#it all takes a lot of work and effort and its all worth clapping for

[ophernelia]

bye i'm settling in for the evening and popped on the newest episode of mj's "the way life goes" series and i see he shouted out all the wonderful machinima makers and i was on the list??? hello????? now i'm crying

[moondirti]

big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.

if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.

and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.

so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.

it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?

granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.

jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.

until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.

because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.

by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.

it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.

and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.

johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?

he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.

"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."

he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.

besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.

but–

"are you a doctor?"

"n-no."

"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."

he just can't help himself.

over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.

his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.

on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.

then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.

"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?

"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."

"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."

and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:

you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"

ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.

"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.

"hm."

"is this how it usually-"

"sometimes."

"oh."

"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.

a few moments later, you speak up again.

"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."

he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.

"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."

you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."

and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.

if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.

[leo-interactive-fiction]

hi!! just recently started reading triaina academy and i’m so into it!! feel free to ignore this, but how do you think the ROs would be with a florist S/O?? my friend was like “E is the kind of person to get flowers for their s/o despite hay fever” after our run together and it got me thinking!! thank you so much for making the game!

Haha let's see...

---

E stoops down, taking in the aroma of flora blossoming along your windowsill. A blissfully nostalgic look passes across their face. "Did you know these were my favorite?"

"Of course I did, that's why they're here," you admit, your face turning away instinctively as they look at you. Even if you can't see it, you'd bet the burning sensation across your face seared just as brightly in E's freckled complexion as the two of you sit in awkward silence.

E clears their throat, "D-Do they need more water? Let's give them more water!"

"I can--" your hands brush against each other along the handle of the water can, and you're unsure which one of you squealed first.

------

"Hmm, never seen one like this before?" R studies a vivid blue flow, it's petals turning upward as it transitions to a deep red at its edges.

"It's native to Hospur. It's actually very difficult to grow outside of its climate," you say proudly, and R offers a soft clap at your achievement.

"Well, well, quite the green thumb. I can appreciate someone with dedication, though I suppose I'll have to live with being second fiddle to the flower garden," R bemoans jokingly.

You tilt your hand in a so-so expression, "You could work your way to a close draw if you play your cards right."

---------

L looks over the flowers idly before stopping at one they recognize, "A Bleeding Crown? I was led to believe those only grew in Hospur."

You shrug your shoulders, "it took some time, and a lot of attempts, but I got one to grow. You could say it's a prized part of the garden."

L's eyes widen, "Fascinating! I've little knowledge of flora, but I could imagine the difficulty. There's a garden of them back home, but I am told it takes a significant amount of dedication to have them bloom. You must have a significant gift." L beams at you, causing an awkward fluttering in the pit of your stomach that you reactively suppress.

"It's...not that big of a deal."

"On the contrary, I believe you've found a true calling. I would love to see you pursue it more often. I find the rest of your flowers just as beautiful."

------

V's face remains expressionless as you show them the small row of potted plants. They reach towards one, and your heart begins to sink as they pluck one of the nurtured flowers and pop it in their mouth to gnaw on.

"V, what are you doing?!" You quickly move to stop them. V makes a subtly sour expression as they take the flower out of their mouth.

"It tastes bad."

"You're not supposed to eat them!"

"You said it was a garden. Isn't it food?"

"Not this garden, no. This is for appreciating. For looking nice. Look, isn't this pretty?" You show a small arrangement of rotund blossoms creating a colorful canvas in one of the pots.

"If you think so."

"Do you think so?" You nudge.

V stares hard at the pot, their steel eyes searching for something in vain, "I...don't know."

-------

"Is this what you've been so busy with?" P ticks with irritation, "I've been knocking for 5 minutes, you asshat."

"Sorry, I must've gotten caught up tending to this one."

"That one flower really worth all that effort?"

You tense defensively, "Maybe not to you."

"I'm not asking myself, Dumbass."

You slowly shift your stance, revealing the Hospian flower, "It's taken me 4 years just to get it to bloom. It's not made for this climate. It was a miracle this one made it to adulthood."

P looks silently at the flower for a moment before shaking their head dismissively. "That seems like a pretty fragile existence. But I can respect a weed that grows wherever it wants. Just hurry it up, the dorm's dinner is waiting, and I'm not saving you a plate."

You give a small smile, "Thanks."

"Thank me by getting the fuck to the table." P waves off.

--------

M leans down next to you, inspecting the flower you're tending with a drawn hum, "I didn't know...you liked...flowers...they're very...beautiful..."

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks from M's close whispering proximity, "Ah, uh, t-thank you. It's taken a long time to get it to bloom."

"You know...they say...beautiful flowers...only grow...from beautiful people..."

"I've...never heard anyone say that before."

"Well...you heard...me...right...? Good...enough..." M chuckles as they slide slightly closer and plant a soft kiss on your cheek.

--------

As you show Raven the small rows of potted plants they clap excitedly.

"Oh yes, the flowers! I'm glad I can see them so close this time. They're very pretty!"

You pause for a moment, "You've seen them before?"

"Only on my window watching days!" Raven takes the silent pause between you as indication to reassure you, "Don't worry, I cover my ears when you talk to your plants! Your privacy is completely safe!"

--------

S holds up one of the small pots high in the air like a trophy, "Ain't this a beauty! Ya got a real knack, don't'cha?"

You wince nervously at their erratic movements, "Er, just, be careful with that--"

"Eh, what'd'ya-- Ah--" S cuts themselves off as the pot slips from their fingers, and it shatters unceremoniously on the ground. Soil and rooted stems spill onto the ground in a depressing heap

You stare unbelieving, "Did you just..."

"Uhh, no! No? Okay, I mighta still had some grease left over on my hand. Just a lil bit. Happens to the best of us, ya know?"

--------

F browses your miniature garden with silent discernment, looking at the flowers from a respectful distance. They don't dare to even touch a leaf.

Eventually, you break the silence, "What do you think?"

"It's...modest. Certainly no royal garden," they murmur, "Though I can see...some potential." They say this last line with a thin smile that they quickly turn away to hide. "Perhaps you would find the benefits in learning how Frenza nurtures their flora."

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: AIC 13

She'd expected a morgue. Stupidly, perhaps, considering the scale of destruction. Kirigakure shinobi were piling the bodies in a spot on the outskirts of town near the crematorium.

'That's efficient, but still depressing. Sounds exactly like Kiri at its best, I guess.'

Aiko moved a little faster, and hoped that the smoke coming out of the building was just from warming up the ovens and not evidence that they'd already started. She was… She was nervous about this. She had a lot, but she didn't know how far her chakra would go.

'I wish Sanbi-san had agreed to help.'

The grizzled civilian woman who was directing things looked up from her attempts to label bodies. She scowled at Aiko's questions, but must have decided that it wasn't worth arguing with the type of person who showed up to interrogate someone in her underpants.

"We've just gotten started," the old woman said flatly. "It takes time to heat up, and it is preferable to be able to contact survivors or at least know who we are burning."

"So, how many have you burned?" Aiko pressed. She finished her coffee and passed it off to Utakata wordlessly.

"Three, so far." The woman scowled up at her. "Now, go away. I have work to do. There are too many bodies to waste time talking. I must work, or we will all be breathing in corpse rot. Rubble will be the least of our problems if we allow such sickness in the village."

"Good point, stop working on it anyway." Aiko swallowed, ignoring the indignant reply. Three. She… She'd leave those for last. She didn't know if she'd have the energy for them. It was better to save as many people as possible, right?

Every way that she considered it seemed highly unethical. She didn't think she could save everyone. She wanted to, but she didn't think it was possible. How could she choose who should live?

'Honestly, I should be strategic about it. Get profiles, give preferential treatment to upper level shinobi and more valuable citizens.'

It seemed the most intelligent option. But that would waste time. In trying to optimize the aid, she would actually sabotage her efforts. Besides, it would… it would be really shitty to choose some people as more valuable than others.

So. Whoever she saw first, really. Possibly whoever was least damaged, so as to save her energy to help as many as possible. Luck of the draw, as it were.

Mind whirring, Aiko ignored the protestations and strode into the furthest section, where bodies had first been laid. She took a moment to glance back at her audience. Mei stopped, arms folded, and stayed back a distance. The gaggle of jounin she'd found were looking rather unimpressed at being called away from their work to watch a half-naked madwoman poke around corpses, but Aiko paid them no mind.

Utakata seemed most nervous. It might have been for her sake, or it might have been because of the black stares he was getting. He stood closest to her, but pressed his back against the fence border in what she recognized as an attempt to make sure she had room to conduct her summoning.

'Right. I should start.'

She clapped her hands together, and was a half second from beginning when a young jounin stepped forward. "So you're the new jinchuuriki?" he pressed. Aiko stiffened at the pointed once-over he gave her, skimming deliberately over the seal on her stomach. "I don't know your face. Why would we want a stranger to be our leader?"

'He's willing to point that out before Mei calls a vote?' Aiko paused.��'That one's not a total idiot. I should remember his face for later.'

She considered lying. Mei and Utakata had suggested it. It would smooth the transition.

'On the other hand, if they categorically refuse me, they might accept Mei. Better a failed Kiri nin than a triumphant foreigner, I would think.'

"No," Aiko said finally. "You don't know me because I'm not a Kiri nin. I'm an Uzumaki."

Mei didn't quite grit her teeth, but the sentiment was there.

The way the audience reacted to that was odd. Aiko had expected outrage. Derision, perhaps, or even disbelief that anyone would put forward such a ridiculous candidate. That was mostly how she felt, after all.

Most of the on-lookers had very purposeful lacks of reaction. The young man who had been questioning her looked shocked when her words seemed to register- maybe a little fearful.

'Wonder what he thought I meant. I can't quite tell what that reaction was.'

Just for the hell of it, she flickered the Rinnegan on without looking away and watched him recoil. But she didn't want to use that for longer than necessary so she quickly turned away, pulling her teeth across her palm for the blood sacrifice. By the time it dripped, her fingers already working through familiar seals. She slammed her palms into the ground and-

someone screamed. A civilian, possibly. She'd forgotten they were around. Aiko swallowed, not breaking eye contact with the death god as he grew up, up, up. He had emerged higher than she'd seen before. Not only his head and neck were above ground, but she could see his shoulders and half of his torso.

'What does that mean? Does he come up further every time that I summon him?'

She didn't know what that meant. She didn't really want to know. It didn't seem like it would mean anything good.

'Doing this with an audience is weird. I've only ever done this in front of… Actually, in front of Utakata both times. He doesn't count.'

"Good morning, kami-sama. Normally, I'd use names." Aiko gestured at the area around them, feeling a little stupid but trying to keep it off her face. She didn't look at anyone but the death god. "You don't need them, though, do you? I want these people back. As many of them as my chakra can buy."

His eyes bled purple, filling the white spaces between the concentric rings in his eyes. She couldn't breathe, she was inhaling but there was no air and the sky was shockingly vivid.

Someone gasped. She heard what sounded suspiciously like a weapon being drawn, but nothing came of it.

Aiko swallowed. Her head was spinning. The world was too bright and she was having an enormously difficult time keeping her eyes open. She must have lost several seconds there- dead people were sitting up and making questioning sounds, or staring as the late-bloomers began to breathe. A child on the ground was growing skin. The enormous man who had been shoved in the corner looked even bigger when a new bone shot out of his shoulder joint, jostling his neighbor. She blinked and focused on that. It was like what had happened to Fuu. The bone came first, then veins and cartilage sprouted. Muscle bled into place in the gaps and then grew over before changing consistency into adipose tissue and finally dermis.

She turned back to the death god. He was regarding her, sullen and implacable as ever. Aiko pressed her hands into her thighs and managed a decent bow. Somehow, she straightened without falling.

The death god might have given the slightest tilt of his head before he dematerialized.

Kirigakure was quiet. She surveyed the area. Almost all of the corpses were breathing now. Some were on their feet clinging to each other. Others were in what seemed to be a deep, healing sleep.

She counted four. Four people who still weren't moving.

'I failed.'

Plus the ones who had already been cremated. That was… There was no possible way. It would take days before her chakra returned to even half strength. By that point, all the bodies would be in such a poor state that it would be a struggle to restore even one.

And what about Zabuza? She hadn't even heard what had happened to his body. Probably nothing good.

'People are going to resent me for this. It seems unfair. It is unfair.'

There was a scuffling sound behind her. Wearily, Aiko turned.

The jounin who had questioned her was pale as marble and trembling. The sound she'd heard had been his knees hitting the ground. The others were following suit, but the person who stuck out was Mei.

Mei's mouth worked silently. She swallowed it quickly, but for a second she looked absolutely furious. The woman who should have been Mizukage faltered before she bowed. "Godaime-sama."

She was sworn in there, with blood congealing against her left hand and the weight of failure on her shoulders. It didn't seem real.

The rest of the day was a blur. There was screaming and crying when the formerly dead shinobi and civilians came stumbling out to help pull survivors from rubble and catalog damage. Word seemed to get around relatively fast, judging by the staring and whispers, but Aiko didn't have time to linger on that. With Utakata's help, she commandeered Yagura's family home as a base of operations. She would have preferred to spend time helping people, but it was apparent that she needed to sit down before she lost consciousness.

The things that helped with chakra exhaustion- bedrest, a talented medical ninja, nutritious food- were in short supply or just plain unavailable. Resources had been scarce even before two bijuu had toppled part of town. With the dire situation, she couldn't spare the time to lay down and sleep for a day, and Kiri's medical experts were inexpert enough that Aiko might not have visited them even if they weren't over-busy.

'I'll need to do something about that,' she decided tiredly. 'It's unacceptable. Konoha's medical care is much better. We don't have Tsunade, but we can be better than we are.'

Of course, other things were just as important. Housing had to be completed immediately. Businesses needed to be restored and staffed- something must be done about the food shortages, post-haste. They desperately needed an influx to the population- they needed civilians even more than they needed shinobi. And the Academy system would need to be re-designed from the ground up. There was no trust in the institution, which was probably why the enrollment numbers that Aiko found were so pitiful.

Kirigakure was being crushed under its own weight. It was a wonder that this wasn't common knowledge. How had Mei done what she'd done without letting on to their internal weakness?

'It took her years to gain healthy self-sufficiency. That's probably why she had so many dissidents. No matter what she solved, the other issues were just as pressing.'

What to prioritize? What could help the village cling to life while other improvements were in the works?

'Food,' Aiko decided. 'Food and social welfare. I can't rule over a city where people are starving in the streets.'

In the long term, Kirigakure needed to revitalize the seaweed gathering and fishing industry that had historically been their lifeblood, and restore trade for the many products that were not viable to produce internally. In the short term- they desperately needed an infusion of life-sustaining trade. Pity they didn't have the money to buy it.

'I'm getting off topic.' She fisted her hands in her hair and breathed deeply through her nose. She needed to focus. It was- that was hard, when all her body wanted to do was refill and rest.

It would probably help if she deactivated the Rinnegan.

Aiko stifled a snort at her own expense. Chakra exhaustion made her rather slow on the uptake, it seemed. Luckily, no one else was in the room at moment. "I'm such a bonehead," she mumbled. "No wonder I feel just as bad as I did then." She closed her eyes to shut off the Rinnegan chakra feed, and then opened them.

She froze.

In her mind, Aiko knew perfectly well that it was around noon. The sun was high overhead, and painting licks of heat across her shoulders from the open window. But the room was nearly pitch black. When she focused, she could see the papers that she had been reading. And by that, she meant that she could see white blobs with dark blurs of text.

'So that's not great.'

Things continued to be not great.

Once all the work for the day was done and she was finally alone, Aiko turned the Rinnegan off again and laid in the dark. It was night. She wouldn't have been able to see anyway. And yet, it was terrifying. She felt nauseous. She felt tempted to turn the Rinnegan back on, even as she slept.

'No. That's stupid. I'll regenerate chakra much faster without it.'

It wouldn't matter when she was asleep. It wouldn't matter once she was asleep. Aiko repeated that like a mantra until she did drift off. It was an uneasy sleep, punctuated by several brief periods of waking. She didn't know if it was day or night- so every time, she used the Rinnegan. It was still dark.

When the sun finally did rouse her, she knew it. The room had warmed and she could hear gulls.

"We need a solution." The chuunin administrative assistant put her hands on her lap to keep from fidgeting with the paper splayed out. "The numbers suggest that we will have to switch to half-rations sooner than later, unless you wish to re-open the borders."

Aiko pressed her lips into a thin line.

That was… not ideal. They desperately needed an influx of trade, yes. But the longer it could be put off, the better. Mist didn't have strong allies, and she was weak- another village could easily try to get rid of competition, or to make a name for themselves by crushing one of the major centers of power. The normal, common-sense thing to do would be to appeal to the Daimyo.

Pity that Yagura had murdered him and his household. The islands were only subject to the Mizukage, now. There was no one to go to for help. Any appeal to another nation would come at great risk, and it would not come cheaply. Since Mizugakure was unable to pay, she didn't want to think about what concessions they might have to suffer.

"Godaime-sama, there are other matters regarding upcoming international events." The chuunin paused for approval.

Aiko waved her on.

