#feel free to ignore this lol...

[egodoll]

hi... gem (@rottensdoll & @kissedprint) again... reposting my intros since tumblr hates mine amd my muses' asses and forced me to move blogs! if you're seeing this post for the first time, feel free to leave a 🩷 and ill message u to plot—discord and ims r both ok! if ur seeing this again... PLEASE IGNORE THIS im embarrassed 🩷 ok lets get into it (again!)

i. history

shin doah is an only child. born to parents who tried for years and years to conceive, she was considered their miracle baby.

since she was their miracle baby, she was spoiled. endlessly. she was spoiled with affection, gifts, praise, you name it. if doah wanted it, she got it.

the downside of being the spoiled only child was that doah ended up carrying the weight of her parents’ expectations all by herself. poor little spoiled rich girl ik! but they really had big expectations for her, and the pressure doah felt to succeed was almost suffocating. she was very attached to her parents, so the fear of disappointing them really was terrifying.

spoiled as fuck + constant pressure to make her parents proud = doah’s a perfectionist who thinks she should deserves to get everything she wants and won't rest until she gets exactly what she wants.

her parents weren’t really good at setting her up for failure either. they never sat her down and told her it’s ok if u fail! u can try again! ur not gonna be good at everything!

instead they pressured her to do well and kind of planted the idea in her head that she’s a star! she deserves to get whatever she wants! put a huge emphasis on the family name and that her success is their success... that u should always succeed on the first try... that u cant embarrass us or tarnish the family name... etc etc etc etc...

they weren’t mean? they were loving but like. very critical when she didnt do things well. very quick to express their disappointment. n doah really didnt like how that felt, so now its a fear she still carries despite being a grown ass woman!

so… doah was raised to be spoiled, obnoxious, a perfectionist, and deeply afraid of letting her parents down. yay!

since she was never really taught that failure is ok, she never learned how to accept failure. not knowing how to accept failure has led to her learning to scheme and play dirty to make sure she succeeds

ii. personality

allow me to share a doah moodboard so u can really understand her vibe:

personality-wise, doah’s very. obnoxious. dramatic. annoying as fuck. has a very short temper and gets offended very easily. starts a lot of petty arguments that she cant finish bc she gets offended over the dumbest shit. can dish it out but she can’t take it. she’s a girl of extremes, basically. a bit comically vain

very much inspired by the likes of blair waldorf and cassie howard… brooke davis and summer roberts too? every 00s icon basically…

as mentioned above… doah grew up coddled and spoiled by her parents, and it shows through her personality. she was raised to believe she can and should have everything she wants, that she can and should be loved and worshipped by everyone… so she kind of excepts it, and definitely doesn’t like it when that’s not the case

i think training in such a cutthroat environment like midas made doah…  insecure? not that she ever really lets it show, but it did foster some anxiety and insecurity within her that she really isn’t sure how to deal with.. especially when she already has such an overwhelming fear of letting her parents down. definitely overcompensates for it with that comical vanity — but there are plenty of moments where it shines through, like her competitiveness with her fellow members and how easily defensive & dramatic she can be at even the slightest criticism

as a trainee and during her first few years in haute pink, she sometimes schemed to get her way but overall, she worked hard to earn her position as midas’ favorite, but now that she’s lost that title… she’s grown bitter, petty, vengeful… now she just… doesn’t really care about playing nice? she just wants to be on top again, and she’ll do what it takes to get back on top

the members themselves have probably noticed the lack of effort she puts into group activities in comparison to the effort she gives her solo activities, and she’s definitely a little more difficult to work with now that she’s harboring so much resentment and bitterness. she’s rly become a lot more selfish now that she’s lost her title as the favorite — not that she was ever really selfless (she wasnt!), but now she’s stopped caring about playing nice

