#i’d do it now but i just got back from all-you-can-eat sushi

[azufres]

got accepted into a math class (into two, actually). I will write a THANK YOUUU note to my professor tomorrow morning. and I won’t forget.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Comet Donati [Chapter 6: No Control]

Series Summary: Sex, drugs, boy bands. You are a kinda-therapist recruited (via nepotism) to help Comet Donati through a recent crisis. Things are casual with Aegon, very not-casual with Aemond. Loosely inspired by One Direction.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+), drugs, alcohol, smoking, mental health struggles, all-you-can-eat sushi, bodily injury, violence, hungry deer, Selena Gomez, angst!!!

Selected Chapter Quote: “He can’t see on that side, you fucking snake!”

Word count: 9k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: ​@doingfondue​ @catalina-howard​ @randomdragonfires​ @myspotofcraziness​ @arcielee​ @fan-goddess​ @talesofoldandnew​ @marvelescvpe​ @tinykryptonitewerewolf​ @mariahossain​ @chainsawsangel​ @darkenchantress​ @not-a-glad-gladiator​ @gemini-mama​ @trifoliumviridi​ @herfantasyworldd​ @babyblue711​ @namelesslosers​ @thelittleswanao3​ @daenysx​ @moonlightfoxx​ @libroparaiso​ @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics​ @mizfortuna​ @florent1s​ @heimtathurs​ @bhanclegane​ @poohxlove​ @narwhal-swimmingintheocean​ @heavenly1927​ @mariahossain​ @echos-muses​ @padfooteyes​ @minttea07​ @queenofshinigamis​ @juliavilu1​ @amiraisgoingthruit​ @lauraneedstochill​ @wintrr13​ @r0segard3n​ 

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Your last day waking up in Singapore: lying in bed and watching the shadows of birds shoot across the ceiling like falling stars. Your wrist aches in its splint. The door to the balcony is wide open. The wind blows in hot and damp off the South China Sea. You hear him before you see him: the swipe of a keycard, the swinging of the door, the clop clop clop of undoubtedly neon Crocs against the hardwood floor.

You look over at him, not moving from the bed. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Then Aegon notices something in the tiny trashcan beside your nightstand that’s cluttered with souvenirs. Nestled between empty soda cans and Starburst wrappers is a mostly full pack of birth control pills. He stares at it for a while before he says, tentatively: “Trying for a little bundle of joy? With anyone I know?”

“Definitely not.” You sigh, turning back to the ceiling, morose. “Baela and I did 23AndMe like a month ago, and we just got our results back. She’s distantly related to royalty. I have a defective gene that makes me extra susceptible to blood clots. So if I take hormonal birth control I could have a stroke or something.”

“Damn, that sucks,” Aegon says.

“Yeah.”

“But it’s good you found out, you know? I wouldn’t want you dropping over dead.”

“Yeah,” you say again, flatly, ungenerously.

“Hey, no big deal, Stargirl. You know I’d use condoms anyway.”

“Well I might at some point in my life want to have sex with someone who’s not you, so.”

Aegon steps closer; he appears upside down as he studies you from above, sunburned forehead knit into thoughtful grooves, smelling like Tiger Beer and Axe body spray and…you think…chicken wings. His hair is in disarray, his aviator sunglasses tangled in blond knots. He’s wearing a lavender tank top, like dusk, like a bruise. “Ohhhh, I get it. This is an Aemond and Shelby thing.”

You hate that you’re so transparent, like a window wiped clean of fog and fingerprints. You hate that he’s right. “Why are they even together? What the hell do they have in common?”

“Now or before?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Well, before…” Aegon scratches at his cheek. There is a bug bite there, a tiny pink welt left by the venom of a mosquito or a spider. “It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Aemond got the satisfaction of boning the kind of girl who would have screamed if he touched her back in high school. Shelby got a massive career boost. She had 900,000 Instagram followers when they met. Now she has over 20 million.”

That recurring, futile refrain: I hate her, I hate her, I hate her.

“And I won’t lie. They had some good times.” Aegon grins down at you. “Just like we did.”

“What about now?”

“Now…” Aegon ponders this. “Now I think they’re both lost. Neither of them knows what comes next. Aemond leaving Comet. Shelby hitting that age when people like her start checking off the husband and kids boxes. When you’re thrown off a ship, you cling to the life raft, even if it’s small or ripped up or half-deflated or whatever, right? You try to hold on to what you have left. You return to what’s familiar. And that doesn’t make it right, but it’s what people do.”

“It is,” you agree mournfully. “So Aemond was the one who broke it off.”

“Yeah.”

“And then he took her back.” She called and called and called, he finally answered.

“He had a moment of weakness. Now we all have to live with it.”

“I didn’t know that.” Then you sit up on the bed and look at Aegon. “When the label wanted to get rid of Aemond, why didn’t you fight for him?”

“That’s just the way of the world, Stargirl.” He shrugs, an inevitability, good weather, bad weather, sun and clouds and storms. “He couldn’t stay in the band the way he is now. And the problem isn’t what he looks like. The problem is in his soul. But I have no idea how to fix it.” Aegon smiles, warm like summer. “I thought maybe you would. That’s why I called you.”

“You didn’t even know me,” you tell him. “I was just some girl from a bar.”

“No,” Aegon says softly, and he does not elaborate. And then, bright and cheerful again: “You’re really going to earn your paycheck at our next stop.”

“Where are we going?” You recall the names you’ve heard bouncing around since Comet arrived in East Asia, the cities you’ve seen on banners and t-shirts and Instagram posts. “Bangkok? Kuala Lumpur? Manila? Jakarta? Seoul?”

