#sushi is a good mama

[sungolden-honey]

[blake-wyatt]

"I think I understand a whole lot better than you."

No but listen! Before the Beginning, Crowley was the naive optimist who thought he could just ... knock on God's door and say "Hey Boss, maybe destroying everything after a mere 6k years is a Really Bad Idea!"

And Aziraphale, Aziraphale, understands the danger even then - that fear of Heaven, of God, has already taken root inside him before there was ever a Fall, ever a War. He understands more than Crowley that questioning is unwise, that even a suggestion of mercy is heretic.

Aziraphale has always understood what the stakes were and gambled his soul on them anyway. He lies to God to protect Eve's unborn child. He lies to the Archangels to spare Job's children. And like Crowley did 6000 years prior, he knocks on God's door to tell Her hey maybe the end of the world is Not a Really Good Idea.

In S1 we think it's because Aziraphale doesn't believe this is what God wants, but he'd seen Her plans from the Beginning. He knows that's what She wanted. And yet, when all is lost, he does what Crowley did, Before: tries to suggest a better solution to the Almighty Herself. He takes the risk. He knows Crowley fell for it. He does it anyway.

He understands what Heaven is offering him, maybe better than Crowley does. But he's lived in fear of retribution since before there was ever a retribution, and maybe what he's learned from Crowley is that sometimes taking a leap is worth it. Even when the impact of the fall hurts, getting the chance to try, to ask, to suggest - is brave, and beautiful, and what Made the one thing he loves most in the world, for the world.

Worth having a gun pointed at his head.

(Trust me, he whispers)

(And this time, he didn't)

[eulbydoom]

can’t stop thinking about crunchy rolls and pickled ginger

[ahogedetective]

"Yep... and he has four more, believe it or not. You'll...find yourself seeing and hearing a lot of unheard things when it comes to these robots, Yuma." Said in a tone that pretty much relayed, 'You don't wanna know.'

Shuichi braced himself for the bear to possibly shove him away, but was surprised to see Monotaro cling onto him even more. "Hm..?" Rubbing the bear's back, he quietly listens to him go on, nodding along. What he's told, makes his eyebrows furrow. "Bad bears need to be punished...? If anything, Monokuma is the one he should be 'punishing', since he came up with the prank. I'm glad he didn't actually hurt you... b-but no, I'm sure he won't do that. If he really wanted to harm you, he would've done so while he had the chance."

He tries to reassure him with a sheepish smile. He usually could be pretty impatient with the cub's antics, but right now, he really did look like a terrified, innocent baby...and maybe because it tugged at his heartstrings a little, is why he actually wants to comfort him. Yet another unexpected thing to happen, in an already sea of bizarre events tonight..

Glancing between Yuma and the cub, Shuichi gives a slightly awkward pat to his head. "...We will, Monotaro; I promise. We won't let him hurt you. Yeah, so we'll be the ones to take care of this 'demon.' And next time, don't let your father rope you in his schemes; this demon is only spotted late at night after hours, so you won't see him if you're not here during this hour. So be a good bear... and don't wander about at this hour again, okay? Because if he tries 'punishing' you again, well: frankly, I doubt your dad will save you."

"In fact, try leaving the building and go somewhere safer. I don't want to risk putting you in danger by bringing you along, but I also don't want to just leave you in here by yourself. I'm sure he must have headed up to the next floor by now, so I highly doubt he will spot you, again. Plus, he knows we're on his tail, so he wouldn't dare take that risk to come back for you. That's why you don't have to worry about him doing anything to you, again, Monotaro. We'll be the ones punishing him, this time."

Yuma was already well aware of what Mondo's Ultimate is, but hearing that there were even more students in the same boat as him makes the small detective wonder just what sort of people are running this apparently prestigious school. If they allowed a biker gang leader admittance, then what's next? Someone from the yakuza? Or maybe serial killers?!

Before he could let his thoughts spiral, his mind goes back to thoughts of their elusive 'demon'. Despite his Ultimate talent, Mondo didn't seem to cause too much trouble at school, it was mostly off campus that he starts to get rowdy. However, this 'demon' seemed pleased to cause trouble on campus, even if it is a nighttime. Worse off is that it seems that his stomping grounds are beginning to grow, dragging his own brother into this terrifying mess...

However, his worry over what's in the room with them more than takes priority, Yuma hesitantly going over to his senpai's side to find... a little red and white teddy bear clinging onto Shuichi?

"So this is Monokuma's child. I-I've never seen a robot cry before... Then again, I've also never seen a robot try to prank anyone prior to tonight..."

