#august headcanons

[hckzee]

Hello there! I was wondering if you can write yandere!August? I haven’t seen one yet so I was wondering if u could make one? hehe 🥹

— AUGUST STILZA YANDERE HEADCANONS + SCENARIO!

.ᐟ OOHHH LEMME COOK WITH THIS ONE, BABYYY!!!

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

In his eyes, you are the perfect muse. No matter if you're short, tall, thin, wide, you're the person who he dreams of creating clothes for

Absolutely smitten by your reactions when he lets you try his designs. The doors are locked, a Do-Not-Disturb sign hanging on the knob, as he does not want others to see you in his clothing

"OOHHH, BABY! YOU LOOK SO DAMN GOOD ON THAT!" "GIVE ME A TWIRL—OH, MAMA, THINK YOU JUST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK!"

The same hyper-focus he puts into his projects shifts entirely onto you when you walk into his workshop. He abandons the fabrics and spins around to greet you with that too-bright smile

"You're here! Good! I work better when you're 'round here, y'know!"

His jealousy is loud as well. If someone gets too close to you, he'll laugh too loudly, stepping beside you while snaking an arm around your waist

"Buddy... why're you talking to my person?" "August... he was just asking for some directions." "So he's lost and stupid? Man, what a sad combo."

He doesn't really hide his jealousy; in fact, he sees it as a form of affection. Kind of a way to protect you

He procrastinates on everything except you. Deadlines? Ignored. Repairs for uniforms? Half-finished. Designs? Haven't even began brainstorming! But the moment you asked for something, no matter how big or small it is, he finishes it the same day no questions asked

"HERE, BABY! I finished it all up—just for you!" "Thank you, August! You didn't have too, though. Don't you have some uniforms that need repairs?" "Eh, you're more important than those."

This man is LOUD in all capital letters. Doesn't hesitate to put a claim on you the moment he laid eyes on you

"HEYA! THAT'S MY FUTURE PARTNER RIGHT THERE! HELL YEAH, THEY ARE, SO BACK OFF!"

Almost all of your clothes are handmade by August—and it shows. His colours cling to you, like a bold statement to everyone else that you're his. He knows your shape, posture, silhouette better than you ever could, so of course, he took the initiative. Your old clothes? Gone. Replaced with a brand-new wardrobe crafted entirely by him!

"August! You really didn't have too..." "It's my pleasure, baby! Besides, you look so much better with those colours of mine!"

He's extremely and impossibly clingy—almost to the point of suffocation. If he's not out there dragging you into his workshop under the guise of a "motivation booster," he's never far from your side. Even when you're around other Cleaners, he's practically glued to your back

He'll try to isolate you—he wants to monopolise your attention on him and only him. Why would you need other people when he's loud enough for you two? But, knowing that it's futile, he'll resort to subtle methods to ensure you always end up in his workshop. A missing stich. A collar that's slightly too tight. A layer on the verge of falling off. Somehow, your uniform always has one minor yet glaring problem after mission—yet your everyday outfits remained perfectly fine

"August... Are you there? Sorry to bother you, but my uniform—" "BABYYY!! DIDN'T I TELL YA THAT YOU'RE ALWAYS WELCOME IN MY HUMBLE ABODE!"

If someone else tries to wear a design meant for you, he'll be silent and terrifying calm

"I'll give you three seconds to take that off before I sew you up dead."

He keeps everything you accidentally leave behind. Be it a scrap of paper, hairpin, or even a broken button, he has an entire shelf both in his bedroom and workshop dedicated to your stuff. It's surprisingly well-hidden too, though most just assume it's spare items

Eishia has to hear everything about you through his brother. It gets to the point where she, too, knows almost everything there is to know about you—and the girl only encounters you whenever you're injured or hanging out with Team Akuta!

"AND THEN, THEY SMILED AND HUGGED ME AS THANK YOU! AREN'T THEY SUCH A SWEETHEART, EISHEY-WEISHEY?!" "Brother... you've been telling me that story for five hours already."

The reason he shares so much with his sister is because it's important to him that his family likes and approves of you. You can bet that Grandma Alice is sick and tired of hearing August yap about you that she all but demands him to just marry you already

"AUGUST! IF YOU LIKE THEM THAT MUCH, JUST MARRY THEM ALREADY AND SHUT UP." "BUT, GRAN-GRAN! IF I MARRY THEM, THEN I'LL HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THEM EVEN MORE!"

