#there's no excuse to have ALL your light-haired characters look like they're just bleaching and dying their hair bc of black lashes/brows

[nyxxxx-onepieces-dragun]

can i PLZ rq mikey with a (gender neutral please) reader who's like...a sunshine type but they're actually pretty depressed and just trying to make him happy? FRIENDS TO LOVERS PERHAPS?? WHERE HE TAKES THEM OUT ON A DATE TO MAKE THEM ACTUALLY HAPPY AND HE CONFESSES AND SHIT PLZZ

sorry if this is too much, have a nice day and don't forget to drink water!

Omg I actually love this Bc this is a reader I can relate with! ty for being my first request and you too drinks lot of wata!

A/N: this is quite long because I could not stop writing hehe also I was listening to "heaven and back" By chase atlantic and MWAH that song is what helped write this fic but enjoy all my lovelies! ;3

Characters: Mikey x gender neuteral! reader, mentions of other characters (maybe) angst with comfort (I'm rlly bad at giving warnings lol bc I like surprising yall heh)

Hold my hand~

you were sat in your small apartment seated by the window that was littered with falling raindrops, soft thunder ran throughout the skies as you silently drank the warm cup of tea infront of you, the weather matched your mood, you've always felt like this since before you could remember, you don't remember what triggered it but you started falling into this deep abyss of foreign emotions, lost in the darkness you found comfort in until you finally hit rock bottom. That is, until you saw him, walking through the halls of your school with a tall intimidating guy that had a black dragon tattooed on the side of his head, you initially thought he was bad news and no good due to people whispering about how the bleach blonde boy was "the invincible Mikey" and how he ran "..The most dangerous gang in Tokyo" you kept your distance for as long as you could until he one day approached you with a confused look on his puppy face. "Excuse me do you know where Takemitch Hanagaki is?" he asked his head tilted to the side "oh- uhm I don't think anyone by that name goes here- but I can help you look if you'd like" you offered with a smile, something about this boy made you feel something, his aura was inviting and welcoming, and it made you feel something you haven't felt in a long time but you couldn't pin-point what it was "Oh really? that would be nice thank you lady!" he said with a small laugh that made you smile even more, it was child-like and rang through your ears like a soothing melody. Eventually you found this Takemitchi hanagaki with a sweet looking pink haired girl, you were about to take your leave when Mikey grabbed your shoulder to stop you. "Hey don't leave yet! your my friend now and we have to hang out!" he said with a boyish smile and you turned to him with a confused expression, "you want to be my friend?" you asked with a doubtful tone, "Of course! you helped me so now I wanna be friends!" your heart fluttered at his words and you quickly smiled and nodded "Alright then we'll be friends then!" you say and before you knew it he was hugging you in a tight embrace that sent waves of emotion through you. From that point on you've been the best of friends with Mikey, you did everything together from going on rides with him on his motorcycle or going to the convenience store to get him more dorayaki. He was the light in your darkness and you wanted to make him the happiest he could be since he was practically saving you from yourself, you both laughed and smiled whenever you were with each other, but when those days were over and you were left alone in your cold bed staring up at the dark ceiling those wretched thoughts and horrible sadness filled your veins again and you began to overthink 'What if he's just trying to make a fool out of me?' 'If he knows about my real emotions he'll for sure not want to be friends with me anymore' and you swore to yourself to never let Mikey see that dark ugly side of you, even when he was sad or talked about him brother, you always were right there to comfort him, to make him smile as long as he was happy you were happy...right? "Y/N why are you sad?" Mikey asked one day as you both were walking alongside each other the sun was setting painting a beautiful array of pastel colors, you turn to Mikey with a confused expression "..huh?" "you just seem so..sad today" he says looking up at the sky, your heart rate increased you felt your mind racing with thoughts of how this could all go wrong, you started hyperventilating your smile faltering and before you could even say one word he turned to you with a deadpan expression. "Let's go on a date."

OKAY OKAY LISTEN, I have Part 2 coming up and I'll post it bc I MADE THIS TOO DAMN LONG KJSDSKDJNFJSJDK but reposts/reblogs are welcome js credit me!^^ Tags: @nakukuu @z3r0aqxa

#tokyo revengers #manjiro sano #mikey x y/n #nyx <3 #manjiro sano x reader #tokyo rev x reader #mikey x reader #nyxwrites

[ethereousdelirious]

Okay okay I rly need to get back on my queueing, but will I? Will I????