He quietly watches as his senpai calms the trembling teddy bear, Monotaro's sobbing barely louder than a whimper as he curls up against the detective, his little paws tightly latching onto his shirt.

"I-it's real," says Monotaro, his shaky voice little more than a whisper, "Right as I was about to head into the art room, the d-demon snuck up behind me and brought me here... Wh-when he was finished wrapping me up in that blanket, I-I could hear him muttering about how b-bad bears need to be punished..."

"H-he's not gonna come back and gobble me up, is he?! I-I don't wanna die!!"

Yuma doesn't know how to feel as he watches the little teddy bear go into quiet hysterics, the two robots he's seen tonight being far more advanced than the lone Ama-Pal he's interacted with. Is it possible that some Ultimate student here was able to program these robots so that they had sentience...?

He watches as Monotaro looks up at Shuichi with big, watery eyes, the terrified teddy bear's voice trembling as he presses himself against the boy as much as he can.

"Pl-please get him before he comes back to finish me off," Monotaro whimpers, burying his face into Shuichi's chest, "I-I know Father doesn't care about some demon wandering around, b-but I don't wanna see him ever again...!"

[ivorysfilms]

dating patrick hockstetter headcanons (MOVIE)

- this man is the LIGHTEST sleeper you will ever meet, like.. it’s kinda scary sometimes, you’ll accidentally knock something over and when you turn back around he’ll be sitting up and staring into your soul

- he def smells like some type of cologne that his mom bought for him and forces him to wear, burning stuff obvi and hairspray

- his mom is a christian(book reference) so expect to see him in church every sunday in his preppy dress shirt and tie

- he thought michael jackson was attractive when he was younger and whenever his mom brings it up he gets super pissed off

- he’s definitely not a mama’s boy or anything, he literally forgets her name sometimes but he favors her over his dad

- this mf has a hair pulling kink i CALL it, his hair is so pretty to not be pulled at

- his laugh is SO high pitched (as if his voice isn’t already but yk) i saw a behind the scenes and owen teague’s laugh is so silly in it

- okay so about his hair again it’s too pretty for him to not care about it so i fear he wraps it in a towel when he gets out of the shower and treats it like a baby(NOT like he would in the book guys..)

- he probably has gotten arrested like once or twice or at least told off by henry’s dad for setting things on fire around town with his “flamethrower”

- this mangy ass is weak as hell he can barely lift weights without falling like a damsel in distress to the ground

- ew he probably comes up behind you and goes ‘guess who!’ OR he wraps his arm around your neck like your a frat boy buddy

- he cannot dance so if he’s at a party or someplace with music he’ll just head-bang and jump

- he probably has insomnia so he gets up at like three in the morning and wanders around the house like this:

- he definitely enjoys graffiti and likes to spray paint random buildings in derry but he probably isn’t good at it so he’ll probably just write something like ‘penis’ or paints all over actual graffiti art

- i think he’s definitely more of a cat guy then dog because he has the personality and agility of one or if it came to any exotic animals he’d be a ferret

- will chase you around with dead bugs or mice if you’re afraid of either (HE DIDN’T KILL THEM) that’s book only guys

- he’s definitely more of a cigarette guy than a alcoholic but once in a while he’ll get shitfaced with the gang(you have to pick him up after)

- will give you any of his clothes, bracelets, rings, just ask. he loves seeing you in his stuff it’s like the equivalent of you in a collar that says his name

- he LOVES sushi, most likely because his mom cooked it a lot during his child years, but will beg to grab some while belch is driving, usually they do get it but they stop somewhere else because henry will shit his pants if he eats it(he hates it)

- MANSPREADS

- allows you to do his makeup or paint his nails if you’re on the girlier side, but if not he likes when you do his skincare

- i feel like the song that plays when the bowers gang is first introduced on screen (love removal machine by the cult) is the type of music he enjoys or that is his favorite song. he likes grungy/metal teenage boy music yk

FIRST POST EVER COMPLETED??? OH YAYAYAYA

who was gonna tell me trying to add your own gifs was such a struggle.. “gif to big!” THATS WHAT SHE SAID like stfu and let me add the dang gif

[papaya-twinks]

weird - l.n

Warnings: None

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - this is written from the perspective of their daughter, Cherii, who’s 5 years old (I asked my cousin to describe Lando and his ex, Luisa, and it’s basically just that)

My parents are weird.

Daddy’s a super cool racing driver, by the way, hes, like, really fast and I watch him all the time even when it’s really early or really late. Sometimes I go to his races but theyre loud, and stuff.