If it weren't for the way the younger woman never looked near the Rinnegan, Aiko might have thought the chuunin was perfectly at ease.

'She did work for Yagura. Most of his staff probably have excellent poker faces.'

The woman nodded. "Your predecessor committed to sending one genin team to the chuunin examinations being held in Konoha. It will be difficult to withdraw without losing international standing. People will wonder why."

Of course they would.

"We won't withdraw," Aiko confirmed distantly. Konoha. Whatever problems they might have, they'd never experienced widespread hunger in her lifetime. Fire country was blessed with more rich farmland than any other nation. They didn't cultivate it all, of course, but they certainly used enough to keep their people fed and trade a significant portion.

'That would be the country I would look to, optimally. I don't think it's just my history biasing me, either. Under the Sandaime Hokage, Konoha is unlikely to commit to aggressive action. They're less dangerous than the other powers, in that respect. And they're prosperous.'

It was amazing, in a way, that Orochimaru had managed to convince Sand to turn against them at the invasion. They had become strong in twelve long years of peace. But perhaps Sand had been desperate- they were not rich in resources, either. It could be that they had seen the raid as worth the risk.

'It did work out for them, to be fair. Even after they committed to the invasion, Konoha forgave them because they needed the allies. They ended up getting plenty of assistance after the fact. That hospital exchange program, and trade, and…'

Her thoughts trailed off.

Oh, no. It was too terrible. Sand was a good ally for Konoha, in the end. Once Gaara straightened his head out, he became a temperate ruler and a powerful friend. Interfering with that would definitely harm Sand, and probably benefit Konoha less than Sand could.

'But I'm not looking out for Fire country, or for Sand. I'm looking out for Mist.'

And what Mist needed was exactly what Konoha had.

She knew up-front that it was unethical. But it was her job, wasn'it it? And it seemed remarkably viable. All she had to do was be in the right place at the right time.

Honestly… It should be simple.

Konoha would certainly prefer to ally with Mist than Sand, after the invasion. They had only turned back to the former ally the first time around out of desperation. How easily would the Hokage jump at a good-faith offer by someone who hadn't recently colluded with Orochimaru?

With the kazekage dead, Suna would need that alliance desperately.

'But that sounds suspiciously like someone else's problem.'

"Saito-san," Aiko said. The chuunin startled when she realized Aiko knew her name. "Tell me about the genin team going to Konoha." She paused. "And their jounin sensei."

Saito gave her an incredulous look.

It turned out to be a good thing that she wasn't posing as a Mist-nin. A local would have known that genin cells under a jounin were not the default arrangement in Kiri. Mist still favored apprentice and master relationships to a larger degree than Konoha did.

'I should have realized,' Aiko thought with some chagrin. 'All the Kiri nin whose educational history I know anything about were either an apprentice or had one.'

She didn't know anything about Mei, of course. But Utakata, Zabuza, Haku, and Kisame had all come from that type of system. That seemed to indicate that was how things done in the upper echelons, for certain, and possibly on down throughout the system.

As she found out, apprenticeships were important precisely because they weren't guaranteed. In order to catch the eye of a powerful sponsor, a genin had to be promising in some regard.

The team they were sending to Konoha was not considered promising. They were an all-male cell ranging from 16 to 19 years of age. They were certainly chuunin level shinobi, but that was matter-of-course: Kiri would not send anyone to represent them who seemed likely to fail.

'I don't even remember them from the exams. They must not have performed well.' Aiko frowned up at the teenagers in her home office, cataloging the features she could see behind aquatic breathing masks. Not water chakra types, then.

They seemed… Well. To be perfectly frank, they seemed terrified. But that was most likely attributable to the fact that Yagura was the only Mizukage who they had served.

'Also, I did release bijuu that tore up the administrative and business districts,' Aiko thought fairly. 'That was three days ago. They probably remember.'

"I will be accompanying you to Konoha."

That statement, however mildly delivered, caused the tallest genin to break out in a cold sweat.

Aiko somehow resisted the urge to roll her eyes. That would probably be incredibly creepy with the Rinnegan. The awful, chakra-draining, headache-giving Rinnegan. The eyes that made her look like a total freak, but also allowed her to see.

"I will be acting in a capacity as your jounin sensei,in line with Konoha's sensibilities."

And at that, all three of them startled. Saito-san jerked as well, fingers white against her folders.

She did roll her eyes. "This is no longer about the Chuunin examinations. I have reason to believe that Sunagakure and a smaller village will be launching an attack on the event. Likely, at the culminating tournament. I expect at least one of you to make it through the elimination rounds to give us a reason to remain." Aiko looked at them, one by one. "We can use this opportunity. Be aware that the change in Mizukage is classified information. You will give no one reason to suspect that leadership has transferred."

Two of them nodded a little too enthusiastically. The last one couldn't seem to look away. The whites around his eyes were showing.

'I suppose an invasion might be a little shocking. They are genin. They probably haven't seen large-scale conflict.'

Because that made her feel a little bad, but mostly to seal the deal, Aiko sweetened the pot. "This mission is critical to Kirigakure's continued survival. If you impress me, you can look forward to more than a promotion."

And that was all it took.

[hoonhrt]

EMBRASSE-MOI

: pairing — student! jay x tutor! reader

: genre — fluff, crack 

: song recc. — L’amour by Miel De Montagne 

: a/n — this lowkey sucks but I've been wanting to get work out so I'm sorry if this isn't the best :(( also I'm still learning french so if some of it is wrong pls lmk so i can fix it!! 

Jay was your school’s resident bad boy. blond hair, all-black outfits, cuts class and yells at kids that look his way. you know? the usual. You on the other hand were the complete opposite. straight-A student. A quiet kid who didn’t dare look the ways of Jay Park and his Clique™. So imagine the shock that was felt when the boy you avoided at all costs, walks up to you in the middle of the cafeteria asking for French lessons. 

“You want me to do what?” He rolls his eyes, tired of this conversation already. 

“Can you not hear? I’m failing French and I need to pass or else my parents won’t let me move to France.” He speaks as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“And you’re asking me why?” He rolls his eyes again for what felt like the 100th time. You’re just confused about how he even knows of your existence.

“Listen, all I know that you’re in my French class and that you pay attention, I’ll even pay you I just need to get my mark up.” You perk up to the sound of money. You don’t really need but it’s still nice to have some. Doing this will get you good Karma right? 

“Fine. Meet me at the library every Monday and Wednesday after class, got it?” Jay stares at you with annoyance. He really does not want to be wasting his senior year on stupid lessons but, here we are. He reluctantly agrees and watches you walk away, struggling to hold your books in your arms. He turns around and lets out a deep sigh, wondering if the hot chicks and fancy baguettes in France are really worth this

Minutes turned into hours as you waited for Jay to show up. You waited patiently for hours just for this kid to not show up. Annoyed, you start to pack up your books. You don’t know why you’d think someone like Jay would actually show up to a voluntary tutor session. You were just about to make your way out of the library when you see someone running towards you almost like the flash. As the figure got closer to your still body, you realize it was Jay. Now, bent over in front of you gasping for air with his tongue out like a dog. You stared at his limped-over figure with confusion and slight disgust. 

“s-s-sorry i was… late, i f-forgot about… this.” he manages to speak out with the little air he has in him. He stands up and evens out his breath. 

“what makes you think i’m gonna tutor you now? you wasted my time Park, i have a life too you know.” you snap at him. He stares at you for a brief second before letting out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back and slapping his leg. He sees your serious expression, your eyes glaring at him like an eagle and awkwardly stops laughing. 

“Look, i’m paying you and this is only gonna last for a little while. i just need to pass, that’s it.” His eyes shine with a hopeful gleam, a look that is extremely rare to see from Jay Park. He looked a little cute. You dramatically sigh and start walking into the library, Jay following behind you. 

You settle at the table you sat at prior, re-opening your book bag to pull out your notes. He just watches you do that, not making an effort to even bring out a pencil. 

“Okay, so how much french do you even know?” 

He stares into space, a little hesitant to continue. “Um, i can ask if i can go to the bathroom?” You stare at him with disbelief. You’ve been in this class with him for months and that’s all he knows. 

“THAT’S IT?” 

“Oh and i can say good morning!” you let out a loud groan that catches the attention of others around, causing them to loudly shush at you. Feeling annoyed again, you contemplate if the money was really worth it. You sigh out and start looking for your notes from the beginning of the semester. This was gonna take a LONG time. 

“... and that’s how you conjugate verbs in the past tense, aka passé composé!” You finish off the session with joy. Jay on the other hand has gone completely blank, not remembering a single word you just told him. He stares down at his notes, then at you, then back down at his notes. You can see the struggle on his face and he hasn’t said a word yet. 

“I’m never gonna pass french. This is it. I can kiss France goodbye.” he claims with despair. This already too hard for him and he barely has learned anything. He sets his head on the table and mumbles to himself about how he will never be happy if he doesn’t live his youthful 20’s in France. You sat across from him irritated with his discouraging behaviour and a little sad that you weren’t able to teach him well. Until you come up with a plan that might help him improve much quicker.  

“What if… we hang out this weekend? We can do something and we’ll only speak in French! Of course I’ll help you and all that. But like, maybe? Only if you want to of course you probably don’t wanna spend your weekend with me i dont know you know its just a plan.” you ramble on and on without stopping and Jay simply just watches you. He smirks a little before nodding. 

“How about you put your number in my phone and then I’ll text you when I’m free hm?” he slides his phone across the table towards you and eyes you typing it in. He catches a glimpse of your rose-coloured cheeks and smirks a little more. 

“Okay, uh there’s my number! Just um, text me you know, when you’re free!” you manage to stutter out. Jay just nods at you and again, watches you walk away. This time a slight smile across his face. 

A sudden notification pulls you away from your thoughts. An unknown number that you had a feeling belonged to a particular boy you didn’t think would actually text you. 

042-002-1130: bonjour 

042-002-1130: was that even right

042-002-1130: anyways I’m free on saturday if you wanna hang ig 

042-002-1130: samedi is saturday right 

042-002-1130: it is wow im such a genius 

You let out a snort at his cocky behaviour and reply back, letting him know that you were free yourself and to meet you at the school grounds at 2 pm. 

Saturday shows up as you wait outside the school gates, a picnic basket in hand. An all-black car with dark tinted windows zooms up to you. The window is pulled down and alas, the handsome boy sits in the driver’s seat, ushering you to get into the car with his hand. 

“Woah a picnic basket? Listen y/n you’re cool and all but this isn’t a date,” he speaks and notices you roll your eyes. A smug smile tugging his lips. 

“No you asshole, I have a plan with this.” 

“Tell me,” Jay begins to drive away from the school. The destination is unknown to you but extremely familiar to the boy next to you. 

“In here there is a bunch of food, in order for you to eat, you’re gonna have to say the name of the food in french.” He turns his head to see you looking back at him, a sweet smile places on your face. Jay has always known of you. You sat in the back of the classroom, handed in all your work on time and never skipped a class. You had very few friends and always seemed to be lost in a dream world when you weren’t working. Jay had never been able to speak to you personally as you always avoided him but know he has the chance to actually talk to you, and he doesn’t wanna mess it up. 

The car stopped at the edge of a giant grassy field. The greenery going miles ahead. Trees surrounding the two of you. Jay like a gentleman runs out of the car to open the door for you. You blush at his actions, thanking him silently by smiling at him. 

He directs you to a small spot under a tree. You lay out a blanket for you to sit on while Jay leans up against the tree. You tell him to sit down next to you as you bring out all the little snacks to share with him. He thinks that he could get used to this. 

“D’accord, commençons! Qu'est-ce que ç'est?” (okay, lets start! What is this?) 

You pick up a grape. He thinks for a little bit before answering. “Un raisin.” (a grape) You clap with glee and hand him over the grape. A silence falls between you both, unaware of how to keep going. He picks up a strawberry and brings it to your face. “Tu aime les fraises?” (do you like strawberries?) You eye him for a second, for someone who said he only knows how to ask how to go the bathroom in french, he knows quite a bit. You nod a little, opening your mouth and letting him feed you the sweet fruit. Your face matches the colour of the strawberry and he giggles. You pull out a sandwich and ask him to describe what’s in it. 

“Dans le sandwich, il y a du jambon, du beurre, et de la tomate.” (in the sandwich there is some ham, some butter, and some tomato.) He speaks confidently. 

“Trés bien Jay! Tu es bon en parler francias!” (very good Jay! You are really good at speaking French!) 

“Merci, mon Cheri.” (Thank you, my dear.) you blush even more before and shy away from Jay’s gaze. Jay being the very bold guy that he is, placing his hand underneath your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. You both just stare at each other as the sun sets behind you. Was Jay always this beautiful? His eyes scan over your face seeking for any discomfort, none is to be found. So he makes the move and starts to lean in. You already have your eyes closed and lips puckered out, ready to embrace a feeling you’ve never felt before.

His breath fans over your lips and just before he kisses you he asks “je peux t’embrasser? (can I kiss you?) you eagerly nod and whisper out “embrasse-moi.” (kiss me.) Jay finally places his lips on yours and everything feels right. Your hands find their way to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. You stay in this position with him for a little while before you pull back for air. Both his hands cradle your face, his thumb rubbing across the apples of your cheeks.

“I still have a lot to learn y’know?” Jay breaks the silence. You laugh out loud, falling into his lap. 

“Same time next week then yeah?” He lets out a ‘hmm’ and watches you rest your head against his thigh, playing with the ends of your hair. ‘Maybe France could wait a little’ he thought. 

[mrpenguinpants]

Venti and Diluc: Friendship HCs

Hi elliechan! I’ve already written friendship hcs for Venti but I never want to leave anyone hanging (unless the dupe request is incredible specific and I can’t add onto it anymore) so think of it as a part 2. But if you haven’t seen Part 1 yet, I added a link.

Also, I would like to credit fulltimeventisimp​ for helping me out with this fic. My monkey brain couldn’t think of anything for Venti but they gave me literally a fics worth of content. PLEASE IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY, MAKE IT AN ACTUAL FIC! I LOVED IT! I tried my best to not piggy back too hard off it but if it does seem that way, let me know and I’ll definitely change it. 

But thank you 💕💕💕

---

Part 1: Venti Frienship HCs

Xiao: Frienship HCs

[Masterlist]

---

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​​  @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​

Venti and Diluc: Friendship HCs

Venti

The first time you met the bard, it was when you were visiting Mondstadt as a small pit stop. He was sat on top of some wooden boxes, next to an apple vendor, singing a short ballad. You’ve never encountered bards throughout your journey and he did have a lovely singing voice so you decided to stay a bit and listen in. It felt like the wind itself was carrying his voice throughout the streets but you couldn’t help but feel a bit...melancholy from his tune. Was it homesickness? You clapped with the crowd when the bard finished and on a whim, you decided to buy him a small bag of apples. He seemed to like them as he only asked the apple vendor to gift him two for his efforts. When you paid your purchase the bard seemed to be in a deep conversation with the same vendor that you didn’t want to disturb them, after all you weren’t going to be in Mondstadt for long. So you placed the small bag of apples beside the bard’s lyre with a quick thank you note, a couple extra coins, and continued on your journey. 

You didn’t expect that small act of kindness would lead to anything but when you were preparing for bed, the same bard popped his head outside your window and almost gave you a heart attack. This bard was lucky he didn’t catch you while you were changing your clothes or else things might have turned ugly. He wanted to thank you for your generous donation which you simply waved off explaining that throughout your journey, you never met anyone that could sing quite like him. A small token of appreciation. Perhaps it was because you fed his ego too much or other reasons but that seemed to peak the bards interest and ask about what other fascinating places you’ve been too. You talked about the horrible mountain you needed to climb through to reach Mondstadt, the shining electro lamps of Inazuma that would spark if you got too close, to the clear pools and lotus heads in Liyue. 

“You’ve been around all over the place! Perhaps you would allow me to write a ballad of your conquests?”

“Hm? Is that so? Why don’t you come with me? Go outside the walls of Mondstadt and explore. So you can write your own ballad instead of others.”

“Is this another acting whim of yours?”

“Haha, perhaps.”

Unsurprisingly, you don’t see the bard the next day. It was probably a lot to suddenly ask a stranger to drop everything and come with you to unknown places. But you decided to stay in Mondstadt for a short while and see what the City of Freedom had to offer. From meeting the supposed gliding champion and learning a few pointers, to the mysterious Calvary Captain who you were sure was probably the shadiest person you’ve ever met, to the aloof red headed tavern owner. You weren’t much of a drinker but everyone in Mondstadt, especially the knights, seemed to really enjoy their wine and were incredibly friendly to strangers. On the night you were planning to leave Mondstadt, the rowdy knights you’ve became friends with decided to celebrate and urge you to drink to your hearts content (please drink responsibly haha). You must have been a bit tipsy when you met the bard for a second time, introducing himself properly as Venti. You could blame it on the alcohol when you suddenly challenged him to a drinking contest but it was the most fun you had in a while. You were pretty sure everyone got kicked out but as you leaned against Venti absolutely hammered, laughing about the silliest things, it was the most freeing feeling you’ve ever felt. 