Sicktember 2023 Day 20

Prompt: Cramping Pain

Fandom: Ac.e A.ttorney

Characters: K.ristoph, Ph.oenix

Notes: The one I've been WAITING for! My favorite prompt and my favorite fill! I have been LOOKING for an excuse to hit K.ristoph with my M.egane Squishing Hammer, and at long last, the occasion is upon us

CW: emeto, slight car accident? it's not gruesome, it's just a plot contrivance

All in all the day had been remarkably peaceful. With Trucy spending the weekend at a friend's house, Phoenix had been free to engage in other pursuits; namely, getting Kristoph Gavin out of the city.

He'd been anxious of late, playing with his hair, picking off flakes of clear nail polish when he thought Phoenix wouldn't notice, flinching at loud noises.

Well.

He didn't flinch, per se. Kristoph wasn't a man who flinched. But he'd close his eyes and sigh and run his hands down the length of his hair.

Phoenix's official diagnosis was overwork, though his actual working theory remained darker, less defined.

Something.

Kristoph had always had a great 'something' lurking in his shadow, like he lived his entire life under the Sword of Damocles, just waiting for it to drop. Like he was never comfortable, though he could certainly hold the pose.

He hadn't wanted to leave the city, but Phoenix had all but forced him, employing every trick up his sleeve until Kristoph had finally lamented with a strained, ironic smile.

The subsequent misadventure had involved getting lost in the desert on cracked backroads and stumbling across a spectacular wildflower bloom.

Phoenix had never considered himself sentimental, but he'd unearthed his ancient mobile phone to take a picture on the low-res camera: Kristoph smiling in genuine wonderment at the brilliant sea of rainbow blooms before them.

And Phoenix had realized something with an unpleasant chill that counteracted the bright desert sun: he'd never seen Kristoph smile before. Not that smile, with teeth on display and light in his eyes, the smile of unburdened innocence.

They'd stopped for lunch at some tiny café attached to a decrepit motel and, after purchasing a road map for a dollar fifty, carried on.

"What's your favorite flower?" Phoenix asked, still musing on the desert blooms, and having grown tired of Kristoph's obscure German operas.

Kristoph turned the volume down. He'd been unusually quiet and stiff since lunch, and even now, he looked a little ill at ease. "Forget-me-nots," he said after a brief, contemplative silence. He glanced at Phoenix for a moment, just enough to parse his expression. "Do you know them?"

"I'm a pianist, not a botanist," Phoenix said, unashamed.

Before them, light reflected off a weathered speed limit sign. Kristoph slowed the car accordingly. "They're little blue flowers," he said, "five petals, small."

His easy expression faded and he shifted in apparent discomfort, swallowing.

Phoenix knew better by now than to ask what, if anything, was wrong, so he sat back and tried to picture forget-me-nots.

What happened next happened so quickly, that he only processed it in retrospect, when the shock had worn off.

The sight of a sun-bleached stop sign loomed in his mind's eye. Kristoph had stopped for it, and then… Then a nasty jerk forward and a terrible crunching sound, and Phoenix was afraid his head might strike the dash before his seatbelt locked up and held him in place.

A car zipped past them, so quickly that Phoenix couldn't even think to process the color or model and then they were moving again.

Swearing under his breath in German, Kristoph pulled over. There was no shoulder to speak of, just a flat expanse of rocky dirt studded here and there with mottled green brush.

"You okay?" Phoenix asked.

Kristoph let out a shaky exhale, face and knuckles the same sickly shade of yellow-white. A thin, white scar stretched over the skin on the back of his hand, but that was old, Phoenix knew. Nothing to worry about. "Fine," he muttered, sounding very unlike himself, and got out.

He stumbled, his hip hitting the door with a thump, and Phoenix unbuckled his seatbelt. The shock was wearing off slowly and he knew better than to stand right away. He moved slowly, letting the startled animal of his body adjust to the new positioning. Then he took a deep breath and got out of the car.

The heat wrapped around him in a many-armed embrace, driving a pained sigh from his lungs. The exhaust smell didn't help matters, so he made a wide arc, kicking up small dust clouds with each step.

