#i want to draw YOUR cool little guys (gender neutral)

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Hey nerds come check me out on artfight ESPECIALLY if you have an ultrakill oc

[pomefioredove]

Can I pretty please have The housewardens (Plus Ruggie and Rook) with a kawaii metal singer? Like soft feminine voice and cutesy outfits and then on stage is just death screaming and gets embarrassed because apparently "Guys find it embarrassing when fem people metal scream."

interesting... I'll see what I can do!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ kawaii metal singer

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, ruggie, azul, kalim, vil, rook, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral but implied feminine in the way they dress, reader is not specified to be yuu

imagine having a conversation about music with Riddle

he's pleasantly surprised!

he thought he had nothing in common with you

but you're a musician!

to him, mastering an instrument is akin to mastering a subject or acing an exam

and he'll talk your ear off about his favorite composers and concertos

of course, he's curious about what you play

so, you show him a song

and he's...

...well...

it's... music, he supposes

it takes the same skill to play (perhaps even more?) so he's still impressed. just... surprised!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona's reaction? yawn

a musician is just like a theater kid with a weapon

based on the way you dress, he can already guess

piano? pop? wannabe indie?

undoubtedly something upbeat and fast

that he has no interest in

it's not until he starts hearing the whispers that he gives it a second thought

funny enough, it's the other boy's dislike that draws him in

and, oh, was he wrong

the first time Leona hears you screaming, he's smitten

you've got some voice on you, that's for sure

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ruggie already associates femininity with strength

(whether you're girl or not, mind you)

so, he's not really taken aback or 'nothin

you show him a clip of one of your performances, and his reaction is more like:

"Cool. Nice chords. What's for dinner?"

he knows that not everyone is gonna see it that way

but to him, it's nothing to write home about

...unless he thinks you're gonna be a good provider for him

then he might tell his grandma he's bringing you home for break

"How much do you singers make, anyway?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

now, Azul was captivated from the start

when Jade came back to him with intel on you, he wasn't expecting you to be a singer

how intriguing...

Azul is a musical person himself, so, of course he was curious

but it's not until he tries to strike a deal with you that he realizes he was very, very wrong

your voice in exchange for anything you desire...

...and you start laughing at him

"my voice? do you know what I sing?"

Azul is a little taken aback by your reaction

now, what's so funny?

eventually, you share a little of your work, and he...

...well, he's impressed, that's for sure

it takes a lot of vocal training to be able to do that

but unless Floyd takes up a new hobby, he has no use for a metal singer's voice

so, for now, he'll simply admire your talent from afar

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

People tend to see Kalim as this witless little flower who can't be exposed to anything "scary"

and, sure, he can be naive at times

but it actually takes a lot to freak him out

he's also been hanging out with Lilia Vanrouge for two years, so, you know

he'd just be impressed, if anything

"Wow, that's so cool! I wish I could do that, but my voice can't go that high, and Jamil doesn't want me to hurt my throat..."

I mean, really impressed

he'll beg you to show him all of your songs

and he might try to get you to one of his club meetings, too

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil is more like,

"Well, I hope you're taking adequate care of your throat. You'll overexert yourself if not,"

...so, no

he's not even phased by it

Vil is a performer himself, after all

he's more concerned with your physical and mental wellbeing than you being "embarrassing"

the next day, he'll show up at your door with an armful

this is for your throat, this will keep your skin from drying out under the lights, this foundation is designed for stage...

he's always been generous, after all

and he certainly won't accept no for an answer

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

similarly, Rook doesn't think anything of it

he's simply taken by you

...your devotion, your energy, your heart!

sometimes he, too, feels like screaming for his passions!

you can expect him to be your number one fan

and be at each of your performances, whether small or big, on stage or just in your room

(whether you know he's there or not)

he always seems to know just what to get you, though. tea with honey? salt water for your throat?

he's thought of it before you even have to ask

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is fangirling over it before he even meets you

listen, in his defense-

one of his favorite animes is about a kawaii metal singer!

and he was already familiar with the genre, anyway

so... no, it's not weird to him

if anything, he feels weird for never being able to talk to you about it

it's basically like talking to one of his idols IRL

whether you're a well-known performer or just make videos online is irrelevant to him

you'll be receiving a lot of anonymous donations from someone named gloomurai

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

when Lilia makes an offhand comment about your music, Malleus is intrigued

you'd never mentioned being a musician, after all

the next time you see each other, he asks

but, much to his confusion, you seem... embarrassed?

he quickly explains he only heard it from Lilia, and didn't mean to offend you, and-

ah...

that's why you're embarrassed?

you think he won't like you because others have said it's unbecoming?

humans are so strange, he thinks

it's only music, after all. it'd take much more to make him dislike you

besides, this is Lilia's foster son we're talking about. he's been exposed to every genre at least once

[zesty4zenin]

I’m pretty sure I sent one- but nonetheless! I remember exactly. Can you do a Yandere! Yuji oneshot? It’s much like your teen Gojo one, but instead reader was originally a transfer student from the USA and came to Jujutsu tech to learn more but then had to go back home? If that makes any sense whatsoever, I’ve had this idea for a while now!

“𝐌𝐲 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭.” YANDERE!YUJI ITADORI X GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

SYPNOSIS: Yuji meets the American transfer student and can’t help but come to love them! But what happens when he finds out they have to go back home?

WARNINGS: emotional manipulation, and that’s it!

A/N: it made sense, dw!! Thanks for the request ^^ also I felt like I made Yuji like softish yandere, not too crazy lol

IT WAS another day at Jujutsu Tech for Yuji. Same routine as usual—learn how to control his cursed energy, fool around a little bit, then continue training. Afterward, he’d finish school, hang out with Nobara and Megumi, and go back to his dorm to sleep.

It was a routine he followed every day, yet Yuji didn’t dislike it. In fact, he found it enjoyable, even comforting. There was always something fun about their banter and training sessions.

But sometimes, a small part of him wished for something different. A new face among the first years, someone to add a spark to their already dynamic group. Don’t get him wrong, he liked Nobara and Megumi. They were his friends. He just… wanted to meet someone new.

And that’s exactly what happened.

One day, as Yuji was walking into class, he spotted Nobara and Megumi talking quietly in the corner. Their heads were close together, and they seemed deep in conversation. Curiosity piqued, Yuji strolled over, plopping down between the two of them with a bright grin.

“What’re you guys talking about?” Yuji asked, eyes darting between them.

Nobara huffed, leaning back in her seat. "We’re getting a new student," she said, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "Gojo-sensei wouldn’t shut up about it before he left to go get them."

Yuji’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A new student? Seriously? I didn’t hear anything about that!" His voice was laced with excitement as he leaned forward. "Did Gojo-sensei say anything else? Like, who they are or what they can do?"

Megumi shrugged, his usual stoic expression in place. "No details yet. Just that they’d be joining our class."

Nobara rolled her eyes. "Knowing Gojo, he’s probably making it more dramatic than it needs to be. But still… it’ll be interesting to see what they’re like."

Yuji’s mind buzzed with possibilities. Who could this new student be? Would they be strong? Fun to hang out with? His excitement grew, though he couldn’t shake a strange, underlying feeling that this new arrival would change things.

Yuji barely had time to ask another question before the door slid open, revealing Gojo with his usual carefree smile plastered on his face. But this time, he wasn’t alone. Standing beside him was someone new—someone Yuji had never seen before.

“Alright, everyone!” Gojo announced, his voice carrying through the room. “I’d like to introduce you to your new classmate! They’re from the USA, so play nice.”

Yuji’s eyes immediately locked onto you, and the world seemed to slow down for a moment. You stood there, quietly beside Gojo, your expression a little nervous but determined. There was something about you that Yuji couldn’t quite place—maybe it was the way you carried yourself, or maybe it was just the fact that you were new, different.

“This is [Your Name]. They’ve come a long way, so let’s make them feel welcome!” Gojo said, giving you a gentle nudge forward.

“Hi,” you greeted softly, your voice drawing Yuji’s attention even more. The way you spoke was different, a little unfamiliar, but it intrigued him.

Nobara waved lazily, “Cool, nice to meet you. Don’t mess up on the first day, okay?” she teased.

Megumi gave a small nod, but Yuji was still staring at you, his mind whirling. USA? That was cool! But more than that, something strange was happening—his heart was pounding in his chest, a little faster than normal. A warm, almost uncomfortable feeling spread through him, and for the first time in a long time, Yuji felt… off-balance.

What is this? Yuji thought, blinking as he tried to calm the weird sensation creeping up on him. He’d never felt this way before, not even with all the excitement in his life. He swallowed, his throat dry, as he wondered if this was what people meant by "love at first sight." Could it really be happening to him? Right now?

Gojo clapped his hands, snapping Yuji out of his thoughts. “Alright, take a seat, and we’ll get started. Yuji, maybe you can show them around later?”

Yuji felt his face flush. "Uh, yeah! I’d—uh—I’d love to!" he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. Nobara shot him a strange look, but Yuji couldn’t focus on anything other than you and the rapid thudding of his heart.

As you made your way to sit down, Yuji couldn't stop stealing glances in your direction. There was something about your presence that pulled him in, something magnetic. He couldn’t explain it, but he was determined to get to know you.

Could this really be love?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few days had passed since you arrived at Jujutsu Tech, and Yuji had quickly become your unofficial guide. Wherever you went, he wasn’t far behind, always smiling and eager to help. It was as if he had taken it upon himself to make sure you felt comfortable—and he did so with relentless enthusiasm.

"Hey! Do you wanna check out the training grounds after class?" Yuji asked one afternoon, his voice full of energy as usual. "I could show you some of my moves, and maybe you could show me what you’ve got!"

You smiled politely, nodding. "Sure, sounds good," you said, though your mind drifted to the fact that you hadn’t had a moment alone in days. Not that Yuji was unpleasant, but his constant presence had started to feel a bit… overwhelming.

During those few days, Yuji had been like a shadow, always around, always talking. He showed you everything—where Gojo liked to disappear to, the best spots to train, even introducing you to his favorite movie, Human Earthworm.

That one had been… interesting, to say the least. You’d sat through the whole thing with a tight-lipped smile, nodding along as Yuji excitedly explained each ridiculous plot point. But truth be told, you found the movie more than a little icky. The thought of saying that out loud, however, seemed like it would crush Yuji’s spirits, so you kept it to yourself.

Now, as the days passed, it had become clear that Yuji was spending more time with you than with Nobara and Megumi. The two of them had even made jokes about it.

"Looks like you’ve been replaced," Nobara had teased Megumi earlier that morning, crossing her arms and giving a knowing smirk. "Yuji’s got a new best friend."

Megumi had just shrugged, as stoic as ever. "It’s not like he was ever that quiet around us, but now… it’s a bit much, don’t you think?"

But to Yuji, spending all his time with you just felt right. He wasn’t even fully aware of how much he had gravitated toward you; it just happened. Whether it was showing you around the school, helping you with assignments, or introducing you to his favorite snacks, Yuji had become your constant companion.

One day, while walking through the courtyard, Yuji beamed at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I don’t know if I’ve said it yet, but I’m really glad you came to Jujutsu Tech. It’s been… different, in a good way, y’know?"

You chuckled softly, trying to match his enthusiasm. "Yeah, it’s been nice. I’m starting to feel more comfortable here."

That made Yuji’s grin widen. "Good! ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere! If you ever need anything, I’m here, okay?" His voice had a hint of something deeper, something that almost bordered on possessive, but his tone remained cheerful enough for you to brush it off.

"Thanks, Yuji. I appreciate it." You smiled back, though a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if his constant hovering would ever let up. Still, his heart was in the right place, and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for space—not when he looked so genuinely happy to be around you.

Yuji’s grin stayed plastered on his face as the two of you continued walking through the courtyard. He shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing over at you every few seconds like he was making sure you were still there. “You know,” he started, his voice more casual now, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe after class, we could catch another movie. I’ve got a list of my favorites—ones I think you’ll really like.”

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, remembering the last time. “Another one? I’m still recovering from Human Earthworm.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay, maybe that one was a bit much for a first pick. But I swear, the others are better! Way less icky, promise.”

"Sure, I’m game," you agreed, though you mentally prepared yourself for whatever bizarre film he had in store next. Yuji’s excitement was contagious, and despite your reservations, you couldn’t say no to him. His energy was something you’d come to expect, and part of you didn’t mind indulging him.

Yuji’s face lit up. "Great! I’ll pick a good one this time, I swear! It’ll be something you actually like." His gaze softened for a moment as he added, "I want you to have fun, y’know? Since you’ve been spending all your time with me… I don’t want to, like, bore you or anything."

You looked at him, a little surprised by his sudden concern. "You’re not boring, Yuji," you reassured him, offering a warm smile. "I appreciate you showing me around and everything. It’s been… nice having someone like you around."

His eyes seemed to brighten at that, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Really? That’s… that’s great!” He practically beamed at you, looking like a puppy who’d just been given the best compliment of his life. “I was kinda worried, y’know? That maybe I was�� uh… hanging around too much. But if you don’t mind, then I guess it’s all good!”

You hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Yeah, it’s fine. You’re just being helpful."

“Exactly!” he said, his voice picking up again with enthusiasm. “I just wanna help! I mean, I know being new here can be tough, so if I can make it easier for you, then I’m all in.”

As he talked, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you a bit longer than usual, like he was soaking up every word you said. There was something more in his gaze, something intense, but it was masked by his usual cheerfulness.

Before you could dwell on it, Yuji clapped his hands together. “Alright, so it’s a movie night then! I’ll grab some snacks, and we’ll meet up after class. You’re gonna love it, trust me!”

"Sounds like a plan," you said, trying to match his excitement, though a small part of you wondered just how long this constant attention would last. But as Yuji bounced beside you, clearly thrilled at the idea of spending more time together, you decided to push the thought aside.

At least for now.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few months later, Yuji entered the classroom, a bright grin on his face as usual. He was in a good mood—he always was when he knew he’d get to spend the day with you. These past months had been incredible for him. You two had grown closer, and he’d spent nearly every waking moment with you.

But as he walked in, something stopped him in his tracks. Across the room, you were standing with Nobara, her arms wrapped around you in a tight hug. A little further away, Megumi was shaking your hand, his expression calm but respectful.

Yuji’s brow furrowed. What was going on? His heart gave an uncomfortable lurch, and he felt the familiar knot of jealousy coil in his chest. Why are they so close to you? Nobara's arms around you, Megumi's hand in yours—he didn't like it. But he forced himself to keep a smile on his face as he made his way over.

“Hey!” Yuji called out, his voice slightly too cheerful as he approached the group. “What’s going on here?” He tried to keep his tone light, but the jealousy simmering beneath the surface was hard to hide. He clenched his fists at his sides, making sure to smile as if everything was fine. But inside, a storm was brewing.

You turned to face him, and Yuji’s stomach dropped when he saw the look on your face. There was a hint of sadness in your eyes, something he didn’t quite understand. He could feel his heart racing, a nervous energy starting to fill him as he waited for your answer.

