#i was asked for more hiro so I PROVIDE MORE HIRO!!

[mishacakes]

baby boy. baby.

[delirious-donna]

The Temporary Assistant [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: I’ve been obsessed with the exhausted lawyer for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve written a fic for him… please be kind cause I baby.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: NSFW, pwp, established relationship, reader is assumed to be a little bit on the booby side, pseudo boss/subordinate dynamic, spit as lube (don’t do this folks), Higuruma is a breasts man, nipple play, little prep, cumshot

Masterlist

“She quit. What do you mean, she quit?”

Higuruma massaged his tired eyes in steady circles, huffing out a laugh at your exasperated questioning and the equally perplexed look on your face.

“Darling, I don’t know how else to phrase it other than the young lady no longer works for me,” he offered with fatigue lacing his tone. It was late, and he didn’t want to be having this conversation for the third time today. The first had been with his partner at the law firm they jointly owned, and the second with the agency supervisor his previously employed assistant worked for.

Nanami hadn’t been surprised at the news, a fact that bothered Hiromi more than he cared to admit. His partner was not one for pulling his punches, so Hiromi was accustomed to his sometimes blunt manner of speaking, but it still hurt to think that Kento had seen something coming that he had been blindsided by.

“I’m only surprised she lasted this long.” Those were his parting words as Hiromi stalked dejectedly back to his office at Nanami’s insistence that his assistant would be far too busy to spread her attention to them both. Not words he’d been happy to hear.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Higuruma. That’s not like her, but I’m afraid it’ll be at least two weeks until I can provide a replacement.” The agency supervisor sounded genuinely shocked at the sudden resignation, and his day simply went from bad to worse.

Hiromi flopped onto the couch, his head lolling back with his eyes sliding shut from the weight of his fatigue. It had been mounting all day, and now that he was home, where he should be finding solace in the comfort of his surroundings and his loving wife’s embrace, he was hit suddenly with a fresh reminder of the shit he’d landed in.

A soft hand caressed the side of his neck, inducing a shiver of relief. It was followed by the weight of your body settling over his spread thighs, your head resting against his shoulder. His suit jacket still hung from his lithe frame, the button undone and the shirt beneath badly wrinkled from the long commute home, but you didn’t care about his untidiness. 

He felt every quiet exhale fan his throat, the ghost of a smile finding its way to his face despite it all. Your nimble fingers burrowed into the knot of his tie, loosening it until you could pull it free and toss it away. “What are you going to do, Hiromi? I know you have that court date coming up… it’s a busy time. How about Nanami’s assistant?”

“Not an option. I already tried,” he muttered with a shrug. 

Opening his eyes, he peered down at you tucked into the crook of his neck, a hand inside the collar of his shirt and your nails grazing gentle patterns over his collarbone. He chewed his lip, fearful to broach the idea planted by his partner when his foot was almost out the door. “You could always ask your wife…”

Selfishly, he indulged himself in your affections, your scent that permeated every corner of the home you shared and let his fingers, stiff from the cold, warm against your feminine curves. You might not be so keen to indulge him once he suggested you work as his temporary assistant, so he would take what he could until push came to shove.

“Your fingers are icy, Hiro. Come here,” you chided with a click of the tongue, though he knew it was only born of concern for his health. Hiromi hummed happily, grateful when you pressed his palms together with yours on either side and blew hot air to dispel the chill.

“What would I do without you?” He whispered, sitting upright and nudging your nose with his when you glanced at him. Hiromi’s eyes drooped, heat dusted his cheeks at the proximity, and when you let out an airy giggle… he swore he swooned all over again. Just as he had when he first met you and fell in love.

He doubted he would be in the position he was today had it not been for you. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would be here at all if he hadn’t met you when he did, but that was a story for another day.

You admired the side profile of your husband, eyes low and hazy with appreciation of his strong jaw and prominent nose that hooked just so at the end. “Good thing you’ll never have to know.”

Hiromi groaned aloud, burying his face between the soft skin of your décolleté. His cool lips skimmed the tops of your breasts, first on one side then turning to the other, making you shudder and hum. Your fingers threaded through his black hair, tugging firmly at the roots just how he liked, and his hips jerked in response.

A great fuck and a good night’s sleep would fix him, you were certain of it. It wouldn’t resolve his work issue, but Hiromi worked better with a clear mind, and you knew it was murky as bog water right now. Your man was a brilliant lawyer, dedicated to working towards a more just legal system for those normally underrepresented along with his partner, but he was a terrible workaholic.

You couldn’t count the nights he traipsed home from the office at an ungodly hour only to drag his tired body into his home office to continue where he left off. Only coming to bed when you physically dragged him away from his keyboard and desk with threats of pain and not the kind he typically enjoyed.

It couldn’t be easy to be his assistant, though you knew damn well that he was a good man. The poor girl probably had enough of the endless expectations and incessantly long hours which were necessary to get through all of his demands because he refused to finish at five like normal people. On the few occasions you’d stopped by his office, you could see the fraught expression written all over her young face and how her eyes pleaded with you to distract her boss enough so she could catch up with the mountain of requests waiting for her attention. Poor girl…

Ready to go to town on your poor overworked and stressed husband, you rocked your pelvis against the seam of his zipper, pushing his head further into your chest whilst his cock twitched and hardened beneath you. Hiromi practically purred, the sound muffled and vibrated right down into your soul. The possibilities were endless, and you were considering if you should slide to the floor and bathe his cock in your spit or ride him until all that wicked tension left his body when he suddenly paused.

His hands moved to your waist, the pressure firmer than expected and he gently slid you back along his knees so you were no longer planted over his poorly concealed erection. The flicker of guilt burnt in his whisky-smoked eyes, and it soured your smile. Hiromi shook his head and exhaled deeply, his eyes flitting away from yours.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered.

“You… can’t fuck your wife?” Your voice broke into a laugh that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with the bitter twist of uncertainty in your stomach. “Since when?”

“Don’t say that. I want to, but I need to ask you something first.” Hiromi cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press what he hoped were reassuring kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. “Then you can decide if you still wanna… y’know.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion forming like a snake ready to strike, and your arms folded tightly across your chest. He swallowed nervously, struggling not to ogle your beautiful breasts that he would be fully buried in by now and likely suckling on had it not been for his damned conscience. 

“Spit it out, Higuruma.”

Oh, he was in trouble.

Hiromi cleared his throat and fixed you with a beseeching look. “Will you be my assistant?” He rushed on when you visibly bristled. “It’s only for two weeks until the agency can find me a replacement and, and… it was Kento’s idea!”

“Throwing Kento under the bus isn’t going to save your hide, Mr Higuruma!” You slid sideways onto the couch, ignoring the groan of disappointment from beside you. “You know very well I am in the midst of my PhD. How could you think it would be feasible for me to come work in your office as an errand girl for a fortnight?”

“Well… I have a plan,” he said, both pointer fingers coming together as he continued to give you the best impression of those adorable dogs with the droopy eyes.

When he didn’t elaborate immediately, your eyebrows rose and you nudged his knee with yours. 

“R-right. I know you’ve been writing your paper here at home. So, I thought that maybe I could also work from home. You could help me out and continue your work in between the things I need.”

Dammit, that wasn’t quite the terrible idea you had initially anticipated. You eyed your husband from head to toe, and he desperately tugged at your folded arms until he could take your hands into his. He kissed across your knuckles, nuzzling his cheek, rough from a faint five o’clock shadow, into the back of your hands.

“Hiromi…” you warned, but he was almost too overjoyed to hear his given name once more to heed the warning in your voice.

“Two weeks. That’s all. And I promise not to ask for too much, only the absolute necessities that I can’t manage myself. Please?”

How could you deny him when he asked so sweetly and especially when you knew just how under the cosh he was with his upcoming trial? It would only interfere with your deadlines if he didn’t uphold his promises, but you chose to believe that he would. After all, Hiromi was rather keen on keeping his balls attached to his body.

“Fine, but you owe me.”

~

The first week went by without incident. It was an adjustment, to say the least, but once you found your feet and Hiromi got used to not having to leave at the arse crack of dawn, it was rather lovely to see more of your handsome husband.

Being able to sit down at the small kitchen table to eat lunch together was a daily treat, and it filled you with triumph when he would eagerly seek you out in the kitchen with his nose sniffing out whatever delicious treat you had prepared that day. Ensuring Hiromi ate during the working day was, more often than not, a struggle, with several text messages bouncing back and forth until he acquiesced–but not now.

Maybe it was the lure of stolen kisses or the giggles shared when you called him Mr Higuruma, breathlessly pressing your body into his and squealing playfully when he pawed at your backside in turn.

You’d be lying if you weren’t enjoying the pseudo roleplay of boss and subordinate. Playing pretend with a power balance that didn’t translate to your relationship outside this current scenario. There was no top or bottom, no dominant or submissive, just two people enraptured by each other. Sometimes you led, and other times he did. Your marriage was well-balanced, and you loved that about Hiromi. He wasn’t threatened by a woman that initiated, in fact, he loved it—loved you. So this new experience, where he was large and in charge at all times, was certainly thrilling, but not everything was smooth sailing. 

Hiromi was demanding, to say the least. When he was engrossed in a specific piece of work, he had a way of speaking that made you want to smack him round the head with one of his many manila folders, preferably one of the thicker ones.

No wonder his assistant had quit if he regularly spoke to her in the clipped manner you had heard on more than several occasions now. Only your intimate knowledge of the man kept your tongue in your head and your hand away from the folders. Niceties were time-consuming when he was against the clock. He didn’t mean to be cold, and you told yourself this over and over, but it still hurt, just a little.

Higuruma could get used to this. 

He idly wondered how he would feasibly make the transition back to office working once this temporary fix came to an end. He didn’t miss his morning commutes, the packed trains that felt like being crammed into sardine tins, nor the chill of the office before the heating had a chance to warm the rooms sufficiently. 

It was a treat to be able to roll out of bed and right into his desk chair. If he wanted to start at 6am, he could, though you would chastise him thoroughly if he dared to. He knew you liked your morning snuggles, and so did he. Waking slowly to your soft snores which he liked to call purrs, and soaking in the smell of your sleep-soaked skin whilst his hands roamed every inch of your softness he could reach. It made it easier to escape the clutches of sleep, knowing you were waiting for him.

However, the star attraction of the current situation was you. Never had he cast an appreciative eye over one of his assistants, not even before he met you, but you were his wife, and he couldn’t help but gawk at his sheer dumb luck. There was something altogether forbidden about the fantasies in his head which, of course, made them all the more alluring.

The first few days at home he had stayed in comfortable clothing, favouring the sweats he’d wear around the house on the weekends and his old college sweater, but quickly, he realised that this didn’t work for him. He needed the structure of his routine even if he wasn’t venturing past his front door, so the suits returned—starched collars and a black tie at his throat. As if to match his energy, you started to dress formally too, and what a treat that was.

Pencil skirts that he didn’t think he’d ever seen, blouses that nipped in your waist, pinafore dresses that swished around your thighs and most decadent of all–lace-topped stockings. 

You were driving him to distraction, and the worst of it was that he was certain you didn’t realise. It made him sound shorter than he liked, his words coming out clipped, and his pleasantries sounded cursory rather than heartfelt. You were doing your best to accommodate his needs whilst still working on your paper, and here he was, wishing to bend you over his desk to run his nose and mouth over your squidgy thighs, the meat of your backside and the seat of your underwear until it soaked through with his saliva.

By the time the second week rolled around, Higuruma was a volcano, ready and raring to erupt at the slightest breeze or incident. The lunchtime kisses were no longer satiating his desires, nor were the evenings spent worshipping at the altar of your puffy, spit-covered pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch this very specific itch.

“I’ve made the copies you asked for, Hiromi. I’ve also updated your calendar with the pre-agenda meeting that came through from the opposing side. Was there anything else for now?”

Hiromi audibly moaned when your wrist grazed his fingers, setting down the documents in question and lingering by his side, waiting for an answer. He tugged sharply at the knot of his tie, feeling choked for air—starved of logic. 

As he glanced up at you, he paused. Your bottom lip was held fast between your teeth, eyes positively alight with playful mischief. So maybe you were more aware of the thick-as-sticky treacle tension than he gave you credit for. He fixed the cuffs of his shirt in an attempt to mask the shake of his hands, setting his pen down before leaning back in his chair. It creaked in protest, and you raised a hand to stifle a laugh. 

“Actually, there is something else, and it cannot be put off a moment longer,” he drawled with a tone that suggested he was going to dictate a letter or something equally menial. 

You were not expecting him to spin his chair towards you and yank you down by the arm into his lap. The shriek that left you was genuine, only silenced towards the end by the firm melding of warm, insistent lips. His hands were everywhere and all at once; squeezing the tops of your arms, ripping at the buttons that hid your cleavage from him and skimming beneath the tight hold of your skirt until it rucked around your hips.

There was such urgency to his movements that you struggled to catch up, but finally, you broke apart from his mouth, saliva strands webbing and breaking apart as your tongue passed through them and across your swollen lips. “Mr Higuruma! What would your wife say?” 

It was meant as a spicy joke, a nod to the little games that had been at play and the dynamic the two of you had fallen into, but you sensed immediately that it didn’t go over well. He stopped fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, half of them free from their holes and the lace of your bra now prominently on show, breasts firmly squeezed together given the constraints of the material.

“I-I would… never. I mean…” You watched the desire in his eyes shift to panic, and you shushed him with a finger over his lips. Your heart ricocheted in your chest at the sincerity, and if you believed you couldn’t love him any more than you already did, it proved untrue when you witnessed the devotion that shone in those whisky-coloured eyes.

“I know. It’s okay,” you murmured, closing the distance and trailing your lips over his jaw and up to his ear. “I like it… keep going, please?”

Oh gods, how could he have ever deserved a woman like you in his life? Hiromi whimpered, his eyebrows pinched together, and he felt that final strand of restraint snap clean in two. His lip trembled for a second before he was on you again. Hungry kisses pathed down your throat, a hand at the back of your head to keep you close and manoeuvre you exactly as he wanted.

You scrabbled at his tie, pulling it free with a whip crack until you could toss it behind you and return your focus to his shirt so you could scratch at his chest and leave red welts across his skin.

“No.” The frantic lawyer shook his head, pressing his fingertips over the fresh mark he’d sucked into your neck simply to watch you whine from the pressure of the blooming bruise. “Belt, now.”

Jumping at the ragged command that rasped from Hiromi’s throat, you complied without teasing or complaint. Working the tail of his leather belt through the buckle and sighed at the clatter of the metal when it rattled free to join his tie somewhere unseen in the room.

“Fuck… take it out, please.”

He didn’t wait for you to say anything, nor did he wait for you to pop his top button or lower his zip. He was too focused on freeing your bountiful tits and taking them into his mouth. Your eyes raised to the heavens when his hot needy tongue licked around your nipple, the lace cups shoved down to push your breast up and into his face. 

For long moments, you only watched as he laved you with his spit, lips drawn around your pert buds to elicit that deep-seated squirm of pleasure that echoed between your thighs. Hiromi lifted his gaze to your face, making sure you watched as he sandwiched your breast together with his broad palms so he could suckle both nipples at once. Your jaw slackened, your stomach sucked in, and your hips undulated atop his thighs.

It invigorated the tightness of your hold on his cock, drawing it out of his briefs followed by his heavy balls to stroke him hard and fast. He could take it, you knew that, his purpled cockhead sticky from precum that painted your fingers and palm. You paused with his foreskin pulled back, fingers ringing his base to use your other hand to tickle the seam of his balls. He jerked up with a muffled grunt, a resounding pop echoing in the study when his lips pulled free of your breasts.

“Need you, Sir. Please, want this,” you paused to squeeze his shaft in emphasis, “Inside me.”

“Little fucking temptress, you know that? Should’ve bent you over this desk days ago…” He growled against your collarbone, marking it with his teeth.

Higuruma stood abruptly. You squealed and anchored an arm around his neck, refusing to give up your possessive grab of his throbbing dick. He turned and shoved the back of his chair flush against the edge of his desk to stabilise it before dropping you into the leather seat and folding your legs back to your chest. 

His rough fingers pinched into the fat of your thighs, fiddling with the sticky bands of your lace stockings and damn near ripped them. You would have complained had it not been for the raw emotions written all over Hiromi’s face, his eyes fixed on the seat of your underwear and the obvious stain that was caused by his ministrations.

Bending his knees to drop closer to you, he savoured your mouth with his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to curl over your teeth. He filled his hands with the fat of your ass, pulling the cheeks apart and massaging the roundness with little gentleness. It was all you could do to moan, the sounds swallowed greedily only to be replaced by a pleading keen when he tugged your underwear away from your cunt. The fabric bunched around your knees, and you assumed he’d move back to remove them fully, but he didn’t. Instead, he twisted the material until it was tight around the bend of your knees, pinning you in place. 

