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beyond-mogai-pride-flags · 6 years ago

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hi do you think you could tell me some animal related genders??? thank you uwu

There are quite a few, so I may not be able to list them all, but I’ll certainly try my best to list as many as I can.

Zebrogender : a xenogender related to zebras and/or zebra hybrids

Kiwigender: a gender identity that is related to kiwi birds

Aliferate: a gender that relates to birds, feeling a call like the sky is your home, and having/wanting wings.

Genderartio: a xenogender related to whales. meant for whalekin but can be used for anyone

Genderhippocamp: a xenogender related to sea horses.

Cnidariagender: a xenogender related to jellyfish/cnidarians.

Genderserpentes: a xenogender related to serpents/snakes

Lacertiligender: a xenogender related to lizards/geckos/etc

Genderpenguin: a xenogender related to penguins, for penguinkin but can be used by anyone.

Phoenicogender/Genderflamingo: a xenogender related to flamingos, meant for flamingokin but can be used by anyone.

Equusagender: a xenogender related to zebras, horses, donkeys, mules, or just all of the equines in general.

Castoringender: a xenogender related to beavers.

Dragongender: A gender which is reflected by dragons.

Insectumgender: A kin gender for people who feel that their gender is insect-like. And those who feel like our gender is like an insects also feel like their gender is close to agender or ‘other’ in human terms.

Buckgender: A gender encompassing masculine animal energy. Can be used by kin and non-kin.

Cervusgender: A gender encompassing neutral animal energy. Can be used by kin and non-kin.

Doegender: A gender encompassing feminine animal energy. Can be used by kin and non-kin.

Felisgender/Catusgender/Feligender/Nekogender: a small, catlike gender that is up to more interpretation by those who identity with it.

Tortiegender- a subgender of felisgender relating to tortoiseshell cats. A fiesty and stong-willed gender.

Calicogender- a subgender of felisgender relating to calico cats. A hyper and cheerful gender. Can be associated with luck and money.

Siamesegender- a subgender of felisgender relating to siamese cats. A elegant yet rambunctious gender. Can be associated with royalty.

Ragdollgender/Raggender- a subgender of felisgender relating to ragdoll cats. A fluffy and calm gender. Can be associated with a limp connection to gender, like ragdoll

Bengalgender- a subgender of felisgender relating to bengal cats. A regal and wild gender.

Vangender- a subgender of felisgender relating to turkish van cats. A mischievous and active gender. Can be associated with water.

Canisgender: a doglike gender, or a gender influenced by or compared to canines in some way.

Faunagender: A gender influenced by animals in some way.

Vulpisgender: a foxlike gender.

Strigigender - An owllike gender/A gender influenced by owls. Comes from the Order Strigigformes.

Tytogender - A barn or bay owllike gender/A gender influenced by true barn owls and/or bay owls. Comes from the Family Tytonidae.

Asiogender - An eared owllike gender/A gender influenced by eared owls. Comes from the Genus Asio.

Bubogender - An eagle or horned owllike gender/A gender influenced by eagle owls and/or horned owls. Comes from the Genus Bubo.

Glaucisgender - A pypmy owllike gender/A gender influenced by pygmy owls. Comes from the Genus Glaucidium.

Megasigender - A screech owllike gender/A gender influenced by screech owls. Comes from the Genus Megascops.

Mircrathisgender - An elf owllike gender/A gender influenced by elf owls. Comes from the Genus Micrathene.

Ninoxgender - A hawk owllike gender/A gender influenced by hawk owls. Comes from the Genus Ninox.

Strixgender - A wood owllike gender/A gender influenced by wood owls. Comes from the Genus Strix.

Athenegender - A burrowing owllike gender/A gender influenced by burrowing owls. Comes from the Genus Athene.

Naturaegender: A gender that struggles to connect with other people and thus prefers animal companionship.

Wendecure Animal: when you’re genderless because you’re an animal/similar being. Not exclusive to kin, as long as you relate to the term. Could also be genderless with connections to being an animal.

Mendecure Animal: when you’re a masculine gender because you’re an animal/similar being. Not exclusive to kin, as long as you relate to the term. Could also be masculine gender with connections to being an animal.

