I know the anime is kinda nonsense but I still love it somehow. All ways lead to Whitehead characters. Anyways
Random headcanons on him + some romantic bullshit
• He loves bright neon signs and can spend a long time simply staring at them.
• He often hums strange little tunes to himself, even during serious conversations.
• He barely notices fatigue when he's interested in something.
• He has a poor understanding of personal space and constantly stands too close to people.
• He might suddenly disappear in the middle of a conversation because something else caught his attention.
• He enjoys sitting in high places like rooftops, railings, fences, and even cabinets.
• He never wears a watch, time means very little to him.
• He dislikes silence and usually finds some way to create noise around himself.
• He becomes attached to things that evoke pleasant associations for him.
• He is terrible at cooking and finds it incredibly boring.
• He's extremely curious and constantly touches things that don't belong to him.
• He enjoys watching people and trying to predict what they'll do next.
• He can remember the smallest detail about someone and unexpectedly bring it up months later.
• He can't stand boredom and starts looking for entertainment within minutes.
• He smiles for no apparent reason.
• He rarely sits still, constantly tapping his foot, fidgeting with objects, or pacing around.
• If someone entrusts him with an item, he'll take surprisingly good care of it, even if he doesn't understand its value.
• He loves rainy weather because neon lights look even prettier reflected in puddles at night.
• He gets easily distracted by beautiful colors and unusual patterns.
• He can suddenly ask extremely personal questions as if they're completely normal.
If He Were in a Relationship? Well, let's see...
• He would remember everything related to the person he loves: their favorite drink, music, habits, and even random comments they made.
• He would constantly look for reasons to stay close to them, even when there isn't one.
• He would be very jealous, although he might not fully understand why he feels that way.
• He would enjoy simply watching his partner while they're busy with something.
• Any praise or attention from them would genuinely make his day.
• He would often bring odd gifts that he personally finds beautiful or interesting. (For example, he will rip out someone's heart and present it as a gesture of love.)
• He would struggle to understand hints and prefer direct communication.
• He would value comfortable silence just as much as conversation. (Yes, he doesn't like silence, but not with his beloved, because with his beloved it is a comfortable silence)
• He might suddenly appear beside them simply because he missed them.(On some level, he also likes that slight, brief expression of horror on their faces.)
• He would be fiercely loyal to the person he considers the most important in his world.
Idk if I can call it headcanons. Whole verse is pure headcanons people agree to call canon. Every headcanon feel like a new canon fact like fr...
Time for some oldgen hcs
Jeff is very thin, with pale, dry skin. He is nearly blind in one eye, and his long hair is always dirty and tangled. His clothes are never clean either. Most likely, you'll notice the disgusting smell of rot and metal before you even notice Jeff himself. His repulsive appearance, lacking eyelids and a nose, along with the carved smile on his face is enough to frighten anyone.
As for his brother and everything he did in the past, Jeff couldn't care less. In fact, he finds it amusing. He never misses a chance to mock Lewis and remind him what a "masterpiece" he created on Jeff's face. Jeff often taunts and provokes his brother, frustrated that Lewis rarely reacts to his attempts to get under his skin. A few times, however, he has gotten punched in the face for it. Even then, he found it funny, entertained by the fact that his younger brother still couldn't bring himself to finally kill him and get his revenge.
He often forgets that his dog even exists, despite the animal's unwavering loyalty. But on the occasions when he does remember, he shows affection mixed with a fair amount of teasing.
Jeffrey is the biggest nuisance in the entire mansion. Nearly all of the residents dislike him because of his personality. He loves breaking the boredom with another fight, so there's almost never a peaceful day in the mansion. Whenever Jeff leaves for a mission, everyone breathes a sigh of relief, they finally get a few hours away from the psychopath. His evenings are always the same: he either gets drunk like a pig and goes to sleep or causes another mess. Usually, however, Masky and Hoodie quickly step in and restrain him.
He also has a peculiar relationship with the two Janes. He absolutely loves the fact that both women still hate him for his "little pranks," one of which ruined one of their lives. Seeing the result of his work embodied in the Eternal is a special kind of pleasure for him, which is why he "likes" her more than the Killer.
When it comes to victims, Jeff rarely rushes. He enjoys watching them suffer and approaches the process in an extremely twisted way. Jeff is notoriously perverted, making his victims even more unfortunate. During a kill, he completely loses himself, his mind becomes clouded, and he loses all self-control. This is exactly why Lewis is often assigned to accompany him on missions ordered by Slenderman. In that state, Jeff can easily attract unwanted attention, so someone has to keep an eye on him.
Jeff is highly unstable and incredibly stubborn. He often talks to himself, and the smallest inconvenience can send him into a rage. He is also extremely narcissistic. He sees himself as perfection and firmly believes that no creature in existence is more beautiful than he is. He's often found staring at himself in a mirror, admiring his own reflection. Even in ordinary conversations, he never misses an opportunity to remind others what an "ideal" he is and refuses to accept any criticism. Any insult or suggestion that he isn't perfect immediately enrages him, which is why the other mansion residents usually just ignore him whenever he starts talking about himself.
If Jeff were to fight the other residents of the mansion to the death, he would lose to most of them despite his agility and hyperactive nature.