“Tokyo.” Aegon is still smiling, though in an off-kilter way now, uneasily, his murky ocean-blue eyes somber. The scene of the crime. Where the accident happened. Where Aemond believes his life ended. “We’re performing at the Budokan.”

~~~~~~~~~~

White clouds turn to sapphire waves, then emerald green fields and forests, then buildings in a million different shades of grey that stretch on forever, steel and concrete and asphalt and glass. Tokyo is the largest city you’ve ever seen, the largest city imaginable. It is a labyrinth that makes you think of the hay mazes that farms back home set up each autumn; it beckons you in and then dares you to leave.

As the band hurries through Haneda Airport, you are pursued by paparazzi and hyperventilating fans. The usual suspects—Aegon, Daeron, and Jace—can be relied upon to high five, smile, flash peace signs and hand hearts, blow kisses, pass out crochet astronomical objects, and shout such endearments as (woefully mispronounced) “Konnichiwa!” and “We love you, Japan!” Shelby waves like she’s goddamn Princess Diana. Aemond bows his head, his eyes enigmatic behind his sunglasses, his steps swift. Luke holds Rhaena’s hand; Baela walks with them. You hide behind Cregan. He casts quite a large shadow.

“I look real rock and roll now,” you joke, gesturing with your splinted arm.

Cregan replies in his rumbly subterranean voice: “I think I have you beat.” He pulls up one of his sleeves—floral print, silk, Valentino—and shows you the underside of his right forearm. Bisecting the flesh from his wrist to the crook of his elbow is a long, faint, moon-white scar that you’ve never noticed before, never even heard anyone mention.

“Oh, ouch! You broke it?”

“Compound fracture.” He covers his forearm again with his sleeve.

“When? How?”

Cregan hesitates. Suddenly, he no longer wants to be having this conversation. “Years ago.”

Just outside the airport waits that trusty fleet of black, tinted-window Escalades; but Aemond has requested that his 1960 Gold Star be there too. He takes his keys, helmet, and jacket from one of Comet’s hulking security guards. Shelby’s detail is notably more subdued since that night in Singapore; the man who dislocated your wrist has been exiled from the tour. Aemond climbs onto his motorcycle and starts the engine. The sound takes you back to Rome: when your hopes and spirits were high, when you and Aemond were still living on the light side of the moon.

“You in the mood for a ride, Shelby?” Aegon asks, smirking unkindly, taunting, chomping loudly on cotton candy flavored Bubble Yum. “Don’t forget your helmet. We’d all be lost without you.”

Shelby combs out her beachy blond waves with her artful fingers, tan, reedy, nails turquoise and adorned with golden koi fish. “You’re psychotic if you think I’m getting on that bike.”

“Jesus,” Jace mutters. He is as shocked as anyone by his abrupt demotion to only the second most villainous person in Comet’s retinue.

Aemond doesn’t react, doesn’t say anything to Shelby, doesn’t even look at her. But he does glance over at you. And the words rise in your throat like a burning sun at dawn: I’ll go, I’d love to go, I trust you, I want you. But before you can say anything, Aemond has knocked the kickstand out of the way and is weaving through thick afternoon traffic towards the Mandarin Oriental Hotel. And as the Escalades roll and the band chats around you—indistinctly, abstractedly—you keep staring out the window and searching for glimpses of Aemond like the rare flash of a meteor in a city sky; but you can’t find him.

Criston knows he’s brought Comet to dangerous ground, peppered with quagmires and landmines. So he has planned a ruthlessly hectic itinerary. As soon as you’ve received your room key and unpacked, it’s time for dinner at an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant down the street. Criston herds the band there like the rugged Australian cattle dogs that your parents have back in Kansas City nip at the heels of snorting, intractable Black Angus bulls. You sit between Baela and Aegon, who is wearing his neon green tank top, matching Crocs (per usual), and khaki cargo shorts. He’s also gulping sake bombs until they dribble down his sunburned face. Countless varieties of sushi and side dishes rotate by on a conveyer belt, colorful little plates waiting to be snatched up: salmon, tuna, eel, octopus, shrimp, miniature omelets, fried tofu, Wagyu beef, squid, yellowtail, veggie rolls, chicken and pork dumplings, seaweed salad.

“You okay over there?” Aegon asks, grinning as he watches you stab at your eel sushi, topped with some kind of mayo-like sauce and delicious but tragically challenging to eat.

“I didn’t know how to use chopsticks before my dominant hand was put out of commission.” You glare down the row at Shelby. She glowers back. Since that night in Singapore, you circle each other like snarling undomesticated animals, wolves or coyotes. Now you’re on her radar. Now she knows there is something—that mysterious, ever-shifting, worrying something—between you and Aemond. She just doesn’t know what it is. Neither do you, neither does he, neither does anyone.

“Want me to feed you?” Aegon slurs flirtatiously. He plucks up a piece of your eel sushi with his chopsticks and promptly drops it in your lap. “Oh. Fuck.”

Baela presses the button on the counter to summon the server. “I’ll get you a fork.”

“You are a saint,” you tell her. “Patron saint of initiative. Or drive, whichever you prefer the sound of.” Aegon is mayhem, Aemond is lost causes. What am I?

“And you are an uncultured hick from Kansas.”

You smile at her. “Missouri.”

Your fork soon arrives. A few seats down the row, you hear Shelby ask innocently, like it doesn’t mean anything: “How old is Louis Tomlinson’s son now?”

Aemond shrugs. He’s watching the conveyor belt for vegan options; he keeps missing them when they pass by. “I don’t know, five?”

“No, Freddie?!” Luke says. “He’s gotta be like seven now. We saw him last summer at Niall’s pool party.”

“He was so cute,” Shelby says. She’s sitting on Aemond’s good side, as always. She rubs his back and you fight the urge to break her fingers one by one, snapping them in half like dry autumn twigs, lifeless and hollow. “Wasn’t he cute, honeybunch?”

“Sure,” Aemond replies distractedly. And of course Shelby is the type of person who believes that becoming a father will heal a man, rather than just dooming his children to be collateral damage.

Aegon peeks over the conveyer belt at the chefs who are preparing plates in the middle. He lurches and wobbles. Criston covers his own face with his hands, mortified. “Hey, hey, can I get a Crab Rangoon please?”

A chef says something in Japanese, soft and polite but clearly imploring him to sit back down.

Aegon repeats slowly: “Crab! Rangooooooon!”

“Hey dumbass,” Jace says. “That’s Chinese. We’re in Japan.”

“Oh. Right.” Aegon sighs, retreats, and orders himself another sake bomb.

You grab a plate of veggie rolls and another of fried tofu sushi off the conveyer belt and pass them down the row to Aemond. Shelby sends you the most venomous of glares, but Aemond mouths when she’s not paying attention: Thank you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two shows in Tokyo, two performances on the stage where Aemond was mutilated. Of course, you don’t see mutilation when you look at him. You never have. You see the way the light hits the angles of his jaw and nose and cheekbones and think of marble faces in museums, generals, kings, saints, angels. You see the crystalline blue of his right eye and think of rivers, cool and rushing and clean. You see the ethereal haze of his left eye and think of other planets. You don’t know why everyone else reads his scar and blindness as a tale of unspeakable ruin. You can’t imagine seeing Aemond that way. It would be easier, less painful, simpler for you if you could. Maybe you could stop wanting him. Maybe you could stop dreaming about him, wisps of longing and memory that escape you as soon as you wake.

Aemond does not attend Comet’s concerts at the Budokan. They’re the only ones you’ve ever known him to miss. He rides out on his Gold Star instead, and then reappears to join the band for their post-show ritual in Jace’s suite, grim and quiet and scribbling in his black-paged notebook, smoking his cigarettes, sipping his Brambles. You cannot blame Aemond. You weren’t here last December when a piece of rigging collapsed during soundcheck and nearly killed him, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it; you can’t stop yourself from glancing up at the rafters during shows, wondering exactly how it happened, picturing Aemond bloody and unconscious on the stage, half-blinded and robbed without knowing it yet.

Tomorrow night is Comet Donati’s final performance in Tokyo, but today Criston has a day trip planned. He has filled every spare second of this tour stop with distractions. The band travels by bullet train (or shinkansen) and then local railways to Nara, the city that served as Japan’s capital in the 700s. Criston hires a tour guide—an 80-year old man called Toru-san, who possesses an incalculable amount of knowledge and also a very, very thick accent—to lead you all around Nara Park to see Isuien Garden, the Kasuga Taisha Shrine, the Nara National Museum, and finally the Great Buddha. Nara Park is full of food and souvenir vendors, as well as 1,200 sika deer that you can pet and feed, albeit at risk of being trampled by overenthusiastic herbivores. There are signs posted with warnings to exercise caution, complete with cartoon illustrations of deer gone rogue.

It’s 95 degrees outside with 80% humidity. You are drenched with sweat and guzzling boba tea. The handle of your bag from a gift shop is slung over your splint. Toru-san, despite his long pants and cardigan sweater, is looking spry as ever and is deep in conversation with Luke and Rhaena; he is regaling them with a bottomless well of Nara trivia. Cregan and Daeron are still browsing through gift shops, mostly for the opportunity to escape the heat and hover, sighing with relief, in front of every electric fan they come across. Aegon, lobster-level red—you aren’t sure if he’s more sunburned or flushed—is snoring under a tree as deer nibble at his cyan tank top and white cargo shorts. Aemond purchased probably $200 worth of deer crackers and has attracted a sizeable crowd of furry new friends. He’s like he always is around animals: beaming, immersed, at peace. Shelby is capturing pictures and video clips of him from a distance.

Nearby where you stand under the shade of a black pine tree, Baela is dressed in a crop top and yoga pants and stretching in the middle of a patch of grass. She keeps having to stop to shove deer away from her as they tiptoe close, searching for snacks. Jace is using Google Translate to flirt with a crowd of Japanese fangirls who have recognized him. They are giggling so loudly you can hear them from across a field. Baela is trying to ignore this. She falls out of a pose and sighs irritably, then walks over to you. Together, you watch Jace for a while, you slurping on your boba tea, Baela frowning with her hands on her willowy waist.

At last, she says: “Sometimes we love people who we know don’t deserve it. But that doesn’t make us love them any less. We just hate ourselves for not being stronger.”

“I think you’re incredibly strong, Baela.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. Strong enough to leave him. Strong enough to begin living your own life again.”

Her expression is suddenly uncharacteristically vulnerable, fearful. “I don’t know if I can do it. I’ve never been an adult without him.”

“You’d figure it out. And you wouldn’t be alone. You’d have Rhaena, and Luke, and ballet, and all your friends and family—”

“And you too, right?” she asks. “You’ll still be my friend? Even after you go back home?”

You are stunned into a silence that Baela first mistakes for rejection. Her face falls. “No no no, I’m not hesitating, you just caught me by surprise. Of course I’ll still be your friend after the tour is over. I’ll be your friend forever.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“And you’ll visit me in prison if I snap one day and throw Jace into a meatgrinder?”

You laugh and hug her, your sweat dampening each other’s clothes: her orange crop top, your Backstreet Boys t-shirt. “Absolutely. For sure.”

“Okay. I gotta go practice some more.” She spends long hours down in the hotel gym while everyone else is sleeping or partying or preparing for shows, running and stretching and yoga and repeating the same dance routines over and over again. You applaud and whistle as she leaves. “Stop,” Baela complains, but she’s grinning.

You procure another boba tea. You find a nice shady spot on a bench. You check your phone; there’s maybe fifteen more minutes until the band is scheduled to leave for the train station to begin the journey back to Tokyo. Naturally, Criston has dinner already planned: kaiseki ryori, a traditional multi-course meal. You wonder if there will be vegan options for Aemond. Your eyes drift back to him. They always seem to. He’s dragging his palm down the face of a ten-point buck as he feeds him a crumbling brown cracker. There’s a fawn curled up in Aemond’s lap. His blond hair is slicked back off his forehead, his black shirt mostly unbuttoned. Sweat gleams on his chest. Your fingertips ache to draw sloping lines and lazy circles in it.

“I never worried about him,” Criston says. He’s appeared beside you, arms crossed guardedly. You move over so there’s room for Criston on the bench. He sits, distant and troubled. “I always worried about the others. Aegon and Jace especially. But not Aemond.”

“Because he never needed you,” you say quietly.

“He didn’t,” Criston agrees. “And so I wasn’t there to protect him that day.”

The day of the accident. “From what I understand, it wasn’t something you could have prevented.”

“No, I couldn’t have stopped that piece of rigging from falling. But I could have made it so he wasn’t standing under it.”

You wait for Criston to explain. That’s an element that people often underestimate: the power of waiting for someone to be ready.

“It was soundcheck,” Criston says. His voice is strained, hushed. He repeatedly touches the stubble of his beard, a nervous habit. “Aemond was on time, as always. Aemond was exactly where he was supposed to be. But no one else was. Aegon and Jace had gone off to a strip club or a burlesque show or something, I don’t remember. They came back to the hotel and were absolutely hammered, they were crawling around on the hallway floor and puking in corners, laughing hysterically, completely out of their minds. Cregan and Luke were there trying to get them cleaned up. I was on the phone with Cregan, he was pissed, probably the most angry I’ve ever heard him, he kept pausing to yell at Aegon. He’d dragged him into a cold shower, but Aegon was fighting, trying to bite and kick him and whatever the hell else. So eventually I decided to go to the hotel and deal with it. Aemond offered to go with me. I told him no, you stay here, I’ll bring the other four even if I have to get the security guys to toss Aegon and Jace over their shoulders and carry them. Then I left.”

“And that’s when it happened,” you realize. “While you were gone.”

“Yes,” Criston says. And he gazes across Nara Park, here in body but his mind trapped in the maze of the past.

“You had no way of knowing what would happen, Criston. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I should have told him to come with me back to the hotel. Or I should have stopped Aegon and Jace from getting wasted. If they’d been on time, if soundcheck had happened as scheduled, no one would have been standing where that piece of rigging fell. Aemond would still be the leader of Comet. He would still have his face, his sight, his life.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you say again.

“Alicent blames me,” he confesses. And you only know who she is because you’ve asked Aegon: the wife of Viserys Targaryen, the mother of his three sons. “She’ll never forgive me.”

Is that really why she avoids you, Criston? Or is there another reason? “If that’s true, it’s only because she’s feeling a lot of horrible things—grief, pain, regret, guilt—and she’s directing them at you. You haven’t earned them. You’re just the person standing in the line of fire. They’re a reflection of Alicent’s inner turmoil, not of your own worth. I think you’ve done a phenomenal job trying to keep this band safe and happy. And I know it’s not easy. I know it’s damn near impossible.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, looking at you with large, dark, truthful eyes like a dog’s.

And you imagine a world in which you’d never seen Aegon after that night in Kansas City, never met Aemond, Baela, Rhaena, Luke, Cregan, Daeron, Criston. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

Criston reaches over and—for a moment, so briefly you could have imagined it—rests his hand on your shoulder like he sometimes does to Aemond and Luke. Then he leaves to collect Cregan and Daeron from a shaved ice vendor. Shelby has strolled over to consult with Toru-san, presumably so she can add his trivia to her Instagram posts and TikTok videos. You go to Aemond.

“I have a confession to make,” he says solemnly as you approach.

The oxygen vanishes from your lungs; you try to hide this. “What is it?”

Aemond smiles up at you. “When the tour guide was leading us here, I thought he kept saying that the park was full of bears. And I didn’t want to kill the mood or anything, but I was definitely concerned about going on a field trip to feed over 1,000 uncaged bears. I am very, very relieved that he was in fact saying deer.”

You chuckle and sit next to Aemond on the grass, petting the fawn in his lap. It blinks sleepily at you, its fur soft and spotted, its ears pricked up and curious.

“What’s your souvenir for this stop of the tour?” Aemond asks.

You pull it out of your bag to show him: a small stuffed sika deer complete with floppy felt antlers. “Isn’t it adorable?”

“It is,” he says. “Are you going to have room for all these keepsakes in your apartment back home?”

“Already fantasizing about me leaving, huh?”

“No,” Aemond says, seriously now. Deadly serious. “No, I’m not.” And then Criston is shouting through cupped hands for everybody to huddle up so you can all head to the train station.

It’s not until the band is trekking out of Nara Park towards the blissful promise of air conditioning that you realize someone is missing. When you look around, you see Criston, Aemond, Shelby, Aegon (rubbing his eyes and yawning), Baela, Jace, Rhaena, Luke, Cregan, and a smattering of security guards dressed in black.

“Wait,” you say. “Where’s Daeron?”

A chorus of confusion: “What?” Huh?” “He’s not here?” At last, Criston spies him sitting alone on a wooden park bench, glumly eating through his mountain of shaved ice.

“What the hell is he doing?!” Jace says impatiently, swiping perspiration from his forehead.

Aegon massages your shoulders. “I think this might call for your particular area of expertise, Stargirl.” And when Aemond’s eye flicks to Aegon fleetingly, resentfully, you think for the first time: And where were you, Aegon, when Aemond was waiting all those months ago? Whoring, drinking, self-destructing in ways that take other people down with you? Then you leave him.

