#not wild enough to throw off my headcanons. but wild

[oneweirdbookaddict]

Are you still doing fic requests? I've always had this weird headcanon that Four eats four times as much as a normal person (cuz he's four people lol). What if he was too shy to tell the others that he eats the equivalent of half the team's food so he's starving himself? What if he and Wild were buffet buddies? The possibilities are endless! Feel free to go angst or fluff or humour, or to ignore my ask altogether! Love your work~

Hey fun fact this was supposed to be fluff 😂

I’m always doing requests! I love doing them, so if anyone has any I’d be thrilled to write it!

Thank you, lovely anon! I hope you like it!

1695 words, warnings for malnutrition? Kinda? Accidental but not really starving yourself? Eating issues? And one (1) very brief, undescribed mention of vomiting. Let me know if anyone wants me to add something!

~~~~

Four hides it well, in the beginning.

When they’re still fresh in supplies, coming across towns on a regular basis, they’re in the woods where he can sneak off and find some berries or fruit if he’s lucky.

The others catch him snacking, and he shrugs it off as a personal preference to snack during the day instead of having full meals.

And it works.

For a while.

Until they stop coming across towns, they leave the safety of the woods, and they’re running low on supplies.

At first, he tries saving the food Wild makes from breakfast, stretching it and eating on the road until lunch, doing the same with his lunch, and then stretching out dinner until he goes to bed.

But then he’s aching with hunger all day.

So he tries eating the full meal, which… well, helps for a little bit. Then he’s starving again.

Either way, he’s practically starving himself.

He didn’t think the effects would be… this bad.

But he gets lightheaded, dizzy, any time he moves quickly he’s convinced he’s going to either pass out or throw up for a second.

Once, in the middle of the night, he woke up shaking uncontrollably. Blankets did nothing- he was shaking until his muscles ached and he was so nauseous.

Somehow, he’d managed to crawl out of his bedroll, stagger far enough away from camp to throw up his dinner, swear Hyrule to secrecy, and go back to sleep.

The others notice, of course. He must look terrible, he feels terrible, he’s so hungry, all the time, and the lack of proper nutrients to his body makes him exhausted.

They’re convinced he's sick- which… maybe he is. Technically. He’s not… healthy.

Wars always looks at him with an understanding glance when it comes up, never arguing with him.

Just always finds a way to sneak him an apple, or even an orange if they find a tree across the massive plains of Wild’s Hyrule.

So he’s not surprised, that when the awful shakiness comes back again, this time in the evening as they’re getting ready for bed, Wars knows what’s going on.

He’s leaning against a tree, ignoring the rumbling of his stomach, fighting to focus on the book in front of him.

His head keeps drooping, though, eyes falling shut, until he dips too much and jolts right back awake.

“Goddess, Smithy, just go to sleep. You’re clearly exhausted.” Legend jokes softly, sitting next to him.

His stomach growls. Loudly.

He doesn’t feel well.

“Hey, you hungry? Four?” Legend feels his forehead, arm wrapping around him when he groans softly.

Wars glances up at them, standing.

The veteran digs in his bag for a moment before sighing. “I’ve got nothing to eat.

Wars produces an orange from out of nowhere, peeling it and handing him a slice. “You alright? Just hungry?”

He accepts the orange, popping into his mouth with a shrug. “I… just feel… weird.”

Wars nods, handing him another couple slices. “I get that too. Low blood sugar- your body isn’t able to release enough glucose into your bloodstream, causing all sorts of adverse effects.”

He nods, finishing up the orange.

“Sugary foods help. Pretty much any fruit, juices, honey. Oranges are my go to.” The captain smiles gently, handing him a cup of water.

“Thank you.” He says quietly, already feeling a ton better.

Wars nods, patting his shoulder before moving away again. “I’m off to sleep, need anything else?”

He shakes his head, getting another smile.

“Alrighty, if you need anything, you can wake me up. I got another orange or two in my bag, too, if you need.”

“Thank you.” He says again, and gets a salute from his friend, making him smile.

~~~~

He’s a nauseous, shaking mess the entire next day.

He manages a few bites of breakfast, giving up when he feels like puking and gives the rest to Legend.

When the shaking starts right before lunch is served, his heart sinks.

But he hands Wind his lunch with hopefully unnoticed shaking hands, the sailor accepting it without too much questioning.

They continue walking, after their lunch break, and he’s shaking so much he keeps stumbling.

The sun bears down on them, the day warm though there’s a nice breeze.

“Wild?” He manages, drawing unwanted attention to himself. Wars is already making his way toward him. “How long until we reach that stable?”

“If we go fast, we can make it tonight.” The champion says confidently.

“Are you alright?” Time asks, voice ever so steady.

“Just a bit lightheaded. I’m alright. We can keep going.”

Everyone just stares at him.

“Four-”

“I’m alright. I’m fine- not even dizzy. I swear. Wild said we needed to get going, let’s go.”

Though they’re concerned, the thought of a real bed and maybe a warm meal pushes them to accept his request and continue down the road.

“Do you need to eat something?” Wars asks softly, hand reaching out.

He bats it away, stomach growling as if on cue.

He feels his cheeks flush up to his ears, not meeting Wars’ eyes.

“He didn’t eat lunch.” Wind rats him out, frowning at him. He throws the sailor a scowl.

“Why not?” The captain asks immediately,

“He’s been shaking all day, too.” Hyrule points out softly.

“I’m fine. Really. Just-”

“Smithy, I need you to be honest.”

“Hungry. I’m hungry.” He sighs, fidgeting with his hands.

“Well… yeah, you skipped lunch, Four. Why’d you do that?”

“We don’t have enough to feed us all.” He mumbles, not looking at the captain. “I wanted Wind to eat.”

“And breakfast?” Legend asks with a raised eyebrow.

He doesn’t answer that one.

Wars gives him an oddly gentle look, reaching into his bag and sighing slowly. “I’m out of oranges.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“Four, you’re really pale. You sure you’re just lightheaded?”

His feet drag, Legend gently wrapping an arm around him. “Easy, Smithy, you need to sit?”

“No- no, I’m fine-”

“I think your blood sugar is low again, buddy.” Wars says gently, taking his hand.

Feeling his pulse, he realizes.

He frowns up at the captain, pulling his hand back. “I’m fine.” He repeats for what feels like the hundredth time.

He gently pushes away from Legend, stumbling immediately, both the veteran and the captain jumping to steady him, and he sees the twin looks of concern before he hits the ground and passes out.

~~~~

“Four, time to wake up, bud.”

Pain. Throbbing behind his eyes, skull pounding.

“You need to eat something, or the medic is gonna shove a tube up your nose to feed you. That’s going to be very unpleasant, Four.”

“Speaking from personal experience, yes. Very uncomfortable.”

Even with his eyes closed, he can tell it’s bright.

Painfully bright.

“Link, kiddo, we need you to open your eyes.”

A gentle hand in his hair.

He squints in the harsh light, eyes watering immediately.

“Hey… there ya are, you scared us pretty good, kid.”

He blinks, still squinting.

Eyes finally finding the rancher, who looks worried.

“ ‘m’nota kid.” He slurs out, hearing a small laugh.

“Yeah, he’s alright.”

“We’re gonna prop you up, can you drink some water for me? Wild’s making some food, we managed to find a deer to hunt for some stew.”

He obediently sips the cool water, the light slowly turning less painful.

“Small sips.” Wars reminds him gently, taking the cup away for a moment. “Eyes on me? Good.”

The captain eyes him, looking for something that he doesn’t care enough about to find it odd. He’s hungry and he’d like the water back.

“Four. Where are we, do you know?”

He blinks, wondering if this is a trick. “Wild’s world?”

A nod. “Remember what happened?”

“I… erm. Passed out.” He does remember that. Oops.

He tries to reach for the water Wars is still denying him, though the limb feels much too heavy to lift.

“Water?” He asks weakly, getting awarded another drink.

“Four, don’t chug it, you’re gonna make yourself sick.” Wars chastises him softly, taking the water again.

He makes a protesting noise that makes him sound like a child.

“Food’s almost ready, bud, can you wait a minute?”

His eyes flick to Twi, nodding.

Which makes his headache worse, slowly rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“How you feeling, Smithy?”

“Tired.” He mumbles honestly, leaning back against Twi’s chest. “Head hurts.”

“Hungry?” Wars asks gently. “When’s the last time you’ve eaten enough food to be sufficient?”

His eyes flick away despite himself.

“I need… more food to… suffice.”

Wars frowns.

“That’s why I had snacks all the time.” He explains, still looking at his knees. “Then… I ran out. And we got low on… everything, so-”

“You haven’t had enough food to suffice you in weeks?” Wars interrupts, giving him the water back when he reaches for it. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He sighs slowly as the group all glances up at him.

“I didn’t… want to cause problems. We’re all hungry, making sacrifices.”

Wars nods understandingly, patting his knee awkwardly. “I understand.”

“He does.” Time agrees, shooting a glance at the captain with a small smile. “And you’re a hypocrite, Captain. You’ve skipped more meals than he has.”

“That was different!” Wars defends himself. “We were feeding an army, not nine people!”

Time raises an eyebrow.

Wars looks away, ears flushing.

“Ignore him. He’s lying.” The captain mutters, and he manages a shaky laugh.

“He’s not!” Wind calls, making the group laugh.

“Here, this is ready.” Wild says gently, approaching him with a bowl of stew. The look he gives is all too understanding.

“I had to eat a lot more than your average person after I woke up. Guess it was a side effect of not eating for a hundred years.” The champion says, though, pressing a bowl into his hands.

He nods, looking down at the food. “Thanks, Champion.”

“Anytime, Smithy. Now eat- you need it, man.”

“Goddess knows that right- there’s no way you weigh any more than forty five kilograms.” Wars chimes back in with a grin.

He has to smile, rolling his eyes as he takes a bite.

~~~~

Thanks for reading! Any interaction is appreciated :)

[live-laugh-legolas]

Do you have any headcanons on the fellowship and their sleeping habits? Who snores/kicks/drools etc? Blanket hogs, always wakes up on the floor? Is anyone unlucky enough to sleepwalk? I'm guessing poor Sam probably needs like 10 pillows to fall asleep comfortably (he works hard though he deserves it)

You always send in such fun requests! Some of my favorite headcanons I’ve done were ones you sent in <3

The Fellowship’s sleeping habits

Aragorn:

-He sleeps like a log

-Actually more like he’s dead in a coffin

-Always on his back

-Snores softly sometimes but only when he’s fully laying down

-He often sleeps propped up though to avoid this when he is in the wild

-Can’t be drawing too much attention to himself while he’s unprotected

-If he ever is sleeping on his side though he will drool

-Not a morning person by choice

-He can get up when he needs to but when he’s in the comfort of Rivendell or somewhere nice he will sleep in

Legolas:

-I think it’s so funny that elves canonically sleep with their eyes open

-And they can be walking around while doing so

-Very spooky and possibly has caused rumors among men that elves are actually possessed

-A very light sleeper because of this; but won’t wake to little sounds because he knows it’s nothing of importance

-He possibly sharpens arrows or something while “sleeping”

-Once again, very creepy

Gimli:

-He snores

-But it’s not so much loud as it is low and drawn out

-Could be mistaken as growling

-His snores also aren’t always consistent so it leaves you worried he just took his last breath before you hear him again

-Snort/grunts when touched in his sleep

-Pippin and Legolas may have made a game of lightly kicking him or throwing pebbles to see how long it takes to wake him and who can get the loudest snort

-Sometimes he sleeps on his stomach and his face is buried in a pillow and you don’t know how he hasn’t suffocated

Boromir:

-He is not good at sleeping

-And by this I mean he can never fall asleep and when he does it is interrupted

-He is very used to running on just a few hours of sleep

-That’s what coffee is for; which he drinks a concerning amount of

-He runs warm in general so he definitely sweats in his sleep

-He sometimes sleeps naked because of this but he always at least starts the night in pajamas

-Goes to bed late but also always wakes up early

Frodo:

-Can and will sleep anywhere

-Maybe this headcanon comes from the fact that apparently Elijah Wood is like this and would fall asleep if you left him alone for a few minutes

-If it’s his little cat naps he is very peaceful and just curls up

-However when he sleeps in a bed he takes up the whole thing

-Starts curled up but wakes up a starfish with his feet at the top of the bed

-Doesn’t have a consistent sleep schedule

Sam:

-Definitely needs a very plush bed if you don’t want him being a little grumpy and sore in the morning

-The type of person to judge a hotel room by the comfort level of the bed

-He sweats in his sleep but won’t leave his cocoon of blankets

-He does not move in his sleep but he definitely mumbles

-Rarely is it anything understandable

-“mmhmmmsms blueberrys hhmmmgggmmm *smacks lips*”

-Always ends up holding something in his sleep; could be a teddy bear, could be another person, could be a rabbit that just happened to hop over and get unconsciously grabbed

Merry:

-He definitely talks in his sleep

-Can vary between little mumbles to full conversations

-He occasionally sleep walks but never does anything too crazy

-More just creepy if you happen to see it

-In modern day he would sleep shop online

-He doesn’t think to check his charges to his card ever so he just gets packages of random things he doesn’t remember getting

-He always sleeps soundly and wakes refreshed and it’s annoying to everyone else; how rude of him to be so perfect

Pippin:

-Moves a lot in his sleep

-Cannot just roll over; it has to be an aggressive almost wrestling like jump

-Often falls off the bed

-Also doesn’t make his bed ever; if he grabs a fitted sheet that is too small he will just have half the bed covered

-Major blanket thief

-Will kick, slap, and lay on top of you in his sleep

-Drools a lot

Gandalf:

-He has no problem falling asleep but unlike Frodo he doesn’t get a good sleep just anywhere; he needs to be in a bed to get a good nights rest

-Scary to wake up

-Once when I woke my dad up from a nap for dinner he jumped awake and very sternly said “that was VERY rude” ; and to make it worse he listening to a movie and literally Gollum was talking in his ear; so this is where I get the “scary to wake up” from

-Anyway

-Gandalf doesn’t startle awake often but his eyes flash open and he stares into your soul

-Pippin especially is afraid to wake the wizard

-He doesn’t really snore but his nose does the little whistle thing

-Likes to cover his eyes to keep it as dark as possible; his hat, a cloak, or a fancy silk eye mask

[distorted59]

HIII! I have a request if you have time, but after seeing what you did for Larsy Poo I need, - in fact, I am on my hands and knees for head cannons for James Het PLEASE 🧎🏻‍♀️

Thank you 😊 MWAH

Hey lovely!!! sorry it took a whole while, I'm finally back home and school and work are biting my ass. but, here it is!!! hope you enjoy! @buzzbuzzbowie also asked for this, thank you both! <3

Okay, so if we’re talking about 80s James, (like ‘81-’87), he’s definitely submissive asf!! he’s just… just… he was so shy and pretty LIKE SHUT UP SFKFSKSFSKJS. (he still is)

He def has mommy issues. So, he craves validation and care. Especially in the beginning, he’s still young and just into fame, could learn a thing or two. Once he gets older, more masculine, angrier and his voice deeper and deeper. He still has that need, it’s an itch no one can really scratch but you.

