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kiriluvbot · 3 years

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NO ONE ASKED BUT IM HERE TO SUPPLY ANYWAY!

sero hanta headcanons for the soul

- asexual, pan-romantic!

- uses they/he pronouns (didn’t know they could have different pronouns until he met tokoyami, and they spent their entire first year having a crisis over it)

- i know it’s old and overused but this kid is a hufflepuff, through and through

- CHILD OF APHRODITE. i take no criticism.

- a heartthrob among his entire grade, not just class A, but B as well, and the general course, and the business course,, AND the support course. everyone loves sero hanta.

- a natural charmer but is literally not aware that they make everyone within a 400 meter radius of them swoon

- until kaminari tells him in their second year. homie. youre fucking hot. and mina says, use it to your advantage. SO HE DOES.

- third year sero hanta is a force to be reckoned with, let me tell you. using their charm along with their natural ability to just. Befriend anyone (including a brick WALL tbh) to get his way. they get their way, they Know Everything. everyone knows his name by the time he graduates.

- The Older Sibling friend. not quite the mom friend or even the dad friend, but the older sibling. he’s a constant source of comfort and dependability among his class, but theyre also an agent of chaos that likes to cause problems On Purpose just to see what’ll happen. they never get caught being the instigator tho. no one can ever catch him.

- likes to watch aforementioned chaos from the sidelines. a mediator and an excellent negotiator. keeps his friends (cough, bakugo) from murdering each other or other people (cough, monoma)

- i like to think he’s the eldest child with two or three younger sisters and maybe a baby brother. their parents divorced right before sero started high school, and he and his siblings live with their mom. she’s a real lovely lady.

- since he’s the eldest, he kinda knows how to take care of people. sick people, sad people, hungry people. they can read and understand people really well if they really matter to him.

- most of the time there’s just wii music in their head tho

- they weren’t super great at prioritizing themselves/taking care of themselves when he first moved in to the dorms, but with time and help from his friends, they keep getting better at it

- sero gets his looks from his dad and his attitude from his mother. again, i imagine she’s a real lovely lady.

- their love language is physical touch! with so many younger siblings and his natural Eldest Sibling Vibe, it’s only natural for him to be super cuddly and affectionate!

- while it may not be their love language, sero also probably really likes spending quality time with his friends. they like going out, they like being loud and having a blast, but the kid also wouldn’t mind sitting in his room with his friends in silence while everyone did their own individual thing.

- the kind of person that sleeps with one pillow only and one blanket only

- probably runs warm, kicks off the blanket in the summer time. either sleeps on his back stretched out like a starfish or curled into themselves like a baby. no in between.

- has a pair of underwear they call their “lucky underwear” and it’s just a pair with spider-man’s face as the pattern.

- the kid does not have regular chairs in his dorm. it’s bean bags or the floor, man.

- they also have a hammock . i’ve seen this repeating trope in every single fic i’ve ever read

- keeps a stash of snacks in his room! but it’s a trade system. kaminari gets m&ms for cheek kisses, kirishima gets beef jerky for his most rib crushing hug, and todoroki gets gummy worms if he shares his manga.

- has led lights that are connected to his speaker and changes color every time a song changes

- has only three playlists. only three.

- they’re titled, respectively: “u yearning bastard,,” “monch monch”, “for pissing bkg off”

- he still listens to the jonas brothers, lots of big time rush, but also fleetwood mac and abba. frank ocean, lorde,,,, but also. they know every word to both mama mia soundtracks.

- absolutely adores horror + romance movies and not much else

- he tries getting into star wars for kirishima’s sake but he literally cannot keep up with the plot for shit.

- can quote the entirety of the notebook with mina (it infuriates bakugo to no end when those two ask to watch it for the fifth time in a week)

- has never tried an energy drink in their life, absolutely refuses to because caffeine makes him Shake and he hates the feeling

- drinks a lot of tea tho! with momo and todoroki!

- favorite snack is oranges. this kid always has oranges.

- aside from satou and bakugo, sero is probably one of the best cooks in their class

- resident pretty boy. did i mention everyone loves them? seriously. he even has the ever so stoic shouto todoroki pining after him.

- had a huge growth spurt the summer after second year began. it pissed off all their friends because he finally passed 6’ while the others were still stuck at 5’9 or below.

- by graduation, sero reached 6’3, and bakugo was still mad, because bakugo never passed 5’10.

- really grew into himself by the end of high school, finally learning how they wanted to express themselves with his clothing style, hair and *clenches fist* piercings

- started painting his nails the summer before their third year and hasnt stopped

- glorious, curly mullet. bejeweled hair pins. jean jackets and platform docs. piercings all the way up his ears. a nose ring and a smiley. (if you don’t know what a smiley is, i beg you to search it up. it’s the cutest fucking thing i’ve ever seen in my life and i want one so bad)

- ochaco is the one who cuts sero’s hair in third year.

- he got most of his piercings alongside bakugo or kaminari, but when they went to get the nose ring, they’d gone with iida and midoriya. and when he got the smiley, he went with todoroki, who squeezed his hand when the needle went through, even if todoroki wasn’t the one getting pierced.

- one time he and denki shaved their legs and arms and Everything to see if it would make them “more aerodynamic” ( “haha dont u mean /sero/dynamic?” “shut up”)

- strangely flexible. everywhere. it makes shouji shiver and jirou gag. it makes todoroki stare with wide, disbelieving eyes.

- really bad handwriting. like. what the fuck.

- that doesn’t stop them from writing cards for each of his friends for their birthdays, for christmas. it doesn’t stop them from writing letters to todoroki (even if he ended up shredding them and throwing them away after they were finished so no one would ever find them. he wanted to ask bakugo to incinerate them, just to be safe, but they didn’t want bakugo, or anyone else, that he had written love letters to shouto todoroki.)

(....not until after they confessed and finally started dating in their third year.)

- finger guns. unironically.

- is a surprisingly good dancer and a passable singer!!!!!!!!

- sings in the shower. also dances in the shower, but one time they fell and hit the wall connecting his and todoroki’s room, and todoroki thought he might’ve died. came to his door and didn’t bother knocking to check and see if they were alright. sero didn’t dance in the shower for a long time after that.

- his favorite color is yellow, but they also really, really like red.

- doesn’t have a fucking phone case on their phone.

- earbuds falling apart but he just keeps putting more tape over them because they really don’t wanna buy new ones (kirishima bought him a pair for christmas because he didn’t want sero to get electrocuted from broken earbuds. sero ensured him he would likely not get electrocuted just from some earbuds, but took the gift anyway)

- smell checks their clothes like a HEATHEN

- is in love with shouto todoroki.

that’s all :) sero hanta is my number one best boy and i love them dearly.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hanta sero #sero hanta #sero #sero headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #sero hanta headcanons #long post #bakusquad

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sonicasura · 3 years

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Balan Wonderworld Review: Favorite Costumes Part 2

Before we get started, I like to say something. I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE TIM TRAPS. If you don't know, there is a specific plant that tends to appear in certain levels called Tim Traps. A carnivorous orange flower that's favorite meal is TIMS. If you kick the plants, you can free your Trapped Tim or prevent one from getting trapped for a short period of time. Problem is if the Tim is trapped for too long, your baby is gone for good. Chapter 3 and Chapter 5's Act 3 are loaded with these annoying plants. To the point if I can't find the trapped Tims, I exit out of the game just to save my poor fluffballs. Ain't sacrificing my little birds for Drops and Trophies! Mini rant over.

Rules are the same as before. I'd be ranking both a Common Costume and Rare Costume. Common Costumes are easily to find whether it be in multiple levels and Rare Costumes are those that rarely appear or are difficult to get.

I'll be doing my favorite Secret Costume after playing all Act 3s for each chapter. Now let's begin.

Chapter 7

Common Costume- Floaty Flower

The Flower Fairy and greatest glider found in the main story. Floaty Flower is a costume that can be found in the Act 1, 2 and the Boss Act, it offers a slower descent but faster movement than the hover for Soaring Sheep.

I love this costume not for its aesthetic but a cute Easter Egg I found in Chapter 7 Act 1. On rare occasions, this costume is an NPC that actually flirts with you! Some NPCs in certain chapters act differently from their standard counterpart. They often try to disguise themselves or runaway. Catching them grants you a free costume of the one you caught.

Floaty Flower will appear and follow you, similar to a shy school girl with a crush. If you go to her, she will run which is a similar action to any shy person getting approached by their crush. Also... I think there is some lore hidden in this one that might be quite sad if it's directly linked to Cal, the human whose heart created this particular world. If so then... OOF.

Rare Costume - Paladin Puncher

A knight fights with his fists than a sword. This costume can be found in Act 2 and is a stronger version of the Pumpkin Puncher that can break iron or ice blocks. He's a bit slower than his Chapter 6 counterpart but perfect breaking the more blocks and defeating spiky enemies.

I also love the fact this costume goes against the traditional tools of a knight. Knights often fight using swords, shields, lances and rare occasions bows or axes. If you give me one who PUNCHES or straight uses martial arts to fight then you got my vote in seconds.

Chapter 8

Common Costume - Snow Fairy

Elegant dancer of ice and snow. The Snow Fairy costume allows the wearer to walk on air for a short period of time and can in found in Act 1 and Act 2. This costume does have a shorter usage time than Air Cat but makes up for it with the added elevation.

I absolutely adore how elegant and beautiful this particular costume is. You can compare the Snow Fairy to myths often related to fae or hidden in the freezing mountains. An otherworldly beauty that makes any hardship worth seeing just a being before your eyes. Being a reindeer type Faun just adds to the mystique and creating snowflakes to walk on is a perfect extra touch.

Rare Costume - Amadeus

Sophisticated pianist. A costume that can only be found in Act 1 and is a performing costume. Now I am a big fan of piano covers, whether it be covers of game osts or actual songs, there is rarely any piano music I don't like.

I love the fact he's wearing piano keys as a collar and even has a tutu made out of those very keys. A very creative take to a normally grounded instrument. And the big white wig is a nice touch since it's often portrayed with pianists in various media.

Chapter 9

Common Costume- Iron Panda

Adorable crusher. Iron Panda is a costume found in Act 1 and Act 2 with the ability to break iron blocks using both its jump and weight. This costume is surprisingly fast for a rather large and heavy form, perfect for fast stomps on enemies or quick getaways if you have rare costumes you don't want to lose.

This costume reminds of a rolling Russian Doll with a panda theme. Very adorable, the bluish purple color suits the white very nicely and I love that sleepy look on its face. The large blue dots on its sides are actually the arms too, they mimic panels! Only thing that unnerves me is when the costume turns their head by a 90 degree angle. Super creepy when using it.

Rare Costume- Merry Ghost

Cute and Spooky! The Merry Ghost is a costume that can be found in Act 2 and gives the ability to constantly float. It's main purpose is to avoid ground hazards like poison swamps and has a larger slightly floaty jump. The only downside is that you can't harm enemies with this, it's only for quick mobility.

Very adorable especially with the stitched rag cloak covering the body. It has this Mimikyu sort of vibe but also a Casper the Friendly Ghost aura too. Friendly spirits are often tossed aside for more vicious or antagonistic ones in a lot of media. Getting an adorable friendly one just adds points in my book and a good pal for Casper.

Chapter 10

Common Costume - Inky Blaster

Yuji Naka's take on a squid kid. This costume can be found in Act 1, Act 2 and the Boss Act. She allows the wearer to throw fast globs of rainbow paint at opponents or targets and is decently agile.

Love that her hands are paintbrushes and is based on the octopus. Tentacles mimicking the frills of a dress and used for hair and feet? A very creative take and splattering rainbow paint on the annoying types of Negati (looking at you ya divebomb happy Pelican and destroyer of most of my good costumes) is very therapeutic.

Rare Costume- Air Unicorn

The first unicorn I like?! This costume can only be found in Act 1 and allows the user to walk on air farther than Air Cat. The practical godfather of mobility, and recovery. You won't believe how many times this costume has gotten me to very difficult areas and saved me from death via falling into the abyss.

It is a very tricky costume to find but if you turn around, there's a large paintbrush on the wall. You need the Double Jumper to get on top but you'll be able to see a hidden mirror. That is where the Air Unicorn is located.

I won't lie that unicorns are not my preferred mythological creature. I live in America where unicorns tend to be oversaturated to oblivion and don't get me started on My Little Pony. The show isn't my cup of tea but I do have some followers and friends who are fans. People have their own opinions and it's rude to question them about it.

I honestly love the elegant but cute design, the purple, pale pink and cyan just fit well with the white, I also love that the mane mimics a paintbrush tip and the large light purple collar of fur is a perfect touch to this fine design.

Chapter 11

Common Costume - Bulldozer

A man's punny best friend! This costume can be in Act 1, Act 2 (?), and the Boss Act. It lets you push special construction blocks and you can boost the push speed by button mashing.

They definitely took a lot of creative for costumes in Chapter 11 amongst the other ones in my opinion. Fire Stations tend to have some animal companions with dogs being the most common but instead of a Dalmatian for the design they used a Bulldog! 😍

Like the aforementioned machine, this good boy is bulky, has the appropriate color scheme and even the hands turn into bulldozer's shovel when using the ability! I love the fact his tail is wagging when you push a block and it wags faster if ya button mash!

Also the name is a pun!

Rare Costume - Fiery Blaster

Pyromancer of Lions. The Fiery Blaster costume can only be found in Act 2. It gives the wearer that ability to throw large fireballs alongside fire and lava immunity. If you hate lava levels or have difficulty with this Chapter's boss then I recommend getting this Costume.

First thing I like to say about this particular design is how they use the colors. Looking at the mane, you can see how the red and darker red are patterned in a way to mimic flames. The dark red fur on the feet are even in fire like a pattern. The outfit such as the yellow and brownish kilt alongside the gloves spewing fire around the wrists just reminds me of a fire dancer.

I can see this fella wielding one of the torches a fire dancer uses and just put on a spectacular show.

Chapter 12

Another loveable version of a beloved icon. The Invisible Man costume can be found in Act 1, Act 2 and the Boss Act. It has the power to turn the wearer invisible for a period of time and become undetected to enemies that aren't bosses.

Agile and perfect to deal with enemies who are very annoying or are difficult snipers. You don't know how satisfying it is to give the more aggravating Negati an invisible middle finger by sneak attacking them. I have lost many costumes whenever enemies got the drop on me so it's fair to dish out payback.