Through the heat that lays thick over the city like a tangle of vines, you trudge to the bench where the youngest Targaryen brother is lingering. “Daeron? What’s wrong?”

He stares gloomily down into his shaved ice: blood-colored, strawberry, ichigo. “Everyone thinks I’m always joking and optimistic, but I’m not.”

You ask gently: “What are you really, Daeron?”

“I don’t know what to be. That’s the problem. I worry about it all the time. I can’t win. If I’m sad, then I’m ungrateful for this tremendous opportunity. But if I’m happy, it’s like I’m dancing on Aemond’s grave.”

“He’s not dead, Daeron,” you say.

“Well, yeah, obviously.”

“But a lot of the time people talk about him like he is. You speak around him, over him, through him. Do you think he doesn’t notice?” Do you think he can’t feel the weight of that dark gravity that roots him to the earth? Do you think he can disentangle who he is from the wreckage that has buried its shrapnel in his bones?

Daeron isn’t insulted by what you’ve said. Instead, he seems fascinated. He seems grateful, like you’ve sat down to help him with an especially baffling puzzle. “What would he want from us, do you think?”

“I think he wants to know that his time in Comet wasn’t wasted. That even if he leaves, he will still be a part of this family. I think he wants to be acknowledged. He doesn’t want pity or awkward silences, he doesn’t want to pretend that the accident never happened. He wants to know that his life will go on in spite of it.”

Daeron ruminates on this, taking a bite of his towering mound of shaved ice. “If I said something about him at the last Tokyo show tomorrow, do you think he’d mind? I’ve had this idea for a while, but I didn’t know how he’d take it.”

“That depends on what you say.”

Daeron asks, peering up at you with large pale eyes: more translucent than Aegon’s, more harmless than Aemond’s. He has been shown more kindness than either of them; he is perhaps less deep, less singularly brilliant, but also less burdened. It is a trade many would happily agree to. It is a trade they would pay for in blood. “What should I say?”

You smile at Daeron. “The truth.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“I’d like to take a moment to share something with all of you,” Daeron says into his microphone as soon as Comet finishes The Worst Way To Be. The audience lowers their cheers to a reverent, intensely attentive murmur.

“Wait, what?” Baela whispers to you and Rhaena as you stand in the front row. Shelby, who had been looking rather bored, whips out her phone and begins a live stream. Aegon, Jace, Luke, and Cregan are upbeat and beaming—as is expected of them, as is required—but they pass each other nervous glances like folded paper notes in a high school classroom. This is not in the script.

“I just want to say thank you,” Daeron continues. His voice reverberates off the walls of the Budokan. “Thank you to all of you guys, of course. Our amazing, incredible fans. Thank you for letting us live this dream of a life.” There are claps and whistles, shrieked declarations of undying adoration. Daeron takes a deep breath. His hands are shaking; you can see the microphone tremble. “And thank you to my big brother Aemond.” Instantaneously, the crowd goes as close to silent as it is possible for a stadium at max capacity to be. The others are gawking at him openly now, unable to paper over it with masklike smiles. “I had been following Comet around for years before I got the offer to officially join. So I know how much work and talent Aemond poured into this band. I’m beyond honored to be up on this stage tonight performing for all of you, but I wish it could have happened a different way. I wish Aemond could be here too. And no matter where he goes in the world or what he does next, he will always be the person who made Comet Donati possible. And he will always be my greatest inspiration. I love you, man. We all love you.”

And the audience erupts into deafening cheers and applause, all for a soul who could not bring himself to attend the show. There are chants of We love you, Aemond! that go on for more than five minutes. Aegon is shouting as loudly as anyone; Jace, Luke, and Cregan are running around the stage and encouraging the crowd. They are a little shellshocked, but they are genuine.

Even Jace, you think, you marvel. Even Jace is honoring him. He doesn’t hate Aemond after all. He provokes and he taunts, sure, and he crosses lines on occasion, but Jace doesn’t hate Aemond. He might even miss him.

For their last night in Tokyo, Criston has grander aspirations for the band than the usual wind down in Jace’s suite. He gets everyone—Aemond included, fetched from the bar of the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, already several Brambles deep—into the Escalades to drive to Club Camelot, where Criston has reserved one of the three floors for Comet. It swiftly fills like a flute of champagne: women in sparkling gowns, men with baiting smiles, security guards and label executives and friends and acquaintances and models. The tiles on the floor are black and white, but bathed in sapphire luminescence that covers everyone like rain. Empty hands are filled with frosty bottles and glasses clinking with ice. The song that thunders out of the speakers is a throwback: Butterfly by Crazy Town.

Cregan has acquired a harem of sorts; you look once and he’s flocked by three gazelle-like companions, you look again and there are five of them. Jace is mingling freely. Aemond is talking to Daeron—thanking him, it appears, offering heartfelt gratitude—while Shelby greets a pack of influencer-types as they arrive. They squeal and jump up and down with her in their clicking stilettos, then take turns snapping each other’s pictures. Criston actually appears to be somewhat relaxed. He sips on a Sapporo Premium and chats with one of the guys from the label, gesturing casually with his expressive hands. Aegon is curled up in a booth with Selena Gomez. Yes, Selena freaking Gomez. He keeps playing with her glossy dark tresses and making her giggle, propping his sunburned face up on his knuckles, glowing in that way that he does. It’s not just for you. It’s never been just for you. And sometimes he’s close to you and sometimes he’s not, and right now he’s on the other side of the solar system, he’s out in the Oort cloud, he’ll be back to visit earth in a few hundred years. Aegon disappears into the bathroom every few minutes. You see smudges of white powder on his hands, under his nose. If he tried to talk to you right now, you wouldn’t know what to say to him. He would feel like a stranger.

You’re watching Aemond. You wish you weren’t, but you are. He’s in all black, the top three buttons of his shirt undone. You nurse a Bramble and follow Baela, Rhaena, and Luke around the dancefloor, barely able to hear them over the music. Luke is lightheartedly making fun of Baela for something. Her earrings? Her shoes?

“I’ll have you know that I’m very important around here!” Baela cries over the music. “I’m the patron saint of drive!”

“Patron saint of driving herself to the Gucci store, maybe,” Luke says.

They’re all laughing. You feel like you’re observing them through a transparent wall, like you’re at the aquarium and they’re a dazzling rare species and you’re some grubby kid with your palms pressed to the glass. What am I still doing here? Why did I ever think I belonged here?

You break away from Baela, Rhaena, and Luke and drift by Shelby and her fellow influencers, not intending to eavesdrop but catching a few fragments of their conversation like Jupiter and Saturn capture moons. As Aemond talks to Daeron across the room, Shelby is lamenting her love life. She thinks she’s being discrete, but she’s had more than a few gin and tonics.

“No, he still…he probably doesn’t want me looking at him…he’ll let me blow him, but he won’t actually…you know…?”

And you remember what you told him on that balcony in Reykjavik: I think you haven’t fucked anyone since the accident, and you’re terrified to.

You were right. You’re still right. And here you are, like mirrors: Aemond not fucking Shelby, you not fucking Aegon, and there’s no especially good reason for either except that it just doesn’t feel right. After a while, Shelby and her entourage leave to check out another nightclub down the block. More photo opportunities, you suspect. A change of scenery.

“How’s your wrist?” Jace inquires. He’s found you loitering on the outskirts of the dancefloor. He’s wearing a black sequined blazer with nothing underneath except skin and ink. He’s unsteady on his feet, a Vesper sloshing in his glass. Now the song that’s playing is Ed Sheeran’s I Don’t Care, featuring Justin Bieber. In the booth she’s sharing with Aegon, Selena Gomez audibly groans.

“Great. It actually feels better when no one talks to me.”

Jace cackles, far too loudly. “You are hilarious. Hey, hey, listen.” His free hand skates around your waist. Instinctively, you jolt away from him.

“Nope.”

“Listen.” He grips you more adamantly. “Let’s do this.”

“No, no, that’s a very kind offer but I’d rather chew off my own limbs, thank you.”

“Look, I don’t care if you’ve hooked up with Aegon,” Jace purrs into your ear, sweating out vodka and gin, his curls brushing against your cheek. “Hell, I don’t care if you’re still hooking up with Aegon. I’m better than him. I have to be, right? That fat drunk. I’ll show you.”

You try to pull away from him again. You’re wearing the short sparkly dress you bought in Reykjavik, black velvet and silver stars. “Jace, don’t touch me.”

“Come on, Stargirl, give me a shot—”

“Jace,” you say harshly, your eyes blazing. “Do not touch me.”

“Okay,” he sighs; and, to his credit, he releases you. He holds up his palm in surrender. “Okay, fine, but when you change your mind—”

Aemond soars in out of nowhere, a comet, a meteor, the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs. His fist connects with Jace’s jaw. Jace’s Vesper goes flying; blood spurts from his mouth, split lips and lost teeth. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” Aemond is roaring. He has Jace pinned to the floor, black and white and sapphire and red. “When she says not to touch her, you don’t, you hear me?!”

People are screaming and descending upon them, trying to pull them apart. Your Bramble shatters against the tile floor. Criston is here, and security guards, and Baela and Rhaena and Luke and Aegon. Everyone is talking at the same time, so it’s almost like no one is. Jace is striking at Aemond from the ground. Aemond hits him again, and again, knuckles into defenseless flesh and bone, blood vessels bursting, nerves on fire. The music stops, the lights come on.

“Aemond, stop!” you shout. “Aemond, Aemond, you’re going to kill him!”

“Let him go, Aemond, please!” Baela is yelling, and there’s raw terror in her voice.

Then Jace lands a solid punch at last, a hook that comes in from Aemond’s left. Blood pours from Aemond’s nose, it’s on his face and his throat, it’s running down his chest. Cregan arrives, locks his arms around Aemond’s waist, and heaves him away. Before Jace has a second to recover, Aegon wrenches him up by the collar of his blazer and slaps him open-handed across the face.

“He can’t see on that side, you fucking snake!”

Criston bellows: “Aegon, back up, back up, back the fuck up!” He finally gets a good look at Jace: bleeding, bruised, teeth missing, blinking dazedly at the spectators, too stunned to feel the pain yet. “Oh my God!” Criston whirls to Aemond, who is struggling against Cregan’s grasp. “How’s he going to perform in five days, huh?! Jesus Christ, he looks like he’s been butchered! How am I going to cover that up?! How is he going to sing?!” Criston pulls Jace to his feet; he practically has to carry him. Baela follows after them, more distressed than you’ve ever seen her, flowing tears and strangled sobs. Rhaena and Luke go too.

You, Aegon, and Daeron rush to Aemond. He’s bent over and spitting blood onto the floor so he doesn’t choke on it. “Not broken,” Cregan pronounces after examining his nose. “Just gonna bleed real bad. Needs pressure on it.”

“Are you okay?” Aegon asks you, a hand careful and tender on your face. He’s back again, for a minute, an hour, a day.

Your voice quakes. “Yeah.”

“What did Jace do…?”

“Nothing, nothing that bad, I mean he grabbed my waist but—”

“Aegon?” Selena Gomez says tentatively, waiting nearby and hugging her arms around herself.

“Yeah, one second, love. Give me a second.” He appraises Aemond and whistles. “Man, you are wrecked.” And not just physically. He’s incensed, he’s in shock. You reach for Aemond’s hand and he lets you take it.

“You got him?” Cregan asks you.

“I’ll clean him up. I’ll take care of him.” And as blood continues to run down his face, you draw Aemond towards the bathrooms. You lead him inside the women’s room and lock the door, blue walls and white florescent light. Somewhat ungainly—relying mostly upon your non-dominant hand—you press a pile of paper towels against his nose and tell him to hold it there. Then you wet more paper towels and wipe down his knuckles, his face, his throat. The blood on his chest has run beneath his glossy black shirt. We match, you think randomly. “Can I…?”

He yanks the shirt over his head, then returns the mass of crimson-stained paper towels to his nose. Fortunately, the bleeding appears to be slowing. You erase the smudged trail of scarlet that runs all the way to the waistline of his dark jeans. When you reach the end of it, Aemond flinches away from you; not a pained flinch, but a fearful one. He turns his back on you and walks to the other end of the small and shadowless room. He braces one palm against the wall and sighs deeply. He throws the wad of paper towels in the trashcan and then covers his face with his hand, shaking his head.

“Aemond,” you say. And you wait for him to look you in the eye. It takes a long time. “What do you want?” Why were you watching me and Jace? Why did you lose control?

“Nothing,” he replies immediately.

“That’s a lie.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” you insist, your voice fracturing. “It does matter. Just tell me what you want.”

“Why, so you can let me down easy? Or worse, pretend to be into it to make me feel better, to help piece me and my fragile little ego back together? I don’t beg for anything. You really think I’m going to beg you to want me?”

“No, you’re too fucking proud, you’d never even ask for it. You’ll beat people half to death for things you’re too much of a coward to say out loud, and I’m supposed to feel sorry for you?!”

“Then why are you even in here with me?! Just go back to Aegon, I know that’s what you want. I guess you’ll have to wait in line behind Selena Gomez, but he’ll work his way back around to you eventually.”

“Jace stole something from you, right?” you say. “You feel like he stole the band from you after you were kicked out, and then tonight you felt like he was stealing something else, and that’s why you freaked out and almost murdered him—”

“No. No, because you’re not mine.”

“What do you want, Aemond?” you ask him again, tears of exhaustion and desperation in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from you,” he says, coming in closer. “So you’re absolved, you’re free to go, I don’t need your goddamn charity—”

Your good hand juts out, and what you plan to do is plant it against his bare chest and push him away. What you do instead—as if by muscle memory, a reflex, an instinct—is reach up to plunge your fingers into his hair. And then his palm is cradling the small of your back and his lips are on yours, moving seamlessly like how currents thread through the ocean. He helps lift you up onto the counter; there is just enough room between two of the sinks. Your legs link around Aemond as he presses himself to you, lips still tinged with coppery blood, bare chest, his waist, his hips. Your back hits the mirror—cool and unyielding, the ink of his lyrics flat against the glass—with enough force to make a thump.

“Are you okay—?”

“I’m more okay than I’ve been in years.”

He tilts up your chin and kisses you deeply, dizzyingly, his tongue darting between your lips. He tastes like his Brambles, sweetness cut with the bite of gin, and smoke, and something else too, something that’s just purely him, something you could drown in like the river of his clear right eye. Gently, you bring your fingertips to his face, to his scar. “Don’t,” he pleads softly, pained.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Don’t—”

“Aemond, look at me.” And you hold his face still so you know he hears you. “There’s nothing wrong with you. There has never been anything wrong with you.”

You watch it hit him like a stone into water, ripples that wash away everything he’s felt before. He knows you mean it, he can feel it, the same way you can feel the care with which he caresses you, not just lust but engulfing warmth, wordless veneration. He whispers between kisses: “Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want.”

Your lock your gaze with his, then reach down to unbutton his jeans. It’s difficult with the splint, but you manage. You think he might stop you, you prepare yourself for it, but he doesn’t. Instead, Aemond’s hands vanish beneath your dress and slip off your panties, black lace you hadn’t planned on anyone seeing tonight. As you kiss his face—jagged scar, flushed cheek, the slope of his jaw—his fingers slide into a pool of staggering heat and wetness.

He moans. “Oh fuck, that’s for me?”

“I’ve wanted this from the start.”

“Show me…show me how you like it…”

You guide his hand to exactly the right spot and give him a rhythm, a pressure, a pace that rolls a euphoric shudder down your spine. He’s barely touched you, and already you’re shaking all over; you’re throbbing, you’re dazed with that delicious needful aching, you’re gasping into the sweltering, salt-strewn dampness of his neck. His fingertips stroke you in commanding circles—only a few times—until you’re on the precipice, until you stop him. You’re ready, even though he’s huge: long and thick, revealed as he tugs down his jeans and boxers. He pins your uninjured hand against the mirror and kisses and bites at your throat as he eases himself inside you: a stretching that is intense but not unpleasant, hunger being satisfied. And when he thrusts—carefully at first, waiting for you to tell him he can be rougher—there are so many layers of pleasure that it stuns you, it leaves you speechless. Has it ever been like this before? Never, never, never, not once, not for a moment, not with anybody. His future was stolen from him, but he’s taken your past from you; he’s carved it out like a gemstone from the earth and locked it away in a vault no one remembers the passcode to.

“I’m so close,” you whisper, you beg. “Aemond, please, please, I want to come for you…” And you gasp as his fingers skim down your belly again, stroking you forcefully as his thrusts become deeper, quicker, impossibly powerful.

His voice is low and murmuring. His scent is everywhere; it’s all you know how to breathe. “You okay, baby? You alright?”

“Yes, yes, oh God, Aemond, don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

“I won’t stop, baby. You’re doing so well, you’re almost there.”

“Aemond…yes…I love this…”

“I love you.”

He what…? He WHAT…??