Mama’s alright. She sometimes tells me not to bite Daddy’s trophies, but I don’t listen to her. They taste good. Mama must think Daddy tastes good coz they’re always eating each other, like when we’re watching movies and stuff.

Anyways, today me and mama are going to watch Daddy race and stuff and it’s in Mexico, which is cool. I’ve been there before, I’ve been everywhere in the world, but anyways, when we got there it was hot and we were there to watch Daddy qualify.

And, well, hes my dad, so he obviously qualified amazing. Second, not sure why he didn’t get first, he was just bored of being first probably. Uncle Carlos wanted to have a go, probably. And he got me this taco too.

It was nice and it had chicken in it (me and Daddy love chicken, but Mama thinks we’re a bit too obsessed, she’s just weird) and like some weird sauce which I made Daddy take out and you won’t believe this but I caught Mama eating SUSHI.

Mama said if I told Daddy I’d be in trouble but I’m LOYAL to my Daddy, also cause he bought me sweets yesterday. So I broke into the bathroom (I opened the door) whilst Daddy was fixing his hair and told him how the Villian (my mother) was eating poison (sushi) and we both stared at Mama in horror.

She asked us why we were ganging up on her and we was like ‘nuh uh, no were not’ and then she got sad so Daddy kissed her mouth (yucky) and rhen we watched a film and I didn’t let Mama have any sweets coz she ate the forbidden food.

[yumeka-sxf]

It's been a few months since my last merch haul post, so time for another one! As usual, acrylic stands are my main purchases, with the below set being one of the rarest I've found 💖

The reason these are so rare is because I couldn't get them from my usual places on Amiami and Mercari JP. They're from a company called Ultrizon and are currently only sold in China. I saw them advertised on Twitter from a shop in Thailand and decided to reach out on the off chance that the shop would ship to the US. And much to my pleasant surprise, the shop, Chibishiba, replied and said that they would ship to me 😃 I was a bit concerned because they seemed to be just a small "mom and pop" shop, with only Twitter DMs as their form of communication and they kept track of everyone's orders in a google sheet. But I looked around on their social media and they seemed legit, so I placed an order (a few other fanatics I know on Discord did as well!) And thankfully, they were totally legit! They ordered the items from China, then once they shipped to Thailand, they then shipped to me in the US! Only took a few weeks 😁

Here's some more photos because they're so lovely~ For some reason the two Twiyor sets make me think of a scenario where they're going to a dance or other fancy event together (the left ones), but then something happens and they have to switch to "action mode" to stop a villain, save Anya, etc (the right ones).

Bond looks so adorable in his suit~ Also the one of Anya on the left is her totally thinking "Papa and Mama are so cool 🤩"

Even though I typically only buy merch with the Forgers, Yuri, Damian, and Franky were also part of this set. Lol, when I made the below photo of the three of them, I laughed because it looks like they're posing for a photo, with only Damian having fun…Yuri's like "whatever" and Franky's like "how long will this take, I have a date!" 😂

Besides the Ultrizon acrylics, the other ones I was most looking forward to getting were these chibi ones from the cruise arc (two different sets)

Between all of these, I now have acrylics of the Forgers' full wardrobe from the cruise arc 😅 My favorites are suit Yor, "I won't stop fighting" Yor, and Fun Dad Loid!

I really liked these Twiyor acrylics from the recent Tsukuba collab. It's like they're going on a hiking date ❤️

I also got these chibi "famous scene" acrylics from the Waku Waku Park event.

I've been trying so hard to get the complete set of these big acrylics for a few months now...I managed to find Loid and Anya, but no one is selling Yor 😭 (or Bond). I won't stop looking though!

As for non-acrylic figures, I've been looking forward to getting this Yor & Anya figure for over a year! It was actually one of the first SxF items I preordered, way back in November of 2022! Considering they had the colored prototype available way back then, I'm surprised it wasn't officially released until March of 2024. But worth the wait ❤️

For Code White's release, I got the set of Luminasta figures (all three for a good price on eBay).

Also chibi Loid & Yor~ I know there's a ton of chibi Loid and Yor figures out there, but I really liked these for some reason.

Last month I went back to Kura Sushi for the last merch from their recent collab: this nice shirt~ You were able to get it if your bill was at least $70, which isn't hard to do if you bring a friend with you and you both eat a bunch of sushi! (well, he did most of the eating, lol). I'm planning to wear it for the first time at Anime Expo in July 😁

They also had this little Anya dessert.

And miscellaneous items I recently got were these pretty picture cards that I plan to make scans of.