Servalgender: a gender like that of a serval

Caracalgender: a gender like that of a caracal

Auratagender: a gender like that of an african golden cat

Pardalisgender: a gender like that of an ocelet

Wiediigender: a gender like that of a margay

Jacobitagender: a gender like that of an andrean mountain cat

Colocologender: a gender like that of a pampas cat

Geoffroyigender: a gender like that of geoffroys cat

Guignagender: a gender like that of a kodkod

Tigrinusgender: a gender like that of an oncilla or a tigrina

Nebulosagender: a gender like that of a clouded leopard

Diardigender: a gender like that of a sundra clouded leopard

Unciagender: a gender like that of a snow leopard

Tigrisgender: a gender like that of a tiger

Oncagender: a gender like that of a jaguar

Pardusgender: a gender like that of a leopard

Paleogender: a gender like that of a lion

Marmoratagender: a gender like that of a marbled cat

Badiagender: a gender like that of a bay cat

Temminckiigender: a gender like that of an asian golden cat

Rufusgender: a gender like that of a bobcat

Canadensisgender: a gender like that of a canadian lynx

Lynxgender: a gender like that of a eurasian lynx

Pardinusgender: a gender like that of an iberian lynx

Jubatusgender: a gender like that of a cheetah

Concolorgender: a gender like that of a cougar

Vagouaroundigender: a gender like that of a jaguarundi

Manulgender: a gender like that of pallas’s cat

Rubiginosusgender: a gender like that of a rusty-spotted cat

Bengalensisgender: a gender like that of a leopard cat

Viverrinusgender: a gender like that of a fishing cat

Planicepsgender: a gender like that of a flat-headed cat

Chausgender: a gender like that of a jungle cat

Nigripesgender: a gender like that of a black-footed cat

Margaritagender: a gender like that of a sand cat

Bietigender: a gender like that of a chinese mountain cat

Lybicagender: a gender like that of an african wildcat

Silvestrisgender: a gender like that of a european wildcat

(These next ones are alignments, not genders, but they are related so I’ll list them too)

Faunarian: A xenic alignment to animal(s). Alternative term for fauna-/zoo- aligned.

Caninarian: Faunarian aligned with canines or canidae.

Felisarian: Faunarian aligned with felines or felidae.

Equusarian: Faunarian aligned with horses/equines.

Reptilarian: Faunarian aligned with reptiles.

Amphibarian: Faunarian aligned with amphibians.

Aviarian: Faunarian aligned with birds.

Hope that helps! Feel free to comment if I missed any!

#too many to list #animal genders #gender list #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #mogai #Anonymous #long post

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clans-of-the-sea · 6 years ago

Text

Forget-Me-Not

(Here’s my writing entry! I got Elf Owl’s help for writing the parts about Night and I thought this was the perfect moment to show!)

The beautiful, quiet woods sat peacefully in the springtime, with flowers blooming everywhere under the shining sun, turning the fields to a rainbow of beautiful bobbing colors and bright splashes. Heavenly scents trailed through the air, and so did butterflies and bees. Birds and squirrels filled the trees with song and life, and the day was perfectly peaceful.

Except for a small stubby figure far out by the farmlands, racing along as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. The reason she was flying along became quickly clear as a huge, snarling, snapping dog bounded into view as well.

“HEEEEELP! HELP! OH HEEEEEELP!” The dilute calico munchkin dashed through the grass, screaming like a seagull while she crashed along. She blasted past dandelions and sent their fluff flying through the air and trampled right over the clover flowers she loved so much.

The dog got closer and closer, starting to really gain on her. Eager excitement flashed in its dark eyes and it gave a wicked grin of bared fangs as it lunged forward to try to snap at her tail!

“AHHHH!” shrieked Snail. She jumped high in the air and landed right on the dog’s head! Panicked she clung on with claws and howled as the dog ran in circles, trying to shake her off. She bit its ear hard, trying to hold on better since she was scared of falling and being trampled.

But this just made the dog madder than ever! It snarled and roared and shook her right off!

Snail flew over a fence and landed in a pond! The giant splash made the ducks there quack and flap off. Whimpering, Snail struggled to the shallows only to see the dog bounding towards her! She tried to take off, but found out one of her paws was stuck on a root! Sobbing in fear, she clawed and scrabbled, still screaming for help.

Then a terrible snarl ripped out of the reeds ahead! A huge black shape leaped out and charged at the dog, snarling and hissing!

The dog yelped as claws sliced its nose and the angry black cat jumped on its face and attacked it!

Hiccupping and sniffling, Snail watched with wide eyes as the big black cat fiercely chased the dog off, sending it running away when it decided this new prey was too mean and the game was no fun anymore!

Panting, the black cat turned back and stalked over to Snail.

“Night!” she squeaked in relief recognizing her and realizing she’d been holding her breath in fright. She felt a little dizzy and flopped down. “You saved me!”

Night didn’t smile though. She just poked Snail. “How’s your paw?” she demanded.

“Stuck!” Snail took a shaky breath. “Is that dog going to come back?”

“No,” said Night. She carefully tugged Snail’s paw and helped her work it free.

Snail stood on wobbly paws and then squeaked. The one that had gotten stuck really hurt to stand on! She held it up, big eyes watery again. “It hurts!”

Night’s stiff expression didn’t change. The intimidating cat sniffed her paw and poked it. “Sprained.”

Snail stared at her in horror, puffed up and not sure exactly what that terrible pronouncement meant. “Will I ever walk again?”

“Of course.” Was Night rolling her eyes at her?

She frowned. “But I can’t walk right now.”

“You have three other paws.” Night beckoned to her and started to prowl off. She looked very grim, and Snail’s heart sank a little bit. Was Night mad at her? She drooped. She didn’t want the cool cat to be mad at her!

“Where are you going?” Snail hobbled after the black cat.

“Back. Camp. You should too.”

“But I can’t!” She plopped on her bottom and put on the saddest, most pleading face she could. “Night, I can’t. I’m on a mission!”

The black cat didn’t even turn around, she just looked around. “What mission?”

“I’ve got to find Fairyrings!” she explained.

“Who?” deadpanned Night.