He was sexually inexperienced, (due to his family’s religions he had to leave health class and all that stuff). so just IMAGINE teaching young Jamie some things!!!! oml i’m melting!!!!! 

“Am I doing okay?” James pants from in between your thighs. He’s looking up at you through his bangs that are sticking to his sweaty forehead. His blue eyes twinkling with eagerness and lust.

“You’re doing great, baby.” You reassure him as you caress his hair lovingly. 

“Hmm, you taste so good.” He moans into your pussy and continues fucking you with his tongue.

Loves it when there’s a emotional connection, normally he’d fuck the shit out of girls/groupies without thinking twice. But, he loves it when he’s taken care of.

Loves the aftercare as well!! Cuddling or showering together, loves it when you wash his hair!

praising kink, mommy kink????? i dunno. I just know his whimpers and begging would be so pretty <3. 

Would get jealous pretty fast, he wants all of your attention on HIM. 

He’s also pretty protective of you, even as friends. Like, just imagine you and the bar hanging out at a bar, early Metallica days, and some guys are bothering you. This man would be prepared to throw hands. (just like he did for Larz, cuz he has a big mouth).

He has a big nose, so you can sit on it. (no headcanon tho, it’s the truth.)

He would call you all needy from his hotel room. (I see black album!James in my head). And i mean you know he’s fucking groupies, you know he is. but, he’s never satisfied, you got your fucking claws in him.

“Come on, pick up…” James mutters into the phone, he’s horny and desperate, only wanting to hear your voice.

“Hello?” Your tired voice rings through his ear.

“H-hey, sweetheart.” James stammers. “How are you? i miss you. Did I wake you?” he rushes through his words not wanting to be rude, but he is just so horny.

“hm, I’m good, baby.” you yawn. “You did wake me, but that’s okay.” 

He stays silent for a bit, he’s slowly stroking himself. Just your voice is enough to make him crazy. You can hear some hitched breaths through the phone and decide to play with him a little.

“What are you doing, baby?” 

“N-nothing, I’m just tired.” he quickens his pace, knowing what you’re doing.

“Do you miss me?” you ask, your hand wandering to your panties.

“Fuck, yes. Of course, baby.” 

“I miss you too, your voice, your touch…” You sigh. “you inside of me.”

“Oh, baby…” James lets out a strangled moan. “I need to feel you wrapped around me, I can’t take it.” 

James starts stroking his cock faster while you already have started playing with your clit. 

“Every night when I come off stage. I just think of you and I can’t….” James groans. “Can’t take it… need you here.” 

“You wanna know what I'd do?” 

“Yeah…”

“I’d ride you silly, until you’d see stars.” you moan.

“Fuck, so i can look at your pretty tits?” James gets closer to cumming.

“That’s right, darlin’.” 

“Are you playing with yourself too?” He asks, his mind is driving him wild. He is so jealous of your fingers right now. 

“Mhm.” you hum.

“Oh fuck, gonna cum, baby.” 

“Cum with me, babe.”

Both of you would cum all over yourself and say loving words to each other before falling asleep <3.

Now, if we’re talking about current James. holy fucking shit. the dilfiest fucking dilf on this fucking earth. 

His hands!!!! his fingers are super fucking skilled, this man can WORK them. stroking your hair, holding your hand, squeezing your thighs, making you suck his fingers while you look up at him innocently, lightly squeezing your throat with his other hand when you stop looking at him, finger-fucking you ‘till you cry… I can go on.

James and his cigars>>>>>>

Just imagine you sitting on his thigh, needy and desperate. He’s wearing some bootcut jeans that fit him perfectly. You’re in some comfortable pj shorts and slowly rubbing yourself on the material of his jeans. He’s really enjoying the view while smoking his cigar and puffing the smoke in your face. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He places his free hand on your hip, secretly guiding your grinding. 

“Need more…” You whimper. “Please.” 

“Hmm… I don’t think so, baby.” he takes another drag and slowly blows the smoke in your face. “I think you can easily cum like this, can’t you?” 

He grins and holds the cigar close to your mouth, making you take a drag. You slowly inhale while maintaining eye-contact, James groans loudly and grips your hip tighter. You blow the smoke back into his face and try to kiss him. 

He gladly accepts the kiss and you can taste the cigar on his lips. You start grinding faster and moan into his mouth. James keeps guiding you and smirks up at your needy state. 

“Gonna cum all over my jeans, princess?”

He’d spoil you like crazy. You don’t want much, just him. but, he still takes care of you in every single way he can. 

 Feel like he might have a breeding kink, daddy kink and all that. He just wants to fill you all up and claim you. Mark you, show the world and everyone in it you are his. <3

 Imagine car rides with James???? I’d sell my left tit for that. (maybe not). Just a chill ride in one of his muscle cars, or his truck, love me some of that. Some music on low volume, the weather’s nice, the sun's about to set. Yes, just yes. 

Or staying at his house for dinner??? I would fucking love to chill in his backyard and he’s working over at the bbq. I just know this man can cook up a mean steak. 

Damn, now I’m hungry for James AND his cooking. 

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ ICP Agere ໒ ˚⁎

Could you... write a oneshot based off of the Violent J headcanons you wrote...? (Pretty Please...?)

Violent J never thought he’d be spending his afternoon this way. There were no wild shows, no Faygo showers, no Juggalos screaming his name. Instead, the house was quiet, save for the soft rustle of blankets and the occasional giggle from the living room

J looked over from the kitchen, where he was pouring apple juice into a sippy cup. The Reader, his little one, as he lovingly called you, was sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by a sea of crayons and coloring books. You were lost in your own world, coloring outside the lines with reckless abandon. Violent J couldn’t help but smile

He walked over, careful not to step on any of the crayons scattered about. He set the sippy cup down beside you, the bright red cup contrasting against the mess of blues, greens, and purples that adorned the pages of the book. "Thirsty ?" he asked, keeping his voice soft

You looked up, eyes bright and innocent. You nodded, grabbing the cup with both hands and taking a big sip. "Thank you, J..." . you mumbled, a little juice escaping from the corner of your mouth

"No problem, little homie !" J said, grabbing a nearby tissue and gently wiping your chin. "You know I got you"

You smiled, the kind of smile that could light up the darkest corners of J’s heart. This wasn’t the Violent J the world knew, the wicked clown with face paint and wild lyrics. This was Joe, the caregiver, the one who understood that sometimes the toughest people need the softest moments

"You wanna build a fort today ?" J asked, glancing around at the throw pillows and blankets scattered about. Your eyes lit up immediatly. "Yeah !" you cheered, bouncing up to your feet. J chuckled, ruffling your hair. "Alright, let’s do it !" He moved some of the furniture around, creating a space for their masterpiece. Together, they draped blankets over chairs, turning the living room into a cozy hideaway. Violent J even added a few fairy lights for extra magic, anything to make you feel safe and happy in your regressed headspace

They crawled inside the fort together, surrounded by plushies and soft pillows. You nestled up against J, your small frame fitting perfectly against his side. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. "Comfy ?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper

"Yeah.." you replied softly, your head resting on his chest. "You’re the best, dada J.." He kissed the top of your head, feeling the warmth of the moment seep into his bones. "Nah, you’re the best, little one. You’re my number one homie, always"

You two stayed like that for a while, lost in the quiet comfort of the fort. J put on a movie, one of those animated ones that you loved so much, and you watched together in peaceful silence. Every now and then, J would hear your soft giggles, and it made his heart swell. This was his happy place, where the world’s chaos didn’t matter. It didn’t matter who he was on stage or what people thought of him. Here, he was just Joe, a caregiver, a friend, and a protector. And that was more than enough

As the movie ended and you started to drift off, J pulled the blankets up tighter around you. He could hear your gentle breathing, feel the rise and fall of your small chest against his side. He knew that moments like these were precious, fleeting glimpses of innocence and peace. "sweet dreams, little homie..." J whispered, brushing a stray hair from your forehead. You murmured something in their sleep, snuggling closer

J stayed there, guarding your dreams like a silent sentinel. No matter how wild his world got, this was where he found his calm, a blanket fort filled with love, crayons, and the quiet comfort of knowing that, for his little one, he’d always be there.

If you're in the basic criteria , are DSMP fans, vivziep0p fans , h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl blogs, nsfw/k!nk blogs, anti-agere blogs, or anti Christians/Christianity blogs : just dont interact !

[pr0cyon-lotor]

Something reawakened my Alien Stage obsession! Have some modern AU headcanons/brainrot™ :D

(The alien keepers are just their parents or something)

General rambles

Till is a god in the kitchen. Mizi can only bake b/c she has set instructions, but can tweak the recipe if she needs to. Sua can't cook/doesn't know how to. Ivan burned something and isn't allowed in it again. LUKA IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE FUCKING KITCHEN OH MY GOD DON'T LET HIM COOK THEY HAD TO CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT LAST TIME. Hyuna can't cook for shit w/o proper instructions. Her ass cannot improvise in the kitchen.

Sus and Ivan are siblings (twins if you will) and absolutely terrible to each other (like normal siblings). They could be sitting together and suddenly Sua kicks him off the couch and puts her feet up. Or Ivan throw something at the back of her head unprompted. They are literally the most chill people in the group, until they're in each other's arms length. Then, they might as well be wild cats fighting over a piece of fish

Mizi and Till are childhood friends and talk shit together

Till knows how to apply makeup (both on himself and others) b/c Mizi would test out things on him.

Almost everyone is a cat person. Except for Sua, who is neutral, and Mizi, who likes dogs more.

Mizisua rambles

Neither of them are the warm hands to the other's cold hands. They sleep with a lot of blankets and a heater on

Mizi doesn't know how to braid hair. Sua barely knows how to braid hair. They were so used to their parents/servants doing their hair for them that they don't know how to do anything fancy. But Sua did learn how to braid hair for Mizi.

Sua was/is a rich kid. And she's SUPER irresponsible with money when it comes to Mizi. "You want this dress? Sure. Don't look at the price tag, you liked it so you're getting it."

They're both clingy if the other has to leave for an extended period of time.

Mizi likes climbing up places and napping. And Sua got really good at hide and seek.

They don't have separate wardrobes b/c both of them stole each other's clothes so often they lost track what was originally theirs or the other's.

Ivantill rambles

Till is cold constantly. Ivan is a walking heater. My point is they hold hands and cuddle.

Ivan definitely turls a piece of his hair, while kicking his feet and giggling when he's calling Till. At this point Till is unfazed by it

Ivan calls Till "my star" "my universe" or any other space related petname. (l accidentally predicted that in an old post oops) Till refuses to call him any pet name b/c he'd die of embarrassment

They also steal each other's clothes, but they can tell who's is who's b/c they both have very distinct styles

Till fumbled the bag with Mizi so bad he accidentally fell into lvan's arms and I think that's a funny concept

Have we ever considered that Till might be just as cringe with lvan as he is with Mizi once he starts catching feelings. Like it's possible. Till can just be cringe with the people he likes. Probably not as bad with lvan, but even a fraction would make me happy.

Hyuluka rambles

Luka is shockingly needy and clingy. He would prefer to get dragged through the mud than let go of Hyuna. Hyuna finds it endearing and worrying

There's a lot of heels and dresses in their home. None of them are Hyuna's

Luka is the type that NEEDS TO LOOK GOOD AT THE HOSPITAL! What if the doctors thinks he's not hot enough 🥺 Hyuna has to drag him to the hospital b/c he's fixing his eyeliner. And no you can't just put a little bit of blush on, your bone is stabbing through your calf

Hyuna's love language is acts of service and food sharing. Luka's is being a little shit and physical touch

[kxizoku-ou]

CP9 Cat Headcanons

This is... a very silly post. XD After seeing a similar concept on Pixiv (images 10–12 in this log) and critiquing the breed choices it used, I wound up writing my own take on it.

