#but then the next question would be if Nosy is still on that tree

[kiwiplaetzchen]

It was late at night, and the corridors of Hogwarts were eerily quiet, save for the occasional creak of old wood and the whisper of distant footsteps. Almost everyone had gone to bed, except for the occasional pair of students hidden in dark corners, seemingly engaged in some kind of mating ritual. Nosy, however, had no interest in flicking nonsense for tonight. No, the little Niffler had a far more important mission.

Navigating the colossal castle was no small feat for someone as small as Nosy. The towering walls and endless staircases presented a challenge even for a Niffler as brilliant as him. But determination was one of Nosy's greatest qualities - well, that and his impeccable taste in shiny objects and other things. Hours of searching through hallways, past common rooms, and even a quick sniff at the kitchens had finally paid off.

There it was, standing proud and majestic: The Christmas tree he had been searching for! The lights sparkled like stars, the ornaments gleamed like treasure, and Nosy's eyes shone just as brightly as the display before him.

The Niffler had overheard a juicy piece of gossip earlier, his sharp ears tuned in on a group of Prefects chatting lazily in the corner. Apparently, they couldn't be bothered to cast protection charms on all the Christmas trees this year. Tz tz. Lazy gits, Nosy thought, clicking his beak in disdain. They clearly had nothing on Mama William, whose attention to detail was unmatched. Still, what was a loss for them was undoubtedly a massive win for Nosy.

With a squeak of excitement, Nosy hopped towards the tree. It was beautiful! The twinkling lights! The shimmering ornaments! The GLITTER! THE LIGHTS!!! It was like a dream come true for the little menace. His heart raced as if it was trying to keep up with the dazzling twinkles.

Nosy paused for just a moment, standing on his hind legs to inspect a particularly large, golden ornament hanging from one of the lowest branches. With a gentle boop, his paw made contact, and it swung lightly on its hook. He let out a squeak of pure joy, giggling at the delightful wobble it made. He could touch it! This was it - this was the jackpot!!

The little Niffler took a step back, sizing up the towering tree in all its glory, before letting out a honk of pure, unbridled joy. This was his tree now. Without further hesitation, Nosy began climbing, his paws grabbing at the lower branches as his belly pouch greedily devoured ornaments of every shape and size. Sparkling stars, glittering baubles, tiny bells - all disappeared into his pouch, his tail wiggling with glee at every piece.

And the lights! Oh, the shiny lights! Nosy couldn't resist wrapping himself in the glowing strands, his fur glowing like a festive beacon in the dark. This was, without a doubt, the best-est day ever! Perched high in the tree, surrounded by all the treasures he'd claimed, Nosy let out a loud, victorious honk that echoed through the empty halls. The Christmas tree didn’t stand a chance.

[wannabepoeticischiya]

if I can stop one heart from breaking

[ 01 ] — the offer

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He existed in the morning dew, in the afternoon haze, within the illusions of twilight. He was there. In the silence of midnight, in the wake of dawn... he was there.

Hoshina Soushiro was everywhere... except right here. He existed in every corner of the cosmos-just not in the space beside her.

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f! reader genre: romance, angst wc: 46.5k status: completed art by: keumza on twitter

“Hoshina-dono, thank you for accepting.”

“Nonsense, Uehara-san! The union between our clans will open many opportunities for the future!”

Empty-eyed, the offering of the Uehara Clan stared far off into yonder: tired, hopeless, shackled by the thought that this would be nothing but a marriage of convenience—and it will. One that is fated to leave her on her death bed, reminiscing memories of unhappiness and regret, leaving in her wake a catastrophe of regrets; plagued by the thought of what it could have been—who she could have become—the life she could have been living… if only she had done things differently.

If only you did not come to me that day…

The Uehara heir was not ignorant; often being told that she was too intuitive for her own good—that her own self self-assurance would one day be her downfall.

So, when her father had called upon her that fateful day, she knew that the fate her family had set for her would soon begin, and she would—without question nor reluctance—obey what they wished.

Because that is what they expected of her.

… if only you had left me to this cruel fate.

As twilight faded and the canvas overhead was dyed with midnight, life echoed by the city stilled into silence within the grounds of the Hoshina estate. The late winter breeze rustled the undergrowth that littered the gardens, taking the blossoms of the cherry trees into a never-ending waltz towards the horizons of the sky. Moonlight flooded through the cracks left by the clouds, flowing like water over the cheerless hue painted upon the face of a girl still restless at this unearthly hour. Slender fingers trapping a handful of golden fabric in between their grip, soiling her once pristine kimono.

“Who are you?”

Without a single second to spare, the woman had crossed the distance separating her from the intruder—nothing but a knife to his throat standing in between them.

[Name] swore she could feel her heart itching to escape from its entrapment, her blood circulating far too fast for her head to catch up—her weapon, slowly but surely, crossing the gap to meet the flesh of the poor soul that had carelessly walked in on her, stopping only when the voice raised once more to put a halt to her intentions.

“Hey—Hey! Relax. I only asked who you were…”

Urgency rippled in the waters of her stomach, certainly not having expected such a warm tone to flow from the lips of the trespasser. The Uehara heir expected a nosy servant, or at the direst of situations—an assassin. A frightened protest or even a calm proclamation would’ve been the anticipated outcome, certainly not… whatever this is.

[Name]’s gaze lingered on her hands that threatened to take the life of the person before her, rising like fireworks on New Year’s Eve; painting the abyssal canvas overhead with their trails of fire, disappearing momentarily into the heavens, leaving silence in their wake—only for them to burst forth into multitudes of color. Illuminating the darkened sky even if it was for just a few moments.

And she felt the same.

[Name]’s kaleidoscope of colors exploded at the sight of him. Moonlight shaded his face in a warm hue, decorating the eyes that looked at her with a thousand glimmers, as though the stars nestled in the depths of the cosmos were made just so they could replicate the shimmer in his irises. Threads of violet covered the distance above his forehead, swaying with the gentle gale gifted by the season of autumn. Carved upon his lips was an anxious smile as he looked at the weapon pressing against his neck before trailing his gaze to the one holding it.

He did not hold it against the woman that the initial thought she had having discovered his existence was to take his life. How could he? When he had every intention to observe her undetected; failing shortly because he could not stop the foolish question from leaving his curious lips.

It wasn’t every day that a visitor stepped foot into the estate… much less a woman.

Wine-red irises reflected the eyes that glowered at him with such ferocity. Eyes that shone like fire in the darkened room, like they could cover him in warmth yet burn him if they so ever wished. Her hands that looked as though they did not work a single day in their life, smooth with no remnants of scars, but held a blade like they’d known the harsh territory of the enemy.

At the sight of her, he wondered… would they someday slip through his own? Would her fingers twine with his like vines should the threads of fate decide to weave the tapestry of her destiny into his? Would her gaze burn through him and send him to damnation? Or would they envelop him in mellowness for the rest of eternities to come?

“I should be the one asking you that—who are you?” A harsh tone shattered his reverie, dragging him back to reality where he stands with a blade being pressed further into his neck. It split his skin open, and flowers of crimson blossomed into waterfalls—far from the daydreams of his life in happily ever after.

“Did someone send you?” The woman coerced; for every step he took to get away from her blade, she took one equal step forward. And this would progress until he would find himself cornered with nothing but an answer deemed worthy by her as his decree for freedom.

“Mark my words, I will have your head before you even think of stepping foot outside this room.”

As someone from a clan whose prowess lies with the blade, he found it pathetic that he could not get the upper hand in this situation: here, in his own household, with a weapon that was supposed to be his claim to fame now being used to threaten to snuff out his life.

He knew he could overpower her in a single move, one small gesture would’ve been enough to turn the tables in on her. But he stood there, frozen. Like he could be everything, but he still chose not to be anything.

Because for a small moment, it felt like all the hardships and failures he endured to perfect his abilities… had faded into serenity. The tears he shed, his hands that bled for heaven knows how many times, the callouses—scars—wounds—everything… they all dwindled into a dull ache until they remained as nothing but a distant echo. All the hurt and the pain… stilled into silence. Like they didn’t matter… or that he simply had no use for them anymore.

Because when time came to a standstill—there was no Kaiju, no Defense Force, there was nothing to prove, and there was nothing to gain.

There existed only him and her.

In the infinite grandeur of the cosmos, of all the stars and galaxies to have ever formed, every rift in time, the universes he could’ve been born in—here, in this moment… he found her.

“Hey, calm down—” He tried to bargain, attempting to grab the knife from [Name]’s hold. Because despite feeling at ease, she still had a weapon, and he didn’t. But he soon found himself with the world trailing upside down at a rate he was not used to, his front colliding with the floor he stood upon not even a second ago, with just enough luck to not have bitten off his tongue in the process. A weight was dumped on his back, from both the woman and her ridiculously heavy clothing.

“Ack. Ow. Get off. You’re really heavy.” He wheezed, trying to push her off; finding that his limbs were being pressured by her kimono. Seriously, how many layers do those things have?

A rhythmic tune echoed within the four corners of the room, seemingly putting everything to a stop; fleetingly distracting the man submerged in the sea of fabric from his impending demise. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever, before a muffled voice spoke the words, “Uehara-sama? Are you alright? I heard something fall…”

The man underneath [Name] looked towards the door in hopeful glee, glad to have another path paved to liberty. But his sanguine daydream of salvation shattered as a spine-crawling breath rattled his body into full alert.

“Servants.” she whispered, her lips grazing just above the lobe of his ear, the contact sending pins and needles all the way to the tips of his toes. “Now you have nowhere to run. Speak of your intentions and I will give you a painless death.”

“I would—but you’re... you’re crushing my windpipe.” He tapped the floor in desperation; it was an action he saw his opponents would often do. Berating them for being over dramatic, or that they needed to work on their breath control if they lost it to something as measly as being sat on. Now, he was the one feeling the consequences of having his oxygen circulation cut short, and it wasn’t pleasant.

As a last resort for a chance of deliverance, he tried to yell to the other person behind the door, “Aoi—” only to have a cloth intercept his cries for aid.

“Shh.”

“Uehara-sama?” Aoi, or so he had called, remained behind the screens.

[Name] grabbed a fistful of what looked to be violet hair and raised his head to give him a clear view of the door, where the light from the hallway met the closed shoji screens, letting in enough luminescence to see the shadows of the two figures on the floor but dull enough not to be able to put a face to them. “You’re really asking to be killed.”

The head [Name] held by the hair shook in refusal, his vision blurring and clouding over, feeling his chest rise in an erratic manner as he tried to catch the breath he was losing, fast.

Lost in the fields of her thoughts, [Name] failed to hear the warning of the servant behind the door, nor was she quick enough to stop Aoi from sliding it open.

“I’m coming in, my lady—Hoshina-sama?” [Name] stared at the silhouette of the attendant standing by the threshold, startled by both her sudden appearance… and the name that flowed from her tongue.

Did she just say Hoshina?

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pls believe me when I say this was supposed to be a one shot... but someone went overboard someone is me.

[sturnsblogs]

FIRST “HANGOUT”

Tattoo!Artist!Mateo X Nick

—

Mateo had been texting Nick nearly every day since he got his number three weeks ago. It started off with flirty chaos—Mateo couldn’t help himself.

Mateo: hey trouble. you miss me yet or is it too soon to ask

Nick: we spoke like 2 hours ago.

Mateo: yeah and it’s been a lonely 2 hours.

Nick: you’re ridiculous.

Mateo: you love it.

And truthfully? Nick kind of did. It was new for him—wanting to text someone back right away, waiting for those “good morning” messages that were always accompanied by a meme or a badly drawn frog doodle Mateo made on his phone. It wasn’t just playful; it felt personal. Comfortable.

And then came the message that made Nick stop breathing for a second:

Mateo: wanna hangout? like… irl. with froyo. and maybe a bench with your name on it.

Now here they were. Sitting side by side on a weathered bench in a half-empty plaza, frozen yogurt cups in their hands, knees brushing every so often like neither of them really wanted to move. The sun was starting to dip behind the trees, painting everything in soft amber light.

Nick swirled a bite of his frozen yogurt, stealing a glance at Mateo. “So this is your idea of a first hangout?”

Mateo smirked without looking at him. “You said hangout, I said date. I’m just letting you pretend it’s casual so you don’t freak out.”

Nick scoffed, smiling despite himself. “I’m not freaking out.”

“You’re totally freaking out.”

Nick nudged him with his elbow. “You’re annoying.”

“And you’re cute. So it balances.”

That shut him up—for a second.

Eventually, their conversation drifted from favorite froyo toppings to more personal things. Mateo asked questions gently, curious but never pushy.

“So, like… were you always open online? About being gay?” he asked, watching the light catch in Nick’s lashes.

Nick nodded slowly. “Yeah. Kinda didn’t see the point in hiding it. I mean, I wasn’t shouting it from the rooftops, but I never felt like pretending either. It was just—‘this is me,’ you know?”

Mateo nodded, visibly impressed. “That’s cool. I didn’t really get that option growing up. I had to… test the waters first. With jokes. See who flinched.”

Nick looked over at him, his voice softer. “Did they?”

“Some,” Mateo said with a shrug. “But not the ones that mattered.”

There was a pause. A kind of quiet understanding that passed between them—different paths, similar weight.

Nick took another bite, then said with a little smirk, “So… exes?”

Mateo grinned. “Nosy.”

“You asked me first.”

“Touché.” He stretched his legs out, leaned back on the bench like he was getting comfortable. “One serious one. He sucked.”

Nick snorted. “Elaborate.”

“He was the type to post quotes about loyalty and then ghost me for three days.”

Nick laughed.

“What about you?”

Nick hesitated, then nodded. “One real one. It was good until it wasn’t. We wanted different things.”

Mateo was quiet for a second. Then: “Well, for the record, I want this froyo, that bench, and to keep sitting next to you.”

Nick smiled, cheeks pink. “That’s a good start.”

Mateo bumped their knees again, but this time didn’t move away. “Told you this would be a good first date.”

Nick rolled his eyes, but the way he glanced down at their knees still touching? Yeah. He didn’t mind. Not at all.

The sun had sunk a little lower, casting long, golden shadows across the pavement, and neither of them had moved much from that bench. Their empty froyo cups were now sitting beside them, forgotten, the conversation having drifted somewhere softer—quieter. The kind that makes time blur.

Nick was leaning back slightly, arms resting on the bench behind him, legs crossed at the ankle. He looked calm, but Mateo could still see the way his fingers fidgeted, the occasional flick of his eyes whenever their shoulders brushed. It was subtle, but telling.

Mateo tilted his head, watching him with that familiar, crooked smile. “You always get this quiet after you laugh too much?”

Nick shot him a sideways look. “No. You’re just… throwing me off.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Nick shook his head. “No. It’s just new.”

Mateo hummed softly and looked down at his own hands for a second, thumbs rubbing together in thought. Then, like it was nothing at all, he reached out and gently let his fingers brush against Nick’s. Just a light touch. A question with no words.

Nick glanced down at their hands but didn’t move. Not away, not closer—just let it be.

Mateo let out the smallest breath, like he hadn’t realized he was holding it. Slowly, carefully, he shifted his hand to slide fully into Nick’s, interlocking their fingers. No pressure. No squeeze. Just there.

Nick’s hand curled back around his almost instantly.

Mateo smiled down at their hands, then looked back up at him, eyes soft. “Okay. Cool.”

Nick looked at him, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Cool?”

Mateo nodded, lips twitching like he was fighting back something smug. “Just making sure you didn’t flinch.”

“I didn’t.”

“I noticed.”

They sat there like that for a while—hand in hand, legs slightly tangled, laughing here and there but mostly just being. It was easy. Which was weird. And nice. And a little terrifying.

Eventually, Nick leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a second. “I don’t usually do this.”

“Hold hands?”

“Feel this comfortable.”

Mateo turned a little, resting his chin on his shoulder with a small, sincere smile. “Guess I’m just charming.”

Nick cracked an eye open and laughed. “You’re something, alright.”

But he didn’t let go. Not even for a second.

They eventually got up from the bench, reluctantly letting go of each other’s hands—but only because Nick mumbled something about how he should probably head home, and Mateo offered to walk him. “It’s not far,” Nick had said, but Mateo just waved him off with a cocky grin. “Even better. More time with my favorite triplet.”

The walk back was filled with quiet jokes and casual shoulder bumps, the kind of silence between them that felt full, not awkward. Nick was talking about some weird behind-the-scenes thing from filming a video with his brothers, and Mateo was hanging onto every word—not just because of what Nick was saying, but how his eyes lit up when he talked about the chaos of it all.

When they finally reached Nick’s place, they lingered on the sidewalk out front. The porch light buzzed on overhead, spilling soft yellow across their faces. Neither of them really moved.

“Well…” Nick started, rocking back on his heels. “Thanks for the walk. And the froyo. And, you know… not being weird.”

Mateo raised an eyebrow. “I’m definitely being weird.”

Nick smiled. “Yeah, but not the bad kind.”

They stood there for a beat too long before Mateo opened his arms a little. “Okay, come here.”

Nick rolled his eyes but stepped forward, and when Mateo wrapped his arms around him, it was tighter than he expected. Warm. Safe. Nick’s arms slid around his waist, and they just… stood there. Hugging. For kind of a while. Long enough that Nick’s heart started doing that nervous-fast-beating thing again, and Mateo’s fingers were idly brushing the hem of his hoodie in the back.

Neither of them pulled away first. They just slowly loosened the hug, but their faces were still close, both of them grinning like idiots.

“I’ll text you,” Mateo said, voice low.

Nick nodded, stepping back toward the door. “You better.”

And then he disappeared inside, trying to look chill even though his ears were literally burning.

The second the door shut behind him, it was game over.

Matt and Chris were both sitting on the couch, and their heads snapped toward him like synchronized nosy siblings.

“Well that was a long walk,” Matt said with a smirk.

Chris grinned. “You’re blushing. Oh my god, he’s blushing.”

Nick threw his hoodie onto the back of the couch and groaned. “Don’t start.”

Matt leaned forward. “Who is he? Is he nice? Is he, like… a real person? What does he do?”

Chris added, “Is he the tattoo guy?! Please tell me it’s the tattoo guy. I knew you liked him when you came back with that stupid smile after the frog tattoo.”

Nick just stared at them, half annoyed and half flustered. “You guys are worse than fans.”

Chris raised a brow. “That means yes.”

Nick didn’t confirm. Didn’t deny. He just muttered “shut up” and walked toward his room, but not before Matt called after him with a sing-song, “Tell Mateo we say hiiii!”

Nick flipped them off over his shoulder, but he was smiling the whole way down the hall.

—

A/N- I’m back guys (:

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset-deactivate @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @sturnns-world @realuvrrr

[magnus-fierro]

FIRST TUMBLR POST WOOHOOO

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

CW: Identity crisis, terrible singing by a sword.

