i write x readers for fun and to practice my writing. My only rules are: 1. No NSFW and 2. Be respectful and patient!
I'll gradually start writing for more and more fandoms, and when that time comes, I'll update this post :) here are the fandoms/characters I write for so far:
- eddsworld | joker/akiren (persona 5) | rottmnt | wally west (dc [YJ or JL(U), to be specific] | andrew neiman (whiplash) | newsies (broadway)
Thanks for checking out my blog. You can find me on ao3 as well under the handle 'sum4iruu'. I hope you all enjoy my work, happy reading! :)
HI! OKAY so I saw the thing you wrote about Billy and I started squealing and giggling and kicking my feet. LOVE your writing. If you don’t miiind…could I request a Billy x reader where reader kinda doesn’t care for themself. Like- not on purpose, they just get so distracted with caring for others and working. Like they forget to eat meals and most of the time only eats crackers for a whole day, or forgets to drink water, or to shower and brush teeth or to actually get a decent amount of sleep. I just thought it would be interesting with Billy considering I’m guessing he doesn’t need to do this stuff himself.
self care matters, billy!
note: oh BOY we are going to pretend like i wrote this in a timely manner and NOT six months late.
TYSM!! i’m sure you’ve forgotten about this request by this time but i hope it was worth the wait!
billy kid x reader
a couple of days had gone by, and billy had noticed there something was strange about you.
but, you were doing everything as usual, weren’t you?
in the morning you’d do some work for phaethon- finishing up some commissions or managing the store. after that you’d run some errands for the people of sixth street, mostly deliveries for general chop or cleaning for the tinmaster.
sometimes nicole would give you a call and ask for a favour, and then you’d go and do that. (billy liked these chores best, because it gave him an excuse to tag along with you.)
on top of that, you had some hobbies you liked to work on personally- like that book you wanted to read, and that painting you were struggling with.
your day had always comprised of these things, and you were still doing those same things, so why was it for the last few days you seemed so… off?
absolutely hasn’t the inkling of a clue at all- billy didn’t need food or sleep or showers, and he did know they were important because of anby and nicole, but he didn’t know how important.
i think, since he’s never experienced the need for any of those things, even though he theoretically knew of their necessity, it would be hard for him to empathise.
so, while any human being would be able to associate and overworked person with a nap and a snack, it wouldn’t be his first thought. i think he’d at first think you were sick.
“..hey! [name]! over here!”
it took you a couple of seconds to process. there was a fog in your head, and you only really heard him a couple of seconds after his shout. you slowly blinked in his direction, and then wobbled over.
“yes, billy?”
he put a finger to your forehead, frowning. “yeah, nope, your temperature’s normal. it’s not that cold nicole had last week.”
“…i’m sorry, billy, what?”
he didn’t seem to hear you. “but then… what else could it be?”
a puzzled expression took his face, like he was scanning through all the possibilities of sickness that didn’t involve fevers. then his eyes widened. “no.. [name], ARE YOU DYING?!”
at first it was shock, but then you started to laugh. “billy, why do you think i’m sick?”
at that point you brushed it off as a light headache, but he wasn’t satisfied with that at all. for a while, he would truly believe you had some life-threatening illness you refused to tell him about.
oh, gods forbid he read some fanfic over anby’s shoulder about hanahaki disease- then he’ll think you had that!
but, since he so wholeheartedly believed you were unwell, he treated you as such as well.
this was something he did have experience in, because when flu season came around and he was the only cunning hare unaffected, he’d run around taking care of them
if normal nicole was demanding, sick nicole was on another level
so he knew exactly what to do!
got you lots of hot soup from waterfall soup. buy you some flowers for moral support. offer a head massage for the headache. sprinkle some lavender oil on your pillow for better sleep.
all of these things unintentionally did make you feel better- the soup forced you to take a meal, the flowers somehow motivated you to shower. however, it was the lavender oil that gave your overworking tendencies away.
“[name], did you like the smell of that oil, or was it too strong? it’s the one nicole likes, but anby’s favourite is much softer. i can try that next if you’d like.”
“…what oil, billy?”
now wait. hold up. he definitely sprinkled it on your pillow
he didn’t tell you because it was supposed to be a surprise!! but if you fell asleep on that pillow, you definitely would’ve noticed!
did you… not go to bed at all?
“mmm, [name]’s room smells like lavender! what did you do to it?” that was belle, who had just come downstairs.
“what? really? but i didn’t even go into my room last night,”
you didn’t go into your room last night?! billy’s been sprinkling it with lavender oil for a week! he thought you’d bring it up, but you didn’t, so that’s why he’d asked- but if you didn’t, then you hadn’t been to your room all week?!
this absolute sweetheart. was probably waiting so hard to see if you’d notice but you didn’t. 😭
but that brings the question, if you weren’t in your room, where had you been sleeping?
“sleeping? ha! it’s been a while since i saw [name] do that.” belle sounded very sarcastic.
“but belle, there’s so much stuff to do! and not enough time! i’m sure fairy didn’t mind me crashing with her and the hdd this week.”
an automated voice could be heard from inside the office. “while i do enjoy our time together, my extensive data tells me that you, unlike me, need sufficient rest.”
belle sighed. “billy, i’ve tried everything. please get [name] to take care of themselves.”
so the deathly sickness was… exhaustion? the dark circles around your eyes were from insomnia, not a virus?
that made things easier! oh, it was on.
now that he knew where to properly place his concerns, there was no escaping him- and billy in care mode was very strict.
he called you every few hours to remind you to drink water! sometimes he’d be in the middle of a mission-
“[name]- *bang bang bang* - drink your water- bang bang*- now!”
“BILLY ARE THOSE GUNSHOTS?”
“okay bye!”
took you on lunch dates. emphasis on lunch- whatever plans you had always involved food somehow.
nicole told him, “maybe make them a meal! they can’t say no to that~” but that ended with a kitchen getting burnt so. lunch dates it was
properly informed you of the lavender oil on your pillow. it was such a sweet thing to do, maybe a small nap on your bed didn’t sound so bad after all.
“look, [name], there’s only so much i can do- so i sure as hell am gonna do it! i can’t have you looking like a zombie all the time, so get on with it and take care of yourself, silly!”
☆ STARLIGHT KNIGHT ☆ a crack imagine that i thought of as Im actually playing the game even though i preregistered and never actually properly played.
