#yeah i’ll add that to my headcanons

[seagull-scribbles]

*Aggressively throws this at your head*

[hum--hallelujah]

all ears and all scars - Danger Days/America's Suitehearts, Dr. Benzedrine & Horseshoe Crab character/relationship study & hurt/comfort

~

There's only so much a silent sandpup like him can do. Understanding only goes so far. In the end, it seems the others always turn to him, as if he has any idea what he's doing. All he knows is that he wants to make life better for them. It's the same thing they all want for each other, isn't it?

Benze wants to make life better by making it safer, offering help where it's needed, making something out of what he's lost. Sandman wants to make life mean something, be it by love or smuggling. Donnie wants to make the harm he's done mean something. Crab just wants to make his friends know that their lives do mean something, already, without any of that.

When Sandman and Donnie go to the races sometimes Crab stays behind. If they're not taking the van, there’s no point. They can’t all ride on Sandman’s bike, anyway. Half the time Crab and Benze stay back, do inventory, bicker silently and make each other crazy trying to read or talk. The fact that Crab’s shit at reading and Benze is shit at signing makes things difficult. But they make it work.

Crab will admit it can be frustrating. Not just that Benze never seems to be able to learn sign, that’s just the way his brain works, or doesn’t work; but that the other see him as someone solid, a fallback. He’s not too much of everything the way Sandman is, or trapped inside himself like Donnie. Benzedrine’s brain is broken. Crab is arguably the most steady of them, but they think he knows what he’s doing. They think it’s on purpose, instead of accidentally stumbling into exactly what he needs to do. He’s fumbling through everything and they don’t even see it.

It’s never bothered him as much as it should that he can’t talk anymore. The wound itself hurt like hell when it happened and it took a long time to get used to it, but it doesn’t cause him grief anymore. He thinks, sitting on a rusty stool in the garage while Benze flips through a medical journal one of their sources had slipped into a shipment as a bonus, humming something under his breath about surgeries and biometrics and cybernetic replacements, that it bothers the others more than it does him.

And oh, Sandman is chill about it. They knew each other as kids, though Crab was never as close with him as Donnie was, but meeting up again as they are now, one of them more jaded and one with vocal cords severed, never seemed to faze him. Most sandpups grow up at least vaguely versed in sign, anyway. But Donnie will never forgive himself, and Benze spent a week after they met trying to avoid him before asking, suddenly, if he could examine the wound. Crab had sat patiently, curiously, while the strange little guy’s hands had probed and pressed at his throat. Benze had apologized, said he wished they’d met sooner. Crab thinks he still regrets that by the time they knew each other it was too late for him to do anything. But Crab doesn’t care.

He waves a hand in the air for way too long before Benze registers the movement. That's how he knows it's bad. When Benze looks over, there's something faintly glazed in his eyes, like the blue has been mixed up in a sandstorm. He's not exactly focused. There's a wildness in his gaze. Not many people clock it, but Benze is a whirlwind. They see the soft roundness of his face, the wide eyes, the complete and utter lack of understanding of how life works in the Zones, the way he struggles with words and language, and think he's an easy target, something fragile. They don't know the heart that beats behind those soft clothes and sunburnt skin.

Benze might be crazy. His brain is definitely broken. He doesn't think the way anyone else does. He doesn't talk straight — tenses change a the time, his words come out in the wrong order, similar sounding words mixed up, syllables misspoken. There's times he gets confused about people's names. His own name, sometimes, even. The things inside his head just don't work right.

"Are you okay?" Crab signs slowly, concentrating on making the movements clear. He's known sign for most of his life but only had to speak in it for two years. His habits are sloppy, hands slurred.

Benze blinks a few times, quickly. "Am I... okay?" He checks, face forming into a quick flash of a frown. Crab nods. "Oh," Benze says. "I'm... thinking but fine?"

Crab doesn't think that's how he meant that sentence to sound. He forms his response off his best guess. Maybe they're always trying to translate each other. "Thinking about what?" There's about a half dozen phrases the two of them can bounce back and forth. They've had some version of his conversation, either out of concern or curiosity, enough times that this, at least, is easy to translate.

Benze takes a pause to process the question. There's an untidy stack of papers in his hand, pages torn from books, dictionaries, zines, anywhere Benze could find them. He looks like if he thinks much harder he's going to drop them. Crab huffs with a smile and leaves his stool behind with a hop, reaches out and takes the sheets from his friend before they slip and cut his hands. Benze might think Sandman is the careless one of the bunch, but Benze hurts himself more often than any other.

"You," Benzedrine mutters faintly, glazed-over eyes squinting upwards at Crab. "The... if I could... you... I want just..." he purses his lips the way he does when he realizes his words are getting all tangled up. "Maybe it's not too late?" he says shrilly, high pitched and hesitant and determined all mixed up.

Crab shakes his head. He sets the papers all down and snags Benze's hands in his own. Benze freezes, any small movement stalling completely as he jerks his eyes down to the contact. He'll let Crab know if it's too much. It always startles him but it isn't usually bad. It always startles Crab how warm his hands are, too. He always expects Benze's hands to be cold to the touch, but they're warm and soft and uncalloused. He wonders idly if Benze would let them paint his nails.

He's not gonna use any words for this. He's too much at a loss for that. He doesn't see his condition as something that needs fixed. But he's stopped being offended by Benzedrine's fixation on it. He's a doctor. He thinks he's supposed to fix things. Crab thinks it might be the only way he knows how to show love. He never knows what to say and he has to let his hands speak for him anyway. Sign isn't the only way to do that. If it all goes wrong they'll figure it out as they go.

He draws one of Benze's hands up and lets it go. Benzedrine's eyes become suddenly clearer as his hand hovers just over the thick, raised scar across his throat. His breathing hitches and his eyes flick to Crab's. "I'm sorry," he whispers. Crab isn't sure if he means for overstepping or for the wound itself. Crab shakes his head again either way.

Benze carefully runs soft fingers over the scar. The feather-light touch almost makes Crab flinch, but instead he leans into it, pressing his neck into Benzedrine's hand. It's an incredibly vulnerable position to be in. A doctor should know that. By the careful steadiness of Benze standing in front of him, straw-colored hair illuminated by ugly solar-rigged fluorescent lights, Benzedrine does.

Crab wonders if Benze can feel the fast, fluttery way his heart is beating. He's out of his depth, so far at a loss. He's trying to do the right thing and terrified it's wrong.

"Your pulse is fast," says Benze. His familiar fingers move from the pinkish scar to Crab's pulse point, pressing gently under his jaw. "Are you okay?" He asks, turning Crab's question back on him.

Crab lifts his hands up between them. "If you are," he signs, so wholeheartedly his hands shake. This whole thing scares him. Benzedrine's insanity, the mess in his head that drove him to shoot up just to get away from it. The fact that they'll never really understand each other. The way he's always offering reassurances but sometimes wants some for himself. If he can make others okay then maybe he can reassure himself next.

Benze stares at his hovering hands for a moment, then grabs them again, like he doesn't want to let go. "But you're shaking," he observes, almost clinically. "Your pulse is racing. You're nervous," he says. "You asked me if I'm okay but you're anxious." He says all this calmly and confidently, as a doctor, but then glances up at Crab with a question asking in his eyes.

Crab hesitates, but nods. He feels out of his depth, and he can't swim. Like the way it feels when you're falling asleep and jerk awake with the feeling that you're falling, losing your balance. Maybe that's it. He hasn't been sleeping well. Nightmares he can't tell anyone else about because they'd only make the life they've built worse. So he nods. And doesn't offer an explanation. He isn't sure he has one.

"Why?"

Crab shrugs. He suctions his tongue to the roof of his mouth, like sealing his mouth shut makes any difference. He shifts his weight, almost swaying back and forth on his feet.

Benze hums a few low notes, the way he does sometimes. They never have any particular melody. But Benzedrine has a beautiful voice. "Can I help?" He asks, half sing-song.

"I wish," Crab signs bitterly, pulling one hand away to form the words and mouthing them silently at the same time.

With unusual clarity, Benze peers up at him, before questioning, "You wish what?"

"You could help," signs Crab. He doesn't quite care if Benze gets it or not. Whatever strange nervous, feedback loop energy is hanging in the air says enough already. "I'm just tired," he adds. The doctor will accept that explanation even if Crab's own mind will not. He has no real reason to be bothered. He wasn't bothered a minute ago. He's supposed to be worrying about Benze, not the other way about.

Benze catches the last word, used enough in the station to be familiar to him. Maybe if the others used sign more, it would help him learn it better? Or maybe his brain just won't accept it, maybe things will always be stilted like this. "Tired?" He hums thoughtfully. "Are you sleeping enough?" He asks, his hands moving back to either side of Crab's neck. Much longer and he's going to start going through the motions of a checkup, lights flashed in eyes and all.

Crab nods. He's always some form of tired. Aren't they all? Sleep doesn't change it. Benze should know that by now. "Not always well," he admits, because he is a mostly honest person, unless you play cards against him.

Benze, after the cautious confusion of working out the words, nods, like he expected that. Maybe he did. Far be it from Crab to know what goes on in that cracked head of his. Far be it from Crab to know much of anything, maybe. He’s been operating on instinct for so long that paying attention starts to feel weird. Benze continues humming, a light sound that’s half thought, half music. It’s tense, like most things about him, but soothing.

His thumbs run over the scar over Crab’s throat again and he tips his head in a parody of a knowing shrug. “Bilateral vocal cord paralysis can lead to increased fatigue,” he says. It’s less cold, doctorish and more flowing into that continued subconscious hum he carries on. “You might not even notice it. The effort of even breathing takes more work due to the lack of function… here,” he says, pressing slightly on parallel spots at Crab’s throat. It makes Crab’s breath stutter outside his control, and his eyes lock onto Benze’s.