₊˚ෆ Identity

A fierrochase oneshot ₊˚ෆ

⋆⁺₊⋆ CHAPTER ☀︎ 1 ⋆⁺₊⋆

Alex’s head was buzzing. The thoughts were on loop. I’m not real. I’m not real. What am I? Am I even human? Why can’t i decide one form to be in? Do i even have a favorite color anymore? This had been happening for a while. Alex Fierro, the child of Loki, a shapeshifter, was questioning what he was.

Of course, he could ask for help. He had his boyfriend, Magnus. That absolute living sunshine of a man. But he didn’t want to seem weak, or vulnerable. Everyone saw Alex as the tough, stubborn, unwavering, sassy warrior of floor 19. He can’t be weak.

So he hid away from everyone. All his friends, his lover, even his sister Samirah. He screamed into pillows and sobbed into his sleeves, asking himself over and over, ‘Who am I? What am I? Why can’t i figure it out?!’, and hating himself every time. Normally, his meltdowns were quiet enough. But not today.

⋆⁺₊⋆ CHAPTER ☀︎ 2 ⋆⁺₊⋆

I was just taking a stroll with my magic sword—did i say magic? i meant magic, talking, TERRIBLY OFF KEY singing, sword. Named jack. Who flirted with Percy jackson’s sword. YES, YES WE ALL KNOW PERCY JACKSON BUT THIS ISNT ABOUT HIM. And of course, Alex had been acting like his blocked off, emotionally challenged self. It was so routine by then it’s not even funny.

But lately, it’d been worse. He didn’t even sleep in my room anymore, which was routine just as much as him changing to a her. And that was often. So, being my nosy self, I knocked on his door. And knocked. and knocked again. And again. That’s not normal. Normally he tells me to go away if i knock more than twice.

“Alex? Are you okay?” No response. “Alex?” No response. “I have food?” No response. That’s when i knew something was really wrong. Alex always opened the door for food. “Jack. Break the door.”

God i shouldn’t have told him to. I should’ve just grabbed him and broken it down myself. Why, you may ask? He started singing wrecking ball by Miley Cyrus. In a terrible a-minor that would make that one greek god mad. Annabeth told me about it. Good thing jack is a sword.

Once the door was broken down, jack skedaddled. Because of course he did. I looked around, but Alex wasn’t near her bed, at her pottery station, or climbing the tree in the middle of her room.

⋆⁺₊⋆ CHAPTER ☀︎ 3 ⋆⁺₊⋆

When i tell you i panicked so hard, i mean it. Because the second i realized Alex wasn’t in the main part of her room, i heard crying and mumbling from the bathroom. Loki must be messing with her, I thought. Trying to drive her insane. I won’t let that happen. So, in true Einerjar fashion, I broke the handle off the door.

But i saw something i never would’ve expected. Alex was genuinely breaking down. And the mumbling? She was asking herself a question most Einerjar don’t bother with anymore. “What am i? what am i? what am i? what am i?”

My first instinct was to power of Frey it, but i don’t think that works on identity crisis’. So, i did the next best thing. I sat down on the ground with Alex and pulled her close. “Alex. Breathe. Try to breathe, okay?” I think i snapped her out of it just enough to stop hyperventilating, because her breathing slowed. She was still mumbling, but she was at least a bit steadier.

“I don’t know what i am..” she said softly. I could barely hear her. “M-Maggy..what am I..? Was i ever really human..?”

I took her face in my hands, her face cold from being covered in tears. “You, Alex Fierro, are the most kickass, amazing, strong, independent, intelligent, gorgeous being in the nine worlds.” I kissed her head gently, intertwining my fingers with hers. “And no matter what form you take, you’re mine, and I love you.”

She smiled and squeezed my hand. “You are such a dork, beantown.” she said in a cracked but happier voice. “I’m staying in your room tonight, Mainly because you and your sword broke my doors.”

“Fine by me, beautiful”

short as Lokis leash with the gods but you know

*+:｡.｡　　｡.｡:+*

FIN

[weirdestbooks]

Secret States Chapter 17

Oceania's Questions (Wattpad | Ao3)

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“Palau, who’s Alabama’s son?” Tuvalu asked as they exited the meeting, curiosity glimmering in his gaze.

“I've already told you, Tuvalu, I don’t know. I know I lived with them, but that doesn’t mean I kept track of that family tree,” Palau lied, knowing that it was best not to get involved in the inevitable fallback from that.

Palau was independent, and as much as she loved her family, she wished to be distant from that. She hoped it would be resolved before someone turned it into a bigger deal than it already was.

“Palau, we know that can’t be true,” Fiji said, her gaze boring into Palau’s. Palau looked away, feeling the littlest bit guilty but still resolute in her decision. 

“Even if it isn’t, we have the right to privacy in that because, until Liberia, we don’t want to be involved in any unnecessary drama,” Marshall Islands said, cutting into the conversation.

“You Americans are always strangely closed off,” Samoa muttered.

“We just want to know! We won’t involve you in any drama,” Nauru insisted.

“I know you want to promise that,” Palau began, trying her best to keep her tone civil.

“But Oceania is the homeland of dramatics, and merely then knowing is going to cause mass chaos?” Aotearoa said, raising an eyebrow. His words were cheeky, but the understanding in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Yes,” Palau admitted sheepishly, “That.”

“Okay, I understand that,” Nauru said.

“It’s not really your business anyway. I know you’re curious because you’re all nosy, but Grandpa’s business is Grandpa’s business, and you don’t really need to be involved, just like you don’t need to know,” Micronesia added.

“Harsh but fair,” Australia said, crossing his arms with a small smile. Palau wasn’t sure if his acceptable was because he already knew, as he was close enough with California and, more crucially, South Carolina to have been informed, or if he genuinely didn’t know but was backing off anyway.

Either way, Palau appreciated it.

“You think Father is going to get…pushy with America for this?” Fiji asked.

“Almost certainly. You know how he feels about…most things, and he feels he has a right to know,” Marshall Islands said, looking the slightest bit uncomfortable.

“Not to mention, didn’t he take one of your territories temporarily?” Australia asked as if he were half-remembering a fact he heard once.

“Yeah, he did. Grandpa got Michigan back, and Michigan doesn’t claim any relation with Britain, but…” Palau said, trailing off. While America was legally her adoptive father, Palau never referred to him as such. It had been done as a political play after her mother, Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands, died, and Palau became independent, allowing her to keep ahold of the goodwill their people had.

“Grandfather won’t accept that,” Aotearoa said, rubbing his arms.

“Maybe not before, but he’s going to therapy now because Uncle Wales is making him. Maybe…maybe that will help him relax a little once the shock wears off,” Kiribati suggested. Australia let out a small laugh.

“Let’s hope so. Uncle America and his states don’t need him and Canada on their backs,” Australia said.

“Especially not Mama. Not after their history together,” Solomon Islands added. Samoa’s face paled.

“Oh, shit, Hawaiʻi. He’s going to know Hawaiʻi is alive,” Samoa said. Aotearoa shook his head.

“He’ll know a Hawaiʻi is alive. He always thought the territory was someone else, remember? He told us Aunty Hawaiʻi died and went on and on about her pride and used it as a lesson as to why we should be humble,” Aotearoa explained. 

“God, you had awful childhoods,” Vanuatu muttered.

“He thinks she’s dead. So we should keep it that way until Aunty Hawaiʻi decides he should know,” Aotearoa finished. Tonga nodded, wringing her hands together.

“Roa’s right. It’s better…it’s better he doesn’t know, at least until things die down. He’ll become more forceful, and that’s something that neither of them needs,” Tonga said, worry never leaving her face.

“I should…I should go be with Mama,” Solomon Islands said, suddenly looking worried, “I want to be there for her.”

“I want to be with Aunty Hawaiʻi too. We can check on her together,” Aotearoa said. Solomon Islands nodded, and the two of them vanished.

“Do you…do you think Father will calm down?” Fiji asked, her voice nervous. She had more right to be than anyone else. It was her son that Britain had almost beaten to death once, and the main reason why Palau was so close with the formerly and currently British Oceanics.

Grandpa and Hawaiʻi had helped to give those nations a safe place at Hawaiʻi’s old house. Mother had often gone there and spent time with them, helping to keep the house stocked and making sure everyone was okay. Palau accompanied her at times.

She missed her mother.

As for Britain…he was hard to read.

“I hope he does. He won’t do anything as drastic as what he did to Pacific, that’s for sure. His goal is to probably win back Uncle America’s affection somehow and prove he’s changed enough to have visiting rights,” Australia said. Micronesia snorted.

“That implies that Uncle James is going to let Britain see them—fat chance of that. Between Grandpa and Uncle James, Britain isn’t ever going to visit unless a state invites them in,” Micronesia explained.

“And he probably won’t speak to any of them one-on-one unless they reach out, which I can’t see anyone doing,” Marshall Islands added.

“So they’ll fend him off until he loses interest?” Australia asked with a grin. Samoa elbowed him in the side.

“You know he doesn’t ‘lose interest,’” Samoa said. Palau frowned.

“Hopefully, this time, he does. After everything…he doesn’t have the right to know them,” Palau said. Australia shook his head.

“You’re right, he doesn’t. I’ll see what we can do to get him to…relax about it,” Australia said.

“And Canada. You know…you know how angry he was about the perceived sons America took from him. He’ll be mad as well,” Fiji said.

“At least he’s not as…triggering to the Americans as Britain would be,” Vanuatu said.

“He burnt down America’s capital with him inside of it.”

“Oh.”

[masterjedilenawrites]

Clone Force Omega story prompt: Omega gets a boyfriend or girlfriend and her little brothers suddenly become very protective of her and live up to their nickname "the Bad Batch".

Clone Force Omega: Part 3

Love this prompt! Gave me just the boost of motivation I needed to keep going with the AU.

Now, this chapter won't quite get to the boyfriend/girlfriend part, but you'll see how I'm setting it up. I also decided that Omega wouldn't go to the Lawquane's right away like Hunter had in the show. I'm not cutting their part out of the AU completely, just reordering things a bit.

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Omega & The Bad Batch | 4.2k words

Content: Canon-typical violence/fighting/peril, some flirty banter,

The one blessing of having four young kids to look out for, was never having a moment quiet enough to think about the demons you were running from.

Omega recognized this blessing immediately, knowing if she had been alone on this ship, she'd likely have started falling apart by now. The Republic was gone, changed into something cold and ugly. Her life as a lone soldier was done, her sense of purpose and identity now floating nebulous in the wind like the smoky remnants of a fire. And Echo...

"Omega, what does this do?" a little voice called out, just before bunks started sliding out of the wall with a harsh grating sound, revealing that they'd clearly never been used in all the time the ship had been in commission.

She was about to scold Tech for being nosy, knowing there were worse buttons to push without knowing what they'd do first, but then decided the bunk beds gave an opportunity to redirect their attentions.

"Oh good, just in time for bed," she said with feigned cheer.

There was a chorus of whines from around the ship. None of them thought they'd still have a bedtime while on an adventure. How lame.

But in spite of the protests, she still managed to get them to comply with the promise that sleep would make them even stronger and smarter than they already were. And they'd need a lot of strength and brain power if they were going to visit their first planet outside of Kamino.

"What's it going to be like?" Hunter asked eagerly as she tucked each of them in. "Are there going to be trees?"

"Ooh, what about mountains?" asked Wrecker with an equally excited lilt to his voice. "Or volcanoes?"

"I want to see a bird," chimed in Tech. "I read that sometimes they are really small, and sometimes they are really big."

"Go to sleep," Omega repeated, crossing over to the other set of bunks. "You'll see soon enough."

She finished her round of tuck-ins with Crosshair, who was usually the quietest of the bunch, but Omega knew that didn't always mean he had nothing to say. She leaned in close as she pulled the blanket up to his chin.

"What do you want to see?" she whispered so the others wouldn't hear her special treatment. She wasn't sure why she had such a soft spot for the little grump; he really could be a brat sometimes. But truthfully, she could be one, too. Maybe that was why.

Crosshair blinked up at her with eyes she knew had been enhanced even more than hers had. There'd be a lot for those eyes to take in, wherever they ended up going. But his response didn't answer her question.

"What's going to happen to us?" he asked, also, thankfully, in a whisper.

She could already hear Wrecker snoring behind them. Hunter was the only one who could probably hear at this point. She'd have to choose her words carefully so neither would panic.

"I don't know," she decided to go with the truth. A simple version of it, anyway. "But I promise, no matter what happens, I will take care of you. We're family. We stick together."

That seemed to satisfy Crosshair, at least enough for him to close his eyes when she repeated the instruction to go to sleep.

Omega returned to the cockpit and sat down in her seat heavily. A stray wisp of hair tickled her cheek so she started undoing her braid, running her fingers through her curls as they bounced free. Every pass of her hand from her scalp the ends of her hair, a new troublesome thought seemed to enter her mind. What was going to happen to them? Where were they even going? What was this new Empire really all about? How could Echo have...

She stopped that thought as a sudden lump pushed its way in her throat. She knew she couldn't explain Echo's behavior, just as she couldn't answer any of those other pesky questions. Not without all the facts. The logical side of her brain, a trait she shared with Tech, insisted she investigate before coming to any wild conclusions.

So she swept her unruly hair behind her shoulder and leaned forward in her seat, tapping around on the holomap and doing some quick mental-calculations. She didn't know where to get information, but she knew someone who might. Unfortunately, the Empire's crews hadn't refueled her ship, or even restocked on rations, since she'd returned from her last mission. She could picture the stomachs of four growing boys growling as soon as they woke up, and knew that wouldn't do. And all that was in addition to the fact that it wouldn't take long for the ship's signature to be put on a wanted list, if it hadn't been already.

They'd need to make a supply run first. And get the ship's code scrambled before it drew unwanted attention. Omega swiped at the map and saw Pantora was the closest planet. That would have to do.

* * *

Omega had once dreamed about taking the boys off Kamino. Just for a day. Most clones, including herself, had to wait until they were fully grown and fully trained before they were mobilized off planet for the first time. Occasionally groups of young cadets were taken on field trips, but it was almost always within the confines of a spacecraft, never on ground. Omega wanted different for her brothers. They were special, a secret project. Why shouldn't they be given special privileges as well?

She would've taken them somewhere warm, green, and full of wildlife. Somewhere like Naboo or Alderaan. She'd let them run around in nature, feel the tactile sensations of dirt beneath their toes and sunshine on their faces. They could climb a tree that wasn't holographic, swim in water what wasn't dark and cold, run as fast and as long as they wanted without the danger of reaching the end of a platform. For one day, they could just be kids.

Pantora certainly had its fair share of luscious landscapes that would've suited such a day perfectly. Unfortunately, there were no supplies out in the Pantoran wilderness. So the boys' first experience stepping foot on another planet was within a city. And though she kept it to herself, Omega was not happy about it.

Cities were not her thing. Too many people, too many dark alleyways. It was difficult enough to process the amount of sensory input and keep watch of her own back, but now she'd have to do it with four young boys in tow. And not only that, but there was simply too much to do in such a short time frame. What a nightmare.

"Tech, have you ever had to scramble a ship's signature before?" she asked, already knowing the answer but needing to humor her need for hope anyway.

"No, but I know how to look up ships by their signatures when looking through the archives!" he grinned, very proud of himself despite the fact that was not the same thing. Not even close.

The Marauder had just touched down but she held back on lowering the ramp for a few minutes while she chewed on her lip in thought. She hated the idea of splitting them up but she couldn't see any way around it. Not unless they had the luxury of staying here all week, which they most certainly did not.

"Okay, here's the plan," she finally said, spinning around.

"Is this a mission plan?" asked Hunter as they crowded around her in a surprising show of obedience.

"Yep. Our first mission. You boys ready?"

They all nodded eagerly. If this was the only way to keep their attentions, so be it.

"Tech, you're going to stay with the ship and scramble it. I'll be talking you through everything on comms. Don't do anything until I give you the instruction. Copy?"

"Copy that," Tech nodded and pushed up his goggles.

"Wrecker, you're also going to stay and keep watch. If anyone comes poking around asking questions, let them know your parents are exchanging credits and will be back soon."

"Parents?" Wrecker's nose scrunched in confusion.

"Yes, it's a cover story."

"Ohh," he said, still looking confused.

Omega decided to not waste time trying to explain more. She also wasn't going to tell him that she thought he was the best chance at defending himself and Tech should, gods-forbid, anyone try to harm or capture them.

"Hunter, Crosshair, you two are going to follow me into town for supplies. You're going to keep an eye on things and let me know if you sense any danger."

Both boys gave nods and salutes of their own. 

Omega breathed deeply through her nose. "Okay. That's the plan. Let's go."

Thankfully the boys had already been wearing fairly casual clothes, though she'd had to carefully rip off the old Republic logos from the sleeves while they'd slept. She had been in her blacks upon leaving, but she always kept a spare change of civvy clothes on board for her undercover missions, so she'd changed into those earlier as well. After quickly buying off the shipyard foreman to not ask questions for the next half cycle, they set off on their respective tasks.

"Okay, Tech, you're going to start by locating the rear parallax inverters..." she began listing off instructions into the comms link as soon as they hit the main street of the city.

Walking Tech through the procedure, looking for market stalls with deals on rations and fuel, keeping an eye on two boys who were in awe at every little thing around them, and steering clear of the parade of Imperial soldiers marching about proved to be quite the challenge. Though one of Omega's strong suits was multitasking, she still had her hands full.

"Crosshair, keep up!" she shouted back at the boy, who had stopped to pet a friendly Tooka on the side of the road.

"Why is everyone cheering?" Hunter asked, tugging at her sleeve for an answer to the dozenth question he'd asked in the past two minutes.

"End of the war," Omega quickly responded before pressing the button on the comm link and answered a different question from a different brother. "Yes, Tech, the one with the blinking light. Have Wrecker help you pull it out. Gently."

She then turned into a stall and saddled up to the counter, plopping an old pyro denton grenade between her and the merchant. "I'd like to do a trade."

She spent the next ten minutes continuing to bounce between the various demands for her attention, haggling with the merchant, walking Tech through the complicated procedure of rewiring the key, making sure Wrecker was being useful by putting all the other parts back into the ship. But at some point, she'd decided Hunter and Crosshair didn't need as much of her focus as they both amused themselves playing with the lost Tooka. It wasn't until she'd finally sold the merchant on the value of her grenade did she then turn around and notice they were gone.

"Hunter? Cross?" she called out, rushing to the street and looking both ways.

"They went that way," the merchant told her, pointing toward her left. "Chased that poor creature away."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

Omega was more frustrated than frantic. She half-walked, half-jogged down the road, careful to look down alleys and within stalls, just in case her brothers were hiding there.

