#this doodle is so shitty but it will do aaah

[lankylunatic]

It their birf Putting 151 candles on a cake is a great idea and could never go wrong I didn't have enough time to get something proper done DX

[openminded-freak]

Wally x Feral!Reader Pt. 3

I woke up on the floor with a killer headache and a lot of questions.

First of all, where the actual hell am I? I know damn well this isn't my house because there's not a single object in my home that is as colorful as these fucking walls. There was paint splatters everywhere and not a drop of white to be found on them. There were also painting supplies littered around the room, like paint cans and brushes.

And second of all, what's up with this shitty headache? I know it's not a hangover because there's not a drop of alcohol in this neighborhood. Trust me, I've looked.

I figured I'd sit up and look around. At least I wouldn't be laying on the nasty ass floor. Seriously, when's the last time this room's been swept?

There were papers taped all over the walls. Some were cute drawings of the neighborhood and it's inhabitants, some were detailed paintings of random objects, like an apple or a colorful feather, and there was also just random doodles. That wasn't what got me concerned, however. The drawings of me were what really got my attention. Not just drawings though, there was messages along with them.

"You're the apple of my eye."

"I'm your best friend."

"I can't see you. Do you see me?"

"You don't like me, Neighbor."

"I'm looking at you."

I was so distracted by the messages that I didn't notice him come into the room until I heard a quiet giggle behind me. I whipped around to see Wally standing there with his arms behind his back, smiling.

"Dafuq?-"

"Neighbor! I'm so glad you're awake.. You were asleep for a long time.. Ha.. Ha.." He stood there staring at me for moment, waiting for me to say something. I just stared at him blankly.

"Ha.. Anyways.. I brought you here so we could bond together! I know we had a rough start, but I want to be your friend-"

"You literally kidnapped me but pop off king."

His smile became strained at that. "Ahem.. As I was saying.. I think we could become great friends if you'd give me a chance, Neighbor.. Home won't let you leave until you do.."

I gave him a weird look. I mean, yeah, Home can lock all the doors but has this mf never heard of windows? Crazy aaah.

He ignored my look. "Did you like the messages I left for you? I think they're the most.."

"What up, I'm Jared, I'm 19, and I never fucking learned how to read."

"What-" He didn't get to finish whatever he was gonna say before I picked up a paint can and shattered a window.

Wally yelped and Home screeched something terrible. The noise sounded like it was coming out of the walls themselves and it was ear-piercingly loud. It didn't affect me much though. After all of the death metal that I used to blare through my speakers, I was almost deaf.

"IT'S FREE REAL ESTATE, BITCH," I screamed as I leapt through the broken window. I hit the ground hard but got up quick and started running to Julie's. I'll hide in her fucking hair if I have to, as long as I'm safe from this fucked up muppet.

[arsons]

“Wow—you’re looking just a liiittle bit antsy at that, you know?”

“Antsy!?” Momota bursts, the perfect mix of astonished and exasperated. “You’re gonna fucking call me—what, antsy in response to what the hell you just dropped!?”

Ouma rolls his eyes and turns to inspect his nails. “Jeez,” he sighs, “I didn’t realize you’d get so gung-ho over some old bike parts.”

“Cause Akamatsu fucking hates bikes!” Momota retaliates.

“Momota-chan, you’re toootally overreacting. In what world are bikes really gonna ruin her life?”

“Uh, in this fucking world, apparently!” Momota yells, gesturing around them with open arms.

Ouma glances left, right, then left again, as if by chance he might find what Momota is emphasizing. He pointedly does not. He scrunches his face up. “What, did they kill her family?”

“That’s not—!”

“Should we discuss the ethics of this? I feel like this is opening a reeeally great ethical discussion for us to have. Say, Momota-chan, where does your trauma stem from?”

Momota sets a hand on his forehead and takes a deep breath before continuing. “Fucking hell, dude. Listen, I—“

“You’ve said the word “‘fuck,’” Ouma stresses, “exactly six times since I mentioned the bike.” He tilts his head to the side. “Didja know that?”

Momota lifts his hand from his face, exposing his eyes once more; somehow, through his anger, he almost manages to look impressed. “Were you actually counting?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah,” Ouma answers. “Of course I was. Because I hang off all the words you say, Momota-chan. I overthink everything you say. All the time.”

Momota blinks at him.

“Always.”

Momota blinks again, slowly. “Not your best lie,” he says.

“...No,” Ouma admits. He covers his mouth. “Nishishi! Ah, Momota-chan, if you wanted a better one, you could’ve just—!”

“Anyway,” Momota interrupts, “what part of sculpting Akamatsu out of bike parts is—what, a fucking prank to you?”