And it doesn’t just drag you over the edge; it pushes you, it propels you, you go plummeting off the cliffside and freefall for miles. There’s no disguising it. You have to bury your face in his chest to keep from crying out, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving indents like crescent moons. Aemond, fighting his own climax viciously, lasts just long enough to fuck you through the aftershocks and then empties himself not just physically but also of the shame and aimlessness of the past seven months, of his fears, of his suspicions.

“Wait,” you say as he pulls away from you. You yank a paper towel out of the dispenser and wet it with cold water. First you cool his forehead and the back of his neck with it, then you wipe his fingers and his cock. Still perched on the counter, you wet another paper towel for yourself.

“No,” Aemond tells you. “Let me.” He takes it from you, opens your thighs, and kisses your mouth—teasingly, biting and sucking your lower lip—as he spreads your folds and cleans them of his seed, abundant hot white fluid that you can feel dripping out of you. As he passes over where you are most sensitive—where you can already feel longing for him rebuilding brick by brick—you jump a little, and you both laugh. I could go again, you think. I could do this with him forever. And then, as Aemond descends from the chemical high like a plane gliding down towards a tarmac, you watch as those old familiar poisons—shame, aimlessness, fear, suspicion—begin to fill up in him again, slowly but unmistakably.

He throws out the paper towels and takes several steps back. He starts putting on his clothes, staring at the wall, then at the mirror, not at you but past you, at himself, his clear river-blue eye wide and vacant. He looks horrified by what he’s done; or perhaps, rather, by what he’s said.

You grab your panties off the counter and step into them, readjusting your dress. “Look, uh…if you didn’t mean what you said…that’s totally cool. I get it, sometimes people say things in the moment that aren’t real, there’s the oxytocin and the dopamine, and I don’t want you to feel…uh…you know…like you have to keep up a false pretense or anything…”

Aemond turns around and walks out of the bathroom, the door slamming behind him.

“Okay,” you say to yourself. “Okay. I can fix this.” You use the toilet quickly—UTIs are not welcome here—and then head out onto the dancefloor.

The lights are dim again, and thank God for that; your makeup is smudged, your hair unruly, your eyes glazed, your dress rumpled and stained. Cregan is the only person still waiting. “Hey,” he says flatly, then squints at you. You avoid his astute greyish eyes.

“Hey. Where is everyone?”

“Criston took Jace to the hospital. Baela is there too. Rhaena and Luke are back at the hotel. Aegon is presumably balls deep in Selena Gomez. Aemond just sprinted out of this club and I’d guess he’s headed back to the hotel too. Daeron went after him. I think that’s everybody.”

You shift your weight from foot to foot uneasily. “Shelby?”

“Oh, right. Haven’t seen her. Still out with her friends.” His eyes sweep over you. “On a scale of one to ten, how homicidal would she be if she found out about whatever happened in that bathroom?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Uh huh.” Cregan strides towards the stairwell that leads down to the front door. “Let’s go.”

Back at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, you swipe your keycard and flick the lights on in your suite. You stand there alone, feeling the evidence of what you’ve done: sore muscles and bruised skin and pooling wetness, both yours and his. You are absorbed with thoughts of what you’re going to say to Aemond when you confront him, how much of your truth you are willing to bare. And then your eyes catch on the small trashcan beside your bed, which reminds you of the one back in Singapore, which reminds you of your pack of birth control pills discarded on a pile of crumpled soda cans and snack wrappers.

I haven’t taken a pill in days. How many days? A week?

“Oh my God,” you breathe. And then, more frantically: “Oh no, oh no, no no no…”

What do I do? What the hell do I do?

You race out into the hallway and knock on Baela’s door. Nobody answers. You try Rhaena’s next. She appears in her pajamas, pink and dotted with tiny green Tyrannosaurus rexes. “Hi,” she says agreeably enough, but she’s rubbing her eyes drowsily.

“Hi. I’m really, really sorry to bother you, but it’s an emergency.”

She perks up considerably. “Okay, how can I help?”

“Where’s Luke?”

“In the shower.”

“So he can’t hear us right now?”

“No, he can’t.”

“Good. Do you know when Baela will be back from the hospital?”

“Not anytime soon,” Rhaena says. “She messaged me that Jace needs stitches and has a concussion. They’ll be there all night, at least.”

You exhale, a defeated little squeak. “Is Aegon around? With or without Selena Gomez?”

“No, they haven’t come back yet. I have no idea where they are.”

“Okay.” You swallow noisily.

“What’s going on with you?” Rhaena asks, concerned.

“This really is not a Rhaena situation. This is a Baela or Aegon situation.”

“Alright, but neither of them are here. So I’m who you’ve got.”

You stare at her. “I need Plan B. Do you happen to have any Plan B?”

“Plan B…? Like, you just had unprotected sex with someone Plan B?”

“Yes, exactly, that one.”

Rhaena gapes, scandalized. “With who?!”

“Confidential,” you say briskly. “Do you have any or not?”

“No, I definitely don’t have any Plan B lying around.”

“No,” you groan. Tears are welling up in your eyes. “What am I going to do? How do I get Plan B in Japan?!”

“We’ll figure this out,” Rhaena says. She dashes to her nightstand to grab her iPhone. “Don’t panic. It’ll be okay. Let’s Google 24-hour pharmacies in Tokyo…”

You don’t have Criston here to summon an Escalade—nor would you willingly risk him finding out about this—but Rhaena uses Google Translate to ask the hotel’s front desk to call a taxi. She shows the taxi driver an address, figures out how many yen you owe him, and then asks him very politely (if haltingly) in Japanese to wait ten minutes while you’re inside the pharmacy so you can take a return trip as well. He seems to agree.

Rhaena accompanies you into the pharmacy and repeats these steps: Google Translate, an exchange of yen, the receipt of a service. She tells you that based on her quick research, Plan B is usually by prescription only in Japan, but pharmacists will sometimes be willing to prescribe it on the spot to a patient in need. Rhaena spends a long time typing out a message for the middle-aged, bespectacled pharmacist, then points to you. This is my friend, the maybe-pregnant slut from Missouri, you imagine her saying. She needs emergency contraception. It’s really in all of humanity’s best interests for her not to continue her bloodline.

“You have to show him your ID,” Rhaena tells you.

You give your passport to the pharmacist, and then he hands you a small package. You and Rhaena purchase a bottle of Coke Zero as well. You gulp down the single tablet as the pharmacist watches with bushy raised eyebrows, amused. You are pleased to discover that the taxi driver has waited, and within fifteen minutes you and Rhaena are back at the hotel.

“You’ve talked to a lot of people tonight,” you tell Rhaena matter-of-factly as you ride the elevator back up to the band’s floor.

“Oh, yeah. I guess I did. I mean, I’ve been practicing. And you needed me.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say.

Rhaena smiles sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“And I’ll be even more proud of you when I get my period.”

She giggles, she trots off to her suite, you retreat into yours. You collapse onto the floor and gaze up at the ceiling, studying the specks and grooves in the tiles like constellations.

“It was only one time,” you say to the ceiling. “I was on the pill for years. That takes a while to leave my system, right? I mean, what are the odds? It’s fine. It’s totally fine. Nothing’s going to happen, right?”

Right?

[notsoattractivearenti]

Two and A Half Men (Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader x Weston McKennie)

WC: 1.1K

Warnings: none

A/N: ok i'm not sure how to put it properly in the title without looking like a threesome group LMAO but in this fic Christian is reader's partner and Weston is both reader and Chris' best friend. and i'm aware Christian is holding a ball in the cover pic but imagine it’s a baby instead! this one is probably meh but i've been thinking about this idea all day and just had to write it down. hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

—

“Knock knock… Can I come in?”

You see Weston’s head peeking through the slightly-opened door, respectfully waiting for you and Christian to let him in.

You wave your hand from the hospital bed to invite him to come inside. Wes carefully opens then closes the door, and quietly walks toward you. You see him bringing two bags of something in one of his hands but you can’t figure out whatever those may be.

“Hey, Y/N!” He gives you a big hug. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

“Hi Wes! Very exhausted, of course, but all good. Thanks for checking in.” You respond weakly.

“Oh I figured!” He laughs. “Christian told me you were in labor for almost 24 hours??? That’s wild! I don’t think I could be as strong as you were!”

You chuckle with a faint smile written on your face. You weren’t lying when you said you are very exhausted – it was a very long and painful process you had to go through to bring your child into the world. But no matter how insanely tiring the labor was, you loved every second of it and would do it all over again.

“Yeah… Wild indeed. Totally worth it, though.”

“By the way,” Weston hands you one of the bags he brought earlier, “I got you sushi. I know you love them and you couldn’t have even one during your pregnancy, so I believe you deserve some.”

“No way! Thank you Wes!” You excitedly unpack the bag and open one of the three boxes of sushi Weston gave you. You haven’t eaten one in nine months, and right now it’s like those delicious sushi are begging you to eat them right away – and obviously you can’t resist it.

“Ugh, sushi is overrated.” Christian scoffs.

—

Christian just came back from changing your baby’s diaper in the other room. He is holding your little bundle of joy in his arms – since he was just born, Christian has already become so protective of him he didn’t want the baby to ever leave his arms.

“Hush, C, no one needs to hear your trashy opinion.” You playfully clap back at his statement.

Your banter cracks Weston up. He cackles and you both do a high five.

“Ha-ha! Burn bro!”

Christian squints and shakes his head. He is more than happy to know that his best pal and his life partner are best friends, but sometimes when you two “gang up” on him – which happens really often, because you both love to make fun of Christian together – he would feel so outnumbered and get quite annoyed by it.

“Hmm, I’m not loving this dynamic, you know.” Christian says sarcastically.

“Oh boohoo, don’t be so bitter, white man.” Weston mocks him in response.

“Anyway, what’s up, new dad!?” Weston greets Christian then does the usual handshake with him – but since Christian is currently holding your baby, they do the one-hand version of the handshake.

“Happier than ever bro! I’m living the dream!” Christian gushes. 

“Aww, congratulations my brother!” Weston excitedly pats Christian’s back.

Christian gently supports the baby's head and back with his hands then slightly lifts the baby closer to his face.

“Here, we want you to meet our son, Finley Mark Pulisic. You can call him Finn for short.” Christian officially introducing your little man to his best buddy.

Weston is immediately in awe of Finn. His eyes were instantly locked on the face of the cutest little human he has ever seen.

“Wow, dude, he is so precious…” Weston murmurs. “You’re so lucky. man”

“Yeah, I know.” Christian replies.

His eyes are also very much set on Finn, admiring how adorable his little one truly is. For him, “lucky” is an understatement. He feels like he has hit the jackpot with the family life he’s now living, and would not want to change even the littlest thing.

Weston feels the urge to caress Finn’s little chubby cheeks with his finger, but he doesn't want to cross any boundaries so he asks for Christian’s permission before doing anything.

“May I feel his cheeks?”

“Yeah, of course.” Christian allows him to do so.

Weston gently caresses Finn’s cheeks and his heart suddenly feels like it is exploding.

“Oh my God, why is he this soft!? These fluffy cheeks are to die for! He is so cute!” Weston just blurts his thoughts out.

You – who is currently busy eating sushi that Weston brought for you on the bed – laugh when you hear what Weston said. It is clear to you that he has become Finn’s number one fan.

“What can I say, I did make one hell of a cute baby.” You chime in.

“We. We made a cute baby.” Christian jokingly corrects you.

You roll your eyes, blow a raspberry at him, then continue eating.

“Yeah, no, Finn’s cuteness is definitely all Y/N. Like, one hundred percent Y/N.”

Of course Weston is taking your side, he just wants to get into Christian’s nerve.

“Yea, yea, yea, whatever.” Christian mutters.

—

Christian’s arms get tired from carrying the baby for quite some time, so he puts Finn down on his crib next to your bed. At the same time, Weston feels like he is forgetting something, so he looks around and realizes he brought another takeout food for Christian. He quickly grabs the bag to hand it to Christian.

“Oh, Chris, I brought you some burritos,” Weston hands the other bag to Christian, “they are not from Chipotle, but you gotta eat, bro.”

Christian chortles.

“You don’t need to do that, but thanks a lot bro.”

“Anything for my favorite new parents.” Weston winks and funnily does the finger guns at us.

“You know what Chris? I just thought about this: now that you have a son, we’re like two and a half men. Like, you and I are the two and Finn is the half. How awesome is that?” Weston randomly tells Christian about this thought that crosses his mind.

You were listening to Weston’s random thoughts and already feeling left out – obviously you are not being serious – you voice your protest to him.

“Hey! What about me? Where am I fitting in on this scenario?”

“You will be the one who gave birth to the half man!” Weston laughs.

You’re confused as you don’t find that funny, but you think you should just play along.

“Eh,” you shrug, “whatever.”

“You two can raise Finn together then.” You acted upset.

“Y/N, please, don’t be mad…” Weston pretends to beg for your mercy.

“You and I both know anyone is better at parenting than Christian, right?”

“Come on guys,” Christian groans, “stop bullying me!”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[the-hinky-panda]

The Drowning Kind : Part 1

Title: The Drowning Kind

Pairing: Captain Sean Renard x OFC (written as a reader)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You heard of the Portland Grimm and leave your fundamentalist group of naiads in Vancouver. You just wanted a safe fresh start; you didn't expect to fall in love with a royal hybrid police captain.

“Lots of men want to stay in a boat because they're afraid of drowning. But a mermaid knows: life is just not worth living if you're not ready to drown a few times.”

― C. JoyBell C.

Captain Sean Reynard has many secrets. Some are larger than others. This one is fairly small, relatively speaking. 

He owns a kayak. 

It’s dusty, and hasn't been used in years. He had bought it on a whim, trying to impress a woman long forgotten now, and now he’s thankful for that impulsive purchase. It’s almost eleven at night when he unlatches it from the roof rack of his car and slips the front of it into the water. The moon is full tonight, turning the river silver and the trees on the river bank more gray than black. He’s grabbing the paddle when he hears your footsteps on the soft riverbank. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were making it out tonight,” you say. “Heard it was a rough day in the office.” 

“Rough day in the office means meeting up with you will be a certainty.” 

Your eyes glint in the bright moonlight as you smile at his comment. He still is getting used to having someone genuinely pleased to have him in their presence, no expectations or favors. You’re already dressed in your swimsuit, bare feet, toes curling into the soft silt as the river laps around your ankles. He knows you’ve spent most of the hot summer day in the river, that you know the currents, branches, and estuaries as well as he knows all the roads and neighborhoods in Portland. The perks of being a naiad and a police captain.

He moves towards you, leaning down to kiss you but you retreat a couple steps further into the river with a coy smile. “You’re going to have to catch me first.” 

“Well that hardly seems fair.” 

“I’ll go easy on you,” you give him a wink before turning and disappearing under the silver water. 

He watches the ripples of your movement as you do your laps under the surface and wait for him to launch the kayak. By the time he’s made it to the halfway point in the river, he can see the electric blue glow of your gills as you circle around the kayak. He pulls his paddle out of the water and rests it across his lap. He waits for a few moments, enjoying the silence, letting his eyes adjust to the night sky as more stars start to appear in his vision. He needs this after the frustrations today; he needs the quiet, the physical effort��you. 

Your electric blue eyes are peering at him from the pointed bow of the kayak. You sink below the surface again but appear at the side of the kayak, effortlessly pulling yourself up and sitting, perfectly balanced, in front of him with minimal shifting of the boat. You stay in your naiad form to help with your balancing, air whistling and chirping quietly from the gills along your neck. 

“Do you want to talk about your day?” 

He shakes his head. “No. I’d rather hear about your day.” 

“All my swimming and playing with my fishy friends?” 

“Says the woman who got kicked out of the all you can eat sushi bar last week?” 

“I almost got kicked out! Get your facts straight, Captain.” 

“My apologies.”  He lays a hand over yours and you instinctively pull it away but he catches it, slipping his fingers through yours like a hook and halting your retreat. He can feel the scars of the cutting, the lack of webbing between your fingers. He knows if he looks at your feet, he’ll find the same disfigurement there too. He changes into his hybrid form and waits for your eyes to meet his. “You’re not the only one with marks of shame.” 

You squeeze his hand back and give him a small smile. This is usually when you start listing the differences between them: he had zero control over his heritage, you had made the conscious decision to go against eons of tradition. His mother had tried to protect him as best she could. Your husband had stood by and watched you be cut by the village elders so they wouldn’t do the same to him. He has tried to convince you, shame is shame, details be damned. One day, he hopes you’ll believe him that when he sees you, all he can see is strength, resilience, and bravery.  

He sees everything he wants to be and that’s a much bigger secret than the kayak. 