His long slender fingers stroked your pretty slit, coming away with remnants of your arousal and using it to mix with his precum that continued to weep onto your hand. Hiromi’s head sagged forward, black hair falling into his eyes as a long string of saliva fell from what he’d gathered behind his teeth to your sensitive clit. He smeared it around the bundle of nerves, scissoring his fingers until he could tug it feverishly.

“Hiro… fuck me already. Goddammit, I’m gonna blow,” you whined, painfully aware that you were dangling by a thread.

You helped him lead his cock to your entrance, tapping it against your folds to see the tendons in his neck strain and giving you some semblance of smug satisfaction. When he finally notched where you needed him most, your breathing was coming so rapidly you faintly worried you might pass out from this. The air was so thick you struggled to inhale, drowning in this faux forbidden tryst.

He groaned, long and low. His nose nudged into your warm cheek as he bent even lower and pushed into your velvet heat. “That’s it. This pretty pussy is sucking me in—fuck—oh, you like that?” He teased, his hips drawing back only to plunge in again, and deeper this time when he felt you clench around him.

You gripped his forearms, head lolling against the headrest when his cock reached your depths, and the coarse midnight patch of hairs at his pelvis rubbed delicious friction into your pert little pearl. 

“Mhm… mhm. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

Higuruma could have laughed at the absurdity of your words. What made you think he could stop even if he wanted to? You were hugging him too perfectly, pulling him back in each time he withdrew his hips. The rhythmic pap of his full-to-bursting balls against the split of your ass rocketed him closer and closer to the finish point, enough so that he fisted the base of his dick to stave off his looming orgasm. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop either.

The tails of his shirt escaped his trousers and obscured the view of his cock disappearing into your warm cunt, and he growled in frustration. You were so close to the precipice of your orgasm that you didn’t realise why he was growling, only moaning at the primal noise and clenching down hard enough that Hiromi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Releasing his hold on your thighs, he grinned wolfishly at the imprints of his fingertips on the backs of your legs. With his heart pounding rapidly, he ripped his shirt up his torso and gripped the material between his teeth. His cock sawed in and out at a pace that was losing its rhythm at an alarming rate. 

He’d never looked like this before, crazed with desire and burning heat covering the apples of his cheeks. The whisky smoke in his eyes was barely visible due to how blown out his pupils were, and you lifted a hand to caress his cheek. His eyes cut to you, hips rotating whilst buried against your cervix, and with a sharp nod, he asked you to cum for him. His thumb sought out your clit, working it from side to side whilst his balls drew painfully tight and the first lick of molten heat dripped at the base of his spine.

Your eyes rolled over, limbs going lax and pliant pinned between the chair and his body. Your toes curled within your stockings, thighs trembling and butterflying open onto the arms of the chair. Hiromi rode out your high, slowing himself just so, but he couldn’t hold back for too long.

With a willpower that shocked him, he pulled out at the last moment and pumped himself until thick viscous spurts of cum shot across your exposed breasts and stained the blouse covering your stomach. He convulsed so intensely his knees nearly buckled, long drawn-out whimpers ripping from his throat, and you watched it all through hooded, blissed-out eyes. 

Hiromi sagged forward, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His cock twitched as it softened, the sensation worsened by your toying little fingers exploring his sensitive skin and rubbing the mixture of his and your arousal into his pelvis and across his balls. He didn’t know what to say. The fantasy lived out was so much more than his imagination could conjure, but he still felt a little vulnerable now it was over.

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and licked over his parched lips. Words caught in his throat, but they were cut off by the trill of his phone on the desk as it vibrated across the wood. You handed it to him with a shy smile, and he answered it after smoothing back his hair.

“Mr Higuruma?”

“S-speaking,” he answered, clearing his throat urgently.

“I’m calling from Clerical Angels. Unfortunately, I have bad news. It is going to be another week before a new assistant can start. I’m sorry for the delay, I know it must be an inconvenience…”

Your eyes widened at the conversation you could hear as clear as day, meeting his steady gaze with cheeks that burned with a combination of mild embarrassment and intrigue. One more week.

“Not at all. I think I can cope, my wife is happy to bend over backwards for me.”

Oh, Hiromi would pay for that comment… but not for at least another week.

[neiptune]

surreal, but nice

cw: 7k wc, female reader, strangers to lovers, osamu doesn't exactly know how to handle one of the most famous music artists in japan suddenly popping in onigiri miya, inspired by notting hill, my sappy entry for the romcom collab hosted by @bloompompom! thank you @yellow-sword-lily, this fic is also a little yours :)

Miya Osamu is a creature of habit.

He gets up fairly early, showers, never leaves the small apartment without fixing himself a nutritious breakfast, more or less knows and is therefore prepared to what to expect from each particular day.

Downstairs there’s his beloved shop, a dormant creature he gently stirs from sleep each morning. When he doesn’t have to head to the market to select and order the freshest products, Osamu starts the day by contacting all his suppliers and arranging the deliveries. He then checks the inventory, reviews reservations, welcomes the only other chef to discuss any special preparations or new experiments. It’s not unusual for him to check his emails, monitor the website and official social media of the shop, the one thing he actually hates doing because he knows damn well one negative comment will ruin his day, especially since there’s nothing he can do to rectify mistakes made days, sometimes weeks before.

He has a chef, one dishwasher, three servers, two food delivery drivers and that’s about it. Osamu Miya is the owner, manager, host, executive chef, server and cashier of onigiri Miya. He juggles management skills, culinary talent and business acumen just perfectly. He’s prepared and knows exactly what each day has in store for him.

Until you happen.

Osamu has been cooking for almost three hours by the time the shop officially opens at 11AM. It’s not unusual for new faces to come in from time to time, despite his clientele being more or less established, but it is rare to hear the little door chime ring so soon. Except if his dumb brother happens to be in town.

But you’re not his dumb brother. You’re a new and yet strangely familiar face, even hidden behind thick sunglasses and a beret that one could deem more appropriate to a parisian getaway rather than a Kansai one.

“Morning” you offer a little bow, hesitant by the door “you’re open, right?”

“Uh, sure” he smiles, still a little uncertain after a moment of astonishment “I don’t often have clients for breakfast. What can I get ya?”

“I’ve been told this is the best onigiri shop in town. I’ll let you decide”

You seem to consider your options for a moment, then decide to sit at the closest empty table. Osamu would usually provide more than a nod: he’d make conversation, ask questions. Forming bonds with whoever visits his shop and trusts his food is his favorite part of the day, as well as a great activity to engage in while his hands are busy putting the rice into molds.

“Close that mouth” is the only thing he utters under his breath, glancing at the server who set your table “yer catching flies”

“But it’s her!” Hiro squeaks as silently as humanly possible “I’m gonna ask for an autograph”

“You will do no such thing”

“We could hang it in the shop!”

“Go help in the kitchen, Minato called in sick today. I’ll handle this”

Hiro disappears behind closed doors but only after batting his freakishly long lashes to his boss, a heartbreaking disappointed look on his face.

Osamu takes a deep breath and squeezes the molds together, an action executed as gently as possible to keep the fluffy texture that makes his onigiri the best in town.

He knows you, of course he knows you. Not only your face was on any available surface for the entirety of the previous summer (posters, billboards, magazine covers to advertise your first ever concert in the Koshien stadium), he’s also pretty sure in high school Atsumu had perpetually ruined the walls of their shared room with some crappy adhesive squares used to hang your poster.

Osamu is not really a dedicated listener, he knows a couple of your most famous songs and that your success is damn near planetary. You have a house in Tokyo but spend most of the year in America, California if he recalls correctly, and you tour across Europe as well. Yet, it’s been easy to pick what to serve you. The gourmet options such as salmon roe or roast beef are off the table: they don’t make new clients feel special. What new clients need is a taste of authenticity, something that reminds them of home, and don’t you look just like the kind of person who could use some of that?

Osamu decides on pickled plum, tuna mayo and bonito flakes. One serving usually consists of three onigiri but he can’t resist adding an extra treat for you, a tenmusu onigiri. He’s recently perfected the recipe with an egg-free tempura batter that is still thick enough to absorb his special sauce.

He hopes it’s not creepy that he lingers by your table after he brings your meal: celebrity or not, you’re a new client. And Osamu can’t resist observing the wander taking over customers who are unfamiliar with his kitchen, as soon as they take the first bite. He hopes you are no exception.

“If this is an onigiri” you lock eyes with him and smile, glorious, radiant “what the hell have I been eating until now?”

“Probably not the best in town” he grins, proud, a slight blush already coating his cheeks. Damn it, he’s tempted to turn the baseball cap once more, let the brim shield his awkwardness. But that would be totally lame.

“Is it a family business?”

“No. It’s just… mine”

You hum, busy chewing on another bite. Then you swallow and ask another question, invite him to sit eventually, then apologize because he’s probably busy (he is) and has things to do (he does) but this is never going to happen again for Osamu, because he’s not Atsumu. And so he sits and makes conversation like a normal human being that definitely isn’t obsessively dwelling on how beautiful you are, how different your voice sounds when you’re not singing, how much he’d hate for a client to come in and pop that bubble. Which is exactly what happens and he doesn’t like it one bit how you interrupt your chuckle, lower your head, hunch your shoulders in an attempt to hide. He doesn’t like that he has to excuse himself, call Hiro back form the kitchen, make conversation with Suzuki-san, listen while he describes all his latest hospital visits in horrifying detail.

You look at him from time to time, the quiet shop owner suddenly turned chatty sparks your curiosity. He’s skilled with his hands and genuinely interested in what the person who must be an habitué has to say. He’s attractive, too. Especially as he tries to disguise the occasional glances directed your way or the disappointment that flashes in his eyes when you get up and start collecting your things.

“Can I get the check, please?” you approach the counter, pretend not to notice his hesitation. Osamu decides against indulging in the “it’s on the house” cliche, opts for treating you as any other client. With the exception of a small discount you won’t even notice.

“That was the best breakfast I had in a while” you collect the receipt and put in your pocket.

“You should come back, then. To have another” Osamu cringes internally as soon as the words leave his mouth and Suzuki-san’s chuckle makes him want to dig a hole to disappear into. But you smile, despite probably having heard the corny line a million other times, and tell him that you just might.

It would’ve been perfect: a beautiful ending to a glorious encounter. It could’ve been. If only you didn’t turn around so abruptly, a small shriek echoing across the shop as you came face to face with Mai, the sudden sound and panic causing her to jump and spill the fresh iced tea from the jug in her hand all over your painfully clean, crisp, starched, white button down.

You both freeze, your mouth open in a silent scream, an horrified look in Mai’s eyes that would’ve been comical on literally any other occasion. Osamu wishes he would’ve went with the “it’s on the house” cliche.

“Oh my god! Oh god! It’s you! I mean, I’m sorry!��� Mai’s voice comes out an octave too high “my god, I’m so sorry!”

“Well, this is great” you frantically grab a handful of napkins from the counter and attempt to dab the mess on your shirt “I have a meeting in half an hour!”

“Please, take my uniform! I will pay for the dry cleaning!”

“Actually” Osamu chimes in as politely as possible, trying his best not to let his anxiety get the best of him “don’t take this the wrong way but, uh, I live upstairs. You can get cleaned up and…”

“You’re kidding, right?” your astonished look is almost glacial. It makes him falter just slightly.

“Or ya can leave with a giant orange stain on yer wet, probably uncomfortably cold shirt?”

“Miya-san!” Mai’s hiss and your shocked expression make him think that sarcasm probably wasn’t a good idea. Osamu sighs.

“Listen, I’m really sorry. These are the keys, you can go on your own, I promise the bathroom’s clean”

You eye him for a few seconds more, then decide against grabbing the keys from his hand.

“I’m gonna need a change of clothes”

Osamu blinks a couple times, dumbfounded. His clothes? You’re asking to wear… his clothes?

“Sure! Yeah, sure. Come on” now his voice sounds uncharacteristically squeaky and he clears his throat as you follow him up the stairs, Suzuki-san’s good grief still ringing in his ears.

Thank god he cleaned the entire apartment just the day before. As much as he likes to brag about being the tidy twin, deep down he knows he’s just as messy as Atsumu.

Osamu tries hard not to look at you, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed while he rummages in his drawers in search of something that could fit you. He shortly wonders if it’d be a good idea to offer a complementary bento box to make up for the disaster Mai caused.

“I’m genuinely sorry” he starts rambling because the silence is unbearable and some of Atsumu’s genes really do take over sometimes “the worst incident we ever had at the shop was my brother almost choking on his dinner. I had to perform the heimlich maneuver, it wasn’t pretty” god, where the hell are this clean, not embarrassing shirts?

“Guess this one will go down in history” your voice is less sharp now, which relieves him.

“Oh, no. I will never tell anyone about this, ever. Mai and Suzuki-san will have to sign an nda. A proper, legally binding one”

The laugh you offer sounds weirdly intimate in the small space of his bedroom, it makes the tips of his ears hot. Finally, he’s able to dig out a decent, basic shirt you accept by thanking him softly. When you lock yourself in the bathroom, Osamu rushes to the kitchen to tidy up the mess he’s left behind after that morning’s breakfast. No time to concentrate on how you’re actually, genuinely in his home, cleaning yourself in the same bathroom he showered in, without a shirt on.

No one’s ever going to believe him. Hell, he may not believe it himself by the end of the day.

“Hey” he jumps at your voice, sudden and closer than expected. You look good in his basic shirt, it suits you somehow. Did you shove your own in one of the bags you left by the door?

“Hey” Osamu says back and cringes for the millionth time “are ya hungry?”

You smile when he shuts his eyes for a second, right after the silly question leaves his mouth.

“Not hungry”

“Right. Of course. Thirsty? I have really good tea, from Shizuoka. And orange juice” he pauses for a second, then adds “or water”

Your smile grows, almost melts into a giggle. “Not thirsty either”

“Okay” he clears his throat “how about dessert? I made some mitarashi dango just yesterday”

“I have a meeting to attend”

“Oh. Sure, yeah, that makes sense” he wants to bash his head against the wall “I’ll walk you out. To downstairs” thank fuck ‘Tsumu isn’t there, he’d never let him live this down. Jesus.

You precede him to the door, gather your bags, then softly thank him for the shirt.

“Nice meeting you, Osamu” he nearly explodes when you say his name, no honorifics whatsoever. How do you even know? He hasn’t carried a name tag on his shirt for years.

“It was nice to meet you too” there’s no time to dwell on dumb, pointless questions “surreal, but nice”

He thinks if your smile could conjure waves, he’d gladly give up all the oxygen in his lungs and drown in them. Has someone ever looked as beautiful while smiling at him? He doesn’t think so. He can’t think. Not when you’re leaning closer, not when your arms are suddenly wrapped around his neck, not when you’re pressing your lips to his. Holy shit. You’re pressing your lips to his. And he’s forgotten how to breathe, let alone kiss. Osamu just freezes, like a marble statue, like a teenager who’s never touched a woman before. Right as he’s about to swallow the shock and fucking move, you’re already pulling away, eyes not leaving his despite the slight self-consciousness swarming in those irises.

And then you disappear, just like the dream he believed you were, all that’s left is an empty spot by the door and his heart slamming against a pathetically ill-equipped ribcage.

La Suite is one of the most luxurious hotels in the prefecture and Osamu feels out of place with the 30 onigiri order he’s carrying past a french restaurant and a traditional japanese one, all soft carpeting, dim lights and wide windows. So different from his.

He timidly explains that he’s there to deliver an order to a certain Bennet-san, who for some reason insisted he’d be the one bringing it to her hotel. They look at him funny but let him through and give the coordinates: top floor, superior double room. A woman meets him the second he steps out of the elevator and sternly asks him to follow her, a silly part of him wonders if he’s about to get murdered in one of the top 25 hotels in Japan. But then she knocks on a door right before swinging it open and he doesn’t even get to explain that he’s not supposed to get inside, she can take the bloody bag and he’ll be on his merry way, but once again Osamu fails to determine what the day holds in store for him.

Once more, it’s you. A less preppy version, one that seems so small in such a gigantic room, the sea breeze blowing from the terrace gracefully lifting up the hem of a tennis skirt you immediately fight to keep down as you promptly get up from the couch.

“Hi” he says, so dumbfounded he barely notices the door closing behind him.