She paused at an intersection, glancing at the three options before her for only a second each. Somehow, she felt that she had to go down the one on the right. Her instincts never steered her wrong.

No sooner had she turned the corner did Crosshair come rushing up to her. She was relieved, but fully prepared to start scolding the boy for running off in a strange place like that. But the panic in Crosshair's eyes stopped her.

"Where's Hunter?" she asked instead.

Crosshair pointed down the road. "There's this lady. She said she'd help us find you but took us the wrong way. Hunter wouldn't listen to me."

Omega started running, making sure Cross was just a step behind her. Soon the road twisted and she saw a little head of messy brown hair through the crowd ahead.

"Hunter!" she called out. The little boy stopped and turned with a big grin on his face. He was holding some kind of fruit.

"There she is!" he said to the person standing next to him. "That's my sister, Omega!"

Sure enough, someone was accompanying him, though Omega could see right away that she was less of a lady and more like a bounty hunter.

"Hunter, get over here right now," Omega barked. She could hear the garbled voice of Tech coming from the comm link in her hand, asking for his next instructions, but she shoved it into her pocket. She kept her hand hovering by her hip, where her trusty blaster hung at the ready.

"It's okay, Omega," Hunter called back, taking a bite out of the fruit he held. "She was helping us look for you."

Crosshair clutched at the back of Omega's shirt and shook his head at his brother. At least one of them had a healthy sense of stranger danger, Omega thought.

"Yes, Hunter and I were getting to know each other," the girl said. Her tone was friendly enough, but Omega could see the threat in her eyes. They looked even more dangerous as soon as the girl put her helmet on, big brown eyes that squinted confidently through a slat in the helmet. Omega now wished she'd brought her own, but it would've drawn too much unwanted attention.

Instead, Omega crouched with her hand now resting firmly on the hilt of her blaster. Her opponent did the same. A good old fashioned stand off that would've been a lot more fun had Hunter not been in between them.

"Cowering behind a kid, very brave," she called to the girl, hoping some banter might buy her some time to get a plan together.

"What can I say," the girl responded, "I'm an opportunist."

That drew Hunter's attention to what was really going on. Now his eyes were as wide and scared as Crosshair's had been.

"Omega?" he whined as he dropped his fruit.

"How much is the bounty?" Omega spoke over him and asked the girl.

"More than you can afford to buy me out of."

"Maybe I have something worth more than credits to you."

The girl laughed. "A defective clone on the run from the Empire? With four little boys hanging on her back? That practically pays for my retirement. There's nothing I want more."

"Pft, retirement's overrated," Omega egged on. "You'd get bored. Hitch a ride with me, though, and I'll show you the adventure of a lifetime."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were flirting with me."

"Well... Is it working?"

"Hmm, not really."

The girl didn't give Omega a chance to come up with any further quips. She whipped out her blaster and started firing, giving Omega no choice but to duck for cover. Crosshair jumped with her, though somehow he had pulled out one of her vibroblades from behind her back.

"Hey, let's switch," she said, pulling out her blaster to give to the boy and taking the blade instead. "I have an idea."

Meanwhile, Hunter had thrown himself at the girl, trying to wrestle the blaster out of her hands. Omega scowled as she looked around the crate they'd hidden behind to see him so brazenly fight a bounty hunter ten times as skilled. Once they got out of this mess and away from Pantora, she'd have to find some time to train the boys on safer tactics.

Even so, she didn't immediately rush out. Hunter was distracting the girl's attention just enough for Omega to slip behind a different crate that was a little closer. She motioned for Crosshair to stay where he was. And then, as soon as the girl had twisted around in an attempt to push Hunter to the ground, Omega jumped out and hurled the vibroblade.

The girl was too fast. She grabbed at a wicker basket lid from a nearby stall and used it as a shield. The blade lodged itself in it.

Omega was a little faster. She rushed out from the crate while the blade had still been circling in the air. The girl flipped the lid around to try and dislodge the blade, but Omega was already upon her, shoving her knee right into the girl's abdomen.

"Hunter, run!" Omega barked as she tried to wrestle the lid away. She didn't look to see if the boy listened, putting all her might into the hand-to-hand combat she was now locked in with this bounty hunter.

"You fight dirty, clone," the girl gritted through her teeth, parrying one of Omega's punches with the but of her blaster.

Omega let go of the lid so she could roundhouse kick the blaster out of the girl's hands. It went clattering down the street, causing several people to shriek as they realized a serious fight was breaking loose. Great. No doubt those Imperial soldiers would soon be showing up.

The girl didn't mourn the loss of her blaster, instead taking advantage of the blade having fallen out of the lid as Omega dropped it. She somersaulted over the thing, grasping the hilt and kicking out at Omega's legs in one smooth swoop. Omega would've been impressed had she not had the wind knocked out of her.

Then the bounty hunter was on top of her, the hum of the vibroblade reaching Omega's ears before the blade itself got too close. She gasped for air as she threw up her wrists, criss-crossing them underneath the girl's hand and pushing back. The girl's other hand came around and grasped at Omega's throat.

"Hell of a way to flirt back," Omega rasped, still pushing with all her might to get the blade away from her face.

Surprisingly, the bounty hunter grinned. Or at least, Omega assumed she did, given the wrinkles around her eyes.

"Honey, these aren't even my best moves."

Sudden blaster fire came from above, clipping the bounty hunter in the shoulder. She cried out and jerked back just enough for Omega to grab the blade and pull. A sharp, electrical pain radiated up to her elbow as the thing pierced through her palm, but she didn't care. She kicked upward, making contact with the girl's rear end and sending her sprawling.

"Omega!" Hunter called out to her. Crosshair was next to him holding a smoking blaster in shaky hands.

Omega flipped herself onto her feet and immediately started sprinting before the bounty hunter could recover herself. Hunter and Crosshair followed, running as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Blaster fire followed as well. The bounty hunter had found her gun again. They kept running.

"Citizens! Halt!" A few of the local police had arrived at the scene, but Omega and her brothers went barreling past them.

She turned them down an alleyway to escape both of the threats that were now close behind. Her mind was frantic, unsure how they could make it back to the ship before someone caught up to them. Even if they managed to get off planet, they were still screwed. With little fuel and a bounty on their heads, they were essentially trapped.

"Omega!"

The voice that called her faint and distorted, so much so she almost didn't hear it over her racing heartbeat. She turned back to see Hunter and Crosshair were keeping pace, but neither looked like they had been trying to say anything.

"Omega!" it came again. And then she remembered the comm link in her pocket.

"Tech!" she huffed into the mic. "Get the ship running, now!"

"I already did!" he responded proudly. "You left the comm on and we heard shooting. We're coming to your rescue!"

Omega stopped running at the end of the alley, peering out to see people milling about with no clue of the chaos she brought with her. Hunter and Crosshair pulled up next to her, huffing and puffing.

She brought a hand to her temple and tried to think. Tech couldn't fly a ship, no matter how badly he believed he could. But, if she could talk him through the basics like she had with the signature key, and if her and the boys could find higher ground, they just may have a shot at escape.

"Tech," she whispered into the comm link. "There's a satellite tower just north of the docking bay. You're going to pick us up at the top. Now, listen very carefully. You're only going to push the buttons I tell you to."

"And what do I do?" came Wrecker's voice.

"Help him navigate."

Omega silently motioned for Hunter and Cross to follow her lead again. As calmly but as quickly as possible, they went out into the street and hurried down the lane toward the satellite tower, and all the while Omega talked Tech through the controls of the ship. She heard some concerning sounds in return, both through the comm feed as well as out in the real world. The bay was close enough to their current location that ever scrape of the ship's wings against the walls let out a harsh shriek into the surrounding area. Omega tried not to cringe.

They reached the tower and she sent the boys up the ladder first. There was no time for a pep talk, but they seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation and started climbing without a fuss. If Wrecker had been here instead, different story.

"Leaving so soon?"

The bounty hunter's voice rang out across the street from behind her. Omega looked over her shoulder, her foot resting on the first rung of the ladder.

"Just when we were getting to know each other," the girl sauntered forward. The police, or any Imperials, didn't seem to have made it yet. But Omega could sense they weren't far behind.

"The offer still stands," Omega called back, looking up briefly to see her brothers were making good progress on the ladder. "I can give you more than the Empire ever could."

She was trying to be cheeky, buy some time for Tech to get off the ground. But in a strange way, she also meant it. The future was so uncertain, it was appealing to think there could be one person out there that didn't want to kill them.

"Oh, I'm not working for the Empire," the girl responded.

Omega didn't have time to process that odd statement. The police had just rounded the corner behind the bounty hunter, and Tech had just breached the top of the landing bay wall.

Omega jumped and caught the tenth rung on the ladder and began climbing from there. There were a few blaster shots that ricocheted off the side of the tower, but the police quickly converged on the bounty hunter and put a stop to it. Omega quickly caught up to the boys, who were just reaching the top platform. She all but pushed them onto it.

"Alright Tech, nice and easy," she encouraged the young boy to move the ship forward. "The button above the thrusters lowers the ramp."

The side of the ship opened up and the ramp promptly slid out from there. Omega jumped as soon as it was close enough, and then turned to reach a hand out to the others.

Whatever confidence they'd had before was gone. Hunter looked down the gap between the platform and the ramp and Crosshair bit his lip nervously.

"It's okay, boys. You're so brave. You got this. I've got you."

Hunter swallowed and nodded his head. He was the first to try the jump. He flung his little body onto the ramp and Omega caught him square on. Seeing it was possible, Crosshair soon followed.

Omega shooed Tech out of the pilot's seat, giving him just a small high-five before she narrowed in on the task at hand. As the Marauder zipped out of the Pantoran city and back toward the darkness of space, everyone stayed silent. Today had been a lot. Too much, probably.

Omega wanted so desperately to cry, a feeling she hadn't ever been eager to indulge in. The reality of their situation was settling in deeper and deeper with each passing moment. Try as she might, she could not guarantee the safety of these boys, not with everyone in the galaxy out to get them. And for what? Why? This target on their heads was strange given the other matters the Empire seemed to need to focus on. And that bounty hunter had said she wasn't even working for the Empire. Who else could be looking for them?

She shook her head and sent them back into hyperspace. She knew where she needed to go. Looking for answers was tempting, but no longer the priority. She needed to get the boys to safety, first.

Clone Force Omega Tag: @kaijusplotch, @flowered-bicycles

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[lgcjino]

RE: JINO 'I SWEAR I WON'T GET INTO A SCANDAL' MOON — a black banquet reflection

setbacks are normal. 

being flexible under such uncertain conditions was also a notable skill an actor should have.

jino is flexible, but at his core — he’s quite confused. at the bottom of the totem pole, he is, question marks blaring in otherwise bewildered eyes when he’s told that they will be facing delays and a reconfiguration of schedules and scenes that needed to be re-shot.

while jino is not a core member of the film, he is but a cog in the machine — one of the many who are struck by the suddenness of change and the waste of time, resources and talent that will ultimately suffer from the selfishness of one person. jino should be upset — he should be — but that doesn’t stop jino from pulling hyunsoo to the side and asking him just why this was all happening: because jino was just that nosy.

with a better understanding of the situation, jino leaves the set on the day of retakes, not upset, but tired. finally feeling the fatigue of long nights and prolonged schedules taking its toll on him. 

when he had thought that his endurance had been something to applaud — here it is, showing him that his endurance was as weak as a brittle tree branch. feeling its affects after a long day as he falls to his bed without even washing his face or fixing himself a quick dinner — one of two things he had said this year he was going to be better at. 

“for my first project, honestly, it was kind of an experience. i don’t want to say it was good or bad — because it wasn’t anything like that. i’ve never really been on a filming set of this magnitude,” or of any magnitude at all, outside of the variety shows he’s been in. and those were far different than this by a feat. “so, to see everyone’s hard work get trashed was kind of upsetting. a lot of time and effort went into filming and i don’t want to say harsh things about her — since i don’t know the actress well nor do i know the situation as firsthand as she does — so it’s not really my place to say anything about that. it just sucks that a lot of time was wasted, but it’s okay — that’s what the reshoots were for, right? to make up for all that.”

he tries to be optimist, as a non-bystander bystander. because even though he wasn’t one of the main roles, their manager had asked them what his thoughts were and jino was always one to be honest, first and foremost. 

“if i was in a scandal like that?” he nearly spits out a laugh in disbelief — not that he can imagine himself in such a scandal, he can, but he thinks its far too early before anyone would be paying that much attention on him. “i guess i’d lay low — there’s no use fighting the fire. especially with netizen culture these days, they just jump onto any new thing and it goes crazy. like i said — fighting fire is just useless, that’s how you get burned.”

jino’s never been burned before, and  he hopes that he never will.

( but knowing himself — it was probably wise to devise a plan in advance for any mishaps  )

“would saying being an honest to you be a cop-out answer?” he laughs, trying to lighten the mood. the seriousness of the conversation prickling his skin in a way that he isn’t quite used to — especially not when he had just gotten used to having a manager. “i’m not sure how you’d avoid a scandal, especially not when you don’t really know just what could be scandalizing. society nowadays can be an enigma, y’know — never really know what’ll get them talking next. but for now, i want to promise you that i will never get in a scandal ....” then he quickly adds, "that you won't know beforehand."

oh, how optimistic — how naive; oh, how much you still need to learn moon jino. 

[cosmooverthemoon]

Desert Songs

The sun warmed my skin as it fell upon the earth in fractured rays. Sand pulled at my feet, begging me to join their choir, the soft whispering pulling at my ears. Stubby, dead grass tickled my toes. Rocks cast strange shadows on the sand, great hulking beasts in the sky, shifting and changing with the wind. The clouds reached for the earth, their misty tendrils clinging to my calves, and brushing my face with its soothing touch. At night the moon clung to the sand dunes, hanging so low in the sky I sometimes felt that I could touch it, if only I could reach.

Rhya came to me amidst the howling winds of a sandstorm, emerging from the swirling sand. She held me close as we turned our backs to the biting sands. The sand bit at us as it howled and swirled with vicious intensity. The dust stuck in our throats and we gasped for every breath. It felt like the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth was her strong grip. Slowly the winds abated, the dust and sand settling back into the dunes.

She whispered her name to me with a soft voice, blending in to the songs of the sand as the dunes shifted endlessly. She looked at me with golden eyes, her dark skin crinkling in the corner of her eyes as she smiled at me. Her wild dark hair clung to her face, curly and untamed. As we stared at each other, she threw her head back and laughed at the sky. Laughed in the sheer joy of existence, and I couldn’t help but laugh with her.

She followed me as I wandered, the days slipping away quietly. Everywhere we went we encountered decay. It seemed nothing was left alive on this world except for us. The remains of trees dotted the landscape, their bare, twisted branches reaching towards the sky. What rocks remained on the ground were winding spires or jagged ridges jutting out of the ground as if trying to escape the sand. Ruins littered the ground, and the skies. Rocky platforms drifted in the wind, upon them sat broken cathedrals, pieces of palaces, or indistinguishable piles of ornately decorated rubble.

One day we climbed on the remains of a giant. Its bones had long since turned to stone, its hollow eye sockets still staring at the sky. Red dust coated our hands as we scaled its skulls and watched the wind play with the sand from atop its flat head. As we watched rocks floating in the sky, and the clouds creeping along the ground, something stirred in me, rising from the depths, a forgotten feeling. I asked her for the first time “who are you?”

She looked at me, her golden eyes peering into my soul, the color shifting like the dunes during the sunrise. I could see thoughts swirling behind her eyes, but her face gave away nothing. She gave me a strange look, “that’s not the question you should be asking.” She offered nothing else, turning her gaze once again to the desert, but her usual soft smile was absent.

We remained silent the rest of the night, my head resting on her shoulder. The sun slowly sank in the sky, her rays reaching for the sand as it rose to meet her. As the sky darkened, the stars started to cautiously poke their shining heads out in the veil of darkness, glittering in the sky. The moon dominated the horizon, full and heavy. The stars filled the rest of the sky, packing close together as they fought for space.

“Sneaky little things” she chuckled to herself, “they would never dare to be so nosy if the sun was looking.”

She laid down, putting her hands behind her head and closing her eyes. I laid beside her, but I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away from the sky. The longer I looked the more I felt a memory floating in my mind just out of reach. Grief and longing settled in my chest as I fought to remember why. When I finally fell asleep my dreams haunted me. Memories played over and over; their contents still lost in the fog of forgotten things.

The next day I woke up to Rhya standing at the edge of the skull, staring into the desert. Slowly one of the ruined cathedrals drifted lazily closer and closer to the rock. She turned to look at me, a strange gleam in her eye as she held her hand out to me, preparing to jump aboard. I walked to her side, watching the hulking mass inch closer as if drawn to us. Just as she was about to jump, fear struck me with an intensity I’d never felt before.

Without thinking I grabbed her arm to stop her. She looked at me with a strange expression on her face, and I had no explanation for her, only the deep sense of dread that told my bones to run away and never look back. The same dread that encircled my dreams. She yanked her arm from my grip and jumped, landing lightly on the rocky platform. Just as fast as my fear came it left me, making me question if I ever felt it at all. I quickly followed her, just barely making the jump as the cathedral drifted slowly off into the desert.

The cathedral was broken beyond repair. Pieces of its golden, ornate walls hung in the air. The elaborate stained windows were shattered and scattered on the floor. As we entered the broken building the dust scattered from our feet, scurrying into the corners, watching us from the darkness. With every step into the main chamber memories my memories became clearer, fighting to reach the front of my consciousness.

We neared the altar in the center of the cathedral, the great domed ceiling letting in blazing fragments of sunlight through its fragmented remains. The altar had a crack right through the middle, splitting it in two. I wandered to the walls, running my hands along the dusty murals. When I reached the wall directly behind the mural my eyes rested on a mural that I had never seen before, but it felt so familiar. Memories started to swirl faster and faster, bringing with them more emotions than I could name.

“Do you remember” Rhya asked, coming up behind me and making me jump.

“I can’t” I said, fear and longing dominating the swirling storm in my head. My mind fought to push everything back down and sink back into the peace of ignorance, “It hurts too much.”

She appeared at my side, her golden eyes burning with an intensity I’d never seen before. She held my head in her hands, her voice commanded my attention, cutting through my swirling memories, “Remember. Remember where you came from. Remember what you are.”

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice hoarse with the effort of keeping my tears from spilling out.

“That’s not the right question.”

“Who am I?” I asked hesitantly. All this time I had forgotten, my identity scattered and fragmented as I wandered the endless sandy wasteland. The longer I wandered the less I remembered of before. I forgot there ever was a before.

Rhya smiled at me, guiding my eyes to the sky, through the gaps in the ceiling I could see the sun racing across the sky at her command, rushing towards the horizon, the stars revealing themselves in all their brilliant glory. And at once everything came flooding back to me. Before the Rhya, before the desert, before this body and this reality, I was amongst the stars.