“Yuji, I…” you started, your voice softer than usual. “I’m going back to the USA. I’ve decided that I’ve learned enough here, and it’s time for me to head home.”

Yuji felt like the ground had just been ripped out from beneath him. His heart clenched painfully, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He tried to keep the smile on his face, but it faltered as your words sunk in.

“You’re… leaving?” he asked, his voice cracking despite his efforts to keep it steady. “But… why? You were doing great here. You don’t have to go…”

You smiled gently, your expression filled with understanding but also finality. “Yeah, but I think it’s time. I’ve learned a lot, and I’ve enjoyed my time here, but… it’s time to go back.”

Yuji felt something inside him break, like a small piece of himself had been shattered. He tried to speak, to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he stood there, staring at you, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of it all.

"But… what about… us?" he finally asked, his voice barely a whisper. His mind flashed through the memories of the time you'd spent together—every laugh, every smile, every moment he’d spent at your side. He couldn’t imagine Jujutsu Tech without you. He didn’t want to. You can't just leave. Not now. Not when I…

You sighed, your expression soft. “I’ll still keep in touch. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again. This isn’t goodbye forever.”

But to Yuji, it felt like it. He could feel his heart sinking, a hollow ache spreading through his chest. He forced a smile, nodding as if he understood. “Yeah… yeah, of course. I mean, I’m happy for you,” he said, though his voice sounded distant to his own ears.

Nobara, still beside you, gave Yuji a sympathetic glance. “Hey, don’t be so down. They’ll visit, right? It’s not like we’re losing them completely.”

But to Yuji, it felt like losing everything.

“I’ll… I’ll catch up with you later,” Yuji mumbled, backing away before anyone could see the cracks forming in his usually bright demeanor. He turned and quickly left the room, the weight of your departure pressing down on him harder with each step.

As he walked down the hall, the reality hit him all at once. You were leaving. And no matter how much time you’d spent together, no matter how close you’d become, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Yuji walked aimlessly through the hallways, his mind a chaotic swirl of emotions. Every step felt heavier than the last, each breath more labored. He couldn’t believe it. You were leaving. The reality of it crushed him with an intensity he hadn’t anticipated. He replayed every moment of your time together, each smile and laugh, trying to convince himself that it had all meant something.

As he stood at a crossroads in his thoughts, one realization cut through the fog of his anguish—he couldn’t imagine his life without you. The time you had spent together wasn’t just a fleeting connection; it had grown into something deeper, something he couldn’t simply let go.

In his mind, you were his. All the moments, all the time you’d spent together, it couldn’t have meant nothing. You have to be his, Yuji thought desperately. You have to stay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After school, he walked with purpose, his resolve firm. He knew where you were—your dorm room. He was going to see you, to make sure you knew how much you meant to him, how he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

As he approached your dorm, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. He needed to talk to you, to make you understand how important you were to him, to convince you that leaving wasn’t an option.

The door was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open, stepping inside. The room was quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of your belongings. You were sitting by your desk, going through some papers, seemingly lost in thought.

Yuji took a moment to collect himself, standing in the doorway as he looked at you. The sight of you in your dorm room, surrounded by your things, made his heart ache even more. He took another step forward, his voice trembling but filled with determination.

“Hey,” he started, his tone softer than he intended. “Can we talk?”

You looked up from your desk, surprised to see Yuji standing in your doorway. His face was a mix of determination and vulnerability that immediately caught your attention. You nodded, setting aside the papers and gesturing for him to come in.

“Sure, Yuji. What’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the apprehension you felt.

Yuji stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His eyes were intense, and there was a desperation in his expression that you hadn’t seen before. “I… I just wanted to talk about what you said earlier,” he began, his voice wavering slightly. “About you leaving.”

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt as you met his gaze. “Yuji, I’ve made up my mind. It’s time for me to go back home. I’ve learned a lot here, and I think it’s best for me.”

Yuji shook his head, his eyes pleading. “No, you don’t understand. You can’t just leave. Not like this.”

“Why not?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation grounded. “It’s my decision, Yuji. It’s what I think is best for me.”

“But… what about us?” Yuji said, stepping closer. “All the time we’ve spent together—doesn’t that mean anything to you? Doesn’t it matter that we’ve grown so close?”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of his words. “Of course it matters. But sometimes, we have to make tough choices. This is mine.”

Yuji’s eyes filled with tears, and he took another step closer, his voice trembling. “I can’t… I can’t imagine my life without you. You mean so much to me. Every day with you has been… incredible. I don’t want to lose that.”

You looked away, feeling your resolve beginning to waver. “Yuji, I… I don’t know what to say.”

Yuji reached out and gently took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Please, don’t go. I need you here. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I’ve fallen in love with you.”

His confession hit you like a tidal wave, and you tried to process the intensity of his words. Yuji’s grip tightened on your hand, and he pulled you closer. His eyes searched yours, filled with an earnest, almost desperate longing.

“Yuji,” you whispered, feeling the heat of his emotions. “This isn’t fair…”

“I know,” Yuji said, his voice breaking. “But I can’t help how I feel. I need you. I need you to stay.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours with a gentle, almost pleading touch. The kiss was soft, but there was an undeniable intensity in it—a mixture of his desperation and his deep affection. Your mind raced as you felt the warmth of his lips, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to disappear.

When he pulled back, his eyes were still locked on yours, filled with a hope that made your heart ache. “Please,” he repeated softly. “Stay with me.”

You felt your defenses crumble under the weight of his emotions. The kiss had stirred something inside you, a mix of affection and confusion. You were torn between your decision and the impact Yuji’s words—and actions—had on you.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay, Yuji. I’ll stay.”

Yuji’s face lit up with a mixture of relief and joy, his tears giving way to a bright, hopeful smile. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as if afraid you might slip away. The intensity of his embrace and the depth of his emotions were overwhelming, and you found yourself caught up in the storm of his love and need.

As he held you, Yuji felt a fragile sense of victory, his heart still racing from the raw vulnerability he had shown. He had managed to sway you, to keep you by his side, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of what was fair.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you. “Okay, I’ll tell Gojo-sensei that I’m staying,” you said softly, trying to offer a sense of finality to your decision.

Yuji’s face lit up with unrestrained happiness. He practically glowed with relief, his eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and triumph. “Really? That’s… that’s amazing!” he exclaimed, his voice full of gratitude and relief. He wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned in, his face pressing against your neck in a gesture of affection and possessiveness.

You felt the warmth of his body against yours, his embrace both comforting and confining. It was clear how much this meant to him, how desperate he had been to keep you here. You reached for your phone, trying to maintain your composure as you dialed Gojo’s number.

As you waited for Gojo to pick up, Yuji’s nuzzling became more insistent. His breath tickled your neck, and his grip tightened, almost as if he were afraid you might slip away at any moment. The closeness of his body made it hard to focus on anything but him.

Gojo’s voice came through the phone, interrupting the moment. “Hey, [Your Name], what’s up?”

“Gojo-sensei,” you began, your voice wavering slightly as you tried to sound composed. “I’ve decided to stay here. I want to continue my training at Jujutsu Tech.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Gojo responded with a note of surprise. “Oh? That’s… unexpected. Are you sure? I thought you were set on leaving.”

“Yes,” you said, more firmly now. “I’ve thought it over and decided it’s best for me to stay.”

“Alright,” Gojo said, his tone accepting though still a bit puzzled. “If that’s what you want, then I’m glad to hear it. I’ll let everyone know.”

You ended the call and set your phone down, feeling Yuji’s embrace tightening even more. He seemed to be in a state of bliss, his head resting against your shoulder as he let out a contented sigh.

“You have no idea how happy I am,” Yuji murmured, his voice muffled by your neck. “I was so scared you’d leave. I couldn’t… I couldn’t bear it.”

As you stood there, feeling Yuji’s warmth enveloping you, a shiver ran down your spine. A small part of you was uneasy, a nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. But the intense emotion Yuji was showing you, combined with the sudden shift in your plans, made it hard to focus on anything but the present moment.

What you didn’t realize, however, was that Yuji had taken steps to ensure that you couldn’t leave if you wanted to. While you were making your decision, he had discreetly taken your passport and any other important documents you might need to travel. His love for you had driven him to secure you in ways that you hadn’t yet discovered.

For Yuji, this wasn’t just about convincing you to stay. In his mind, you were his, and he had done what he felt was necessary to make sure you would never leave. His embrace, his contentment, and his possessiveness were all part of a plan to keep you close, ensuring that no matter what, you would remain by his side forever.

[kissagii]

it's finals season, and nishinoya desperately needs a savior

cw: gender neutral reader, 2k words, reader is a bit of a nerd and noya is smitten, both are a little dense, i didn't proofread this nearly enough.

Nishinoya Yuu cannot fail high school. At least, not if he wants to go to the Tokyo training camp and meet the funny guys from Nekoma again. As it stands, the only obstacles between Noya and going to camp are the steadily approaching final exams - exams that he hasn’t spent nearly enough time studying for.

That’s how he found himself here: not-so-casually asking (read: begging) for help studying.

“But I can’t fail these exams!” He half-yells, smacking his hands dramatically onto your desk, “I’m too cool to fail! And I want to go to camp!”

You sigh, not thrilled to have the libero drawing so much attention to you, especially in the middle of the school day. But his pleas are pitiful - and bound to get annoying if left unanswered for too long - so your only real option is to offer whatever assistance he needs.

“Sure, I’ve got time, what do you need?” You offer, hoping desperately that you sound relatively nonchalant. You had grown fond of him as first-year classmates, and now being in separate classes made any opportunity to spend time with him one worth taking. Even if it ended in studying with Nishinoya Yuu, a man not exactly known for being studious. Loudness aside, he's a good guy: caring (at times overbearingly so), observant (but never when he needs to be), and unendingly passionate about his interests (and very little else). And undeniably attractive, though you’d never tell him that. It would go straight to his head.

His face lights up as soon as the offer is made. “You’re amazing! An angel sent from the heavens to help me go to camp!”

“Yeah, yeah, alright, now what subjects are giving you the most trouble?” You say, heart fluttering at the subtle words of appreciation. 

“Math. And physics, but that’s basically just math but more evil. Oh, and English. And history. And writing.” His expression shifts from joy to a pout with each subject, brows knitting together as he realizes just how inept (and uncool, he’s probably thinking) he is.

“Noya, you just listed every subject, that’s way too much,” You laugh, “But I’ll see what I can do. Give me a day to prepare?”

“Just try not to miss me too much!” Noya says as he jumps excitedly, waving to you as he walks backward out of the room. He waves the entire way until he walks back-first into the doorframe, letting out a squawk of surprise and continuing proudly like nothing ever happened.

This boy is going to be the death of you.

Exactly 24 hours after his first visit, Noya bounds into your classroom and over to your desk again. Despite expecting his visit this time, you’re caught off guard by his punctuality and higher-than-usual energy. 

“It is I, Nishinoya Yuu, Guardian Deity of Karasuno!” He announces, dropping into a neighboring desk.

“Yeah, I know that, Noya.”

“Hmph, but it’s more fun to do that,” He huffs, poking at the papers you have lined up on your desk, “What’s all this? For me?”

You stack up all the papers, creating a thick packet, and hand them to him. He loses interest the moment he realizes that the ridiculous-looking stack is indeed for him, mortified by the concept of having to do all of that. He pays minimal attention as you explain everything he’s supposed to do - something about the order of the subjects versus the tests, the problem difficulties, and suggested pacing - instead choosing to focus on something far more interesting. 

The way certain subjects make your eyes light up more than others. The way you tilt your body to face him as you talk. The way your lips move with each word. How much he wishes he could grab your face and kiss you.

And, ultimately, that which brings his attention back - the reward system. Your method of motivating him to put effort into his practice.

“The rewards are indicated with symbols, the key is at the back, and you don’t have to take any reward you don’t want. I’ll be here to check your work and help you with the harder ones, does that sound good? Oh, and no getting answers from your teammates. You’ll only get prizes for your own work.” 

“All this? really? These rewards better be good,” He sticks out his bottom lip, thumbing the papers, itching to flip straight to the back and see what he might have a chance at acquiring. 

You laugh, shooing him out of the chair he sits in, “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you’ll like one or two of them. Now go get working, deal with your prizes when you have an actual chance at earning them.”

“Hey! At least let me try to get motivated!” He whines, making a point to struggle to carry the twenty-or-so pages in his hands, “I might never forgive you for this!”

Though he acts offended, the moment he’s out of your sight his posture straightens and he hurries to his classroom. Only there does he set down the papers and fumble to the back, finding the Prize Key at the very end.

♤ - 1 sticker (assorted themes)

Who do you think he is? A first grader? Though he has to admit, the concept is cute.

♧ - Snack coupon

Now this, this is good - he could use them to barter with the team… if he could convince himself to not hoard them.

♢ - 10 minutes letting you show off at practice

Finally, you’ll come through on your promise of visiting him at practice!!

☆ - Bento Box

So you had been paying attention to how he always ogled your food during lunch hour. Oh, Tanaka is gonna be so jealous.

♡ - Kiss

He rereads the single word again. And again. He blows away nonexistent eraser shards; wipes the paper with his sleeve; traces his finger over the word. And still, there it is, inked directly onto the paper, completely intentional. Kiss.

Frantically he flipped through the packet, searching for the problem sets marked with a heart. Just what would he have to do to earn the sweetness of your lips against his? He’d do just about anything, really, he’d craved your affection since midway through first year.

Nishinoya Yuu would do anything to kiss you just once - even a physics problem so brutal even the most genius of his classmates might shy away from it.

“Ok, fess up, which one of you gave Noya answers to his study work?!” You shout, storming into Karasuno’s volleyball gym as the team begins their practice. The underclassmen’s confused stares hardly dent your frustration with the team and whichever of them was insolent enough to go directly against your request.

Ennoshita winces, smiling bashfully. “Well… I didn’t help him, exactly. He just told me to check his work and it was right, I didn’t give away any answers.”

Noya smiles proudly from across the gymnasium, “See! I’m perfectly capable of doing physics on my own!”

“Suga? Daichi? Is this true?” You ask, turning to the reliable third-years on the team, who you’re sure were there to witness Noya’s breakthrough.

“Mhm,” Suga nods, “And he went skipping to first period like a little girl.”

“I do not skip!” Noya insists.

The first years giggle amongst themselves, clearly amused by the dispute. Though, in their shoes, you probably would’ve laughed too.

“No, you were skipping,” Daichi adds bluntly. Noya’s jaw drops, insulted.

“I do not- Oh, fine, whatever, maybe I skipped a little. But see, I didn’t get answers from anyone, I solved the problem by myself! So therefore I deserve my reward!”

So maybe he did solve the problem on his own. So maybe he did spend all night working on that one near-impossible problem just to get the reward. So maybe he does want to kiss you.

“Alright, alright, I accept it, you solved the problem yourself. Good job. Call me when you’re done with practice, you’ll get your reward then.” You say resignedly, turning to leave the club room.

“No, don’t make me wait so long! I gave you the problem at lunch, you’re so mean to me!” Noya calls after you.