These are written with actual cats in mind (not my usual Hybrid Au), and the breed choices are just for fun— as in, largely chosen based on looks/vibes, not anything too serious. I was definitely channeling that early 2000s "characters are cats for some reason now" mini-genre, so these are pure fluff/comedy, for once... >3>

. . .

Lucci

(Bengal)

Serial toy murderer. Violently destroys any and every toy you give him within a matter of hours, days at MOST. 

Some of the things he’s done to his toys probably qualify as war crimes tbh. Likes to drown the catnip mice in his water dish. Also enjoys tearing things into ragged chunks/”gutting” the stuffing. 

Sometimes you wake up to him on your chest with a present. 

(A chunk of mutilated cat toy. He drops it onto your face.)

The most athletic cat you’ll ever know. There is no surface in your house he can’t reach SOMEHOW. Also can and will learn how to open doors, drawers, etc, and will use this unfortunate skill to get into everything if he’s bored. 

Affectionate, but only on his terms. You don’t decide when you’re allowed to pet him; when the mood strikes, he’ll interrupt whatever you’re doing and forcefully put his body in your lap. 

You’re not allowed to move until he decides you’re done. :) 

Has a surprisingly cute kneading habit. He’ll go Baby Mode and make biscuits for hours. Sucks on certain blankets too.

Kaku

(Devon Rex)

ZOOMIES TO THE MAX.

Seemingly never sits still. Will run from one end of your house to the other at all hours of the day. At night, you’re regularly woken up by the distinct rapid thumping of galloping kitty paws.

Likes high places and unexpected perching spots. This includes your shoulder— and he can make the jump on his own! 

Playful, but not prone to destroying his toys. Prefers batting hard objects down a flight of stairs to tearing the plush ones open.

Too brave (and curious) for his own good. Lacks any sense of danger when it comes to investigating something that’s caught his interest. 

This includes slipping through the front door.

Not super cuddly, but likes being near you/keeping an eye on what you’re doing. 

Has a squeaky “old man” meow. WEH!

Jabra

(Egyptian Mau)

Wild, playful, curious, and so very destructive. If he’s not kept entertained, your property will suffer for it. 

Requires FREQUENT play and attention, but fortunately, he’s not too hard to please. Throwing a squishy ball for “fetch” can keep him occupied for hours. 

The asshole cat who will make direct eye contact with you before (very deliberately) knocking something off a shelf, then sit there smugly while you try to scold him. 

Very talkative! When he wants your attention, he YELLS, and seeing wildlife outside always brings out that excited, bloodthirsty chitter. 

Taking him to the vet is an ordeal, for everyone involved...

Doesn’t mind being pet and handled. Pesters you for affection regularly, but gets bitey when he’s had enough. :/ 

Highly territorial. Will not tolerate other cats/animals near him.

Kalifa

(Turkish Angora)

Truly the embodiment of the “disdainful gorgeous fancy cat” trope. 

Her fur is incredible, due largely in part to near-constant grooming. Do NOT interrupt her washing. 

She’ll wash your fingers too if she’s feeling affectionate. Mlem mlem mlemmmm...

Likes to be involved in what you’re doing. The kind of cat to walk across your keyboard or loaf-sit on top of stray paperwork, seemingly oblivious to how badly she’s getting in the way. 

At least your “adorable secretary” makes for good moral support!

Not overly playful, but she can be a DEADLY hunter when the mood strikes— fast, agile, and with amazing reflexes no matter what kind of toy you put in front of her. 

Weirdly fickle about when you’re allowed to touch her. Will glare, hiss, and swat at fingers if you test those boundaries.

Blueno

(Norwegian Forest Cat)

The most quiet, low-maintenance, independent cat imaginable. You nearly forget he exists, sometimes.

Not much of a meower, but has a deep, calming, rumbly purr. 

Content to curl up on a chair or in a corner and let you go about your day! He’ll alternate between napping and silently staring in your general direction; the eye contact is a sign of affection. <3

Won’t seek out attention on his own, but also won’t fight it if you pick him up and carry him around like a plushie. 

...he stays limp and docile no matter what you do to him, actually.

Needs regular brushing, or his fur starts to matt. It’s pretty much the only “extra attention” he’ll require, though, and he’s (fortunately) cooperative about it. 

Learned how to open doors at some point. You don’t know how he managed that.

Fukurou

(Persian)

R O U N D (and it’s not just fluff)

Despite being shaped like a furry bowling ball, he’s quite playful, and way more agile/fast-moving than you’d expect. 

...that energy is much less cute when his full weight lands on your abdomen in the middle of the night, however.

VERY affectionate. Will take any opportunity to lay his chin on your palm, headbutt your shoulder/wrists, put his paws on your chest so he can try to lovingly lick your face, etc— purring all the while! 

Chatty cat!! Chirps and squeaks at you non-stop; if you “respond” to him, it turns into a back-and-forth conversation with his mrrep-ing. 

Fond of high places, like bookshelves and tall dressers. 

It’s unclear how such a heavy cat manages to get up onto them, but he usually ends up yowling for help when he can’t get back down.

Kumadori

(British Longhair)

A huge, massively fluffy mini-lion of a cat, with that “polite little gentleman” face common in his breed. 

Sheds. Sheds SO MUCH. All of your clothes are covered in his fur, no matter how hard you try to keep him thoroughly brushed. 

You cannot escape the fluff. 

YOWLS. The loudest, most determined drama queen when he wants something. Acts like he’s dying if his food bowl is empty for more than half an hour, non-stop howling included. 

Extremely cuddly; wants as much attention from you as you’ll give, and will flop his entire body into your lap to get it. 

Fond of jingly toys! The louder and more annoying the bell, the better. 

If you ever have to give him medicine (be it a pill or liquid), he’s utterly betrayed. Gives you the huge, sad, miserable scared-kitty eyes for the rest of the evening, and won’t let you touch him. 

(He’s over it by morning, and back to purring in your arms. Baby.)

Spandam

(Siamese)

The ugliest purebred imaginable, and his personality isn’t better. <3

Health issues. Skin/coat problems, numerous food sensitivities, arthritis, frequent UTIs, and a crooked tail from a past injury.

King of separation anxiety. If he can’t find you, he’s HOWLING, then finding a corner to cower in until his protector is back.

Truly the embodiment of the phrase “scardey cat”. Terrified of everything from the vacuum to rustling plastic bags. Huddles under the couch, trembling pathetically, after every little scare. 

...it is kind of cute when he runs to you to “save” him, however. 

This clumsy dumbass WILL get himself hurt (in incredibly stupid ways) if you don’t keep an eye on him. Utterly oblivious to real danger.

His distressed yowling is awful, and the attention-demanding yells aren’t much better. The classic So So Whiney Baby Siamese! 

NEEDS to be the only cat in the household— he’s violently territorial, but guaranteed to end up the other cat’s punching bag once he’s pissed them off enough. 

[neverchecking]

hello! would it be possible to request yandere sage to a reader who got split from the chain but has a switch with them?

I adore your headcanons for him and I honestly would just love to see some more of him, perhaps he's trying to figure out if they're yiga or not since y'know only they see him as link without zelda and they just show it off reluctantly?

SAGE SAGE SAGE SAGE SAGE SAGE-YOU ABSOLUTELY FUCKING CAN.

Ahem. Yes, you very much can request my precious baby boy.

For those of you who don't know, Sage is the Hero of the Zonai, A.K.A. The Link from Tears of the Kingdom-- if we go down the route that he's a different guy from Wild. So TotK spoilers.

Anyway, look whose got his own banner! SAGE DOES-

CW: Talk of death, but nothing happens (Bc Sage won't let it happen)

He was very...unsure of you, to put it lightly.

Which was rare in and of itself since he knew most things. He knew how the Gloom hands would react should he hit them with a Dazzlefruit. He knew the exact force he would have to throw a splash fruit for it to burst in a splash of water. He knew the exact amount of force required to bend a Yiga's arm before it snaps a lot.

But he didn't know anything about you. Which put him on edge.

You came out of this weird...void thingy that he had never seen before and you dressed weirdly. You had began to call out desperately for names the second you had collected yourself (He had no clue who Wild or Twilight or Wind were, but whoever named those poor fools needed to be fired. Those names were awful.) . He watched you stumble like a newborn fawn, full of naive innocence and blind trust in the world around you.

What a fool you were.

Still, he couldn't look away. He didn't move from his place perched in a particularly tall tree, but he didn't let his attention wander from you. He couldn't. It was like you were...magnetic, drawing him in to your orbit just to keep him there.

Somewhere above him, the light dragon let out a warble. His ears flickered in that general direction, but otherwise he paid it no mind, clicking the claws on Rauru's hand against the bark of the tree.

You seemed so hopelessly lost, wandering about. It certainly didn't seem like you were the traveling type, so why you were out here, he had no idea. You would killed before long. He wondered how you would die. Something fast and quick? An electric arrow from a Lizalfos? (They had been getting unexplainably stronger now that he thought about it.) Maybe one swift hit from a Horriblin? Or maybe it would be something long and drawn out. Maybe a Frost Gleeok would freeze you so badly Hypothermia took over your limbs before freezing your lungs. Or maybe a Fire Gleeok would roast you alive before you even had the chance to register they were there. Perhaps the King himself would do both before shocking your battered form to hell and back. Or maybe the Gloom hands would grab at your flailing arms and legs, holding you still while they drained the life force right out of you.

Something full of anger lit up in his gut at just the thought of you getting hurt. He had no reason to get so livid at even a scratch on your form, but for some reason it had him snarling to himself, as if daring the universe to test him.

He wouldn't put it past Hylia at this point, that vengeful bitch.

It seemed she took his challenge to heart anyway, just as you slipped out some strange device about the same size as his Purah pad. You were so immersed in the damned thing that you didn't even hear one of the trees moving around behind you. Which was beyond him since they weren't quiet.

You didn't even look up until the shadow was looming over you and he was jumping from his tree. Riju's power sparked to life as he pulled out his bow, stunning the tree with enough power it fell with a pull of purple smoke. Something began leaking out of the discarded log, black and viscous, as it always seemed to do these days. It didn't make any difference to him, they all died the same anyway.

You had fallen onto your ass as he approached, watching him like prey would watch the predator. Nothing but wide eyes leaking with fear as he loped upon you. It made his gut swing with something foreign as he eyed you. He wasn't stupid. He knew the Yiga would go to some, frankly, extraordinary lengths to have his head on a stick. Whose to say they wouldn't set up some form of act where they attacked each other just to garner his attention?

He held out his weapon towards you, the Lynel horn glinting in the light as it prodded against your neck. You vulnerable and fragile little neck. You looked like you were about to cry at the action.

Unrelated, he pulled back just a bit. His snarl remained just the same. "Who are you?" He barked, daring you to avoid his question. Your...device was discarded at your side, which you quickly grappled onto as some form of protection. He'd have to remain weary of that. If it was anything like his Purah pad, it would be of an annoyance. Especially if you were a Yiga. They were able to replicate the Thunder Helm for Din's sake. (That was a mess and a half to retrieve.)

You swallowed hard, wincing away from him before fighting the urge to look up at him. His heart stuttered at the positively broken look you showed. You were so scared and so frightened.

He was supposed to be a hero.

(A part of him argued that he was the hero. Had been the hero. And look where it got him? Right back at the start. Fighting for his life once more. Fighting for someone who wouldn't do the same for him. Fighting for a Goddess who only used him as a pawn only to discard him when he was done.)

There was no way you were Yiga. You couldn't have been. None of them would've ever looked up at him like that. Nor could you have been a puppet of Ganon. Puppets and Yiga would burst out into an offensive attack the second they caught sight of him.

You didn't pose a threat.

But that didn't clear your name. "I asked you a question. I expect an answer." He allowed ultrahand to light up Rauru's arm in a warning red.

You blinked before shakily swallowing, holding your device to your chest. "...Y/N."

So that was your name. It was a nice name. Suited your features well and rolled off the tongue. Each syllable seemed built for your very being. He repeated it, using the tip of his weapon to tilt your chin up to face him again. That same, Goddess damned, look was sprawled on your features as he looked over you. You didn't seem injured outside of a bandaged wrap around your lower neck and left shoulder.

You had been hurt. Perhaps it was under that Wild's watch, whoever they were. They were unfit to care for you it seemed. He would happily take over if it meant you didn't get hurt any longer.

"You're...Link, right?"

He blinked, weapon staggering for a second. How did you know who he was? No one knew who he was anymore. Not without that wretched Zelda beside him, giving him a title he felt disgraced his very being. The swordsman. it was all Mineru called him and it burned something bitter in him.

He pushed the weapon further against your skin, watching it turn a harsh red before flashing to white. "What's it to you?" His teeth were bared as you tried to pull away, if only to breath just a little. He didn't let you. While it made his gut rot and knot at the thought of hurting you, he couldn't risk his own life. Not when he had a duty, Not when he had a vengeance. A vendetta.

"I can explain!" You hurriedly called, making him pull back once again.

"I would do so quickly."

You shook in your spot as your showed him the device. It seemed to have a selection of boxes, each holding a different picture. The one you hovered over read something in a language he couldn't read, but there was a picture of him. Right there. This was your explanation? It was pitiful. He almost did away with you, if only to move on, but you spoke before he could.

"You're Link. The wielder of the Master Sword. I- I'm from some other world. I, along with a group of others, are travelling to fight a dark magic that has been effecting many Hyrules across time. It's evidently effected yours." You gestured to the log, which now had an inky puddle beneath it. "We're here to help."

He pulled the weapon away, but didn't raise his glare from your form. "I don't need help."