“My sister! My other sister…” Snail’s whiskers drooped. “Why my housefolk lost me, I had two sisters, Ferret and Fairyrings. We all lived with the Storm Clouds because they gave us a place to stay, but then Fairyrings got scared when you new cats came—not to be rude, she just was worried, but I don’t mind you at all!” Snail hurriedly hobbled over to rub against Night, who just stared at her like she had squirrels in her brain. “But then Ferret died…” She looked up at Night, tears welling again. It broke her heart every time she thought of her sister dying, and then not knowing where her other sister was!

Night stared at her.

“I tried to find her,” wailed Snail, “but I can’t find anything and she’s gone forever! I came out here thinking maybe she went really, really far or tried to go home to our housefolk, but there’s nothing!”

“Then she’s gone,” Night said bluntly.

Snail’s whiskers drooped. She stared at the ground, starting to sniffle again. “I looked everywhere,” she whispered. “Everywhere!”

Night awkwardly nuzzled Snail. The big black cat then curled up around her and sat there frowning.

Snail sobbed into her fur, thinking of all the horrible things that could have happened. What if she was killed by dogs or had fallen in a river or got sick or got too hungry or got hurt or bitten by a snake or snatched by a hawk or attacked by a mean cat?!

Eventually though Snail ran out of tears. She sadly snuggled against Night, having hiccups from all her crying. She stared miserably at the black cat with her cheek pressed against her soft fur. “Night?” she quavered.

Night grunted.

“Will you help me do something?” she pleaded. “Something really, really important?”

“What?’ asked Night flatly.

“I want to make a mem-more-ree-um, for Fairyrings,” she said, sitting up with a sniffle.

Night cleared her throat and stared at her with pinned ears. She looked awkward and uncomfortable and pained like she’d been dragged backwards through a thornbush.

Snail guiltily nudged her wondering if now she was thinking about losing Shade.

“What’s that?’ demanded Night.

She stared up at Night. “You don’t know about mem-more-ree-ums?”

“No,” said Night.

Eyes tearful she said, “It’s a big nice thing you make to remember someone by and you make a big pretty thing and it means you won’t forget what you miss.”

“Oh,” said Night. She looked puzzled.

Snail pressed against her for comfort. “What do you do to remember cats?” she asked.

“We tell stories,” said Night. “About what they did. And we wrestle and yowl.” She looked away. “Death happens all the time. Once they’re dead they’re dead.”

Snail didn’t think that sounded very happy. It sounded very sad. She nuzzled Night. “Do you miss Cicero?” she asked. “He was your daddy wasn’t he?”

“Something like that,” said Night.

“We could make a mem-mor-ee-um for him too,” she said.

Night grunted.

“Can you help me?” she whispered hopeful. “We have to gather nice things.”

“Fine,” muttered Night.

The big black cat carried the small munchkin on her back. They wandered all over the hills, picking flowers and collecting feathers and berries and pretty rocks. Snail also found some nice soft sheep wool and some interesting shells.

“Is there anything you want to get Cicero?” she asked licking Night’s ear. She was balancing on top of her and carrying all the supplies.

Night grunted and didn’t say anything but when Snail finished collecting some more feathers she came back and found Night have some prey bones piled up.

“I made a thing,” she said flatly and pointed to it.

“That’s nice,” said Snail her voice still a bit thick. “But we have to put it somewhere special. I know the perfect place.”

Night carried her and she gave directions. She had a pretty good memory for things and they soon arrived in a pretty clearing with bright sun and soft green clover and grass everywhere. A big ring of mushrooms, which Snail called fairies, was there.

“What’s special about this?’ asked Night.

“It’s a ring of fairies,” said Snail. She nuzzled a fairy. It was pale brown and reminded her of the cream on her sister’s pelt. She gulped back a new wave of tears. “We just put everything in here,” she said, and started to arrange all the pretty things inside the ring.

She put shells, daises, roses, hyacinths, honeysuckles, butterfly wings, pinecones, stones, petals, acorns, fur, and feathers in. She also added moss and then lots of forget-me-nots everywhere, until the ring was filled with color and beauty, the perfect memorial for lost kin.

Night dumped her bones in the ring and then eventually added some tufts of her fur. “Now what?” she said. Snail was sure she looked kind of misty-eyed, and Night even added some white flowers on top of her pile, and a talon she’d found.

“We have to say words,” said Snail.

“What words?”

Snail didn’t know. She stared at the heap of gifts for a long while, sniffling and quivering while she tried to hold herself to together. Eventually she said, “I’ll always remember you, Fairyrings. And you too, Ferret. You’re the best sisters ever and I love you very, very much. I miss you lots, and I hope you come home soon Fairyrings.” If she heard Night’s snort behind her she didn’t notice. “I hope you find this and know I’m still looking for you.”

When Night came to stand beside her the munchkin pressed against her and smiled sadly, hiccupping. “You’ve got to tell some stories about Cicero when we get back,” she mumbled.

“Who says we have to go back?” muttered Night.

“What do you mean?” she pulled away and stared up at her.

“We can take some time…” Night’s claws sank into the ground and she was staring really hard.

Snail quietly pressed against her, purring softly and wanting to comfort her, sure that Night was trying not to cry. “Would you like me to say words for Cicero?” she whispered, eyes glistening.

Night grunted, which Snail hoped meant yes.