The McDonald's collab booklet, the season 2 complete set box, and the Loid & Anya cloth poster that came with the box. I also plan to make scans of these!

A mug from the Tobu Zoo collab.

And lastly, some new decals for my car! I found this set at Walmart of all places, lol. Found room for them among my other decals.

Since I bought so many new acrylics and figures lately, I had to do a major reorganization of my display shelves. But I'll save those photos for another post~

[voxsmistress]

Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part 10

This took me a few days as it just was not wanting to play out how I wanted, finally today I figured it out! My poor brain!! Hope you enjoy guys - a little one on one time with a certain Vee ;)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen

Thanking them both for helping you get ready and promising Velvette you would take loads of photos tonight you grab your purse and phone – glancing at the lone coffee left on the table you sigh a little under your breath. It woulda been nice to have seen Vox’s reaction to your outfit. Rolling your eyes at your own thoughts. Jeez y/n get a grip! Walking to the elevator you miss the smirks crossing Vel and Valentino’s faces. If you had, you’d have known you were walking into a big surprise.

Walking onto the black carpet at the front of the club you were kinda overwhelmed by all the flashing of the cameras, the paparazzi shouting out questions, compliments and insults thrown at the different demons and sinners on the carpet was just crazy. If you thought the paparazzi were bad when you were alive … when dead and in Hell, they really don’t give a shit.

You move further into the chaos, giving the best winning smiles at all the cameras, twisting this way and that showcasing off Velvette’s outfit which you made sure to mention numerous times (she’d killed you if you didn’t) and answering a few questions or rather answering the ones you were comfortable with – so far so good. Perhaps best to get yourself in the club before you mess up by tripping over or saying something you shouldn’t.  You went to walk to the doors until a slimy arm crept around your waist, spinning around you come face to face with some fish-like sinner. Ew. Lifting your lip in distaste you pry his arm off – you swear to Lucifer if he has left ANY slime on you or your outfit, you’d skin him alive and make sushi! Giving the arm a hard shove back towards its owner you snarl. The fuck did he think he was going to achieve? Before you could give the fucker an ear lashing another arm wrapped around your waist. Twisting your head with a glare you came up short when you faced an unamused Vox who was glaring at the creep.

“Vox?”, he flashes you a quick wink.

“Keep smiling sweetheart, you are on camera after all. Remember – perfection is our brand”, his fingers dug into your hip as he dragged you closer to him. Even with your stilettos he was taller, you had to tilt your face up to look at his expression which had its usual charming grin but the look in his eyes were telling you a different story. Leaning forwards his charming smile glitches as he menacingly spoke to the sinner: “I really suggest you don’t touch what isn’t yours!” Both of you watch the sinner nearly wet itself as it scrambled away with apologies rushing out its mouth.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, giving your best smile to the cameras, resting your arm around his trim waist to stabilise yourself. Brushing your fingers against his suit you notice it’s a lot fancier than the one he usually wears, it was navy (of course) with thin white stripes but the thing that caught your eye was a pink pocket square in his chest pocket. And not just any pink. Your pink.

A small chuckle caught your attention, he smirked down at you when he saw your eyes were focused on the pocket square: “Vel thought we should be matching if we were going to the event together. And good to see you as well Songbird”.

Together? Uh? When did you invite him? Confused you try to keep the smile on your face as he moves you both forwards a few steps; at a quick turn you both face another set of cameras. Twisting you a bit too fast you almost stumble but his arm pulls you safely to his chest. Peeking up at him you can’t stop a playful smirk, you just know he did that on purpose. Your hands were resting on his chest, he was leaning down a little to keep his grip on your waist – the coldness from his fingers made you shiver a little making his smirk grow wider on his face. From the mad flashes you knew the paparazzi would be lapping this all up. You dreaded to think what the headlines were going to be reading tomorrow.

Vox pulled you back up so you can stand properly, though a possessive hand stayed on your hip as he let you step away from his body so you both could pose appropriately for the cameras. Carrying on down the carpet you blushed when some of the more … er raunchier paparazzi started asking some very personal questions about you and Vox. Unsure how to answer you look up at the TV Demon who gave you a wicked smile. Uh Oh. Winking at the paps he instead pulled you with him down the carpet, matching his steps till you come to a small queue at the door. Standing behind you he let both his hands rest on your hips, his chest brushing your back as he leaned forwards to whisper in your ear: “what has your heart racing little songbird?”