[ladylooch]

I would love to see some Emma and Lexie time

Like maybe them shopping, out to lunch, or just ranting about Timo and Nico

It’s unseasonably warm in November in New Jersey. Emma and Lexi, both pregnant, are taking advantage of the weather, and their husbands being home, by taking a walk around the neighborhood without their older children.

“I feel like fire crotch is happening so much earlier this time around.” Emma mumbles. “Like with Lio it was later, not until I was back in Switzerland.”

“I haven’t had it yet, but I fear the day it returns.” Lexi shudders. “But weird that it is happening earlier? You’re carrying her so high.”

‘You’re telling me. I cannot eat anything without getting acid reflux so bad it feels like I’m choking.” Emma huffs. “And also, I really, really miss sushi. Like Timo said they had it Vegas and I wanted to punch him in the face.” 

“Nico said the same thing! I’d rather he just didn’t tell me.” Lexi whines back to her. 

“There is part of me wants to just say fuck it. But I really don’t want the lecture from Doctor Bethany.” Both women have the same doctor this time around. Doctor Bethany delivered Lucie and was highly recommended to Emma for this pregnancy now that she will certainly be delivering in the U.S. Emma likes her, but she wishes the bitch would care less about her fast food cravings. Sometimes you just need some fries from McDonald’s.

“I can see the eyebrow raise right now.” Lexi jokes and Emma laugh heartily. “I’m so excited we are having girls together.”

“Me too! I have been going crazy on buying clothes. I can’t help it! It’s all so stinking cute. Way cuter than boy clothes.” Emma rubs her hand over her upper belly where the baby kicks. “Have you started thinking of names?”

“Yes! We still have some we considered with Luc, so it’s a shorter list than last time.”

“I feel like…” Emma trails off. “We may need to discuss names at some point.”

“What if its a Friends situation!? And you love mine!? You’re delivering first.”

“I promise I won’t take it!” Emma vows. 

“That’s what Rachel said.” Lexi laughs heartily as they head to the right to circle back home.

“I am a better friend than her.” Emma bumps Lexi’s shoulder gently. “Plus we are thinking a Swiss name to match Lee.”

“Okay, well…” Lexi sighs, biting her lip. “We are pretty confident we are going to go with Mackenzie.”

“Oh! I love it!!” Emma squeals, gripping Lexi’s forearm. “Mackenzie Hischier!” 

“Our little Mack.” Lexi muses, rubbing her hand over her bump. She leaves her hand under her belly to cup her close. “What about you?”

“Livia has been at the top of our list for the entire time.” Emma murmurs. “We have been calling her Livy since we found out she is a girl. Timo came up with it… again. He’s so good at coming up with names for our children. I have to be quick to name the next one.” 

“Maybe it is a former hook up?” Lexi jokes, knowing there is no way he would do that.

“Oh I would kill him.” Emma mumbles. “Because I am really in love with the name now! I couldn’t part with it.” 

“Livia and Mackenzie.” Lexi says after a few moments of silence. “We are already so in love with you two.” Emma wraps an arm around Lexi and they hug, bumps pressing together. “Wanna go get ice cream?”

“Yeah, let’s take my car. I’ve got my keys.” Emma giggles.

They hustle, as much as pregnant women can hustle, into Emma’s car, then head off on their pregnancy craving adventure.

[izumi-fanclub]

A3! Event Story Translation “Moon Traveler” - Chapter 5

Spring troupe's strategy to get Chikage to open up is now in action.

Chikage

(What a tedious meeting, at least I got away earlier than expected. I’ve got some time before rehearsal, so I’ll go do practice by myself.)

(I think the Space expo I recommended to Tsuzuru was near here somewhere, but it’s probably closed now…)

(I mean, what’s the point in going anyway? All you’re getting there is intel.)

…

(A strong longing for the moon. Looking at the moon filled with childlike wonder, huh…)

…

(Too bad. Looks like tonight’s moon is hidden behind the clouds.)

Chikage

I’m home.

Sakuya

Welcome back!

Masumi

Hey.

Chikage

…The Spring troupe’s complete.

Itaru

There’s an emergency family meeting.

Chikage

Quickly, let us move to the conference room!

Huh?

Citron

Itaru

Sakura sea bream and shirasu, please.

Citron

I will have some shrimp and Sudaree as well!

Tsuzuru

Salmon, snow crab and toro.

Shirasu over here! Please add some more engawa and squid.

Masumi

Chikage

So this is the conference room?

Izumi

They requested to have sushi for dinner.

Chikage

I see the agenda is seasonal.

Tsuzuru

Ah, about that, I——.

To be honest, the script isn’t really going well, I was thinking of adjusting Roberto’s character to make him more like Chikage-san.

So it’d be easier for you to act the role.

Oz was a character I could write even without knowing you. But this time around, I don’t want to write without knowing and keep it vague.

But when I think about it, there’s so many things we don’t know about you.

Of course I know that you have your own reasons for doing this, but…

I want to create a performance that is different from the one we had back then. That can only be done by the Chikage-san of today with us. 

That’s why, I’d like to ask for a favor…

Chikage

And that is?

Sakuya

…

Itaru

…

Tsuzuru

We——.

Citron

We would like a digestion and cashmere!

Chikage

Digestion and cashmere?

Masumi

Question and answer.

Itaru

Each Spring troupe member will ask one question to you.

Masumi

One rule. You don’t have to answer questions you don’t wanna answer, but if you do, don’t lie.

Chikage

… I see.

Sakuya

How about it?

Chikage

…

… Alright.

Tsuzuru

Really!?

Masumi

No way.

Chikage

But even if I lie, how would you tell?

Sakuya

Chikage-san lies and tells jokes but you never break a promise.

Chikage

… If you say so, I can’t betray you now.

Itaru

Besides, it’s pretty lame to run away.

Chikage

Yeah, yeah. I’ll follow the rule.

Of course there are things I can’t talk about, but if I can veto them, it should be fine.

It’s my fault that the script and play aren’t working after all.

I’m the lead actor of the show, and I’ll do whatever I can to help out. I didn’t thinkk it would be to answer questions though.

Tsuzuru

Let’s get on with it, then.

Sakuya

I’m glad to get to know Chikage-san better too!

Clerk

Here you go.

Citron

The plushie has come!

Izumi

Let’s eat up the sushi!

Tsuzuru

Please add some octopus!

Chikage

(I would have never accepted such a request if I was the same person when I first joined the troupe.)

(... I must’ve gone soft.)

Yuki

… Okay, the measurements are done. Not much really changed since last time.

I don’t want to make more adjustments, so just maintain your figure.

Tsuzuru

Got it.

Yuki

Also, I want to keep the accessories gold.

Chikage

… I’d like to keep this ring on this time if possible.

Yuki

Alright. Let’s put some silver on the others too.

Chikage

Don’t.

Masumi

…

*Typing on laptop*

Chikage

…

Masumi

Is now a good time?

Chikage

Yeah. What’s up?

Masumi

Q&A example.

Chikage

How shocking that the first one would be from Masumi.

Masumi

Because I want to get this over with.

Chikage

I see, then go ahead.

Masumi

Why do you always got that ring on?

Chikage

——.

To think you’d get straight to it.

…

Masumi

… Whatever, if you don’t wanna talk about it, just pass.

It’s not like things you wear all the time don’t mean anything to you, but you don’t really seem to be the type to be into superstitions.

I was just wondering about it.

Chikage

… Well, you’re fine Masumi. We talked a bit about it before.

Remember when I told you I had someone from my family pass away? This is a memento of that family.

Masumi

Memento…

Chikage

Yes. Proof that person lived… and died. And proof that I’m still here.

… It’s hard to explain.

Masumi

I know that stuff’s as important to you as life itself. That’s enough.

Somehow, I had a feeling it was related to family.

At least we cleared the quota. See you.

Chikage

That’s it? Is that alright?

… But for the first round, that was pretty early.

Hisoka

… It’s rare to see you troubled.

Chikage

… So that’s where you were.

Hisoka

I was just sleeping on the roof.

Chikage

Didn’t I tell you to be aware of the season?

Hisoka

… It’s just one question and one answer, right? It’s better than dying without living to tell the tale.

Chikage

I didn’t think that far ahead as you’d expect.

Hisoka

… I get why you wouldn’t want to talk about it, but everyone wants to know about “Chikage Utsuki” and not the other you.

I think it’s good to talk about as much as you can bit by bit.

Chikage

…

________________

Prev. Ch.

Next Ch.

[arpmemething2]

Victorious starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction...   Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"I like waffles."

"Are you done with your little sabotage game?"

"Is it eating tuna fish on a ferris wheel? ...Cause I did that once, and I threw up on a bird."

"You were invading my privacy!"

"This is a car. The car...of the future!"

"I thought he was homeless."

"You have a pimple under your arm."

"Please go take a shower."

"I was choking on a pretzel!"

"Hey, waddup, girl? You got a numb tongue?"

"So what do you want with us?"

"I just made 2 little girls scream and run away with their cookies."

"I'm gonna grab him and wrestle him to the ground."

"Oh, great, so she gets an A- and I get a broken eye and a black nose"

"DO NOT LICK THE BALLOONS!!!"

"That's not my only plan... Someday I'd like to plant a vegetable garden"

"Yep, I've got the talent and she's got the strong teeth. You know, she's never had one cavity."

"Is that mac and cheese?"

"I get nervous when my brother eats things that aren't food. ...Seriously, I think he ate my charm bracelet."

"I'm a tutor, and I don't like to talk about things I do at my house!"

"You were with another puppet."

"I've been telling you people she's stupid, but did anyone believe me?"

"She's not supposed to be laughing on the bunny!"

"Is there some reason your brother replaced his seat belt with a rope?"

"I've got a gun!"

"Ok, I believe you! Don't hit me!"

"I squirted hot cheese all over my friend and her current boyfriend, who was my ex-boyfriend, and then I kissed him right in front of her, which I felt really bad about. But then it was okay, 'cause she punched me right in the face."

"You pay extra for the sushi and you pay the extra money."

"Well, you're dressed in sad colors, and you were playing a sad song... oh, and you're wearing a button that says, "I'm sad, ask me why.""

"She threw a rock at me."

"I don't think you can, I'm pretty scrappy."

"Tell your puppet to quit being mean to me!"

"Fish pee, you are drinking fish pee."

"We can only blame the earth."

"Aw, you want me to tickle your tummy?"

"I'll give you this dollar to get to the point."

"That is some juicy coughing and hacking."

"Its going to be the first time she's left the house in six years."

"WILL YOU KILL THE DISCO?!!"

"Hey. Look at the new costume I made. Can you guess who I am?"

"I don't want to be doinked, I'm not ready!"

"Is it a transporter from the future that can beam you to another table, because if it is, what button do I push?"

"Shut up! I'm opening a Christmas Present!"

"I AM A POLICE OFFICER!"

"I have a MUSTACHE...and I think I like it."

"Look at my tounge It's massive!"

"I can't handle being trapped like this. We're like animals!"

"We're blondes! Wooo! We're like princesses!"

"I bet SHE'S been stung by a bee."

"How do you know so much about animal hospitals?"

"Haven't you ever wondered what it's like to be a blonde?"

"Free hugs! I want to give free hugs!"

"Aw it's okay. I read on the Internet that coffee works great for getting rid of fur bugs."

"Normal's boring."

"Oh, no, now I'll never win the prison beauty pageant!"

"I don't talk like that!"

"If you don't take your hands off me in two seconds, you won't have hands."

"BUTTERNUT! BUTTERNUT!"

"For so many years I prayed every night to be hotter. (pauses) ...THIS ISN'T WHAT I MEANT!!!"

"You don't have to be afraid to put your dreams in action!"

" Look! It's a little...ceramic guitar. I made it at Color me Pot."

"An escaped prisoner crashed through our window and was dragged out by Yerbian soldiers!"

"Who put my dog in a wedding dress?"

"Can I have my trombone back?"

"I thought caffeine makes you vibrate."

"Don't make that face."

"This Hambone battle is really scary."

"I admire how you're never afraid to say what you think."

"Oh, it's you two. I thought I smelled failure."

"You're all suspects."

"Why did you make them leave?"

"Nice piano."

"I'M FREE! I'M FREE!"

"Your mobile phone is once again mobile."

"Try not to talk."

"I use an appropriate amount of ketchup!"

"I don't wanna be gotten!"

"This is kidnapping!"

"SILENCE! I'll get you, my pretty and your little fish, too!"

"How come everyone's being all weird?"

"I spy a fly, with my little thigh!"

"Okay, I can picture me, sitting on a pony, wearing a bright purple hat. I-I was wearing the purple hat, not-not the pony. Do they even make pony hats? Anyway, I was looking fabu!"

"My hair color has nothing to do with my psychological problems!"

"Your daddy know how to shoot a bow and arrow with his foot?"

"Look, I just wanna say you guys make me sick."

"Sweating is gross, so I don't do it."

"I tell you, nothing warms my cockles more than lookin' at this magical pile of baby here!"

"You wanna see a kidnapper?! KIDNAPPER! Let go!"

"NO ONE can kill disco!"

"Oh, come on, for his ten year teaching anniversary you guys don't think he deserves a better present than a one cup coffe maker?"

"Aw, don't be sad, little one. I think your head looks great like that."

"She chewed through our leash!"

"I wanna live! There's things I've never tried! There's things I really, really, really wanna do!"

"You wanna get slapped with a sausage?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, were we all supposed to dress stupid today?"

"She can't get her boobs in the hamburger."

Just drag the body out by the dumpster and don't say nothing to nobody!

"Eat your pants!"

"I was just walking around and I saw this kite stuck in a bush and, and it's broken and someone needs to fix it!"

"What's that supposed to mean?!?!"

"No, this is my mean sister and her rude friend."

"You know, why don't I just lie on the floor so you can start kicking me?"

"Do you have any aspirin?"

"Oh my god!  Underwear that floats!"

"I have a science project due tomorrow. I have to turn in my mold bush."

"I have a mole on my bum shaped as a fish."

"NO! YOUR MOTHER GAVE BIRTH TO THE WRONG THING!!"

"Ok. I'll keep your dirty secret."

"She saw a Rabbi in a bikini eating pancakes"

" So, you just happened to have that wig here in your house?"

"Under "special skills" I put gymnastics and karate, and that made them think I could do stunts."

"What's THAT supposed to mean?!"

"Are those real cheekbones?"

"Why are you rubbing my boyfriend?"

"This one time I ate a hamburger and an hour later I started sneezing but i don't think it had anything to do with the hamburger."

[princesskurta]

Fever? Sushi.

Fandom: JuJutsu Kaisen Ship: Megumi Fushiguro x GN!reader Warnings: None

Summary: After a mission in the rain you catch a fever and are sentenced to two days of bed rest. Megumi, one who isn’t known for expressing his kindness, shows up surprisingly with comfort food.

“Achoo!” I yelped before groaning. That was the 5th sneeze in 30 seconds, it was starting to make my nose run again.

After the higher ups sent me to do a mission during a storm, I caught a fever and had to stay in bed for a while. Today was the first day of me missing classes and it was more boring than I could have imagined. At least the other day I had Itadori and Nobara to talk to through the walls. Now it was dead silent besides the occasional blowing of wind.

The way my dorm was faced I wasn’t even able to see the track and field from my bed. I’d have to open my door but if I did that then I would put the others at risk for getting sick. I sighed and laid on my side, looking at the sky and trying to will myself back to good health. 

I started to daydream about what I could do once I got out. First I would train overtime for the upcoming days to make up for this time. Then I’d probably order sushi for the rest of the week since I’m craving it.

I heard my door open and I turned in my bed quickly. I saw Megumi entering with a plastic bag in his hands. 

“Wha- Megumi, you shouldn’t be in here,” I said, pulling my blanket over my face like a mask, “You’ll get sick.”

Megumi raised an eyebrow at me and grabbed a chair from my desk, bringing it towards me. He placed it next to my bed and sat down, placing the bag on the floor and opening it. The smell of food drifted from it, making me realize how hungry I was.

“I doubt it,” was all he said.

He took out a small container that seemed to be holding a type of soup. He also pulled out two sets of chopsticks and two containers of sushi. I gasped seeing he brought my favorite type and almost leaned in to hug him.

“You brought me food, thank you!” I exclaimed, sitting up, “I was actually just wishing I had sushi. You're a real lifesaver, Megumi.”

“No problem.. I’m glad it’s what you wanted,” he smiled slightly, opening up the container of soup, “You should probably eat this first though.”

I smelled the soup and wrinkled my nose a bit. I’ve smelt it before when my father was sick, but I’ve never actually tried it.

“I promise it tastes better than it smells,” Megumi sighed, pulling out a plastic spoon from the bag, “It’s also supposed to help you feel better.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to confess he lied but he never did. I took the bowl and spoon from his hands and held a spoon of it close to my face. I slowly opened my mouth but dropped the dish back into the bowl before handing it to him.

“Sorry, I don’t think I can try that,” I cringed, “The smell is so strong, I can’t ignore i-”

My sentence was cut off because Megumi had grabbed my face with one hand, with his fingers resting near my lips. He turned my head to face him and forced me to open my mouth by squishing the corners of my lips. Before I could pull away he spooned the soup into my mouth. I closed my mouth to avoid it from spilling and glared at him as I held the soup in my mouth, savoring it before swallowing.

I made a face at him before grabbing the soup back out of his hands and spooning more into my mouth. It actually didn’t taste so bad. I think at least, maybe it was just my taste buds settling for any type of food. Or it could just be the fever messing with my taste buds. 

Whatever the reason was, I ate the soup in less than 10 minutes while listening to Megumi talk about what I missed during class.

“We’ll have a test at the end of the week,” He mentioned, “And also there might be a pop quiz tomorrow or the next day based on what we learned last week.

I groaned, throwing my head back, “Why can’t I just get excused from this all. Not fair.”

Megumi chuckled and explained in detail the things they learned in math that might be on the quiz tomorrow. I finished my soup as soon as he finished explaining and he took it from me.

“Thanks for the soup. It was good,” I explained, already feeling my nose become clearer.