She cleared her throat and took a deep breath and said, “Cicero I know Night and Shade love you lots and I’m sorry you died, and I hope you and Ferret can have fun together wherever you are now.” She gave a big sniff and then sad down hard and started to cry again. “I’ll always remember you!” she promised. And she did. When she and Night had kits, she named the one that looked like her sister Fairy, after the strange little plants in her lost sister’s name: Fairykit.

#snail #night #Snailnose #Nightclaw #StormClan #writings #stories #submission

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raevenlywrites · 6 years ago

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Trick or treat

You do not even make it to the hedgemaze of Asylum’s front entrance before a familiar face rushes out to greet you. Naj is dressed head to toe in a calico get up, clearly inspired by the musical Cats. He waves excitedly and runs over to give you a hug–and his entire evening’s load of candy. He remembers you, and wants to go get hot drinks and gossip. You got Treat!

(lol, gotta love Naj. Once he knows he has an admirer, you’ll never shake him. :P Here’s a scene from Asylum’s first draft, the first time Naj takes the stage. He’s just had a very rough night, fought with Seth, fought with Nica, had a good cry in the one of the dressing rooms with Kain–and, as if that isn’t enough, Xavier is in the audience. The Master vampire has been sniffing around Asylum for years, trying to get Nica to “accept his protection”. It’s a tense night, to say the least.)

Thedrumbeat fell, and Naj fell with it, collapsing to the ground with his veilfalling around him. Distantly, he heard a collective gasp from the audience,unaware that this was part of the piece. To be reborn, one must die.

Slowly,he swept a leg out from under his covering, rising to his feet in a low crouch,swaying like a body of water. Functionally, it was a phrase in the song to givethe dancer time to arrange their veil for dramatic upward motion, but Naj hadalways liked the small moment to give respect to the waters that nourished usall. He spread his arms wide, stance staying low, the veil spread out behindhim, rippling with slight flicks of his wrists. He counted out the drum beats,knowing there would be no flute to cue him to rise from the depths-

But thena voice rose from the darkness of the stage beside him. He faltered, headwhipping around to the sound but his body knew the motions he should take andcontinued the dance without him. Arms arced upward in the direction he’d turnedto face, veiling rippling up and back like a wave breaking on the rocks. As helet his arm slowly fall, his gaze locked on Nica, expression unreadable throughthe gauze but he knew it to be her anyways. Who else would sing for him, wouldknow the song of passing, and come to his side even when he did not deserve it?

Hesurged to life as the dance demanded, twirling his veil about him and spinningit away again, the elegant give and take of his arms and fabric now consuminghis whole attention. It was good, or else he might have stopped and stared andwept at the love Nica still so clearly offered him. There was no room in hishead for those thoughts now, he simply danced.

Whenhe’d spun enough to untangle the gauze from about himself, he did a few loopswith his arms spread wide to signal to his musicians he was ready for thechange. The mournful part of the piece was over, it was time to take the firststeps toward new life.

He fellinto an easy step, arms overhead, opening and closing to billow the fabricbehind him. It gave the illusion of flying, and for the first time Naj realizedthat this dance must be older than cobra-kin, going back to a time when serpentshad wings and they danced on the wind as surely as they moved upon the earth.He tucked that thought away and scanned the crowd, needing to drink in theirenjoyment, to lose himself in the joy of dancing.

#OC Naj #Asylum's early drafts #WIP excerpts

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musicandmusing · 7 years ago

Text

Boy Band

I wrote a thing. I hope you enjoy it.

AKA If Kenma was in a band.

(Warning for some cursing and drinking but everyone is of age)

CHAPTER 1

The crowd chanted as they prepared to finish their set with one of the more popular songs from their second album. Kenma waited in the wings of stage left, taking a quick drink of water and wiping his forehead with a towel. He re-adjusted his leather cuff and rings, breathed deep, and headed back onto the stage to the sound of cheers. Kenma on stage isn't actually Kenma. He was Kin, bassist and co-lyricist to the band Storyteller, a silent anchor to the rest of the group. Kin was his alter ego, if you could call it that, and he didn't mind. Kenma smirked at the crowd through his bleached hair as he headed to pick up his bass, causing some girls squeal in the front of the pit. He turned away to face Taketora on the drums as he adjusted his instrument and in-ear monitors. They all knew how to keep the crowd going and he was just doing his part. Bokuto and Kuroo were hyping up the crowd with their banter as they all settled in.

“Kou, you should tell the story about the time you decided to dye your hair red!” Kuroo said into his microphone, pushing his guitar to his back. Kenma looked at Taketora and rolled his eyes with a small smile. They had all heard this story so many times but it was still pretty amusing.

“Nooo it’s so embarrassing!” Bokuto grabbed his microphone as he stormed furiously towards Kuroo. The crowd screamed in delight as Bokuto put Kuroo in a one armed headlock, accidentally showing off his muscles.

“Hey hey hey! Do you want to hear the story?” Bokuto questioned, face fallen in despair when the crowd only erupted into more unintelligible noise. He released Kuroo with a grin and playfully punched his arm. “Fine fine it’s not even that good of a story though!”

“Kou just tell the story.” Akaashi piped up from his keyboard, positioned behind Kuroo on stage right. Kuroo gave Akaashi a fist bump in solidarity.

