboy!jake

ugh to be walking around the streets of Italy with him 😭 in summer. it’ll be so warm that all you living in are thin sundresses, that have jake constantly touching some part of you - because you look equal parts sinful and equal parts like an absolute dream. he’ll have his arm wrapped around yours constantly, or around you, or shamelessly throwing a squeeze to your ass - because Italian man be damned, Jake was happy for them to look, but touching or approaching absolutely off limits.

you wanting all the gelato in the world, but deciding half a cup in that it’s too cold for your teeth and palming the cup off to your husband who chuckles because he knows this is going to happen and just accepts it.

nights with jake sitting on some sort of terrace or on a cosy restaurant at the edge of cobblestoned streets, sipping on ice cold prosecco and splitting the most satisfying plate of pasta, or a pizza between you both. topped off with an assortment of antipasti, cold cuts, sun dried tomatos, olives.

jake will be in a tshirt, shorts and sneakers in the day - always with the shades and cap, and you absolutely find yourself adoring it because he looks good in his flight suit and uniform (basically everything or nothing) but something about him so dressed down makes you 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 because this is jake, just your jake - at easy, himself, and those tight tshirts well, you aren’t complaining.

or evenings when he is in a linen shirt of sorts, one too many buttons open - not something you can hate either.

or, or, days at the beach where your husband’s body is just on bull display, abs rippling in the sun. you see all the italian ladies looking on, and so does jake - but all that makes him do is pull you from your beach chair and onto hips lap; leans up to kiss you, as his fingers duck beneath the strings holding your bikini bottoms together at the sides - he mouths at your neck, gaze falling on the people darting glances towards both of you. his way of telling the world that you are his and he, is yours.

and of course, the honeymoon sex - sex with jake is always mindblowing, but the honeymoon sex, boy does he take his time to savour you. slow, languid thrusts, letting you take your time to ride him at your own pace the sheets pooled around your waist, eating you out and make sure you cum at least twice on his mouth before he even enters you. there would for sure be days when most of your day is spent the both of you just naked and in bed, you thoroughly fucked out but your body always ready for more of jake.

i can see jake throwing toys into the mix because the man isn’t insecure in the slightest and honestly just wants you to experience maximum amounts of pleasure.

touches in the restaurant or bar, his hand sneaking up your dress, fingers skimming over your underwear, thumb brushing against your breasts from over your thin sundresses. your hand palming his bulge through his shorts.

and of course there is the fucking you over the balcony of your hotel, dress up and bunched around your hips, underwear pushed to a side, breasts almost spilling out of your dress.

ugh, to be on honeymoon with flyboy!jake 😮‍💨

[copperbadge]

I know you make your own pizza mostly, but I don't suppose you (or your readers?) would know of a nationwide pizza chain* or frozen brand that has pesto as a topping option? I adore pesto and would love to try it.

*doesn't have to be one that delivers, could be a sit down restaurant, as long as I can find it in regions outside the midwest

Well, I'm picky about my pesto -- I don't like pine nuts, so I make my own with cashews instead. That said, the only chain I know of that offers pesto on pizza is Blaze, which is a low end counter-service pizza chain whose entire marketing strategy is to situate itself near college campuses and offer super-fast pizza (it's basically 10 minutes from "what toppings" to "here's your pizza").

I really like Blaze, but I'm not gonna claim it's great pizza. They offer a pesto drizzle as a finish, but I've had it and wasn't impressed; on the other hand, supertaster, so I wasn't impressed because I could taste the relatively cheap olive oil they're using. You may enjoy it!

I will say that if you have a preferred pesto, or like to make it yourself, you can pretty much dress any frozen pizza with it -- just before you pop the frozen pizza in the oven, drop some spoonfuls of pesto right down onto it. The pesto darkens a bit as it bakes but should be fine, it's generally too wet to burn before the pizza's done cooking. (When I buy frozen pizza I often buy plain or "four cheese" pizza and dress it with my own toppings.)

Readership, if you know of a good source, sing out; remember to comment or reblog as I don't post asks sent in response to other asks.

[moonyssmommyy]

My Marauders Headcanons Pt. 11 ~ Bartemius Crouch Jr

LOVES pizza

His fav food fr

Low-key like more dramatic than Sirius

Beater on the Slytherin Quidditch Team

Doesn't ever do a damn thing with his hair

It's always messy as fuck

Loves piercings

Has quite a few

Has one especially questionable one

Also loves tattoos

Has quite a few of those too

Always down to get a tattoo or piercing so if you want to get one and don't want to do it alone Barty's your man

Black is his fav color

Though Pandora says it can't be his fav bc black is the absence of color

Has a huge soft spot for Pandora

Besties with Regulus and Evan

Surprisingly close with Dorcas

Like ofc they're close

But they're way closer than you'd imagine

They make fun of each other alot

Bought everyone a pair of converse bc he thinks they should match even though they're not the same color

Evan wears them even though he's partial to Vans

Pandora adores them and they're quite worn out bc of it

Regulus actually wears them everyday though he still wears his dress shoes during class

Although Dorcas already has enough shoes and she has a pair of black converse, barty got her a pair of olive green ones that she adores, they tie for top spot as hair fav pair of shoes

Has friends in all houses

Isn't really that bad if he likes you

But he has a very specific image of how someone should be so it depends

If you do however fit such standards and then you do something that doesn't line up with Barty's view of you he'll be very upset and feel betrayed

As if you've lied to him about the most important thing in the world

Hypersexual

Wasn't really insane until his friends started dropping like flies

He was just slightly...unhinged

He can be really clingy even though he tries so hard not to be

He's aware of it and absolutely hates it

His friends mean so much to him and he just wants to be with them all the time which is really hard especially with Regulus because he absolutely needs his personal space

Barty does best with Pandora as she's quite affectionate but sometimes he can get on her nerves too

He also has an unhealthy obsession with snakes

Speaking of obsessions he gets very easily obsessed

Has many rings

Which is really unnecessary because he wears the same ones everyday

Can not go without them

He has formed an emotional attachment to them

They bring him comfort

Will panic if he notices one missing

He paints a lot

His paintings are really messy and really beautiful

Loves music just as much if not more than Regulus

Adores spicy food

The more it burns the better

He's kind of a masochist

But he's a sadist too

He's really tall and lanky

He has nice arms though

Not particularly muscular

But they're really nice

BPD King 👑

Calls Regulus Reggie to piss him off but later regrets it because he loses Reg for awhile

Sad boi Barty

AHHHHHHHHHH the Barty Brain Rot is real

No one will ever understand how much I love him

[masterwords]

I had a fun idea!