He already has numerous wedding dresses sketched and ready to be made. He just had to always get your measurements just in case of any last-minute changes

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

YOU ONLY STOPPED by August's workshop to have him fix your uniform for the nth time. Sighing, you glared at the clothing bundled in your hand. Why was it always you? The other Cleaners didn't have your streak of bad luck with uniforms—hell, there was even a betting pool on if you were going to return with an intact uniform.

So far, nobody has betted on that.

You grumbled, dragging your feet toward the double doors with a clear sign in red, bold ink: DO NOT DISTURB! GO AWAY! IF YOU ENTER, I WILL NIBBLE ON YOUR TOES (THAT'S NOT A THREAT, BUT A PROMISE!)

You knocked twice before opening the door in a small gap. "August...?" you called out, voice low. "I'm sorry to bother you, but my uniform—"

You didn't even have time to finish your sentence before the door swung wide open with a bang. August stood in front of you, arms spread wide, teeth bared to the world, as his eyes settled on you under his goggles.

"BABYYY!" he greeted, enveloping you in a tight hug, "DIDN'T I TELL YA THAT YOU'RE ALWAYS WELCOME IN MY HUMBLE ABODE?!"

Weakly, you replied, "Um, yeah. But you had your sign up, so I figured you were doing something important."

August all but threw his head back wildly, craning his neck and cackling so loud that the sound bounced off the workshop walls like a malfunctioning fire alarm. You were anticipating a groggy Zanka arriving a few minutes later to complain about the noise, grumpily muttering about letting people sleep in during their day off.

"IMPORTANT?!" the blond man barked, lifting you clean off the ground. "BABY, THE ONLY IMPORTANT THING I SEE RIGHT NOW IS YOU!"

You sighed, all too used with August's antics as you dangled helplessly in his arms, legs swinging like a depressed wind chime. "Put me down, August," you wheezed.

He did, ever so gently. Your feet landing softly on the floor, surrounded by piles of sketches, fabrics, and trinkets that went along on the Cleaner’s uniform.

“So!” August started, already siting on his chair and leaning forward at your direction. “What’re you here for, babe? Got another project for me? Wanna watch me work on the uniforms? OH! I got it—“ he snapped a finger, smiling brightly “—you finally wanna go on a date with me!”

You blushed, remembering how this man has no filter nor shame with it comes to his feelings to you. Not that you weren't well aware already, but it never ceases to amaze you that he could repeatedly confess to you even when you're still trying to untangled your emotions.

"You wish!" you coughed, hiding your flushed cheeks before pushing your uniform to his chest. "My uniform acted up again during my mission... The seams were undone so I had to fight while not flashing any trash beasts."

August bellowed with laughter, doubling over so hard he nearly toppled his chair. "HAAAA?! THAT UNIFORM OF YOURS IS A MENACE, BABY! A CRIMINAL!" He snatched the fabric from your hands and held it up to the light, squinting fiercely through his goggles. "IT DARES TO SHOW YOU OFF TO THOSE TRASH BEASTS! UNFORGIVABLE!"

He then struck a pose, one hand hiding his lower face while the other, still holding your uniform, pointed straight at you. "Only I get to see you like that, yeah!"

You shook your head, already too used to hearing those words. "Yeah, yeah. Only you, August. Only you," you repeated, a small smile tugging your lips as he cheered in delight. "Anyway, can you find the time to repair the seams? I have another mission tomorrow."

"I CAN DO IT RIGHT NOW!" he barked, spinning around his chair so fast you had to hold his shoulders down.

"You really can do it later if you're busy—"

He zipped your mouth with a finer, smirking as he clicked his tongue. "Baby, did ya forgot? The only important thing here is you." He then turned to the table, opening a cabinet as he began working on your uniform. His hands moved fast, threading needles, tugging seams, and stitching with a frenzied precision that you hoped won't result in another meeting tomorrow.

Every so often, he'd glance up at you, eyes bright and unblinking, like he was making sure you hadn't left yet. Well, you learned better than to leave early when asking him for repairs.