I love how this design takes aspect from the popular icon but also have it relate to their human counterpart. Bandages were used by the original Invisible Man to cover skin his normal clothing couldn't cover in public and made it easier for him to disappear when needed.

The shoes and arms being covered in bandages and some of the bandages being used as bangs for the hair is a nice touch.

Rare Costume - Jolt Tiger

Immovable Taser. This costume can only be found in Act 2. It grants electricity immunity and create a barrier when you stand still. One of the better costumes for baiting particular enemies. You do have to be careful because a single itch will stop the barrier.

If you don't know, the Tiger is my Chinese Zodiac and electricity is one of my favorite elements. Love the yellow lightning bolt flairs and even the black stripes mimic lightning too! I also like the will o' wisp pattern on the stomach and the large tuft of grayish fur around the chest. The design puts it above the Sun Walker.

And that is it! The next thing I will cover is the level design and it's music. The bosses will be done last since it's good to save the best for last!

Until next time folks, see you back in Wonderworld.

#balan company #balan wonderworld #fuck square enix #balan company's innocent #sonicasura #mun sonicasura #game review #my personal opinion #fucksquareenix #balan wonderland #balan wonderworld costumes #favorite costumes #personal favorites

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some-cookie-crumbz · 3 years

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Okay so the Bakujirou fic made me want to read more of ur writing(uwu💖💖💖💖)so can you please write a fluffy tdmm fic of them playing Animal Crossing:New Horizons together featuring trans girl Momo(which is my favorite bnha trans hc tbh)?Pls include all your headcanons i want this to be as self-indulgent for you as possible

We are getting up to some hopefully good nonsense up in here~! Let’s see if I can’t cook up something tasty for ya! Also this was one of those prompts that really got away from me and kinda... rambled away from the main point of the request and dissolved into a bit of a character study with added notes of fun shipping goodness so please forgive the length! And obviously if this is unsatisfactory please feel free to scream at me for my sins.

Trigger Warning: Transphobia, Mentions/ References to Body Dysphoria

She wasn’t Nashi.

Momo had to remind her of that fact every now and again, when the doubts about her appearance started to leak in. Did she present well enough? Did her hobbies speak loudly enough of the truth of her femininity or did people think she was faking? If she decided to go with a bob cut like Ochako’s, or a cute pixie like Mina's, would it make her features stand out wrong? Would she be fine wearing shorts, or would it be safer to pick a skirt or dress? It wasn't as often as it used to be that the anxiety about her appearance reared up - especially since she had been eagerly accepted by her peers when she confessed that she'd been deemed male at birth - but there were still moments where it did.

Like that evening, in specific.

While Father and Mother still worked in Pro Heroics, their roles had shifted quite drastically over the years. Momo herself had only been eight years old when Father was gravely injured in a Villain fight, taking a serious blow to protect a fleeing civilian. There had been countless surgeries and treatments to follow, leaving Father unable to move as well as he used to. He retired as an active on-duty Pro and became more involved with the agency behind the scenes. He worked more with the finances, employee relations and things of that ilk while Mother took over control as the public face. For a while, things were fine like that. It was a nice balance between them and, even though it was clear Father missed interacting with the public, he settled into his position quite well.

But as Momo's second year at UA started its second half, Father's health started deteriorating quickly. His immune system had been compromised as a result of all his past procedures and the side effects of that started to hit fast and hard. Momo herself had missed three days of classes to rush to see him when his cold escalated enough to warrant a hospital stay. While there, Mother and Father had discussed an upcoming business mixer. It would allow for them to connect with various other agencies to locate team-up partners as well as connecting to a few new support development teams. Mother had seemed rather concerned by the idea of going alone given that Father had always been the social core of their team.

And so, despite her discomfort, Momo had volunteered to go along. Mother had seemed surprised but agreed to take up her offer.

The day had been very strange leading up to the event itself. After getting out of her classes that Saturday, Mother picked her up to get put together. The full works were done for her; hair, make-up, manicure and pedicure, all coordinated to match with the long, sapphire blue evening gown Mother had picked out for her. Mother was an odd mix of overly involved and incredibly distant, taking care to ask if the length of her heels were comfortable for her or if the red of her lipstick was too dark for her liking. Once getting a response, though, she’d be heading off to tend to something for her own attire for the night without a second glance.

A part of her said she should have expected as much. It was a hard thing to define, her relationship with her mother. Ever since she came out and asserted who she really was - claimed Momo as her true name - Mother had never misgendered or dead named her. Even in the beginning, when the change in name and pronouns were still new, she’d gone out of her way to speak more carefully, to address her daughter the correct way. Momo took that as a sign that she was accepted, yes, but… Mother had always been incredibly distant. She seemed to only take an interest in Momo when it involved her Quirk training and her accomplishments therein. She often wondered if the problem was more that Mother had never wanted children in the first place and only agreed to having one to placate Father, or to carry on the family name.

It was rather disheartening to think about.

The moment they entered the extravagant ballroom for the mixer, another Pro that Momo couldn’t place was flagging Mother down excitedly. “Yaoyorozu-San, such a delight!” he greeted happily, offering her his hand. His gaze flickered over to Momo, smile remaining in place though his eyes gleamed in confusion. “Ah, and who is this? A niece or cousin of yours or your husband’s?”

“No,” Mother said, quirking an eyebrow as if the answer should be obvious, “this is my daughter, Momo.”

Momo made sure to flash a demure smile as she bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

“A daughter? I heard your only child was a son,” Momo could feel herself tense as she righted her posture. Of course, she thought, it would already be starting so quickly into her evening.

“A mistake, I assure you. This is my daughter and I expect you to respect her as such,” There was an odd undercurrent to Mother’s tone that caused Momo to glance at her sideways. She looked thoroughly unamused, judging by the scowl and slight glare she had fixated on him, and her shoulders were squared as a show of confidence. She supposed that Mother got tired of hearing this same statement time and again.

He blinked slowly, nose wrinkling briefly, before nodding curtly. “Of course. My apologies,” he shifted his gaze away from her to Mother quickly, clearly uncomfortable. “Anyway, Yaoyorozu-San, I had been hoping to have a word with you! I have a case on my hands that seems well suited to your skills.”

Mother perked up a bit at that. “Hmm. For now I’ll just take a general overview. I assume you do not have any official documents regarding it on your person currently, yes?”

Momo let out a small breath at the attention being directed away from her. “I’ll be going to get a refreshment, Mother,” she announced, though she doubted that she was heard. She made a beeline for the aforementioned table. It was often at these kinds of get-togethers that there were two separate refreshment areas; one for the younger crowd and another for the adults. She grabbed the ladle in the punch bowl and started to pour some into a decorative plastic cup for herself. There were orange and lemon slivers floating on the surface of the liquid so she prepared herself for the tart bite of citrus on her tongue, a small smile on her lips.

For a second she thought of Shoto, most likely settled in the dorms with his Nintendo Switch, most likely catching bugs or fishing on his new Animal Crossing game. The system and game - according to him - were a bribe from Hawks to keep some secret from Endeavor. Shoto had held up that part of the bargain but, he confessed, had snitched to Natsuo. It had been the most entertaining family meal they’d had in a while after that, he assured, and she giggled to herself as she sipped her drink. He may not seem like it, but Shoto had a mischievous streak in him.

“No way! Is that you, Nashi?” She jumped and whipped around, noticing a group of three boys around her age approaching. She recognized one of them from her first grade school, before she’d started her transition, but it took a moment to place a name to the face.

She plastered on a smile as she turned to face them fully. “It’s Momo, actually. It’s good to see you again, though, Hiroki-Kun,”

Hiroki blinked and tilted his head, confused for a moment, before his eyes widened in epiphany. “Oh, okay, my bad! Momo it is!” he agreed with a grin before indicating the other two with him. “Well, let me introduce you! This guy to my left is Yori, and the one to my right is Manzo! Guys, this is Momo, the one I was telling you about!” His tone dipped slightly as he introduced the second boy with him, as if saying his name had left a bitter taste in his mouth, but quickly perked back up after.

Yori offered a shy smile, staying close to Hiroki, but still offering her his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Momo-San. Hiroki-Kun says a lot of great things about you,” he said quietly.

"Does he?" she asked in slight surprise.

Hiroki grinned at her, folding his hands behind his head. "Of course! You were, like, the coolest kid on the playground! Cool Quirk, super nice, really smart… Who wouldn't admire that?"

She looked away bashfully and giggled. "You're too kind, Hiroki-Kun," she mused, turning her attention to Manzo. She held out her hand to shake his hand next. "You're Manzo-Kun, right?"

“And you’re Nashi, yeah?” he quipped, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

She flinched and shook her head, still trying to be civil. “No, I’m not. As I just told Hiroki-Kun, my name is Momo,”

“Your name now is Momo, but your real name is Nashi,” he retorted.

Her hand dropped to her side, clenching into a fist at her side as she tried to keep her cool. “Momo is my real name!”

“No,” Manzo laughed, taking a step towards her that caused her to take a step back, “Momo is the name you use to play dress up.”

Hiroki stepped forward, shoving an arm against Manzo’s chest and nudging him back that step. “Dude, don’t be a disrespectful ass!”

“She hasn’t said or done anything to offend you. And even if she did, that doesn’t give you the right to act like this,” Yori chimed in as well, a disappointed frown on his face.

Manzo glared before shoving Hiroki’s arm aside and advancing on Yori, who recoiled at his approach. “Oh, what? You think just because you have your stupid little buddy here you’re hot shit?” he barked, moving to shove him.

In a flash, Momo rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “Leave him alone!” she snapped.

Manzo whipped around to face her and wretched his arm free, a nasty grin on his face. “Oh, what, you wanna fight about it? Fine! Let’s fight like men! Since that’s what you really are, Nashi-Kun!” he goaded.

“I’m not a boy and my name isn’t Nashi!” she shouted back, grip on his arm tightening slightly as angry tears started to pool in her eyes. “My name is Yaoyorozu Momo and I’m a girl!”

There was a beat of silence following her words, making her glance up as she realized that all conversation had died around them. Her stomach churned at the realization of the spectacle they’d become. She wasn’t supposed to behave like this! She was supposed to come and be the perfectly sociable young lady her parents had raised her to be. She wasn’t supposed to be getting dragged into situations like this.

“What is the meaning of all of this?” Mother’s curt tone cut in, snapping her from her thoughts. She had to steel herself to look up only to see that furious orange eyes were not fixated on Momo herself, rather, Manzo.

“Yes, son, explain,” another voice chimed in from behind Mother. The man she’d been chatting with when Momo first wandered away approached, looking directly at Manzo with a clearly forced smile on his face.

Manzo opened up his mouth to speak when Hiroki interrupted with “Manzo was being a dick to Momo! He wouldn’t respect her identity or name!”

“I was just stating the truth!” Manzo sneered angrily, finally wrenching his arm free from her grasp.

“Son, you-!”

“Momo, we are leaving. Now,” Mother said, tone clipped and flat.

Manzo’s father looked at her in panic. “Um, uh, Yaoyorozu-San, how about we select a time to discuss that case I mentioned in a more professional setting? One where the adults can talk without the children around?”

Mother glared at him, the look so harsh he shrunk back, before moving to wrap an arm over Momo’s shoulders to lead her out. She said nothing as she allowed Mother to lead her out and to the car, the air between them tense and awkward, barely catching Hiroki trying to call an apology after her and Manzo’s father berating him.

The silence in the back of the limo once they were settled inside was staggering, making Momo wish she could stick her head out the window to scream instead of keeping her gaze fixed on her toes. It was even worse than the air between them on the walk over with the added lack of escape route. She felt like such a failure as she struggled to take in breaths to keep herself composed. She was a top student in the top class at the top Pro Heroics school, for crying out loud! She should be able to handle herself against a bigoted moron! He shouldn't be more terrifying than the ruthless villains she'd faced!

“Momo,” Mother said, her tone so shockingly soft that her head jerked up. Her gaze was fixated on her, as unreadable as ever.

Momo swallowed thickly as she forced herself to square her shoulders. She should apologize for her behavior. She’d caused a scene and surely Mother had been embarrassed by that. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” she said, blinking in surprise at her words. There was another pregnant pause as Momo let her gaze wander away again, fixated on a small fuzz ball in the limo carpeting by the heel of her left shoe. “Is that normal? What that little brat was saying and doing. Is that what normally happens to you at these kinds of things?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded timidly, wringing her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, for blowing up like that. I can normally keep myself more composed than that during im-!”

“Do not apologize to me, Momo; you were not in the wrong,” she insisted, her voice catching in a mix of irritation and… concern? Mother opened her mouth three times before shutting it again and sighing, her shoulders slumping. “So this has happened and you never told us.”

Feeling a lump sprout and block her throat, Momo could only nod in response.

Mother lifted her head to meet Momo’s eye, her expression filled with sadness and regret. “You don’t feel comfortable coming to me with these concerns, do you?”

“It’s not just… I… So many more important things are going on right now. I don’t want to put more on your plate,” she said softly.

“Nothing is more important than you, Momo,” she argued with a shake of her head. She looked away for a moment before taking a breath and reaching out, setting one of her hands on top of Momo’s. “I haven’t always been the best with affection when it comes to you, or, well, really anyone aside from your Father. I suppose that I had always assumed that it was fine to leave those things to him, that one of us would focus on the emotional side of things and the other the more practical. Father was the fun parent you could play games and sing songs with, while I was the parent who made sure you kept your Quirk in check and your grades up. I thought… I thought that would be a good balance, that it would give you everything you needed. I’ve come to understand how wrong that belief was.”

“M-Mother?”

She placed her other hand above her heart, giving Momo’s a small squeeze as she held her gaze. “I’m going to work at being better for you, at giving you what you need from me. I need you to understand that my failings as a mother... None of that was ever your fault. I’m sorry that my actions made it seem like my love is something you have to work to earn. I love you, Momo, and I’m sorry I’ve presented that fact as being conditional and not eternal,”

She could feel more tears starting to pool in her eyes before she surged forward to embrace Mother. She was tense for a second before she embraced her back, one hand gently combing through her hair soothingly. The rest of the ride back to campus was spent like that, with her face burrowed into Mother’s arms as she cried and settled. It was strange, how nice it felt. It wasn’t like the bear hugs Father used to give her, where her small frame would be completely enveloped and held snug. No, this was something a bit more careful and delicate, something nostalgic and delicate but just as important.