“Aki stop ganging up on me!” This statement caused Akaashi to move from around his keyboard. Bokuto ran to hide behind Kenma as Akaashi pursued him to inflict his own punishment. Kenma darted up to stand on Taketora’s platform, leaving Bokuto to fend for himself. Akaashi caught him in the middle of the stage in his own headlock until Bokuto conceded defeat .

Kenma would never participate in the banter. He couldn’t handle the attention. He just watched as Bokuto finally launched into his story of the time he tried to dye his hair red and it turned pink after a week. The best part was that he couldn’t get rid of the pink for so long because it faded really slowly and they were on tour at the time. He’d refused to dye it after that because he didn’t want to risk having pastel colored again.

“And on that note here’s our last song of the night, Pastel Memories!” Kuroo yelled and started the familiar riff with Taketora. Kenma closed his eyes as he let the music wash over him and joined in.

Let’s color our memories with pastels

Until they wash away with the rain

But when the canvas dries

Let’s start again, [we can start again]

Kenma watched the crowd sing along, a sea of bodies, no person truly distinguishable from the rest. He also quietly sang the lyrics because of course he knows them. Kuroo ran across the stage in time to the song and Kenma mimicked him to swap places, jumping up and down with the crowd.

Fingers covered red and gold

Paint the morning sky

Dawn breaking through the night

A flash of bright color caught his eye as Kenma positioned himself for the break and he whipped his head to follow it. As he sauntered back to his original side of the stage he searched the crowd for the source. A peak of orange hair cut through the mass of blending bodies. But as soon as he found the person they disappeared again.

Chase the darkness and color our memories

[color our memories]

with your streaks of light

Change the landscape of our future

The music cut back into Kenma’s conscious as he stood on his monitor and pulled his attention back from autopilot to finish the song. He put all his energy into performing, going to stand on the riser in front of Taketora’s drums with Kuroo and jumping off simultaneously. Bokuto stood at the edge of the stage and belted the final lines of the song with the crowd. The cheers were deafening. Kenma and Kuroo threw their guitars up into the air for the crew to catch before they all stood together to wave as Bokuto thanked the crowd for a great concert.

Kenma tried to find the person with the orange hair one more time but to no avail so he waved to the audience one more time and ran to the wings, ready to get out of his sweaty stage outfit and take a shower. Ready to turn back to Kenma, another person in a crowd.

They pushed their way through the backstage and down the stairs to the green room below. Bokuto burst through the door first, bouncing into the room with the energy of an excitable puppy. It was as if the more than hour on stage hadn’t affected him at all. Which it really didn’t. What made him great as their frontman was his ability to feed off the crowd’s energy but he always ended up being as hyperactive after a show as he was before.

“Damn if that wasn’t a good show!” Bokuto exclaimed as he jumped over the back of the couch into the furthest seat from the door. A groan escaped one of his bandmates from the hallway.

“How much energy do you have?” Taketora followed behind and made a beeline for the fridge. He popped open the door and grabbed a water and beer. He chugged the bottle of water, shot it into the recycling like a free throw in basketball, and grabbed another bottle before closing the fridge door. He slumped into the last remaining spot on the couch nearest the door, Kuroo having occupied the middle seat next to Bokuto. Taketora sighed into the couch cushions and loosed his grip on his beer ever so slightly to Kuroo’s advantage. He nabbed the beer from Taketora which resulted in immediate protests.

“Come on Kuroo! Go get your own!” Taketora snatched his beer back and protected it with two hands between his body and the armrest. He fixed his steely eyes on Kuroo to deter further attempts to steal his precious beer. He would have been successfully intimidating if a drop of sweat hadn't at that moment chosen to roll into his eye, effectively destroying his tough image as he cried out. This just caused Kuroo and Bokuto to guffaw at the hilarity of the ruined threat.

“Be nice.” Akaashi whacked both of the chortling idiots on the back of their heads on his way to the fridge. He glared at the couch when the distinct murmur of ‘yes mom’ could be heard from Kuroo’s hunched over form, still giggling. Akaashi huffed and turned to grab three bottles of water from the fridge and passed one to Bokuto on his way back over to the dressing table and mirrors by the door, pointedly ignoring Kuroo as he handed the second bottle to Kenma and kept the third for himself.

Kenma nodded his head slightly with a quiet thanks and uncapped his water to take a large swig. He drank half the bottle before turning to the dressing table to shuck off his rings and cuff, dropped into a bag of accessories used for public appearances. Next came his black denim vest, decorated with a few artfully placed safety pins on the pocket and embroidered calico cat across the shoulder blades. From where he stood in front of the mirror he watched Kuroo finally control himself enough to not be laughing out loud at Taketora’s expense. He managed to make it to the fridge and back with a water and beer before another chuckle escaped.

Akaashi stepped next to Kenma and busied himself with toweling off his face and neck. Kenma focused on taking off his eye makeup, thick, dark eyeliner and eyeshadow emphasizing his golden eyes. Another layer of his stage persona removed with a makeup wipe.

“So what was so distracting during Pastel Memories?” Kenma hesitated for a moment, wipe frozen in hand. Internally he cursed Akaashi’s honed observation skills, as good as his own. He continued scrubbing at his eyeliner, one eye on the mirror, refusing to acknowledge his bandmate.