“Miya-san” you bow, keep your eyes down, no sign of a smile he could by now deem familiar “I’m sorry for the trouble, I know the hotel is pretty far from the restaurant and you must be busy. This will only take a second”

Osamu’s brows furrow, confusion evident in the way he cocks his head. You don’t catch it, because your eyes are glued to the floor. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I don’t know what came over me, I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me”

His eyes soften as part of the tension leaves his shoulders. Truth is, Osamu is glad you’re apologizing: despite how beautiful and dreamy you may be, life is not quite a movie and he doesn’t exactly appreciate being blindsided by a stranger. He doesn’t really understand what made you think kissing him would be a good idea (was his awkardness interpreted the wrong way? Did his stare linger on your smile a second too long?) but he’s certain you meant no harm. A shitty person certainly wouldn’t take time out of her day to leave an autograph on a napkin, especially right after half a jug of iced tea was spilled on her shirt just minutes before. To Hiro, with love.

After a moment, he clears his throat. “Can ya look at me?”

You meet his gaze hesitantly, mouth a thin line of harsh disapproval directed at yourself. For a second, you remind him of someone and he almost breaks into a smile.

“Thank you for apologizing. We’re good”

“Are you certain?”

“Yeah!” he chuckles “you didn’t have to place such a big order”

You blink twice, then start nervously fiddling with your fingers “ah, actually I didn’t do it to… well, those onigiris are just really good. I wanted to take some extra ones with me”

“You’re leaving?” he doesn’t mean to sound disappointed, especially not while you’re so intentionally keeping your distance.

“Kinda. My record label rented a house in the countryside, I’ll spend most of the summer locked in, trying to finish my new album. I couldn’t do it in America, I missed being home but didn’t want to endure Tokyo’s chaos so I ended up picking Hyogo. Sorry, you didn’t ask to know all that” you chuckle tensely “we leave tomorrow and I didn’t want to go without apologizing first. That’s all. You may go now”

Osamu hums. “I may go? As in I’m excused?” he laughs when your painfully stoic expression melts into sheer horror.

“No! Of course not, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“You take yourself too seriously” he grins “I’m just messin’ with ya”

“That’s not very nice of you”

“Would you compare it to kissing a stranger out of the blue?”

“Oh god” you hide your overheated face in your hands “you said we’re good!”

“And we are” Osamu steps closer to gently place the bags still in his hands on the marble topped pedestal coffee table. It’s just fun to tease you, one of the many irritating habits he shares with his brother.

His brother. Osamu looks up, a risky desire taking shape in his head and threatening to spill over the tip of his tongue.

“I’m really sorry, Miya-san” you repeat and he doesn’t love that you’re now calling him that “uh, this is your shirt. Cleaned and ironed. Thank you for…”

“Whatcha doing tonight?”

You freeze, paper bag still in hand. “Uhm, nothing interesting”

“No packing?”

“My manager does that for me”

He chuckles. “Right. Chances you’d want to spend your last night in the city at an even less interesting birthday party?”

Osamu waits patiently while you weigh your options, recognizes the confusion in your hesitant stare but doesn’t quite understand why there’s a weary vibration to your voce when you accept, the slight disappointment that flashes across your features.

It’s only fair, you think as he parts from the room with a smile and the command to secure those onigiris in a fridge. If showing you off to his friends like some valuable conquest is the way he wants to even the score, you’re in no position to deny him. You’re the one at fault and you’ve been given a chance to make up for it by wearing the facade you wear best.

Then why does it feel so disheartening, this time?

When Shinsuke opens the door, he’s more surprised by your presence than the carefully wrapped gift in your hands. Not that he doubted Osamu: why send a message to the group chat telling everyone that a) he was bringing someone and b) they should’ve absolutely not behaved any differently than usual if not better (in bold), if he wasn’t actually going to show up with a plus one?

Still, a small part of him did wonder if Atsumu’s and Rintaro’s relentless teasing finally got the best of him. Shinsuke doesn’t think that his friend works too much or that he should start “looking around” before “his hair starts greying again only this once naturally”. He remembers Osamu rolling his eyes at his brother when he implied that at this rate he’s gonna have to tie the knot with the restaurant, only to then space out for most of the evening as everyone else found new topics to migrate toward.

In short, Shinsuke wondered if Osamu was going to come up with a last minute excuse to justify the empty spot next to him at the table. But it seems that spot is going to be taken after all, by you nonetheless.

“Nice to meet you, Kita-san” you smile after Osamu introduces you by your name and nothing else, not a wink, not even a subtle hint or a reasonable explanation “happy birthday”

Shinsuke accepts the gift with a polite thank you and he’s almost made sure you could preserve a nice, normal memory of stepping foot into his house for the first time, of course failing to consider the Hinata factor.

“Thank god, Osamu, I’m so hungry- holy shit! Is her your gift? I only brought a cap that says farm hair don’t care!” there’s a strange but seemingly friendly redhead looking at you with eyes so wide you fear they might roll out of their sockets.

“Shoyo, any chance you checked the chat today?” Osamu smiles at him widely but Kita recognizes the tension at the corners.

“What? Of course not, I was busy picking a cute gift” Hinata smiles too but his excitement is genuine “hello, nice to meet you! Please come in, you can help us set the table!”

You chuckle and meet Osamu’s horrified eyes for a second, his posture relaxes as your gentle reassurance puts him at ease. I’ll be in the other room, then. Leave it to Hinata to make a gigantic deal out of a special guest only to treat her as one of his buddies ten seconds later. You seemed comfortable, though, as one always feels whenever Shoyo happens to be around.

“Who is she?” Shinsuke doesn’t mean for his tone to be so conspiratorial but he keeps it low, just in case you might still hear them.

“A friend. Kinda. Ya wouldn’t believe me” Osamu takes his jacket off and hangs it by the door, then picks up the plethora of bags from the floor and makes his way into his friend’s kitchen.

“No, I mean… who is she? Why does Shoyo know her?” Shinsuke follows suit, intent on helping him distribute all the food he’s brought in the different plates he has prepared. Osamu shakes his initial surprise off with a chuckle.

“Only one of the most famous pop music artists in Japan”

Kita stills his movements for a second, then absorbs the new information with a simple nod. “Right. And you met her at the shop”

“How d’ya know?”

“Where else would you be meeting a pop music artist?”

“Don’t make it sound so obvious” Osamu pulls a face and Shinsuke’s eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Well, she’s here. With you. Is it like… a date?”

“No” the peremptory answer comes embarrassingly fast “it’s her last night in the city, she’s here because she didn’t have anything better planned”

“But you invited her”

“Yes”

“Because you like her”

“I don’t-” Osamu gestures vaguely with his hands “it’s not like that. ‘Tsumu used to have a poster of her face in our room, for fuck’s sake”

Kita hums. “So what you actually mean is it can’t be like that”

“I don’t see the difference”

“I do”

“Well-” a loud commotion Osamu has been trained for over two decades to instantly recognize as his brother’s voice, makes the words die in his throat. By the time him and Shinsuke return to the colorfully decorated living room (courtesy of an overly enthusiastic Hinata and one resigned Rintaro), Atsumu is already talking your ear off and seemingly invading your personal space multiple times as he follows you around the table you’re setting with Suna like a golden retriever on a sugar overload.

“Shoyo, you were supposed to keep her safe” Osamu glares at his brother and takes a mental note to scold Aran too, later. For snickering.

Hinata doesn’t get the chance to defend himself because of course Atsumu’s the only one who could outshine that intense excitement with his own.

“Samu! What the hell? If this is yer gift to Shin, what are ya plannin’ to get me exactly?”

“Can everyone stop assuming she’s here as a thing and not as a person?” it comes out harsher than intended and Osamu feels his face grow hot when all those present simply stare at him. When you stare at him.

Suna clears his throat.

“Cut him some slack, he came out of the bathroom and we could barely convince him she’s not a hallucination” you chuckle at that, which makes the ever stoic Rintaro look away with a faint blush blossoming on his pale cheeks.

“Wait” Atsumu looks at you, then at his brother and his brows become progressively furrowed “she’s here with you? As in, you invited her? And she said yes?”

Osamu wonders why he thought a simple admonishment in the group chat would be enough. He has half an idea of shoving an onigiri right into his brother’s loud mouth and not perform any maneuver whatsoever when the rice obstructs his airways.

“Actually, I wanted to come” you chime in so gently it takes a few moments for him to register the words “I’m leaving tomorrow and when Miya-san mentioned it was one of his friends’ birthday, I shamelessly asked if I could tag along. Hope I’m not a bother”

Kita is looking at you the same way Osamu is, puzzled. Hinata almost chokes on his coke and starts coughing profusely, so much that Aran has to lend him a napkin.

“A bother? No, of course not!” his nose might be on fire but by god, he physically cannot let you believe such nonsense for a second too long.

Atsumu’s mouth hangs wide open, brows still knit that make his expression overall hilarious “you make her call you Miya-san? Yikes, bro” he turns to you and makes a scene of slamming a hand on his chest “please, feel free to call me ‘Tsumu. I think we’re intimate enough by now”

“Given that we took five selfies and you made me sign my name on your abs, I also think we’re intimate enough” your grin seems genuine, which only startles Osamu more.

“Ya made her do what?” oh, there are probably not enough words in the japanese vocabulary for the way he’ll have to apologize at the end of the night.

“It’s fine, I didn’t mind” you shrug “but if I could ask everyone a small favor…”

“Sure, anything!” Atsumu’s interruption only makes your smile grow wider “I’d really like to celebrate Kita-san’s birthday like you’d normally do. Please don’t make a big deal out of me, it’s his night after all”

“She’s asking not to be treated like a circus act” Aran whispers to Hinata, who blinks his big brown eyes in quiet understanding.

“Done!” Atsumu’s fist hits his chest right where the heart is as he solemnly declares “you’re one of the boys now, consider yourself a pal”

“Thanks, ‘Tsumu” he tries to keep his composure but nearly implodes as you direct your attention to Shoyo “no, Hinata-san, this doesn’t mean we won’t be taking that picture I promised. Don’t worry” your wink is the prettiest, most wonderful thing he’s ever witnessed and thank fuck he’s done drinking that coke because his airways suddenly feel clogged.

Kita thinks this is already the most entertaining birthday he’s ever celebrated.

And celebrate his birthday you all do. Normally, as per your request. You sit between Rintaro and Osamu at dinner and masterfully divert the attention from yourself whenever the questions start piling up. The uno reverse technique works well: your curiosity feels flattering and everyone is happy to satisfy it. The questions you direct are extremely specific, your laugh echoes alongside everyone else’s and Osamu can’t help but think that, in some odd way, you fit in seamlessly. 

Keeping his eyes off of you isn’t but a strenuous fight with himself, it’d be lovely if looking would be the only activity he’d be allowed to engage in. It’s not hard to guess why hordes of fans and admirers are so enamoured: you’re such a natural. Polite, poised, funny, charismatic. Making you laugh feels like a privilege, having your brows raise in interest makes the story one’s recounting instantly fascinating. And yet you’re not doing any of that on purpose, he can tell. The one thing you’re being intentionally careful about is avoiding his gaze and making sure your arm doesn’t accidentally brush against his.

Osamu wants to ask himself why but also refuses to indulge in childish fantasies. What, he thought you liked him? Part of him believed you’d accepted to come to some stranger’s birthday party purely to spend an evening with him. Bullshit. Everyone in the world knows who you are and he simply owns an onigiri shop in Hyogo, one you happened to visit by sheer chance. He’s the guy you are so embarrassed to be seen with, you had to come up with a lie to justify your presence at the very same table that seems to adore you.

But when he jokingly throws a grain of rice at Aran, you hide your chuckle behind your hand. If he speaks, you always turn to look. Osamu doesn’t remember a social gathering where he tried to come up with just as many things to say, desperately conjuring genes that always weigh heavier in Atsumu. Unfortunately, the one person he could always count on, his dear friend and trusty supplier, decides his birthday night is the perfect occasion to stab him in the back.

“I’m sorry, I just need to ask” Kita refills your glass with fresh wine from across the table before retracting to his seat once more “your encounter with Osamu, how did it happen exactly?”

“Yeah, was his onigiri so good you wanted to-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Shoyo” Aran clears his throat as Suna, next to you, has a hard time swallowing his stir fry noodles.

“She heard my shop was the best in town, which it is, came to try it. That’s the story” Osamu wishes he could disappear into his kitchen as he often does when things at the restaurant get uncomfortable.

“I don’t buy it” Shinsuke shrugs “is that really the whole story?”

Kita’s knowing stare really hasn’t changed since high school and it seems you’re affected by it just as much as every other human. His eyes bore right into yours, trained to detect hesitation or even the hint of a lie, giving you no escape. Goddamn it, he’s still the team captain, there’s no running from him.

“Well” you gently swirl the glass in your hand, suddenly very much focused on the crimson liquid swooshing inside “I also kissed him”

This time someone does actually choke and, of course, it’s Atsumu. Right as Rintaro utters an ever quiet holy shit, he explodes in a coughing fit and Aran promptly strikes between his shoulder blades with the heel of his hand, perhaps with more force than needed. Thankfully, Atsumu manages to swallow his bite and, despite the tears threatening to run down his cheeks in all their shimmering glory, still conjures the energy needed to point an intimidating finger at his brother “ya bastard!”

“That’s a joke, right?” Hinata’s eyes have once again grown three sizes.

Kita doesn’t ask, the answer is written all over Osamu’s crimson red face. He was right, no one would’ve believed him.

“No, I really did” you take a sip from your glass and now everyone is looking at you like you’re some kind of alien. Except for Atsumu, who’s still glaring daggers at his brother.

“So this is… a date for you two?” Suna’s just as shocked as everyone else but seems to be the only person currently able to string words together.

“Oh, no” you brush the question off with a gracious wave of the hand “I just did it to thank him”

This time the silence stretches for a moment too long. Atsumu seems on the verge of passing out.

“You kissed him to thank him?” Kita cocks his head.

“Yeah. I mean, he was very kind. Have you never kissed someone to thank them?”

“Uh… no. I don’t think so”

“Really?”

“Do you…” Aran hopes to the gods that the words don’t come out the wrong way “do that often?”

“Aran” as much as Osamu wishes the earth could swallow him whole, he doesn’t want you to think his friends may be implying something they’re really not.

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“It’s okay” you let our a nervous chuckle and because Osamu is sitting so close, he hears the shaky breath too “I know it was wrong. I tend to forget that’s not what normal people are used to. I apologized and now we’re good, right, Miya-san?” your eyes meet his and he feels his heart drop right into his stomach.

“Why are you used to that?” he asks instead of replying to your question and you just. Freeze.

“Yeah…” Hinata quietly chimes in “that doesn’t sound like something anyone should be used to”

For the first time, you don’t know how to respond. Osamu senses your panic, can read it in your eyes, but is too baffled to think of something smart or chivalrous to say.

“Holy shit, ya know what that means?” Atsumu slams both his hands on the table and both you and everyone else jump “it means she thinks I’m hot! In another life, I’d have a chance! Sorry, Shin, I know it’s yer birthday but I think this is the best night of my life!”

A quiet, astonished moment follows, then the table erupts in genuine laughter. You’re giggling so much you have to hold your stomach, Kita is shaking his head in resignation, Suna rolls his eyes with affection. Osamu settles for a smile as he relaxes against his chair once more. His brother may be loud and annoyingly inopportune, but his quiet support never once faltered throughout the years. One doesn’t need to be an old acquaintance to be taken under Miya Atsumu’s wing: if he senses as much as the hint of unease, his charismatic idiocy is summoned right away at the service of whoever may need it. Yet his loyalty remains unshakeable: Osamu knows that, in his stupid head, you’re already forbidden territory.

His mind is dizzy with confusion he doesn’t know how to properly address. As Kita blows out the candles on the cake he’s made, Osamu feels a wave of affection inundate his heart. He remembers that are nights like this that are worth being present, even if he has to get up at dawn or his sink is full of dirty dishes and he’s exhausted. Life only ever feels right when he’s with his friends or his family. It’s a routine he’s trained hard to get used to: work, work, work, carve out small moments to spend with those who come and go. It’s important for him to be there, when they come.

Osamu almost misses it, too focused on cleaning an extra plate or two in the kitchen, to make sure the birthday boy can get to relax once they leave. And then you call for him, a small crack in that poised facade of yours when his name almost slips out. You rush into the kitchen and urge him to hurry up, they’re already singing happy birthday to Kita-san. Come on, you’re missing it!

You probably wanted to go for his sleeve and found his hand instead, dragged him out of the room so quickly Osamu barely had the time to put the towel down. For some reason, once in the living room you don’t let go right away and neither does he. You only do so to clap with everyone else and even then it’s not entirely possible to establish who lets go first. Regardless, Osamu gives your hand a light squeeze and hopes you notice, despite there being no signs to indicate that.

