#anyway these will be available as keychains SOON!!!

[kusanagihaku]

happy lunar new year! ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚ sending you blessings and protection from: obscuary!

[heiayen]

this looks like us! gn!reader x various (kaveh, wanderer, zhongli, childe, kazuha, lyney, venti.)

summary: what things do they match with you? keychains, jewelry, clothing? let's take a look!

tags: implied modern au, around 80-100 words per character, just very short headcanons <3 could be ooc because it's my first time writing in a moment, not proofread that much

notes: ehhhh trying to get back into writing with short silly hcs... hello everyone. grand heia comeback 90% will make second part with more characters !!

Kaveh is the kind of person to have matching keychains with you! He has already got a keychain for his keys, a proud lion guarding the keys... that he manages to lose often anyway, so why not get another one? This time matching yours, and instead of attaching it to his keys (because gods forbid he loses them and the keychain!), he attaches it to his bag. And let me tell you, it does not end on a single keychain!

Most of the time, you don't even know that you are matching anything with Wanderer, seriously. If you ask him to get something matching together then, yes, he will agree, although begrudgingly, but also so often he will buy you something (while telling you to not make a big deal out of it, you're his partner, yes, yes, move on), and a few days later you will notice him having a matching pair of that thing. You never call him out for that, just smile to yourself.

As the gentleman he is, Zhongli is the man to give you matching rings or necklaces, all selected by him with utmost care. Every piece he gets for you two is one of the best quality, and he makes sure it fits your preferences, so don't worry if you wear only one kind of metal! He always pays attention to any stones in your jewelry, to ensure they are the best quality available. And sometimes, you find it so hard to bite down the urge to show off your new ring or necklace to all your friends, saying that yes, it's your partner who got it for you.

Childe is the person to see something that reminds him of you two, and get it, no hesitation. A pair of funny socks (with an animal that reminds him of you), keychains (that teddy bear was similar to you)... a scarf in the same pattern as his, because you need to be dressed well during winter, he doesn't want you to get sick– did he just point at those two chestnuts and said that it reminded him of you two? You don't see it, but whatever makes him happy!

Kazuha makes handmade yarn bracelets for you two, and he's quite skilled at it! He always picks your favorite colors, sometimes with matching pedants and pretty patterns, and you never know that he's making one, usually during late night hours, with the lamp's light as his companion, when sleep doesn't want to arrive. You got a few of them already but will happily accept every next one he makes, proudly wearing them on your wrists. It's always a lovely sight, to look at your joined hands adored by the bracelets he makes. Maybe you should learn how to make them too…?

With Lyney, you will more than often find yourself matching outfits... or at least pieces of it, if you can't wear a fully coordinated outfit. A matching shirt? Sure, that sounds great! You two can get some funny print together on it– or not funny, just a normal print. You two can also dress in a similar style if you don't have anything to match, or even match socks out of all things. Additionally, if you enjoy painting your nails... Lyney would happily paint his nails with a polish matching your eyes, and would gladly help you find one matching his, so that you two can match your nails!

Venti, on the other hand, likes to match... yes, hair clips with you. He got a bunch of them at home, all different. Ones with small flowers or stars, animals even, in so many colors and shapes– the point is, he's got them a lot, and he will happily lend you them so you two can have matching hairclips in your hair. He will also happily buy a pair if he sees one and likes it, and give you one of them. Soon, you will have an entire box of hair clips...

[garblegarden]

I got more of them! Might be the last keychains for a bit because I've been ordering so many of them. They're cherry shrimp! The photoshoot I ordered hasn't come in yet so there'll be nicer photos on the store soon. Maybe I should poke them about it... anyways.

Available here in my store!

[v4mpkandii]

Dead Boy Detectives Mini Keychains

Hai friends!!! Decided to make one last line of dead boy detectives keychains for fun lolz!! U can find these on my kofi for preorder if you are interested in them. Love the show and comics sm n hope to ge the omnibus comic for it soon!!! Anyways, thanks for viewing n love u all :))💕💕💕💕💕

[harmlesslynapping]

I've been working on a little project!

I don't know about you guys, but I grew up with cassettes and CDs. It used to be so hard to obtain enough music to stay relevant and trendy. If you were lucky enough, you'd have friends willing to trade CDs for a few days just so you can bulk up your music library. (Or... you know... with the help of that little lime site...) ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎)

Anyway, that got me into a little project that entertained me for the past few months (while juggling real-life things, ugh). It's finally ready to be released into the world so please take a look at my baby! ⸜(⁃͈ᴗ•͈)⸝

They're fully customisable from the outside to the inside! Even though it's not a real CD, you can tap your phone to it and have it lead to a link destination of your choice (so you're not just limited to promoting music~). You can use it to rep yourself, your works, your band's music, or even just your favourite artiste's works!

Each keychain comes with a stainless steel ball chain and a silicon protector to prevent the chain from unlatching itself! 

This keychain is now available in my Ko‑fi store (along with other goodies too) ◟( •⌄• ू )✧

I'll still be creating more Carrd templates in the meantime~ I have a few unfinished drafts sitting in my Carrd account because I haven't had time to complete them :p May they be published soon~

[channel1200]

hey hey! guess whos only Partially Dead! anyways, ill be putting in orders for these soon, with restocks for the other hang in there keychains! so hopefully theyll be available in keychain form in 2ish weeks!

[bucky-rabbit]

Overheard today at the café I started working at (because being a sorcerer for hire isn't exactly bringing the bread (I have to decline so many offers because of how unhinged everyone is about their breakups wtf)):

Customer A: I have this friend who already has everything, but his birthday is coming up soon, and I just for the life of me can't figure out what to get.

Customer B: I think that I know who you're talking about, I think that I'll get him a buffet coupon for that one very good restaurant they also have in Metropolis.

Customer A: Not everyone has your metabolism or appetite.

Customer C: His birthday isn't for a while, why are you even thinking about it this early?

Customer A: Because he is a good friend.

Customer D: Give him a coupon that allows him to carry you around bridal style.

Customer A: I hope that you're joking.

Customer D: Hey, it'd make me very happy!

Customer A: You'll be getting a keychain and a restraining order.

Customer D: WHAT! WHY!?

Customer A: You know exactly why.

Customer B: To be fair Arrow, you do give some people the creeps with how obsessive you can be.

Customer D: AM NOT! I just thought that B and I were the bestest of friends.

Customer B: I'm pretty sure that honour goes to that one local cop.

Customer A: Gordon and I have worked together for a long time.

Customer B: SEE? His best friend is the cop.

Customer C: And you are dating his son.

Customer B: WHO TOLD YOU THAT

Customer C: The tabloids of Central City after you two were seen in a compromised position during a mission.

Customer B: I SLIPPED!!

Customer A: Unlikely, you are known to wear the best anti-slip shoes available along with you possessing the fastest speed known to man. However if you are dating Nightwing, I won't be mad, just disappointed.

Customer B: Ouch.

Customer A: This isn't helping me to come up with a good gift for Superman. Having this meet-up is a waste of time.

I looked up and the people talking were BATMAN, FLASH, GREEN ROBIN HOOD AND THE FUCKING THEMYSCRAN WARRIOR PRINCESS WHAT THE FUCK.

Anyway, I suggested that they'd get this Superman flowers since everyone should receive them at least once in their life since they have tons of different meanings and then asked them if they could not hold the line longer with their arguments about Flash's love life and whether or not green Robin Hood is a creep.

I got a 100 USD tip from that.

I still don't know what the fuck any of them were doing in Gotham safe for Batman.

My new headcanon is that Green Robin Hood is Batman's ex and this Superman is his current flame.

[melodic-cherry]

Hello muppet tumblr ^_^

I wanted to say this even tho this affects no one

I’m a little bit sad because I was originally going to get mayhem backpack. I still can hypothetically it’s more due to my Autism I like keeping things the same. I’ve been using the same bag for a while and honestly, I just wouldn’t put the backpack to use so I suppose it would be a waste of money. Not that collecting isn’t cool ( bc I collect everything related to my special interests ) but for some reason …. I just don’t collect backpacks, even if it is related to my special interest. ( idk why ?? ). HOWEVER on the upside I’m hoping that by 9/7 when we have moneyz again I’ll still be able to pre-order these Dr. teeth and the mayhem keychains off of Etsy. ^_^;; to put on my bag… I do have my holo heart teeth pin I wear on my muppets hoodie 24/7 ( by Mel and the Etsy stuff is by Mel too check them out !!) ANYWAY I love the backpack and I would love to have it, but I know I’m realistically not going to, but I am grateful that I can get other things. Like I remember as soon as I knew that the Mayham shirts hit my local hot topic I bought the ones available plus the muppet hoodie XD!!!

THATS ALL THIS MAKES NO SENSE ^_^;;…

[shopwitchvamp]

Aww, thanks! I appreciate it :] I mostly don't do prints, bags, etc. anymore because after leaving cons, or even as I shifted to more and more clothing at cons, people didn't really want them anymore. They also used to sell semi-regularly on etsy along with buttons and pins) but once etsy made all of their garbage changes and raised fees a ton sometimes I'd barely profit on those sales & they started coming in a lot slower anyway. Now that I've left etsy entirely (besides for the occasional UK order) I just feel like that art stuff doesn't really have a good place to go anymore, and I'm not that interested in trying to sell them. I know some people like you would want them! But overall, the demand just isn't there anymore. I've said it before & will definitely say it again: these days I try not to be in the business of selling people stuff they don't really want, haha. Same reason I'm cutting enamel pins & face masks from my product lineup soon, and have cut a lot of other stuff along the way (lanyards, bags, coin purses, keychains, buttons, all-over-print shirts, slow selling clothing designs etc etc). It just makes the most sense to focus on the things that DO sell without a huge struggle and to keep doing more of that. Vaguely an 80/20 rule sort of thing, if you're familiar with that. Apologies to anyone that wants prints or big art pieces on stuff, but I think much like with crocheted plushes (which I sometimes get people begging me to start making again..) those days are behind me. (PS: If you really want something Cry Me a Rainbow tho, including shirts, prints, and more options, I do have that piece up on redbubble. The Adventure Time one isn't available because copyright.)

hello!! i was wondering if you’ve ever sold work at any conventions in the midwest? i saw your recent post about discounted wares and realized i own a few of those exact pins! but i’ve never ordered online from you (unfortunately, bc ur stuff slaps) and can’t remember where i got them, so i was curious! thanks :)

Yeah! Back in the day when I did a lot of cons (2013-2019 or so) I went all over the place. Lots in Texas because that's where I am, but also Kansas when I lived there for a while, Oklahoma, Louisiana, Georgia, Washington DC, Colorado, Illinois, and possibly some other states I'm forgetting about. If you bought some of those currently discounted pins from a table that had crocheted plushies, pins, prints, some skirts, zipper bags, lanyards, joggers, and shirts- that was me under the name "Syppah's Cute Creations". Example table from 2016 Katsucon:

If it was a big booth with a lot of clothes & accessories in all sorts of styles, then it was probably from Fresh Hot Flavors (when I was 1 of 4 artists in that group). Example from FHF at RTX 2018:

Either way, I'm glad you've found me again :] thanks for supporting me back then!!

[celestialcrownsvn]

Progress Update 12/20/22 - Scene teaser, background sketch, kickstarter rewards, character quiz!

Hello all! Thank you so much for following Celestial Crowns thus far! ✨ Please wishlist on itch.io (https://harlevin.itch.io/celestial-crowns) so that you can follow the devlog, which features more in-depth updates than I post here. The Steam page will not be created until closer to Kickstarter timing. 👍🏾

Anyway, let’s jump in! 

Writing

I’m currently working on Aalam’s route! 🌌 There’s about 5,000 words so far and I’m just about to start scene 3. My goal is to write one scene a day until route completion.

Here’s a little sneak peek.This will feature the “spoiled” choice option, and a male Terra.

Terra "And what has your mood so elevated?"

Aalam "I am eager to begin the journey home. Andromeda awaits, and she is beautiful in the fall. You will be pleased."

Terra "I'm sure."

Aalam "Come, I will not have my future [groom] so displeased. What must I do?"

Terra "Get me another drink, please?"

"I only asked for a moment of peace and quiet, but Aalam seems pleased by the simple task regardless."

Aalam "Consider it done, Milav."

Terra "Excuse me?"

Aalam "I thought the good Advisor was exaggerating when he said you were behind in your studies."

Aalam "It is a word in the ancient tongue, it means \"beloved.\""

"I clear my throat, embarrassed that I didn't realize. I have never been very good at learning the second language, it seems to go in one ear and out the other, but Royals are supposed to be fluent."

Terra "Is that appropriate? We hardly know each other."

Aalam "We will know each other better soon enough."

"He gives me a polite nod before stepping away to get the drink, and I sigh." Terra "I thought I'd at least get a few months before having to suffer through pet names."

Celeste "Aw, that's so cute!"

"I jump, turning to see Celeste close behind me."

Terra "Celeste! Were you listening to our conversation?"

Celeste "Of course not. I was making myself available in case you need anything. Until you leave the palace, I am still your personal maid, after all."

"I give her a knowing look, but she just flutters her eyelashes innocently."

Terra "Well then, I {i}need{/i} you to dispose of this glass and find someone to clean up this mess."

Celeste "As you wish!"

"She bows and leaves to follow my orders. Aalam returns shortly after with a fresh goblet of wine, and I accept it with a \"thank you.\""

Aalam "You're very welcome. If you like wine, then you will be pleased by the castle stores in Andromeda. We have an extensive collection, some with over 100 years."

Terra "Fascinating."

Aalam "I see you are a hard man to impress. That is all right, I look forward to many, many attempts."

"I watch him over the rim of my glass as I take another drink."

Terra "Why bother trying to impress me? I've already agreed to marry you. What do you hope to gain?"

Aalam "Your love, of course."

"I nearly laugh out loud."

Terra "With all due respect, I'm sure we can both agree that this is a political marriage. Love has nothing to do with it."

Aalam "Not yet. But that doesn't mean it never will. Why limit ourselves to an existence where we merely tolerate each other? There's no reason not to test our compatibility in areas other than the practical. We might just fall in love."

Kickstarter

The Kickstarter is still planned for May, and I am quickly trying to gather all needed assets! 🎨 The currently planned rewards are:

Stickers

CG pack

Posters

T-shirts

Keychains

And more!

Some rewards I don’t want to start until the routes are complete, as they’ll need the context. That’s why I’m trying to finish at least the rough drafts quick. I hope to complete Aalam’s by the end of January, Sahi’s in February, and Lune’s in March.

But some rewards are in progress now! I’m currently working on the stickers. 