Clearing your throat while you turn your head so you can look at him over your shoulder you raise your eyebrows in amusement at the smirking Demon. You weren’t going to tell him the truth. That it was him being so close to you that was setting your dead heart a patter. Nope. You were not going to give him the satisfaction! It was also definitely not that his face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath brush your cheeks.

“It’s my first time on a ‘red’ carpet so it was a little nerve wracking”, you tell a half-truth. You actually were really glad that he was here to help you, “by the way thank you for helping me back there”. His smirk softens a tad as his fingers rub little circles against the bare skin just above the leather pants you were wearing. Tingles flow from his touch.

“I couldn’t just let you get mauled out there” he chuckled, “plus we cann’t have you going all Siren on us again. That wouldn’t have been good for our image!” Narrowing your eyes at him you huff.

“There’s such a thing as self-control you know. He would have just gotten cursed out that is all”, crossing your arms over your chest, watching as his eyes follow their direction before humming under his breath.

“Self-control is overrated sometimes”, his eyes flick back up to focus on yours with that devilish grin that you love. That coming from the control freak made you laugh and roll your eyes at him, that grin doesn’t leave his lips as he pulls you closer as some sinners walk in front of you. “Hmm you know y/n…” raising your eyebrows questioningly he lets his screen rest on your shoulder so his lips were just by your ear, “I just can’t get the smell of your perfume out of my head”. Catching you by surprise you couldn’t hide the blush that hit your cheeks from his words. Seeing he had managed to fluster you that wicked grin grew, lifting his screen off your shoulder he squeezed your hips before pushing you gently forward. Seeing the queue had diminished you walk with him to the door and allow the doorman to check off both your names, spying Vox’s name on the form you frown. He had an invite, why hadn’t he told you earlier in the week when you spoke about it?

Entering the club, you lean back and let the music distract you for a moment. The vibration of the bass and drums. Energy ran through your body from it. After a few moments you open your eyes and see an amused Vox observing you from your side, two glasses of champagne in his hand. Holding one out to you, you accept it letting your fingers run across his own. A smile of your own tugs at the corner of your lips as you both raise your glasses in a mock cheers and take a sip.

Moving towards a free table, Vox motions to the only high stool, laughing at you when you had to jump a little to sit on the stool – damn your shortness. Vox leans against the table so your knees were brushing his legs which shouldn’t have flustered you so much. He was being quite touchy feely with you tonight. Sipping on your champagne you couldn’t help admiring his stance. He just commanded power, even just stood leaning on the table. Teeth biting your bottom lip as you wonder if he could teach you how to do it, he looks over at you suddenly as if you had called his name – caught in the act you just decide to go with it. You let your gaze wonder down his body once more, slower than before (you’d already been caught so what was the harm with having a proper look?) before raising your eyes to his. A small glitch appeared on his screen. Ooh seems you have hit a small nerve. A sip of your champagne hides the victorious smile.

A dark expression was now on his face, a clawed hand now rested on your knee giving it a sharp squeeze. You were very tempted to keep up this game of cat and mouse, but something told you that you would lose. Not that losing would be a bad thing, but it might things a little awkward later on. Possibly. Maybe. Worth it?

“Mind telling me what you are doing here? I didn’t think club openings were your type of thing. More Val’s?” You try to distract the TV Demon, when he responded to you he didn’t remove his hand from your knee.

“True sweetheart, but this club has bought a lot of security stock from VoxTek so they extended me an invite. Truthfully, I wasn’t going to come but I got a very snappish text off Valentino”, his other hand reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. “That Angel bitch has dumped our Y/n. Get your ass in your best suit and get down to the club to support our girl” he repeated the text, eyebrow quirking at you when he finished. Valentino wrote that? Annoyed that he had called Angel a bitch, you would be speaking to him about that! But you were a tiny bit touched that he made sure you had someone with you tonight. That he knew you would be nervous. Wait. Our Girl?

“Our girl?” you question, finishing the glass of champagne you pop it on the table. Glad you had because when Vox leaned forwards his hand slid further up your leg, so it was now riding up your thigh making you tense.

“Yes y/n, you are our girl. You don’t seem to realise that when you entered an agreement with Velvette, you don’t just get one of us but all three. It’s what makes our trio work so well.” Swallowing the nerves down you frown at him.

“I don’t remember that being mentioned in the agreement” sassily you cross your arms. A sharp squeeze to your thigh made you clench your legs.

“It is an unspoken rule”.

“Funny that”. You roll your eyes. Of course there would be hidden little loopholes in the deal. It was too good to be true. “Any other unspoken rules I should know about?”