You’re the first two people to excuse themselves: he refuses to let you go back to your hotel on your own, doesn’t give two shits that you have a driver or could well afford a cab because it’s a beautiful evening and Osamu is itching to have as little as ten minutes alone with you. He watches as you formally offer a hand to Suna and he grins as he shakes it, gently taking it in between his in a respectful attempt at suggesting that there’s no need to be so ceremonious.

You exchange quick hugs with everyone else, take the picture promised to Hinata, chuckle lightly when Atsumu timidly asks for a kiss on the cheek just because “it’s the american way of saying goodbye!” and of course you accomodate the request. Osamu is almost willing to bet you genuinely had fun but he also can’t seem to shake off the odd feeling suggesting you’ve somehow taken it upon yourself to just… appease everyone for the entire evening. Like some kind of duty. He doesn’t want you to think back to this evening like a task that had to be carried out.

“Oh my god, I cannot fucking believe it!” Atsumu’s shriek echoes loud and clear in the empty street  as soon as Kita shuts the door and you meet Osamu’s exasperated glare.

“I’m genuinely not sure what I should start apologizing for” he runs a hand through his brown hair and his stress makes you smile as you fall into a comfortable walking pace.

“I should start by thanking you for inviting me. Can’t remember the last time I had such a normal night”

“My friends are many things but I don’t know if they really fall into the normal category”

You laugh at that. “I think they’re really nice. It was fun. I didn’t know there were two of you”

Osamu grimaces, lightly shaking his head “good call, he’s the thing I should start apologizing for”

“I liked Atsumu” of course you did, don’t they all? “you’re lucky to have such good friends and a brother. Is it true what they say about weird connections us twinless mortals wouldn’t get?”

He sighs. As much as Osamu hates stereotypes and all the disadvantages that come with not being able to be his own person, the curse of always being considered nothing but part of a set, he knows the bond with Atsumu is just as rare and irreplaceable as people make it out to be.

“Well, I can pretty much always read his mind. But it’s not a twin thing, s’just an Atsumu thing” he shrugs “most transparent, honest person on earth”

“You’re both very kind” your observation strikes him. It hits the nail on the head: he does his best but it’s unusual for someone to notice ‘Tsumu’s selflessness right away.

“Could say the same about ya” he’s eager to direct the topic to the thing he’s really interested in, the one person who refused every bit of attention directed her way throughout the night “that tea collection must’ve costed a fortune. Shinsuke loves tea, yer manager picked well”

You hum, gaze focused on your feet. “Actually, I picked it”

Another thing Osamu has in common with his brother, the ability to royally fuck up in such a short amount of time.

“Oh, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay, happens all the time”

“What happens?”

“People assuming things” you’re not mad, there’s just a sad vibration to your voice. If he could punch himself in the face, he would.

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” Osamu hates the smile you toss at him. He hates it so much he stops in the middle of the sidewalk and watches you turn around, confusion flashing in your disenchanted eyes.

“There’s a pretty cool park ‘round the corner. How about a detour? If you’re not too tired”

You hum in agreement, ask him to lead the way. Careful, Osamu, you’d like to say. This same polite regard is what got me in trouble the first time.

The park, which is more of a garden really, is a slice of eden in the jungle that any city inevitably ends up feeling like. Lowlands, an abundance of irregular but colorful flowerbeds that seem to glow in the dark, the warm air of the evening saturated with the sweet scent of lime trees, a gravel path you both follow all the way to a small, wooden playground. It’s only natural to gravitate toward the swings, relish in the comfort of the stillness the evening offers. It always feels like the earth rotates slower, pace decelerating to give you more time to enjoy the things it’s hard to appreciate during your hectic days.

Osamu approaches the swing like an old friend, takes hold of the chains with both hands. He lightly pushes off the ground with his feet while pulling back, giving you a perfect view of his perfect profile.

“I don’t want to assume” he says quietly “so is it okay if I ask?”

“Yeah” you rest your head on the chain you’re holding, still looking at him who won’t look at you.

“Why did you tell ‘Tsumu you asked me to come tonight?” the actual question dies in his throat. Were you that embarrassed of being there with me?

“You seemed pretty self-conscious. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable” and I guess that way, you got to seem cooler.

Osamu almost chokes on his own spit from how surprised he is by your answer. What the fuck.

“I wasn’t-” not for the reason you seem to believe “I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable!”

You smile, patiently waiting for the moment where he’ll finally turn to meet your gaze instead of persistently staring at his feet. “I don’t think I ever felt that comfortable in a room filled with men”

“That shouldn’t be an exceptional occurrence”

“Right. But it is”

He spends a few moments trying to come up with the right words, a handful of seconds spent with part of his brain wishing he could have a talk with all the men who made you feel unsafe. How many? Where, why? Are they the reason why Osamu wants to get so desperately close and yet keep a respectful distance, not to scare you off, not to be another name added to the list of creeps you surely hate?

“Why did you kiss me?” those are far from being the right, considerate words he was trying to summon, but they bubble up from his throat before he can stop them.

You hum, pensive “I don’t know. You’re pretty, you’re gentle, I thought t’was what you expected to happen. It’s what men usually expect in return”

“In return for what?” he fights the urge to keep his eyes down, confident that the darkness will conceal the redness of his cheeks. You think he’s pretty and the first thing his dumb brain is able to link the revelation to, is Atsumu. Shit, he was right, this means you do find him attractive as well.

“Anything, really” your chuckle is devoid of actual humor “I know this night was supposed to make up for it but I didn’t expect to have so much fun. Regardless, I hope we’re even now”

Osamu furrows his brows.

“Ya think that’s why I invited ya?”

“Why else?”

He almost laughs, incredulous. You hide that mistrust really well, Osamu has to give it you. It feels unfair that life has given someone who seemingly has everything, so many reasons to think you can only be seen as an empty shell, some trophy with the sole purpose of being flaunted.

“You said you were leaving. I didn’t like the idea of not seeing you again”

“Really?” your lips curl into a small smile “the weird girl who jumped you on your first meeting?”

“You’re weird” he concedes “and selfless. Intelligent. Maybe jokes are not your forte but, hey, ya get to look like that” your laugh compliments his really well and Osamu can’t help but think he’d like to sit in a park, in the middle of the night, and talk and laugh and be with you just once more.

You briefly wonder if the man sitting so close to you is aware of just how devastatingly charming he is. Part of you wishes he’d want to take you out on a proper date, let you meet his friends on different occasions, include a weird stranger in such a well balanced life. Part of you also knows you’d never want to ruin that for him. Not for someone like Osamu. People who are unfortunate enough to stumble across you are almost always harassed away, it’s a life you’re used to and can’t bring yourself to run from. It’s who you are and, most importantly, all you have. It’d be too dangerous for your heart to desire anything different.

But he’s looking at you as if you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, land emerged from the sea millions of years ago for his eyes only to experience such a sight. No one’s ever looked at you with such wonder.

“I don’t want to assume” he holds your gaze locked to his, swing dangling lightly as he leans closer “so is it okay if I ask?”

“Yes” you utter a little too breathlessly.

“Can I kiss ya?”

You hum in affirmation and close your eyes, heart beating a little faster than what you’re used to as you sense his proximity. He smells nice, radiates warmth and his soft hair tickles a little when his lips gently press to your cheek.

Osamu smiles when he catches a glimpse of disappointment flashing over your features, the first of many clues he wants to learn how to interpret correctly. The cracks in a facade he’d make his personal mission to tear down.

“I know you have to go away tomorrow” he gently moves a strand of hair away from your forehead “but I wondered, if you didn’t, whether you might let me see ya a little. Or a lot, maybe”

You lean into his touch, calloused fingertips still barely grazing your skin.

“A lot sounds good”

[cinderella-ish]

Kyo, Momiji, and the beach trip that changed everything (part 4 of 5)

So, the beach arc is one of the best parts of the beautiful story that is Fruits Basket. Functionally, it's the midpoint, occurring from chapters 54-65 (out of 136) of the manga, and episodes 31-35 (out of 63) of the anime.

What is the midpoint in story structure? From author K.M. Weiland's site Helping Writers Become Authors:

As the centerpiece of the story, the Midpoint in many ways encapsulates the entire point of the story. Plot, character arc, and theme all coincide here (more obviously even than usual) to provide the protagonist with at least the opportunity to see the world in a different and potentially more functional way than previously. Depending on what the character realizes and accepts at the Midpoint, he should be able to use this new knowledge to move onward more effectively toward the plot goal.

In the article I linked above, Weiland talks about the two halves of the story's midpoint: first is the plot revelation, where something key about the external plot is revealed to the protagonist; and second is the moment of truth, where the protagonist uses that new information to change their perspective on the story.

For Tohru, the main protagonist, the plot revelation is when Akito reveals that the cursed Sohmas will all return to her and Kyo will be confined after graduation. The moment of truth is when she decides she wants to break the curse.

For Yuki, second protagonist, the plot revelation is that Tohru was the little girl he saved all those years ago, and the moment of truth is that it's time for him to "open the lid" and accept his feelings for what they are.

Even Hiro experiences his own midpoint shift. His plot revelation is that Tohru, like him, has her own feelings hidden deep in her heart, and that she covers up her pain with a smile. His moment of truth is that he wants to stop taking out his frustration on Tohru.

So, let's look at the beach arc as it pertains to Momiji and Kyo and their character arcs.

First, we have this cute little moment where Momiji comes to let Kyo know about the trip.

Momiji: Kyo! Hey, Kyo. You sick? Kyo: I'm tired. I don't have the energy to talk to you. Get out. Momiji: Got it. *inhales* We're going to the vacation house tomorrow, so get packed! Kyo: (angrily) You don't get it! (calmly) Wait, tomorrow? To the vacation house? Momiji: Yep! Kyo: Don't 'Yep' me! Momiji: Wah! Kyo hit me! But you'll come, right? You won't say no, right? Right? Kyo: Stop bugging me. Momiji: Tohru will be sad if you don't come. We'll play together! We'll swim together! Kyo: I said to stop bugging me! I never said I wouldn't go. Sheesh. I'm so tired. Momiji: You've gotten nicer. Kyo: Huh? Momiji: Nothing! Oh yeah, I'm gonna catch stag beetles! And Hercules beetles! Kyo: You're being serious?

I love that Momiji is consistently the one to invite Kyo to do things. While Yuki is helping Tohru finish her homework, Momiji tells Kyo about the trip in the most obnoxious way possible. Kyo gets annoyed, naturally, and gives Momiji a bonk on the head. Momiji pretends to cry (as usual), but then asks Kyo if he'll come.

Momiji seems genuinely worried that Kyo won't come, and goes right for Kyo's weak spot to manipulate him, saying, "Tohru will be sad if you don't come."

I also love the soft look on Momiji's face when he says to Kyo, "You've gotten nicer." Cuuuuuute.

After they arrive, there are a few cute moments in the first day or so at the beach. When Momiji points out Tohru's swimming and Kyo goes to rescue her (because he knows she's holding her breath), he asks Momiji to teach her how to breathe while swimming. Here, Kyo demonstrates a great deal of trust in Momiji. Tohru's safety is the most important thing to him, and he's trusting Momiji to look out for her safety, too.

I also love Momiji's comment when Yuki baits Kyo into staying in the water to race. "They should just swim like normal people. How childish." Yeah, okay Momiji.

Later (and this may be a change for the anime, as I couldn't find it in the manga), when they're all looking at the beetles, Momiji says Kyo is the person who taught him the sugar water trick.

But soon, Akito arrives, and everything changes.

This is a great scene for understanding how Akito operates as an abuser, but to keep the focus on Kyo, it's when Akito brings up Tohru that Kyo's entire demeanor changes. He'd been crying, begging Akito to stop, at his lowest point both literally and figuratively, when Akito shifts the conversation from Kyo's mother (and, in his mind, Kyoko) to Tohru, and her reaction to his True Form.

He immediately shifts from self-pity to fear and then anger, yelling back at Akito, defending Tohru from Akito's accusations, even when Akito is yelling at him to shut up. Suddenly, he falls quiet, and we hear his internal monologue:

She knew that if she let go of my hand, I would never return. That I might never return to anybody. She didn't take up all my pain. She didn't fill in all the brokenness. But those... those weren't important. The most important thing was that she stayed with me. Finding joy in the smallest things, being happy and smiling so cheerfully... Why? She should think of herself more. Why? Doesn't she think she's getting the short end of the stick? She thinks that she's stupid, or that there's nothing good about her.

And then we see Momiji and hear his voice.

It's a waste of time to think about loss or life getting harder. The traveler never thought about that stuff. Even if other people think that makes her an idiot, I just don't. That's all. Yuki, Kyo, What about you? What do you think when you close your eyes?

We then see Kyo with his hands over his eyes, interspersed with images of Tohru and the sound of her saying his name, as he lowers his hands and looks directly at the camera, articulating exactly how he feels about Tohru.

I love you. I love you so much. Just as you are.

It's a great callback to The Foolish Traveler, and the way Momiji closed his eyes when he was reflecting on how he interpreted the story, opening them when he realized he saw it differently than his classmates.

The sequence where Kyo finally realizes his feelings for Tohru is beautiful, possibly one of the best-done sequences in the anime. It's painful and moving and both Yuma Uchida and Jerry Jewell deliver gorgeous performances as Kyo. This is Kyo's plot revelation.

But most importantly (for the purposes of this series of posts, at least), it's Momiji whose voice Kyo hears at this crucial moment. It's Momiji whose words lead Kyo to realize he's in love with Tohru.

There's a lot that happens between Kyo's revelation that he loves Tohru and when he finds her on the beach that evening, but it's less important to the relationship between Kyo and Momiji, so I won't include it in this post.

What is important, though, is Kyo's moment of truth. The thing he decides is to spend as much time with Tohru as possible while he's still free.

I love you. I don't want to take anything else from you. I don't want to trample you ever again. At some point, I hoped we could always be together somewhere far off, but I won't hope that anymore. I won't hope that I could make you my own anymore. I won't hope that, so please, at least... at least be by my side for the time I have left. I want to be with you. Until we're separated far apart.. until the last moment.

I wonder who put that idea in his head?

In the next episode, we get this conversation between Kyo and Momiji.

Momiji: Kyo, Akito didn't call you in tomorrow, right? Kyo: Nope. Momiji: Really? If I thought, 'Good for you,' would you get mad? Kyo: I wondered why you all abandoned Tohru as you were told like good little kids. But I see. If you prioritized Tohru over Akito, Akito would get mad, huh? That would just make Tohru look bad. You guys, including Yuki, were protecting Tohru from Akito, huh? Momiji: You make it sound like we were doing such a good thing. But that's not it. We've- I've been doing it all wrong. I'm selfish for wanting to make memories with Tohru, despite everything. I'm selfish for loving Tohru so much. Kyo: I'm selfish, too. Momiji: Hmm? Kyo: Never mind. Anyway, weren't you going on about watching something on TV earlier? Tohru: Momiji-kun! Kyo-kun! Momiji: I was so scared! Kyo was trying to mug me! Tohru: What? Kyo: Seriously, you think I'm some delinquent?!

They both display a vulnerability and honesty here that they've really only shown before to Tohru. Kyo's reflecting on his anger at Yuki, and Momiji's being much more straightforward than he usually is, stating his realizations as they're coming to him, rather than using them to manipulate. I also love the detail of Momiji correcting from "We've" to "I've." It really shows the change in his maturity that occurred during this arc.

I see this as Momiji's plot revelation, that fun isn't the most important thing when you love someone.

This is also the first time Kyo verbalizes his feelings for Tohru out loud, if obliquely. When he smiles to himself and says, "I'm selfish, too," he's referencing what Momiji just said, that he's selfish for loving Tohru so much. It's notable that the first time he does this is in front of Momiji, even if he doesn't repeat it when it's clear Momiji didn't hear what he said.

I think, from this point on, Momiji and Kyo are trusted confidants for each other. This will come up more in part 5, but I really just love the way their relationship matures here.

And then, Akito returns.

This is one of the most harrowing sequences in the anime. We know Akito's already in a bad mood, we know she blames Tohru for taking away her Zodiac, and we've seen exactly how she abuses those she serves as god.