that being said, she is usually a pro at playing nice in front of the cameras. probably to the point that it pisses off the other haute pink members bc she’s just so fake in those moments… but she’s a natural entertainer, so it’s easy for her to play nice with the girls (or with anyone she has an issue with) when her individual reputation is at stake

ok but she does have a heart! she’s actually quite the softie when she gets close to u… whether that’s romantically or platonically, she really can be a softie. she has a very deep desire for love in all forms… and ik ur saying “but her parents love her” AND OK YES BUT she was so spoiled as a kid and was taught that she deserves everything… was always told that one day she’s gonna be the brightest star in the universe and have a fairytale romance like her parents… so shes desperate to make that come true, is very desperate for that love and admiration. shes also a bit childish if u cant tell… really never grew up that much

but when she’s close to u… she’s a softie! very bubbly, very charismatic, shes a girly girl and while shes definitely… got her issues with seeing other women as competition (BLAME MIDAS!!!), she would be a ride or die for any girl that managed to break down her walls tbh

despite her many, many, many flaws, doah really and truly is someone who just desperately wants to be loved. though she was spoiled endlessly by her parents, she was also undermined and criticized a lot of the time (and constantly reminded that she had to make them proud as the only child), which made her desperate for validation. this was only made worse by the insecurities that blossomed during her time in haute pink, so she’s rly just desperate to be loved. she’s sensitive and, to the right people, she can be loving and fiercely loyal — but the competitive training environment has hardened her, so her soft side is reserved for only the people closest to her

honestly idk she’s very annoying but she’s also very cute and fun like i like to describe her personality as sweet and sour! bc thats what she is! shes like sour candy… first shes sour then shes sweet 🩷

iii. career & image

has been exploring the variety scene for a bit, and loves it — due to her overdramatic and comically vain nature, she’s a hit on variety shows! she’s not rly afraid to act silly or extra for screentime, and she’s got a persona similar to lee mijoo’s (aka i stole her entire career for doah.. sry mijoo) bit of a gen z icon for how dramatic and extra she is, and for the fact that she very shamelessly flirts with male idols…  but not in a cool, sexy, sirenlike way like miss chaea — it’s all very silly and light and ridiculous and over the top, and over the top is what doah does best!

her image is quintessential haute pink, wears the barbie branding super well. very bright, playful, summery, hyperfeminine… most of her solo work has been very "malibu barbie" coded... this has resulted in ppl thinking this proves her importance as a haute pink member, while others think it proves doah isnt capable of bringing anything of her own to the table

cutie-sexy image, sexualized in a way that u can only see it if u squint... i dont think doah really notices it but she also probably wouldnt care because she likes attention... so

has a male fandom similar to chaewon... liked by men a lot because she's very cute and playful and approachable... so they're a bit crazy about doah LMAO but i also imagine her having fans that hide behind a pfp of her face to live out their mean girl fantasies

iv. wcs

party friends… surface-level friends, catty friendships… all of those would suit doah very well? like i said, she’s inspired loosely by blair waldorf so she’s definitely the type to go shopping w u or invite u for a sleepover even tho she was just talking shit about u 5 mins ago

i would love a close friend who brings out that softer, fiercely loyal side though

a friend who calls her out on her bs would be fun!!! but it cant be someone in haute pink bc she WONT listen to u im sorry

exes… i would like a messy ex or an ex on good terms? an ex who fucking hates her and think she’s a bit crazy or an ex who puts up with all her bullshit despite them being broken up… she’s def the type to call her exes at 3am (or show up to their houses at 3am…) to whine about a problem and theyre just like… doah… We broke up three months ago

flirtationships maybe idk if anyone would even want her like that like god shes annoying… drunk hookups that shes embarrassed about n if they try to remind her abt the fact they hooked up she plays dumb. “ive never even seen u before in my LIFE”

ppl who have seen her drunk and emotional but once again she acts like shes never seen them before in their life (then she shows up drunk on their doorstep at 4am crying about her parents or how midas hates her now… omg… shut her up)

someone who likes her dramatics n gets under her skin on purpose would be fun

enemies n ppl who just hate her bc she deserves it

if u have variety claims, hmu? maybe we can work out something there

[userparamore]

