s/o with a crude, brash, and confident personality hcs ; assorted windbreaker characters
‘I was wondering if you could make a scenario or a headcanon is thats whats it's called but anyways could you make a windbreaker ( with all the Bofurin characters especially with choji and Togame ) having a girlfriend reader! who's personality is like [the title]’
choji / sakura/ suo / togame / umemiya x female ! reader insert
i altered the original request a bit here for two reasons. one because i have never seen the series used as a reference for the reader’s personality in the ask (and from what i can tell it would not be very conducive to this blog’s fluff-only theme). and two because the original requester asked for every character and there are tagging limits so… this is all i’ve got for now lol
requested by anonymous
Choji Tomiyama
tomiyama is your number one enabler and the king of making things so much worse for everyone involved — yes it’s funny, but also just because he’s able to win a fight against the other person doesn’t mean he should be encouraging you to keep on antagonising them
finds you and your antics very amusing — even when they’re directed at him. like as long as you’re still making him laugh and keeping things interesting he couldn’t care less about whatever jabs you make about his height or whatever
prior to his fight with umemiya and his big realisation, he probably encouraged you to redirect your more cruel and rude remarks towards the weakest members of shishitoren before their ‘skinning’ and exile
views you as an extremely ‘free’ person because of how confident and brash you are with others — your willingness to be loud and offensive, your insistence on taking up space, is to tomiyama a sign of how free you are and is probably what drew him to you in the first place
matches your energy more often than not and so it’s usually up to togame to rein you both in and get you under control where it counts — because there are times where they as a group cannot afford to start a physical altercation on their leader’s girlfriend’s behalf
Hajime Umemiya
oh dear… well as the old saying goes: ‘opposites attract’!
umemiya tends to take what you say with a grain of salt and is happy to laugh along with the jokes you make — as long as you help him out and the work gets done in the end, who is he to complain?
sometimes he even plays along — when he’s not caught up with his gardening, cooking, or bofurin duties that is
he’s also made a habit of pre-emptively apologising for your bluntness and brash behaviour whenever you’re out and about — because he’s well aware that not everyone has the same amount of patience that he does and he’d rather not have to intervene in a fight between his girlfriend and whoever you managed to get on the wrong side of today
he does love and adore you, make no mistake about that, but if he feels like your brashness and jokes will cause problems with a group he’s meeting with then he will just straight up send you on tasks elsewhere to make sure you don’t run into them
he wouldn’t do it if he had to, and he will make it up to you later if you catch onto exactly what he’s doing — he promises!
Haruka Sakura
uh oh
well as long as you don’t go out of your way to start insulting sakura like you would other people you should be fine — otherwise he will match fire with fire and things can spiral into an actual fight quite quickly unless you give up or someone calms you both down
not that he doesn’t love you or find how crass you can be amusing, it’s just that there are limits and he’s not above fighting the people he loves if it means establishing or enforcing a boundary (or just to preserve his ego, as is usually the case when he threatens to fight his classmates)
he can be pretty brash at times himself so he’s in no place to judge you for it, and if he thinks the other party did something to deserve your mocking and insults then he’ll join in and help you
(granted his ‘help’ more so consists of threats and actually fighting the other person, but still)
you two butt heads a lot early on in your relationship, but over time he does get used to your… let’s call them eccentricities… and those arguments start becoming less frequent and less serious
… but there are still moments where someone else (usually suo) has to step in and calm you both down because you really hit a nerve while messing with him and he decided to fight you as compensation
Hayato Suo
as much as suo loves you as his girlfriend and finds your antics amusing, of the characters listed he’s the most willing to step in and put a stop to things whenever he thinks you’re going a bit too far
which is usually when you start stooping to childish insults and behaviours — which he, naturally, deems unbefitting and not very ‘adult’/mature of you and thus not something he wants you to become reliant on
that being said he will get into fights for you if necessary — wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of him to let his girlfriend get her hands dirty, after all — but you will get scolded a lot after the fact for being so reckless and verbally aggressive with others
and those scoldings get even worse if you don’t even know how to fight — like he may not look it at all but he is really not pleased with you putting yourself in danger like this
that being said, whenever you turn your attention to him and start trying to mess with him suo takes it all well, usually while wearing a polite smile and responding with either a goading/condescending ‘yeah?’ or a hum of acknowledgement — until you lose interest and give up (bonus points if you get all huffy and pouty about being bested because he finds that adorable)
Jo Togame
you’re like the complete opposite of togame, in a similar-ish way to choji, and that’s probably what drew him to you in the first place
he finds your confidence and unwillingness to change who you are for other people to be admirable, cute in a way even, and he almost envies you for it
… though admittedly there are moments where he really wishes you would tone it down with the more offensive jokes
(he usually just brushes them off but… come on, time and place)
if you get yourself into a fight with someone else because you managed to upset or offend them then he will come to your defence — but he will also scold you for not taking your strength and size into account when initiating the altercation
especially if you yourself can’t actually fight!