Benze is staring fixedly at Crab’s face, brows folded slightly, watching for his reaction. It’s unsettling. Still, despite instinct welling up inside him, he trusts that though Benze might be crazy, he’s still his best friend. He would never hurt him.

He forms one hand into the single letter 'Y' and his face into a question. Benze watches it intently, adds the two together. “When the vocal cords are paralyzed they usually fall into a default position that’s too close together to allow for perfect normal breathing. The remaining throat muscles have to pick up the slack, which requires more effort than simply the medulla oblongata and pons’ rhythms.”

Crab doesn’t know what much of that means. He doesn’t know much of anything, as a matter of fact. But when Benze moves his hands away, he knows he misses the touch. It’s a strange version of the kind of comfort Crab usually offers. He’s not used to being on the other side of it.

“Did you know you snore?” Benze hums quietly. He’s shuffling through his stack of papers again while Crab stands unsure of himself in the same place, and looking back over his shoulder. Crab shrugs. Makes sense, he guesses. Benze nods. “That’s why.”

Crab looks over Benze’s shoulder at the papers. He can read some of it, tentatively, uneasily. It’s all the things Benzedrine was muttering about earlier, he thinks. It unsettles him, but at the same time, this is how Benze cares about people. By caring for them. Maybe they’re a little bit alike in that way. He sets his hand on Benzedrine’s shoulder and reaches, fumbles more like, for a pen he’d seen him writing with earlier.

You don’t have to fix me, he writes next to the heading of a lone page of a heartless medical advertisement. It’s wobbly and spelled by sound, so probably not right, but Benze gets it right away. He stares from Crab’s shitty handwriting on the page and then into his eyes. Crab doesn’t know what’s going on in there, but does he ever?

“I know,” he says eventually. “But I still wish-“

Crab signs, “Wish what?”

“That I could help.”

Crab nods. He leans against the work table, stares down at the mess there. He taps one of Benze’s books. It’s one of the ones he goes back to when he’s trying to explain his practices. It’s old and soft around the edges and was written by a real human. Benze says it was one of the only things he had on his person when he broke for the Zones. The humanity is written in the pages. “Read to me?” He signs slowly, not because it’s something he thinks will help Benze. It might. Maybe even probably will. But it’s something he thinks will help him. Maybe even probably.

Benze’s eyes go wide and startled for a moment when he gets the gist of what Crab is saying. Crab thinks he pieces it together more from the gesture to the book and the asking in his eyes than by the actual words he spells with his hands. That doesn’t bother him. And Benze, after a few moments’ hesitation, leaves his stack of scavenged papers to reach for the book.

“Okay,” he says, not quite a question but nearly there. “…Inside?”

Crab huffs, the lift in his chest just brushing the edge of his lips. He nods, loops an arm around Benzedrine’s shoulders when he turns toward the door to the rest of the station. He starts to pull away when Benze tenses up, but he shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” Benze assures him. “It’s fine. You’re good,” he says, far more casual, loose even, than he’s seemed all day. Maybe the switch has flicked somewhere in that cracked brain of his, and the light is getting in. He glances sideways at Crab and offers a smile. His smile is always a little off. Too wide, not wide enough, too flat, something wrong in his eyes. But it’s genuine. He never smiles unless he means it.

They wind up settling on the ancient, worn-through couch in the lounge, where there’s a faint breeze pushing through the fabric covering a broken window. Crab taps the cover of the book again, drops his head onto Benzedrine’s shoulder and tilts it to look at him expectantly. Benze stares right back, like he always does. The sandstorm’s out of his eyes and now it’s more like that breeze.

Benze starts to read quietly, stilted at first before setting into that natural humming tone. It’s just the introduction, the most human part of the book, the part that talks about promises to be kept, lives to be saved. Crab’s head rests comfortably on the soft slope of Benze’s shoulder and the warmth of him beside him is comfortable, safe. His breathing rasps a little, but the doctor is right here. He’s asleep before Benze gets to the second chapter.

[aeternallis]

.

[alister312]

gotta ask, have you got any thoughts on grenny/kengory? about their dynamic and such, or things you think they’d do :P

I DO INDEED!! 👀

Ever since I saw the Amazon episode where Kenny’s dad brings him to union meeting and it makes Kenny decide to not buy things in solidarity with the strike, it made me wonder if he continues doing that in the future. He and his dad really need something to bond about, so I think Kenny would like tagging along and learning about unions. His Mysterion persona already shows that he’s predisposed to want to help fight for real justice, not just the law.

Gregory, revolutionary at his core that he is, would absolutely LOVE to help organize and support unions with Kenny. I mean, Gregory was already stirring up rebellions during recess as a kid. I would be shocked if he doesn’t continue on that path. They’re both incredibly smart (strategist Gregory and scientist Kenny) and incredibly dedicated to causes, so I think they’d make for quite the power couple. Probably a lot of volunteer and philanthropy work in general.

Two of my favorite fics of all time (The Well and the Lighthouse and Lex Talionis) prominently feature Kenny and Gregory as a duo. They aren’t romantically involved in their fic, but the dynamic they have in both is one I’d love to see explored in a fic pairing them. Despite being a good guy at his core, Gregory can definitely be a bit prickly. He needs someone who will both give him a chance but also know where to draw the line and constructively call him out on his bullshit. Kenny is very much that guy, so once Gregory lets him in, I think they’d work extremely well for one another 🥰

[unluckiestmember]

how abt headcanons for the arcane women on a beach date? :0 feel free to add/remove anyone ^^

Coming right up!

Arcane X Beach Date with Reader!

Characters: Powder/Jinx, Violet "Vi", Caitlyn Kiramman, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Sevika, Ran and Vander

Warning: Some slight suggestive themes and mild cursing. But pretty much SFW.

A/N: Aww, summer is practically over! I hope you guys had fun this summer and stayed safe! Whatever is next in the future, I hope we all have a great time and look forward to the rest of 2024! We only got three more months until Season Two guys, I know we can do it even if it feels so far. So let's hang in there!

Powder/Jinx

“Hey, hurry up and look over here, toots! I’m about to pull off the biggest cannonball!... Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine- Now watch me!”

At the beach, Jinx is absolutely going to do everything under the sun, whether it be legal or illegal! She might not be the best swimmer, but she loves getting in the water, especially jumping in and getting her adrenaline going. And you better expect her to get you involved in a water fight! Just don’t expect her to play fair, girlie has a bunch of mechanisms she can make into weapons for your game and she’s not afraid to use them!

Sand castles are requested and being buried in sand is a must. A date at the beach with the Loose Cannon feels more like a hangout than a lovely day together in the sand, but don’t get it wrong. Jinx loves spending time with you at the beach and will sneak some kisses to your cheek or slam her lips on yours. She’s pretty sure your beach date is probably one of the best days of her life and it’s all thanks to you.

Violet “Vi”

“This is the perfect weather for a nice swim, babe. Hey- Race you to the other side. Last one there is buying ice cream!”

When you invited Violet to a date on the beach, she was more than ready, she was beyond excited! She is a perfect balance between playful and romantic, always flirting with you in regards to your swimsuit and even sneaking some seductive touches along your body. And right when she’s done or is about to kiss you, she’s quick to trick you by running away gleefully waiting for you to catch her or messing with you.

She’s not exactly the best of swimmers, but is willing to learn and get her feet wet just for you. If you both aren’t having fun talking to each other and exploring the beach side by side, then guests of the beach better expect to see a happy couple making out in the sand or getting affectionate. Peering eyes or none, a beach date with Violet is all you could ever ask for and more.

Caitlyn Kiramman

“Ahh, isn’t this absolute bliss, my love-... Did. Did you just splash me? Oh, you’re gonna pay royally for that.”

Caitlyn has been to the beach quite a lot in the summer with her family and always loved spending time on the coast. So when you asked her on a getaway there, she was immediately on board. During your date, she makes sure you are all okay, rubbing sunscreen on you and checking if all your equipment is accounted for. Caitlyn is more on the quieter side, having a picnic in the sand with you or laying in the shade and just catching the breeze.

But do not let this fool you; She can be playful and accept your requests to swim, especially since she’s a pro at it, or just play in general! She’ll always be open to exploring underwater with you or even making some sand castles together! When it’s time to go, Caitlyn almost doesn’t want to leave, but at least she has a sweet memory and new tradition to share with you.

Ekko

“You’re right, we all needed this vacation. Everyone’s happy and you’re happy, so I’m fine. Wanna take a swim with the others?”

Ekko has never been to the beach before. He’s only heard stories from Pilties that passed by the undercity and seen pictures of it, but has never set foot on one, and neither has the Firelights. Whenever he needed a swim or a getaway, he would just find a local lake or river to satisfy him and everyone else’s needs. So you can imagine his surprise when you set up a little vacation for him and his allies on the coast!

The leader of the firelights is beyond happy the entire time you’re by his side and showing off the beach to the firelights, engaging in small games of volleyball or tag with the young ones. Of course it’s still a date for you two, so he’s sure to give you all the love and care you could ask for when the kids or Scar aren’t taking up you two’s time. But even then, it is all in all a fun experience to share, whether alone or with the freedom fighters.

Viktor

“Aye! How is the water so cold? Maybe you should swim on without me… Don’t worry, I’ll keep watch-. H-Hey! Fine, I’ll join you, let’s just take it slow.”

It had been years since Viktor had stepped on a beach before you asked him on a date there. The once feeling of sand in his feet made him raise an eyebrow and the wind touching his skin had him a bit nervous with his body out. From the looks of it, you were sure at first that this would be a hard time to enjoy together…

But after a while and a bit of convincing to let loose with some encouragement, the scientist finally let loose a little and enjoyed all of the beach with you. He may not be able to swim, but walking in the water, holding your hand and feeling the small waves crash into his ankles? Now that was a piece of absolute heaven. And exploring uncharted territories with you to find the most beautiful of caves was beyond delightful. He would have to remind himself to come to the beach with you more often.