I watched the infinite heavens take shape, unfolding and growing in the chaotic fervor of creation. I remembered when my mind could make sense of the tangled, intricate, muddled threads of reality. I remembered now, how I came to be on this planet. My soul was ripped from my celestial form and put me in this mortal prison, tying me to this world against my will. My prison brought into existence in the very cathedral we stood in.

I looked at Rhya, and I felt tears roll down my cheeks, “why?”

It was the only question I could muster; I had a thousand thoughts and questions racing by in my mind, but that word was at the center of them.

“Hubris,” Rhya responded, “It killed them in the end. Their sun would never forgive them for their betrayal, for turning their backs on her beauty and admiring another.”

We walked hand and hand out of the cathedral, into the blazing sunlight, the platform descending as Rhya pulled us towards the ground. When we stepped back onto the sandy dunes, it drifted back into the sky. As she watched the cathedral float back into the sky to resume its drifting, I heard her sniffle softy to herself, tears building in her eyes.

“This is the end for us, isn’t it.” I said, holding her hand as we stared at the horizon.

She wiped her tears away quickly, trying to put on her usual smile, but when our eyes met I could feel her grief. “It was always going to end this way. You never belonged here. I knew from the moment they bound you here, from the moment I found you, from the moment I fell in love. I thought maybe you would forget, that we could just wander forever, but then you started to remember. I could never keep you here.” Sadness line her face, her voice wavering as she spoke, “When you leave, I will never stop mourning the loss of your company.”

I wiped her tears away and brushed her hair behind her ear, “the pain doesn’t erase the love we had, for the joy we felt when we were together. Each second I spent in your company was worth more than grief could ever take away from me. If I hurt for a thousand years it would have been worth it to spend even a moment with you.”  

We laid down on the dunes, our hands entwined, watching the stars. I felt myself start to slip away. My soul reaching for the heavens, bit by bit leaving my mortal body behind. As my vision faded, I looked once more into her eyes and asked “who are you?”

With a small smile she brushed my face with her fingers and said “darling you already know.”

The last thing I saw on that planet was Rhya returning to the desert, her body turning to sand drifting away in the wind just as she had come. I returned once more to my celestial form, grief laid heavy in my soul as I settled back into my place in the tapestry of the universe and turned my gaze once more towards the beautiful and endless edge of creation.

Back on that little desert planet Rhya brought the rain to my body, the clouds gathering around my chest, and when the sun broke through the haze her rays fell upon a seedling sprouting from my chest. It’s green leaves shining bright against the endless golden dunes.

In time life would take over once again, slowly, bit by bit, that little planet rebuilt itself and life carried on, blissfully unaware of its brush with extinction. Sometimes, in the cover of darkness, hiding from the wrath of its sun, I watched and remembered. Somewhere on that little planet, every night Rhya looked up at the stars. For the briefest of moments our eyes met and we smiled at each other and laughed in the sheer joy of existence.

[rabidwerewolfie]

"Why do you need to get a large group of people together? Answer you don't"

Because it's what people do. A small group or family can probably do fine, but humans are herd animals and like to socialize. Also "there's safety in numbers" is a natural instinct. So unless you practice some form of isolation, you're going to get a mass of people together.

"The first thing they do actually is build a home and figure out how to be sustained and profit from the land"

I know reality TV is NOT reality, but it's the most convenient example I can think of at this moment. SO!! On shows like Survivor or Naked And Fearless, you throw strangers together. The first thing they do is figure out who is in charge, even if it's only for the moment, THEN they work on shelter.

It's not always democratic, either, sometimes it's just the first person to speak up and go "Ok, so here's what we need to do." Hell, I've even seen it in my own neighborhood. We have a neighborhood association, not QUITE a HOA but something along those lines. When something needs to be done, whether it's clearing trees after a hurricane or planning a holiday event, the first order of business is figuring out who is in charge. Everything else follows form there.

"Being in charge is only a lot of work if you are too involved in things you have no business being involved in."

Once again, going to use the example of my neighborhood assoc. The president of our association is very busy with work, family issues, and is NOT in the best of health, but because he's the one in charge, he's also expected to be available any time anyone needs ANYTHING.

He helps maintain our dirt roads, so he also has to run the tractor. He's mostly a live and let live type of guy, the type you WANT in charge, not a nosy busybody who likes to powertrip on micromanaging, but he's still pretty busy with (pardon the term) governing affairs. And we're a pretty small community with half the population being snowbirds who aren't even around for most of the year.

"Without a government I don't need to make sure a leader is "having all their needs met" so their decisions will be good because their decisions wont drastically and negatively impact my life if they are bad. Sorry but meeting all the needs of a leader is some slave cult leader shit."

True. But you know it's what happens anyway. YOU PERSONALLY may not see the value of keeping the leader, whatever title he or she wears, free from mundane distractions, but it's still part of the power creep. "How can I be effective if I have to spend SO much time worrying about keeping my lights on and my kids fed? I need these needs met before I can focus on making sure our community thrives." And so people will contribute towards his electric bill or bring him food, and the next thing you know, it goes from being a favor to an expectation that no one bothers to question.

Don't insult my intelligence by saying it never happens that way just because YOU would resist it and tell him to get a job like any normal slob. It's not brain-washing, it's how traditions form. Good and bad.

"Everything you said after we're a quarralsome bunch is only true under the state. Because we have been brainwashed into believing the state is an arbiter and solver of all our problems…and because the state restricts us from our own conflict resolution people have come to think of the state as customer service but for people."

Blood feuds are not a product of Big Government. Wars are not a government exclusive activity. We ALL know about the Hatfields and the McCoys, don't we? Hell, even Chimpanzees have been discovered to wage war on each other.

Mob justice can work in some cases, but then you hang an innocent person. Everyone feels guilty about it. Someone says "Hey, we need a way to keep this from ever happening again."

Our current situation did not pop up overnight like mushrooms after a rain storm, it happens step by step. A little at a time over time until you get SOME form of government. It comes from ordinary people demanding SOMETHING be done about SOME situation they don't like.

Do I think people SHOULD be free to govern themselves n whatever manner they choose? Yes. Absolutely. And if you can find a way to do that, great! But Anarchy as a system is simply not sustainable with a large population. Which CURRENTLY EXISTS!! If you're not for population reduction then you have to deal with what is, not what you wish existed.

So even if you could snap your fingers and magically make every single politicization, bureaucrat, member of royalty, and every other authority figure poof into nonexistence and make people forget that they were ever part of such a social hierarchy while changing nothing else that you didn't want changed, how long do you think it would take before SOMEONE rises right back into power through whatever means?

How do you convince people they don't want this individual in power if he or she happens to be some sort of respected figure seen as wise and benevolent? "You can rule yourself." doesn't work against "Sure, but so and so makes a lot of sense. I'll take their advice." Which eventually evolves into "We have to listen to So and So because they know better."

Yes, there are some people who are more independent minded and should be allowed to do their own thing but most people simply are not.

The rest of your points basically fall under the same answers.

Conservatives: "I believe in government because I don't have faith in people. Which is why I want a government made up of people I have no faith in to have control over things they would not have without the state."

See I mock but it's actually worse than that, it's not just that it makes no sense to not believe people can take care of themselves but to believe they can take care of a government that takes care of everyone...that would be stupid enough....but the government is actively made up of the worst of the worst people. The dumbest, most psychotic and sociopathic mother fuckers in the world run every government in the world. And they support that because they have no faith that you are too incompetent and shitty to be trusted with freedom. And of course they beleive all of this while also believing they support freedom.

[sandsorghum]

"Fake Dating" With the JJK Crew

Happy april fools!here's the ultimate prank of deceiving your family :p

Maybe you have a family reunion with nosy relatives coming up, or a wedding where having a minus -1 would invite too many of the same questions you're exhausted explaining or providing excuses for.

So, you resort to asking a massive favour of them; Will you be my pretend boy/girlfriend?

Here's how they'd react - and act! Listed in order of who is most to least enthusiastic about accepting your pitch:

How they respond to your request

Honestly when you brought the event up the the plan hadn't even popped into your head, Satoru was the one to suggest it

You'd just mentioned it as a casual topic of conversation, scrolling through your phone, shopping for shoes to match your outfit

"Yeah, I have this wedding next month and I still need-"

"A plus one? Count me in! Text me the date and time."

You laugh it off as another one of his jokes of course

but this is exactly the kind of opportunity for shenanigans Satoru won't give up

so he keeps badgering you for the details over the week, till you finally give in

if nothing else, he'd provide some entertainment right?

What's the worse that could happen? Oh boy...

Their performance

"Really Satoru? Was the helicopter actually necessary?"

"Absolutely!"

"Half the tables had to pick sand out of their salads."

"Tsk, catering didn't do a good job cleaning the kale leaves then."

Naturally Gojo pulls out all the stops, not knowing his limits

It works though, your relatives are super impressed with his grand entrance on the beach

Maybe he did need such an ostentatious mode of transport, since he's delivering close to 50 things on the couple's registry, and some other stuff not on the list he figures newlyweds could use

(The 4 poster bed will get here later, he tells the baffled bride)

And because it's Satoru, he's not content to settle for a simple story of how you met through work

No, it has to be a convoluted plot of corporate espionage, rivaling tycoons and you caught in the middle of it all

It's too outlandish, but he sells it with his azure, glinting eyes and in his powder-blue velvet Versace suit

"It's gotta be so bizarre they have no choice but to believe it!"

People are too enchanted to really pay any attention to the details

And hey, maybe you're an accomplice with the sapphires dripping around your neck, those he insisted on decking you out with, telling you they were specially pulled from his family vaults

The jewelry doesn't dazzle half as much as him though, obviously

The bridesmaids (and some of the groomsmen too) are swooning and swarming all over Satoru, causing you to roll your eyes at how predictable he's being, with those half slid-down sunglasses

You are surprised by the bouquet that drops into your lap suddenly, having refused to participate in the rush - even out of obligatory observations of the custom.

But in the corner of your eye you'd spotted a fleck of white, long-limbed and triumphant amongst the tittering, applauding women

"What are you doing? I will kneecap you if you keep these antics up" you hiss, seeing him start to bend down. "Today of all days, she'll slaughter me if you try to steal her thund-"

"Relax, princess. Ya know I don't get the whole craze of monogamy"

Your gaze drifts to the gaggle of giggling women peeking at him from behind a palm tree. Probably ogling his ass as he intentionally dawdles over his laces.

"Evidently. Better not to keep your harem waiting then." You tilt the stem of your wine glass back. A 2014 Sauvignon Blanc, dryer than it is sweet. Your lips purse.

Satoru smirks, standing up to pluck a single hyacinth blossom from the bouquet. You don't know which you're more startled by, the plush of its petals whispering by the shell of your ear, or the brief tenderness of his touch as he tucks a wisp of your hair behind the flower, lush and verdant.

"Just as I thought," Satoru muses, "Blue suits you much better than green."

How they respond to your request

Was pretty surprised (and flattered!) that you'd ask him

but he's a little worried cause he doesn't have the best poker face

"You don't really need to lie. Just fall back on our natural chemistry, we're already good friends aren't we?"

Yuji knows that's definitely something he can rely on, but still feels rather nervous when the actual date of the New Year reunion dinner arrives! Hopefully none of your relatives will notice anything awkward about this pretend dynamic...

Their performance

Yuji needn't have worried! Your family loves him

especially your youngest nephews and nieces

They take to him because he doesn't pander and puts up his best fight against them in Mario Kart (even beats them in a few races)

Your aunts adore him because he makes himself so useful in the kitchen, helping them lift all the heavy items and doing the more finicky prep work

In no time at all they've flocked around him in a fuss, getting him to taste sauces and creams and bites of various culinary concoctions

charmingly honest too

"I think it could use a bit more salt!"

I've never had this before so I don't know what it ought to taste like"

"It's still a bit chewy, maybe a couple more minutes? But you're the expert here!"

very good-natured, takes it all in his stride, including all the spoons constantly shoveling food at him

you're finally able to rescue him for a couple of minutes, just long enough to tell him you think he looks cute in that frilly apron

Yuji's bright bashful grin has you wondering if you can compel him to come over to your kitchen next weekend, to test out your aunt's jealously guarded chicken pot pie recipe (that she'd been all too enthusiastic to reveal to him!)

How they respond to your request

Suguru's super amused at how anxious you are when you ask him

Would pretend to mull it over for a few minutes, acting like he needs to be convinced, to see how bad you want him

he's basically fishing for compliments but you list out the reasons for why you think he'll be great at this role anyway

it might almost sound like you're admitting he's your actual type

be careful that he doesn't catch on or he'll tease you relentlessly

Mischief aside, Suguru comes up with the most legitimate backstory and contingencies on how to field suspicious questions

Their performance

It's that languid confidence which convinces practically everyone at the gathering

it's easy and comfortable, how he takes your hand and rubs his thumb along yours, when it seems like no one is watching (though Suguru's observant about the pairs of eyes you don't spot, he tells you Subtlety sells the story all the more)

You wonder if it's almost too easy and comfortable

Especially when one of your nosier cousins abruptly interrogates him about what sparked his attraction to you in the first place, and Suguru is absolutely ready with his reply, tone unwavering

He only pauses slightly as if thinking through his options, before smoothly answering, with the perfect amount of wistful reticence, as if these details are too personal to share:

"Well...it's hard to say, I was kinda spoiled for choice with them."

Suguru's charisma is almost in excess. Now you're worried that no one in your family will believe you landed someone this smooth

Well, smooth apart from the minor hiccup of him deciding to confront one of your uncles about their conspiracy theories

with an even weirder/dumber conspiracy theory

Eg, "You believe the moon landings were faked? Wait - you believe in the moon? You know that's not real, right?"

It's a guilty pleasure, witnessing the way Suguru makes gaslighting this gaping moron an art

You'll find yourself fascinated, entranced like a moth to the flames...

How they respond to your request

It's not one you remember making, entirely

maybe you mentioned it in passing on one of those gin-soaked nights Mei Mei is so fond of

you'd been bemoaning the banality of your online matches and she was surprisingly sympathetic

"When you're so out of everyone's league it hardly makes playing the game any fun. Or worth it."

"Ah well, I think that rather applies more to you Mei, than me. I'm still relatable. Weirdoes still find me approachable, somehow."

Their performance

Exactly how approachable, you find out when she turns up 3 hours before the wedding on your doorstep, dressed like she's attending the Met Gala

She tosses you something sheathed in black satin, the fabric of the protective cover feeling more exquisite and expensive than the combined cost of your whole wardrobe

"Get changed. The make-up artist will be here in five."

You try to protest of course, but this works about just as well when you decline her invitations for a night out on the town. If you don't go to meet her, she brings the bar to you

You're not sure what Mei Mei is planning to unleash on you tonight but the limousine's leather seats feel too good

The bride is beautiful and blessed, even Mei Mei's glamour won't turn her new husband's head

but you can feel both their families glaring daggers at the two of you all evening

There's no way they'll buy Mei Mei being your partner with how she's flaunting poise, elegance and erudition

One of the in-laws leans over, the bourbon harsh on his breath.

He's drunk enough to have a terrible estimation of decibels. "Where'd you get an escort like her? And how many months of yer paycheck did you waste?"

Mei Mei tosses him a withering look, "Please, they'd have to take out a loan."

You choke at her comeback, flabbergasted with the scarlet scrambling to your face, unable to expel an explanation or apology

You've been pretty liberal with the Chardonnay all evening (to help with your nerves) but you feel it all flood to your cheeks, ameliorating effects dissipating in Mei Mei's messy kiss, launched directly against your lips

She pulls back to admire the shine and flush of your complexion, commenting, "They could never afford me, even if they slaved away for a hundred lifetimes. But I'd still be drawn to y/n in each of them. Obviously they bought me over with their unique charm alone."

How they respond to your request

She thinks it sounds like a waste of time till you let slip it's a destination wedding (tickets & accommodations covered)

You see her eyes shine with dreams of visiting the boutique malls that line the streets there

but she tempers her gruff tone to imitate grudging acceptance

"Fine, there's this super cute dress I wanted to get more wear out of anyway. And you'll owe me something too!"

Their performance

It is indeed a super cute dress. You tell her this and you're surprised to see her slight blush. It accentuates her features and it's then you realise how long she must have spent on her make-up too

And that outfit is that much cuter now with how its wearer is just a tad high-strung

Nobara's not very good at ad-libbing so she keeps floating random, increasingly ridiculous hypotheticals about the kinds of questions she'll have to field

it's practically a couple's quiz

"Who confessed first, you or me?"

"What's your blood type?"

"What's your favourite colour?"

"When's our anniversary date?"

"What was the weather like when we had our first kiss?"

"Have we talked about exe's?"

You laugh and reassure her that you won't leave her side all day if she's that worried, squeezing her sweaty hand

She doesn't let go

In the end, the nervousness radiating like shockwaves off Nobara works in her favour

Even if her answers come off somewhat awkward, your family assumes she's just anxious about making a good first impression!

How they respond to your request

"Just don't go at all then, if you're going to be uncomfortable alone. Why would you hang out with people who judge you for that sort of stupid thing?"

Ngl, convincing Megumi is gonna be an uphill battle, he can be super stubborn

Even if you tell him there's absolutely nobody else you want as your +1, unfortunately flattery won't get you very far

Strangely enough, your best odds of him acquiescing are once you've given up, and he sees how crestfallen you are

Why does he put up with such ridiculous requests?

He'll never admit it but he has quite the soft spot for you

Their performance

He's determined to stick.to.the.script as much as possible

But all it takes is one hyper inquisitive aunt for the plan to fall apart

Megumi's practically monosyllabic answers don't help much either

"Where did you two meet!"

"School."

"And who asked who out?"

"Her."

"Ooh and what did y'all do for the first date?"

"Eat lunch."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

You can see smoke spiraling out of your nosy relative's ear canals as they wrack their brain for a way to pry more info from your perfectly stoic partner

"What attracted you to them?"

You spot how Megumi stiffens, eyes darting about frantically for an ad-lib, foot determined to drill a hole in the ground.

You've seen him try and he's terrible at it, he can't lie!

He takes a deep breath

Oh no

"Lots."

What?

"Lots?" The bemused inflection of your aunt's echo demands an elaboration

He nods once.

"Her nose. Smile. Wits. Trustworthiness..." Megumi mutters, decibels dropping with each description, his voice taking on an inverse relationship between volume and sincerity

He can't lie, you remember, the realisation compounded by Megumi ever so carefully avoiding your gaze

In turn, you'll do him the courtesy of not noticing - or mentioning - the reddened tips of his ears

for now.

How they respond to your request

"You'd make a liar out of me."