From then on, even after you had left the City of Freedom, you could would randomly see Venti pop up sometimes. Should it be at Starsnatch Cliff or all the way in Wolvendom, you would see a few fluffy feathers appear as the bar- Venti announced his arrival. You were pretty sure Venti was bored whenever he visited you to see what you were up to but you didn’t mind. His liveliness nature was addicting and you were an easy going person. Though, some of the jokes he made, made you a bit suspicious of him. Whenever he would say that Andrius was secretly a grumpy mother hen or that Dvalin was actually a shy sweetheart.

“You sure do know a lot about Mondstadt. You sure you’re just a bard Venti?”

“Hmm, well it shouldn’t hurt to tell you. I am Barbatos. The Anemo Archon of Mondstadt. Pleasure to make your acquaintance..-again.”

“I see...and yet you still get ID checked?” 

“Rude!” 

Outside of Mondstadt, Venti is a whirlwind of emotions. Always wanting to see what’s changed or linking your hands and dragging you off to some far off chest he found. How did his small body have so much strength to nearly pop your arm out? He did come in handy during your Liyue expeditions since he can give you a small boost to just reach the top of that cliff. You thought violet grass was bad, it should be illegal for Qingxin flowers to grow on the very top of mountains. Venti thinks it’s really sweet that you put so much faith in his winds to let yourself fly when he uses his elemental skill. Though, it’s a bit of a double edged sword. When you finally reach the very top and you’re waiting for Venti to join you, he might pretend to loose control and throw himself off the cliff. You sometimes forget he’s literally the anemo archon and you’re ready to go gliding after him before he pops up in front of you to give you another scare. While he’s laughing, you’re already planning how to sneak slime condensate into his hat. 

“You should have seen your face! I didn’t know you could scream like that! Liyue must think a banshee is haunting their mountains again!”

“Watch yourself gremlin, you might wake up without hands tomorrow.”

“Haha, you wouldn’t do that...right? How would you even do that? Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

“Isn’t there a saying in Liyue Venti? You can’t run from your debts? Prepare yourself.”

For as child-like Venti appears, you both end up getting into a bit of trouble when Venti get’s a bit too bold. While it’s incredibly refreshing to see someone speak their mind regardless of the consequences, you actually kind of admire him for that, usually the boldness comes from trying to bribe the bartender for free drinks. Your poor wallet is crying out every time Venti spots a new tavern. While he say’s he will pay you back or he’ll pay you back in a song, you can’t actually eat his words. But on other occasions you can’t help but join in when it happens to be one of the Fatui guards giving you both a hard time. You feel like you’re acting out a Shakespearian play with all the flowery nonsense and metaphors you’re both spitting out. 

When you’re both in the thick of a forest or even on top of Liyue’s mountain, Venti will bring his lyre out and strum his strings softly as you both fall into a comfortable silence. Looking at the sunset or relaxing under the trees as the sun peaks through as you both live in the moment. It’s these times that you’re harshly reminded that Venti is an archon as he slips out of his persona and speaks as Barbatos. He tells you how fun your adventures have been, that he was glad to have made friends with you, speaking as if you’re about to die tomorrow. You’re not sure how to handle it, what kind of burden Venti is carrying, but you immediately drop everything and comfort him. Giving him a strong but warm hug that you’re still here and he’s not alone right now. 

“Come on, I’m still waiting for the Ballad of Venti. You haven’t given up on that right?” 

“Hmph, of course not. Every being deserves a name to be called upon, and woven into a song.”

Diluc

It was a peaceful day, one Diluc hadn’t felt in a long time in his hectic life. Though it was a bit too early to determine how the day would go since it was still noon. The tavern would soon get loud as it approached night but for now. Everything was peaceful. The sounds of Monstadt streets bustling. The peaceful atmosphere as the sun shone through the windows. Working on mundane tasks of wiping the counter down. No Kaeya in sight. A small moment of peace. All broken when his door was kicked nearly off its hinges as you announced your return from your shopping trip as if you had returned after a 3 year long journey. Diluc sighs under his breath, takes a moment to pray he doesn’t need to repair his door again, and helps you with your bags as you ramble about your day. 

To others, it’s always seems a bit weird when they catch Diluc and you chatting since Diluc always gives off the lone wolf persona and yet you’re this ball of sunshine. Maybe it’s because you knew Diluc when he was a child, back when he was still bright-eyed, that you never treated him any differently when he came back. Diluc never really talks about it but he’s happy that you’re still the same and he can let himself relax with you. He still keeps his silent demeanor as he listens to you talk about anything and everything, it helps keeps his mind occupied, but he might add a few comments here and there. Just to let you know he’s still listening. 

You know what sounds really hot? Sitting in the same room with someone while you both do your own respective thing. You both don’t feel forced to talk to each other just because you’re in the same room or you have to do everything together just because you’re together. It’s an easy atmosphere that settles as Diluc works on business papers and you’re planning your next expeditions. Until you end collapsing on his couch because your brain processing has suffered enough and it’s time to take a nap. You always end up dragging him out of his work to go outside and take a nice doze in the sun. 

If you ever have a problem, he won’t necessarily coddle you unless it really bothers you or you’re in a situation where it could hurt you, but he’ll do everything to help you work through it. You’re his friend and if someone is giving you a hard time then he has no problem chasing them away, especially if its a Fatui member. If it happens to be Kaeya, well that’s an entirely different story. Likewise, if it appears to you that Diluc is going through a rough time you’ll try and comfort him. Do small little things to let him know that you care and while he doesn’t need to tell you what’s wrong, you’re here to support him. 

Diluc enjoys playing chess against you, even if he wins most of the time, you’re always so determined that he can’t help but laugh along with your over reactions. Presenting him an entire 20 page paper on chess and yet getting checkmated in 10 turns. You’re 95% sure all the chess strategies he offered were all fake, if his smug grin is anything to go by. You both have agreed to never play darts together, well more specifically, you’re pretty sure you’re banned from playing darts when you almost hit Adelinde. That was the first time you ever genuinely feared for your life. 

Whenever Diluc has to attend a gala or has to host a party to further his business, he’s always appreciative when you show up. You’re not exactly apart of royalty or even a business owner but it’s so refreshing to Diluc, after spending so much time keeping a polite attitude and trying to talk business, when he can come to you as you laugh about how one lady almost tripped because her dress was too long. Sometimes he’ll lean a bit on you or pretend to be in a conversation just so he can recharge. 

More often then not, you’re mistaken to be Diluc partner even though the idea of holding Diluc’s hand makes you want to throw up. But when Diluc get’s random father’s trying to offer their daughter’s hands in marriage, he’ll pull the excuse he’s already with someone if they can’t no for an answer. It’s always funny to you, linking arms with Diluc and re-telling the grandiose story about how Diluc saved you from falling off a cliff when you were both younger and you were both star-crossed lovers that were destined to be together. Or something like that, you’re pretty sure you’ve changed the story enough times that you can’t keep track. But it seems to work and as soon as they are out of ear’s reach you make a quick gagging motion. He shoves you a bit to which you elbow him in the side. Old habits die hard. 

---

I swear, I could probably recite character stories word for word at this point. Gripping my writing hand don’t make it angsty, don’t make it angsty, don’t fucking do it. But I still did, whoops. 

I feel like my fics are really long so I’ll add a read more tag. Mmm writing styles are hard. I don’t know if I like this;; I ended up writing so much to try and combine my “hcs are just another word for fics just without the dialogue” and “actual headcanons” styles. Ahh, well whatever. I have to go speedrun my assignments since genshin is going to eat all my time this week. 

[funtimebunnyblog]

Always remember Pillarmen-lovers and followers alike, no matter what you like to wear or what you like to put on your body; you are absolutely stunning! 😍😍😍 You rock those tattoos, piercings, whatever you wear; wear them with your head held high! 😇🥰😘 Don't let anyone tell you otherwise!

The Pillarmen with a Female s/o with tattoos (who also gets unwanted comments about them)...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• At first, Kars doesn't quite understand the exact appeal of tattoos.

• Sure, some of them admittedly looked nice and they were art in their own respect, but they were also known to be quite painful for Humans not to mention they were something very permanent to put on the body...

• He doesn't really understand why someone would go out of their way to get something so gaudy imprinted on their skin.

• You'll have to forgive him because when you're first getting to know him as he openly looks down on you for having some of your own; especially since you're a Woman.

• He states that you should treat your body like a temple and not "graffiti" it with something so "manish" and "distasteful" which you of course simply shrug off.

• You've heard this enough times to not care.

• However, after you give him some time and he's heard any stories you happen to have behind your tats or perhaps once he sees how truly harmless it all is, he comes around.

• Kars comes to realize that they're just another piece of what made you "you" and he supposed that you could be into far worse things than just simple pictures drawn on your skin...

• Besides... he has to admit you look very beautiful with them.

• From that moment on, if anyone happens to say anything negative about your ink, he puts haters and nay-sayers alike in their place.

• "You know, it's not very ladylike to have tattoos." You could feel the sneer of the Woman behind you as she let her poisonous words drip off her tongue but you didn't turn around.

• This wasn't the first time this happened and it was better to pretend you didn't hear.

• Kars, on the other hand, didn't miss a beat. "It's also not very ladylike to make bitchy comments but it appears that would just be your whole personality." He commented, cocking an eyebrow at the now gawking Woman from over his shoulder.

• You couldn't contain the snort of laughter that burst forth, Kars smiled softly as you clung to his arm with a wheeze. The offending Woman didn't make anymore comments.

• Kars was sure that if he could open his mind to see the beauty of tattoos and learn to accept them, others should do the same.

Esidisi:

• Hands down, Esidisi absolutely ADORES your tattoos!

• He thinks they're a beautiful form of art to display on the body and that they are something definitely to be admired.

• Most especially since they're on you!

• Even from the first time you two met, he wanted to see every single one you had and hear any stories you happened to have behind them.

• Even if the stories happened to go along the lines of "I got really drunk with some friends and--"

• For quite a while he's wanted to get tattoos of his own but never really found the time, not to mention something worthwhile to get.

• Millennium ago, tattoos were in fact quite time consuming to get done (they required not only a steady hand but the patience of a Saint as well) and he couldn't waste much time when on the hunt for the Aja afterall.

• However, once introduced to the modern tattooing art and with lots of time to spare, you were what inspired him to step up and finally get a few of his own done!

• What he really wants is to get his arms covered in intricate patterns and pictures.

• In fact, Esidisi is the kind of person to want to get a matching tattoo with you or at least one with your name somewhere on his body.

• Of course, he does not stand for anyone saying anything hurtful or negative about your own tats.

• "Hey!" The yelling of the guy calling out to you from his truck as you walked down the street instinctively made you freeze for only half-a-second. "I'd fuck you if you didn't have so many tattoos, bitch!"

• His words made an ickyness swirl up from your gut to your throat. Though disgusted, you kept your face carefully neutral and tried to keep walking.

• Those kinds of deragatory comments just weren't worth the effort of fighting back.

• Esidisi, however, wasn't one to stand back and let someone disrespect you like that.

• "Yeah? And maybe somebody would actually fuck you if you had some, dickhead!" He called back, grinning as the guys mouth immediately snapped shut.

• The Pillarman's quick clap-back was enough to make a huge smile stretch across your face; only fueled by the massive hand wrapping around yours as you both kept walking.

• With Esidisi around, you would never have to waste time or energy on derogatory comments ever again.

Wamuu:

• Wamuu had only seen these "tattoos" a handful of times in his life.

• He was well aware of the art and the practice took to create them but never had them done on himself or seen the action up close.

• The very few times he had seen tattoos on someone, it was for battle purposes.

• Most often worn by great Warriors who had fought many fights and had them done to commemorate victories won or even lives lost.

• Upon meeting you and spotting your ink, Wamuu was immediately under the impression that you were a Female Warrior (a rarity) and wanted to know everything about the tapestry of "victories" on your skin.

• "This tattoo, what is its symbolism? Was this to commemorate a fight? Battle, perhaps?" He questioned, a calloused finger poking you softly in your flesh as he spoke.

• You could only blink stupidly, not quite sure what he was going on about. "Wamuu... that's Hello Kitty."

• When you explain to him that your tattoos hold no great "symbolism" or "battle tributes" it takes a while for him to wrap his head around it.

• People nowadays did this... for fun? Simply "because"? Sometimes they did it to show love or appreciation to something?

• It was a strange phenomenon but he eventually finds himself nodding his head in understanding.

• If anything, even if it isn't for a Warriors devices, he finds all tattoos unique and something to behold.

• He even starts thinking about getting one of his own simply "for fun".

• What he still doesn't understand is why there are so many people who were so closed minded concerning these things, especially towards Women like yourself.

• He doesn't appreciate it when people are rude or disrespectful to the things you like; this being no exception.

• "Ugh! You should really cover those up!" You turned your head to find another Woman pointing accusingly at one of your tattoos, an ugly scowl etched into her face. "I shouldn't have to see something so distasteful!"

• You opened your mouth, prepared to tell her to mind her business and keep going about your own when suddenly Wamuu appeared right behind her. The massive man sternly pulled a bag right over her head, completely covering her face.

• "If you do not like the look of them, then perhaps you should simply cover your eyes, Human!" He growled, leaving the rude lady to try and pull the bag off her head as he took your hand and proudly walked off with you.

• Now if only everyone could live that philosophy, life would truly be peaceful for you. Until then, you were just happy you had Wamuu to spread those words of wisdom for you.

Santana:

• Upon first meeting you, your tattoos intrigued Santana more than anything.

• He had never really seen anything of the like before encountering you.

• At first, he thought that they were simply a born pigmentation to your skin. Perhaps you were a different kind of Human alltogether? Did this hold some sort of direct link to your kind attracting a Mate?

• If the latter by chance, he had to say it was working.

• You couldn't help but laugh, watching as he traced his fingers along the shapes and pictures of your ink; he was absolutely mesmerized by the artwork stretching across the canvas of your skin.

• This was definitely MUCH more preferable than someone looking down their nose at you for having them.

• However, once you explained to him that you had them physically drawn onto your skin with ink and needles it only intrigued him more.

• He wanted to know everything about these "tattoos" including just how they were done and why exactly some people took time to get them.

• This resulted you dragging him along to a tattoo parlor so he could watch and learn first hand; which then lead to Santana getting his first tattoo shortly after on his thigh.

• "Aww, now what's a pretty girl like you doing with something so ugly like that on her skin?" The lady behind the counter who was ringing up your items smiled almost sickeningly sweet as she spoke, making you only want to roll your eyes even more.

• Oh boy, here it comes. You just couldn't walk to the store to get a bag of chips and a drink without someone making a comment, could you?

• "You know, not a lot of men like those on a pretty girl, sweetie." She continued, as if unable to see you had no interest in what she had to say what-so-ever. "Maybe you should think about that if you ever want to find someone decent, hmm?"

• Santana's wild head of hair appeared out from behind the chip rack as she spoke, lips twisting as his eyebrows narrowed. He approached the counter with a huff, snatching the bag from it as he full on glared at the cashier.

• His eyes fell onto your bare skin, to the lovely shapes and colours that sparked all these unwanted comments. "Her skin is beautiful." He said, before his eyes fell onto the cashiers bare skin, his lips only pushing further downwards. "Your skin is boring, primitive."

• The look on the cashiers face after he said that only made your snacks taste even sweeter as you sat cuddled into the Pillarmans side back at Home.

[drabbles-mc]

First Impressions

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by @eversonaive​ : Could do a fic on the reader meeting Juice when he has the sign stuck to his chest only to find out later he is the club's intelligence officer lol

Part 2 can be found Here

Warnings: language, Juice being an embarrassed lil cutie

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I loved writing this. Flustered Juice gives me life lmao. I hope it’s what you had in mind! I peppered in a couple other of our SAMCRO boys because why not?

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

SOA Taglist: @adela-topaz-caelon​ @garbinge​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @masterlistforimagines​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @xladymacbethx​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @mayans-sauce​ @shadow-of-wonder​ (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing please let me know! xo)

You couldn’t pretend that you weren’t surprised, and a little off-put by the scene in front of you. You looked around, wondering why you felt like you were the only one who saw what you were seeing. Everyone else was walking by, minding their own business, but you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t notice.

Crouching down, you pressed your fingers gently against the side of his neck, and you were rewarded with a fairly steady pulse. Relief flooded through you, glad you weren’t going to have to report a dead body. However, you weren’t quite sure how to handle the scene in front of you.

Gently nudging him, you tried to wake him up. He let out a soft groan but didn’t fully wake up. With a heavy sigh, you shook him a little harder but weren’t able to wake him. Pressing your lips together into a thin line, you patted the side of his face. You saw his brows furrow and twitch and you knew that he was almost awake.

“Hey,” you shook him and patted his cheek again, “you good?”

With a groan and what seemed like more effort than it should’ve taken, he slowly started to open his eyes. Part of you wanted to laugh because he seemed like he was probably going to be alright, but more than anything you were just confused.

“You alright? Looks like you’ve had…a time.”

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at the state of himself. The fact that he didn’t seem shocked and appalled spoke volumes. With a quiet grunt, he forced himself to his feet.