#someone get this man his glasses 🥸🤨

[essenceofarda]

Sometimes a family is an elf, a dwarf, and the human orphan infant they find amongst the rubble after the Battle of the Pelennor Fields,, whom they decide to raise together,, 🥹

Anyway, yeah! Introducing Gigolas' daughter 👧🏻

(I still need to figure out her name--I want something that is a blend of dwarven and elvish, so suggestions from those more knowledgable about tolkien's languages/etc would be super appreciated! Also I have SO many fanart ideas for this lil' family, idk, let me know if you wanna see more art of them 🤩🥰)

[sheprd]

took a crack at my own interpretation of grimmjow's second resurrection form from the mobile game.

[chiscribbs]

"That has to mean something, right? It can't just be a coincidence that it happened twice! Oh, sweet, sweet confirmation!"

Don has chanced upon an exciting revelation at the TMNT AU Competition! (feat. @beannary's The Little Prince AU)

Grown Apart AU: [Premise/Concept Art] [General tag]

***Note: This takes place sometime after the fight (which is still currently going on). Also, yes - Donnie "lost" his name tag at some point...and April.***

<<PREV / NEXT>>

[percyweasleyapologist]

WHYYYYY

WHY DOES EVERYONE FEEL THE NEED TO MAKE ANYTHING RELATED TO A SHIP INVOLVING A MEMBER OF WOLFSTAR OR JEGULUS- ABOUT WOLFSTAR OR JEGULUS???

like... please... let me enjoy this rare-pair without you insisting that it cannot be romantic because "what about their partners?"

urghhh

this was prompted by a TikTok cosplay about moon water and I went to the comments and there were SO many like this.

Like imagine someone doing this on a jegulus video?? imagine they were like "oh damn, James is doing this to get back at Lily" or "omg they're such good PLATONIC friends" or even "nope nope nope, where is Jily?? I just know James was thinking about Lily the whole time"

LIKE WHAT???

what happened to basic respect or fandom etiquette??? be nice!! respect ships!! Huh?!?!?!?!

sighhhh

here's what I was talking about if yall want:

[turtleblogatlast]

One of the earliest examples of Leo’s “I’ll do my own thing to accomplish our goal without discussing it with my team first” is in episode one. It’s super, super quick, and ultimately inconsequential, but it subtly sets up a great precedent that I think is very interesting.

When the boys need to grab the medallion from Splinter without Splinter noticing, Raph, Mikey, and Donnie huddle together with Raph taking the lead in trying to devise a plan to get the mystic device. Meanwhile, Leo slinks away and grabs the device by clocking the situation (by knowing his father well enough to predict his actions - something he does with each family member multiple times in the series) and making a move on his own.

It works out perfectly fine, and is ultimately the best move, and it’s honestly okay that he didn’t consult everyone for something so small when it’s such a non issue to get it, but it nicely sets up how this tends to go in the series, including how it goes in the movie.

To be honest episode one is actually really good at setting up a lot of things for each character in the long run, this is just one example that caught my attention, as small and unassuming as it is.

[enigmaticagentalice]

Unwelcome Tagalong

Thedas is at war. The Conclave is destroyed. Divine Justinia is dead, and with her, the world’s last hope for peace. Until out of the ashes stumbles a lone survivor…

“The two of us are the only people who don’t believe this whole ‘Herald of Andraste’ bullshit.’ Cassandra said nothing. Varric rounded on her, horrified. “You’re kidding! Seeker, tell me you don’t—” “What better explanation do you have, Varric?” she replied, voice sharp and defensive. “Anything! Any explanation is better! I am not anyone’s saviour. This mark is just...just some shiny shit from the Fade.”

