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torukmaktoskxawng · 1 year

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Headcanons if Avatar!Grace lived and raised Kiri alongside the Sullys and adopted Spider:

"Jake Sully, I know damn well that you didn't just ground your son for recklessness! 'You wanna hear about reckless? How about the time you taunted a baby hammerhead titanothere and its mother before being chased into the jungle by a Thanator like the asshat you are."

Spider is depressed because Neytiri has yet to warm up to him. Grace gathers him up like he's still a baby and since she's a Na'vi and he's a human, it's so easy to do: "Give her some time, kiddo. Neytiri has lost more than most to the Sky People. In the meantime, go find your sister. I think she's been wanting to show you her newest verse in her songcord."

"Neteyam, sometimes you gotta just ignore your father. He's a jarhead. No. I'm not telling you what that means."

Kiri when she's vocal about her insecurities and how she feels different from everyone else. Grace silently listens before saying: "You hear Eywa? Normally, I would call you crazy from a scientist's perspective... but after what Eywa has done for me... After she saved all that I am in this body while the human one died, and after she gave me you, I don't think it sounds as crazy anymore. You're a miracle, baby. My sweet little miracle. You and your brother are so special, and any moron who says otherwise must have a death wish."

Ever watch Once Upon a Time? Remember this scene between Regina and Emma? ⤵️

Quaritch: He's my son-!

Grace: HE'S NOT, HE'S MINE!

"Jake, Lo'ak came to me traumatized because he walked in on you and Neytiri."

Jake: It was an accident. But at the same time, he can't just walk in without announcing himself.

"No? Huh. That's funny. Hey, I think Norm should go talk to your son about the time you wheeled in on him and Trudy--"

Speaking of Norm, Grace has a hard time being able to fit herself in their portable biolab due to the size so Norm and Max build a large greenhouse and lab meant for Grace's new height difference. They can't change the fact that the microscopes are still too small for her hands, however.

"If my hands weren't capable of crushing the damn thing I would've done it myself instead of letting you idiots tamper the samples with your saliva AGAIN."

She still teaches all the village kids how to speak English among other human customs. A new school is built in the mountains and Tuk is her best student, obviously.

Grace vocally admits she prefers Jake in a wheelchair because he was easier to push around. To which Jake responds: "Woman, you know damn well you still push me around."

Here's some more angst: Kiri and Spider are arguing and I believe this scene comes from the live action Mowgli movie:

Kiri: You're my best friend, Spider. I understand what it's like for no one to want you. I don't have any friends neither. But we have each other and we're like the same--

Spider: We're not the same.

Kiri: We are. Because- you're special, and I'm special--

Spider: WE'RE NOT SPECIAL! Don't you get it?! We'll never be one of them! We're freaks! You're not special, Kiri! It's just something Mom tells you to make you feel better about yourself BECAUSE YOU CAME OUT WRONG!

(Side note: Wow. I just made myself cry.)

Grace would be beside herself. She's trying to comfort Kiri after the fight and trying to figure out what to do with Spider. She knows she should ground him, but at the same time, she knows where he's coming from and why he finally snapped. With Quaritch hunting them and likely trying to take Spider back, the boy is beyond stressed on top of still trying to fit in.

Lo'ak ended up being the one who got Kiri and Spider to make up after giving each other the silent treatment for a week. Lo'ak understood them better than Grace ever could.

Grace, with Rotxo, probably: If you break my daughter's heart, then I'll break your tail.

Jake is trying to get his whole family to behave alongside the Metkayina so that they could stay there and not get kicked out. He didn't realize he'll have to make GRACE AUGUSTINE behave on top of that.

Ronal and Grace have MAD respect for each other you can't convince me otherwise.

I NEED to see Avatar!Grace riding a skimwing with the brightest smile on her face that would be so amazing.

Tsireya buddies up to her immediately, sticking to her side like glue and asking a hundred questions, usually followed by "Can I take Kiri and Spider swimming?"

Ao'nung keeps a good several feet between himself and Grace. He's suspicious and she straightens him out with one glare, ESPECIALLY after he bullied her kids around for being freaks.

Grace even got Tonowari to laugh when she came dragging his son home by the ear for talking rudely to her.

Grace is like a second mom to Neytiri when they're so far away from home.

And finally:

"I'm too old for this bullshit."