Jeff has an extremely tense relationship with B. Jack. They can't stand each other, and clashes between them are common, usually because Jeff starts them. The fact that Jack is larger and stronger doesn't bother him in the slightest, so he eagerly throws himself into conflict. Because of them, things in the mansion are frequently broken.
Yet somehow, this psychopath managed to find a good friend in the virus teenager. Nobody knows how Ben is able to tolerate Jeff. Their friendship is quite unusual, and while arguments and fights do happen between them, they're far less frequent than the conflicts Jeff has with everyone else.
(Let's imagine Gangle never gave up graphic design.)
Gangle always woke up whenever she felt like it. In the mornings, she drank sweet tea and had a sandwich before getting ready for university.
After classes, Gangle would often stop by small cafés for a cup of tea or a slice of cake while sketching something in her sketchbook. This was always her favorite part of the day, it was when she could finally relax and forget about the stress of studying for at least an hour.
In the evenings, Gangle played various games on her phone and occasionally posted something on her channel. She usually went to bed quite late, so she rarely got enough sleep.
Pomni
Pomni often discovered that she had slept through her alarm, forcing her to rush to work while desperately trying to eat at least something on the way.
At work, she was constantly on the verge of falling asleep. Day after day, Pomni mostly sorted paperwork and occasionally stood at the register. The routine exhausted her, so she often searched for excitement by exploring abandoned buildings. She would come home with dozens of photos.
In the evenings, she drank what felt like a hundred cups of tea while watching TV shows and thinking about how boring the next day would probably be.
Ragatha
Ragatha always woke up early, without the usual "five more minutes." She believed that the earlier you got up, the more time you had to get things done. Later, she would make breakfast for her family and head off to the farm to take care of the animals.
Sometimes her mother would ask for help sorting out real estate paperwork, and Ragatha was always happy to help.
Later in the evening, she would wander through the fields, collecting wildflowers.
Before bed, Ragatha read books and occasionally spent some time on social media, though never for long. She always went to sleep strictly according to her schedule.
Kinger
Kinger woke up fairly easily, knowing there was no point in lying in bed any longer. His wife greeted him in the kitchen with a delicious breakfast. After downing a cup of coffee, he would head off to work.
His workdays were quite busy, and sometimes he didn't even have time for a break, which left him exhausted.
When he returned home tired from work, his wife would welcome him back. They would have a nice dinner together and later watch a movie.
Jax
Jax woke up ridiculously late, and even that was a struggle for him. His only way to wake himself up was another energy drink in the morning.
He took his time getting ready for theater school. He was constantly late, but honestly couldn't care less. While gathering everything he needed, he would scroll through TikTok, making himself even later.
After classes, he usually met up with friends and wandered around different parts of the city.
He always came home late, stopping by a store to buy a ready-made dinner because cooking definitely wasn't his strong suit. He still went to bed late, just like always.
Zooble
(Let's imagine she works as a tattoo artist.)
Between appointments, Zooble would use her breaks to run to a convenience store for a soda or step outside for a lonely smoke.
She had a really hard time waking up early, but she had no choice, every day was packed with clients and appointments. Most of her day was spent sitting in her tattoo studio. She got ready as quickly as possible, yet somehow still managed to be late, earning plenty of complaints from the salon administrator.
By the time she got home, she was practically collapsing onto the floor. After that, she would throw together a half-hearted dinner because she had no energy left. Then she would stay up until around 2 a.m., scrolling through social media, checking bookings, and posting photos of her work.
The longer you live with him, the stronger and more intense his obsession and dependence on you become. During everyday life, he starts finding signs of rejection in your words and behavior, causing him frequent stress. Peter never talks to you about it because he believes it's his own fault. Instead, he begins making deeper cuts on himself so deep that, before long, you start noticing them even in obvious places. Because of this, you eventually take him to a psychiatrist.
As a review blogger, he regularly receives products from various brands to feature in his videos. After your arrival (even if it may not have been entirely voluntary), he often invites you to appear in his reviews, where the two of you test different products together. For him, it's another excuse to combine work with something enjoyable while also spending time with you.
At night, while you're asleep in your room, he may quietly enter. Most of the time, he simply approaches your bed and watches you sleep, occasionally running his thumb across your palm. To him, there's nothing strange about this, even if it might seem unsettling to you at first.
Quite often, you can hear sounds coming from his room, it's video tutorials on various household topics such as doing laundry, ironing, and similar chores. When he finally allowed you to take short walks near his house after a certain period of time, he spent that time watching guides on how to load clothes into the washing machine, where to put the detergent, and then trying to figure out how to start the machine, since he hadn't used it in a very long time.
• Loid always double-checks that the front door is locked, even if he locked it himself. Even with an excellent memory and responsibility, it is always better to be on the safe side.
• He drinks coffee before having a proper conversation with anyone in the morning. It's not because he can’t do anything without it, it's because it’s a stupid weakness, it’s just his ritual as a person, and not as a spy
• If someone in the house gets sick, he's at their side with medicine and a thermometer within minutes. This is a manifestation of care and practicality all rolled into one. (Rapid Response Mom)
• Sometimes he buys snacks that aren't on the shopping list just because he remembers Yor or Anya likes them.