Momiji: Akito. What are you doing here so late? Akito: I came to see Honda Tohru-san. I have to return home suddenly, you see. But I haven't seen Honda Tohru-san yet. Momiji: Right now? But Tohru's most likely sleeping. Akito: Wake her. Momiji: No. Akito, you're mad right now, right? You'll take out your anger on her, huh? Akito, what's wrong? Why are you so mad? Did something happen? Akito: Something happen? What? Why do you need to know? You want to get to know me? To understand me? Why? [Akito punches Momiji] Akito: You make me sick! Understand? Understand me? You just want to belittle me! You just want to define me by your twisted logic, to paint me as a villain! Tohru: Stop, please! Momiji: T- Tohru: Sto- stop, please! Akito: Stop? You're giving me an order. Terrible. Terrible. You're not a very nice person. Momiji: Akito! Akito: But Tohru. Honda Tohru, I was kind enough to come see you. I don't care how disrespectful you are to me. There's... there's something I came to tell you. Don't be so full of it, scum. You might think you saved Yuki and Kyo. Better take that arrogance down a notch right now. Let me tell you something. I'll tell you. Kyo, you see, after high school, will be confined. Just like the previous cat, confined for life.

It's here that we see Momiji is no longer there. In the manga, we see Momiji run away. Akito and Tohru's conflict continues, but I want to focus on Momiji's actions here.

When he understands the situation, he starts gently, reasoning that Tohru is probably sleeping. When that doesn't work, he moves to defy his god in order to protect her.

When Tohru shows up and puts herself between Momiji and Akito, Momiji is clearly upset. He'd only wanted to keep her from getting hurt, and now she's trying to protect him. He feels like he's failed, but the danger is still happening. When Akito takes Tohru by the head and starts telling her about Kyo's impending confinement, he runs for help.

Momiji likely blames himself for Tohru getting hurt. It was his idea to go to the beach house, and he angered Akito before Tohru arrived. His moment of truth is that he needs to focus on protecting Tohru and consider her safety in the future.

I wonder where he got that idea.

It's worth noting that this scene happens the same night as his hallway conversation with Kyo. While Kyo was beginning to understand that fighting isn't the only way to protect someone, and that sometimes you need to keep your head down and play the role in which you've been cast in order to protect someone, Momiji was learning the opposite lesson, that sometimes, you need to acknowledge the hard truths about a situation, that fun and pleasure don't erase pain, and that some things are worth fighting for.

Akito and Tohru's conflict ends when Kureno arrives and takes Akito back to the estate. Next, Shigure and Hatori arrive, and when Tohru asks why they're there, Shigure reveals where Momiji ran off to.

Shigure: Momicchi ran to me in terror. I didn't know what was wrong. Tohru: Is Momiji-kun hurt!? Where's Momiji-kun!? Hatori: Don't worry. He's right there. Tohru: Momiji-kun! Momiji-kun, are you all right?

Momiji tries to smile, but he can't, and he breaks down instead.

We've seen Momiji fake cry dozens of times before now. We've seen real tears from him only twice: once when he told Tohru about his mother (and even then, it was only after he transformed that he let himself cry), and once on Kisa's behalf, when he was telling the others about her bullying, and that he imagined how he'd feel if people laughed every time he spoke.

But this is the first time we've seen him break down.

Again, Momiji is blaming himself for what happened. He sees the mark on Tohru's face, and he knows she got hurt even worse after he left. He's upset that she ended up protecting him instead. He believes he's failed in every way. It's a feeling Kyo's incredibly familiar with.

But even though Momiji thinks he's responsible for Tohru getting hurt, everyone acknowledges he did something very difficult and brave.

Shigure: Well, Momicchi really hung in there. Compared to him, look at the other young folk. Hatori: Compared to him, look at us... right?

It's then revealed that Yuki, Kyo, and Haru were watching from just inside, and Haru was physically holding Kyo back from intervening.

Haru: See, Akito left. I told you Momiji would get the older ones. Kyo: I'm so pathetic I could puke.

Kyo is ashamed that he didn't act, even though he knows it wouldn't have helped, and might have gotten Tohru hurt worse.

Momiji and Kyo both feel responsible, but by thinking themselves responsible, they belie the fact that they don't hold the other person responsible. Kyo sees that Momiji actually did something, that he stood up to Akito, while he stood back and let Tohru get hurt. Momiji isn't upset that no one else stood up to Akito beside him. He's not even sure that was the right thing to have done.

But they're both wrong, of course. The only person who's actually responsible for Tohru getting hurt is Akito.

Thankfully, the arc ends with a nice moment of everyone enjoying fireworks together. They've all changed, but some things will always be the same.

Momiji: Let's do some sparklers together! Tohru: Okay! Momiji: Kyo! Come do them with us, Kyo! Kyo: So annoying. Just do them without me!

Yuki then baits Kyo into joining them, and the four sit together and do fireworks.

Even after everything that's happened, Momiji's still the one who invites Kyo to join in the fun.

Momiji and Kyo: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

[crackedpumpkin]

|| ʙᴀᴅ ɴᴇᴡꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ꜰɪᴠᴇ ||

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“For someone who claims to be a scientist, you sure aren’t very smart.”

You glance down at Hiro’s messy notebook filled with scrawls and doodles, even a simple two-plus-two equation scribbled on one side. The boy in question just groans in response, his head on his desk.

“Shut up,” He grumbles, trying to swat you away with an annoyed hand. “Don’t you have a job or something?”

“In fact, I do! And I’m getting paid by my boss to bring coffee up to you, so be grateful, you stinkbug.” You practically push him off the chair, and he slides onto the floor with a defeated and very drawn-out groan of complaint.

“Tadashiiiii, get her away!” Hiro whines loudly. His brother is stretched on his bed in a relaxed position, typing away on his phone, seemingly engrossed in a conversation. 

“Mmhm, have fun, kids,” He hums in response, not even bothering to look up. You smirk, sitting on Hiro’s chair and flipping through his notebook. He doesn’t do anything to stop you, merely moving to sit cross-legged on the floor as he absentmindedly toys with his MegaBot.

It’d been over a week since you started working at the Lucky Cat cafe, having gotten to know the two Hamada brothers a little more since your first few days there. Over time, you’d learnt that Tadashi was the go-to for anything under the sun while Hiro…is there. 

Well, he does have some merit to him, you suppose. He’d helped you fix the espresso machine when it broke down during a shift once without a grumble, though he did express repayment in the form of many cups of coffee provided by you. However, the two of you were somewhat like oil and water — you just didn’t mix well. 

There were occasions where you did share the same view, of course, such as Tadashi’s love life and, likewise, your love for coffee. Hangouts during your break time were mainly spent in their room, talking gaily about trivial things ranging from their go-to WackDonald’s order, to heavy topics such as the discovery of mummies.

Conversations were never dull, to say the least.

“I understand nothing,” You hand back the notepad with a blank smile, having leafed through pages and pages of equations and barely legible handwriting. Hiro scoffs, taking it from you. 

“For a self-proclaimed journalist, you’re not very bright.” 

“Whatever,” You roll your eyes, taking a sip from the mug on his desk you’ve claimed as yours. Hiro’s own cup sits snugly in a corner, and dried coffee stains are all that’s left after he’s chugged it all down in the span of an hour.

It’s your shift's break time, and you decided to hang out with Hiro and Tadashi because why not? You’re bored, and one is significantly better to be around. (It’s Tadashi.)

“Tadashi, you need a refill?” You ask, hesitating when you see his cup is still filled to the brim with his mocha. Hiro snorts at his brother’s gaze that’s trained solely on his phone screen, shaking his head no in response to your unanswered question. 

“It’s fine. He’s busy flirting.” 

“I am not!” Tadashi huffs when he registers Hiro’s words, setting down the phone and glaring at the little punk with cheeks so red they could rival even the neon signboard opposite the cafe. 

“Oooo, does Tadashi have a crush?” You remark with a cheeky grin, giggling mischievously as Hiro snickers with you. You fist bump him subtly, eyes filled with pure intrigue and evil curiosity directed at the oldest. “So, who’s she?”

“ ‘She’ is none of your business.” He lays back down, turns his phone off and grabs a book from his bedside shelf. He opens it to a random page, furiously reading the words as if it’d help to ignore whatever expressions are on your face. “I swear, the only time the two of you work together, and it’s to mess with me.” He mutters under his breath.

“Mmhm.” Hiro chooses to let it go, but only for now. You chuckle, getting back up and dusting off your jeans. You check your watch, only to see that it’s reaching the end of your break time. “You staying for dinner?” You hum in thought at the question, recalling Sakura saying something about being out tonight. 

“Sure,” You reply with a shrug, “I don’t think anyone’s gonna be home. Why? You’ll miss me that much already?” You tease with a toothy grin, knowing full well that it’d be the opposite. Hiro gags in response, sticking his tongue out in disgust. 

“You wish. Cass just asked us to tell you to stay for dinner anytime. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t.” He says snarkily, crossing his arms.

“Well, it’s your lucky day. I’ll be staying for dinner the whole week!” You cheer, doing jazz hands to irritate him even further. Hiro rolls his eyes, getting back up from the floor and reclaiming the chair. 

“See you later!” You call over your shoulder as you exit their room, heading back downstairs to the cafe, where you resume your usual duties. Cass welcomes you with a smile, and you tie your apron back on before stepping behind the counter, falling back into your regular routine of handling the espresso machine with expertise. 

The hours pass quickly, but you can feel the subtle ache in your muscles gradually builds up. You hand another cup of coffee to a customer with an automatic smile, your cheeks numb to the sensation. Once they leave, your shoulders sag in relief. Leaning back with a weary smile, your back longs for the sweet comfort of your bed and a massage. 

“You alright, hon’?” Looking up at Cass, you send her a weary smile in response to her concerned question. “I’ll be fine, but I might go back home right after dinner,” You reply with a breathy chuckle.

“Okay, just make sure to text us when you’re back.” You follow her up the stairs once she’s done closing the cafe, having helped clear and wipe down the tables. The kitchen is familiar to you now, having grabbed many meals from the fridge and heated them up in the microwave. 

“I think you’ll really like the menu tonight. It’s gonna be mac n’ cheese!” She cheers, heading over to the stove and starting to prepare dinner. Opening the drawers that store the cutlery and plates, you lay them on the table in their usual spots. One for Hiro, one for Tadashi, one for Cass, and one for you.

“Could you call the boys down for me? My hands are a little full right now,” She chuckles, nodding her chin to the container of flour in her arms, a spoon in her free hand to scoop out the needed amount. You send her a silly two-fingered salute, skipping back up the stairs to summon the two Hamada brothers.

“I’m comin’ in, don’t be naked, please!” You warn playfully with a single knock on their door before entering. 

“Didn’t know you were such a pervert.” 

“Am not! I just prefer to keep my eyes untainted by your hideous self,” You gasp, offended by Hiro’s words. He merely laughs in response, turning his chair to face you and getting up. 

“What’s for dinner tonight?”

“Mac n’ cheese.” Tadashi beams at your response, slinging an arm around your shoulders. He does the same to Hiro, the sudden weight almost knocking the breath out of you. “Now, now, children. Get along during dinner, and don’t leave any leftovers.”

Hiro bats his arm away with a glare. “I can behave myself. I’m not a child, unlike a certain someone.”

“You’re literally the same age as me!”

“And yet, so much more mature.” He smirks. Your jaw drops at his reply, struggling to fire back a retort. 

“Drop dead.” You grumble instead, returning down the stairs with your mood instantly soured. 

“Don’t you think that might’ve been a little much?”

“What? I was just stating facts!” 

Tadashi raises a brow. Hiro holds his defiant stare for a few moments, only to groan exaggeratedly with a roll of his eyes as he relents. “Fine. I’ll be nicer. But she can take it; that’s our whole thing!”

“Really? Being mean is your go-to conversation starter?”

“It works, doesn’t it?”

Unable to hide his amused smile, Tadashi grabs Hiro and ruffles his hair roughly with a soft laugh. “Be nicer.” He reminds before letting go and heading downstairs. 

“Ugh,” Hiro mutters, trying to use his fingers to comb his hair back into his usual style. 

“Something wrong dear?” Cass asks as you slide into your seat. You take a deep breath and exhale, calming yourself before perking up and shaking your head. “I’m fine, don’t worry!”

“If you say so…” 

You’re cheered up by the pot of mac ‘n cheese she sets down in the middle of the table, the heavenly smell filling the room and making your stomach rumble. Tadashi slides into the seat on your left while Cass sits on your right, placing down a plate of garlic bread and a small bowl of salad at the same time. 

Spotting Hiro walking down the stairs, you turn your head away, pretending not to see him as he sits opposite you. You ladle a portion of the cheesy goodness onto your plate, beginning to crunch down on a slice of garlic bread after. A happy hum alerts Cass to your bright smile, 

her heart practically melting at how much you’re enjoying the simple home-cooked meal. 

“Since you’re staying for dinner the whole week, is there anything you’re craving? Just let me know so I can drop by the grocery store and grab whatever I need.” 

You shake your head, not wanting to inconvenience her further than you already have. Being hired as a part-timer and even having meals for free is more than enough for you. 

Swallowing down the last of your garlic bread, you clear your throat. “I crave just about anything you make, Cass.” 

You’re suddenly engulfed in a warm side hug, smiling awkwardly until she finally lets go. Her fingers grip your shoulders excitedly, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Got it. I’ll pull out all the stops for some hot wings on Wednesday!”

“Are those the ones so hot they’ll melt our faces off?” Hiro asks, suddenly interested in the conversation. He looks up from shovelling spoonfuls of mac n’ cheese in his mouth, talking through his chews.

Cass reaches over and smacks his arm lightly. “No talking with food in your mouth, young man.” She scolds lightly, “But yes, they’ll melt your faces off, so make sure you’re prepared!”

“Can’t wait.” Hiro grins widely, chomping down on some garlic bread. “To see you cry from the spice.” 

“Oh no. I can handle my spice, little one. You’re the one who should prepare a carton of milk when your tongue’s practically melting.” You shake your head with a scoff.

“Says you, loser.”

“You’re the loser.”

“I know you are, but what am I?”

“A loser.”

“Okay, what did we say about behaving?” Tadashi reprimands you both. Your cheeks warm, slouching in your seat from embarrassment at how immature you were being. The Hamada family (save for Hiro) welcomed you with open arms, only for you to repay them by acting like a child. 

“He started it….” You protest weakly, only to purse your lips into a pout when Tadashi gives you a stern look. Hiro is slumped in a similar position, only to pick up his spoon to eat another mouthful of mac n’ cheese.

“Hiro.” 

“Fine,” Hiro heaves an exaggerated sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Tadashi looks back at you, raising his brows expectantly. You look back at Hiro, who’s also waiting for you to reciprocate his apology. You straighten your back, sitting upright. “I’m sorry.” 

Yeah, you could be the bigger person here. Besides, your aching muscles were already screaming at you for slouching. Tadashi sits back with a satisfied smile, continuing to eat while Cass watches the entire thing go down, stunned and unable to interject.

The rest of the meal continues in peace, with Cass making small talk and you responding in kind. Once the dinner is over, you stand up to do the dishes, wincing when your shoulders groan in protest. Cass spots your expression, gently moving you to sit back down.

“Hiro, would you be a dear and walk her back home?” 

He parts his lips to protest, only to falter when he sees his brother’s pointed stare, recalling the conversation from earlier. “Fine,” He sighs, standing up and going downstairs.

“Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow!” You wave goodbye to both of them who're cleaning up, walking downstairs and grabbing your bag along the way. To your surprise, Hiro holds the door open for you, exiting after you do.

“So, which way, loser?” 

You glare at him. “That way, loser.” 

Hiro has to jog to catch up to you, chuckling at your reaction. You walk side by side in silence and navigate the familiar streets before your steps slow to a halt. You look up at the sky, sniffing the air and spot dark clouds gathering in an ominous cluster above you.

“Wha-?”

“I smell rain.” You interrupt him. True enough, a loud rumble echoes through the sky and it starts to rain. “Damn it, I didn’t bring an umbrella.” You mutter, digging through your bag while Hiro automatically shifts his hoodie to cover his head.

“You didn’t bring an umbrella with you?” He frowns at your raised voice though he knows it’s because of the sound of rain pelting against hard surfaces, making it hard to hear, crossing his arms as the rain starts to come down harshly on the both of you. “Hey, it’s not like they said it was gonna rain tonight!” He defends himself.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s just find a shelter.”You spot a bus stop a short distance away, your shirt quickly getting soaked through. Hiro’s no better, his hoodie practically drenched by the time the both of you jog to the bus stop. He takes it off with a disgusted shiver, letting the soaked hoodie rest in a pile on the bus seat. 

Luckily, no one else is around. You wring your hair, getting as much rainwater out of it as possible. “So, you can smell the rain?” 

You glance up, nodding briefly. “Well, it’s kinda more like a weird sixth sense, but it only works moments before it starts raining.” 

“That’s actually kinda cool,” He comments absentmindedly, twisting the end of his shirt to squeeze out the excess water from the rain. The rain continues drumming against the plastic roof and walls of the sheltered bus stop with force so harsh you’re almost sure the plastic will break. 