He found Kristoph staggering forward to brace himself against the ruined trunk of his white Buick, his palm square on the shining metal.

"Kristoph?" Phoenix asked. He hadn't seen any blood, still didn't, but… something clearly wasn't right.

Only the wet, unpleasant sound of vomit hitting pavement met his ears. Kristoph didn't say a word. Didn't make a sound. Or if he did, Phoenix couldn't hear it over the thrum of the engine.

"You okay?" Phoenix asked. "Did you hit your head?"

Kristoph straightened for half a second before doubling over again, clenching his fist against the car's surface. It had to have been burning him, but he didn’t even flinch.

"Okay, hold on." Phoenix opened the back door and led Kristoph over to it so he could sit in the air conditioning without the pedals and steering wheel obstructing his ability to get comfortable. "Talk to me, Kris."

"I, ah…" Kristoph took a few shallow breaths, one arm resting gently across his stomach. "I've asked you not to call me that."

Phoenix laughed despite himself. "So no head injury, then."

Kristoph shook his head. "I think…" He gagged into his knuckles, looking utterly disgusted with himself and perhaps the whole situation. "Food poisoning."

"Ohhh." Phoenix thought for a moment. "How's the car?"

Kristoph took his glasses off and ran a hand down his face, blinking away the remnants of discomfort lining his face. "The rear bumper is pretty much kaputt— falling off." He shook himself, mouth twitching in irritation. "I don't think it's safe to drive, not all the way back to town. I'll have to have it towed."

His accent was creeping out a little, Phoenix noticed with a very misaimed frisson down his spine. It was like he didn't have the energy to school his mouth into the correct shapes to hide it, sinking back into the familiarity of a mother tongue he'd tried so hard to abandon.

Phoenix checked his cell phone. "No signal." He shifted his weight only to nearly fall backwards as Kristoph darted forward.

He crumpled at the back tire and braced his palms in the dirt and Phoenix held his hair back without a trace of disgust.

It was hard to keep the doubt at bay, however. Now that he had a moment to think, the strange quality of Kristoph's smile ran circles in his brain. Was Kristoph really never happy? Or was Phoenix reading way too much into something innocuous?

Below him, Kristoph shuddered and stilled, muffling a groan behind closed lips.

One thing was undeniably clear: he certainly wasn't happy now.

In the end, they limped the car back to the motel and the café that had caused a solid half of the mess in which they found themselves. Kristoph had to pull over once to get sick again, throwing his door open and ducking his head over the fog line while Phoenix winced and tried to focus on the latter half of Liederkreis.

Kristoph was pale and shaky when he got back in, but he kept the car between the lines, and that really was the best Phoenix could hope for without giving himself over to total delusion.

They parked up front, under the massive neon sign that might have been a work of art when it was turned on, but was nothing but an eyesore now. The gray lines spelled out "MOTEL" and traced the contours of a saguaro cactus.

"Stay here," Phoenix said, running his hand over Kristoph's brow.

Kristoph held up a finger before reaching into his breast pocket and passing Phoenix his wallet.

Since only one other car sat in the lot, Phoenix had his pick of rooms. He chose the one they'd parked in front of to make things simpler.

Once inside, Kristoph made a beeline for the bathroom, leaving Phoenix to stand there with his hands in his pockets.

"Uh, hey, Kristoph?" Phoenix gently knocked on the door. It was cracked, but the fact that Kristoph had shut it all meant he likely didn't want to be disturbed. "Can I come in?"

"...I'd rather you didn't."

"Why's that?" It couldn't have been that gruesome.

Kristoph was quiet for a long time, so long that Phoenix began to fear that he'd passed out. But when Phoenix shifted his weight and reached out, the answer came. Quiet, abashed, the answer came: "I'd really rather no one saw… this. Me."

"Aw, Kris." Phoenix leaned against the doorframe, a sympathetic smile on his lips. Kristoph always had been preoccupied with appearances, but he hadn't known just how deep the fixation went. "You know I've seen worse. Hell, I've been worse."

It was true. Phoenix hadn't handled the loss of his badge well and Kristoph, being the nearest sympathetic ear, had borne the brunt of it. They'd barely known each other and Phoenix had leaked snot and tears all over the front of his suit like he'd regressed back to college age.

"C'mon, somebody has to hold all that hair back," Phoenix said.