will very occasionally join you in making fun of someone if the person in question happens to be someone he himself doesn’t like for whatever reason — and while his insults might not be quite as pointed, your threats do compliment each other quite nicely all things considered
I'm so sorry it took me forever and a day to get to this, love.. I know it's a bit short, and I hope he's not too out of character, but I hope you still enjoy it. ♡
You and Inui had been friends since you were children, growing up in the same neighborhood.
You tried to stop him from fighting all the time, and his involvement with the gang put a bit of a strain on your relationship throughout out the years solely because you hated seeing him hurt.
You were both adults now, and you sat in his room, next to him, pushing his hair behind his ear and looking at the big gash on his cheek.
"I told you to stop fighting Inupi.. you never listen to me even after all this time." You say with disappointment in your voice, dipping the rag into the warm water again, bringing it to Inui's face, wiping the blood off of him gently.
"Yeah.. I'm fine. The other guy looks worse." He says, very monotone, slightly flinching as the rag presses against the cut and you push it into his face a little harder, making him hiss from the slight pain pulling his face away and looking at you.
"That doesn't make me feel better.. when are you gonna learn some patience.. just because someone says something to piss you off, it doesn't mean hit them.. we're adults now.."
He groans, hating when you reprimand him and taking the rag from you, not trusting you to not push it into his face again.
"Don't give me that look. You know I'm right." You say crossing your arms.
He puts the rag back into the bowl of warm water and he stands up.
"Are we going bowling or what? I'm fine, and he deserved it." His tone sounded like he was annoyed, but having been his friend for so long, you know it's just the way he is.
"Not until you tell me what he did that pissed you off. You had stopped fighting for a while, so he must've said or done something." You say stepping in front of him as he tries to walk to the door.
He looks at you sighing. "He didn't do anything, just said something to piss me off, okay. It's not a big deal. He deserved it."
"That's not an answer, Inupi.."
"He said something about you. Look, y/n, it's really not a big deal. Let's go."
"If it was about me, it was probably something stupid.. they don't know me.. you should've just ignored it."
"I can't do that."
"Why not?" He looks away from you with a sigh.
He'd never been one to talk about his feelings. He didn't know how to put them into words, and it felt.. weird to let the words come past his lips after all this time.
"Because it's you.. I won't let anyone disrespect you. I didn't when we were kids and I won't now." You stand there looking at him, afraid that if you spoke, he wouldn't say what was clearly on his mind.
"I didn't push you away when we were younger because I cared about the gang more than you. It was because.. I cared about you more. I never wanted you to be something they could use against me.. I'd do unspeakable things just to keep you safe."
"But wh.."
"Because I love you." He mutters softer than intended and an uncharacteristic blush crossing his cheeks a look of annoyance on his face as he looked away, knowing you wouldn't have left him alone about it till he admitted it.