He tilted his head mockingly at you. Course he wouldn’t say if there was or not. God you needed another drink. As if he could read your mind – which he better bloody not be able to – he clicked at a waiter to get you both a bottle of champagne. Watching him command the waiter you didn’t notice the owner of the club had made their way to you.

“Miss Y/n, aren’t you just a dream, pleasure to finally meet you face to face”, twisting in your chair you face the Shark-like Demon. You didn’t exactly have the best rapport with Sinners and Demons who had shark features, usually they were loan sharks or something similar when they were human. Not ones you wanted to get into business with. Plus, the ones that had cornered you last week. Plastering on your best smile you hold out your hand for him to shake.

“Pleasure is all mine Mister Carp” the irony of his name was not lost on you. “Your club looks fabulous”, his creepy smile was starting to make you feel uncomfortable, so you were quite glad when Vox turns back to you with a full glass of champagne.

“Ah Mister Vox, great to see you here as well. I didn’t realise you were both an item?” Scratch that.

Laughing he slipped the glass into your hand and leant against the table eyeing the club owner as he sipped on his own for a moment. “Well, I was curious as to what you were going to offer Y/n here to sing at your club – you realise she has a lot of offers at the moment and as someone whose associate runs other clubs, I am a very interested party in making sure Y/n gets what she is worth and nothing less”. Eyebrows lost in your hairline you smile into your glass when the owner starts to stutter. It was apparent that he was not expecting Vox to be here, let alone with you and speaking about business.

“We already spoke about your salary here Miss Y/n” he bared all his teeth in what he must have hoped was a charming smile, unimpressed you placed your glass on the table while leaning forwards allowing Vox to place his hand on the back of your chair brushing between your shoulders. After having Vox, Valentino and Velvette all use their charming smiles on you – no one else’s seemed to work.

“And I rejected that offer as it was disrespectfully low for the talent that I have” you simply put, pointing to Vox you carry on “like Vox said, I have many others who are offering twice and thrice what you have offered to pay. So. Thank you for the opportunity and invitation tonight but I will have to refuse. I think we are going to take our leave now”, you step down from the stool. The shark-demon would have intimidated you slightly if you didn’t have Vox directly behind you with an arm looped around your shoulder glaring at the club owner.

Stuttering his apologies and other offers you just roll your eyes at the club owner. You place your arm around Vox’s waist and start walking for the exit, him laughing under his breath as you grumble about what a waste of time this evening was.

“I don’t know Songbird; I quite liked this little date of ours” – catching you off guard you stumble. His laughter grew as he removed his arm from your shoulder and put it back on your hip where it barely left this evening. DATE?

“You thought this was a date?” you asked in a bit of shock. Humming his lips were twitching in amusement. “Well …” you bit your lip and then thought screw it, “I thought you out of everyone would have planned a much better date and more entertaining than posing for cameras and being looked at like shark bait by creepy club owners?” It was now your turn to laugh as his screen once again glitched and he narrowed his eyes.

“You just wait Y/n” as you walked outside you took a deep breath of fresh air.

“With pleasure, Sir” you smirk up at the TV Demon who matched you with one of his own. This night might have been a bust but it definitely was interesting.

Tag List:

@tasha-1994  @azullynxx  @reath-solia @leathesimp @klorinda @twinklethewarrior @martinys-world @rosiethevoxobesser @the-maladaptive-daydreamer @songbrita @midge7838 @joumi13 @wonderlandangelsposts @th3rizzl3r

[billiessillywife]

pov: you slowly start to get back to that sad phase and billie notices and helps you

warnings: talk abt suicidal thoughts and js really sad but also really cute fluff at the end

youre in the embrace of your warm and soft blankets getting cozy , in the comfort of you and your girlfriend’s house. girlfriend woah that sounds so odd coming from your mouth . billie’s been the perfect partner she’s been there for you always providing you with the affection you craved, you both helped each other in more ways than one. you 2 never talked about this but in each others heart you knew that this was so right so perfect it filled your heart and even overflowed it.

yet youre here in ur bed and ur doing it again. the constant over thinking , a battle , between ur own voice and thoughts and the one of ur enemy

“ the other voice the evil one”

what if billie decided i’m not good enough

i’m getting ugly anyways she’ll leave me

fuck this i’m just gonna end it

what if

what if

what if?

this is the reality of your own head its what you go through . a predisposed action in a way , it’s in ur nature . but ur sick of it it’s getting too much and ur tired so tired , usually billie helps you with navigating through it always reassuring you trying to keep u busy so that u dont fall back . unfortunately ur sweet baby is at the studio working on some stuff for her upcoming album . you’re so proud of her she’s your star an angel in every single way . billie is your destiny and forevermore . but you can’t help and wonder what if ur not what she wants . billie goes on her day meeting multiple people ones who are 100% really attractive maybe she falls for another girl? boy? maybe she starts to realize ur way too fucked up.