“ Nothing.” He denied but he felt The Look. The Look Akaashi developed from Bokuto and Kuroo’s less than brilliant ideas as a way to diffuse any future idiocy. The Look directed at him meant no escape, pinned to his spot in front of the mirror, truth or… Kenma didn’t know what. Better to just say it quickly. “Someoneinthecrowdwasdistracting.” He muttered.

Kenma’s quick glance at Akaashi showed an amused small smile playing on his lips but nothing to suggest he was laughing at him. However their not-even conversation had been overheard somehow by Kuroo who swiveled in his seat from his animated discussion about the show. His eyes filled with delight, sly grin across his face.

“Oho? Who could have possibly distracted The Kenma? This is rare!” Kuroo waggled his eyebrows suggestively while Taketora and Bokuto turned their attention to Kenma’s quickly heating face.

“Ohoho Kenma saw something he likes?” Bokuto now matched Kuroo’s gleeful smirk. The pair looked like a couple of hyenas, a bit predatory and completely unwelcome. Flushed, Kenma took a large gulp of water to cool off and avoid looking any of his very intrigued bandmates in the eye. Which was the wrong thing to do as he missed Taketora’s approach and nearly spilled all the water he had left when he was put into a headlock.

“No fair Kenma you weren’t going to share about the hot girl you saw? You know I can’t see the crowd behind my kit! You gotta tell us!” Kenma wriggled out of Taketora’s grasp and darted to the nearest chair where he could probably avoid further unexpected manhandling. His lack of response however had the drummer stalking towards his chair.

“I didn’t see much of them. I don’t even know if they were a boy or girl.” He sighed, exasperated. “Or if they were even remotely attractive.” He added to crush further questioning from Taketora. Taketora froze and then slowly shuffled back to the couch to slump against the cushions in despair.

“Then how were they distracting if they weren't even hot?” He moans.

“I'd like to know that answer too.” Akaashi chimed in from his seat at the dressing table. Kenma decided Akaashi was not going to be in his good graces for a while. He chose not to say so though, opting for a sharp look instead. Damn Akaashi and his stupidly keen observational skills.

“They had bright orange hair. I just thought it was unexpected.” To avoid further interrogation, Kenma stood up and grabbed his clean change of clothes from where he'd left them near their wardrobe. He scurried to the shower, knowing none of his band mates would follow behind him yet. Akaashi would give him privacy and the other three usually waited until the last minute.

It didn't really stop his bandmates from teasing him some more when he came back from his shower but he was at least in a more relaxed mental state to handle it. He diverted their attention easily this time simply by asking who had received more cheers throughout the show, Kuroo or Bokuto. This caused the two to playfully argue over who was more popular. Taketora joined in saying he was the most popular only to have Bokuto immediately dismiss the idea since his biceps were better. It all spiraled into an arm wrestling competition between the three, Akaashi and Kenma watched in relaxed silence. Eventually their manager came and herded them to their tour bus. Only two more stops before the end.

———————

Kenma struggled with writer's block since the concert. Even with two other concerts and an interview about their tour finishing to wipe the memory away, nothing worked. His lyrics were, for lack of a better word, bad. It reached the point where he wouldn’t even show Kuroo, long time friend and writing partner, his ideas.

“Kenma you wrote about oranges again.”

Kuroo had a point though. Kenma had written at least half a dozen ideas with mentions of oranges and a total of zero successful. He couldn’t even help Kuroo with his ideas. It was becoming a problem for Kenma. His mild obsession needed to be broken so instead of sitting in his apartment playing video games to escape, he decided to try and people watch at a nearby coffee shop. Not that Kenma made that choice himself. He would’ve preferred to just avoid the situation as a whole. Akaashi had suggested the idea in group chat and he’d rejected the idea but Bokuto offered to help so he quickly changed his answer. Bokuto was a great singer who always captured the emotion of his lyrics but his collaboration skills were atrocious. He was too hyper and recognizable for Kenma to be able to get any decent work done. And Kenma knew that Akaashi and Kuroo would foist Bokuto on him if he continued to say no.

So when Kenma walked into the coffee shop the last thing he expected was a boy behind the counter with bright orange hair. He wanted to face palm but held back the urge. So much for avoiding what he was trying to get out of his head. He’d gotten this far from his apartment though so instead of walking straight back out the door he joined the line to order. Whipping out his phone from his coat pocket, he texted Kuroo the ridiculousness of the situation.

Kozume (1:48 PM): orange alert.

roosterhead (1:48 PM): I thought you were going to people watch -___-

roosterhead (1:49 PM): I will send Bokuto if you back out

roosterhead (1:49 PM): I can’t even look at oranges at the supermarket anymore

Kozume (1:49 PM): I’m in line. Guy behind the counter has orange hair.

roosterhead (1:51 PM): you’re shitting me

Kenma took a quick picture of the menu board to try and capture the barista’s hair without being so obvious. So many thoughts were running through his head. The most prominent being if this was the same person who could’ve been at their concert weeks ago.

Kozume (1:51 PM): [img attached]

roosterhead (1:52 PM): !!!!!

roosterhead (1:53 PM): he speaks the truth

roosterhead (1:53 PM): Shit. What if he’s the concert person?

“Can I take your order?”