Mother offered to walk her in, carefully dabbing the smeared mascara and smudged eyeshadow aside with a handkerchief, but Momo insisted she’d be fine alone. After stepping out of the vehicle and into the brisk evening air, she took a breath to help settle her nerves and maybe alleviate the twinge of a small headache she could feel brewing. It rattled inside her, still a little shaken up, but she squared her shoulders and made the trek inside. Mother didn’t leave until she was inside, she noted, and made a mental note to talk to her later more about everything that had happened that night. The incident with Manzo had been one thing, but there was the separate can of worms it had opened that she wanted to take care of, too.

She made sure to be quiet as she made her way to the elevator, the sounds of some of their peers milling about in the living room easy to hear. She was pretty sure they were gearing up for their Saturday evening game fest. Surely there’d be a barrage of broken controllers a la Bakugo if it was one of their Super Smash nights, she thought with a small huff, before turning to hit the elevator button. “Momo?” A familiar voice chimed beside her, causing her to jump.

She turned and blinked to be greeted by Todoroki Shoto, staring at her with his usual unreadable face, and let out a small squeak of shock. “Ah, Shoto,” she sighed as her shoulders sagged slightly. “Perhaps Ochako-Chan’s suggestion of putting a bell on you wouldn't be such a bad suggestion. You startled me.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, tilting his head as if sizing her up, and blinked slowly. “I got my Snooty and Cranky villagers earlier,” he said.

She gasped before pouting at him. “You said you’d wait for me to do any more island hopping, Shoto!” she huffed.

“I needed to load up so I could give Ojiro some oranges, and then I got kinda wrapped up doing stuff,” he admitted. He stole a glance at their classmates as Sato and Tooru made their way from the kitchen area with a few bowls and snacks. “Are you going to join everyone else for JackBox tonight?”

She shook her head. “No. Tonight has been a bit more… eventful than I would have liked,” she said, making sure to keep her composure. She didn’t want to worry him over it all. “I just want to go finish washing off the make up, put on some comfortable clothes and relax.”

“I’ll get snacks, then,”

“Huh? Snacks?”

“I still have two plots left for my island and a lot of Nook miles tickets. You get changed and I’ll meet you in your room in a few minutes so we can do them together,” And with that, he moved towards the kitchen.

She blinked and watched him before letting out a small laugh and shaking her head, hitting the elevator button. Shoto was an odd one to be sure, especially since he’d started working towards coming out of his shell more. A part of her was grateful but another part found his stubborn streak to be a bit exasperating. Then again, he only seemed to push when he knew something was wrong, so maybe it was more just trying to offer comfort? Despite his usual aloof demeanor, he was surprisingly astute at reading a room. As to whether or not he could understand how to react to what he was able to deduce was another matter entirely, though.

She set that aside while she got washed up and changed. Her mind shifted gears as she stared at her reflection, thinking about what Mother had said. She felt a tightness in her chest as her mind whirled again. There was some comfort in Mother acknowledging that there was room for growth, sure, but… The catalyst that remained unsaid left her sick. Even if Mother hadn’t said it, she knew this was a reaction to the looming shadow of Father’s death. She had to swallow a growing lump in her throat and shake her head, put those thoughts to bed until a more appropriate time.

She didn’t want to ruin the rest of she or Shoto’s evenings.

She opted for some old sweats and a tank top, taking a moment to comb her hair out from the complex updo it had been styled into, opting to leave it loose afterwards to help abate the small headache she had brewing. Though, if she was honest, sitting and playing games with her boyfriend seemed like a nice way to wind down. She had been having a blast watching Shoto become completely enamored with his little island and all the cute animal villagers with him.

She’d had her own file a good time longer than him and was mostly done with all the villager-hunting and replacing she’d wanted to do but found watching him work through his first experience with it endearing. He’d never even played an Animal Crossing game before so everything was completely new to him. Once she was settled, she took her unit off the dock and propped open the door. Not too long after she’d taken the time to give daily gifts to Phoebe, Ozzie, Chai and Shep, Shoto appeared in the doorway. He had four lychee ramunes, a bowl of popcorn, a bag of konpeito, a variety bag of hi-chews and a package of black licorice tucked away in his arms, his Switch case strap around his wrist. “Ah, here, let me help you,” she urged, setting her Switch down and getting up to help him. “Also, you can dock your Switch on mine. That way we can see your island visits on the big screen together.”

“Thanks. I grabbed a few different things but I can go downstairs and get more later,” he offered as she took the drinks and popcorn. He set the other snacks down on her dresser before heading over to her bed to rearrange the pillows to form the usual cocoon they made for play sessions together. She took his Switch and docked it for him, then grabbed his joycons and put them in the controller holder. Once that was all set up, Shoto settled into the large pillowy ring with his legs spread so that she could settle between them, resting her back against his chest, him using her pillows to prop him up and her relying on him.

She used her remote to flick on the television, then grabbed her console from the other end of the bed and reached for the bowl of popcorn, popping a few pieces into her mouth. “So you did some island hopping while I was gone? Find anyone you liked?” she asked as they watched his game load up.

“I encountered Diana on one of them. She talked to me like she didn’t know me, which was weird,” he said.

“Well, of course she did! That Diana is different from the Diana on my island,” she giggled. She then perked up and glanced up at him. “Oh, and I still need to come get some oranges from you. They’re the only fruit I’m missing on my island.”

“I still can’t believe that out of the fourteen people that have this game, I’m the only one who ended up with oranges as their island fruit. Or that one of you didn’t at least get it as your exotic option,” he commented as his character stepped out of his house. “Oh, and how soon before I can move my villagers' houses?”

“You’ve already gotten your first three furnished homes, so I think you should have access to it. It’s just a matter of having the bells to spend on moving someone,” she explained as she glanced down at her own screen. Shep came rushing from the left to talk to her excitedly. “Who were you thinking about moving?”

“Roald. I want to move him to the other side of the island from me,”

“Aw, why? He’s so cute!”

“I think he’s plotting to kill me,” he said, completely serious as he stopped in front of the penguin in question's house. When he’d first made his file, Shari and Roald were his beginning villagers and he’d decided to place their tents close to his own for the sake of ease.

She snorted and looked up at him. “He’s just a penguin, Shoto,”

“Just look at his eyes, Momo… He’s a villainous mastermind,” To illustrate his point, he ran his character in a circle around the little avatar, before turning and darting to the left. “That’s why I need more villagers like Ruby and Kyle, who have my back no matter what. I need a whole squad for the day he finally snaps.”

“You don’t think Gayle and Punchy would have your back?”

“Gayle would probably be on my side. She and Roald had a fight the other day so there’s bad blood there. But I don’t want Punchy putting his life on the line. He is a precious boy who must be protected,” he said, glancing down at her with a stern gaze.

She couldn’t help but snort at the expression. Specifically in that it was being enacted regarding pixelated animals on a Nintendo game. “And did you find anyone worthy of enlisting for this most noble of causes?” she teased.

He hummed, reaching with one hand to grab a bit of popcorn himself as he came to a stop between a labelled plot at the edge of the beach. He clicked on the sign, pulling up a card that read “This spot reserved for Static’s new home.”

“Oh, you got Static? He’s a great choice for your Cranky!”

“I like that he is a very tiny squirrel with a very deep voice,” he said.

“Much like how you like that Punchy is a cat and is Lazy?”

“You get me,” he said before running upwards. He crossed a bridge to another area to show another plot with a sign that read “This spot reserved for Willow’s new home.”

Momo giggled. “Willow’s a good choice, too. I almost expected that you’d try to get another cat villager for your Snooty villager, but sheep villagers are always a good one, too,” she said excitedly. She plopped a few more pieces of popcorn into her mouth as she walked into Bruce’s house on her own game. “So you officially have every personality type on your island! Do you have any idea as to what kind of personality types you’d like to have duplicates of?”

“Hmm… Not too sure. You have two Jocks and two Normals, right?” As he asked that, he ran back to his Resources Center to get the first of his last two house kits.

“Yeah. I have Bam and Tybalt, and Bertha and Savannah,” she hummed. She watched as he placed the new house right behind his own, as if it would be watching the back of his own. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at the sheer ridiculousness of him.

He hummed thoughtfully before he made his way into the airport. “I guess I’ll just go for characters I like. Personality doesn’t really matter to me since I already have one of every type.”

“That’s a good approach, I think,” she hummed, tossing a bit more popcorn into her mouth. “How many Nook Tickets do you have?”

“13,” he said while speeding through the dialogue to board the plane. “I farmed Nook miles after I found Static and Willow so I could go get more villagers once you got back.”

She tilted her head up and pressed a small kiss to his chin. “So sweet,” she hummed before looking down at her own game as she started looking for her daily fossils. She’d already completed the fossil exhibits in her game, but like the extra scratch she got from selling the duplicates.

For a moment things were quiet as Shoto used his ladder to climb up the three tiers of the small island to the top, where his potential new villager was waiting. To then immediately start climbing back down at the sheep sitting in front of the campfire. “Nope. Nope. N. O. P. E,” he mumbled as he did.

“Aw, you don’t want Pietro? He’s considered rare!”

“And he can stay rare and away from my island,”

The next three islands were deemed ones Shoto wasn’t interested in - Eugene, Jeremiah and Limberg - not that she could blame him with Limberg. “He’s not particularly good,” she mumbled.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen a single mouse villager that I like the design of,” he commented as he wandered off the desk and onto his fifth island.

“Bree and Dora are pretty cute but most of them are really lackluster,” she agreed, saving her own file and setting her Switch in her lap as he approached the campfire.

Shoto blinked in slight surprise. “A snow leopard?”

“Actually, Bianca’s classified as a tiger, despite her markings,” she said. She watched as he immediately invited her to his island. “Just so you know, she’s a Peppy type, I think.”

“She looks like Fuyumi-Nee,” he said. Ah, of course that would be enough to get him on board with adding Bianca to his roster.

She set her Switch aside and carefully maneuvered off of her bed. “I’m going to open one of the ramune. Do you want me to open one for you, too?”

She made quick work of opening the drinks and offering him his once he finished placing his last plot back on his own island. She took a quick sip from hers before opening the package of black licorice and eating a piece as she watched him. “Mind if I ask you something unrelated, Shoto?”

He glanced up at her, mismatched eyes sparking with something she couldn’t quite place, before he set his drink on the bedside table and patted the space she’d left. “Sure,” he said, his avatar boarding the plane to do his next round of island hops.

She was quick to settle back in with him, turning her body this time to snuggle into his chest. She felt him shift to wrap his arms around her, controller lax in his hand. “We’ve discussed it before but… What do you think it takes to forgive someone?”

He let out a thoughtful noise. “Well, I think forgiveness is different from person to person. Everyone has a threshold for what they feel is forgivable, so I think that needs to be considered,” He set the controller off to the side to card one hand through her hair while the other stroked up along her spine, the movements slow and soothing. “Speaking from my own situation… I chose forgiveness because I could see a genuine change and a refusal to shy away from the wrongs that had been done. I’m still keeping a distance, and I’m ready to burn that bridge in a heartbeat if I see a relapse, but… I can see authentic change. And that’s enough for me to offer my tentative, conditional forgiveness.”

She nodded at his words, closing her eyes and burrowing into him further. She had always wanted to have a better relationship with Mother, if she was honest. So… This could be a good chance for that, right? They could work on mending things between them and find some common ground. The thought of having a better relationship with her left a warmth in her chest, one that made her smile. Could they have proper Mother-Daughter days? Maybe she could learn more about the older woman’s hobbies and interests outside of Pro Heroics work? That could be nice. “Thank you, Shoto,” she mumbled.

“Any time, Momo,” he said, tipping his head to press a peck to the top of her head. He perked up again and glanced at the screen. “Not to derail but… I think it’s another cat?”

“Oh yeah? What color?” she mumbled.

He shifted his hands to pick his controller back up, keeping his arms looped around her though. “Grey. Oh, their eyes are different colors,”

“Oh, that’s-!” Momo’s eyes snapped open and she sat up, looking wildly over her shoulder at the screen. “Shoto, that’s Raymond! You got Raymond!”

#crumbles grumbles #TodoMomo #TW: Transphobia #TW: Body Dysphoria #my fics #So I got this request like four months ago #So that shows how long I've had my reading of Momo's Parents waiting in the wings lmao!#Hori has given us v small nuggets to work with for Momo #So I'm gonna give her the Ojiro treatment and give her family ties to explore #Also I'm a sucker for parallels with ships so *yeets some of those in here too*

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pepperful-qt · 4 years

Text

Citrus 🌿

Kita Shinsuke x Reader SMAUish ; Part 2

masterlist

Warnings: mentions of injury & blood (small) ;

yk how I said this series is based on a oneshot? yea here it is (~3.2k words)

You huffed out a breath as you passed through the school gates. The early January air was just cool enough to chill your breath into a puff of visible vapor. Not quite freezing, but cold enough to warrant a layer or two.

Damn, should’ve worn gloves, you internally cursed and shifted your grip on the box in your arms.

Within the parcel, as well as a tote digging into your shoulder, resided your surprise: a selection of bread rolls and freshly harvested fruits you’d picked up from your uncle’s farm the evening before. You knew that despite their confidence and reputation, most of the boys would still struggle to maintain a normal balanced diet and sleep schedule, so you decided to make sure they had no excuse to slack off. Hell, one of them had already proven you right.

As promised, you’d stayed up for a full two hours helping Atsumu, who now owed you boba, make some amount of progress on his schoolwork before falling asleep yourself an hour later. So, about three hours of sleep. Oh, and thanks to that slacker you’d also had no time to prepare the oranges and watermelon the night before, and you’d be roasted alive if you were caught making a commotion in the kitchen before the sun had even risen. No, it was much easier to just call it “club stuff” and complete your work in the gym’s office you shared with Coach Kurosu.

So here you were, lugging multiple pounds of food through campus while the sky had barely begun to light and the winter breeze lashed at your exposed skin.

“What am I even doing”, you grumbled to yourself through gritted teeth.

Finally you reached the gym doors and set down the load before catching your breath and blowing warm air into your cupped hands. Not wanting to deprive yourself of heat any longer, you pulled out the keyring Coach had given you earlier and moved to unlock the padlock before realizing there were only two keys on the ring, neither of which were for the gym lock.