"I never said you did." You let out a sigh full of relief. "But sometimes having someone watch your back is nice. I know you haven't had that person for you, which breaks my heart. This adventure is your second, third if we count...Ya'know..." You trailed off as his eyes narrowed. Were you talking about the Calamity? The Calamity he fell to? "You haven't had help, which I can only imagine as exhausting."

You were speaking nonsense. Nonsense that made him bubble with understanding of a sort. It was a clumsy attempt, but you were trying to offer support to him. Support he had never had previously.

He could kick his past (Three minutes ago) self for ever dreaming of hurting you, even if it was for his own personal safety. The thought of having someone offer just a tad bit of help to his battered and broken from, riddled with gloom, had him feeling a bit lighter.

He wouldn't trust you right away, he had gotten burned one too many times from doing that, but he would get you to a stable. Ensure you were safe from infection and whatever else before he made a decision regarding you and him in any sort of capacity.

Maybe take you to your group if only to see if those filth were worthy of your presence.

He would ensure you were safe in his, nevertheless. If he had to do away with the others, then so be it.

If he wanted to keep something, he would need to cling to it.

And this was just the start of his grip on you. Whether you knew it yet, or not.

[starrayblogs]

Hey hey, first off, very excited to see someone writing for Aphmau characters!! It’s been a while since I watched my street but I will never forget how upset I was when Laurence disappeared (Goodnight sweet Prince)

As for fanfic request stuff, could you do a friends to lovers with a reader who’s super confident in everything except love? Like, knows they’re cool and look good but they’ve never really been confessed to, just something real fluffy. Not necessarily shy just not willing to risk confessing even if they know the other person feels the same (preferably fem reader)

For the character(s), if you take requests for multiple people then Cole Ninjago and Laurence MyStreet (separate) and if not then just Laurence will do :))

Any format works too, headcanons, one shot, go wild

thanks so much for the ask! this is such an interesting scenario and i had a loooooong time writing this ehe TuT

however, since the characters you requested are from different fandoms- i think i'll write the other pairing on a different post (hope u understand TmT) . also i'm soooo sorry in advance if laurence is ooc, i haven't really thought about him in a while...

anyway, likes and reblogs are appreciated! i hope you enjoy ✩

pairing: mystreet laurance x fem!reader

will include: fluff, friends to lovers

"You know what's the craziest part in all this?" Katelyn points out, drawing a circle with her index toward you.

"What?" You raise a brow, placing your hands on top of each other on your crossed leg.

"That I still don't get how you haven't confessed to Laurence." She answers quickly, and you react by immediately uncrossing your legs and throwing your hands in the air.

"It's not that easy!" You exclaim.

"How? You're the most confident person ever!" Aphmau points out from her side of the couch. "Second to Laurence, of course." She adds, which receives a collective 'yeah's and 'that's true's from the other girls.

You sigh as you slump in your chair.

It's another girls night, which means another night for updates on your crush on your close friend, Laurence. Only the girls, who are Aphmau, Katelyn, Kawaii~Chan, and Lucinda, know your crush on him.

"Seriously, you're so confident when it comes to other guys. I never thought I'd see Travis of all guys stutter when you flirted with him for a dare." Lucinda chuckles from the other end of Aphmau's couch, swirling her glass of juice.

"Because, Laurence is different..." You pause for a second before sighing again and combing a hand through your hair. "I've never felt this type of connection with anyone else, and I'm scared that if I do confess, it'll ruin the friendship I have with him." You frown as you intertwine your hands together. "I don't wanna lose him if it ends out like that."

"What happened to "don't be afraid to try new things" because you said being confident is all about being secure with yourself enough that new things don't scare you as much?" Katelyn asks, bending at the waist and propping her elbows on her thighs.

"I agree! You always say that and that's how you helped Kawaii~Chan start her maid cafe!" Kawaii~Chan smiles at you. You spare a smile before looking down to your fiddling hands again.

"Love is an entirely different department of confidence. My past relationships didn't end well, and," You bite your lip for a second, "I'm scared." Your eyes glance up to look around the room, which was filled with surprised faces from your girl friends. "I'm scared that if Laurence and I do become a... thing, that the universe is going to wreck it somehow and he'll cut me out of his life." You confess.

Aphmau gets up from her seat and ushers Lucinda to scooch to the other side before taking her seat. She places her hands on top of yours and your head moves up to meet her eyes. Her lips curl into a smile as her hand squeezes yours, giving your reassurance not only with her gaze.

"You're not going to lose him. I know Laurence is a relatively silly guy, but when it's something serious, he doesn't play around." She says softly. "He's a mature guy when he needs to be, and I can never imagine him actually hurting any woman's feelings on purpose." She adds with a light chuckle before exhaling deeply. "Otherwise, if he did, I'd have his head by now."

You comically blink at her last sentence before breaking into a laugh. The weight of the situation gets lighter, even for just this moment, and you give Aphmau a smile. "Thanks, Aph." You nod in her direction. "Thanks for being so supportive about this, girls." You turn to the other three in the living room.

"Of course, no problem!" "No biggie." "Kawaii~Chan can't wait for her ship to sail!"

Everyone turns to Kawaii~Chan with concerned looks, which she replies with a shrug. "What? Kawaii~Chan thinks they're end game!" She exclaims nonchalantly. Your cheeks flush as you try to change the topic for the night.

It was pouring down heavily today. You were outside early before the sun came up for a quick jog around the town, as you usually did. However, on your way back, you felt droplets of rain fall down on you and dismissed it for a light shower.

Now, you're stuck under a random bus stop. Turns out, you were jogging on a completely different street on the way back home. You guess you absentmindedly took one wrong turn on the way back, too busy listening to your music.

You were pretty soaked in your attire and you were started to get cold. Your phone dinged in your pocket and you brought it out, curling your hand across the top of the screen to stop the rain from straying onto your phone.

It was Laurence. He texted asking you how you were against the rain, and followed it with a picture of a flooded basement. He said his room got flooded and you snickered, typing a reply back on how only he would get stuck in a situation like that.

He replies with a few laughing emojis and you think for a while before opening your camera, taking a selfie of yourself. Your hair was wet and clinging to your skin, your clothes were also wet (even your socks), and you were pretty sure you would get sick after this.

You sent the selfie to Laurence, telling him how you're stuck outside in the rain while you were in the middle of jogging back home. He didn't reply after that and you thought it up to how he had his own problems to handle, which was his flooded basement.

You hugged yourself as you sat inside the bus stop, hoping the rain would stop. You didn't want to risk jogging back home either because you were on a street you didn't know and you were pretty sure you'd get even more lost in such weather.

You don't know how long you waited but it felt like hours.

Then, you heard your name in the distance. You turned to the direction of the voice and saw a figure far away. You squinted your eyes to get a good look on who it was, and you gasped.

It was Laurence. Running in your direction and holding up an umbrella above his head.

You can't explain how relieved you were to see him. You watched as he ran up to you and as he panted for a few minutes to catch his breath. You hoped he thought that your red cheeks were some indication of a starting fever, instead of you blushing because he was here.

"Laurence?" You whisper his name and he inhales deeply, pushing himself up from his knees.

"Are you okay!?" He exclaims, stepping closer inside the bus stop to you. "Oh my Irene, I'm so glad I found you. Come on, let's get you home." He offers his hand out and you slowly reach out for it.

Once your hand was in his, he gripped you tightly and pulled you under the umbrella. "How'd you find me?" You ask softly as you begin to follow Laurence's lead.

"Your selfie showed the bus stop map. I just had to zoom in to see which one you were at, and I came running to find you." Laurence says, like it was no big deal. Yet, you could hear your heart beating loudly in your ears as your cheeks grow redder.

"... Thank you, Laurence." You say softly, smiling towards him. He glances his eyes to you, and he smiles back.

"Don't mention it." He replies, and you almost just notice how he squeezes your hand just a bit tighter.

Laurence led you back to your house in gentleman-like fashion. You were screaming in your head the whole time the way back, but deep down you were happy. Extremely happy.

On the way home, Laurence explained that Zane somehow managed to drain the water from the basement and that's when he immediately left the house to get you.

You felt so cared for. On the way home, you would look down and stare at your intertwined hands. You couldn't believe someone would go out in the windy, strong rain just to fetch you and bring you home- and you couldn't believe it more when you remember it's Laurence who did that.

... You're almost brought to tears when you remind yourself that he's doing all of this as your friend as you come down the stairs.

When you don't notice Laurence in the living room, those thoughts are immediately reinforced. Of course, he did his job in bringing you back to your house, so what other reason would he have to stay?

"You done showering? I made some chicken soup!" A familiar voice yells from the kitchen. You hurriedly make your way there in disbelief, to see Laurence about to carry two hot bowls of soup.

"Laurence," you pause, "you're still here." You sound like you're out of breath.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Laurence comes up to you with a sided smile, nodding his head to your dining table to indicate to take a seat. "Someone's gotta take care of you once you inevitably get a fever after being out in the rain for so long." He subtle scolds you and you pout.

"I thought I could wait it out..." You murmur, taking your seat.

"Yeah, for a day, sure." He sets your bowl down in front of you before taking a seat next to you, while pressing the back of his palm on your forehead.

You quickly pull away to look down to your bowl and immediately pick up the spoon. So, you could hide your blush (obviously). "I don't have a fever, Laurence." You tell him, taking a scoop of the soup and bringing it to your lips.

Only, of course, to burn your tongue and slam the spoon back down on the table. "Hey, hey, slow down!" Laurence gets up from his seat to quickly pour you some water. "Are you okay?" He asks while you basically chug the water.

You nod your head while drinking before setting the glass down. "Uh, thank you... again." You avert your eyes nervously.

"Are you sure you don't have a fever?" He raises a brow as he returns to his chair.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'm sure." You slide a hand behind your neck out of habit.

Laurence's eyes furrow and he leans in towards you. "You're lying."

"What?"

"You're lying?"

"No, I'm not." You chuckle.

"Yes, you are. You put your hand behind your neck when you lie." He states, like a matter of fact.

You blink at him with awe and disbelief. He notices the small stuff about you too.

Your mind passes to the thoughts of your feelings towards the brunette. The fact he ran in the middle of practically a storm today just to get you, the fact he remembered your small habits, and the fact that he's here. He's here and he's taking care of you.

It makes you feel warmer than the soup he made. He's always made you feel like. It's like a cozy fireplace whenever you're next to him, like you're rocking on a chair with a knitted wool blanket while holding your favorite drink.

You're at the height of your emotions and it overtakes your rationality. You inhale and blurt,

"Laurence, I like you." He blinks at your words. You clear your throat and look down, intertwining your hands to keep them busy. "I've liked you for a while, actually. A few months after we met, I developed feelings for you. I... I never told you because I was scared of losing you." You close your eyes when you feel the tears begin to well in your eyes. "I know how dumb it sounds especially because of how confident I am, but when it comes to you, I am so scared because the bond we have is so special to me a-"

You were cut off by a kiss. You open your tear-filled eyes and see Laurence's face. His eyes are squeezed shut and his cheeks were slightly tinted if you paid enough attention, and you did. He pulls away.

Apparently, he had lifted your head with his hands on your cheek and pulled you in for a cheek. "I..." He smiles as his thumb wipes the tears away from your cheek. "I like you too. For a while, now." He confesses softly. "You caught my eye the day Aphmau introduced you to us because you were so confident with yourself." He glances down to your lips before looking at you again. "At first, it was because you were beautiful," he pauses, "I still do."

You chuckle and he does too, before pulling your focus back on him.

"Then as we got closer, I thought about how much I wanted to keep seeing you... be confident." He says. "And wanted to be the one that makes you confident too." He adds, nodding his head to the side. "Of course, only if you'd let me."

You sniffle and nod your head frantically. You laugh lightly as you begin to chuckle. "Yes!" You whisper. "Yes, Laurence, I-"

He cuts you off with another kiss. Only this time, you kiss him back.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hey, just a thought I've had about Fleur and Veela in general that's been floating in my head, and I thought you might appreciate it; I don't think Veela have hybrid offspring. Unless they reproduce asexually, there are male Veela, or two female Veela can produce an offspring, than all Veela have a non-Veela parent. The books don't really give Veela much attention, so all of that is certainly possible, but I like to consider other possibilities. We never see Fleur describe herself as quarter-Veela, correct me if I'm wrong, but it was only ever other charcters saying she was rumored to be quarter-Veela. This may be a rumor spread by Fleur's family: non-wizards aren't allowed to carry wands, at least in Britain, treating her like a witch with Veela ancestory would improve how she was treated immensely. I mean, like how parents with black hair and blonde hair wouldn't really have a child with both their hair colors. It's be whichever one is dominant. I consider Veela to be the dominant trait. Maybe all daughters are Veela, and sons non-Veela. Essentially, there is no thing as a pure Veela, or maybe, all Veela give birth to pure Veelas, and claiming a partial inheritance gives them better rights in the wizarding world. Just my headcanon I guess.

I'm not sure about that... Like, my knee-jerk reaction is that there is a difference between part-Veela and ful-Veela.

Like, the main reason I say that is that Harry has a different reaction to full-Veelas than to Fleur (and even her mother who should be a hlaf-Veela):

Looking careworn, she [Fleur] left the room. Ron still seemed slightly punch-drunk; he was shaking his head experimentally like a dog trying to rid its ears of water. “Don’t you get used to her if she’s staying in the same house?” Harry asked. “Well, you do,” said Ron, “but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then . . .”