“Do I have to be worried about you?” you couldn’t help but to look him up and down again. With a chuckle and a shake of his head he reassured you that he was fine, which did little to actually make you feel better, “There somewhere I should be take you?”

He laughed, “No. Don’t worry. Thank you for, uh, waking me up. Way better than getting kicked by the cops,” he shook his head.

“Small miracles,” you had to laugh.

“Yea,” he glanced down at the sign on his chest and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he was weighing the pros and cons of ripping it off right then and there, “I should go. I’m uh,” he gestured to the cardboard, “apparently late for my eight o’clock feeding.”

You smiled and shook your head, “Well that’s unfortunate.”

With a deep breath he pulled the sign from his chest and you both cringed. He cursed under his breath from the pain of it before folding it and tucking it underneath his arm. He gave you a lopsided grin and a small wave before turning and walking in the other direction away from you. You stood there, feeling like you should be offering him a shirt, or something to at least tie around his waist, but he seemed pretty unbothered by it all, so you let him go. You shook your head to yourself as you continued on your way, unable to believe what a weird day you’d already had.

A few days went by and you hadn’t forgotten about your run-in on the street that morning. It was a tough scene to forget. You didn’t want to believe that that was going to be the first and last time you ever saw him. If nothing else, you just wanted some closure on the situation, and you also wanted to know how the hell he ended up like that.

Your mind had wandered back to that situation as you stood outside your car waiting for the tow truck. You knew that your car was on its last leg to begin with, and that you should’ve set about looking for a new one some time ago, but you just kept putting it off. The thought of shopping for one, and then paying for one was overwhelming. You were paying for it in an entirely different way now, though. You knew that fixing whatever was wrong with your car was probably going to cost more than it was worth. So, to distract yourself from thinking about that, you thought about literally anything else as you sat half propped up onto your hood.

You’d gone to Teller-Morrow one other time, maybe twice, since you’d moved just outside of Charming. You didn’t remember anything about it, though—you were in and out quick for an oil change or something equally innocuous. There weren’t a whole lot of options for mechanics to begin with, let alone ones that would also tow. Plus you figured since they were local, it wouldn’t take them too long to get to you.

About twenty minutes later the tow-truck pulled up, and you were a mix of relieved and apprehensive. Two men stepped out, and your first thought was that they couldn’t have carried themselves more differently from each other if they tried. The taller one approached you, adjusting his beanie slightly as he did, while the other scampered around to start hooking the truck up to your car.

“So,” he walked up to you, a small smile on his face for a moment as he looked at you, “what seems to be the problem?”

You chuckled and shook your head as you clocked the name stitched into his work shirt, “Well, it stopped running. That’s about all I know, Opie,” you smiled at him.

He laughed, nodding his head slightly, “Sounds like a pretty serious issue, then.”

“I’d say so.”

He glanced back to make sure that your car had been hooked up alright, “You need to be dropped off somewhere, or you got a ride?”

You sighed, resting your hand on the back of your neck as you thought, “Would I be able to ride back to the shop with you guys?”

He nodded, “Sure thing. Long as you don’t mind Kip staring at you the whole time,” he gestured over to the man who was waiting by the door of the tow truck.

You laughed, “Staring I can handle.”

When they pulled into the lot at the mechanics, Opie got out and instructed Kip to take care of the rest. He looked over to you and gestured to the office, “Gemma will get you all set up. We’ll get it right on the lift and try to figure out what’s going on.”

You nodded, “Thank you, appreciate it.”

You knocked lightly on the door to the office and she called for you to come in. She got you all squared away with your paperwork to get everything started. You let her know that if it ended up being more than a certain amount to just not bother and scrap it, or to give it back and you would take care of that part yourself. You weren’t in a position to be paying more than the car was worth. There was sympathy present in her eyes as she listened to you, nodding along. You hated the feeling of pity but you couldn’t deny that you’d landed yourself into a bit of a hole.

She was walking you back out of the office, “We’ll give you a call when we’ve got some numbers for you, sweetheart.”

“Sounds good. Thank you guys so much.”

“Need us to call you a cab?”

You shook your head, “No, no I’ll be alright. Thank you though.”

You were walking across the lot, pulling out your phone as you did to try and figure out who you were going to call to come and pick you up. There was a sudden influx of noise and voices. And despite the fact that you heard it, you still didn’t look up.

The only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was the feeling of someone’s shoulder bumping into yours. You looked up and both of you were in the middle of apologizing when your eyes met his. Neither of you could hide the shock on your faces as you took each other in.

He looked a lot different when he wasn’t coming out of a mild coma. And also when he was fully dressed with an MC kutte on. You’d missed out on the fact that he was handsome in the midst of worrying about his well-being the last time you saw him.

“Oh shit,” he laughed, “hey.”

“Uh, hey,” you couldn’t help but to stare at him, “I didn’t…expect to see you here. Or again in general, for that matter.”

Another man in a kutte appeared, draping his arm around the shoulder of the man that you were talking to, “Juicy,” he said, “who’s your friend?”

He wore his nerves on his face, “Um. She’s not, uh, she’s—”

You cut him off to save him the trouble, holding out your hand, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he let your name roll off his tongue, “nice to meet you. I’m Jax,” he paused, looking back and forth between you and the man next to him, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, “Sorry to interrupt,” you could see that he was biting back a laugh.

“No, you’re…you’re good,” you reassured him, “Nothing to interrupt. Just, um, a little surprised by,” you gestured to the two of them and to the clubhouse behind them, “all of this.”

“Well then I gotta ask,” Jax continued to stare at Juice who seemed to be getting more and more shy by the second, “how do you know Charming’s favorite Puerto Rican Intelligence Officer?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped past your lips, “Intelligence Officer?”

Jax nodded, clapping Juice on the back as though he thought he was hyping him up, “For the club, yea. Can find out anything about anyone. Also our resident tech guy.”

You chuckled, unable to lie and say that you weren’t a little impressed, “Impressive. Guess we didn’t have time to get into all that last time we met.”

“Oh?” Jax looked back and forth between the two of you, embarrassment creeping onto Juice’s features.

“Yea, he was running a behind schedule. Had places to be.”

Jax looked over at him, “Where the hell did you have to be that could’ve been more important, bro?”

Juice ran his hands down his face, knowing that he was going to have to cop to it sooner or later, “When we met I was, um…she actually…” he shook his head, “She’s the one who woke me up the other day. Made sure I was alright.”

The entire incident had clearly already faded from Jax’s memory because he looked as lost as he had been before Juice said anything. You smiled, “I made sure he eventually made it to his eight o’clock feeding.”

Recognition flashed across Jax’s face and he laughed, “Jesus. Sorry you had to be a part of that.”

“Sure, her you’ll apologize to,” Juice rolled his eyes.

“She didn’t deserve it,” Jax chuckled and shook his head, “Well it was nice meeting you, Y/N. I’ll leave Juice to try and clean up whatever mess he might’ve made.”

He walked away from the both of you and you could head him laughing to himself as he approached the rest of the guys. You and Juice stood there facing each other, neither one of you really knowing what to say.

You broke the silence, “Won’t lie to you, Juice,” it felt nice to finally be able to address him as something, “over the past few days when I’ve been trying to think about what your life was like for it to land you in that situation, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“You’ve been thinkin’ about me?” he smirked.

You laughed, rolling your eyes, “You made quite the impression,” you looked him in the eyes, “I’m glad you’re alright though.”

He chuckled, “Not the worst thing they’ve ever done to me.”

You smiled and shook your head, “Well that’s a little concerning.”

“Sorry you got, uh, subjected to that,” he shook his head, “wrong place, wrong time.”

You waited for him to meet your gaze and you flashed him a smile, “I wouldn’t quite say that.”

There was a light in his eyes that was so enticing, “Right. Well. I’m glad I got a chance to make a better first impression. Sort of. Maybe,” he laughed. There were a few beats of silence before he spoke up again, “What brings you here anyway?”

You nodded towards the garage, “Car broke down.”

“Shit.”

Your laugh was a hollow, “Yea. Fucking sucks. Hoping they can fix it without bleeding me dry.”

Juice thought hard about it for a few moments, “I’ll take a look at it. I’ll see what I can do, see if I can get you a deal or something.”

“Yea?” you couldn’t hide your relief.

He nodded, “Yea. Least I could do.”

“You’d really be saving my ass.”

He laughed, “Guess that would make us even.”

You chuckled and nodded, “Guess so.”

He paused for a moment, eyes glued to the pavement, “If you want, you could, uh, you could give me your number,” he looked up at you, “and I’ll give you a call when I get it all sorted.”

You smiled, “Alright. Sounds good,” you held out your hand for his phone and quickly added your number to his contacts, “Hope to hear from you soon, Juice.”

“Juan,” he said quietly as he took the phone back from you.

“Hm?”

He looked at you, “Juan. My name is Juan.”

You smiled, “Well, then, Juan, I’ll talk to you soon,” you paused and bit back a laugh, “Try to keep yourself out of sticky situations, alright?”

“Well now at least I have you to call just in case,” he smirked.

“Won’t be able to come and get you until you fix my car,” you chuckled, “So at least be careful for a few days.”

“I think I can do that.”

“Good,” you stepped in and gave him a quick hug, “Thank you, Juan, seriously.”

“It’s not a problem. I’ll, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Looking forward to it,” you flashed him a smile before turning and continuing your way out of the parking lot.

You chanced a look back over your shoulder and saw that he was still standing there staring at you with a smile and a dreamy look on his face. You laughed and shook your head as you turned back around. There was something to be said about memorable first impressions, and something told you that you had landed yourself in an adventure when you met him. You were excited to find out what was in store.

[13uswntimagines]

Chanukah party (USWNT x Baby!Reader)

This isn’t a request but @literaryhedgehog​ and I thought it would be fun. The basic premise is that reader is at camp during Chanukah, and the team feels bad (especially Lindsey) so they throw her a party. (thank you @notmia101​ for betaing this for us). 

You smiled at Alyssa as she described her winter plans after training camp. How she was going to visit her sister and her family for Christmas. How they were hoping for snow and how they were going to kill an innocent tree and desecrate its body with lights for their amusement. Her words, not yours. It was a game she and the other girls played every year, trying to make their Christmas plans sound as horror-movie-ish as possible. It was a way of trying to make fun of themselves so you could share the amusement and join in laughing at them. 

But despite their efforts, a little piece of you always felt left out because you couldn’t (wouldn’t?) participate. See, you were one of the few who didn’t celebrate Christmas. You were proud of your Jewish heritage, even if your family wasn’t the most ~religious~. But you were proud of the culture you had been raised in. You held its traditions very near to your heart and weren’t AT ALL bitter that the rest of the team had time designated to visit their family during their winter holidays while you still had training camp through the third week of December.  

You were kinda zoning out because you could only take so much of their cookie baking, their stalkerish man that watched kids while they slept, and their hiding of a stupid stuffed toy you were sure would give you nightmares (who the fuck thought having an ‘elf’ stalk your family all month was cute?!?!? Capitalism was a weird man). (Though you may or may not have paid attention to Lindsey’s plan to dress Ferguson like a little elf…) 

“What about you kid?” Tobin asked, nudging you out of your daydream. 

“What?” You shook your head, making everyone around you laugh. 

“Do you have plans for the holidays?” Lindsey repeated, her smile showing off her dimples. 

“Oh, um. Chanukah started a few days ago. It’s cool, they have an app with a menorah and everything. My family has been face timing me most days, but it will be over before training ends.” You shrugged, hoping they couldn’t see how much being away from your family during this time of year sucked (though you were glad to be included on the camp roster). 

Most of the veteran's jaws dropped, how had they not known that you were missing something so important to you? How had US Soccer overlooked a holiday (and inadvertently given you an ultimatum- celebrate or make the national team). 

“Then why did they schedule training camp this week?” Tobin mumbled. Again you shrugged. 

“There’s 23 of you and only one of me… it’s really not that big of a deal,” you smiled briefly and gave the same speech you had given since middle school, “It’s not like the ‘Jewish Christmas’ even though it happens around the same time some years, my family doesn’t even exchange presents, so I’m really just missing the party they’re throwing on the 18th.” 

“That still isn’t fair though. I mean, we get Christmas off automatically, even if we don’t celebrate it!” Christen huffed, throwing her hands up. 

“I mean, this isn’t like a new thing. We’re always at camp during this time. And next year the holiday starts in November, so it’s not something that can consistently be scheduled around. I guess it’s just a sacrifice I have to make to be the best right?” You said earnestly, shaking your head. You knew all of the arguments, you had heard them for all of your life. 

“But-“ Emily started to protest, but before she could get the words out you cut her off. “Don’t make a big deal guys, it’s fine. Really,” 

The team stared at you for a few seconds, several women opening and closing their mouths several times. You shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, breathing a sigh of relief when your phone rang, glad to have an excuse to get out of this situation. 

“Ok so we’re totally going to make a big deal out of this,” Lindsey said turning back around to face the team the second you were out the door. 

“I’m guessing you have a plan to woo your girl?” Emily smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not to. No. We are doing this as a team to be supportive of our teammate who is part of a traditionally marginalized culture that we need to be more supportive of,” Lindsey grumbled sternly, smiling when Christen nodded in return. “I’m googling “Chanukah for Dummies” right now. 

They were going to make this camp different from the others (and if she got to impress you that was just a bonus). 

…..

“Umm, why does it smell like something is burning?” Becky asked, walking through the hotel corridor towards the dining room. 

“Because Latkes are apparently more difficult to make than I expected,” Kelley said, tossing what looked like a stack of burned hockey pucks into the trash. “I didn’t realize the whole room was going to smell like fried food- do you think they’re going to fine me when we check out?”

“If they fine you, they better fine Em too. The stench from such a little jar is kind of amazing,” Lindsey huffed. 

“What did she do, get her sardines or something?” Becky asked, shaking her head, remembering the smell that she couldn’t quite place. 

“No. Something called ‘Gefilte fish’”. 

“But isn’t that usually for Passover?” Kelley asked, looking up from where she was trying to scrape burned potatoes off her pan.

“They said it was traditional, isn’t that what we’re going for?” Emily huffed, pouting. Lindsey rolled her eyes at her best friend. 

“I’ve got music!” Chrystal called, walking through the door in a star-patterned sweater. “It turns out there are not a whole lot of Chanukah songs. There’s a Spotify playlist that’s only 3 hours long, or so, so I supplemented it with a lot of Leonard Cohen and Paul Simon.”

“And I brought the sour cream and applesauce as requested!” Sam called, walking in after her, “also some apple juice and honey bourbon. I know apples and honey are a thing for Rosh Hashana, so I thought maybe we could make some cocktails?”

“I won’t tell coach if you don’t,” Kelley said taking the bottle and pouring herself a shot. “Someone else needs to take over the latke making. My attempts have all either looked like lefse, hashbrowns or just burned.”

“Lefse?”

“I had an ex-girlfriend from Minnesota. It was a potato tortilla thing her family sent her at thanksgiving. The point here is that someone else needs to cook or we are just going to be eating sour cream and applesauce on their own.”

“We could make french fries?” Rose suggested tentatively. 

“With bacon and cheese! Those are the best,” Emily exclaimed, only to have Lindsey (gently) slap the back of her head. 

“No, Sonnett. She can’t have bacon and I don’t think she’s allowed to have cheese and meat on the same plate…” 

“I think if we just batter potato pieces in egg and flour and fry them it would taste nice with the apple sauce and sour cream. And we’ve made french fries before so it won’t be so much of a… learning curve. Though you did a great try, Kelley!” Rose said, patting Kelley’s arm.

“You guys are useless. Did you even look at a recipe?” Megan shook her head. 

“If you think it’s so easy you try it.” Kelley scoffed. Megan raised her eyebrow at the woman, stealing the spatula from the defender's hand. 

“Tasty made here we come,” 

*****

“Happy Chanukah!” came from all around as you walked in. Lindsey was very proud. Not only had she gotten the team on track and ensured that they had all of the stuff google said would make the perfect Chanukah celebration; she had also kept you off their trail until this moment. The shock on your face made all the work on their day off entirely worth it. 

The room was decorated in tinsel with a shiny plastic menorah in the center of the table. Several people were wearing ugly sweaters with different “decorations” taped on. A sign on the back wall said “We survived, let’s eat!” Lindsey had decided against hanging up the posters Rose and Mal made saying “Stick it to the (ro)Man!” and “MaccaBEe mine.” The first one because she wasn’t sure it was appropriate, the second one because she knew it wasn’t.

“Ooo who brought the hotdog of the sea?” You asked, biting your lip to suppress a giggle as you walked over to the table to see the food on display. 

“What?” Lindsey’s eyes tried to follow yours, utterly confused. They didn’t get hotdogs. They most certainly weren’t on the list that Chanukah for dummies had given her. 

You smiled softly and shook your head, pointing to the tan balls that Emily had provided. 

“That’s what my siblings and I call it during Passover. Gefilte fish is kinda a love it or hate it thing…” you trailed off, scrunching your nose just slightly. 

“And you’re not a fan?” Lindsey smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“Umm, I plead the fifth,” You mumbled, shaking your head slightly. It wasn’t your favorite item in the world. 

“That was all Emily,” Kelley snorted, clapping you on the back, and you grinned devilishly back at her. 