Please reblog and add your own headcanons! I need more Grace

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smashing-teacups · 5 months

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Atonement Chapter 44: A Sticky Situation

A/N: We havena done this in a very long time… 🥹

Happy five year anniversary to this not-so-wee tale of mine. Thank you so much to all who have come along for the journey. I appreciate you more than you know!

For better or for worse, they decided to move in straight away.

It was in large part a financial decision. After months of working overtime, Claire had a decent sum tucked away in her checking account, but an indefinite hotel stay was a drain on their savings that they simply couldn’t justify, given the option to stay in the mill for free. As soon as that much was decided, the pair of them had locked into what Claire called triage mode, trying to sort out what they would need to purchase imminently if they were actually going to attempt to live in a half-functional construction zone. Foremost in both of their minds was the pressing issue of heat: Claire insisted that she was fine with just setting up camp near the hearth, and was busy Googling the nearest places to buy firewood in bulk. Unconvinced that the fireplace alone would be sufficient for his painfully thin and perpetually freezing wife, Jamie had pulled up the page for the local hardware store on his own mobile, sifting through the reviews on various portable space heaters that they could position strategically around the house.

After a few minutes, Claire’s musing broke the silence of their individual research. “I suppose if we don’t have a heat source then we don’t have hot water.” As he glanced up from his screen, she made an odd wee movement, squinting one eye as she shifted her hips off to one side and back again. “What are we going to do about showers?”

Pocketing his mobile, he crossed his arms loosely over his front. “Aye, I was just thinkin’ on that myself. The plumbing’s already in, just need to finish gettin’ the boiler system up and running. Shouldna take me more’n a week or two, but”—There it was again, the microscopic spasm of Claire’s cheek, this time as her thighs clenched together—“in the meantime, I reckon we can use the showers over at the gym. It’s no’ but ten minutes down the road.”

“Sounds good,” she said mildly, though the tightness around her eyes didn’t slacken. Jamie regarded her for a long moment, frowning with the effort to pin down the source of her unease. If she wasn’t comfortable showering at the gym, he was sure one of their neighbors would be more than happy to let them use theirs…

Before the offer could even make its way to his lips, though, Claire shifted again, and something about the way she moved the third time — the subtle, swiveling twitch of her pelvis, the grit of her teeth — struck him as familiar where the other motions had eluded him. He knew all too well the squirming discomfort of having an itch in a place that couldn’t be scratched in decent company.

But that was just it: he wasn’t company, he was her husband. There wasn’t an inch of her body that he hadn’t tasted or touched; Christ, he’d been buried to the hilt inside her not half an hour ag—

… oh.

Ohhhh.

Quite abruptly, he struck recognition like a brick wall.

Keep reading...

#atonement #smashing-teacups #jamie x claire #outlander fanfic

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sixhours · 6 months

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Firsts - Laugh

Anna’s firsts, a series of fluffy drabbles set in the One Day at a Time universe.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, soft!Joel, no really super soft!Joel, Joel is a sap, smut, smut but no one gets to finish :(, babies are assholes, Ellie is a little shit, use of the terms crotch nugget and vaginal dumpling, ew, fluff, fluffy baby stuff, no really this is sickeningly sweet, tooth-rotting, don't forget to brush your teeth Word count: 1.7k

Notes: Oops, I made it smutty. Sickly sweet with a dash of humor and smut, nary an angsty cloud in sight. Joel thinks of Sarah but it's not sad.

You can also read Firsts on AO3.

Joel rarely misses the QZ; the crowding, the starvation, the shit-shoveling, the hopelessness that clung to the place like a skunk’s spray. But once in a blue moon, he longs for the kind of anonymity he’ll never find in the commune of Jackson, Wyoming.

Like today, when he’s picking up his share of spring vegetables at the greenhouse after work. Because Marjorie, the nice old lady who lives three houses down, the one who works as a nurse at the clinic, has a message to pass along with his bag of greens.

“Oh, Joel! You’re clear!”

“M’sorry?”

“Your sample! It came back clear,” she smiles, then offers a clarifying stage whisper. “No sperm. Thought you’d want to know.”

He blinks, instinctively looking downward. He’s still wearing pants. This isn’t one of those mortifying dreams he used to get, back when his worst fear was showing up to work with his fly open.

As if it wasn’t bad enough he’d had to walk a cup of his jizz to the clinic in a paper bag and hand it directly to his elderly neighbor.