You also didn't really give it much of a thought that you were in his workshop in an almost daily basis. You're fighting skills were close-combat whilst others tended to have some sort of respectable distance from the trash beasts, so it made sense to you that your uniform was more of a victim than theirs.

August suddenly stood, startling you as he draped the repaired uniform over your shoulders, his hands lingering just a heartbeat too long.

"There," he murmured, voice low and almost gentle. "Perfect fit. Just like always."

You looked down at the perfectly mended stitches, so clean you could barely tell it was torn apart just moments earlier. You smiled at him, patting his biceps gratefully. "Thanks again, August. I owe you one." Then, your smile gained a teasing edge to it, softly punching his arm. "You made sure it'll stay in one piece this time, right?"

August's smile stretched wide, almost reaching his eyes as he hugged you tight. "No need for any of that, baby! All you gotta do is stay by my side always, yeah!"

His fingers squeezed your shoulders, nails almost digging into your muscles as he inched his face closer to yours. "Come back any time your uniform breaks! Or when it doesn't! Or for no reason at all! This workshop's as yours as it is mine!"

You laughed, nodding to his words. "Yes, yes; I hear you, August. Thanks again!" You turned back, already a step over his doors before sending one final look over your shoulder. "Oh! And make sure your door's not locked later, okay? Heard that the kitchen's making some desserts tonight!"

"WOULDN'T MISS IT FOR THE WORLD, BABY!" August laughed, dying down when you closed the door shut.

Damn, he already missed your presence. The warmth you radiated as you leaned against him, watching him repair your uniform. The way he could feel your heartbeat thumping against his shoulder blades, buzzing him with so much restless affection he almost threw away the fabrics and pulled you to his lap.

He reached up, touching the spot on his biceps where your hand rested, as though the heat still lingered there. His grin softened, imaging how you would react if he leaned down for a kiss during that moment. He bet you would blush like crazy, face burning like a fire to skillet while trying to hide behind your uniform.

Then, it dawned on August that he didn't really answer your last question. Not that you noticed it, but it brought a sense of satisfaction and thrill that you still trusted him even after all the mishaps your uniform had given you.

And if he had "accidentally" left a few button loose on your uniform, well... all you had to do was come back to him again.

All in a day's work.

[xox0cherry]

August and his Chic Gf

Pairing: August x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, definitely NOT proofread

August who just LOVES styling. Everyday was basically a fashion show for him. Especially the days when you weren't expected to wear you uniform.

August who always submits himself to your requests. You ask for a cute with detailed fur? You got it! Or how about some capri's with embroidered flowers going up the leg? Just give him a few business days.

August who sometimes gets red whenever you brag about your clothes. Immediately making sure to whomever you're talking to that they better request him of anything.

August who has all your favorite patterns and colors memorized. He has piles and piles scattered in his work space. Whether Cheeta print or simple hot pink lace.

August who has made you an entire collection of lingerie and stringy bikinis. He pounces whenever you decide to wear one of his 'special' pieces for him, and just how well you respond. And when you wear one of your skimpy bikini's or swimsuits out, he is definitely your biggest cheerleader. Generously adding sunscreen to places you can't reach. Even made you matching sunglasses, flip flops, and cover up that goes with your outfit.

August who sometimes makes coordinating outfits for the two of you, sometimes even with Eishia as well. Which usually results in the three of you going out together, well more like Eishia getting dragged along in a certain extent.

August who has made a game out of having you draw an outfit in his sketchbook and recreating it irl just even better.

[laylaroze]

August Stilza

He’s Jealous

August Stilza x Fem.reader

Author: devillla_a

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.

On the highest shelf.

Near the ceiling.

In the shadows.

So its ash-gray color wouldn’t ruin his muse.

[hannii-space]

Cuddling with Gachiakuta Boys

Zanka, Gris, August, Follo taking care and cuddling, Headcanons, Fluff and sweet stuff (request)

Zanka

💌He's the type to get embarrassed easily, so he won't give long speeches, letting his actions speak for him.

💌After training together, he'll rush to bring you water or a towel for your sweat.

💌He'll keep an eye on you at all times during missions, checking if your shoelaces are tied properly or if you're wearing your mask correctly.

💌He'll stroke your back or head to congratulate you on a job well done.