As you leave, a redheaded first-year (Hintata, if you correctly remembered Noya's ramblings about his teammates) whispers to you: “I think he’s in love with you.”

Thank the heavens that your back was turned, because your flustered expression would’ve made your crush on the libero painfully obvious to all in the room. 

But oh how you hoped that first year was right.

Only minutes after the end of practice, Noya found you behind the gymnasium. Still sweaty and haphazardly changed, he jogged to you excitedly. 

“I’m here now! Now don’t tell me I sat on the sidelines through morning practice for nothing, Daichi was ready to kill me,” He said, breathing slightly heavier than usual but still energetic.

“Have you just been pretending to be stupid this whole time?” You ask, “I spent days making that problem for a different study group, days, doing everything I could to make it impossible. I gave it to you as a joke, more than anything, I didn’t think you’d actually solve it.” 

Noya inhales sharply, looking down to the ground. “So, the part about… the kiss… was that a joke too?” He begins stepping back, feeling a fool for getting his hopes up so high. Frustrated and confused, he begins running his mouth like he always does, muttering about being a fool, being hopeless, the evilness of your schemes, and having wasted his energy and time in search of something he would never get.

“Noya, shut up,” You say, but he pays you no mind. “Yuu!” 

The one lesson he needs to learn is how to quiet down, and you know he won’t learn it on his own. You grab him by the cheeks and pull his lips to yours, cutting him off mid-sentence, kissing him right there behind the gymnasium as night descends upon the city. When you part he remains speechless, cocoa-brown eyes darting between your eyes and lips.

“It was a joke because I didn’t think you’d want it,” You murmur, letting a hand slide into his sweaty but somehow still soft hair. “If I had known this was what you wanted I would’ve let you kiss me as many times as you wanted.” 

Noya leans into your hand, as if making sure that you’re actually there, actually touching him. Gently you bring your foreheads to touch, a silent reminder that you are indeed real. “You're more than just a friend to me, Yuu, and in every moment that you’re silent I’ll remind you.”

“Ehehe, guess I’ll just never speak again,” He laughs cheekily, stealing another kiss, quick and playful. 

You pull back, but don’t move your hand away. What an idiot, snapping from speechless to silly in such a quick moment, and absolutely desperate for affection to boot. And yet this dramatic idiot had you absolutely smitten and wanting to kiss him over and over until evening turned to night turned to morning.

“You didn’t earn that one, Yuu! I guess I’ll have to cut your showoff time rewards by half,” You tease, poking the tip of his nose with your finger. It’s a ridiculous facade on your part - he’d never have to earn a kiss from you, just ask and you’d gladly give it to him. But the way his face twisted yet again, horrified by your mock threat, was too cute to pass up.

“Half?!” He scoffs, “I guess I’ll have to be extra flashy for my sunshine!” 

“Sunshine? Since when am I your sunshine?”

“I dunno, since now? Come on, it’s cute!”

Sunshine it is, then. Though if either of the two of you is the sunshine, you’re sure it must be him, because his giddy grin is easily the most beautiful thing you’ve seen in your life.

:)

[ohhiimweird]

The Traffic Light Trio Except they Simp for You

AKA MK, Mei, and Redson crush headcanons

Characters: MK, Redson, Mei

Reader: Gender Neutral

Relationship: Romantic

Content Warnings: None! :)

------------------------------------

MK

bro is a simp. he would be a simp. look at this boy and tell me he is not

Mei is his wingman, obviously. and she does her best

AKA, she has brought up the idea of throwing rocks at your window, MK serenading you while Mei carries the boombox

Whenever you enter Pigsy's shop, MK will be all "Guys! Guys! Be cool! It's them." and he's the only one losing his shit

the gang is surprised that you're the only one who doesn't know about MK's crush on you

he'll sometimes draw you and write your name with a bunch of hearts around it or himself protecting you from a demon

he gushes about you almost constantly. it can be about any interaction he had with you. he will talk to the nearest person about it

Wukong supports it but he's mostly confused but that's fine

father figure approves

will try to show off his powers in front of you

if he ends up admitting his feelings, he's got a flower that reminds him of you and y'all are meeting somewhere so he can do the thing. Mei is probably watching in case everything goes wrong

when you accept, he's so fucking happy and it takes everything in him not to kiss you the second you say yes

Mei

much like how she'd be MK's wingman, MK is her wingman

She'll show you off to her chat if she's streaming. they'll make a few simp comments about her crush but she acts cool and brushes it off

on the inside, she is worried you might find out and is surprised that you don't

she'll take you for rides on her little dragon bike around the city

you have to go to work? there she is! need a ride to the grocery store? mei knows your location

NOOO it's not because she likes the feeling of your arms wrapped around her while she's driving you around

she's a little bit more upfront about her feelings, but she still has her and MK go through stupid shenanigans to get your attention

she's a little worried about her parents not being approving of you because dragon clan stuff

but I think because of the episode with the dragon sword, her parents would come around

when she wants to tell you, Mei would try to disguise it as you two hanging out as friends

MK and Sandy are following you two around while you're both having fun

Then, Mei takes you somewhere a little more remote and admits her feelings. When you say yes, she throws herself onto you and is the happiest Dragon Horse Girl in the world

Redson

this motherfucker is a tsundere through and through

This time, they have two wingmen, MK and Mei. but she doesn't like it

he'll try to shoo them away every time they make a comment about him making a move on you

Redson will bring you the finest jewelry in the world if you wear it

if you don't he'll make little trinkets for you

either way, he's giving you gifts since I see that as his love language

each gift redson gives you has a seal on it, showing anyone that tries anything with you that you're under the demon bull family's protection

If you notice something, cue the flames

she will deny everything that has to do with their crush on you

Once he confesses, that's when he'll ask MK and Mei for any kind of help, and they're on thin fucking ice already

She brings you another piece of jewelry, however, this one is a bit grander than the others. He treats it like a marriage proposal even though they're reminded several times that you have to date someone first before you marry them

You accept it though, and that's all that matters to him

[stop-talking]

Wait imagine listening to music with clapton while in detention.. like sharing earbuds with him while yall sit in silence🫢 and then a cringe song comes on at the wrong time LMAO

BLESS YOU anon this is so cute

Saturday School

Clapton Davis x gender-neutral reader

Word count: 2k

Tags: fluff, a little cringe, romantic tension, older Clapton & younger reader

------------------------------------------------

You'd managed to get through nearly 12 years of schooling without getting sentenced to detention.

Unfortunately, today resets your streak. Only a measly two weeks at this shitty school and you've already gotten yourself into trouble. Just your luck, huh?

God damnit. Surely, this is going to be absolute hell. I mean, it isn't even a regular after-school detention, but Saturday school.

As you take a seat in the meticulously-arranged circle of desks in the library, you spare a glance at the other students. You vaguely recognize some of them... the goth chick looks familiar, at least.

They all seem disinterested, so you copy their aloof attitudes and lean back in your chair. Yeah... that seems right. Just do what everyone else does, and maybe you'll survive this.

Suddenly, the door bursts open and slams against the wall. You turn to look, and see the principal himself storm through, dragging a boy in by the ear.

Oh great. Finally, someone you recognize, and it's motherfucking Clapton Davis.

"It's not fair! I don't even HAVE Saturday school!" He whines, wincing as he's roughly shoved towards an empty desk. The desk right next to you. Wonderful.

"Should have thought about that before coming to school on a Saturday." The older man growls, giving him what he probably thinks is an intimidating look. Honestly, he just looks silly.

Clapton groans, slinking back in the desk and letting out an exaggerated huff that blows his bangs around.

God, can't that guy just be normal? You only just transferred here and already you know almost everything about him. Not by choice... obviously. He's just somehow the center of attention wherever he goes. Even in goddamn Saturday school.

"And as for the rest of you..." The principal continues his rant, glaring at the small circle of students. No, prisoners.

"Just remember. I have eyes and ears everywhere. EVERYWHERE."

With one final less-than-intimidating-glare, the man stomps out, closing the door behind him. Is that it? He's just going to leave you here in a roomful of delinquents with nothing but a vague threat to keep you all in check?

You glance around at the other students, but no one says anything. Hm. Maybe that's normal. You have no idea, so you just lay your head down on your desk, determined to get through this mess as simply as possible.

Turns out, that sentiment might prove to be more challenging than you thought. You hear a quiet "thud", and shift slightly, peeking an eye to your left to see what the noise was. Are you crazy, or does Clapton look... closer?

Nope. Not crazy. With another soft thud, he scoots his desk over again, inching it closer to yours.

"Pssst." He whispers, extending a leg out to nudge your foot. He's less than a yard from you at this point. Though you can't see the other students with your head buried in your arms, you're sure they've noticed. Damnit. Why did this jackass have to draw attention to you?

"What do you want?" You grumble, shifting on the desk so he can see your face, but still trying to stay hidden from the other students.

"I haven't seen you around before. You new?" He gives you a sheepish grin, eyes flickering with mischief as he takes you in.

"Yeah." You respond dismissively, giving him a flat stare. Please just pick on someone else, Clapton Davis.

"Cool, cool..." He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling.

You watch as he restlessly taps his feet and tries to balance on two legs of his chair. He's so high-strung. Like a chihuahua. Small like one too. Hah. The thought makes you smile, which he unfortunately notices and takes as a sign of interest. Damnit.

"So... what are you in for?" He asks, treating the exchange like you're two inmates. Honestly, it's a fair comparison.

"I, uh... Accidentally lit my teacher on fire."

With a crash, Clapton tips back in his chair completely, hitting the floor. Hard.

"You WHAT?"

The sudden noise makes you jolt upright, and you can feel a blush creeping up your neck as the other students turn to stare.

"Accidentally!" You protest weakly, hanging your head in shame as Clapton scrambles to his feet.

"How the fuck do you 'accidentally' set someone on fire?" A dark-haired boy across from you scoffs, and a few other people voice similar questions.

"Okay so... Mr Jones's sleeve caught fire while giving me a demonstration with the bunsen burner..." You start, taking a deep breath and staring down at your desk to calm your nerves.

"I panicked and doused it with a vial of the closest liquid... apparently an extremely flammable liquid..."

"Is THAT why he went home early Friday?" A blonde girl asks, letting out a shrill laugh, like that of a hyena.

"Woah. Sick." The goth-looking girl just nods in approval before lying her head back down on the desk.

Before you can give any kind of response, you feel your desk jostle as Clapton's slams into it. Apparently he'd taken the initiative to get a little closer while everyone was distracted by your story.

"So, Grizzly Lake High has a new pyromaniac, huh?" He teases, propping his elbow up on the desk and resting his chin on his fist as he grins stupidly at you.

"New?" You scoff. "You mean you had an old one?"

"Hey, there's a lot of weirdoes here." He shrugs.

"Yeah... I can tell."

He pouts and tries to feign offence as you pointedly look him up and down. God, what a stupid fucking face.

"You're not in any of my classes, are you, newbie?"

"No. I'm a Junior."

"Ah. Well, maybe we'll have some together next year."

"Next year? Aren't you a Senior?"

"Yeah, but with the way my grades are looking..." He grimaces, shaking his head sadly.

"...you might be a Senior again next year?" You finish for him.

"Yeah."

"Bummer."

An awkward silence settles between the two of you, and Clapton starts to squirm, looking as if he wants to say something else.

"How'd you end up here? In Saturday school, I mean." You ask, if only to cut the tension. Not because you actually care.

"Oh." His face falls, clearly annoyed just thinking about it.

"Principal Verge confiscated my skateboard Friday... I was supposed to get it back at the end of the day, but I ended up getting detention... By the time I was done, he'd already left and locked It up in his office."

"Sooo... you came to steal it back?"

"Not steal! There's sometimes a few teachers here on weekends... I was just gonna ask one of them..." He mumbles, hanging his head.

"But stupid Verge caught me 'sneaking around' and threw me in Saturday school."

"Oh, so he just has it out for you, huh?" You tease.

"Exactly!" He hisses back, eyes wide with excitement.

"People just don't understand. I'm not a troublemaker... just unlucky."

Unlucky? He seems pretty damn lucky to you. Everyone likes Clapton Davis. Everyone but you, it seems.

"Pfft. Maybe you could try being quiet and sitting still for once." You muse, trying to hold back a smirk. He might be onto something though, honestly. He's a total trouble magnet... which is why you should probably just put your head back down and ignore him.

"Hey!" He pouts, feigning hurt as he reaches into his pocket.

"And to think, I was gonna offer to share..."

This piques your interest, and you lean closer to him, trying to get a glimpse of the object he's fiddling with under his desk. An iPhone. Great.

"Won't that just get you in more trouble?"

He rolls his eyes in return. "Look around. I'm not the only one."

Sure enough, when you look more closely at some of the other students... yep, at least half of them are on their phones. The way they slump over the desks sort-of hides it, but once you knew what to look for... damn. He's right.

"Why? What's even the point of Saturday school, then?" You're completely baffled by this revelation, shaking your head.

"What's the point of school at all?" He counters, shrugging and popping an earbud into his ear. His wired headphones are extremely tangled, but he offers you the other earbud anyways.

"So, wanna share?"

Damnit. You really shouldn't. But you hadn't brought your own phone, and fuck, that grin of his...

"Fine. What do you have on there?" You sigh and accept the earbud, scooting closer to him so it'll actually reach your ear. There's not much slack with how tangled they are, so the two of you are nearly cheek to cheek as you hunch in your seats and peer down at his phone.

"Here, I'll turn on my playlist."

He fiddles with the little phone, and you can feel his breath mixing with yours as he speaks. Eventually he gets some music playing, but you can hardly hear it over the beating of your own heart.

"What do you think? You like 90s stuff?" Clapton smiles warmly, turning to face you.

His smile is contagious, and you can't help but let your gaze flicker down to his lips... just for a moment. He's so close, his mouth just inches from your own.

"Uh, yeah. I-I mean, who doesn't?" You mumble lamely, feeling a familiar heat creep up your neck and tinge your cheeks. Fuck. He's not that cute, get yourself together!!

"I know, right?" Apparently that's the right answer, because he turns his attention back to the phone, scrolling through his playlist and pointing out his favorite songs.

His music taste isn't bad, actually. You find yourself nodding at his choices, and soon you begin to forget where you are. The other students fade into the background, and Saturday school starts to feel a little less grim.

That is, until the song changes and the vibe is completely thrown off. What the hell is this? Your brow furrows and you try to make out the nonsense lyrics.

Cat? I'm a kitty cat. And I dance dance dance And I dance dance dance Cat? I'm a kitty cat. And I dance dance dance And I dance dance dance

The lyrics repeat over and over, and Clapton nearly drops his phone in his scramble to change the song. In his rush, he gets his password wrong over and over, making it impossible to fix.

"Clapton, why the hell is this on your playlist?" You ask, putting a hand to your mouth in a failing attempt to stifle a giggle.

"I-it's catchy, alright??" He mumbles, still trying to change the song. He gets his password wrong for, like, the tenth time, and it locks him out of his phone for thirty seconds, leaving you both stuck with the nonsensical cat lyrics ringing in your ears.