He doesn't hear you say anything so he looks at you confused by your silence just to find a playful grin on your face and you snicker softly.
"Don't."
"You're blushing, Inupi." You say poking his cheek and he lightly pushes your hand away.
"Stop it. You're annoying." He says, and he takes your hand. "Now let's go. We were supposed to meet the others 30 minutes ago."
As he walks past you, you wrap your arms around him, lying your head on his back.
"I love you too."
He lets out a soft "hm." a small grin on his face as he turns his head to the side to look at you from the corner of his eye.
"Yeah, I know. You're not good at hiding it."
He says bluntly, and you let him go, looking at him.
"You're annoying."
"Yeah, yeah. Guess that makes two of us, now let's go." He says, taking your hand, leading you out the door with him, and you can't help the warm feeling of happiness in your chest.
she loves loves loves being able to call you her wife and will take any and every opportunity she possibly can to say it — e.g. ‘my wife baked this for me’, ‘i’m meeting up with my wife later’, ‘this reminds me of something my wife said the other day’, etc. — and whenever you refer to her as your wife in return she absolutely swoons. like she gets so red and flustered that it’s borderline ridiculous
and when she’s not calling you her wife she’s cycling through a selection of sweet semi-traditional pet names that she’s been calling you since you were just dating (e.g. ‘darling’, ‘my love’, ‘sweetheart’, and so on)
the type of spouse who is all in on matching outfits and accessories with you — ideally she’d love to just have one large shared closet with you, but if you have a slightly different style or are a different size to her then she’ll compromise on just having similar outfits and only matching your accessories
she’s a very clingy and heavy sleeper, so if you’re a naturally early riser you will have to practically pry her off of you if you want to get out of bed
she also never seems to sleep quite as soundly unless she’s wrapped up snugly in your arms in your bed, but that’s been a thing for as long as you’ve been a couple so it’s of little surprise that it continued to be the case after the two of you married
daily picnics are a must and she will plan out her schedule down to the minute if that’s what it takes to ensure that the two of you can have a nice relaxing lunch together
she’s an excellent baker and a wonderful meal planner but she’s not the best cook, so that particular duty will end up falling to you… or you’ll end up eating a lot of baked goods and ‘cold’ foods like sandwiches and salads
will regularly ask for your help in picking out her outfits for each day, pulling out a small selection of similar-but-different dresses and their accompanying accessories for you to pick from — and she always follows your advice and thanks you with a kiss on each cheek and a peck on the lips before she goes to get dressed
she’s the type of wife that will just randomly take your hand and start dancing with you in the kitchen or living room in the middle of baking some sort of sweet treat
you’re her absolute favourite person and she could talk to you for hours without ever growing bored or weary… unfortunately as you both have lives to attend to you will end up inevitably having to cut her off at some point to remind her that you have things to do, promising to continue where you left off later on
very physically affectionate and if she had it her way she’d be able to kiss and cuddle you every hour of the day — but, alas, there are things that need to be done and not everything can be accomplished while cuddling and being all touchy and sweet with one’s wife so she has to settle with only cuddling with you most of the time
she goes all out for your birthday every year, tailoring the celebration to your tastes perfectly even if your own preferences are far removed from her own — because it’s your day and she loves being able to celebrate you with other people who love you like she does
Tags: angst/fluff, another bad day, losing your dignity, illness, someone who cares, there is a fever dream, Gaeul's relationship, struggling with your identity, we got a twist at the end
Inspiration: "Why Am I Like This?" by Orla Gartland
(A/N: Finally, another chapter to this slowly developing plot. I jope you enjoy it. @firagaarmor for obvious reasons)
"Didn't you say 108,000?"
"No, sir, it's 180,500 won."
"Oh, I see."
The old, fragile fingers of this confused, bald man creep back into his purse, trying to find another bill in what is probably a maze of money and plastic cards for him. You wouldn’t mind it one bit, you get paid either way and on usual nights, traffic is so little that barely anyone else gets inconvenienced. However, tonight is rather unusual. Apparently everyone forgot something and is now in a haste to buy said something. There is a long line of impatient stressed moms, annoyed teenagers and everything in between or beyond showing or voicing their disapproval.