“Wise, I’m going to give you two seconds before castrating you.” Unfortunately for you, your very good friend and fellow proxy has decided he wanted a death sentence, it's truly a shame that he was choosing to be not alive in these times.
Wise had leaned over against the back of the couch, one hand gripping the edge while the other covered his mouth in a failed attempt to stop laughing. Every few seconds another wheeze escaped him, shoulders shaking harder than before. “Are you going to save me?” he gasped, pointing at you before another laugh interrupted him. “This is the best thing ever”
“Please stop laughing, this is really embarrassing.” The words came out far more strained than intended as you tugged uselessly at the short cape attached to the back of the costume. The synthetic material squeaked under your gloves. You were whining too much for someone who put themselves into it. Honestly, this entire situation was a disaster. A few nights before you were sleeping over with Belle. Within that night you both might have over indulged and got a little wasted and perhaps found yourself making very certain ideas.
Now here you were standing in the middle of Random Play dressed as one of the Starlight Knights from those serialized shows Billy adored so much. Specifically, a pink one because apparently your intoxicated self had decided the color suited you best.
“At times like these,” Wise said as he finally straightened himself up, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, “it makes me proud to be Belle’s brother.”
You glared at him from beneath the ridiculous little visor attached to the headpiece.
“You are the least supportive person I know.”
“Oh, no, I’m being supportive,” he replied immediately. “I’m supporting Billy’s future happiness.”
A groan escaped you as you dropped the helmet onto the couch cushions. The armor pieces clacked awkwardly together while the utility belt dug into your side. It was funny the situation you put yourself in and fortunately enough the only consequence is having Wise be a bully for a few minutes.
You hadn’t even seen the Cunning Hares in over a week thanks to commissions piling up, so maybe you lucked out for this day. They didn't really come around, always looking to be back at work.
His gaze swept over the costume again. The costume might not have been for him but he would be a liar of a man to say that it wasn't really attractive of you to be seeing everything fit so perfectly. “All things considered,” he admitted, “it’s honestly not as bad as you think.”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.
“I’m serious.” He shrugged. “The color works. Surprisingly well, actually.”
Unfortunately, that only made your embarrassment worse. The fitted body suit hugged closer than expected, the black and pink material accentuating every movement whenever you shifted. The boots added extra height while the gloves and accessories made the whole thing look authentic instead of a halloween costume.
Belle had gone all in when ordering it. Of course she did. Wise tilted his head. “I mean, if Billy sees this, I'm sure he would propose on the spot.”
“WISE.”
“What? I’m just being realistic.”
You grabbed one of the couch pillows and launched it at his head. He caught it easily.
Billy Kid of the cunning hares was something of a fanboy, that much was obvious to anyone who goes near him. There isn't a piece of lore of that show that Billy didn't know of that show. Which was exactly why drunk you had thought this would somehow be “cute.”
Sober you wanted to crawl into a Hollow and disappear forever. Before you could continue regretting every life choice leading to this moment, the electronic bell above the shop door chimed from the front room. Both you and Wise stilled while looking towards the door.
Then came Belle’s voice from outside. “Ohhhh, she’s still wearing it? Perfect.”
Your soul actually left your body. Anything after this is a corpse being animated.
“No,” you warned, standing straight abruptly. “Wise hide me right now.”
“Manager! We brought snacks ” In Billy's mind it was something akin to an 80s love ballad that started to play. A gust of air swept through the shop as the front door slid fully open, sending loose receipts fluttering across the floor. flower petals where the hell had those even come from? drifted through the air around you.
Billy stood in the entrance of Random Play, “…Starlight Knight Astra Prime Pink Edition?”
You closed your eyes. Maybe if you didn’t look at this situation, it wouldn’t be real. Then came the sound of a loud thump and other things falling. You cracked one eye open just in time to witness Billy had dropped himself onto his knees.
“…No?,” you whispered in horror.
The cyborg ignored you completely. Billy began inching toward you across the floor one slow movement at a time. While hearts bounced across his screen so rapidly they nearly lagged his expression software. Belle, meanwhile, had already pulled out her phone. Billy finally reached you, wrapping both arms around your waist with shocking speed before pressing the front of his screen against your stomach.
“Manager,” he said reverently, voice practically vibrating with emotion, “I didn’t think you would be into the Starlight Knights. This is amazing.”
Your entire body went rigid. From above, Billy looked genuinely overwhelmed. Hearts, sparkles, and little animated stars flashed across his face while his optics glowed.
You awkwardly pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. “Oh, um… I’m not really”
“Could we take some photos?” Billy interrupted, practically whining now as he looked up at you. “Please? You look so good!”
“Billy, I seriously can’t. Belle got this as a joke, um…” Just your luck he let out a whine while moving his head lower down your stomach. Now the entire screen of his face was pressed directly against your stomach while he held onto you like you were about to disappear.
The costume suddenly felt about ten degrees warmer. Billy made another soft whine, hearts floating across his screen in endless loops while his voice dropped.
“You even customized the pink accents…” he says while grazing his fingers on the details.
Holy fuck did your face feel warm. “Let me get the helmet.”
Billy’s entire body jolted. You had to push his head away from your stomach so you could move, and even then he looked seconds from combusting from happiness.
“THE HELMET TOO?!” he shouted.
For a brief moment the cyborg literally left the ground, hovering airborne in pure excitement before landing back down with enough force to rattle the coffee table. You slid the helmet on.
“…Manager.”
“Well,” he declared, suddenly standing at full height, “your lead Starlight Knight is going to steal you away for the night. Goodbye, people!”
“What?”
Before you could react, Billy swept forward, hooked an arm under your knees, and picked you up effortlessly. You yelped loudly as the room tilted.
“Billy!”