You try to keep your composure, but when the man singing the song starts meowing, you completely lose it and throw yourself onto your desk in a fit of laughter.

Unfortunately for Clapton, you accidentally tug the headphone cord with you, unplugging it from his phone. As you bury your head in your arms and laugh uncontrollably, the silly cat song starts blasting out loud for the whole room to hear.

And he can't even do anything about it, because he's still locked out of his phone for the next 20 seconds.

"S-sorry!" He shouts, trying to cram his phone into his backpack to shut it up.

You can feel all eyes on the two of you, but this whole situation is so utterly ridiculous, you don't even mind the attention. A few other kids snicker, and you can't help but feel a little bad for him.

Your remorse fades as soon as the principal throws the door open, immediately turning his attention to you and Clapton.

"Both of you!" He roars, pointing an accusing finger. "Detention on Monday! And Tuesday!"

Damnit. You knew this boy was trouble, and yet...? As the cat song finally stops, you meet Clapton's gaze, a sheepish smile plastered across his face.

Maybe spending a little more time with him wouldn't be so bad.

------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Sorry if it wasn't fluffy enough...? I mean, the reader kind of hates him at first, and they don't even kiss... But the request was really funny, and I love putting Jhutch characters in awkward situations <3

Maybe I'll write a sequel? Probably not, though. Sorry it took so long to write, also. I wrote half of it and then let it sit in my drafts for weeks before writing the other half.

Hope y'all enjoyed, feel free to send in more requests!! I'll get to them eventually, even if it takes weeks. <3

[fictionalsownme]

More Than A Woman | wilford warfstache x gn!viewer / reader |

chapter one - "I've known you very well"

A/N: hi everyone!! I'm so excited to post this! Usually I spend a long time on the stuff I write but I wrote a good chunk of this in a feverish burst haha, I've been wanting to write for Wil and had such a clear idea of how I see him in my head for so long :)) This fic will probably be around 10 chapters~ish and progress will probably be a little slow but I'm also trying to get faster at my writing so I guess we'll see! Getting it down is always the hardest, then you spend a bit of time hating it, then the fixing can start! Anyway, I hope you guys like this, I love this dorky weirdo a lot for whatever reason, and I'd love to write for other egos too :) ((there might be a guest appearance or two in here in the last few chapters if plans don't change 👀)) hope you guys enjoy the first chapter at least! lmk 🥰! word count: 2.9k notes: reader is gender-neutral, similar to all of mark's stuff :) -- the title is just after the song! no pronouns or descriptors are used other than the occasional they/them. reader is the viewer (& district attorney) from wkm, adwm, ahwm, iswm, etc, but that won't come up until later. wmlw wilford. story will be mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort & angst, lots of romance and flirting! story is adapted from an idea I had for my self insert. we will get into some lore stuff (or at least my understanding of the lore 👀) and filling in gaps with headcannons, but it's mostly about wilford & reader and I'll try to explain as we go so don't worry about it too much if you don't know all of it. especially since I don't know if my understanding is always 100% accurate 👉👈 let's have fun yall! 💞

masterlist | AO3

The music playing softly over the convenience store speakers was pleasant, if slightly boring. Like elevator music— there only to help ease the passing of time. Your night shift would end soon, and the sky could be seen as it lightened more every minute through the windowed front of the building.

Other than that, the old store was quiet. Dusty. Pink and orange neon strips lined the walls near the ceiling. They overpowered the dated fluorescent lights, casting everything in a slightly peach haze. Like a dream. 

Different sections of the store were marked with neon too, the letters glowed against the wall denoting the drinks, the snacks, the hot food… You liked your little store. Even if the unyielding isolation of your work made you a bit… complacent. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly talked with someone.

The ice creams chilled your fingers through the wrappers as you pulled them from their box and slotted them into place. Even with the cold air of the freezer wafting over you, you could smell the cool summer air coming in the sliding front doors.

You liked to prop them open on dawns like these. The convenience store lights did draw in the occasional pestering bug, but they usually found their way out again before long. You did get a bat once. Albeit a little crazed and frantic, you were surprised to find it harmless. Maybe a little lost. Now that thing seemed like it would never leave. 

Refocusing on your task, you brushed your condensation-soaked fingers on your work apron, tied tight behind your neck and around your back, and shut the freezer door. 

The motion alert chimed a pleasant tune through the staticky old speakers as a customer entered the open doors from the street.

You called an automatic, “Welcome in~,” and went about straightening a shelf of snack bars and chocolate. You didn’t bother to look in their direction as you heard them make their way through the aisles.

“Pardon me,” said their strange, nearly British accent from beside you now. You turned to the source of the voice, the man who’d just walked in, and your eyes went to his outfit first. 

A silky-- almost sparkly in how it caught the light-- lavender shirt with mismatched buttons revealed expanses of his bare chest. It was paired with white bell-bottoms and a fake pink afro hanging half-off his head, about to fall off. He had olive skin and dark hair-- nearly black--, fluffy and sticking up every which way like hands had been running through it. Scruffy facial hair framed a thick mustache that tinted slightly pink where it turned up at the ends.

He looked… honestly, he looked ridiculous. But the 70s getup was fun, you supposed. And his eyes-- dark brown and monolid-- were handsome. Underneath all the… extra mess. You blinked, slowly, in a way that felt like waking up.

“Uh, hi. Are you coming from a costume party or something?” It was August, but you supposed it was never too early to start the spooky season. 

“Oh! Do you know of one? I do love a good costume. But no. Just the regular-sort. Just woke up from one.” He scanned the products near his head, grabbed a protein bar, sniffed the wrapper, guffawed, and put it back.

“You just woke up? Are you alright?”

“Oh, worry not, friend, this is normal for my level of reverie! I’m not even hungover!” He laughed, his hands going to his hips.

You stared at him.

“I was just looking for something to gnaw on! To nourish myself before I’m on my way.” His eyes were still traveling all over, not really seeing you.

Now in theory, a strange man coming in at this hour, acting even stranger, with his clothes disheveled? You knew you should be on your way to your safe space behind the counter to get him checked out and exiting the store as fast as possible. But there was something about him… 

Something you couldn’t place…

Instead you raised your eyebrows and relaxed against the cooler door. “Uh, I guess that depends on what kind of food you like,” You offered. After a moment, his gaze landed on you and he seemed to finally take you in. Your uniform, your crossed arms, your patient expression, your features. His face scrunched into confusion.

A moment passed, staring at each other like that. “Your shirt’s looking a little rough, you know.”

“Have we met, friend?” He asked as he began to fix his buttons. 

You watched passively as more of his chest came into view. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind your blatant staring. You weren’t sure why you were staring, or what you were feeling as you did so. 

You weren’t gawking at his abs or anything-- well,-- not that he didn’t have abs. He did, sort of. The expanse of his chest and abdomen were tight with toned muscle. He definitely wasn’t lacking abs, anyway. Either way… this was about something different. 

You wondered for a moment if a vague familiarity was what you were picking up on, but quickly dismissed it.

“I feel like I’d remember meeting you.” 

You realized with a start that your comment could be seen as flirtatious, and added quickly, “Just, you know-- generally.”

But he just hummed and spun on his heels, turning away. You sighed and found yourself in-step behind him, hands in your uniform pockets. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Well, either way!” He started, his energy returning tenfold. “Let's see what this cute little shop has to eat!” 

For some reason, you asked, “Do you have money?” 

He froze. “Er, no~. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind what?”

“Well, spotting me of course! Let’s just say I owe you one, eh friend?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Thought so.” 

Thought so? Maybe you did know him… 

It was your turn to squint in displaced confusion. “What’s your name?”

His voice came from behind you and you spun around, your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. When did he sneak around you? 

He bent over and twirled his hand, a flamboyant bow finally knocking the afro off his head. “Wilford Warfstache, at your service.”

“That’s your name?” 

He righted himself. “For now.” It suited him well enough, but for some reason it sounded misplaced.

… But no, either way, you definitely hadn’t met him before. You didn’t know many people in the first place, let alone someone so eccentric.

Still, you were curious about him. Curious about his personality and who he was. He felt sort of like a puzzle waiting to be solved. And so far, despite his quirks, despite how admittedly weird you’d also been acting, he’d been friendly. You couldn’t say the staring and prodding questions were too in-character for you. At least not when it came to customers. 

His hair looked softer without the wig to weigh it down-- parted at his brow and long enough to fluff over the tips of his ears and end where his neck met his spine. You reached down to scoop the curly mop of synthetic hair up off the floor.

“Where did you get this thing?”

He hummed something like ‘I don’t know’, his eyes sort of wide like a clueless puppy’s. 

“What, you just kind of have it?”

“Yea’p.”

You squinted at him, a smirk forming on your lips. “How about I do you a favor and throw this away?”

He shrugged, hummed an ‘alright’ sound, and turned away. 

“Oh no, I was kidding! God, here--!” You had to grab his wrist to stop him from wandering off further and placed the pink afro in his hand.

You had just been trying to tease him, but now you just felt bad. “Look, Wilford, you want something to eat? We have to throw the hot food out every night. You can have a taquito or a slice of pizza or something if you want.”

Then he was frozen again-- staring down at where your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Your eyes followed his gaze down and then you were staring too.

A moment passed. Then two. Finally, you let go and crossed your arms again, tucking your hands away where they couldn’t embarrass you again.

“... Fuck, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that.” You did your best to clear your throat.

But he was still stuck there. He blinked a few times and his gaze met your eyes, his brows gathering together. 

“Wh-What did you say your name was, friend?” He seemed so… serious all of sudden. So dire.

You hadn’t mentioned it yet, but told him with a hesitant voice. 

His expression blanked, eyes widening. He brought his arm, the offending afro in tow, to his chest, touching his wrist where you’d held it.

“Oh…” 

You raised your brows and asked softly, “Sorry, do you know me, then?”

“Hm?” And he blinked like his mind was clearing, like he’d forgotten you were there. 

He cleared his throat, smiled-- ear to ear-- his mustache lopsided like a cartoon. “Oh-- nevermind about that! Some food would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

His eyes were sparkling. 

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing fancy. Here,” And you walked over towards the front counter. Wilford trailed close behind you-- holding onto the wig in his hands like a school kid holding a lunch box-- his gaze wandering over the store again like he hadn’t seen it the first time.

You arrived at the hot foods section, a glassed-off section of day-old food over heated rods. You shrugged. “If you have a sensitive stomach, maybe don’t,” you started, “but it’s mostly fine to be honest. I eat it if I’m in a pinch, you know.”

You hopped up to sit on the counter, your legs facing Wilford, and leaned back to reach around and grab the tongs waiting there. You straightened and clapped them together twice. You offered him a smile. “What’ll it be, Mr. Warfstache?” Then a quieter, “--that was your last name right?”

“Do you gravitate towards anything yourself?”

“Can’t go wrong with a slice of pizza, I guess. Even here.”

His smile grew sort of soft. “Then that. If you please.”

“You got it.”

You leaned over again and served up the slice of moderately warm and slightly greasy pizza on a brown napkin and passed it off to him. 

“Much obliged.”

You got one for yourself too, and when you righted and your eyes found Wilford again, he was sitting in a retro-style diner chair you’d never seen before-- his feet against the edge of the counter beside you.

You couldn’t help the surprised laughter that choked out of you. “Wha-- where did you even find that?”

The chair teetered on its two legs as he leaned precariously back, tilting his head at your question. The pink wig sat in his lap and you couldn’t help thinking it looked like some weird dog.

“Well, there’s no need to worry! I’m only borrowing it, I’m not a barbarian.”

And you just knew you weren’t getting more of an answer than that.

“So who even are you?” You asked as he took a bite of the pizza, somehow pulling all the cheese right off the top in one piece. He pouted down at the offending mozzarella, slurping it into his mouth and swallowing it. “Do you live around here?”

“Mm. I don’t really live anywhere. Much more the exploring-- ever on the move-- type.”

He was so expressive. It really felt like talking to an old cartoon come-to-life or something. You turned to lean against the side of the glass cover, swinging your legs so your feet rested on the counter, not far from his still against the edge. You weren’t touching at all, but you were surprised at how quickly the two of you fell into a casual-- albeit timidly curious-- rhythm. 

“So what do you do?” And you began to eat too.

He beamed, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’m an interviewer! Warfstache Tonight, that’s what my show is called! It’s quite a professional endeavor!”

You smiled and hummed around your bite of pizza, impressed. That actually explained a lot. And it suited him nicely enough. “Sounds pretty glamorous.”

“And what about you? You can’t just be a convenience store clerk!” He seemed so affronted by the idea. Crinkling his nose, dropping his voice an octave. “How dreadfully boring.”

You winced. “‘Just a convenience store clerk?’ Ouch, Wilford…” You couldn’t help frowning down at your slice. 

 “Oh! No no, pardon me!” He let the chair fall back to four legs, waving the idea way with a panicked hand. “I only meant that… this isn't what truly stirs your passions, is it? Do you do anything at your leisure? For work or just… something you enjoy?”

You squinted at him. But you didn’t really think he was trying to insult you. And he wasn’t wrong. It just… wasn’t always the most fun when someone pointed it out. Especially like that. 

You sighed, fidgeting as you considered his question. “Not right now… This job keeps me pretty occupied. But you know, it’s not too bad. It keeps me, I don’t know, grounded I guess.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded, taking another bite. “I do hope you get more opportunities soon, then.” He said, surprisingly grounded.

You looked at him. “... Thanks.” And you meant it.

“And… my apologies for the earlier, uh, miswording.”

 “That’s fine… I’d be curious to hear more about your show, though! Have you interviewed anyone interesting or anything?”

A beat. A sort of tiredness settled into his shoulders and he peered up at you. “The odd gold-star guest did wander in from time to time. I’m not sure if my skills were quite deserving of them at the time.”

Was that… shame?

“The truth is, I couldn’t quite live up to the role. I--” He laughed, pained. He cleared his throat. “I’m taking a bit of a break from show business for the moment.”

Ah. So that’s what happened. You offered him a sympathetic smile. “To party? That’s probably why you don’t have any money, Wilford. And why you have to rely on shitty convenience store food?” You held up your greasy napkin like it was evidence.

“Now don’t underestimate the power of a good party! And this food is fine, I’m grateful for it,” He crumpled the now empty napkin and gestured wildly with it. “The truth is I get by just fine. I’m just not sure what else I should be doing.”

You looked out the front windows. The sky was getting lighter. The timer marking the end of your shift would go off any minute.

So maybe that’s why he’d been asking you about your passions. You felt bad for him. He was strange, to be sure. And a little hard to follow. But he was also… sweet. He had a softness about him.

And still… there was that feeling that hadn’t disappeared since meeting him. Like… like your soul recognized him. Maybe not deeply. But distantly. Like you’d met him in a dream. It was a ridiculous notion. Ridiculous didn’t seem beyond his territory.