you’ve always been in question of ur own identity ur sexuality ur self image . growing up with certain norms you follow and that’s it . no in between the lines . but you fell right through when u realized that u liked girls the same way you thought you liked guys. the butterflies , the warmth , the softness , gentle touch so pure. one hell of a journey yet u fought it , went through the guilt , the thoughts really overwhelming you in so many ways through that u lost ur family some friends too bur ur here . and you met billie.

you run a hand through ur silky soft brown hair and take a deep breath

alr i got this , i’m okay

you go about ur way to the bathroom to wash ur face and get the mood right , billie is supposed to be coming in a few with some sushi and a movie night is scheduled for you two so u better get ur shit straight right?

you stare at ur reflection from the big mirror in ur lavish bathroom. and there it is , what you truly hated and the thoughts run around again

you over analyze each and every little detail of ur face and body tears start to form and u lean ur body on the counter to js take another breath

yr eyes look so tired billie is gonna notice

ur hair is greasy and need washing

u look like u gained a few pounds

stop eating and go to the gym

do something productive

don’t mope around

just stop.

tears left and it’s never ending

billie’s keys unlock the door and u hear her footsteps you can hear sharks adorable noise greeting his mama .

ur breathing grows heavier and faster and it all comes to you panic panic.

hey babyyy billie enters the house with a enthusiastic tone and the take out ready

bil im coming down give me a sec .

u mutter trying not to break ur voice and give billie a idea she can’t know.

you can’t stand you can’t speak and everything is so blurry u can barley see billie going into ur master bedroom and the bathroom door wide open so she sees u and panic struck her eyes.

layla layla omg baby whats wrong? .

billie falls down to the floor with you she’s seen this before but she genuinely thought u were getting better but u masked it so well.

layla honey breath with me tell me what’s wrong can i hold ur hand pls .

billie’s soft voice cascades through the room and ur ears u feel them pop and u can feel ur surrounding you look up at billie and you see her icy blue ocean eyes meeting ur brown ones.

you start to pick up on ur breath no words have been spoken till now billie understands that u won’t speak until ur stable again . you slowly pick ur trembling hands and lace them with billie’s .

bbbillie im okay i just i thought a lot and this made me liiike well this i’m sorrry pls don’t leave me pls i love you baby.

ur voice breaks again after that sentence . truth is your mind was a dangerous place a whole war zone there and u were frightened .

you’ve always dealt with the thoughts of hurting urself yet u never had the courage to go abt it . actually do it but it’s been a lingering thought for so long and like said before u were so tired.

you basically went by ur day normally u ate , u showered u went out with billie and even friends . but once ur mind was alone it ran and ran all the possibilities and thoughts come rushing in a hindered miles per hour. you went back to ur old habits as well eating to fill the void but when u see ur self in the mirror it’s like looking right back at the devil an awful sight. and the cycle begins again and again

billie dosen’t speak another word but she holds you so tight like never before . u can smell her vanilla scent through her shirt and it’s comforting its home where you belong . she keeps you in her arms all night with the food outside getting cold . but she’s with you and she’s got you she whispers i love you and soft whispers to you .

as long as you got her nothings gonna happens

youre okay now.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Comet Donati [Chapter 8: Fool’s Gold]

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, references to sexual content (+18), drugs, alcohol, smoking, Aemond being very horny for one person in particular, mental health struggles, pregnancy, bodily injury, illness, death, a Targaryen family reunion, the tragedy of a hammerhead shark.

Selected Chapter Quote: “Do you love him?”

Word count: 9.9k.

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​ @seabasscevans​ @tsujifreya​ @helaenaluvr​ @hiraethrhapsody​​

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“I could love you for more than a day,” you tell Aegon, smiling, drowsy, sipping you blush-pink Salty Dog at the rooftop bar in Kansas City. It’s June, tornado season: a clashing of contradictory air currents, quintessentially American destruction.

“Yeah?” he says, daylight spilling out of his gaps under the night sky: the gleam of string lights reflected in his cobalt eyes, the white of his teeth, the eternal-summer warmth of his voice.

“Yeah. Not on this planet, maybe. But on another, very similar planet.”