“Then why did I have to spoon feed you like a baby,” He scoffed as he handed me a container of my favorite sushi and a pair of chopsticks.

“The smell,” I complained, “You wouldn’t have eaten it either if you were me.”

“I can smell the same thing you smell,” He sighed, opening the other container.

I ate one sushi and relished in the taste, my taste buds finally were getting treated after a long day of nothing.

“Why’d you decide to stay,” I asked, popping another sushi in my mouth, “Although you claim you won’t get sick. It’s still a big hazard.”

Megumi shrugged, “You’ve been cooped up here all day. The other two said they haven’t spoken to you so I assumed you’d be bored out of your mind.”

I smiled and faced him, “Aww, Megumi was thinking about me? I’m flattered.”

Megumi scoffed and turned away, “Obviously I was thinking about you, you're my friend.”

I smiled and devoured the rest of my sushi. I started to feel tired now that I was full. Megumi took the container from me and dumped all the trash back into the plastic bag.

“Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, as I tucked myself underneath my blanket.

“Yeah.. Thanks for the food again. I really appreciate it,” I yawned.

He nodded and left, shutting the door quietly on his way out. I smiled and closed my eyes, finally feeling able to sleep again. 

[bihansthot]

Tomas and Hallvard will have to wait until tomorrow, I didn’t nap but I crashed hard after watching nearly 2 hours of pointless nonsense to see the new trailer. I did take Denny to the park for a bit despite my lack of sleep because I try to be a competent dog Mom. It occurs to me though that I did an Understand My Ship in 5 Minutes for Bi-Han and I but I haven’t done one for Syzoth and I so I suppose I should do that too. I wonder if there are polyamorous templates? That would be the easiest but I guess it doesn’t really matter if I have one for all the combinations involved in the Polyship? I got a really lovely message earlier that I really am looking forward to replying to but I want to wait until I’m a functional dinosaur again because 4 hours of sleep is not a cute look for me. My body is broken though and despite being exhausted I still won’t be able to sleep until 3 or 4 am, stupid circadian rhythm. If I get a second wind I might post the Understand My Ship thing for Syzoth and I since I already have the little doodles done? Or I might end up passing out on the couch for three hours, who knows! The possibilities are endless! I wish it was the weekend though, I need a get drunk and be silly night and Friday is perfect for that. Friday is the 25th anniversary of my heart transplant and in my personal quest to be a less miserable human being I’m actually going to celebrate it this year. I’ve made it 25 freaking years with someone else’s heart! Not many people can say that. It certainly hasn’t been easy, particularly not these last 7 out of 8 months we’re into this year but I didn’t die and I didn’t give up and the way I see it is I deserve a little treat. Drinking and being silly is that little treat. I might get sushi and really live it up! My partner and I are going to celebrate for real for real sometime in November with my first ever trip to Las Vegas. I’m very much looking forward to eating all the things and drinking all the drinks. We might see their favorites Penn and Teller too, all depends on timing and finances. It was supposed to be a group trip with some of my IRL friends but sadly the one has lost both her parents in the last 3 months and my other one is the one who had the heart attack. So, it will probably just be my partner and I. I wish life wasn’t so unfair to people who are important to me lately, it seems like all of my closest friends are going through just awful things right now and it’s things I can’t physically help with, of course I do my best to emotionally and mentally support them but like come on universe leave my friends alone! Go back to picking on me! I’m used to it! I’m rambling now I just figured I’d post a little update about MK stuff and the post got away from me. Oops?

Last thing I just got a text from my older brother and it has me crying from laughing. When I was a tiny thing probably about 4 I used to freak out when you could see the sun and the moon at the same time and I used to sing at the top of my lungs “sun out and the moon out”. My brother’s video was of the sun and the moon both visible and him singing the song 🥰🥺 The fact that he remembers something so silly after 35 years is so touching 😭

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without Context

Treasure Island Eedition, Chapter 16

Ded think Ded pee on him once." Ded, you definitely remember peeing on him now. Janus leans over to Cookie "Can druid piss bring plants to life?" "Ded pee on too many trees for that to be true." Amber: "Janus! Everyone knows that isn't how it works. It requires some other of their bodily fluid to bring plants to life." MJ: “I knew a lady in school that got kicked out for that.” "Yes yes, time and a place for everything and it's called Strixhaven. Moving on." "Oh...you met the madwoman known as Poison Ivy Pam. Yeah, we don't talk about her in magic circles." "Ded run into her being pursued by Boy With No Pants." "We could get turned into gold zombies..." "Are those zombies made of gold? Or zombies obsessed with gold?" "... Yes ..." “I say we just go and follow him. What’s the worst that can happen.” thunderclap *horses whinny* *tortle noises* "Oh wonderful, Fred stayed loyal." Magnus is definitely using a kakamora corpse as his drinking cup that night. Janus gets a little me time with one of the slain Kakamora's, dissecting it and drawing pictures in his book. Janus pulls out a small lime. "Fascinating. Well, it's either the creatures brain, it's carried for some religious significance, or Flint had a very twisted sense of humor." Ded: "That last one a given." "Ameila, I'm not going to keel over again. I promised I'd be your best man when you finally marry that girl of yours back home. I'm not dying any time soon, can't let you or Jane down." Ded conducts warding ritual to dispel all the flags being triggered. “They’re cute.” *iguana noises* “Oh, yes, Dingo. Three months tops.” "Shiver my timbers shiver my my soul..." Magnus mutter-sings to himself as the longboat to shore is readied. Amber: "Shiver me a buck fifty to buy some more common sense." “What does your gnoll-nose smell?” Melfina: "Do you think we'll find the rest of my answers here?" MJ: “Yeah, but they’ll probably be disappointing. To you. Not in the greater narrative.” But there's also another scent that covers the whole beach. As though from a very large marine animal. "There is always a bigger fish." “Like, sea lion large, whale large or release the kraken large?” "Is this one of those islands that's a turtle?" "Please not a kraken, it took me a week to get the ink out last time and we fled from it." "Let's head inland before we hear boss music." Cookie grasps ahold of his PSI crystal and tries to detect anything nearby. As the longboat pulls ashore there is a sound like a thunderclap crossed with a trumpet's call as well as a flash of light. And suddenly there is a massive elephant seal blocking your path to the interior of the Island. Cookie: "I have found it..." The Seal is wearing a Wizard Hat. "Not a Seal of Approval. Those buggers are tough." A Mighty Arcane Seal bars your way. "Oh, an arcane seal, not a seal of approval. Seal of approval is their next evolution." "I wonder if this is the infamous twelfth seal." "If it doesn't work, it still works as a pokey thing on a stick... pokey things work on everything.." "Before we go, do you have a relative called the Seal of Approval?" "Cousin Val? I haven't seen him in a while, last time I met up with him and Cousin Litty the Seal of Quality was many moons ago." "SQUIRREL!" Cookie you're able to convince it to chill out and enjoy the pretty colors it was now tasting. Cookie collects the boot. Rabbit feet are lucky, maybe this one is too. “Now you lie there and there’s a very small chance Magnus won’t kill you.” MJ: “I saw Dingo fight a school of Piranha once. Still can’t eat sushi.” "Saw him get a hold of a dog once." Janus shudders. MJ: “To be fair, that dog was kind of a dick and didn’t need all its paws.” "Fascinating. That mountain-face looks like the number four in draconic." Janus: "That which is not dead may eternal lie, but in strange aeons even death may die. The motto of my Alma Mater." Ded: "Mr Tentacle Head says that a lot." Amber: "Your school trucks with dangerous forces. That entity hasn't woken up in my entire life and I don't wish to see it happen." Janus: "Which is why I politely refused a teaching position there, in favor of the Henry Jekyll School." Cookie: "I've only ever learned from the land... the animals... and anyone I talk with.. My school is the world..... I cant wait for the reunion party.." Amber: "Ded...Mr Tentacle Head as you call him is a very powerful, very ancient, very dangerous being that shouldn't even exist in this universe. Where have you seen him?" Ded: "Him one head of four-headed cat-goddess statue." “Strixhaven had posters about trying to seize control of ancient seats of power. I had to sit through scared straight talks with the survivors. Poor, poor Keldor.” "Was he the bloke who got his face melted off?" “To be fair, it looks awesome and he doesn’t have to shave anymore.” "I don't even know who my father is. I don't know who I will be tomorrow... I can only be me today.... and that goes for you too, Melfina..." "Smith, I presume." The Tree croaks at you: "In the bark." And while everyone else stands there in a badass pose, Ded just lets his mouth hang open with his tongue out. OOC: Let’s do this thing! LEEEEEEERRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYY! OOC2: No pulling a Leroy Jenkins in this game: we all survive this. OOC: Wizards don’t get Leroy anyway. They maybe get to be a leaf on the wind. "You're grounded. Go to your suitcase."

[purplesurveys]

1540

What is your favourite dog breed? Probably beagles if I really had to pick a favorite. I love all dogs, though.

What colour nail polish do you wear the most? I don’t wear nail polish nearly enough to have a go-to color.

Do you use lip balm regularly? Nah. My bigger issue here is my likely tendency to lose the lip balm roll every 2-3 days lol.

Do you drink soda? I don’t, but I will share that I got to try Sprite for the first time (since my awful experience with it when I was 3) a few weeks ago and I was...surprised to really like it? Hahaha the taste was fine and the fizz isn’t as aggressive as Coke’s, which is as good as it gets for me. In any case I might give at least just Sprite more chances from now on, but of course I’ll still moderate how much I drink soda because I don’t want to end up hooked to it.

Do you drive? Yup.

If so what kind of car do you drive? I still have my hatchback Mitsubishi Mirage.

Look to your left, what do you see? It’s all my BTS merch in a semi-organized, semi-cluttered pile...a pile that is also quickly running out of space, hahaha.

How many people have you dated? One.

Do you use hand sanitizer frequently? More often than before due to Obvious Reasons, but I do still forget sometimes. In any case, I spray alcohol on my hands mainly after playtime with the dogs or when I come from a crowded area.

How many hair products do you use? Two - just shampoo and conditioner is all I need really.

Are you happy with your appearance? Sure. I feel like my insecurities came about largely when I was a teenager, right when those insecurities typically happen. But I’ve grown out of those now - I still have bad days, of course, but they don’t eat me up as much as they used to.

What is the last book you read? I can’t remember.

What website do you visit most often? Apart from social media (which eats up most of my time online) and Google Suite (which I use for work)...probably Wikipedia? I like learning about things and people and events and I never run out of articles to read.

Have you ever broken a bone? I haven’t; the most I’ve been through was a sprained ankle. Zero broken bones, fortunately.

Are you artistic? I like watching people be artistic and I like looking at other people’s art, if that counts. I wouldn’t label myself that trait at all, though.

Have you ever been to a concert? I have, but I usually keep my attendance to those once-in-a-lifetime acts as opposed to others who may go to shows as long as they hold some level of interest towards the artist. That’s why my checklist so far has only been One Direction and Paramore hahaha – then as long as I can see Beyoncé and BTS, I’d consider myself completely fulfilled in this department.

Have you ever performed in a play? Yes, in school. It was mandatory though. < Same. I’ve never been a theatre kid so I haven’t been in a play that was outside school and was outside being mandatory.

Do you like to dance? Not, like, professionally. I keep my dancing to swaying back and forth to music I vibe with.

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be? To be less of a control freak. I overwork myself to the point of exhaustion because I always want to make sure I have some sort of input over everything I do – and I wish I could just start laying off every once in a while.

What search engine do you use? Chrome, but I use Safari on my phone because I’m too lazy to download Chrome. Do you have a Facebook account? Yep.

What is your favourite food? Sushi. < Great answer, I’ll go with this too. Kwek-kwek is a close second.

Can you use chopsticks? I can. I feel like I don’t hold them correctly though because my food would occasionally fall off and I will also sometimes get finger cramps lol, but I can manage them well enough to feed myself.

Do you use a blowdryer on your hair? Only if I’m running really late and if I have a feeling that my hair wouldn’t dry fast enough while driving.

Do you use a flat iron? No and I never want to be anywhere near one. My mom had my hair rebonded a handful of times when I was younger even though I was always very vocal about how uncomfortable and unconfident having straight hair made me feel.

Do you have a cell phone? Yups.

What colour underwear are you wearing? Green.

What colour are most of your clothes? Black is still leading I think. I’ve been meaning to explore more colorful pieces but I’m just tooooooo lazy to shop and rehaul my closet.

Do you collect anything? K-pop merch. I won’t say I collect as a serious hobby, i.e. participating in photocard buy-and-sells, but I always buy from new collections and releases.

What colour are your eyes? They are dark brown.

Do you have any tattoos? I don’t have any. I did accompany my sister as she got her first-ever tattoo last Friday and both she and Angela asked when I planned on getting my first haha. 14 year old me (who wanted sleeves) would be so disappointed to find out her older self is now terrified of anything sharp LOL

Do you play video games? Eh, not really. I’ve always preferred watching others play, but not me. As a kid I used to watch my dad, older cousin, and uncles a lot; as I got older it transitioned to watching playthroughs and gaming vloggers on YouTube.

Do you speak any other languages? Other than English, Filipino. Do you wear makeup? Just foundation and concealer if my face is going through a rough breakout. Sometimes I’ll put on eyeliner if I’m feeling productive enough and if I have enough extra time.

How many times have you moved? That I can recall, two. I know we moved more times than that, but some of those instances happened when I was too young to remember.

What was the last food you ate? Yangnyeom chicken.

What was the last thing you had to drink? Coffee.

Do you liked grilled cheese? It’s fine, but I never look for it. I can’t remember the last time I had one.

Do you eat breakfast? Usually only during the weekends. Work consumes me the moment I wake up on weekdays.

Do you have a cat? No.

What is your favourite childhood memory? It was always my favorite when it came time to pick up my dad from the airport. His contracts to work abroad were longer when I was a kid, and we went without him every 6 months. Only when I got older did it start getting reduced to just 4 months.

What was your favourite movie as a kid? Toy Story. It still is my favorite children’s movie to this day. I remember liking Finding Nemo and Rapunzel too.

Have you ever dated someone online? No. I experimented with Bumble after my breakup but it was 100% for the ego boost, since it shows you who wants to match with you.

Do you like to take walks? Uhh as much as possible, no. I really wish I could like walking, but it just tires me out and I get bored easily even if I’m doing it with someone. Then again I also feel like this speaks about my fitness (and lack thereof) more than anything lol.

Are you going to college right now? Not anymore; I graduated two years ago.

If so, what is your major? I took up journalism.

Do you like school? It was fun in college because I was infinitely more independent than I ever was from when I was in Catholic school. Even learning was fun because I got to pick a significant portion of my classes, and because I was actually allowed to bring my laptop for note-taking. I barely have memories from my time in grade school and high school because I didn’t like those years too much.

What perfume/cologne do you wear? I don’t wear perfume much these days.

Do you keep a journal? If so how often do you write in it? It’s just this one. It’s updated a few times a week.

Have you ever traveled outside of your country? Yups.

Do you chew gum? Sometimes.

Do you live in a big city? Nope, I wouldn’t call it big.

How often do you go out to eat? Not very often at all, I’d say 4-5 times a month. I get food delivery way more frequently.

What is the last movie you saw in theatres? It was still Knives Out. There’s yet to be a movie that captures my interest enough to want to buy a movie ticket for it.

Have you ever dyed your hair? Once. It’s been due for redyeing for like the last...three months lol my roots have been looking awkward with the light brown now.

Do you drink tea? Nopes.

Do you subscribe to channels on youtube? I do.

Do you have a tumblr? Yup.

Do you watch anime? No, was never into it.

Can you cook? I cannot.

How old were you when you first started dating? 16. Are/Were your parents strict? It was mostly when I was young, which, knowing now how scatterbrained and unaware I was as a kid, is completely understandable today lol. I got better at handling myself as I got older and now whenever my mom attempts to still be strict with me, it’s usually my dad who manages her and tells her to back off.

Is your room messy? No.

Do you have Netflix? Yeah, we have a family plan so I technically have my own account under that.

Do you have any regrets? If so what do you regret? Small ones here and there that I barely remember. I don’t think I’ve had any life-changing regrets.

How are your grades? Pretty ok. I was always good at memorization and since most of the classes I had to take were objective-based, all I needed was to read modules and textbooks front to back and I was pretty much good to go. Conversely, my grades usually suffered under classes that are more open to interpretation – which explains why I hated subjects like philosophy.

Do you get nervous easily? Yeah I can get quite jumpy over anything.