I decided to draw them as a set on one sheet, so they could be interacting with one another. Aren’t they cute? 🤗

I haven’t decided if I’ll also be drawing the keychains or if I’ll ask one of the other artists.

Which kickstarter reward are you looking forward to the most?

Backgrounds

More backgrounds are in progress! Here’s just a peek at the beautiful sketch Stef has made for the grand hall. 🥰

It’s enough to make me cry 😭 every background just makes the game more and more beautiful. I can’t wait until I get to show off everyone’s hard work! 

Character Quizzes

Finally, I’ll be posting character quizzes for each of the main characters! First up, Lune! Respond in the comments with any questions you’d like to ask the next character, Sahi! I’ll probably do a separate post for this as well.

[Picture text:

Q: So, what is your role in the castle?

A: Publicly, my role is to give the Monarch guidance on a spiritual and political level. Privately, I’m just here to make sure Terra doesn’t screw something up beyond repair.

Q: Do you enjoy working for Terra?

A: No. They make me attend a daily tea time. As if I have nothing better to do than sit and socialize.

Q: If you were King, what would you change?

A: The first thing I’d do is reevaluate General Sahi’s fitness for his position. I believe the previous King was far too generous with him.

Q: What’s your favorite color?

A: Is that a joke? Any decent citizen of Lauté bleeds purple.

]

Conclusion

That’s all for today, folks! Please please please reblog this to get it out to as many people as possible! Once this tumblr hits 300 followers, I will reveal the full version of Sahi’s CG! 🥳

[startanewdream]

For @sweeethinny, inspired by her drawing of Lily's dress for the celebration of her 25th wedding anniversary, because I couldn't think of anything else since I saw her beautiful drawing:

~*~*~*~*~*~

“This one looks nice.”

“Nah, it’s too thick. You have tiny fingers.”

“What about that pair then?”

“Too thin. It looks like a keychain.”

“And I’m guessing that one is too fancy?”

“You know me all too well, Lils.”

She shakes her head, more amused than anything after three days into their shopping spree. For a pair of wedding rings.

Everything else went smoothly on their wedding plans. They agreed on the venue upon first visit and the date they wanted was available. They decided on the wedding cake and the decoration and even the template for the invitations—the designer didn’t understand the stag and doe, but didn’t ask many questions either—, including the type of paper. Lily picked her wedding dress on the first store she visited, to her friends’ dismay. James got his suit approved by Sirius on the second try, which was considered a success.

Until they went shopping for their wedding rings and then they realized that there were multiple options of wedding rings and surprisingly none of them seemed to fit.

“We can just craft one,” she mumbles to him while the kind sellswoman runs to present them another set of wedding rings.

“It could be…” James mumbles, unsure, and Lily can’t blame him. She is also starting to think they won’t ever find the perfect ring. Until— “Hey! Those are cool!”

Lily follows the direction of his gaze. James is looking at another shelf, one that wasn’t presented for them and Lily knows exactly why as soon as she notices the rings there.

“We can’t have those, James,” she tells him patiently. “See the silver band around them?”

“Yeah, that’s what I liked! It reminds me of the rings my parents had.”

“They would have. The silver is to represent their 25th wedding anniversary.”

“How come?”

“Oh, you don’t know? Each anniversary of a wedding is associated with some type of gift. The first year is cotton, I think. The most known are 25th and 50th anniversaries. Silver is for 25th, golden is for 50th.”

“But wedding rings are already made of gold.”

Lily shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s just the way it is. It’s cute to think your parents had a wedding ring with a silver band, some couples add the silver to their wedding ring for celebration.”

“Why can’t we have one of those now anyway? I’m planning to stay married with you all my life, and that includes all wedding anniversaries.”

Warmth spreads through her body. Lily blames the easiness in James’ voice; he is not trying to declare his love for her in his sentence, he is speaking as it is obvious they will be together, as if he can’t fathom his life otherwise.

It’s nice to imagine them 10, 25, 50 years in the future, growing old together.

“Let’s save those rings for our 25th wedding anniversary,” she tells him, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “And hopefully find our perfect wedding rings so we can get married in the first place.”

________

The bells ring at the small church at Godric’s Hollow and Lily feels back to 25 years ago, standing nervously at the doors of the church, holding her father’s arm. It had been silly to feel any fear then, because she had been sure about her decision to marry James, young as they were, and it’s even sillier now, but she can’t help the quick beating of her heart.

“You know, you can still give up,” Sirius tells her, smirking, as he offers her arm to her. “I can lend you my motorbike, it’s parked outside.”

“You are 25 years late in your proposition, Padfoot,” she replies, grinning as well, and he winks at her as the doors of the church open.

It’s a Wednesday night and the church is almost empty save for Lily and James’ closest friends and family. She gets a quick glimpse of Harry waving at her from the first row of seats, but then, just like it happened all those years ago, once Lily meets James’ eyes, she can’t see anyone else.

Twenty-five years ago she didn’t doubt she still wanted to be with him and she still doesn’t.

“You look beautiful,” he tells her, his whisper carrying through the church and making their guests chuckle with the obvious adoration in his voice.

James is oblivious to anything else but her; he raises his hand, running it from her cheeks to her shoulder and down to her bare arms before he intertwines their fingers, and when his gaze falls to the slit that shows her leg, he winks at Lily with an expression that seems better fitted to their upcoming second honeymoon.

And then, just like in the first time, she can’t really focus on the ceremony.

“Your wedding rings?” the priest asks, and James glances at their son. Harry rushes to give him a velvet box that seems strangely worn out and dusty.

When James opens the box, Lily sees a pair of shiny new wedding rings, the gold and the silver intertwined in a delicate pattern. There is something strangely familiar about those rings, but not what she expected.

“Those aren’t our original wedding rings,” she notes, surprised. James grins.

“No, these are the ones we first saw in that jewelry store the day we bought our first wedding rings.”

“You went back there to buy them? I thought that store had closed years ago.”

“Oh, it did. I went back to buy them the same day, right after you got home.”

“You did? Why?”

“I told you we would still be married in 25 years. I kept them all those years waiting for this moment.”

“Oh, James…” She pulls him closer, kissing him even though the ceremony is still not over. There are giggles and sighes, but Lily feels only James’ lips and that happiness she associates with him for more than twenty-five years. “All I want is 25 more years with you.”

“And then 25 more?”

“As long as we can have it. Until the end.”

[cutesilyo]

i know your eyes in the morning sun — an indophil fanfic

When a homesick Indonesia is unexpectedly taken out of his meeting for a day trip in Rome with Philippines, he isn't expecting much more than exhaustion ahead of him. Instead, what happens is a whirlwind of food, fun, and a surprising amount of reflection on their histories and differences as nations. And as he looks deeper and deeper in the other nation's bright eyes, he learns to come to terms with the feelings he's been ignoring for far, far too long.

Alternatively: a nation who's too attached to the past goes on a date with a nation whose entire philosophy is built on trying to live in the moment. Yes, there is kissing involved.

Also available on AO3, FF.net

—

“Tell me why we’re here again,” Indonesia groused.

“Unofficially, it’s because I’m busting you out of that damn meeting.” Philippines grinned, his purple eyes glinting mischievously under Rome’s bright sun. “Officially, it’s because we’re on a date.”

All Indonesia could do was sigh. He had arrived in Italy two days ago for a G20 summit, and all the meetings he’s had to attend since then had left him tired and restless. It would have been easier if it was like a normal ASEAN meeting, where he was at least familiar and friendly with all the members. But in the G20, he was the sole Southeast Asian nation there, and he found it difficult to get a word in everyone else’s chaos. Most of the time, he simply preferred to keep his head down and daydream about going back home.

It was during his third-favorite daydream (a peaceful afternoon at Borobudur, dressed in gold just like the old days) that Philippines had burst through the doors with his perpetually bright eyes and cheeky smile. Before he could even process what was happening, Philippines was happily dragging him out of the room while everybody else waved them goodbye.

And that’s how Indonesia found himself in his current predicament. Outside some random pizzeria in a foreign country, dazed out of his wits, and with the one nation who got under his nerves the easiest.

He really wanted to go home.

“Oh, don’t give me that look!” Philippines patted him on the shoulder with a laugh, and Indonesia couldn’t help but tense uncomfortably. “It's not like this is a real date, I just made up some lame excuse to get them off my back. Besides, you were bored out of your mind there, weren’t you? I bet you weren’t even listening. You were probably thinking about your temples.”

“No,” he denied, but the other nation simply smirked knowingly. He felt his face go red in embarrassment. “Well, can you blame me? I don’t feel right around all those Westerners . . .”

Philippines just laughed at him as they walked in.

There wasn’t much to walk into. It wasn’t a fancy restaurant, but just a small family-owned business that only had two round tables to the side. Other than them, there didn’t seem to be any other customers. Different flavors of pizza were behind glass, oddly rectangular in shape rather than the circular pizzas he was used to seeing in advertisements, but their names and prices went unlabeled. Even if they were, he doubted that it would help him much; while he was steadily getting used to English, the Romance languages were an entirely different matter.

“Buonasera,” the middle-aged woman behind the counter greeted them.

Indonesia could only nod awkwardly in response, but Philippines grinned cheerily. “Buonasera! Ciao bella, come stai?”

The two struck up a light conversation while he tried to decide what kind of pizza to get. He was used to thick-crusted, American-style pizzas, and he really didn’t see the point of eating something so expensive when a good terang bulan was always available. Besides, even if he didn’t particularly like pizza, he could see that the ones available here were an entirely different beast from the ones Pizza Hut sold at home. Much more greens and vegetables, for one.

Indonesia hoped he didn’t look too clueless when Philippines finally turned to ask him what kind of pizza he wanted. He just pointed at a random one and prayed for the best.

The other nation looked amused, but he didn’t comment any further. He just turned back to the woman and presumably rattled off their order in rapid-fire Italian that he could barely catch. They continued their conversation from where they left off, and whatever it was that Philippines was saying, it made the woman blush like a maiden. Suddenly, for a reason that he refused to name, he felt consumed by irritation.

His stony silence continued until the woman had given them their pizza, warm and each slice served in a small tray, and bid them goodbye. He’d barely given them a glance until they sat down on a bench just outside the pizzeria.

“So, what do you think?” Philippines asked him. He seemed more excited than he was. “This is your first, right?”

“I’ve eaten pizza before,” he grumbled.

“But this is different,” the other nation insisted. “This is pizza al taglio, Rome’s specialty! Come on, just start eating it already. I could hear your stomach grumbling since we left the meeting room.”

Indonesia stared at the pizza dubiously, ignoring how quickly Philippines was eating his own slice just beside him, before giving it a bite.

It was . . . good.

Not that he was going to tell the other nation that. He couldn’t bear the smug smirk that would be thrown his way.

Instead, he said, “It’s folded. It’s like a sandwich.”

“Boo,” Philippines stuck his tongue out at him. “If you must know, it’s called panino and it’s a lot better than eating it unfolded.”

“Unfolded,” Indonesia repeated. “You mean, like normal?”

Philippines gasped overdramatically. “I can’t believe you just said that! No, pizza al taglio is supposed to be eaten panino! Just ask Romano, he’ll say it's the best.”

“And I imagine if you ask Italy Veneziano, he’d say the opposite.” He took another bite, careful not to let any of the grease on his hands, and hummed appreciatively. “I think I ordered something different though.”

Philippines just laughed, a bit sheepishly. "I . . . may have taken the liberty of changing your order. The one you pointed at back there had pork sausage slices on it, so I got you something more halal. That one has arugula and mozzarella, and I know you like things a bit spicy, so I asked the lady to give you something more piccante. This slice has pepper flakes baked in the dough."

"Oh," he blinked, a bit stunned. Indonesia felt warmer than the pizza in his hands. "Terima kasih."

"Hey, as long as you're here with me, ako bahala sa'yo." Philippines stood up and grinned at him, eyes bright and his half-eaten pizza in his hand. "You know, the best thing about pizza panino is that you can eat them while we're on the go! How about we walk around the city, and I'll take you out on a real date?"

------

This was a mistake.

He and Philippines have never really hung out together much; either they only met for formal occasions or they were always joined by at least one other ASEAN member, so the chances they had to be alone were usually few and far in between. If he was being honest, it was probably better for his heart that way.

Still, he probably should've known better than to let Philippines take charge, because his definition of walking around and the other nation's idea of walking around were vastly different things. For one, he'd definitely rather be driving rather than walking anyway. It didn't help that he was still stuck in his stuffy formal suit and dress shoes, while Philippines was both comfy and stylish in his boots, jeans, and a fashionable overcoat. And though he preferred to get to his destinations as quickly and efficiently as possible, Philippines loved making stops at every little statue or shop that interested him. What's worse is that he couldn't just leave the other nation behind — between the two of them, Philippines was the only one who actually knew how to speak Italian and knew how to get around the city. His only choices were to suffer alone in a foreign land or to slowly murder his feet following Philippines around, and just this once, he'd rather swallow his pride.

"If only my motorcycle was here . . ." Indonesia sighed. "How long are you going to take?"

"Just a bit longer!" He heard Philippines shout from the back of the souvenir shop. "My neighbors would never forgive me if I didn't get them anything, you know!"

He was idly inspecting a small plastic replica of the Coliseum when the other nation emerged a few minutes later, proudly carrying about a dozen silver keychains in his hands. Indonesia couldn't stop himself from grimacing at them; in rupiahs, that was probably the cost of a plane ticket.

"You aren't going to buy anything?" Philippines said. He was fiddling around his pockets for spare coins. He seemed to have forgotten that his wallet was probably in the small leather bag he was carrying, and Indonesia didn't feel like telling him.

"Pass," he said. "I'll wait outside, if you don't mind."

Philippines shrugged, turning back to the cashier. "Suit yourself."

As soon as he stepped out into the cobblestone streets, he immediately felt restless for a smoke. The architecture, the weather, the people . . . it all just reminded him how far away from home he was. It was autumn in Italy, colder than it would ever get at his house, and with a sharp pang of his heart he realized how much he missed everyone.

He started worrying about whether Singapore had gotten enough sleep last night, because often the young nation would look at data until the sun rose, looking for where he could make himself stronger. And Malaysia got dehydrated too easily for someone with his water resources, so he always had to remind him about refilling his water dispensers every once and a while. Brunei had always been quiet, but he'd been too reclusive than was healthy these days; and even though Timor-Leste couldn't face him sometimes, he still hoped she was doing alright. He trusted Thailand and Vietnam could handle everything over at the mainland, but he couldn't help but be concerned about them anyway.

Then there was the nation he was with right now.

All of a sudden, he felt a warm breath on his neck and a whispered: "You're scaring the other tourists, mahal."