It’s not you, you’re not the cause for their stress and discomfort, yet the customer’s toxicity still flies to you like you’re some kind of magnet. It all comes back to stab you, with passive-aggressive remarks or the glances up and down your small frame. Doesn’t really help that you only had cold ramen noodles, sweets and a little bit of bread in the past five days and that the ice cold showers make your nose itch with an impending cold. God, you must look pathetically miserable, even for your standards.
After the man finally gets his cash together, the checkouts are fast, heartless, and your heart aches for her to be at the end of the line. Gaeul—with her bright hair and even brighter smile to greet you when she is out buying drinks again—she could really save this evening. You yearn for her encouragement and presence more than for the next hot meal. Maybe even more than for the next two hot meals.
But there is no blonde angel to save you tonight. With the last customer buying their groceries, the lights die one by one, leaving you in a mostly empty store, alone with thousands and thousands of tasty and not-so-tasty products you’d love to put into a pan and fry. The thuds of your sneakers on the floor almost drown out the grumble in your stomach or the sniffling of your nose as you walk into yet another cold night with nothing to look forward to.
I fucking hate this shit.
#
You want to vomit, throw yourself off your bed, tear every single strand of your dark hair out as you dial your mother's number again. You hope it’s over quickly, but one can never know with her, especially if she still stubbornly refuses to help you. Take deep breaths, try to keep your head straight though thinking has become more and more exhaustive with every calorie you’re missing.
“What is it?” your mother groans, though you find her tone to be a lot more amused than last time. Someone is cheering and laughing in the background, drowning out even the loud TV.
“The bills, mom. I still have no electricity, no hot water, no heater.”
“Oh right.”
A response colder than your room. You try to straighten your back to speak to her loud and clear, with at least some authority, but you feel yourself crumble when the clanking of bottles loudly booms through the speaker.
“Did… did your boss finally pay you?” you carefully ask, earning an immediate response.
“Yes, he did.”
“Then why didn’t you pay the bills?”
Silence, except for the crime drama running in the back, finding all the suspects and then the killer, as they always do. This case right here is totally clear, no one needs to investigate for more than five minutes to find out that she is at fault, yet it feels like you're on trial, awaiting your parole, which for some reason is still in the balance.
“You know, sweetheart,” your mother cheekily responds, her saliva loudly flopping around in her mouth, mixed with the disgusting flavor of cigarettes and beer. “I really worked hard for that money. It’s my money. In the end I can decide what happens with it.”
Oh God, don’t do that, please for the love of—and don’t call me sweetheart.
“You can’t be serious,” you barely chirp out, your heart throbbing, crumbling like your entire body as you can see your entire foundation, the fragile remains of your fake stability finally falter. You can never cover all of your expenses with this one job and you can’t quit school now, not after getting so close to finally finishing it. You need her money and she seems to finally use it against you.
“It’s just the truth,” she responds nonchalantly, her voice a lot lighter and higher in pitch than usual. You hear someone cackle in the background.
“Sweetheart.
Don’t call me that.
“How about you—
Don’t do this.
“—start begging for my money. C’mon! Get on your knees and beg for it! I’m tired of funding your lazy, incompetent lifestyle. You should be so grateful for my throwing money at you all these years.
“I didn’t hear you! Get your lazy ass out of your bed now, and on your damn knees.
“Beg for it.”
Laughter from behind her. It's not the TV.
#
A hot shower, warm noodles, a cozy bed—they never felt so wrong, so disgusting. Even as your life objectively improves, it feels horrible, like you had to sell yourself and your soul for it to happen.
Your knees are still drawn to the floor. You might sit in a chair, listen to teachers all day or sit at the checkout, pulling items over the scanner, your knees still feel like they should get on the floor and beg.