He’s not the hero they expected. He’s definitely not the hero they wanted. But Varric Tethras, Herald of Andraste, might just be the hero they’re all stuck with.

Oh well. At least it’ll make for a good story.

read the fic here :)

[ruvviks]

to celebrate nearly three years of posting about these bozos, have the clown brigade in all their glory (please for the love of god click for better quality)! bios are in order of the individual pictures! vincent "v" mayer [he/him] >> the living legend of the afterlife. a resourceful and skilled merc working for vitali dobrynin and many other fixers in night city vitali dobrynin [he/him] >> a high profile fixer from wellsprings, and v's partner. offers high risk / high reward gigs and is well known for joining his mercs on the job cato wu [she/her] >> one of kang tao's most wanted. becomes head of security for vitali after mikhail koshechkin steps down from the role shiro nakano [he/him] >> ex arasaka security turned assassin and security expert. handles vitali's most dangerous assassination gigs huxley byrne [she/they] >> skilled gunner and (getaway) driver. used to run with the moxes before becoming one of vitali's most trusted eddie wolfe [he/they] >> ex bouncer turned mercenary. handles most bodyguard-type gigs at vitali's office and provides on-site security lauren dimas [she/her] >> a skilled netrunner and techie from t-bug's circle. has known vitali since college and handles all of his office's cybersecurity mikhail koshechkin [he/him] >> vitali's ex head of security and main medic at his office. regularly tags along on gigs when no one else is available thibault lajoie [he/they/xe] >> ex doll turned mercenary. specializes in stealth operations and provides on-site security with eddie wolfe

taglist (opt in/out)

@nistarot, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @mojaves;

@shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption, @ncytiri;

@calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @faithchel, @radioactiveshitstorm, @strafethesesinners;

@fashionablyfyrdraaca, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian, @estevnys, @devilbrakers;

@aezyrraesh, @carlosoliveiraa, @adelaidedrubman, @fromgotham, @wardenevka;

@samuraifics

[dootznbootz]

My childhood friend said that my Odysseus looks like a mix of Chappell Roan and Griffith from Berserk and that thought is killing me. It's too correct.

(Lovely doodle of my boy courtesy of the wonderful fellow trashcat @thehelplessmortals :3 )

[honeydewtual]

now you'll never fly away, my little bird

[nanihirunkits]

Didn’t you diplomatically downgrade our relationship? Well, exceptions can be made when the foreign policy of the negotiating partner is tempting. Then let’s ramp up our international relations, shall we?

HIDDEN AGENDA | EP10

[tyquu]

me whenj i.. me when i take my existing ocs and i put them in star wars ,,, hjpfdn

[misiahasahardname]

finds character i relate to immensely, immediately starts projecting

[perotovar]

psd pack #1 by perotovar

i saw @heroeddiemunson show the difference between their gifs edited vs unedited and it made me wanna do the same! i have a few psds that i cycle through depending on the scene and figured i'd share them with anyone that was interested!

if enough people are interested, i might do a second batch of some fancier/more experimental coloring 👀

they're pretty basic for this first batch, but they can be decently customized for a lot of things. i obviously can't make a universal psd but i can certainly try to cover the basics lol

psd links under the cut! please like or reblog if you use!

you can have all of them in a pack -> here &lt;-

or individually:

base

blue scenes (there's 3 versions within the psd)

foggy scenes

dark scenes

yellow scenes

day scenes

ezra

[heich0e]

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical traits, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

And a week after that terrible storm, Megumi pulls on his coat, locks up the clinic for the night, and heads to the nearby izakaya.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know her.”

Megumi deflates a little, leaning forward onto his elbows atop the service counter at the izakaya. The young man behind the bar looks sincerely apologetic that he can’t be of more help to him, a remorseful frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

“That’s fine,” Megumi says, smothering his burgeoning disappointment as best he can—blanketing it in a familiar air of indifference. “It was years ago.”