Derek is very tired during a difficult case and throws himself a little over enthusiastically onto the bed of the cheap motel they're staying in and breaks it. He goes to the front desk but they're all booked out and the only person in the team with a twin room is Hotch...

Well, anon, that idea is fun indeed! I had some fun with this, it flew from my head to the doc at lightning speed...I hope you like it! <3 It was nice to step out of the angst I've been writing lately and do a little cute mutual pining nonsense with adorable derek and awkward hotch. thank you for making my brain go bzzzzz!

pairing: pre-hotchgan (maybe...maybe not...)

words: 1.7k

**

He didn’t mean to. That’s all he can think as he stands in front of the door to room 164 with its crooked 6 and chipped up paint. The bright orange paint is old, probably seven layers of lead beneath whatever they last put on when they re-branded. He knows how this works, his mother worked in plenty of cheap hotels when he was growing up and he can remember each time she came home with a new uniform from new owners who slapped a coat of paint on and hoped it would fool people into thinking it wasn’t the same shitpot it always had been. His hand hovers over the door, loosely balled into a fist, ready to knock. He could always sleep in the SUV.

The thing is, he knows Hotch isn’t going to have a problem with him moving in. It isn’t like they spend much time in their rooms anyway, and he might even get a laugh out of the way Derek had come by this need for a new room it’s just...things have been awkward lately. He’s always sort of had a thing for Hotch, the Gucci ties and the expensive suits are easy on the eyes and he’s no fool. He knows Hotch would be a good date from beginning to end, they’ve known each other long enough that he’s certain of many things...the problem is, lately he’s been getting a vibe like maybe Hotch might have a thing for him too.

Things got a little awkward during the ride home from New York, that case was when he started to notice things. Little things. And his own feelings of jealousy hadn’t helped anything but that ride home. Well.

He thinks again about sleeping in the SUV, even turns to look at it. He could curl up in the back and be perfectly comfortable. It’s not cold and there are emergency blankets back there. New York wasn’t that long ago and Hotch is still pretty messed up by it, he’s not likely to want company. He’s nearly to his decision when the door opens to reveal Hotch nearly stepping right into him, looking at his phone.

“Morgan?” he asks, confused. Derek offers him a sheepish smile.

“Hey boss. I got a little problem.”

“The front desk called to verify that it was alright to move you into the room. You’re welcome to stay. I have to go sign some new papers with the attendant, make yourself at home.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the beds were so…”

“It isn’t a problem Morgan. Back in a minute.”

That minute turns into something that starts to worry Derek as he unpacks his bag for the second time during this trip. He doesn’t spread out as much though, Hotch has his things in certain places and he’s not going to intrude, he’s just going to make a little space. They use the same toothpaste, that thought buzzes through his mind right about when he hears the key in the door and smells the pizza before he even sees it.

“I brought back dinner,” Hotch announces, tossing his keys on the little desk with a clatter before setting the box down. “Do you still like extra olives?”

“Hell yeah,” Derek says, walking back into the main room with a smile. “Olives, mushrooms and green peppers. What do I owe ya?”

“My treat.”

Derek studies Hotch as he moves around the room, slipping out of his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket. Had he been wearing them the whole time or had he just put them on to go out? Derek thinks it was the former. He rarely allowed himself to be comfortable during cases.

“Well hey, thanks man. For letting me crash in your room and buying me dinner.”

He thinks he can detect the slightest hint of a blush in Hotch’s cheeks as he fumbles around in the little kitchenette for paper plates. Of course he brought paper plates. A man who never eats during cases still thinks about these things.

“You can turn on the television if you’d like.”

“You wanna watch something?”

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, I’ll probably just take a shower and go to bed. Please don’t mind me.”

“Wait, you’re not even gonna eat the pizza?”

Hotch levels his gaze at Derek helplessly and suddenly Derek can see something he’s been concealing for weeks now. He’s not just a little off the mark, he’s actually suffering. He hides it too well. It’s almost scary.

“And here I was thinking you were setting up some kinda date night here…” Derek says quietly, a sneaky little smile on his face. He’s trying to lighten the mood and the way the crease disappears between Hotch’s brows says it almost worked. Almost.

“Is this really how you think I…” Hotch starts, but catches himself. He’d been lulled in by the warmth of the room, by Derek lounging easily on his bed, by the smell of pizza as Derek flips mindlessly through television channels. It was almost too easy to let himself slide, to let himself bare something he shouldn’t. Derek doesn’t miss it though. Not even a little. He drops the remote and sits upright.

“How I think you what?”

Hotch hums and runs his thumb along his fingernails, back and forth against his thigh. Derek is looking at him expectantly, he has to finish the sentence.

“Okay. So you wouldn’t do it this way. How would you do it?”

“How would I…?”

“First date. You and me. If it’s not a broken bed and a pizza with some shitty made for TV movie starring Tori Spelling then...what is it?”

He’s clammed up pretty bad, just standing there hovering between honesty and the feeling that he’s about to cross a line from which he can never return. The thoughts in his head are so wildly inappropriate he can’t even believe he’s entertaining them. The thing is, some part of him fundamentally changed when Haley had him served with divorce papers. This innate part of him that placed work on some pedestal, the part of him that said if he worked hard enough everyone around him would benefit from it. He knew now that it was all lies he was feeding himself when all he was really doing was avoiding giving himself to something that might really hurt. And in the end? Well, it hurt worse than he ever could have imagined.

Now he’s looking at Derek and thinking about how badly this could hurt, but he’s not scared of it like he used to be. He would land on his feet if he had to leave this job. It would be better not to be disgraced, but he thinks he’d land on his feet even if he was. People had done just fine after much worse rules being broken.

“Hotch?” Derek asks, standing now. “You okay?”

“Oh. Yeah. Just thinking, I’m sorry.”

“Thinking about what I asked or how to get out of it?”

Hotch smiles and shrugs. “A little of both.”

“You’re worried about breaking some arbitrary fraternization rules when I haven’t even kissed you yet. If I did, would you immediately start planning your next career move?”

Derek is having a little too much fun now, watching the bright red rise against Hotch’s throat.

“Hotch, chill out. I’m just flirting. There’s no harm in that.”

Hotch looks down at his feet for a moment and feels the burn of honesty in his chest. It isn’t that simple for him, it never has been. And that’s why it hurts so bad when he messes it all up. “There is if it isn’t just flirting.”