What do you look for in a BF/GF? Someone sociable and adventurous - it’d be cool if I can pull them for a day of gallery viewing or rock climbing or pottery lessons, anything under the sun really. Onto more particular traits, I’m also quite sensitive when it comes to smell and hygiene so it’s ideal if they have these things covered too.

Have you ever written a song or poem? No, I’m not very good at creative writing and have never been.

Have you ever written a short story or novel? I attempted short stories as a teenager but all of those are gross. I never look back on them, haha.

Are/Were you in a school club? Yeah, but they were mandatory every year so it’s not like I had a choice.

Do you play an instrument? Sadly enough I don’t. Where do you want to be in 5 years? If I’ve moved out by then I’d consider it a success.

What do you never leave the house without? Phone, phone charger, wallet, car keys, vape pen.

What food(s) do you refuse to eat? Fruits.

Favourite candy? Maltesers.

Do you have a good relationship with your mom? It’s okay; it’s definitely so much better compared to how destructive it was in my younger years. I wouldn’t say we’re close though and I don’t think it would ever get to that point – we are too fundamentally different. I mean first of all she’s very very pious and I dislike anything that has to do with Christianity, so that will never be resolved between us. Most of her stances are also anchored towards that religion, and mine are the complete opposite.

Do you have a good relationship with your dad? It’s better than my mom’s. I also wouldn’t call myself close with my dad but it’s more of him not really being emotionally capable of closeness, and I accepted that a while ago. But other than that, we do have a good relationship and I appreciate that we’re on the same radar when it comes to beliefs and stuff.

What did you have for dinner last night? I didn’t have dinner the last two nights but last Friday, Angela and I went to our favorite Korean spot and got jjajangmyeon, dakgangjeong, tteokbokki, and gimbap.

Do you wear glasses? Every moment that I’m awake, yes.

Do you have any siblings? If so, do you get along with them? I don’t talk to my brother, but I’m solid with my sister, yes.

Do you watch reality tv shows? If so which ones? Yeah I used to like watching a number of reality shows like Keeping Up, Masterchef, anything baking and home improvement, lol. These days it’s reduced to Korean reality shows like 2 Days 1 Night and I Live Alone.

Do you listen to the Beatles? Nope.

Do you listen to No Doubt? No.

Do you listen to Nirvana? No.

Do you listen to The Cure? No.

How many songs are on your iPod? I haven’t used an iPod since high school.

What do you miss most about your childhood? Playing outside. I don’t miss like 95% of it though; my childhood wasn’t that positively remarkable.

How many pets do you have? Two.

What kind of pets do you have? I have two dogs. What colour are the walls in your room? White.

Do you write "To-Do" lists? I have a virtual to-do list that I keep on Google Sheets. I love love love that sheet and keep it on from the moment I clock in until I clock out.

Do you procrastinate often? Yes, I am really bad (or good??) with procrastination.

What is your favourite book? I don’t have any.

Did you hate any of your teachers? Yes so many from my old school. Others had their favorite students and neglected the rest, others were unnecessarily terrifying, others happened to just dislike me. Whatever it is they were part of the reason I disliked my time in that school.

Have you ever been depressed? Yep.

How do you handle stress? Entertainment through YouTube.

What are you looking forward to? SLEEPING. I’ve been socializing the last three days, barely saw my room and barely had a weekend. At this point I just can’t wait to have a comfy night’s rest.

[tako-cafe]

Idia ED HCs

as the title implies this is covering eating disorders so be cautious if sensitive to this. reader beware type deal, also game spoilers

ok Ive done this before actually but it was vague and I offered zero proof so I’m doing this correctly now. I covered Azul in that old post too and his own post will be coming soon as well. Lets get into Idia now.

To start: how this will be done and his ED I think he has. For card and homescreen lines I’m just going to quote them as I don’t want this bogged down with too many screenshots but I will show as many event and main game ones as I can instead for those.

Now what do I think he has? ARFID but specifically the Lack of Interest variant. For reference this is described by the Eating Recovery Center as showing little or zero interest in food. Which can cause forgetting to eat, low appetite or distracted at eating time, or even extreme “picky eating” which limits what you eat or how much.(note I am also pairing this with a linked dx hc of autism for him link to a short article about this)

Now with this specific HC it more so was picked because he isn’t aiming for a weight goal or focusing on a specific idea (ie clean eating for example) but his foods he will touch are safe + him admitting he forgets to eat. As self admitted in the cooking event.

He seems very sensory on what he picks. In his Student intro sheet he hates raw fish but loves candy. Which is then backed up with his dorm uniform line, “Oh hey, want a gummy worm? …I just love brightly- colored candy.” A Birthday Boy line, “When I was out shopping, Sam said he’d throw in a little extra for my birthday. H-he gave me free candy! What a top-tier guy.” Chef card talking about sensory issues, “Ugh,that slimy feeling when ground meat squelches between your fingers gives me the creeps!”

A line talking about the meat feeling again messing with his sensory issues.

As far as safe foods other than candy while he is picky on fruit he will eat it. In the Applepom event card he mentions buying dried fruit, “TA-DA! Here’s the dried fruit I bought at Kokko Market! I figured it’d be the perfect snack.” In the same event in chapter 2-2 he also states, “I only eat fruit if it’s canned or already sliced and peeled. But peeling this thing myself sounds like a chore…”

There is also his birthday interview about food,

“Thank you. So, what’s your favorite food? ” Idia , “…Snacks. They taste good, and are easy to eat while you’re gaming. Can you name a better combo? If I had to be more specific, I’d go with DIY candy kits, where you make candy sushi and such by mixing water into powder packets. It turns snacktime into a game! It’s easy to get totally absorbed, too. Whee hee hee. There’s something genuinely engaging about being able to change the shape and color yourself. It’s definitely not just for kids, okay?” I love this as a lore he stated because it fits into the idea of finding a way to introduce a food he would try: turn it into a game

Further sensory mentions with him hating raw fish in birthday boy, “Raw fish. It stinks, it’s lukewarm, it’s all slimy and clingy and sticky…”

In the same line from that card he actually talks further about how he feels about eating, “And who’s got time for food you need proper tableware to eat? That’s just a ton of pointless busywork for one lousy meal. Who cares how you get nutrients, as long as you get them? Just eat an energy bar with vitamins and minerals! Bam, EZ.”

This isn’t the only time he talks about wanting an easy way out of eating. In the chef card he described cooking as inefficient and mentions meal replacements. He did however seem open to at least try things if he could build basically a slowcooker that prepped the food along with cooking it.

As one more safe food- ramen seems to be okay. A chef card homescreen line states, “Weird. I was meant to be buying ingredients, but next thing you know I’ve got a new type of instant noodles in my hand. Guess I’ll add it to the collection.”

As a conclusion, I don’t think Idia would see this as a disorder. While his family is stated by him to be concerned including Ortho-

We can see his family has concerns that he knows of but I do not think he sees it as a literal disorder. He is in online gaming circles and really limited diets aren’t uncommon in them so they could also be normalized in his eyes. Along with being so isolated his whole life it isn’t far fetched to think he saw this as normal for a while as is. But I do also think he doesn’t want to be like this. He did, even if just for the credits, join the class and did try his best. He looked upset about Ortho being worried. He is one I don’t think he’ll eat everything under the sun even with the top of the line doctors. But I do think he will eventually work through and with accommodating himself find a few things he can handle and maybe even semi-enjoy.

ending notes: if i missed anything he said lemme know so i can edit/add. hopefully I made sense though thanks for reading my silly thing + reposted from my old account so I can link these HCs together I’m making

[btpbyalison]

It blows my mind that a week ago, I was eating sushi in my Louisville hotel reflecting on the previous pretty impactful 72 hours.

As I was physically preparing to go… Getting Jase lined up.  As his social secretary, I had forgotten how much I wrangled.  Poor Jason got a taste of that.  I had made sure Jason Squared was set up for success.  (BIG thanks to my girls Britney and Dea for making sure my absence wasn’t a freaking crater, but a mere hiccup).

I was also having a mental battle.  Imposter syndrome is a complete jerk.  It is a liar.  It is a thief.  And he’s loud and obnoxious.  So, I just kept repeating to myself, “You deserve to be there.”  Over and over.  Rinse and repeat.

After crashing at my grandparents, I made my way to Louisville, KY Saturday afternoon with high hopes for ImagingUSA.  As high as my hopes were, the results were bigger.  

I’ve been a little stuck for a bit.  There has never been a doubt photography had my heart and was what I was meant to be doing.  But, I knew there was more.  I needed a little oomph.  

I had been asked to teach.  I had been asked for mentorship.  And I couldn’t put my finger on what that would look like.

Every time I would brainstorm, an idea would come up.  I’d immediately be like, “I don’t want to do that.”

Another idea…nope.  “I don’t want to do that.”  

Everything was just muddy.  And there were days I was faking it until I made it.  Successfully, but I knew I had more to give.

Then I attended these classes.  Met new friends who were doing magical things all over the country.  And then some big ideas came.  💡!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥.  

I sat in these classes, learning from experts, and I heard things that I drilled into my branding clients.  And I got to pick these experts’ brains at the end of each class.  I heard encouragement.  I heard validation.  There was an instance,  I had actually said to one, “I don’t think I need to be teaching.”  About 20 minutes later I was chatting with a photographer who had been in my class. I was mentoring him.  Challenging him.  Then the teacher walked by, and he laughed, “Yeah.  You’re right.  You have no business teaching anyone.”  Sarcasm was dripping from his words.  That lit a fire in me that I cannot explain.

I have never been more clear on what I had to offer.  What made my heart sing.  How to make magic of my own continue to happen.

I’m so excited to reintroduce myself in the coming weeks.  Tweak my website with the help of the best in the business.  Provide resources to small businesses to keep thriving.  Walk beside my fellow business owners to make sure they have a winning brand.  And, of course, fall in love with new families, and continue capturing the stories of my current families.  

I’m so grateful to the rockstars who spoke truth over me on a regular basis.  Who called me on my nonsense.  I’m grateful to the local chickadee who recognized I had no business walking back to my hotel, and gave me a ride.  And made sure I knew I had someone if I needed them.  And I know that hasn’t changed now that I’m back in my Lou.

Business owners - find some time to get away.  Somewhere you can learn.  Be challenged.  Connect with those in the thick of it just like you.  There’s a quote I love by Jane Howard, “"Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one." And you deserve it.

Louisville is a fabulous place.  I can’t wait to get Jason Squared back for our own long weekend.  I loved seeing so much Kentucky Wildcat swag in Cards Country.  It made me giggle.  Folks were kind.  Food was fabulous.  And it was easy to navigate….which coming from me, says a lot.

I’m so grateful for the changes coming.  I’m ready to change some lives. 

Wake up. Praise Jesus. Shop Local. Repeat.

Here's my week in a nutshell #ImagingUSA

[hannahsmusings]

Renee

*I just stared blankly at Anthony as he ruined my entire plan, I couldn’t back out of it either since I just said I was going to go eat, knowing that if I changed my story, he’d know that I was 100% avoiding him and that would hurt his feelings plus make this whole tutoring thing way worse and super awkward, I couldn’t do that and potentially ruin his chances of graduating on time or at all* *I just nod as he asks if I still like sushi* Yeah… I still like sushi. *I throw my backpack over my shoulder, not knowing why I was actually about to agree to go off campus with Anthony, knowing I should’ve just told him that I was just going to get food to go from the student center cafe but I was apparently too fucking nice for my own good* Sushi sounds good. We can take my car. *I don’t give him a choice to offer up his car, knowing I needed to be the driver so I’d feel more in control, the time frames of the meal being on my watch and I could set the boundaries* *I walk with him out of the library, torn between regretting my decisions but also being slightly excited to spend time with him, wanting to know more about his life and his family and everything, part of me desperate to know this version of him* *we get to my car and I toss my bag in the back before climbing in the driver’s side, waiting for him to climb in before starting the engine and pulling out of the spot* You’ll have to give me directions… you’re not still awful with directions are you? Because if so, we can just use my phone. I’d prefer not to get super lost tonight. *I glance over at him with a knowing look before focusing back on the road as I pull out of the campus gates, Anthony used to make us go on walks in the woods behind our houses and everytime he swore he knew the way, but we got lost without fail every single time, Anthony being utterly useless back then when it came to finding his way, wondering if that’s changed at all now*

____________________________________

*I felt like I was holding my breath until you agree, face lighting up in a bright smile and feeling lighter than I had since we’d reconnected, eyes alight and so happy that we’d actually be able to talk about something other than biology* Great, you’ll love this place. They shove ginger with everything. *grins, remembering how you’d always love loads of pickled ginger with your sushi, all these little facts I remembered about you just showing how close we’d once been, feeling I knew you better than myself sometimes* *grabs my stuff and follows you out of the library, nodding ass you suggest your car* Sounds good. *I was clearly in good spirits after your agreement, practically skipping as I begin to ramble* Me and the team always come here, its so cheap and they do an all you can eat menu so for all of us it works out pennies. It’s sick. *chuckles, getting into your car and grinning* I see you upgraded. *raises a playful brow at you as I put my belt on, remembering your first little tiny car and laughing a little to myself, looking at you before gasping playfully as you tease about directions* Hey! I was never awful. Just a little confused sometimes. *shrugs with a grin before laughing a little* I know this place, don’t you worry. *smiles brightly at you before immediately jumping into the questions, desperate to learn as much new stuff about you as I could* So, whereabouts on campus do you live?

[love-and-bubbles]

I apologise if it seemed that I was demanding a response, I was just overthinking it because I wasn’t sure if I sent it to you or that I thought I did and I didn’t. Happens too many times.

It’s amazing how bodies are so different. Like you I can justgo wild with eating without having to worry because my size never changed. I never increase in size if I stuff myself with so much carbs like someone would do that they have to go crazy in the gym to get back in shape. Which I am thankful for, because I do not have the time and patience to do so. I think the older we get, our choices just becomes healthier, more conscious and responsible. I agree with the restrictions, in our house, there is always that abundance of food or that so much freedom, never restricted even if we barely had anything before. It’s a belief and upbringing i’ve got that food should never be restricted to anyone and should be given freely if we are in our house. It’s like, I can say no to everything but not food. Like you know what I mean?

The place where I am offers a lot of cheap restaurants with amazing quality food, I am not sure in your continent though because it’s Europe. I don’t know if it’s just me but if it’s something along the lines of Europe, it automatically means not cheap. lol. They’re definitely not very practical, I tell you. That’s where I have spent so much of my money. How was the sushi? I do not like sushi at all. I can never get its hype. Have you been to asia? we need to build that tolerance you’ve got. haha

Yeah, culture is just so interesting. It’s fascinating to think that nobody is just one thing from just one culture, we are all a bit of everything and we carry that through places we go and we share that to people we meet along the way. It’s a beautiful journey. I agree with the last part, wherever you go, they’re always one that makes you feel hmm, ya i like that, that feeling is mine now.

I could only wish to visit that places you’ve mention. You have seen so much of the world already, it’s intimidating to think about. Those places are absolutely a dream to see, it would be so different to the ones I have seen so far and it’s not that many. I guess though, it’s the perks of being on the same continent and a bit of UK and all that. You get to visit them very easily. If I were in europe, nobody would see me in one place for long, i’d always hop onto the next train and soak everything up like a sponge. It’s the opposite for me, I love the mountains though you’d never see me climbing on one. I am not too into the beaches as one of my houses is in front of the beach someone tropical so i’ve had enough of it. I have read TTS a long time ago. Such beautiful scenery, it makes me want to live like that too. Away from people and everything else that causes stress. I think in Harry’s words “don’t knock it ‘till you try it” basically what my dad said to me, try first before saying no. It would be amazing, no? To just see the other side.

I think there’s so much of europe as it is a continent on its own therefore it’s packed of everything it’s so hard to choose. You need to write and channel them. I could only wish I am as wordy as you and channel them into writing fictions too.