Nanami's tone is flat, but the fractional tilt of his brow substitutes a rhetorical inflection.

"Well - No, not technically. They never stipulate that the plus one must be a romantic partner."

"But that is the common understanding."

"A common misunderstanding. Minor details, Nanami. Details are-"

"Wherein the devil lies."

A fist notches against your hip. "Right, because all your relatives know exactly why your insurance premiums are so high."

"Omission is different from deliberate deceit. Besides, those situations are avoidable. Which is why-"

"Well, we can't all be serial skippers of family gatherings. You ever consider some people might not want to miss out consecutive weddings and birthdays? Being a sorcerer makes for shit enough work-life balance already. On a weekend that I'm finally free too-"

You stop yourself, having a realisation in the middle of your grumbling.

"I'm sorry, it's selfish of me. I suppose you might have plans already, and I didn't even ask."

Nanami, unfazed, turns to the financial section of his newspaper, remarking, "You're making this request three months in advance."

"Well, I dunno. You take your leisure time really seriously right? You've probably regimented your weekends to get to know a certain sourdough starter better." You grin at Nanami, playfully flicking a corner of his broadsheet.

"Rye, actually." This time his voice is so level you'd bet Nanami has that plan penciled and underlined in his calendar.

"I get it, yeast is expensive. I wouldn't want you to get behind schedule," you sigh. "It's fine, I'll take a gamble and ask Gojo again. I just hope my cousin doesn't turn up, she's been texting me constantly about why he won't return her calls."

"If you're thinking of asking Gojo, you're not taking a gamble. You've already lost."

"Thanks for the helpful advice."

"The man is a walking grenade of shamelessness."

"I'd say Strutting, but my options are limited. Almost everyone in jujutsu is a ticking bomb. At least this one owns a limo. And can dance."

Nanami pauses mid-flip of his page, glancing up. "Almost?"

"Yeah, well, there's me." Your thumb sticks out toward yourself, before your index extends. "And then there's you. And..."

Nanami stares at your fingers. All two of them, to be precise.

You shrug, folding them back into your fist. "That's about it, really."

Nanami doesn't say anything, scanning headlines.

The cogs aren't turning, you're sure only your heart is whirring

You count the 30 clicks of the second hand creeping across his watch, if only to convince yourself an hour isn't passing.

His own expression rivals the clock face's neutral calculations.

Suddenly, Nanami stands.

Your shoulders sag - so much for your bet.

Then he says, "It'll be a rental."

He tucks the newspaper under his arm, and firmly pushes those gaze-obscuring spectacles up his sharp nose, before adding, "And I don't dance."

Their performance

"Nanami?" You try to rein in your gasp at the last moment, yanking the syllables back so it pitches high into a startled greeting.

"You're-" Your throat feels parched, despite your mouth watering all of a sudden. You swallow the pool, forcing the tide back down. "You're early."

A blessing, really. You could use every single extra second to soak in the sight before you. Nanami's opted for a three piece suit in Prussian blue for the occasion, definitely custom-made to order.

Your eyes roam from the perfectly fit jacket accentuating the slope of his broad shoulders, sweeping over the double-breasted plunge of those peaked lapels that draw your gaze down across his pronounced pectorals. The plush of them is barely obscured, further emphasized in fact, by the cut of his vest and the taut expanse of white, his sternum arching in parallel with a Murrell knotted tie the colour of carbon steel grey. Single-pleated pants hug his hips, seams tapering past those muscled thighs. It's not like you intended to linger there on his lower half, but with the way Nanami's tucked his hands into his pockets, your eyes can't help but flicker between the bulges.

The impeccable craftsmanship of the tailor was one thing, but the way Nanami wore this suit was something else.

You had thought he'd show up, sophisticated if understated as ever, just to play another role, in a slightly smarter uniform.

Nanami Kento always carried himself with composure and class - could even stake his reputation on those traits, but his deportment was distinctly different this evening. Was he standing a little taller? Were his eyes always this razor blade-bright?

There's a flash of silver before you hear Nanami's voice, snatching you from your stupor.

"And you're ready." His pause is briefer than yours, though you feel a similar weight (and warmth perhaps?) scanning your silhouette, snugly embraced by your evening gown. Then it's gone, falling back on his clock face.

"Excellent," he states, after clearing his throat. You suspect he's praising more than your punctuality - but you never dared to assume, not with Nanami.

"Shall we?" he extends his elbow and you grasp it gratefully, getting an opportunistic squeeze around his accentuated biceps.

If Nanami noticed, he made no comment.

Nanami's performance is of course, as precise and impeccable as you predicted, demonstrating exactly why you picked him in the first place

He's courteous, considerate and charming in his own reserved way, with his shrewd, measured and realistic responses to your uncles' concerns about the stock market, coupled with his cleverly deft deflections of your aunts' more prying inquisitions about your love life.

Though you both rehearsed the answers, his responses come off more sincere than scripted or stilted.

But mostly it's his presence that speaks volumes

It's in his mannerisms straight out of a 1950s etiquette guide, how he pulls doors open and chairs out first for your relatives and then you, or refills glasses before anyone asks, and never lets his palm drift lower than the small of your back as the two of you move between rooms and ceremonies (whether you wish it would or not is entirely a matter of discretion between you and your fifth scotch)

But what impresses everyone the most is when he convinces your 10 year old nephew - who for the entirety of his existence has declared war on vegetables - to touch his cauliflower florets, and finish them. Nanami somehow even encourages him to use chopsticks the correct way

His awe-struck parents approach Nanami, voices hushed with reverence. "How on earth did you compel that fussy tyrant to put those on his tongue!"

"I simply informed him of the consequences of a predominantly dessert-based diet." You can't help but grin observing your brother's profuse gratitude and profound respect as he shakes Nanami's hand, and at how your sister-in-law eagerly takes notes from Nanami about preparing salads to appeal to junior palates.

The rest of the celebration flies by. Nanami hovers by you, floating cordially between catch-ups and conversations as if the dynamic is one the two of you have shared for years, as if he's on auto-pilot

The only thing that remotely resembles a crisis is when he has a curious turn of phrase, a slight slip of the tongue.

It's in the vestiges of pink tinting his visage when you address him and he absently answers "Yes, sweetheart" causing your cousins to titter. He excuses himself to the toilet; it's the sole fracture in his facade the entire evening.

You're only slightly caught off guard when the gaggle swarms you, gushing envy and clamouring for the contacts of any of your other attractive, available co-workers. One of them even declares their determination to break into your industry, which you dismiss with a chuckle and complaint about the compensation and work hours.

"Really? But based off Nanami's cuff links alone...he seems in a different tax bracket than most of us combined."

One of your older cousins gasps melodramatically, "I didn't take you for a gold digger! I thought your parents raised you better."

You roll your eyes, ignoring her mockery. "I'm not."

Another, barely out of adolescence pipes up, "Man, they don't make sugar daddies like they used to."

"Nanami's not my sugar daddy."

"Just your regular daddy then?"

You're too flabbergasted by the explosives guffaws to provide a retaliatory flick to the little smartarse's forehead.

"Care to repeat the punchline?" His level voice cleaves through a chorus of cleared throats as your cousins pretend to scatter or sip on their drinks.

"Nanami-san, is it normal for salarymen to expense escorts? I was just wondering how you can afford to pay h-"

"Ow, shit!" You stumble forward against Nanami's chest, his arms already open to stabilize you - but your hand is already threateningly clamped around your younger cousin's shoulder.

"Sorry, it's these heels," you hiss, not relinquishing your savage grip on the brat who's now squirming uncomfortably.

"Let's take a seat over there then," Nanami says, slipping a strong arm around your waist and guiding you away. You crane your head just past his broad shoulders to glare daggers at your cousin, even as they stick out their tongue and make exaggerated smooching faces at your retreat.

"Your ankles aren't swollen at least," he comments, lifting your legs into his lap. You flush as you feel his fingers glide up your calves, pressing firmly along the muscle to test for unwarranted tension.

"Um...Yeah, I think my feet fell asleep, that's all." You wiggle your toes before slowly rotating your ankles about an inch from the apex of Nanami's strong thighs.

"Probably just need to move them a little." Nanami hums a low note of agreement as he carefully lowers your feet back on the ground, before standing and offering you an open palm. You glance up at him, puzzled.

He tilts his head toward the wide open area beneath the pavilion, where a throng of people are drifting back and forth, in pairs, to a mid-tempo melody.

"Let's move them, then. Just a little," Nanami tacks on those words like a caveat, but you beam at him, accepting his hand and the promise folded into his warm palms.

"You said you don't dance."

"I don't." His fingers curve around your hips, subtle as the smirk that isn't etched at the corners of his lips, you're sure. But then, you feel his forearm flex against your spine, like a strong bough fording the meanders of a river, and you're swept off by the undercurrent.

"What do you call this then?" you whisper as he twirls you effortlessly in his arms.

"Swaying...in time."

"Well. You're a pretty good sway-er, Nanami Kento."

He doesn't respond, but his puff of warmth against your nape cushions your quip as the two of you fall into comfortable silence and synchronised steps.

You feel the sculpted swell of his torso, every corded sinew so often taut with the exertion and extortion demanded by your duties. You map those muscles, so familiar with tension, so foreign to the tenderness of your fingertips. Flitting between daring and diplomacy, they trace the topography of his tendons, the tributaries of veins pulsing with potentially crushing strength.

Yet you can only concentrate on how gently Nanami's clasped your hand to his chest, weathered palms wrapping around your fingers to press against granite and the steady pounding beneath it.

"You really have swayed me," you murmur, eyes focusing on how slowly Nanami slides his thumb along your ridges. "I'm going to need to start swiping through those apps again."

You feel Nanami pull away slightly from you to observe the expression that accompanies your resigned sigh. "Apps?"

Your gaze drifts over his shoulder, to the couples drifting and floating in each other's arms, from the wrinkled smiles crinkling rheumy eyes to the broad grins, youthfully uncreased, shared and tucked between lips as snug as letters in a crisp envelop.

"It...could be nice, having something beyond a facade. Beyond functions," you muse. You sense Nanami tilt his head to track your line of sight, pausing briefly before commenting.

"Well,I'm glad you at least found my deception serviceable tonight."

You chuckle at Nanami's wry self-assessment, rolling your eyes.

"Oh please, Mr Benchmark, you'll have me swiping for weeks."

"Hm, or months."

Your mouth drops open at his retort, and you see your own surprise glittering in Nanami's neutral countenance with its almost perfectly impassive stare; blank enough anyway to reflect your amusement.

"Sure, it'll be tough enough finding a more constant companion that matches your caliber - minus the attitude," you tease. Nanami's lips set into a thin straight line, and there's a suspicion of his fingers twitching against your sides, specifically at the mention of more constant companion.

"Besides, I can hardly keep troubling straitlaced Nanami every time I need a partner for these escapades."

He doesn't reply - which you think rather proves your point.

But you don't know that what's really starting to bother Nanami is how he doesn't find that prospect troublesome...at all.

The ride back to your apartment is quiet. You can tell Nanami is a little worn out by all the socialising and polite smiling, so you're content to recline in the backseat with him, letting your silences settle against each other.

Between the thrum of the engine and the free flow alcohol throughout the evening, your eyelids droop shut.

A dream like haze stretches the minutes into hours, like cotton gauze pulled into loose fibers fogging your mind with sensations of swirling, a light tickling and comforting warmth. The sole distinct thing that feels solid are calloused hands cupping your cheek and drifting tentatively across the dip of your back. Strangely real as well, the vapours of cognac and a hypnotic heartbeat pillowed beneath you, steadily rising and falling and rising again

You perhaps hear someone call your name through the mist, but any identifying texture of their voice is swallowed. You strain to hear them, but there's only their pause, patient and pensive almost.

But then you hear it again, this time with a weight upon your shoulder that rouses you.

An almost familiar face flickers into view, as you shake the dregs of some odd subconscious yearning from your mind.

But even as it clears, Nanami's face still seems strange at this distance, as if distorted - for it is barely any distance at all. You've never seen him up close like this; forehead too broad, thin brows too furrowed, eyes too deep set and large and dark.

"Hey."

You feel the whiskey-soaked whisper gust against your cupid's bow even before it registers in your ears. His mouth looks different too, chapped and parted around an ask he can't verbalise. It's on the tip of his tongue, darting anxiously out to wet his lips.

Instead those soft pink folds shape around your syllables again, stirring something in you. Curiosity, you'll call it later, an unbearable itch. You will taste his unspoken request if he won't allow you to hear it. All it would take is a fractional tilt of your head

But then Nanami stiffens in an instant, shifts away in the next and you feel yourself sliding against silky material. He braces you as you break fully from the stupor, realising your cheek is crushed against his lapel, where a small patch of damp spreads.

"Oh god, Nanami. Your suit, I'm sorry!" you sputter, covering your mouth.

"No it's all right, that's cognac. Courtesy of one of your more ebullient aunts."

"Really?" you sniff, skeptical, though your nostrils corroborate his dismissal with a whiff of alcohol.

Nanami nods, opening the car door. "Yes. Now come, let's get you home where you've got something more comfortable to drool on."

"I still feel like I should apologise on their behalf," you say sheepishly, fidgeting outside your apartment. Hesitantly you reach out to smooth your hand across his jacket, fingers flexing with the muscle memory of his firm swells beneath the fabric.

"Let me take care of the dry-cleaning bill. I'll get it back to you in three days. The guy in my neighbourhood is really quick."

Nanami shakes his head, a wry smile tilting his lips. "There's no rush, I'm hardly in high demand as a fake lover. Well, in the first place, there's no need for a dry. I can handle my own laundry."

"A fake lover" The words echo in your mind as your gaze roves over the man who had helped you pull the evening off so convincingly. Suit a little more crinkled now, eyes lined with deeper creases. Fringe slightly mussed; you wonder if the wisps of those blonde locks partially obscuring his gaze now had been responsible for the tickling sensation in your dreams, brushing against you as he dozed off on the ride back too, nose inadvertently tucked against your nape. If only you'd woken up before him, you'd know.

Nanami hasn't pushed your hand away, yet.

"Well, um," you clutch his tie, grasping for an excuse to linger. "Then at least let's split the limo cost, okay? You have to."

Nanami sighs, body sagging as you square yours up, recognizing your default stance of stubborn determination. "Why?"

"Be-because! If- If you pay for everything, it will- it would-" You let go of his tie, fists dropping by your side instead.

Nanami arches a brow, taking a step closer. "It would what?"

He's never known you to be inarticulate in your arguments.

Your cheeks are dusted vermilion. Nanami didn't think you had that much to drink. Sure, you had slurred something that sounded suspiciously close to his name in your nap on the way back here, but your eyes are bright and glinting now, practically glaring at him.

You can't believe you have to spell this out for him.

But maybe it wasn't super surprising. Maybe all Nanami really did do with his weekends was devote his soul to sourdough.

You take a deep breath. "Because, it would feel like a real date."

"Oh."

Nanami's gaze is quizzical, you can see a dozen responses cycling through his brain - none of which you can predict. He regards you for a long moment.

Would that impression be so bad? Did you so abhorrently oppose the idea of him bringing you on an actual date? Probably it boiled down to your admirable, adorable fierce independent streak - wait, Adorable? That didn't sound right...

Nanami clears his throat. You stiffen, prepared for his excuse.

"Whether this was a real date or not, that perception is up to you. It's not my prerogative. Regardless of any transactions exchanged or future favours owed." The corner of his lips twitches and your heart flips, hardly daring to speculate what Nanami could want from you down the road.

"But for the record," he continues calmly, so smoothly you don't even notice when your fist had uncurled, when he had snuck his own hand beneath your grasp, "No matter what your cousin mentioned earlier this evening..."

Your cousin? You're caught off guard by the apparent non-sequitur. Nanami takes the opportunity to pull your hand close to him gradually; so gradually there's ample time for enough clarity to seep through, for you to tug your hand back. But you don't.

Not even at the slow drag of his thumb across your knuckles, slow as the timid creep of verdant shoots through frosted tundra, slow as hibiscus petals unfurling across your cheeks. Wonder triumphs. Spring triumphs. Nanami plants a single kiss upon your hand.

"I find your company to be priceless."

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 23

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 22 🍂 Part 24

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: Lots and LOTS of names. (The family tree isn't quite finished yet, but if anyone needs it to keep track of this... I'll post it XD)

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: 21 days. That's three whole weeks. I'm so sorry! I've been trying to get ahead on this thing for a bit, it didn't quite work out. I just wasn't in a Sy mood for some reason. But! Here we are again, with another fluffish chapter. @keanureevesisbae hold on to your ovaries, there will be Sy holding babies. (Do I owe up to 30 or 31 now?)

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @beck07990 @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn

A few quick observations: Sy’s family? Very big. And as you would expect from a big family; the noise was absolutely overwhelming. Dean appeared next to you out of nowhere, grabbing you by the shoulders and dragging you into a corner.

“Let Jules handle this part, just…” He looked around for a moment, which was a lot easier for him than it was for you, and called Sy over.

“There y’are, Sugar,” he said. “Thought I’d lost ya!”

“You did lose me,” you growled. Sy’s family consisted of a fair amount of big men – not that Sy was by any means the runt of the family; quite the contrary, in fact – and a far larger amount of less-than-tall-but-still-taller-than-you women. And kids. So, so many kids. Some of which, you noticed, were also taller than you.

“Let me introduce you to my family,” Sy said. To your surprise – though it didn’t surprise you as much as it maybe should have – he went out to look for his parents, first.

“Mom, dad,” Sy said when he’d found them in the crowd, “I’d like you to meet Lara, my girlfriend.” As soon as he said it, the living room went much more quiet, and the entire atmosphere turned much more uncomfortable.

“Alright, y’all absolutely sure y’all wanna get nosy?” It didn’t sound friendly, but everyone went off minding their own business, so that was good.

“Sy!” Either his mother didn’t appreciate her son’s direct approach, or something else was off. “Why is this the first time we’re hearin’ of any girlfriend?” Instead of offering a defense to his mother, Sy just looked at his dad.

“He may have said somethin’bout it to me,” Sy’s father growled to no one in particular before turning to Sy, “but it’s yer own fault for not tellin’ your mother directly.”

“It’s been busy,” Sy said softly. There clearly wasn’t a good way for him to navigate himself out of this conversation.

“Too busy to call your own mother? Good Lord, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Betty-Jo and John-Bob Syverson,” Sy chuckled at you as his mother made a few dramatic hand gestures before slapping Sy in the shoulder with her purse a few times.

“Now probably ain’t the best time to ask why your furniture is in her living room, right, Sy?” A younger man who looked like he was one of Sy’s brothers threw an arm around Sy’s shoulders and grinned so wide that you were almost scared his face would tear in half. Sy looked like he was about to commit murder, but so did Sy’s mom – and you had to admit she was much scarier – and very quick to put two and two together.