He’d asked for you when he arrived at the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, having weaselled your family name out of Yuuji who’d in turn pressed Nanami for it—the elder man deeming a simple name suitably fair to share since it wasn’t particularly personal information, not least of all because he’s seemingly incapable of denying Yuuji anything he asks for. But the server who Megumi approached when he first arrived at the neighbourhood izakaya, the same establishment he’d visited with the old man all those years ago that hasn’t changed a bit since that day, didn’t seem to have any knowledge of you ever working there.

“I’ve only been here for a year,” the young man says, ruffling the back of his cropped hair sheepishly and glancing down the bar in the direction of the busy kitchen. “I could ask around, though? See if someone—”

“No, that’s alright,” Megumi cuts him off, bowing stiffly in his direction with his arms pinned down at his sides. “You’ve done more than enough. Thank you for your time.”

Megumi swiftly turns and heads in the direction of the door, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The izakaya is noisy around him as he crosses the restaurant towards the exit, full of people unwinding after a long day of work, sharing food and drinks and talking too loudly just to be heard over the cacophonous din. He’s never really liked the overly-boisterous atmosphere of these kinds of places, which is why he’s always preferred to drink at home—but every so often Yuuji or Nobara manages to draw him into an evening out at bars just like this one.

The man just wants to get back to his little apartment where he can enjoy some peace and quiet, and nurse the nagging feeling of disappointment he feels prickling in his hollow chest.

He’s only a few doors up the road from the building, making his way back in the direction of home, when he hears a ruckus behind him.

“Excuse me!… Excuse me, sir!”

Megumi pauses in his stride and glances back over his shoulder in the direction of the shouting, only to see the young man from behind the bar racing up the sidewalk towards him with his apron strings flapping in his haste. He’s a little winded by the time he reaches Megumi, hunching forward with his hands braced on his thighs atop the overhang of his apron as he struggles to catch his breath.

“The cook… said…” 

Megumi can barely understand what the boy is trying to say to him. He’s a little concerned by how out of breath he is, too. After a few more seconds of panting heavily, the young man looks up. 

“The cook said he knew her. The girl you’re looking for.”

Megumi’s eyes widen, his stomach doing an unpleasant little somersault in his core.

The server stands up straight, swallowing thickly. He’s more composed now after his sprint. He gives Megumi your name, your full name—both given and family—and Megumi recognizes it. “He said a student with that name worked here a few years ago, but she left when she got pregnant.”

Megumi’s hands clench into fists in the pockets of his coat.

The young man looks a bit sheepish. “I hope this helps. I don’t know if you remember, but you took good care of my family’s dog a few years ago at your clinic. I… wanted to repay you.” He bows earnestly in the vets direction, a full bend at his waist.

Megumi thinks he might vaguely remember him, though his hair was longer, he didn’t have the piercings in his ears, and his cheeks were rounder with baby fat back then. “Shino-kun?”

The boy lifts his head and nods eagerly, perking up at the recognition. 

His family had an inordinately rotund dachshund named Vienna. Like the sausage. 

“Thank you for your help,” Megumi says to him, and he means it. 

Shino nods in recognition of the thanks.

Megumi moves to leave, but pauses. “The cook… does he have her contact info?” 

The boy shakes his head, and Megumi feels that same flare of disappointment swell with renewed vigour, staring down at his feet on the pavement as he tries not to let it show. He supposes it would be strange to get that kind of information from him anyway. For all intents and purposes, he’s just some stranger trying to track a woman down, who in their right mind would—

“He said the last he heard she was working at the family restaurant a few blocks away, near the park—”

Megumi’s eyes snap up towards the server again.

“—do you know the one?” 

Yes. He does.

The old man used to take him there sometimes for lunch when he was still working at the clinic, because Megumi had a tendency to skip his midday meal. The waitresses all knew the old man by name, and he’d told Megumi that he and his wife had their first date in that very restaurant decades prior. It’s an ancient little spot that’s been there for far longer than Megumi’s lived in the neighbourhood. 