As if he hadn’t blushed like a school kid when Marjorie had accepted it way too loudly and cheerfully like she couldn’t wait to get the stuff under a microscope.

As if he hadn’t sat on the couch with an ice pack on his groin for two days while Ellie teased him mercilessly about his junk.

But now he’s shooting blanks. And thanks to Marjorie, everyone in the vicinity of the greenhouse—a not-insignificant number of people given Jackson’s tiny size—knows it.

He can’t get out of there fast enough.

He slams his way into the house, kicks off his boots by the door, the bag of vegetables landing with a thud on the counter.

“The hell, dude?” Ellie pops up from the couch, gesturing at the portable crib nearby. “You’re gonna wake your crotch nugget.”

Ellie’s new favorite thing is to find the crudest nicknames for Anna and coo them at her in a sing-song voice until the baby grins. Anna probably can’t hear her, it’s probably just the sheer joy on Ellie’s face every time she does it, but it always seems to work. For all of Joel’s protests, Ellie and her foul mouth can make the kid smile like no one else.

“That’s awf—don’t—don’t call her that,” he winces, checking on the baby, who remains blissfully asleep despite his racket.

Ellie eyes him, his scowl deeper than usual, a flush of embarrassment still creeping up the back of his neck.

“Who pissed in your cereal?”

“No one,” he grumbles. “M’goin’ upstairs.”

“Sure, and leave me with the womb rat.“

“Ellie—“

“It’s fine,” she waves him off, collapsing back on the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Free babysitting, that’s all I’m good for.”

Joel looks to the crib and then pointedly to Ellie, sighing. “She’s asleep. I’m here now. You’re free to go anytime.”

“And miss all this?” she snarks, waving her hand around. “Whatever.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, trudging up the stairs.

The bedroom door is closed. He cracks it open and finds Charlie sitting cross-legged on the bed in what she lovingly calls her “tits out” position, breast pump in one hand and a book in the other, frowning intently at her reading material. She barely looks up when he enters.

Her presence in his life still catches him by surprise. Her smaller, softer clothes alongside his in the closet, her flowery lavender soap in the shower, filaments of silver hair threaded into their bedding.

“Hey,” he murmurs, and all his earlier humiliation is forgotten at the sight of her. She looks fucking amazing. Topless, hair mussed, wearing a pair of his gray sweats, bare feet poking out of the rolled-up cuffs, effortlessly comfortable and vulnerable and his . A pleasant heat crawls through his belly and he actually starts salivating like a goddamned dog.

He’s a hopeless case.

A hopeless case who’s shooting blanks.

Maybe this day can be salvaged after all.

“Kid’s nappin’,” he murmurs in a low voice he hopes sounds seductive.

“Hmm?” Charlie says, not taking her eyes off her book. Must be a good one.

“Anna’s out,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt, unable to take his eyes off her as he crawls onto the bed. “The, uh…vasectomy worked.”

“Uh-huh,” she murmurs, chewing on her plush lower lip. Then she blinks, finally turning her attention to him. “Wait, what?”

“Vasectomy worked,” he says easily as he plucks the book from her hand, creases the page corner to mark her place, and sets it aside.

“How do you kn–”

“Don’t ask,” he grumbles, sliding forward and nuzzling at the base of her jaw. “Thought we could celebrate.”

“Oh?” She breathes a sweet little sigh into his good ear as he plants slow, soft kisses down her neck. He gently takes the pump away; it comes off her breast with an audible pop , and he immediately replaces it with his mouth, catching the last of her sweetness on his tongue.

“Ohhhh, that’s ni–wait wait, careful, don’t spill.”

He shoots her a look, then delicately sets the half-full bottle on the nightstand without taking his lips off her.

“Smooth,” she giggles wryly as he laves at her nipple, feeling it tighten against the soft, wet muscle of his tongue. Her laughter dissolves into a moan when his hand cups her other breast, tip slick with milk that he circles and rubs into her skin.

The whole fucking town might know about the status of his vas deferens , but this will make it more than worth it.

Charlie shimmies out of her sweats– his sweats, and she’s not wearing underwear, is she trying to fucking kill him? Or did they run out of clean laundry?