Please let me pass.
Please give me more money.
Please leave me alone.
Please ignore my embarrassing existence.
"Hey."
"Uhhh, good evening, ma'a—Gaeul?"
Gaeul's dainty fingers catch your shoulders as you slump forward, against the checkout counter and almost fold over. Your body, devoid of energy, loses all tension.
“Hey, hey,” Gaeul calls out to you, and like the caring mother you never had, the warm palm of her hand cups your forehead. “Oh lord, you’re so hot! You’re definitely sick, what are you doing here?”
“I-I have to work,” you respond, a wave of something hot and heavy pressing down on your brain. This lava burns itself into you and makes every thought process excruciatingly hard. You haven’t even noticed it until now. “I’m not sick, every-thing is fine.”
Your smile is weak, dozy and fake, it cannot fool Gaeul a bit. Her beautiful face falls into deep wrinkles of worry as you can barely lift yourself out of her supporting arms. There is an awkward pause between the two of you, only interrupted by another customer clearing their throat. You try to get back to scanning, but one of Gaeul’s cans slips through your fingers a couple of times.
“I don’t think you should do this,” Gaeul says quietly, softly. “You don’t need to prove your toughness, it’s okay to be sick for a few days. I think your boss will understand.”
“Really, Gaeul, I’m okay.” The final can, straight into the blonde’s bag. Through your blurry eyes you can barely make out the color of her jacket, or sweater, or whatever it is—either way, it definitely suits her. “Thanks for worrying though.”
#
Why did I push her away like this? Why didn’t I listen to her? Why am I always like this?
Everything is hot and everything is cold. You need another jacket or the cold will get worse, but it simultaneously feels like you could die from overheating if you don’t start throwing away layer after layer of clothes. The way your body feels is close to how the inner mechanisms in your brain work in this fever haze. There is nothing, no thought, no conclusion, nothing that matters—yet everything is suddenly relevant.
Objects and details you’ve never actively released before come into focus of your decreasing sight, that one tile in the corner, just as dirty and unspecial as the rest, the second package of gum, purple and pink, the spooky hum when the door opens that never appears when it closes. So you stumble out of the store, tripping over your feet until the fever finally strikes you down.
The concrete, its gray color, is darker the colder it gets. It’s also harder, torturous to lay upon, scorching hot skin on freezing tarmac. Suddenly, brand new sneakers, black and white, small feet, about as small as your own, though they could be—
“Oh my God!”
—a bit bigger, judging by the length of the stockings covered legs that—
“Here, I’ll help you”
—disappear in a plaid skirt, above a combo of thick winter jacket and—
“I knew this was bad. Taxi!”
—a girl, whose hair is both silver and golden, a blonde close to whiteness, nonetheless it looks like a crown adorning and framing her perfectly formed features.
Gaeul.
#
You’re lost in a dream. A school full of students, their ages varying drastically and you do not recognize a single face. The teachers seem a lot more familiar, though they float through the room carelessly, gravity not applying to them. In fact, gravity only applies to you, as the rest of the students fly around the room with their chairs and desks.
A frame of an angel, her hands brushing your cheek, scorching hot, so she puts a wet towel on your face. That’s so nice of her, you must be sick. Sick or not, you cannot miss the day you go to the zoo with the floating class.
The zoo is filled with people, nothing but people. People that look at odd people. Those that have to stand on one leg, those that can’t talk properly, those who like weird things. You can hear your whole class laugh hysterically at all of them, so weird, so wrong, nothing better than to laugh at sickos and be glad that you’re not one of them.
“Uhm, hi.” A voice in the far background, damp, behind a shut door. “Care to explain why you have another girl in your bed?”
You feel like you have to explain yourself, but words are nothing more than concepts in your head, also the zoo is calling, you have to watch the lively corpses float through the water tanks. Luckily, someone speaks for you. The angel.
“She’s a friend and she is sick. That’s all there is to it, Yujin.”