And he just so happens to have to pass it on his way back home.

The neon sign that hangs over the old family restaurant paints the evening street in its glow as Megumi stands outside the diner.

It’s late; encroaching on an hour that Nobara would affectionately call ‘past his bedtime’ since Megumi tends as a matter of habit to be a man who’s early to bed and early to rise. But regardless of the hour, Megumi can’t seem to make his feet carry him any further. Neither back to his home, nor through the business’s door.

Through one of the windows, past the reflective fluorescence from the lights outside, he sees you.

You’re standing at a table by the window, chatting with a couple whose meal you’ve just served. You have a smile on your face, but it’s not quite the smile that Megumi remembers—neither as bright, nor as carefree as the one in his memory. You don’t look the same either.

You’re older than you were back then—though certainly still not old by any means—but he supposes that’s only natural given how much time has passed since that first night he met you. He didn’t look at you properly that night you came to the clinic. Didn’t take the time to really observe you. All he can really remember is how soaking wet you were, and how you didn’t want to meet his gaze.

You meet it now.

You catch sight of him through the window just before you leave your patrons to enjoy their meal, and even from a distance Megumi can see the way your expression changes. He can see how startled you look as you catch sight of him.

You’re not wrong to look surprised, and he can’t help but blame you. He’s some man you’ve met twice now, the instances half a decade apart, who’s managed to track down your place of employment. But at the same time, Megumi can’t help but think that there’s a greater anxiety that underlies your wide-eyed expression—a more considerable fear that’s palpable, even from so far away.

You appear outside, wrapped up in a puffy jacket, a few minutes later.

“Hello, Fushiguro-san,” you greet him quietly, bowing a bit awkwardly in his direction.

He returns the greeting with your own name, and you look surprised that he knows it.

“What brings you here at this time of night?”

“Where’s Kota?” Megumi ignores your question in favour of one of his own.

Your lips pull into a thin line at the mention of your son.

“The obaachan who lives next door to us watches Kota when I work nights,” you say, and your tone is colder now. Sharpened like a blade you wield in defence.

An unpleasant silence wraps around you both, the discomfort and the tension of it nipping at your heels and urging you to run.

“That’s a lot of work for an old woman.”

“She’s happy to do it. Her children have all moved away,” you seem to only very narrowly be keeping resentment from your shaking voice.

“Why doesn’t Kota’s father watch him?” Megumi asks, and his gaze is level and unyielding as it meets your own.

Your jaw sets, and a flare of something white-hot and protective kindles behind your eyes. 

“He can’t.”

A car passes on the street behind Megumi, but neither of you pay it any mind.

“Why?"

“He’s busy.”

“Too busy to take care of his own child?” Megumi isn’t trying to sound so angry, but the emotion makes itself known in his voice without even trying. He doesn’t mean to antagonize you like this. It’s not what he came here to do. But he can’t seem to force himself to be direct with you.

“Yes.”

“Doing what?” Megumi presses again, unrelenting in his pursuit.

“Drop it,” you tell him warningly, hissing the caution through your teeth.

He doesn’t heed your words.

“Where is Kota’s father?” he asks one final time, and it’s the question that makes the fraying thread of your patience finally snap.

“Bothering me outside my place of work,” you hiss, your eyes narrowed and resentful. “Is that what you came here for? Are you happy now?”

Happy?

Megumi feels sick to his stomach, an almighty fwoosh wracking through him that makes him go week at the knees and threatens to make him heave up the meagre contents of his stomach in front of you, and this street, and anyone who has the misfortune of a window seat in the diner behind you. But he feels worse still when he sees the way tears are welling quickly in your eyes. When he spots the way you’re trembling.

You’re frightened.

Of him.