You only had the key to the office.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” you exclaimed, yanking at the padlock. The office was connected directly to the gym, like the clubroom was, so no gym entry, no office entry.

Bouncing on the balls of your feet, partially from frustration and partially to keep yourself warm, you pulled out your phone and pulled the scarf you were wearing around the bottom half of your face like a mask.

You clicked off your phone and shoved your hands into your pockets, looking around in the vain hope that maybe Kita would come strolling by.

Great. Just great.

Well, it wasn’t the end of the world. Warming your hands with a breath once more, you set to work on preparing a makeshift fruit-prep area on the pavement, ignoring the thoughts of how much of an idiot you were for not realizing earlier that you were missing a key. It was only when you held the knife above the waiting watermelon (you figured you should do the difficult ones first) that you legitimately questioned your choices.

I could just go back home and bring the fruit tomorrow. You cast a wary glance at the mounds of waiting food, immediately dreading the idea of lugging it all back home. No, you already said that you would have a surprise today. Besides, this is supposed to go on for the whole week. Just be a good manager and suck it up.

With this new resolve, you brought down the knife expertly and began slicing. Before long the two watermelons were properly portioned and set aside, and you moved to the oranges. They were a true specialty of your uncle’s farm, and it just so happened to be the beginning of the perfect season for the fruit. A little bead of pride and excitement swelled in your gut as you pictured the faces of your teammates when they finally got to try them.

As the sky grew steadily lighter, your fingers too began to stiffen and tingle in the cold. Before long they’d be numb despite you constantly blowing warm air on them, making the chopping process slower and slower.

“Y/N?”

You immediately jumped at the soft voice that broke the silence of the past...hour? You had no idea how long it had been since you started. Looking to the source of the sound you saw none other than the team’s captain. His head tilted slightly to the side and his eyebrows were knit in a reserved look of confusion, looking expectant.

“Kita!” you quickly greeted him, as if nothing were out of the ordinary and you weren’t surrounded by a mass of fruit. With the greeting you jumped to your feet, only to have a knee momentarily buckle in protest after being in a crouched position so long. The flash of the knife in your hand immediately prompted you to set the knife back on the cutting board on the ground.

“Uh, surprise?” You mentally slapped yourself at the less-than-smooth recovery.

Kita’s eyes followed the movement carefully, then swept over the scene in apparent evaluation.

“How long have you been here?” he asked. The one question I don’t know the answer to.

“A little while,” you responded, deciding that wasn’t an untrue answer. It was strange. It wasn’t like you had been caught smoking or vandalizing or some other prohibited thing, so why did you feel so guilty?

“I, uh, meant to use the office but, well…” you trailed off as Kita pulled out a small metal keyring, similar to your own. He didn’t smile, but there was a kind look on his face as he approached and opened the doors that had kept you at bay.

“You’ll catch a cold staying out here so long,” he sighed, leaning over and hoisting your school bag over his shoulder and picking up the largest parcel before moving to stand expectantly in the doorway. “You're our manager, which means you’re part of the team too. We can’t have you falling ill.”

“Right,” you nodded after a moment of temporary shock, and began to gather up what was left. For some reason, you were suppressing a small smile. After you slung on the tote and carefully gripped the cutting board in your now numb red fingers, you approached where Kita was patiently waiting. You flashed him a small smile of gratitude to break the awkwardness, but a moment later his gaze drifted downward and his lips downturned into a small frown. His eyes widened the slightest bit as they fixed on where your hand held the cutting board.

“You’re bleeding,” he stated, his tone a bit too calm considering his words. You followed his gaze and sure enough one of the fingers you’d used to steady the fruit had a thin line of red. Apparently your fingers had gotten numb enough that you hadn’t felt the cut, not to mention the cold was turning your skin dry and red.

“Oh, I am,” you acknowledged with a nervous hollow laugh. “I guess the knife slipped at some point.” Tentatively, you flexed the finger. It was a shallow cut so the bleeding had already stopped, and the only discomfort came from the protest of your numb joints. As you brushed your other hand over it to inspect it further, a sharp pain shot through your hand and a small hiss escaped your lips.

Ah, the orange juice.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Kita tense when you flinched. In two quick steps he was in front of you, placing the box on the ground near your feet.

“It’s nothing, it’s not deep or anything,” you insisted, a bit startled at the sudden proximity. Kita held out his hand and paused.

“Can I see it?” he asked, his eyes carefully watching your own in gentle query. Somewhere in the back of your mind you remarked on how much lighter they were than you remembered.

You gave a conceding sigh and met his hand halfway with your own, nearly jumping at the warmth of his palm. Almost immediately he curled his fingers underneath yours to examine them in a delicate but sure grip. His eyebrows shot up at the touch.

“You’re freezing,” he commented. From the breathiness of his voice you assumed it was close to a gasp for him. His thumb traced around the wound. The warm contact sent a shiver through your body. You noticed the skin around it starting to turn red and irritated, likely from the cold and acidic liquid.

A moment later Kita pulled away and turned towards the gym doors, reaching out to give your arm a gentle pull.

“Come on, you need to warm up and get that taken care of,” he spoke matter-of-factly. It was a familiar tone that didn’t command, but simply stated the obvious truth, and it was useless to argue against. Suppressing a grumble, you allowed yourself to be guided into the gym by the captain.

“Do you have the key to the coach’s office?” Kita asked as we placed our things outside the door to the aforementioned office.

“Oh, yeah.” You pulled out the keyring from your pocket, giving it a jangle for emphasis. Kita held out a hand expectantly.

“Go to the bathroom and run warm water over your hands and clean out the cut,” he began at your questioning look. “Don’t come back until you have full feeling again.” Ah, that tone of his was back.

“Fine,” you sighed with a smile and dropped the keys into his waiting palm. Suddenly, a horrible thought dawned on you. “Oh, how long did I have that cut?! Some of the oranges might have gotten blood on them, the knife too!” With a groan you brought the heels of both of your hands to your temples, rubbing them in frustration.

“Y/N,” the captain’s quiet voice captured your attention after a few moments of silence. His expression was almost blank, with the downward quirk of his lip giving the only sign of disapproval. “Your priority right now should be taking care of yourself, not the oranges.”

“Ugh, sorry,” you grumbled, feeling rightly scolded. You knew you were acting like a child. “It’s just first the gym, and now this. Nothing seems to be going right for this stupid surprise.” Your sleep deprivation must’ve been getting to you as your eyes started to burn. No, no, don’t you dare cry over something like this!

“It’s not stupid.” Kita stated as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. You could only blink in response. His gaze travelled to where the fruits were piled up, seemingly in deep thought, before finding you once more. “And it’s not ruined either.”

“I...suppose not,” you said softly. His head tilted just slightly in consideration.

“I didn’t take you as someone to easily give up, either.”

You gave a thoughtful hum, a few moments later letting out a soft chuckle. He’s right. Somehow he was always right. There was a strange comfort in his words. He always spoke sincerely and straightforwardly, which was one of the reasons everyone held him in such high regard. To hear anyone else say an assessment like that might’ve normally come across as an attempt to console or fan your ego, but with Kita, it was just the truth. It was something he believed.

You didn’t care to suppress the smile that pulled at your lips this time.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you laughed, finally feeling warm again. “Thank you.”

Kita merely nodded as you turned to go, but you could’ve sworn that there was a ghost of a smile on his face too.

It took about ten minutes to fully warm your hands and thoroughly clean the cut. It wasn’t deep, but it happened to be just where the first joint of your index finger was. The skin stretched when you bent it, causing only mild discomfort. It was more of an inconvenience than anything else.

You were also able to check your phone. No messages from Suna, unsurprisingly, and it was almost half past five. Vaguely wondering why on earth Kita was here so early, you strolled back to the office, finding it open with the light on. The scene that greeted you, however, made you freeze in the doorway. Kita had cleared off a portion of the desk and arranged a professional looking setup for fruit preparation. He’d shed his outer layer and now stood over the cutting board with the sleeves of his sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows and latex gloves now adorning his hands. It seemed as though he’d already resumed work on the oranges, and the pleasant scent of citrus wafted to your nose.

You would’ve laughed at the amusing image had you not been equally shocked to see him there in the first place.

“Ah, Y/N, you’re back,” he greeted when he noticed you in the doorway. One after the other he removed the gloves, gesturing you to sit in the desk chair. Wordlessly you obliged.

“I’ve cleaned the knife and cutting board and checked over the other oranges, so there’s no need to worry about that,” he informed you as though reading off a list of chores.

“In ten minutes?” Your eyes widened in amazement. It seemed he really was capable of anything, though you cringed a bit when you realized he may have had to wash your blood off the utensils. As you lowered yourself into the chair you noticed an open first aid kit that Kita was now combing through.

“Hand,” he commanded, holding out his own with antiseptic in the other, apparently ignoring your inquiry.

“Oh, I can do it,” you insisted with a reassuring smile, reaching out for the tube. “Believe me, I’ve bandaged myself up from far worse than this.” The hand holding the tube retracted as Kita let out a deep sigh.

“Let me guess, you’re also going to try to stop me from cutting the rest of the fruit, too?” he guessed, quite accurately, with a small quirk of an eyebrow. Your smile faltered a bit and you brought back your outstretched hand. “I don’t doubt that you can bandage your wound, or that you can continue preparing the fruit with little difficulty, but you don’t have to push yourself. I’m offering my help because I want to.”

You stared at him again, trying to process his words. Out of instinct you almost muttered Are you sure? but you were also positive that Kita had already made up his mind. With a small nod, you placed the injured finger above his hand for him to take.

“Didn’t you say yourself I’m not one to give up easily?” you questioned as he went to work wrapping up your finger.

“Yeah, I did,” he affirmed, a recognizable spark of fondness in his eyes. “You fit the team well.” The warm feeling of Kita’s praise swelled in your chest once again.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled softly. “Though support from the sidelines is all I can do,” you sighed, your gaze fixating on the literal fruits of your labor.

“Do you think it’s insignificant?” he asked bluntly.

“No, not exactly,” you answered after a moment of thought. “I won’t deny that there’s times when I wish I could do more, but as long as I can do my best to help us fulfill our potential, well…”

“It makes it all worth it?” Kita’s quiet tone might’ve been imperceptible if you weren’t in a room alone in the last hour before dawn, but you heard him clearly. His hand had paused where it was wrapping your finger, and he caught your eye. Slowly, his cheeks lifted in a genuine, knowing smile. “I think I understand.”

The moment passed quickly, but you found the image of his expression burned into your mind.

“You put in just as much effort as everyone else.” Kita caught your eye again before focusing on wrapping the bandage and taping it up. “It doesn’t go unnoticed.”

He released your hand and stood up, allowing you to test out the expertly dressed finger. Satisfied, he readorned his gloves and began chopping the oranges, leaving you to ponder his words in a moment of comfortable silence.

Kita had always been a constant presence during your time on the team. Despite not being captain your first year, it had been him who had shown you the ropes of managerial duties. It wasn’t just for you either. Kita was the rock, reliable and strong, that kept the team together, though ever so quietly. It wouldn’t surprise you if he felt that he had a sideline role as well.

Eventually, the two of you fell into easy conversation. You told him about Suna, who you’d been neighbors and childhood friends since before middle school. He mentioned his grandmother, and you noticed the softness in his eyes return. You told him about your uncle’s farm, and even told him to try one of the orange slices, though he refused until he had finished his work.

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Part 2: "oops"

A/N: Whoaa title namedrop. Suna is NOT a morning person y'all. Also, yes I have cut myself while my hands were numb and didn’t realize it’s a thing. also also, this was originally a oneshot, which is why this part is so goddamn long.

Reply or send an ask to be added to the taglist (my reply will be from my main blog bc stupid tumblr rules)!

@therealwalmartjesus

#kita shinsuke #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #kita x reader #kita x you #smau #inarizaki #kita shinsuke x you #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu writing

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legostarwarsyodadeathscream · 3 years

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Not quite sure how original the thought is, but I think I came up with a way to make The Force Awakens not just a ln A New Hope clone. It’s real simple and really only requires two changes.

The first one is simple; change the opening planet (that Rey lives on) from Tatoonie 2: Jaku Boogaloo to Corescant.

Poe does the exact same shit, just instead of desert camp #65, it’s docking platform #69 which happens to be a resistance cell tasked with Intel gathering on the husk of the imperial throne world. While he’s talking with the old guy, BB8 is just vibing as per usual, noticing all the handy dandy maintanence batches that would be great for future escapes.

Then Kylo and the white boys rock up in their shuttle, slaughter everyone as per the original, and BB8 ditches through one of the aforementioned tunnels. Kylo and gang then rock back to their star destroyer vibing behind a moon or some shit. It’s been like thirty, fifty years. They can invent cloaking tech or smth. Doesn’t really matter.

Then we cut to Rey, still a tech scav working for fat guy, just this time the trade stall is in the middle of a lower floor. She still rips pieces from old imperial trash (cause imperial throne world) and she can still live in some decaying ATAT. Preferably one that pokes its head into a big exhaust shaft so she can get that scenic staring shot, but instead of a copied twin suns, it’s at the premise of natural light and clean air at all.

She then returns home to the second big change; a friend or two she works with. Who they are or what they do doesn’t really matter. What does is we establish Rey cares about them, and that, through accident, she leaves them behind, but promises herself to return to rescue them. This is important for later.

Shit happens as per original, with Boyega escaping with Poe (though this time Poe surviving makes a lot more sense and builds his abilities, cause he can later return in his built or “borrowed” ship). He finds Rey, they find droid, blah blah, but now when the white boys find them, finding the Falcon makes a lot more sense.

When Han lost the ship, it should not have been dumped on Samuri Jack- the Return Of Jaku, it should have been run to the busiest hub imaginable and returned to its original use; smuggling. With the opening now on Courscant, it makes sense when Rey and Boyega (Finn! Just remembered his name) stumble across and swipe it.

The movie can then continue as it did (with a moment where Rey marvels at space and light and shit, as well as makes that aforementioned promise)

End up at temple place with little orange lady. Death Star 3, the split pea fires, but now, as we watch corscant (never did find out if that’s what got dusted) get wasted blasted, WE CARE! Cause now we get a brief shot of Rey’s friends being turned into little crimson people char.

On temple planet, instead of Rey getting insta yoinked by MC Edgelord, she can instead feel the physic backlash of her close friends biting the dust, and this, while introducing her to the force (making her later power usage less Mary Sue-esque) also weakens her so Tall Dark And Dumb Saber design can insta catch her.