You turned, legs coming down from the counter once again. You leaned forward, your hand landing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. His silk shirt was soft under your fingers. His eyes jumped up to yours and you looked down at him with a smile. 

“You liked doing your show right? You want to be an interviewer?”

He nodded slowly. His lashes fluttered. 

“Then that’s what you should be doing! You just have to try again!” You shrugged with one shoulder. “It might suck a lot. And you might fail again. But pick yourself back up. Keep going. I’m sure you can do it if you keep at it and think outside the box, you know. Failing only means failing if you stop.”

You leaned back, your hand sliding away. He stared at you.

“That’s what the rest of us do, anyway. Honestly, maybe you should do your show online! You know, livestream it or something. I’m sure you’d find your own way to it.”

Slowly, a smile crept back in, the corners of his eyes creasing. 

“What a wonderful idea…” 

God, his eyes… 

You looked down at your own napkin, laughing a little at yourself. “Wilford, I promise, the advice I just gave you was nothing crazy.”

“Well, perhaps it’s just a little too rare that I get a pick-me-up.”

You hopped down from the counter. “Swing by whenever, I’ll hand them out for free. Though, if you’re always on the move, I guess you’re probably not in town for long, huh?”

He quickly followed your lead and stood, his chair nearly falling in his haste. “Uh— w-well I, I don’t know, I could always… linger for a day or two. Hard to say really.” 

“Uh huh.” You smirked at him, raising your brows. “Well, if that constant partying you have going on brings you back here, feel free stop in, okay? … It’d be nice to have someone in here every once in a while. Well, someone friendly, anyway.” 

“Right. Will do. Of course.”

You gave him two solid pats on the chest and turned to throw the napkins away behind the counter. When you turned to face him again, he was gone.  Only slightly confused, you quickly recovered and yelled a quick, “bye~!” to the now empty store.

[doudouma]

“a new meaning to butterfly〜”

the butterfly girls with gn!close friend reader who’s knowledgeable on butterflies!

_______________________________________________

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

who would’ve knew the butterfly girls would meet gn!platonic!reader who’s a researcher. twice the odds that they’re infatuated with butterflies!〜

there are no warnings, my dear lotus.

i will keep it gender neutral.❀ 〜

a/n : reader is also a demon slayer! i actually conjured this idea up while scrambling on what to post! i thought it was very unique〜

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

kanae

you two aren’t on a mission, and is just chilling in her room.

trying to relax for the time being, she takes off her butterfly clips, and sets them down gently〜

she notices you admiring her clips, and puts them on you! the two of you laugh about it, and you look in the mirror. (how amazing you look〜)

you explain what pink butterflies symbolize (inner peace), and compliments her on the fact that it suits her so well!

kanae is astonished at your statement, and compliments you for knowing it!

until you two get something else to do, you take the time out to show her your journal of sketches of your butterflies〜

to her, you’ll add a new meaning to the butterfly girls now that shes very knowledgeable on them♡

shinobu

you two are sitting in her research room, doing regular demon research and making medicines〜

she starts to look a bit tense, because she can’t find the answer to something.

in a attempt to try to make her feel better, you compliment her butterfly pin!

she says thank you, and agrees that butterflies are beautiful♡

you decide to go further with it and inform her on rare few purple butterflies, and telling her about butterflies that matches your colors too!

surprisingly to her, she felt much more relaxed and calm, and kind of had the urge to research about butterflies!

now, almost every time you two are doing research, each time shinobu will say a different butterfly she wants to know about from you.

live up to the name, butterfly girl!

kanao

to start off, you two would meet because of the butterflies.

you saw her butterfly clip and got intrigued. especially since she gives off such a calm butterfly demeanor!

you ask her if she knows anything about butterflies, much to your surprise, she shook her head a little.

you sit down next to her, asking if you two can talk about it, and she says yes〜

although, the conversation is much one-sided, but she’s listening to your every word!

kanao would actually keep a journal of butterflies you teach her about, or try to find them in the wild and report them to you!

as time goes on, she eventually asks questions about butterflies or brings one to you♡

aoi

she would be really surprised on how you’re so well informed on butterflies!

sadly, she’d question if she’s smart enough to be your friend.

you pick up on those behaviors, and offer to share everything you know about butterflies with her, so you two can be educated on them together!

she practically unofficially made you a butterfly sister (regardless of your gender)〜

how can someone who’s so knowledgeable on butterflies just not join?

as a thank you, aoi often bakes you treats in the shape of a butterfly! she always does your favorite type of butterfly too!

maybe she teaches you her best baking recipes and even shares her favorite baking techniques〜

she even gets you your own clip, and gifts it to you on your nightstand while you’re sleeping♡

BONUS

sumi, kiyo, naho

the cute little girls would definitely see you as one of their cool older siblings!

when you guys are cleaning, they would ask to teach them about butterflies, and would be so interactive!

you would have no idea how much that would mean to them, they view it as bonding time♡

sumi, kiyo, naho would love to know if their blue, pink, and green butterflies have any cool or pretty meanings, and and would feel so proud once they know〜

in their free time, they’d draw you butterflies, and explain to you what they mean.

certainly, they want to know everything you know about butterflies, too!

and maybe even more, to tell you something cool someday♡〜

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

wow! these were quite quick to write, and they were very cute too. i really hope you like the bonus too! i worked hard for such a short amount of time it took. i try to write often, but i run out of inspiration, my apologies. my precious flowers, as always, thank you for your patience❀〜

[hina-hina]

Hi! How are you doing? Well i hope! This is my first time sending a request (ever) and i don't know how exactly this works. I apologize if I did/do something wrong!

But i was wondering if you could write something about a reader who draws everyone in the group because they are so inspiring and cool! And they know that, even teasing Ghost because they never saw the reader draw him even as a little stick man haha.

But what do you think would happened if the reader left their skechtbook open on the pages dedicated only to Ghost (and he ends up seeing), even with small poems or love declarations in the corners of the page? The descripition of the drawings can be whatever you want, spicy ones, fluffly, badass memories the reader has about him, anything!

(Reader doesn't participate directly in the battlefield but act "behind the cameras" because they are a little clumsy and desperate when it comes to pressure.)

(Simon riley x gn or fem!reader )

And if you can't write this at all is tottaly fine! I don't even know if you are gonna read this lol. Also, i love your writing and the way you write everything with the right measure of fluffly stuff makes everything even better. Without further ado, have a good night / afternoon / day.

☆anon! <3

Hello friend!! First off, thank you for all the sweet stuff you said about my writing!! It really warms my heart knowing people like what I write. Second of all, this request is so cute!! I also quite like to draw and I love the headcanon of any character drawing him or what he looks like!! Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! (≧∇≦)ﾉ

→ COD Masterlist

|| Ghost With an S/O Who Secretly Draws Him ||

Tags: Military!Reader, Artist!Reading, Fluff, Blushy Ghost, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, Soft Ghost, Awkward Ghost (lol)

Warnings: None

Gender-Neutral!Reader // Romantic

So, like what is stated in the request, you worked as a intelligence analysis for the 141

You spent a lot of time with the 141, working with informants to properly distribute intelligence to its members

You worked off field, often staying on base due to your clumsy nature

You liked to spend time with the 141 while they were on base, usually by hanging out in a pub or in the rec room

When Soap noticed you drawing one day, he encouraged you to draw him which then led to you drawing other members of the 141

Your sketchbook was filled with pictures of Captain Price, Gaz, Soap, and even a few of Laswell

Most of these drawings show them in action, a way for you to express just how inspiring they are

You drew everyone, everyone except Ghost

This often caused him to get teased as you guys hung out, Soap making numerous comments about the mask causing him to be "undrawable"

Ghost doesn't seem to mind all that much, but you really can't tell with the mask how he feels

Whenever the subject gets brought up, however, you start to blush and try to change the subject which made Ghost slightly curious

Therefore, one day when he goes to your on-base quarters in order to inform you of an upcoming briefing

When Ghost knocks on the door, the door opens due to it having been cracked

Ghost pauses for a moment, before stepping into the room and calling out your name

When he notices that the room is empty, he starts to leave before noticing your sketchbook laying open on the edge of your bunk

He knew it was wrong to invade your privacy, about to leave and reprimand himself for even considering looking through your property

However, when he caught a glimpse of a skull drawing, he couldn't help but inch closer

He told himself that he would just take a quick look and leave before you even knew he had went to your room

This fails however when he gets a really good look at the page

On the page, beside the photo of his skull mask, is a photo of him

Or, what he could guess is what you think he looks like without his mask

He is surprised at how accurate it is, a few scars missing here and there but overall he could tell it was meant to be him

He forgets himself for a moment, picking the boot up to get a closer look

He notices that you had wrote notes in the margins, notes on things that were apparently wrong with the drawing

He glances back at the ajar door before quickly turning the page

On the next page, he is even more taken aback

This page includes photos of him in action or just relaxing in the rec room, some with his mask on some without

He notices more writing in the margins, noticing that it is written in a much fancier way that the notes from the previous page

He reads it, feeling his face become hot from under his balaclava as he realizes they are love notes

From poems to letters, they range in tone and length, obviously being well-thought out

He is very taken aback by the words, not thinking that anyone could ever say these kind of things about someone like him

Suddenly, he hears footsteps coming up from down the hallway, causing him to snap the book shut and spin around, not having nearly enough time to leave as you appeared in the doorway

You had clearly been coming back from the showers as you pause not expecting him to be standing in your room

When you ask him what he is doing there, he feels himself at a loss for words

"Uh-"

Before he could even collect his thoughts you realize your sketchbook is now missing from where you had left it, searching Ghost's masked face before realizing

"You looked through my sketchbook..."

It wasn't a question, rather a statement of fact

Ghost sighs, feeling the edges of guilt pulling at his consciousness, holding the closed book out to you,

"Price sent me to find you and your door was left open, so-"

You snatch the book from his hand, "So you thought it was fine to go through my stuff?"

Ghost feels a twinge of annoyance at your tone, before reminding himself that he was in the wrong

"It was wrong. I'm sorry."

You fiddle with the edge of your book, not daring to make eye contact with him

"...Did you read it."

He briefly considers lying, if only to give himself more time to process his feelings

He doesn't do this however, replying with a quiet, "...Yes."

You nod, turning away to set your book and shower caddy down before heading toward the door,

"I'll go talk to Price about getting transferred. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable-"

"Wait-"

His hand shoots out and grabs your arm, causing a shiver to run down your back as you turn to face him

It's hard to tell anything about what he is thinking with the mask so you just wait for him to continue

Eventually his grip loosens, but he doesn't let go,

"It didn't."

"...What?"

"It didn't... Make me uncomfortable."

This surprised you, but when he didn't continue you turn fully to him, about to probe him to continue when he awkwardly moved his hands down to your waist to pull you further from the door

"I... like you... too."

The words are forced out, him clearly not being used to this but not willing to let you just walk out of his life

You smile shyly back at him, placing your hands slowly on the sides of his neck in case he wants to pull away

He doesn't

"Really?"

He nods, showing you a rare vulnerability that proves that he wasn't used to this at all

You can't help the urge to kiss him, placing your hands around the edge of his balaclava

"May I?"

He doesn't respond, instead taking one hand off of your waist to pull off his mask completely, placing the hand on the side of your face before moving closer to you, silently asking for a kiss

You quickly oblige

The kiss is soft, just a quick press of lips filled with a gentleness that he deserved

You pull back, pressing your hands into his cheeks and marveling at the way he presses into your hands

"Guess I wasn't too far off, huh?"

He smiles slightly, grabbing your hand and moving it down to the large scar that stretched across his cheek,

"Forgot this one."

You move your hands across it lightly, just your fingertips making contact

"I'll get it in the next one."

You smile, moving back in for another kiss and wrapping your hands around his neck to pull him closer

He knew the two of you would be late to the briefing

He couldn't find it in himself to care

Thanks for reading!! ⇣Taglist⇣ @scarlettprooff @unabashednightmarepizza @kk00789 @cl0udii-m00n @polar2oidsworld @meepsters-world @uwu-i-purple-you

[stupidlovergirl]

Levi! The Babygirl Otaku Shut-in!

A small collection of blurbs/headcannons of what it's like to date Levi!

not edited

Leviathan, who streams for money. He’s introverted and a little shy, but when he is live streaming feels different. He is pretty popular too, and people think his expressiveness is pretty funny. He plays all different kinds, but everyone can tell he has a soft spot for indie games and dating simulators. After you guys start dating, he accidentally slips up and mentions you while playing one. It was a simple “Oh! Me and my s/o did something like this the other day lololol.” Chat went absolutely FERAL. Shut-in otaku Levi!?!? WITH A LOVER?!?!?! They were demanding for a reveal. He discussed if you were comfortable or not. If you said yes he would be absolutely ECSTATIC, he would be ok with a no tho, he gets it can be pretty stressful. If you  would just like to be on call, no face that's cool! He gets so happy if you say you are fine with a full reveal, face and all!! Brags about you so much, his chat clowns him so hard. They stop calling him by his name and just call him your boyfriend. Ever since then you sometimes play games with him, your choice! The chat loves you two!!! They call you two couple goals when you start making fun of each other. 

Levi really likes to visit the beach when he gets out of the house. Hope you can drive, he cannot. If you can’t, better start preparing those puppy dog eyes to convince Mammon to take you two to the beach. He really likes collecting seashells for Henry’s tank on the seashore with you. I think Levi would be really good at surfing!! He heard about it from the human world, and really wanted to give it a shot. He kills it!! He also likes having picnics there too. Cute foods or leftovers are all fine with him, he just thinks it's fun. He’s a sap.

He makes mixtapes for you. He knows people make playlists now, but he thinks having a physical one is a little more meaningful. He draws cute hearts and a picture of the two of you on the CD. Are there a lot of anime songs on there? Yes. Your point? Miku didn’t make these to go to WASTE!!!! Also includes songs that remind him of you, and songs you mentioned that made you think of him.

Levi is a little bit more weird on how he shows affection. He never really had a long term relationship (maybe not even short term ones…). He doesn’t always get it. Show him you love him though your ways and he’ll show you how he loves. Making couples cosplay to even outfits you said you wanted but they didn’t have the correct sizes or lengths. He likes when you wear these, as they leave marks of him on you. He also likes giving you items he owns to wear. Bracelets, pins, shirts, whatever you want you can have!! Levi gets a little possessive, especially since he doesn’t attend class in person a lot. He also might bring back fossils. He just thinks they're neat. Also, stuffed animals are a must. He gets them for you on instinct. They're cute like you, and are good for nests! (I like to think demons nest. That is what Levi's bathtub bed doubles as since hardly anyone comes into his room)

Continuing his strange affection streak: physical affection. He bites softly on your cheeks or arms, cuddles almost look like he’s killing you because he wraps around you like a snake, just funny little things that make you laugh sometimes. He also like to cuddle because he is naturally a little colder, because he is a reptile based demon. Will surprise you with his cold hands and laugh at your misery. Kiss him in public and he shuts up. I bet he is so ticklish from lack of touch hnrgh. Tickle him till he cries!!! His laugh becomes so ugly and he snorts and starts crying and it looks so CUTE!!!! He is just a touch starved cutie please give him all the lovings! Do expect revenge for this though, he is not a merciful demon. 