“What else would it be?”

Silence. Hotch feels like he’s on stage beneath a spotlight and he’s forgotten all of his lines. How did he get here? He should have been more adamant that he was going to take that shower. The dizziness and ringing in his ears is bad and he’s fighting against it with everything he’s got, which is making it a lot harder to navigate these dangerous waters. But then Derek’s hand is taking his, his long fingers smoothing Hotch’s worrying thumb, holding it in place.

“Hotch. It’s okay to have feelings for me. I got ‘em for you too. All the time we’ve spent together over the years, all the things we’ve shared that no one else will ever come close to? The injuries and the nightmares and all that travel time...I think it’d be impossible not to feel strongly about each other. Doesn’t make it wrong and the Bureau’s rules can’t change the reality of it.”

“I’m your boss,” Hotch whispers finally, devastation in his voice. “It would be a gross misuse of my power.”

At that, Derek laughs incredulously and shakes his head. “You’re a trip, man. You know that?”

“Too many things could go wrong,” Hotch offers after a moment to reconsider his trepidation. “It would be a mistake.”

Derek shrugs. “Yeah. Maybe. I got rules about dating people I work with. You would if you’d ever given that any thought...but when I think about all the reasons I don’t date where I work, none of those things would be an issue with you.”

“What if something happened?”

“Alright. Hey. I was just tryin’ to flirt a little, see if you would maybe flirt back. If you’re thinking something more serious, here’s my offer: you go take your shower, do some thinking. Come back out and eat a piece of pizza and watch this movie with me. When the case is done...we meet up and talk this out. And if we decide it’s too complicated or maybe the emotion was just running a little wild tonight and it didn’t mean anything? No harm no foul.”

“Do you mean it?” Hotch asks, finally meeting Derek’s eyes. “Because the last thing I would ever want…”

Derek shakes his head and cuts him off with a gentle squeeze of his hand, the hand he’s still holding. “I mean it. No harm no foul.”

[oddeyecadia]

another set of pricefield headcanons "i love you i want us both to eat well" edition aka how they eat/cook together !!

- whenever max and chloe would eat or share food together i just know chloe's acts of service ass ALWAYS cuts and put food on max's plate first before she does literally anything else like this is just second nature to her. she always gives max the bigger half of the food too even tho max gets full easily, chloe would just eat it if ever max has any left overs anyway.

- max always make sure she orders a different drink from what chloe orders whenever they're at a cafe or something just so they could exchange orders if ever chloe doesn't end up liking hers. doesn't matter if max likes her original order better, she'll give chloe the better drink/food every single time. (i've written a scene inspired by some of these on ch. 2 of my pricefield tatbilb au fic here so go check it out if y'all want !! <33)

- max doesn't like eating the little white strings on cuties/oranges for texture reasons so chloe always removes them for her whenever they share one

- the olive theory!!! chloe loves olives while max hates them so whenever they go for pizza max would just automatically remove the olives on her slice and put it on chloe's without a word and chloe would just let her

- max feeding fries in chloe's mouth whenever she's driving!!!! she'd sometimes tease her and put way too much in her mouth so chloe could shut up

- i feel like max isn't necessarily a picky eater but there are a lot food textures she doesn't enjoy and u bet chloe memorized each and every one of that shit

- (slight nsfw) "i love you i want us both to eat well" chloe would say this whenever she wants to 69 and max absolutely hate and adore it at the same time

- idc what anyone says chloe is the "who tf is burning my kitchen?" wife and max is the "making breakfast for the love of my life 😍😍😍" wife

- they're both messy cooks max knows how to follow some recipes but sometimes she couldn't help but add some unheard of spice in there out of curiosity and completely ruin the dish, chloe "measurements are for cowards" price just eyeballs every ingredient and would somehow manage to create a dish u could find at five star hotels

- their usual setup while cooking together is basically just chloe doing all the work while max just stands there being her favorite emotional support sous chef giving her kisses every 2 minutes. sometimes chloe would make max do some silly little tasks "treat it like a side quest" she said and max suddenly is all for it (she's mixing something that's already been mixed) but then would get distracted and 5 minuets later she's opening all the drawers to stare at different utensils like the natural wanderer she is

[madamesmoke]

Funky Ideas

Dickie threatens Slade with a sex ban

Respawn or Rose have to do a family tree for school... they take the assignment very seriously (Rose just wants to fuck with Slade and Dick)

That'd also be funny if it was Damian (or Lian through JayRoy (pirate uncle ftw)) [Lian telling Grandpa Ollie ALL about her favorite pirate uncle and how happy he makes uncle dick and the yummy food he makes. Oliver having one heart attack after the other with this information]

Slade and/or Dick are called into the school (maybe for the family project. Maybe Rose got reprimanded for bullshit (dress code))

Slade bringing Dickie food at work (I know it's been done already, but it's too funny.

Dickie gushing about his adorable little baby brother, maybe repeatedly for months, just to have "bigger than Bruce-tank" Jason appear (could bring him food, pick him up for sibling time....)

Joey being a little shit and calling Dick "dad" in front of his coworkers, maybe pulling Grant along (he is suffering, Grant just wanted to get pizza (Joey tricked him))

Dickie and/or Tim succumbing to the combined mother-henning of Slade and Jason

Bruce has hired Slade as his head of security (he needs a civilian presence). Now, Bruce doesn't like him very much, but Alfred approves and Dickie is the happiest he's ever been. The Press is having a field day

[redheadspark]

👋🏿 for your 2nd January Prompts.

Scenario: 4. Your OTP both not feeling well and calling in take out to eat in their sweatshirts and pj pants.

Dialogue: 3. "how come you always end up under my blanket?" With......Oliver!

Happy Writing!

A/N - HOORAY STELLA! This is gonna have cute all over it for Oliver! Thanks for requesting it my dear!

Lazy

Summary - You felt bad for getting your husband sick. Oliver, however, don't seem to mind it too much

Warnings - Just some fluffiness sprinkled in this one :)

It was the rays of the sunlight that woke you first, having you grimace in your warmth that was both from being under the comforter of your bed and being in the arms of your husband. Yet when you moved, he grunted and tried to keep you against him, making you swat his arm.