I am not a celebrity. god forbid. Nor am I famous in tumblr or one of those big accounts. My existence is a little quiet but maybe you’ve come across my blog somewhere sometime but never improtant, my account is basically just a place of my own soap opera and a pile of stress. lol

I agree about everything about fanfictions. There’s an endless supply and endless ways to write pining. And an endless amount of frustrations, happiness , and everything a roller coaster of emotions in fanfictions. It’s amazing, I am so glad there is this community built for the fans, by the fans. I have slowed down with smut now, I just want to read my own works without reading about the same two people having at it. Though, I wrote one recently with smut where I tried writing it as elegantly as I could. lol anyways.

It’s okay!! I have been busy too. And I still am, I haven’t been having the best year really, and the more we get to the end, just the worsts it gets. I just want to be a hermit and forget about everyone and everything else. Preferably live someone on those mountains in scotland where it’s so remote and away from people. I would just cut off social media and any connection and live life like that. That’s how it feels every day and the older I get, the more tempting it has become.

Can this just be your gift already? Just kidding. I actually had a different plan about my gift to you because I signed up on a whim where I was high spirited and when it finally comes down to writing, I was like shit, what have I gotten myself into. But all is well. I’ll make sure you’ll recieved it and feel the love. I already have the dates. hehe

Tell me more about yourself. xx

OMG I nearly deleted this ask accidentally. So I guess it's fair to say that we both are going a little crazy. And please don't apologize. No need to at all. It was actually a good reminder.

I get you when it comes to eating and restricting. Growing up quite poor food was not always a given in my family. Like we would make dandelion salad from literal dandelion leaves we picked ourselves. So sweets and treats were always really special. But on the up side it also helped me being okay with not always having and getting everything I wanted right way. And appreciating the little things (especially cake... I can never say no to cake). I have been a vegetarian since I am 14 and it never felt restrictive. I was quite strict but every few years, especially when travelling, I would eat some local speciality or something that I just wanted to experience. So if I really want to I will always do it. But then when starting university I became quite obsessed. I fell down the raw vegan rabbit hole quite badly. It got quite compulsive and at one point I realized I wasn't enjoying food anymore, and it had always been one of my favourite things. So I reflected a lot and slowly got myself back on track, being kinder to myself and living a little. And over the years I got to where I am now. I am still a vegan (I have watched too many documentaries to ever change that again) but I am also extremely creative in the kitchen and my food is always colourful, always fun, and always plenty. In fancy Europe (I mean it is expensive but we earn money that makes it affordable, less so in eastern Europe, in Hungary for example poverty rates are insane, I think politically every country in Europe still can improve a lot on, as we can all) we are blessed with an abundance of good vegan food alternatives and loads of fresh produce. I made an insanely cheesy vegan pasta bake the other day and it was not like weird tasting fake cheese taste but sooooo good. Sushi I am like Louis in that interview about tattoos with the red and green paddle. I used to be very much *red side* then I slowly turned to *green side* and now I absolutely love it *covers his hole body in tattoos*. I haven't been to Asia but I love Asian cuisine, the different cultures and the variety of the places. I had many flatmates from different Asian countries so I had my fair share of whatever they'd cook like home made kimchi (ok I nearly died eating that sooooo spicy). So yeah Asia is high on my to go list. Especially all island nations.

Reading your words is like sooooo beautiful. The way you talk about cultures and travelling and yes, that sounds about right. And your dad seems like a wise man. Please don't be intimidated because I have lived my life the way I have. I certainly haven't had your experiences. I didn't even go out there all the time like I wanna go and see all these places. Sometimes it just happens to me. And many people have stopped asking me about my life, for some of my family members it's because it's too wild for them to imagine, other's just wave me off because they can not compete with me when they tell me about their holiday. But it's not a competition. I have the highest admiration for my brother who found that small town and decided to settle down there and never leave. He rather builds a strong community around him than travel and that is amazing, something I might not have the persistence for. I love humans and their experiences and I want to hear everyone's stories on all the things all the time.

Scottish mountains are beautiful. And if you ever go there, there is a special place I could recommend. It feels like out of a fanfic. I mean the entirety of the Scottish countryside feels like out of a fanfic. Which is one of the things I love and value most about Europe, the history. The old castles and buildings of all the ages. When I lived abroad I was strangely missing it. When there are no 'old' train stations or mystical villages. Tropical Island sounds amazing though. Even if I would probably die in the heat in a second. And then it's not just the sea, it's the ocean. I miss the ocean and everything that lives in it.

As soon as I am allowed to know you stranger, I need to read that elegant smut of yours. I love that! After all we are serious writers. And I also love how we can see how we grow with our writing. How interests and priorities shift and perspectives broaden.

That 'I want to escape the world feeling' yeah I know that one. I just want to hide in my blanket all day and ignore that the world continues. I am sad to hear that your year has been a struggle. That's why fanfics and fandom drama sometimes are such a great escape. Everything a bit easier there. I believe the world would be a better place if we all slowed down a little. A little more 'let's watch this tomato plant grow every day' and less off 'you should really have done this by now'. When I was living like that I was my most at peace really, but also a little lonely at times. I hope that there are also beautiful things coming your way! Now I feel bad, because I had a great year, I got to see Harry and Louis. European privilege again. Did you get to see any of the boys? But I have to say I watched some Louis live streams from around the world curled up in my bed in the middle of the night, those are some of my favourite memories. That and me listening to the Harry's House leak lying in the sun in the botanical gardens every day after uni. It felt like a special gift from Harry. What are your favourite memories of this year so far? As I said I loooove hearing people's stories. Small windows into their lives.

I can't wait for the love! Hahahaha nah, this is already more than I feel like I should get out of nowhere like this. The way you write is so kind and just makes me happy reading it.

"Tell me more about yourself." - Why would you ask me this? I am both flattered and scared. But mostly excited. No body would ever just ask this. This might be the kindest thing anyone has ever said. Hahahaha oh well... if that doesn't say it all. But honestly such a nice way of interacting with people. You are quite amazing at conversation. Thank you for this and please also tell me more about yourself. Maybe something you just want to tell people or something you would like me to know?

Do you like vinyl? Because I think I am addicted.

Do you watch stupid (or less stupid) shows?

Or documentaries?

Like books?

Sports?

Animals?

Colours? And when yes where?

Art? What is your favourite way to express yourself?

Sunrise or sunset?

Past or future?

Who are you and who do you want to be?

[suna-reversed]

Hello :)

Sukuna. fluff. Pretty please.

Could you write something about sukuna falling for itadori's best friend. You can throw some angst in there too because I am a masochist❤️

Sukuna x F! Reader 

oh god, this turned purely self indulgent halfway through. low key thinking of turning this into a series to give you the angst you deserve.

A/N: (reader is Itadori’s senior and is 18) (loosely inspired by the song “me and my husband” by mitski)

“And I am the idiot with the painted face

In the corner, taking up space

But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved”

——-

- You had been one of the few poor senior students who had been victim to what had been Itadori’s “elevator pitch” for more people to join the occult club early back in high school. [the said “elevator pitch” being him jumping out at random people with a white bedsheet over his head saying “boo” as he handed you the club form]

- You didn't end up joining the club. But you somehow did end up getting joined at the hip with the chaotic mess under the white sheet.

- Whether it was you two rushing to the theatre to watch Jennifer Lawrence’s new movie,  or going to a revolving sushi place [only to get pocky from a nearby vending machine instead because revolving sushi is apparently expensive], Itadori Yuuji had become a comforting and very important presence in your life.

- So of course when he suddenly dropped out of your life, being the worried friend you were, you decided to poke around a little only to find out that he was...dead?

- Maybe a few months down the line, you would’ve started to slightly recover from the tragic news you had just gotten. Instead, what you got was your supposedly dead best friend popping up days later to tell you that he ate a finger and now he was the vessel for some centuries old curse,,,

- Um yeah...safe to say that Yuji did not expect you to go into the fit of emotions that you did [boy had the audacity to call you dramatic for fainting and then crying while hugging him once you gained consciousness] 

- some time passed and Yuji and you didn’t see each other much with him practically training to be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Still, simply happy to have him back alive, your brain managed to convinced itself that everything was still the same. 

- And it was when he’d sneak out a day or two from his heavy schedule and you’d be back to your normal routine of watching movies, stuffing your face with snacks, getting your face licked by the mouth on Yuji’s hand…

- ,,,wait what

- The first time the curse had made contact with you was simply out of annoyance of why the stupid brat even took the time to see someone as mundane as you so often.

- His plan was to simply scare you into leaving, knowing it would cause the brat pain.

- So he grabbed the opportunity when Yuji moved forward to brush off some popcorn dust on the side of your mouth, not only licking the side of your face but also being successful in slightly grazing his teeth against your tender skin. 

- Yuji had mentioned that being a vessel had caused some weird physical “abnormalities” for him. you didn’t understand it back then but at least knowing that had sort of prepared you for such an instance.

- So imagine the curse’s surprise [and an even further growing annoyance] when your eyes barely widened for a second before you burst into laugher, 

“Didn’t you train your dog to not bite?”

- by now, Yuji had jumped 5 feet away from you and was still halfway through his string of apologies, but upon hearing your reaction, he mused on your fake calm while letting out a chuckle himself, 

- “Guess I’ve got to get a leash for him” 

- By this point, the ever so indifferent curse had taken two teenagers talking about him like a mere annoyance as a personal challenge.

- And that’s how it started.

- He’d come out every now and then, licking your fingers as Yuji passed you something or making lewd remarks on anything and everything that you ever started a conversation about. 

- But you and Yuji barely paid him attention and it was an understatement to say that it infuriated the living hell out of him.

- Particularly you, who wouldn’t even be annoyed or sarcastic about his tactics anymore. Instead, treating him like a friend who was simply joining you and the brat to hang out. 

- He hated it. Hated how bright your laugh was. Hated how you made them stop every time you saw a stray animal just so you could pet it. Hated how your skin was as soft as a cloud and how you sometimes smelled like cherry blossoms. He’d kill you in an instant if he could ugh.

- it was a weekend and Yuji and you had been watching a movie, even though Yuji was barely paying attention. You knew he was tired as his large frame slumped over your shoulder. Pulling the blanket up to his face, you once again felt the wet feeling of the assaults you had grown familiar with on the side of your hand.

- “You could’ve just asked for a pocky if you wanted one, no need to lick it off my fingers you grumpy little thing”, you laughed as you stood up to go to the bathroom

- that snapped the final string. 

- Coming back into your living room, you wondered if Yuji had somehow gotten up in his sleep and managed to draw weird black lines over himself all in the span of 5 minutes. 

- ‘Yuji, what the fuck?’

- ‘Well well, now who’s acting like a grumpy little thing’ 

- The deep voice sent rumbles down your spine and you knew in an instant what had happened. 

- Even though your breath hitched in your throat and your body begged for you to run as fast away as you can, you held your ground as you simply tilted your head at the curse 

- “Well, I’d like my best friend back if you don’t mind.”

- You saw the smirk on Sukuna’s face falter for just a second before he crossed the space between the couch and you.

- Now as strong of a front as you managed to hold up until now, watching something like that stride straight towards you would have had even the strongest of sorcerers shitting bricks.

- Instinctively, you took a few steps backwards, but he simply continued to close the distance between the two of you until you were backed up against the wall.

- You flinched as he slammed a hand right next to your head and he seemed to gain immense satisfaction from that as he looked down at your startled face with a smirk plastered on his tattooed face. 

- Sukuna was sure that you’d be begging for his mercy any second now. His smirk widened and he was ready to mock your pleas as he saw you open your mouth to say something, 

- “ ...so much for a damn pocky.”

- All those other times you had caught the curse off guard were nothing compared to the “partially-confused partially-baffled” expression that he held on his face now. It almost made him look human. Almost.

- You didn’t realise just how long you were holding his gaze until Yuji took back control and apologized like a million times over, reassuring you that he would’ve never let you get hurt. 

- The curse didn’t show up for almost a week after that. And while you were grateful for not having to wash off your hands or face 14 times a day, you somehow felt anxious about its sudden disappearance. 

- All those worries were thrown out the window as he once again showed up while Yuji was passed out on the couch after a particularly tough session with Gojo sensei.

- Looking at the curse, you felt anger more than anything, how could he just drop out on you with no warning and then show up in the middle of your living room- ...wait a second, why the hell are you mad at a literal curse for not telling you he was taking a mental health break or whatever it was that he was doing? 

- While you sorted out through these conflicting thoughts in your mind, the curse seemed to be going through a similar crisis. 

- Having woken up in the brat’s fragile human body with no warning whatsoever, Sukuna wasn’t in the mood to see your face so soon again. He didn’t know why your physical presence unsettled him so much. All he knew was that he hated it. Even more now that he knew what you looked like all scared and small compared to his vessel’s towering build, and how you smelled even sweeter than what he had tasted, and how despite all that you still had the courage to stand up to someone as dangerous as him. Ugh, disgusting. 

- “The stupid brat passed out.”

- Such a simple statement caused you to snap your head up at him. But he didn’t wait for your reaction as he somehow managed to plop down on the couch while still looking graceful. Picking up the half eaten box of pocky, he warily pulled one out, eyeing it as if it was  a poisoned dagger before breaking off a piece and placing it on his tongue.

- “This is what you would risk your life for, brat?” 

- He turned his head slightly to look at you still frozen in place, staring at him with that doe eyed look that made his chest burn a little. Isn’t this what he wanted all along?

- “Are you simply going to stand there and gawk? I don’t bite-...well, not unless you ask me to.”

- He knew that would set you right back to your usual self,

 - “...maybe we do need to get a leash after all.”

- Sukuna internally grinned as he saw you move to the other side of the couch, ready to hear whatever more of the snarky comeback that you’d have (not that he was anticipating it, it was just the better alternative to being gaped at. Or so he told himself)

- “You ate the non chocolate covered part of the pocky by the way-”

- “As if a layer of this disgusting brown substance can make the rotten stick taste bette-”

- “Well aren’t sticks all you had to eat in yOuR TiME anyways?”- 

—-

- You somehow managed to fall asleep after the bickering, proceeding to sit in silence after you told him to not bother you while you tried to read. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were a little disappointed when he actually didn’t. Instead, he sat on the couch with a slight smirk still plastered on his face, continuing to simply gaze at you. your heart did lunges every time you slyly looked up from your book to take a peak at him. you wondered how many ways he had come up with to kill you so far. 

- On the other hand, the curse sat idly, watching you while his thoughts rumbled in his mind. Maybe killing you can be pushed off the agenda for now. There are much better ways to hurt the brat anyways aren't there? Perhaps he could use one of these brownish covered sticks to-...what is he thinking?

- He ultimately deems it stupid brat’s humane emotions and sheer stupidity that must be interfering with his thoughts.

- A loud sneeze snaps him out of his daze as he sees you slumped against a pillow, your book falling off your lap. And then he does something that he immediately decides that he would pretend to have not done for the rest of his existence. Luckily, the brat takes back control right after he does it anyways.

- But that thought slips his mind as he finds himself replaying the serene look on your face as he gently pulled the book out of your hands, and how his hands shook a little as you nuzzled your nose into the fabric of the blanket that he pulled over you. How could you have felt so calm around him?