It's probably the sleep deprivation talking (I've been awake for 12+ hours) but I've got my Brain Babies on the brain and still can't be motivated to do fuck all with any of the concepts so I'm shouting them into the aether
Fenatë (Fen/Nat/"New Girl") sometimes has panic attacks when walking the City, due to not having experience with modern towering architecture. It's more a feeling of suffocation then genuine panic, since she can't see the horizon anymore like when she was on the ocean with her Dad.
Paloma doesn't particularly care for nicknames, mostly because people are lazy and just call her "Pal", to which she often has a sharp retort. The only exception is when her Dad calls her "Dove" or "Songbird", as she knows those are coming from a place of affection. None of this stops her from giving people nicknames in her phone contacts though. She still hasn't found anything better for Fen just yet.
Of all Fen's eccentricities, the most amusing in Paloma's eyes is that she'll occasionally forget how texting works, and instead of sending a quick reply will handwrite a letter in response. Paloma has so far kept every one of the letters she's received.
Paloma's Dad owns and operates a small but successful Coffee shop (Kaldi's) that also functions as a Bar at night. The two work there together alongside Elja and Alistera, who help run things during the different service periods. Elja works the Coffee crowd and Alistera the Bar.
The Boss man has a tendency to get pulled away to help out some associates for various lengths of time, so usually Paloma and Elja take these opportunities to hold All-Ages events at the shop like live music or what have you. Sometimes things can get rowdy, which is why Alistera sticks around to keep an eye on things.
Paloma used to be part of a band. She's still on good terms with them but only occasionally gets the urge to perform with them, though that doesn't stop them from talking her into getting on stage.
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"oh my god satoru you look so cute here!"
"wait wait wait, don't look at those!"
you were currently holding a picture of satoru in your hands. it's nothing you haven't done before, going to the corner store and flipping through recently printed pictures of you and your friends after waiting a week for them to develop.
but this time you weren't holding snapshots of suguru having permanent marker on his face while sleeping or ridiculous photos of satoru and shoko grabbing onto each others hair, fighting over who gets to get the last snack from their stash. this time you held a photo of satoru, except younger. exponentially younger. as in, you just got your hands on a photo of satoru the moment he was born. literally.
like every other newborn he had that faint pink shade on his soft skin, button nose, and little hands that had the chubbiest of fingers. you swore you fell in love all over again with him.
the grown up version of the baby however did not feel the same. he didn't think a visit to his family's prestigious estate would lead to you seeing the one photo he would rather die than having any one of his friends see. he'd rather have you take a photo of him falling flat on his face on a pile of garbage actually.
how you came across that photo of him, he has no idea. you both were currently residing in his old bedroom, laid down on the old tatami mats that still smelled new. all he remembers is you getting up to look for something within the old cabinets of his room before you exclaimed about your recent discovery.
"oh there's more, lemme see."
"nononononono, no! you've already seen enough!"
satoru tried desperately to snatch the small box of photos that was now on the floor. seriously who put this here?? — maybe his mother heard of how he was bringing you along for the weekend and planted a little surprise for you to find. he was unsuccessful, again, as you seemed to be faster than the strongest now since the box was now sitting on your lap — the stack of photos now in your hands as you flipped through them one by one.
"you used to wear such cute things too! look at that, it's a little onesie with a duck pattern!"
satoru was now internally screaming, his ears blowing out steam now from embarrassment. they must be, since he could feel his face rise in temperature faster than ever, he might even be a new shade of scarlet now. he's resorted now to lying face first on the floor, burying his face in his arms trying to shield himself from your commentary.
he didn't budge when you poked him with your fingers, trying to show him photos of his even younger self. satoru won't deny it, he was cute as a baby. the cutest even (his ego was whispering that) — but to have you witness him in all his newborn glory? that was too much for him. now his image was shattered (the one he created in his head), you won't look at him the same anymore. you'll only think the words cute and adorable, and so on after this. no more comments on how hot he was, how undeniably attractive his smile was.
satoru gojo, was indefinitely, ruined.
that was at least his way of thinking. you were internally dying on the inside.
to think that at such a young age, satoru still held the most striking pair of eyes you've ever seen. even as a baby you could see that he held the heavens and even the depths of hell in them. you can see why many people whispered how his birth had changed everything in the jujutsu world.
but even so, you couldn't bring yourself to care about those old rumors. right now, you were focusing on just how cute he used to look, back when he was just a couple of pounds and was drowning in innocence that any baby had.
"hey satoru?"
"..mm?", well at least you got a reaction.
"who took these photos anyway?"
you had to wait a few seconds until you heard him shuffle, moving on all fours before sitting up and placing himself right next to you. the embarrassment had died down, just a bit. there was still evident pink on his neck, ears, and cheeks.
"it was mostly just my mom and the maids. they were the ones who always dressed me up too."
that made you smile, the image of a fussy satoru not wanting to put baby gloves on with a matching outfit — it was too good not to imagine. a few moments passed before satoru carefully snatched a handful of photos from you. you were about to protest when he began telling you the story behind each of them, or well, the ones he could remember.
maybe you seeing him like that wasn't so bad after all.
p.s., now he's totally gonna send some of these to the group chat. bet he was a cuter looking baby than suguru and shoko anyway.
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