"Come off it, luv. I need to get us some tea and some herbs," You hummed to him as you looked at your watch on the nightstand, "Bloody hell, it's already 11:30"

"Let's get lunch then," Oliver grumbled against your neck as you sighed and rubbed your eyes, "I've been cravin' some Pizza,"

"Not with your stomach you're not getting it," You reasoned as you finally pulled off his arm around you like a suctioned octopus leg. Oliver groaned as he dove his head over the cover to hide from the sunlight pouring into your little bedroom, "Come on, Oli. I'll open the window and you shower. I'll call for some soup and bread, and I'll brew us some tea. I might as well since I'm the one who got you sick."

"I told ya before, it's not yer fault. Those kids carry the germs!" Oliver said under the covers. You giggled, reaching over to throw off the comforter and see him squint from the light hitting his face.

"Still, I feel bad my students got me sick, just to get you sick. So go take a shower and change the sheets, I'll order us food and make some tea, deal?" You asked with a raised tone, Oliver grinning as he rose up on his knees and knelt in front of you while he was still on the couch. He did look rather adorable in his old Gryffindor Quidditch sweatpants, his hair tousled and pushed out of his eyes, and the clear evidence of him riding out the cold and sniffles he's had for the past few days. You felt him reach up to frame your face with his calloused fingers and cool palm while he were in your own Quidditch sweatpants and training shirt.

"I'm a yer command, my dear," He hummed, his voice still scratchy with a hint of grogginess to it as you pecked his lips a few times. He was about to pull you in with one arm around your curves when you chuckled and pushed him back on the bed. He bounced, laughter on his lips as you grabbed a sweatshirt to throw on and tip toe out of the room. You could hear him tearing down the bedsheets and humming to himself as you made it to the tiny kitchen and took out your phone, already knowing what to order while you got out your tea bags and a fresh kettle of water on the stove.

You were an after school teacher to 5 and 6 years old at the local Muggle town you and Oliver were living in, a small little town that was not too far away from the city and not too far away from the Magical communities in the countryside. Ever since the war, more Magical families were steering out to be amongst the Muggles since it was no longer shamed up or dangerous. With Voldermort gone and his followers once again fleeing to the shadows, things felt a lot safer and easier for the rest of the Wizarding community. The first thing you and Oliver did was move out into a small little town, traveling distance to your families and yet out of site from the linger gossip that was still there about Voldemort.

Teaching little ones was a blessing for you, taking over at the local primary school in the afternoon to watch the children until their parents came to get them from work. Of course, you never used magic in front of Muggles, but you never minded bringing some wonder and joy to them in Arts and Crafts and outdoor exploring in the countryside. Before you knew it, you were becoming popular with the children and their parents, which made you happy since you were hesitant if you wanted to have your own children down the road with Oliver. Oliver was still on the Reserved team for Puddlemore, though he was branching out to do more Quidditch reporting for the Daily Prophet. He even had to Apparate to the Ministry of Magic a few times a month to turn in his reports and pieces he would write, giving him a good chunk of change for the pair of you.

But of course, working with children came with a price: catching their germs.

You hung up the phone and grinned, knowing your soup would arrive to your doorstep within the next 20 minutes since the local restaurants down the road had the best Chicken Noodle Soup. They knew of you and Oliver, finding you two an adorable couple, and they were going to deliver the soup fresh. Hearing the kettle sing, you turned off the burner and poured out the water into the two awaiting cups. Back in your bedroom room, you could hear Oliver playing a Vinyl on your record player, instantly lifting your mood since Oliver was entranced with the device. You grabbed the two hot mugs and walked back to the bedroom, peering in to see Oliver smoothing out a fresh set of sheets for your bed and then tossing the comforter back on. You had to roll your eyes.

"Really?" You asked, waltzing in as you handed him his cup of tea.

"It's not like we're gonna not sleep it in again," Oliver reasoned with a shrug then taking the quilt that was at the end of the bed to drape over the pair of you.

"How come you always end up under my blanket?" You asked him with amusement as you gestured to the quilt that he placed over your own legs as you joined him on the bed, "This is actually mine, you know, my mum made it for me!"

"It's cozy and it's warm," Oliver explained while you took a sip from your mug, tasting the warm herbs and the soothing flavors on your tongue, "I've always liked this blanket, plus it's always brought us luck,"

"How?" You question him.

"Well for one, you got this on your graduation day from Hogwarts, and that was the day I proposed to you," He explained to you, having you grin, "And It the first thing we brought with us to this little place we have here. And, it had your odl Quidditch shirt sewn in it,"

Your mother wanted to give to you on the day you graduated from Hogwarts, presenting it to you as you met with her and your father on the Hogwarts lawn in the early June afternoon. Your old Quidditch training shirts were sewn in the squares, a few dating back to when you first joined the team your second year as a swing Chaser. But you worked your way up to being Second Captain, behind Oliver of course who was beaming with pride on that day too when you showed him. The stitching in the fabric, the thickness of it too, you knew your mother worked hard to make it perfect.

And it was.

"Let's finish our tea before our soup comes in the next few minutes, and we can relax in bed for the day," Oliver explained as you both were sipping your tea, "We haven't had a day together in a few weeks any who,"

"Just don't spill on the bed then," You teased, Oliver wrapping an arm around your shoulders to have you lean against him and the midday sun pouring into your little window. Life still crept day, even after the war at Hogwarts and loosing some loved one along the way. all you could do was take each day, Oliver next to you with his hand holding yours, and make sure you never looked back.

And as your soup was delivered and you both fed each other in your bed, giggling every once in awhile at how Oliver nearly spilled the hot soup on your sheet, you knew the that were were lighter days ahead.

Oliver had your days lighter, and he always will.

The End.

January Prompt Part 2.

[debbeh]

Rate all of Negatus outfits ?

Yes! (Lemme know if I forgot any)

Regular outfit: 10/10 perfect. Astonishing. Chefs kiss. Smash.

Dirty Ernie: 4/10 c’mon man you can do better. Smh. Probably smells like garbage. 11/10 if he committed to the redemption arc tho. FIFA world champion.

Imperatrix is dead: -100/10 that’s not my Negatus. He never grew out his beard, he never ate olive pizza for breakfast, and the VR thing NEVER HAPPENED.

Santa: 6/10 pale and slimy and gross but also 10/10 character redemption

Prison Negatus: 8/10 actually. I need more Debbie and Negatus working together PLSSS

Steve or Jim or something: 9/10 lovely makeup, adorable nerd, maximum rizz. Why’d you have to go and murder people and be a bad team player?? You were so close man 😭

Pjs: 10/10 absolute snuggler. Bro is snug as a bug in a rug. Bro is eeping to the max.