Indonesia barely held back a scream, furiously turning to face a mirthful Philippines that was clearly having the time of his life teasing him. "Would you stop scaring me like that? And don't call me mahal!"

Philippines just waved him off with a laugh. "Please, that was barely a scare. And you deserve it! I thought the way you kept staring at my bag was weird, but you meant to tell me my money was in it, right? Silly Indonesia, I can't know things if you don't actually say it."

"Don't blame me for your denseness," he shot back. "Besides, your idea of a date must be really sloppy if all you do is take me to tourist shops. Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Are you saying you wanted something more romantic? Oh Indonesia, how bold of you!" Philippines looked at him slyly.

He was suddenly reminded of how difficult it could be to talk to Philippines sometimes. "I just thought you'd take me to actual places, like the Coliseum. Or maybe a castle, I don't know."

They walked together in amiable silence towards a nearby bus stop. He almost cried in relief when they finally sat down after what felt like hours of walking. Maybe Indonesia was just feeling his age, but he was not nearly as full of energy as the nation beside him.

"I know you've been to the Coliseum before, so taking you there isn't nearly as exciting," said Philippines, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone. "Just so you know."

"Everything always has to be exciting for you," said Indonesia, with a huff.

The other nation winked at him. "What can I say? I love a little thrill."

He couldn't help but be amused at that. Whether it was thrill rides or thriller horror movies, Philippines was always raring to go. Still, though he was grateful, he was starting to feel a bit guilty about all the trouble he put the other nation through. He knew Philippines could be impulsive, but he didn't think he was the kind of person to drop everything and fly to Europe just to rescue him from another boring meeting. "I've been meaning to ask, but how did you end up in Italy anyway? I'd hate to think that you spent so much money just to go here."

"Don't worry! I didn't come to Europe for you," Philippines grinned brightly. "You're just a stop on the destination. I'm actually headed to Munich."

Ah. For some reason, that only made Indonesia feel worse.

"See, when I'm in Europe, I like to start by visiting the Vatican," the other nation continued. "Then Germany said that he had a meeting in Rome too, so we were planning to catch the train together. Didn't you notice that he was rushing to end your meetings as quickly as possible? It's Oktoberfest, you know."

Indonesia nodded slowly. "I guess September does end next week . . . ?"

"Dios mio," Philippines laughed. "I mean the beer festival, not the month. I'd invite you to join us but I know you don't drink."

"Even if I did, I don't think I could keep up with you and Germany," he admitted, which made the other nation's eyes twinkle with pride. "That still doesn't explain why you decided to crash the meeting."

"That's just because you weren't checking WhatsApp, which I'm grateful for." Philippines handed him his phone, which was opened to the group conversation they had with the rest of the ASEAN nations. "Here, I bet you left your phone at the hotel or something."

He did, but that was beside the point. Indonesia took the phone.

The first thing he saw was a selfie of Philippines at the airplane, snuggled up under the airline's provided blanket. Just boarded from Dubai! Be arriving at Fiumicino by morning, anything you guys want?

Abang is in Rome too, isn't he? Malaysia had asked. In that case, the both of you should bring back gifts! I need the best cheese for my sea cucumbers. Also, remember the keychains.

Singapore had sent one of his custom stickers. The merlion was sticking its tongue out.

Stop being so mean to him, or else he'll end up crying to me again, Thailand replied.

Not my problem he's a crybaby, Singapore said. Then he sent another merlion sticker.

Vietnam sent a laughing emoji, and then: You should visit Indo while you're there. You know how sad he gets when he has to go abroad alone.

Malaysia sent a GIF of a crying scene from some old movie.

Eh? But if I'm going to visit him, I want it to be a surprise! Philippines had whined. If he goes online soon, he'll already know. No fun in that.

It should be okay. He's probably asleep now anyway. And he doesn't check his phone during meetings, unlike you, Thailand pointed out.

It will be good for him to see a friendly face, Vietnam added.

Take care of him lah, Singapore had said. Make sure he enjoys himself this time.

PIRI WAIT I HAVE A GREAT IDEA, chatted Malaysia. I'll DM you just in case, so abang can't find out. He'll love it, trust me!

Oh no, said Vietnam, Thailand, and Singapore in separate, individual messages, to which Malaysia simply replied with another GIF. Brunei even mustered the energy to send a worried-looking emoji.

The last message, sent earlier this afternoon, was a selfie of Philippines with a cheeky grin. He was standing just outside the meeting room, and he had sent it with the caption: He won't know what hit him! <3

Indonesia sat there in stunned silence for a few minutes, until he was nudged gently.

"Come on, the bus is here," Philippines stood, putting his hands on his hips. Then he frowned at him. "Hey, Indonesia, is there anything wrong? You look a bit shaken."

"No, everything's fine, I just," he stammered. There was such a powerful feeling in his heart that he didn't have the capacity to explain. "Um, I don't have my phone with me, so. Please thank everyone for keeping me in their thoughts. Tell them I'm doing my best to make all of you proud."

The other nation stared at him for a moment, then smiled.

If Indonesia let a few tears drop while they were on the bus, Philippines was kind enough not to say a word.

-----

Their stop was on top of a hill. There was an impressively large monument of a man on a horse, but Philippines dragged him to the nearby café as soon as they got off the bus, and Indonesia realized that he was probably better off with a nice snack than looking at some old statue anyway. To be fair, he had been waiting for dessert all day long, and the crepes were warm and delicious and more than enough to satisfy his sweet tooth. He finished his in record time, and bought another one right after.

"Ah, there's that smile," Philippines teased, once Indonesia had returned to their spot. "I was wondering where it went."

He was too engrossed with his enjoying his food to respond, but he motioned go on.

"It's just—I've seen you with tourists, you know." Philippines delicately sipped on his drink, slow and careful like an old cat. "Remember when we had that ASEAN hang-out at Bali? The restaurant near our hotel was full of foreign customers, and the staff was overwhelmed, so you decided to help the staff serve tables and entertain the guests. You seemed really friendly there."

"You knew about that?" Indonesia flushed with embarrassment. He thought he managed to sneak out successfully; it was at the point that Vietnam and Laos got crazy drunk, after all. "Well, it's very different dealing with foreigners at my home and actually being in a foreign place."

Philippines hummed contemplatively. "I think I get it. You feel more in control when it's them coming to you, rather than the other way around."

"Yeah, I suppose so." He crumpled the wrapping paper in his hands. "It's different for you though, right? I think you're more used to foreigners than I am."

The other nation laughed nervously. "I'm not sure Boracay and El Nido can even compare—"

"I'm not talking about tourists."

He knew, of course, that Philippines met with many nations as part of his duties, but he had always taken to this role so naturally that Indonesia could only assume that his history had given him a leg up. Spain was stricter on imposing his culture on the other nation than Netherlands ever was with him, or England with Malaysia and Singapore. America was just as obnoxiously stubborn when he colonized him right after. And although he never forgot his roots as part of Southeast Asia, Philippines also kept much less of his pre-colonial culture and history than the rest of them. Anything before Spain took him away was hazy and, as far as his memory was concerned, he had spent his youth growing up with the Americas and Europe — and with his mannerisms and how close he was with the Western nations, he certainly acted like it.

When Philippines arrived at the meeting earlier, everyone was accepting him with open arms. Spain had fondly ruffled his hair and America invited him to a party at his place next week. France had cooed adoringly at how much he had grown since his youth and England reminded him that he was due to visit London's hospitals in the next month. Germany's cheeks were pink as he asked how he was doing and Italy immediately began talking his ear off about food recipes and restaurants. Mexico began crying with joy at the sight of him, while Argentina and Brazil embraced him like family. It was a miracle that the both of them were able to leave as quickly as they did; he was sure that they'd make Philippines stay for at least another hour, if they could.

Meanwhile, Indonesia's own presence was always forgotten. The only time he was talked to the entire meeting was when Australia made an awkward half-joke, half-apology about the spying issue again.

"I guess it's easier for me to relate to them," Philippines admitted, a melancholy look in his eyes. He was looking down at his still half-eaten crepe with an oddly bittersweet smile on his lips; the sun, only just beginning to set, cast a dark shadow on his face. "And for them to relate to me. But I would be lying if I said I don't feel out of place with them too, sometimes. Despite everything, we're still very different. Besides, all the cultural similarities in the world can't make up for the fact that I'm so far away from them all. There just isn't enough opportunity for me to talk to them as much as they can talk to each other."

Indonesia didn't know what to say to that. He settled for a neutral, "I'm sorry I brought it up."

The other nation waved it off. "I'll forgive you if you take a selfie with me later."

He didn't have any choice but to accept.

As he waited for Philippines to finish his food, Indonesia took the time to observe the other people around. Many of them were trying to take a picture with the huge statue, but there were also families walking around with their happily enthusiastic children. If he looked farther, he could see busts of what he assumed were various historical figures lining the pathways. Going by the number of cars that had been parked just across them, it seemed like the park was of good interest for both tourists and locals alike. There were enough people to suggest that the place was well-loved, but there were nowhere near the crowds he'd see when he passed by the other popular tourist destinations. The statue of the man with a horse was large and grand, but he didn't recognize it; he was sure that, whatever this place was, it wasn't featured on the usual travel brochures.

"I'm curious," he said slowly, "as to why you're so familiar with Rome."

Philippines gave him a wry twitch of the lips, sitting his chin on the palm of his hands. "I thought we were done talking about me and the West?"

"This is different," he defended. "I'm just asking why you know about this place. Italy never took us anywhere like this for the G20 formalities."

"Well, of course he wouldn't," he said, idly swirling his drink around. "Just think: if you have a nice and peaceful park that's meant more for relaxation and you also have more famous and historically significant places available, then you would rather take your visiting diplomats to the latter, right? So Italy takes you to Palatino and Campidoglio instead of here. If it were you hosting the meeting, you'd take them to Monas instead of Taman Surapati."

Indonesia thought about that for a moment, but no matter how much he wanted to argue, he was forced to accept that Philippines was right. Then he frowned. "But you just take everyone to Luneta."

The other nation winked. "It's to my benefit that Luneta just happens to be both historical, relaxing, and beautiful. Makes my life a lot easier."

"You're not actually answering my question," he pointed out.

Philippines simply hummed, leaning back on his chair. His hair was blowing in the cold autumn breeze. "There's not much to say. I've had to visit a lot recently, since Italy is full of my migrant workers, more so than anywhere else in Europe. But when we were younger, Romano used to take me here often. The things he'd say — well, now that I think about it, I think you could relate."

He almost choked on his spit. Indonesia had never been in much contact with Romano, especially as his younger brother was always the one who represented Italy in their meetings, but he couldn't see any similarity between him and that foul-mouthed, angry brat. At the very least, he liked to think he was much more friendly and polite.

Uncharacteristically, the other nation didn't take the opportunity to laugh at him this time. Instead there was only a faraway look on his face, pensive as he stared out into somewhere unknown.

After a moment, Philippines finally said: "Do you still remember being with your old empires?"

Indonesia stilled.

"I know I don't, but you were old enough to remember living with the other maritime nations together as Nusantara," the other nation continued. "There was a glory that you could remember living before Portugal and Netherlands came to your shores. You weren't Majapahit, but you carried his legacy and his blood; just like you carried Srivijaya's.

"Romano lived at Spain's like I did, you know. He liked me for some reason, probably because I used to get sick all the time and couldn't really annoy him as much as the others. One day, he took me to Rome for the first time. I was so amazed at finally seeing all the old ruins I used to read about in books, and then when I looked back at him, he was crying. He told me it was like he could never escape the shadow of his grandfather."

Philippines' smile was terribly bittersweet. "I remember thinking that, for the first time, I was grateful I couldn't remember who I was before Spain came. And ever since I met you again, I kept wondering if you ever felt like Romano did. Maybe you had all that burden on you and you never told us. Maybe you felt lonely too."

He remembered.

Back when all of them were just children, back when he had never seen fair skin except for when he traded with the Eastern Asian nations up north. China and India, of course, were always present. Vietnam was older, and despite all the fighting she did, it never looked like she was ever frazzled by it. Myanmar was the same, but because he was so distant and preoccupied with his own kingdoms, Indonesia saw him the least. He would see Khmer more often when she had to pick up her sons, cheerful Thailand, friendly Laos, and belligerent Cambodia, from whenever they decided to come by. In their household, Malaysia was already energetic, but he was always doubly so whenever Singapore was around; those were the days that the smaller nation still admired his brother. Timor Leste was still sweet and shy, hiding behind him at every hint of danger. Brunei, quiet as ever, spent his time diligently picking flowers for a young Philippines across the sea. Steady, dependable Majapahit had welcomed them all with a smile, and taught him to do the same.

Indonesia grew up without ever really knowing what loneliness was. Even after Majapahit had already faded away, Netherlands had visited him much more often than was necessary or appropriate for a normal colonial relationship. And though he was separated from the rest of them, his siblings were never too far from him either.

So he had to take care of them too, when he could. He had to, because he was the one who remembered the most about what life was like, before. He had to, because he was the oldest. He had to, because that was what Majapahit taught him. Whether he began to feel more and more weary as the centuries passed by and his own territory expanded didn't matter, because being able to take care of as many people as he could — that was the greatest power any nation could ever have.

Of course he remembered. He never let himself forget.

A gentle nudge from Philippines shook him out of his silence. Softly, he said, "You don't have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable. Believe it or not, even I know when to back off."

"Sorry, you just caught me off-guard," he said, taking a moment to compose himself. Then Indonesia sighed. "You're not normally so serious. I was completely unprepared."

Philippines pouted. "Is it really all that surprising? I just thought, since you asked me a pretty personal question just now, it's only fair that I do the same to you. Answering that made me feel sad, so you needed to think of something that made you sad too! At least the both of us can feel sad together, instead of just me being sad all on my own."

Indonesia felt his eye twitch. "Your logic is really something."

The other nation just laughed, as if nothing happened at all. Then he stood, his grin wide and his hand reaching out to him, and said, "Come on, it's a complete waste for us to come here if all we're going to do is sit around! You can see all of Rome from Gianicolo, you know."

They watched the sunset from the hill's peak, and seeing the yellows and oranges being reflected in Philippines' purple eyes made for a pretty sight. As the sun shone its last light on the ancient ruins of the Roman Empire, Indonesia felt strangely at peace for the first time since he arrived. Maybe he'd even ask Philippines to properly introduce him to Romano one day.

-----

The Eternal City was beautiful even at night, but Indonesia just felt tired. He could sense that Philippines still wanted to go around with him — he mentioned something about taking him to a turtle fountain? — so they settled for slowly walking down the hill. They chatted about mundane things like food, gaming, and the merits of motorcycles over bikes, and it was unexpectedly nice. For some reason, Indonesia felt as light as air. He still wanted to go home as soon as he could, but he slowly realized that he wasn't all that opposed to just spending time with the other nation either.

