Latest Posts by iheartbillkaulitz - Page 2

screaming crying rn!!!!

Anyways I feel like not enough people talk about Abbacchio and Narancia's relationship. Of course I think that Narancia would have reacted the same way if someone else from the group had died instead of Abba, but when he goes "we can't just leave him here" I just SOB EVERYTIME

And I like to imagine that their bond must've been much deeper than it's shown. Not necessarily with Abbacchio as a father figure, more like an older brother. I think that in general Abbacchio was much more loved than he thought by everyone

HAGAHSHW HELP ME I LOVE THIS

If I'm allowed to request a scenario where the bucci gang meet a new recruit who literally looks sweet/innocent but is chaotic beyond belief. I just re-watched asobi asobase and in one of the episodes where hanako sets fire to the restaurant by accident. But in this case the new recruit, whose stand is similar to avdol(but with blue flames, cuz blue=hotter more dangerous fire) does it on purpose while looking the boys dead in the eyes with a 'innocent' smile on her face. It'd be even more crazy if by the time police, firefighters, ambulances arrive she just cancels out the flames entirely and the only thing burned in the restaurant are the curtains she set fire. And all this cuz abbacchio decided to be an asshole and tried to do her dirty like giorno. Lesson learned, latom😔😔🙏🏿🙏🏿.

Sorry I just thought this would be funny. Bye

Masterlist here <3

Hello! Sorry for the extremely late reply, I hope you enjoy this <3

Lesson learned, latom

The restaurant was lively, filled with the clinking of silverware and the low hum of conversation. Bucciarati’s team occupied a corner booth, their usual energy simmering beneath the surface.

And at the center of it all sat their newest recruit—sweet, polite, and seemingly harmless.

She smiled as she stirred her drink, the very picture of innocence. But underneath that facade lurked something far more dangerous.

And Abbacchio? He had no idea what was coming.

He had made his distaste for her obvious from the start, treating her with the same level of hostility he once reserved for Giorno. Every snide remark, every passive aggressive comment, every pointed glare.. it all led to this moment.

The moment she tilted her head, smiled sweetly, and set fire to the restaurant.

The flames roared to life, an unnatural blue that burned hotter than anything natural. It licked at the walls, raced up the ceiling, and bathed the entire restaurant in a deadly glow. The air shimmered with heat, screams erupted around them, and chaos exploded as civilians scrambled to escape.

And there she stood. Completely still. Watching Abbacchio.

Smiling.

Her expression never wavered, not even as the fire raged around them. She leaned slightly forward, resting her chin on her hands.

“Oops,” she said, voice light, playful. “My bad.”

Abbacchio’s breath caught in his throat.

The others?

Mista pushed back from the table so fast his chair nearly toppled over.

Narancia’s jaw had practically hit the floor.

Fugo looked seconds away from having a nervous breakdown.

Giorno, on the other hand, was unfazed. He merely sipped his tea, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.

Bucciarati pinched the bridge of his nose, already exhausted.

And Abbacchio?

His soul was ascending.

“What. The. Fuck” he rasped.

Outside, the sirens blared. The sound of approaching fire trucks and police cars filled the air. The restaurant doors burst open, and emergency responders stormed in—only to find the blue flames vanishing in an instant.

One second, the fire raged. The next, it was gone.

The restaurant stood untouched, completely unharmed.

Except for the curtains. They were still burning.

The firefighters stood frozen in place confused as hekl.

The officers exchanged glances, unsure of what to even report.

And Abbacchio? He turned his wide, haunted eyes back to the new recruit, who was now happily sipping her drink. As if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t just committed arson with intent and gotten away with it like it was a casual tuesday.

Let me know if you’d like anything tweaked <3

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad you can request it if my requests are open!

real asf i’m so tired of ts

Friends? Again? Nah.

And If I could go back to the day we met, I’m sorry, but I would turn around and walk the other way.

SCREAMING WITH JOY

Abbacchio Week 2025 is coming

Abbacchio fans, it's once again time to celebrate our favorite moody mafioso! Beginning March 19th and ending with Leone's birthday on the 25th, we'll have a week of art, fics, cosplay, crafts, any sort of fan creation is welcome! Join the fun, and use #abbacchioweek2025 or tag the blog with your submissions. Happy brainstorming, and we'll see you in March!

ABBACCHIO MY SWEETHEART UFH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH☹️☹️☹️☹️

I see requests are open 🙏 and first of all, omfg I absolutely loved your response to my nonchalant reader confessing to Bucci gang+Trish 😭❤️ tho it left me wondering what if 👀👀 nonchalant reader is not taken seriously, so they double down with their confession by doing the exact opposite of sth casual because now they do something more elaborated, extravagant or/and even obnoxious (like fancy dinner, a big boquet of flowers, heartshaped chocolates or maybe even balloons) to make their point clear and sure to get across this time. Like !!! I meant it, I am in love with you!! but this time doing the grand gestures gets Nonchalant Reader flustered when repeating outloud that they love them

Masterlist here <3

I love this so much!!! I seriously had so much fun writing this and I hope you enjoy <3

Og post of the confession here <3

Bruno Bucciarati

The first confession over breakfast had left Bruno intrigued, but you could tell he thought you were joking. So now, you’re sitting across from him at a ridiculously fancy restaurant with chandeliers, classical music, and a waiter in a tux pouring sparkling water into crystal glasses

Bruno, ever composed, places his napkin neatly in his lap, a polite smile on his lips. “This is… unexpected,” he says smoothly. “Special occasion?”

You fidget with the edge of your menu, trying to maintain your nonchalant facade despite your flushed cheeks. “Yeah. I, uh… wanted to clarify something.”

He tilts his head, curious. “Oh?”

The words catch in your throat, but you force them out anyway. “I meant what I said. I’m… I’m in love with you.”

Bruno leans forward slightly, eyes softening, but your nerves hit like a freight train. “Like, actually,” you blurt, voice a bit too loud. “Not some breakfast joke. I got a whole table reservation and—”

The waiter appears, placing an elaborate bouquet of roses between you. You stare at it in mortification

Bruno hides a smile behind his hand. “I’m beginning to see that.”

“I panicked!” you hiss

Bruno’s laugh is warm, genuine. “You’re charming when you panic, did you know that?”

Narancia Ghirga

The first confession during video games had left Narancia completely flustered, but clearly, he thought you were messing with him. Time to up the ante

So now, you’re standing outside his window with a boombox blaring cheesy love songs, dressed way too nicely for no reason

Narancia sticks his head out the window, eyes wide. “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

“I LOVE YOU!” you yell over the music, face burning but fully committed. “LIKE, FOR REAL!”