Kenma jerked his head up at the sound of the boy’s voice. Brown eyes met his and he immediately ducked his head back down to look at the counter. He hadn’t been paying attention to his movement in line and now he was texting Kuroo about the boy in front of him. He hoped the embarrassment he was feeling wasn’t showing itself across his cheeks. He glanced quickly back and the boy had cocked his head slightly to the side, patiently waiting for Kenma, small smile on his face.

“Large coffee with room please.” Kenma mumbled to the counter. He focused on pulling out his wallet to get the correct change out.

“What name for the order?” His heart practically stopped at that. Did the boy recognize him? He’d covered most of his hair with his beanie so it shouldn’t be so obvious. He wasn’t dressed like how he presented himself on stage. Kenma glanced at the boy again who was now looking at him in confusion for his hesitation which now that Kenma thought about it was probably making the situation worse.

“Kozume.” Holding out a larger bill, Kenma hoped the boy would stop asking questions so he could answer the texts from Kuroo who was causing his phone to dance in his pocket. Thankfully he took the hint and took the money. The boy directed him towards the counter where to expect his order so Kenma nodded his thanks and quickly scurried away to find a table tucked away by one of the front windows. His phone vibrated angrily, demanding he finally respond to Kuroo.

roosterhead (1:53 PM): kenma don’t avoid my question

roosterhead (1:54 PM): kenma I don’t want to read anymore lyrics about oranges}

roosterhead (1:54 PM): you better be getting your coffee from him right now

roosterhead (1:55 PM): you should leave your number

Kozume (1:55 PM): tetsurou stop.

roosterhead (1:57 PM): finally. now answer me

Kozume (1:58 PM): Yes he took my order. No, I wouldn’t leave my number. I’m not you.

“Kozume!” The boy who’d sparked Kuroo’s ridiculous messages called out. Kenma rushed to grab his coffee and send off a text this time to tell Kuroo to wait. He muttered a thank you as he took the coffee and fixed it up the way he liked it. Lots of milk and one packet of sugar. Back in his seat, he set out his battered and loved leather bound journal and his favorite pen from his ever present messenger bag. The book naturally fell open to the heavily scribbled pages about oranges. Kenma winced at his work. None of it felt worth keeping - clearly oranges were not meant to be written about as lyrics. Ridiculous really.

roosterhead (2:00 PM): sooo…

roosterhead (2:00 PM): I should expect more songs about oranges then

Kozume (2:01 PM): no. Oranges clearly don’t make a good song.

roosterhead (2:01 PM): you think he’s from the concert?

Kozume (2:02 PM): how am I supposed to know? I only saw a few glimpses of that person and it was dark.

roosterhead (2:03 PM): didn’t stop you from writing about oranges for two weeks

Kozume (2:03 PM): …

Kozume (2:03 PM): oranges are delicious in winter/let me share one with you under the kotatsu/let’s listen to the silence of snow falling around us

roosterhead (2:04 PM): no

roosterhead (2:04 PM): stop it

roosterhead (2:04 PM): I’m sorry

roosterhead (2:04 PM): your lyrics are great. Just no more oranges

roosterhead (2:05 PM): although I liked the last line

Kozume (2:05 PM): so do I. I’ll save it.

Kenma pulled his journal into his lap as he got comfortable in his chair. He sank into the cushions and uncapped his pen to start a fresh page, taking a sip of his drink. The coffee helped to loosen the tension from ordering, words slowly coming to him for a first draft.

Let’s listen to the silence of snow falling around us

Warm breath fogging the clear skies

Melting into rain drops on your cheeks

Washing away the tears from yesterday

Kenma took a picture of his progress to send off to Kuroo then sat back to stare out the window with his coffee. Kuroo was fun to have a writing partner. Not that Kenma would tell him that. In the midst of any hangout if one of them was struck with inspiration they would drop everything to work instead. For all Kuroo’s teasing he was always supportive and great at bouncing ideas back and forth with Kenma. So he watched the customers come and go while he waited for a response. He didn’t want to push his luck with more lines just yet since he’d possibly just broken his writer’s block. Who knows. The next lines from his head to his pen could be awful.

It didn’t take long before he started observing the barista behind the counter. He radiated this positive energy that naturally affected the people around him. His coworkers clearly appreciated his overflowing happy vibes and slightly too-loud laugh. He could even disarm the crankiest of customers just by smiling at them. He was like a snake charmer or, no, more like a hypnotist in the best way for the people on the receiving end. Over and over again Kenma couldn’t help but consider this person who brightened everyone else’s day. He tried to watch other customers, pay attention to conversations but his eyes would slide right back.

Kuroo finally responded with edits and additional lines. Kenma focused back on his journal to add the lines from Kuroo and write more. The lyrics were beginning to take structure and it excited him. He had broken his writer’s block on oranges ironically by seeing the very thing that had started the whole dilemma. Well probably not the very thing. The likelihood was too small. Better to say a representative of the orange-haired community.