Whatever the reason, his jeans are suddenly painfully tight. He drags himself away and shucks them off, cock aching as it springs free. She’s already sliding down the bed, sliding under him, spreading her legs, touching herself. He wants to lick and taste and suck every part of her, but he settles for a nip to her inner thigh and a kiss to her stomach before he’s covering her body with his, hyper-aware of the tiny human alarm clock ticking downstairs.

Charlie reaches between them, angling her hips, rubbing his cock through her folds, guiding him home. She’s soft and warm as he sinks into her tight, wet grip. They stay like that for a moment, connected but not moving, breathing together, no barriers to dampen the sensation. Finally , he thinks dully. Finally .

“Hi,” she whispers, her soft smile and the achingly hot clutch of her making his brain go fuzzy around the edges until the only response he can muster is a grunt. He captures her lips in his, feeling the blissful wet slip of her in his mouth, the pulse of her tongue at the back of his teeth.

“Yesssss,” she sighs when his hips rock forward of their own volition, one deep thrust in and a slow, agonizing withdrawal that leaves him panting.

“Fuck, baby, so good,” he groans when he’s able to form words again. Not his most eloquent work, but it will have to do, because she’s sucking at his lower lip, swirling her tongue against it, teasing him with little pecks until he growls and threads his fingers through her hair, pulling the strands taut and anchoring her mouth to his.

She wraps her legs around him, urging him deeper, cradling him there. He pins her with his hips and presses her into the mattress, grinding hard against her until she moans, the sound reverberating through his chest and stomach and straight to his groin. A particularly deep thrust has her gripping at his shoulders, blunt nails leaving little marks on his skin.

“Fuck, Joel, right there, right–ahhhh,” she keens.

“Shh,” he pants, soothing her kiss-bruised lips with his, forehead pressed to hers. “Gotta…be quiet. Kid’s…downstairs.”

As if on cue, Ellie’s voice rings up the stairwell, a keyed-up kind of shrill that sends an unpleasant shiver down his spine.

“Joel!”

“Shit,” he hisses.

“Joel! Charlie!”

“We’re coming,” he barks, thinking they aren’t coming—not now, anyway—and that’s a goddamn shame. He plants an apologetic kiss at Charlie’s temple before he’s out of bed and rummaging around on the floor for his boxers.

He yanks on his underwear and flies down the stairs, half out of breath and fearing the worst.

“What? What’s wrong? What happened?”

Ellie is holding Anna, awake and bright-eyed, both grinning with delight.

“She laughed!”

“She–what?” Charlie is at his back now, wrapped in her robe.

“She fucking laughed, dude! C’mon, do it again! Show ‘em!”

Anna smiles and coos, spit bubbles popping at the corner of her little mouth.

“I swear she just did it,” Ellie says. “Come on, bug, let’s hear it. Show your mama and dad what you can do.”

She sticks out her tongue, lightly bouncing Anna up and down until the baby gives a happy little gurgle…but no laugh.

“Ugh, kid, you’re killing me here!”

Joel clears his throat. “Uh, I’m gonna go–”

“Wait!” Ellie cries, eyes lighting up. She pulls the baby close until their noses are almost touching. Her voice is an exaggerated whisper.

“ Vaginal dumpling !”

Joel groans. “For fuck’s sake, Ellie–”

He’s cut off by the sound of Anna’s unmistakable belly laugh, a riotous cackle that wraps its tiny fingers around Joel’s heart and steals the breath from his lungs.

She sounds so much like Sarah that it hurts, but it’s a good pain, a healing pain. The notes carry on the air like a memory set free from somewhere deep and dark and long forgotten.

He wants to hear her laugh again and again and again.

“There it is!” Ellie whoops, bringing him back, anchoring him to the present. “I knew you could do it, ya little crotch goblin!”

She turns to them, smug and pleased with herself. Then she pauses, her grin fading into a grimace as she takes in the sight of her father and Charlie, rumpled and half-dressed.

“Joel? Where the fuck are your clothes?”

Anna’s laugh rings out again, loud and clear and perfect.

#fanfic #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #smut #babyfic #family fluff #fluff #ellie williams #joel miller x oc

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medprime · 1 year

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Future of Microscope Objectives Tackling Future Challenges

Miniaturization for added mobility

UV Microscopy-short wavelengths for increased resolution and contrast enhancement

Automated systems for more throughput

Liquid lens integration for quick focus adjustments

Cilika from the house of Medprime Technologies, a medical device company, is a major breakthrough in field of future-ready technology pertaining to pathology, telepathology, teleradiology and telemedicine arenas. The integration of tablets and smartphones with microscopy brings to the table a multitude of ways to process, share and analyze data directly from the microscope.