The neighbors are already peeking through their windows, and you’re regretting every second of this decision

Narancia bursts out laughing, leaning on the windowsill. “Wait, you’re serious?! Oh my god, you’re insane!”

“I KNOW!” you yell back, hands shaking as you fumble with the boombox to turn it off. “But I meant it!”

He grins so wide it makes your embarrassment almost worth it. “You didn’t have to do all this, dummy. I already like you too.”

You freeze. “…Oh?”

“Yeah! But this was awesome.”

Guido Mista

The kitchen confession had gone over way too casually. So now, you’ve decided to go full drama mode—heart-shaped chocolates, flowers, and a cheesy handwritten card are all set on the table

Mista walks in, blinks at the sight, then bursts out laughing. “What’s all this? Valentine’s Day come early?”

You groan, already regretting this. “I’m trying to be serious here, Mista.”

He grins, picking up the card. “Aw, you even wrote me a love letter?” He reads it aloud with way too much enthusiasm

You slap a hand over your face, cheeks burning. “Okay, okay, stop.”

Mista cackles, setting the card down. “You’re so flustered, it’s kinda cute.”

You glare at him. “I’m in love with you, idiot.”

His teasing expression falters for just a second before softening. “Yeah, I know,” he says, smiling warmly now. “I just wanted to see you get all worked up first.”

Fugo Pannacotta

Fugo’s intense logical nature means your first confession barely registered. So now, you’re standing in front of him holding a massive bouquet of flowers, wearing an outfit that makes you feel like an awkward rom-com protagonist

He blinks at you, visibly confused. “What is this?”

“I’m clarifying my previous statement,” you say stiffly, shoving the bouquet toward him

He cautiously takes it, looking between you and the flowers like you’ve just handed him a bomb. “Why?”

“Because,” you mutter, shifting on your feet, “you didn’t believe me. I meant it, Fugo. I’m in love with you.”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you force the words out. Fugo’s expression shifts from confusion to realization, and his ears turn bright red

“You didn’t need to do all this,” he mutters, looking away

“Well, you weren’t getting it,” you snap, embarrassed

He glances back at you, a rare, shy smile tugging at his lips. “I get it now.”

Giorno Giovanna

The garden confession had been brushed off too smoothly, so now you’ve set up a full candlelit dinner. Roses, soft music, and a carefully plated meal—the works

Giorno enters, visibly surprised but composed as ever. “This is… elaborate.”

“Yeah, well,” you mumble, pulling out a chair for him. “Needed to make a point.”

He sits gracefully, watching you with amusement. “And that point is?”

You sit across from him, heart racing. “I love you,” you say, voice cracking slightly. “Like, really love you. Not just some random garden comment.”

His eyes soften, and a small smile graces his lips. “You’ve certainly made your feelings clear.”

“Good,” you mutter, poking at your food

He reaches across the table, taking your hand gently. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “I was never confused—just waiting for you to realize how much this means to you.”

Leone Abbacchio

After your nonchalant confession was brushed off, you decided to go all out. Now, you’re standing awkwardly in front of Abbacchio with a gift bag and a bottle of expensive wine

He raises an eyebrow. “What’s this supposed to be?”

“A… grand gesture,” you say, voice cracking slightly

He crosses his arms, unimpressed. “You feeling okay?”

“No,” you grumble. “This is stupid. I don’t know why I—whatever, here.” You shove the gift bag toward him

He takes it reluctantly, pulling out a small, heart-shaped card. The corner of his mouth twitches. “Seriously?”

“I love you,” you blurt out, feeling like you might actually combust. “Happy now?”

He stares at you for a long moment before letting out a low chuckle. “You really went all out, huh?”

“I panicked,” you admit miserably

“Well,” he says, smirking, “I guess I’m flattered.”

Trish Una

After your casual confession, Trish had brushed it off with disbelief. So now, you’re standing outside her dressing room with balloons, chocolates, and a handwritten love letter

She opens the door, takes one look at you, and blinks. “What is this?”

“I’m making a point,” you mutter, cheeks burning. “I meant it. I’m in love with you.”

Trish raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You’re blushing.”

“I know,” you groan. “This is embarrassing, okay?”

She crosses her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “So you really love me, huh?”

“Yes!” you snap. “God, don’t make me say it again.”

Trish laughs, stepping closer. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect this. But I guess it’s kind of cute.”

“Great. Glad you’re entertained.”

She grins. “I’ll take the chocolates, though. And maybe we can talk about this over dinner—my treat.”

If you’d like any tweaks let me know! I hope you enjoyed this cz I found it so cute <3

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad you can request it if my requests are open!

🚨 We Need Your Kindness to Survive 🚨

Hello, My name is Mosab Elderawi, and I live in Gaza with my family. Life here has become harder than I ever imagined, and I’m writing this with hope in my heart that you might hear our story.

The ongoing war has devastated my family. We’ve lost 25 family members—each one a beloved part of our lives, taken too soon. I miss them deeply—their laughter, their presence, their love. Every day is a reminder of this unimaginable loss.

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We are now facing daily challenges to survive—things that most people take for granted, like food, clean water, and a safe place to sleep. The harsh realities of life here have replaced our dreams with the constant fight for survival.

Our Current Situation:

💔 Lost Stability: The war has left us without work or a stable source of income. 🍞 Basic Needs: Food and water are becoming harder to afford with rising prices and scarce resources. 📚 Dreams on Hold: Like so many here, my family’s dreams have been replaced by the need to simply survive. 😢 Unimaginable Loss: Losing 25 loved ones has left a void that can never be filled.

How You Can Help:

I’m sharing our story with the hope that someone out there might care. Even $5 can make a big difference for us, and if you’re unable to donate, just reblogging this post can help spread the word.

Your kindness, no matter how small, is something we’ll never forget.

What This Means to Us:

Your support is not about changing our entire situation—it’s about giving us a little relief, a little hope, and a way to keep going. We are not asking for much, and we understand if you can’t donate. Sharing our story is just as valuable to us as a donation.

Thank you for reading this far. It means the world to us to know that someone is listening. Your kindness gives us strength and helps us believe in a better tomorrow.

With all our gratitude, Mosab Elderawi and Family ❤️

✅️ Vetted by ✅️

@gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #309 )✅️

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Donate to Help me saving who's left of my family, organized by Mosab Derawi

Hello Everyone, I am Mosab Suleiman Al Derawi, 28 years old, my wife Nadine Adel A… Mosab Derawi needs your support for Help me saving who's

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WAHHH THIS WAS SO CUTEEE☹️☹️

✧A Dance of Synchrony and Solitude✧

♡Neuvillette x fem!reader♡

11:37pm-

Loud.