BILLY: sorry for being insane, do you think I'm male wife or whatever
OMG SAME ANON SORRY I DIDNT NOTICE YOUR REQUESTS WERE CLOSED AHHHHH AHHHHGG AHHHHHHHHHHH
its okay no worries anon!! I'll still keep the request in for the future, but it'll deffo take me a while to get to it as i clear out my remaining request, hope thats ok :) ❤️
holy cow i just found out i didnt allow anon asks what the heck 😭😭 i swear i had that on before. anyways its on now, feel free to ask me stuff on anon now
guys im sorry all the edd parts of hcs/fics always end up being a little longer he is just my fav unfortunately
on that note i am having a bit of difficulty getting back on my writing mindset, it has genuinely been a while since I even wrote for fanfiction purposes (curse you, research paper) so i will be slightly rusty as i return to my #prime but i swear to solemnly lock in for any upcoming requests, hcs, and fics
speaking of. i am trying to get into ninjago because i love kai but the amount of seasons and episodes are intimidating me 💔 I hope to write about it soon, though :)
Omg hi i saw ur last repost (the one who's prompt was like how would each of the guys would react to you saying "hey, can you hold this for me for a minute?" and then just putting your hand in theirs) can you do that for edd, tom, Matt n tord plsplspls🙏🙏🙏 ty!!
Hey, so sorry it took me a while to get to this, but I hope you enjoy it! :,) no tord cuz im going to save him for a longer fic (with this same prompt), as someone also requested one with him and I decided I’d put the two requests together! Hope that’s ok :)
On that note: This is around 1,8k words combined/overall total! Averaging 500 or so words for each one? Hopefully that's enough :)
HOLD MY HAND! With Edd, Matt, and Tom
------------------------------------
EDD
“How big is your attic…?”
“Uh, normal-sized? Why?”
It was not, in fact, normal.
Edd sought you out one fine and sunny morning to help him tidy up the attic, considering that everyone else is out or busy. You’ve liked him for quite a while now, so how could you say no to such an opportune moment? What you didn’t expect was the unconventional contents you’d find in the mess and the sheer mass of them.
You watch as Edd rummages through the piles, seemingly looking for something. He throws items behind him. A few of them being a literal skull, a hamburger, and one of the many photoframes of Matt in a certain angle.
“What are we looking for exactly?”
“I had an old sketchbook I never used. I hid it in the attic for the one day I might use it but then Eduardo and I got powers, we fought, and amidst it all, messed up the attic.”
“What?” You pause. Surely, this must be one elaborate joke he’s setting up. You look up at him to make sure. He looks sincere but ultimately so casual about it like said shenanigans are the norm in their household.
“I know. It’s crazy, right? I mean, why would he drag the attic into it?” Oh, he’s dead serious. You opted to not comment nor reply and instead, simply continued to scavenge alongside him.
An hour has possibly passed and you both have only cleared out one section of the room, yet there’s still no sight of the aforementioned sketchbook. You’re both huddled in the corner, sitting amongst the piles of trinkets and memorabilia in a shared fatigue.
“Wow. We're never finding it.” Edd chokes out a sheepish laugh, slumping. “Sorry for dragging you into this. Seems like I wasted an hour or something in your life.”
Now, this isn't exactly the most appropriate time to be thinking about it, but the sun has descended at a very specific angle that basks him in a warm hue. His cheeks are flushed slightly red and he's got the cutest grin plastered on him right now. It would be criminal if you didn't at least try to cheer him up right now.
“No, definitely not. In fact…” You paw at a random space in piles, pretending to look through them. Edd seems to shuffle closer, hovering and trying to figure out what you're trying to do exactly.
You turn around to face him, holding your empty hand out. “Here, can you hold this?”
He blinks. “There's nothing there.”
“Exactly. I'm offering you a helping hand.”
It's pure silence, before his face twists into genuine amusement. “Pfft.”
“What? No loud ‘Hahaha'? No standing ovation?”
“It was pretty terrible.”
You scoff, feigning offence. “That's a lot coming from you!”
You're about to pull your hand away, but Edd intertwines it with his just in time. You look up immediately with wide eyes as Edd stares back with a soft smile and knowing eyes.
“Don't worry, in jokes, terrible is basically equivalent to perfect. You really know the way into my heart.” Edd snickers, as if that sentence alone didn't make your heart skip beat in milliseconds.
You don't notice how the door to the attic was left slightly ajar, letting the rest of the boys catch a peek of your shared moment before they sneak away.
“Why didn't he ask us for help? We were just out getting gas–” Matt whispers when they're out of earshot.
“Please, he probably wasn't even looking for actual help in the first place.” Tord snorts.
Whether it was luck or suave, strategic planning on Edd's end, the boys couldn't tell, but what they do know is that the sketchbook ‘of utmost importance’ had been long forgotten afterwards, replaced with the comforts of Edd and his presence like it was meant to be.
------------------------------------
TOM (Established relationship)
“Jeez, it’s freezing.” Tom grumbles through gritted teeth, rubbing his hands together like a simple housefly.
It was the first week of December. By cruel coincidence, according to their ‘chore’ rotation at the house, It was Tom’s turn to head out and buy groceries for the entire gang. Tom took the liberty to take his partner with him.
“It’s so you can suffer with me.” He said, dragging you out and towards the nearest grocery market. ‘Nearest’ being at least 30 minutes away by foot due to the fact that the car they share as a group is in repairs. Well, that wouldn’t have been the case if Edd knew how to parallel park.
Tom loathed December, not only for Christmas, but for how inconvenient the weather is. Not even his usual blue hoodie could fight against the raging power of zero-degree weather.
“We could buy you some gloves.” You nodded towards one of the aisles as you both entered the grocery. Tom continues to shove his hands into his pockets, shivering slightly as the cool, air-condition breeze greeted him.
“I had gloves, but Tord hid them.”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“Who else would love to make my life unbearable?” It was a common habit for Tom to blame Tord for any inconvenience in his life– Partly in jest, and other times, in total seriousness– but, truthfully, Tom couldn’t care about who or what has responsibility over his misery right now.
“Well, can you hold this for me? Just for a minute.” You instead asked as you picked out some cans from the shelves while Tom held a basket in his other hand.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
It was warm. Familiar– Like how it would feel to loiter on his bed, wrapping a blanket over his shivering body and relishing in the smell of its cotton. It’s like all sense of crisp chill in his body left the moment he grasped whatever it was he’s holding.
Tom began to furrow his eyebrows together as they circled different aisles. ‘I still need a carton of milk, some bacon but not the brand with the green text–’
You stared at him as he’s deep in his contemplation. It’s been 10 or 15 minutes since you’ve slipped your hand in his. Tom doesn’t even notice how he squeezes it from time to time like a stress ball when he’s trying to recall which specific facial cream Matt asked him to buy at Aisle 7.