No helmet cool glasses: 9.5/10 hella spooky in a cool way, absolute sass monster. Minus .5 for the rash on his gentleman’s excuse me :/

Hot Eagle: 8/10 not diggin the lip syncing but love the drama (coulda just done a Markus Isinius Crasinus smh). Keep it up.

Mech suit: 7.5/10 once again could have been so much more -but also, he’s a dumb lil guy so I’ll give him that. Not digging the cod-piece but everything else is good.

Lumberjack: 100000/10 SMASH SMASH SMASH SMASH. ARMS. SUNGLASSES. ARMS. CARROTS. EMOTION? SMASH.

[simplepotatofarmer]

♥️ last song you listened to? - overthinker by willis!

🧡 ideal pizza toppings? - hmmm. we get donair pizza when we do get pizza but otherwise i'd say mushrooms and black olives.

💛 dream vacation? - anything. a few days where we don't have to do anything. i'd like to just go to a nice hotel.

💚 earth, air, fire or water? - earth!

💙 cartoon you grew up on? - i feel like i can't say without doxxing myself, actually. i also didn't watch a lot of tv as a kid!

💜 favourite scent? - rosemary, lilac, cinnamon, fresh bedding, this one very specific perfume from lush that i buy once a year. it's called 'junk' and i adore it.

Tags: uhhhhh i don't know who hasn't been tagged at this point so if you see this and haven't done it, you're it! <3 thank you @rutadales

[ladyinwriting18]

You're On Your Own, Kid (Adam Sackler x You)

Summary: Having Adam Sackler as a neighbor and best friend has it's perk. Especially when you need a shoulder to cry on.

Words: 2,122

Warnings: No sexual warnings! Nothing but best friends being there for one another who have some hidden feelings for one another. Author's Note: This is my first ever Adam Sackler one-shot! The idea for this was heavily inspired by Taylor Swifts new song "You're On Your Own, Kid". After hearing the song ONCE I couldn't get this idea out of my head so were we go. Hope everyone enjoys!

You knock on the door of his apartment with tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t bothered to call or text. Adam hates technology. If he was free to talk he’d answer his front door and invite you in and if he wasn’t you’d wander the streets floundering in your sadness. Adam Sackler has been your next store neighbor for a year now. He was the first person in the building to be nice to you. You could clearly remember your move in date. All those heavy boxes. No one had offered to help. No one except Adam.

His help had been invaluable and as a reward you had ordered pizza that you both ate on your living room floor and got to know one another. You were fast friends after that. In the grand scheme of things, a year isn’t a long time to truly know someone, but when it comes to your friendship with Adam it feels like a lifetime. You both rely on one another more than most neighbors. Each of you have developed a habit of just showing up at one another’s apartment when in crisis or facing things like boredom. It’s hard not to when you live down the hall from one another. The two of you turn to each other for just about anything. Adam needing to run lines for an audition? You were there. Your job stressing you out? He was there. Adam dealing with his unresolved feelings for Hanna? You were there. You getting into an argument with a friend? He was there. Adam spiraling about feeling like a failure and ultimately his sobriety? You were there. You crying over a breakup? He was there Adam wanting to go out and eat Chinese food at 2AM? You were definitely there. 

Truthfully, you’re thankful for his presence in your life.  Adam might be a big goofball and a horndog but deep down he has a kind heart that he tries to hide from most people. It’s a fact you relish in because it makes you feel closer to him than any other.

You were one another’s confidants and told each other things that you didn’t dare tell another living soul.

That’s why you find yourself at his door, because right now all you need is your friend.

A moment later the door opens to reveal the hulking form of your neighbor. He’s dressed down in a simple olive green t-shirt and jeans. All while holding a freakishly large sandwich.

“Holy fuck I was just thinking about you! I just made the most banging sandwich. You gotta take a bite.”

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and that’s when he sees your tear stained cheeks.

“Shit.” Adam curses under his breath, turning away for half a second to place his sandwich down somewhere before turning back and ushering you into his place with a hand on your upper back. “Everything is going to be alright, kid. You just go make yourself comfortable on the couch.”

You do as you're told, knowing the drill well enough by now. Any second now he was going to offer you food. To Adam, food cured any ailment. You’d smile at how adorable that is if you didn’t feel so exhausted from crying.

You sit down on the couch with a sigh and pray the thing just swallows you whole.

“Can I get you anything? Food, water, a pillow?”

You shake your head while more tears escape. Your eyes meet his deep brown ones and let your words tumble out.

“I-I just need my friend.”  His features soften. He looks as if he’d give you the world if you asked for it. Without another word he comes to sit down beside you on the couch. His arm comes around you, letting you lean against him while he strokes your arm. For a few minutes, neither one of you speaks. You simply soak up the comfort being offered to you. It’s only once some of your tension dissipates that Adam speaks again. “What happened, kid? Why are you crying?” “It’s stupid.” You huff at yourself in annoyance and feverishly swipe at your tears. Just because Adam had seen you cry before didn’t make being this vulnerable any easier. You feel the tip of his nose pressing into your scalp, as if he’s trying to stop himself from smelling your hair. “Tell me anyway?” His voice is a low whisper. You do your best to suppress the shiver it triggers. Adam might be your friend but that doesn’t make him any less attractive. Determined to not be railroaded by his strong body and pretty face you sit up slightly. It gives you enough personal space to think clearly. “It’s just a build up of things. You know? Disappointments.” He chuckles in agreement, “I can say I’ve absolutely had my share of those. What’s been disappointing you?” “More like who.” You angrily mutter. “Alright then. Who’s disappointing you?” You can hear the grin in his tone without even looking at him. He’s always found your anger adorable. As infuriating as that is, it isn’t what’s important now. You came here to vent. You came here to unload so for even a few minutes this burden wasn’t yours to carry. 