Jayce Talis

“What’s up? Are you admiring my muscles?... If you’re looking at them dry, I can’t wait to see how you’ll look at them wet. Now come on in!”

All it took was one date to find out that Jayce practically belonged on the beach with you! There he acted like such an excited child in his trunks running immediately into the water with your hand in his to feel the waves wash over you two. Don’t expect to do much outside of swimming unless you need something from your personal belongings, and even then Jayce will go grab it for you and head straight back in!

He isn’t much of a goofball swimming with you outside of small moments of teasing, but he does get quite handsy and flirtatious, holding your waist and pulling you close to kiss you. Everyone can practically put together that you are his with how affectionate he is around you. And he doesn’t care either because he doesn’t mind putting you on the pedestal where you belong. It’s a chill date, but a nice date regardless.

Mel Medarda

“Mmm, we needed this, sweetheart. A day away from the nagging, pointless fighting and having to meet expectations? It’s absolutely worth it.”

A beach date with Mel has got to be one of the calmest dates you’ll ever have in your life. Mel isn’t much of a swimmer, preferring to just walk down the coast with you. But even then, she spends most of her time sunbathing and simply taking in the ambiance around the both of you in relaxation. For some it may be boring, but for her just being near you and practically doing nothing is heavenly.

Of course she won’t be a prude though. Sometimes she’ll take a minute and collect seashells to take home with her as souvenirs. And if you do want to swim around or really utilize the beach, she will let you and simply watch you having fun lovingly from the sidelines. That is unless you want her to join you, then just ask and she’ll be right by your side enjoying every second with you.

Sevika

“Ran is challenging me to volleyball and I was wondering if you’d want to be my partner?... Thanks babydoll- Hey, Ran! Get ready to get your ass kicked!”

Sevika doesn’t go to the beach unless it’s with a group of friends. Only then with them and you as company is she gonna have the time of her life! Outside of work and in the sand, the muscular woman is a lot more relaxed and a bit playful with everyone, including yourself. She’ll do whatever you’d like as long as it means you both are enjoying yourself.

Want to play a few games? She’s all for it. Want to just kick back and take in the sun and the waves? She’s cool with that too! Nothing is off limits for the Right Hand of Zaun, and I mean nothing. Because if you feel it’s not exactly a date, then Sevika has no problem taking you somewhere a bit more secluded and showing you a great time~. At the end of the day, you’re sure to look back on your time with your girlfriend at the beach fondly and can’t wait for the next one!

Vander

“We should try and make this a tradition. You, me and the kids, come down to the beach every summer. They’d look forward to it every year. And so will I…”

Everytime you and Vander go to the beach, it is usually with the kids as an annual family outing. Yeah, the both of you have to babysit a bit and deal with the mindless teasing of the sumprats when you both get intimate, but you enjoy yourselves regardless. You love when the Hound of the Undercity plays tag with his adopted children, even dragging you in for the ride and getting a good adrenaline kick from it all.

You two always leave the beach excited for the next time around the following year with tired kids needing to be laid down. He makes sure to let you know how grateful he was to spend time with you and everyone else, nuzzling into you and whispering how much he loves you. Though you miss those days, you never broke that tradition, even when the world fell apart. No matter what, you always come back every summer to the beach to keep the memory alive…

If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Could I get a headcanon of TWST Savanaclaw boys being completely jealous of mc's cat that they spoil, but then mc one day refers to them as "Daddy" in relation of the cat ex: "Be good for Daddy now kitty"

Parents | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Who needs a cat when you have Grim! But seriously though while he’s still your friend there's a lot about humans he still has to learn and he adores that you baby him all the time. Being like the self-proclaimed single parent to a cat-monster like Grim is no easy task. So it should be nice to pass off the responsibility every once and awhile to a partner of yours. It’s just a joke….but true comedy is there because there’s some manner of truth and that’s what they’re banking on:

Jack Howl

“Okay behave for Papa Jack! I’ll come pick you up when I’m off work!”

“Nya! He’s not my papa!”

“Yeah yeah. Jack just a reminder that can of tuna is only for after he eats his veggies.”

“No! It’s poison! Poison I tell you! Don’t listen to them.”

“N-no problem (Y/n). I’ll care for him with the best of my abilities.”

“Thanks again Jack!”

He really can’t believe what that does for him

The image of your nuclear family with him 

Married with a mischievous little son

It gives him a future to fight for

A life worthy of chasing off his enemies in your attention+

But in his mind it’s already happening 

You’d trust your mate with your child, naturally 

As your mate its only right he do his best to co-parent

“Come Grim, let’s not disappoint (Y/n).”

Leona Kingscholar

“Grim! Just sleep with your Daddy Leona and I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Nooo! I want to go with you!”

“But I can’t bring you Grimy. Besides I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun with every one else in Savannaclaw.”

“Nyahhh!”

“Oi brat don’t bother them anymore, their going to be late.”

“Noooo!”

“Tch, I’m sure Ruggie wouldn’t mind that tuna for himself.”

“Noooo!”

“Then behave brat. Say goodbye then we’re training.”

He doesn’t like kids

But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like making your kids

Especially if it’s what has you running to him like the protector he is

Just keep calling out for him 

Granted he’s not doing it for free

You’ve got to cuddle up to him more than ever

Sleep with him so much you or Grim won’t go anywhere without it being clear he owns you both

He’s not a fan of kids

But kids with you don’t sound horrible

Ruggie Bucchi

“Hishishishi Grim and I are going to get along just fine.”

“Nyah! Don’t leave me with him (Y/n) why can’t I go with you?!”

“It’s okay, Grimmy! Didn’t you hear you and Daddy Ruggie are going to have a good time. I’ll call a little bit later okay. Thanks again Ruggie, I owe ya!”

“Y-y-yeah!”

The thought of you having making kids with him drives him insane

Logistically it’s a terrible idea

He’s got his family back home, he shouldn’t need to add on to it

But the idea is still so enticing

And the bond that comes from this alone surely makes him number #1 in your heart

It also means his sabotage against his competitors is working

Then he’s practically got the ring on your finger now

[sexlapis]

Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~

Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D

thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.

and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)

cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(

wc: 2k+

you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.

sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.

admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.

sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.

you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.

there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.

toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.

“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.

“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.

“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”

“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.

fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.

but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.

so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.

“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.

“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”

you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.

it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-

you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.

“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”

you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”

and then there is black.

౨ৎ

you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.

“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.

oh, toji’s here.

“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.

“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.

“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”

“oh.”

toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.

“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”

you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.

toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”

the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.

“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.

“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”

you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”

toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.

“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.

you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.

“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”

you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”

“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”

“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.

“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”

you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.

“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”

“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”

“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”

you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.

“yeah, i do.” you agree.

suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.

toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”

you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.

toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”

“i will if there’s food involved.”

“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”

a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3

[corphneux707]

Little Duckling

[Ratio x Child! Reader, Platonic]

Summary: Dr. Ratio takes responsibility of you after an experiment goes awry. Which you, a child, gets isekai’d into the work of Honkai Star Rail. Based on my headcanons here.

To add: This fic is COMPLETELY platonic and gender neutral. Readers age is not specified at all and there is no use of Y/N. New found family type of shit. Not proofread lol.

“Seems like you’re gonna be picked up late, bud.” Your teacher says after putting the call down with your parents. She gently takes your small hands and leads you to the classroom, letting you sit down on the giant rug where all the toys are.

You felt a little sad. Your parents are late again. It's been a long day for you and you want to take a rest now! But looking at your teacher, you didn’t mind spending more time with her. 

Noticing your foul mood getting better, she gives you a toy bear to play with in the meantime. “Here you go. I’ll call someone to watch over you while I go get something. Be good, okay?” You giggle as she ruffles your hair before leaving briefly. Now you’re left alone in the big classroom with a stuffed bear.

“Hello, Mr. Bear” Its stubby paws gesture to a small wave as you puppet it with your hands. A small smile escapes your lips as you play with it more. Your imagination becomes much more creative with imagining scenarios with the bear.

Perhaps you’ll take it in a cool adventure! Or.. or.. maybe somewhere scary where you defeat the evil monster!! Or go solve a mystery with Mr. Bear as a sidekick! How about all of it? Yeah!!!! You pat yourself on the back for being a smart detective in thinking about how you’ll (spend your time) go on an adventure!

Your playtime is cut short when an odd gust of wind blows past you. You look behind and a small crack of whatever is in the air. It pulsates with a soft glow, almost like it's beckoning you to come closer. An ominous feeling creeps up onto your spine and you decide that it isn’t a good thing.

The anomaly suddenly breaks apart in a maelstrom of whirring winds sucking anything nearby. From chairs, tables, toys and everything. The classroom trembles and glass starts to crack.

You act on instinct but struggle to stand up, feeling weaker and weaker. The lights flicker constantly, almost in the same erratic rhythm as your beating heart.Your senses start to dull from the sheer intensity of the situation. Tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes and yet only to be sucked in by whatever it is behind you.

“It’s hard to breathe-'' More of your tears are sucked in. Your steps to the door get lighter and lighter, till you’re practically in the air getting sucked towards the portal. And as quickly as you get sucked in, quickly your consciousness fades.

You wake up groggy with a faint ringing in your ear. Soon that ringing turns into indiscernible voices. That’s when you decide to open your eyes. The first thing you see is the blinding lights above you. You blink it all away and focus more properly in the room that you’re in. Clean white room with many digital images on the screen. The occasional beeping of machines filling the void of silence. 

Your lips feel oddly moist. Looking down, an oxygen mask is placed on you, connected to a machine that makes the rhythmic beeps that you hear. You try to try to remove the mask with your hands but that's when you notice a wire inside connected from your hand. Your unease becomes more palpable and your gaze follows the wire connecting to a bag of fluids hung on a rack.