Cilika Portable Series

Cilika Portable, world’s first smartphone integrated microscope, is the perfect choice for work-from-home and extensive travelling, capturing wide field of view with True View Technology. Its unmatched high-quality imaging, battery backup and lightweight body with travel bag makes it an undisputable choice for field visits, medical camps and seminars. Available in both standard and premium variants, it has oil immersion plan achromat lenses and other state-of-the-art features.

Read more here - https://www.medprimetech.com/blog/the-bright-future-of-digital-microscopy/

#digital microscope #portable microscope #smartphone microscope

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materialsscienceandengineering · 2 months

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Small steps for electrons—big steps for the future? Ultrafast microscope reveals electron pathways in solar cells

In the search for more efficient and sustainable energy generation methods, a class of materials called metal halide perovskites have shown great promise. In the few years since their discovery, novel solar cells based on these materials have already achieved efficiencies comparable to commercial silicon solar cells. Yet, perovskite solar cells offer significant advantages over silicon: Their manufacturing and energy costs are lower, as they can be produced using cost-effective coating processes. Moreover, their flexibility and lightweight nature allows for application on a wide range of surfaces, from portable electronics to innovative building facades. But how does a solar cell actually work? Sunlight, which consists of individual light quanta called photons, is absorbed in the solar cell. The photons transfer their energy to electrons, lifting them to higher-energy states where they are free to move. The free electrons are then extracted at electrical contacts and converted into usable electrical energy.

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lovedrunkheadcanons · 1 year

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Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

RATED M

The clock struck five in the morning. Contaminated test tubes and beakers were wet in the sink. A bright green bar nearing 65% completion was loading on a large computer screen surrounded by monitors. Shoko was busy in her lab, observing a single drop of blood, splotched between two thin slides under a beaming microscope. She hadn't left work since yesterday. You’d think after all these years hunkered down in the school’s basement like an obsessive recluse, she’d be used to the loneliness. She could already hear poor Ghost yowling for his breakfast, but there was no room for pause. The blood sample results from the New National Theater had finally come back, but Shoko was only interested in one.

The jujutsu doctor’s lips drew together in concentration, suspending the tail end of a depleted cigarette. Screw resolutions. This was far more important than her respiratory health. Her findings so far were not as she’d hoped. The red blood cell count was starkly lesser than last week. She reckoned about a third of them had vitiated in that timeframe, even with the aid of reverse curse technique, but how? How? The discovery troubled her. She would start from scratch again if need be. After all, there was still more testing to be done.

Exhausted, Shoko wiped the beads of sweat off her brow and smothered her depleted cigarette in the ashtray. The computer monitors increased to 66%. She just prayed her hypothesis did not hold the truth.

Nanami Kento removed the strainer of brewed oolong leaves from the Royal Copenhagen he had sitting on a tray; a teapot and two cups with matching saucers, Blue Fluted Full Lace. They were heirlooms once owned by his late great uncle, who subsequently died of a stroke three years ago; another Henriksen lost. He had no wife or children and his mother didn’t want them, despite their value, so she bequeathed the china over to him. Not that he ever had a reason to use it. The full set of plates and fine tableware cost more than his apartment lease. He mostly kept the novelties for decoration. And perhaps nostalgia.

But not today.

Today he had a guest.

Nanami closed the lid on his uncle’s Copenhagen teapot and lifted the tray to walk back inside the living room of his small, one-bedroom sized apartment. It wasn’t the grandest place in the world, nor the cheapest. He could afford a much bigger unit if he wished, yet the space was well accommodated. It was furnished with all the essentials befitting of a bachelor; functional kitchen appliances, a washing machine and dryer, a brand new air conditioning system, and modern furniture. He had picked the farthest unit down the hall, so he wouldn’t be subjected to the loud elevator cranking up and down the many floors. It allowed him some peace and quiet in this bustling, wayward city known as Tokyo, granted, if you ignored the endless stream of ambulance sirens, blaring jumbotrons, and cries for help.

The part-time Jujutsu sorcerer entered his living room and acknowledged his guest sitting on the sofa.

“I apologize for bringing you out here like I did. I’m usually not this spontaneous.”