• He often catches himself smiling at Anya's antics, even though he tries to stay serious. This behavior is impractical and irrational, but Loid will not realize this until the very end.
• He always carries a small first-aid kit with him.
• He never leaves the house without making sure everyone has eaten.
• When Anya shows him a drawing, he carefully looks at every detail. He will convince himself that this attention to “stupid little things” is just a precaution for an emergency, but he is already more of a father than a spy.
• He enjoys rare, peaceful evenings when nobody has anywhere to be, but at the same time they make him very nervous because of his overthinking.
• He has PTSD
• He'll absentmindedly fix a loved one's collar or smooth down their hair.
• If something breaks around the house, he'll try to repair it himself first.
• He often brings home books or magazines he thinks Anya might enjoy.
• Even when relaxing, he tends to sit with perfect posture.
• Sometimes he falls asleep in an armchair with paperwork still in his hands. (Previously, he couldn’t allow himself to relax so much, especially when surrounded by people, but he himself didn’t notice how domesticated he became with Yor and Anya.)
• He likes a quiet home, but if it's too quiet for too long, he starts getting suspicious and nervous. (Post-traumatic stress disorder after Anya)
• He tends to ignore his own exhaustion until someone points it out.
• He frequently says, "Just in case," before doing something overly prepared or cautious.
• He keeps spare pens everywhere,like fr, his desk, his coat pocket, his briefcase.
• He unconsciously straightens things that are slightly crooked.
Ah, this hcs is really old ,but I found them so why not to post? Hope I didn't this earlier
Oh god, if you ended up dating this guy... good luck to your nervous system. The guy barely had any relationship experience. Hell, not even online flings, really. (Unless you count people purring at him for loot drops during matches.) So he’s completely lost. This guy is literally the embodiment of anxiety and insecurity. To him, love is very different from friendship, which means it’s ten times harder. Despite having hundreds of otome games behind him, Shroud has absolutely no idea how real relationships work. He only picked out the routes he found interesting and hot, and trust me, there wasn’t even a hint of healthy relationships in those. Bro built his entire romantic worldview on the wrong characters.
Jealousy is completely normal for him because of his insecurities. His biggest fear is you leaving him for someone else. It’s already hard enough for him to open up and trust someone, and distance from the person he got so deeply attached to feels like the end of the world to him. He gets jealous constantly, even if you just stole his teammate, but he fully realizes those are the dumbest reasons to feel jealous over. He hates this part of himself and will keep silent about his feelings until the very end. Even at gunpoint he wouldn’t admit it because he doesn’t want to burden you with his problems.
His jealousy shows itself in different ways depending on the situation and how bad it gets. He can quietly endure it all day, then suddenly start casually tormenting you with questions like:
“So, what do you think about that guy?”
“His voice is annoying, don’t you think?”
“Would you still love me if I were a worm?”
And so on.
But he can also get active about it. Idia suddenly becomes really talkative and arrogant, constantly trying to put the other person down though that usually only happens in games. Either way, his clinginess toward you increases dramatically, and the aggression in his gameplay rises too and unfortunately, not always toward the opponents.
In any case, Shroud’s jealousy is visible from space.
So, I recently watched Talentless Nana and somehow I liked that so here is some content.
I thought about AU when Nana is one of the others espers. Not much but still some thoughts.
Nana is one of the espers
If Nana herself were an esper, her ability definitely wouldn’t be something openly destructive like fire manipulation or teleportation. Nana is far too, let's call it, “quiet” of a character for that. Her power would be psychological type.
Her ability would probably be called something like “False Reflection” or “White Noise.”
She would be able to subtly influence people’s perception. Not full mind control, but more like gentle manipulation: making people doubt their memories, confusing their sense of time, causing them to overlook small details, amplifying fears or suspicions.
The longer someone stayed around her, the stronger the effect became. Because of that, people would start trusting her almost automatically without understanding why.
She would hate her own ability. Because she’d never know whether someone genuinely cared about her or if it was just her power affecting them.
As a child, she probably accidentally manipulated the emotions of people around her, which made her grow up extremely cautious about relationships. Despite that, outwardly she would still remain sweet, friendly, and “safe-looking.” Nana understands perfectly well how others see her, and she uses that as a weapon.
Her power would be almost useless in direct combat. If someone cornered her physically, she’d be done for. That’s why she would rely even more heavily on analysis, traps, and psychological tactics.
She would immediately get along with calm and observant people. The kind who don’t pressure her or constantly demand emotional attention from her. She’d probably like quiet introverts, intelligent but emotional people, people who can sit in silence comfortably, people with dark humor.
( She would slowly become friends with Nanao and only on her own initiative get to know him better, he was hardly the first on her list, but nevertheless, she still liked him. She would have become friends with Michiru almost like in canon, because she attributed her behavior to the action of her ability. She would find Kyouya strange, but nice. Maybe they would just be buddies. She most likely got along just as well with Fuuko.)
On the other hand, loud, impulsive, and aggressively dominant people would drain her very quickly. Especially controlling people. She would be extremely wary of telepaths or empaths. Almost paranoid around them.
(She would dislike Kaori and Kirara not only because she bullies her friend, but also because she finds them disgusting. She might have avoided Koharu. Moguo, his gang, and Kori too. Without knowing about Rentarou's true nature, she would most likely have liked him. Shinji and Sasaki would have given her strange feelings, so they'd be out of the question. But Tsunekichi would have evoked nothing but disgust.)