That's what it was. It was overwhelmingly loud and crowded. So many people, and yet here you were– standing alone by the bar with a glass of half-drank champagne in hand and anxiously observing.

You had been invited to Fontaine's grand ball only because Lady Furina insisted you come. For context, you had been enjoying your afternoon in the city when you spotted Lady Furina whining about something. Curious, you had gone over to see what the fuss was. After a bit of eavesdropping, you had discovered that Furina had left her money at home, therefore being unable to pay for her macaroni. You kindly paid for her and that's when she insisted you come to the ball later that night, so here you are.

You had been scanning the crowd all evening and still couldn't find Furina anywhere. You felt so out of place-- so awkward in this pompous event. Nobles, politicians, and other upperclassmen were present and you were but a mere botanist.

Where is she..? you couldn't help but ask yourself in your mind. It occurred to you that she was probably dealing with adoring fans in some other room of the grand estate.

With a sigh, you begrudgingly forced yourself to push off of the bar and leave your drink there as you went to find Furina. You awkwardly shuffled through people, muttering small, half-hearted apologies and mumbling "excuse me" a few times.

After successfully pushing through the mass of people and making it closer to the stage where a live orchestra was playing, you let out a sigh of relief.

Okay, you're away from people, you have a good view of the room, if you don't find her, the door is just to your left... you thought to yourself, looking around and over people's heads.

No sign of her anywhere...

Sighing once more, you decided to turn for the door when you spotted a figure with white hair and dark blue attire. Ah, that must be Furina!

With a wave of relief you pushed through people once more. You didn't exactly want to leave--this was a grand event. You were just lonely.

You squeezed through people who were rushing to approach the white-haired figure that was calmly walking away. The clamors of the crowd grew louder the closer you got to the figure, making you all the more anxious to reach Furina.

However, just as you were about to call her name, someone shoved you with an aggravated huff, causing you to collide with the person you had been following. Well-- who you thought you were.

You collided head-on with the person, quickly finding that that person was quite tall with a wide chest. You let out a small "oof" as your face was pushed into their chest before you took an unsteady step back.

A hand that was undoubtedly larger than your own swiftly and firmly caught you, holding up your back, pulling you back to your feet.

"Ah-- my apologies. Are you alright?" That was most definitely not Furina. Furina didn't have a deep velvety voice like that.

You were hoping that the person you had just bumped into was, in fact, not who you now thought it was. However, that voice was unmistakably known throughout all of Fontaine. Catching sight of the figure only confirmed your suspicions.

The Chief Justice, Neuvillette, was standing above you, lilac eyes staring at your own with a much friendlier gaze than that ever seen in court. Of course-- he still had that somewhat apathetic look to him. It was simply part of his character.

It suddenly occurred to you that you were staring at him like an idiot and had not answered his question yet. You cleared your throat and took a step back, keeping your head down as you sputtered out a response.

"Oh-- um...yes, I'm fine... thank you..!" You muttered awkwardly, tripping over your words. You could practically feel his sharp gaze directed towards you. You glanced up at him again before looking away into the crowd in the hopes that Furina would be here to save you from your embarrassment. The only thing you were met with were the jealous and envious stares of the citizens and elites around you.

Neuvillette noticed your anxious gaze and let out a small hum, acknowledging the fact that you were uncomfortable in the "spotlight," so to speak. He leaned down to speak to you a bit more privately.

"I assume you would like to stay out of the eyes of the public..? There's a private room here," he said quietly as your head snapped in his direction, staring at him in bewilderment. You hadn't expected him to get so close all of a sudden, especially after bumping into him.

You spoke with uncertainty, your response somewhat forced as you said, "I...wouldn't mind that... can we go now, please..?" You asked, feeling your stomach twist and your heart leap to your throat. There were so many people here and they all seemed to hate you.

Neuvillette, though bad at dealing with mortal emotions, understood that this entire ordeal was rather...overwhelming for you. He gently took your hand and used the other to wave over a few members of the Marechaussee Phantom, giving them a directive to keep the guests away as he softly tugged on your arm and led you away.

You were caught off guard by the sudden movement but followed nonetheless.

A few melusines kept the people at bay as you and Neuvillette disappeared into a dark hallway before turning into a room lit by candles and a fireplace. In one of the loft chairs you spotted another figure with white hair and blue clothing. Furina turned to see who had entered the room and her expression went from suspicion to delight.

"My, my, (Name)!! Neuvillette, how kind of you to bring me our esteemed guest!" She exclaimed with excitement, standing up and approaching you with a smile before hugging you. As she pulled back, she kept her hands on your shoulders and spoke to Neuvillette.

"This is the one I was telling you about! This lovely lady paid for my lunch, so the least I could do was invite such a kindhearted person to our ball."

Neuvillette nodded and hummed, his hand on the small of your back as you stood still, smiling awkwardly at Furina.

"Ah, yes...well, I'm here," you said with an uncertain chuckle. You were never one to be so awkward, but you had just met the Furina this afternoon, and literally had your face in the Chief Justice's chest but a few moments ago.

"(Name)..." Neuvillette repeated your name as if trying to recall if he had heard of you before. With a sigh, he then spoke again, this time, to you.

"Please-- have a seat. I insist," he said, using a hand to gesture to one of the sofas in the luxurious room. Furina nodded and smiled happily as she took your wrist and pulled you over to the sofa, sitting down and pulling you with her.

"Oh, (Name), I'm so happy that you showed up! When I didn't see you, I thought I might've been a little too pushy, but you're here, and that's what matters!"

You nodded along what Furina was saying, taking note of how Neuvillette took a seat across from the two of you and stared at you specifically.

While half-heartedly listening to Furina's ramblings to you, Neuvillette studied you. He felt as if he had seen you somewhere before..perhaps he had seen you in the paper once, or simply recognized you from a walk. Who were you, exactly?

-----------------------12:56am----------------------

After a much-needed break, you followed Neuvillette and Furina back out towards the ball. They said that you could stay with them for the remainder of the night, and for that you were thankful.

For Neuvillette, it was a convenience. He got to learn more about who this mystery woman was and what she was doing here. He wanted to know why Furina had taken such a strong liking to you, and this was exactly how he was going to do it.

Furina dragged you out onto the dance floor as she giggled mischievously. The smooth sounds of the violin and the deep notes of the piano along with the sounds of chellos, trumpets, and other various instruments of the orchestra reverberated through the ballroom as Furina guided you through the movements of the dance.

"No, no-- you're doing it all wrong! Here, it's like this, and then this, and then you kinda go like this..." Furina said, teaching you to dance which left you completely and utterly befuddled. What was all this for?