"Say, Indonesia," Philippines suddenly said. "Do you know how to get back to your hotel?"

Indonesia took that back. He wanted to go home immediately.

The other nation giggled. "Don't tell me that you don't even remember which hotel you're staying at?"

He quickly turned his head away. He willed himself to look anywhere but the other nation, but he could still feel how Philippines was staring at him.

"Ah! I get it now," Philippines said, delightedly. Indonesia internally cursed himself. "Let me guess. You didn't have any plans of going anywhere but the meeting, the hotel, and the airport, so you thought it was fine if you left your phone behind and if you didn't care to remember your hotel's name. And, you kept falling asleep at the hotel shuttle that takes you to the meetings, so you can't even tell me about the nearby landmarks! My, how careless of you, Indonesia!"

"Why are you so smart," Indonesia grumbled, "for the most stupid of things?"

"I don't hear any denial," Philippines sang. "Well, whatever, that works out for me. Unless you're game for scouring through the dozens of hotels around the city, I guess I have no choice but to take you back to my place, huh?"

He faced Philippines, who was scrolling through his phone again, and said, "You don't have to do that. You can probably just ask Italy which hotel he arranged for me. I can take a taxi."

The other nation hummed. "Going from his Instagram stories, he looks like he's too busy partying with the others. Looks like France even brought out his special wine for the occasion. Hey, would you want to party with them? The bar they went to is just a few stations away by metro."

The last time he went to a G20 party, he and Germany were made to strip so that everyone could stare at their pecs. The expression he made must have been grim, as Philippines immediately backtracked. "I'm going to take that as a no."

Indonesia sighed. "Well, I don't want to disturb Italy and I don't want to waste any money trying to find another hotel. If you're really fine with me staying with you for the night, then I guess I have no problem with it either."

Philippines stopped in his tracks. "Eh? You're not going to make a fuss about it?"

Indonesia tilted his head, quizzically. "And you are?"

For some odd reason, the other nation seemed flustered. He was gripping the strap of his bag tightly and his cheeks were pink. "Well, you know, you're normally so averse to any of my ideas, and you always seem so annoyed with me. I thought, for sure, that you were just going to argue against me again . . ."

"Do you really think so lowly of me?" Indonesia frowned. "I wouldn't have been with you all day if I hated you."

That seemed to perk Philippines back up. He could practically see the sparkles in the other nation's eyes as he faced him and gleefully said, "Ha! You've admitted it! So if you don't hate me, does that mean that you actually like me, Indonesia?"

He couldn't hold back a smirk. "Don't get too ahead of yourself."

Philippines just laughed, cheery and bright.

When they stepped down from the bus, Indonesia was surprised to be faced with a block full of old apartment buildings rather than a fancy hotel. Evidently, the other nation was familiar to the residents; one old lady had grasped him firmly by the hand with a gummy smile as she engaged them in small talk. Philippines then took him to the second building on the right and led him through a few flights of stairs to a dark, wooden door.

The apartment was small but clean. Two bedrooms and a bathroom, then some communal space with a worn sofa and a dated television. There was a kitchen with a countertop, rice cooker unplugged, and more than a few succulents sitting by the window. The other nation's usual travel bag was still on the floor, a duffel bag easily recognizable by the numerous flag patches stitched by the sides as a memento for all the countries he had visited. A small corner was developed into a personal home altar, figures of Jesus and the Virgin Mary surrounded by flowers and golden crosses. Even though it was emptier than Philippines' own home back in Manila, it was still undeniably his in its coziness and warmth. All in all, it was modest and good; certainly more than what Indonesia expected for an apartment that the other nation probably only visited a few times a year.

"It's cute. It fits you," he said politely.

"Aw, you think I'm cute," Philippines teased. He was hanging his overcoat on the coat rack, which was a bit too tall for him — a sliver of skin showed only for a moment before being covered again by his turtleneck top. Indonesia pretended he didn't see. "Please go ahead and sit down, make yourself comfortable. Oh, won’t you take off your suit and place it somewhere? The good thing about Europe is that it’s a lot cooler here, so you can still wear it tomorrow without worrying about sweat and stuff."

“I knew that, at least.” He placed his suit on a nearby chair and sat down on the sofa. Philippines set a saucer full of biscuits at the table and gave him a glass of water, which he gratefully drank. As the other nation sat down beside him, Indonesia couldn’t help but ask, “Is this place really yours?”

“My government didn’t buy it for me like all our other properties, if that’s what you’re asking,” Philippines said, reaching out for the biscuits. There was an audible crunch as he bit into one of them. “One of the Filipinos living here bought it for her son, but he decided to move in with his girlfriend. She thought it would be a waste of money to abandon it, so she gave it to me. When I’m not here, it gets rented as an Airbnb. We share the profits. It’s actually pretty good passive income, you know.”

Indonesia gave him a wry smile. “You always find an opportunity to make money, somehow. I’d say it’s America’s influence, but I know for a fact you’ve been this way since we were kids.”

"My skill is all mine, thank you very much," the other nation boasted, leaning back into the sofa with a self-assured smirk. “I don't suppose there's anything else you remember about me from those days? I assure you, if you thought I inherited my charm from Spain, you'd be dead wrong.”

Your hair used to be so long, he immediately thought. He had taken care of it meticulously, washing it with several oils so it was always smooth and wonderfully scented. Gold adorned almost every inch of his body, painstakingly crafted with the tiniest details, contrasting beautifully with the vibrant textiles used for his clothes. Even as a child, Philippines was already used to traveling often — Tondo and Seludong would take him up north, Butuan and Sulu down south, Sugbu and Panay at the center, and a dozen more kingdoms in between. He loved his boats the most, and Majapahit would patiently humor him by letting the younger nation talk his ear off about the latest developments his different kingdoms had with their boatmaking.

Not that he had ever tried to listen in, or attempted to make prolonged conversation with the other nation. At the time, Indonesia was too busy trying to handle Malaysia and Singapore’s chaos to pay much attention to anyone else. He hadn’t gotten to know Philippines all that well until they met again centuries later; older and more jaded, irrevocably shaped by the circumstances their colonizers had placed them in.

Sometimes he wondered what life would have been like if things had turned out differently. But he didn’t have the energy to waste his time despairing over it all again, not when Philippines was still looking at him so expectantly.

“Your eyes haven’t changed,” Indonesia decided to say. “And as for everything else I remember, there’s nothing I haven’t already told you about before.”

Philippines smiled at him fondly, “You’re as terribly succinct as ever.”

Indonesia smiled back, “And as always, you’re just as annoyingly persistent.”

For a long moment, they just sat there on the sofa in silence ��� easy and comfortable and bathed in the apartment’s warm, golden light. The windows were open, and guitar music from the neighbors was softly permeating the room with its slow, relaxed melody. It was during these kinds of moments that Indonesia's heart felt full; that all he's been through in the past few centuries were worth it, if it meant he could enjoy more days like this. The mood was right and he felt good; perhaps if he was braver, he would have had the confidence to make the most out of it.

Eventually, the moment passed, and the other nation stood. "It's so late already! I should probably get to preparing our dinner. You can freshen up before we eat, if you want."

"Right," Indonesia said, hastily standing up as well. "Ah, may I borrow your phone? I just need to check on something."

Philippines didn't really answer, but he heartily belted out the lyrics to some old love song as he brought out a pot and a chopping board from the kitchen cabinets, so he took it as a yes. Ignoring how the photo for the lock screen looked suspiciously like the sunrise at Bali, he put in the PIN code — 8862, how sentimental of him — and was immediately bombarded by the number of notifications he got. There were messages from everywhere: SMS, Facebook Messenger, WhatsApp, Instagram, Twitter, Telegram . . . it's really no wonder that Philippines was named both the texting and social media capital of the world. Indonesia had no interest in intruding on the other nation's privacy though. As he ducked into the bathroom to wash his face, hands, and feet, he did a quick Google search for sholat times rome.

If he was home, he wouldn't have needed to Google such a thing; the mosques would have already blared adzan through the loudspeakers, reminding everyone in close vicinity that it was time for prayer. His overseas workers would sometimes complain to him about how difficult it could be to pray once they were abroad, that strangers would sometimes gawk at them in public or their employers wouldn't give them the time or space to do it properly in the office. Indonesia often had nothing to offer them but his sympathies. Tonight, he decided, he would pray for them.

"Are you going to pray?" Philippines called out. He was placing a tray in the oven. "Head to the back, go in the room on the right. It should be peaceful there."

"Thank you," he said, and when he opened the door, he was greeted with a welcome surprise.

Though the room was otherwise plain, a vibrantly orange prayer mat stood out — Malaysia's picking, no doubt. Indonesia raised his hands facing kiblat, slow and reverent, and made the mental note to thank his brother later. Thanks to this, he felt significantly less alone.

-----

Philippines made a quick sign of the cross as he sat down on the table. He grinned, "Let's eat!"

It was a modest meal: baked fish with lemons, Filipino-style chop suey, white rice, and a bowl of what was unmistakably Indomie Mi Goreng. While Philippines had poured out a glass of white wine for himself, Indonesia had a glass of orange juice. The other nation was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meal, though Indonesia chalked that up to hunger; Philippines ate quickly and ravenously, shoving spoonfuls of rice and noodles into his mouth without pausing for so much as a single breath. Indonesia felt tired just watching him.

Once they were finished, Philippines patted his stomach with a satisfied sigh. "Ah, that's the good stuff."

"My compliments to the chef," Indonesia said, which made the other nation giggle. "Though I have to say, I would have cooked it differently."

"I know, but then it'd take longer and I was already so hungry — I'd even go as far to say that I was absolutely famished." Philippines groaned, slumping in his seat. "I mean, I know we could've just eaten at some trattoria down the road, but I needed rice. And I wasn't going to settle for some dumb risotto, no matter how delicious it would be. You get me, don't you?"

"It isn't a full meal without rice," Indonesia agreed.

The other nation nodded seriously. "I always felt like something was missing while I was growing up. It wasn't until I was allowed to go back to Manila that I figured out that it was rice. I haven't looked back since."

Indonesia had always known that Philippines had lived in Europe during the centuries that he was a Spanish colony, but hadn't thought any deeper about the smaller implications that had on him. Some things were obvious — his devout Catholicism for one, and the conspicuously Hispanic human name he used in his daily life — but little things like this caught him off-guard. He said, "I'm sincerely very sorry to hear that."

Philippines did nothing but take a long sip of his wine. "No need to pity me so much, it's in the past now. I don't really think about it."

"I'm not pitying you," he muttered, though he wasn't able to look Philippines in the eyes as he said it. Then, louder: "I'm just realizing that there's still so much I don't know about you. I'm your neighbor, and I don't even know what your childhood was like."

Philippines smiled at him, but it was strained. His face was saying I don't want to talk about it even as he softly confessed, "I don't know all about your history either, Indonesia. Not enough. The sentiment goes both ways. And as for my time with Spain . . . well, what is there to say, really? He said he would take care of me, and he didn't. Not in the same way he took care of the others. Whether that's a blessing or a curse, I don't think I'll ever really know. I just know that it's over now, and I'm grateful.

"I bet your experience was different though." The gaze the other nation leveled on him was nothing less than dangerously curious. His purple eyes were filled with strong contempt, but contempt for what, Indonesia didn't know. "Like I said, I don't know the specifics. But I've been told your relationship with Netherlands was something else entirely."

"He and I weren't—" he stammered, more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything else.

But the way Philippines was looking at him made him stop. He took a deep breath and calmed himself; the other nation deserved something more honest than that.

He still remembered how tightly Netherlands had gripped at his arm, decades and decades ago, his scarf flapping helplessly in the wind. Despite all the things that had gone unsaid between them and the years that they spent together, the blond was still unbearably silent. He used to admire that stoic demeanor; tried to emulate it when he was feeling overwhelmed, always so determined not to embarrass himself or the empire. Back when Netherlands had declared him the emerald of the equator, the crown jewel of his power as a nation . . . it had taken all he had to choke back his pride. It had taken all he had to keep his secret, that budding idea that he was meant to be more than just somebody else's precious colony.

Indië, Netherlands had pleaded, and suddenly the great Dutch Empire had seemed so small.

"It was different," he finally said. "But I don't think it was any better, in the end."

With a bittersweet smile, Philippines simply raised a toast. "To tomorrow."

In answer, Indonesia downed the rest of his orange juice in one go. This time, Philippines' laugh was more genuine, and he couldn't help but stare.

He had noticed this before, of course, but now — with the other nation elegantly sitting across him, his purple eyes glittering bright, and the wine glass so tantalizingly close to his lips — Indonesia was stricken by how right at home the other nation looked. Even Singapore, who probably had the most business with the Western countries out of them all, was more guarded whenever he stepped foot on European soil. Yet Philippines wasn't out of place here in the same way that Indonesia felt, and had instead carried the same easygoing attitude he had during their own ASEAN meetings. As much as the other nation's energy and eccentricities irked him sometimes, he also found himself in awe of him as well.

The others were right. If Philippines hadn't come, he would've spent all his free time wallowing around in his hotel room just feeling sorry for himself. But instead, he was enjoying himself more than he thought he would. Hesitant as he was to admit it, he almost found himself wanting to stay in Rome a little bit longer, if it meant the both of them could spend more time together.

"You're not leaving for Munich anytime soon, are you?" Indonesia said, daring to be hopeful.

Philippines rested his cheek on his hand. "If I remember right, the tickets Prussia bought for us were for tomorrow morning? He gets way too excited about Oktoberfest, you know."

Why do I even try to be happy, Indonesia thought darkly.

"Ah, don't look so glum! You have me all to yourself for the rest of the night," Philippines winked. "But I have to warn you, Pien is having his precious beauty sleep in my bedroom, so if you have any special requests we're going to have to be very quiet about it."

"Nothing like that," Indonesia quickly said, his face hot. "I just thought, I might as well treat you to somewhere nice. As a thank you for, uh, taking care of me today. But my flight back home is tomorrow night, and you're catching the morning train with Germany, and now I'm starting to think that we don't exactly have the time . . ."

The other nation waved it off. "We're nations, mahal. We have all the time in the world. Besides, we'll be meeting again for the APEC conference coming up in November, right? I don't mind waiting until then."

"But I do," he grumbled. "And again, don't call me mahal."

Philippines finished his drink and set his glass delicately on the table. "You can promise me that you'll let me sing half the songs when we go karaoke with the others. Or that you'll pay for my food the next time we have a group dinner. Oh! When Thailand makes a mean comment to me in the next meeting, you have to defend me. Say something like Filipino BL series are better than Thai BL series, that'll really get him going."