(+ if her character is the same then if someone ever saw the “real” her exhausted, angry, scared, Nana would either start avoiding that person or become deeply attached to them.)
She’d most likely fall in love not with a “perfect” person, but with someone who noticed her lies understood she was manipulative and still stayed by her side. With her superpower she only wishes to be seen.
(Potential with Kyouya and Koharu ,yeah)
At first, she would probably see that person as a threat.
Her love would be very anxious. She’d constantly analyze her partner’s tone, pauses, expressions, and behavior for reassurance. At the same time, Nana would show affection through acts of care like memorizing habits, helping quietly behind the scenes, making sure they’ve eaten, protecting them even when it hurts her.
She’s jealous, but in a hidden way. She wouldn’t make scenes, instead, she’d grow colder and more observant, paying attention to every little detail.
If someone truly became precious to her, it would be the first time she used her ability not for survival or manipulation, but for protection and that would become her greatest weakness.
+ my biggest headcanon. Nana is sound like song: "Sometimes" [Mattyeux & Princess Chelsea]
You walked into the workshop, and he noticed the new thing immediately, not because of your pleased expression, not even because of the way you walked. August sensed foreign material with the instincts of a professional whose perception was tuned to recognize cut, texture, and fabric quality.
His gaze landed on you and froze.
You were wearing a new coat, soft, ash-gray, made from some pleasant-looking wool. Long, slightly fitted, with large pockets and intentionally rough stitches along the collar. You looked good in it, very good even, but it wasn’t his work, not his fabric, not something shaped by his hands.
August didn’t say a word. He simply finished pinning a sleeve onto the mannequin with an unnatural slowness, carefully set the needle aside, placed the pins down with silent precision, and only then turned toward you. His face was smooth like perfectly ironed silk, not a wrinkle, not a shadow of irritation, but in his eyes, behind the red lenses of his glasses, flashed that same gleam he usually hid behind loud laughter and dramatic gestures.
— “Come in, darling,” his voice was calm and polite. Too polite for someone who usually shouted
— “My muse!” the moment you entered.
— “I just finished sketches for the new uniform designs. As always, inspired by your silhouette.”
You moved to hang the coat on the rack by the entrance, the same hook where your favorite sweater, the one he had made for you, usually hung. August followed the motion like someone watching a poisonous butterfly he desperately wanted to crush but couldn’t because it was beautiful.
— “You like it?” he finally asked, stepping away from the table.
He touched the coat with only the tips of his fingers, careful, almost disgusted, the way people touch something someone else's and potentially infectious. His fingers slid across the collar, judging the fabric. August inhaled faintly, then his hand moved to the shoulder seam, and he grimaced so subtly you only noticed because you knew his face by heart.
— “The cut…” he drawled. “Acceptable. But the seams…” He shook his head, and there was so much professional contempt in the gesture, as though this wasn’t a coat but an insult to tailoring itself.
— “Too rough. Wrong thread. And the stitching jumps. Look here.” He pointed at the armhole.
— “See? Either the machine was poorly adjusted, or the hands were crooked. Probably the second.“
You opened your mouth to explain that it was a gift from a friend in another city, that you simply liked the color, and honestly, why was this suddenly an interrogation? But August was already speaking again, quieter this time, the kind of voice he only used when he was boiling inside and desperately trying to hide it.
— “And the color. Ash.”
He removed his glasses, cleaned them, put them back on, and stared at the coat as if it had personally offended him.
— “Ash, my muse. It buries you. Do you understand? It extinguishes the inner fire I try so hard to emphasize. It makes you…” He paused, searching for the word. “Flat. Without dimension. Without life.”
August spoke softly with that dangerous, hissing whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You hadn’t even known he could sound like this. What burned inside him wasn’t ordinary jealousy, not “who gave this to you?” or “why wasn’t it me?” It was the jealousy of a creator, an artist for whom your body was the most important canvas in the world. The acid eating him alive had nothing to do with someone else daring to touch you. It was because someone else had dared to dress you in something that hadn’t passed through his filter.
— “You know,” he continued, stepping back and crossing his arms, his gaze flickering between you and the coat, “when I create a dress for you, I don’t think only about appearance. I calculate how the light will fall across the folds when you move. How the fabric will settle when you turn your head. How it’ll shimmer when you laugh.”
He paused, and vulnerability finally slipped into his voice beneath all the forcefulness.
— “I put intention into every stitch. Protection. I don’t just want you to be beautiful. I want people to see you for who you are. And this…”
He nodded toward the coat, lips twisting with something close to disgust.
— “This is just fabric. No soul. No history. No me.”
And finally you exhaled, because you realized it had never really been about the coat.
— “August,” you started softly, taking a step toward him. “It was a gift. I didn’t choose it.”
He jerked his shoulder sharply, like brushing off a fly.
— “A gift?” he repeated, and for the first time that childish, disarming hurt slipped into his voice.
— “Who? Who dared? I’ll kill that aesthetic vandal. No, first I’ll ask how they dared choose this for you. Then I’ll kill them.”
— “Her.”
— “Especially her.”