Nanami set the tray down along the coffee table and handed his guest a teacup. Hannah smiled at her host warmly and took the blue and white china from his hand. The porcelain clashed with the pink roses on her dress.

“Not at all, it’s perfectly alright,” she assured him. “I hear you’ve been busy with work, so this is me intruding on your time.” She looked down at the coffee table. “Anyway, I hope you like the rødgrød. Satoru mentioned you were Danish, so...”

Nanami sat down on the leather armchair, opposite her, and glanced at the small portable crockpot she had brought atop the table. Rødgrød med fløde was as much part of the Danish diet as cheeseburgers and fries were to the American. People preferred eating the berry porridge with custard or poured over freshly baked bread. Everyone loved it. Nanami hadn’t tasted the dessert since he was a young boy visiting his grandparents on holiday. Hannah had used raspberries and cherries for hers; exactly how his mormor used to make it. The tarter, the better.

Well, there were those waves of nostalgia hitting him again. He’d sample a bite later.

Satoru had dropped his wife off at his place that afternoon and hurried to go “run some errands.” Whatever that meant. Nanami had no choice but to leave the office. As ever, the Six Eyed moron liked to make things difficult and keep his whereabouts elusive, in addition to getting his lineage wrong.

“A quarter Danish,” Nanami clarified, loosening the lavender silk tie around his neck. He hadn’t been allotted time to change out of his business attire. “My grandfather was born and raised in Denmark, however my grandmother is Swedish.”

Hannah looked positively delighted.

“Ah, a Swede and a Dane,” she exclaimed. It would explain his blond hair. “That’s quite a match. The closest I got to living in Denmark was Germany. Did your grandparents ever alternate between countries?”

“For a time,” the quarter Dane replied. “But my grandmother has lived alone in Aarhus since my grandfather’s passing. I still get Christmas cards from her every year. She’ll be ninety-one this October.”

Unable to stop herself, Hannah heard the word “Christmas” and blurted the next question out loud without thinking.

“Oh. So you’re Christian?”

She could see the tug pull on the corner of his lips, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, and instantly regretted it. He was so cool, you’d think he hadn’t reacted at all. The quarter Dane shook his head. “Mom had me baptized in the Lutheran church as a baby to appease my grandfather, but the buck stopped there. She wasn’t very religious and I myself hold no beliefs.”

Hannah felt her cheeks burn hotter than the tea she was sipping, flushed with embarrassment. Her shoulders sagged. Of course he wasn’t Christian. What a foolish thing to expect? She felt awkward.

“I see,” she said rather sheepishly. “Please, forgive me. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Nanami nodded understandingly. He thought it wasn’t dumb of her to ask, but with introductions out of the way, they had official matters to attend to.

“Satoru said you had some information about a possible Sukuna finger.”

Hannah nervously tucked a strand of long auburn hair behind her ear, lowering the expensive Copenhagen in her lap.

“Yes,” she said, swallowing her tea and straightening her bad posture. “I think I know where one is.”

Nanami leaned back against the armchair and crossed his legs, hands folded patiently in his lap. His eyes never wavered.

“I’m listening.”

Hannah coughed. “Well, you see,” she began, trying to decide where to start. “I think nothing of them at first. My dreams - er visions - are often quite,” she searched for the adjective, “sporadic, if you know what I mean. But lately I’ve been having a recurring dream.”

“A recurring dream.” Nanami quirked a pencil thin, blond eyebrow. “I’m guessing that’s a dead giveaway?”

Hannah let slip a dry laugh. “You’d be correct. In my experience, whenever a dream is recurring, it’s usually indicative of a vision.”

“What has the vision shown you?”

“It’s hard to describe,” she continued, squinting her eyes as though aiming for a moving target that refused to stay still. “I don’t know why, but it always begins with me…drowning. I’m ever so slowly sinking towards the bottom.” She closed her eyes for a second, trying to imagine the nightmare in her mind. “It’s very dark and murky, so I can’t see anything. I’m terrified out of my wits. I try to kick and swim my way back up to the surface, except someone, or rather something, has me by the ankles and won’t let go. I fight and struggle to free myself, but I can’t. It isn’t until my lungs give out that I finally look down and…” she stopped for a second.

“Go on,” Nanami coaxed gently, waiting in silence. He wasn’t going to force her to talk, if she didn’t want to.