(HBP, 93)

Harry has no reaction to Fleur's Veela magic. None. Even though others do react to them. Same with Fleur's mother who Harry notes is beautiful, but he isn't reacting to the magic:

Mr. Weasley, who appeared at the gate moments later, laden with luggage and leading a beautiful blonde woman in long, leaf-green robes, who could only be Fleur’s mother.

(DH, 107)

I think that is because he's gay (or at least not interested in women). But even he still reacts to the magic of full-Veela:

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry’s question was answered for him. Veela were women . . . the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen . . . except that they weren’t — they couldn’t be — human. This puzzled Harry for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-bright like that, or their white-gold hair fan out behind them without wind . . . but then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human — in fact, he stopped worrying about anything at all. [...] And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through Harry’s dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea . . . but would it be good enough? “Harry, what are you doing?” said Hermione’s voice from a long way off. The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

(GoF, 103)

Similarly, the full-Veela in the Quidditch World Cup have abilities Fleur doesn't seem to have:

At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, Harry saw that they didn’t look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders —

(GoF, 111)

Additionally, the fact that Veela can get pregnant and reproduce with humans kind of erases the option of asexual reproduction. Yeah, I know they're magic, but if they didn't need to get pregnant the regular human way for the continuation of their species, they wouldn't be capable of it (especially as the Harry Potter version of Veela aren't immortal like their folklore variants). So, that brings us to the lack of male Veela.

You are right that male Veela are pretty necessary to have a difference between full-Veelas and part-Veelas. While the Harry Potter books don't really give an answer regarding Veela reproduction, I went to the mythology JKR based on them.

"Veela" is an Anglicized form of the name "Vila" which is a fairy-like spirit from Slavic folklore portrayed as a nature spirit like nymphs in Greek Mythology. Both nymphs and Vila are portrayed as only women, but they are also portrayed as minor deities, as immortal and eternal like the nature they represent with abilities the Harry Potter Veela do not have. Veela very in mythology quite a bit but they tend to be shapeshifters often living in a water source. Regardless, they are only female in myth as well and I couldn't find anything about their births. I found one source that claimed a child of a Veela and a human man would be a half-Veela but it didn't discuss how full Veela came into being. Since the mythology Veela are immortal spirits of nature they are born out of trees and rivers, representing nature itself. So, unless this is the case in Harry Potter (I don't think it fits the worldbuilding much) this front didn't give us answers.

So, I went to Bill and Fleur's wedding to see if I could spot a potential male Veela or male part Veela. And the answer is I couldn't. It also seems like all part-Veela share the same hair, eyes, skin color, and general appearance regardless of who the father is, so you are right about the Veela gens being the more dominant ones (Fleur and Gabrielle are both described with silvery blond Veela hair like their mother, even though their father has black hair and is described as plump).

So, yeah, speaking of the info we have in canon it's actually possible part-Veela don't really exist and that Veela can just choose to activate their charming magic in a more active way (that affects Harry, like in the Quidditch World Cup) or not and remain with just their passive charm (that doesn't affect Harry). But this doesn't really give an answer to the extra abilities full-Veela seem to have that part-Veela don't.

Another issue I have with this theory is that if Veela were indeed born this way for centuries, there is no way anyone would believe Fleur is a quarter-Veela. I mean, wizards are dense often enough, but I don't think they are that stupid. They would know how Veela reproduce and then not believe said rumors.

I think JKR just didn't think through all the implications of how she portrayed Veela...

Point is, your headcanon is possible, and you can headcanon it but I personally prefer to think of Fleur as a quarter-Veela and believe male Veela do exist. Because they do sorta exist in myth.

There are Näcken from German and Scandinavian folklore that are shapeshifting water spirits that are portrayed as handsome men, they occasionally lure people to their deaths and occasionally fall in love with human women and go live with them. The Näcken in Scandinavian folklore are always portrayed as male. In German mythology Nixie or Nixe can be either male or female from what I read. So, male Veela could exist and just potentially be known by a different name with slightly different abilities.

I mean, the Veela in Harry Potter attract people with dancing and music, the Näcken plays the violin to lure people to drown. Both are shapeshifters that are spirits of nature (Veela in various locations: forests, air, and water while the Näcken are only associated with water). Both are sometimes malevolent and sometimes helpful to humans. There are a lot of similarities so I like to headcanon them as sorta of the same species but with different typical appearance and name, hence the confusion.

So in a sense, there are no full-Veela males, but the other similar creatures, Näcken. Now, I'm not sure if half-Veela and half-Näcken would be the same or different, but that's a whole other discussion and goes more heavily into my headcanons.

I can't speak to what JKR intended, but your headcanon is possible. I just prefer to imagine "male Veela" and "male part-Veela" are out there somewhere (the quotation marks because they use a name that isn't Veela, the full ones at least).

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Chris Redfield x Werewolf!Reader Headcanons

I went with headcanons because my brain is fried anon, I'm sorry

I'm greened out but I always provide angst

🌙 First Jill went missing all those years ago only for him to find her under Wesker's sick control. And now you? The second he heard it over his radio he wanted to throw the absolute fuck up. He almost swallowed the freshly lit cigarette whole.

🌙 He's had so much ripped from his life, he's not going to let you be one of them. He briefly thought back to Piers, the haunting memory halting his moves as the rest of Hound Wolf pulled him back to reality.

🌙 He searches harder than he searched for Jill, if that was even possible. It's not like anyone is going to say shit to the walking embodiment of a brick on steroids.

🌙 Claire is the only one who could talk some sort of sense into him, even if it was small. She stopped him from stuffing his pockets full of bullets and strapping as many guns to his person before taking off to some random and minuscule bit of information. Even then, Chris finds it hard to stay calm as his little sister tries to calm him down enough to sit and think things out.

🌙 He's normally so good at planning these kinds of things. He learned so much from trying to find Jill that it almost makes him feel insecure that it happened to him once again.

🌙 He often sits up late at night waiting and praying for his phone to light up whether it be a call or text or email. He yearns to hear his phone go off, to feel the burn in his eyes for the light to cut through the deep night that overtakes the too-empty bedroom. He leaves his ringer volume up at the maximum so there's no chance of him sleeping through it. And one night, it finally does.

🌙 He's out of bed and geared up in a matter of a few minutes. He's deathly silent the entire transport ride, the thoughts running millions of miles an hour in his mind had him grinding his teeth. He was smoking up a storm too, as soon as one cigarette burned out he pressed another one to his lips and lit it. It worried the rest of Hound Wolf to see him like this.

🌙 He lead the charge. He wasted no time, kicking door open with his heavy boots and sweeping the rooms with his finger on the trigger. His eyes were wild and tactical as he looked over the strangely wrecked rooms of the facility. It was all so odd that the place was seemingly abandoned overnight, coffee cups were half drunk, computers were still logged into, even some doors were left unlocked that normally would need keycards to open.

🌙 He found you in a room towards the back of the facility. His blood ran freezing cold in his veins upon first glance. You weren't moving. Against his better judgment, Chris approached you quickly and felt for your pulse only to be startled when you jolted with life. You looked like you had been dragged through hell as his eyes scanned your body for all of your injuries.

🌙 His heart broke upon seeing all of the deep bruises and the puncture wounds from where they experimented on you like you were a B.O.W. It suddenly struck him like lightning as the rest of Hound Wolf filed in, a few checking the computers and files around as one of the medics hovered over you. What exactly were they pumping you full of?

🌙 He read the files on the transport back, occasionally looking over at you as you laid near motionlessly as the medic worked over you. Your files contained a lot of familiar elements from Romania with the lycans. He knew what you were now, closing the files and sorrowfully looking back at you. He knew for a fact he couldn't bring himself to put you down, you both have been through so much together.

🌙 He fights to keep you alive, and somehow, it works. Of course, there's the heavy restrictions and looming knowledge that if you even put one claw out of line that it would end horribly. But Chris is determined to never let that happen. His nerves ease when it comes to light that you're different than the lycans from Romania, only transforming during the night of a full moon.

🌙 He's there for you before you turn, often in the room with you despite the protests of the others and even you. He'd be damned if he ever left you alone.

🌙 He's helping you attach the shackles and whispers to you sweet nothings while doing so. He's not the best with words but he's determined to do his best.

🌙 He's always so hesitant to go when you do start to turn, often pausing before the door as he weighs his needs for survival and the need to be by your side during a horrible time like this.

🌙 When he does eventually close the barricaded door behind him, he's immediately looking at the screen displaying the horrors going on inside of the very room he was just in. While others reel and turn away during the initial transformation, Chris stomachs it and watches closely for any signs of something going wrong.

🌙 He would often sit at the door, his back against the metal as you snarled and tore apart the room on the other side. A cigarette between his teeth was lit and he would find himself talking just to fill the void when you would get too exhausted to fight against the chains. It was his way of still treating you like you were human, even now. He would talk about whatever came to his mind; What bullshit paperwork he had to do earlier, what Claire brought up on the phone, something stupid he overheard in the locker room.

🌙 You would always wake up in the morning with the chains already off and a thick flannel blanket draped over you, a comfy pillow tucked under your head and Chris sitting right next to you waiting patiently. He always had a bottle of water fresh from the fridge, a protein bar or two and a few painkillers at the ready along with a change of clothes.

🌙 Chris is sure to clear out your schedules for the rest of the day. Your body and your mind both just went under a horrible amount of stress and pain, you need to rest. He'd rather go face-to-face with Wesker again than see you struggling around the house the day after, especially for things so basic like water or food.

🌙 He often likes to carry you inside your shared home despite your weak protests. He's a pretty strong guy and his mind is even harder to break at times, so there's no convincing him to stop and put you down. He always carries you straight to bed and lays you down comfortably and stays by your side until you eventually drift off.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

MORE EPISODES OF MORNING WOOD (affectionate and also no pressure)!!!!

[The chorus to Chappell Roan's old classic 'HOT TO GO!' Plays over the title card of a green neon sign,

Morning Wood!

Hosted by Johanna Mason & Peeta Mellark

[[This is a crack fic based off of my Chaotic Hunger Games Headcanons that I've created in collaboration with @waywardangel-wilds and @triassictriserratops. This is not meant to be taken seriously or stick closely to canon. Keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times, and please enjoy the show.]]

In the background you can clearly see Johanna forcing a cheap, foam parrot with bright feathers falling off of it the more Johanna fiddles with the item, trying to attach it to Peeta's prosthetic leg that sits on top of the wooden desk that they sit behind meant to look similar to the news anchors on Capitol News Nightly. Johanna and Peeta are both wearing heart shaped sunglasses and obnoxious fur coats despite it being July. Both items are in their respective favorite colors, orange for Peeta, and the most obnoxious pink for Johanna. No one knows if she prefers this color or if Peeta just detests it so much she enjoys annoying him with it.]

Peeta: (Amused with Johanna's efforts, hands in his lap in a pompous manner.) Having fun, Jojo?

Johanna: (Clearly irritated, the cursing under her breath becoming more audible as the intro music begins to fade away.) It's this fucking material, the plastic is too smooth. (She gives up, throwing the cheap parrot at Peeta and smacking her hand against the table to rid herself of the bright feathers that stick to her skin. After a few beats she gives up, accepting them as a new part of her look while turning to face the camera.) Good morning, New Panem, and welcome to another episode of your favorite show hosted by the hottest prostitutes you know, 'Morning Wood!'

[Peeta blinks quickly as he processes Johanna's words, opening his mouth to respond but being cut off before he can.]

Johanna: I'm your host, Johanna "Don't Call Me Jojo or I'll Kill Your Fucking Children" Mason. (Turning her swivel chair towards Peeta, addressing him directly while keeping her mouth close to the mic.) I'm serious. I've done it before, I know how to murder people.

Peeta: (Looking at her blankly as though she's slow.) Yes, Johanna. I know.

Johanna: Yeah.

Peeta: That was how we met.

Johanna: I just wanted to make sure you knew that you were in a room with someone that has a body count.

Peeta: We- (He sighs shortly.) We both have a body count.

Johanna: Who the fuck is We?

Peeta: We literally-

Johanna: Who the fuck did you kill?

Peeta: I-

Johanna: Two grown ass men who'd lived their lives?

Peeta: (Unsure.) Pr- probably? I don't- do you-

Johanna: Literally doesn't count.

Peeta: (Visibly irritated.) How-

Johanna: Anyways. Now that we've discussed Peeta was somehow in the Hunger Games and so undesirable that literally no one wanted to get killed by him. (Johanna leans into the mic.) Couldn't be me.

[Peeta throws his hands up into the air as though to say he gives up, then glances at the camera, glaring over his rhinestoned glasses while pressing his lips into a thin line. He is obviously unamused.]

Peeta: (Looking behind the camera to shift his glare despite no one being there.) I'm not a prostitute, by the way.

Johanna: (Turning towards him.) That ugly?

Peeta: (Turning his chair back to hers again.) Ugly enough to be put into a political marriage while your ass was working the corner in that cheap ass coat.

[Johanna's jaw drops, her glare hard as she tries to think of a response. Peeta smirks smugly, turning back to the camera and lifting his glasses to rest on top of his head while he speaks, unfazed.]

Peeta: It's Tuesday, July 2nd today, meaning that Thursday will be July 4th. Tell me, Johanna, can prostitutes do the math to tell me what that day means?

[Peeta glances at Johanna, who is still stunned by his previous statement. Peeta doesn't offer her a chance to respond, quickly looking back to the camera to continue speaking.]

Peeta: Didn't think so. July 4th used to be Reaping Day, a day known to many people including Johanna and I as what used to mean worrying for ourselves, our loved ones and our community.