Then the rest of the movie can play out exactly the same, but now everything, at least in my eyes, fits better and has a touch more impact. While it is still SIMILAR to the original, it also takes its own risks and plays the universe more, making it unique while also playing things safe.

But yeah. Just was in a writing mood but couldn’t pick something and this popped into my head. Can’t really think of how best to save the rest of the trilogy, (aside from not playing director yo-yo with it) but yeah. Felt like with this two little changes, the first one would have bumped from a 6/10 to 7.5-8/10.

Personal preference though. Let me know what y’all think.

#star wars #the force awakens

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sukitaro · 3 years

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The Dawn of Midnight

It was approximately late afternoon to early evening on the northwestern end of Shishu, the sun’s warmth bathing the land in a soft heat. To the pleasure of those in the area, however, gentle winds carried the cool breeze of ocean water from the nearby coastline to keep the temperature and humidity comfortable even. The sky had gradually transitioned from it’s soft blue to a blue layered with the reddened clouds to mark the coming of sundown, the sun slowly sinking towards the ocean horizon.

A gorgeous array of cherry blossom trees stood as far as the eye could see, freshly bloomed to mark the arrival of springtime. The coastline winds sent an occasional petal fluttering to the grassy terrain below with blossoms backlit crimson due to the setting sun. There still remained ample room between cherry blossom trees for curious travelers or ijin hoping to experience trees native to Hingan lands.

Between the aforementioned pathways, two large figures trekked their way through the maze of cherry blossom trees, one in front of the other. One figure was an older Raen man, looking to be in his late 50’s and wearing a white haori. The Raen man behind him, appearing to be in his late 20’s, opted for a black happi and hakama pants. In parallel with the setting sun, the man’s eyes were a chilling orange, piercing the darkness with ease as he idly peered about the area. Despite his assumed youth in comparison to the Raen before him, he was a couple ilms taller in height. Slightly above average racially.

The older Raen gave the younger man a passing glance over his shoulder, addressing him in Hingan. <”You are quiet, Zenkoshi-chan. Pray tell your father that which weighs on your mind.”> He urged slowly with a lifted brow.

<”It’s hardly of importance, Kosuke-sama.”> Zenkoshi replied curtly, his spined tail swishing to and fro as he walked. He casted intermittent glances at the older Raen between observations of the general area, falling silent once more. Per custom for them, each Auri addressed the other by first name - family.

Kosuke knitted his brows, letting his stare linger a moment longer before he continued on, leading the pair between trees towards a small clearing in the distance. A little circle of land, cleared of any cherry blossom trees to make way for the circle of empty space. As they neared, Kosuke spoke up. <”Do you know why I’ve taken the pair of us to the island’s north, hmm? Rest assured, there will be no business lost in our absence for an evening. Profits are on the rise as they’ve been for some time and the Wakagashira’s confidence allows my mind to rest. If just for a moment.”> He spoke with a smile, oddly pleasant and soft of voice for a man so ingrained in the Hingan underworld. <”I’m hopeful you’ll learn something of importance here, my son.”>

Zenkoshi refrained from a timely reply, letting a silence sit in the air. <”Mmm. To teach patience and proper humility, perhaps?”> In contrast to his father, the younger man’s voice was removed from all emotion. A cold baritone. <”Wouldn’t be the first time.”>

<”Patience and humility are a must, blood of my blood, this is correct. You will take over the mantle of the Takaneda-gumi when my sun has set beneath the horizons. I wish for you to learn leadership skills in a proper manner. A given courtesy, from father to son.”> Kosuke assured him with a soft look, lingering momentarily before his focus turned back to the pathway.

Zenkoshi was silent.

After another few minutes of walking, the pair of Auri settled upon the circular clearing. Aside from the grassy ground and cherry blossoms surrounding the space, all that was to be noted of in the clearing was an upright stone, carefully flanked by a few others to keep it from toppling over unceremoniously. A few Hingan characters were carved into the stone, reading ‘Here lies my eternal light. May the Kami’s mercy carry you in your afterdays.’ Beneath this, a name in Hingan kanji. ‘Takaneda no Midori.’

Kosuke halted before the apparent makeshift tombstone, Zenkoshi settling in to his left. The older Raen spoke, a new somberness manifesting in his voice. <”I...came to understand that I’ve yet to bring you here, Zenkoshi-chan.”> Ignoring or simply not noticing the subtle eyebrow knit with each usage of that ‘honorific’. <“Your mother was taken from us prematurely, as I’m sure you’re aware of. A raging illness, per caretakers.”>

Zenkoshi stared at the tomestone intently, opting out of eye contact with his father, even as he spoke to him directly. A moment passed before he replied. <“Understood. A tragedy. She will be missed.”> Despite the heavy circumstance, his voice remained as is. Cold.

Kosuke slowly inhaled, turning to his son with tears forming rapidly. <“...I realize that we’ve butted heads often, my son. We are two of the same level of hotheadedness, and from this, we have clashed.”> Trailing off as a tear trailed down a scaled cheek. <“However, you are still my own. You will not be taken from me, and I will struggle until my world falls to darkness to see you fulfill your purpose. Whatever purpose that may be.”> Pausing to breathe in, breath shivering from his released emotion. It was clear he didn’t let that brand of sadness be shown often whatsoever, judging by how quickly he wiped the sadness from his expression after a moment longer. He wordlessly extended his arms out to the younger Raen. The offer of an embrace.

Listening with a rhythmically swishing of his tail, Zenkoshi faltered a moment as his father put forth the offer of a hug. <”...Now and forever, father.”> The younger Raen stepped forward, slipping his arms around the elder Raen with a tight embrace. He was still and without further words.

Kosuke dipped his head, giving an affectionate horn bump to his son as he spoke up. <”Thank you, my blood.”>

Only then, cunningly slipped out of sight in the sleeve of a happi, did Zenkoshi produce a kunai blade poised for the neck.

Without warning, Kosuke forced Zenkoshi back with a sudden gust of Aether-powered wind, launching a shattering haymaker for his son’s temple, unleashing a monstrous yell fueled by frustration and a rush of adrenaline. <”You honorless whelp!”>

Zenkoshi’s head snapped to the side violently as Kosuke’s haymaker crashed against his temple, forcing the younger Raen to stumble to the ground. He grinded his teeth together as a trickle of fresh blood seeped from a new gash, beginning the slow motions of pushing himself to his feet as another fist came flying for his nose. With a sickening crack, he was forced down yet again.

<”I should have known you would pull this nonsense again!”> Kosuke snarled, jamming an accusatory finger down at his son. <”You could never let it go! To think you would attempt over your mother’s grave…”> Throwing his free hand towards the makeshift tombstone, hands trembling with raw fury. <”Your poor self discipline is a smear on our name!”>

<”A smear on the name of a Hingan criminal family?”> Zenkoshi sneered, cupping a hand over his broken nose. Blood oozing from either nostril. <”You are soft. You are unfit to bring terror to the hearts of Kugane. I have been preparing for turns, and you would deny me the right to bring the masses of Kugane to their knees, old man?”> He, once again, went to shove himself to his feet successfully.

Kosuke roared, throwing a knuckled slug for the younger Auri’s ribcage, forcing him to bend over as another few snaps sounded on impact. With his free hand, he spiked an uppercut for the jaw, sending his son sprawling for the ground as his jaw fractured in a split moment. <”That is not for YOU to decide! You speak of collaborations with the filthy Garlean Empire! You would damn us all without a care in the world!”> Standing over his son with heaving breaths. Knuckles splattered lightly with blood.

Coughing wretchedly, Zenkoshi laid on the stained grasses and lifted his torso, only to be forced down with Kosuke’s sudden stomp onto his rib cage - right where he had a pair of now ruined ribs. Producing the mixture between a grunt and a groan of pain, Zenkoshi was spared a moment, clawing his way to his feet with a series of sharp gasps and teeth clenching. He stood now, hunched over with a hand flat on his abdomen. Each produced breath was pain. As such, he forced himself to slow his adrenaline-fueled hyperventilating. He was wordless.

The older Raen stood there, visibly seething at the audacity of his son. He allowed a silence to hang in the air, before speaking in a threatening growl. <”...And so, another attempt to steal the mantle of Oyabun. Wasted. I will not forgive this cowardice in so holy a location.”> Kosuke held up a finger.

Zenkoshi continued to hunch in his stance, head bowed. He said nothing.

Kosuke slowly lowered his finger, eying his son with knitted brows. <”You’ve nothing to say? Nothing at all?”> He inquired, stepping towards the younger Auri once.

Zenkoshi kept still. Then, he began to move. Shoulders bouncing softly in a show of quiet laughter while keeping his eyes clamped shut. His fingers crooked inward, clutching at his fractured rib cage as his lips curled back, revealing his full rows of teeth - elongated fangs included. Blood continued to flow.

<”You think this to be a laughing matter, boy?”> Kosuke exclaimed, taking another step towards his son.

In response, Zenkoshi abruptly halted his quiet laughter on command. Opening his eyes, he slowly panned his stare to his father. As his father’s features froze entirely, Zenkoshi spoke.

<”We are fragile no longer.”>

Then, chaos.

With a panicked scream, Kosuke was launched backwards by an unknown force, nearly splintering a cherry blossom tree from the base on merciless impact. A rogue outcropping ripped through the man’s body dangerously close to his spinal area, producing a ghastly exhaling. He collapsed onto knees and elbows, ripping into the grasses as he attempted to lift himself. Almost immediately, he crumbled back down with a bellow. His spine was not having it after that throw.

Zenkoshi advanced, standing at his full potential. Eyes wide. Teeth gleaming. Tail lashing. Prepared. Calculating.

As Kosuke lifted his head to address his son, the man’s face was drained of all color. His body, previously rippling with a dominant display of hardened confidence, was reduced to a quivering mess. When he spoke, his words escaped as a breathless plea to understand.

<”Midori-chan...what have we brought into this world?”>

Fangs poised to strike, and then, all was dark.

#ffxiv roleplay

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thegreencircleone · 4 years

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A Belated 10/10 Story

The Girl from Out of Town.

((Eloni gets hit on/hits on someone.))

October 10th, 9 pm. Officially 1010’s 6th birthday.

It was between a few big events; but honestly from looking at Eloni, the green Android, one could not tell. October 10th was a big night for 1010, but it was one of Eloni’s favorite nights in general (apart from maybe new-years)... Even now he wandered to-and-fro speaking with guests, introducing himself, even pairing people off with other dancers.

A robot’s job was never truly done, but Eloni lived for this! 1010 loved to party, but Eloni in particular loved THIS party. He loved the formal wear, the excuse to get gussied up, the copious amounts of booze and alcohol, the exorbitant amount of food (though he couldn’t enjoy it). Right now he was waiting primarily for the game of croquembouche jenda- but as he did so he scanned the room for any negative or alarming emotions.

… And that is exactly what he found.

Bar.

Eloni slowly maneuvered his way in between throngs of party-goers toward the bar; his vision of the emotions causing the disturbance to his radar began to ping more completely. Anger was brewing loudly at the bar, though the cause remained a mystery. There was no fight, no arguing that he could detect; it seemed like the barely contained rage was simply stewing there on it’s own…

And then it’s source came into view.

At the bar sat a woman with vibrant yellow skin, brownish hair with streaks of medium blond curled into a loose, low, and messy bun at her neck. Her jewelry was simple and ornate, but hung close to her body aside from her sequined headband and row of pearls that hung in a knot all the way down to her navel, and her dress was an old-fashioned tabard-style dress of white and sequined gold and copper. She looked less like a party-goer, and more like a run-away or jilted bride.

She was stunning, even if you didn’t have a thing for the art-deco look… Or her pretty, pissy face as she slowly sipped whatever drink she had in that martini glass. This mystery woman also did not look like she was a typical party-guest for the 1010 crowd.

Eloni needed to intervene.

And that’s just what he was going to do.

Eloni slid up to the bar-stool right beside her. “You know;” he began with an earnest grin. “I thought the Captain turned off the time-machine before the party.”

The mystery woman stopped, looked up at him and gave him a dubious scowl. For a moment they stared at each other in mutual silence as the heartbeat of the EDM around them did some of the talking for them.

She locked eyes with her as she took a pointed sip from her glass as he started to continue.

“Hey. Name’s Elo-” but the Android stopped his sentence half-way through as he realized something much more interesting to talk about. “Oh wow. Your eyes are pretty.”

The woman continued to sip her drink, this time her brows knit in confusion. Beneath fluttering, heavily eye-lined lashes and golden eye-shadowed lids lay a set of perfectly vibrant emerald eyes- with a ring of ultra-light purple around her pupils.

Finally, she spoke. “That’s it?” she asked. “... I thought y’were some sorta robo-casanova. You pick up most skirts like this?”

Eloni was flabbergasted.

“I mean- I…” he blinked as he tried to unpack what all the heck she just said. “Oh. OH, no. I’m not- I’m not a lady-killer. That’s uh- that’d be my brother. He’s… Uh…” Eloni felt his shoulders ride up in awkward embarrassment as he gestured elsewhere. “I just… Uh. I didn’t greet you as you came in and you seemed really mad, and I thought I’d come over to… You know?”

“Shoot the shit?”

“... Help?” Eloni offered, smiling. “What are you drinking? Where are you from? You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

From where he sat the woman’s ire retreated noticeably. She was still angry, but now she was more… Uncomfortable than angry. Well… No. Mostly angry… She just wasn’t the rage-filled time-bomb waiting to go off.

She looked back to Eloni, who by now was leaning halfway over the bar, trying his best to be suave. He thought for a moment that her anger retreated entirely-- and then the rage was back.

She let out an audible noise, crossed her legs the opposite direction from him and returned to her drink. “One; if this is your attempt to get me to say by boozin’ me up; don’t bother. It’s lemonade, sugar. Two; you just insulted my dress. Why the heck’d I’d tell ya where I’m from?”

Eloni sat up. “What? Nooo. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to insult your-” he gave her a once-over again. 1010 wasn’t really programmed to oggle fans, at least not discriminate, but Eloni still found her sense of style utterly different and definitely worth looking at. The dress, be it old-fashioned definitely fit her pretty well, and upon closer inspection it wasn’t white; but a very pale yellow. She looked and talked like a gangsters wife from some of those old mob movies.