Furina, on the other hand, was quite happy with how things were going. She had a plan-- a good one. In order for this to work, she needed you to at least know the basics of dancing. If you tripped up, that was fine. As a matter of fact, it was even better.

Then, the slow dance came on.

Marvelous! I'm such a genius. She thought to herself as she glanced over at Neuvillette. She prompted him to come over, as if she had something she had to tell him.

When he stepped onto the floor, Furina pulled him towards you and spoke hastily. "My apologies, I have business with the governor. Neuvillette, be a gentleman and finish the dance with our esteemed guest, will you? It's rude to keep someone waiting, after all!"

Without waiting for a response, she rushed off through the crowd of people, leaving the two of you hand-in-hand.

Neuvillette was stunned for a moment, staring blankly at the space where Furina had run off to. He looked dumbfounded and felt just as perplexed as he appeared.

After a few seconds, he snapped out of it and looked at you apologetically, not knowing what to make of the situation. Luckily, he wasn't the only one feeling awkward. You just stood there, vision zeroed in on where he was holding both of your hands with his own.

You glanced up at him, hoping to be able to excuse yourself, but before you could get the words out of your already open mouth, the slow dance started up and people flooded into the dance floor.

The two of you looked rather surprised as people began to dance. This was when you realized that the only way to get out of this without causing a scene was to join the fray. Only one problem though-- you didn't know this waltz. Or any, for that matter. From the looks of it, Neuvillette seemed just as lost as you were. He too had no clue how to dance.

Seeing as how Neuvillette was seemingly stuck in one place, you took the initiative to pull him along with the rest of the guests, trying to find the correct timing. Luckily, the slow dance was just that: slow.

You attempted to spin with him, dragging him along with you as you copied the movements of other patrons. It didn't take long for Neuvillette to realize what you were doing and put in some effort as well. The two of you clumsily followed in the footsteps of the strangers who were your examples.

Little apologies were heard only between the two of you as you accidentally stepped on one another and maybe spun a little bit too fast.

While Neuvillette was typically a knowledgeable and collected man, he had no clue how to act in such an abrupt situation. He was, quite literally, dragged into this. It was so...out of the ordinary for him. He didn't know how to feel about it, but that wasn't a surprise. He struggled to comprehend human emotions. Give him a break, he's trying his best.

The dance ended just as quickly as it had started, and the two of you were both left rather embarrassed and befuddled. It was quiet, and you really didn't feel like speaking up. You had no idea what to say! Fortunately for you, Neuvillette stepped up this time and took the initiative to speak first.

"I apologize, I have never engaged in a waltz before..." he said rather quietly, hoping that you would be the only one to hear. His gaze was averted as he continued on. "I haven't had the time to learn before. Please excuse my profuse clumsiness."

Wow. Even while embarrassed, he still managed to be so gentlemanly and professional in his apology. What a cutie patootie.

You smiled gently at him and let out a huff of amusement as you replied. "No, no, it's more than okay. I had no clue what I was doing either," you stated honestly. It then occurred to you that the two of you were the only ones left on the dance floor and people were staring.

With a flushed face, you quickly scurried off of the floor, dragging Neuvillette along with you. After all, it's rude to just run off mid-conversation.

You towed the two of you along to the balcony of the grand estate, closing the large solarium doors behind you as you did so. You breathed out a sigh of relief and walked over to the edge of the balcony, happy to get both some fresh air and some space. Neuvillette was just as pleased.

His slow and hesitant steps were heard from behind you as he approached the railing of the balcony, albeit a few feet away from you as he placed his hands on it.

Silence ensued. The only noise was the muffled chatter of guests inside and the soft shuffling of leaves as they swayed in the breeze. It was nice...

After a good thirty seconds or so of complete, comfortable silence, you spoke up. "That was...unexpected. I think we were played," you stated with a huff of amusement.

Neuvillette looked over at you through the corner of his eye, curiosity and a hint of amusement evident in his gaze.

"Indeed... I do think that Lady Furina has decided to play cupid tonight," he said with a more relaxed tone. He had never had an encounter like this before, and the way the conversation so casually continued, even on such a bizarre topic, was refreshing to him. When he said that he was going to learn more about this "mystery woman," he was not expecting this...

You nodded and gave a long hum of agreement as you looked over the mountainous terrain of Fontaine. It was a clear night, and the moon was bright enough to illuminated both of your faces. Neuvillette looked rather ethereal with how the moonlight accentuated his pale complexion. However, if you were to ask him, he would feel the same about how the soft light bounced off of your skin.

He, who was inhuman in nature and struggled to comprehend the emotions of said humans, found himself rather...at peace. When was the last time he had felt as if he belonged? Especially within the presence of a mortal. Far too long, he concluded.

You spoke up once more, bringing Neuvillette back to reality and away from his desk thoughts. "Furina most definitely set us up...but I wonder why," you mused, the perplexion from the situation clear on your face.

Neuvillette hummed before speaking again, his low voice now holding a tone of curiosity within it. "Well, I do trust her judgement, to some extent... she has good intentions. She most always does, but I cannot help but question her choices from time to time," he admitted. You let out a small chuckle which, to his surprise, made him feel a tinge of happiness. How peculiar...

You let out a content sigh as a smile graced your lips. You glanced over at him for a moment with an amused smile, unaware of Neuvillette's pride in making you laugh as you proposed something. "This was fun... I think Furina knew what she was doing," you said as you turned your head back to the green landscape. "If you'd like, or if you have time, I'd like to meet up for lunch sometime. Maybe we can learn to dance properly for the next time an event comes up," you joked lightheartedly.

Neuvillette smiled softly and glanced over at you. How can a man, so infamous for being a cold, strict judge, look so soft and compassionate so suddenly?

"I do believe I would like that..."

-----------------------9:33am----------------------

The memories of the ball were fresh in your mind, even as you sorted through the small jars of herbs within your apothecary. As people entered your shop and browsed your wares, you noticed that a few stopped to stare and whisper.

That doesn't happen...

Eventually, after the fifth person stopped to chat with their friend, you turned around and gave them a confused yet somewhat annoyed expression as you crossed your arms.

"Is there something on my face? People have been whispering all day," you said with irritation clear in your tone of voice.

The people, rightfully surprised, looked at you with astonishment. After a few seconds of silence and wide-eyed staring, one of them spoke up.

"You don't know? People heard about last night," they said, pulling out a newspaper. You recognized it as The Steambird, the local newspaper of Fontaine.

Taking the newspaper with a small "thank you," you read over the front page. You were astonished to see a photo of you and Neuvillette on the balcony from last night. The headline you read made your face heat up in embarrassment.