He was suddenly reminded of how frivolous the other nation could be sometimes. Either that, or worryingly low-maintenance. Indonesia built up the courage and forced out, "I'd rather make it up to you when the two of us are alone."

This time, it was Philippines who was staring. Flustered, Indonesia rambled on. "I just mean—you know, you spent all this time with me even though you didn't have to. So it's only right that I spend more time with you too, just the both of us. It's not good enough if the others are there too."

Philippines offered, "We could watch a movie before we sleep?"

"I'll probably just pass out in the middle."

"Maybe you can make breakfast for us tomorrow?"

"You gave me snacks, dinner, and a place to sleep, there's no way just a breakfast is fair."

"Well, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to spend a night over at your place?"

"It's not about you, not really. It's just, I want to do something for you. Something you want."

"I've been telling you what I want, but you keep saying it's not good enough, I don't understand—"

"It needs to be special, okay? Is it so bad that I want to do something nice for you—"

"It's not bad, I just don't get why you're being so picky about it. Like, isn't doing me a favor enough for you? Isn't this just about paying me back? What is it that you want to do with me exactly?"

"No," Indonesia stressed, feeling like he was about to lose his mind. "I want—"

He paused.

What did he want, exactly?

Philippines just smiled at him, patient and knowing and just the slightest bit sad, and stood. He was carrying his plate, and as he passed by Indonesia he gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. When Indonesia looked up to face him, the other nation's eyes were soft. "I know I've said this to you before, but I'll say it again. I can't know things if you don't actually say it. Alright?"

Then he walked away to the kitchen sink, absentmindedly humming to himself, leaving Indonesia all alone at the table. The words I think I want you died on his lips.

-----

Later, after reflecting during his night bath, Indonesia found himself in a panic.

He wasn't a complete idiot. He's known for a while that Philippines was the only one who could fluster him like no other, but he often chalked that up to the other nation's cheeky character rather than anything else. His attraction to Philippines wasn't surprising either; it was no secret that he liked looking pretty, and to be honest, Indonesia has had worse crushes. But he was also steadily coming to the conclusion that his feelings went deeper than mere infatuation, and he couldn't help but wonder: why fall for the other nation in particular?

Philippines was an ally, someone he had founded and managed ASEAN with in a show of regional strength. Philippines was a friend, someone he had spent countless days with over the years along with all the other people he treasured in his life. Philippines was a stranger, someone who still felt so foreign to him despite everything. He could trace out the curve of his smile in an instant, and at the same time, he didn't have the faintest idea what the other nation was doing in the 1920s. He knew that watching a cheesy romcom was the surest way of brightening up his day, but not the exact nature of what Spain had done to him as a colony. And, for the life of him, he still didn’t understand the slightest bit of how verb conjugation in Tagalog worked — which felt especially embarrassing the day he found out that Philippines had been putting in the effort to learn both Bahasa Indonesia and Bahasa Melayu so he could communicate with the rest of the maritime nations better. He'd understand his own heart easier if he fell for Malaysia or even Netherlands — people who he had shared a deep and culturally signifcant history with in his extremely long life as a nation — but Philippines was, to put it sadly, not like that to him.

And yet, as Indonesia stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, all he could think about was how much happier he looked now compared to his bleak and boring morning.

He changed into the clothes that Philippines had laid out for him on the bed and had a brief thought of just going to sleep for the night. Pramoedya, if he were still alive, would chide him for such cowardice. Indonesia ended up at the other nation's door, nervously trying to build up the courage to knock. But Philippines must have heard his footsteps, as he called out: "I know you're out there! Just come in!"

Just like him, Philippines had already bathed and changed to more casual sleepwear; he was wearing a loose sweater and shorts that showed off his legs. He was sitting upright on his bed, looking amused at whatever he was staring at on his phone screen, and his face broke out into a warm smile when he saw Indonesia hesitantly trudge inside his bedroom. Pien was already sound asleep in a little makeshift bed on the desk.

"Sit here," said Philippines, while he scooted over to give him space. Indonesia gave him a look. "I'm being serious. Just move your arms a bit and—yeah, that's it. Aren't we cozy?"

Now they were both sitting on the bed, with Philippines between his legs and his arms around Philippines' waist. Cozy was certainly a word for it.

"Now you're just teasing me," Indonesia grumbled, but he didn't move away either.

"Me? Tease you?" Philippines fluttered his eyelashes at him. "Why, I'm just a poor tropical nation made to suffer through the unbearably cold Autumn months in the Northern Hemisphere! I'm severely in need of some aid and assistance, but I'm sure you and all your hundred active volcanoes can keep me warm for tonight."

"You're horrible, you know that?" he said, though he was unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. Philippines laughed with him, giddy and gleeful. "You don't know how anxious I was before this. It's not fair that you can just make all that go away so easily."

Philippines leaned back on his chest, smug as a cat. "Call it a gift. By the way, our neighbors want to know how you're doing. Anything you want to say?"

Now that he was right behind the other nation, he could see that his phone was opened to the ASEAN group chat. It seemed like everyone was spamming the chat with pictures of their pets again. Indonesia rested his chin on Philippines' shoulder and said, "I'm doing just fine. Tell them I mean it this time."

If the other nation was flustered, he betrayed no signs of it. He had now moved on to chatting with the other ex-Spanish colonies; they were all talking in Spanish and Indonesia couldn't understand a thing. "I'll tell them when I'm sure it won't get buried by everything else. But, you know, that's really good to hear. My influence, I hope."

Indonesia buried his face in Philippines' neck as an answer.

"So needy," Philippines murmured, who had put his phone down to pat his head. "Perhaps you really were lonely?"

"Not as lonely as you used to be, I think." At this, Philippines stilled. Indonesia tightened his hold on the other nation's slim waist even further, almost afraid that he would drift away. "About that question you asked, earlier at the cafe . . . I don't feel burdened by how great my old empires were. I've felt the pressure to make them proud, but I've never felt like it was a burden. Their legacy is my life and my connections to all of you, you know? I've certainly never felt like it made me lonely.

"And then there's you, and I know it's not the same for you, because you can't even remember — and that's fine, Singapore doesn't really remember much either. But Malaysia remembers enough for the both of them, and then there's me, and I remember the most, but then there's you, and you don't have that."

Here, Indonesia exhales a shaky breath. "Spain took you, and America took you, and Japan took you, and that's four centuries of you just being gone from me. We're neighbors yet we're so different, to the point where we don't share the same language, the same religion, the same food, the same history . . . and you have friends all over the world and you seem so happy all the time, but I don't think I've ever realized how lonely you must feel."

All Philippines did was sigh. "I told you not to pity me."

"I'm not pitying you," said Indonesia. "I'm just sorry."

All this time, he had been so in awe of how Philippines found it so easy to adjust to Westerners and Western culture when he himself found it so difficult. But now, with the realization that the same ability to connect with others may have also translated to an inability to connect with him and the rest of ASEAN, that same awe felt so bitter. How many times had Philippines stood awkwardly to the side when he spoke to Malaysia and Brunei in his native language? Kept worryingly quiet when they were wistfully reminiscing their pre-colonial pasts? Tried to tell a joke to lighten up the mood during a meeting, but because of differences in culture and history, it just fell flat?

Indonesia was startled out of his thoughts with a painful pinch of his cheek.

"Of course you're going to be sorry if you make me sound so depressing," Philippines pouted at him, annoyed.

He sputtered, "What? I mean, I just thought—"

"Do you take me for an idiot, Indonesia?" He pinched Indonesia harder, which made him yelp. "Don't you think I'd be well aware by now of where I stand with all of you? That after sixty years together, I would've realized that I wasn't as involved in your history as everyone else is in maritime, or everyone else with each other in the mainland?"

With a huff, Philippines let him go. Indonesia tried to soothe the sting of it by putting his hand on his cheek. He almost didn't hear the other nation murmur, "Do I seem that pitiful to you?"

"Not pitiful at all," Indonesia scrambled to reassure. Philippines leaned back on his chest, still looking a bit miffed. "I don't know. I just had this sudden thought that maybe we're just a bad reminder of how much Spain and America took away from you. Maybe you're actually uncomfortable with us."

Maybe you're actually uncomfortable with me, he thought, though he kept that to himself.

Philippines simply stared up at him, eyes bright, and said, "Well, if you only realized it today, then maybe you should've considered that it isn't actually a problem."

"You could just be very good at acting like nothing's wrong," Indonesia pointed out.

"Or you can think about this: maybe there really is nothing wrong in the first place," Philippines said, a wry smile growing on his face. "I founded the association with you, you know. Maybe the rest of you were there because of old ties or whatever, but I joined precisely because I wanted to build new ones. I don't really care if I feel awkward sometimes. I'd certainly find it boring if all of you were exactly like me anyway."

The other nation was so carefree about it, but Indonesia still felt conflicted. He admitted, "Maybe the problem is just that I feel awkward. I have no idea how to approach you as a nation."

"So don't approach me as a nation. Approach me as a friend," Philippines said, not unkindly. To get the point across, he put his hands over Indonesia's in a show of comfort. "You're allowed to act outside the interests of who you represent, you know. We're people too."

Indonesia kept quiet. There had been times when he privately felt like Philippines was his exact opposite — a lively, energetic person that focused more on his human side rather than the nation side, and someone whose duties were considerably more worldly than his own: having to regularly travel to dozens of countries to check on the millions of Filipino citizens that were working abroad. Meanwhile, as such a large and diverse country, Indonesia tried his best to ensure that every single one of the people that lived within his borders felt heard. It was difficult sometimes, but it always felt meaningful to him — his people were his essence, and he couldn't let politics force him to forsake them again. Acting for his personal interests felt as foreign to him as leaving his house sometimes. Not that he never took time for himself; he tried, but a lot of the time he had to be convinced to do so. Sometimes Singapore would invite him for another tour around his house, or Malaysia would drag him into some new restaurant where they would inevitably fight over the food. But more often than not, it would be Philippines pushing him and the other Southeast Asian nations out of their shells and setting up parties, taking them to his fiestas, and prodding and annoying all of them until they would finally agree to ASEAN hang-outs like the one at Bali. Indonesia could admit harboring a deep suspicion for the other nation before, thinking that he was more in line with American interests rather than his own, but over the decades that suspicion had faded. Despite all his efforts to the contrary, he had grown on him, and now Indonesia couldn't imagine his life without him anymore.

He didn't know much about the Philippines as a nation, not much more than he needed to be aware of for the sake of diplomacy and the association. Yet as the years went by and he got to know more and become friends with Philippines the person, he discovered someone who was equal parts obnoxious and endearing, foolhardy and clever, petty and proud and unbelievably kind. And as he looked at him now, there was something in the curve of his smile and the light in his eyes that told him that things would be alright if he took things a step further — something that told him that the other nation had been anticipating this for a long, long time. Heart over head and heart over country, it emboldened him to take the leap.

"I don't want to approach you as a friend either," Indonesia murmured, and because he couldn't help himself, he leaned down and kissed him.

Philippines sighed happily into his mouth as he kissed back, warm and blooming under his touch. Their kiss was relatively chaste — Indonesia had seen the other nation make out with others for a drunk dare with more passion than this — yet he couldn't complain. It was sweet and soft and lasted only for a moment, and more than anything, it was a promise: that they can take things slow, and that they had all the time in the world to get to know each other better.

Their foreheads touched, quiet and tender, and Philippines laughed softly. "It's so ridiculous," he said, his eyes filled with mirth, "that I've been waiting for so long for you to realize your feelings, and when the time finally comes that you do, you managed to confess without really confessing at all. Only you, Indonesia."

"I'm shy," he said dryly, and the other nation burst into laughter. "If you wanted a real confession, you probably could've done so yourself."

"Ah, but there's no fun in that! I like the thrill of being chased, you know," Philippines preened, wagging his finger in mock admonishment. Then, more shyly, he admitted, "Besides, if I made a move on you before you were ready, you might've just pushed me away or feel forced to return my feelings even if you didn't. If I waited, at least I could be sure you wanted me too."

"So all those jokes you made before were supposed to be you holding back? How subtle," Indonesia teased, his eyes crinkling. He held the other nation closer, smothering him with small kisses all over until what little sadness on his face disappeared and was replaced with giggles and brightness. He turned Philippines' head to face him properly and said, "I'm scared that I won't know how to balance my duties and my personal life as well as you do, and I'm scared that we'll be too dissimilar to really work out. But until the day that our differences force us apart, I'd be happy to spend my time with you."

Philippines pulled away from him slightly, an oddly vulnerable look in his eyes. "You're sure you really want something with me? That this isn't too far out of your comfort zone?"

"Oh, it's very out of my comfort zone," Indonesia said. "But recently, I've been learning that maybe it isn't so bad, you know. As long as I'm with you."

"As long as I'm with you," Philippines repeated, with a growing smile. "I like the sound of that."

They continued talking well past midnight, at some points laughing so hard and arguing so loud that poor Pien was startled awake by all the noise. And as the other nation reached out and pulled him under the covers so they could hold each other until the morning, he found himself reaching back. They kissed until their lips were red and they got so tangled up in each other until they couldn't distinguish between their own bodies anymore; despite how differently the day turned out from how his usual trips to Europe went, Indonesia swore that the unfamiliar city never felt so much like coming home until that night.

-----

"Where the hell is my sweater," Philippines groused.

"You threw it on the floor last night, it should be under your bedside drawer." Indonesia kissed his forehead and, keenly aware that he was not a morning person, gave him a cup of his precious coffee. He could tell his efforts were appreciated when Philippines greedily gulped down the scalding liquid. "Selamat pagi, sayang."

The other nation only pouted at him. "Don't call me sayang."

"After all the stupid things you've called me through the years? I'll call you however I like, thank you very much," he shrugged. "Besides, I'm not the one who has to leave in a few hours."

Philippines groaned as he pulled his clothes over himself. "This is so stupid. We finally get together and now we have to be separated like this? I mean, I'm really glad and I like you a lot and all, but I really wish you had a better sense of timing right now."

"I think you'll live." Indonesia hid his smile behind his cup. "I mean, you were the one that said you don't mind waiting until November to see me again."

"You just keep making fun of me," Philippines whined, cuddling up to him. Pien had even jumped up to nuzzle his neck, evidently just as clingy as his owner. "Where's the romance, Indonesia? The sweet nothings in my ear? The poems and songs you surely must've written while you pined for my presence? Am I to despair forever, having only been loved by a phantom version of yourself that will never return?"

"You've been watching too many telenovelas," Indonesia said, quickly setting both of their cups somewhere else before they had any accidents. At this, the other nation gasped dramatically and collapsed across his lap. Despite himself, he started chuckling at how ridiculous Philippines was being — really, how could he not find him so endearing?