Ouma pouts at that; clearly, Momota is missing out on the entertaining part of the endeavor. How un-fun of him.

“You’re reeeally no fun, huh?” Ouma taps his foot moodily against the ground. “Gosh, have you ever even pulled a practical joke in your life?”

“Yeah, and—“ Momota scrambles for words, “and it didn’t involve people’s psychological fucking fears, alright!?”

“Well, this one’s just like that!” Ouma responds. “Except that it does.”

“That’s completely fucking—! Ouma, that’s—! Oh, my God—“

“Aaah!” Ouma chides, cutting into Momota’s spluttering. “Okay, you seem pretty mad. Are you mad? Should I remind you why you’re here, or should I—?”

“Don’t,” Momota suddenly says. He swallows hard, then rubs at the back of his head. “I...”

Ouma waits.

Momota looks away. “Okay, you know what?” he says. “I don’t even gotta fucking be here. I’m doing this because—“

“Because big, strong men always live up to their promises?” Ouma finishes for him. On a whim, he decides to embellish his words by posing to flex.

It goes badly.

Momota cringes.

“Oh,” Ouma scoffs, standing back upright, “what, like that’s not what you were gonna say? Momota-chan is waaay too predictable with his words! The Luminary of the Stars always—“

“Real men,” Momota interrupts, leveling an accusatory look at him, “don’t cheat at the challenges they get posed.”

Ouma waves his arms out exaggeratedly. “Ugh, it wasn’t cheeeating,” he drawls, his pitch raising mockingly, “to kiss—“

“That’s enough!” Momota interrupts, his pitch also raising. “That’s—fuck, okay, fine! I’ll make your fucking sculpture. Just—what, are we gonna get Angie to help, or something?”

“Oh,” Ouma huffs, “no waaay, baby!” He taps his thumb against his chest. “This is all 100% authentic and homemade! Fresh, organic, and straight from the heart!”

Momota frowns. “I can’t fucking sculpt for shit,” he says.

Ouma sighs, probably a bit too loud and for a bit too long. “You reeeally wanna get Angie-chan?” he whines. “Wow...I guess real men do cheat at the challenges they get p—“

“Fine!” Momota snaps. “Fine. Fuck. I said fine. Fucking hell, we can do it whenever.” He pauses and frowns even deeper. “But just so you know, I still think this is a shitty fucking thing to do.”

“Y’know, I thought it was a pretty shitty thing to kiss—“

“H-Hey!”

“—a guy’s hand—“

“I just said to—!”

“—while you’re—“

“Knock it off!” Momota finishes, red in the face. “Just shut up about it! I said I’ll fucking help you, okay? And I will. So s-stop talking about—all that,” he waves, “and just—get on with it already!”

Momota looks away, self-conscious. Ouma almost laughs at him; instead, he swallows it down in favor of getting a few free seconds to stare openly at his profile. He seems embarrassed. It’s delightful.

“Alright, fiiine,” Ouma finally concedes. “Since you’re so overly eager to get started, I can whip out the blueprints.”

As Ouma unfolds a diagrammed drawing from his shirt pocket, he catches a glimpse of Momota’s unpleasant expression once more. He shakes his head before smoothing out the wrinkles.

“Don’t be so upset!” he offers. “This is gonna be a great character building experience. Akamatsu-chan’s gonna face her fears head-on, like a true manly-man! Like you! So care a little less about that part, mkay?”

Momota bites at the corner of his mouth. He leans closer to get a look at the sheet Ouma’s produced. “Whatever, dude,” is all he says.

Ouma blinks at him. “Whatever?”

“Whatever, just—let’s just get this over with. Even if I don’t know fucking how to.”

Ouma hands his paper over. “Hey, don’t worry about that!” he says. “I mean, it should be simple enough. It’s not, like, rocket science.”

Momota’s eyes shift to his.

Ouma smiles. “Y’know?”

When Momota smacks at the back of his head, it’s just light enough for Ouma to tell that it’s insincere. He lifts the paper up and away for inspection.

It only takes a few seconds for his eyebrows to go up. “Shit, man,” he says. “This is...”

Ouma clicks his tongue from beside him. “Good?” he tries. “Extensive?”

”I—uh. Yeah, actually. Holy shit, dude, you made all of this yourself?”

Ouma sniffs and turns his head up. “I don’t do things halfway, Momota-chan. You know that.”

Momota snorts, lightly. “I guess I do, but...”

”But...?” Ouma prompts.

”But—damn, this is...”

”Yeah.” Ouma shrugs his shoulders, then claps his hands suddenly. “So we’re gonna do it, riiight? Right, Momota-chan? We’re gonna do it?”