Your shoulders slump in defeat. You’re suddenly too exhausted to be your normally fiery self. “A lot of people….But I guess mostly myself.” “I’m not sure I understand?” You try your best to piece your thought process together into words. It isn’t an easy task but somehow you manage. “I’m disappointed in myself because I give people too much power over me. I love too hard….care too deeply. People keep taking advantage of that and I….let them.” You choke, the words getting caught in your throat. Adam shushes you and softly prompts you to take your time. You nod, giving yourself a moment to take a few deep breaths. When you feel capable you try again to continue. “I once read somewhere that what you give power to has power over you. I think that’s my problem. I let people into my life, I love them, encourage them, give them my time and they revel in it until they move onto better things. It’s draining! I’m tired of my self worth being determined by how other people treat me!” The volume of your voice picks up a notch. Your sadness turns into bitterness that tastes like lemon rinds on your tongue. “Rationally I know that when people treat you shitty it’s not a reflection on you but it’s so hard to not blame myself. My brain automatically tells me if I was a better friend, a prettier girlfriend, a more motivated worker none of this would happen!” You swipe your arm across your face, determined to not drip snot on top of crying. You didn’t need to be gross and pathetic. Adam takes this moment to interject with a question. “Are we talking about a specific person?” You shake your head. “No, just noticing a pattern of behavior. People keep waltzing in and out of my life like it’s no big deal. As if I had no meaning to them in the first place and I’m sick. of. it.” 

Each of your words is punctuated with anger. So much so that a quiet hush falls. The only sounds come from the busy Manhattan streets below. Somewhere in the distance a car horn is blown, a group of friends loudly laughs, a dog barks at a jogger.

These noises don’t phase either of you. The sounds of the city are so much a part of your everyday life that they have no chance in snatching your attention.

But Adam’s next choice of words can.

“You’re on your own, kid. You always have been.”

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a wonder that they don’t get trapped inside your skull. “Yeah thanks Adam. That’s exactly what I need to hear right now.”

Your sarcasm drips like maple syrup down the side of a pancake stack.

Adam lightly nudges your ribs with his elbow.

“I don’t mean it like that. I mean that you’re the only one that you can truly count on. Yeah you’ve got friends and family who care about you, but in the end it’s your strength that has to carry you through.”

Goddamn him and his random insightful advice.

“But what if I’m not strong enough? What if I can’t keep this up anymore?”

The emotions begin to take over and make your eyes glassy with fresh tears.

Something tugs at your chin and turns it towards Adam. You quickly realize it’s his hand gently cupping your chin so you’re looking him in the eye.

“Of course you’re strong enough. You’ve gotten through all your past bad days, haven’t you? You did that. Not anyone else.”

You gape at him, having no clue how to respond because he’s right. Even when loved ones give you support it’s you that chooses to take that support and keep pushing forward. You lean into his touch, wanting the warmth of it to sear into your flesh.  “I-it’s really hard.” Your voice cracks. It’s too difficult to keep it all in check right now. His brows pull together, the empathy evident on his face. “I know it is, kid. But if anyone believes in you, it sure as hell is me.” “Adam…..” You breathe out his name as tremendous emotion grips your heart. Your eyes flick from his lips to his eyes. When did the two of you move closer in? Now there were only inches separating your mouths. You forget why you came here and what you were upset about. It all dissipates because the man besides you makes it all seem meaningless. Why couldn’t more people in your life be like him? Especially the men. If any of the guys you dated cared even just a fraction of the way Adam did then your love life would look a lot different. Some part of you murmurs out a question. What would it be like to kiss him? “Maybe you should focus on the people and relationships that don’t make you doubt what you mean to them?” You nod your head and simultaneously straighten your spine. He’s being sensible and it snaps you back to reality. The one where you and Adam are only friends. Given half the chance you know you would want more but the thought of ruining the safety you had found just down the hall from you is terrifying. You couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t lose your best friend. “And it’s also important that you stand on your own two feet.”

Oh shit, was he still talking?

You give him your full attention, nodding along as he continues. He also resituates his position, sitting forward so his forearms rest atop his knees.

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and you clearly take care of yourself, your home, your responsibilities but I think you’re right about not letting these douchebags affect you so much.” He turns his head to look at you, wanting to make sure his words were sinking in.

“If they don’t value you then fuck ‘em. They don’t deserve a place in your life anyway. The right people are already here for you.”

You guessed he was right but…..

“So….what? I’m supposed to just not let anyone new into my life?”

He chuckles, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle in amusement.

“No you goof. I’m telling you to live your life. Make new friends, go out and have fun, kiss lots of guys or girls, travel, do things out of your comfort zone. Take each moment and really enjoy it but don’t be afraid when disappointment comes or when people walk away.”

He leans back, finds your hand resting on your knee and places his hand over it. He laces your fingers together and reassuringly squeezes.

“You’ve got no reason to be afraid. No matter what you gain or lose, is still a step forward.”

You squeeze his hand in return and offer him a smile. And as much as some part of you still longs to know what being loved by him would feel like—you realize that here and now is you.

For healing.

For self improvement.

For happiness.

For selfishly taking care of you and you only.

Maybe one day time would be on your side. Maybe one day you’d both be ready for something more.

But for now, it was enough to be holding your best friend’s hand in his cluttered mancave of an apartment.

“Thank you, Adam.”

He grins, his uneven teeth poking through. “Anytime, kid.” 

[iheartgod175]

Some Ridiculously Detailed Zula Patrol Headcanons - Part 1

I can’t help it—these goofy goobers have been on my brain all day yesterday AND this morning, so I wanted to share a few headcanons before I head to work.

Bula

—Bula comes from a renowned military family. He has an older brother, Orion, who is eleven years older than him and was already going for the Junior Zula Corps (Zula’s version of the JROTC) when Bula was growing up.

—Bula is a theater/choir kid. His mother, who came from a family of high standards, wanted him to be “classically trained” and forced him to join the choir as a kid. Bula ended up enjoying it and briefly considered a performing arts career before pursuing the path of an astronaut, and eventually, captain of the Zula Patrol. When he graduated from high school, he faced a battle of two passions: astronomy and music. Since work in space paid more, he went with the former, although his love of music and theater never died.

—Although not quite as much as Multo, he does have a passion for science, namely astronomy, which he’s loved ever since he was a kid. It was the main reason he wanted to pursue being an astronaut, and later captain of the Zula Patrol, because there were so many situations where science could be both explored and applied.

—Due to his sheltered upbringing, where he mostly grew up around a lot of rich people, Bula has a natural curiosity about everything, and loves exploring and investigating new things. Zeeter joked that he’d be the first to die in a horror movie because he just can’t mind his own business, which he didn’t take to very well.

—He grew up imbued with a sense of responsibility, so being a kind, but no-nonsense leader is kind of his default mode. When one gets to break through his shell, however, you get to see a youthful, curious, relaxed and not-so-cool Zulean. If you’re close to him, like Zeeter and Multo are, however, you’ll be treated to the more relaxed Bula a lot more often.