I think he glows in the dark. Bio-luminescent sea creature my dudes(gender neutral)!!!! Night light boyfriend!!! He likes it when you kiss those marks, because for a long time he was insecure of them. Honestly? Loving any part of his demon form makes him feel better, because he still hates them. He has made an uneasy peace with a lot of it, but sometimes he still feels intensely disgusted by them. Ask him permission and Touch! His! Horns! Tell them how it reminds of coral (I think they might be based off of fire coral specifically?). Pet his tail!! He appreciates it, even if you sometimes have to chase it because he gets excited and it starts to wag. You feel like you're fighting a beast trying to catch it some days.

These ones are a little more serious. Please remember he has bad anxiety!! Depression also comes hard on him too. You can notice because his hygiene starts to slip first. Levi might be a shut in, but he doesn’t like to smell. He escapes for little showers, or at least takes rag baths. Please encourage him to shower, sometimes that means being in the bathroom with him, not always necessarily in the bath with him though. He just likes your presence, you never feel overwhelming to him. He might ask you to wash his hair at these times. Speaking might be too much in these times too. Just turn on Ruri-chan or the TSL movies. They’re his comfort shows. Let him take his time. He’ll tell you soon enough.

Back to light-hearted ones now!! Levi really likes terms of endearments. His favorite ones to call you is Henry, Player 2, and when he’s being really cringe “his Waifu/Husbando”. He also really likes calling you “his”, not in a toxic way.  He just sometimes likes knowing that you are his like he is yours. Just calling you “his s/o” makes his heart flutter. Levi likes any name you give him! Obviously there are the ones that are the matching one to it, like “Lord of Shadows” and “Player 1”. Please babygirl him, he loses his mind. He CANNOT believe he’s your babygirl! HIM! He doesn’t like when you say it in public, he can only take so much!!!! Much more prefers being called it in private. He really likes any softer pet names, he’s a soft guy!

[goodluckclove]

For the 'struggling writer thing'

Currently having a mini crisis about my MC and faer writing style, it's quite... purple prose poetic but there's a REASON for faer writing style to be like that, plus the other character's POVs are a lot more simple.

I guess what I'm trying to say is... how to make purple prose more understandable while it's still purple prose? My current plan is to separate the longer scenes into 'snippets' with titles so they are more digestible, but any help would be much appreciated!

Hi. Hello! It's good to hear from you.

By the way you crafted this ask it sounds to me like someone somewhere made you think that purple prose is inherently bad and acts as some kind or moral failure on your behalf. At the same time, it seems like you have a perfectly justifiable reason for your character to talk the way fae does.

Purple prose is often derided, in my experience, when it is used to draw attention to how Writerly the Writer is. Oh, look at ME! Look at all the BIG WORDS I know! Have you considered ALL THE BOOKS THAT I HAVE EATEN! YUMMY YUMMY KNOWLEDGE!

That sucks. You don't want to be the writer who writes so people know how smart they are. That's weird.

On the other hand, sometimes you make a Little Guy who just talks in a certain way. And if you want to respect that and showcase it, you should. So fae talks like a fancy weirdo? Cool! If that's genuinely their vibe then that's faer's vibe, and maybe you don't have to go that extra mile to make it "digestible".

People read James Joyce for fun. Not everyone needs easily digestible literature. There is absolutely a justification for a character talking like an ornate time machine stowaway if that's what you feel is the best depiction of who they are and you don't got to do a goddamned thing to make them sound more normal.

The only thing I would say is that if the other POVs are in a more conventional tone, then fae's perspective will really stand out. But if they're a dryad that uses neopronouns and speaks in poetry - that tracks for me. That makes sense that they're not speaking in TikTok memes and talking about the nearest place to find vape juice.

Let fae be the most indulgent Little Fancy Man (gender neutral) that fae wants to be, especially for a first draft. You can tone it down later if you want, but maybe you won't have to. if anyone tells you to stop they can eat an entire loaf of heavily-processed sandwich bread and absolutely go fuck themselves.

[lazyauthor9000]

HELLOOO JAIII <33 HOPE YOUR HAVING A GREAT DAY/NIGHT WHEREEVER YOU ARE 💗 SINCE REQUESTS ARE OPEN (and CJ's @tempons) last request gave me an idea!!

how about a GN!readee who's April's sister? what would the rise boys (platonic) relationship be with them?

- jay !! 🫀

A/N: THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA RAHHH!! I hope you have a swell day as well wherever you are!! 🧡

Pairing: Rise!Turtles x GN!Sibling!Reader

Genre: Platonic, lots of Fluff

Type: Headcanon

Warnings: Turtle brothers being turtles

Reader: Gender-neutral

| April's sister and the Rise boys |

Raphael:

Your relationship with Raph is really good to say the least

You liked watching him train, you thought he looked really cool and so you looked up to him

You couldn't participate in training because of the dangers of it, so you'd secretly reference the snapping turtle at home

You and Raph like to show off your stuffed toys

It makes Raph glad he isn't the only one who finds comfort in these small pillow animals

You climb on his back every now and then because of how tall he is

He freaks out because he doesn't want his spikes to hurt you

You reassure him and after a while, he got used to it and just lets you do it whenever

He tries not to crush you when he hugs you

You told him that head pats were just fine since it didn't require him to use much strength

He was still afraid but after a while, showing affection like this was acceptable to him

He was like your big brother now, taking care of you just like he does to his brothers

He invites you over with April to watch Lou Jitsu since he wants you to be an even bigger fan than all of them

(And so they can decide which movie is better)

Leonardo:

The both of you got along well

TOO well

The two of you were just as chaotic to say the least

Pulling pranks, throwing jokes here and there just to annoy everyone

Leo was just glad he can share this energy with someone else

The both of you would have movie marathons almost everyday when you could

Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim movies were a must

If you recommended a movie, he would watch it and give you his feedback on how awesome it was

It's rare, but he lets you take some of his most valuable comic books so you can read them in your free time to catch up so he can rant all about it to you

The both of you were inseparable

It sometimes even made April rant about how Leo was taking you away from her, and that you might even replace her with him someday

Leo would boast about it and would even ask if you can watch him skateboard just so he can show off how cool he is

Leo's notifications at 4 AM would wake you up and you wouldn't be able to fall back asleep

You'd both end up sending each other memes or videos that you thought were funny

He'd eventually start calling you "Little sis" just to annoy April, and it worked!

Donatello:

He's too smart

His brain is far too complicated to get along with

But of course, you found your way around and actually became good friends with the boy

When you couldn't get something on your homework, you'd ask him for help

He doesn't mind of course, he actually enjoys his time spent with you even if he never shows it

Since he does not like what he calls "Togetherness", he usually pats you on the head with his hook he created to say "Good job" when you got something correct

You'd sometimes sneak into his lab to watch him make his new inventions

He doesn't seem to mind as long as you don't interrupt him

He'd sometimes even go on a rant on how he makes them

He's actually really glad someone appreciates his work seeing as you never judged or looked bored with how much he talked about his inventions

Even if you don't get what he's saying most of the time, you're really trying

He actually appreciates your help with taking care of Sheldon when he can't

You're like the little assistant he never knew he needed

Michelangelo:

This guy absolutely adores you

Mikey loves giving surprise hugs every time you're over

He invites you over almost everyday to draw or paint with you

And even if you didn't draw, he'd teach you or tell you whatever you create is art

He likes cooking with you since it's his hobby

Running around and having fun in the kitchen is definitely something he enjoys when spending time with you

He of course cleans up the mess afterwards with your help

He absolutely loves teaching you how to cook so you can make it for yourself later on

When you get permission to stay over, he'd make a pillow fort with you and grab his tablet to watch Stock Boy's new scary videos

You'd both go into the arcade room to beat each other's scores

He'd go easy on you, but that was only sometimes since he's just too nice

He is the therapist of the family, so if you need to talk, he's there

You'll receive Dr. Feelings, or Dr. Positive depending on the situation

Seeing Dr. Delicate touch was rare, he doesn't want to scare you away with the truth

He likes to draw you stickers and make you pins, so please do put them on your phone case or backpack so it's visible to the eye

He really likes sharing his creations with you <3

| A/N: I'll need to look this over later, my brain is sizzled with no more brain cells. Please point out any mistakes I made cause I'm sure there's some |

[thegeminisage]

i decided to make a list of 15 of my favorite plot devices

i think they're mostly in order but all things are subject to change. time to explain my passions

1. asexuals - self-explanatory. the best number one joy of all time is when there is an asexual person, canonically, and not just in my mind palace. so far no show has managed to do this except fucking shadowhunters (and bojack horseman ig but it's not my thing). i know there are people out there who can write way better than the shadowhunters writing room but i don't know why they aren't getting on this. tick tock. example: raphael shadowhunters

2. amnesia - notably different from dementia, which is depressing and bad (thinking about you, dean winchester). amnesia is only good because eventually they get it back. the best thing about amnesia is that it shows you who your Little Guy (gender neutral) is with everything stripped away from them including their sense of self. do they still go for the same kind of coffee? do they still click with the same people they used to love? can they still fight? what do they stand for? it's very rewarding when your little guy acts the same way without knowing why. it's also especially cool for action heroes bc they'll still be able to win a fight and it's like wow <3 fight scenes with emotional stakes!! also i love that it gives us a mystery to solve. sometimes a partially amnesiac character is amnesiac because they did a terrible crime. and they've got to solve it while accidentally working against their past self. fun! examples: fang from ff13. wolverine. why, who did you think i was going to use

3. brainwashing - for the same reasons as amnesia. it's the same concept: take away everything and who is your little guy? the real little guy is in there and they are working so hard to get out. also they will be sooo sad about all the crimes they did later. example: fenris dragon age. d'avin killjoys. and okay fine one other guy we're not talking about

4. enemies to lovers - what's better than two people wanting to murder each other until they don't......always a good side of bickering with this as well. main draw tho is the process of simply two people getting to know one another in the way that you can tell strangers things you can't tell your friends. it's more work to love someone when you hate them and with more work comes a better reward. also, sexual tension. example: so many. fenris/hawke. fenris/anders. botw link/zelda. john/aeryn. bonnie and damon if the cw weren't cowards and i don't even like damon i think he's unforgivably horrible (derogatory)

5. monster under the bed character - i don't know if this has a real name. it's like the One Guy (again, gender neutral) who has shaped the protagonist's whole life who is threat number one in any given situation. Primal Fear of this guy and all they represent is similar to how little kids are scared of the monster under the bed hence the name. it's not JUST an arch enemy or an antagonist it's like. the only enemy that matters. not a bad guy but THE bad guy. if you can boil someone's issues down and stuff them all into a single person and then also make that person scary. and then also they can fight!! fuck yeah fight scenes!!! if you're really lucky this will overlap with either somebody's parent or somebody's ex. examples: AUGH SO MANY. for dean winchester it's yellow eyes. for sam winchester it's lucifer. for fenris it's danarius. for jace wayland it's valentine. for dutch killjoys it's khlyen. for anakin skywalker it's palpatine. for derek hale it's kate argent. going nuts just thinking about it

6. reluctant assassins - crucially if they don't care about being assassins it doesn't work for me (sorry kassandra asscreed). i went into this in more detail here but your assassin simply Must be compromised in some way so they can regret all their little crimes later. otherwise what's the point?? this overlaps so thoroughly with brainwashed iedk if it should count as its own entry but whatever. examples: fenris dragon age. dutch killjoys. d'avin killjoys. elliot leverage. and the other one

7. two-person love triangle - this is a very specific sub-example of secret identities in general which ARE good except they're usually in superhero media and i am really just so totally fucking over the entire CONCEPT of superheroes. anyway it's when one person has a secret identity and the other person forms a relationship with their "real" identity and their "secret" one. and then they feel conflicted about loving two people at once and having to choose but SURPRISE it's the same person! i like this because it has anti love triangle energy. lots of romantic tension and none of the dumb fucking YA bullshit. (apologies to YA.) example: arthur and merlin (who is also "emrys" at least in fanfic)

8. 4th wall shit - when the piece of media is in your house with you. i don't feel i need to clarify further than this because dr gaster is probably spying on me as we speak. examples: everything toby fox has ever made. s*pernatural, sometimes. i also had a deeply haunted experience with final fantasy x.

9. last guy (gender neutral) standing - part of a team or group that got tragically mcmurder prior to the start of the story and this person is so terribly sad about it. crucially this has to be a side character whose relationships with dead people are more important than or equally important to their relationships with the current living cast members. character deaths you almost agree with because then at least they can be with their fallen buds. examples: auron from ffx, noel from ffxiii

10. immortal characters - for the same reasons as above but also they CAN'T DIE EVER so they don't even have that to look forward to. also sometimes they wind up being science experiments. examples: jesse turner from @cambionverse (sorry jesse)

11. evil doppelganger - usually this is in video games where they just take the sprite or the polygons and recolor them to be black but also you have some mirrorverse/au shit going on sometimes and then there's evil twins, and shapeshifters, and clones...i love when everybody gets tricked into thinking somebody is doing crimes but actually theyre just out here and it's their evil double causing problems on purpose and not even being the one to go to jail forever because of it. also, when the evil double has mind-reading powers or whatever b/s to 1. make them a better trickster 2. to make them better at precision-point roasting of whomstever they look like. also acceptable: when you little guy just suddenly turns fucking evil and/or gets possessed and you have to cure them to get them back. idk maybe that should go under brainwashing. examples: dutch and aneela. link and dark link. zelda and the puppet. soulless sam. demon dean. hullen johnny.

12. fire powers - WHO doesn't love a little arson...i feel like this is the same concept behind werewolves which boils down to "fear of anger" bc with anger comes the loss of control and the devastating fallout... your fire guy (gender neutral but idk any fire girls) has to have a lot of self control or they'll fuck everybody up. they're very dangerous! not unlike assassins. also, fire is pretty. bonus if they have done crimes before either on purpose or on accident. examples: jesse turner again, roy mustang aka the OG fireguy, prince zuko

13. big damn reunion - when two people are split up with little to no chance of ever seeing each other again and then they do anyway. this is why i'm never mad when they bring characters back from the dead. examples: i'm actually totally blanking on these, i feel like it tends to happen in fic so much more often. also i've been writing this list awhile

14. time travel - i love! time travel! i love when people see an apocalyptic future and go back and fix it (chrono trigger, ff13). i love when there's a stable loop (tears of the kingdom) or a paradox (song of storms in ocarina of time). i love visits to the ancient past (skyward sword). i love when there's just an actual fucking timeloop (s*pernatural). it's really good!!! examples: oops i just listed them all

15. body swap - last but not least i think it is so fun when two people wind up living each other's lives. it's more fun in tv when people get to switch which character theyre playing but it's good in any form because what a way to get to know someone and also the endless potential for shenanigans. examples: dreamless (webcomic), your name, various episodes of tv shows many of which are bad (s*pernatural's was extremely bad).

ok, that's the list. originally it was 10, then 13, then 15, so i think i'd better stop here.