"Monsieur Neuvillette and Local Botanist Mademoiselle (Name) seen at Fontaine's Grand Ball--Read for More Information!"

Handing the newspaper back to the pair that were in your shop, you thanked them quietly, even through your rather dazed state. They then made their purchases and left with a polite wave.

Not soon after, when you were checking your mail, you found an envelope. You hummed and looked at it with curiosity. It looked important. Wax seal on it, the emblem of Fontaine-- the whole nine yards.

Bringing it inside and sitting at your desk in the back, you opened it. You still had no clue who it was from, but you could tell that it was something from the Fontainian government with how regal and professional it looked. Not at all nerve-wracking. Last time you checked, you had paid all your taxes in time.

Upon opening it, you found polaroid photos of you and Neuvillette, again at the balcony, but from different angles and at different times. Shocked, you searched through them for any clues on why you were sent a legal document with pictures of the brief interaction you had with Neuvillette last night.

There was a small note inside with very elegant handwriting on it. You mentally gave appreciation to the person who wrote it. The note read, "Dearest (Name), I hope you enjoy your memorabilia from your first night at Fontaine's Grand Ball! Hosted by yours truly, of course. Please feel free to drop by any time for lunch! And please, let me pay. You covered last time, so I'll do it now! Consider this your free-lunch-with-Furina coupon. Hope to see you soon! -With love, Furina"

Ah...that made sense. Looking at the bottom, you found another small note.

"Also, I didn't take these pictures-- Charlotte did ♡"

If you were to guess, you'd say that Charlotte also wrote the story that just so happened to make the front page. Well, this will probably be good for business. Unless, of course, some crazy Neuvillette fanatic comes looking for you because you got attention for it...

With a sigh, you set the envelope down, and just as you did, what looked like a ticket fell out. Picking it up, you noticed that it was a reservation. A reservation for a very prestigious restaurant known here in Fontaine. A reservation for two, it said, and your name was listed alongside Neuvillette's. How convenient that it was listed as a couples' night.

Furina could be so mischievous at times, truly.

But oh well-- you would probably never forgive yourself if you didn't take such an opportunity. ♡

𓋼𓍊Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this. I've been getting back into writing, and have had this one in my drafts for a while. I haven't posted since 2024, so this is my first post of the year! Yes, late, I know, but hey-- I'm a busy gal. Please let me know if you'd like a continuation of this, and requests are always open! 𓍊𓋼

NO ABBACCHIO PLEASE NO NO STOP NO i scream as i roll around in despair

i can’t do this anymore bro☹️🙏

just thought i had to share!!! 💜 all creds to the person that posted this on tiktok🤗🤗

apologies to all but i just busted

i fear i have consumed all of the Abbacchio x fem reader content that exists. I cannot find anything else. I’m going insane i need more content of that fine ass man idec anymore he’s so 🤤🤤 and i can’t even watch edits of him cuz tiktok is GONE. HELP ME AUGHHH

I LOVE ABBACCHIO SO MUCH AAGAGAG

hiii!!! could i perchance ask for Bucci gang hcs of them finding reader in the bathroom at like 2am with a full face of vkei makeup ^^ if it’s not too much to ask !!!

p.s. i srs love your work so much <33

Masterlist here <3

I am soso glad you enjoy my work!🥹 I hope you enjoy this as well ❤️

Bucci gang react to walking in on you in full vkei makeup

Bruno Bucciarati

- He doesn’t even question it at first. Bruno is half-asleep, and his only concern is whether or not you’re okay

- “Do you feel sick? Wait… why are you so sparkly?” He rubs his eyes, takes a closer look, and just blinks at you in confusion

- He thinks you look stunning, but he has no idea why you decided to do this at such an ungodly hour. He calmly asks, “Would you like some tea?” as if tea is the solution to everything

- Ends up complimenting your eyeliner technique before reminding you to get some rest. “You’re talented, but don’t overwork yourself, okay? Good night, cara.”

Narancia Ghirga

- Narancia screams. Loudly. Like, actually screams

- He thought you were some kind of ghost or demon haunting the bathroom and nearly threw his shoe at you

- Once he realizes it’s just you, he bursts into laughter. “Why do you look like a rock star? Are you in a band now?”

- He insists you let him try the makeup, too. “C’mon, do mine! I’d look cool, right? Like, super edgy!”

- You two spend the next hour giving him a matching visual kei look. By the time you’re both done, it’s almost sunrise, and he’s taking blurry selfies in the mirror

Guido Mista

- Mista sleepily waddles into the bathroom, sees you, and freezes mid-step

- “…Is this a dream, or are you auditioning for some gothic opera?” He’s genuinely torn between being impressed and confused

- Immediately whips out his phone to snap a picture. “The guys are never gonna believe this. You look like you belong in a magazine!”

- Tries to convince you to let him borrow your eyeliner. “C’mon, lemme try it. If I look half as good as you, everyone will think I’m cool!” Spoiler: he smudges it everywhere

Giorno Giovanna

- Giorno walks in completely unfazed. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it

- “ You look… unique,” he says, in his usual calm tone. But then he tilts his head and adds, “Is this part of a new artistic project?”

- Genuinely admires your skills and asks thoughtful questions about your inspiration. “How did you get the eyeshadow to blend so perfectly? It’s quite impressive.”

- Somehow convinces you to explain the concept of visual kei in-depth at 2 a.m., and by the end of it, he’s recommending color palettes and outfits for your next look

Leone Abbacchio

- Abbacchio stumbles into the bathroom half-asleep, muttering about how you’re being too loud

- When he sees your face, he just stares for a solid ten seconds. Then, with the straightest face imaginable, he says, “What the hell are you doing?”

- He’s absolutely not letting this go. “It’s two in the morning. Do you even know what time it is? What possessed you to turn yourself into a glam rock zombie right now?”

- Despite his grumpiness, he thinks you look kind of cool but will never admit it. If you tease him, he’ll roll his eyes and walk off while muttering, “Kids these days…”

Pannacotta Fugo

- Fugo is baffled. He stares at you with the most exasperated look imaginable

- “Why? Just… why?” He’s trying to process why you’re awake, why you’re in the bathroom, and why you look like you’re about to join a gothic rock band

- He starts lecturing you. “It’s two in the morning. You need to sleep. This can wait until daylight, don’t you think?”

- Secretly, he’s impressed by your creativity but won’t admit it because he’s too busy being the responsible one. “At least wash your face before bed. Makeup isn’t good for your skin overnight.”

Trish Una

- Trish is instantly wide awake when she sees you. She gasps, “Oh my god, you look incredible!”

- She’s fully supportive of your midnight makeup escapades and starts gushing about your blending skills and color choices.