A woman with her son walked in as Kenma was pausing for a sip of his coffee. He watched the young boy, probably no more than four or five years old, hide behind his mom’s leg as the came up to the counter. The boy kept looking at the barista, unsure whether he felt safe coming forward. With his brightest smile he’d given since Kenma’s arrival the barista looked straight at the boy and asked him what he would like the most. The boy looked at his mom who gave him an encouraging smile and he moved forward to look at the baked goods in the display cabinet next to the register. He glanced at his mom one more time before he pointed to the cookies and stuttered out his request. The barista smiled more if it was possible and continued to prompt the boy into speaking, asking more easy questions.

Kenma watched the whole scene play out, the boy coming out of his shell, emboldened by the positive responses he received from the barista. He wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing until the barista caught his eye. Immediately Kenma flooded with dread and embarrassment, gathered his journal and pen and shoved them into his bag. He grabbed his coffee, slung his bag over his shoulder and tried to quickly but inconspicuously exit the shop. He glanced at the barista one more time before leaving only to see he was watching him this time with a slight smile. If Kenma wasn’t blushing before he most likely was now as he ducked his head and shoved himself out the door.

After he’d walked a few blockers, Kenma decided that although it ended awkwardly he had been more productive at the coffee shop than he had in weeks. He even had some other ideas floating around that he wanted to share with Kuroo. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go back another day. Just after he took a week to hide in his embarrassment at home.

#kozume kenma #kenma #hinata #hinata shouyou #hinata shōyō #band au #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#kuroo tetsurou #bokuto #akaashi keiji #taketora #taketora yamamoto #fanfic #I made a thing #kenhina #kenma x hinata

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sp1resong · 2 years ago

Text

I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!

(post under cut bc it ended up being rather long)

she's the demigod daughter of life (as mentioned in the original post) and has lightning magic. she mostly grew up on the streets of London (her last name is Milk bc she needed a last name for something, panicked, and wrote down the first word that came to mind). she has three adopted siblings (brain-link sister Cinnamon/Cindy, older sibling Jade, and younger sister Star) and. way too many biological ones (life having a shitton of kids is canon). she wound up at the magic demigod house called Godborn at age 8 with all her siblings, blah blah blah backstory shit over. she's nicknamed the Professor bc she likes going on long tangents about obscure subjects that don't really matter. she probably kins the metaphor cat, which is to say she's really rather stupid and does idiotic things to find out what will happen. the clown murder thing was basically Shade (daughter of Death) inviting Snowflake and a couple other friends to the Underworld, an idea that ended Disastrously. uhh there's a lot of plot here but she's not part of it so. she was the one to discover the Second, Spookier Basement, which contained tapes from another timeline (the apocalypse in which she joked about clown tax evasion). there's not much with this plot yet but it is lore significant so ! anyways she later found a book in the regular basement, which was obviously very suspicious and probably cursed so of course she read it (she had to see what would happen). it contained the instructions for a summoning ritual, which she, of course, preformed (see above), freeing an immortal named Loki from where he'd been stuck in the gods' prison for the past 3,000-or-so years after insulting Order a little bit too much. she joined him in building a new (country? can you call it a country if it's a bunch of traumatized teenagers and a god who looks like a ten-year-old's original character do not steal?) called Loki House and got into a big fight with Cindy over that (Cindy thought she was being manipulated). Cindy disappeared immediately afterwards (turned out Loki trapped her in his book, oops) and Snowflake was. extremely upset (for obvious reasons). long story short she arson'd Loki House (partly as a diversion while she grabbed the book, and partly bc she hates him) and clawed out his eyes just as it was about to be detonated. turns out Cindy had torn out her own page anyways, and Snowflake spent the next two months desperately trying to find a way to bring her back. eventually she found a strategy that might work and turned to a couple friends to enact it. basically she went into the void, found Cindy, and brought her back. It... worked, technically, although now they're both heavily marked by the void now (visibly, too, now snowflake's a colorpoint, cindy basically looks like a calico, and they both have dark sclerae and pupils always slightly too dilated) which is. not ideal.

that's abt where their story concludes atm (sorry for rambling), but. uh. here's some more lore

snowflake's canonically in all the fandoms i'm in! this means she's a fan of warrior cats (which has some. implications for this universe, given that cats are their own society with their own culture. can't believe there's a world where warrior cats is more problematic), wings of fire, and tma, is half a fan of deltarune/undertale, and is aware of but not invested in the dream smp.

one time she convinced Misty (voice magician) to teach her how to change her voice purely so she could cover songs better. theater kid energy.

Vehicular Manslaughter is not her only Beloved Son! she also has a rather poorly made plush cat named Gerard.

right uhh sorry for rambling but i love brainrotting about fictional cats at the earliest opportunity

not to ramble abt my ocs but snowflake really is the character ever. she's gen z. she's a computer genius. she's a cat. she's a theater kid. she binges wikipedia as a hobby. she cares about her family more than anything. she owns a worm on a string named Vehicular Manslaughter. she read a fucked-up book once and now she has a brain bond with her sister. she read a second, different fucked-up book and summoned a god. she blew up said god's house and gouged out his eyeballs because he trapped her sister in his book. she jumped headfirst into the void to save her sister without even thinking. she almost got murdered by clowns once. she found out her friend can smite people and was just like 'ok cool'. she runs a minecraft roleplay smp. she's the daughter of Life herself. she joked about clown tax evasion during the literal apocalypse. she's even aroace

#spire rambles #ocs #my ocs #snowflake milk #tales of godborn

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