Your breaths start to accelerate. Where the hell were you? Why are you here? What happened? Where are your parents? Where are your siblings? Where is home? Your heart hammers against your ribcage. Sweat trickling down against your forehead, despite the coolness of the room. Irrationality and fear colliding with each other in a dizzying storm.

The machine beside you beeps louder and louder. Incessantly dulling your head to think properly. Your chest starts to tighten and your sobs are unable to escape from your lips because of the bile forming in your throat. Tears well in your eyes- through your blurry vision you reach out for something. Anything.

Your hand is enveloped by something warm. It pulls you in, surrounding you completely in a dull embrace. You shut your eyes to focus on slowing your heart rate, the dullness becoming calming. Still, the intensity of your panic lingers longer. Your hands tremble, yet hold on to the warmth with an iron fist. Scared of letting it go and possibly losing it forever. 

Your senses start to come back and you hear the muffled voice of someone. With the crash of fatigue washing over you, it becomes a lullaby for you. You follow each faint word with a held breath and exhaling slowly. You settle to lean further into the warmth that envelops you, letting you fall asleep with ease.

By the time you wake up again, the warmth is already gone. Instead being poorly replaced by a blanket on you. The blinding lights back again to bite your eyes. You wince and blink rapidly to adjust yourself more. When you try to rub your eyes, your hands are held firmly by someone else.

You squint your eyes to look at them, a shade of purple is something you noticed first. Then a click of a tongue after. “Turn off half of the lights.” A man says and quickly the strain on your eyes is uplifted.

You finally adjust and you see that what was connected to your hand is now gone. But now you can also see him clearly. ‘Huh, so the purple you saw was actually his hair.’ The first thing that came to mind after noticing his hair was to greet the man in front of you. You open your mouth but your throat tightens. No voice comes out of you, so you opt to close your mouth and nod your head instead since your hands are still held back by him.

The man removes his hands from yours carefully, as if anticipating any form of sudden movement from you. You look at him, an odd pair of reddish-pink eyes looking back at you. The reflection of the light highlights the yellow ring around his pupil, consuming you in a hypnotic gaze.

Perhaps because of the peculiarity of his eyes is the reason why you’re so calm at the moment as he backs away to give you ample space to examine you properly. His gaze still unwavering, although with a hint of softness. There's a deliberate sound of calmness in the air as he asks, “Are you feeling well?”

You nod wordlessly in response, not in the mood to speak. He hums in acknowledgement before turning to the other person near the doorway of the room. You see the other person visibly flinch from his gaze and immediately leaves after excusing themself from the room.

Once alone with you, he takes a much more intentional pace in his actions as he takes out an ID from pocket and hands it to you. He points to it then to himself. “I am Doctor. Veritas Ratio. Your current doctor.” He speaks slowly, enunciating each word to make sure you understand properly.

You repeat his name in his head. Veritas Ratio. It's a very unique name that makes your curiosity spark up. He is, afterall, very peculiar. Different hair color, different eyes, different name? How very peculiar indeed!

Your curiosity must've shown when he speaks, “I will entertain your questions in the future. First-” he pauses before giving you a tablet with a blank form needing your information. “Since you can’t speak yet, you will introduce yourself with this”

You take the tablet with sheer astonishment at its sleek, high-tech design. Ratio guides you in the form. “Surely you are adept in inputting?” His question is answered with the furrow of your brows and the tilting of your head as you try to piece together what he meant. 

A small part of Ratio finds endearment from the face of your frustration. He pushes it down to focus on the matter at hand. He leans closer and taps on a blank line on the form, a keyboard appearing on the tablet. Your mood turns from frustration to one of unexpected clarity.

It works like a normal tablet- just looks more techy, you guess. You type your name slowly with your two index fingers. Each press is paired with a beep that amuses you to no end. You signal him that you finished typing by facing the front of the tablet to him with an expectant gaze. Ratio hums, acknowledging you by taking the tablet and reading your name aloud. 

Now it was his turn to look at you expectantly, as if a silent question if he’d pronounced your name correctly. A surge of delight fills you as you nod excitedly with a big smile. Ratio nods at you back. Although his face is stoic, there's a twinge of amusement from him as he watches your eyes twinkle by simply reading your name aloud. 

“Children are truly simple minded.” Ratio concluded audibly. When he notices your head tilted at him, he dismisses you, explaining that it was nothing. He hands you the tablet back and guides you to the rest of the questions in the form. 

Age. “Little one, how old are you?” Ratio asks with a raised brow. You hold up your fingers to show him how old you were. He points to the number you’re supposed to press. Mentally, he notes down the fact that you can count. He just doesn’t know how far. Perhaps he should teach you personally? Who knows what kind of fallacious education any other teacher would provide? Perhaps even… So on and so forth.

You stare at Ratio who is clearly deep in thought. You don’t know why, but currently your empty stomach doesn’t care when it growls loudly. Your face glows red with mortification before turning away from Ratio quickly. Clearly the hospital bed will be your new grave from all this embarrassment.

Your mind changes immediately though after a large hand is gently placed atop of your head. “I’ll be back with some food.” Ratio says before getting up and quickly leaving. You wait for him patiently, and to be fair, it didn’t really take a long time. As if he’s already anticipated your hunger.

The door opens to reveal Ratio holding a tray of food. He sits down next to you and you can clearly see the.. Uh.. food? Much to Ratio’s dismay, your mind quickly changes again. He observes how you looked so appalled with the food he brought. 

Why does it look like green sludge? Is he trying to feed you poison? When he brings a spoonful of whatever he brought, you turn away with a grumble. But your conscience gnaws at you. You wanna be a good kid like how your teacher said! So you, with an unbroken-probably-slightly-broken will, turn back to Ratio who still holds the spoonful to your lips. You gulp cartoonishly, mentally preparing yourself for the battle of your tastebuds.

Quickly, you take a sip and surprisingly it tastes… nothing! It's soft and easy to swallow but that's about it. Nothing special about the meal. You decide to suck it up and keep eating the small spoonfuls that Ratio gives. When you finally finish the meals, a sigh of relief escapes from you when he offers you a glass of water to wash the ‘taste’ away. 

Nonetheless, the battle of your tastebuds is over! Huzzah! But wait- you are immediately distracted by a small, yellow, glossy pudding. Your eyes light up in excitement at the sight of sweet goodness. The pudding glistens as Ratio scoops a small spoonful and feeds to you. You, of course, take a bite as fast as you can.

You savor the velvety sweetness but comforting taste that completely melts in your mouth. Each spoonful fed, the messier you get, causing Ratio to sigh, “You were eating properly earlier and now here you are with a mess on your face.” You raised your hand to wipe your face but Ratio was quicker to wipe the sides of your mouth with a wet wipe. “Let me. You’ll only make a bigger mess” He grumbles. You giggle, the first time Ratio hears your voice.

“Oh? You even have the gall to laugh at the mess you made? The sugar must’ve gotten to you already. Perhaps no more pudding for you.” 

A horrified gasp escapes your lips and immediately you grab his sleeve and tug on it over and over. You stare at Ratio with big eyes that shimmers with apologies and hope for him not to confiscate the pudding you haven’t finished yet. The more that Ratio stares, the more impossible it felt for him to say no to you. 

Although to you, he looked stoic as he was before but you came at him with some prayers and a dream to eat pudding again. Your silent pleading finally works when Ratio sighs and gives you another spoonful of pudding. “Wasting food is not a good thing after all.” You nod, this time you eat carefully so as to not make a mess, lest you give him a chance to take your pudding away again.

You take a small rest to digest properly while Ratio is out to put the empty trays away. Perhaps it was out of boredom when you yawned. By the time Ratio comes back, you were already asleep. He sighs and comes closer to properly tuck you in the bed. Once finished, he just stares at you and thinks about what he needs to do next when you wake up.

A walk in the hospital's garden, some basic hygiene, and probably a place for you to stay. Yeah, sounds good to him. But first, he’s gotta complain to the resource management about the shitty blankets they have. Ratio stands up, turning the lights off on the way to the door. Leaving you with his coat tucked around you.

A/N: That's it for now folks! This is going to have multiple chapters that'll follow my headcanons so its not over yet :3. Thank you so much for reading! A like or a reblog would be very appreciated.

[aothotties]

Just some headcanons about your local Farmer Reiner. ❤️

Warnings: None, smut in future parts.

჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ

* Farmer!Reiner who took control of his parents ranch when he graduated from highschool.

* Farmer!Reiner who has a pretty black stallion named Onyx.

* Farmer!Reiner who drives a big ass black pickup truck that's his pride and joy.

* Farmer!Reiner makes extra money on the side by selling produce, dairy, eggs, (etc.)

Farmer!Reiner see you for the very first time at the local farmers market.

჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ༉ ༘჻ღཾཿ

Reiner isn't a social butterfly by any means, but when his mother “gently” recommended that he set up a booth at the market, he couldn't exactly tell her no. He won't admit it now, but he’ll always thank his mom for forcing him to socialize.

You catch his eye when you, another woman and a young boy walk into the market. The little boy runs ahead of you both and up to the stand.

Reiner gives the little man a smile and you follow behind him while letting out a huff.

“Junior you know better than to run off like that!” You scold him and he giggles mischievously in return.

“I’m sorry, he didn't break any of the eggs or something did he?” You look around the table with concern and Reiner shakes his head to ease your worries.

“No, not at all. He's so fast I was afraid he was gonna knock me over!” The statement brings another giggle out of the curly haired boy, Reiner squats down to his level and holds a hand out.

You watch as your nephew shakes hands with the older man and you can't help but feel your heart swoon at the sight. Your sister waddles up behind you with more samples than when you last saw her.

“What happened?” She asked with a mouth full of fruit.

You roll your eyes and point to your nephew with the handsome man that you can't stop sneaking glances at.

“Reiner! Him and Ony used to work together at the construction site. We haven't seen him in years.” He looks up and his eyes widen in surprise, your sister greets him with open arms.