Then Philippines suddenly turned serious. He stared up at him, his gaze piercing. "If you don't want me to go, I can just make up dumb some excuse again, you know. Just say the word."

Indonesia humored him. "And why wouldn't I want you to go?"

"Because I can't be there for you if you feel alone again," he muttered, expression tense and his mouth downturned in an angry frown. "I just feel bad that I'm leaving you so soon."

Yesterday, he would've been right to be worried. Indonesia probably would've found some roundabout way to say that he'd much rather for Philippines to stay just until he could see him off at the airport later that evening, if only to stave off that achingly empty feeling of waiting to go home and resenting time for moving so slowly. Philippines would have laughed and teased and inevitably posted about the day's events on his Instagram, to which Indonesia would look increasingly more exhausted with each new update, but he nevertheless would have allowed Indonesia to get away with delaying his plans to make him more comfortable.

But as it was, now Indonesia only remembered the way the other nation's eyes had twinkled in excitement when he mentioned Munich, so it was little trouble for him to simply smooth back Philippines' bangs and lightly say, "Actually, I was planning of sightseeing on my own today."

"Oh?" Philippines looked surprised — and pleased. "You are?"

Indonesia couldn't stop himself from flushing in embarrassment. Really, it had only been a passing thought he had after finishing his morning prayers, but . . . "All of you are always going on about how I can't enjoy myself abroad, so. I figured it was time I gave it a try."

Though Philippines probably knew he was still rather uncertain about it, he smiled anyway. "Well, as long as bring your phone this time, alright? I'm always just a text away if you need it."

"And here I thought you'd say some cheesy line about me never truly being alone since you'll always in my heart," Indonesia said, and Philippines was startled into laughter as he sat back up. "Don't worry. I've survived a long, long time without you by my side. I can take a little longer."

Philippines pecked him on the cheek, sweet and domestic. "Not too long, I hope. I can't wait to see the look on Thailand's face when we walk into November's meeting hand in hand. Maybe I should make a vlog about everyone else's surprised reactions."

"Whatever you like, sayang." Indonesia smiled as he stood, his hand reaching out. He pulled Philippines into a kiss — a deep one this time, slow and sensuous and full of all the things he felt too strongly to properly express in words — that left them both breathing heavily by the time they pulled away. Feeling uncharacteristically suave, he whispered, "Though I would prefer it if, in the short time that you're still here, you keep all your focus on me."

"Always, mahal." Philippines smiled back, eyes as bright as ever. "Always."

-----

Notes:

Title comes from the lyrics of How Deep Is Your Love, but specifically, it's a reference to the Christian Bautista cover. Bautista is a Filipino singer, and his cover was very popular in Indonesia a few years ago.

There are a lot of things I've had to simplify and outright ignore for the sake of story, most egregious being the fact that Indonesia actually wouldn't be the sole Southeast Asian nation in a G20 meeting. The chair of ASEAN is a permanent guest invitee, and since the current chair is the Sultan of Brunei, Brunei would probably in the meeting as well. Alas, Brunei isn't canon yet as of this writing. Sorry, Brunei!

Mahal and sayang are both terms of endearment in Tagalog and Bahasa Indonesia respectively, but with a catch! Mahal is a word that also exists in Bahasa Indonesia, but the meaning is "expensive" rather than "love" — in Tagalog you can use the word both ways. Sayang is a word that also exists in Tagalog, but the meaning is "What a waste" or "What a pity" rather than "love" — in Bahasa Indonesia, you can use the word both ways. So essentially, you have Philippines and Indonesia trying to be sweet to each other, but the other interprets it as a weird insult instead. It's really funny and really cute.

More detailed notes and references on my previous Tumblr post here!

[fckwritersblock]

Act 1: While We’re Young

Chapter 5

Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens x Black OC

(Unedited.)

Tuesday

January 10th 2005

Last night was the only night I'm allowing myself to cry over him and his 'return'. What good would it do me? No, I was gonna take Erik and whatever he had to throw at me by storm.

Waking up the next day, I feel refreshed. Like a brand new person with a more positive mindset. Today I had 3 classes and I'm determined to have a good Erik free day.

That whole Erik free thing went out the window as soon as I got to my first class.

Double O Computer Programming 1 was a junior class, however I'd taken it during the summer during my first year at UC Berkeley. DOCP 2 wouldn't be available until next semester but I needed to have a class since this was my first year on the actual campus. Thankfully Miss Hill really needed a T.A and the fact that I could help with an algorithm that tied into thermal nuclear astrophysics had her sold.

Right after I finished taking attendance, she barely got a word out before the door swung open revealing Erik as our late comer. I quickly glanced at the sheet in front of me, scanning for his name. I was so use to calling him N’dajaka when we were kids, I completely skipped over ‘Erik Stevens’. I huffed rolling my eyes, arms crossed over my chest. His timbs were the only thing heard shuffling across the room making hid way toward the front of the class. Wordlessly he handed Miss Hill before his eyes were on me. They scanned me from top to bottom, before locking with me a smug grin on his lips.

"Hey Lona," my jaw dropped.

Before I could get out a word, Miss Hill opened her mouth, looking up from the paper he handed her.

"Welcome Erik, sorry for the confusion."

"It's all good," he shrugged.

"Im Miss Hill, and I see you already know my aid. As I explained to the class prior to taking attendance, If I'm unavailable feel free to email or call her during the hours listed on the sheet." She is then took a sheet from me and handed him to me. "Other than that, find a seat."

He nodded pretending look over the sheet before averting his gaze back on me.

"I'm definitely gon do that."

Fuck my life right?

Well, Erik just so happened to be in the Calculus class I skipped two days ago. I thank God my record was squeaky clean and Mr. Kennedy accepted my poor excuse before I was quickly reminded the man upstairs has a sense of humor as the only available seat was next to Erik.

"The person next to you will be your partner for the remainder of the semester so let's take the next 15 minutes getting know one another hmm?." Mr. Kennedy instructed.

I couldn't suppress the groan that slipped as Erik casually leaned back in his chair, examining me.

"You heard the man, get to know me."

"I know all I need this know about you Erik."

"Oh so I'm Erik now? Like that?" He spoke cool, calm, and collected like our exchanged was normal.

I gripped my pencils tight, my knee bouncing up and down my body tense.

"Let me set things straight now. We don't need to talk to one another. If it doesn't have anything to do with any of the classes we take together, don't want to hear it. When you see me act like you don't know me. We clear?"

The expression on his face was unreadable before his lip twitched slight him responding.

"Crystal."

Wednesday

January 24th, 2005

It had been two weeks since Erik showed up here.

Ok that's a lie.

Apparently this man has been here. And to top it off, this mans name was in every bitch mouth like the second coming of Jesus Christ. From what I've observed though, he doesn't say much, or gives any of these broads much attention. He don't say much in general actually, he's really good at blending in. He got that laid back, mysterious, bad boy vibe going for him and these females out here hella into that.

But when he opens his mouth, that cocky bastard sure knows how to disrupt my entire soul at least while we're in class.

Outside of class though, he acts like I'm invisible.

It was like he never knew me. And honestly, I don't know how to feel about it. I know that's what I said I wanted but it bothers me just the same.

Today in particular though, he argued me down during our Calculus class. We had one problem to figure out before we could leave class today. You and your partner were supposed agree on the answer, and heaven forbid he just agree with me so we can get out of here. Math was always my subject when we were kids, nothing has changed. I was damn near about to say fuck it when he started laughing.

What in the entire fuck it so funny?" I was fuming.

"You," he shook his head. "You really hella mad."

"Um, YES!" I damn near shouted fed up. "You literally been tryna convince me it's 5 when it's-"

"Chill. I know the answer is 3 girl. C'mon, let's go." So smoothly he closed the book, grabbed his bag and headed to the front.

I was so upset, I had to let him do all the talking when it came to explain to the teacher I'll answer and how we got there. I know I open my mouth I wasn't going to say anything nice.

"Girl what crawled up your ass and died?" Donise questioned with a stank look as we sat at one of the benches outside of the library.

"Yeah What did Erik do now," I could hear teasing in Tatiana's tone so I flipped her off.

Only giving a brief explanation, I went on a mini rant about what happened in class 20 minutes ago. Donise's thought it was funny, while Tati just shook her head.

"I still can't believe it him," Tatianna glanced as a group of guys from across the quad headed our way, Erik included.

"Yes, and I wish it wasn't."

Tatianna was the first real friend I made in a while. I was actually tutoring her online for a while before she found out I was 4 years younger than her. Our friendship started off as a trade. I was her tutor and she both convinced and enrolled in a mentor program to help me with my social skills. I didn't speak to anyone much when Erik left, but I got into a lot of fights. According to the school counselor I was taking out my anger and abandonment issues on.I have meds to tame the anger, and while I haven't had to take them in a while Eric definitely bring that anger out of me.

"Girl that's just sexual tension. You got to fuck all that out." Ashley put in her unwanted two cents.

"Trust me when I tell you on God it isn't."

"Well if you out to holla, then trust and believe I will." She tossed her hair over her shoulder

I didn't really mess with Ashley like that, but she was Tati's frat sister which made them 'friends'. That little thot pocket will screw anything with legs, D, and a pulse and I'm not bout that life. Plus she messy as fuck and I don't trust her as far as I can throw her.

"I don't doubt it," I smirked as Donise said exactly what I was thinking.

Donise was coo' though, I meet her when I first got here 2 months ago. Believe It or not she was apart of the welcome comity for MIT and turned out her and Tatiana were already friends. Once she figured out  who I was, I was shot to the front line during registration and everything.

"Anyways, y'all going Ant and them party tomorrow?" Ashley questioned probably tryna bum a ride.

"What party?"

"The Que's," Donise answered. "The dudes with Erik are frat."

Now this was news to me. I met most of them before but I had no idea there were in a sorority. Examining them, I guess it all made sense. Most in the clique sported some sort of purple and yellow lanyard either around their neck or on their keychain that hung from their jean pocket as if  they wanted everybody to know who they were. Which I wouldn't doubt.

"Ladies! What we chattin about?" Moses questions every bit of his thick English accent tapering off every word.

"Our plans for mañana," Tati answered l

"Word. Y'all coming to the party tomorrow?" Jay spoke playing with a few strands of Donise's curls.

"Tomorrow? It's Thursday." I said confused. "Ain't there class the next day?"

"What's the matter, you can't hang?" I glared at Jay, knowing he was only chastising me because him and Erik were close, according to Tati.

I swear to God men gossip more than women do. Rolling my eyes I spared Erik a glance and he looked like he was waiting on me to respond.

"Oh, I can definitely hang."

I couldn't hang.

Around midnight I was  in the bathroom throwing up everything, damn near hug in the toilet as my surrounding looks so blurry and I can barely function. Im not sure when I'd finally finished, but I could feel someone picks me up and out the bathroom and soon everything goes blurry and then black.

Tag list: @kitesatforestp @xsweetdellzx @justgetitoverwith0 @letsshamelessqueen-m @cmkcolove @readingaddict1290

[gojoyogurt]

Jujutsu Kaisen Christmas!!

jjk headcanon!

characters: every character introduced in the anime so far! and you of course hehe

plot: everyone is invited to jujutsu tech for a christmas party, including the unidentified special grade curses that have the ability to talk but... ITS CHRISTMAS.

as you guys were preparing for the party in the function room, panda kept trying to eat all the snacks so nobara had kept trying to hold him back (to no avail because she eventually got crushed underneath him)

gojo... was nowhere to be found OBVIOUSLY and the curses gang were just chilling outside. you were lowkey praying that jogo wouldnt set anything on fire before the party even started.

megumi was just hanging around with itadori and junpei, playing with his gyokuken (divine dogs) [honestly wouldnt that just be so cute]

you, maki-san and mai-san were busy setting up everything and also having small chit chats here and there.

since gojo wasnt there yet, ijichi-san was everywhere, both panicking and pissed since gojo was NEVER on time no matter what the event was.

nanami couldnt be bothered anymore to settle the situation so he was quietly reading at one corner.

inumaki was just vibing to the christmas music playing in the background with panda after wrestling with nobara.

before the party started, a very popular christmas song that was trending on vikvok started playing, being the great senpai he is, todo dragged itadori to the middle of the room to start dancing with him alongside inumaki and panda.

it was already around 7.30pm and gojo wasnt there yet so yall just decided to start without him to not waste anytime

everyone gathered around the table that had food on it, “LETS EAT IM STARVING” jogo suddenly screamed in the room with his fire coming out of almost every hole in his head.

“now now, jogo, be patient.” mahito calmly cooled down jogo to prevent the fire hazard from creating havoc during the party.

“who thought it was a good idea to invite the curses here...” megumi sighed as he shot eye darts at junpei, which junpei completely avoided.

“c’mon!, the more the merrier!” you said as you thought that they really shouldn’t have come, but it was all the make junpei happy so...

as the party started, everyone was just going around getting food. everything was smooth sailing until... itadori suddenly spreads cake icing over megumi... yeah megumi was both pissed and confused at the same time so he chased itadori around the table. itadori was laughing his ass off while he had a raging megumi chasing after him. thankfully the food was fine so all is good so far.

after about AN HOUR, gojo finally shows up. “hey guys! what did i miss?” gojo said cheerfully. however, a dark ominous shadow appeared behind him and whacked his head so hard it made the whole room go silent.

“not even an apology?” nanami reprimanded gojo while staring down at him.

since an hour has passed, it was already time for the next thing on the agenda so gojo didnt even have time to eat the moment he arrived, he was okay nonetheless.

Game time!

the first game was something like blinfold elimination? im not too sure about the name. the way to play is:

two members of the team are blindfolded and is waiting outside a ring that has balls scattered everywhere

in order to win, the two blindfolded team members have to eliminate the other teams blindfolded members by finding a ball and throwing it at them

however, since they cannot take of their blindfold, the remaining team members will have to guide them to find the balls and help them to tell them roughly where and when they should throw the ball.

the non-blindfolded team members are not allowed to throw the balls and use their cursed energy.

the rules were fairly simple so yall split yourselves into 4 teams.

the 8 blindfolded people were itadori and inumaki, panda and aoi, mahito and mai, nanami (he was dragged into it) and nobara.

you were on mahito and mai’s team so you decided to just guide mai along since you were a lottle uncomfortable with mahito. jogo was there for him anyways and they make a better team.

gojo started the game by screaming and suddenly the room was filled with desperate screams to get the ball.

balls were flying everywhere and people were already crying of laughter because of the scene.

itadori kept scurrying along the floor like an insect which made everyone laugh but he couldn’t be hit no matter what.

as time passed by, more and more people got eliminated, including mai-san and the only people left were nanami and mahito. (oooo the matchup)

the rest were frantically screaming everywhere that they should go and throw in a certain direction.

it felt so tense yet so fun at the same time so it was pretty enjoyable to watch.

finally nanami hit mahito with the ball and the game was over. “good game, jujutsu sorcerer” mahito said in defeat while shaking his hand. “i only do what im supposed to” nanami nonchalantly replied as both enemies walked away from each other

the game took WAY longer than expected so it was time for the exchange gifts!