- “You have to let me try this! I want to match with you!” She insists on doing her own visual kei look right then and there

- By 3 a.m., the two of you are in full glam, taking dramatic pictures with moody lighting in the bathroom

If you’d like anything tweaked just let me know! Also I want to let you all know that whenever I write these silly scenarios with the “reckless teenagers late nights” vibe I enjoy writing Abbacchios’ reactions the most lol! So I might rewrite this as a full scenario for Abbacchio!👀

If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad you can request it if my requests are open!

i’m screaming crying this was gorgeous

a moment in a bottle

Neuvillette wishes he could preserve this moment forever: the aquarium; the blue light; you.

(Everyone knows that Neuvillette adores you. Except for you, of course.)

(additional, more helpful description: u & neuvillette go on an aquarium date and he pines after you like a fool)

modern, college!au

NEUVILLETTE ♡ GN!READER

@2024gisecretsanta gift for @aquatik !! ♡ i hope you enjoy this piece, and happy holidays!!!

it was so fun to participate in this event ^^ thank u to the hosts and everyone involved for making this so special!!

Neuvillette has always noticed you. 

But he notices a lot of things; like the musk of the earth after it rains, like the light that dapples the campus sidewalk, seeping in between the gaps of the leaves. Neuvillette notices a lot of things, some more than others—he muses, nearly tripping over an uneven slab of the concrete floor, periwinkle eyes fixated on nothing but—

You, similarly to him, are stumbling through the crowd. You, unlike him, are entranced in your own world, eyes darting to and fro, searching amongst the sea of people while he has only ever searched for you. There are too many people in this world, Neuvillette thinks, for him to notice every one. So he notices only one. He notices—

You return his gaze (and Neuvillette feels something shiver in his chest), your lips tugging into a smile (and Neuvillette thinks the sun has shifted, that the sun has reworked itself, tunnelling all its light towards you), your figure suddenly coming closer (and Neuvillette thinks that there is nothing left; he is complete; he is yours absolutely and that is enough). 

You return his gaze. You look at him! Oh, you see him! Neuvillette thinks, This is it, this must be it. This—this… 

(What is it? Neuvillette is no longer capable of thought. He is no longer sentient. He looks at you, and something slams against his ribs: this-is this-is this-is…)

“Neuvillette! I was looking for you!” you exclaim, your voice occupying his mind for much longer than it does the air. Your voice—its unfathomable timbre, its incomparable and fantastical sound! It’s enough, it’s enough!

Neuvillette opens his mouth to respond. There’s a word. He feels himself about to vomit. He feels it: the rush, the suffocation, the gag and the swallow and before he can utter it into existence he clamps his lips shut. There’s a word—or maybe three, or maybe there is no word, nothing in verbal language that is enough to liken your unutterable radiance. 

(What is it? The three words? The rush, the suffocation, the gag and the breathlessness? Neuvillette feels it sinking down his throat, ebbing, reduced from a violent blare to nothing more than a whisper, it goes…)

“[Name],” Neuvillette acknowledges. Maybe, that is enough. “May I ask why?”

Why are you looking for him? Why are you searching for him? Neuvillette wants to hear you say it for himself, to hear the words—which are, after all, nothing more than words—in your fantastical and wonderful timbre. He wants to hear you speak his name—which is just a word, which is just his surname—to feel the revelation, the awakening, the surge! 

“Just because,”—you say, and maybe that’s enough—”I was wondering if you had any plans over the weekend?”

Neuvillette blinks, astonished. Your smile is unwavering, your eyes—your eyes! Neuvillette briefly looks away. The image remains with him still; the color, the glint, the fraction of the sun that is vested within your soul. Neuvillette looks at you, your image devoured by periwinkle. 

“I don’t,” he replies. (He had promised Furina that he’d help her with her case study.) Momentarily, his gaze averts from yours. (He had told one of his professors that he’d volunteer during office hours—who was it, again?) The lie is bitter on his tongue; but Neuvillette isn’t lying. (He’s going to send an email to the professor later, once he remembers who he promised.) Your expression glows. (Maybe this is enough.) Your gentle smile evolves into an excited grin. (He’s going to have to draft a text to Furina, too.) This is enough.

“That’s great!” You reach for your bag, sifting through the various pockets, your hand emerging with two humble, paper tickets. “I won a raffle for aquarium tickets! Do you want to come with?”

He’s whole. He’s complete. This—this is it! This is the surge, the rush, the incomparable and unutterable word! Neuvillette feels it now; the spasm of his heart, the stutter of his throat, the shrink of his figure when you do so much as perceive him! 

Your gaze sinks into his skin. Neuvillette lets it. Your smile sears his brain. Neuvillette replays it. You blink. Neuvillette’s heart follows. 

(Do you ever realize the way he lives? The way he finds meaning only ever because it dances within you?)

This-is-this-is-this-is…

“I would love to,” he replies, unable to contain the smile that tugs at his lips, the smolder in his chest, the primal constriction of his lungs, heaving, desperate to breathe the air you exist in. A breath! A tinge! A fraction of your incomparable existence! This-is-this-is-this-is…

(Neuvillette wonders if you caught it: the word. The word, although pale in comparison, assigns meaning to the enormity that swells within him, the colossal creature, the colossal completion, the vitality; you! Oh, you! When he cannot say your name, he must say this word; this—this fraction, this tiny, insignificant thing: love, love, love! You, you, you!)

“Really?” you say, eyes growing wide. Your lips hang slightly agape, your expression wild and fantastical and bright (Neuvillette thinks this is it); but the shock dissipates into that of utter joy (Neuvillette thinks this is it), and you grin that grin of yours. That grin, (Neuvillette wipes his sweaty palms against the fabric of his dress pants), a simple little something that amounts into an enormous everything. 

“Of course.” Neuvillette knows that this is it. What else, if not this? 

You look at him. His heart surges, his veins beginning to flare, his arteries spasming, flowing without an ebb, overwhelmed and incomparable (Neuvillette doesn’t need to return your gaze; he was already looking at you), insignificant and worldly. 

All you have to do is look at him! All you have to do is perceive him!

“Does noon work for you?” 

Any time works, Neuvillette thinks, any time at all. You could ask for him at four in the morning and Neuvillette would respond; you could stir him from his sleep, from his stupor, from his life. (Take him! Take him from his life! Take him, already!)

“Yes,” Neuvillette says, unable to contain the waver of his voice, the way his fingers instinctively reach to fiddle with his sleeves, “that’s perfect.” 

You look away. His heart surges, his veins beginning to flare, his arteries spasming, ebbing without flow, overwhelmed and incomparable (Neuvillette wishes you would look at him; he wishes you would perceive him, for just a moment will do), insignificant and worldly.