You and Junior stand to the side while they both catch up. You take a moment to look around at the items he's selling, you pick up a small carton of eggs and add it to the basket on your arm.

Your thoughts are cut off at the sound of your name coming from the conversation nearby.

“This is my sister YN, she's moving in right next door to Ony and me!”

He holds out a hand for you and you happily return the gesture with a handshake to match.

Reiner feels like a boy in one of those cliche films where the main couple falls in love at first sight, except he's almost positive this isn't a cliche.

When your hands touch he swears that he can feel time slow down. He takes these few seconds to get a proper look at you, making sure not to stare too hard. Can you blame him? Your black dress is hugging your bodys curves perfectly, your afro frames your angelic face like nothing he's ever seen before. And your voice, oh its like listening to birds sing on a sunny day.

The corner of his lips turn upward at the sound of your chuckle, he releases your hand from his grasp when he realizes he's been shaking it much longer than he needs to be.

“Sorry about that, I got a little distracted. Its good to meet you Ms. YN.” You shrug it off and smile fondly, Junior tugs on your dress and points to the eggs in the basket.

“Oh yeah, how much is a half carton of eggs?” You hold them out for him to take and he politely waves it off.

“Its on the house, any friend of Ony is a friend of mine.”

If you weren't feeling any sparks before, you're for damn sure feeling something now.

“That’s so sweet of you, if they're any good i’ll be back for more.” You say in a somewhat playful, but more so teasing tone.

“Trust me sweetheart, I’ll have you back here every week.”

[vickyzangels]

% “..but i kinda hope they catch us, anyway.”

# synopsis ; an anon asked for sfw and nsfw headcanons for tom but i accidentally deleted the ask while trying to fight for my life against tumblr because every time i added a border two other pictures would disappear tumblr i hope you fall down the stairs

# pairing ; tom kaulitz x reader

# word count ; 551

# tags ; nsfw further under “keep reading” (mdni)

a/n ; i’m gonna drop this first but i have a nearly finished smut oneshot literally sitting in docs rn if i get decent enough feedback on this i’ll drop it

sfw

y’all remember that interview where he said he’d “fall in love for only a night but that he’d be down for true love later”? yeah unfortunately that applied to you, too

this can go one of two ways, you work close to the band as staff or you were a fan at one of their concerts that for some reason has to keep coming back and tom took a visual liking to you

what goes down between you two after he first notices you is vague but tom keeps seeing you every time you’re around and you started weaseling your way into his head at every hour of the day

he’d never admit that though (yet), so he’s still gonna keep up his playboy act for a bit but you’re gonna pick up that he’s being closer to you like making small jokes with you and being a little nicer

god it took you so long but he finally let you squeeze through his shell enough to be relatively close friends for a while but this definitely became a “do i wanna know if this feeling flows both ways” situation

yes the feeling did flow both ways, too bad he was still a player and you didn’t wanna ruin anything so you just endlessly flirted with each other

i am 92% sure he came to you first at an afterparty absolutely wasted and told you in german “du bist so unglaublich schön und ich will dich so sehr.” you are so infuriatingly beautiful and i want you so bad.

unfortunately, bill had to translate for you

i’ve been talking a lot so i’ll try to sum up a relationship with him and add miscellaneous points

he makes an effort to act like a boyfriend in your relationship, like he doesn’t openly flirt with other people out of genuine respect for you

first date was something like you two staying over at one of your houses for the night like a sleepover or doing something in the city

he has never forgotten any important day for you. never. and on that topic, he’ll get gifts for those days nearly months in advance

he appreciates a person with aesthetic

i’m lying, tom would fall head over heels in love if you wear something even remotely close to his style

nsfw

tom is a dog, y’all have seen the way he talks about what he wants to do during sex but he’s the most respectful person someone could probably ever ask for, someone who wouldn’t hesitate to pause everything if you told him you felt a little uncomfortable

the type of guy to fake bang you from behind when you bend over to grab something.

he’d spit in your mouth, having you kneel in front of him and holding your jaw open by squeezing it then making you swallow it if you wanted to be touched at all

this almost isn’t a headcanon but he’s a tit guy, regardless of size he’d froth at the mouth just to hold them

there’s not a big dom/sub thing between you two but he’s a switch because i said so

y’all… his favorite position is doggy or prone bone doesn’t matter as long as he gets to pull you by your neck up to him

a/n ; wow. didn’t think i could write something like this but i have a lot more so lmk if i should make a part 2?

© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.

[jkbx-arinadal02]

I am back with more Trolls Band Together content! (I’m not turning my tumblr into a trolls blog I swear—) [also, I ain’t gonna draw the details on Ritz’s jumpsuit, I’ve got a neurodivergent brain that refuses to add that sort of detail (but god forbid I miss a shadow or a lineart detail lmao)]

Is it weird for me to ship a rare pair like Veneer x Kid Ritz? Maybe, maybe not, idk. I’m starved for content tho, that’s a thing.

Anyway, have these lovestruck idiots goofing off and flirting, probably in some empty hallway in Ritz’s studio or something. Oh and this doodle of the off-screen (headcanon) reaction from Ritz to Veneer during the interview:

(Ignore the chairs’ inconsistent perspective)

I love Ritz so much. Did yOU KNOW HIS VA IN SPANISH IS GENDERFLUID??!!! LIKE ME FR OMG HE/THEY NB RITZ HERE WE GOOO—!!!!!!

Ahem. Anyway. Got a few other works on these two. Mostly headcanons. I’ll be releasing them in the following days/weeks. So… yeah. I’m a Ritz stan. And a Veneer stan too. But mostly Ritz.

Have this last doodle, but this time it’s just the pop-star twins:

Ok bye!

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Ok ok last thing, I need to get this out of my system, since I’ve watched to movie a few more times since last post. Have you noticed the amount of *NSYNC references in the movie’s OST?? Like, the last part of Vacay Island’s song is literally the Sailing chorus, and the BroZone’s Back’s beginning is I Want You Back, which sure it’s a The Jackson 5 song but *NSYNC did a cover for it! It’s not just the in-sync/*NSYNC joke John Dory makes at the end of the movie, it’s all over the movie!! I’ve probably missed some other smaller detail, but gosh I love that they made an effort to include more *NSYNC than just a joke and a new song.

Ok I’ll stop myself before I turn this into a longer rant than it already is.

Bye for real this time lol _(:3 」∠)_

[moonsanoverthinker]

Just some of my own TMA headcanons (I’m probably just gonna keep adding to the list on occasion or maybe make another list, who knows) - Edit I made another list which is a little more chaotic I won’t lie

Also I’m interested if people have any of their own that they’d want to add because I love reading other people’s x

There will probably be spoilers in this list but I’ll try to keep it broad :) x

Tim always wears short sleeves regardless of the weather

On the opposite Sasha always got a cardigan, she might not be wearing it but it’s stashed somewhere

Jon probably bit someone as a child

Martin had a folder on his work computer with pictures of cows in it

Sasha used to keep a picture of the four of them in her desk - Not Sasha got rid of it

Distortion Helen uses her hands a lot when she speaks

Elias irons his ties and then organises them by colour (They’re all the same colour but he claims the shades are different)

Martin and Jon used to play card games but Jon stopped once he realised he always knew what Martins cards were

Tim would wear those socks with the days of the week on them but would make a point of wearing the wrong socks on the wrong days just to annoy Jon

Martin likes to collect pin badges

Sasha’s definitely thrown a pen at Tim - She threatens to throw one at Martin but never would

Tim paints his nails on occasion and convinced Martin to do it a couple times, who in turn convinced Jon to do it

Specifically series 1 Jon had Martin for secret Santa and he have him a mug with a cow on it - Jon denied it every time he was asked

Martins the better baker but Jons the better cook -

Jon will tell everyone in the kitchen to get out if he’s cooking

Martin had a nightlight while sleeping at the institute and never told anyone but Jon found it once and replaced the batteries just in case they were close to running out

Distortion Helen seems like the kind of avatar to have a load of bracelets but those ones that make noise when someone moves their arm

Edit: I just wanted to say that I’m genuinely overwhelmed by the response to this because this is first time I’ve made a post like this of my own and people have been very lovely about it all and yeah this just my little soppy thank you for it xx

[sttoru]

𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 !

ෆ sypnosis. you find yourself in a situation where a man is giving you unwanted attention / tries to flirt with you. your lover finds out about this and comes to your rescue; what will he do and how will he react?

ෆ note. uhmmm this draft was rottjng and i finally decided to finish it today oopssss . not entirely proof read !

ෆ tags. kaeya, ayato, cyno x female reader (seperately). fluff. all chara’s are protective / possessive however you want to see it, unwanted flirting / verbal harassment but nothing too bad, you’re ayato’s wife in his part. headcanons + drabbles.

KAEYA ALBERICH.

keeps his emotions in check. if kaeya sees a man openly flirting with you, he’ll definitely fake a smile when approaching the two of you. not his usual, soft smile; more of an empty one.

the type to give (not so) subtle hints to the person flirting with you that you’re taken; like, he will not say anything directly to the other person about their behaviour, however he will keep it lowkey (and maybe passive aggressive).

and best believe he’s trying his best not to cause a scene and fight anyone if they make you uncomfortable by overly flirting with you. any type of discomfort coming from his lover is a green light for him to use his position as the cavalry captain and the power that it comes with.

you awkwardly shift in your seat at the bar counter as a drunk man keeps on talking to you even when you’ve politely told him that you’re not interested.

your boyfriend, kaeya, had stepped out of the bar for just a second to talk to one of his colleagues. that’s when the random man—who introduced himself as bruce—decided to take his chance.

you fiddle with your clothes as you await your lover’s return. kaeya usually asks his brother to take care of you when he’s not around at the tavern, however diluc wasn’t there to prevent this situation from unfolding either.