💌 When sleeping, he lies with one arm under your head; the deeper he sleeps, the more he'll wrap a leg around you.

💌If you try to move, one of his hands will move up to your waist to pull you closer.

💌 He'll definitely fall asleep faster next to you.

Gris

💌He loves physical contact and will constantly have a hand on your waist or lower back.

💌He'll tell you that you're his favorite person in the world every five minutes.

💌He'll keep an eye on you, checking if you ate, slept well, or how your day went.

💌He wouldn't let you hang out with Enjin, of course.

💌He'd spend time alone looking for gifts for you. If you collect anything, he'd definitely look for something for your collection.

💌He moves around a lot in his sleep, but he's always trying to touch you, even if it's just with one hand.

💌Definitely only Big Spoon, no matter if it's hot or cold.

💌He'd wake up in the middle of the night to check that you're covered.

August

💌He'd be designing matching outfits for special occasions.

💌He loves having you around when he's designing something.

💌He'd take your hand and pull you close, loving it when you sit on his lap.

💌He'd shout that he loves you and give you super cute and sweet nicknames.

💌When you sleep, you'll most likely end up with his hair all over you.

💌He'd hold you close almost all night.

💌When you wake up, he'd open one eye first to check that you're still there and then snuggle up to you like a cat.

Follo

💌If you're tired, he'd sit next to you and let you rest your head in his shoulder

💌He'd tuck your hair behind your ear just to see your beautiful eyes.

💌 He loves kissing your forehead and holding you warmly, no matter the situation.

💌He adores it when you hold his hand and pull him close for walks.

💌When sleeping, he'd maintain his own space, perhaps sleeping face to face.

💌He's a light sleeper, so if you wake up, he'll get up with you to check you're okay.

💌He likes it when you rest your head on his chest and hug him around the waist.

Masterlist

[fairestmusesismoving]

would you be my king if i lost everything cause i’d be your queen through anything xenia, summer dress Enjoy some Royal Wooden Swan mood. Permission to reblog granted. If you don’t like it, go make your own mood board. Simple.

[mxlignxnt-a]

//My favorite thing about August is he’s just this single dad who is completely human and doesn’t know what to do about his half-witch son with developing powers. He’s trying though. Does some not so helpful research to try to understand. Although trying to explain away powers going a bit wonky and doing some crazy things is a bit difficult. 

[stumacherstan]

hey can you like write abt us actually knowing that we’re flirting and doing it right? alright thanks also you’re hot 😎

;) you’re hotter

August Flirting Headcanons:

So it starts through casual texting

It starts about the talk of something small that turns into somehthing bigger

I start throwing in cheesy pick up lines

You reply with more pick up lines

I laugh at your flirt attempts

“Haha what if we laid our Minecraft beds next to each other. Jk jk. I mean,,, unless???”

You cackle and say sure

I grin at my phone

Little pet names start coming out

I can’t help but give you little nicknames. You’re way too adorable not to

You make little sly comments about what ifs

We start snapping each other goofy selfies

Mine goes with cute captions about how you good you look

And you reply with hearts

Life is good

[mementomorphosis]

I think I’m a little shoddy at actually portraying Aug’s prejudices accurately. Because although he preaches against human hate and dislikes how some ghouls basically run off it like gasoline, he definitely isn’t squeaky clean himself. Disregarding his previous affiliations with the Ghoul Resistance (who definitely exacerbated his racism from “mostly harmless since he barely sees humans in Underworld” to “REEEEEE NORMIES”), the Ghoul Expulsion of Diamond City, and the fact that he comes across as painfully tryhard, he still has a lot of trouble trusting humans. He assumes that most, if not all of them, are going to fuck him over in some way and he’s just going to have to roll with the punches because it’s the Right Thing to Do. But that doesn’t change the fact that he thinks they’re all conniving, viscous bastards to begin with. And it definitely doesn’t change the fact that when humans are nice to him, he believes they’re just trying to lead him on. True, he genuinely trusts Floyd, but that’s only due to years of them knowing each other, and even then the kid, as much as he loves him, is pretty much his Token Smoothskin. 

He’s basically the kind of person who’d say something like “I-I’m not racist. Some of my friends are smoothski-- humans.” Although he’s getting better.

Slowly.