“Eyes,” the seer said, own eyes flitting open. She took a much needed breath from the horrid memory. “Four glowing, scarlet eyes staring at me from the black. That’s it. That’s all I see. Then the vision pivots.”

“Pivots?”

Hannah took a sip of oolong before humming in agreement. “I’m shown a film reel of things. Places, I think. I can’t remember what they are, but there is one feature that stands out from all the rest.”

Nanami also took a sip of tea. “Like what?”

Hannah placed her teacup on the coffee table and used her fingers to “draw” an invisible picture for him. “A massive red o-torii, floating above a large body of water.”

The quarter Dane’s brow narrowed ever so slightly. He knew what place she was referring to.

“Itsukushima Shrine,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Hannah sighed. “Satoru showed me a picture of it when I told him. It’s the exact same gate. He then mentioned you were working on a secret case and that I should speak to you immediately.”

Well, it’s not so secret anymore, Nanami thought, holding his tongue. Now he understood why Satoru had been so adamant the two of them talk, but hell, what a pain in the ass. The white haired dolt could’ve explained all this on the phone, or typed a quick text, instead of wasting he and his wife’s time. Even though she was a lovely person, both inside and out. Reminded him a bit like Haibara; her kindness and selflessness towards others.

But a tad miffed by this new flux of information, Nanami rose from his leather chair, teacup in hand, and walked over to the large window overlooking Shibuya Crossing, the thousands of city nerdowells commuting below, crammed like sardines.

“In the last four weeks, a total of eighteen people have been reported missing from the shrine,” he said, staring monotonously out the apartment window. “Evidence suggests it’s curse related. I and a few other sorcerers have been called in to investigate the disturbance.”

“Then perhaps this is your lucky break,” Hannah added, hoping to shed some light on the subject.

The quasi-business man continued looking out the apartment, almost like he wasn’t listening (but of course he was). “Itsukushima Shrine is a popular tourist destination in Miyajima. We’ll be fighting heavy crowds if we search during the day. Curse activity tends to worsen at night, but then there’s high and low tide to contest with. Your presence might also be needed. Could get dangerous.” He was listing all the potential roadblocks ahead.

“Can’t we disperse the crowds at least?” was Hannah’s suggestion. “Close the shrine off to tourists?”

Nanami hummed deeply in thought. Things were never that simple. He at last turned away from the window. “You’re sure this is a vision?”

Hannah shrugged. “More sure than not.”

“And you think a Sukuna finger is hiding somewhere at the bottom of Hiroshima Bay?”

The seer frowned. She felt her confidence wane at his scrutiny. “It’s the only lead I have.”

Confined to his thoughts, Nanami walked back towards the coffee table, relinquishing his empty teacup and saucer, and plopped back down in the leather chair, hand in his chin. A disconcerted expression became him, though his eyes were fixed on the Royal Copenhagen. Hannah thought he looked far older than his real age said on paper. He was handsome, she decided, with golden blonde hair and mixed Scandinavian features, but in a battle-hardened, wise kind of way. Forever pensive and stoic, like he had crossed the river Styx and managed to survive the harrowing ordeal, but only just so. Even without the bloody cleaver knife in his hand from that night at the opera, she could tell he wasn’t much for taking days and nights off. Kento Nanami was certainly a man operating under a lot of stress.

“I can’t name anyone on the top of my head with a water curse technique,” he vexed tiredly, observing the porcelain tea set. “A diving team will have to be dispatched. Damn. It’s always a risk when we get non-sorcerers involved.”

“But maybe we won’t have to,” Hannah said, complexion brightening. “Because as it were, I know someone who might be able to help us. That is, if we can persuade her.”

Nanami’s hand fell to his lap, eyes raised. “Her?”

Hannah rested her teacup on the coffee table and hurriedly rummaged through her dress pocket for a folded piece of paper. She offered it to him.

“Her.”

Feeling pessimistic, Nanami took the paper and slowly opened it. His eyes landed on the contact’s name above, and thus the part-time jujutsu sorcerer’s face tensed into a shrewd scowl. He exhaled loudly through his nose.

A bowl of that rødgrød didn’t seem like such a bad fix all of a sudden.

Neither did some brandy.

Chapter Contents

#gojo takes a wife #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #gojo x oc #satoru gojo #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #satoru x oc #romance #gojo satoru

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