The door eased open with a creak, revealing a deathly pale Kristoph propped up against the edge of the yellowed bathtub. His hair had come unstyled in spectacular fashion, hanging in golden ropes around his shoulders and in his face.

"Handsome as ever," Phoenix said, kneeling in front of him. At Kristoph's reproachful look, he put up his hands in surrender. "Really!"

"Now's really not the time for jokes, Wright," Kristoph muttered. A tremor ran through him and he pulled his arms in and swallowed.

"Ah, now I know I messed up." Phoenix scooted closer and began to brush Kristoph's hair out with his fingers, pulling it back from his face. "You only call me 'Wright' when you're irritated with me."

"I'm not irritated with you," Kristoph said slowly, drawing in erratic breaths between words, "Phoenix."

He still shivered persistently, growing somehow paler with every passing moment. Only the washed-out olive undertone of his skin remained, tinting his face a nauseated green.

Phoenix shifted his attention, digging in his pockets for one of Trucy's hair ties. He always had one or two floating around his person; she never remembered to grab one on her way out the door and inevitably wanted one when they were out.

Aha. There it was, a magenta scrunchie zipped inside his inner hoodie pocket. Kristoph's breath hitched and Phoenix got a move on, hastily pulling Kristoph's hair into a low ponytail. He finished just as Kristoph made a lunge for the toilet, spitting bile and not much else into the water.

When he was done, he stayed curled in on himself. Shivering. Forehead pressed to the toilet seat.

Phoenix put a hand on his back. "Hey, Kris?" Testing the waters. When no response came, he began to stroke Kristoph's back. He was a little warm against Phoenix's hand, probably running a fever. "Does your stomach hurt?"

Kristoph nodded as much as his cramped positioning would allow.

"Let's get you into bed, okay?"

Kristoph said nothing, but his shoulders shook, and panic struck Phoenix like a lightning bolt before he realized that Kristoph was laughing. It looked like it hurt,

“Kris? I’m gonna help you stand, okay?”

The laughter petered out when Phoenix braced his hands under Kristoph’s armpits, died entirely when he got to his feet. Kristoph steadied himself on the wall. Pale, sweaty, but stable, one hand clutching his stomach. His glasses had slid to the tip of his nose, and he squinted at Phoenix even across the tiny expanse of the bathroom. “Sorry,” he breathed, then winced and held himself tighter.

“Hey, better laughing than crying.” Phoenix hooked an arm around Kristoph’s shoulders. “C’mon, lie down. I’ll see about getting a heating pad for your stomach.”

He helped Kristoph out of his layers, leaving him in briefs and a fitted T-shirt. The fine weave was soft under Phoenix’s fingertips and he let his hand linger, tracing small circles over Kristoph’s sore stomach. Try as he might, he couldn’t help but admire the view. Kristoph, it seemed, simply could not be made to unravel. Even now, sick as a dog and one layer from naked, his commanding presence filled the room. He didn’t blush or avert his eyes, didn’t cross his arms to cover himself. Like diamonds, unbreakable.

Phoenix had never really had an eye for nice things. When Kristoph’s lionesque assurance pushed up against him, he pushed back. Abandoning his efforts to be covert, he looked languidly up and down the length of Kristoph’s trembling body and whistled.

Kristoph looked at him askance but said nothing, eyes flashing behind his glasses.

“Sorry,” Phoenix said calmly, “I couldn’t help but admire the way you managed to find briefs and a shirt in matching shades of white. How’d you pull that off?”

Kristoph curled up on his side on top of the covers. “Trade secret,” he said softly. “You were just leaving, weren’t you?”

���Point taken.” Phoenix retrieved the trash can from under the small wooden desk that served as a TV stand. He set it on the floor on Kristoph’s side of the bed and paused. The tremors wracking Kristoph’s body could have been from the fever or from the pain he was in but regardless, it was hard to watch Kristoph shake like that. This level of vulnerability looked wrong on him. “If you’re gonna hurl, aim for the trash can, okay?”

“If you’re going to go,” Kristoph said pointedly.

“Alright, alright, understood.” And Phoenix went out, blinking in the sunlight.