“Please,” you soften noticeably before his eyes, like he watches all your will to fight with him abandon you in real time. The deflation leaves you desperate when you speak again, crumpling in on yourself. You step up to him slightly, grabbing the sleeve of his coat as you plead to him. “Just go. Forget this ever happened. I don’t want anything from you. We don’t want anything from you. I-I take good care of him; he’s happy and healthy and we’re fine. I’m sorry that you found out like this, but I promise if you just leave now you don’t ever have to think of him—things can go back to how they were, and I’ll make sure we never cross paths again.”

Megumi tastes bile creeping up at the back of his too-tight throat, and his vision has gone fuzzy at the edges like he’s watching everything unfold through a tunnel.

All he can think about it the little boy with the bunny hidden under his raincoat. The racoon on his sweatshirt. The way he clung to him in his sleep.

“He’s my son?”

You pause, still holding tight to Megumi’s coat sleeve.

“Yes,” you reply quietly. “He is.”

He searches your face for any sign of duplicity, but he knows the truth. He knew it before you said it. Knew it from the moment he woke up in that cold sweat.

“You’re certain?”

He doesn’t pose the question with any ill-intent. Hardly conscious of the fact he’s asking it at all, or what the implications of such a question might be.

You flinch anyway.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Another car passes.

“He’s my son.” This time it’s not a question, but the words are brittle and breathless as Megumi speaks them. His chest aches, his head is pounding.

You’re still clutching his sleeve.

From behind you, at the corner of the building that leads to a narrow alley, a man in a stained apron with a cigarette in his hand calls your name. You whirl around in surprise.

“Break’s over!” he calls to you with a hand clasped around his mouth. He eyes you and Megumi warily, as though assessing whether or not he needs to intervene.

“Coming!” you call back to him with a blatantly forced chipper tone, waving at him with a strained smile on your face.

You turn back to Megumi, and let his sleeve slip from your grasp. The fake smile withers slowly until it disappears altogether.

“Please,” you repeat to him one last time, quieter now that the line cook is still lingering nearby, but no less desperate. “Just forget about this. About us.”

You turn to head back towards the restaurant, and Megumi lets you go.

Until he doesn’t.

“Wait.”

You freeze, but you don’t turn to face him again. He can see the way you hold yourself around your midsection, your shoulders slightly hunched forward like you’re bracing yourself for something.

“Come to the clinic tomorrow.”

“I work tomorrow.”

“Then come before you work. Or after,” Megumi can’t help but sound irritated at your refusal. He has a right to ask you more questions. To get more answers.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and you look wary.

“Kota goes to daycare at 8. It’s not far,” you say, though your tone is reluctant. “I can come just after that.”

The clinic doesn’t open until 9, so that works for him.

He nods curtly in agreement, and then you do the same.

The cook calls your name again.

You step towards the restaurant.

“The bunny’s doing well.”

You pause in your stride and turn back to Megumi with a look of surprise on your face—the most open, and least defensive expression he’s seen since the two of you began speaking.

Megumi struggles to meet your gaze now, and looks away briefly. He stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“You can… tell Kota that. If you want.” He glances fleetingly towards you, just in time to see the ghost of a smile flicker at he corner of your lips.

“I will,” you reply quietly. “He’ll be happy to hear that. Thank you, Fushiguro-san.”

Megumi watches as you skitter back towards the restaurant, bowing apologetically to the cook as you head quickly down the alley towards what Megumi can only assume is the staff entrance.

He turns on his heel on the sidewalk and heads in the direction of home, ignoring the gaze of your colleague as he walks away.

A son.

He has a son.

A little boy who looks just like him.

A little boy named Kota.

Megumi still feels sick, and his head is spiralling with a hundred questions he can’t begin to understand how to parse through in a coherent way. A hundred things he never dreamed he’d need to know. Never wanted to.

But he’ll see you tomorrow at 8AM, so as long as he makes sense of at least a few of the unintelligible questions running through his mind by then, he’ll finally have the chance to get some answers.