“Alright,” you say, grinning. “Noon it is.”

This-is-this-is-this-is…

It is, Neuvillette thinks. This is it.

Neuvillette has an unspoken routine.

Every day, he wakes up at six, even if he has no morning classes. Every day, he takes a morning walk around the city, admiring the most mundane of sights, like the glow of the lamplights, reflecting off puddles that congregate along sidewalks, like the airplane that soars by, smoke trailing in its wake.

Every day, he returns to his apartment and drinks a warm cup of water. Every day, he opens his laptop, and he sifts through his inbox, responding to different emails and updating his calendar accordingly.

Every day, he saves a slot for you. Today, he fills it in officially; the weekend; the aquarium; noon.

Every day, Neuvillette shuts his laptop, and he takes a sip of his warm water, and he thinks. Sometimes, he thinks about legal cases. Sometimes, he thinks about assignments that are due. Sometimes, he doesn’t have any thoughts at all. 

But every time, he thinks of you. You weave yourself into his daily routine, the legal cases and the assignments. You appear! Even when you’re not there; even when he hasn’t seen you in a couple days, you’re terribly real and terribly vivid. 

And somehow, despite everything, you’re unfathomable. (But Neuvillette fathoms you so often, so poignantly, it’s as if you’re tangible. As if you’re worldly when all you have ever been, to him, was esoteric. Unable to be comprehended. Unable to be conjured within thought, in any comparable magnitude to the colossal vitality that is, so undoubtedly, real. So, undoubtedly, you.)

Today, Neuvillette dons his finest coat. He fits the warmest scarf around his neck. He pats his pockets, and he adjusts his wristwatch—what time is it, again? He looks down—ten o’clock, he should start leaving now. 

The door to his apartment swings open. Neuvillette glances up.

“Neuvillette?” Wriothesley remarks, shrugging off his work uniform haphazardly, strands of his obsidian hair sticking to his skin. “You’re still here?”

“Wriothesley,” Neuvillette acknowledges, “indeed, I am.”

“That’s a surprise,” Wriothesley says, pale blue eyes drifting over Neuvillette’s outfit. “What’s the occasion?” 

Neuvillette coughs into his fisted hand.

“I’m meeting with [Name] later.”

“Ah,” Wriothesley replies, smirking, “that adds up.”

Neuvillette has never considered himself to be transparent, but at the same time, he has never made it an effort to be enigmatic. But the knowing look that Wriothesley gives him is enough to make Neuvillette wonder: has he always been so plainly obvious?

Then, he thinks of you. Have you noticed how plainly obvious Neuvillette is? Have you known all along, yet never brought it up in an effort to spare his feelings?

(Have you ever wanted—for just a fraction, for just a moment—him to be so obvious? Have you ever looked at him—and held his image within your irises—when he hasn’t been looking at you (Which Neuvillette thinks, frankly, that’s impossible; he’s always looking at you)? Have you—have…)

Wriothesley chuckles. “Don’t think too hard about it. Who knows,”—he shrugs, his expression unreadable—“maybe you’ll be in for a surprise.”

Wriothesley has always known more than what he lets on; it’s just in his nature, as a part-time security guard and a student of criminal justice. 

He has never been wrong, Neuvillette thinks—his mind shifts. His mind forms an image, vivid and bright and fantastical; it’s you.

This time, however, he might be. Neuvillette thinks Wriothesley’s implications are outlandish. How could he expect a surprise from you, when you already do so much as exist?

Still, Neuvillette replies, “Maybe.”

There’s a magic that follows after your existence. It’s like the petrichor that swarms the earth after it rains; like the inevitable belief that night follows after day; like the certainty that vests within time; the fact that tomorrow will come, the fact that you are, despite everything, real. It’s unfathomable, really. Your existence. 

And Neuvillette has wondered when everything began, when the world started to shift, when the sun became more than the sun: when it became you. Maybe, it started when he was your partner in a group project back in physics class (which he barely managed to pass with your late-night tutoring and guidance). Maybe, it started when he realized that you were there throughout everything—through the years of his worst, when he loathed everyone, when he had no love in his heart, when the most mundane of things remained as they were: mundane.

Maybe, it doesn’t matter when things begin. All that matters is that they exist now.

“I should get going,” Neuvillette says, taking another peek at his watch.

Wriothesley nods. “Have fun. Let me know if there are any breakthroughs.”

Neuvillette blinks, echoing, “Breakthroughs?”

Wriothesley flashes another one of those knowing expressions. This time, all he offers is a hum. And this time, Neuvillette doesn’t pry; he gives in. Neuvillette does a lot of that—he thinks of you—giving in, and pressing onwards, and living in the unknown despite the answer being right—he thinks of you—in front of him.

He arrives at the subway station an hour and a half before noon. Neuvillette sneaks another glance at his wristwatch, thinking, I’m right on time. After taking a seat on a nearby bench, Neuvillette begins to observe, periwinkle gaze drifting across the sea of people, anchorless and free, his senses reborn as the world reincarnates anew. The air is crisp, the cold stinging the tip of his nose, puffs of condensation escaping his parted lips—Neuvillette feels everything. The fabric against his skin; the surge of life; the rush of the passerby; the frantic and erratic breath that life exhales with each gust of wind.

“Neuvillette!” a voice pierces the crowd, passing through the canal of his ear and stabbing cleanly through his heart. Although it’s just a sound, Neuvillette hears it wholly: the timbre, the tone, the familiarity of his name (which is, after all, not even his first name), the way the syllables sound sacred (and Neuvillette must attribute the fragility to the owner of the voice, not the name) despite it being uttered many times before. 

This-is-this-is-this-is… You. You! 

At your call, Neuvillette stands. His hands, unsure of what to do, reach for the sleeves of his coat, fiddling with the hem while his gaze fixates on you. Once more, periwinkle drowns in your figure. Once more, the world is right. 

“[Name],” Neuvillette replies, unable to contain the gentle smile that possesses his lips. “You’re early.”

You laugh. “You’re earlier!” 

“Yes,” he admits—this-is-this-is-this-is—“you’re right.”

The subway ride to the aquarium is peaceful. Neuvillette couldn’t have asked for anything else, because there you were, and there was the world, and there was the sun, and there you were, and—oh, did he mention that already? 

Neuvillette thinks you were the most wonderful of them all. You; your eyes, focused on the scenery outside. You; your voice, dipped into a whisper as you speak of precious little nothings which, to Neuvillette, seem to be worth everything. 

You’re radiant. Fantastically so. Neuvillette has this realization time and time again. Every time periwinkle swallows your image, and every time his heart shivers at the proximity of your presence, Neuvillette is made aware of how colossally significant you are. You’re like the world. Sublime. Wondrous.