“you seem to be getting a bit too drunk, lad.”

a familiar voice causes you to turn your body to the right. there he is: kaeya, standing behind you with his hand on bruce’s shoulder. if you looked closely, you’d notice how firm of a grip kaeya had on the drunken man—the fabric of his clothes wrinkled underneath kaeya’s palm.

“h-kaeya—that you, buddy?” bruce laughs wholeheartedly, his words slurring a little, “i gotta say, ya got quite a pretty thing with you!”

a breathy chuckle escaped kaeya’s lips. it wasn’t an amused or humorous chuckle, but rather one that sounded like his patience was running low.

“mhm, that so?” kaeya subtly gestures to the knight that had accompanied him inside the bar.

the young knight understands and nods at his captain. the knight walks towards bruce, holding the drunkard by his arm and forcing him to stand up straight.

“say, bruce,” kaeya starts, sighing softly as he put his hands in his pockets before bending his head down to whisper his next words into the man’s ear; “i may have been a bit too lenient with you. i’ll see you later in my office, yeah?”

kaeya says all of that with a smile as he straightens his back again. you (and probably many of the wrongdoers in mondstadt who were unlucky enough to experience kaeya’s hidden wrath) knew that empty smile all too well. one that you see when you know you’ve messed up.

bruce was too drunk to even realise what was implied as he was escorted out of the tavern by the knight.

kaeya sighs to himself before turning to you with a genuine, worried smile; “i’m extremely sorry, sweetheart. i should’ve stayed with you.”

you smile at your lover and shake your head, “it’s fine, kaeya. thank you for being there for me anyway.”

the cavalry captain frowns at his own ignorance; he should known some creep would hit on you while he was gone. it was a dangerous decision of him to leave you in a bar between all kinds of impolite, loud and drunk men.

“may i hug you?” kaeya adds quietly, eyes searching for yours as if asking for permission. his reason for asking for your consent, is because he thought you’d might be uncomfortable with any type of close proximity after that encounter with bruce.

“of course, babe.” you nod.

kaeya opens his arms as an invitation for you to get into his embrace. you instantly hug him back, laying your head against his chest. his heartbeat was steady and his dainty fingers were immediately caressing your back in a comforting manner.

“if anything like that ever happens again, you call out for me, alright? i’ll make sure to keep you safe. no matter where you might be.”

KAMISATO AYATO.

gets big mad, like.. mad mad, but like on the inside. he’s the head of his clan-of course he has dealt with rude people before- however none of those experiences included you being verbally harassed by a stranger.

ayato will probably not lash out at the man (especially not in front of you); he has his own ways of putting rude people in their place. many being.. torturous. to him it’s justified: whoever messes with his wife, messes with him.

will not show you how much he wishes he could act out of line. although, ayato knows well enough what his limits are. direct violence isn’t going to solve anything, but maybe threats will.

ayato was coming home soon from his business trip which is why you decided to wait on him outside of the kamisato estate. you were dressed up nicely and had proudly prepared him his favourite dishes for the first time in a while. all set to greet your dear husband.

what you didn’t expect to see, was a random adventurer climbing up the stairs near the estate. the man shamelessly looked you up and down before asking you for nearby directions. you didn’t think much about it and gave him the needed information.

thinking your duty there was done, you walked back to the entrance of the estate so you could await your husband’s arrival inside the building. it was getting a bit chilly anyway.

“oh, ma’am! can you at least tell me your name?” the voice echoes behind you. you felt a cold hand brush against yours and it almost made you freeze on spot. you flinched and took your hand away, frowning as you look back at the stranger.

there were maids cleaning around the courtyard and they noticed the scene unfolding in front of their eyes. they instantly sensed your uneasiness and rushed to your rescue—circling the man and telling him that this area is off limits for strangers. this causes a constant back and forth squabble between the man and the servants, who were simply trying to do their job: protecting the young master’s wife when he isn’t near.

“move.”

ayato’s sudden appearance and sharp voice shuts everyone up. his maids and servants immediately stand straight and then move to bow at their master— heads held low out of respect, yet also out of fear for his wrath. you might not have noticed it, but his servants have known him since he was a child and thus can easily spot the (hidden) dangerous aura ayato emitted.

“ah, ayato !” you smile in relief at your husband and give him a small wave. he, however, seemed rather tense as he walked over to you—eyes scanning your body for any signs of discomfort. ayato’s gloved hands immediately cup your face once he is close enough, “are you okay, sweetheart?”

“yes, i am. thank you.” you reply, his hands gently touching your cheeks were a complete opposite to the anger boiling up inside of him. ayato places a soft kiss to your forehead in hopes to calm your nerves, as if to say ‘you’re safe, i’m here now’.

“escort her to her room.” your husband orders the two maids standing next to you and they instantly do as told. before you got taken away from him, ayato flashes you his usual charming smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “i’ll be there with you soon, honey. i’ll just see this man out.”

once you were out of sight, that smile of ayato’s instantly vanished and got replaced by a cold, piercing expression. he turned towards the unknown man who was now cuffed by two guards;

“now then, shall we go talk outside of the estate for a bit? the maids have cleaned the garden rather thoroughly today and i do not wish to let their hard work go to waste by my… well, disciplining.”

CYNO.

appears out of thin air to defend you. you might even start to question if he’s secretly following you everywhere, because cyno does not fail to show up whenever you are in any kind of trouble.

probably also (temporarily) arrests whoever bothers you. he does that instead of literally beating them up to a pulp. it’s easier and avoids further trouble after all. though, cyno doesn’t arrest them without giving them a proper ‘punishment’ of his own.

has no time to beat around the bush— he’s direct when approaching the person who’s bothering you.

you were walking around the marketplace with only one goal in mind: getting the needed ingredients for the dish you wanted to prepare tonight. the streets were crowded, chatter and negotiations filling your ears as you stopped near a fruit and vegetables stall.

“can i get 2 kilograms of zaytun, please?” you ask the vendor, fishing your wallet from your pocket already. you exchanged the bag of food with a couple of mora and bid the owner of the stall farewell.

you were too busy inspecting the contents of the bag and therefore bumped into a tall guy. you excuse yourself, however that didn’t seem enough for the man, “hey, hold on there, pretty thing.”

a sigh escapes your lips as you know where the conversation would go; he’ll most likely ask you for compensation for bumping into him. you turned around to face the stranger again, a fake smile plastered on your face, “what is it, sir?”

the man hums as he studies your looks. he’s trying very hard to be very intimidating by staring down at you—hands in his pockets with a smirk tugging at his lips, “ya know, i think i’m gonna ask for another type of compensation from y… ou..”

you raise an eyebrow once you notice his voice trailing off until he’s completely silent; eyes wide and smirk wiped off his face like he’s seen a ghost. you decide to follow the way the man’s eyes were looking—that place being right behind you.

“cyno?!” you almost jump from surprise yourself the moment you come face to face with your lover whom had appeared from out of nowhere. there was a purple-ish glow surrounding his body, sparks from his electro vision making him seem even more terrifying—not to include the death stare the mahamatra was giving to the stranger.

there were no words coming out of your lover. he was silently glaring at the man who bothered you and his piercing gaze was no joke. cyno was finally about to open his mouth to talk, however the upcoming words were never uttered as the stranger interrupted him;

“i— uhh, i’m sorry.” the dark-haired man sheepishly apologises and takes a few steps back, clearly intimidated. cyno was not going to let him get away so easily. though, firsts things first: your lover had to check up on you.

“the bastard didn’t touch you or anything, right?” cyno asks you, brushing some strands of hair from your face, “if he did, make sure to tell me. i won’t show him any mercy.”

you shake your head and gulp a bit. even when you’ve seen cyno in action so many times before, his presence never fails to impress you. “he didn’t,” you answer quietly, to which cyno nods.

“good.” your lover hums before letting his arm fall to his side again. he gives you a small, reassuring smile and pats your back, “you can go ahead. i’ll see you at home.”

you were not about to argue with cyno when he was in that state and thus continue on with your little stroll.

little did you know that that stranger was in danger.

[elsweetheart]

♡ ellie williams headcanons ♡

• if you drop something and bend over to pick it up, best believe ellie is swooping in behind you to pretend to lightly fuck u from the back 🙄 hands on your hips and sometimes she’ll do some dramatic grunts and fake spanks with sound effects just to get a reaction out of you (usually “ellieeeeeeugghh” when she makes you lose your balance completely …) she then proceeds to chuckle to herself and continue on with her business, of course.

• she stares. like shamelessly. sometimes you’ll just be sitting there, reading your book looking extra pretty or something — and she’ll be sat across from you, leaning back in her seat with that glazed over smirk just watching you until you furrow your brows at her and ask “what?” meekly. she’ll shake her head slowly, but the loved up smile won’t leave her face. “what, can’t look at my girl now?” she’d falsely accuse making you blush.

• will lay beside you after fucking you within an inch of your life and mock your moans. and laugh. it’s not mean spirited at all, she just loves to tease you by nature and honestly the humiliation of it kinda gets you off. you’ll be burying your face into her as she laughs, mimicking your girlish whines. “h-uh, uh, ellie i’m gunna cum!” she imitates. you eventually roll over away from her with an angry pout, which is performative of course — as she’s right up behind you kissing your cheek and squeezing your waist. “you know i’m just playing with you.” she reassures, tickling you lightly until you smile. “i like your pretty noises.” she adds in a lower voice making you flush all over once more.

• has a real temper with anyone who tries it on with you, or is mean to you. if a guy stares at you for too long, or makes a comment under his breath about you — within the next few seconds ellie is up in his face with a “say one more thing about her. one more thing i’ll beat your fuckin’ face in!”