This continues even when you’re past the cashier. By the time you’ve reached the doors of the mart, you think Tom still hasn’t noticed until he looks down. Others may mistake that flat, assessing look for indifference or boredom, but you see how the tip of his ears and nose go red, and it’s certainly not from the cold.
“Real smooth of you.” He murmurs.
“I figured it would warm you up.”
You don’t miss how the sides of his lips quirk up, ever so slightly. Then, he gives your hand three squeezes, like a finality that ends the trip on a good note. Even on the walk home, he doesn't let go, and suddenly, the Winter season doesn’t seem so bleak anymore.
------------------------------------
MATT (Established relationship)
“I’m telling you, it has to be that man in a yellow hat! He’s the killer!”
“No way. He was in the kitchen, he has an alibi! It’s gotta be the purple guy.”
Movie nights with Matt were fun, especially if it came with a little bet. Thursday nights are often reserved for Mysteries and Thrillers where the both of you were snuggled, sides pressed together on the couch with the typical bowl of popcorn in one hand and some drinks on the other.
“--Oh! Okay, if I’m right, you have to hold my hand!”
“Well, I propose… that–” Matt says slowly, looking around the room as if scouting for some kind of leverage to use on you. You can see the exact moment the invisible light-bulb above his head lights up.
“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” You snort.
“It’s supposed to be a consequence. If you win, then.. Well, I’m at your mercy!”
Matt glances at the bottom right, eyeing the remaining time left for the movie. They were already 30 minutes in and every second felt excruciatingly painful on his end. At some point, Matt simply stopped paying attention for good, opting to daydream about how good it would feel once he gets to clasp his hands onto your own.
“Come on, Matt. You lost.” You say, shifting around to face him.
The movie was decent, mayhaps, a little predictable on your end as the Purple guy ended up being the culprit. Matt spent at least a good 5 minutes gawking at the credits before waving his arms around, trying to come up with some flimsy arguments as to why the movie was wrong and that he totally won–
“Nonsense. Honestly, I think I was a little misguided that’s all, and besides, I had pretty good suspicions and intuition, it just so happen to be slightly misplaced–”
“Hey, can you hold this for me?”
You let him continue his tangent– After all, he has a fairly lovely voice– but primarily do so to catch him by surprise. It was the one thing everyone in the group knew about Matt: When he’s focused and totally zoned in, he lacks awareness for anything else, as if tunnel visioning with fervent passion.
“Yes, of course–” He holds his hand out, “Anyway, back to what I was saying…”
“I was hoping you’d do that!” He laughs, running his thumb over your knuckles. “I knew it. You would never have passed on an opportunity to hold my hand.”
You put your hand on his, giving it a slight squeeze and it’s as if you’ve snapped him out of a trance. Matt blinks once, then twice, before his expression breaks into one equivalent of pure glee. His grin stretches wide, as he tugs you closer.
Matt moves your arm closer before pressing a firm peck on the back of your hand, all while staring into your eyes with an easy confidence screaming that he knows you don’t mean it. He may not be a super sleuth of some kind, but he certainly knows how to navigate the mysteries of your own heart like breathing.
“Don’t let it get to your head. I could revoke your hand-holding rights in this instance.”
wow i am a big fat liar. for good reasons!-- guess who graduated! 🎓
ill be working on the remaining requests later. I've been working on HCs for my own personal favourite characters, so I'll be posting that very soon as well!
HELLO PI!!!! I don't know if you're a Lady, a Sir or a Liege, so I won't be addressing you formally for now
So... Ummmmm...
May I request Yandere Joker/Akiren headcanons? :D
Thanks!!!
— Best Regards, ღ玲💎~♡
Hello Rei! Surprise, surprise, I am a Lady! But you can call me anything :) Thank you for requesting and I am so so sorry for answering this extremely late! I hope you like it!
On a side note, this is actually my first time writing yanderes so it might be a little rusty… feel free to give me feedback on that if you wish!
YANDERE JOKER/AKIREN
🎭 Yandere Joker would be interesting– His yandere persona (pun intended) would quite literally be the equivalent of his ‘villain’ self, if he ever chose that path. If the Joker we’ve come to know is driven by his need to help people, then his yandere self would be driven by a need for validation from others. Quite literally, an evil self.
🐈 He’ll start small. If you ever drop or leave something behind, he’ll go out of his way to find you and return it– Usually, wordless, leaving it where he knows you’ll see it. The difference, this time, is that he makes sure you know it was him. He’s patient, so he’ll wait to turn a corner, at least when he knows you’ll see his figure.
He acts passively at first, not wanting to be hasty. Primarily, this is to test out the waters and see if you’re someone he can “commit” (nicer alternative to: obsess) to. Catching Akiren’s interest means that you have had to show some interest in the phantom thieves, blatant disgust with Kamoshida, and something similar. Basically, being ‘different’ from the crowd will mean that he has his eye on you.
🎭 Joker makes you think that everything in your dynamic was by your choice, when really he had been manipulating the circumstances from the start. With all the help you’ve been getting from that last bullet point, you might feel compelled to actually start talking with him, thank him– Maybe, you initially expect to have some small talk and dip.
He won’t leave it at that. In fact, you’ll be surprised to find that he’s actually quite conversational– and a bit of a charmer. With his easy-going nature, he’d convince you to help him with maybe, an assignment or some random thing or two later on. You wouldn’t even be able to fully comprehend that you said ‘yes’ until after.
Bonus points! He’ll definitely ask you to help or try to talk with you in places where he knows other students can see you. When they see that you’ve become associated with him, you become part of the gossip, and a step closer to being completely tied to him.
And, of course, what kind of hero would he be if he didn’t uncharacteristically speak up against them? He’ll make you feel special, as if you’ve become one of his friends– but really, it’s just a convoluted way to make you feel indebted to him.
🐈 When Akiren begins integrating you within the friend group, he would quite literally use his stained name as an advantage. He will play into that part as a meek, awkward unfairly treated person, to not just you, but everyone who observes him.
If you ever become closer friends with any of the Phantom thieves, all they would do is sing him praises. You’ll hear a few labels being passed around–a true gentleman, sweet, kind, considerate– and with so many people vouching for him, you would find it hard to believe that he is anything but so.
Then, he’ll open up– He’ll tell you his story before Shujin, before the false accusations, and everything. He’ll also really emphasize how he has opened up to nobody else but you. He basically starts drawing the idea that you are now partly responsible for his person because you are so special to him.