“My eyes are up here, birthday boy.”

“Sorry!” he said on instinct.

The mystery woman turned around in her seat and finally looked at him again. “Don’t’cha have some fan to flirt with?” she asked. “Doubtless this is comfortable for you.”

Eloni smiled a little more. “Try me! My prime directive is to make sure all our fans have a good time at our birthday party!... Annnnd you seem dead-set on being pissed.”

The woman gave him a disbelieving look and crossed her arms, letting her drink sit on the counter empty. “Butter my scotch n’ call me in the mornin’, you ain’t gunna give up on this, are ya?”

“I’m programmed to make people smile!” Eloni insisted, sitting up straight and giving a little, informal salute. “Noooo frowns on my birthday!”

“Uh-huh…”

Eloni relaxed and leaned a little closer to her. “So, seriously baby. If I’m bothering you; I can always get one of my brothers. I’m not the popular one, but you say the word! All I want is a smile from you, and it’d be the best birthday gift.”

“Ppft,” the woman dismissed, but then she got a little quiet. “... No offense…” she said quietly. “... I’m flattered, but, seriously. You should go try to flirt with one of your fans, okay?” she asked. “It’s sweet you’re trying to make me feel better, but it’s not going to do much for me.”

“SiiiiSTER!” came a bombastic voice from right behind them. “Sister, I have procured the caviar and blinnies! You are correct! They are-” Eloni turned around to see a man with long, straight blond hair with stripes of green, but the strangest thing about this man was not his hair- but the goggles worn on his face.

The moment that Eloni saw the man seemed to be the moment the man saw him in return. There he stood, knees slightly bent with two plates filled with the aforementioned hors d'oeuvres on little plastic plates.

“OH. A 1010!... I will- uhh… I’ll just.”

“Zeebs, it’s fine…” the woman said, turning around and sliding off. “We were just going anyway.”

Eloni spun to follow her with his eyes. He should have just dropped it- everything in his code should have told him to stop his pursuit of this faraway, foul-mouthed, foreigner… But it was his birthday, dang it.

“You know; it’s rude to come to the party and ignore the birthday-boy!”

The pair stopped. The man with the goggles; (Zeebs wasn’t it?) turned around and let out a low and singular laugh. “It’s rude to harass a troubled woman! You don’t see her complaining!”

The woman held up her hand to her companion, then glared back at Eloni. “Well, kill me softly with his song- for an NSR goon ya don’t give up, do ya?”

Oh! That was a musical reference… Actually it was two. The comment on being an NSR goon was a bit befuddling for a moment, but figured it had been because she plainly was not from Vinyl city.

Eloni saw her irritation flare, but all he could do was smile. By now their interaction had proven to become interesting to the people around them. “1010 never surrenders,” he recited.

The two unknown party guests stopped and seemed to survey the situation. Zeebs glanced around a little more frantically than his sister whose interesting gaze settled back onto the green android after a moment. “Oh my goood… What. Do. You. WANT from me? A smile?” she asked, not at all afraid to show she was still mad. “‘Cause I’ll have y’know: I have a reason why I’m absolutely livid!”

“Sister… Ix-nay on the Ad-may…”

“Fuggit. We’re already here,” the woman said back at him. “Go on, birthday boy. What’ll it take for you to let me skip town in peace?”

Eloni stood up, stretching out to his ten foot height. “If you weren’t here for my birthday; you should have made an appointment!” he chided, watching the face of this mystery-woman’s flinch with embarrassment. “Tonight’s my night! A night to pAaRrTty~” he hummed musically. “What sort of party would it be without dancing?”

The woman paused, her face still scrunched in disbelief before she turned to her brother. “... Hold my purse,” she instructed softly, turning back to Eloni with a little stomp. “Alright, soldier-boy,” she said lifting a finger up at his face… From allllll the way down there. At least five feet down. “You get ONE. Dance. After that, and I’m gone. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

Eloni studied her emotions for a moment. She was still… Mad, but she was almost acting comically pissy. To liken it to something easier to explain- if red was anger and yellow was happiness, then her emotions teetered on a pale orange. She was just as happy to be pursued as she was angry it was him.

Eloni leaned down. “Sure, baby. I can make one dance count.”

There came a tart snort from the woman below him. “Oh,” she laughed… Then slowly her anger receded a little more. “Oh. I’m gunna fucking run you into the ground, you sentient lamp-post.”

It was a threat. It was playful. It was a challenge… It tickled him.

Eloni let out an equally incredulous laugh. “Can you even… Dance in that thing?” he asked, taking in the nearly floor-length gown.

But surprisingly the woman forced a smile, grabbed Eloni by his suit jacket and started dragging him off to the dance floor. “Quit talkin’. Move ya gams.”

Eloni let out another chuckle as he watched the woman drag him out to the dance floor. The anger was practically no longer there. Only tracings remained; but emotions didn’t necessarily just stop because you had moved on: they lingered. This stranger had some fight back in her, but it seemed she was enjoying this more than not.

“So aggressive, baby~”

The woman looked back up at him. “Don’t call me ‘baby’, sugar.”

“Don’t call me ‘sugar’, doll.”

“Don’t call me ‘doll’, either.” By the time Eloni was dragged back into the dancing fray the woman had turned around and snapped to, heels he hadn’t had the chance to see snapping to as she readied herself. “You swing, darling?”

Oh. Oh he didn’t entirely know how to respond to that.

“... I’ll take that as a-”

“I’ll match whatever you put out, ma’am,” he finally pushed out.

The woman finally seemed to regard him for a second, before shrugging, not looking at him straight in the face. “Mm. We’ll work on it,” she said, stepping close. “Ever dance with a partner?.... And I don’t suppose you can use your super robot powers to play a good swing number?”

Eloni…Wasn’t entirely sure what happened after that. All he did was look up towards the DJ booth where Subatomic was playing his fair share of music and sent in a request, message hurried and likely missing a few vowels. He didn’t care.

“... So, uh,” Eloni started. “Uh, I’m sorry. I’m not normally this brave…” he said. “Or. Uh this pushy…”

The woman cocked her hips and shimmied a bit closer. “It’s your birthday,” she excused. “... And it was kinda rude of me to stop and not say hi, at least, so. Two-fer-two, darling.”

Eloni blinked again as DJ came through- birthday boy requests were high on the chain of command. Soon the sound of electric-pumped ragtimey-toons pounded through the air… That’s when it was all a blur.

1010 was designed to dance, yeah, but new dances took a lot of concentration and coding on the part of the Droids AI. Eloni and his brothers were great with their dance routines, but sometimes their personal dancing skills were hit-or-miss… Even then Eloni liked to think his long legs would hit those swing-high kicks; but he was nothing on this woman. Sheer fabric and high-heels were competing with him faster than he had ever seen…It wasn’t a quarter into the dance that his lead was entirely taken over by her.

It was a situation he had no idea was coming; a woman half his size beating him at dancing. A HUMAN woman practically running him into the ground… It was a lot, it was an endless barrage of legs and shimmies…

It was pretty great.

Just as soon as the song had started; it had ended, Eloni was practically bent over and the mystery woman was done. Off she trotted in her high-heels to re-join her worried looking brother with a completely enraptured Eloni to follow her.

“W-wait. What’s your-” but before Eloni could finish the question or even grab her attention- he felt his hydraulic knee buckle- and land him square onto a nearby table.

Plasticware and plates flew to the floor and Eloni struggled to keep his holographic head above a pool of spilled rose and champagne. When people rushed him to see what was wrong he gazed around.

The Mystery Woman and her brother were gone.... Well. At least he made her smile!

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owlisreading · 5 years

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I read the Beastars manga

I found out about Beastars first when the anime was announced. I started reading the manga on oct 23 and managed to binged it for two days. And let me tell you the story exceeded my expectations. There’s romance, societal problems, gangsters and an entire culture. This has become one of my favorite mangas of all time, I can’t believe I found it so late. It’s so unique by itself and is a breathe of fresh air. I hope people would give it a chance and not take it as just a “story about furries” at face value.

Further Discussion:

Legosi and his realized fetish for herbivores

I’m not entirely against it. His good intentions and determination to fight is based on his inner obsession for herbivores. So far there’s nothing really to go against him for this aside from the thought that all he has done is just to feed his ego. But he’s also aware of that. I don’t think it’s just his fetish for herbivores, he’s really a good guy deep down. Aside from that, Legosi is just a precious cinnamon bun and an ernest boy.

Legosi and Haru

I think they’re a pretty cute pair. It did upset me when it was implied that he only liked her because she was the first herbivore when his obsession started. Anyway, I like how Legosi respects Haru’s past and didn’t judge her and just really, really cares about her. I will admit that the intensity of their bond is equal to the bond between Legosi and Louis. Yes, I like the idea of Legosi and Louis together.

Haru

Compared to usual female protagonists, she’s a (dubbed) “slut”. I wouldn’t call her that, but she does sleep around and isn’t apologetic about it (she did stop when she dated Legosi). When her circumanstance for this was explained, I felt sad for her but also respect that she is accepting of her nature. I hate that Sc*mboli Reviews called her a thot and nothing else, she’s a girl who is honest and strong. It’s good that she’s with Legosi.

Legosi, Haru & Louis love triangle

I’m confused about the transition between relationships. First, Haru and Louis were together, they were dating but their relationship isn’t entirely serious? And when Louis disappeared, they didn’t break up per se but then Haru entered the courting stage with Legosi. And now Haru and Legosi are exclusively dating. I’m not sure if I got it right. Bah my real question was if Haru and Louis had agreed that their relationship wasn’t going to last.

The World Building

Unlike Zootopia, Beastars’s speciesism isn’t based on our reality. The carni-herbi racism mindset isn’t the only one because in the culture for sea creatures, death is a much more acceptable concept. There’s also the basic manners established in it’s society e.g. bigger animals should let smaller ones cross first, tiny animals should walk by the wall to avoid being crushes and carnivores shouldn’t bare their fangs and claws, etc. Animals pride on the products they supply like that one chapter about the chicken Legom. Bears over 2meters should take pills that decrease body mass. There’s also Seaspeak, an entire language for sea creatures. The existence of the Back Alley Market is illegal but in a way balances the environment. Details like this keep me immersed, I commend the author for adding them.

Anime and it’s CGI

When the teaser was shown, I was at first skeptical because of previous adaptations (e.g. Berserk) but the studio was Orange and their previous works in CGI were amazing. Then the anime was released, I haven’t seen it because it’s currently exclusive for Japan and I promised myself I would support it by watching it on Netflix and not on pirate sites so that Netflix would count my view and add it to its statistics if they should order another season. Based on the clips and even the cute OP, I will say the details are great. Another masterpiece by Orange. Even if I notice some flaws in the rendering when I do get to watch it, it won’t matter because the story will outshine that problem.

Itagaki Paru and Furries

Some say the manga is for Furries, I agree but I don’t think it’s exclusively for them nor was it dedicated to them. In an interview inserted after one of the chapters, the mangaka said she just loves drawing animals so much that if she drew humans she’ll unconsciously give them animal characteristics. She’s obsessed with animals since she was young and was inspired by Disney.

Some say she’s a furry because she wears a chicken head mascot as seen on photos But almost all mangakas try to hide their identity (heck even their genders) during interviews or photoshoots. Even the photo used on the aforementioned interview, she covered her face with a book. But Mangaupdates does have a photo where her face is seen.

Just because of all these subtexts doesn’t mean she’s surely a furry. Nothing against furries but I just don’t like it when people decide it as a fact (just like how many have said that the KnY mangaka is female like it’s a fact, when the author never disclosed that for personal reasons).

#beastars #manga #review

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amys-snapshots · 4 years

Note

All of them for Cail 👀 fight me.

Yo 💀 This took ages, lol. But, I suppose I should thank ya because my mans has been somewhat of a mystery unintentionally.

1. Who do they look up to?

Cailean’s always aspired to be like his father: a good, honest, hard-working family man. So the obvious answer is his father.

2. Who do they look to for guidance?

Because his father has passed away, his mother. He also occasionally seeks counsel from his friends like Gus or Chad, and more recently, Aislyn. But if he still could, he’d go to his dad.

3. What would it take for them to betray the person they love?

Absolutely nothing. It’s not in Cailean’s nature to betray. Ironically, he himself has been betrayed by someone he loved, and had quite a tough time. It’s why he feels very strongly about secrets and lies.

4. Who is someone they’ve hurt?

My mans is a boy scout. He cherishes his relationships, romantic or otherwise, and is quick to apologize if he feels he’s done something wrong. He does, however, have a bad habit of cutting people out of his life if they’ve crossed him. And though those people deserve it, the action may have hurt them.

5. What is a secret that they have?

This would be considered a spoiler if I didn’t already mention it on here, but on the night Cailean’s father passed away they got into a fight. Cailean said something he regrets to him, and no one, not even his mother, knows about that whole situation. It’s something he’s ashamed of.

6. Would they trust anyone with their secret?

Yes; since it’s something that eats away at Cailean in the back of his mind, he wants to get it off of his chest eventually. And if/when he does, it will most likely be to the woman he loves - once that wall currently between them comes down.

7. Any family scandals? Does your character know about them?

Sort of. As his mother, Daphne, is the current police commissioner, there was an incident in which a newscaster did a piece accusing Mrs. DeCarlo of corruption. Cailean, and the rest of the town, were well aware of it, though it was ultimately unfounded.

8. Is there anyone that they currently aren’t speaking to? Why?

Yes. His ex-girlfriend, because of the aforementioned betrayal. What exactly it is that she did shall come up at a later time.

9. What is something that would break them emotionally?

If he were to tragically lose his mother as he had his dad. Cailean’s an only child, and as most of his relatives live out of the country, he’d feel quite lonely. Because his mother’s line of work is so dangerous, the thought is something that sadly crosses his mind from time to time.

10. Sacrifice the one to save many, or save the one no matter the cost?

Because a lot of the people in Cailean’s life are extremely selfless, he’d probably feel compelled to do whatever it takes for them because he knows they wouldn’t do so for themselves. So he’d save the one, no matter the cost.

11. Do they have any illnesses?

Nope.

12. What is the fastest way to upset them?

Lie. So ironic considering who he’s dating, I know.