Hiro’s subtle shiver doesn’t escape your notice, your body reacting automatically to the cold breeze that brushes past your bare skin. It’s chilly, you realise, sparing him a quick glance. Your arms wrap around yourself in a small hug, teeth chattering slightly as you try to control the involuntary shivers. Hiro’s no better off than you, sitting a short distance from you. He’s shivering nonstop, trembling hands clutching his thin shirt. 

Should you?

There’s really nothing to lose, so may as well.

“Hey, loser.” His head snaps up, turning to look at you with a raised brow. “Get over here.” You order, gesturing for him to move closer. He purses his lips in thought, regarding you with a suspicion-filled gaze. “I’m not gonna hit you, so scooch your butt over here.”

He ignores the roll of your eyes, slowly moving over till he’s right next to you. Instead of pushing him away, however, you press yourself against his side. The sensation of his wet shirt sticking to the side of your arm makes you shudder, Hiro flinching away in surprise. 

“What are you doing?” He says indignantly, using his elbow to shove you away. You scoff. “Calm down; I’m trying to conserve both our body heat. I thought you were a ‘scientist’, albeit fake.”

“I am a scientist.” Hiro retorts. 

“Whatever you say, now get back over here so we both don’t freeze.” 

He reluctantly gives in with a soft grumble, moving to sit next to you again. Your positions are awkward, but you decide it’d make do for now. San Fransokyo is beautiful, but the night weather can get unreasonably cold during the change of seasons. The rain continues to pelt against the sturdy plastic, and you watch it drip off the leaves of a tree nearby. The howling wind brushes against your ears again, and you instinctively draw closer to the boy next to you.

You feel his arm wrap around you, looking up in curiosity only to see him wince. “It’s freezing,” He allows himself to admit through a quick breath. Nodding in agreement, a sudden thud against the roof makes you both flinch. Looking up, you spot a branch that landed on top, having broken off from the nearby tree.

You glance at Hiro, meeting his eyes before the both of you dissolve into relieved laughter. Your shoulders shake with chuckles, wiping the tears that form in the corner of your eyes with a soft giggle. “Guess we’re both kinda scaredy cats, huh?”

“Says you; I wasn’t affected at all.” Hiro jokes with a grin, nudging your side. You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I see where this is going, Einstein.”

“Einstein? Aren’t you admitting your inferior intelligence a little too soon?”

The bite in his words is less distinct than before, the usual harsh and condescending tone now softer, almost playful. “Mmhm, keep dreaming.” You hum in return, a relaxed smile on your lips as the once harsh rain starts to let up.

“How’s the progress on your microbots coming along?”

“You know about that?”

“Of course. Tadashi keeps me updated when he helps out at the cafe.” Hiro’s wide eyes elicit a gentle chuckle from you, shrugging nonchalantly at his surprise. “You ask about me?”

“No,” He frowns. “But it looks like it’s going well for you.”

“Yeah, well. What can I say? I’m just too smart for my own good sometimes.” 

“Yeah, sometimes.” You snort, shaking your head. “Anyway, how’s it coming along?”

“It’s actually going pretty good,” He admits, “I got the base stuff down; I’m just having trouble with the headband configurations. Gotta code it out and everything. Luckily Tadashi offered to help look it over, and Wasabi offered to check my design.”

“Wasabi’s pretty cool. God, that day we met was a mess, wasn’t it?” You laugh, looking up at the clouds that are slowly parting, the rain slowing to a drizzle. 

“Don’t even remind me. Carbon metal embrittlement was sick, but not sick enough for me to be covered in pink.” Hiro shakes his head.

“I thought it was pretty cool, actually.” 

“ ‘Course you did.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?” You shove him lightly, and he falls onto the bench with an amused laugh. You stand up, offering your hand to him. “Looks like the rain’s stopped. C’mon, I’ll wash your hoodie at my place - it’s the least I can do since you agreed to walk me back.” You grab the mentioned hoodie, nose scrunching when you register precisely how wet it is, the material heavy in your arms.

“Thanks.” 

The road back to your apartment is riddled with puddles, and you sneak him a glance before jumping into one with a carefree smile, splashing Hiro slightly. He shoots you an annoyed glance, only to reciprocate the action and spray your jeans as he jumps into a giant puddle.

“Hey!” you protest, though his mischief-filled eyes are now searching for another puddle to jump in. The tension between you two has dissolved chiefly to some extent, and you find yourself actually enjoying the walk home. Maybe you’ll even bump him up into friend status if he continues being this nice.

“So, how’s your ‘journalism’ going?” He chooses to ask after the both of you have splashed each other to your fill, balancing himself along the side of the pavement with ease. The lack of cars on the road doesn’t help your worries, choosing to tug him back into the safer inner corner of the walkway. 

“My ‘journalism’ is going fine, actually. I’ve been interviewing Tadashi about Baymax for a while now, and I think it’s gonna be a really solid article.” You say, pride stirring in your chest at the reminder of the various open tabs on your laptop back home, the Word document with your nearly complete article just waiting for you to conclude it.

“Sure, like he needs any help getting the word out there with your ‘journalism’.” 

Your steps slow to a stop in the middle of a shallow puddle, brows furrowing in confusion at Hiro’s words. They weren’t filled with malice by any means, but they weren’t exactly pleasant to hear either.

“What?” Hiro turns to look at you with a cheery smile, beckoning for you to continue walking. You take a step toward him, crossing your arms.

“What do you mean ‘my journalism’?” You mimic his air quotes, your arms returning to cross over your chest as you wait for his answer.

“Uh”, He chuckles, “I just mean that Tadashi doesn’t need journalism to get the word out there about his awesome invention. Look, I’m not trying to insult you or anything, but…journalists can be kinda dumb sometimes.” 

“Excuse me?”

“Look, take it from me. They write boring articles that ask Tadashi about his partner, the nerd lab, but never about his invention and the correct details. Journalists are dumb. ‘Cept for you, of course, but you’re gonna have to prove yourself.” He punches your side lightly jokingly, waiting for you to laugh at his joke. 

Except you don’t.

You stand there with your arms crossed and narrowed eyes, glaring at the boy before you. “Journalism isn’t dumb.” You say slowly, stressing every word. 

“Sure,” He shrugs it off. “But can we go now? My legs are kinda getting numb.”

“God, you’re such a jerk. How did I even think you were decent for a single second?”

“Woah, jerk? Dude, if this is about the journalism comment, I said except you, okay? Plus, I was only half-joking. Don’t take it seriously.” He raises his hands in mock surrender, only to yelp when you punch his arm harshly. 

“What was that for?!” 

“For being such a jerk. And for calling journalism dumb. I seriously can’t believe I was gonna bump you up into friend status.”

“Well, don’t then. It’s not like I asked to be your friend. And to be clear, you’re definitely never getting friend status from me either.” The both of you are glaring at each other now, the hostile tension rising with every passing second.

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"Good!”

You storm off with a scowl, not even bothering to look behind you to check if Hiro’s still following. A few streets down, and you finally calm down somewhat, glancing behind you to see no one except the bright streetlights. Guess he hadn’t bothered to continue walking you home.

A sudden sneeze sneaks up on you, doubling over as you sneeze not once, not twice, but thrice. Your nose feels stuffy, and your fatigued body feels sluggish. You look down at your hand, only to sneeze once more. You stand back up, sniffling. 

“Shit.”

— — — — — — — — —

taglist:

@urfavarab

@dee-zbignuts

@frogindisguise

@mangodamochiii

[lilac-cat-draws]

youe flower shop au is so so so so cute pls tell me the little details youve figured out for it- like litterally info dump anything you want am just so curious thank you wow- also i have too many drawins to do rn but at some point could i make fanarts for your au? so so cuteeee

Oh I didn't expect to have an ask about this AU again, but thank you!

Even though I haven't been back in the fandom for a while, I'll gladly share what I could from what I can remember. I don't know when I'll get back into this, you can say that this AU is on a very long hiatus for the time being.

The Flower Shop and Tattoo Parlour AU was of course something I've made on a whim just to write my ships in but the more I got into it I got invested into writing little headcanons while at the same time having some parts of this AUs story be somewhat similar to the original.

Also I thought I'd say it here but if anyone else is invested in this AU as well, I wouldn't mind seeing anyone else have a go at this AU concept too, so I'm giving full permission to use as some inspiration. I'd love to see what others could do with this story.

This is long so I added a cut

The things I haven't brought up in this AU are mostly the other PM and ADA member's roles in the AU these where the other ideas I had in mind that I never though of posting, not including Soukoku and shin soukoku (unfortunately I didn't have any illustrations of them so it's just text for now) :

ADA (Tattoo Parlour)

Yosano - I had posted about her once before and I think the information about her is still the same. Works at the Tattoo shop part time and as a doctor for her main job, she's one of the workers who are skilled in applying piercings

Ranpo - He was the trickiest one to come up with because of who he is as a character, but the closest I could think of is that He could also be a tattoo artist and a really skilled one in fact, but he prefers to just sit back and do his own thing so he doesn't work with a lot of client unless he wants to himself

Kunikida - He would be the manager of the shop and would of course still be a former math teacher turned manager to a Tattoo Parlour, but for the reason on why he chose this, I never got into why or I probably forgot

Junichiro - One of the shops other piercers he's taking this job also part time in order to earn money to support him and his sister. Speaking of, Naomi is also very well known at the shop from how often she visits him at work and is often asked to leave by Kunikida when she stays for too long

Kyoka - She's a regular junior high student as well as Atsushi's neighbour. Her parents were the ones to have introduced her to him after a friendly encounter and would ask him to tutor their daughter when they're away for work on occasion. Kyoka personally sees him as an older brother figure to her and would keep her company as she would be often by herself

Kenji - a close school friend of Kyoka and he personally know Atsushi as well after being introduced by his friend. The two would also visit the shop sometimes whenever they walk back from school

Fukuzawa - the owner of the shop but also let's his workers operate freely as long as they're not causing any serious trouble, he has a past that he prefers not to bring up and the interaction between him and Ranpo is the same like in the original

PM (Flower Shop)

Kouyou - On of the best and oldest workers at the shop and is Chuuya's superior, she's the first to rely on as she provides the best bouquet arrangements for any special occasion whether it be events or weddings

Higuchi - A new worker at the shop and looks up to Akutagawa, she's well antiquated with both him and his sister Gin. Over time she had slowly developed feelings for Ryunosuke but is unfortunately unaware that he has eyes for someone else, a certain silver haired tattoo artist

Tachihara - He is also a new comer he worked at the shop before Higuchi, he's very laid back and would regularly hang out with Gin and Hirotsu during breaks

Hirotsu - Another experienced worker at the flower shop, for his age he's still capable of carrying large portions of supplies with no issue and would regularly smoke at the back of the shop whenever he's on break

Kajii - Tasked on looking over the quality of the flowers and maintains their quality but at the same time is very curious of the capabilities of the plants and would often be stopped by the other workers from wasting any more of their stock

Mori - The mysterious owner of the flower shop, it's unknown on why he chose to run one but apparently there are some rumours about the shop's owner having possible crime connections as well as former workers disappearing but they all lack information to confirm it's validity

[napakmahal]

I’ll miss you until I close my eyes.

Ok so this is not an x reader fic but it is very angsty. This is my snack before I deliver my next full x reader. (Also this may or may not be my apology for being gone for so long) Also if I got the Japanese word for mother wrong please tell me.

Tadashi didn’t get an open casket funeral. Well, he could have but both the hospital and the funeral home strongly advised against it considering the state he was in. Aunt Cass also agreed, she didn’t want his friends and family to see him like that. She wanted to put a big portrait of him smiling to hang above the casket so that’s how people would remember him. She also knew that’s what he would have wanted.

At any talk of the funeral, Hiro shut down. He didn’t want to hear it. Like he didn’t want to fully commit to making a slideshow full of memories he had with his brother complete with his birthdate and his death date . And just like how he tried to avoid giving a speech but he did it because “please, out of all the people that he’d want to hear from it would be you. Let him hear you one last time.”

Hiro didn’t believe that Tadashi could hear him. He was dead and the bones and cartilage in his ears probably shattered before he died due to the fire. But the idea sounded nice so he wrote one.

When the time came for Hiro to give his speech in front of family members and family friends he hadn’t seen in years he suddenly didn’t want to. The podium was scarily close to the light gray casket covered with flower arrangements made from Tadashi’s birth-flower. The moment he saw how close it was, he physically backed up. Hiro slipped through the crowd of people with a wrinkled piece of binder paper with writing and tear stains on it. He tried to hand it to his aunt who was talking to a friend of the boys’ mom expressing how upset she was to hear her friend's son had passed so young.

“Hiro, what?” Aunt Cass had leaned down to his height.

Hiro looked down at his shoes and shook his head left and right. “Can you deliver it for me?”

“What? No, Hiro please let-”

Still shaking his head, Hiro responded “No, I don’t wanna go up there. I don’t wanna see him.”

Aunt Cass felt her heart crack inside her chest. The casket wasn’t even open so he technically couldn’t see him. But being near not just his older brother, but his older brother's casket was too much.

Before she could respond, Hiro took off towards the bathroom and sat down on the dirty floor. His black tie swinging back and forth. The crinkled speech still clutched in his palm. Hiro had rewritten the speech over six times. Tadashi did always say it was important to be good at writing essays, not just science and math.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there but it was long enough for someone to start banging on the door shouting “hurry please!”

More and more people started coming. He recognized most of them but couldn’t remember all their faces. At least every other person would stop him and say “you look just like your dad.” Aunt Cass had said that too but Hiro didn’t agree but maybe that’s because he’d never seen a picture of his dad as a teenager. Tadashi looked like his mommy, and acted like her too. Up until his untimely death, Tadashi wore a gold anklet with the word Hahaoya on it. Momma's boy from his birth to his death.

Hiro also saw Tadashi’s friends pull up to the funeral but he ducked through the crowd and pretended not to see them. They saw him though but nobody chased after him. Hiro had still been clinging to his decision that he didn’t want to stand anywhere near Tadashi’s casket until he saw an older woman he remembered. She always sent gifts and provided 90 percent of all the old photos of his parents. Tadashi called her auntie, but Hiro didn’t know if she was actually his aunt or if she was just a family friend. He never asked.

She was hunched in her seat with her hands hugging her body. Hiro walked up to her and greeted her with a hoarse voice.

“Auntie?” He gently placed her hand on her shoulder.

The old woman looked back. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and there were tear stains everywhere on her face and shirt. “Aye! Hiro, aya, how are you?”

Hiro didn’t respond and just shrugged instead. He didn’t feel like crying in front of her or anyone for that matter.

“I know, I know. But it’s good you’re here, you know? He needs you.”

Hiro had heard that multiple times that day and it was taking all the respect he had to not roll his eyes. But that’s when she said:

“Be with you one more time before he sees your mommy and daddy.”

Hiro doesn’t know why that simple sympathy filled sentence had propelled him to want to suddenly share his speech. Maybe it was because it hit that he’d be the only one left out of his immediate family or maybe because he truly didn't want to have to live with the fact he didn’t speak at his own brother's funeral. Either way, he was filled with a new found motivation.

Aunt Cass had delivered a beautiful speech on how honored she felt to have had something to do with the way Tadashi was brought up and how beautifully he blossomed. That though it may have not been in the cards she’ll think of and love him for the rest of her days.

Wasabi gave a speech on behalf of the friend group about how Tadashi will have an everlasting impact on their lives and what an unforgettable friend and wonderful experience he was. Honey was originally supposed to deliver it but she couldn't stop crying for long enough to form sentences. Fred’s eyes were glued to the floor while GoGo had tried not to cry in front of people but ended up having to excuse herself to use the bathroom as a long awaited sob started growing in her throat.

Then it was Hiro’s turn. It was like there was ominous horror movie music emitting from the closed casket. For a while the world moved in slow motion. Hiro could hear his footsteps as if they were being amplified with a speaker as he walked down the aisle and closer to the podium. The world sounded like it was underwater, his ears felt a caked muffling sound. The only thing that stopped it was looking up. Before Hiro had actually stepped onto the podium he looked up and saw his brother. Smiling with his brown eyes glistening in the camera and his cheeks red with laughter. That was how he was supposed to remember him but he couldn’t. He remembered Tadashi’s face of panic and confliction as begged him to stay. But seeing his brother's beautiful face smiling was a nice comfort. That was the first time he started to understand “the ones that love us never really leave us.”