🎭 He’s not one for killing– He’s more of the type to isolate, to put things in place, and watch them play out because it somewhat absolves all responsibility that could be attributed to him. How would he have known that spending so much time with him would outcast you from the rest of Shujin society? That’s been his normal for who knows how long…
Funnily enough, Akechi would be the one to see through it all– almost. Joker’s at least thankful that the little problem that he could’ve posed was… resolved.
🐈 And jealousy is a pretty ugly thing. Joker has made it crystal clear, even to his fellow Phantom Thieves, that you’re taken. Not that you know that– He was never the type to explain all of his plans anyways.
Friendly hugs, linked arms, and whatnot– Joker can tolerate for on his good days. On the bad ones, however, you've overhead Ryuji swear that all the hair on his skin stood up from Joker’s cold stare alone. You’ve noticed the feeling of everyone walking on eggshells sometimes– but you just can’t seem to pinpoint why… neither can they.
🎭 You’re basically locked in when you don’t treat him as a monster… but also when you don’t treat him like a saviour. He always feels like someone who is always being depended on, but he rarely– almost never– feels like he could depend on someone else (and he doesn’t like to admit this part, but it’s also because depending on someone means admitting the truth of his nature).
Ironically, in turn, he would begin treating you like his saviour, someone special for seeing what others couldn’t.
🐈 It would be a matter of time until you’ve figured it out for yourself, but by that point it would be too late.If he was less cunning, you would’ve seen right through it, but he was assured that his plans would work out from the beginning. Joker is quite honestly a confident man.
hi again!! could i request some hcs for matt w/ a motorcyclist reader? :3 /nf
hey! thanks for requesting again and sorry for answering it so late! :,) hopefully you like it!! It was super fun to write about this one
MATT & A MOTORCYCLIST READER
🪞Long story short, he would love it. Matt is the kind of guy with a duality– He could totally be into stuff like Fall Out Boy, The Strokes, My Chemical Romance even but he is also a big fan of chick flicks like Mean Girls, Clueless, or the Princess Diaries. He’s a big sucker for romcoms and being with a motorcyclist somewhat fulfills those fantasies!
Selfies and pics (together or just him alone) with your bike would also be mandatory.
🎡In a way, he kinda embodies the essence of a stereotypical teenage girl. A dreamy look would be cast upon your way whenever you arrive. The bike parked, helmet in arm, bonus points if you’ve got a leather jacket too. It would have him giggling and kicking his feet.
“It’s just like Grease!” He would say to any of the boys.
On that note, he would totally be asking you to dress like Sandy and Danny from said movie. Yes, he already has the outfits ready in his closet-- Yes, he's fine with being Sandy or Danny, whichever you'd prefer. All you would have to do is say the word!
🪞Matt really does live in his movie-fueled world, begging you to pick him up or take him out for late-night drives. Matt does not account for a lot of things.
Firstly, the helmet– He did not exactly consider how cramped and warm it could get under it, and to his horror, one unfortunate drive left his scalp all oily and his hair droopy.
“My hair was perfect– It was breaking the laws of physics! I did not need that helmet to break the laws of me breaking the laws of physics!” Matt whines, desperately trying to puff up his hair in front of a mirror.
“Haha, bet you didn’t expect it to get so greasy in there, didn’t you?” Edd snickered.
The following day, Edd came out of the bathroom in a panic, not as his brunette self no longer, but hair colored mustard yellow. Your eyes instantly lock with Matt, who simply gives you a wink and an innocent smile that is anything but!
Matt is fine with smelling like leather sometimes, maybe even engine oil, but…
Some people see maybe a couple specifically standing near a conveniently placed puddle. Some people think it would be peak comedy to surpass the speed limit and drive through said puddle. Some people do exactly that.
You’ve never seen Matt so furious before– Not since when Tom tried hiding his rare novelty toys, claiming it was thrown away as a ‘joke’. Expect Matt to embrace full road rage, egging you on to follow that devious jerk while he scrambles to the fridge until he returns with a carton of eggs, insistent that you both get revenge!
🎡 In seriousness, Matt does love to cling on you from behind, driving to anywhere or nowhere at all. Rides with him aren’t a monthly, yearly type of thing, but rather, almost daily. He’s fine with taking it everywhere– to a fancy restaurant, the grocery, the park, the beach– Matt is more in it for the journey (which is you) than the destination, so he’s a very happy man, regardless.
Also, back to the teenage girl point, you can totally pretend that there’s something on the road that’ll make your bike wobble and shake for a bit while driving. Matt is fairly observant, so he’ll know it’s pretend, but he’ll eat it up like it’s his last meal and cling onto you even harder from the back– A little thanks for indulging him in his silly romcom fantasies.
He also has tried to put his hands up in the air, and may have also tried to stand up in the backseat while you guys were moving on a highway. Safe to say, Tord got a real kick out of it when you guys came back with a huge bump on Matt’s forehead.
🪞Personally, I have this inkling that Tom himself has tried to dabble in the art of motorcycling– It did not work out and he had to say goodbye to Susan's lovely distant cousin. But, while he had one, Matt asked him if they could go out on a ride or two. Tom also has a few cases of DUI, so it explains why Matt wasn’t as scared as you thought he’d be during your first ride together…
🎡You’ll joke sometimes that he loves your bike more than you– He even asks if he can wash it for you– but all he’ll do is laugh and say: “Oh, I love your bike. Well, not as much as I love my face. But, my love for your bike and my love for my face combined is not as much as my love for you. Don’t ask me to elaborate, that’s just how the maths– or, the matt works!”
hello everyone! I'm sorry for my inactivity-- Will be graduating very soon, and I will have much more free time to indulge here-- but, I have some potentially, pretty swell news...
It has been a long-time dream of mine to create an interactive fan-game for any of my favourite fandoms, specifically one where you, the reader (yes, you!), can have a bit more liberty with your choices compared to a typical x reader... I have dabbled in a bit of coding before, but I just never had the time.
I have no idea if it'll be a visual novel or CYOA (Choose-your-own-adventure) kind of thing, but what I do know is that Eddsworld has been one of my top contenders for this, and I've had a bunch of planned plots and whatnots in my drafts for how many years now! I hope to put it into action and commit to it very very soon!
As for some better news, I'll be working on requests right now :)! Anywho, that's all for my rambling, just wanted to share in case anyone would be interested! Feel free to drop by my inbox if you wanna talk about it '>'
Hello Pie!