13. What is something that makes them uncomfortable?

Cailean’s pretty comfortable discussing everything; he doesn’t shy away from discussing aspirations and fears. The only thing that causes him to tense up are a handful of specific incidents involving his parents; his father’s accident and mother’s scandal being some of them. He won’t flat out refuse to discuss them, but he will be initially uncomfortable at the conversation before relaxing the longer he talks.

14. What is something that never fails to make them excited?

Whether it be a new piece of equipment, or a new scenic location he can take photos in, anything related to photography will put Cailean in very high spirits.

15. Have they ever had their hair washed by another person?

As his buddy Chad is a hair stylist, he’s had his hair washed, cut, and styled for him before. He doesn’t experiment much with his look though.

16. What is the most romantic thing someone has done for them?

Recently, Aislyn took it upon herself to surprise him for his birthday and Valentine’s Day. She made him a home cooked meal, they watched a movie, and he received several gifts. Cailean doesn’t care much for overly grandiose, expensive, gestures, and finds meaning in the littlest of things so suffice to say, he was very touched.

17. Who is their favorite person(s) to spend time with?

Aislyn. Despite her rather frustrating tendencies, they have a lot of common interests which makes their conversations often lengthy and always enjoyable.

18. Neck kisses or shoulder kisses?

Neck kisses.

19. How do they feel about public displays of affection?

Cailean doesn’t mind or shy away from them. He won’t hesitate to reach for a hand, or go in for a kiss towards whomever he’s dating, regardless of who’s around or where they are.

20. Would they be the one to propose, the one hoping for a proposal, or no interest in marriage/the equivalent thereof?

Cailean’s very into the prospect of getting married and having a family. Once he feels he, and his partner, are at a place where they’re ready for it, he won’t hesitate to propose.

21. Do they prefer giving or receiving gifts?

Giving. Aside from birthday presents, Cailean’s quite bashful about receiving things, especially if he feels he hasn’t done anything to deserve it. On the other hand, he’s quick to buy things for others. He often thinks of his friends and family, and tends to buy things he knows they’d like, or things that just remind him of them.

22. How indecisive are they?

Not at all; he knows what he wants and what he likes.

23. What do they want most in life?

A family, and to be a father. He’d love to have a lot of kids - if his future wife is capable and on board, of course.

24. What do they think they’re good at, but aren’t?

Cailean’s very self-aware. He knows his strengths and weaknesses, and doesn’t pretend to be confident in something he knows he’s no good at.

25. What is something they think they’re bad at, but are actually pretty competent at?

Painting. Because Cailean takes so many pictures of real life settings, he thinks his paintings pale in comparison to nature’s beauty, but in reality, he’s not that bad.

26. What is something they’re legitimately bad at?

Anything music-related, whether it be remembering lyrics, playing an instrument or singing, he’s very aware that he’s not a musician by any means. Except for dancing, that he’s alright at.

27. Do they have any cool scar stories?

Nah, his body is bare, lol.

28. When left to their own devices, how would they spend a free day?

On a free day, Cailean would tinker with his camera, pack a picnic basket, invite out his girlfriend, and go out to a remote location with a pretty view or landscape. He’d spend the day photographing her, the scenery, and the changing sky.

29. What do they do to relax?

To unwind he’ll read a novel, or eat sweets.

30. What is their ideal sleeping situation?

On his side, preferably being big spoon, hehe.

31. Do they have a comfort food?

Cailean has a sweet tooth, so he enjoys anything warm and rich. He’d particularly enjoy chocolate pecan pie with vanilla bean ice cream.

32. What is their favorite thing to drink?

As he is Italiano, the obvious answer is coffee in various forms.

33. Do they have a signature accessory?

As of now, no.

34. How do they generally wear their hair?

On the longer side, but short of being considered medium length. At home he lets it hang loose, and at work or on a day out, he styles it back with some pomade.

35. What color would they paint their nails?

As he is a guy, he doesn’t - not to reinforce gender norms - but if he did, he’d probably put something blue like the sky and ocean he enjoys looking at so much.

36. Are there any holidays or celebrations they dislike?

Nope, the DeCarlos are all about family time and celebrations.

37. Are there any holidays or celebrations that they go all in for?

Thanksgiving. Cailean’s father has passed his culinary skills onto him, so you can expect him to prepare quite a colorful, flavorful, plentiful feast.

38. How would you describe their decorating sense?

Very rustic. Lots of wood and warm tones like orange, gold, brown and cream. Expect lots of lights, plants and paintings, as well as photographs taken by Cailean himself.

39. Would they rather have a picnic in the woods or a picnic on the beach

Cailean loves his trees and his oceans equally, so the winner will be the woods by a very slim margin because of the less populated setting; he enjoys some peace and quiet.

40. Blanket fort or tree house?

Tree house.

#thanks for the ask!#by question 24 i was ready to fight tho #i'm surprised to see you didn't go with J #but then again most of my answers would be spoilers and or redacted lol #asks

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hermannsthumb · 5 years

Note

could you possibly do a combo of 7 and 15? I think that'd be really sweet

7. Cherry blossoms and 15. Tea

from spring fic prompts meme here

IT WOULD BE SWEET!!! I AGREE...inspired by my own trip to DC last month to see the cherry blossoms there :)

“Not a lot of space to sit, is there?” Hermann says. “Oh. Is she meant to be doing that?”

“Probably not,” Newt says.

Together, they watch as a young girl in bright green shorts attempts to climb the trunk of one of the trees that curves conveniently low. She falls to the dirt twice before she manages to finally latch one hand around a branch. “I used to be great at climbing trees,” Newt says. He smooths out one edge of their picnic blanket, which is really just an ancient throw blanket appropriated from the equally ancient lab couch, and begins to unpack their cliche wicker basket. “I think I got a Boy Scout patch for it and everything.”

“Did you really?” Hermann says. He seems strangely interested. Newt forgets, sometimes, that he’d grown up as little more than a lonely farmboy, and that any stories Newt has of his aforementioned Boy Scout days, or of little league softball (quit after a week), or school dances (spent lurking awkwardly in the corners on his Tamagotchi) or any other cliche shit along those lines probably sound like wildly exciting experiences.

Newt’s actually pretty sure he made the patch himself in an act of passive-aggressiveness after he’d been kicked out of the local troupe for climbing a quote-unquote dangerous pine tree he’d been told to stay away from during a weekend camping trip. He didn’t...well, get along with the other Boy Scouts. He was the weird foreign kid, after all, fresh in America, and he hadn’t lost his German accent yet. Or hit his growth spurt yet. Or discovered how to successfully make friends yet. Newt’s only successfully completed one of the three. Two, if Hermann counted as a friend, but they’ve kind of glossed right over that relationship tier multiple times at this point.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says anyway. Idly, he wonders if he could convince Hermann to let Newt take him out on the water in one of those dumb swan-shaped paddle boats before they leave. Hermann wouldn’t have to do anything. Just sit back and relax and let Newt do the work. It’d probably end badly, though: Newt tried to take Hermann out for a romantic boat ride on the pond near his childhood home last year, and ended up losing both oars when a creepy-looking fish swam by and startled him. Hermann wasn’t happy.

Newt digs around in the basket a little more--pushing aside cloth napkins, several oranges, and leftover cake they planned to split for dessert in Tupperware--before sighing in defeat. “I forgot to pack the rolls, dude.”

Hermann tsks. “I left them out on the counter for you,” he says, pausing in removing his ridiculously wide-brimmed sunhat just to level a Look at Newt, “right next to the microwave--”

“I got distracted,” Newt says. “No worries. We’ve still got this--” He holds up the jar of almond butter, “--and this.” He holds a spoon.

Hermann makes a face and reaches for the jug of iced tea instead. Whatever. Newt’s caught him helping himself the Nutella with just his fingers in the dead of night before, and that’s way grosser than sharing a dumb spoon.

The little girl starts climbing up the tree again (where are her parents, anyway?), flower petals raining down as the branches shake wildly. It actually creates a sight that’s almost romantic at first, and Newt wants to capture it in a picture--Hermann, dressed for the spring in just linen pants and a thin shirt (collar unbuttoned), limbs in a languid sprawl on the blanket, tilting his head to gaze up at the small cascade of pink--and then it becomes less romantic, because a lot of the petals land directly in Newt’s freshly opened almond butter.

“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” Newt declares, peering down at them. He wonders if they taste as good as they smell. Probably not. He looks up to complain at Hermann, but realizes several of the petals have also gotten caught in the short strands of Hermann’s hair.

And, well. It’s cute.

Newt smiles. “Hey. You have--”

“Hm?” Hermann swallows a mouthful of tea.

Newt tosses the jar aside (let the squirrels have it) and reaches over to pick out a petal. He shows it to Hermann. “These in your hair.” He scoots forward on his knees and pulls out a few more, but Hermann stops him with a careful hand to his chest. Newt sits back.

“I don’t mind it,” Hermann says. He returns the smile tentatively. “You have them in yours, too. I think they’re sweet.”

(He changes his tune when he realizes they’ve also landed in his tea.)

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #u can decide when and where this is set. interactive fanfic!#Anonymous

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johnskleats · 5 years

Text

Beautiful Fool

That Great Gatsby!Merther AU, ya’ll.

@the-once-and-future-love @arthur-of-the-pendragons @the-fated-dragoness @pretty-pendragon

He had only wanted a little space to himself. That was natural enough, Gaius had said, provided he be mindful to keep sharp whilst on holiday. Privacy was recipe for secrets, his mother had said, get too used to it and risk a doomed marriage. What his uncle failed to understand was that this was not, in fact, a holiday, and his mother, bless her, would have to come to terms with his preferences. Whomever he found as a companion, eventually, would favor a similar life to his- that was what made a household, after all -harmony. “Find a woman who hates flowers,” he had jested, “and lake houses, and sunsets.” Merlin had been grinning. His mother had not. “Specifically task her to woo me, see if I give it up.”

“Give what up, Merlin,” mother had sighed.

He had only gotten so far as opening his mouth before Gaius boxed his ears in scolding. Mother fussed over supper. Merlin set the table. All was as it had always been in their little house on the corner, only in his room, there was a suitcase by the door, and the drawers were empty, and nothing was as it had been, really, at all.

And now he was home, where a new always would forge itself. Even as he had told mother to her bleary-eyed face that he would visit often and call yet more, Gaius had watched the lie weave through his lips as it was spun. His brow had been stern, but understanding. As always, he neglected to stop him spouting words that dug graves; Merlin couldn't blame him, as whatever came to him, he would probably deserve in one way or another. Yet, here he was: Camelot Isle, renting out a minuscule gardener's cottage that overlooked the harbor. His backyard, backwoods rather, lead into the gardens and courtyards of the looming mansion next door, Pendragon House, the full and dreary history of which he had gotten in his tenancy letter. Merlin had skimmed it. As his personal contract with the cottage was in no way connected to Pendragon House, originally servant's quarters or not, he had no interest or attachment to its grounds whatsoever. Because he lived here, he preferred not to be treated as a tourist, though the thought crossed his mind that the rent was fixed where it was for a purpose. The possibility of poor neighbors hadn’t crossed his mind. Between himself and whomever occupied the mansion, they had the isle to themselves; whatever it was that rendered his house so cheap couldn’t be so bad.

Merlin, on the porch of his new-to-him, two-room-with-a-bathroom-and-a-patio house, drank in the character of his little abode through a lens of intentional whimsy. It had windchimes nailed to the wood frame of the awning, bits of Cola bottles and seaglass turned in the lake and hung up with cord. The step into the living room and kitchen area was high and gnarled, and in his rounds about, Merlin had tripped on it no less than three times; his bedroom, the aforementioned second room of the two-room-with-a-bathroom-and-a-patio house, was a splotched lavender color, unevenly applied rose wallpaper fading and peeling away at cracks in the corners of the walls. His favorite part of the bedroom was probably the curtains, orange and visible, with their thick plumes of dust and heavy shadow. They were hideous. They were his.

Between his house and his neighbor's stood a dock leading out to a pier, at the end of which was a signalling bell. It was here that Merlin’s attention was drawn when with a peal of joy, the bell, chimed with the wind, his permanent glass fixtures tinkling with it and all the leaves sounding applause through the boughs of the canopy. A chill cut through him, and Merlin retreated inside to weather the surely impending storm. Awaiting him was a house of his own, just as cramped as his mother’s and far less comfortable, made sweeter and more welcoming by the name on the lease.

Merlin was a third of the way through chipping the grime from his stovetop when the first cracks of thunder rent the air. He jolted in surprise, butter knife clattering to the tile, and, shakily, took up his task again. The sound of pouring rain had deafened him to all other stimuli, and the sense of exposure rattled his bones. With the panes trembling in their frames and shutters fluttering, clamoring against the sides of the house along with the waving branches and pelting rain, wind whistling through the waterspout with the gush of overflow, he felt swallowed inside a void. The house was empty, save for himself. A new always, he supposed, being safe, unscathed, while simultaneously so utterly immersed in what his mother lovingly referred to as trouble. It filled him to the brim with the kind of excitement that makes boys leap from cliff faces to the sea, the kind of adrenaline that demands to know whether or not he could make the jump. The chaos scraped at his safehouse as the wall of his own skin, itching. It called to him like a siren song and, oddly, his heart ached. Merlin had longed to be alone, but the magic had followed him anyway.

Forlorn, he closed again the beaten shudders.

--Merlin opened them again.

There, in the earth driveway leading up to his neighbor's abode, was a car, the likes of which Merlin had only ever seen on magazine covers in stores. Yellow, canary yellow like rain slickers, yellow like bananas and technicolor and his mother's good dress stared back at him, obscured by black mud and torrents of water coursing along the body of metal. Outside the vehicle was a man of equally astounding quality, although less from the fact that he was soaked through to his designer shoes with water-dark hair in his eyes, and more so that he stood outside apparently his car, mixing himself in what was about to be ankle-deep mud. The moment Merlin had registered that the man was trying to push it out of its rut to no avail happened to be the same moment that the man had given up, throwing up his hands and kicking at the white-faced wheels with petulant abandon. The car wasn't hooded, rather open, actually, and the man looked away, paced, fumed as it rapidly took up water. Much longer in the road, which was flooding quickly, and the vehicle may not be operable at all.

Merlin, despite his brain telling him quite avidly that this would somehow change the course of his day, if not his life, in a way that would render him devoid of control, took it upon himself to don his raincoat, nevermind the boots, there was little time, and help the remarkable stranger.