[firefly--bright]

without home (without you)

jean kirstein x gender neutral!reader

a blooming hearts extra!

warnings : heavy, heavy angst, grief, aot-verse violence mentions, manga chapter spoilers!!!!!! major character death (it's you lmao you're the character-) proceed w caution! can be read as a stand alone piece but reading blooming hearts would help :)

summary : an almost devastating need to be with you. his skin wanted to lay with yours. jean doesn't know what to do with his hands now that you're gone.

a/n : damn this was hard to write. i love writing angst but mmm this was kinda tricky cause it's about poppy, yk? i had to do alot of digging on Jean's character and watched a few videos about it too, just to get this perfect. i hope it was worth it and that you guys would like this :) engagement is very appreciated!

tagging : @a10vely-yutazen taglist is open!

✿ blooming hearts playlist ✿ fic pinterest board ✿ enter my taglist ✿ main masterlist is in pinned navigation ✿ requests are open! ✿

fanart in the middle by @/gemmsen on Instagram.

--

Jean didn’t realise his bones hurt this much.

He knew they’d hurt after all the years being spent in relentless fighting, but he didn’t know they'd hurt this much. He assumed the pain would go away as soon as he lead a more relaxing life, but it seemed to stay.

His mother had opened the door to his childhood house with a wide grin and tearing escaping her eyes. She never cried when he was a kid – a sign jean took for her strength. But when she stood infront of him, head near his weary but beating heart, he heard her sob. And out of all things she could do, she thanked him.

Him. she thanked him.

And what for? For returning empty handed? Returning with less than he had started out with? Returning without bringing you?

He had promised her in those letters he wrote to her almost every other month that he’d bring you along with him when he would finally come back home after all these years. That his mother would love you and show you around jean’s childhood garden and make you his favourite food in hopes you’d love it too. he wondered if his mother was waiting for you as much as she was waiting for him.

But the wait would have been futile anyway. You would never grace his old house, your soft footsteps would never pad along his childhood room that still had his old drawings and sketches and clothes that he bet his mother still kept in his closet, collecting dust.  

He hugged his mother close to his chest. After he was ushered inside by the older woman, she had promptly made him tea with milk the same way he’d drink it as a child and some toast with a little bit of sugar sprinkled on top. The same toast you had tried to make in Marley after he told you about his old favourite treat. he remembered you putting a little too much sugar on it, and when jean complained about it, you just shrugged and told him his bitter attitude would be fixed if he ate the whole thing.

He ate the whole thing. Not to fix his ‘bitter attitude’ but to see your smile on your face as you prepared to make the second piece of toast, this time with less sugar.

His mother talked about all the things he’d missed. She talked about how Mr. Thompson’s boy ran away one time, and how he came back at night after he became too hungry. The boy’s mother had given him a beating after that, jean’s mother recalled. Jean smiled as he blew his tea to cool it, something he had to now get used to doing by himself. You’d always make the tea hot and let it cool down as jean slept through the sunrise. The commander position had been too much for him to handle as he sat through sleepless nights trying to complete the endless paperwork and future plans himself. You’d try to stay up by his side, but ended up passing out after having to help armin with the new train track plans the entire day in the blazing paradis sun. the milky tea would cool down to be a temperature which jean actually enjoyed sipping it in, so in some ways, the sleeplessness would be worth it.

He remembered you trying out coffee for the first time in Marley. Your nose scrunched and eye twitched as you drank the bitter liquid, but you tried to maintain your composure infront of the azumbito who had so kindly offered you the drink. The cup went untouched after the first sip. Jean had to finish it off so you wouldn’t feel bad about being rude to your hosts, and with his stone face as he sipped the wretched thing, he saw your shoulders relax a bit. He remembered thinking he would make you pay him back, but for now, it would be worth it.

his mother knew better than to ask him about his experiences. She remembered when he wrote that letter describing when jean found his dear friend dead. The letter was one of the first he had ever written to her. It was short and to the point, but jean’s mother treasured it nonetheless. His mother told jean how there had been a shortage of apples for a while now, so her horse in the stable hadn’t seen his favourite treat for a long time. She left out the part where she would look at the empty stable next to her own horse, the one occupied by jean’s father’s horse.

Jean’s father had always been a touchy subject in the Kirstein household. Jean himself had his mother’s last name due to the reason, refusing to take his fathers. He’d leave and return at random times of the year, claiming something about “having work” which jean, even as a child, didn’t believe. He would almost always return an ungodly amount of time later, in the late hours of the night, claiming he missed his ‘wife’ even though the ring on jean’s mother’s hand was long gone, kept in the drawer in her closet. She told jean that she would give the ring to him when he decided to get married himself so that it could be like a family heirloom instead of something that made her see the man that she grew to hate.

She had kicked jean’s father out soon after she got better after being sick, when jean had been in the second year of his cadet training. She wrote the news to him in a letter that went unanswered for a long time. Jean didn’t acknowledge it until after the war in trost, when he diligently answered his mother’s letters – new and old – after you had told him to treat his mother better. He realised his stupidity the night you told him that after the close call to his death, he might as well tell his mother he was alive and somewhat well and that his teenage rage bullshit with his mother would only keep hurting the woman.

He detailed his apology in the next letter he wrote to her. She brushed his stupidity aside, saying she forgave him. she then asked about you in the letter.

Jean’s next letter was three whole pages long, front and back.

As he cleaned up from the warm and much needed dinner after a long day's travel, he wondered if she still kept that letter.

Jean wished he could go back. he wished he was here with you instead of alone. He wished you rode your horse alongside his and complained about how your back was hurting because of the long journey. Jean wished he could massage your back to relive you of the discomfort like how he used to after you had been slumped on your desk for too long.

he tried to swallow down the lump in his throat, shifting his attention to cleaning the dishes.

But how could he focus? Your hands weren’t wrapped around his waist, cheek pressed on his back like you used to back in Marley, in your shared apartment supplied by the Azumabito’s as the scouts tried to act like normal Marleyans and somehow gather information about the military and whereabouts of the suicidal maniac. But in your little home, coated in beautiful silence, you and jean were just…that. Just people. Not trying to stay alive on the rooftops of trost while fighting cannibalistic giants, not infront of your friend’s and old commrades’ graves asking for forgiveness, not a commander and his assistant. You were just two people, sharing a house, doing the dishes after eating dinner, with your feet touching the same ground, warm skin touching warm skin.

Jean sighed. The basin was a relatively new invention to paradis, and he was glad for that. He couldn’t imagine dipping his hand in the dirty water like he had to during his cadet days after you had been separated from him to clean up the stables.

Stop thinking, he tried to will himself with futile results.

Missing you would be an understatement. Missing you would be saying that you were only gone for a couple of days. Missing you sounded more like a promise, like a hope that you'd come back to him and he’d stop missing you. he wasn’t grieving you, either. He grieved marco. He grieved sasha. He grieved the commrades that died on his command, and he knew for a fact that grief wasn’t what he felt for you.

No, this felt more like… an ache. Residing deep in his muscles because they couldn’t hold you, residing deep in his lungs because they couldn’t smell the scent you left behind – the freshly washed clothes and the smell of flowers. After you had discovered perfumes in marley, it was over for you. you tried every single one, finally settling on the one marked as “pure blossom” and jean remembered calling it a stupid name because they could’ve just named it “flowers” instead of something pretentious, but the smile on your face made him pull his wallet out anyway.

The ache, as he decided to call it, was more dangerous than the grief. The ache felt more like a habit he had left behind instead of memories that would rush into his head. Habit of seeing you wake up next to him, of seeing you cutting up vegetables alongside him, of you strapping on his ODM gear. Things you had done to him a million times before, things he couldn’t call memories because memories would imply that he was going to forget them soon, or that he was intending to bury them with his countless other memories, but for him it felt like a cycle. Like the spinning of the candy floss he bought for you at your first carnival in the interiors of paradis as a cadet.

He hadn’t notice his mother walking back into the kitchen when she laid a hand on his shoulder. He had subconsciously stopped scrubbing the dishes, his hands frozen under the running water.

“I’ll clean up the rest, jean-bo. I set up your bed, so go and sleep.” She said.

Jean breathed. Nodding, he wiped his hands on the napkin next to him.

His upstairs room, as suspected, had been left untouched. He assumed there would be dirt everywhere, but jean’s mother seemed to have cleaned it. He sighed an affectionate smile.

The air in his room smelt like old wood soaked in rain. He padded his feet over to the window near his closet to let some fresh night air inside.

resting his chin on his palm, he looked out the now open window. The moon was full and beautiful, and under his room was the perfect view of the garden his mother was so fondly and patiently growing.

The moonlight gave just enough light to the flowers she grew. If memory served jean correct, some were tulips with their closed buds. Some were uncanny to white roses, but he wouldn’t know with the dim lighting. His eyes wandered the place, observing the flowers in the different staged of being bloomed, until they landed on them. The poppies.

The red flowers looked almost purple with the moon’s glow and the indigo night sky, but that didn’t stop jean from recognizing them, not after everything.

“poppy.” He whispered.

“poppy. Poppy. Poppy.” He repeated, like he thought saying it enough times would bring you back. he remembered how sasha had told him that if you say a name of a dead person three times infront of a mirror, their apparation would appear infront of you. sasha was from a small village, and the extents of her superstitious knowledge never failed to surprise jean, and he brushed her off saying it was just something her grandmother would have made up.

But although jean didn’t have a mirror infront of him, he hoped the conviction in his voice would do the trick. He hoped his tears would mold you out of the ground you had sank in after death, he hoped his hand pressed to his chest would breathe life to your sculpture and that you'd be here, infront of him, glowing beneath the moonlight, no longer in a pool of your own blood on the cold floor, that your warmth would be yours again.

But all he did was sob and repeat your nickname in between the pleads of your name, soon becoming incoherent and jumbled mush. His right hand was pressed on the centre of his chest where it hurt the most, where the only thing that would heal it would be your signature kisses to it, like your own handmade key. Like how his was on the tip of your nose. His left hand clasped his ear, hoping he would hear the sweet tunes of your voice again, but all he heard instead were his sobs and the gunshot that killed you.

But one of his wishes was granted. If he were not to hear you or touch you or feel you again, he could at least see you as he closed his eyes tightly. He saw the first time he’d seen you without your clothes, only in your undergarments. The curtains of his room were closed, as you both laid on his cool bedsheets. Jean’s eyes roamed your body, marking every bruise, fresh and old, and every scar, new and healing and healed. He remembered asking himself why the priests in the churches prayed to a god in the walls when his god was here, infront of him, breathing, and how they could ever worship something that wasn’t even half as real yet holy as you, how they could plead to the sky when you were intertwining his pinky with yours, and how they could devote to their readings even if they could never find the words you say to him in the scriptures. How could they worship someone who has never touched them the way you had to him, your hands now tracing his jaw, trailing down to his adams apple as he swallowed, then to all the scars on his chest and arms, the ones he’d always kept covered. Did the gods they worshiped make them feel free of all their sins as they claimed to the same way he felt his sins wash away as you held his hand? Jean was never the religious type, but he did remember thinking, no, knowing, that there had to have been some god in you. that you had to be a god. And of course, he couldn’t say these things out loud in a way that would make sense, so he just continued to look at you as his eyes fluttered shut that night.

His mothers hand encircled his shoulders as she sat down beside him, back pressing the wall with the window jean was previously looking out of.

His mothers hand encircled his shoulders as she sat down beside him, back pressing the wall with the window jean was previously looking out of.

his mother guided him to sit at the edge of his clean bed. she sat on the edge of the mattress, and jean instinctively rest the back of his head against her knees.

it was something they used to do - whenever jean would be bullied, which happened quite a lot, his mother would ask him to sit on the floor as she massaged his head and took away all his worries. he'd rant to her about the boys with raspy voices and bruised knuckles would pick on him and him only, while his mother reminded him he was special, that he was okay, that the boys only did that to him because they lacked the confidence jean had.

and when jeans mother, once again, brushed her hand through his hair, his sobs ceased. he still wanted to scream, burst out in the tears that he had already exhausted to an extent, but instead, he sat there with wet eyelashes and cheeks with closed eyes, thinking about you and the things he wished would happen. that's the only thing he could do, he realised. all he could do now was wish and dream and picture a life with you by his side instead of living the horrid reality without you.

his mother broke the silence. "tell me about them," she asks.

she doesn't have to; she knows everything there is to know about poppy from her point of view by Jean's numerous letters detailing his experiences which somehow always consisted you. but she asked anyway. maybe because she wished someone would have asked her about jean's father when he left because not only did she have so much to say, she felt as though if she didn't, then it would be less real. then it would be all in her head. and if her son was anything like her, he was feeling the same way right now.

jeans hands shook, something he had grown used to since being a scout and waking up with nightmares; only this time, you weren't with him, holding his palms with your fingers until they stopped moving feverously. with one of his hands on his chest and the other in his lap, he took seven deep breaths in the same way marco had taught him. inhale, hold for a couple seconds, and then exhale. he repeated that until he gained his voice again, until he was sure the lump in his throat had dissolved a little.

with his mother's hands still in his hair, Jean found the strength to speak. he opened his mouth.

“they… the first time we talked, they called me flower boy.” He said hoarsely, and even if he had exhausted his tears for atleast two weeks, his eyes still burnt from a memory he couldn’t go back to. He saw it clearly, as if it were yesterday; the dining hall was packed, the smell of moist old wood and stale bread and steamed vegetables stained the atmosphere. The fire lamp behind you hit the side of your face, and he heard your voice clear as the night sky outside – “flower boy” you had said and if jean had food in his mouth, he was sure he would’ve spit it out.

“it wasn’t even..” jean smiled sadly, “it isn’t even a romantic nickname like honey or babe or sweetheart but it still made me choke up and blush. I think it was the fact that it was a personal nickname that I knew they wouldn’t call anyone else. and we had this stupid competition where we’d see who could go through the forest faster with our new ODM gear and one time they crashed into me because they lost control and I was on crutches for the next two weeks and they felt so guilty about it that they made me a flower crown every other day. I wasn’t even mad at them, not really. I just wanted them to continue making the flower crowns so I pretended to be mad at them.” He said. His voice regained it’s strength, palms facing upwards on his lap, taunting him as they lay there empty without yours intertwined in them.

His mother hummed knowingly. She knew what it was like to be in the crutches of strong teenage love, feeling like she had an entire world to explore with this newfound vision. How she wished she could go back and tell her younger self to enjoy that rose-coloured feeling while it lasted.

“and they never stopped calling me that. It felt wrong for someone else to call me that,” jean explained, and he felt his hand drift to the centre of his chest, feeling his heart beat. It seemed calm now, he noted, how the rhythmic vibration didn’t seem as erratic as before. maybe his mother was right, maybe all he needed to do was talk about you.

But how long would it take? How long would he have to blabber on about you, which he would do very gladly, for his still beating heart to know that you were no longer here? That you weren’t the reason it would flutter and thrum against his chest? how much longer would he have to keep reminding himself that you wouldn’t stop him in his tracks if you ever spotted a poppy on your way to a bakery in marley?