#ethereous writes #sicktember 2023 #emeto

[jgnico]

preach to your post about gojo's portrayal within the fandom and his mischaracterization when shipping him with other characters!! i'm white myself so i don't think it's my place to speak about this, just going to add my my thoughts because your text brushed on this as well and hope it's not offensive somehow because it isn't my intention but it also bothers me quite a bit that fanartists usually draw anime characters as white by default (or at least the artists I have been in contact with that have a more realistic art style). especially when they don't have dark hair, dark eyes or those japanese/asian common characteristics, that's kind of used as an excuse to not draw these characters with the traces from their actual ethnicity. as if these stories aren't fictional and they can't have made up features or ones that just simply aren't as common. and gojo is one of the characters where this is really evident, even nanami who gets pictured this way solely because he has blonde hair. do you think, for example, the way noses or faces are drawn in manga and anime is a reason for typically white features in fanart? (genuine question) in general I think only black anime characters tend to have very obvious features and the line between asian, white or any other categories also tends to get blurry. but most of us also aren't kids and we understand (or should) the context of these stories and the identity of these characters. and in jjk we see very prominent characteristics of the japanese culture in every character so there doesn't seem to be an excuse, really. so yeah would love to hear what your thoughts are

So there's two things that I just wanna throw out there at the beginning of this answer.

1. Of the 7 billion people in the world, 2/3rds of our global population live in Asian countries.

2. There are around 125.8 million people in Japan alone, which puts it in 11th place out of 195 total countries when it comes to population size.

Asian features are in no way uncommon. People just tend to stick to the features that they're familiar and comfortable with when they draw and everyone has their own personal art-style. Manga and anime also has a very specific art-style, but you can almost always tell when a character isn't Japanese or at least mixed. The mangaka will make it pretty obvious, so genuinely, no, its not a matter of lines being blurred between white and Asian characters when it comes to features.

African Americans being portrayed in anime and manga is also a pretty sore subject because of this. We tend to have a lot of harmful stereotypes and depictions perpetuated when it comes to our ethnic characteristics (big lips, unflattering brow-lines, wide noses, etc) that only just recently started being combatted by more positive and genuine approaches to conveying our features in that medium. Bleach actually did a fantastic job of this, but if you want to stick to JJK, I'd urge you to compare Yuuta's bully in the first chapter of Volume 0 to what Yaga and Hakari look like in Gege's later work. They're all Black (or at least Blasian) characters, but Gege's original drawings of those kind of features weren't kind or tactful.

Another thing that poses a big issue is colorism. Historically (and currently) almost every poc and non-poc community that I know of has an issue with this because the world spent such a long time being told that lighter skin is more desirable. For white dominated countries, this often translates to white features (straight hair, light eyes, light skin) being considered more attractive than poc features, but I know that the Asian community goes through this kind of bias as well.

Going back to JJK, Nanami is part-Danish (1/4ths) so he'll obviously have different features than characters like Gojo or Geto, and if you actually look for those features, they're easy to spot.

Nanami has a wide and prominent browbone that extends out from his face before dipping into a long and straight nose ridge. He also has a more square jawline and a rounded chin that doesn't end in any kind of point. These are features that are more common among white people, as most Asian faces tend to be smaller and rounder.

In comparison, Gojo has a pointed chin and an angled jawline, which gives him a shorter, more compact face. His nose is also shorter and smaller (a button nose, if you will) with a browbone that curves softly into his nose ridge instead of angling out from his face.

For Geto, he still keeps that soft brow and short nose, but his face is wider and his eyes are have a more hooded almond shape, which gives me the impression that he has a mixed (most likely Chinese) ancestry. His face is also longer than Gojo's, but shorter than Nanami's with an angled jaw and a soft, rounded chin that isn't as square as Nanami's or as pointed as Gojo's.

All that being said, if artists are trying to portray the characters respectfully and accurately, even within their own art-style, these are the features that they'd want to pay attention to. It doesn't all just boil down to skin tone, which is something that they should be depicting accurately anyways.

Note: Asian people will have a warmer skin tone with a red or yellow undertone, while white people will have a cooler skin tone with a pink or neutral undertone.

If an artist is having a difficult time with portraying these differences in features in more realistic art-styles, then I'd suggest that they look into resources for drawing Asian (specifically East Asian) people and incorporate that into how they approach making fanart.

#thank you for the asks #sorry if this came off as rude or anything #i know that making fan content isnt easy #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #answers