He turned toward you, and suddenly the professional mask vanished entirely. In front of you was just August, messy, flushed, eyes full of something hot and turbulent.
— “Damn it, I… I’m insanely jealous,” he blurted out, and there wasn’t a gram of embarrassment in the confession, only truth.
— “I know it’s stupid. I know it’s just a coat. But it’s on you. And I didn’t make it. I didn’t put myself into it. And that… that…”
He grabbed his head and started pacing through the workshop, wildly gesturing with his hands.
— “It’s like someone repainting your portrait. And painting you wrong, do you understand? Wrong brush. Wrong palette. And everyone would look at it and say, ‘Ah, what a beautiful girl!’ but it wouldn’t actually be you. Just something vaguely similar!”
He stopped in front of you, breathing hard like he’d just run a marathon.
— “Take it off,” he asked quietly. “Please. Right now.”
You removed it, and the coat fell onto the chair like something unnecessary, foreign, something disrupting the harmony of his world. August exhaled with his entire body, from head to toe, and within seconds he was beside you again. His hands settled on your shoulders where the unfamiliar fabric had been moments ago, gripping slightly, like he was wiping away traces of it.
— “Thank you,” he whispered. “Sorry. I’m insane. I know.”
— “Insane,” you agreed without malice, pressing your nose against his chest. “But my insane.”
He hugged you tightly enough to make your bones creak and rested his chin on top of your head. And while you stood there listening to his frantic heartbeat finally calm down, you could feel his fingers absentmindedly smoothing over your back checking if any marks from those rough foreign seams were still there.
— “I’ll make you a new one,” he said, and now the hurt was gone from his voice, replaced only by excitement.
— “Better. Warmer. And the color…”
He leaned back to look at your face, eyes already burning with inspiration again.
— “You’ll look like… like a sunset beam. Or moonlight on water. No, like—”
— “August,” you interrupted with a smile. “I liked that one too.”
— “That one no longer exists,” he cut in immediately. Releasing you, he already rushed back toward the desk, snatching up paper and a pencil.
— “It won’t exist. Never again. Do you hear me? Never again will foreign fabric touch your skin. I forbid it. This is… this is a declaration of war.”
He kept talking while you watched him, messy, flushed, eyes blazing, a man who had just thrown a full emotional breakdown over a coat and all you could think was: God, I love you, you insane tailor.
The coat stayed hanging over the chair until evening. Later, he moved it away not throwing it out, because even in jealousy he still respected someone else’s craftsmanship. But he hid it somewhere it wouldn’t catch his eye.
Ah, this hcs is really old ,but I found them so why not to post? Hope I didn't this earlier
Oh god, if you ended up dating this guy... good luck to your nervous system. The guy barely had any relationship experience. Hell, not even online flings, really. (Unless you count people purring at him for loot drops during matches.) So he’s completely lost. This guy is literally the embodiment of anxiety and insecurity. To him, love is very different from friendship, which means it’s ten times harder. Despite having hundreds of otome games behind him, Shroud has absolutely no idea how real relationships work. He only picked out the routes he found interesting and hot, and trust me, there wasn’t even a hint of healthy relationships in those. Bro built his entire romantic worldview on the wrong characters.
Jealousy is completely normal for him because of his insecurities. His biggest fear is you leaving him for someone else. It’s already hard enough for him to open up and trust someone, and distance from the person he got so deeply attached to feels like the end of the world to him. He gets jealous constantly, even if you just stole his teammate, but he fully realizes those are the dumbest reasons to feel jealous over. He hates this part of himself and will keep silent about his feelings until the very end. Even at gunpoint he wouldn’t admit it because he doesn’t want to burden you with his problems.
His jealousy shows itself in different ways depending on the situation and how bad it gets. He can quietly endure it all day, then suddenly start casually tormenting you with questions like:
“So, what do you think about that guy?”
“His voice is annoying, don’t you think?”
“Would you still love me if I were a worm?”
And so on.
But he can also get active about it. Idia suddenly becomes really talkative and arrogant, constantly trying to put the other person down though that usually only happens in games. Either way, his clinginess toward you increases dramatically, and the aggression in his gameplay rises too and unfortunately, not always toward the opponents.
In any case, Shroud’s jealousy is visible from space.
Chat I love them. I love Ubers so much so let me throw on you my delulu
Everyday Life in Ubers
Characters included: Shoei Barou/Baro, Shuto Sendou, Marc Snuffy, Jyubei Aryu, Oliver Aiku, Ikki Niko
(no more cuz I'm tired)
A random thoughts about them as a real team
• Everything in Ubers is scheduled literally down to the minute. Even rest time. Especially rest time. Discipline and order, but not to an extreme.
• Snuffy can suddenly start explaining tactics in the middle of lunch using napkins, forks, or literally anything he can get his hands on. In a way, it’s also entertainment for him.
• Baro gets annoyed when someone touches his stuff. Even a glass being moved by accident irritates him. He’s a perfectionist to the core in that regard, so living with his teammates hasn’t been easy for him. At the same time, Baro is one of the cleanest people on the team. When it comes to personal comfort around others, he prefers Niko’s company the most because he’s the least troublesome.
• Aiku is the one who lightens the mood most often with jokes and humor, no matter the situation or who he’s talking to. Humor will save the world.