“I don’t think I can….i don’t think I can live without them, ma. It hurts. It hurts so much.” The cold hand on his chest started shaking again. “I don’t want to open my eyes without them. I don’t want to…I don’t know what to do, ma, what do I do? What do I do with all of what I’ve felt and keep feeling for them?” he asks raspily, desperately, like his mother would know the answers to questions she herself hadn’t been able to answer. Jean turned his head towards her, placing his cheek on her lap as he closed his eyes once more. If his mother couldn’t answer him, surely the darkness would be able to do something, right?

“sweet heart… I will be honest, I don’t know. I wish I did, but I don’t. its like your hands don’t know what to hold anymore, isn’t it?” she paused. “I wont pretend to know what you’re feeling. But all I can say is that you keep loving them, jean-bo. Preserve it. Keep it locked up only for them. And then, when time comes, and when your chest stops aching so, you can let it go.” She says.

Jean shakes his head, “but what if my chest never stops hurting?”

His mother doesn’t answer.

Jean knew at a young age that his mother didn’t always know the answer. Where other boys would spew facts and trivia about the world as their mother told them, jean’s mother would only answer him with an apologetic look and a “you’ll know soon enough jean-bo. And when you do, be sure to tell me.” and sometimes jean would be jealous of the other boys for having a mother like theirs, but he would shake away that jealousy quickly enough, coming home to his mother with an unbuttoned shirt, crying because the button broke off during a rather aggressive play of catch, and his mother would quickly sew on a shiny new button to it’s original place.

He learnt that his mother may not have all the answers to the world, but atleast she’d know how to fix them. How to fill in the cracks of the questions to make it her own wall.

But now he was here, on his mother’s lap, asking her to fix his broken heart, asking her to fix his collapsing lungs and shaking hands, looking for answers he knew he couldn’t find. He knew you took the answers with you, and he knew the threads you so intricately wove into him, into his veins, were unravelling until there would be nothing but a husk of a body he once knew only through your stitches.

His mother took his shaking hands in her own, forcing him to sit up straight. Her thumbs rub over his scarred knuckles. She lets out a sigh.

“I don’t know.” She mutters. Its an apology.

 He doesn’t know either. He’s sorry too.

--

[opossumloverr]

Hello hello! Sorry for being really specific here, but can I request the ROTTMNT turtles with a axolotl reader, and they have a long tail (I love tails, I’m sorry-), and they’re like smaller than Mikey, but can pack a punch? Sorry again if this is too specific, lol, you can just do the axolotl part if this is too much. Remember to drink water and take care of yourself! Thank you!

✪TURTLE BROS X AXOLOTL READER ✪

Summary:

The turtle bros with a Axolotl reader that may look small, but can absolutely kick ass

Warning(s):

None!

A/N:

Tysm for requesting this, I love axolotls, also TY FOR SO MUCH LOVE ON MY OTHER POST like what?? Anyways here we go (gender-neutral reader)

《RAPH》

He thinks you're really cool

He likes that you don't let your size get the best of you

And to be honest half of the time your here he's looking at your tail swinging back and forth

Sometimes you catch him staring...

"Yeah and so after that-" you paused to glance over at raph, who's apparently to busy looking at your tail to focus on the totally important conversation you guys were having, you gave him a quick little slap with your tail to his cheek that woke him up from his trance.

"HUH! Wha?" He looked around the room all confused, but you just continued talking.

He was surprised when you completely OBLITERATED those origami ninjas when you decided to come along on one of their missions

He thought you were gonna get hurt so he was trying to stay close to you, but when you handled them (like a boss) he was like 'damn okay I see you'

You guys definitely have each others backs

《LEO》

This man will tease you non-stop about your height

Like he will baby you, calling you a kid and stuff

He'll only stop when you knock some sense into him

And your tail...

You bet on your LIFE that he's grabbing it

Tries to be sneaky about it

You were sitting on a chair scrolling through social media, waiting for Leo to come back because he said and I quote 'I have to walk my fish' you didn't mind cause, well, it's Leo, but you suddenly feel someone trying to creep up on you, you waited for the right moment to, jump up out of your chair and kick them in the back, only to find Leo on the floor instead, "What the hell man? what are you doing?" You ask.

"Nothin'.."

Just let him give your tail a few strokes please he can't move on without knowing how it feels

《DONNIE》

Fascinated, to say the least

Like who wouldn't be, look at that lengthy tail.

He would measure it, take notes, ask questions, man's is IMMERSED

And to top all of that off, your strong? Holy moly

When you guys are fighting, he will be focusing on your moves, and how you add your tail into your attacks

He's so impressed that he gets hit by his own weapon.

"Nice momentum [Name]!" Donnie grunted.

"Thanks Don-tron, WAIT OH MY GOSH LOOK OUT" you say as you watched him get hit by his own bo staff.

Asks you to stay still sometimes so he can watch your tail move on its own

It may be a little annoying but he's having fun, in his own way.

(Nerd)

《MIKEY》

Mikey is also fascinated, he thinks you and your tail is cute

He's not the shortest anymore yayy

I'm just saying that he would doodle and draw on your tail

If you let him of course

OMG JUST IMAGINE...

"Are you done yet Mikey?" You questioned, wanting to get up and stretch.

"Just adding some finishing details and...done!" You got up to go look in a mirror and see your tail covered in flowers, smiley faces, and vines, and you noticed the little 'Mikey wuz here ;P' on your tail.

He likes that you can fight for yourself

I can imagine him watching you practice your punches and kicks.

I love Mikey so much guys

Thank you for requesting this! I feel like I messed up Donnies part a bit though, have a great day/night!

[justkpopjokes]

Colour of You: Blue

Ft. Dino/Lee Chan × gender-neutral!reader

AU: college art majors, reader has synaesthesia (or mad colour theory skills if u want instead)

Word Count: 1.9k of bullet points

A/N: fun fact, I had sound-visual and smell-temperature syanesthesia as a kid! Anyway here’s a fic that I teased back in 2017 but am only now posting! I remember one of the first readers also had synaesthesia and left a sweet comment, so as an homage to them I leaned into it ^^

This boy’s college major is dance!!

I mean, what else? Cuz dang he is amazing at dancing

Like really good

Michael Jackson is his idol, inspiration, motivation, and inner beast

((Side note, “inner beast” is my new favourite Nick Offerman quote))

So, of course, his favourite move is the moonwalk

I mean, what else?

Well, he has others, but he says it’s the moonwalk to be the best fanboy

Theatrics aside, his favourite part of the day is meeting with other visual art majors in a huge open room

It’s their clubhouse of sorts, where people can come to collaborate on things related to their major(s) and bring in whatever they want for their projects (given that they can clean it up afterwards)

You’re in Chan’s college as a Studio Arts major (there’s a reason!!), so you also go to the same visual arts club after your classes!

You love looking at what everyone else is doing so you can sketch and paint them

People think you’re really good at representing people with colour

And in fact, it’s because you have synaesthesia!

So, overtime, you could identify people and then depict them in the colour your brain assigns them by drawing/painting them!

It’s a sweet gesture you do once in a while, which you sometimes gift to the person if you’re feeling particularly inspired

But in addition to your synaesthesia (and an alternative if you don’t think you can get with the synaesthesia plot line), you also mad good at colour theory and aesthetics

So people will often ask you to find them a colour that suits them the best!

Because of all that you’re pretty well known in your small studio arts major community

But lately, you’ve been keeping to yourself and don’t start conversations on your own

And like no one knows why?? Lmao

Simple answer: You’re crushing on that cute dancer, Lee Chan, whom you see at the visual arts club 👀

Originally, you came to this hangout room to hopefully make some friends

And you did make friends!! But also you became super smitten with this guy

Like he’s so cuuuuuteeeeeee talented and passionate

It makes your heart flutter when he dances and happens to look in your direction

But talking to him feels so intimidating so it’s a huge nope™

Your first meeting was so embarrassing; it was during the second time you were at the hangout spot

You had been sitting next to one of your new friends

You were feeling pretty bored though, so your eyes wandered to some guys who were practicing a dance they choreographed and decided to draw one of them

The guy was Chan, the best dancer you’ve ever seen!

You were quietly focusing on your sketching, capturing the motion and fluidity as best you can in a still drawing

While the dancers were taking a break, you were finishing your picture by adding off-set colours to represent movement

Shades of azure and teal blue splash onto the page, looking almost like an ocean wave

Chan just happens to looks over your shoulder as he passes by

Chan: “Hey, is that me?”

You: “OH. UM—did you not want to be? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Chan: “No no, it’s okay. It looks cool! I like the blue.”

You just.

Just nod. Yeah. Thanks.

(Hoooo boy that’s too many feelings to deal with right now—)

As the days went by, you drew multiple people on one page so it would seem a little less creepy

And you were never running out of people to sketch; there was always someone performing in the open floor area of the room, or people doing drawing challenges and sitting still enough for you to have a good reference

People were always so fascinated with the colours, even more so after you gave them a quick explanation that your brain assigned it to them

Sometimes people would even wear the colour you assigned to them the next day! It was a fun thing to see them match the colour you saw in your head

Thankfully, Chan didn’t seem to mind that you drew him again, too!

Whenever he’d pass your seat—where you were always doodling in your notebook—you would get really flustered because he’d look at you and say “your drawing style is amazing!”

You pour your heart and soul into your drawings of him just because of that

His kind soul deserves it!

After about a year of you drawing people and assigning them in that club, Chan suddenly comes up to you out of nowhere

You’re a bit confused and flustered since you weren’t actually drawing him that time

Chan: “Hi, Y/N. I heard you have, uh, synaesthesia? Is that right?”

You: “Mhm. I associate people with colours.”

Chan: “Cool, I thought I heard someone mention that. I have a question for you about that, actually.”

At this point, Chan is sitting next to you, so you’re a bit antsy and struggling to stay cool and not look weird and not seem like a creep

Chan: “Do you have a colour for my friend, Jun?”

You: “Who’s that?”

Chan: “Oh, he’s the tall guy with the brown hair over there. We’re on the same dance team.”

He laughs awkwardly a bit and at that point you’re unsure whether you should be embarrassed for not knowing or if he’s embarrassed for assuming you knew already

You: “Ohh, Junhui, yeah! He’s purple to me. Like, a shade of mauve, if you know what that is. That and a darker purple. Why?”

Chan: “I was thinking of getting him a gift. Something purple would be cool! I wonder if he’ll like that!”

Chan laughs again, this time with more heart

It’s sweet ^^ So cute okay stop fawning over him

After your very short chat, Chan waves goodbye and gets up to join his friends again, so you watch them block out a performance again

They’re planning to perform at the school’s perfoming arts festival at the end of the year, so they’ve been practicing any chance that they get

Cue the dramatic sigh

You never told anyone, but ever since you first saw him, you’ve always saw Chan as that same mix of azure and teal blue

You’ve always included blue in your drawings of Chan, even if he wasn’t wearing blue

You were actually finishing up a drawing of him now, which he saw again

Chan: “You know, Y/N, you should come watch us at the music festival! Maybe you could draw us performing?”

Then some random dude shouts

“OOH WAIT IS Y/N GOING TO DRAW OUR SPECIAL PERFORMANCE”

It turns out it’s Jun, who had immediately bounded over with excitement

Jun: “That would be so cool! Please watch Y/N please please it’s my last year performing”

CUE THE NERVOUS NOD YEAH OKAY I WILL!!

“Special performance” sounds interesting though, like what specifically is special about it other than Chan being there

Anyways the weeks up to the end of the year are obviously stressful, but you—along with the other arts majors—are anticipating Chan and his friends’ performance

Especially since they’ve organized for you to have a whole easel to work on with a good view of the stage!!

((Think like. Wedding painter vibes lol))

Finally, the day of the “special” performance, you’re set up at your wooden easel, far enough from the stage that you can see everyone

Considering you’d be watching a few performances, you brought quite a few canvases with you so you could paint some other stuff

Maybe even sell them to people at the festival 🤭 the performers would probably buy some

After all the performers have finished, the sun is beginning to set…and Chan still hasn’t performed yet??

Jun said they’d be last, but it’s starting to get dark so you’re losing precious light

But then the lights turn on and Chan and Jun, along with a couple of their friends, are on center stage!!

The crowd starts getting excited again and claps as the music begins

The 4 guys on stage are wearing all-white clothes and jackets, dancing to a modern but sort of slow melody

((Think the intro of ITZY’s Wannabe, something that’s going to give you goosebumps right before the music ramps up

Alternatively, you can imagine Dino’s mixtape Zero for all of this since it was the inspiration!!))

You get right to sketching, already having a plan!!

Wow the all-white really does make this seem like a wedding tho lmao

Then the lights start to dim, and the dancers do some sort of crazy formation

CUE THE BEAT DROP and suddenly theRE’S EXPLOSIONS OF CONFETTI AND COLOUR

All 4 guys on stage have ditched their white clothing and did a quick change, revealing the colourful fabric underneath

THE PARTY. HAS. STARTED!!!

2 of the guys, one being Jun, are wearing purple, just like you had mentioned to Chan before

Meanwhile, Chan himself (along with their remaining friend) is wearing blue!

💙💙💙 BLUE!! 💙💙💙

You’re so taken by surprise that you can barely remember what you’re doing

Everyone is dancing to the music at this point except you, sitting still in front of your easel, paintbrush in hand, jaw dropped, looking up at Chan with heart eyes

By the time the performance is over, you’ve managed to regain composure and depict the whirlwind of blue and purple on your canvas

Some confetti even gets stuck onto the canvas which is pretty cool

Many people passing by compliment you!! You sell a couple paintings too (nice)

But no one can beat Chan’s praise!!

Once he and his team go over to see what you’ve made, they’re blown away by the pop of cool tones you added to the canvas

(Jun wants to hang it up in their practice room lmao)

Once the festival is officially over and people are beginning to leave, Chan decides to help you clean up your paint supplies

You chat about his performance—turns out, he was the one who came up with the colour idea

Chan: “I really was thinking of getting Jun a gift since he’s graduating soon, but then I thought we could use your colours as a wow factor. I noticed you drew me in blue a lot, so I just guessed that was my colour.”

Chan had always been noticing you; after all, he loved your drawings

How creative they were,

The colours you assign to people,

How their colours never changed…

And how he was always those same shades of blue!

But around you, he never felt blue haha

Because he likes you even more than your drawings

In truth, he had a crush on you too, ever since he knew he inspired your wonderful art and you inspired him in turn

He finds you so cute

How you push your hair back when you’re thinking and he can see your face better

How you turn pink every time he walks by (yeah, he notices)

How he hears from your friend that you completely melt after he compliments you…

And he tells you all of this with the remaining adrenaline from his performance today

Which, of course, you confess that he’s right about that last thing…and that you like him too!

So all he can do is scoop you into a twirling hug and make you feel like an ocean wave of blue has washed over all your senses

Blue, the colour of you—both of you.