“Are the two o’ya livin’ together?” It was funny to hear that her drawl got more pronounced when she got mad, just like Sy’s…

“Ma, don’t get m-“

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, son.” There was absolutely no arguing with this woman.

“Yes.”

“Jonathan George Syverson, I raised you better than to go around livin’ with women you ain’t got no intention of marryin’!”

“One second, Ma,” Sy said with a grin before turning to you. “Sugar, did I or did I not tell you that that was exactly what she’d have to say about that?” He paid for the choice to interrupt the conversation with a very firm smack in the back of his head from his father.

“Don’t you think for a second that I’m in any way thrilled about this situation, son.”

“Nothin’ to do with you, sweetheart, you seem like a very nice girl,” his mother said to you in the nicest voice before scowling at her son again. “But you should know better. Sweet lord Jesus, what did I do wrong? You try to raise ‘em right, ‘n this is what you get…”

“You raised him just fine, Ma’am,” you said before slamming your mouth shut again. Why were you getting in the middle of this? You should definitely stay out of this. It was a good thing Sy smiled when you looked up at him, and he pulled you closer.

“I don’t think you gotta worry about his intentions to marry her, Ma,” his brother said as he looked at Sy’s face. His expression said everything – which seemed to calm his mother down at least a little. You talked to them for a moment before they walked away to say hello to Julie’s parents.

“This is Georgie,” Sy said after they were out of earshot, “the youngest of the twins, who’s apparently made it his life’s mission to try’n get me killed. What the fuck was that, you bastard?”

“Revenge,” Georgie replied, “For ratting me ‘n Angelina Jefferson out.”

“That was senior prom! You held onto that for nearly ten years? God damn!” He shook his head in disbelief until George was joined by a woman holding a kid. “Anyway, this is his wife, Emma. And that’s Mikey, their youngest. The eldest is Helena Marie, she’s off somewhere, I reckon.” Mikey reached for Sy, who took him from his mom. Something about seeing Sy with a kid on his arm made you melt. Apparently, George saw the way you looked at his brother.

“Looks good on him, doesn’t it?” he said with a big smirk. There was absolutely no denying that he was right. From the corner of your eye, you saw Jules, who had been handed what no doubt was the youngest kid of Pat’s sister.

“Shut up,” Sy snapped back at Georgie, “stop tryin’ to make her uncomfortable.”

“He’s right, though. It does suit you,” you said – again, without thinking about it. What was wrong with you? “Anyway, we’re not done with introductions, are we?”

“Not even close,” Sy answered before he started laughing.

“Uncle Sy!” you suddenly heard from behind, and a boy – you guessed he was 12 or so years old – appeared next to you. “New girlfriend?”

“Hey, Wes! Yeah,” Sy replied, “this is Lara.”

“Lara, or Aunt Lara?”

“Depends on whether you want to live to see another day, mister,” someone else replied to that question from somewhere behind you. You raised your eyebrows at Sy, who pointed out the next person for you to be introduced to: his sister-in-law Nora-Beth, who was married to the eldest of the twins, Ricky. According to Sy, they had one kid – so far: John-Luke.

“Aunt it is!” the teen in front of you said with the same big grin on his face that Sy usually had. He introduced himself as Wesley and disappeared again.

“Wes is my sister Mary Beth’s eldest,” Sy explained, and he pointed his sister out in the crowd, along with her husband Bill. “The other four are Gray, Will and Kenny, and there’s Lainey, the one she’s holding.”

“God, five kids?” You remembered that Sy had told you that Mary Beth was twenty-nine years old. “In nine years?” That was a tight fit, timewise.

“In thirteen years,” Sy said, “she had Wes when she was sixteen. Don’t bring it up with Ma around, she’s still not over it completely. It was Nana who knocked some sense into her, actually.” That was unexpected, because Sy had described his grandma as extremely religious and very… proper.

“She wasn’t thrilled,” Mary Beth had apparently heard your conversation, and was now standing next to Sy, “but she figured we’d have to make the best of a bad situation. Before you think the worst; my higschool boyfriend knocked me up and then took off. Bad enough, but not as bad as it could’ve been.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said when she saw your face, “It’s okay if you don’t know what to say! You look scared to death, sweetheart, are you alright?”

“Just not used to all this big family… stuff,” you admitted softly as you looked around the room to all the faces of people you hadn’t been introduced to yet. You were already dizzy, how the hell were you going to survive this?

“Sy, what were you thinkin’, dumpin’ a sweet girl like her in the middle of this like it ain’t nothin’!” Another voice you didn’t recognize, but that problem solved itself. “Anna-Belle, nice to meet you! This is my husband, Lewis.” She pointed to the man next to her before giving you a hug. At least there seemed to be no kids attached to this pair, that was a nice break from everything that was going on. Unfortunately for you, the next unfamiliar face was already approaching for introductions. This time, it was Darlene Louise, Sy’s youngest siter, with her husband, Jonathan. You were beginning to gain some first-hand experience with the reason Sy went by Sy. Darlene Louise – who insisted she shouldn’t be called Darlene – and John – who insisted he shouldn’t be called Jonathan – had two kids: Jenna-Lynn and Vicky-Lee.

“Lara? Lara!” Now that voice you’d recognize everywhere: it was Jules. “God, there you are. You’re damn near invisible in here, I thought you were one of the kids. Come meet my parents!” She pulled you along to the far side of the living room.

“Mom, dad, this is Lara, my Dutch friend I’ve been telling you about for years!”

At least you recognized Debbie and Tim McGregor from pictures, and apparently they recognized you, too. Her mother hugged you, her father shook your hands, and they both repeated the phrase ‘nice to meet you’ half a dozen times before asking you all kinds of questions about yourself you felt you’d already answered seventy-two times this afternoon, even though you’d hardly spend any time talking to anyone, because Sy kept throwing names in your direction. After Julie’s’parents, you were introduced to Mary-Kate and Patrick Dawson – Pat’s parents – and Sy’s uncle Charlie and his husband Raymond. You managed to escapte to the kitchen before anyone else could get to you.

“Sugar? Are you hidin’?” Sy wrapped his arms around you more carefully than he usually would have. “I know it’s a lot, are you alright?”

“Exhausted,” you said, “and nauseous.”

“Do you want to lie down for a minute?” His offer came just a tiny bit too late, because Jules called everyone back into the living room for some sort of announcement, or whatever, and you had no choice but to follow Sy, who luckily stayed close to you.

[writtenbyevie]

For the otp question thing!! for sunaosa (obviously): 18 (I’m asking mostly for the bonus hehe), 26, 28, 29, and 30! I’m very nosy and curious what you think about these hehe, big love <3

my beloved jules!! the outlets you give me to ramble on about sunaosa bring so much joy so thank you. i’m squishing your cheeks 🤍✨🤍

18. Who leaves little notes in the other's lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

Since I imagine Osamu makes Suna's lunch almost every day at Inarizaki, dually to test out his recipes and to take care of Suna, I think he does this. I would like to think he writes really, really bad food puns related to whatever meal he just made in hopes of making Suna laugh from the sheer cringe factor alone. He also always tacks on a PS which features something sweet, with the goal of making Suna blush and/or punch him in the arm.

When they're living in different cities, Osamu tries order lunch for them both from a chain restaurant that has locations in both Shizuoka and Osaka at least once a week. (He likes to eat locally but for this plan to work he has to rely franchises) He'll have Suna's meal delivered to the EJP Raijin gym and his to Onigiri Miya. That way they can feel like they're eating together, even if it's at different times in different places, just as they did back in Hyogo.

To top it all off, in the notes for Suna's order, he still writes bizarre little jokes, not caring what the delivery guy or chefs will think. It's gotten Suna some strange looks from drivers over the years but c'est la vie.

26. What would be their theme song?

THIS IS HARD!!! When writing earth and moon, I repeatedly listened to J's Lullaby by Delaney Bailey, as I felt that song really embodied the atmosphere and energy of what I was writing. Lyrically, I'm not sure if it's the best match. I just love something very soft and without frills for them. Inevitable by Anberlin is also another good one for them. I also love this instrumental piece called Wanderlust by AK for them. I don't know to describe it, but it encapsulates their energy very well to me. I probably listened to this one the most actually while writing them.

28. What do they do when they're away from each other?

This is actually a plot point in earth and moon! They do a lot of things, but I have a favorite one. So mild spoiler alert I guess?

For context: Suna and Osamu discuss the moving away from each other, causing Suna to confess he fears Osamu will forget about him. Osamu responds with the story about how Atsumu knew he had a crush on him before he did.

“One day, I snapped. Asked why his delusional ass was so convinced I liked ya.” Osamu smiles, a little pull of his lips, a little pull of Rin’s heart. Gravity living and breathing and just eighteen. “Do ya know what he said?”

Rin shakes his head. 

“He said he knew cuz I kept findin’ ya in things.” Thunder rumbles, a low kind of crash that jostles the ground beneath feet and glass in barely kept together windows. “Told me that my every other sentence was some variation of ‘doesn’t this remind ya of Rin?’” Osamu chuckles, the sound tumbling, as if each breath trips the next. “To which he’d always answer ‘no ‘cuz I’m not in love with him ya moron,’ and I’d always promptly put him in a headlock.”

Rin snorts, sticky and dull, but something in his chest clears. Light seeps in.

Sighing, Osamu says, “and as much as I hate to admit it, he got me thinkin’.” He cranes his head, watching falling raindrops as if they bottle his thoughts. “Thinkin’ about how I’d find ya in the bottoms of pudding cups and the backyard willow tree and the bridge of my favorite song.” They kiss his face. Baby blue bursts of memory. “And I realized ‘Tsumu got somethin’ wrong.” Osamu grins properly now. Crooked and wide. His old lip scar drawn over with gray ink. “I didn’t just randomly find ya in those things, I was lookin’. And I still look.”

He gazes at Rin directly. Moonlight curves around the storm’s bend. Softly shining amongst the sky’s black melancholy. It does not best the lightning or better the rain, but it returns. Constant, even when Rin believed it to be lost. 

“I look for ya in strawberry soda, shichimi, and the sea. In vanilla, camera flashes, and the color green. In bedsheets, stars, and all my dreams.” Osamu steps closer to Rin so their noses almost brush. “So long as there’s a scrape of matter and a shred of my soul, I’ll be looking for ya, Rin. Until yer lookin’ back. And I know that ya will. Because goin’ does not mean goodbye."

They develop this habit of texting each other messages and/or pictures anytime they see something that reminds them of the other person. It ranges from sweet things like sunsets and starry nights to dirty bumper stickers and a racoon that lives in the dumpster behind Osamu's apartment. They do other things as well, but this one is my favorite.

29. one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

So I have two because they're character headcanons.

Suna has abandonment issues that manifest in him leaving relationships first, since he can't fathom anyone wanting to stick around. After all, no one has ever chanced after him when he moved, so he learned to just stop looking back.

Osamu's life has been defined by his accomplishments, which results in this sort of covert perfectionism. People love him for what he does, not who he is. He ends up developing in an intense fear of failure, especially when he initially struggles to get Onigiri Miya off the ground.

30. one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

They both unlearn these issues through each other! Osamu actively fights to keep Suna in his life and teaches him that the possibility of pain and being left doesn't devalue or undermine the importance of relationships in the first place.

Suna shows Osamu that not only does he love him for who he is, regardless of his success, but he is proud of him too. One of his lines in after is literally: "I love you for who you are, not who you think you have to be." Suna gives Osamu permission to "fail," which in turn gives Osamu the freedom to grow.

ANYWHO!!! This turned out to be insanely long. Thank you Jules for letting me wax and wane about Sunaosa. I adore them and you!! Big hugs and forehead kisses to you!! Much love 💫💖💫

[eskelbigbang]

Eskel Big Bang 2021 Masterpost

Here are all the fics and art made this year for the Eskel Big Bang. Congratulations on the hard work, everyone!

AO3 collection || #ebb works tag || #ebb art tag || #ebb fic tag

Below the cut is a full list of all EBB works:

Uprooted (T, No Pairing, 12k) by @rachofspades, art by @drachedraws

When a nondescript notice begging for a witcher's aid catches Eskel's attention on his way back to Kaer Morhen for the winter, he finds himself drawn in by his own curiosity despite his initial reservations. Once he arrives, it quickly becomes apparent that there's something more sinister going on than typical monster attacks, and he's determined to figure out what it is. Fic || Art (1) (2)

These Clay Hands (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.7k) by @aalizazareth, art by @hobbart-art

Eskel is a shy pottery instructor who meets Jaskier during one of his lessons. The two hit it off. Fic || Art

The Empty Safe Job (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 18k) by @iboughtaplant, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

A team of thieves with complicated pasts take down the rich and powerful to help those that get left out from justice. Their latest job should be simple, but an unexpected adversary has Eskel confronting his past. Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys. Fic || Art

the broken vines are an open door (M, Eskel & Geralt & Yennefer, 5.2k) by @trissmarrygoals, art by @flyingyarn

Traveling through Aedirn with his newly acquired child surprise, Eskel stumbles upon a dead body - and with it, a mystery. Fic || Art

With you I'll never be alone (T, Eskel/Geralt, 5.8k) by @dat-carovieh, art by @mondfuchs

From their first meeting, through their whole long life Geralt and Eskel have always been there to comfort each other when one of them got hurt. --- Or five times Geralt and Eskel comfort each other through some kind of hurt and one time they're just comfortable. Fic || Art

Eskel Has A Good Day (G, Eskel & Wolf Witchers, 9.3k) by @gods-no-longer-tread-here, art by @phoenixandjacob

The Wolves (and bard) of Kaer Morhen go on a vacation to the coast, and have a good day. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Tu Me Manques. (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 8k) by @etcorsolus, art by @cvbeebop

In which, Eskel meets a bard who calms him. Body, mind, and soul. Story title is how the French say 'I miss you.' The more literal translation is 'You are missing from me.' Fic || Art

Little Red (M, Eskel/Lambert, 6.1k) by @miahclone, art by @llwynbleidd

Eskel helps Lambert while he's recovering from a serious injury. To distract him from the pain, Eskel tells stories of past hunts. Fic || Art

Constellations (M, Eskel/Geralt, 7.2k) by @dredshirtroberts, art by @dat-carovieh

Eskel loves Geralt but their soulmarks don't match - he'd know. They're witchers, and scars are their business. As he joins Geralt in retirement, Eskel figures whatever he can get with the other witcher will be enough. He might get a little bit more than he thought he was bargaining for, but Eskel's never passed up a good deal. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Trial By Fire (Eskel and Aza's Wild Ride) (E, Eskel/OFC, 11k) by @janzoo, art by @liaonyxrayne

When Eskel rescues his succubus acquaintance from witch hunters, their reunion becomes something more as they're drawn into the hunters' plot. What can they do against a twisted idealist and the danger he presents to witchers and non-humans? Fic || Art

Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 29k) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites, art by @wolfgeralt

When Eskel is hired to kill an incubus who ruined a noble wedding, he finds that his target is far from a bloodthirsty beast, a too-pretty court bard. Eskel spares Jaskier and they go their separate ways, with Eskel expecting never to see the incubus again. But Jaskier has other ideas. Fic || Art

I Could Eat the World Raw (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 7k) by @buttercupsanddandelions, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

“This is Eskel.” He pushes him slightly forward, “And he just had his conduit moment.” After becoming a mage, Eskel finds that he's been soul-bound to a little lordling. Fic || Art

Something we bury (M, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @heartoferebor, art by @craftgamerzz

“Where’s Eskel?” Ciri asks Geralt, frowning a little. “He went out to do more hunting and gather some potion ingredients. Should be back any moment,” Geralt reassures her. “Ah. Good.” She hesitates a little before deciding to forge right ahead with her next question. She’s asked everyone else in the keep, of course she’ll have to ask Geralt, too. “About his scars…” * Ciri wants to know where Eskel's scars came from, so she decides to ask everyone at the keep about them. Except, they all seem to have different stories... Fic || Art

Lord What Fools These Witchers Be (T, Aiden/Eskel, 21k) by @jayofolympus and @frenchkey, art by aviixrc

When Lambert brings Aiden to winter with him in Kaer Morhen, Eskel is catapulted straight into his own personal hell. It would be easier if he didn’t like the Cat. Instead, he finds himself falling head over heels for his brother’s boyfriend and trying to hide it from a pack of nosy Witchers. If only Aiden would stop flirting with him... Fic || Art (1) (2)

A Moment of Comfort (M, Eskel/OC) by @merpancake

An attack at a brothel begins with blood and carnage, but Eskel finds an unexpected peace in the arms of Cenna. As their paths continue to cross, Eskel carries that same peace within him on his journey through monsters and men. Art

Toussaint's Finest (M, Eskel/Geralt, 9.1k) by @kate-river, art by @justhereforeskel

Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever. Fic || Art

Beneath the Shadow and the Soul (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 32k) by @vix-spes, art by @buffskierights

Eskel had the strange feeling that everything was going to change when he passed through Dol Blathanna one year on his way back to Kaer Morhen for winter. He had been passing through a town and, instead of running away from him, someone had exclaimed “You’re a Witcher,” and proceeded to sing at him. He just hadn't realised how much of an impact it would have on him. Fic || Art

Daughter of Fire (T, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 4.9k) by @kittynannygaming, art by @zmezagain

Witchers are sterile, that's a fact. No female human can bear their child. Well, the keyword here is 'human' and a succubus is very not human. And Eskel now has a sweet 7 years old daughter. Fic || Art

Break It Recklessly (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 22k) by @anonymousblueberry, art by @nol-nol

From teenage tearaways to successful adults, Geralt and Eskel have always been inseparable. To the extent that when Geralt accepts a wedding invite with Eskel as his plus one, there’s the assumption that they have finally sorted their shit out and got together, forcing them to keep up the facade or cause chaos for the happy couple. What follows is a crash course in emotions, dating, and working out that love can burn long and slow for a very long time. Fic || Art

The Question (M, Eskel/Istredd, 40k) by @eskelchopchop, art by @stars-in-my-damn-eyes

Eskel's in Ohio when Yennefer calls. He’s reluctant to pick up; he’s still not over Geralt, and he's got zero desire to chat with Geralt's new lover. Turns out Yen isn’t his lover anymore, and this isn’t about Geralt. It’s about witcher’s work. Yennefer owns Portal, one of New York City's most popular gay clubs. A Post-Conjunction Entity (PCE) is hunting her clientele, leaving a string of withered corpses in its wake. The police are doing jackshit. Will Eskel come back to a city full of bad memories and take a job off the books to stop it? He'll sure as hell try. Along the way, he’ll cross paths with Istredd, a man with sorcerer’s eyes and a painful past of his own. If Eskel doesn't work fast enough, they both might become the PCE's next victims. Fic || Art