• Aiku loves throwing his arms over other people’s shoulders even when they clearly don’t want him to. He genuinely cannot live without physical contact and clings to literally everyone without exception, which sometimes gets him smacked for it.
• Aryu spends more time on his hair than some people spend training. Surprisingly though, he’s never late, because being late is not stylish.
• Aryu carries skincare and hair products even to away matches, which constantly leads to ridiculous situations. But that’s not even the worst part… Aryu still doesn’t know his own teammates secretly steal his products.
• Niko is constantly on his phone or analyzing something. He does listen to everything happening around him, but it’s easier for him to exist in the team while pretending to be deeply busy or detached.
• Niko somehow constantly gets dragged into arguments just by walking past. People always use him as a third party and “the rational perspective,” even if he didn’t witness the argument at all. “Niko, tell him!”
• Sendou suggests ordering food more than anyone else. It’s not even that he dislikes the local food, he just likes the whole “come on, let’s order something” vibe.
• Sendou is always trying to drag someone out to hang out after practice. He likes wandering around in groups. (Baro almost always refuses, but sometimes still goes anyway while pretending he was forced.)
• Ubers gets really quiet in the evenings. Everyone’s so exhausted that the only energy left is for scrolling on their phones or sleeping.
• Aiku sometimes blasts music way too loudly and immediately gets annoyed looks from half the team.
• Snuffy genuinely makes sure they eat and sleep properly. (Which is exactly why they sleep like logs, and why Shuto constantly gets yelled at for ordering garbage food.)
• If someone is hiding an injury, Marc notices almost immediately. He knows his players too well and can tell when they’re lying, faking, or pretending.
• The team has this weird habit of gathering in the kitchen late at night before bed, even when nobody is hungry.
• Baro complains about everyone more than anyone else, but if an outsider starts criticizing Ubers, he’s the first one to defend the team. Only he’s allowed to talk badly about those idiots cuz he’s the one playing and suffering with them, not some random guy.
• Niko and Aryu sometimes discuss other people’s weird habits like they’re conducting scientific research. For Niko it’s more like analysis and discussion, while for Aryu it’s intellectual gossip.
• Sendou loves taking candid pictures of the team. He’d never admit it, but those moments are important to him. (Although photographing these guys is a nightmare. Niko avoids cameras like the plague, Aryu constantly jumps into frame but then starts asking “Do I look good?” and begs for retakes, and convincing Baro to take a photo is basically nine circles of rejection.)
• Either way, half of Sendou’s gallery is just blurry pictures of a tired Baro.
• Aiku can fall asleep literally anywhere. He’s not picky at all.
• The scariest thing for the team is Snuffy’s disappointed look.
• Despite all the arguing and clashing personalities, Ubers still feels like a very organized and mature team. Even when they act like idiots.
He’s trying to win you back after cheating on you.
After cheating, Shuto first tries to act like nothing really happened, like everything’s fine, but not because he doesn’t care or because he’s dumb enough not to understand what he did. He just genuinely doesn’t know how to properly admit he’s wrong. For several days he walks around angry and irritated, trains until exhaustion (like it’s some great way to distract himself and burn off energy), and gets pissed that you stopped texting him first (or stopped texting at all, or only reply dryly lol). And then it really hits him.
The moment he realizes you could actually leave him forever and not just “be upset for a while” (“get mad and calm down later” like some like to say, yeah), he starts showing up around you way too often. Random encounters? No. He purposely finds out through mutual friends where you’ll be. He just stands nearby like it’s accidental and waits for at least some kind of reaction to the presence of his “great persona.”
Shuto doesn’t know how to apologize beautifully. There won’t be some long speech about feelings and regret. More like a simple, dry: “I screwed up. I know.”
And that’s it. It’s not even a direct confession that he cheated, just that he “messed up.” But you can hear in his voice how hard it was for him to even say that much.
It irritates him horribly when you start treating him calmly and indifferently. He can handle anger and yelling, that’s one thing, but your indifference genuinely drives him insane and hurts more than anything else.
If he notices someone else starting to flirt with you, his possessiveness switches on instantly like he still has any right to claim you and the worst part is that he knows he doesn’t have the right to be jealous anymore, which only makes him even angrier.
He starts doing things he almost never did before: texting first, asking if you’ve eaten, whether you got home safely, how you’re feeling. Suddenly it matters to him now. It comes off awkward sometimes, occasionally dry, but he keeps doing it consistently.
During practice he becomes more aggressive than usual. Everyone notices Sendou plays like he’s on edge. Because at the same time his head is full of: “I’m an idiot” and “Why can’t you just forgive me and forget all this?”
He absolutely would not be able to handle hearing: “I don’t trust you anymore.”
That would hurt even worse than: “I don’t love you anymore.” (But you’ll say it.)
Shuto tries to prove his love through actions or at least tries to. Because for some reason only now does he start remembering all the little things about you he used to ignore. Only now does he actually start listening to you and only now does he desperately rely on the idea that “actions speak louder than words.”
And they do. They just mostly speak about his desperation.
But the main problem is that he’s terrified that if you two get back together, one day you’ll use his cheating against him during an argument. Because he knows he deserves it and because of that, there’s this constant tension inside him.