“Well, it was very nice of her to be so thoughtful. She can try a piece with me,” 

Emily cringed at the idea, but nodded nonetheless. It was your party and if eating the smelly thing out of a jar made you happy, then that’s exactly what she would do. (She also stealthily shot Lindsey the middle finger while you were surveying the rest of the items on the tables). 

“Honestly the sufganiyot is my favorite,” you said, taking a step towards the platter, your lips ticking up at Lindsey’s adorable confused face. “sorry, the donuts,” you clarified, picking up one of the many powdered sugar-covered donuts in the stack, inspecting it to see what kind it was. The Jelly ones were particularly important for the celebration. 

Lindsey blushed a little. “We didn’t know if you wanted jelly or custard,” She said hesitantly, watching as your eyes got impossibly brighter. 

“Both are amazing, thank you,” You smiled softly at the midfielder, brushing a stay bit of powdered sugar off her pink cheeks. You held her gaze for a moment before seeming realizing you had an audience, and turning towards the rest of the team. “thank all of you,” 

It wasn’t the traditional Chanukah you usually shared with your family, but the friends who had become your family made it special nonetheless.

[junowritings]

Wanted to try my hands at writing a lil thing for Kalim! Still getting the hang of his character but this was a lot of fun to do~!

I’m gonna be working through some more in the future - the inbox is open for twst requests so feel free to send some in~!

----------

You wouldn’t say that you were scared of heights - scared is a strong word when you haven’t actually had that many experiences to base it on. 

It’s more like being so high up makes you...uneasy, a fact that you became acutely aware of after the whole incident with the Scarabia dorm and a certain magic carpet. You still remember how bad you were shaking by the time your feet touched the ground, which you’d thankfully been able to pass off as being shook up by the landing; so you’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t be risking any further ‘trips’ any time soon - too bad that promise lasted just as long as it took to run into Kalim again.

When he’d come bounding into the room, bristling with eagerness as an invitation for an impromptu magic carpet ride came tumbling from his lips, you were in the right mind to turn him down - to find some kind of excuse to give yourself an easy out or direct him to someone else more willing to fly.

But then Kalim had grasped your hands and flashed you that bright, beaming smile that could put the sun to shame, and you were saying yes before you’d even realized just what you’d agreed to. 

Now, if only that same smile could get rid of the anxiety bubbling up a storm in your chest right now.

Every time the carpet dips or twirls as it soars through the air, you can feel your heart doing flips behind your ribs, as though it’s going to leap right out of your throat if you dare to even open your mouth. You do your best to quash the feeling, instead pouring your attention into watching Kalim as he maneuvers the carpet in the desired direction. He looks focused, though the concentrated expression hardly masks his excitement as he gazes out over the sky that stretches out before you. In all honesty, seeing him like this is pretty cute - you’re sure that he’s enjoying the additional company on what would have otherwise been a solo trip. 

Perhaps it's that fact that’s making Kalim bolder than usual, taking liberties with the usual carpet tricks and showing off how he’s improved since the last time you’d seen him ride. So far it’s been tame, and you were actually beginning to relax when you focused on what was in front of you rather than below; however, when you suddenly hear him warning you to hold on tight you freeze, a sneaking suspicion of what he’s got planned sneaking in as you watch his grip on the front tighten.

...He wouldn’t.

But then he angles the carpet downwards, and you realize he actually would. The drop is abrupt, and just about knocks the wind out of your lungs as the magic carpet angles in a steep arc, coming back to rise just as suddenly as it had dove. You’re pretty sure you screamed at some point, but by the time the pace has slowed down the only noise that comes out is a flustered huff as you attempt to uncurl your fists from the plush fabric beneath you, frozen in place.

Kalim, on the other hand, is practically brimming with energy, laughing aloud and shaking his wind-tousled hair from his face as he looks back at you over his shoulder, eager to see your reaction. Upon seeing your expression, visibly shaken, Kalim’s face falls and he goes from excited to worried in an instant. 

“Ah! Hey, hey, are you okay?!” his tone is concerned, and as he speaks the carpet grinds to a stop.

You don’t know if it’s better or worse being suspended mid-air, but at his question you manage to muster as reassuring of a smile as you can and shoot him a thumbs up. 

“Yeah, I-I’m good.” you mutter, though the tremble in your voice says otherwise. “I just...me and heights, uh, don’t really get along...heh.”

In lieu of your response, Kalim cocks his head and shifts around so that he’s facing you, and watching him lean forward so casually when there’s a sheer drop right behind him makes you wish you had that much trust in gravity. 

Kalim leans over to you, and just like before he takes your hands into his own. His hands are so steady that it makes the tremble in yours more pronounced, but the touch at least proves comforting. 

“It’s okay,” Kalim flashes you a comforting smile and runs his thumbs over the back of your hands. “You don’t need to worry, you’re safe up here!”

His words don’t make you any less nervous, but you find yourself reciprocating the smile with one of your own nonetheless, squeezing his hands and grounding yourself in the feeling. Though you feel bad for making him worry, it’s nice to know that he’s trying to reassure you now - it’s kind of comforting.

That is until Kalim starts leaning back towards the edge of the magic carpet again, guiding you to follow his lead with words of encouragement.

“Here, come sit next to me!” he says, still smiling.

“Wait, wait, wait-!” you panic, fumbling as you make a move to pull back only to stop, thinking better of the action.

Upon seeing your apprehension, Kalim pauses and regards you for a moment. He doesn’t push you further, but gives your hands another squeeze as he speaks to you. “Trust me, I won’t let you fall!”

Your gaze flickers between him and the front end of the carpet a few times, gauging the weight of his words; then, slowly, you inch across the carpet in the direction he was leading you. Kalim’s expression visibly brightens, and though it takes a little extra coaxing on your part, you’re soon settled right at the helm of the magic carpet, with Kalim shuffling to the side to give you enough space to sit right beside him.

The sky stretches out before your eyes, a rather beautiful sight thanks to the mixtures of oranges and purples dyeing all around it like paint on a canvas; even with the view however you make a conscious effort not to look down as you take a seat. As though sensing your attempt to keep calm, Kalim brings a hand to rest on your shoulder, urging you to sit closer to his side for support while his free hand moves to hold the edge of the carpet like he was before.

The sudden action has you stammering, but Kalim’s smile only widens into a grin, bright and warm. “Don’t worry, you can hold onto me if you want!” he exclaims, voice nonchalant and so carefree that the tone alone is enough to put you at ease, though you’re still flustered over the proximity as you gradually lean into his side.

Having the carpet paused gives you a much needed moment to breathe and just take in the scenery when it’s not whizzing past you, and once you start to ease up you find yourself taking some time to admire it. And it was worth the initial rush to get here - looking up, it’s almost enough to forget about your worries below, seeing the clouds so close that you could reach out and touch them if you really wanted to. From this height, the wind toussels your hair and your uniform, an unusual sensation, but one that you quickly find yourself growing used to when the initial chill is contrasted by the warmth of the boy beside you. 

You’re only pulled from your reverie when you feel the hand at your shoulder give you a comforting pat, and after a moment you look over at Kalim.

“Feeling better?” there’s a kindness in his tone when he asks, not mocking and full of genuine concern, and you find yourself giving a bashful smile as you offer a shrug.

“A little bit - kind of? - Better.” To others, your response may have come off as awkward but Kalim takes it in stride, clapping a hand onto your shoulder with a chuckle.

“Good, good!” he beams, tugging you just a bit closer to his side. “Don’t worry, we can start heading back - if we go now, we’ll be at the dorms in no time!”

At the mention of moving, you give him a pointed stare and Kalim’s quick to add “I’ll be slow this time! No tricks, promise~!” 

He offers a grin for good measure, only chuckling more at the playful scowl you aim in his direction. Your stern expression breaks just as easily at the sound, and you’re soon chuckling along with him, moving closer to Kalim’s side as the carpet slowly begins its descent.

[pinkkunt-imagines]

Hi I was wondering if you could do SFW and NSFW headcanons about Fujin from MK? Love you blog😘

Yall knew this was coming. Once Aftermath came out and we got more of a glimpse at Fujin’s personality and face, it was a WRAP. Had to write this request ASAP.  I can’t tag you @Jelliebeans, but I hope you see. I love me some Fujin now, frfr. Headcanons are kina long because I went odee hard. NSFW UNDER LE CUT~

Fujin

SFW

♡Fujin left the sky temple to live with humans. One of those humans mainly being you. And though it broke his brother Raiden's heart, Fujin could not stand to be apart from you.

♡He enjoys and wants a very domestic life, and adapts to human traditions very easily. Waking up to breakfast in bed, cutting the lawn, fixing the house, kids. All those good things. He even wants a wedding too! Going as far as to Google how to propose, and what type of ring a woman likes. He actually dragged Raiden with him to the jewelry store for help. But since they both didn’t know any better, they ended up getting played and leaving with some overpriced ring.

♡The Wind God is very loyal and family-oriented, even without children. He wants to feel the joy of being a Father though, and damn sure wants a liter load worth. He would literally live for you and his children, going against the world for you guys, even if you were in the wrong. Family bonds are very sacred to him. He just wants some quarter-demigods to raise and adore! 

♡Despite being a Demi-God, Fujin is very sentimental and in touch with his human feelings. There are times where he acts on his emotions, and he’s considerate of your feelings too. He won’t oppose you or tell you no because he doesn’t want to see you unhappy. Because of this, he spoils you to death, even if he finds what you want completely useless. The most he’ll do is tell you to reconsider, and use the money elsewhere on something more important. But, he’ll only say it once. After that, it’s up to you whether you’re going to run his credit card up.

♡He hates arguments, and is genuinely hurt whenever you’re upset or yelling at him about something. Fujin usually just lets you talk, not wanting to fuel your anger by saying something wrong, and apologizing for whatever he did wrong. While he’s not going to cry, he is going to feel like shit and be down about it, until you tell him everything is fine. Like please don’t do something like not talk to him for days about something he did. He can’t stand it, and will still make a valiant effort to speak to you. “Please [Name], just tell me what I did wrong.”

♡Fujin enjoys a good time, and isn’t so serious about things like his brother. Raiden scowls you when you and Fujin visit the sky temple. There’s really nothing against YOU per say. Just the fact that his brother really allowed himself to get close to mortals. You’ve humanized him and clouded his judgments. Even hanging around Jax has him saying corny dad jokes. You can’t help but to cackle.

♡You know what Fujin really likes? When you play in his hair. Braid it, put it into buns, massage his scalp! He doesn’t care, it just feels so damn tingly and relaxing when you do it~

♡ He likes crafting. He’ll sometimes make origami birds, then uses his wind to make them fly. You two made flora headbands, and he treasures it and the experience a lot. He wears it around the house, and sometimes even in public. Unrelated, but Fujin is also very good at light flirting too.

NSFW

♡Can we please implement some wind sky sex please? No? Ok.

♡Sex with Fujin is just what you would expect for a God, heavenly. Its always intimate, and he puts his heart and soul into making love to you, never fucking. It’s hot and heavy, and you two end up just losing yourselves in one another gaze. Body, spirit and soul connected. And if it’s not love making, then it’s baby making.

♡Yes, yes, yes to foreplay! He kisses all over your face and collar bone, working his hands elsewhere so you can fully be prepped. He makes sure to take his time with it. Especially when going down on you. He really enjoys that and could do it all day. As far as blowjobs, he loves them to death, but will get flustered at first when seeing you down there. Like, you really want to put it in your mouth? It feels good, but like, really?

♡Asking for quickies or public sex will make him flustered too. He’s not for either, because that’s so inappropriate, [Name]. What if someone sees the two of you in the act? What would people say? Even worse, what would the ELDER GOD’S  AND HIS BROTHER SAY!?

♡Fujin isn’t one to take charge during sex, but he’s not one to not take charge during sex either. It’s sort of a shared power between you two. Unless it’s one of those days when you want to catch him off guard.

♡Don’t be vulgar during sex either. Fujiin gets all flushed because he’s very vanilla and will stop mid-sex to say, “[Name], please don’t say such vulgar things,” with big red cheeks . Even asking him to degrade you or like, choke you during sex is a big no. He doesn’t want to call you mean things, let alone harm you, even if you’d like it. He just wants to show you how much he loves you, the Mortal way. 

♡The sex isn’t quiet, as he is very vocal in the sense that he doesn’t hold back a moan. You can’t hold back a moan either because wow, this feels so lovely. The room is just filled with a mutual exchange of moans, bed creaking, and soft skin clapping. There are a few things said sometimes. Like, “I love you,” “You’re so beautiful,” and the occasional “Look at me,” when your eyes wander astray from his to the back of your head.

♡Not for nothing, but he does those circular thrusts with his hips, regardless of position. He loves that feeling of making a whirlwind inside of your pussy, stirring up your insides and stuff. Those orgasms  that you get when he does that hit you so hard they knock the wind out of you.

♡Similar to Raiden, seeing you naked is just so inappropriate. Like, please put some clothes on? You’re making his pp hard. Undoubtedly would be a victim to that new towel dropping tik tok challenge while training.

♡When he’s about to cum, he definitely pants more frantically. And when he does, Jesus, it’s loud, and he does not give the slightest fuck. Has to let you know he felt good, right?  Fujin usually ko’s into a peaceful nap, and you use him as your cuddle pillow because he’s just so damn soft for awhile, before going to prepare dinner for him to wake up to.

[obiwanobi]

In the Sith Senator au, I imagine that sheev introduces them either at a dinner party or maybe at a gala? anakin is in his robes as always and obiwan is super dressed up because he's a respectable senator thank you very much and he calls anakin darling and sweet thing and stuff like that and within an hour he has anakin wrapped around his finger

Okay, so WHY NOT BOTH? The last long post about this AU was painful, so have some “hate at first sight” and “0.2 sec for Obi-Wan to fix it and learn that banter and endearments can turn Anakin into a very charming mess” 

The first time they met, Obi-Wan has just been elected Senator after working in politics on Stewjon for years, making enough important friends and empty promises to be re-elected even without showing his face on Stewjon until the next decade. It’s his first month back on Coruscant, close to Sidious after years on his own. He needs to show him that his presence here, so close to his Master, is right, and can only benefit their plans. Even when everything isn’t… great.

The committee of small planets of the mid rim is pestering him to join their sad little club of useless dustballs, he has dozens of demands of various needy mayors, dignitaries and even ministers from Stewjon to reply to, the Senate security staff are a bunch of lazy bastards who still haven’t given him his pass and badge to enter and exit the building whenever he wants to and keep pretending not to recognize him even though they force him to go through a full security check every morning, and he can’t find a decent assistant to hire. 

You could say that Senator Kenobi is a bit on edge. 

He really, really doesn’t need to be late to his first real, private meeting with Sidious, especially because his only excuse is ‘I forgot how busy traffic was on Coruscant in the morning, don’t blame me I’m used to the countryside and seeing more sheep than ships on my way to work”. That would probably not go too well.  

Looking at his chrono every twenty seconds, he doesn’t pay enough attention to where he’s going and doesn’t notice the man turning at a corner on his side, running fast enough to come crashing against him without having the chance to do anything about it.

One second, a sharp cry, a flurry of dark robes and a cup of tea flying, and they’re both on the ground.  

Obi-Wan isn’t pleased. You could say he’s even a bit exasperated, lying on his back, a stranger’s elbow digging in his stomach. And then he turns his head to see who’s stupid enough to run in the Senate’s corridors on a Monday morning and almost curses out loud when he recognises Jedi robes and a stupid Padawan’s braid. 

It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s used to suppressing his Force-presence so no one can feel him and he’s not going to make a scene to attract more attention. He’s going to inhale and exhale slowly, accept the deepest of apologies from the stupid Jedi with a benevolent smile, repress his need to do something harsh, and be on his way.  

But then the Padawan groans, rubs his head and asks reproachfully��why Obi-Wan didn’t watch where he was going. 

It’s eight am, half of his (expensive and only sold on Stewjon) tea on the floor, and Obi-Wan already wants to strangle a Jedi.

So, there is a shouting match.

Words like “pathetic life form” and “karking useless politician” are thrown, and it takes almost half a minute for Obi-Wan to realise that he’s arguing with a dumb teenager and that they’re still on the floor, half on top of each other. He, very politely, asks the Padawan to get the kriff up, doesn’t take the time to even look at the remains of his cup of tea after salvaging his wet datapad from the puddle on the ground, and leaves with one last silent death glare. 

“You’re not even going to clean that?” the Padawan yells in his back, sounding revolted. 

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. What are droids for these days? 

*

“You’re late,” Palpatine says flatly the instant the door of his office closes behind Obi-Wan. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” 

“Yes, Master.”  

“Call me Chancellor for now. I want you to meet someone and he should be here soon. He could become important, maybe even crucial for our plans.”

“Oh? Another Senator or representative to charm?” 

“Even better,” Palpatine smiles. And that’s what gets Obi-Wan interested. He knows this is the reason he’s here and the reason Sidious wants him in the Senate. Obi-Wan is a smooth talker, a nice face and a warm smile all in one. Someone who, with enough time and efforts, could make anyone believes in anything.