When Merlin dashed out his front door, the look of surprise and relief he expected left much to be desired. Instead, he saw bewilderment and agitation, characteristic of a man who has had a very, very long morning. The man was shouting at him. Merlin was shouting back, but both voices were carried away in the storm, leading to a mutual agreement to shut up and push the car. He was struck with regret at his choice in priorities; his raincoat did him little good, as the exertion and laboured movement lead to water penetrating and eventually inundating his upper half, while he suspected galoshes would have done him much good indeed, in place of the cold mud oozing beneath his heels and riding up his socks. In several short pushes of combined effort, plus one big push, the buggy was out of the worst of the puddle, and arguably fit to go again. Still too loud to speak much, Merlin offered a thumbs up, and the man blinked at him, surprised again, although it may have been to chase away water clinging to his lashes still blindingly. Merlin gave that close-lipped, polite smile that offered immediate exit to limited acquaintances to urge him forward and out, but when the strange man, a drowned cat in a suit, continued to look at him as though transfixed, Merlin decided to make an executive decision on part of the universe.

He turned, and went inside.

The man watched him go, Merlin could feel it like the prickle of lightning in the sky, but he dared not look back, not even out his ugly curtains until he was certain his guest was gone. When he opened the shudder for the third time that rainy first day, it was to a flooded, murky street made to a mud pond in front of his house, and a long trail of tire tracks he could trace like a piece of string to the gates of the beautiful Pendragon House.

The first of the letters arrived the following morning. Merlin had only barely begun updating his address, most of his mail sure to be forwarded by his mother in the coming months, but this first letter, addressed to him, was from someone he was vaguely surprised but not astounded to hear from. Arthur Pendragon, his landlord. He could assume it was just like the last few he had received, informative snippets about his tenancy or more fluffy introduction to the place he was so privileged to live in, and so he paid it little mind. Merlin set it aside. The man with the yellow car crossed his mind once or twice, but only in passing. He hoped he had made it wherever he was going without much more trouble, even if it was his own fault for leaving such a valuable possession vulnerable to the elements like that.

He spent the day cleaning and tidying, much as he had the day before. The sunny sky and renewing smell of rain set him in a mood of rebirth, of new beginnings, and everything in his cozy fixer-upper was an opportunity to make something lovelier than before. He had a day or two yet for his holiday before he would have to call into work, and until then, he intended use his time wisely.

The wallpaper was the first thing to go.

With the night came the smell of drying paint and the sound of cars passing his house one after another, the chatter of excitement and the glare of filtered, colored light. Merlin would have shut it out if he could, but to close the window would be to suffocate in paint fumes, his beauty rest be damned. He wanted a good night's sleep, not a hangover. In the earlier hours of the evening, he had thought this would be an eight to ten kind of affair. Then the music started, a whole brass band, it sounded like, and he knew he was in for something interminable.

Merlin rolled around his cluttered living room, everything from the bedroom shoved into it whilst his paint aired out. He perched on his loveseat, did a lazy summersault out of his pillowfort, baked cookies to warm the house, even put on his own record as though to spite Pendragon House for its inconsiderate racket. The latter was to no avail, and he turned it off after a few minutes; the clash of melody was giving him a headache. He checked his watch- almost three in the morning. He was agitated enough to round up; at most, he had dozed a little under two hours between nine and now, fifteen minute increments interrupted by raucous laughter and what he assumed to be drunkards skinny dipping in the lake. He wished he didn’t know, but again, his windows were all wide open, and if anything killed him, it would be curiosity, followed swiftly by this miserable Arthur Pendragon.

Just then, Merlin remembered the letter he had received this morning. Was it a notice? He could find it in himself to be less put off if he had been warned- at least then it would be his own fault. Eyes shot, he fumbled with the heavy envelope until the seal popped- who wax-sealed their letters? -and squinted to make sense of the elaborate script.

Hereby invited...party...courtesy of Arthur Pendragon…

That was about all he got out of it, and all he really needed to read. Merlin tossed it aside with a huff and, exhausted, covered his ears with throw pillows.

The letters kept coming. The parties kept happening. The house was coming together.

Merlin had painted the outside a soft blue and rigorously cleaned the white trim, although he left the knobbed stair and wind chime as they were. The living room and bedroom were a brisk white, the curtains had been washed- Merlin didn't have the heart to throw them out -and he had livened up the space with a new dining table, a novelty painting of a farmhouse, and a little potted plant. The teakettle was operable, and life was good.

Still, the invitations came. Invitations to day trips into the city, rendezvous on the yacht, tours of the estate, and at the end of each was a reminder of the inevitable nightly house party.

Merlin had received seven now, and other trinkets had started to accompany them in little red boxes. A birdhouse. A teacozy. A brass watch, at least he hoped it was brass. All in all, it was unsettling, but Merlin had managed to put it out of his mind. It was thoughtful, and probably born of guilt, although, if Arthur knew he was a terrible neighbor, Merlin wished he would just start being a good one instead of perpetuating this compensation nonsense. It was the ninth night, and the eighth letter that finally convinced him. It had come in a box that was shaped frighteningly like a necklace from Tiffany’s, or some other such bizarre place, and Merlin had opened it with pallor and trepidation. The letter was on top, he could only guess its contents, but beneath that, in the box itself, was a simple, soft, blue...scarf. There was no price tag, no note, for when he did open the envelope, it was only his name in that elegant script he had come to be so familiar with. Somehow, that was enough.

Merlin made yet another executive decision.

He would attend one of these parties, only one, and put an end to this strange outreach of companionship. He was willing to make passing friends, would allow teatime some afternoon or another, but this gift business would stop, and by the stars and stripes, they would be on a mutual last name basis. No more of this dear Merlin business, no signed Arthur. It would be Mr. Emrys, Mr. Pendragon, chatter about the water pressure, the Sox game, and no more.

Merlin was unfit to be there. He didn't only feel that way, but was, surrounded by people he saw glimpses of in movie pictures and heard on the radio, talking about their careers and mixing brandy in their sequined dresses and tight suits. Even amongst those closer to his own economic class, college students wasted out of their minds, he didn't feel at ease. There was no theme, no center, no purpose to their frivolity- only music, loud and frenzied, and glittering champagne, dancers, fireworks above the tower raining stars into the lake. Whoever he spoke to told him something different; Mr. Pendragon was a prince, an actor, a war hero, a famous doctor, a mob boss. Not once did he hear Arthur. No one seemed to know him, or where he was, if he even lived in the house bearing his name, if he intended for there to be a shindig tonight. Apparently, the gates opened and people came, from everywhere, and no one was ever turned away.

No one was ever invited.

That put a knot in his stomach like nothing else, and he kept a white-knuckle grip on his little box of unsolicited gifts. He would find Arthur, if he could, and return them, explain himself if there was air left in the atmosphere. He would apologize. He would leave. The stars fallen into the lake would stay there, extinguished, and Merlin would soundproof his bedroom. The next letter he got, he would pack his things. The overwhelming sense of impending change, so much like doom, made his heart beat heavy and his teeth ache.

He had meandered for two hours, and like Persephone in the underworld, dared not partake. Unlike her, he could leave whenever he pleased, even if it didn't feel like it just then. The pull of destiny made him stay put, and with every passing moment, he was tempted to throw caution to the wind and join the fray.

Four hours in. Midnight. Merlin felt a tap on his shoulder and turned, the band meeting crescendo to the coo of a love song and the stars bright overhead, a moment of stillness and light, he stared, caught in the blue eyes of Apollo himself. He wished he had had something to drink. Heart fluttering in his chest, he half listened to the man welcoming him with a smile, leading him by the shoulder to somewhere more private where they could talk, and yes, he did have a lot on his mind, and indeed, the decorations were splendid. The click of a door brought him to his senses.

“What’ve you got there?”

They were in a study lined with chestnut bookshelves, each full of old, decorative books and ships trapped in bottles. The man who Merlin recognized as Mud Man With the Yellow Car had seated him on a plush lounge, black leather that squeaked faintly when he moved and smelled particular, but good. Its arms were too wide for his comfort, and he felt small. The man, much neater than when Merlin had last seen him, placed a cold glass in his hand.

“Just water,” he assured amiably.

Mindlessly, Merlin broke his vow and sipped.

Arthur Pendragon was a tall, broad man, who knew his way around a suit. In private now, he had shucked his coat to a hanger and loosed his ascot, red, to leave it hanging about his neck. He had never seen a man in suspenders any color but black or brown before, but for the sake of fashion, Merlin compelled himself to understand one's need for scarlet, if only to pair with a white suit. A white suit that looked fantastic, mind.

His host was watching him bemused, as if he knew what Merlin was here for. Merlin certainly didn't. He swallowed.

“Is that for me?” Arthur probed again. All eyes went to the repurposed gift box in Merlin’s hands, suddenly thrust into Arthur’s, who took it with mild surprise. Opening it, the look of someone enjoying a marvelous and delightful game was lost to one crestfallen. In the box, was a birdhouse, a teacozy, and a brass watch. Arthur closed the box. Had he continued to paw through it, he would have found the stack of letters, each written in this very study. Merlin, feeling like he was intruding on a private moment, was relieved that he had stopped there.

“Would you like a drink? I'd like a drink,” Arthur hummed, and he was gone again, opening wine.

“So you're not a gift person,” he said cheerily. A new glass found its way into Merlin’s hand. “Or a, how do you say, luxury adventure person,” he was starting to feel guilty, “or a party person--”

“You don't even know me,” Merlin heard himself say. The half empty wine glass he didn't remember drinking set itself on the table. Everything about this night was shiny and ethereal, his whole body abuzz with newness and golden warmth. He didn't know he had passed four hours wandering this house, drunk on art and a myriad of mismatched strangers, didn't realize he had spent almost half an hour drinking with the mysterious Arthur Pendragon in his private study, didn't know how he had gotten to the point where he could hear the words coming out of his mouth but couldn't understand who on earth had put them there, but here he was, and, “You don't know a thing about me.”

Arthur furrowed his brow and stared into his glass, the box far from forgotten on the coffee table. “I know you like the color blue,” he said quietly. “I know you like to watch birds. I know you like to work with your hands when you could call someone instead.”

Merlin, at once feeling too big for his skin and yet very small under the pressure of Arthur’s attention, watched him carefully. He watched his body language, stiff even in as casual a position as he was, legs crossed and leaning. He watched his lips, red from the worry of teeth and wine, round themselves about his words, saw his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks.

“I know you don't mind helping strangers,” Arthur was saying. Merlin’s mouth was dry and his water was gone. Arthur was watching him now, too. His eyes were blue, bluer than anything, his jaw was sharp, his shave was close and he could smell his cologne and Arthur was saying, softly, “I know your name,” and then, “Merlin,” and then.

Hook, line, and sinker.

“We know each other plenty well,” returned the easy smile. The moment was gone just like that, leaving him breathless, as though he'd been kissed. Arthur hadn't kissed him, though. He hadn't touched him aside from the occasional brush of fingers exchanging a glass, hadn't tried to breach the distance. He was still talking. Merlin wondered how his a smile didn't reach his blue, blue eyes. “But you've avoided me quite avidly, I would say. I was starting to get ideas when-”

“--When?”

“Beg your pardon?” Arthur flushed red, not expecting the question. He was used to Merlin’s silence, had no way of knowing how unusual it really was. Perhaps he had rehearsed parts of this conversation. Regardless, he disliked being thrown off guard.

“Ideas. I've been here a week, when could you have possibly found time to get ideas?”

Arthur was incredulous.

“You'd be surprised to find I do have a brain, you know,” he seemed about to continue, but Merlin glowered. Arthur began again. “...Ideas about you?”

“The Queen,” Merlin answered dryly.

“Victoria or Elizabeth?”

“Mary.”

Arthur winced, and poured more wine.

“You pushed my car,” he murmured. “No one asked you, there was no proposed reward, you just came out in your loafers and helped me.”

Merlin thought back to that night, the sniffles he'd had the remainder of the evening, the mud he had to mop up the following day. “I help people who need it,” he corrected. “The ‘who’ makes no difference to me.”

Arthur toasted him halfheartedly. “‘Sure know how to make a guy feel special, don't you?” His host glanced back to the box of rejected gifts, rejected friendship, and again, Merlin felt a pang of guilt. The distant sound of the party made its way to them, a bass beat that had always been there but had still managed to be forgotten. The clock read two.

Merlin took a drink.

“What do you want from me?” His glass clinked against the wood of the table.

“Are you flattered?” He frowned in confusion. Arthur repeated himself, clearer and more distinctly. “Are you flattered, Merlin?”

“I…”

Merlin didn't know. Why was he here, he thought, what brought him into this situation? Why had he set out tonight, bent to break his promise to his mother? Why did he insist on following that drag of purpose clutching his heart, leading him into danger such as this?

“...I am.”

There was a breath, Arthur waiting for a ‘but’ that didn't come. Again, Merlin was caught in the gaze of an Adonis.

“Would you come back?” Arthur’s tone was low, wistful, concealing. His look didn't waver, daring Merlin to lie, staring into his heart or perhaps just enjoying what he saw- both concepts he couldn't understand. “If I let you go tonight, home,” he sighed, every word sounded like a sigh now and the world was a void, “would you come back?”

The implication that his landlord might not permit him to leave should have been disturbing. Much of this should have been, in fact, he ought to have reported it or left or something--

“Yes.”

What.

“Yes?” Arthur smiled.

What are you doing?

More than smile, he beamed. He tried to hide it but couldn't, the relief overwhelming his composure and Merlin was damned if he saw anyone more beautiful than Arthur Pendragon was in that moment.

“...That's all I wanted,” he said simply.

Merlin was damned.

He knew then that if he took even the smallest amount of momentum towards Arthur, he would do something they would both regret. He would lose a potential friend, although an odd one, of his an admittedly lousy, endearing neighbor. He could always say he had been drunk, which he was, a little- he wasn't -and bank on Arthur being the same- sober, that is -and maybe, maybe then he could get away with it. Dangerous thought, danger, danger--

“Will you stay tonight?”

His heart leapt to his throat to choke him, treacherous thing.

“...Until the party is over?”

The clock read two fifteen, Merlin unabashedly eyeing those red, red lips.

He made an executive decision.

He left.

#my writing #fanfiction #merthur #great gatsby!merthur au #Beautiful Fool #if you don't want to be tagged then lemme know #if you DO wanna be tagged lemme know #bbc merlin #merlin

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