I saw your post about writing newsies fic’s and was wondering if you could write on for Spot or Elmer??
If not that’s perfectly fine <3
happy winter holidays
Hey! so sorry for answering this ask so late... Academics was hell :/. I'm not currently in the headspace to write a full blown fic (yet) but here are some headcanons with Elmer! I'll most definitely do this with Spot after I've cleared my inbox :)
Note: the newsie lingo and speech style is probs not very accurate :( i will do my best to practice for when I ever do make a proper fic! Thank you for requesting!
Courting? Pining? Whatever it is, it’s love! with Elmer
🗞️ Oh, I think he’d be the sweetest. If you catch Elmer’s eye, you better bet that he’s swept off his feet and falling hard. Every newsie in the vicinity will hear about you– actually, anyone near him will.
* One time while he was out selling papers, he passed by the local church and had a brief conversation with one of the nuns:
“You seem to be in good spirits today, Elmer.”
“Believe me, sister, ya would be too if you've met 'em."
"And that is who?"
"The love of my life. I think."
"You think!?"
📐 He's the type to be... casual, somewhat. Not too obvious, but it's not like he's hiding it either. Elmer tries to stay in the middle of it, not wanting to push the wrong buttons or cross any boundaries-- He, of course, always wants to help you though!
* Elmer's got a good head on his shoulders when it comes to numbers. Feel free to have him tag along on any errands to the shops and markets, he'll calculate it in a swift jiffy!
* Oh, and don't even worry about the bags-- He'll carry it for you! and maybe your hand, while you're at it...
🗞 Elmer's Polish, so he'll struggle a bit with articulating his thoughts-- He's got the message, and in his mother tongue, he's got the words, but he knows most in New York won't understand it the way he does. He'd deeply appreciate it if you were to be patient when it came to that and if you'd entertain any questions he has-- even the "stupid" ones. Listening and understanding pierces his heart faster and stronger than any other thing in the world!
📐 On that same note, To be loved by Elmer is to be loved LOUD. Your achievements and your best traits will be known to all-- Elmer will not speak of you like you're some higher being or that you solved world hunger. Instead, Elmer talks about you like he's certain he'll be with you for infinity.
* Race rests his chin on his hand, his tired look may seem indifferent but he's certainly all ears for Elmer's unstoppable rambling about his beloved. The day was rough (as usual) but Elmer's energy can be infectious-- Love, inherently, is. Race smiles.
* Race knows he's smitten. It's when Elmer's telling him a story he's already heard two days ago-- When even the littlest thing about his person of interest has him grinning widely, leaving him with a skip on his step the entire day.
🗞 Elmer fell first. He definitely also fell harder. If seeing you around was jaw-dropping, getting to know and be part of your life is like reaching heaven. Elmer cares about you, even the things you don't like or don't bother with.
* This is not to say that he wants to be two same peas in one pod-- Elmer values his individuality. But, Elmer definitely loves having someone that is almost soulmate-like. He wants to understand you in a way that no one else can-- Your love together is strictly yours forever, for better or worse.
📐 When Elmer is finally set on courting you officially-- It'll be a secret. He'll save up for good gifts-- Art supplies, books, accessories, or even a trip to a good restaurant-- and you will never know. Not until he's at your doorstep.
* "I've called on your parents." He'll explain first-- You don't know when or how, he's surprisingly very sneaky when he wants to be-- and he'll hold out a flower. Maybe it's your favourite or one he personally believes to represent you the best.
* "I don't really know how it works." He shrugs, before grinning sheepishly. "Well, maybe I don't really know anything? But, I asked for their blessing, so I can takes you out to dinner."
* He'll smile at you, and in that moment it's like he was dipped in sunshine-- all bright, full of love. "It was a yes from them, but they're not you... So...?"
🗞 What other answer could it be? At your approval, he'll kiss your cheek-- Or, If not that, he'll hold your hand and give it three squeezes-- He'll apologize for getting a little ahead of himself, but he doesn't look regretful nor unsure about it at all.
* Every date after, the flowers will be constant. Except, this time, they'll grow in numbers until many dates after, you'll be presented with a bouqet.
* Maybe it's a funny of way saying that his love for you is exponential? Don't be surprised when the flowers turn into something more lasting-- a ring or your initials carved into wet cement or a tree. Whichever it will be, it's love, and with Elmer, your life is full of it.
helllo everyone! sincerely sorry to all the requests idling in my inbox. Academics has me on a chokehold (again) and ive been very busy studying for an important test! i will do my best to get back into the flow of writing soon :)
Okay, sweet bug, my queen of fluff, I have something I need your take on:
How each of the guys would react to you saying "hey, can you hold this for me for a minute?" and then just putting your hand in theirs 🥰
Sorry it took me so long to get to this, Sydni!!!
Here ya go!
Corbeau
“Can you hold this for me a minute?”
Corbeau barely looked up as he reached out, already expecting something tangible—keys, documents, anything that made sense.
Instead, you slid your hand into his.
He stopped.
His fingers remained half-curled, tension flickering through his hand before it closed around yours. He looked down at the point of contact, then up at you, brow furrowing in unmistakable irritation.
“…This isn’t an object,” he said flatly.
You smiled at him.
There was a beat—long enough that you wondered if he was going to pull away out of principle alone.
Then he sighed, sharp and quiet, the sound of a man resigning himself to something he absolutely did not plan for.
“Fine,” Corbeau muttered.
He adjusted his grip, deliberate and firm, as if humoring you on his own terms. His thumb settled against the side of your hand, unmoving at first, his expression carefully neutral as he looked forward again.
“Next time,” he added dryly, “try asking directly.”
Despite the words, his hand didn’t loosen.
Gradually—so subtly you might have missed it—his posture eased. The tension in his shoulders lessened. His thumb brushed your knuckles once, almost absentmindedly.
After a moment, he glanced down again, lips quirking just slightly.
“…Is this long enough for your ‘minute’?” he asked.
When you didn’t answer right away, he huffed quietly.
“I thought so.”
And when you finally tried to pull your hand back, he tightened his grip just enough to stop you.
“Careful,” Corbeau murmured, tone lighter now. “You did ask me to hold it.”
You got the distinct impression that he would be very precise about when he considered the task complete.