[The tone has turned slightly serious. Photos from before the Revolution of children from ages 12-18 crowded in front of their Districts Justice Hall fade in and out on the screen, Peeta nor Johanna speaking for a moment as they themselves watch and remember.]

Johanna: (Starting to gather her bearings.) Unless you're Peeta. Then it was a fucking speed dating event.

[The photo montage ends, revealing Johanna smirking at Peeta, who once again looks slightly unamused.]

Peeta: Yeah, well. Who's strategy got who into sex trafficking?

Johanna: Who's strategy had who crying like a little bitch in front of Panem because they couldn't handle stabbing a couple kids?

Peeta: (Furrowing his brows in confusion.) Yours.

[A new image is displayed on the screen, a semi-blurry screenshot from the news footage of 16 year old Peeta Mellark visibly crying as he is escorted to the train station after his first reaping. A crying baby sound effect plays over the image, muffling Peeta's vocal protest in the background. The image fades away, showing Peeta now looking at Johanna with one hand raised in self defense.]

Peeta: I was sixteen, I thought I was gonna die!

Johanna: And yet, you were ugly.

Peeta: That... whatever, you're distracting me. (Turning back to the camera.) Go away.

[Johanna smirks to the camera, chuckling as she shrugs like she knows she's won. She has.]

Peeta: Reaping Day. Jesus. Got me off track, someone fire her.

Johanna: Speaking of firing, someone needs to do it to this genius who thought it was an awesome idea to turn the Mockingjay's memoir, published only last Memorial Day,- (She turns to Peeta for a moment, stage whispering into the mic.) That's what it's called now.

Peeta: (Stage whispering into his mic as well.) I know.

Johanna: (Turning back to the camera and speaking at normal volume.) -Into a-

Peeta: (Still whispering.) I was there when they named it.

Johanna: (Not acknowledging him.) Into a-

Peeta: You'd know this if you'd fucking show up to something.

Johanna: (Stiffling a laugh, trying to look irritated.) I was busy that day.

Peeta: Being a loser.

Johanna: (Starting to crack.) I was fucking your wife.

Peeta: My wife was with me, Jojo. (They're both starting to laugh now.) Pick another struggle.

Johanna: I was...

Peeta: Uh huh?

[They both laugh loudly, Johanna obviously a bit embarrassed.]

Johanna: I was... hungover.

Peeta: (Surprised.) You were hungover?

[Johanna looks at him meekly, hiding her smile behind her hand as she nods. Peeta looks at the camera, jaw dropped.]

Peeta: You missed a government official announcement because you were seriously hungover?

Johanna: Listen! Listen, I never said I was perfect.

[Peeta nods as if to say 'no shit.' Johanna laughs again, pushing his leg off of the desk, accidently kicking her mic off and cursing loudly as she bends over to grab it, Peeta laughing at her struggle.]

Peeta: (Looking at the camera and gesturing at Johanna, making no effort to help her.) New Panems favorite podcaster, everyone.

[Johanna flips him off, then ignores his returned bird as she sits back up, still cursing as she reconnects the wire to her mic.]

Johanna: Fuck off, brainless. I'll still kill you.

Peeta: (Still laughing.) You said the same to Enobaria and look what happened- she was at the announcement.

Johanna: (Ignoring him.) Anyways. Some genius looked at Katniss Everdeen's memoir series and decided it was the perfect material to turn into a fucking opera.

Peeta: (Regaining his composure, scoffing.) Is that even legal without the copywrite?

Johanna: Well, it's technically not based on the books and is a (Air quotes.) "re-telling of historical events," so despite it being eerily similar to your wife's novels, yeah. He's in the clear.

[Peeta shakes his head, rolling his eyes.]

Peeta: You know, these people are the same ones who wonder why we don't even share our kids names publicly. If we did, there would be cocktails named after our kids or some bullshit like that.

Johanna: Some bar, or something.

Peeta: Yeah, or an amusement park. (Peeta begins to give an example, then cuts himself off as he realizes that would reveal his daughters name.) Anyways. You're lucky we let you know what they look like.

Johanna: And that's just description. You guys have never published a photo of your children or allowed someone else to publish a photo of your kids.

Peeta: Fuck no, people are crazy. You as a primary example.

[Johanna shoots him a grateful look, mouthing 'thank you' before making a heart shape with her fingers. Peeta returns the gesture.]

Johanna: But speaking of crazy people, I have an inside source who was given an early access, exclusive ticket to last night's closed dress rehearsal, and they stayed up all night writing a very thorough review on their thoughts and what takes place within the show.

Peeta: Johanna, that inside source was you. And the only thing that note says is 'BAD' in capital, red, comic sans font.

[Johanna sets the note down, glaring at Peeta. Beat.]

Johanna: You ruined my bit.

Peeta: All of the surviving Victor's were invited to the show last night. You're just the only one who went.

Johanna: (Rolling her eyes.) Whatever. (She crumples her paper, throwing it over her shoulder before resuming the story.) So, I went to the Capitol theatre last night to watch the show, and- oh, first off, if the background looks off, we're literally in a Capital hotel room right now.

[Johanna pushes at the green screen, trying to reveal the mahogany wall of the hotel behind it and failing. Peeta watches with a blank stare.]

Peeta: Wow. Impressive. But yeah, no. Jo asked for a podcast room to film this today and the hotel was very gracious to accommodate us, they even had a desk similar to Jo's. So, thank you to The Capitol Jewel for being so wonderful.

Johanna: (Giving up, letting the crumpled greenscreen remain disheveled while she sits back in her chair, rolling her eyes at Peeta.) You sound like you're giving a Tribute Interview with Flickerman right now.

Peeta: (Laughs.) Do I? (He shrugs, smiling.)

Johanna: Anyways, yeah. No one else wanted to go to the show, but I wanted to see how bad they fucked up our characters in this and everyone else wanted a fucking holiday, so here we go.

Peeta: Except for Haymitch.

Johanna: Oh, yeah. Except for Haymitch, he's at home fucking his wife.

Peeta: (Waving his finger in correction.) Not wife. They are very insistent that they aren't even dating, let alone married.

Johanna: Oh, whatever. That sounds like you and brainless before you got mushy brained by Tracker Jackers in the war.

Peeta: (Laughing.) That's because it is me and Katniss before I got mushy brained during the war. (Addressing the camera.) She and Annie are out right now having a girl's day at some local spa. So no live Katniss messages during th-

[Peeta cuts himself off as his brows furrow. He reaches into his pocket to retrieve his phone, checking to see what his notification was.]

Johanna: Yeah, that's your wife telling you to shut the fuck up before you say where they're at for some mob to harass them.

[Peeta quietly nods, his face slowly turning red as he puts his phone back into his pocket, avoiding eye contact for a brief moment as Johanna laughs.]

Johanna: Anyways, they actually did name your kids during the show last night. They were, of course, in the finale.

Peeta: (Raising a brow.) Oh?

Johanna: I want you to just take a wild guess what their names are.

[Peeta narrows his eyes at Johanna for a second, clearly unsure of where this is going.]

Peeta: It isn't their actual names, is it?

Johanna: No. No, God no. I would've told you privately if it was so you could sue the shit out of them. No, they guessed.

[Peeta pauses for a second, contemplating.]

Peeta: Probably... hmm. (He seems unsatisfied with his own guesses.)

Johanna: Take your time.

Peeta: See, the problem is this is the Capitol. So, it could range from something really stupid to something oddly sentimental.

Johanna: (Nodding.) Yeah.

[There's another long pause.]

Johanna: Should I do today's sponser while you contemplate your options?

[Peeta hesitates, scratching his beard as he thinks, then sighs and nods, waving his hand to give Johanna the go-ahead.]

Johanna: Alright! Well, while brainless here tries to use what little thought he has left here, let's hear a word from today's sponser.

[Johanna reaches under the table, grabbing and then placing a giant, cloaked object on top of the desk. Peeta raises his brows in surprise, then laughs loudly as Johanna tears away the cloth covered box to reveal nothing.]

Johanna: The Capitol Jewel!

Peeta: (Surprised.) No kidding?

Johanna: They nearly shit themselves when they found out four Victor's and their kids booked their vacation here, you're seriously surprised?

[Peeta shrugs to himself, nodding and allowing Johanna to continue. She doesn't. Instead, she stares silently at the camera, prompting Peeta to raise his brows in curiosity.]

Peeta: You good?

Johanna: (Breaking eye contact to look at Peeta casually.) Yeah.

Peeta: You don't have anything else to say about the sponsor?

Johanna: No.

[There's another moment of silence as the two stare at each other, unblinking, before Peeta shrugs and brightly says 'Okay' before turning back to the camera. He then pauses, realizing his next statement is meant to be directed at Johanna instead.]

Johanna: (Clapping her hands together.) Okay! So. Guesses.

Peeta: Give me a range.

Johanna: Of crazy?

Peeta: Yeah.

Johanna: (Laughing.) That's cheating.

Peeta: No it isn't! Not unless it's something insane like- like fucking-

[Johanna watches Peeta, her brows raised and lips split in entertained anticipation. Peeta raises his own brows, then furrows them. His expression turns somewhat serious, as though he doesn't want to speak the next part.]

Peeta: Johanna?

Johanna: (Barely holding back her laughter, her cheeks turning bright red. Her voice cracks as she speaks.) Yeah?

Peeta: What the fuck did they name my children?

[Johanna places her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter that involuntarily escapes. Peeta watches her through narrowed eyes, his expression reading as unsure if he himself is entertained by this or not.]

Johanna: (Finally composing herself, taking short breaths in to calm her laughter.) Okay, okay. So. (She swallows.) So, one of their names is fine. Kinda cute, kinda sweet.

Peeta: (Nodding.) Okay.

Johanna: They named your daughter Rosalie Prim Rue.

[Peeta processes this with obvious facial expressions, at first thinking it sweet, then furrowing his brows at the odd mash up of names.]

Johanna: (Raising her hands slightly as if in defense.) I said 'kinda.'

Peeta: (Nodding, still mulling over the name.) You did say kind of. (He pauses for another moment, staring at the table as he finishes his thoughts.) It's not bad. We wouldn't have had an emphasis on rose. But it's not bad. Decent guess.

Johanna: No, it's not bad. It's obviously a sweet tribute.

Peeta: Right.

[It's obvious as they murmur their repeated agreements that there's more they'd like to say, but for the sake of privacy decide against it.]

Peeta: Okay. So, my son's name?

[Johanna stares blankly at him for a moment, then snickers. Then snickers again. Peeta stares at her, suppressing his own smile.]

Peeta: It's Gale.

[Johanna shakes her head, her laughter becoming more pronounced. Peeta raises his brows.]

Peeta: Haymitch?

[Johanna shakes her head again, once more covering her mouth to suppress her laughter, shutting her eyes tight to avoid looking at Peeta, who has a confused expression on his face, his brows knit together and mouth slightly agape as he thinks.]

Peeta: (Stuttering as he tries to guess.) Fuckin'- I don't know. (Beat.) Coin?

[Johanna's eyes pop open, her hand flying up to point at him. Peeta's eyes widen.]

Peeta: No fucking way!

Johanna: (Quickly composing herself again.) Close. Coriolanus.

[The two Victor's stare at each other, Johanna smiling widely, Peeta bewildered, fighting his own smile. His phone buzzes, once, than twice. He doesn't check it.]

Johanna: You're ignoring your wife.

Peeta: (Still obviously shocked.) We need to get my wife on here. She'd have a much funnier reaction.

[Johanna brightens at this, ready to jump on the opportunity. She opens her mouth to speak, only for Peeta to wave his hand, shaking his head as he repeatedly says 'no.']

Peeta: I don't want to interrupt her day with bullshit, she needs rest.

Johanna: Oh, come on!

Peeta: (Trying to get back on subject.) What shitty author decides I would- she would- we would name our child after that vipor, cock sucker?

Johanna: (Giggling.) They said it was because you guys-

[She cuts herself off with another giggle. Peeta raises his brows at her, silently insisting she go on.]

Johanna: (Calming.) They said it was because you guys wanted to (pitching her voice to sound sympathetic.) 'Give the man who had no true love given to him another chance.'

[Peeta groans loudly, cursing. He looks around the room as if he cannot believe the bullshit he's hearing, raising his arms as if to say 'what the fuck?']

Peeta: Have they considered it's because he murdered people?

[Johanna laughs. Peeta looks at her.]

Peeta: No, seriously! He killed an insane amount of people, and you want him to have a redemption arc?!

Johanna: They also-

[She is cut off by Peeta, who's phone is still buzzing.]

Peeta: (Dropping his voice and adopting a Capitol accent.) "Life is so unfair. I recieve no bitches. I kill." (He looks at the camera, appalled.) You know what I did when I didn't get bitches?

Johanna: (Amused, watching him.) Porn.

Peeta: (Staring down the camera, slamming his hands on the table before pointing down the barrel.) Porn.

[Johanna laughs loudly, throwing her head back and turning her chair so she faces away from the camera. Peeta still stares at the camera, his expression shifting from dead serious to realization, his face quickly turning red as he's just realized what he's admitted in his passion, his lips which are pressed together twitching at the corners, laughter bubbling in his chest as tears begin to form in his eyes from suppressed laughter. Johanna's laughter increases as Peeta's phone begins to ring, clear bluegrass cutting through the silence and laughter, making her shriek.]

Peeta: (Not looking away from the camera.) If you'll excuse me, I have to answer my wife.