Exchange Gift time!!

yayy its exchange gift timee.

everyone gathered together and sat in a circle in the large empty space of the room with their gifts in hand.

“okay! lets all pass around the gifts until the music stops!” you announced as you started the music.

all the gifts were just travelling everywhere in very different directions including across the room.

you stopped the music and everyone made sure that they each had a gift in hand.

all of you took turns opening up the gifts and there were actually some pretty funny ones. by a huge coincidence itadori got a sukuna finger cake that was made by mai-san. it didnt look the best but.... hey the effort counts.

you opened up your gift and you found a keychain of megumis divine dogs. you guessed that it was from him and to no surprise it was. you found it so cute you immediately attached it onto your bag.

after opening your gift you proceeded to just watch the others open theirs. some of them were quite ridiculous as mahito got a hanger and jogo got a can opener.

it soon came down to the last person nanami so he opened up his gift slowly, he tore one side open, peeked inside, and immediately closed it. “whoever bought this gift must be very childish...” he said in disappointment

itadori ran towards him and ripped open the present and realised, it was a maids outfit.

everyone burst into laughter just imagining nanami in a maids outfit. “h-hey! who gave him that HAHAHAHA” itadori asked as he was rolling on the floor with his hands over his stomach.

gojo slowly raised his hand up and was already at the door, ready to escape.

nanami slowly rised, “please excuse me” he said calmly and he bolted out the door to chase gojo

that sight made everyone laigh even more until they had no more energy to laugh.

by the time they returned with gojo semi beat up, everyone was so out of energy and just lying down on the floor while listening to christmas music play in the background.

“should we pack up now? its also quite late” panda asked and everyone nodded in agreement.

everyone helped to pack up the remaining food and clean up the place before leaving.

once the whole place was clean, everyone siad their goodbyes and left in different directions.

andd there it is! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! hope you guys enjoyed this and i also hope you have a fun time with your families today! hopefully you get the gifts you want too HAHA. i may or may not post on new year’s but ill try if i can. ill be quite busy starting 2021 since thats when school starts, ew, but ill still try my best to post every now and then so please forgive me if im inactive! anywho, besides all that, please stay safe and have a merry christmas and a happy new year yalls! see you guys soon!!

[themockingcrows]

Doki Doki Grist Panic! Ch. 1

pairing: John/Dave Characters: John Egbert, Dave Strider, Bro Strider cw: Canon Typical Violence, magical boys, more tags to be added as needed

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802735/chapters/68066416

The life of a magical boy is a tough one, but Dave doesn't really have much of a choice in the matter. It's the fate he was handed, and the fate he'll cope with. With new enemies spawning in his city left and right, Dave has his hands full trying to maintain the peace and little time for much else. That is, until the cute boy he rescued turns up in his college class and seems to share all of his interests. Is love on the horizon? Or is love too much to hope for in this line of work?

     There were nearly too many to count by the time Dave arrived on the scene, dark creatures that looked like they were born from an oil slick, their shoulders and head decked with odd looking colorful scraps of fabric collars and hats. Most of the people had fled the area when the hungry beasts had turned up, but a few victims had been downed by the creatures, their bodies lying limp surrounded by bright colorful gems of energy in a rainbow of colors.

     Grist. It was the energy of this planet, the energy that powered every living thing, and as such it was a tasty target for most enemies from beyond the asteroid belt who wanted a quick powerup. Dave had run into plenty of creatures before, both from home and from beyond, who were a threat to the populace, but he’d never seen beings act this efficiently before.

     Everywhere the creatures jumped they left behind an oily mess, even soiling the grist their greedy hands reached for, wanting to throw the delicate candy looking items into their mouths. Were they just going to eat them to further their own power? Or were they eating them to transport them? It didn’t matter. They weren’t going to get far. Dave was planning on doing a silent takedown, a sneak attack, but he realized there was a risk. A lone person was standing in the midst of the carnage, dark hair and tanned skin stark against a blue sweater the color of the crisp autumn sky itself and a bright white shirt collar.

     He had to get them safe, before they fell to the same fate as the scattered bodies.

     Right. Showy it was, then.

     “STOP RIGHT THERE,” Dave cried, bounding out of cover and out into view in a flash of red. His black and white knee high boots, black buttons shining on the side, clicked on the concrete as he landed safely from the larger than life jump he’d performed. The black leggings he wore beneath the red, gear pattern edged tunic were pristine from the recent transformation, the same material coating his arms and chest like a second skin. The dark red cape he wore fluttered in the wind, hood down and back, white hair windswept. It was quite the impressive appearance, all things considered.

     “Wh-what?” said the soon to be victim. His eyes were pretty to look at behind the thick glasses he wore, black frames perched on his nose. He didn’t look nearly as terrified as he should have, but then again shock can do a lot to a person.

     “Get to cover!” Dave barked, a gloved hand pointing to the clear area he’d come from. As planned, the creatures focused on him, pausing in their gorey gathering ritual to flock his direction. Another flash of red, the afterimage of a slowly ticking gear hanging behind him for a moment and Dave had summoned his weapon of choice, a long silvery blade with a gilt crossguard, broadsword firm and true. He bounced on the balls of his feet for a moment, hyping himself up as he shifted his grip, before pointing the sword at the incoming beasts.

     “You will not best me. I am a warrior of Earth and you’re not gonna get in my way!” he shouted.

     Time slowed around him briefly, the clock gear flashing in the air behind him as he darted forwards, giving him enough speed and delay to get in the heavy strikes he needed against the inky interlopers. Their bodies felt solid at first hit, but when they collapsed it was into grist and oil slick once more. Darting around this way, the creatures slower than usual, gave him an upper hand that was in some ways criminal. They were low tier creatures judging from their density alone and the lack of a fight they put up, but their numbers were still worrisome to Dave. He was panting by the time he finished the slicing and dicing, black gunk coated grist littering the ground behind him.

     He held the sword as he caught his breath before slowly straightening, loosening his grip on it and willing it back from where it had been summoned. The released grist was slowly beginning to move, rolling and bouncing back towards the limp bodies they had come from. With luck, they’d wake up soon. No doubt the police would be coming shortly, ambulance in tow, if only from the amount of people that had run away in terror.

     Right, where was- Oh. Good, there he was. The fellow from before, mister blue sweater, seemed fine and dandy. A little wide eyed in shock now, but who could blame him? It wasn’t often that Dave had to make appearances where people could see him. It was far, far easier being a magical boy out of view of the populace, guarding people from a distance, not having to deal with aftermath even if he was capable of making quick escapes unseen. Mister blue sweater might have been hit if he hadn’t exposed himself as he had.

     Actually, speaking of-

     “What’s your name?” Dave asked as he clicked his way closer to the bystander’s side, glancing him over. No sign of damage. A little oil on his shoes, when he looked closer, but otherwise unharmed. Good.

     “John,” said the black haired fellow. “Who are..?”

     Dave smiled a bit, reaching a gloved hand up to flick his bangs away from his face. “Doesn’t matter who I am. John, you got really lucky. Do me a favor: when the cops get here, make sure that the people who are still asleep get help. They should wake up soon, but some might be feeling sick for a while after this. Grist doesn’t always redistribute evenly, when there’s a lot scattered like that.” Pain in the neck, really, but what could anyone do? Somehow have an inventory of how much grist people had at the moment of attack then inventory reclaimed grist and distribute it evenly? Impossible.

     He smiled then, blue eyes crinkling at the edges, and showed buck teeth that were actually pretty charming when taken in with the rest of the whole. The upside of this duty Dave had, this burden in some lights, was that he got to see all kinds of people. Even the really cute ones. Charmed, but needing to beat feet, Dave smirked and turned around, making a series of difficult leaps to reach the top of the buildings before speeding away, flash stepping out of sight and allowing the magic to slowly fade. There were no more feelings of intense wrong, nothing on his internal radar nearby, at least for the night. Safety had returned. Time to relax.

     By the time Dave was closer to home, his hair had changed back to blonde from the stark white it had been during the fight, and the uniform had returned to the clothing he’d been wearing before the change, a simple t-shirt and some jeans with rips in the knees, sunglasses, high top sneakers and a chain wallet, his keys with the stupid heart keychain Dirk had given him that he’d never bothered to get rid of. He made his way up the long sets of stairs before unlocking the door with his key, waving to his Bro where he sat on the futon in front of the television, playing a video game.

     “Hey.”

     “Hey,” he heard back, ignoring the sound of familiar game music in favor of carefully raiding the fridge for something to eat. “Very big of a mess this time?”

     “Nah. Nothing I can’t handle,” Dave said, settling on a bottle of juice. Instant ramen sounded better than the leftovers that were available, even if it was mostly salt and carbs. He was tired and needed something hot. “Y’know, if you thought it might be a big mess you could’ve at least bothered to cook.”

     “You’re a big boy, you can handle it,” Bro said casually. “When I used to run around on the beat, I-”

     “Flew uphill both ways in the snow,” Dave said flatly, annoyed, but breaking his noodles into a bowl and adding water and the powder before slapping it into the microwave to cook.

     “No, I was gonna say I didn’t have anyone to run me a bath and cook me stuff, I was on my own. If I could do it, you can do it. Who knows when I won’t be here to help back you up anyway?”

     “Back me up?” Dave said, brows lifting over his shades. “You can’t back shit up when it comes to some of these things!”

     “Please, Dave. I might not be magic anymore, but I still know how the fuck to fight some monsters.”

     “If anyone could back me up against monsters, it’d be Dirk, but he’s off bein’ a prettyboy ninja stud fuck knows where. You need magic to beat this shit, or at least the shit that’s turned up in the last few years. You know that. You knew that before you gave everything up an-”

     Bro was quiet for a moment before he paused his game and sighed, leaning back against the futon, interrupting Dave’s train of words. “Yeah, yeah, I know. C’mon, man, at least let me pretend I’d be useful to your ass beyond fightin’ practice.”

     “I don’t need fighting practice! You always wanna use katanas, I use a broadsword! A broadsword!” Dave said, looking to the microwave when it beeped before aggressively popping it open. He grabbed a fork and his hot noodles before heading for the hallway. “I’m gonna go eat, shout if you need me. Or text, or whatever.”

     Bro frowned, but let Dave go without a word. Not that he could really say much. He knew how much stress Dave was under, knew he could probably help in some ways that would matter a lot, but knowing there was no way to gauge how much longer he’d even be around to begin with, it made it hard to know when to try being close and when to push further away.

     Probably better to just keep things at arms length like they had been for a few years now, make it easier for them both. The last thing Bro wanted to do was become a source of weakness for Dave, after all.

     It was the least he’d be able to do.

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  - -

      The last face Dave expected to see on Monday was a familiar one. Amidst the chatter of his classmates filling the lecture hall, Dave spotted messy dark hair and shining blue eyes, black glasses with thick square lenses. When he spoke, when he grinned at someone, he saw the buck teeth that had finalized the squirm in his stomach on the weekend. It was still early enough in the semester that students were dropping and adding classes left and right, so it wasn’t unthinkable that there’d be another handful of new faces in the class for a while. The fact it was this one, though, was surprising. More surprising still was the eventual way the tall guy made his way towards the back, towards Dave’s table, and pointed at the seat beside him.

     “That open? Everyone else has their bags on their chairs, I guess they’re saving them for someone else,” he said.

     More like trying to deter randos from sitting beside them, Dave thought, realizing he’d forgotten to do the exact same thing. Whoops. Oh well, not the worst person in the world to want to sit beside him and listen to the professor prattle on up in front of the lecture hall.

     “Yeah, it’s open,” said Dave after a moment of processing that… shit this guy was pretty fucking cute up close. Sounded nice too, when he wasn’t high off adrenaline. He kicked his backpack further under the tabletop and glanced down at his laptop, making sure he wasn’t on anything embarrassing without realizing it. Nope, youtube and a flash game till the class started (and for during class if the guy went off topic and wouldn’t get back to the relevant things for class, as was this Professor’s apparent specialty).

     “My name’s John,” offered messy hair as he sat down. “What’s yours?”

     His name didn’t matter.

     “Dave,” he said, grinning a bit. “Nice to meet you, John.”

     “Oh man, you’re subscribed to them too?” he asked suddenly, pointing to the screen. “I’ve been watching their Lets Plays for years, it’s kinda amazing how much they break the games they play. And it’s neat to see two girls running a channel that big, normally it’s guys as far as the eye can see.”

     “Yeah? I feel ya,” Dave said, glancing to the screen again and clicking to pause. Rose was in the process of executing a risky near game breaking glitch that would speed them towards the ultimate weapon of the game, while Jade was explaining the process and the details, as well as the history of the game itself, and giving real life comparisons to the events and reality. He’d seen this episode at least a half dozen times, but the duo were charming as hell and really knew their shit. Cut throat and cut throat, and yet entertaining and casual. “Space Needle is kind of a weird name for a channel though. Isn’t that a landmark somewhere?”

     “I know, but have you heard Jade go on about space and technology before?”

     “Oh yeah, her science corner,” Dave mused. Shit, this guy really was a fan. ...Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad being distracted by him after all, they’d managed to break the ice without even a second thought.

     The professor had finally made his way into the classroom, however, and Dave nodded his direction to John, who hurriedly dug into his bag for his own laptop. Right, time to focus now. They could geek out later. Dave didn’t miss the Space Needle sticker on the back, along with an impressive amount of other insignia that Dave could only guess at. Dude seemed into pop culture to a wicked degree, there were even memes on display, up to date ones too.

     They were hard cut to focus though, finding it much more fun to whisper back and forth about their favorite episodes, their favorite quotes, in jokes and memes. John apparently had started watching fairly recently but was already die hard, and was living for Dave’s deeper lore on the channel. The whispering only stopped when the professor focused enough to catch them, calling for quiet in the back. They exchanged guilty smirks and went back to actually focusing, taking notes from the display and trying to decipher what would be most important from what was being said to note down as well.

     When the class ended, it was back to business as they packed up and headed out, deciding to hit the cafeteria for more conversation and a snack before they had to go their separate ways. Dave’s eventual regretful time to leave came all too soon after he’d finished some fries, and he was surprised  when John handed over not only his discord information, but his phone number on a scrap napkin. His handwriting was messy but clear, and on his way to his next destination Dave took care to gently set it into his bag for later.