==========
Grisham
The lunch rush at Café Nouveau Truck No. 1 had settled into a steady rhythm—steam curling into the air, cups clinking, Griselle calling orders with sharp efficiency while Grisham handled the counter with practiced calm.
“Thank you—have a good afternoon,” he said warmly, passing over a drink with a small nod.
You lingered nearby, waiting while he finished up. When there was a brief lull, you stepped closer.
“Hey,” you said softly, “can you hold this for me for a minute?”
Grisham glanced over and smiled faintly, already reaching out. “Sure.” He expected… something. A cup. A receipt. Maybe your bag.
Instead, you slipped your hand into his.
He blinked.
His fingers curled around yours automatically before his brain quite caught up. He looked down at your joined hands, then back up at you, surprise flickering across his face.
“Oh,” he said quietly.
There was a brief pause—more thoughtful than awkward—before his grip adjusted, gentle but secure. His thumb rested lightly against the side of your hand, warm from the coffee cups.
“…Alright,” Grisham murmured, as if accepting a small, unexpected responsibility. “I’ve got it.”
Griselle noticed immediately.
She leaned against the counter, eyes narrowing with interest. “Is this a thing now?”
Grisham’s ears tinted just a little pink.
“She asked me to hold it,” he said simply.
Griselle snorted. “That’s not a thing. That’s a hand.”
Grisham shot her a look—not sharp, just warning. “Griselle.”
“What?” she said innocently. “I’m just saying, you’re smiling.”
He wasn’t—at least, not obviously. But the tension in his shoulders had eased, and he’d shifted closer to you without realizing it, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
When you gently tugged your hand back after a moment, Grisham hesitated.
“…Oh,” he said again, a little sheepish this time, loosening his grip. “Sorry. I thought you meant longer.”
Griselle grinned. “Sure you did.”
Grisham cleared his throat, still smiling faintly. “Anytime you need me to hold something,” he added, glancing at you, “just let me know.”
And somehow, despite the noise and bustle of the truck, it felt like the simplest promise in the world.
==========
Ivor
The dojo was unusually quiet.
Not empty—just calm. Sunlight streamed in through the high windows, dust motes drifting lazily as Ivor finished setting equipment back in place. Gwynn stood nearby with her arms crossed, watching him with that familiar look of mild skepticism.
You stepped closer, waiting for a pause.
“Hey, Ivor,” you said casually. “Can you hold this for me for a minute?”
“Sure!” he replied instantly, already reaching out. “What is it—wait, is this another balance thing? Like that drill you showed me last week?”
Before he could finish the thought, you slipped your hand into his.
Ivor blinked.
He stared down at your joined hands, then back up at you, brow furrowing in intense concentration.
“…Am I supposed to be doing something?” he asked cautiously. “Because if this is a grip-strength exercise, I should probably—”
“Ivor,” Gwynn cut in flatly.
He looked at her. “What?”
“That’s not training.”
He looked back at your hand.
Then at yours.
Then back at Gwynn.
“Oh.”
There was a very brief moment where you could see the gears turning—slowly, valiantly—before understanding finally dawned.
“Oh!” he said again, louder this time.
His face broke into a grin so wide it was almost blinding.
“Oh—wait—this is just—” he laughed, squeezing your hand without thinking. “You just wanted to—wow, okay, yeah, that makes way more sense.”
Gwynn sighed. “Incredible.”
Ivor didn’t let go.
In fact, he stepped closer, fingers lacing with yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, warm and absentminded, like he’d discovered something precious and was afraid to drop it.
“This is nice,” he said earnestly. “You should’ve said so earlier.”
“I did,” you pointed out. “I asked you to hold it.”
He gasped softly. “You did?”
Gwynn shook her head. “I’m leaving.”
“Okay!” Ivor said cheerfully, not taking his eyes off you.
Once you were alone—or at least not being actively judged—Ivor squeezed your hand again, beaming.
“Anytime,” he said happily. “Seriously. You ever need me to hold something—like, anything—I’m your guy.”
You laughed, and he laughed with you, shoulders relaxing as if something had settled into place.
And if he kept holding your hand long after your “minute” was up?
Well.
That just felt right.
==========
Urbain
Running errands with Urbain was never a quick affair.
Somehow, a simple list turned into three stops, two detours, and at least one enthusiastic conversation with a stranger who definitely did not need to know as much as Urbain was telling them.
You trailed along beside him as he walked, Rotom Phone in one hand, already mid-scroll.
“Alright,” Urbain said absently, “we’ll stop by the market first, then—ah, yes—this should only take a moment.”
You smiled to yourself. “Hey,” you said lightly, stepping closer. “Can you hold this for me for a second?”
“Of course,” Urbain replied immediately, barely glancing up as he reached out.
You slipped your hand into his.
He didn’t notice. At least—not right away.
He kept walking, fingers closing around yours automatically as he continued talking, already tugging you along with him as if this had always been the arrangement. His grip was warm, secure—confident in the way of someone who assumed you’d keep up.
You did.
For the next several minutes, Urbain dragged you gently through the street, weaving between people, stopping abruptly, then starting again without warning—all while holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Oh—wait, we actually need this,” he said, pivoting sharply and pulling you with him. “And I should check—no, never mind, I already did that.”
You caught his hand tightening just slightly whenever the crowd thickened, thumb brushing over your knuckles like a reflex. Still distracted. Still oblivious.
It wasn’t until he finally stopped—really stopped—that he looked down.
His gaze flicked to your joined hands. Then up to you.
There was a pause.
“…Huh,” Urbain said thoughtfully.
You raised a brow.
He smiled slowly, amusement blooming across his face as realization settled in.
“So this is what you wanted me to hold,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. “You could have just said you wanted my hand.”
You shrugged. “You were busy.”
He laughed, soft and warm, and instead of letting go, he adjusted his grip—fingers lacing properly now, deliberate.
“Fair,” Urbain said. “But I don’t mind being distracted for this.”
He leaned in slightly as you resumed walking, his thumb tracing an idle circle against your hand.
“Next time,” he added lightly, “I’ll even pretend not to notice again.”
When you reached your destination and slowed, Urbain finally turned toward you, expression fond and open.
He didn’t say anything this time.
He just leaned down and kissed you—gentle, unhurried, like he’d decided this was the best part of the errand after all.
And when he pulled back, still smiling, he didn’t let go.