[He does, Johanna laughing to the point of tears, her chair spinning the full way round to allow her to rest her upper body on the table, her palms slapping the surface. On the phone, two women can be heard laughing on the other side, one of them asking 'what the fuck he was thinking' as Peeta rises from his chair, his fur coat swishing with each heavy footstep. The door to the room opens and shuts, leaving Johanna alone to sit and weep at her friends predicament. Breathing is obviously difficult for her, and not a priority. She raises her head, revealing tear tracks from her mascara as her hand searches for her mic, instead grabbing Peeta's and dragging it close enough to her mouth the audio is affected.)

Johanna: (Through broken laughter, wheezing, sniffing back tears.) We're gonna take a quick intermission, everyone. Tune back in in an hour or so.

[A thud can be heard in the other room, drawing Johanna's flickering attention.]

Johanna: Two hours.

['HOT TO GO!' Begins playing again, slowly drowning out Johanna's insane laughter as someone can be heard entering the studio, though the music is too loud to decipher whether it's male or female, let alone who it is. The person entering has made Johanna's laughter worse, her face now buried in her hands as the livestream fades to an end, cutting the day's episode short.]

[neuroprincess]

Zelda Spellman 🙈 🌄 🚨 🎁 plsss and thanks

Quick headcanons NSFW;

🙈 something they’re shy about asking for 

Zelda isn't shy about much, not easily, she's very uninhibited in bed and doesn't mind asking for something new, whether it's sexual position, toy or a kink she's just discovered and wants to try. But the ginger will blush from her cheeks to ears when asking you if you can have something softer or just cuddle lovingly after a rough session. She doesn't call it being shy, she's just...not used to it.

"Shut up!" she whispers laying down between your naked boobs, both of you are like this, sweaty skin and fatigue bringing you down after a few rounds "Now hug me."

"Just ask for it." you respond with a smile on lips as you wrap her in your arms, stroking the wavy hair as Zelda adjusts to the physical contact.

"Y/N, don't make me..." she lifts her gaze and faces you, you smile as you notice the blush taking over her pale face again, she has puppy dog eyes and doesn't even notice "Can you hug me so we can sleep?" she asks and immediately hides the face against your boobs, feeling burning with shame for finally having the courage to ask.

"Anything you want, darling." 

🌄 morning sex headcanon

She is the one who always wakes up first, usually when you wake up the bed is already empty and Zelda is on the first floor, ready for the day. On quiet days she will be getting ready in front of the dressing table, smiling as she watches you in the mirror's reflection.

But saturdays are different, instead of waking up alone you are slowly awakened by kisses being spread across the neck and soft hands sneaking under the blankets caressing your hips, warm breaths making skin shiver. The witch smiles, nibbling on it as her hand enters your pajamas, playing with the nerve, slow teasing movements. She leans in and takes your lips from hers, the other hand latches onto your boob squeezing gently, long elegant fingers are inside and soon you find yourself rubbing against her desperately seeking release. You cum in her hand and Zelda brings fingers up to her mouth, tasting you.

"You're fucking hot..." she places herself on top of you, thighs pinning your waist against the mattress, your pussies accidentally rub against each other and you moan unconsciously "Good morning, my love!" the ginger smiles in a way that you know the morning has just begun and you're not getting out of bed that early.

🚨 sex that sent me to the ER headcanon

It's no surprise that the witch enjoys wild sex and frequently, this totally pays off as she is a master at aftercare. Tonight was a little different, the students were real brats and administrative problems with the mortuary are giving her a headache, Zelda is frustrated and there is no better way to get rid of that by taking out on you. When she came home snorting and banging heels angrily against the floor you knew what was coming, fifteen minutes later you are in the bedroom on knees as your wife fucks you rough with the strap-on, having to hold you by the waist to keep you in place as each thrust practically throws you forward, so you have to hold on to the headboard too. She is being more wild than usual. Suddenly her hand slips from around your waist in a rougher thrust and you can't keep holding on to the headboard, in a second you are moaning in pleasure and the next in pain.

"Y/N..." she whispers seeing the blood on the sheets, getting out inside you carefully and turning around to check you are conscious, to her relief yes "For Satan, your head."

You hit your head on the wooden headboard hitting hard on the textured part, hard enough to open a bleeding cut, the red liquid dripping down your temple and leaving a frighteningly bloody sight. If it was someone else she would clean right there and take care of it with her bare hands, but Zelda couldn't touch you in that state, especially when you moaned and she was afraid of hurting you even more.

"Hildaaaaa!" she shouts after getting rid of the toy and dressing the two minimally decent, the whole time the witch tried to keep you conscious.

Soon the other witch joins the mess without any questions, she helps clean up the cut while Zelda watches you behind her sister, worried when she sees that the injury isn't as superficial as she imagined. She doesn't even wait for Hilda to say something to carry you to the car, the blonde just goes behind helping to keep you awake and staunching blood with a cloth.

"Y/N will be fine, we had to do five stitches and the hit caused a mild concussion, so don't be alarmed if she has nausea, headache and light sensitivity. I will write a prescription for pain meds and it's good to keep her at rest." the doctor said to the sisters after attending to the younger girl "Now, how exactly did this happen? It's a pretty bad cut."

Zelda and the doctor face each other silently, but it's Hilda who blushes and gives the situation away while her sister tries to look nonchalant, keeping quiet not wanting to expose her wife, she doesn't feel embarrassed, sex is a natural thing, but she doesn't know how Y/N would react to the doctor knowing how they came to this situation.

"Ohhh! Right..." the doctor blushes as well "I just wanted to rule out the possibility of domestic violence." Zelda opens her mouth to argue, extremely offended that she would even think of that possibility, despite all her faults the witch would never touch Y/N in this way. And is interrupted before she could tear her apart with words "Sorry! You can see her now."

"Great!"

🎁 birthday sexy headcanon 

Zelda isn't a big fan of birthdays, especially for herself after over 500 birthdays, but she understands if it's important for you and will make this date something special as a couple. Not a typical day, instead of waking up alone or caressed by the witch, you will wake up sweating and feeling yourself shaking all over as she works between your legs, skillful tongue circling your clit, fingers teasing your entrance provocatively and within minutes of waking up you have first orgasm of the day. Then she rises until your faces are inches apart and kisses you, making you taste yourself on her lips.

"Good morning, my birthday girl." she whispers before kissing you again.

And the day is full of little surprises...and teases. Breakfast is served on a tray in bed with everything you love to eat, but you almost choke when hungry green eyes stare at you and perfectly red-painted lips linger biting succulent strawberries. A sight of the demons. Then you find a small velvet box inside a box of chocolates and in it is a necklace adorned with your favorite stone. This is just the first gift in a sequence of small gifts scattered around the house, among them a pair of fuzzy handcuffs you had to hide from Ambrose who passed by the room, knowing he would tease you, some aphrodisiacs you always wanted to try and a pair of lingerie you find in the dresser, you examine the piece in hand and when looking back you find the witch staring at you with lust in eyes. It's beautiful, in a dark red, the fabric is soft, there are lace details, the bra is exactly your size and seems to be the kind that makes the breasts look big, the set has a garter belt. And you wear this to go to a dinner party organized by the Spellman family, hidden by an discreet dress that is also her gift, Sabrina and Ambrose talk animatedly without even noticing you blushing and struggling to pay attention to what they say, Zelda has a hand on your thigh under the table the whole time, fingers slowly moving up as time passes until reaching the edge of your panties. Smiling smugly as she realizes how wet you already are, then she just pulls her hand away and finishes the meal as if nothing is happening.

"Finally alone." she murmurs between the kiss and closes the door behind her as she guides you to the bed.

"They were lovely, but I confess I was looking forward to them going to sleep." you whisper back, anxious hands trying to unbutton the fancy dress and seeking to pull her closer and closer "Zelds..."

"Anxious we are, huh?" the witch gives you a quick kiss before pulling away and undressing, within seconds you are both in your underwear, she looks at you lewdly staring at every inch of naked skin, curve and detail.

The next moment you are in bed, her curvy body on yours, thigh between legs and one hand entwining yours while the other reaches for your pussy desperate for attention, lips moving in sync, it's deep and passionate. You gasp in surprise as you feel the fabric of the underside being ripped in two.

"Don't be so surprised, you should know by now that I bought it just to rip that from your body."

Fingers rub your clit in slow circles, ignoring your pleas for her to go faster and make you cum, the ginger just smiles biting your bottom lip between the kiss, you feel her lips wander from there to the neck where she leaves soft kisses and hickeys on the sweet spot that makes you shiver with desire, hips swaying in search of more contact. Without warning she thrusts two fingers into you pulling out a sobbing sigh, her palm is against the nerve bundle rubbing together with each thrust. The pace is slow, not because she wants to be gentle (unless you want to be) but because she wants to make you ask for it. Gradually the pace increases, the thrusts become sloppy and rough, a hand squeezes your boob and fleshy lips make a mess in the curve of your neck, it's too much to handle, soon you collapse in the woman's arms surrendering to an intense orgasm.

"Happy birthday my love!" she whispers leaning on her elbow, still inside you "I'm here to make your wishes come true tonight, what do you want now?" Zelda winks mischievously.

In short, if it's Zelda's birthday, she'll act as if it's just a normal day, almost a random date. But she knows that you will want to celebrate and nothing better than to have you in lingerie and a bustier waiting in her bed, the ginger will not let you leave the room, keeping you on water, fruit, kisses and many orgasms. She may try to beat the number of orgasms she can give you and you can give to her just for fun.

[ardentkurashk]

BG3 Tav Backstory Bash

This is a challenge to help people flesh out their Tav’s backstory by exploring their past. It is organized into four sections with seven prompts. You can treat this as a monthly challenge or a general project. You can write headcanons, fics, or share art based on the prompts! You can interpret the prompts however you want. If you want to share use the tag #bg3backstorybash

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Baby

Parents: So, Ka'zalii has no knowledge of who laid his egg and he's not really interested at this point in his life. His parent is still alive, raiding on the other side of the astral, a sorcerer who got entangled with abberant magic years ago.

He is the spitting image of Ka'zalii, if they did ever meet, they'd know instantly they were related. Birth: Straightforward egg hatching, on time, chomped and clawed his way out with no problems. First word: Knowing githyanki, probably a swear or a battlecry. Overheard from a raider arguing with the varsh or something probably. It's a marker of strength in your alien toddlers when they start swearing. When they first walked: I get the impression with githyanki that they're getting around by themselves pretty quickly. With how big those eggs are when they're about to hatch, they're strong enough to get moving straight away. So, his first little wobble around was under the encouragement of the varsh to throw themselves at each other and get clawing. Tantrum: I'm using my own toddler as a gauge for this because I picture Ka'zalii being similar. Chill as fuck most of the time, but explosive when a tantrum happens. Thankfully, this is before any magic manifests but still, tiny ball of frog rage over something so trivial. First sickness: It's more likely an injury than a sickness I think and probably a bite from a clutchmate. Thunderstorm: Immediately loves them, absolutely mesmerized by them. Not that his creche experienced them on its asteroid, but they can see them on the planet below and feel the atmosphere of them.

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Childhood:

Friends: There were two clutchmates he got close to early on, but the sa'varsh put a stop to that very quickly. Sabotaged their friendship quite expertly and encouraged them to fight each other often. Ka'zalii ended up in a fight to the death with one of them not long after. One of them still lives as a m'lar in Tu'narath. Siblings: He has one sibling from the same parent, but neither of them know they're related. They're called Vel, a psionic warrior. Currently off on their own insane adventure. If they ever reunite, they'll both have endless stories to tell. Getting into trouble: Frequently. When his wild magic manifests, he's causing chaos accidentally quite a lot. Undisciplined and volatile magic that his sa'varsh takes as a personal slight.

There's a few instances of sneaking around the creche and getting into rooms he's not supposed to be in too. This ends up being how he finds out he's fated for the next culling. Games: He learns card games and dice games from the older gith when he's a bit older. When he's small, games mostly consist of wrestling and fighting with clutch mates. Learning something new: Swordsmanship, his magic manifesting and learning to combine the two in battle. He took to his magic much faster than a blade, but while swordplay could be controlled and disciplined, his magic was definitely not. Trauma: The events that are the most vivid in his memory involve his magic. His magic being wild meant it was out of control often and undisciplined. His sa'varsh treated this as deliberate defiance and punished him for it. The scars on his back are the only scars he'd be rid of if he could. Obviously, this did nothing to help him learn to direct the surges, it just taught him to anxiously avoid using spells as much as possible.

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Teenager:

First love: Aside from a bit of experimenting and post battle relief, the first real connection he had to anyone was to Zeth. A ranger around his age, met after leaving his creche. They're still inseparable and when Ka'zalii becomes kith'rak, Zeth serves under him (huhuhu) as sarth and skilled assassin. Rebellion: Goes without saying really. Small acts of defiance throughout his teenage years unfortunately got him noticed as a problem. Such as sneaking into rooms with various records and going through them. His name ended up on the list for the next culling, leading to his departure. He was recruited to the Sha'sal Khou not long after leaving his creche. Running away: Ran away from his creche at around 17. His name was recommended for the next culling, the final push needed to persuade him to leave. He spent a few years assuming he was being pursued and didn't stay put for long. It led to his recruitment and meeting people who would become extremely important connections over the years. Reckless behaviour: So much so. Whether it's a side effect of his wild magic, or simply his nature, he never could quite decide. But he gave into the impulses often and with wild abandon. (He still does, much to the dismay of everyone around him, except Dahlia.) The time away from his creche, on the planet it orbited, were treated as opportunities to just unleash all that pent up stress and fling spells without fear of consequences. For the most part. Anything dangerous, with small odds of success, he was drawn towards. Peer pressure: There was a lot of pressure from his instructors, from the older warriors and from his clutch mates to gain control of his magic. It had the opposite effect if anything, you can't beat the wild magic out of someone, despite his sa'varsh's efforts. Growing pains: He ended up being 6'1" by the time he stopped growing, so he had plenty of this. Not that it was really acknowledged, endure and bear it like any good githyanki should. You take growing pains to a ghustil, you get laughed out the door. Taking responsibility: From an outside perspective, he took responsibility for his own life fairly early on, after leaving his creche. But from his point of view, he ran away from his responsibility to follow the path chosen for him. Instead of forcing his magic into cooperation, he failed and chose to evade his own death. Eventually, he views his departure as something he had to do to survive, but it takes him years to get to that point.