Hiro got up on the podium and froze for a moment. A beat where he needed to remind himself to breathe. “Uhm- Hi. I’m Hiro, I’m Tadashi’s brother. Our parents died when I was three and I didn’t understand. One ng-night they tucked me in, and the oth-other they didn’t . That was all I knew. But T-tadashi—my brother—said uhm, that if I ever wanted to be with them all I would have to do is shut my eyes. And suddenly they would be there for me. I-I don’t know if that’s tru-rue but I tried. When it didn’t work I thought maybe they just didn’t want to be there for me. But it didn’t matter because he was there for me. Tadashi taught me to tie my laces l-like a big boy—ha— and taught me how to ride a big boy bike with no training wheels. On my first day of high school he left his friends so we could sit together. And he bailed me out of trouble constantly. I see him every-everywhere. I see him in his side of our room, I see him in the trinkets we built together, and every time I see someone with as much of love for the San Fransokyo Ninjas as you I laugh but nothing comes out. I can’t laugh without you. I miss you, and I’ll miss you until I close my eyes.”

[chinchillasinunison]

Canon universe Daiyakure concept: The Future Foundation's reconnaissance team discovers something unusual... a stretch of highway that no Monokumas regularly use. One that has Monokuma parts shrewn all over and what could possibly be a one-person camp within, yet no person has been seen there. If there really is a hyper-competent survivalist who can easily dismantle Monokumas in that area, they would be a necessary asset to the organization. Since Yasuhiro has a habit of not dying in scenarios where he probably should have, they send him in to figure out what the hell is going on and maybe recruit this person (if they exist). As Hiro arrives, he realizes that he recognizes this place. Before The Tragedy, there were rumors in online occult circles that it was a haunted location. So he is very scared to go, which only gets worse when his presence tempts a band of Monokumas to attack. He's saved by a man in white, his face smeared in blood but who nevertheless seems unhurt by the onslaught as he rips them apart. He seems... somehow familiar to Yasuhiro as he holds one of them aloft by the throat...

Anyways, after the attack, the guy invites him into the makeshift tarp tent, and they talk about what he's been doing for the past couple of years. Mainly, he keeps travelers moving through the area safe and lets them stay as long as they can before they move on, and expresses a great deal of sadness when talking about that last point. When Hiro asks why he doesn't just follow them, he just says, "I can't." and refuses to elaborate.

So yeah, obvious twist is obvious and the mystery man is Daiya's ghost. Hiro realizes that the main pole of the tent is actually a roadside memorial that the Crazy Diamonds maintained up until The Tragedy. He freaks out and tries to run away, but Daiya chases after and tackles him and asks through furious tears why this changes anything and why it "always has to change everything." As it turns out, this same song-and-dance has played out dozens of times before with the people he's helped. Even when they're not afraid of him, they still always leave. Because, well, he can't. He's bound to the spot he died while they're living, breathing people who need food and water, something a phantom and a desolate stretch of road can't provide. And now Yasuhiro is feeling sympathetic and kinda guilty, especially considering the reason the guy probably stuck around so long in the first place was to see the brother that he and his classmates sentenced to death like a year ago. So he decides to do some psychic bullshit that binds Daiya's spirit to his crystal ball instead so he can carry him around wherever and maybe help him find some closure by finding some old Crazy Diamonds or something. Then on their gayass journey they bond more and more until they're both like "something lgbt just happened to me" 😳

[ditzydisaster13]

Blood Runs Hot

For anyone familiar with my previous posts related to big hero 6, I have a 1shots book in progress on another account (link and or account name provided to those who ask). So if you want, here’s some angst.

Before anyone reads this chapter, I understand that I’m like really late to the game or whatever. And by that, I mean that I understand that Big Hero 6 as well as its characters belong to Disney and Marvel respectively.  And the fact that it came out in 2014. 

However, as of recently. I’ve become obsessed. To the point of watching the film at least once a week, typically every other day if I can, quoting specific moments a little too perfectly, and having the ability to notice things nobody else would make connections to without my outside knowledge. I’ve watched the movie loads. The Baymax series is a great 6 episode spin off. And the BH6 series is something I’m currently watching. Baymax dream shorts are funny, and I’ll soon get to the mini-series.

As for my stories, please be prepared for many levels of angst. Each Chapter, unless mentioned, will have no relations to the chapter or AU before it. Or the characters (canon character do not apply to the information) and will typically follow the canon plot line with minor details absent or changed. Some will have Tadashi alive, a discovery that takes place after the movie. And sometimes the movie just plays out as normal. As always, I fully recommend watching at the least the movie before diving into this book. But I hope you enjoy it regardless. 

And as always, any characters continuously used, unless said otherwise, belong to marvel and Disney. Such as. Hiro Hamada, Tadashi, Baymax, Cass, Mochi, Fred, Wasabi, Honeylemon, Gogo, Judy, Krei, Yama, Callaghan, and Abigail. As well as characters from the series like, Granville, Obake, Karmi, Megan, Noodle Burger boy, Globby, Felony Carl, Momokase, Liv Amara and Diane/Di Amara, Minimax, Richardson Mole, Barron von Steamer, supersonic sue, and others. 

-> Basically, any names you don’t recognize, probably belong to one of the many OCs I have planned for this book. I also like last names, so look out for that. 

A few more things before I start the book. Most are 1shots, and few have multiple parts. As many as 6 possible parts and as few as 1. For the sake of 1shots. Each chapter will be properly titled, in a way that doesn’t say too much, summarized through a series of tabs, given an Angst rating of 1-10 as the book title suggests, and then the ending will contain room for a quote, an authors note, the word count; room for suggestions of later chapters, and a goodbye with a nickname that relates to this book specifically. 

[ Blood Runs Hot: Big Hero 6, Angst, Angst shot, Hiro Hamada, Fredrick (Fred) Fredrickson, Fredmelion, Tadashi has past, Set slightly after movie Au, regrets, fire, adrenaline, loss, catching up with mentality, fears, anxiety, 6 out of 10, reminders, hiro realizes he’s not a fan of fire, regrets Fred’s costume, weirdly wise words]

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hiro Hamada is an Idiot. Well, technically, he’s a genius. But for the moment, he’s feeling really stupid. Like big time. Air had become harder to breath since he realized. The fire…

And he started ignoring all his friends. His phone still pinged with unread messages. Buzzing from his desk as he simply laid in bed. A relapse. Of the depressive rut he had been thrown into when Tadashi died.

Well it was back full force.

Ever since the adrenaline wore off…

Hiro had realized something. Something fairly important. And now that his brain has fully registering what all of this means. That this was pretty much his fault. He couldn’t take it. Couldn’t face his friends. 

God damnit! He really let himself get this far. This far. Blindly. Without sight. Why had he gotten so angry? It was all back to the fire. Fire. All of it. 

Honeylemon had left him multiple messages. Majority of them asking if he was okay or if he wanted to talk. “Hiro. We all love you Hiro. I’m not the only one who’s worried. Please talk to us about this. I’m sure we can solve whatever it is.” That one message spoke to him.

He wasn’t actually reading the messages. Never even opened the app. Just skimming the texts as the notifications appeared on the screen of his phone. Hiro sped his way through Gogo’s messages next. A surprising amount of concern showing through the few messages the girl sent. Phrases such as how worried honey is. How he doesn’t have to deal with it alone. How Callaghan was in jail. To stop beating himself up. And “Whatever it is kid, you’ve got us to talk to.” 

That one caused him to tear up. Like it was clawing at his chest. His breathe came out in stutters. Hiro blinked past the water in his eyes, how it tickled his cheeks and wetted his eyelashes. How it bubbled up in his throat as a barely strangled sob. He went on to Wasabi’s messages. Kind ones. About spaces and time. Hugs and coping. Hiro laughed when Wasabi had said he could throw things through his laser induced plasma. “Maybe cutting things up inti thin little pieces will make you feel better. The apple was pretty cool” the man even went as far as to recommend a therapist, at least an online one he could message, to help him through this.

Hiro blinked and looked around his room. Empty. Silence aside from his crying. Cass was downstairs giving him his space. But he really just wanted a hug. Hiro glanced at his phone and then turned to watch as his hand almost uncontrollably fished around in his pocket. The decision ti do so, not within his memory. Tadashi’s chip. Green and gold. Tiny wires and circuit boards. And the little smile face with the stethoscope. Baymax.

Hiro wanted a hug. From Cass would be nice. Baymax would be awesome. But that marshmallow doctor robot wasn’t with Hiro to hug him and pat his head saying “There there”. But most of all, Hiro just wanted Tadashi. Not just to see him in dreams or night mares or memories. As an angel or a ghost. Even as some sort of weird hallucination. Hiro at this point doesn’t care how real any of it is. But he knows he doesn’t wanna wake up from it, and barely remember a thing. 

Hiro blames himself. For Tadashi’s death. Maybes two weeks earlier, Tadashi had been trying to keep Hiro out of the bot fights. Hiro had gotten locked up in jail for a night and Cass had gotten him and Tadashi, poor Tadashi had been roped into Hiro’s mess, in the late hours of the evening. Cass had told them off and Tadashi had done his job as the older brother and gave him some wise words. Hiro had tried to go to another bot fight. His third that night. Tadashi had tried, to get a point into his little brother’s brain. Hiro wasn’t listening. And he fell for Tadashi’s trick. Hiro met new people, and he learned of his opportunities. But if he never did bot fighting. If he never made his product based off of megabot. If he never made those stupid microbots. A way for the villain to survive the fire. Tadashi went to save the bad guy. Like he always did. But he clearly never knew that Hiro was also among the villains. Clearly. Or Hiro would never would have added fire to the fight. Why did he have to get so angry?

Why hadn’t he thought to put up more fight with Fred? Hiro basically turned the blonde into an alien-dragon. A flame thrower. And Hiro’s blood felt like it was boiling. Self pity bubbling through hiss veins. As he sit in his bed, disgusted with himself,  teeth clenched and hot tears running down his face. Hiro was sick of himself.

But he can’t be mad at Fred. He’d been selfish and angry. Blind. Crazy. So sure that somehow, taking down Callaghan would bring back Tadashi. Hiro had been running on an adrenaline high when he made the hero suits. Hiro had been made that Tadashi was gone. That his brother was trying to be the hero. Tadashi was a good guy. But for some reason in all of his selfish anger, Hiro never saw the red of the flames that caused Tadashi’s demise in the first place. Hiro blames himself. He never should have made Fred a superhero flamethrower. But Hiro was now scared of the flames. 

Hiro can’t blame Fred. Or really himself at this point. Hiro has the rights to be upset. Maybe even upset with himself. But it won’t fix anything. Or change the past. letting his emotions bottle up and over flow worked so well last time. His blood ran hot. And then cold. Like his own body temperature was fighting with him. It sucked. He could cry. And scream. And sob. And nothing would happen anyways. Being upset wasn’t the answer. The fire didn’t really take Tadashi away. Hiro had just given up on the fact that he was still there. He knows there will always be living parts of Tadashi. Nothing would do much good. But Hiro could try to do better. So he went ahead and messaged Fred back. 

“We have to talk” 

It was a short and simple message. Hiro saw that Fred had read it. Fred would surely tell the others. That’s okay. He was ready. This would be his confession. 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Quote: What Fire does not destroy, it hardens -Oscar Wild •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Authors note: Hey guys. As I said earlier, I understand that I was late when I decided “Hey, I wanna write BH6 FanFiction!” And as always it was made into an angst. I hope to post every Thursday, my time, and I hope you will enjoy these future chapters. As of now, I have over 100 summaries of chapters and ideas. This, in the beginning, was what I hoped to be a shorter book, maybe 60 chapters at most. But it’s easy to see this will likely end up with double. So I hope you can bare with me for as long as this book takes. 

Many thanks. Feel free to leave suggestions here: 

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• Word count(including basically everything above): 1711 Hope you liked the chapter Microbots (it’s a nickname) see y’a next chapter! Post date/quotev:  Thursday September • 21st • 2023

[shummashum]

Zeus Brundle Ch6 [1~5]

Previously on Ch5! Liz, who was trapped in the book by someone unknown's magic, played a doki-doki♡ love story with Zeus… hah………. I hope they stop further torturing me?!

Since this is the 6th day, the flow of time is practically not much different from the 13-day system. Maybe I was thinking completely wrong

No matter how you think about him, he is biased to the extreme We need a more normal and exemplary Prefect

Klaus is the former Prefect after all, we need someone on the field now

Right then, found 'someone on the field' !! Can I ask if I can ask for help?

Aah I had no idea that having a normal conversation with a sane person would be such an impressive thing

And he even reached out a helping hand first woaaah he's dazzling I can only see the light 大 fon se feels like someone is detonating a flashbang right in front of my eyes

you're the best dammit the screen is too bright it's too bright to see even if the brightness is set to 0%

So, Liz decided to shadow Al to see what it means to be a Prefect.

I have a question! Isn't this what a professor or teaching assistant should do? ah the Prefect is a postgraduate student

aha!!! the Prefect isn't a student representative, but a postgraduate student they were the professor's (honored) slaves finally all the puzzle pieces fit together

who is it who disrupts this sacred space of education but well, everyone already knows the answer

oi potion freak, you say can't you see the light shining brilliantly right next to you

And why doesn't he get fired? I'm really starting to wonder at this point

nah If she sticks by your side, I bet she'll just master how to calm a mad dog, not a Prefect stuff

and you know, I thought Zeus and Hiro would be barking and snarling every day, but rather, Liz and Zeus are b&s ing at each other, while Hiro is just throwing a few tsukkomi comments in between

And here comes Cae

Al told Cae that he would give him the herbs he had ordered earlier. They started walking somewhere, and Liz hurried after them.

go away why are you acting like this go away!! do you have nothing to do?

That's how all of the Season 6 comrades joined. What's this, kind of burger set?

When Liz showed interest in the herb that Cae wanted, Al began to kindly explain it.

what what are you looking at you should have set an example if you want the right attention your everyday routine is "haha I'll summon the dragon" or "haha I'll sleep in class" and you expect her admiration or something?

oh... you know, there's a nerdy plant freak named Mel... maybe the two of you are a good fit

Anyway, unlike you-know-who, Al was willing to provide quality and informative explanations to Liz.

uaaargh he's doing bullshit again be fucking quiet

Hello, I have a favor to ask. Can't I just hit him once? It's not that I'm angry at him or anything, but he's sending a signal to my fist

oh yeah you good clapclap

man why are you so angry what did she do wrong is it so wrong for her to ask advice from someone other than you

eh erm why why are you looking at me like that no it's not like that stop looking at me like that when I get a look of disdain from you, I feel like I'm the worst piece of trash in the world

[therealnightcity]

💘 🎥 for Hiro 😻

💘💔 for Ares

💘🏩 for Avi

Spicy Character Asks for @dreamskug 🥰💕

Hiro:

💘: What are the ways my muse says ‘I love you’ without actually saying it?

Hiro says I love you through actions or gestures, even without words. A soft hand slipped into someones, or a fleeting brush of fingers, tucking their hair behind their ear. Sometimes he says it in soft kisses, or smiles, intended only for the recipient, that say more than words ever could--eyes that hold trust and affection. He's very physically affectionate, even platonically--sitting close enough that legs are brushing, curled under the same blanket, and shoulders touching. Other times he says it through cooking, something he seldom does for himself but enjoys doing for others, sees it as worth the time and effort, and a way he can show love through actions, without ever saying it.

🎥: Who is my muse’s celebrity crush?

It isn't something Hiro thinks of often, usually preoccupied with people in front of him, or what's tangible, than imagining a celebrity in their place. If he had to pick one, he'd lean towards rockerboys, like Kerry Eurodyne or Johnny Silverhand--the rebellious, arrogance has a level of appeal, even if he hates to admit it. There's something he can't help but admire in the audacity, and how upfront they are, almost unapologetic--even if they can be unlikable at times, at least it's genuine.

Ares:

💘: What are the ways my muse says ‘I love you’ without actually saying it?

Ares says I love you through favors, through listening to people, and remembering the little details about them. She remembers what they like to eat, or places they want to go, or experiences and tries to provide them with those. She says I love you through listening to them, making them feel heard, and supporting their passions. She also says it through quality time--being present, relishing moments spent together, and making them count. Ares loves deeply, like the other two siblings, even if they have different ways of showing it.

💔: What was my muse’s first heartbreak?

Ares first heartbreak was not romantic but platonic, and it was realizing that she wouldn't be happy in a traditional nomad lifestyle. She needs to be able to put down roots, more than would be required for a life on the road, and she knows it's not for her. This being said, she misses the community, and feeling like she's part of a family. Isolation is no life for a nomad and she craves connections, whether platonic or romantic--someone who's company isn't as fleeting as the rest have been.

Avi:

💘: What are the ways my muse says ‘I love you’ without actually saying it?