Palpatine always said that he was made for politics. 

“He could be a decisive piece in this game. It will take a lot of careful manipulation and dedication to bring him to our side and I don’t have this kind of time to waste, so you’ll do. With enough care and patience, I think he could be the most loyal and useful… support, we could have.” 

“Who is he? What do you want me to say and how far am I allowed to go?”

A knock at the door interrupts them. “For now,” Palpatine says in a low voice, sitting behind his desk, joining his hands together above it, the picture of old and trusted wisdom, “I just need you to make him like you.” 

That’s not going to be a problem, Obi-Wan thinks, as the doors open. He straightens up, gets ready to put on his most radiant smile and displays an inviting openness and friendliness that few can resist. 

The Padawan enters. 

This is going to be a problem. 

*

“Ah! My favourite Jedi!” Sidious exclaims loud enough to be heard over the music and raising his cocktail above their heads. Anakin Skywalker smiles as he sees him, and dutifully comes closer. The Chancellor makes a point of clapping his hand twice on his shoulder once Skywalker is in front of him, and leaves it there as he introduces him to his new chief of staff. If anyone is wondering what a Padawan is doing at a Senate party that should only include political staffers and a few dignitaries, no one breaths a word of it. 

It gives Obi-Wan time to gauge, assess and appraise Skywalker, his reactions, body language, and anything he can learn from a simple conversation between Sidious and him. It would be his turn to do it soon. Relieve me from the burden of having to stroke the boy’s ego regularly so I can take care of more pressing issues, his master had snarled disdainfully. Right now, he’s playing the part of the dotting and proud fatherly figure to perfection, Obi-Wan has to give him that. 

Attention, approval and respect, Sidious had told me. That’s all you need to be in Skywalker’s good graces. The boy will soak every bit of kindness you can spare, as long as he considers you someone worth his own devotion.

It didn’t stop Obi-Wan from learning absolutely everything he could about him, from his lightsaber technique to his favourite food because Obi-Wan is and will always be a very thorough man who doesn’t rely on luck or unprecise sciences like basic psychology. Especially from his Master, who probably never encountered an emotion or feeling he couldn’t twist to fuel his ambition. 

Admittedly, Obi-Wan doesn’t share his Master enthusiasm for charming the brat and make him fall. He’s all for turning him against the Jedi, sure, that he can get behind and happily endorse, but having to deal with a moody teenager on a regular basis for the foreseeable future? It would be painful for everyone. Especially for Obi-Wan’s nerves.

 Anakin Skywalker, reckless, volatile and troublesome former slave and actual Padawan, wasn’t the type of Sith candidate Obi-Wan would have chosen. Not at all. Too many variables, too many chances to go wrong, a wild card that he would never risk. 

But Sidious is adamant. Doesn’t care for any of his arguments. He wants Skywalker, and Obi-Wan has started to realise why when he learnt all about the prophecy. Stealing the Jedi Chosen One and turning him against them in a last-second betrayal was the kind of symbolic irony Sidious loved and would gloat about for years to come. And when Sidious decides that he needs something, there is no going back. 

But this time, Obi-Wan has to do all the hard work himself. He calculates that getting close to Skywalker, especially after their more than tense official introduction, is going to take months, maybe even (and Obi-Wan shudders at the thought) a year. Trapped at playing nice with an overgrown child who hates being told no and likes to think he’s above the rules. For no direct and personal benefit but the approval of his own Master.

Obi-Wan really, really hates it.

But that’s not going to stop him from completing his mission perfectly, as he has always done. 

“I’m glad to see you, Chancellor,” Skywalker says softly, his quiet tone already at odd with what Obi-Wan expected. He grew taller than the last he saw him, and Obi-Wan hates it. His braid is a bit longer and his robes are a shade darker than a few months ago. Something passes in his eyes when the Padawan notices Obi-Wan’s presence next to the Chancellor and his head snaps up defiantly. “Senator Kenobi,” he grits out like the words pain him. 

Obi-Wan needs to change this right now before Sidious deems him inapt for this mission.

He hates this a bit more. 

The opportunity is given quicker than he thought when Sidious excuses himself and leaves their little group to mingle with other demanding sycophants. Obi-Wan gets stuck with Skywalker, Sidious’ chief of state who’s apparently only here for the free drinks, and Keneg, the senator of… Corulag? Barl’leth? One of those rich Core planets that hate anyone who isn’t them but need to be kept around for their credits, who always seems to suck years of his life every time Obi-Wan is forced to speak to him. It takes thirty seconds for all of them to grow bored of Keneg incessant complaints about how the lower levels of his planet are “ruining its reputation” and that the problem resides in their too lenient immigration policy, especially concerning poor and uneducated races.

Skywalker’s face is a journey. At least twelve different emotions play through his eyes, the twists of his mouth and raised eyebrows like a theatre actor in a dramatic scene at each careless word coming out of the Senator’s mouth, and Obi-Wan wonders if anyone has ever told him that Jedi are supposed to be masters of their own emotions first and foremost. Especially around politicians. 

But it doesn’t matter right now, because that’s the opening he was waiting for. 

“Excuse me Senator Keneg,” He cuts him off politely before another endless tirade. “I’m afraid I have to go, I see the Senator of Botor and I’ve been trying to talk to him for months. Surely you understand. Padawan Skywalker, may I ask for your assistance? We could use some Jedi wisdom in our debate, if you don’t mind.” 

Skywalker looks torn between being relieved to be offered an out from an awful conversation, but also have no desire to spend more time with Obi-Wan. 

“Sure,” he ends up mumbling, apparently judging that he was the lesser of two evils. 

“Wonderful.” Obi-Wan doesn’t pay any attention to the betrayed look Sidious’ chief of state sends him after being left alone with Keneg.

“So,” Skywalker says, resigned, following Obi-Wan who’s making a beeline for the bar. “Where is he?”

“Who?” 

“The senator of Botor? And what’s your deal with him?” 

“I don’t even know what he looks like,” Obi-Wan replies, trying to ignore the casual tone Skywalker shouldn’t take with a Senator, even one he dislikes. 

“What? Then why did you ask me to come with you?”

“Aren’t you relieved that I saved you from dreadful hours of xenophobic discussions about how poor people should be banned from showing their face in public because it doesn’t please Senator Keneg?”

“You didn’t save me,” Skywalker grimaces, but still seats beside him. “Is it… Is it always like that? I mean, I know Core worlds politicians can be a little…”

Obi-Wan weighs his options, and decides that Skywalker would probably appreciate truth more than carefully chosen words and subtle hypocrisy. Pretending to be the last nice man in politics is out of the question with the way they met, so Obi-Wan opts for sincerity.

To a degree. 

“Snobbish? Disconnected from reality? Shameless bastards with no souls?” Obi-Wan says while signalling the bartender for Trandoshan ale and a cocktail.

“Well, yes.” 

“Welcome to politics.” 

Skywalker opens his mouth like he’s going to protest. He puts his hands in his sleeves, probably hoping to pass for a wise Jedi Master, but his pouty lips and frowned eyebrows make him look like a sulking youngling. “You’re part of it, you know. You can talk about it like you’re not one of them, but I remember you insulting me and leaving without caring about your tea and cup all over the floor.”

What a brat.

“My tea- My dear, do I have to remind you that you barreled into me at full stupid and made me spill my tea everywhere? Some Senators would have made a diplomatic incident out of it,” he huffs, a bit more irritable than he wanted to. 

 “You said I was a brainless child!” 

“Because you ar—” Their drinks arrive at that moment, and it gives Obi-Wan precious seconds to compose himself.

This isn’t how he’s supposed to play it. He didn’t expect Skywalker to be this whiny and petulant, despite Sidious’ warning, and was planning on letting him think he was the one in control of the situation. He’s supposed to be a Jedi for Force sake, not someone who can’t control their tongue and get into pointless fights with politicians! 

No, no. Grin and bear it. Obi-Wan should recall the last remnant of Jedi philosophy still in him. 

“Padawan Skywalker, I’m sorry if my words offended you,” Obi-Wan says with the voice he normally uses for debates where he wants to appear as the most sincere and reasonable party. He holds a glass of ale to Skywalker, as a peace offering. “I admit I wasn’t in the most pleasant of disposition at that time, and I may have been harsher than I realised. I hope you can forgive me.” 

This seems to mollify Skywalker a bit. He doesn’t look like he’s going to forget it, but does take the offered glass. “At least the Chancellor is different,” he sighs and Obi-Wan represses the urge to burst into laughter. 

Oh, Skywalker is truly the most naïve boy around. Perhaps twisting his mind will turn out to be fun. 

“Wait,” Obi-Wan exclaims suddenly as the Padawan holds the glass to his lips, “are you even old enough to drink?” 

“Oh come on, I’m 19! I can handle a beer and I’m a Jedi, don’t forget,” he brags, like being Force-sensitive changes anything about his (probably low) alcohol tolerance. To be fair, a regular politician wouldn’t know anything about what the Force could and couldn’t do. Skywalker’s probably relying on lack of awareness about the magic and mysterious abilities of the Jedi to get away with it. It’s almost endearing. 

 “I don’t know, Padawan, you did look like an adorable sulking youngling just a minute ago.”

“Ador- I’m not adorable!” He yelps as his cheeks turn into an interesting shade of pink. 

“But you don’t deny the youngling comment,” Obi-Wan teases good-naturedly between two sips of his cocktail. He can’t help it: It is way more intriguing to follow the colours on his face spreading to his neck than being on the receiving end of his frowns and accusing words.

Unduly flustered for such an innocent comment, Skywalker stutters a few syllables, huffs, and narrows his eyes at his glass, Obi-Wan’s playful smile, and his glass again. He downs the whole thing with his head thrown back before Obi-Wan can say anything, surprised by the sudden motion and too busy watching his throat moving until the empty glass is back on the table with a resounding clank. Still wiping his mouth, he calls the bartender and asks for another. Obi-Wan doesn’t miss the ‘don’t you dare stop me’ glare. 

This isn’t how he imagined befriending him, but Skywalker is still seating next to him and getting into a rant about how he’s a capable man, thank you very much, and yesterday his Master even said so, well, not in these words, but he’s not a youngling, and absolutely not adorable, he’s a warrior, a protector, but he doesn’t suppose a politician can understand, and if Obi-Wan wants to know, his sabre technique is exceptional, really, it is! 

His whole speech is supported by hands flying around to illustrate his words and mouthfuls of ale, because he is a man and not a kid, remember that, Senator Kenobi. It doesn’t prevent him from flushing a bit deeper and spluttering even more when Obi-Wan, listening attentively with a smile on his face, throws an indulgent of course you are, darling.

Skywalker turns his face away from him, desperate to hide his embarrassment, and orders another ale. 

Adorable. 

 Obi-Wan can work with that.   

*

Hours later, once Skywalker is happily sloshed and dangerously leaning toward crashing against his shoulder, Obi-Wan calls him a hover cab.  

“Thanks, Senator Kenobi!” Skywalker exclaims as he climbs into the cab, like Obi-Wan is now his favourite person to be around. His cheerful and warm demeanour has stopped being surprising after his second ale. “You’re not as awful as I thought!” 

Obi-Wan can’t help it, he laughs, truly laughs at that. It’s probably the most sincere compliment he’s gotten since he arrived at the Senate. “I’m glad you consider me a slightly better man than Senator Keneg,” he says, leaning forward toward Skywalker, hands on the cab. 

Skywaker grins and raises an eyebrow at him. “And more handsome too!” 

For once, it’s Obi-Wan who must look baffled. Despite his careful planning, all his diverse estimations and assessments about the different ways he could charm Skywalker, he didn’t consider actually seducing him. That’s… a whole new point of view. 

Interrupting his thoughts, Skywalker yawns and starts hugging his robe around himself, smiling contently like he’s in the best place in the galaxy, barely trying to blink away sleep from his eyes. Adorable.  

On an impulse, Obi-Wan leans closer to him and tugs on his braid. The reaction is worth it: Skywalker makes a small surprised noise, eyes suddenly wide, and the slight flush on his cheeks worsen in an instant.

Obi-Wan almost considers touching his face, just to see how warm his skin is. And maybe even brushing his parted lips with his thumb, just to see how warm it can still get. 

But Obi-Wan feels merciful.

For tonight. 

“Sleep well, Padawan,” he purrs, winding the thin braid around his finger one last time. Skywalker looks like he’s going to melt.  

Obi-Wan can work with that too. 

*

Two months later, Sidious tells him that he’s going to be the victim of an assassination attempt right before the Military Act vote. It would be acceptable for the Chancellor to be concerned about the protection and security of all Senators, of course, so he will push for Jedi protection and is certain to convince the Council to send one particular Padawan as a bodyguard. 

Obi-Wan doesn’t hate the idea. 

[empiresmostwanted]

Hi!! From that quote prompts list, a few that stood out for me were “it’s a brutal world” and “what are you humming?” for Rex? Im imaging either a mechanic/civilian reader or a shiny new clone trooper is accompanying the 501st on an off-world mission and they are sitting by the campfire late at night, a little shaken by the battle earlier in the day. Rex notices and goes to comfort them, and perhaps there is a singing motif??

Also! I loved Sabacc Face and im making my way though your other works this weekend 💕

Thank you so much @maulpunk for the prompts 😘

I'm sorry it took me so long to write, work has done a number on me this last week or so. Grrr. But I was happy to get back to writing this, although I must apologise for straying a little from the parameters of the request (it turned out to be a little too angsty for a singing motif, oops). I hope you like it all the same!

(P.S. Thank you so so much, I'm thrilled you liked Sabacc Face. It was a lot of fun to write, I hope it was just as fun to read!)

posted on AO3 | the prompt list | my writing

Words: 1.5k | Warnings: Post-Umbara Arc, Grief/Mourning, Angst (and lots of it, sorry-not-sorry), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, a certain Besalisk's name is briefly mentioned (okay, I am sorry for this one)

GHOSTS IN THE UMBRA

20BBY

☾

CT-0292 couldn't sleep. When he closed his eyes, rounds of blue plasma bolts flashed through the darkness behind his lids. Hands, his own hands, held a DC-15 carbine aloft, and one single finger under his control pressed on the trigger, mowing down the Umbarans in their disguises.

But they hadn't been Umbarans. They'd been his brothers.

A strangled sound escaped him, somewhere between a gasp and a sob that he caught in his throat. His chest ached with the effort to hold it, the urge to release it. And it ached as if his brothers had occupied a place there, the loss of them leaving the muscles of his heart to constrict around empty space.

He blinked away sharp tears, then pushed off the weighted blanket – its presence more suffocating than soothing – and climbed out of his rack. He gathered up the armour stacked in a neat pile from the foot of the bunk's frame and applied it, piece by piece, from foot to neck.

If he couldn't sleep, he might as well be useful. He'd never been very good at keeping still.

Around him, his brothers lay in their cots; some slept, restless, while others remained painfully conscious. From his own squad, only himself, Wil (Private), and Ridge (Private) remained. The others, along with their sergeant, had fallen to General Krell's lightsaber.

All was quiet. And Ridge was nowhere to be seen.

0292 shook his head, lightheaded, the back of his neck prickling. After checking his blaster was fastened to his belt, he tucked his helmet under one arm and crept through the rows of bunks like a ghost, leaving the sterile barracks behind.

For a moment, he stopped outside the blast doors as they sshhed to a close behind him, and took a deep breath. Had he caught the scent of rain and salt water in the air, it might have grounded him; but this planet was as unfamiliar to his nose as it was to his eyes and ears. With the tang of metal in his nostrils and on the tip of his tongue, he set off across the floodlit compound.

Beyond the sensor wall, he spotted the warm glow of a natural fire flickering in the perpetual dusk, its light peeking through the mist and the dense formation of local flora. He frowned. Patrol taking a break, perhaps?

CT-0292 made his way to the airbase's entrance. As he approached the gate, he passed skeletons of Umbaran machinery looming out of the fog, and squads of troopers pacing as silent as wraiths.

The planet was reclaimed, but no one had come out of the campaign unscathed.

At the gate, two troopers bearing the colours of the 212th stood guard, blasters held across their bodies, and faced the darkness beyond. With the sight of their armour came a fresh wave of guilt, at once hot and cold, that settled in the pit of his stomach. He cleared his throat upon approach; one started as if he'd been shot, and the other patted him on the shoulder.

"Easy, trooper," said 0292, holding out a placating hand. "Just passing through, lending a hand to patrol. That them over there?"

They followed the direction of his pointer finger, to the small fire burning gold in the gloom. The one coiled as tightly as he himself nodded, and turned back to him. "They're taking it in turns to sweep the perimeter."

"Thanks." He inclined his head, and stepped over the threshold of the airbase.

As his footsteps tapped a muffled rhythm into the damp earth, the chill air cooled the sheen of sweat on his forehead, and pressed cold fingers to the nape of his neck. With a shiver, he donned his helmet and activated its spot-lamp, before succumbing to Umbara's gloaming.

*

CT-0292 walked through the forest of Zabrak Spines, their bioluminescent ridges reaching towards the sky and cutting through the umbra like angry wounds. The glow of giant red thorns shrouded the woodland in an unsettling pallor.