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Adulthood: Their "first time": Some time after leaving his creche, he ends up with an astral pirate crew and stays with them for a while. He ends up in a bit of a thing with the captain, who likely takes advantage of his desperate situation a bit. It isn't long before he finds a better place among a mercenary crew of kin. Serious relationships: I went into this a bit before, but Zeth is his first 'serious' relationship, as serious as gith get. Then it's an open relationship with each other and others as flings and post battle relief, until he meets Lae'zel. They start out as a fling, until not long after the second time they sleep together, he looks at her and has an oh fuck moment. He is catching feelings and that's bad. Keeps it as quiet as possible, but is not subtle at all, the others notice immediately. Cue relentless innuendos from Astarion and Shadowheart and endless encouragement from Karlach. Then the act 2 romance scene happens, dramatic duel where he gets absolutely flattened and loves every damn second of it. He worships the ground she walks on, he'd follow her anywhere. Work: There are some short lived piracy and mercenary jobs while he finds his feet. Then he gets recruited by the Sha'sal Khou and dedicates himself to it completely. Spy work, sabotage, the odd bit of assassination, disguises, eventually awarded the title of kith'rak and has his own little outpost and circle of kin he trusts utterly. Leaving home: He left his creche while he was still a teen, but it affected him for many years after. He doesn't really start confronting it until his time on Faerun and the whole netherbrain ordeal. Wyll is the one to break through the githyanki exterior and get some stories out of him and when Shadowheart shares her wolf memory, he shares one of his own memories in return. Aging: Age is a weird one for him. He's spent a lot of time on the astral plane, so he only counts the time he spends on the material. By the time the netherbrain is defeated, that amounts to around 28/29 years. But it has been 248 years since his hatching on the asteroid his creche exists on. Finding your place: The Sha'sal Khou was the first real purpose he felt he belonged to, but he refuses to think about how much of that was recruitment tactics. They got him when he was young, vulnerable, essentially homeless, easy target. He starts to question his place and the goals of his organization after becoming aware of the teachings of Orpheus and especially after actually meeting him. Lae'zel's conviction helps him analyse things a bit more closely, I imagine they had many a late night discussion in camp about it all. He confides in her often in the end. Eventually, he does defect to Orpheus' rebels, envisioning a civil war coming after Vlaakith's demise. There's also the couple of AUs for this version of events with Dahlia (@corvitine) being a catalyst in one timeline and Vanquish (@des-no9) being the catalyst in another. Starting a family/found family: Found family first of all. He doesn't realize this, but he has a lot of people around him that he should rely on. His inner circle that follow him to the rebels when he leaves: Zeth, Ka'a'dith, Ralith. The friends he makes in Faerun, all of the companions, they all keep in touch with each other I like to think. I also hc he goes back to Y'llek to get Varrl out of there, whether they have a sibling relationship or not, I haven't explored yet. He and Lae raise Xan and he has two eggs himself afterwards. In the Dahlia timeline, he ends up with a huge extended family from her, they end up with a sibling relationship and are absolute menaces together. They are the perfect reckless jigsaw pieces to each other. In Vanquish's timeline, he ends up with Lae a bit later, but he clicks with Van so quickly. They are also a nightmare together for anyone around them and it's great. ───────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.─────────────────

[possessionisamyth]

can’t read even 1/4 of the het ships in this tag because people put all the women into such tradwife roles it makes me want to vomit, so here are my headcanons when it comes to cooking abilities

Jill Valentine- Military rationing because it’s less time consuming. She cooks once and makes enough food to eat on for two weeks. She will eat that soup/beans&rice/chili for every other meal until she runs out. All her recipes are “throw everything in a pot and let it simmer overnight” style. Anything that has her sauteing, baking, or frying will get burned since she gets distracted doing other more important stuff.

Rebecca Chambers- Does not cook. Can not cook. Has not figured out how to cook. Take-out Queen. She can find a good restaurant or cafe in any area and this skill was honed on purpose. Hates long wait times for food though, so if she can she’ll send someone else to get her food/drinks.

Claire Redfield- Cooking level is tolerable as in she can follow easy recipes when there’s a video to watch, but may get an ingredient or measurement wrong and wonder why the dish tastes off. Anything more complicated than meatloaf or country fried steak is her nemesis.

Ada Wong- Fucking hates cooking. Can cook something decent with the littlest variety of ingredients, but hates it so much. She hates the mess during prep time, the mess during cooking, and the clean up afterwards. Hires a personal chef where she can or goes out to eat. (Before anyone disagrees saying she doesn’t trust strangers this much, consider she has a lot of money from her jobs and most people do not actually know who the fuck she is.)

Sherry Birkin- Substitution Queen. Loves to cook, and loves to experiment with food even more. If she starts cooking and finds she’s missing an ingredient, she’ll look at other recipes to see if she can replace it with something else. Will finish eating her food experiments or new recipe attempts even if they’re a little bland while constructing ideas on how to make it better next time.

Ashley Graham- Cooks college student food even into adulthood. Lactose intolerant but ignores it.  Her mom couldn’t cook, and no longer having a personal chef left her in the wild to figure things out. She will put together any strange combination of food for the taste and calories. She mixes cereals together. She mixes plain yogurt into her ramen. She will lovingly add a slice of cheese on top of the most white looking piece of baked chicken before adding hot sauce and sandwiching it between 9-grain wheat bread for the sake of getting some kind of fiber in her body.

Ingrid Hunnigan- The planner. She can follow almost any recipe without too much difficulty, and always makes sure she has all the ingredients before she starts. She cannot improv or substitute ingredients to save her life.

Sheva Alomar- Teaches herself how to cook a new recipe or better a current recipe when she has the time. Has 5 go-to recipes she’s mastered which everyone loves, but no consistent recipe book. Will default to military rationing where she’ll make a big pot of something and eat on it for a few days until she gets bored of it and goes out to eat. Forgets about ingredients she purchased and only used a little of, and they go bad making her feel guilty.

Helena Harper- Frozen meals or box meals where she adds a “secret ingredient” into whatever she cooks. The secret ingredient is always cayenne pepper or bouillon powder.

Mia Winters- Can cook only the most white american food possible, but thankfully is not afraid of spices or spicy food. Hamburgers, steak, casseroles, tuna salad, and so on, she can manage pretty well. Any “foreign” food is lost on her. The first time Ethan brought home an avocado with plans to make guacamole, he caught her using a potato peeler on it.

Let me know if you’d like a similar list with the men of RE.

[choco-froggie]

In his late twenties - Sebastian Sallow

Headcanons below

I want to start a series of my headcanons about what kind of person the HL characters would have become in their late twenties. Also I know next to nothing about the 19th century and don’t have the dedication to learn about it so in these, they’re just set up in our time. 😅 Bear with me

Work Life

I love the headcanon that Sebastian becomes a Curse Breaker. It fits his personal story AND personality well.

But he wouldn’t be happy working for a big corporation or the government. He is too much of a free spirit who needs to be allowed autonomy. So he would work in a small structure, a bit like a private investigator agency.

He loves his job and pours himself in it, resulting in a lot of overtime work. His boss has to throw him out of the office some days.

His home

He doesn’t need a big place so a small flat with two rooms is more than enough for him.

But he is prone to clutter and his place is full of books and things he thinks might be useful someday.

His flat is located in a big city, probably London. He needs to live in a place buzzing with life because he is easily bored. He needs a place where he will never have seen everything, with lots of things to do like exhibits, museums, libraries, pubs and restaurants,…

He doesn’t care for decoration but chooses his pieces of furniture with care. Decoration is usually taken care of by his partner.

He doesn’t own a pet, he is not at home enough to care for one and doesn’t feel the emotional need to have one.

He has a picture of his family in every room, even if it’s a small picture, but he wants them close everywhere in his place.

Social Life

He kept in contact with a lot of his former friends back in Hogwarts. He doesn’t meet them every day but is happy to have a drink with them when the opportunity rises.

He is outgoing and comfortable in social settings. He is able to come to a party where he knows no one and blend in with ease.

Despite being quite extroverted, he doesn’t form a strong bond with just anyone. Even though he is friendly with everyone, it’s mostly superficial and his true friends can be counted on one hand.

He doesn’t enjoy being alone so is often meeting friends after work, several times a week, and shares activities with them on the weekend like playing quidditch, go on small trips, game nights, watching quidditch games,…

Love Life

He has dated but has never had a « wild phase ».

He needs an independent partner. He is very busy with his work and all the things he has in mind, so he really appreciates someone who is likeminded. He can’t deal well with needy people. Being in the same room or space is already great to him for most evenings.

Actually self sufficient and people who are their own person attracts him.

He also needs someone with patience. When stressed or tired he can become a bit grumpy or moody, so he needs a partner who won’t escaladate. But he knows he is wrong and will come back and apologize once he is calmed down.

As said, he is a bit busy, but his partner is the person he wants to spend all his relaxing time with. Whether it is by cuddling after a long day in bed, or by exploring the city together, trying new activities, strolling in museums, or trying new food.

He is independant and self sufficient, as a partner he doesn’t slack off around the house and shares the mental load. He is reliable, he is used to live alone and gets things done without being babied.

Quirks

He hates doing laundry and doesn’t tidy his place as much as he should be but it’s always clean.

He can’t handle silence, even when he sleeps. He is always listening to something, most of the time it’s documentaries or podcasts about things he wants to learn about.

What would yours be about adult Seb ?

[crazylittlejester]

I return with a short list of headcannons

Twilight has anemia. He is so pale despite being a farm boy and the only farm boy I knew who was as pale as him also had anemia. Give this boy some iron supplements pls.

You may think Wild and Hyrule are the problem children when together, but if you added Four it's as if you sent three overly hyper children into a candy store. Zero brain cells are to be found.

Every bird loves Sky. Every. Single. One. He has Disney princess vibes.

Warriors cannot sing for the life of him. You know Scuttle from the Little Mermaid? Thats what he sounds like.

Fairies love Hyrule and Time so much that it isn't uncommon to see the small balls of light attempt to "kidnap" them. (Which in reality is just them repeatedly hitting themselves against the two since they can't push them, and it's adorable.)

Time, in his youth, would starve himself since he was so used to eating very little. Malon threatened to throw a cow at him if he didn't start eating. Time hasn't starved himself since.

Wind believes babies come from storks and I will die on that hill.

Legend, despite what many others headcannon for him, is religious. I like to think that he doesn't worship Hylia, but Farore.

Twilight is also religious, but for the light spirits. I like to think that Ordon's religion is simular to our paganism.

All the Links (minus Legend and Wind) experienced horrible sea sickness when they first got on Tetra's boat.

Twilight has a prosthetic arm after his arm was cut off during his adventure. You know the "need a hand" joke? That's how he revealed his prosthetic to the chain. He threw his arm to Sky, causing the man to pass out out of shock and horror (since Skyloft hasn't made the medical advancements for prosthetics!)

Cats love the Links, even if Four is deathly afraid of them. It's because the remlets loved Sky back when they existed.

Thanks for sharing these I had fun reading them!! I’m sorry it took me so long to respond to ur ask, I wanted to make sure I had enough time to read through all of them and respond :)

- Oooh Twilight with anemia is interesting. I personally headcanon that Twilight has one of the darkest skin tones of the bunch, along with Sky and Hyrule, while Legend and Time are the two palest

- Four to me gives off incredibly responsible energy, but when you pair him with someone else, he goes nuts and gets real silly real quick

- SKY DISNEY PRINCESS REAL. That boy has sung and held out his hand and a bird has landed in it, I just know it.

- I actually have a fic series I wrote where Wars was just completely tone deaf but did not let that stop him from screaming along to the radio. I think normal Wars would secretly be a decent singer but be bad on purpose because its a skill he’s anxious about

- I headcanon that fairies will just it in Time’s hair and let him walk around and carry them, and that they also do this to Hyrule and Wild as well

- I have a similar headcanon that Time used to only live off of nuts and fruits and cried the first time he saw Malon kill a cow for food. He’s over it now, but he’s still upset if he has to see it happen and will not kill an animal himself

- WIND ABSOLUTELY BELIEVES THAT AND I THINK HE’D CRY IF SOMEONE TOLD HIM OTHERWISE

- As far as the Links and religion go, I don’t think any of the hate Hylia, I think some are a bit bitter but I think at the end of the day they all know its not her fault. And yes to Legend worshipping Farore and Twilight the light spirits!

- I would like to add that I don’t think Wild would get sea sick. But all the others? Dead. Gone actually. One boat ride and they’re on the floor. Sky’s been in boats before but he hates them

- Twilight with a prosthetic arm would be an absolute menace to society oh good god 😭😭😭 (I’m obsessed with this headcanon btw, i love it)

- CATS LOVING LINKS BECAUSE REMLITS LOVED SKY IS SO CUTE. TEARS IN MY EYES RN THAT’S ADORABLE.