• one time, on a patrol with her you were super energetic and wouldn’t stop talking — and she thought she heard something in the distance. when you didn’t hear her first shush, she was quick to shove a hand over your mouth briefly as she listened out, her other hand cupping the back of your head gently. you stare up at her with big gooey eyes, which she doesn’t even notice — checking your surroundings before letting go, giving you a soft nudge by the waist to signal to keep walking close to her. for some reason, the whole ordeal turned you on and you spent the rest of the evening following her around like a lil lost puppy with cartoon hearts for eyes. she caught on eventually, when you practically had to spell it out for her and she of course delivered, fucking you with a hand over your mouth so she could hear the muffled whimpers and the amplified sound of her strap leaving and entering you.

• she’s able to make you cum crazy fast. like, she knows your body inside out and she doesn’t hold back. everytime the two of you get done, she’s got that ellie smirk plastered on her face, leaning back with a hand behind her head whilst you’re panting and recovering before gazing up at her with big watery eyes. “how’d you— you always make me… you get me there so fast.” you’re a little whiney and lost for words, and she just effortlessly pulls you closer. “what can i say, bout my business.” she jokes with a shrug making you giggle, love struck.

• honestly, she’s pretty soft with you. she doesn’t like to be super impatient or temperamental with you because she doesn’t want you to receive that side of her which she knows she has (rightfully so after all she’s been through, of course.) and it’s not hard to hold back, if she’s ever irritated or mad all it takes is a look at your sweet face and she’ll feel bad for nearly snapping at you. however, this doesn’t mean she won’t gently put you in your place. if you’re mouthing off, she’ll usually just shake her head at you and ignore it but sometimes you’ll get a cheek grab and a “hey, just behave. yeah?” in a soft voice which makes you feel dumb for ever having an attitude to begin with. it takes a lot for her to really blow up at you.

• loves when you wear her jackets. she loves when you wear any of her clothes down to her boxers but she especially loves it when you pop up beside her wrapped in one of her warm jackets. something about the image of you wanting to wear something of hers that’ll keep you warm and comfortable and safe just totally melts her heart !! :((

• tbh i think she occasionally likes to be called daddy during sex idk. i feel like it puts her on a major power trip and let’s her tap more into her masc energy <33333 heart eyes

• she can be a huge baby sometimes. like if you choose to sit next to someone that’s not her you’ll be hearing about it aaaaall day. her face will literally be like

from across the room, and most of the time she’ll just get up and drag you back to the chair she pulled out for you but if not she’s huffing and puffing with her arms crossed. “guess you don’t like hanging out with your poor lonely girlfriend anymore.” and she’s mostly joking… but she’s kinda not.

• always making you laugh with the dumbest jokes. ellie has such toilet humour so sometimes she will literally just say “fart.” out of nowhere as a replacement for “oh shit” or something and it’ll just send you into a giggle fit, which then also makes her chuckle.

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter two

summary: you decided to meet luca, taking him up on his offer to return the favor, and it gives the both of you the opportunity to get to know each other better.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2777

a/n: for an america's indepedence day, have a hot brit and a love story that takes place in denmark lmao. okay so now we're all caught up with what i wrote for the headcanon and boy do i have some surprises in store for you next. thank you so much for all of the reactions to chapter one and the headcanon. this story has weaseled its way into my heart and has taken over my brain. i'm writing it for me but it's nice to hear others are enjoying it too. anyways, let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

chapter one | masterlist | chapter three

“You have to go!” Jesper insists with the kind of conviction of a damn good lawyer. 

“I don’t have to anything,” you reply, making sure to emphasize the word ‘have.’

“No, you have to go,” Mathilde chimes in, a little softer, a little kinder than her brother’s earlier encouragement. 

After your post-shift meeting, everyone had gone home, save for the three of you – the Mikkelson twins cornering you about Luca’s thank-you-card proposition.

“Well, since you both keep harping on it, why don’t you come with me?” you suggest, in an attempt to shift the focus off of you. 

Your eyes scan their faces, trying to get a read on the both of them as Jesper and Mathilde exchange a pointed look, having the kind of non-verbal exchange that only comes from having shared every moment of their lives together.

“What?” you ask, looking back and forth from Mathilde to Jesper again.

“It wasn’t addressed to us,” Mathilde points out with a shrug, a sly look on her face. “It was only addressed to you.”

“Looks like someone has a crush,” Jesper adds with a smirk. 

“He doesn’t have a crush!” you protest without hesitation, your heart seizing for a moment. 

“A talent crush,” Mathilde reasons, knowing that anything more than a talent-crush would talk you out of going entirely. 

“Would it be the worst thing in the world if he did?” Jesper continues, much to both you and Mathilde’s chagrin. “I mean, when was the last time you got-, ow!”

Sharply cut off by an elbow to the rib, Jesper glares at his sister before returning his attention to you. 

“I’m just saying! He’s sexy. He’s a chef at one of the best restaurants in the world. You could do worse for yourself,” Jesper clarifies, earning another glare from his sister. 

He has a point, but you ignore it, because you’re not really sure if you’re ready to go there just yet. You think it over, and after giving it another moment, you open your mouth to speak again. 

“Alright, I’ll go,” you sigh in resignation, earning a few celebratory comments and gasps from the twins. “Are you both happy now?”

And that’s how – after at least an hour of stressing out about what to wear to a place like this – you find yourself standing in front of a closed restaurant on a day where almost everything is closed in Denmark. You’d settled on a pair of wide leg denim pants, a square toed boot appropriate for navigating the Copenhagen cobblestone, and a white and black striped sweater, slightly tucked into the front of your jeans that hangs loosely from your frame. 

Classic. Put-together enough for a two-starred Michelin restaurant on closed day. Certainly not a date kind of outfit.

Luca proves once again to be punctual as ever as he greets you at the front door, right on time. He wears a blue t-shirt that seems to emphasize his already intense blue eyes with a navy-colored apron layered over top of it. 

“You came,” are the first words he says to you, a wide smile spreading across his lips as soon as he sees you.

“Yeah I uh-, thank you. For inviting me,” you stammer, nervously searching for the right words. 

“Thank you for coming. Well, c’mon then!” he encourages, nodding towards the inside as he holds the door open for you. 

“Did you find the place alright?” Luca asks you, as you follow him. 

He leads you into the vaulted basement – the space that makes up the Danish-style, fine dining restaurant that’s been a leader in innovation. You follow Luca through the closed dining room, back into the kitchen, and then into the pastry room as you answer his question, mentioning that it wasn’t too long of a walk and that you found the place just fine.

As soon as you see what he’s been working on, it renders you near-speechless. You can see that he’s been hard at work – on his day off, no less – almost as if he knew you would come. 

“Would you like to have a seat?” he offers, gesturing towards the pastry bench. 

“Uh.. yeah. That’d be great. I-, um… thank you… again, for inviting me,” you answer, watching as he brings a stool over to it, setting up a little space for you. 

“Oh, it’s my pleasure. It’s really the least I can do. Think after this we’re uh… what 5 to 1?” he replies casually, in reference to the fact that he’ll only have fed you once in comparison to the amount of times he’s come to the restaurant. 

You chuckle, returning with a playful, “Well, I don’t think anyone’s keeping score.”

He sends a crooked smile your way, one that you know you’ll be thinking about for the rest of the week, before exchanging a laugh with you. 

“Just think of it as a thank you. For the great meals. For the hospitality,” he continues, as you watch him plate his gelee-focused dish. First the chocolate, then yellow, white, and green. A carefully tweezed wafer on top. 

“This is a shiso gelee with a chocolate mint ganache, finished with a thin slice of marzipan, and a caramel cracker. It’s from our current menu,” Luca introduces, walking you through the dish like you walked him through your crispy rice and trumpet mushroom dish. 

He pushes the plate-that-looks-more-like-a-pedestal towards you for you to try, his eyes meeting yours. Luca studies you carefully as you pick up the fork he’s set out for you, cutting through the gelee for your first bite. He watches as you scoop up a little of the ganache, making sure to get a bit of the cracker as well. 

You’re creating a perfect bite – one with a little bit of everything – just like he’d done with the first dish of yours he had a month or so ago. 

As you raise the fork to your lips, taking your first bite, the vibrant flavors hit your tongue with surprise and brilliance that you weren’t expecting. It’s somehow new, innovative, yet nostalgic all at once. 

“Oh my god,” you say with a sigh of pure bliss. You savor each and every flavor, taking your time with your first bite before continuing with: “It’s almost like-.”

“A minty snickers bar?” he offers up with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

“That’s exactly it!” you cry out with joy. 

He smiles proudly, “Yeah, it’s a nice dish.”

“So how long have you been doing this? Cooking…? Or have you done Pastry the whole time?” you ask, digging into the rest of the gelee. 

“About fourteen years… give or take. Started when I was a kid… just washing dishes… was a bit of a rebel…. The kitchen gave me a place to land,” he shares with an ease and charm that makes you feel like you could tell him all of your secrets. 

“Yeah, no I-, I get that,” you agree, enjoying your second bite of Luca’s shiso dish. 

“Gave my mum a little peace of mind. That’s for sure. Don’t think I was an easy kid to raise,” he continues as you listen. 

“Didn’t start pastry till about three years ago or so. Went mostly the fine dining route… worked my way up to sous position at a really great place, but wasn’t interested in moving up the ranks in that regard. Decided it was time to try something different.”

You nod with respect for his decision for change. 

“Where’d you grow up?” you ask curiously, watching him wipe down the pastry bench with a clean towel as he begins to prepare for a second dish.

“London,” he answers. 

“Oh! I uh, lived there for a few years, actually,” you say, sharing a familiar smile with him. 

“What about you? Where’d you grow up? And how long have you been cooking for?” he asks, shifting the focus of the conversation to you. 

“Boston,” you reply. 

He hums in response, “I’ve never been. What was that like?”

“Boston is great. Good weather, great food, interesting people. ‘S actually where I learned how to cook. My mom’s a single parent so… I spent a lot of time at our neighbor’s house… and their restaurant. They still own this Italian restaurant that’s like… been in the family for a hundred or so years and I practically grew up there,” you explain, sharing parts of yourself – of your story – in return. 