“Neuvillette,” you suddenly say, and Neuvillette feels his ribs shudder. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

He swallows thickly—the way you say his name; oh, the way you, the way you—somehow, he finds his voice, breathing out, “It is my pleasure.”

“Neuvillette!”—and there you go again, calling his name, unaware of the spasm of his heart, the binding of his lungs—“come over here! Look, these are whale sharks!”

Oh, that’s right, Neuvillette thinks, this is your domain. Before he can open his mouth to respond, you usher him in the direction of the spotted creature, its wide mouth stretched agape while it drifts throughout the blue waters, followed by a squad of smaller fish. 

“Those are remoras,” you explain, “they attach themselves to sharks and feed off of parasites that grow on the shark’s skin.”

Oh, Neuvillette thinks, noticing the glimmer of your eyes under the aquatic light, noticing the way your words begin to slur together out of sheer excitement, unable to keep up with the tempo of your thoughts. 

You’re beautiful. 

“What are those?” Neuvillette asks, pointing towards the manta rays.

“Those are manta rays!” you exclaim. “Like the whale shark, they’re filter feeders!” 

“What does that mean?” Neuvillette queries. “To be a filter feeder?”

“It means both whale sharks and manta rays filter out the free-floating plankton drift in the water!” you say, and oh, Neuvillette thinks you look ethereal. This is your domain; the great ocean; the blue light; the knowledge; the passion. You own the sea. The world. Oh, the world! 

“Did you know manta rays don’t have skeletons? They’re made of cartilage.” 

“No, I didn’t,” Neuvillette replies, despite knowing that fact from the plethora of articles he read about marine life a couple days back. Neuvillette didn’t want to seem ignorant in front of you, a marine biology major, but at the same time, he thinks this is a much better alternative. 

This-is-this-is-this-is… 

You smile at him. “It’s all good! I go to this aquarium pretty often, so I know a thing or two.”

You’re lying, Neuvillette thinks. You know more than just a “thing or two.” You know—you know everything, it seems!

(Still, Neuvillette doesn’t pry. He does a lot of that, he supposes—he thinks of you—in your presence, and with the realization—he thinks of you—that you are, unbelievably, here. Tangible. With him. With him!)

Neuvillette wishes he could bottle this moment and keep it forever. 

He observes this aquarium through your gaze, measuring all the creatures with the same joy that you hold them to, learning all there is about different fin types and different species groups. Orcas are not fish, they are marine mammals—Neuvillette knew that too, from an article titled “What Are Orcas Truly?”—sharks breathe by swimming and passing oxygenated water through their gills—Neuvillette learned that fact last night from a video titled “Sharks Sleep While Moving!”

If he weren’t a law major, Neuvillette thinks he would’ve gone into marine biology, too. (And he wonders what it’d be like, to have the same classes as you, to be able to share this knowledge with you, to be able to discuss marine life on a higher level than the rudimentary facts you’re forced to share with him, who is unfamiliar with this world.) 

Neuvillette wishes that he knew more than what he knew. He wishes he could crawl into your brain and adore the ocean with the same passion that you have. He wishes he could share your struggles with strict lab professors, and discuss answers after difficult quizzes—but the boundary between your major and his is too large. He knows nothing. He can say nothing. He is nothing. So he opts to remain silent and stare. 

Can he ever return to this moment again? You; the blue light; the whale sharks; the manta rays; the world! Can he ever revisit this aquarium? Will you ever want to go with him again? Will you speak to him in the same, lovely voice? Will you call his name with the same, lovely timbre?

Oh, Neuvillette wants! He wants! He wants this moment! This aquarium! You!

His heart shudders.

This-is-this-is-this-is…

And the moment is ending. Everything returns to where it started. Neuvillette finds himself on the subway once more, sitting by your side, watching you watch the window, the sun setting in the horizon, the day slipping away.

He wants to bottle this: the pink hues, the orange glimmer, the blue memory, the aquarium, you. He wants to grasp this scene and slip it into his wallet, like a charm, like a reminder of the world and all that has meaning. He looks at you. He wants—and he stops there, because he’s overstepping his boundaries and that’s too much to ask for. 

A yawn escapes your lips, you apologize, muttering, “Sorry, I’m a little tired right now.” 

Neuvillette notices the lull of your head, the flutter of your lashes as you struggle to stay awake. 

“It’s alright.” His leg begins to bounce, his fingers reaching to fiddle with the hems of his sleeves once more. “If I may offer my shoulder, if you would, um… In case you would like to rest.”

Although you don’t seem to mind, or notice, the filler word that slips into his speech, Neuvillette is already questioning himself, berating his sudden inability to speak, reduced to nothing in your colossal presence. For how could he ever amount to anything if you are already everything?

“Thank you, Neuvillette.”

His heart lurches. His lungs heave. His brain falters, unable to form any coherent thought that isn’t composed, in its entirety, you.

Your eyes flutter shut, and your head comes to rest against his shoulder, and Neuvillette thinks—while his leg bounces up and down, mad—that, if he could, he would bottle this moment, and—while his breath shutters, coming to a stop—and, and he would preserve it. And he would love it. This light; this subway; this world; you. Forever. 

Neuvillette has always noticed you. From the moment his periwinkle eyes first beheld your existence, from the moment the world incarnated anew, from the moment—which he wishes he could bottle—your gaze dawned upon him, when dusk dawned upon the two of you, when everything dissipated into darkness, he noticed you then. Even without sight. Even without speech. Even without his senses.

He notices you now, too. He notices the way your brow furrows when the sun’s light slips across your face, the world illuminating and perceiving your irrevocable beauty. He notices the way you turn away slightly, burying your face into the fabric of his coat, trying to escape the radiance which pales in comparison to your own.

His hand comes up to block the sun. Your expression eases. Your breathing evens out and the world is right again. 

This-is-this-is-this-is… 

Neuvillette rests his head against yours, his touch featherlight—the bounce of his leg comes to a stop—his lungs pausing, capturing the breath which holds the essence of your existence—and the moment is preserved—and the final incarnation is complete. 

This is… 

The sun’s final light disappears. The moment is over. 

Neuvillette feels your head against his. A new moment starts. 

And he supposes—without much deliberation—and he thinks—and he has thought this, for the longest of times—that this is love. 

(This is enough.)

In case anyone is having a bad night:

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Here is a master post of movies including Disney and Studio Ghibli

Here is a master post of other master posts to TV shows and movies

*tucks you in with fuzzy blanket* *pats your head*

You’ll be okay, friend <3

idk if this has been done before but it was so funny in my head