Every small noise was amplified in the stillness around him: the snapping of twigs beneath the feet of tiny creatures, the whooshing of spectral wings overhead, and what seemed like footsteps somewhere behind him, approaching – but when he looked over his shoulder, there was nothing there. Each sound sent a spike of cortisol through his body, and he tried not to hyperventilate to the beat of his pulse.

The immediate threat from the Umbarans had been neutralised. But he and his brothers had found out the hard way that this shadowy world kept its secrets close.

You're out of the woods when you're out of the woods, his instructor back on Kamino used to say. It had seemed redundant to him then.

"What's that you're humming, trooper?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked back and came face-to-face – or helmet-to-helmet – with Captain Rex materialising out of the fog, easy to identify by the jaig eyes and the modified armour.

The captain removed his bucket, brow furrowed in concern, and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Relax. I didn't mean to startle you," he said with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "It sounded familiar, the song you were humming."

"I didn't realise I was humming it aloud," the trooper admitted, face heating as Captain Rex fell into step beside him. "I was thinking of my instructor, back at the facility: she smuggled her own radio into Tipoca, and she'd play it for us during downtime. That one was her favourite, I think. I don't know the words, though. Just the tune."

"Ah."

They walked for a way in companionable silence, each lost to their own thoughts. Confronted once more with the familiar face of his brothers, CT-0292 replayed the moment of terrible realisation, and the skirmish with Krell. The Jedi – if one could even call him that – might have been dealt with on a permanent basis, but his reach would extend far beyond his death.

"Couldn't sleep, either?" asked the captain, dragging him out of his own memories.

He shook his head.

Rex sighed. "It's a brutal world out there."

CT-0292 couldn't be sure if he was referring to Umbara, or the entire galaxy. 

"I admit," he began, "I wasn't expecting to kill other people. I've been training to take down and disable battle droids for nearly ten years, and I thought I was ready, but this …"

It didn't even begin to cover the atrocity of slaughtering his own, knowingly or not.

They heard the voices of their brothers before they saw them, hushed and sombre. Upon stepping out of the forest, they found themselves in a small clearing, lit from above by towering plants, incandescent with pink and purple and blue light, and lit from within by a humble campfire. At least ten troopers were gathered around it, talking in lowered voices amongst themselves.

Rex came to a halt on the edge of the clearing, and stopped 0292 with a hand on his arm.

"If it's of any comfort," he said, "every one of us here is feeling the same right now. No campaign is easy, no life lost is worth less. But this mission has taken its toll more than any other. You say you're not ready, but I recognise the blue bird painted on your bucket. I saw you take charge of your squad when Sergeant Jax was killed, and you kept the rest of them alive. There might well be a promotion coming your way."

A promotion. He'd always harboured the hope of making his way up the ranks, proving his worth and ability along the way. Seeing the captain in action, the way he was respected and admired, had only solidified that desire. But he hadn't entered the GAR as a sergeant, or a captain. It had never really occurred to him before now that someone would have to die for him to take their place.

But he nodded, and said, "Thank you, Captain."

"What's your name, trooper?"

"CT-zero-two-ni—"

"Your name, trooper," Rex clarified. The smile on his lips belied the sadness in his eyes.

CT-0292 removed his helmet. "It's Vaughn, sir. My batchmates called me Vaughn."

"Then welcome to the five-oh-first, Private Vaughn. Over there are your brothers. It won't always be easy, but whatever happens, we look out for each other. And I know you barely got to see General Skywalker in action, but I can promise you that he – and Commander Tano – are nothing like Krell. You'll see."

"Thank you, sir."

Captain Rex clapped him on the arm, then strode off across the clearing, towards the campfire. Vaughn followed, kicking up the smell of damp earth and decaying foliage, sickly sweet in his nostrils. He was pleased to see his squadmate, Ridge, among the ranks of troopers around the flames, and another who'd introduced himself as Sterling just one rotation prior.

"Room for two more, boys?"

☽

Thank you so much for staying to the end! Even though I enjoy reading some good ol' angst, it's definitely tricky to write, so it was nice to stretch those muscles for this prompt. Hope you liked it 💜

[dadsbongos]

School Worker AU fic(?)

Movie/Game/Show: Danganronpa (just in general) Dynamic: idk fuckin everyone is in their senior year though Warnings: all of the danganronpa cast - unless otherwise specified - is in their senior year of hs Summary: Tsumugi makes a documentary. AU: Hope’s Peak is a shitty public school that makes their senior students work around the district in self-made or pre-existing programs in order to earn a crucial credit they need for graduation. A lot of the students want a “raise” in their wages because of the work they do, even though “raise” just means any money at all. ~~~

Maki twirled a long strand of her brown hair around her finger, eyes flickering over it boredly, “Yeah, I want to get paid for this.”

Kaito’s eyes widened, an uneasy smile crossing over his lips and nervously looking between his girlfriend and the camera, “Oh, c’mon, Maki-roll, it’s not about money! It’s about the kids!”

“It’s about the money,” Maki glared at the camera, “Pay me.”

~~

“How do I feel about being paid?” Kaede giggled nervously, looking to her other two bandmates, “Well, it’s not about the money, we like playing for kids and the elderly.”

“Ibuki mostly agrees,” the girl with wildly multi-colored began, “However, Ibuki would also like to be paid for our hard work.”

Sayaka nodded shyly, a small smile on her lips, “I like working for the kids and elderly, but I also would like to have said work rewarded, if I could.”

~~

“Yeah,” Hajime picked up yet another empty plastic water bottle with a gloved hand as he responded to the question, “I would love to get paid but nobody gives a shit about the kids cleaning.”

Chiaki, who wasn’t even holding her trash bag - preferring to have her face stuffed into her handheld, “Not paying us is the school’s way of preparing us for the years of unpaid extraneous labor ahead of us in an adult working environment… I think.”

~~

“I should be gettin’ fuckin’ paid,” Mondo grit his teeth, no longer soaping up his math teacher’s car with Kazuichi and just looking at the camera, “I don’t get stared at by those fuckers,” he jabbed a thumb in the direction of a small gaggle of giggling freshman, “for free. I hate this shit.”

Kazuichi nodded, “I don’t even get to remodel the cars! I just wash them, that’s so lame!”

~~

“Duh - yeah, I wanna get paid!” Junko scoffed, rolling her eyes, “What am I? Twelve? I don’t do this shit for nothing!”

Mukuro sighed quietly, practically elbow deep in the dirt, “You don’t do anything…”

“The hell did you say to me, you fat, ugly, skank?” the blond pressed a stiletto boot into her sister’s back, shoving her face-first into the flower beds Mukuro would now have to redo.

~~

“So,” Tsumugi Shirogane held a mic to her mouth as she stared into the camera, “with so many students demanding a raise in wages, which would mean any wages at all, let’s get to the core issue of why these students feel that their work is so reward-worthy.”

A few feet away, Mikan was watching the hostess of the documentary with nervous eyes, her heart racing as she turned to Rantaro, “Oh my God, is she g-gonna ask us questions? I’m n-not good at speaking. I-I’ll stutter and mum-mumble and she’ll ask me to re-repeat myself, oh God…”

“Hey,” Rantaro gave the girl a small smile, carefully setting his hand on her shoulder, “it’ll be okay. I can do most of the talking, if you want?”

Mikan nodded shakily, fingers intertwining and scrambling apart repeatedly, “Th-that would be p-preferred, tha-thank you…”

As Tsumugi crossed towards the students, she stuck a microphone into Rantaro’s face first, thankfully. Quick to the point, she asked him the question of the segment, “Why, exactly, do you think your work is worth the funding of payment?”

“We do basically the same amount of work that the ordinary school nurse does under regulation and we’re certain our efforts are worthy of payment,” in order to avoid the awkwardness of Tsumugi having to ask Mikan, he gestured to his partner in nursing, “We both are.”

Nodding, Tsumugi moved to place the microphone into Mikan’s face anyway, “And your thoughts?”

“Uhhhh,” Mikan froze up, patting the tips of her fingers into each other, “y-yeah?”

“Yeah, what?”

“Yeah with Rantaro…”

Tsumugi blinked at the girl, standing there for a minute before slowly nodding and turning back to the camera to continue her segment.

Mikan turned to Rantaro with wide eyes, tears already bubbling at her waterline, “Oh my God… I just did that… I just- I - oh my God…”

Rantaro nodded, crossing his arms with a pitying smile, “Yeah, that was pretty bad.”

~~

A loud, resounding thud was the opening sound of the shot, a girl landing flat on her back on a gym mat is the scene. The gymnasium is filled with a multitude of students in fighting stance - a tall girl with red eyes and a short boy with blond hair standing at the front.

Tsumugi narrowly dodges stray hits and flying bodies being tossed over shoulders as she approaches the two senior students. She judges how confrontational they both look and decides to not hastily jam her mic into either of their faces as she asks, “And what is the program you two have picked up for your required credit?”

Peko doesn’t look away from the students as she answers, “Self-defense.”

Fuyuhiko nods, “Any-fuckin’-body can sign up but most of these kids are girls and LGBT+. They’re who mostly comes.”

“Which is a whole different problem on its own,” Peko added, “The fact that they feel the need to learn self-defense rather than trust that nobody will try attacking them for simply walking down the street is rather saddening.”

“Oh, well that’s incredibly noble of you,” Tsumugi breathed out, slightly surprised - she hadn’t expected such mean-looking students to care so much

“Someone has to beat up scumbags,” the taller of the pair shrugged, “My arms were getting tired.”

“Right…” Tsumugi nodded, “uh, you two share this gym with another group, correct?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Fuyuhiko glanced to one of the clocks encaged on the wall, “They should be back in- “

“We’re here for the gym!” a voice boomed out in the space, “Move out!”

“No!” Fuyuhiko shook his head, charging towards the pair and the volleyball team they were coaching that day, he jammed a finger into the girl’s shoulder, “You asshats are always too early! Peko and I got another ten minutes, at least!”

“Well, they need the gym now!” Akane gestured to the team, which was awkwardly standing around and waiting for the approval of Nekomaru and Akane to spread out to the gym, “‘Sides, it’s just five minutes!”

“Eight, now,” the blond crossed his arms, “They continue, you guys wait your turn.”

Seeing no soon-to-come resolution from the pair, Nekomaru moved past Fuyuhiko and Akane as they argued and towards Peko at the front. He rubbed the back of his neck, “We really need the gym right now. You can take our last ten minutes tomorrow if that’d be fair.”

Thinking over the proposal, Peko nodded before picking up the whistle from around her neck and blowing into it before calling to the self-defense class, “Alright, dress out and head home! Remember what you’ve learned and stay safe! Tomorrow, we’ll be meeting out by the baseball field!”

Fuyuhiko sighed, clenching his eyes shut to avoid looking at Akane’s smug grin, “You’re lucky Peko stepped in or I would’ve laid your ass out on the mat.”

“Whatever you say, baby face,” the girl snickered, strolling by to join Nekomaru’s side.

“What did you call me?!”

Tsumugi looked to the new faces, “Do you two fight like that often?”

Akane nodded confidently, “Constantly!”

Sighing, Nekomaru lowered his head, “That’s not a brag.”

“And you two do what around the school?”

“We pick up the school’s teams when the coaches are busy,” Akane pat her outrageously buff partner’s back, “You should see coach Nekomaru out there! He’s like a pro!”

“Well, that’s certainly something!” Tsumugi giggled, “And I can assume you two want to be paid for your efforts?”

“We’re supposed to be paid for this?!”

~~

“Oh my God, leave us alone, you guys are so mean, assholes!”

“Don’t say that, we’re on school grounds! A teacher could walk by at any time!”

“Can you two please be quiet? They’re not even responding to you at this point.”

“We must focus on this column entry!”

“Y-yeah… so s-stop bothering us…”

Tsumugi hesitated, looking at the camera with furrowed brows, “Do we even want to go in?”

The camera shifted with the director’s nodding, the girl sighing loudly before quietly agreeing and pushing the door open to see a classroom with only five people in it. A short boy with untamed purple hair being held back from clawing at the back of a girl with long braids and glasses by another boy with greenish hair… God, what color was that?

Another girl looked up from the desk she was sitting at, “Are you here for the documentary on student payment for their work efforts involving school credit?”

“Yes, I am,” Tsumugi was incredibly tempted to lie, say she got lost, and run out - but she didn’t. Instead, she asked them to introduce themselves.

“Kyoko Kirigiri,” the girl at the desk introduced herself with a solid nod before returning to her work.

The boy holding back his friend finally managed to calm the purple-haired one down before shyly waving, “Shuichi Saihara,” to prevent the other boy from talking, Shuichi clapped a hand over his mouth with an exhausted look, “This is Kokichi Ouma. Us three solve ‘mysteries’ around school, it’s mostly just stolen items. They,” he pointed to the pair on the other side of the room, “write the school newspaper.”

Kokichi managed to release himself from Shuichi’s grasp, immediately rushing towards Tsumugi and grabbing her long skirt between his hands and throttling her, “Help! They’ve kidnapped me! I’m being held against my will!”

“Ah!” Tsumugi screamed, looking up to Shuichi, “What is he talking about?!”

“He’s a liar,” Kyoko piped up, “He’s annoying but he gets the job done quickly so I haven’t kicked him out yet.”

The girl across the room huffed, “C-can you s-shut up over there? And you,” she pointed at Tsumugi, “hurry up and get over here s-so we can get b-back to work…”

“Right,” she nodded slowly before going over to the pair, “You two write the newspaper, that must include some interesting stories.”

“N-not really… I’m T-Toko Fukawa. That's Hi-Hifumi Yamada…” she gave the boy a side-eye, “Don’t say anything w-weird…”

“Never!” he cheered, turning to Tsumugi, “I am Hifumi Yamada- “

“Yeah,” Tsumugi sighed, already rather exhausted with his loudness, “Toko already introduced you.”

“But you may call me by my online dubbing - The Alpha and The Omega!”

“Alright,” Tsumugi dryly replied - he didn’t seem awful, but he definitely wasn’t for her.

“Wait!” Kokichi whined as the girl was leaving, grabbing at the tail of her skirt, “Didn’t you hear me earlier?! These creeps kidnapped me! They’re gonna kill me!”

“Stop talking,” Kyoko mumbled.

Shuichi sighed, running his hands through his hair, “Please, Kokichi, you’re giving me grey hairs and I’m barely eighteen…”

Tsumugi rubbed over her eyes, exhaustion ringing over her, “Me too and I haven’t even known you for ten minutes.”

~~

“No more crazies… no more crazies… no more crazies…” Tsumugi repeatedly murmured to herself as she rubbed her temples. Finally taking notice of the camera pointed at her, she hissed, “You better cut that.”

Once again, there was the motion of a nod from the director before following Tsumugi around to the back of the elementary school neighboring Hope’s Peak to find two more groups. This time, however, the two groups were working together extremely well and weren’t fighting whatsoever. Who knew how refreshing it could be to not hear yelling for five minutes?

It seemed that the third-grade student body had been split in half between a group of two and a group of three. The two were monitoring as kids ran around the large field - the three had kids standing at canvases with just a few bouncing around one with long hair tied in what appeared to be fishtail braids.

“Aw,” Tsumugi smiled at the sweet sight, “Okay, let’s go over there.”

A voice popped up from behind the camera, “I heard about these girls from the headmaster. Those two,” he pointed over to a muscular girl picking up kids on her arms with a shorter girl trailing behind her, “are Sakura Ogami and Aoi Asahina. They go around to closeby elementary schools and set up field days for the kids,” then to the group of three, made up of a white-haired girl in a long yellow overcoat, a redhead with extremely pointy boots, and the fishtail girl throwing obviously fake hits with some kids, “They’re Angie Yonaga, Himiko Yumeno, and Tenko Chabashira. They teach kids about the arts. Except for Tenko who teaches them her made up Neo-Aikido, something about controlling emotions and all that junk.”

“Wow,” Tsumugi breathed out, still approaching the two groups, “that’s so great. They seem like a fun- “

Then, out of nowhere, Tenko suddenly tossed Angie over her shoulder, causing an eruption of cheers to burst from the children.

Tsumugi’s face fell, she turned around and nearly ran out from behind the school and towards the car. Chants of “no, no, no, no” leaving her lips.

~~

“Oh, finally, normal people…”

The two boys in the copy room looked up at Tsumugi’s sigh.

“You must be the documentary girl?” the brunette smiled slightly, unevenly, “Sorry, I don’t know your name,” he lifted up a stack of papers, “Kyoko probably mentioned it but I was grading.”

“Tsumugi Shirogane!” the white-haired boy cheered, setting down the papers in his hands, “You’ve come to get my worthless opinion on whether or not student workers should be paid?! How incredible!”

“Sorry about him,” the shorter of the pair chuckled, “He has an inferiority complex. We’re working on it.”

“Uh-huh,” not as bland as she thought, apparently, “You two are… TAs?”

“Yeah,” the shorter nodded once again, “We work under Miss Yukizome, but lots of students everywhere are TAs, so I don’t think we should really have a say in this…”

“Especially me!” the other one butted in, “I barely help at all… I’m just garbage…”

“Nagito, you’re not garbage, and you do a lot!”