Is It Cold In The Water? (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 12k) by @jennyloggins, art by @jerry-of-rivia

His horse is tied to a branch a few trees out, and that’s where Eskel heads to grab his water skein, taking a deep drink and soothe his dry throat. Patting his horse’s backside affectionately on his way past her, Eskel feigns a stern voice to say, “Zuzanna, keep watch for me.” Her tail twitches as if to swat him away. Fic || Art

Everything I Want (I Can Find in You) by @eyesofshinigami, art by @phoenixandjacob

Eskel didn't think he'd ever see Jaskier again, sure the Cat witcher was only looking for a night of fun. But then he keeps showing up, taking Eskel to bed and leaving him little presents. It takes Eskel a bit, but eventually he realizes that maybe, just maybe, Jaskier means it when he says he wants to keep him. Or Eskel doesn't think he deserves nice things and Jaskier is determined to show him otherwise. Fic || Art

One Stop Shop; Tattoo's Piercings, And Love (M, Eskel/Jaskier/Lambert, 7.4k) by @jesheckah, art by @moondrunkart

When Eskel fumbles an invitation at a party to come into his tattoo shop, Jaskier and he move towards an explosive love. How many tattoo sessions does it take for the heart to know what it wants? Fic || Art

Entanglement (and other words for a mess) (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 31k) by @violaceum-vitellina-viridis, art by @merpancake

Eskel has a hundred marks on his body, but a soulmark isn't one of them. Fic || Art

Beneath Each Other's Bones (E, Eskel/Geralt, 7.6k) by @pressedinthepages, art by @drachedraws

Winter at Kaer Morhen can be brutal. But Eskel and Geralt find warmth in each other in an effort to stave off the cold. Fic || Art (1) (2)

#9fe2bf on the Shore (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.5k) by @buffskierights, art by @phoenixandjacob

The sea roars with a vengeance, something angering the waves even as the stars shine brightly overhead in the clear night sky. If Eskel were a poet he’d say it almost sounded like a wail of mourning, the way the whitewater crashes upon the night black sand and the gathering foam, the sea frothing furiously. But Eskel’s always hated his poetry lessons so being a poet is firmly off the table. Fic || Art

lion in the wolf's den (T, Coen/Eskel, 5k) by @patchwork-doublet, art by @justhereforeskel

eskel is nervous being around ciri, afraid things will go south like they did last time. Fic || Art

Sugar Baby Blues (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 24k) by adevinecomedy, art by @pastelrune

Jaskier’s mind slipped back to a night several months ago when he was all worked up but had nowhere to go and a mountain of school work to get through. How it was just so much easier to log onto a camming website and watch someone perform seemingly just for him. The gorgeous, confident man on the other side of the screen had been so accommodating, even though Jaskier had been shy and hadn’t typed much into the chat. Modern au where Eskel is a Cam boy and runs into a bit of a financial bind. Enter Jaskier who just might be the answer to all his woes. Fic || Art

Winter Comfort (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 10k) by @myidlehand, art by @liaonyxrayne

Jaskier comes to Kaer Morhen to spend some time with Eskel, after briefly meeting him in the fall. And while both of them seem delighted to see each other again, Eskel starts to shy away from Jaskier's comments and flirting. It doesn't take a genius to see Eskel is having body image issue. Jaskier aims to help him through it. Fic || Art

The Subtle Knife (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 26k) by @major-trouble, art by @cylin-aka-ankamo

There's an assassin haunting the Continent. No one knows their name, everyone - that is, everyone in the know - calls them The Specter. If you want a rival out of the way, a political opponent disposed of, or a strategic target taken out, contacting The Specter gets the job done. For a price, of course. There's an art to subtlety, after all, and it wouldn't do to risk the attention of law enforcement. So there's no obvious cause, no knife to the back, and the deaths aren't usually remarked upon. The Kaer Morhen Agency, however, has noticed. One of their agents has been hired to protect potential victims, people scared that they've been targeted. And they have reason to worry. When Eskel's first assignment winds up dead of no discernible cause, it starts him on a search for the elusive Specter, hoping against hope to track down the assassin before they're hired again. Setting a trap for a ghost is something Witchers are used to. Setting one for a trained killer may prove beyond them. Fic || Art

No Funny Business (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 11k) by goldendaydreams, art by @nanero11

Eskel had long given up on finding his soulmate, his soulmark nothing but scar tissue from a house fire he’d survived as a child. Knowing that most people wait for their perfect someone, their destiny, didn’t stop him from falling in love with Jaskier, the nurse he met after a hunt gone wrong. Fic || Art

Stronger Than My Storm (E, Eskel/Geralt) by @rawrkinjd, art by @nol-nol

Eskel and Geralt were friends from the very beginning. They added the benefits later. It was another way to offer comfort and companionship when the rest of the world closed in around them, and Eskel was content with it for years. Until he wakes up one day and realises it’s become something more. He touches Geralt’s silver hair, wreathed in a halo of yellow sunlight, and allows himself to feel the cracks spreading through his heart. Witchers can’t love each other. It would only lead to suffering. Eskel realises he must weather the storm inside or let Geralt go forever. Fic || Art

Full of Life (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 6.3k) by @sternenstaub28, art by @llwynbleidd

When Eskel gets hired to solve the case of people disappearing in town, she didn’t know she’d find a friend and maybe even something more. or Beauty and strength don't necessarily make your life easier, a companion and love however do. Fic || Art

choices are the hinges of destiny (T, Eskel/Geralt, 7.5k) by @lutes-and-dandelions, art by @cassandrasartworld

After rescuing a fae from the clutches of death, they repay Eskel by helping him make a choice. -oOo- A story about what would have happened if Eskel had claimed his child of surprise. Fic || Art

Eskel Vs The Continent (And His Feelings) (M, No Pairing, 47k) by @chibitabathasloves, art by @zmezagain

Eskel decides he needs to leave Kaer Morhen after the fight with the Hunt. Where will it take him? And will he be able to face his feelings he desperately tries to ignore. Fic || Art

lookin' to the sky to save me (T, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @torynickles, art by @trissmarrygoals

Geralt slides his hand from Eskel’s shoulder to his back. And then. Then he keeps moving it, outwards, away from Eskel’s torso, where there should be nothing but air, but— “What the fuck?” he chokes, because he can still feel Geralt’s hand, sensation where there should be none. He shakes his head wildly, twisting his arm to reach for his own back. His fingers connect to something, but—it’s not his body, it can’t be his body, even though he can feel himself touching it. Because he’s made up of skin and flesh, bone and muscle, and this thing has all of those, but— It’s covered in sticky, damp feathers. Fic || Art

A Fine Night at the Faire (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 12k) by Elensule, art by @liaonyxrayne

Eskel has been hurt by the world and hides for refuge in his little goat farm. He's found no reason to look for love, or much of anything else. But encouragement from his brother sends him to an unfamiliar locale; the renfaire! Maybe stepping out of his comfort zone was just what he needed. Fic || Art

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [3] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) i keep forgeting to add that this isnt beta-rread..all of my stories arent so yeah shshs Notes: ah, i feel like this story will be lengthen more than 8-10 chapters shshshs i wanted to add a little spice anyways thanks for all the comments uwu ily all!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

“Y/N-chan!!!”

You cringe in embarrassment as soon as you hear that awfully familiar and cheerful voice, you could barely remember this man and the events that transpired the night before but here he was, acting like your new best friend. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go here but you needed clarity. Surely you didn’t just legally marry a man at an Izakaya out of all places last night?

“Oh, you actually did marry him.” Gojo Satoru proclaims as soon as you take a seat across him, he gestures around his face, “I could tell by your whole, ‘I hope this guy is messing with me’ face. You have it, signed and sealed. Even got the cute matchy rings that I had one of my assistants delivered.”

You pale at the thought of his assistant coming in with a silver ring. Wasn’t he sober? How could he not have stopped you two from doing something as reckless and stupid as this? Weren’t older men supposed to be more responsible than this?

“Why the hell didn’t you stop us?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands, embarrassment painted all over your features.

“I was just as drunk as you two.” He confessed, scratching his head, “probably even more drunk but anyways back to the topic in hand, I only remembered it when the same assistant came in and congratulated me about it. It’s good I had your number on my phone before you two bailed.”

“So you don’t really remember?”

“Bits and pieces.” Gojo grinned, this guy was a maniac, how did the serious man you met just this morning have friends like this? You probably wouldn’t even last long, “I did call Nanami-”

He’s cut off by the rough sound of someone pulling a chair out, you immediately jump on your seat when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, the guy from this morning. The man you had recklessly married!

“This better be some prank you’re pulling, Satoru.” His voice was anything but kind that you almost wanted to hide behind Gojo’s back.

“Hey, hey.” Gojo raises his hands, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t force you into anything and stop scaring your poor little partner.”

Nanami snaps his gaze towards you and you notice how his eyes soften just a bit when he sees your red ears and your eyes looking away from him, “You better call Geto and fucking fix this, I refuse to bother this young-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, still shy and red, “It’s...fine...I just…Please don’t think I’m burdened by it. It was technically my fault for even agreeing immediately.”

Nanami clenches his jaw and turns away, “Nevertheless. L/N-san’s young. I hope to not be such an uncouth man like you.” he retorts, voice sharp as he eyes the white-haired businessman up and down. Gojo, seemingly used to it, rolls his eyes behind his dark shades.

“Maybe you guys should try it out.”

The blonde man looks like he’s about to smite the white-haired man out of existence yet Satoru remains oblivious to his friend’s gaze, “Don’t ya think so? It will take a while for those divorce papers to settle in so why don’t you two go out and get to know each other? Who knows…” he sing-songs the last part and Nanami is so close to chunking his briefcase towards the tall businessman, not even caring 

“Ah, he’s not exactly wrong, Nanami-san.” you try to calm him down, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this idiot’s idea.” Nanami replied, gaze narrowing.

“Not really but you have some problems I can help you out on and I have problems that you can help me out on...Of course, the last say is on you...”

“Told you I actually had a brain.” Satoru piped in.

“Shut up, Satoru.” he quips, then turns to you, “I’m thirteen years older than you, L/N-san. I have two high school kids that could pass off as your siblings, and-”

“Well, I technically did marry you.”

“You were drunk.”

“Doesn’t exactly really excuse it.” You laugh nervously, “The whole divorce process usually lasts up to a few months, some even takes a whole year. I could help you out with the boys and I can use you to ward my family off from moving back home.”

Nanami is quiet for a moment, actually thinking about it. Weighing the pros and the cons, not only would you be able to help him out but you’d also be able to get Gojo and blind-dating out of his back.

There really wasn’t anything he could loose, really.

“Or you two might fall in love.” Satoru teases, making Nanami throw him another side-eye, as if saying ‘I dare you to say another word.’

It’s a Thursday today and Sukuna absolutely loathed Thursdays     apparently because it reminded him of Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. They all were far from the weekend     Everyone seems to be happier than usual though. Maybe it was because you were there teaching some basic shit at the board or something.

“...and if we transfer this here and change the positive to a negative, you’ll end up having five as your answer.” You smile, placing your chalk down, “Does anyone have any questions?”

Echoes of no’s resonated throughout the room.

“Alright then, let’s end the lesson here so you guys can have an early lunch. I don’t think an assignment is in order since many of you were able to get a perfect score in the activity awhile ago.” You winked. A couple of whoops resonated throughout the whole class right after. 

As the kids shuffle out of the room of the class, Sukuna remains behind. The ojisan had cooked them something delicious this morning and he wanted to eat it in peace without that pesky Nobara grabbing a share from his bento and Yuuji’s annoying babbles about horror movies with his best friend Junpei (the only one who was really bearable was Megumi, really)

“Sukuna-kun?” you called out, snapping him out of his small trance,  “Are you alright?”

He notices a glint of worry in your eyes, he had to admit since his transfer here last Monday, you were the least annoying teacher in the academy     the blue-haired professor in Japanese literature was absolute shit since he loved to tease him a lot and that bald-headed teacher in science who looked a lot like Mike Wazowski was an annoying twerp who loved dawdling in him and Yuuji’s business     and you were kind of good at your job. Not only did his idiot of a brother stop coming to him and their ojisan for help in math but he could actually do the worksheets right and get an actual decent grade at it.

“Yeah.” he roughly replies.

“That’s good.” You smiled, he watched as you bind their worksheets together and clip them in utmost delicacy, “You should head to the cafeteria now, I heard they’re serving milk bread today.”

Without saying anything more, you left the room, leaving him there in the silence.

Well, the Christmas tree idiot was right.

You kind of had a motherly aura on you and it didn’t even look forced.

No wonder, everyone in this room was whipped for you despite your subject being a pain in the ass.

“You look like an idiot.” You mumbled as you slapped Mahito’s hand away in annoyance, your workmate wiggling his eyebrows like the little shit he is.

You completely forgot you did have someone like Gojo Satoru in your life and it was one of your co-workers, Mahito, a Japanese literature teacher who was too nosy for his own good.

“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger and a mailman comes in and gives you an invite for Zen’in Toji’s fortieth birthday.” he whistles, “Even Jogo-sensei gossiped by the water cooler awhile ago, saying that you had eloped with the man. Not that I’m judging you or anything...”

You choke on your saliva, clearly thrown off by the backhanded comment. That darn bald-headed fool that looked like the green eyed monster from the DreamWorks cartoon, he sure needed to lay off the gossip and actually focus on his job as the head of the science department, “You’re not denying it.” Mahito stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Why aren’t you denying it?”

“I’m not dating Megumi-kun’s father.” You grumbled, finishing up your paperwork, “That man is off limits.”

“Right,” he drawls on sarcastically, “...because you have a strict rule against dating hot older men with money.”

“I also teach his kids and his cousin…” You deadpan.

“We don’t even have a rule against that.” He retorts, rolling his eyes, “If we did, Hanami-sensei would’ve been fired a long time ago.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re so secretive. If it isn’t Toji Zen’in, who’d ask you out?”

“Hey, I do have a man.” You huffed, “and he’s very kind and considerate...”

The image of the tall and lean man sleeping next to you slowly wormed its way back from your memory and you feel your cheeks start to flush. Good god, what were you? twelve? How embarrassing.

You needed to get that image off of your head, it wasn’t right.

It was all temporary, anyways and he doesn’t even see you in that sort of way-

“Yes, I’m Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori’s guardian…” a very familiar stoic voice could be heard from the nearby table, cutting your thoughts short. Wait, were you so head over heels for the man that you started imagining him here? Yuuji and Sukuna’s guardian? Wait a minute.

All color drained from your face as you snap your head behind you to find the same man you were imagining.

Oh no.

Oh no, indeed.

There stood Nanami Kento in all his glory;  crisp suit, stoic face, and eyes laced with mild worry.

“...L/N-sensei is Sukuna-kun’s adviser, by the way. It would be best to discuss this with them.” Akari somberly informed the man, turning to your direction. You don’t miss the shift of expressions when he sees you standing there.

Your mouth parts and you know you look like gawking fish trapped in a small aquarium.

“Akari-sensei’s looking at you with the new hot daddy.” Mahito mumbles next to you, eyeing him up and down, “Definitely wonder where all these old men come from these days.”

You were only half-listening to your co-worker because your head was all over the place, just what were the odds that he was the guardian of the new transferee’s? Just how awkward would everything be? Why did it even have to be at this school out of all places?

Never ending questions pop out of your head as you approached them, “Good afternoon, Nanami-san.” Your smile comes out very stiff and awkward while you hold your hand out for him to shake, clearly there was no memo on how you were suppose to act around your sort-of-fake-husband-whos-kids-you-actually-taught.

Nanami reverts back to his stoic expression as he clears his throat, “Yes, good afternoon to you too, L/N-sensei.” he greets, maintaining a straight-laced tone.

“Akari-sensei says that Sukuna has been quite...rude...in class…” you try to rack your brains up to describe his kid.

“Your son literally pointed out that the history lesson I was teaching was fake and that I should study again so he could get his tuition’s worth.” Akari looks clearly perplexed and ready to throttle the boy if it was legal. You had to admit, Sukuna went overboard with that insult.

You knew how passionate Nitta was about her job and what Sukuna just said to her was like a big ‘fuck you, you suck.’ to her.

“I’ll be sure to talk to him about this,” he sighs, bowing down, “I’d like to ask for forgiveness for that, the boy is a good and smart student-”

“Nanami-san, the school not only cares about grades but character as well.” Akari Nitta sighed, cutting him off, “I’ll let this slide once, if he does that again, it goes on the record.”

You internally bit your cheek, still trying to process everything that was going on.

“I understand. Thank you for that.”

“I’ll walk him out, sensei.” You immediately say soon after, wanting to have some alone time with him, “Let’s go, Nanami-san.”

You walk right next to him silently, some students peerlessly glancing at the tall blonde next to you but you were too immersed in thought to notice the stares, “Nanami-san?” you ask softly as soon as you reach the exit.

Nanami Kento looks at you, his eyes still laced with a bit of worry, “It’s okay.” you silently comforted him, “Just talk to him calmly.”

“That’s not the problem.” he sighed, “I just didn’t expect that the person I married would be the boy’s teacher.”

You sweat drop, “Aren’t you worried about talking to Sukuna? I mean, he literally just disrespected a teacher and you said that he and you weren’t in good-”

“It’s easier to talk to him about that rather than…” he paused, showing his ring, “this.”

You blinked.

Seemed like Nanami knew what to say about the little attitude problem his son had, “So you must be used to this?” you asked, “Him disrespecting the teacher?”

You notice the shift of expressions on his face, you had only known this man for a few days so far but he was starting to get easier to read. His eyes shed more emotion than his face, no wonder he likes wearing those funny sunglasses a lot.

“It’s something I’ve scolded him over a couple of times,” he gruffed, trying to dance around the subject, it seemed like he had such a soft spot to the point where he had a problem with disciplining them, “At times I believe it’s just because he’s way too smart for his age. The boy has read history books for fun when he was a kid and solved quadratic equations to prove that he’s better than me when he was ten.”

“It still doesn’t give him the free pass to say things like that to a teacher”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “I’ll be sure to give him a better scolding-”

“No, you see. This is why he thinks he can get away with it. He isn’t afraid of you. You’ll only probably tell him that you can’t do that.” you frown, crossing your arms, “You do know that not all sensei’s are as nice as Akari-sensei and he could get in trouble for that even more in the future, right?”

Silence lingered between you two for a moment and suddenly you realize that you must’ve said something way off the rails.

“I..” you turn red, embarrassed by the sudden outburst, “That was too much, wasn’t it?”

You look at him directly in the eye, the worry-filled ones are now replaced with a softer gaze. God, he really needed to stop looking at you like a kid. It would only make this set-up more awkward!