If you do give him a second chance (don’t do it), he becomes unexpectedly careful about your boundaries, to the point where it almost hurts. Like he’s constantly checking: “Are you still comfortable with me…?”
And yes, after this Shuto becomes much more jealous. Not in a controlling or restrictive way, but in silent observation. He knows way too well how easy it is to lose someone because of your own stupidity.
Sometimes in the middle of the night, he’ll suddenly pull you closer than usual and quietly mumble into your hair: “I’ll never again…” but he can’t force himself to finish the sentence.
Maybe because he’s lying.
Or maybe because even remembering it still fills him with shame.
Tamsy was beautiful, you knew that from the very first day his lazy gaze slid over you, assessing, analyzing, memorizing. But back then his beauty felt distant, cold, untouchable, like a statue’s. Now it was yours, and sometimes that drove you insane.
He understood perfectly well how much you loved him. That smug cat rarely gave you any reasons to be jealous, he barely noticed anyone else when he was with you. But being the girlfriend of someone that beautiful was a challenge in itself. Because other people noticed. Other people lingered around him, flirted, tried to start conversations, pretended not to see you standing right there beside him.
And sometimes you had to fight for your place under the sun, silently, with gritted teeth, with nothing but your presence and the way you rested your hand on his shoulder, intertwined your fingers with his, looked at your rivals with a stare that clearly said: “Back off. Mine.”
He saw all of it, you knew he did. But he never commented on it, never teased or provoked you. He simply accepted your possessive nature as something natural and, deep down, seemed to enjoy it.
One weekend the two of you decided to go out into the city, not for errands or shopping, just to walk around like ordinary people. To allow yourselves the illusion of a normal life where there were no garbage monsters, patrols, or endless exhaustion. You wore your favorite dress, the one that always made his gaze linger on you a little longer than usual. Tamst dressed up too, wearing a simple but perfectly fitted shirt and dark trousers, his perfectly straight hair spilling over his shoulders in a way that made your stomach flip every time you looked at him.
The evening was warm, almost gentle. You wandered through narrow streets, looked through shop windows, laughed at stupid little things, and for a while you felt genuinely happy. Then he suggested stopping by a café, small, cozy, with live music and the smell of fresh coffee.
You sat in the corner by the window, talking, laughing, drinking some overly sweet lemonade, making plans for tomorrow. Everything was perfect. Almost perfect.
Until you started noticing the looks.
First from the girl at the neighboring table, she stared at Tamsy like he was a dessert she’d ordered but hadn’t been served yet. Then another look, from a waitress who spent far too long wiping the shelf behind him. Then another. And another.
You glanced around the café. There were suspiciously many girls there, single or not, their attention kept drifting toward your boyfriend anyway. Beautiful, calm, mysterious, he attracted attention even when he was simply sitting there drinking water.
And Tamsy, meanwhile, couldn’t have cared less. He either genuinely didn’t notice the stares or just pretended not to. He talked to you, looked at you, smiled only at you. His hands rested relaxed on the table, completely open and unguarded. Tamsy was entirely focused on you, and that should’ve comforted you, but instead it started driving you crazy.
Some overly possessive instinct woke up inside you, whispering: Mine. They’re looking at mine. They shouldn’t look.
You knew it was stupid. You knew he wouldn’t leave you, wouldn’t lose interest, wouldn’t suddenly choose someone else. You knew your jealousy was irrational, but you couldn’t help it.
You smoothly took his hand, intertwining your fingers and feeling the familiar warmth of his palm. He looked at your hand, then at you, mild surprise flickering in his eyes.
— “What’s gotten into you?” he asked quietly.
— “Nothing,” you replied, trying to sound casual.
Five minutes later you leaned over to kiss him, simply because you wanted to. And because the waitress was wiping that same shelf again.
Tamsy kissed you back slowly and softly, his lips lingering against yours a little longer than usual. When you pulled away, he looked at you with the faintest smirk curling at the corners of his lips.
— “You’re affectionate today,” he noted.
You shrugged, trying not to blush even though everything inside you was already boiling.
You did your best not to show that you were jealous. But at the same time you rested your head on his shoulder, stroked his forearm, laughed a little louder than necessary. You acted like a possessive girlfriend marking her territory while pretending it was just spontaneous tenderness.
And of course he understood everything. Tamsy wasn’t stupid, he read your behavior as easily as an open book. Jealousy, possessiveness, slight panic, all of it showed in your gestures, your glances, the way you squeezed his hand whenever another pretty stranger walked by.
He quickly analyzed the situation: nothing dangerous, your relationship wasn’t threatened, you were simply irritated.
And he let himself relax.
More than that, he started enjoying it.
Tamsy liked all of this. He liked watching you get jealous, watching you squeeze his fingers just a little tighter than usual, watching your eyes throw daggers at any woman who looked at him for more than three seconds. He liked how hard you tried to seem sweet and casual while a tiny personal hurricane raged inside you.
He liked that you were jealous. Because it meant he mattered to you. Because it meant you were afraid of losing him. Because it meant you were willing to fight for him, even when there was no one to fight and nothing to fight over.
And he said nothing. Didn’t tease you. Didn’t provoke you. He simply sat there enjoying the evening, the music, the lemonade and the sight of his girlfriend destroying every potential rival with a single glance.