     He’d gotten a cute guys details without even asking. Discord was one thing, but his phone number? Holy shit. The fact that it’d be difficult to remain casual with him was going to be the next task at hand, what with his duties and all, but Dave had confidence he’d manage it.

     He could handle saving the world. Of course he could handle a cute guy at the same time.

     Somehow.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

     Somehow seemed a lot further away when Dave was busy. A lot less possible. How could he juggle a friendship casually, much less with a really cute guy, while dealing with shit like this every other day? Another attack had laid low several people, with the creatures showing they could reproduce with enough of the inky substance on the ground. Someone had unleashed another flow of them, but this time they seemed prepared to fight back.

     They had sharp claws that cut at the fabric of Dave’s cape, and his usual speed didn’t seem enough for dealing with them with such a heavy weapon. He vaguely wished he had the skills to use a katana like Dirk or Bro properly, one handed and speedy as sound itself, but alas. His mantle was the royal deringer and no less. Fate seemed to think he could handle a broadsword, so a broadsword he was dealt.

     When a group of the imps managed to knock him over, sending him flying into the air and then skidding along the ground till he came to a halt, Dave knew he’d need to change tactics. Slowly getting up onto his scuffed white boots once more, Dave began to circle the creatures, biding his time and waiting till he could strike properly. They were mindless before, but this time they seemed to be working as a team, occasionally using each other as weapons or sending projectiles made of sludgy oil Dave’s direction. He’d dodge, dance backwards, flash step sideways to avoid. He needed to act quickly, though. It appeared as though there was potentially a way for them to combine themselves, to become even larger. Deadlier. Finally though, they left themselves open.

     Gritting his teeth, Dave felt the surge in his blood as the gears activated in the air behind him, flashing brightly as they turned. He flash stepped forwards and angled his blade, slicing clean through four in a go before flash stepping another direction and backstabbing another. He bounced about this way for a good thirty seconds of real time, dodging slightly slowed attacks and striking what he hoped were key points of these taller, more deadly imps. Grist showered the ground with the falling oil, a slow motion wave that only grew in intensity as he finally shouted and beheaded the final creature and came to a knee to catch his breath.

     His arms burnt, his back ached, and the ticking throb in his head only seemed to get more and more intense as the gears slowed and finally disappeared following his strife. He was coated in oil, and was thankful he didn’t need to worry about cleaning and detailing his weapon as he sent it back where it had come from, let alone cleaning himself or his uniform. He ran a hand through oily white hair and grimaced, looking at the fallen grist, the fallen people, and shook his head.

     A repeat attack so soon, escalating no less, meant that this foe wasn’t just another one and done mission. Something felt… wrong. Intensely wrong, really. Dave couldn’t put his finger on it, but his instincts were telling him to be wary of the situation.

     With the sound of sirens on the horizon, Dave bolted from the scene, taking to the building tops with some parkour and extreme jumps, flash stepping some distances and simply taking cover for others till he could return to the ground in a desolate area. Away went the magic, a gear appearing overhead and quickly whipping over him to the ground, returning him to his normal clothes.

     If only it could take away the fatigue, too.

     And the sense of loneliness that cropped up not long after as he was walking back to where he’d ditched his backpack originally tonight, passing by a gaggle of people out having fun, unaware of the danger that lurked around them. Unaware of just how great they had it, being able to go to the movies with friends whenever they wanted to instead of forever being on call.

     Would he be like that someday, somehow? Find a way to get peace for extended periods, or peace everlasting? Not eternally being on call? Or would he be like Bro, powerless and essentially alone, traumatized and waiting for his timer to tick down. ...No. He’d never be like Bro, probably. Bro had given everything up for him. It was his fault he was-

     A chirp from Dave’s phone alerted him that he was near his bag, and just in time to boot. He rummaged in the pocket to dig it out, and blinked at the screen.

     John. 

     That’s right… He had a friend now. ...Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. He actually smiled as he lit the screen up and tapped out a reply, shouldering his bag before heading home. It was more discussion of Space Needle, which was a welcome distraction from how Dave felt, and how his thoughts had begun turning.

ectoBiologist:  so like i was saying, i just heard about their next lets play and i’m freaking out a bit! turntechGodhead:  yeah?? whats planned ectoBiologist:  they’re going to cover SBURB! can you believe it?turntechGodhead:  sburb huh turntechGodhead:  seems their style i guess turntechGodhead:  didnt it get kinda mid reviews though ectoBiologist:  some people rated it sub par but i don’t care, i think it sounds great. ectoBiologist:  i don’t know what would be better, if it was a great game or if it was a spectacular piece of shit they can tear apart on screen. turntechGodhead:   think theyll stream any of it ectoBiologist:  oh shit i hope so!

     The banter carried Dave all the way home, up the familiar stairs, and into the apartment where he was surprised to smell food cooking. The room was warm from the stove and oven being on, catching Dave out of the conversation and into reality once more, freezing and lifting a brow.

     “Okay, what’s happenin’, you don’t cook.”

     Bro, sprawled out on the futon again with his long legs crossed, smirked from beneath the brim of his hat.

     “Excuse the fuck outta you, I do too. It’s just been a goddamn long time.”

     “Okay, you don’t cook for me though,” Dave clarified, setting his bag down.

     “Who said it’s for you?”

     “...”

     “I’m fuckin’ with you. There’s a casserole in the oven and some sides on the stove. Eat up.”

     “I need a shower first,” Dave said, remembering all too well the feeling of oil in his hair, oil hitting his face, the bittersweet smell of the inky sludge. After warning John he was going offline for a bit, Dave dropped his bag in his room and went to clean himself up. It’d be the first night in a long while he felt secure, comfortable, warm, clean, AND full all at once.

     There were worse ways to spend an evening than falling asleep on his phone after too much supper. Though, right then, Dave couldn’t really think of any. All he could think about was the cute boy on the other end of the discord handle, his favorite gamers prepping for a new title they could experience at the same time, and the lulling comfort of sleep seeping into his bones.

[sebinvld]

“dark side, i search for your dark side, but what if i’m alright right here? i cut off my nose just to spite my face, then i hate my reflection for years & years.”

tl;dr:  sebin puts his feelings on paper. featuring:  @taevld​, @vldgeonwoo​, @ryunhovld​, @vldhyunjun​. wc:  1,953.

the simple truth: sebin is an inconvenience.

it isn’t something that very many people have outright told him, but it’s a conclusion that he can easily come to on his own. his impulsive actions and persistent enmity always come back around to hurt not only him, but those closest to him, too; he has a hard time controlling himself, and because of it, everyone suffers. 

and someone who makes others suffer definitely isn’t convenient to have around.

but as self-aware as sebin is, the awareness isn’t enough to silence the monster that makes apologizing so hard — pride. to apologize means to admit that you’ve done something wrong, and to admit that you’ve done wrong means that you’ll have to try to be better. sebin doesn’t want to try. maybe he would’ve wanted to try years ago, but not now. he’s grown into his sardonic persona; it’s comfortable for him, safe.

unfortunately, comfort doesn’t erase guilt, and sebin is just as susceptible to guilt as anyone else is. it’s because he tries to mute the guilt that it stings so intensely; especially late at night, when he’s trying to sleep. it becomes an acid that eats away his insides, making him feel rotten and empty.

it’s the reason why he’s still awake right now: the digital clock on his desk tells him that it’s a little after 4am, and he knows that he shouldn’t be awake. his body knows it, too, because his eyes keep closing in somnolence. but he refuses to give in because for the first time in years, he’s attempting to do something that’s never been easy for him: express his feelings.

he’s been trying for hours now, and all he has to show for it is a trashbin full of crumpled pages, ink stains on the side of his left hand, and one lousy phrase.

                    FOR HYUNJUN.

he had thought that this would be easy. starting out small. the members of danger are far from being the only people he’s ever done wrong, and admittedly, he hasn’t been half as cruel to them as he’s been to some others, so he doesn’t have near as many things to apologize for. but maybe it isn’t even the apologies that are making this so hard. he doesn’t want to leave it at just apologies, he wants to show his gratitude for them, too, and that’s something that might be even harder for him than apologizing.

he isn’t sure why.

if you care about someone, you should let them know before it’s too late, and sebin constantly feels like he’s running out of time. not because of any real time constraints, considering how many years of their lives they’ll be spending together and have already spent together, but because he has a tendency to push his luck, and no one has a bottomless well of patience.

the sun doesn’t have patience either, and sebin knows that if he doesn’t get these letters written soon, the daylight will steal his time and he’ll never get them written at all. so, he puts his pen down to crack his knuckles, picks it back up, and then starts writing again.

                    FOR HYUNJUN.

the most dedicated person i know.

i’m sorry for making fun of your anime collection. i know that part of friendship is making fun of each other, but i always go too far, and i don’t really know why i do that. i don’t really want to hurt your feelings, but it seems like that’s what i aim for, huh? i’m going to try to stop doing that.

i think it’s really cool that you’re so dedicated to it. you must be really passionate about it, and i can’t even imagine what it’s like to be so into something. maybe that’s why i feel obligated to make fun of you for it. because i don’t know what it’s like.

anyway, i’d like it if you could send me a list of animes to watch. i can’t promise that i’ll actually watch them, but i’ll give it a shot. maybe then we can have something to talk about.

i know it’s been years now, but i don’t think i’ve ever apologized for the way that i treated you when we first met and the way that i still am sometimes. i’m sorry.

you’re a very warm person, hyunjun. i respect you a lot, even though it doesn’t always seem like it. i’m glad to spend my youth with someone like you.

one letter written. it’s brief, but it says everything that sebin wants to say—everything he can think of in the moment, at least—and besides, it’s better than the blank page that he’d had before. if he thinks of anything else that he wants to say later on, it’s not like he can’t write another letter.

he opens the left drawer of the desk, grabbing a roll of tape and the kakao friends keychains he’d bought. they aren’t anything special, but he hadn’t wanted to spend a lot of money on a plan that he might not even follow through with. plus, even though they had been cheap, they do all remind sebin of his members, in some way or another.

he folds up the letter and attaches it to the keychain of ryan with a piece of tape, then rips another piece of paper from his notebook and begins the next letter.

                    FOR TAEWOO.

the most patient person i know.

your patience used to irritate me, to be honest. but i’m sure you know that already. but i’ve grown to respect it a lot.

i wasn’t always kind to you, and i’m still not. i’m sorry for all of the times that i’ve lashed out. i’m sorry for all of the times that i’ve made you feel annoying. you aren’t annoying!!! read that, and then read it again. lock it into your brain. i know how terrible it is to feel annoying, and i want you to know that you aren’t.

thank you for being kind to me when i don’t deserve it and thank you for believing in me when i find it hard to believe in myself. you’ve made the past few years so much easier than they would’ve otherwise been. i could never thank you enough for that.

oh, and thank you for making me laugh. they say laughter is the best medicine, so i feel pretty lucky to have you around.

i think you might be the nicest person i know. i admire your kindness and i hope that i can learn from it in time. the idea of debuting doesn’t seem so terrible since it’s with someone like you.

the second letter is finished and for a second, sebin lets himself feel happy about it. but then he glances towards the window and sees the sky changing from black into medium blue — the sun is beginning to rise. he guesses that he could skip his morning run to finish the letters, but he doesn’t want to. sighing, he grabs the keychain of tube and quickly attaches the folded up letter to it.

immediately, he has his pen in his hand again and he’s writing—trying to, at least, but he finds that all of a sudden, it doesn’t want to write. he scribbles harshly in the upper corner of the paper, to no avail. he’s just about to search for another pen when he realizes the cap is on it. that’s the only reason it hasn’t been writing. “fucking idiot,” he mutters passively, removing the cap.

                    FOR RYUNHO.

the funniest person i know.

i just want to say thank you for every single night you’ve ever spent with me. i love our convenience store trips, late night adventures and ridiculous conversations more than you could ever know.

before i met you, i didn’t really know much about friendship. it’s not like i didn’t have friends before, but i never had any that i was particularly close to. i guess the situation that we’re in is what made us so close, and as much as i hate training, i’m glad that it made our paths cross.

i’m really proud of you. you’re one of the coolest people i know (even though you’re a fucking nerd), and i can’t wait to brag about you to anyone who will listen. god knows you won’t brag about yourself, you humble little goblin, you.

i think you and i are on the same wavelength. i’ve always felt far away from other people, but not from you. thank!!! you!!! for being you!!!

my attitude’s kinda terrible sometimes, and i’m sorry for any of the times that you’ve had to witness it (or were a victim of it). i’m going to try to be better.

i’m so excited to debut with you!!!! life is a highway and i’m glad we’re in the same car.

he isn’t sure when it started, but he realizes that he’s crying when one of his tears slips from his cheek and onto the paper. he tries to dab it away, but it smears the last word. “are you fucking kidding me?” he huffs under his breath, scratching the word out completely and rewriting it after the horrible blob of mess. he raises one hand to rub his eyelids in hopes of ending the tears at once, then folds the letter and attaches it to a keychain of muzi.

only one more to go. undoubtedly, it’ll be the most difficult to write.

                    FOR GEONWOO.

the hardest-working person i know.

i know we’ve never gotten along, and although all the blame doesn’t belong to me, i know that a lot of it does. i’ve always been harsh towards you. i’m sorry.

i know that you probably won’t believe it. you might even think that i’m joking. but i know that the way i treat you isn’t fair, and i know that it must be difficult to deal with since you’re trying to chase a dream. you shouldn’t have to share a dream with someone who makes things so difficult.

i think it’s really cool that you worked so hard to get to where you are. you have a lot of dedication, geonwoo, and that dedication will get you so far in life. i know it will.

i want you to know that i don’t really think that you’re a nobody. maybe what i think means nothing to you, but you’re just as good as any of us. i’m not embarrassed to share a stage with you.

i’d like to say that the future will be easier for us, but i can’t promise that. i want to be completely honest in this letter, so all i can say with certainty is that i am sorry.

i’m looking forward to seeing who you become in the future.

just as he writes the last letter, he realizes that the sun is almost completely up. luckily, it’s still early enough that he can go for his run and be back by the time that the others are waking up (maybe a little after), but he’s still shocked that he spent the entire night working on these letters. what a joke.

he attaches geonwoo’s letter to a keychain of apeach, then stands up for the first time in hours. he leaves taewoo’s letter on the desk in their room, then takes the others and slips them carefully under the doors of the other members’ rooms.

he tries not to overthink the decision — before he can, he goes to get ready for his run and leaves, only hoping that the letters will be read before he returns so that he doesn’t have to feel the embarrassment firsthand.