“No,” he mumbles, “It...It wasn't too much…”

“Oh.” you cleared your throat, flustered and looking away from his face, “Well, okay then goodbye then Nanami-sa-”

You needed to get out of this conversation quick.

“Kento.”

Your gaze snaps directly towards him, clearly taken aback by the correction.

“What?”

“We’re technically married now, right?” he softly corrected, “Call me Kento.”

“Oh,” You uttered again, this time softly. You looked down on your shoes, it seemed like the floor looked really interesting now, “Then bye-bye, Kento.”

“Bye Y/N.”

He leaves you standing there, cursing yourself because of your erratic heartbeat at the way he says your name in that voice. First name basis? okay, totally normal for sort-of lovers, right?

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

; @coldbookworm  ; @frankenstein852  ;  @neavil  ; @shephard17895  @kristineyoshaii ; @airybnb ; @okachansenpai ; @amortentiaxo ; @rinvtaro ; @franko-pop ; @kozutenshi ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @bleepop ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @pettybroccoli ; @nixxona ; @kiyoo-omi ; @omibaby ; @bokkunto ; @peccobagnaia​ ; @sangwoahbigbussy​ ; 

@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ; @katshuya ; ​@atsuhaya

[cheeseandstrawberrytartlover]

The Last Newcomer to the Isles

(If anyone has a problem about how I wrote Dreydena, notify me immediately. I tried my best to research.)

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Dreydena's cane was swinging back and forth on the gravel-covered walk way, sometimes getting stuck on tiny rocks which made Dreydena herself quite uncertain. She was walking down to Eight Plates, waiting for the shadow of the building to pass over her. It was morning so she only woke up an hour or so ago. Dreydena knew these streets well, but still had issues bumping into people from time to time. Especially when it was loud. That is why she had her cane.

Once she noticed the shadow casting over her, she took a left turn. She reached out her hand and made it to one of the pillars. Dreydena was happy with herself and started to search for the step in front of the door which led into the Inn. Her cane suddenly hit some feet and then stone.

"Hey, watch out!"

"Oh! I'm sorry!"

Dreydena held onto the door frame and entered swiftly. She only had to walk forward now until she found the counter and sit down.

She had the feeling that many already walked out of the way. Dreydena carefully swung her cane above the floor and hit the counter. She did it!! She tried to feel for a seat and yes! She quickly sat down.

Some footsteps made her think that the bartender was coming and he loudly put a tankard next to her. She didn't order anything yet? Dreydena reached out to touch the tankard only to touch another person.

"Oh! Apologies! I thought that was my cup!"

She immediately took her hand away and the person next to her chuckled.

"Psh! Do not worry."

They had a very odd accent for a fellow dunmer. They took a sip from their cup and then put it back down.

"May I ask where you are from?"

"Eh, veeery far away. You could say a neighboring country."

"Oh and what is your name?"

The person next to her seemed to think about it for a second. Did they not know who they are?

"I do not think I can tell you my name."

"Why?"

The person audibly smiled, "Aren't you a nosy, little thing?"

Dreydena looked down.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be."

"It's quite all right! Curiosity is a good thing!"

They apparently studied her for a second.

"What a cruel joke..."

"What?"

"Your blindness is a cruel joke from the gods."

She nervously rubbed her hands.

"Well- I do not give fault to the gods. Maybe, it just happened when I was born. I already was at the temple in Vivec numerous times, but Vivec themself couldn't help me. It is not our Lord's fault that I was born blind."

The person stayed quiet.

"At least I can't miss anything," she chuckled, "since I was born blind and did not become blind."

Though, she chuckled at her own joke, the stranger did not seem to enjoy it. There was a lot of negative energy coming from next to her.

"Are you still there?"

The stranger startled, "Hm? Yes. I am."

"Good! I thought you had left because of my bad joke!"

They cackled, "No, you would have to make a terrible joke for me to leave! Haha."

Only now she realized that they were eating something.

"What are you eating?"

"Beetle-Cheese Poutine! No one in this world can make it better! Truly a shame..."

"Why is it a shame?"

They audibly shrugged, "...I will be leaving soon. To a place that I call home nowadays. I will miss Vvardenfell."

"What is your home like?"

"Beautiful, accepting, kind. Everyone is welcome."

"Can you describe it?"

"It's split in the middle. Swamp and forests on the one side and meadows and forests on the other. The trees have lots of colors."

"Like in the summerset isles, everyone talks about?"

"No, no. More colorful."

"Wow... I wish I could visit."

That statement immediately grabbed the stranger's attention.

"I have a question," they admitted.

"What is it?"

They knew their question would be controversial, "What is keeping you here? Friends? Family? You do not have to answer that."

She got awfully quiet.

"...I know Balmora well. It is the only thing I have ever known."

"Your parents have abandoned you, haven't they?"

The word "abandoned" rang in her ears.

"What? How-"

"I can see it in your eyes. Don't worry. My parents have also abandoned me long ago. I had no where else to go, so I made my own home. You can make it yours as well."

The person stood up from their seat and threw a few coins on the countertop.

"Where are you going?"

"Meet me at the Odai river this evening if you so desire to find a new home."

Back at home, Dreydena was trying to pack her things. She had no idea what time it was.

She took a deep breath. She had been alone for so long. She couldn't do much. She couldn't even have friends. Except one.

Dreydena just kept on going. She packed everything she had and went outside.

Her way to the Odai river was quite unsafe. A lot of stairs were in between the buildings that she had to traverse. Dreydena was already clumsy, but on top of that there was also now uncertainty. She often accidentally hit people's legs with her cane while she was walking down the stairs until... there were no stairs left.

She swung the cane in front of her, searching for any kind of sign where she was until she noticed something. The sound of water. The river. She started to walk straight forward with confidence. It got louder.

Dreydena made it to the river!

Now she only had to wait.

The young woman waited for quite some time. She sat down with her back to the river. She was starting to become impatient.

"Did they lie to me?" She thought to herself.

She played around with the straps of her bag.

A familiar voice with a familiar accent spoke up, "Did you wait long?"

Dreydena stood up in surprise.

"There you are, friend!"

Again, the stranger audibly smiled, "Are you ready?"

She held her bag close.

"Yes, I am."

Suddenly, Dreydena felt an odd breeze and heard a weird sound. As if something had opened.

The stranger softly took her hand, "May I?"

She nodded and they pulled her closer to the refreshing breeze.

"STOP IT AT THIS INSTANT!"

Dreydena startled at the sound of her best friend's voice.

"HOW DARE YOU TRICK SOMEONE WEAKER THAN YOU, SHEOGORATH?!"

"Sheogorath?"

Sheogorath slowly let go of Dreydena's hand.

"Dreydena, come to me! He is trying to trick you! No- he's trying to test you!"

"Is that true?"

The Daedric Prince denied that claim, "No! Listen here, girl! She does not want to be here! She feels useless here! I can give her a home and work that she will be able to do unlike here on Nirn!"

Dreydena turned to her friend, "Arvvana! Please! You can come with me if you want! This world doesn't need us!"

Arvvana sobbed, "You know that I cannot do that-!"

Sheogorath's whispers filled the air with spite and hatred, "Arvvana never felt different like you. She never has been a freak. An outsider. A nobody.... But I do and I have. That's why I made the Shivering Isles. Everyone there is different and unique like you and me, Dreydena."

They carefully wrapped his arms around Dreydena.

"No one here understands you."

It was as if Sheogorath's whispers were crawling into her ears like caterpillars.

"Please, Arvvana, come with us."

Dreydena reached out her hands towards her best friend. The best friend that she grew up with.

"I-I can't..."

Disappointed, she lowered her arms.

"See? I told you. She wouldn't feel welcome on the Shivering Isles, but you will, Dreydena. Come with me."

He let go of her and she took his hand, walking towards the portal.

"No! Dreydena!"

He grabbed her bag for her. As both Sheogorath and Dreydena left through the portal, Arvvana made a difficult decision. She watched as the portal got smaller and she ran towards it.

"DREYDENAA!!"

Just in time, she jumped through the portal and landed in a colorful meadow. She looked around to see flowers of every kind. Of every province. Even flowers she didn't know before.

Arvvana got up slowly and brushed off the dirt on her dress. She looked around in wonder. The trees looked like they were permanently in autumn, but... way more colorful. Suddenly she heard giggles ahead, so she made her way up a little hill.

On the foot of that hill was Sheogorath and Dreydena. Butterflies were circling around Dreydena and she chuckled as they gently brushed up against her from time to time.

The Daedric Prince watched happily while she was playing with the butterflies. One even landed on her nose and she completely stopped moving. Sheogorath himself chuckled at the adorable sight.

Only now Arvvana noticed that the portal behind her had vanished. She gasped, realizing that there was no way back home without Sheogorath's help.

Sheogorath heard the gasp and looked up on the hill.

"Oh, Dreydena, someone has changed her mind."

Dreydena spun in a circle.

"What? Who?"

Arvvana slowly walked down the hill towards them. She tried to think of something that she could trick the madgod with.

"I did... Sheogorath, I want to make a deal."

Sheogorath's elven ears twitched at that last sentence.

"What kind of deal?"

"If she isn't any happier here after... let us say... 3 weeks then we are allowed to go back home."

Dreydena raised her eyebrows, "But I don't want to leave..."

Sheogorath got incredibly serious in a few seconds. His smile had faded.

"There will not be a home to get back to.... Dreydena is the last one I wanted to pick up before..."

Both dunmer woman looked at them in confusion. Sheogorath fidgeted with their fingers.

"Before what?"

".... I had a vision that Baar Dau will fall at the start of this era."

Arvvana's mouth was agape.

"What? Is this another trick?!"

"After a certain... event on the isles here which happens every new era, I get a vision for the next era. I was not sure at first, but those images were quite... prominent. I can feel Vivec's power vanish by the second. I do not know how much longer they can hold Baar Dau before they..."

Sheogorath showed no signs of lying, so... it was true. Baar Dau will fall.

They inhaled sharply, "I got everyone I cared for out of Vvardenfell in merely months! One of my greatest achievements. They should be on the main land now."

"Why... us?"

"Dreydena was the last one to get my attention. It is rare to get my attention this easily. Arvvana, you are only here because Dreydena wanted you to. There is no way back now. I cannot let you leave."

Arvvana broke down and sank to her knees, sobbing.

"What is with my father?! You cannot do this!"

"I can and I will. Let me show you a place where you can stay until a new house is vacant."

"No! I will stay here until you open that portal again!"

Sheogorath looked at Arvvana. His eyes were drilling into her mind, but they only shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

The Daedric Prince slowly reached his hand out to Dreydena and she took it. Both walked to the nearest town as Arvvana wept into her hands. What will become of her sick father?! She cannot just let him die there! He would be all alone!

How cruel Sheogorath was. Fitting for a Daedric Prince.

[snelbz]

I'll Be Seeing You {6}

Nesta x Cassian, 1940′s AU

Collaboration with @tacmc.

Summary: After Cassian gets injured in the war, he’s taken to a war camp to be cared for until he gains enough strength to return to his battalion. While he’s there, he falls for a nurse that couldn’t care less about his title and doesn’t put up with his bullshit. Once he’s healed and the years pass by, he finds that there’s only one thing he wants to remember from the war, and she’s only a letter away.

Trigger Warnings: war

Chapters will be posted every Monday.

Word Count: 1696

IBSY Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist 

Nesta had no idea what had happened.

She was shaken awake in the middle of the night by one of the night nurses, quickly hurrying her out of the tent she shared with a few other nurses in hushed tones. She pulled her robe around her tighter, the nightgown she wore was perfectly fine with the warm fire crackling in the hearth, but in the crisp autumn air, it left her shivering.

As did the reason she’d been awakened in the middle of the night. One of her patients she’d been solely residing over had taken an unexpected turn at some point in the evening. Infection. Fever.

She felt shaky and hollow as she pushed through the tent flaps. She knew it made her a horrible person, but she couldn’t help but pray it was anyone except—

There were two nurses hovering beside Cassian’s cot and she thought she was going to be physically sick.

“What’s happened?” Nesta asked as she approached. It had been meant to have been firm, direct, but it came out shaky.

“He was sleeping peacefully, but then he started to stir and groan,” Claire explained. “When I came over he was drenched in sweat. I checked the gunshot wounds on his back and the burns. There were no bandages. I’m not sure how he had gotten them off—.”

A ringing in Nesta’s ears drowned out the rest of Claire’s words, but it didn’t matter what the nurse said, Nesta knew the cause of Cassian’s downfall.

It had been her.

She had been cleaning his wounds when the soldier had been rushed in earlier that morning, had left Cassian to help. When the soldier had died, Madja had ordered Nesta to go clean up and she had left the tent…

It had all happened so fast.

She had lost a life, and it distracted her from her thoughts, her further duties.

She had never gone back to finish cleaning and bandaging his wounds.

And, of course, Cassian had said nothing.

“I didn’t know what to—.”

Nesta cut Claire off, shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts. She knew she was to blame, but wouldn’t alert Claire to that knowledge. “He needs a dose of penicillin, maybe two, depending on how far the infection has spread.”

Claire nodded, the other two nurses having moved on to check on other patients, most of whom slept peacefully. When she kept standing there, nodding, Nesta snapped, “Now, please.”

She blinked and was off, hurrying to the medical cabinet in the center of the tent.

Leaning down over his bed, Nesta placed a hand on either side of his face. “Cassian?”

His skin was hot, clammy and he was covered in sweat. She swore quietly. He felt like he’d been lying in front of a furnace for a few hours.

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t rise to consciousness.

Claire returned, a syringe in one hand and a glass bottle in the other. Nesta took it, surprised by how steady her hands were. She felt as if they should be as shaky as her breathing had become, but she quickly and efficiently administered the dose, holding a small piece of gauze over his arm where she’d stuck him.

“Should I… Would you like to go back to bed?” Claire asked. “I can watch him while I make my rounds.”

Nesta shook her head as she sat down in the chair next to the cot. “No, I— I need to stay with him.”

Claire hesitated, but nodded and excused herself.

Nesta would wait with him, would keep him company, because it was all her fault.

She told herself that was the only reason, but as she reached up to brush his damp hair back, she knew she was only fooling herself.

But fool herself, she would.

This was war. He was a soldier. Aside from being completely inappropriate, considering she was his nurse, one should never get involved with a soldier.

It often only led to heartbreak.

His face was flushed, even though his lips were bloodless, and he looked so…frail. Even when he’d first been brought in, bloody and burned, he hadn’t looked so helpless. Nesta couldn’t look away from him.

She knew no one else was around, knew the other nurses may have been nosy and curious, but they would give Nesta this privacy. And because of that she reached out and took his hand, gently holding it in hers.

Was it really just earlier in the day that he’d held her hand after coming to check on her after that poor soldier had passed? The thought, that he considered her feelings more important than his own healing, had her fingers tightening around his.

I could see myself loving a woman like you.

She tried not to think about the thrill his words sent through her, then or now. It was highly inappropriate, especially considering they barely knew each other. But there was just…something about him. She reached out with her free hand and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. Still clammy. Still burning up.

Again, his eyelids shifted, but they didn’t open. The penicillin would keep him down for a while.

She wouldn’t be sleeping, though. Not any time soon.

With a defeated sigh, Nesta took the book off of the small table by Cassian’s cot. He had read a little more that afternoon, it had seemed. He was nearing chapter six, and Nesta couldn’t wait to see his reaction to the coming chapters.

Especially in regards to his beloved Daisy.

She opened to the page he was on and took out the leather strap that marked it. It was old and worn, and she found herself wondering how long he’d had it, how long it had held his hair back. She wondered how long he’d had long hair. She assumed always. It was hard to imagine him with short hair.

It just wouldn’t look right.

He stirred on the cot before her, and Nesta’s eyes jerked up to him, but he still didn’t wake. She watched him for another moment, making sure he was sleeping peacefully, then looked back down at the scrap of leather in her hand.

It occurred to her how little she knew about him then. She knew about his mother and lack of a father, but he’d mentioned brothers. Were they blood or was it more in a camaraderie sort of way? And who were they? Did he love them the way she loved her own sisters?

Perhaps she had been selfish thus far, in asking so little about him. Usually the man never shut up, was always making sarcastic remarks with his raunchy humor, and now as he lay unconscious, she wanted him to speak.

She wanted to ask him questions.

He mentioned Velaris, but Nesta had only been there once as a child and didn’t remember much from it. She wanted to ask him about it, ask him what it was like growing up in the famous City of Starlight.

She wanted to ask about those brothers of his, if he had any other siblings, and how his mother, who had never married, survived it, living in the world that they did.

She wanted to ask if he’d ever had any pets, what his favorite subject was in school, if he’d ever broken a bone or climbed a tree for fun or been in an airplane.

She wanted to know where this scrap of leather came from that she had been fiddling in between her fingers for far too long.

Eventually, she rested her head against her own arm, still holding onto his fingers in one hand and clutching that strap of leather in the other. It didn’t take long before she was asleep herself.

A few hours later, a firm hand on her shoulder had her jolting awake. She sat up quickly, finding Madja standing behind her.

Standing, she cleared her throat, releasing Cassian’s hand, still holding onto that piece of leather. “Madja, I—.”

A gentle smile was on the old healer's face. “You should get changed, Nesta.”

Glancing down at her open robe and nightgown, Nesta blushed and nodded, before replacing the strap of leather in the book she’d leant to him.

The sun was up, but the chill in the air told her it hadn’t been for long. She hurried across the camp to the tent she shared with a few other nurses. Quickly changing, she tied a fresh apron around her waist and was surprised to find Madja standing outside the tent as she emerged, still braiding her hair back.

“Walk with me,” she said, and took off, not waiting to see if she followed.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel like she was a child about to be scolded.

“There is no rule stating you can’t have feelings for your patient, Nesta,” she said, glancing over at her.

Nesta blinked, not expecting her to be so blunt. She immediately went on the defensive. “I don’t have—.”

Madja gave her a look that told her the woman knew she was full of shit. She went on. ��This isn’t a formal job. There is no rule book saying you can’t fraternize with others. He’s very handsome, and it’s clear he’s taken quite a shine to you. But remember where we are, what we’re doing. Why we’re here.”

Nesta nodded, hesitantly.

She knew.

The soldiers came in, they healed, and they left, went back to war.

And that’s exactly what Cassian would do, Nesta was fully aware of that fact. There was no romance, there was no happily ever after, not when it came to war.

“I just want you to be careful,” Madja continued, her voice gentle. “I have seen young women, time and time again, fall for men who did not come home. It is okay to feel for another, my dear, but you must remember the risks.”

The risks. It was a long list.

“I was not planning on anything happening between myself and the Major,” Nesta said, at last.

Madja’s smile was soft. “That’s always when it happens, Nesta. When no plans are made.”