But you couldn’t know what was going through his mind, and that only irritated you more.
By the end of the evening the lemonade was finished, and the waitress had practically scrubbed a hole through that poor shelf. You stood up from the table. Tamsy helped you put on your jacket, an old-fashioned gesture, almost knightly, and one you loved dearly.
You exhaled as the tension slowly began to fade. Soon you’d leave, get into the car, drive home, and there, in your room, you’d have him all to yourself without anyone else watching.
You stepped out of the café. The cool evening air hit your face, washing away the stuffiness and all those lingering stares. You took a deep breath and felt your shoulders relax.
Then he said:
— “You’re jealous.”
It wasn’t a question. His tone was calm, almost lazy, but there was something in it that made you tense all over again.
— “Why would I be?” you replied, trying to keep your voice even.
— “That’s exactly the point,” he said, turning toward you, a barely noticeable smile touching his lips. The same smile that always made you melt.
— “There’s no reason for it. But you are jealous.”
You froze. A fresh wave of frustration rose inside you, because he noticed, because he was right, and because that sly fox had clearly known the entire time. Known, and said nothing. Just watched. Just enjoyed himself.
— “I’m not jealous,” you muttered, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.
He tilted his head, his smile widening as mischief danced in his eyes.
— “Of course not,” he drawled.
— “You just grabbed my hand. Then kissed me. Then kept stroking my shoulder. Then glared at every girl who looked in my direction. That’s just concern?”
— “Tamsy!” you protested, but he was already laughing quietly that rare, low laugh that always destroyed your ability to think properly.
You wanted to say something else, something sharp enough to put him in his place. But he stepped closer first, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you light, almost weightless, yet enough to make every argument disappear from your mind.
— “I like it,” he whispered against your lips.
— “When you get jealous. It means I matter to you.”
— “You already know that,” you mumbled, melting under his closeness.
— “I do,” he nodded, those sparks lighting up in his eyes again.
— “But it’s nice getting confirmation.”
Then he turned and walked toward the car, leaving you standing on the sidewalk with burning cheeks and a violently pounding heart.
— “You’re impossible!” you shouted after him.
He didn’t turn around, but you saw his shoulders shake, he was laughing.
That smug, beautiful, unbearably beloved cat.
The one who knew everything, who enjoyed your jealousy, and who promised you a long, happy life full of little quiet provocations like this.
Japan U-20 National Team (old lineup) [Blue Lock ⚽️]
Cover credit: @velting
So, I said I'm going continue? I did. Today, while drawing Haru fanart, some thoughts came to my mind, and I'd like to share them with you. Not much this time, but still.
Part 2
Also take a look at Part 1
• Wakatsuki regularly falls asleep somewhere during breaks. Literally. After training, when everyone goes on break, Itsuki separates from the group to find any quiet, secluded spot and just passes out there. He sleeps like a log even in the most uncomfortable positions because he has achieved sleep zen. Because of this, he constantly sleeps through the end of breaks and doesn’t show up, so the whole team ends up searching the entire building for him.
(Later, he’ll be forbidden from going anywhere alone. Itsuki must always have someone accompanying him. Most often, it’s Neru.)
• Teru and Kento often hang out together. Despite their different personalities, they get along really well. Teru often tries to persuade Chou to go with him to his hometown just to hang out.
• Teru likes traveling by train.
• Chou has a strange attraction to boats. He really likes canoes, and the idea of moving across water on a raft is very odd but intrigues him.
(Because of this, he’s thinking about going to Venice at least once in his life.)
• Haru often hits his head on doorframes and generally bumps into things a lot. For example, stubbing his little toe on something.
• Neru loves aquariums, dolphinariums, and circuses. This kind of entertainment reminds him of his childhood, but he still visits these places with excitement.
• Darai is a comfort figure for many on the team. Many find him a bit eccentric, but they respect him, his path, and his beliefs. Despite his mental differences from others, he is still a reliable person for many.
• When Aiku first joined the team, everyone treated him with a bit of skepticism and caution, but also with interest. Aiku integrated into the group pretty quickly thanks to his natural qualities.
• Fukaku can communicate in sign language. It’s easier for him than verbal conversations.
• Teru is currently in the process of figuring out his orientation.
• Sendou has a second account that he presents as his own die-hard fan. When he wants to argue with haters but doesn’t want to look pathetic or damage his reputation, he switches to his second account, where he feels free and can argue as harshly as he wants.
(He’s also his own fastest, most passionate, and most active fan. Whenever he posts something, he immediately switches to his second account to comment, like, etc., first.)
• Niou is one of the most loyal guys on the entire Japan U-20 roster.
• Neru likes simple and cute sandbox type or life simulation games. For example: Stardew Valley, Tomodachi Life, The Sims, Roblox, and so on.
• On “lazy weekends,” Aiku and Sendou play Brookhaven, but then Sendou drags Aiku into Dress to Impress.
• Niou wears wolf-themed boxers.
• Chou still prefers using a flip phone. It’s more convenient for him. He’s a bit old-fashioned when it comes to technology, whereas Neru is the most tech-savvy in the team.
• Itsuki’s unattainable dream is to try being a bear and fall asleep in a den.
Again, little clue for you, guys. If you forgot who is who.
