#momoderas

[unhalloa2]

❝   are you stupid?   get out of my way.   now.   ❞      red tendrils spiral around the tail of his coat,   hands stuffed tight into his pockets as eyebrows furrow to a sharp point atop his nose.   [ his gaze is as sharp as the teeth of a stray dog:   biting,   tearing,   ripping. ]      AKUTAGAWA’S STARE ONLY GROWS MORE SUFFOCATING AS THE TIME GOES BY.      ❝   well?   didn’t you hear me?   move!   ❞

@momoderas​​​,   random muse starter call.  

[kyukicho]

@momoderas​ asked: "You've a little -" He taps his cheek, indicating the place on Noe's own that is marked with - what seems to be a bit of cream (likely from sweets, he supposed), just sort of there. It happens to everyone, though, from time to time. "You must've been in quite a hurry."

“hmm? oh!” Noe took his thumb and wiped the cream off. Licking it from his thumb soon after. “Thank you, monsieur! I had some tarte before and you’re right, I ate it pretty quickly. You’re very kind.”

[kyukicho]

@momoderas​ asked: "Here, hairpins - your bangs must get in the way a lot, right? I doubt my friend will mind that I'm loaning her gifts out." He thinks of the person in question - someone still back home; glasses and dark eyes, hair the plum-deep shade of nighttime. Ah, but, Mikado really does doubt she would mind if he's pawning a couple off on Jean-Jacques - the man's eyes are near covered, most times, from what he's seen (his own hair barely has a use for the pins, so better they go to someone suited to them). "I've no doubt you can see through your hair, but it's likely annoying that it pokes your eyes in the wind and the like."

Hair pins? He’s never thought of such a thing. Surely his hair was a bother sometimes. Getting in his eyes or tickling his nose. But he always shrugged it off as inevitable. Not bothering to cut his bangs or style them back. 

“Euh. Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.” Taking the hairpins Jean-Jacques fidgets with them a little, trying to figure out how to work them. “D-Do you mind giving me a hand? I’ve never warn such a thing before?”

[nulltune]

not only has Tumblr released you from the void it forced me to unfollow you BUT WERE BORH BACK NOW. Tumblr you fool you cannot stop my cross-blog Lynn appreciation efforts

^ LITERALLY US AAAAAAAA MATT U HAVE NO IDEA HOW 😳😳🥺 I GO WHENEVER I GET A FOLLOW FROM A NEW BLOG OF URS..... always gonna support that matt brand btw!!! insane of tunglr if it thinks it can get between out like- 2 year long bond okok!!!! AND PLS YOURE MAKING ME SO 🥺🥺🥺 TYSM!!!! FOR UR CROSS-BLOG ME APPRECIATION EFFORTS 😭😭❤️ no matter what fandom or muse i will love and appreciate u okok I LOVE UUUUU

[victoryclaimed]

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                                "hmm." she looks at the food put before her, blinking owlishly before she looks up. with a soft hum, she slides her food over to him. he needs it to regain his strength. she'll be alright ! 

[unhalloa2]

"Look, look! I made sure to fix it up so that it would look like a cat!" He's holding out a tray with a bowl of soup: decorated gently, tomatoes and crackers, strips of nori. Yes, it's definitely a cat - and a happy one at that, smiling up at Atsushi from its grip in Mikado's hands. "I've done this before with borscht, though that one was made to look like a rabbit. Everything tastes better when it's cute, after all."

𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧,   he thinks.   the snow sticks to his eyelashes,   the cold makes his knees creak,   and the tip of his ears are always sore by the time he gets back to the office.   ATSUSHI HATES WINTER THE SAME WAY HE HATES THE ORPHANAGE.   the bitter chill leaves him stuck,   chained to the wall inside himself,   teeth clattering and body aching for warmth,   something to eat,   someone to talk to.   [ he doesn’t hate every part of winter.   yosano says it’s important to try and pick out the good between the bad,   and atsushi is trying,   he really is. ]   he thinks he likes to watch the children having snowball fights.   he thinks he wants to try making a snow angel,   wants to see if his cat ears can be seen in the imprint of his back.   he thinks he wants to drink hot chocolate that burns his tongue because he was too impatient to let it cool before gulping it down.

the walk back to the agency goes faster when you get lost in your own head.   his work boots scrape against the floor mat once,   twice,   three times for good measure   ---   because he knows kunikida will throw a fit if he tracks snow in ---   before pushing his shoulder into the heavy wooden door.   HE ALMOST FORGOT THEY HAD COMPANY THIS WEEK.   a joint office team up on a case that become entangled with a case at a separate agency.   [ atsushi will deny it,   but when mikado trots out of the kitchen with his chattery exclamation,   the tiger nearly jumps out of his own skin. ]

❝   when it’s   ...   cute?   ❞      dual toned eyes visibly widen when atsushi peeks over the edge of the bowl:   it’s a cat!   at least,   it is if you look hard enough.   though atsushi’s nose wrinkles at the sudden onslaught of new smells after walking with his nose buried in a scarf,   his stomach churns and growls at the prospect of a warm meal.      ❝   woah!   will you show me how to do that?   i want to do that,   too.   ❞

unprompted asks,   always accepting.

[victoryclaimed]

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                                "we're going to need another plan to deal with this curse. i think it's best i go on ahead and serve as a distraction."

[flovverworks]

"It throws me for a loop, you know, remembering that you're not too much ahead of me in age." He doesn't elaborate as to why - that can be a private secret between him and someone who can't answer now, as he calmly regards them with hazel eyes not quite meeting theirs. "Then again, people mistake me for younger than I am, too."

   Huh…?

   Posture that, subconsciously, is straightened at the mention, despite being at a loss behind the meaning of his words. Age becomes a clumsy number when you enter your twenties, expectations mixed with experiences mixed with life, all of them different from the next. To act one's age, to guess one's age; Akira found that had become more difficult. As such, it didn't matter if people thought they were younger or older than they were, they had already decided that.

   And yet they can't help but wonder.

   Were they acting too distant? Or too casual? Akira wasn't the most reliable person around for…more or less anything, but if they could support the people who were so incredibly amazing, then they wanted to do that with all of their heart. As their elder, as their friend, as someone who wanted them to be happy. What a mess of feelings — wanting to be seen as older and reliable, and yet not at all, fearing the years passing them by.

   And that's why they end up smiling gently.

           " Does it feel strange ? But, if you're fine with it, I'd love to hear about those stories as well. "