“Ready?” Urbain asked cheerfully. “I think we’ve got one more stop.”
You had a feeling you’d be holding hands the entire way.
I saw your blog, and I was wondering if I could request an Edd x reader fic. Maybe one where they at the fair ?
Sorry this took so long, thanks for requesting!
some notes: reader is gender neutral and fic is written in 2nd pov!... and my requests are open for anyone interested!
You Really Got a Hold On Me! (also on ao3) ~ 1,3k words
Autumn came sweeping in like any other year, and the annual fair came trotting into the town not long after. Paired with the cool breeze and crunchy orange leaves, it was the perfect fall season. With that in mind, you figured that the best way to celebrate was by attending the fair that came with.
As you walk past the colorful banners and decorations at the entrance, you begin eyeing all the potential rides that you could go on. Notably, there was the rollercoaster, the carousel, the ferris wheel, and an area reserved for the various carnival games. You opted to try the rollercoaster first, seeing as that is where most of the adrenaline and excitement seem to arise.
Yet, something about the way the tracks wobble and screeching, metallic sounds the coaster made had your stomach churning and dropping, even as you stood here from the line. A part of you begins to just slightly regret your choices, but alas, you’ve already paid the price in the form of a ticket that taunts you in your clenched hands.
Not to mention, with the naturally expected long line, the ride operator explained that people riding alone would have to share their seat with another lone person. Something about making the line shorter and the wait less unbearable. You figured that, as awkward as it could potentially be, you wouldn’t let the idea of your seat neighbour witnessing your utter fear and horror be a bother to you. Not at all…
Speaking of, you glance to your side as sneakily as possible. You get a good look at who would be your potential cart-mate: A handsome, brown-haired man in a green hoodie, ear muffles, and scarf, who fiddles with the hoodie’s hem– He doesn't look that scared, but maybe there's always a reasonable amount of nervousness that occurs when you ride these things.
You looked behind you and found that other people were in a much worse state than you: A man with a green overcoat and a purple hoodie clasps his hands over his face, looking green and ill. His neighbouring partner, a man in a blue coat– with voids for eyes, apparently?-- tries to shuffle as further away as possible in the cramped area with a grimace plastered on his face.
“Oh, those are my friends.” The man beside you says. You turn to look at him properly this time– and is it possible for someone to look even cuter than you initial thought?-- and he looks back with a polite smile. “I’m Edd, by the way. The man in green is Matt, and the annoyed looking guy is Tom.”
You introduced yourself, and nodded over to his ginger friend. “Your buddy seems scared to death. Is this a dare?”
“You could say that. We’ve all got our own little challenges to overcome today– Matt has to ride a coaster without puking all over himself.”
A grimace falls onto your lips. “I’m guessing there’s history to that, then?”
Edd laughs, nodding. You follow, tilting your head and eyeing his expression curiously. He mimics you, tilting his head and pointing towards his face. “Are there crumbs on my face?”
You wave your hand, shaking your head. “No, no. It’s just that, earlier, you didn’t look so confident either. Aren’t you scared as well?”
Edd scratches his cheek, his brows furrowed. “No, I do quite well, really. What about you?”
“Not so much, but not to the point that I’d be all green like your friend there.” You admit after a moment’s hesitation. A light flickers in Edd’s eyes– something akin to when a lightbulb lights up when you gain a wonderful idea. He nods slowly, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking away, as if in deep thought.
Not long after, all seats on the ride were boarded and all safety measures were intact. You shift in your seat as soon as the ride operator begins their countdown. Edd seems to take notice apparently, as he finally finds the courage to strike up conversation with you once more.
“Um.” He begins. “This ride can get intense. We were on this one last year, too, so…”
He pauses, his face beginning to redden– could be the cold, or something much meaningful– and averting your gaze. Before you could ask what’s wrong, he resumes. “If it gets too much, you can hold onto me. If you want to, of course.”
You blink, mostly out of shock and feeling a growing sense of bashfulness in you. Edd seems to panic and about to put himself into a tangent of how it’s mostly for your comfort and nothing ulteriorly creepy, before you both realize that the ride had already begun moments ago, and you’ve reached the point before the famous drop.
A collective mix of screams in horror and excitement ring throughout the area, and you find yourself clutching onto Edd as you shut your eyes as tight as you can– It really misses the point of being on a rollercoaster, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.
Edd stiffens, but seems to relax over the course of the ride and moves his hand to give a small, comforting pat on yours. However, at a concerningly sharp turn, you grasped onto it and held tight. Even with Edd letting out a small hiss of pain, he doesn’t budge nor move– He simply stays put as if to help ground you.
The ride, like all things, ends– but, wow, he wasn’t joking! That was intense. You find yourself stumbling out with the help of Edd, letting you lean onto his frame. It’s also no wonder you see others bent over on the sides or puking over the banisters and railings– Both Matt and Tom, namely. How was this ride even approved, you think to yourself.
Well, that doesn’t really matter when you find yourself being soothed on the back by Edd. He rubs calm, reassuring circles on your back and offers to buy you some water. Even until now, your hands are still intertwined.
In your foggy state, you simply nod along to whatever he’s saying, and he gently guides you to the nearest stall to get you a bottle of water. You gratefully accept it, chugging it down like a man dying of thirst. He puts a hand over his mouth, letting out a soft chuckle. “Well, that ride had its ups and downs, didn’t it?”
You groan, rubbing your face. “Don’t.”
He simply snickers.
“Thanks for letting me, uh, cling onto you, by the way.” You start, looking down at your held hands. “It helped, honestly.”
“No worries, I’m just happy to know that it did.” He grins, following your gaze.
You both don’t say much, letting the feeling of your shared closeness settle in– It felt nice, and so very right. You felt that it would really be such a shame if you both had to part, and you have an inkling that Edd feels the exact same way too, judging by his rosy cheeks and the way he fiddles with his clothing every few seconds.
“It’s, uhm, still pretty early out.” You comment.
Edd blinks, glancing at you with raised brows. “Right.”
“And I’d really like to try all the other rides before it gets dark out.”
He catches on, his lips forming into an ‘o’ shape. “Right. So, we can’t waste any time, can’t we?”
“Definitely not.” You say, a grin beginning to form on your lips. He smiles too, and your heart skips a beat as Edd tugs you along to the next ride, feeling lighter than air. Fairs are always filled with their own, special surprises, and you really like this one.