Avi says I love you through actions, although more indirect than the others. His words are silky, often political or manipulative, but his gestures are rarely such. He does favors, takes risks, without expecting them in returm, even if might put him in harms way, or otherwise inconvenience. There's a protectiveness that makes itself known, and unshakable loyalty if it has been truly earned. Avi shows love through vulnerability, one of the few times he lets his guard down, and himself seen as he is, and not the carefully crafted figure he shows to the rest of the world.

🏩: What was my muse’s first time like?

Avi's first time was with another man when he was in Arasaka. There wasn't love there, but there was physical tension and it was a release of that. It felt forbidden but that made it all the better. They didn't see each other again after that, but it had embedded itself in his mind, temptation he tries to ignore. It's not as if he doesn't have desire, he does as much as anyone else, but he sees it as something that comes secondary to business, at least its what he tells himself, and would like to believe.

Thanks for asking, these were so much fun to think about~ ✨✨

[cinisemperium]

💚 SHIPPING INFO 💚

ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSES SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG.

Tagged by: no one, i stole it

Tagging: anyone who wants to yoink this, be my guest!

1. WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER(S)?

whoo boy i have a lot of muses so here we go. will be listed in alphabetical order by fandom. putting a read more here because it's A LOT

side note - i ship with just about anyone. just because it isn't my OTP does not mean i'm not interested!

Apex Legends Wattson - Darksparks. I adore this ship so much.

Arcane Jinx - I don't really ship her with anyone, but if I had to pick, I'd go with Ekko

Darling in the Franxx Zero Two - Hiro, obviously. Hiro - See above.

DA:I Solas - Female Lavellan

Fairy Tail Natsu Dragneel - It's a tie between Gray and Lucy Yukine Dragneel ( OC ) - Grey

FFXIV Emet - Selch / Hades - @starsasunder 's WoL, Inanna. If not a WoL, then Hyth

Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric - Winry

Genshin Aether - Xiao Cyno - Tignhari Kokomi - Gorou Lumine - Zhongli Xiao - Aether

MHA Shoto Todoroki - OT3, actually, with Katsuki and Izuku Toga Himiko - Ochako Dabi - Hawks Rumi Usagiyama - I actually don't have one for her yet!

Naruto Naruto Uzumaki - Sasuke Sasuke Uchiha - Naruto Sakura Haruno - Naruto

Oshi no Ko Ai Hoshino - I don't have one for her. Aqua Hoshino - Kana Kana Arima - Aqua

Overwatch Widowmaker - hahahaah have fun shipping with the murderous one Lifeweaver - Baptiste

2. HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

That depends on a lot of factors, including the muse ( like for example Emet Selch is thousands of years old ), and the verse ( such as vampires, reincarnation, etc. ). I will NOT, however, do any form of NSFW shipping with minors, and I will not ship minors with adults. I will ship teenage characters, but that will all be kept strictly SFW.

3. HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFW?

Anything that goes beyond gentle kissing and light touching.

4. ARE YOU SELECTIVE WHEN SHIPPING?

I used to be, but not anymore. You wanna ship? Throw it at me. NOt sure I'll go for it? Throw it at me anyway.

5. WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

I'm open to shipping anyone with just about anyone, provided we can make it make sense.

6. DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

Sort of? I consider throwing a shippy meme at me asking. If I'm down for it ( and chances are I will be ), I'll reply to it and off we go.

7. ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

Yes and no, to both. I adore shipping, don't get me wrong. I think ships area great way to explore characters and their growth and depth. However, I do not think a plot needs a ship to be a good plot. I'm more of a if it happens then it happens kind of shipper.

8. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

Naruto and Sasuke, Natsu and Gray, Zero Two and Hiro. I will write these ships all day long, any day of the week.

9. FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

Hop into my inbox! Whether that be my DMs with a plot hook or even just 'hey can we ship', or my inbox with a shippy meme. Throw it at me and we'll see where it goes!

[delirious-donna]

Hiromi stood by the window; his jacket and tie were discarded by the couch, and his white shirt wrinkled and creased from the stresses of the day. It made you pause in the doorway, your steps lightening so as not to alert him to your presence.

There was no noise except for the continuous pitter-patter of the rain. It drummed against the slate roof overhead, tinkled against the windows and formed ever-growing puddles in the divets of the street below. Your umbrella had saved you from the worst of it. Head down and focused on your footsteps, you hadn’t taken any enjoyment in navigating the pools of water that were not taken care of by the drains along the road, yet right now… it felt different.

Hiromi was framed by the open window in your living room, leaning against the sill with the sleeves of his shirt rolled back to his elbows and a cigarette dangerously close to being extinguished by the droplets falling steadily to the ground. The tobacco mingled with the petrichor, muted by the earthy aroma to a more pleasant level that had you inhaling deeply as you stepped closer. Your lungs filled with the magic of nature despite being deep in suburban Tokyo, but what drew you in was him.

A white haze surrounded him, one that called out to you and spun playful tendrils around your wrists to pull you close. Perhaps it was a manifestation of what you had fallen for all those years earlier, or maybe it was simply in your head. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way your heart sped up and your body instinctively reached out for the solace that only he could provide. Hiromi was your haven, your nirvana. This may be your home but that home was truly wherever he was and you didn’t think he knew that—somehow that only made it all the more true.

Your arms encircled his waist, the cooler air brushing against your skin like a lover’s caress, and your head rested on his shoulder. Tension leaked out, his muscles relaxing and shifting until his breathing evened, and he placed a sturdy hand atop your own. For a while you both stood there; unspeaking yet baring your souls, unmoving but travelling together. The embers from his cigarette flared one last time before flickering out, spent.

“How long have you been standing here?” You asked, at last, breaking the spell of silence and hurtling you both back into the here and now.

“Hm… long enough.” His tone was light, jovial even, and you squeezed around his waist until he gave a small wriggle of protest.

“Long enough to watch your umbrella bob past. I wasn’t sure why you didn’t say something when you got home, but this is nice,” he conceded.

“I was admiring you, Hiro. Hardly a crime for a woman to admire her husband, is it?”

Hiromi snorted and turned slowly to envelop you against his chest. You could hear the steady beat of his heart, smell the fading scent of his cologne and you rubbed your nose into the stiff fabric covering his chest.

“Not one that I think would stand up in court,” he teased, his nose buried deep in your hair.

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“True, but I’ll admit that I’d much rather have you here, in my arms, where you belong… than in a courtroom. They can be awfully stuffy.”

“Sounds like you.”

“Oh ho! I’m stuffy now, am I? Well then, I guess I’ll see you in court you—you… husband ogler.”

At that, laughter bubbled up and out. Frothing and eager to fill the room with your humour. You could feel Hiromi’s body judder with the want to join in, only subdued by the bite of his lip. His warm brown eyes fixed upon you as you lifted a hand to cup his jaw and teased your fingertips over the scrape of stubble adorning his cheeks and chin.

“I’m home,” you sighed wistfully.

Hiromi smiled, leaning back to feel stray raindrops land amongst the peppering of greys in his thick black head of hair. The petrichor intensified as if heralded by your declaration, the setting sun breaking through the grey clouds to dapple your bodies in an amber glow. All was right in the world and he felt lucky to be able to say that with conviction.

“Welcome home, my love.”

an: I saw this beautiful piece of art by @kanashiki79 and they were kind enough to allow me to draw inspiration from it for the above. I guess I was in a bit of a sappy mood for Hiro today, but who could blame me?

[demidin]

silly lil essay on a silly lil guy :D

Reki Kyan is the main protagonist of the sports skating anime SK8 The Infinity, made in 2021 by Studio Bones. His voice actors include Matt Shipman, who voices Hiro in Darling in the Franxx and Tasuku Hatanaka, who was listed in Best Voice Actors for Newtype Anime Awards in 2016. In the SK8: The Stage stage play, he was played by Tsubasa Kizu, also known for playing Ryota Mitarai in Danganronpa 3. 

Reki's appearance in the show consists of bright red hair, his blue and white headband, and a hoodie, preferably his yellow one. He mainly fits the street/skater style mainly seen in the show. Most viewers find this style to be aesthetically pleasing. Official art also provides more outfits for him.

When he is introduced in the show, he starts on a speech about how when he was little, he would watch a show with a superhero who asked, "What is my happiness?" It would always frighten him because he never knew what his happiness was. Yet after having discovered skateboarding, he realized that he found his joy in skateboarding. However, in his first appearance in the show, we are soon shown that he has challenged one of the most brutal skaters to a match; Shadow, also known as Hiromi Higa.

Soon, he meets Langa Hasegawa, the main deuteragonist and his best friend. This is where we tie into our first point; Reki is a good teacher. He taught Langa the basics of skating, and even helped him do his first ollie on a skateboard. Even when Langa wanted to completely scrap having to do the ollie, he still persevered due to Reki’s encouragement. In fact, Langa would have never learned skateboarding had he not met Reki.

Yet, Langa’s prowess in snowboarding also contributed to most of his skateboarding.  Which ties into this next instance I will bring up; Reki's insecurities. After the events of Episode 6, it starts out with any other day at school for Langa and Reki, but later that night at S, Reki notices something; no one recognizes him. So he starts to doubt himself, wondering if he's really worthy to be their friend. He starts avoiding them, not going to S matches, and even trying to do Langa’s tricks, failing to do them. Then, when Langa and Kojiro(Joe) skate in their tournament match, he comes to a conclusion. He might be terrible at skating, but he doesn’t want to be cheering from the sidelines. He wants to skate alongside them, to be with them. Yet, his self-doubt worsens, and even says that getting beat up in Episode 10 was “deserved." Then, he realizes that his actions need to change if he ever wants to be with Langa and the others again. Eventually, he reconciles with Langa, becoming his friend once again.

His own skating skills are somewhat on par, yet not at the level of the S skaters. He started at a later age than most talented skaters. Reki can hold his own on beefs, however, and uses strategy to maneuver around tricks, such as using rain wheels and dodging Adam’s Full Swing Kiss despite having been in an injured state. He has shown to be very observant and good at mechanical skills. For example, he manages to figure out how to make Langa’s board feel more natural to Langa as Langa transitioned to having to not keep his feet on the board and why Langa was unable to perfect certain tricks right away.

In conclusion, Reki Kyan is a very 3D character compared to most anime protagonists. He’s rather loyal and cares about his friends, yet also has a vulnerable side, despite being seen as the jokester of his friend group. He puts a lot of trust into Langa, and Langa also trusts Reki a lot. He does have a passion for skating, and utilizes what he can do to skate to a certain level that he is proud of. He does have to realize that he is important to his friends no matter how he feels about himself.

[mickules]

What are your opinions on rare Danganronpa ships? If you have any favorites, what would they be?

I'm afraid I don't really have any in the way of rare ones, since I tend to hover around canon-compliant. Even then, in general I don't err toward romance very often, rather I tend to land hard on platonic, ride or die, best friends interactions. There usually has to be something specific that suggests otherwise to me.

In the rare-pair platonic vein, I think Hifumi/Tsumugi are dream team collaborators. They would dominate any convention. I like to think they have a surface level rivalry where they try to top each other, but are extremely appreciative of the other's efforts.

Also, I don't know if this is that rare- I've definitely seen it floating around, I think first from @hatteymcstache Romantically or platonically, I think Celeste would love Gonta. Endlessly gullible and accommodating himbo who wants to be a gentleman? That's too perfect, she'd never let him slip through her fingers - although the bugs and lack of shoes might be a hurdle.

I mean is this or is this not her peak aesthetic?

I can see why antagonist-protagonist pairings can be so popular since there's so much interpersonal conflict to delve into and explore- especially since many 'rival' pairings are essentially two allies who are separated by circumstance. In essence that's what Taka and Mondo are, just fast tracked from enemies - friends - soulmates by way of sauna based conflict resolution.

I'm sorry to say that I've been primed by a childhood adoration of Seto Kaiba to be far too generous to Byakuya (excepting that nonsense with Chihiro) He'd never describe any of his relationships in terms other than 'temporarily interesting plebeians with some limited potential use' with any kindness he provides always having an ulterior motive; but his interactions with Makoto give off 'surly cat who happens to be in the same room as you 90% of the time' energy to me.

Nagito is a bit of a nebulous one for me to imagine since he seems a too preoccupied with his adoration of the talent the ultimates posses than necessarily caring about them as people which makes it difficult for me to see him engaging with any of them in a genuine way, either platonically or romantically. (there does seem to otherwise be some 'protag-oriented' energy in SDR2 with how the cast interact with Hajime lol)

I . . .uh. . . I'll be frank. I know he's a fan favourite but I just do not jive well with Kokichi. No shade meant, but because of that no matter how I try, I can't really imagine any interaction between him and Shuichi that doesn't boil down to:

Ah, for the record- No I don't, but I think this is continued confusion from the "v3 cast as the kids of the dr1 cast" post - in hindsight it's kinda opaque- so let me clear that up! The top part was supposed to show adult Mondo and adult Taka with adopted son Kaito meeting newly adopted sister Maki. In my mind it was unmistakable that they would be adopted so I plain forgot to specify! I can see how it looks like two separate parents introducing their kids.

The bottom part was supposed to be completely separate alternate take, showing adult Hiro with biological son Kaito from an unspecified partner. Unspecified because I don't personally picture anyone specific with Hiro romantically. (That's just me of course, I know there's a lotta love for Hiro in the fanbase!)

I hope that ^ clears it up! (Coincidentally my parents have the same age gap, tho' of course they didn't meet in high school with my dad havin' been held back like 6 times XD)

(edit: more pairing [asks])

(next set of asks [about Taka’s eating habits]) (previous set [Head-canons about Taka’s mum/Takaaki])

[theliterarywolf]

>"Okay, so is darling in the franx an actual "have sex, make kids" propaganda?" As someone who watched Franxx while it was airing? Not really? The actual show is a post-apocalyptic dystopia where children are born and trained to pilot mechs in two-person Male/Female teams to fight off Kaiju that spawn from the Earth as a result of mankind harvesting "Magma Energy" to keep the Adults of the domed cities in lives of blissful, ignorant and immortal comfort (while living bland and stagnant lives, getting their physical needs provided but their emotional needs basically nonexistent—void of any names, emotions, passions, companionship, socializing, or even simple pleasures like eating or dreaming) while the children all suffer and die in the name of Humanity's Big Brother-esque Cult Leader figure "Papa." The Children have next to no actual education on anything because their entire purpose is to fight and die piloting the eponymous Franxx Mecha, so they're incredibly sheltered and don't actually know how to love, be free, or really act as mature humans, but that starts to change as the core cast starts realizing how Papa and his entourage aren't nearly as benevolent as they seem, thanks to Hiro (the MC)'s stunningly well-written romantic relationship with 02 (pink-haired girl with horns who you've probably seen a bunch in fanart). The "I wanna have a baby" thing is because one of the other ensemble cast girls finds a book on child raising or something in the ruins of a destroyed pre-apocalypse town they explore on the beach episode and asks her love interest to help her make one because that's her idea of what you do as a couple, which the anime journalists ignored the context of "These kids don't actually understand romance or families or anything because they're tykebombs who have no idea how horrific their life is" to scream and throw tantrums over "Japanese heteronormativity and hating queer people blah blah fucking blah I'm a dumbass" and other stupid shit like that while taking the Shinzo Abe "Have sex" meme too seriously. They also missed the part where, due to these kids being genetically altered freaks, the girl loses her memory during the pregnancy so it's not like it's wholly glamorized like propaganda would be. There was also one bit where there was another Mecha pilot who, due to his uprbringing as a clone soldier in this fucked up society, was basically some form of... I don't even know what to call it, some form of militantly sex-repulsed Asexual(?) who thought relationships were dumb and gross and he got slapped for it. Somehow people twisted that into being some nonsense about homophobia despite the fact that the character who slapped him was A LESBIAN. The show's reception is mixed due to developments that happen near the tail end of the series, but I still think it's worth a recommendation and it gets more shit on than it actually deserves (example: people saying certain plot twists "came out of nowhere" despite some very obvious foreshadowing that you really can't have missed unless you're either a moron or you didn't pay attention).

I'll grand you that description is very likely based on some form of Japanese social commentary allegorically speaking, but reducing it to "I WILL KEEP IT REAL WITH YOU SHINZO ABE" really pisses me off for a lot of reasons because that was only one part of the major theme of "Utilitarianism strips us of all that makes us human and the joys of life that we experience like love" and reducing it to just that is just incredibly dishonest. It's also part of the usual Social Justice Warrior rhetoric that show just how much people who claim to care about "America Centric Views/Cultural Imperialism" Have no goddamn self-awareness whatsoever because Japan's relationship with LGBT issues is different than ours, and trying to shame them on it, especially for contexts as stupid as this, is going to fall on deaf ears.

Welp, that was a lot. However, it does look at things from the perspective of someone who watched the show all the way through, so it's still good to have.