"Oh, really?" The other voice is skeptical, eyebrows raised and she looks for a clever response. “I guess she got sick while laying in your bed? Gaeul, don’t lie to me, okay? Just be straightforward with me.”
“I—” the angel stutters and falls silent. You however found a new enclosure in this zoo which stretches in all directions. This one is rather empty and the enclosure is also no enclosure, just a mirror with a writing above it: ‘Sicko girls that like other girls’.
The reflection is you, of course, in all your—
“What am I going to do with you, hm?” The other voice, now a tall woman of incredible beauty, twirls a couple of golden strands of the angel and tugs them behind her ear with a weak—dishonest, you feel—smile. “The long hair suited you better. I really liked that.”
“I know, Yujin.”
The reflection is you, in all your fault and imperfection, far from perfection and any heavenly being. You are no angel, just a sicko girl that likes girls—and the whole class is laughing.
#
You open your eyes, but the aching, hot pain in your temple and a heavy, wet towel on top of it make actually seeing, realizing anything a pain in the ass. Just the outline of a small face looking down on you, very familiar, very pretty—oh, what a relief to have Gaeul be the first thing you see.
“Wh-where am I?” you ask past dry lips.
“Oh, you’re awake.” Gaeul turns around and quickly reaches for a bottle of water. “Here, drink this, your body needs a lot of water now. You’re in my—my friend's apartment.”
“Damn, then it must have been real fucking bad—”
You cover your mouth, realizing your loud curse in a foreign room, foreign bed, where are your manners, they might have foreign customs. Gaeul’s eyes fall shut when she begins to lightly chuckle.
“Don’t worry, she’s not here right now,” Gaeul says. “You’re all good. B-but you can’t stay here forever. Just rest up and—you have somewhere to stay, right?”
You carefully remove the towel from your face, catching all the drops running down your forehead as you think about home, your home, finally warm because you threw away your dignity. You’d love to not go there, tear up the contract for rent and run away to something new—into independence.
“Yeah, yup, I—I have a place, don’t worry. Sorry for all the trouble, fuck, I don’t even remember what—I did it again.”
Now Gaeul is holding her stomach, laughing, hitting the blanket that covers your legs and you join her. Though you might sit upright, you feel like falling over, the dizziness, Gaeul’s laugh, they make you feel like you’re still in that dream with the angel. The angel, so ethereal, but made fragile by this voice. A woman.
Suddenly, yours and Gaeul’s face are almost touching, her arms are on your shoulders, yours on her side, her petite frame is in your palm. The laughs have faded, smiles remain but you feel your heart racing. The smile fades and you’re tense. Gaeul is right there and she is so, so pretty.
“You sure you’re alright?” Gaeul asks as she sees your blush. You blush even more and avert your eyes.
“Y-yeah, thank you. You helped a lot. But—
“—are you okay too, Gaeul?”
That’s a smile full of uncertainty, a hint of anger, a glow of hurt. Gaeul’s eyes sparkle and you’d love to blow some life into them. Even better, all the love you have for her, you want to pour it into her and give her power. But no, you have no idea nor any plan to do such a thing. So it’s Gaeul who helps you out of the bed and hands you one of her sweatshirts that isn’t drenched in sweat.
“You are the one with a fever, I’m as healthy as ever!” Gaeul is so bright and her smile shines like a star. In a different universe, she is already a celebrity with a perfect red carpet smile. Fake.
“I didn’t mean that.” In a surge of confidence and worry, you reach for Gaeul’s hand and everything's in slow motion. “I-I’m scared that you’re not happy, that something isn’t right, that—Gaeul, I heard you talk to your friend and she seemed—”
“Look, I—she isn’t my friend.”
Gaeul looks at you.
“She is my girlfriend.”
Gaeul still looks at you. Now it’s your turn to fake a smile and get it over with.
...
(A/N2: Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for more chapters, though it will take time until the next release)