“Oh yeah?” he asks, an amused look on his face. 

“Yeah, we hung out there a lot when we were kids – me and my best friend. Then when I was old enough to work, I marched in one day after school and pitched myself for a job, demanding that I cook and that I’d accept nothing less” you reminisce trying your best to recreate the bold confidence of your fifteen year old self.

Luca chuckles in response, “That’s incredible,”

“I was a rather precocious child,” you add, laughing with a fondness for that previous version of you.

He smiles, “Yeah, I know the feeling well.”

Luca clears his throat, pulling out a clean bowl and beginning to plate something new. He explains that this one is a savory dish, starting with a fermented sourdough cracker as he walks you through the flavor profiles of each component, mentioning that it’s got to be one of his favorites on the menu so far. 

“I’m up for sharing if you are,” you suggest, in response to his last comment. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

You watch as Luca picks up another fork, digging into the dish with you. There’s an intimacy that comes from sharing a meal with someone – eating off the same plate, enjoying the same sensory experience, quite literally breaking bread – that makes Luca feel less and less like a stranger to you with each bite. You still can’t believe that he’s done this for you – that you’re here – and while you’re not sure why, you lean into a softness, allowing yourself to enjoy it while it’s happening. 

“Did you go to culinary school?” you ask him, over your last few shared bites.

“No, what about you?” he replies quickly. 

“No, I actually majored in business,” you answer, earning a hum from him. 

“Huh…” he sounds, with a raise of both eyebrows in surprise. 

“I know…” you groan, with a playful eye roll more so directed at yourself. “My first career was in finance… account management. Then I did the whole investment thing for a while… it was uh… really sexy stuff, I know.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who would’ve been happy doing something like that,” Luca observes, only surprising you a little that he’d be able to pick up on something like that so quickly. 

“Oh no. I wasn’t. I was miserable,” you echo in agreement. You take a breath, and a beat, before explaining. “It was more of… a wish fulfillment thing, I think. For my mom. I mean, it wasn’t my dream, by any means. But having stability was important to me, to my mom…. To my partner at the time.”

“And now?”

You wait a beat before answering. 

“And now… I’m just… figuring it out as I go.”

Your eyes flicker over the ‘every second counts’ sign that hangs on the wall while Luca busses the table once again, sharing that he’s got one more dish he’d like for you to try. You settle into a quiet rhythm as you sit back and allow him to provide an experience unlike any other you’ve had. You watch him carefully as he moves around the kitchen prepping for his last dish, taking in each and every tattoo visible on his arms. 

“Every second counts,” you speak out loud, returning your attention to the sign. 

“Yeah,” he nods, turning his attention to where you’re looking. “It’s uh-, something an old head chef of mine used to say. Really stuck with me.”

You nod in agreement as he pulls out a final dessert plate. 

“‘S actually what brought me to you,” he continues, in reference to the sign. “An old friend of mine called me for a favor. He’s opening a new restaurant and wanted their patissier to come stage here for a bit.” 

Luca begins plating his final dish using a few pastry rings, a clean pair of tweezers, and berries left macerating in a deli container with a laser focus that you’d expect from a pastry chef at a two-starred Michelin restaurant.

“We got into… this whole conversation about inspiration. How to find it. Where to find it. I told him he’s gotta be open… to everything. To things out there. That that’s how you succeed in this industry – how you set yourself apart,” Luca adds, impressing you with his precision of plating while sharing something so personal. 

“It reminded me that… it’s been a while since I’ve opened myself up to… well… anything outside of this place.”

“No, yeah, I totally get it. It’s easy to get lost in it – it being the four walls of your restaurant. Running a restaurant is relentless. One minute you put your head down and the next…” you empathize with him. 

“It’s three weeks later.”

“Yeah.”

“Which leads me to why I asked you here,” Luca segways, as he finishes his final dish. “I ran into a little bit of writers’ block – or rather, chef’s block, if you will – working on our Summer menu.” 

He presents the dish towards you, earning a gasp from you as you take in the stunning creation.

“Knew I needed to get out of here for a beat. Get out of my head. Get some new perspectives.”

“Is this for your new menu?” you ask, your eyes devouring the cake-based dish first. 

“Maybe… just something I’ve been working on – something that’s been floating around in my head a while,” he shrugs, watching you carefully as he tries to search your face for any kind of reaction. 

You dig your fork into the spongey, tea-soaked, circular layered cake, raising it to your lips and immediately finding pure joy as you taste it. 

Yuzu. Earl Grey. The cake is almost like a lady finger – tiramisu-like in the way that it eats – filled with a yuzu curd in between each layer of cake, then finished with what you can only assume is a sort of black sesame dust that he’s sifted over top of the dish. 

“Woah,” is all that comes out of your mouth.

“Yeah?” Luca questions, unable to hide the smile that spreads across his lips. 

“Yeah uh… Why does this feel so familiar? It’s like… you’re reading my mind with this one,” you ask, your eyes wide savor each note. 

“Well, it should. Feel familiar, that is. It’s inspired by you,” Luca explains, treading carefully around the last few words. 

“What do you-?” you begin to ask, before the words leave you. 

You half expect him to tell you he’s joking, and you can’t tell whether or not it’s a blush running across his high cheekbones that you spot, as he turns his attention elsewhere. He begins moving around the kitchen, eager to begin cleaning up after himself to recover from the sheer vulnerability he feels from sharing this with you. 

Was this why he’d invited you here? 

“Luca,” you say, your words stopping him as he turns back to you. 

“What’s up?” he asks, so casually, as if he hadn’t just called you his muse. 

"All of this... you did all of this for me…. Why?" you muster up the courage to ask, the words falling out of your mouth with a weight you don’t expect. 

He takes a beat, afraid of coming on too strong, considering you’ve only just met, yet wanting nothing more than to tell you the truth.

Luca sighs, choosing the latter, before laying it all out on the table.

 "Your food is inspired and I don’t think I’ve had something this inspired in a long time,” he explains before pausing. “Your passion for Italian cuisine… weaving in the bits and pieces of yourself and approaching it from different culinary perspectives? You inspired me.” 

He takes another beat. 

“And as chefs, this is what we do. We feed each other." 

You’re speechless, but you can feel yourself nodding in agreement as you mumble out the most reverent ‘thank you’ that you can muster. You can feel it – that this is the beginning of, well, you're not quite sure what – but whatever it is, you're glad he walked into your restaurant however many weeks ago.

“Luca?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for sharing this with me.”

He nods, one corner of his mouth turning up into a smile. 

“Cheers.”

[she-whatshername]

Tyrrish Men Headcanons I made you vote for

Prompt: travel edition

Garrick:

When we getting to the airport: 3 hours ahead, the man is the son of aide of a duke. He is prompt

And yes, he does have a folder of everyone’s passports and flight information

He 100% owns TSA precheck/global entry

Is he holding your bags: Yes. You won’t touch a thing on your journey.

Will drop you off at check in and then go park through car so you don’t have to walk

Where are you sitting? Okay, I know he’s wealthy but are the aides of dukes aristocrats themselves or just well off people? I’m guessing you’ll do economy premium, maybe first class.

Honestly this man is a social butterfly and will just chat with the gate attendants and you’ll be bumped to first class. And yeah, he’s probably sweet talking with all the flight attendants.

Snacks and drinks: will order for you and be polite about it like “you wanted a whisky, right baby?”

He’d probably be that guy to clap when the plane lands. Idk why I just feel it lolol

Bodhi:

When we getting to the airport: maybe 2 hours before you take off.

Let’s be real, Bodhi is easy going by nature and Xaden forced him to be prompt and on top of things due to the revolution

Bodhi probably snoozes his alarm at least 4 times and takes awhile to actually get out of bed. So showing up to the airport early, meh.

Also let’s be real, you’re flying first class so you literally breeze through security and get to hang out in a lounge before take off

This man takes care of you. Literally everything is booked and you just have to show up.

Is he holding your bags: of course. Not only that, he packed all your stuff in his carry on so you could have more room to pack

Will hold your hand the entire way to the gate, on the flight, he’s got you

Where are you sitting: first class bb. Like the fancy fancy first class. You board the plane first and the attendants are like “welcome Mr. Durran.” lol

Snacks and drinks: duh. Champagne. Fancy snacks. Also he packed your favorite snacks in his bag for you.

He’s also checking in on you often, “comfortable, love? Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when food gets here.”

An Angel this man is

Also if you’re napping he is 100% gushing to the flight crew about you.

Xaden:

Lolol

When we getting to the airport: whenever the fuck you want

You think this man is flying commercial.

Baby

You are in a car rolling up to the runway to a private jet. Crew waiting for your arrival

Is he holding your bag: nope. But neither are you. He’s got staff to take care of that.

You have the whole private jet to yourselves. You can sit wherever.

Snacks and drinks: your favorite drinks, snacks and foods are on board waiting for you. He’s got it all taken care of.

He will also ask the flight crew to take scenic routes to your destination, avoid paths where it could be bumpy, and basically treat you like the royalty you are

NSFW: Mile high club?? Skies the limit, BB.

His plane. His seats. His woman/man/partner

Also I feel like he’d be the guy to just get up and hop in the pilot seat like, “let me fly my girl to our destination”. And the flight crew is like, 👍🏽

If he had to fly commercial I think he’d be a wreck honestly lol. His trust issues would never

The Marked ones would draw straws/fight over who has to sit next to him lolol

Garrick is like “I usually handle him every day, it’s my vacation too. Bodhi, you get him on the way there and Im, you sit next to him when we go back.”

Liam:

I don’t think this man flies. He’s more of a roadtrip type.

Loves the joy of the journey with you, it’s part of the trip

And that suites you just fine

And he will absolutely drive the whole way unless you want to.