—Although he sometimes worries about Multo’s tastes, he himself likes pineapples on pizza. And sunny side up eggs on burgers. The entire Zula Patrol was ready to stage a coup against him for this.

—He sometimes plays pranks on his teammates. He enjoys playing a few food pranks on Multo, knowing the professor’s particular palate—such pranks come in the form of getting certain foods from places that Multo isn’t fond of. (Ie. How some people will get Olive Garden for their Italian family as a prank).

—He can be a bit of a show off, especially when it’s to protect his friends. It can result in him biting off more than he can chew, but over the years, he’s learned to put action where his mouth is. And if an enemy were to slip up? Oh, you’d better believe he’ll take the chance to be a smug little bean.

—He likes costume design, and has a keen eye for fashion.

—He has an interest in studying Earth culture and customs, and has a love of their holidays, especially ones like Easter and Halloween. It allows him to relax and just enjoy the spirit of the holidays, especially if it allows him to dress up in costumes.

—His natural charisma, yet his clueless sensibilities on romance, basically makes him a himbo. He is quick to pick up on people having crushes on each other, but anybody having a crush on him? Completely blindsides him. He had no idea that Princess Marina of the Zulean Isles had a huge crush on him for years, even though it was obvious to literally everyone. Multo, the team’s resident absentminded professor, straight up told him this.

—Bula has a longer fuse than Zeeter, but it’s shorter than Multo’s.

—On his side of Zula, best friends are basically family—doubly so if your actual family is abusive, neglectful, etc. Bula’s father was away from home a lot and his mother had him under her thumb for years until he left home. For him, the Zula Patrol is the family he didn’t get to have growing up. He knows that there are times where he annoys them—and they annoy him—but he adores them and wouldn’t trade them for anything. And with that said, God help you if you hurt his family.

—The above rule is also the main reason why he’s so protective of Zeeter, as she showed him the world outside of his shiny, but rough, bubble. He will defend her with his life. Nobody, not even the people he respects dearly, will touch her on his watch. He’s been known to threaten people because of it.

—He’s pretty non confrontational, but will fight if he has to. According to Zeeter, he’s got a mean right hook, which he used to knock out a bully in school. That was the first and only time he ever had to fight anybody.

—He still has some of his old clothes from high school that he can fit into, much to everyone’s chagrin (especially Multo’s) XD

—Occasionally, he’ll break his own rules, especially when it comes to the no sweets rule he instilled for both Zeeter’s and Multo’s sakes.

—Bula is a “don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee” person, although not near the extreme that Zeeter is.

—He is terrible at video games, namely Mario Kart, which amuses Zeeter, Wizzy and Wigg. The latter two goad him into playing every once in a while because they find his reactions hilarious—in fact, they goad him into doing a lot of things because of it. (More in Pt. 2).

—He actually didn’t want to join any branch of the Zulean government forces in the beginning. His family, though well-off, frequently moved around due to his father’s high rank in the Zulean Navy, and the constant “keeping appearances” and underlying corruption turned him off from that lifestyle. It was unfortunate for him that his mother wanted him to follow in his father’s footsteps, namely to keep up the family name. Part of the reason he eventually joined the Zula Patrol was due to fewer restrictions, and while the pay was far less than he'd earn as a Navy captain, it allowed him to pursue his passion for astronomy and exploration, as well as helping people in the galaxy, like Earthlings helped him ages ago.

-He's an accomplished ice skater, and in one of the theater productions he was a part of, he got to show off his skills on the ice. To this day, he’s known to brag about this one skill.

Zeeter

—Zeeter's the only girl in a large family. Her family consists of her parents and six older brothers, all of whom are very competitive like she is.

—She gets a lot of her personality from her mother, who also has a sailor mouth, blunt nature, and impatience. According to her father, her mother’s traits multiplied tenfold in Zeeter, as only one other sibling (her middle brother, Silas) has a sailor mouth.

—Zeeter’s lack of a filter—both mental and language—has gotten her in trouble numerous times. Bula sometimes scolds her for it because certain situations would be inappropriate for such language, and he hardly if ever swears himself. As for Multo, he doesn’t mind (having held positions as both a scientist and professor, he’s heard everything), but gets uptight when Wizzy and Wigg picked up on it and said similar things.

—Piloting has been one of her loves ever since she was young. Her great-grandmother was a pilot and the fastest in the galaxy. In her hometown of Zazu Falls, where people are expected to move into the mountains and become miners, Zeeter was determined to become a pilot and move out of her mountain town, even though she loved it dearly.

—She has an interest in building weapons. And she totally would, too, if Bula didn’t veto that idea several times…and stop her from teaming up with Multo to build them too.

—A lot of people underestimate just how good/decorated of a pilot she is. She graduated top of her class in flight school, graduated third in the class at the Zula Academy, and had several medals to her name during her time in college. She had numerous recommendations to join both the Navy and the Army from her teachers due to her natural talent. However, she turned them down to support Bula in his journey to become captain of the Zula Patrol, as nobody in his family would support him. When she said that Bula would need the best pilot, that wasn’t a stretch of the imagination or an inflation of her ego. It was pure, simple fact, and everyone knows this.

—Zeeter’s the gamer of the team, hands down. All of the Zula Patrol “suddenly” have other things to do whenever she suggests video games for team game night, because she shows them absolutely no mercy. Mario Kart, Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat are her domains and everyone else is just visiting, in her eyes.

—Bula may think of himself as the “crazy prepared” person, but that position really belongs to Zeeter. Knowing how unpredictable their job is, she always has an array of projects going, determined to stay one step ahead of the game. Find yourself trapped in an icy bed of water? She’s got a laser to take care of that. Falling to your doom? No worries, she’s got an inflatable cushion. Sudden underwater mission? Good thing she worked on a submarine a few years ahead of time. The others recognize this and can count on her any time things don’t go as planned.

—She appreciates artists and teachers, and one of her pet peeves is when people try to deny them their hard earned pay. This happened in her own family, where her mom gave up her dream to become a flight school teacher when she realized that people expected it to be a free service rather than a career. She was furious when Multo revealed that during his early days as a professor, he turned down monetary payment, instead taking food as an option, and drilled into him that if people think his hard-earned knowledge amounts to a bowl of cereal or something, they’re not people worth teaching.

—Unlike Bula, she did consider going into the Zulean Navy, if only for their weapons building program. Watching how the lifestyle hurt Bula, however, would change her mind, and she joined him for the pilot applications of the Zula Patrol, stating that he’d need the best pilot if he was going to be captain. Her stellar accomplishments and recommendations immediately put her at the top of the list.