Momota stares at the blueprints for a second more, twisting them to read the print. The sheet might be standard sized, but Ouma’s packed a surprising amount onto it; it looks nothing short of an official document, produced by someone with actual experience. It is both good and extensive—Ouma wasn’t lying with those ones. There’s diagrams, instructions, specific parts listed, and—insulting doodles of Akamatsu towards the corners, yeah, but the rest is completely legit.

Momota swallows. Ouma might be one total, downright weirdo, but he apparently knows his stuff. Or, he’s dedicated to what he wants to accomplish. It’s...kind of unexpected, really. For him.

He folds the paper back together. “I mean,” Momota breathes. “I—I guess we are. I...still owe you shit, after all.”

Ouma grins. “Nishishi! And all because you can’t arm wrestle if your opponent decides to—“

Momota smacks him again. This one is light, too—light enough that it ruffles Ouma’s hair out of place, and when he squawks and starts to rearrange it, Momota turns and heads for the door.

Ouma looks up a moment later, spotting him leaving. “Hey!” he calls, fingers still tangled in his hair. “You going somewhere?”

Momota glances back and laughs out loud at his appearance; Ouma, pouting, mid-disheveling himself, is—an amusing sight, at the least.

He turns to lean against the frame, rolling his eyes. “Come on, kid,” he snorts, pulling it open. “We’re going to get your fuckin’ bike parts, and you’re the one buying.”

[jwbshwhsbsbs]

ooH @fakeanimeboy thank you for tagging me!!

imm sorry this is probably a mess but i like typed everything out and like ahshdbd

what’s your name/nickname?

mella, melly either one is cool!

what are your pronouns?

she/her

what’s your sexuality?

questioned for a while, pretty sure i FuCking love women

what’s the meaning behind your url?

it’s based off of an old character of mine from like a couple of years agoo she’s made out of slime ehdbd

how old are you?

15

babey

what’s your birthday/star sign?

august 27th, virgoo

what are your hobbies?

drawing, writing, bitching, and composing 30 second shitty songs on garage band

what music do you like?

really it depends on how I’m feeling ahdb

if im yearning then it’s soft and corny shit

any other time it’s anything loud

do you have any pets/want any?

ive got a bitch of a ginger cat and id like really fucking kill for a iguana or chameleon!!

how many languages do you speak?

aaah only English sadly

what are your favorite anime/manga?

haikyuu has been a favorite for more than a year now but other than that

mob psycho 100, given, soul eater, the promised neverland, your lie in april, and maybe assassination classroom? ( haven’t rewatched that in like,, two years..)

why do you love haikyuu?

i really love the interesting dynamics between the characters and just the characters themselves! they’re like.. inspiring or some shit

and maybe im gay for yachi

who are your favorite characters?

iwaa, akaashi, kiyoko, yachi, oikawa, kenma, hinata, mika, daishou, ushijima, and tendou

what are your favorite ships?

i love them all but the first that come to mbd are iwaoi, ushiten, sugumika, kenhina, iwadai, iwaaka, ushiiwa ( ok i have a lot of iwa ships h ) tsukkihina, kiyoyachi and like

is there a ship name for kiyoko and yui?? cause i love that a lot

what are your favorite fic/writers?

i don’t particularly have specific favorites but i do read some of @paintbrushyy sfw fics and they’re like.. adorable,, check her out

i have a couple saved ones so here’s these!

iwaoi - https://archiveofourown.org/works/2592557

iwaoi - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3293729

iwaoi / kyouhaba - https://archiveofourown.org/users/hcjime/pseuds/hcjime

yeah i happen to read a lot of iwaoi fics ahaaa

if anyone has any ushiten fic reCs please send them my way!!

who are your favorite artists?

kat-doodles draws a lot of adorable ushiten art and like aaaa i lov a lot ahsd

i don’t have a lot of other favorites that are on the top of my head but i reblog a bunch of art so yeah ahshdb

which character(s) do you think you’re the most like?

hnnmmm maybe hanamaki?

if you played volleyball, which position would you play? ( or would you be manger/cheer squad? )

i personally think libero would be the most fun ( and practical for me cause im sho r t ) because aaa it just looks so cool too!

which character(s) do you think you’d be best friend(s) with in real life?

hmm hinata, tanaka, matsukawa, hanamaki, kuroo, tendou, and bokuto? uhg absolute bullshit squad if you ask me

which character(s) do you think would be your enemy(ies) in real life?

uhg id probably want to strangle oikawa but never get the guts to do so

hello howdy i tag : @oisugasuga @sugakun @unicwrniu