“With all respect, Makoto, the only reason you’re stuck with me is because all the other teachers can’t stand me!”

“Well, the only reason I’m here is because nobody else had a spot open.”

“Do you two just comfort each other about your hang-ups?”

“Yeah,” Makoto nodded, already pulling Nagito into a hug and patting his back, “it’s nice. Like super amateur therapy.”

“Painfully normal in comparison to the others,” Tsumugi turned to the camera, “Almost as plain as me.”

“No,” the voice from behind the camera peeped up again, “You’re still definitely the plainer one.”

~~

“We duel-work animal care and the occult,” Sonia cheered, holding a small puppy in her arms as Gundham fed hamsters in the back of the room, “It’s quite a bit of work but we manage, don’t we?”

Gundham nodded silently.

“Does…” Tsumugi gestured to the boy, “Does he ever speak?”

“You haven’t built enough resistance to the poison that would slip from his lips, unfortunately,” Sonia shakes her head, frowning slightly, “He doesn’t speak to people unless they’re immune.”

“And you are?”

“Surprisingly, yes!” eyes lighting up at the question, Sonia nodded excitedly, “It seems that I have managed to build up an immunity to his poison without even realizing it! Is that not amazing?”

Refraining from rolling her eyes, Tsumugi merely glanced between the beautiful blond and the boy hiding his bright red face in his scarf, “It truly is amazing, yes. How wonderfully random.”

“Wanna go?” the director asked.

“Yeah…”

~~

The camera aimed at a downcast Tsumugi, a frown depressingly obvious over her features. The voice behind the camera popped up, “Wanna try Celestia at the math club again?”

“And get told that only people she hates more than her own clubmates are theatre kids and then get called theatre kids and yelled at to get out again?” the girl grumbled, letting her microphone fall down into her lap as she sat slumped against the wall, “No thanks, Monokuma.”

“I mean, she’s not wrong,” the camera turned to show off the boy going by Monokuma with heterochromatic black-and-red eyes, half-and-half dyed hair between white and black. He snickered, “Yeah, I’m a big theatre kid. It’s unfortunate. You are, too, just let it go.”

“She might be right, but it’s still mean!”

[glassesandkim]

ok so anon sent me a rant that i asked for and I want to answer it but under a cut so we don’t have to spam the dash. 

Click under the read more if you want to read me and anon’s rant on grey’s anatomy s17 finale

anon said: “Magston... what the hell lmao. They literally had a whole plot in 1716 about postponing their wedding so they could do it right (with family) and then winston was getting all mad about it and thought maggie was backing out (even though its a pandemic and theyve only been engaged for like what? 3 months tops). Then they flew their older parent/grandparent out (in the middle of a pandemic and severely affects old people), only to have them object to the wedding at the ceremony and then they postpone anyways???? What???? They couldnt have done that over the phone lmao like I liked the idea of magston a lot in s16 but their arc this season made me hate them so much lol. Sometimes I think theyre less developed than schmico (like which writer decided to marry them this season ????? Fireable offence imo considering they have no previous relationship history Im pretty sure and Im pretty sure they were only dating/engaged for like a year???? Even if the show was ending a moving in together/dating/engagment endgame would have worked for them? Anyways).”

First of all: what the fuck is grey’s obsession with marriage?????

It might just be me, but take it from someone who worked in the wedding industry for 3 years, and lemme tell you: weddings are fun, beautiful, amazing, but they’re also hella for the privileged. YOU KNOW IT CAN COST UP TO $700 CAD TO HIRE AN OFFICIANT??? So the job Richard had? He could’ve made an easy few hundies. 

I really hate how fucking fake and badly acted that scene was when Maggie’s dad and Winston’s grandma objected to the marriage. Why did they wait until then and EMBARRASS both of them???? Like you said, what the hell was the point of last episode’s whole debacle???? They could’ve just not done that plot in ep 16 and had them get married anyway in ep 17 and had someone object to their marriage. 

Can’t believe Maggie flew two old people around the country during a goddamn pandemic. How irresponsible is it???? Again, I don’t know if it’s because they’re just way more relaxed in the states than where I’m from but wth....

anon said: Okay and then amelink. I LOVED how amelia was written this episode, but in the context of the time jump it was kind of weird? Like amelia was feeling this way about marriage/more kids for 8-9 months and never even hinted to link that she wasnt interested? And I like to think link respects amelia a lot, so why didnt he bring up marriage again before proposing? Or ask mer/maggie what they thought about him proposing? I can understand her not talking to link about her concerns but I find it hard to believe she didnt bring it up with mer/maggie once in that time frame? Idk it was just rushed and weird. And amelia clearly wasnt okay with the fostering thing and he still went with it anyways lol.

I can’t remember and I don’t care enough to go watch the ep, but did Amelia and Link move out of Mer’s house? 

The only good thing about this episode was Amelia, especially her conversation with Richard (in that not very Seattle courtyard rofl HONESTLY GREY’S PUT SOME EFFORT IN YOUR SETS. YOU KNOW YOUR ENTIRE SHOW IS SET IN SEATTLE RIGHT/???? LIKE MAKE IT RAIN IN THAT COURTYARD TO REFLECT HOW AMELIA FEELS IDK GAWD)

I also can’t believe Amelia would just be like, welp! I guess I’m a double mom now of my own child and this random crotch child that my baby daddy promised to his best friend. And oh ya, I don’t want anymore children but shhh its a secert.

I mean, I know Amelia technically fostered before but ............. (i’ll continue this in the next segment)

anon said: And the fostering thing... Jo’s plot was weird this ep too lmao. Like maybe Im just dumb but they never explained why she failed her background check? Idk this plot would have been a much better season long arc than a one episode arc lol. Although I think the single parent thing might be fun next season (the weird jo/levi friendship will be worth it if we get schmico babysitting)

They didn’t really explain why she failed her bg check. I also don’t know how money can fix her failed background check.

Also how fucking shady is it that Link and Amelia fostered a child? Wouldn’t the foster people want to give a child to a stable family who, let’s think, ARE MARRIED and HAVE A HOME OF THEIR OWN?

Who’s the dumbass in the writer’s room that thought of this ludicrous convenient solution for Jo? Only people with that much money and power can steal children. 

I really thought Jo’s fight for Luna should’ve started earlier and when it didn’t start, I thought it would bleed into next season. It’s not easy to adopt a child. 

anon said: Also is our last jackson appearance on this show really a random facetime with jo? Would have much rather had a face maggie to congratulate her on her marriage (why wasnt he there???) 

Maggie’s kind of his step sister or whatever the f they are. Jackson could’ve taken a break from solving racism to attend his family member’s wedding, right?

anon said: Okay and then the interns... we never actually saw mer teaching them? Im hoping that theres a bigger intern/resident focus next season because of mers new job but now Im not optimistic haha. And why are the residents and interns grouped together? And why was levi so involved with mer’s patient that he wasnt pulled from the wedding to help???????? Its a double lung transplant get the upper year resident in there PLEASE!!! Or at least let him take over the surgery when mer passed out. Cristina would have been doing this shit in her intern year. I assure you he would much rather be at the surgery than the wedding of someone he has never interacted with. And Surely that surgery would have been better if more than 2 surgeons were working on it?????? my ONLY hope is that the time jump means we’re getting helm and levi aged up to 5th years and we get some chief resident/specialization/boards plots for them next year.

i hate grey’s and their ridiculous time jumps and blatant disregard to HOW THIS WILL AFFECT THE CAREERS OF THEIR RESIDENTS. 

I bet, like Teddy’s child, Levi and Helm are gonna be residents for 10 years and never choose a speciality. I want to revoke grey’s rights to call themselves a medical drama. There’s nothing medical about this show.

JUST WATCH MER TOUCH A DIRTY ASS BASIN AND THEN TOUCH A WHOLE HUMAN LUNG WITH THE SAME HANDS

YOU KNOW HOW DIRTY THAT BASIN IS SITTING ON WHATEVER THE FUCK IT WAS SITTING ON??? GET A NURSE TO HOLD THE BASIN. YOUR HANDS ARE STERILE

(Okay, I’m also sure the basin would be sterile but I can’t. I can’t believe in real life, they’d have the same hands hold a basin and a human organ. Someone who’s a doctor or works in the OR, tell me if I’m right. I need to know. )

Also, Bailey taking off her mask when she’s hugging Mer after the surgery. Right TO JAIL!

anon said: And finally... not half of maggies wedding guests ditching the wedding to go stand in a hallway and clap for mer LMAO like they couldnt have done that the next day??? Like I said before, most of this episode was comedy lol.

it’s COVID. Why are people going into the hospital unnecessarily??????

Yes, but you’re right. I gotta watch these eps like it’s a comedy or I’ll LOSE MY FACKING MIND

anon said: Redeeming parts of this episode: merhayes still has potential, need them to stop having the same scene over and over again though. Nico ily and alex get that cheque for sitting there, dancing, and clapping for ellen. Jo selling her shares to koracick... lmao. Bokhee and the other nurse getting their vaccines :’)

LOL @ merhayes having the same interaction. I was telling some people that I’d love for Hayes and Owen to have some scenes and for Hayes to kick Owen’s ass. Because like @schmico-ing said, Owen is a child collector and Hayes would absolutely fucking hate him.

YES ALEX LANDI GETTIN’ THAT DOUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHH. What an amazing job. I hope he gets paid in the 6 figures for his time at grey’s.

I don’t know how I feel about Koracick. I love caring Koracick. I hate asshole Koracick. I feel like they’re two different people. 

BOHKEE <3

Anyways, love your rants. I look forward to them when s18 starts or even whenever you have the odd urge to rant!

[pippytmi]

parent!au + meet messy + “that was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.”

Lena is not a fan of parks, generally speaking.

They’re just…public, and dirty, and entirely unpleasant. She can say with complete certainty that she has never, ever had a positive opinion of any day she’s spent in any park. But—and this is a begrudging but—Lena has committed to spending her weekends in this form of personal hell of sandboxes and juice pouches and sweaty, sun-kissed metal because it’s worth it.

“Mommy!” Lori toddles over, excitedly holding up a fallen leaf. “Tees!” She’s not able to form any “r” sound quite yet; her enthusiastic effort makes Lena smile.

“That’s pretty, baby,” Lena says, accepting the dirty offering when Lori holds it out. (She’ll worry about sanitizing her hands afterward, when Lori returns to the patch of grass she’s been inspecting.)

Lori gets just as easily excited about a smattering of dandelions two feet away, and begins determinedly making her way over. It is a good thing, too, because as Lena rises to follow—while sneakily discarding the dry leaf—she is the one who gets hit full-force by a wayward skateboarder.

Someone cries out; Lena isn’t even sure who. Then, “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” gets yelled into her ear, which suggests it must’ve been Lena to warrant such a frantic flurry of words.

“What the—” Lena makes to stand, but only tumbles all over again. She is tangled up with someone else—the skateboarder—and as a result, is left half-sprawled on the floor. “Excuse me, can you move?”

“Shoot, shoot, shoot,” the skateboarder mumbles, scrambling to crawl away. Lena doesn’t spare her a single glance, at first; she is only concerned about Lori.

Luckily, Lori seems extremely amused by the situation—she’s giggling when Lena reaches her, clapping her chubby hands. “Uh-oh!” she says. “Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh…” She uproots a couple of scraggly weeds, then proudly holds them out to Lena. “Flays,” she says. “Flays, Mommy.”

With the knowledge that her child isn’t traumatized, Lena can relax. “Thank you,” she says graciously, gingerly taking the handful of dandelion scraps. “These are beautiful flowers.” Only then, once normalcy has been regained, she remembers that someone else was involved in this situation. 

The rogue skateboarder has removed her helmet (which looks like it’s been haphazardly decorated in Spiderman stickers), and rubs at the top of her head. As if sensing Lena’s gaze on her, she suddenly looks up—and then winces.

“That,” the stranger says, “was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.”

If Lena were feeling more graceful, she would’ve asked whether or not the woman was alright. But since she’s rather affronted, she decidedly does not. “What, exactly, are you doing?” she demands. “My daughter was right here! She could’ve been hurt.”

“I’m sorry,” the stranger says meekly. “I was trying to make a jump, and I completely lost control. Are you okay? Is your daughter okay? I can—I can take you to a hospital! I don’t have a car, but, I do have…bus fare. And a working phone.” She fishes in her jean pockets, then triumphantly pulls a cracked smartphone out for Lena to see. “At least I think it’s working…” 

“I’m—alright, thank you,” Lena says, the fight slowly draining out of her. And, because it’s the expected thing to do, she follows up with: “Are you okay? I do have a car, if you need a hospital.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” The woman struggles to get her helmet on again, but pauses to throw Lena a rueful smile. “Sorry, again. If you change your mind about that hospital…well I’ll just be,” and she jerks her thumb over her shoulder, “trying that trick again.”

Lena blinks. “I’m sorry. Didn’t you just say attempting that trick in the first place was a bad idea?”

“Theoretically…” And the woman’s smile broadens, albeit sheepishly. “I promise I won’t crash into you again, though. Pinky promise!” She holds out her hand, then stops mid-air when she realizes her whole sleeve is streaked with dirt. “Oops. Actually, better not.”

Before Lena can think of what to reply, the rumble of skateboards drowns her out. Two other people come over, one a tall, broad-shouldered guy who’s frantic and one shorter girl who is filming the whole scene.

“Kara, that looked bad,” the guy says. “How are you feeling?”

The stranger—Kara, apparently—merely throws the two a thumbs-up. “Okie-dokie,” she says. “Ground’s actually pretty nice and soft, you know.”

“That’s mud,” the girl filming snorts. “Your sister’s going to be so fucking mad at you when I show her this.”

“Whoa, hey!” Kara says. “There’s a kid here, you can’t curse like that.”

As if on cue, Lori comes wobbling over, absolutely enraptured by the sight of the skateboards. Lena protectively shields her behind her legs, refusing to let her get too close.

“Shit, my bad,” the girl says. “Uh—I mean, not shit—”

“Quit while you’re ahead, Maggie,” the guy says, shaking his head. “We’ll, um, let you finish your flirting and catch you by the tennis courts, Kara.”

Kara’s eyes widen. “I’m not flirting,” she says. She twists around to face Lena, panicked, and repeats, “Definitely not flirting. Not that I wouldn’t flirt with you. Because I would! Except you have a kid, so you’re probably married, and even though I could probably take your husband on in a fist fight, it would be bad to have to fist fight in the first place, so…”

“I…see,” Lena says. Lori pokes her head between Lena’s calves, trying to see what all the commotion is about, and Lena bends down to pick her up. “I’m sorry, why would you be fist fighting my nonexistent husband in this scenario?”

“Uh.” Kara scratches her chin, tilts her head like she’s seriously pondering her answer. “I don’t know, it’s just happened the last two times I’ve tried to flirt with someone. Maybe I should really stop flirting with women at parks—they’re always the married ones.”

Lena isn’t sure if she should be flattered or not. (Maybe it’s a testament to how slow her love life is these days that, somehow, makes her inclined for the former.) “Yes, that would probably be for the best.”

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like—I don’t flirt with a lot of women. Or often. Only if they’re flirty with me first. Or—”

“I don’t…need an explanation,” Lena says, hoisting Lori a bit higher on her hip. “Maybe you should go find your friends.”

“…yeah, I’ll,” Kara nods in their direction lamely, “do that. Nice to meet you, uh—”

“Lena.”

“Lena,” Kara repeats. “I’m Kara.” She casts a wide grin at Lori and adds, “Nice to meet this cutie, too. I like your hat, kid.”

“At!” Lori proudly pats her gardener’s hat (a gift from her grandmother, who apparently has forgotten what children wear). She plucks it off her own head, then tries to reach over and drop it on Kara’s helmet.

“Oh, is this a hat trade?” Kara plucks off her helmet, then offers to put it on Lori. Lori is positively thrilled, and once the heavy helmet is dwarfing her head, she squirms over to face Lena and beam. Meanwhile Kara appears equally ridiculous, with a tiny hat perched precariously atop her head.

Lena can’t help it; she smiles at the silly sight of her daughter. “Okay, Lori, give Kara her hat back now.”

“At,” Lori says, but sadly, as Kara makes to take her helmet back.

Kara stops. “You know what?” she says, handing Lena Lori’s tiny straw hat back. “She can keep it. Suits her better anyhow.”

“No, it’s far too big for her. And not really appropriate, given the circumstance.”

“What, that I’m a total stranger?” Kara grins. “That’s okay. Why don’t you hang on to it for now, maybe give it back to me later? I’m going to be here for a while longer anyway.”

Lena narrows her eyes curiously. “Is that you trying to flirt again?”

“Well…I mean, you said you don’t have a husband,” Kara says, and with that she’s snatching her board up off the ground and taking a step back. Her blond hair sticks out every which way, and she pauses to pat it down before she throws Lena one last, carefree smile and jogs in the direction her friends have gone.

Lori squirms to be let down, and Lena pauses to remove the gifted helmet before she allows her the luxury. All things considered, well, it wouldn’t hurt to stay a little longer in this awful place. (At least, until Lori gets tired of the helmet and Lena can return it to its…oddly charming owner.)