—She’s not a morning person by any means of the word. Bula learned this early on in their friendship when she attempted to beat him up with a skateboard when he woke her up (by contrast, Bula’s a morning person, mostly due to his military lifestyle). She puts up with the early mornings as part of her job, but if she gets a chance to sleep in on her day off, you’d better not mess with her.

—She also loves her coffee, and is one of the “don’t talk to me until my coffee kicks in” type of people. At least Bula will hold a little small talk with you. Zeeter? You’d better give her a wide berth and at least forty minutes before she’s up to chatting.

—Highly caffeinated drinks (such as an energy drink) can make her enter a state of hyperactive frenzy followed by a huge mood crash later. Sugary foods first thing in the morning also has the same effect. Bula ended up making a “no sweets before 10 AM” rule because of her, and also banned any and all kinds of energy drinks from even entering the base.

—She enjoys playing board games with Multo, mostly because the professor shows a rare competitive streak when he plays with her specifically. They have an ongoing chess thing where the winner of 65 out of 70 games has to buy the other lunch. You can guess how that goes. But Multo doesn’t mind, far from it. He enjoys the challenge, and a good meal too.

Multo

—Multo’s family consists of his parents and his three older siblings: Hugh, Alphonse, and Rachel. He’s the youngest, and an unexpected surprise. Apparently, his father, Magnus, went ghost white upon learning his wife Matilda was pregnant again, hence why he was named Multo (which means ghost). Multo is inclined to believe that’s hearsay from his older brother, Alphonse, though, who admitted that when he was younger that he didn’t want another sibling.

—His family is actually pretty loaded. His great-grandfather was a renowned explorer and astronomer, and had an estate worth the equivalent of several million dollars when he died. As Multo helped care for his great-grandfather when he was ill, he bequeathed it to him in his will, as well as much of his fortune (Multo would split it with his siblings, however, as he didn’t see the need for so much money). Despite their wealth, his parents never let it get to their heads, and remained silent millionaires.

—In addition to this, he was paid handsomely during his careers at both the Zulean Institute of Science and the Zula Academy, being one of the highest paid professors. Being one of the most popular professors meant that he had to travel at a moment’s notice, so he bought a condo in three different provinces on Zula so he could have a place to stay. When he became a member of the Zula Patrol, he sold one of his condos, and rented out the other two. The money he gets from the rent, he uses to fund programs for both the Institute and Academy, as well as any other programs to help the poor.

—He never revealed to Bula and Zeeter how rich he really was until they went on vacation, namely because he saw what so much money would do to friendships. Wizzy and Wigg were the reason he had to tell them, because they lived in one of his condos, and they asked if the condo they were going to was in Zazu Falls or the one in the mountains. Bula straight up asked him why he was even working. However, they didn’t treat Multo any differently after finding out how rich he was, and often have to remind him to spend responsibly. He’s the type who loves to spend money on those he loves, after all.

—He comes from a province of Zula where bugs and cephalopods are as common as salt and pepper, and is a staple in a lot of their dishes. The only thing is, certain foods such as Red Ruby Squid and slugs are toxic to other Zuleans, but not to Multo’s kind. In his culture, it’s common to share the delicacies with their loved ones. When Multo was appointed as the team’s cook, he was so thrilled that he decided to share his culture with his friends. The rest of them are not fond of it at all, but they put up with it because they know his heart’s in the right place.

—On a technical sense, he’s not a bad cook. Zeeter recognized that and through trial and error, helped him expand his palate so the team could have something edible. XD

—Multo’s love of science is matched by his love of food. When he started out as a professor, he was content with taking food and goods as payment rather than money (since he was already wealthy), and happily enjoys his chess bet with Zeeter, because after all, if she gets treated to a good lunch, he also gets treated to a good lunch. He and his brother Hugh were stated to have the biggest appetites among his four siblings. There’s no leftovers when he’s at the table, as he’s known to have thirds or even fourths if he’s hungry. He also has a huge sweet tooth, with donut and cake being his favorites.

—He’s also a bit of a theater buff, and was a member of drama club when he was in high school, either directing productions or helping with last minute productions. This is one of many reasons why he and Bula get along so well.

—He’s an avid collector of old stories and books.

—He’s a decent pilot, though nowhere near the level that Zeeter is, of course. He likes to collect old planes and restore them (which he can do due to his wealth).

—Without a doubt, he possesses the longest fuse of the team. But two things can burn that fuse away in an instant: anybody wreaking havoc in his lab, and anybody hurting/killing his loved ones or innocent people. The few times he’s legitimately gotten angry are apparently sights to behold, and even Zeeter, who possesses the shortest fuse of the team, is wary of pissing him off. He gets his temperament from his mother, who’s a jovial woman, but can apparently “kill a demon with a look” according to his father.

—Multo took up mixed martial arts in high school and continued onward through college, like his siblings did, although unlike his brothers he stopped short of achieving a black belt. He was nicknamed the “Iron Giant” in class. Multo at first thought that it was because his size made him more durable, but it was really because students claimed that one blow from him would break every bone but his own. The fact that he knows just which bones to hit to incapacitate his opponents doesn’t help. Multo finds this odd because he never broke anybody’s bones during class (which was considered illegal and resulted in immediate expulsion from the class).

—To add to the above, his fighting style is similar to his brother Hugh, in that he prefers a single knock out blow rather than mindlessly hitting people, unlike Alphonse. Not that he can’t defend himself if necessary, but it’s just his personal preference. On the other hand, if Multo starts whaling on someone, it’s a sign that the offending party did something to incur that level of wrath.

—In addition to food, he appreciates a good alcoholic drink. Preferably wine, but he also enjoys a good brandy. His favorite thing to do is to sneak some into his beverages, especially tea.

—He has a slight competitive streak when it comes to playing games with Zeeter, hence why the chess streak was a thing.

—Though not terribly good at most board games, and absolutely terrible at video games, he still plays them because he enjoys a good challenge and making memories with his friends. Give him a card game or a quiz game, though? There’s little to no trace of the kindhearted professor they know—he displays a rare ruthlessness that actually scared his oldest friends. He made both Bula and Zeeter rage quit Uno and Old Maid on vacation. And may god help the soul who suggests Monopoly. Nobody’s getting out of there alive.

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This list is already insanely long, so I’m going to make a part 2 regarding the other characters soon enough! Let me know which ones were your favorites!

Enjoy!