He clinks his glass against yours; grains of salt pop off the rims and land on the table like snow, like infinitesimal diamonds, carbon shaped by pressure and time and deadly heat into something cherished. The wind tears through his nearly shoulder-length blond hair. “To other planets, and other lifetimes, and other dimensions where we are all the least-damaged versions of ourselves.”

“Aegon,” you say, and you wait until he’s done downing his Salty Dog and is looking at you again. “Someone’s inability to love you has nothing to do with your merit to receive it. It’s about them, it’s not about you. And that’s especially true when it comes to parents. If your father can’t be there for you in the way that he should, that’s his deficit, not yours. He’s the one missing pieces of himself. He’s the one who has failed. You can’t use his inadequacy to measure your worth. You should be proud of yourself for succeeding in spite of him. You should be proud of the person you are.”

He’s spinning his empty glass between his palms, amused, perhaps somewhat anxious; he is afraid of the answer. “And what kind of person am I?” He waits for one of those familiar soulless tropes to resurface, the disaster playboy, the hot loser, the paradoxically remiss eldest brother, the addict, the slut, the comic relief.

You say instead, somehow knowing that it’s true: “A good one.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Takeoffs and landings, highways and streetlights, tarmacs that stretch into the hallways of five-star hotels. You order virgin drinks when no one else is around to hear you do it. You buy prenatal vitamins and stash them in an Advil bottle. You sneak off to see a doctor while Comet is in Boston; yes you’re pregnant, yes everything looks good so far, yes you need to stop eating sushi and lifting heavy luggage. You stay out of hot tubs. You try to dodge secondhand smoke. You follow the band from city to city like children hopping on couch cushions strewn across a floor they say is lava. And now: cold porcelain, too-bright lights, crumpled on the bathroom floor of your suite in the MGM Grand. Sin City, they call Las Vegas. Like it was made for you.

You hear the swipe of a keycard and approaching footsteps, clop clop clop. When he appears in the doorway, you moan and try shield your face with your hands. You finally got your splint off last week in San Diego. “Please go away. Please.”

Aegon doesn’t listen. He gapes at you, chomping noisily on cotton candy flavored Bubble Yum. You can smell it; the sickening sweetness twists through your guts. “Damn, Stargirl. You look terrible.”

“Thanks.” You retch unproductively into the toilet bowl; there’s nothing left in your stomach to rid yourself of.

He’s wearing khaki cargo shorts, a neon green tank top, and—eternally, faithfully—matching Crocs. “Is it food poisoning? I don’t remember you being fucked up last night.”

Not that he’d know; he spent most of it snorting lines with Cregan. You lower the toilet seat, cross your arms over it, and take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m going to tell you something. But you have to not panic.”

“Sure.”

“And you have to not get wasted and accidentally announce it to everyone either.”

“That was not me talking. That was the Icelandic beer. And we’re not in Iceland anymore, so, yeah. Problem solved.”

“I didn’t want to tell you,” you say weakly, haltingly. “Not yet. Not like this. But I need somebody to help me hide it.” Just like Cregan needed someone to tell about Iris. And he chose Aemond. “Baela’s working on her ballet school applications, and I can’t burden Rhaena with something like this, and…wait…one second…” You yank up the toilet seat and heave into the bowl until the wave of nausea passes.

Aegon rubs your back, gentle and sympathetic. “Would weed gummies help?”

“No, Aegon.”

“Percocet? Oxy? Valium? I know where to get heroin in Vegas, but I wouldn’t want you mixed up in something like that.”

You gaze pathetically at him. “I’m eight weeks pregnant.”

“Oh, fuck,” Aegon gasps.

“It’s Aemond’s.”

“Oh, fuck! How…? When…?!”

“Tokyo. Club Camelot. Just once. And then we never talked about it again.”

“Jesus Christ, you love a spontaneous bar bathroom hookup.” He blinks a few times, processing this revelation. “You don’t have to have it, you know. If you don’t want to. You have options. Maybe you wouldn’t back in Kansas, but—”

“Missouri,” you whimper, staring miserably down at your silvery reflection in the water.

“Whatever. But we could fly you anywhere. If you wanted to not be pregnant anymore. If you decided to…uh…serve it an eviction notice.”

“I’ve thought about that,” you say, but it’s not quite true; you thought about it as an option, but not one of your options. “I know, logically, that’s probably the reaction that makes the most sense. But it’s not what I want.”

“Okay.” And if he has an opinion one way or the other, he’s doing a very good job of not showing it. “So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to resign at the end of this leg of the tour, and then I’m going to go home to Kansas City to raise my fatherless, clandestine bastard child.”

Aegon raises his eyebrows, chaotic blond hair falling in his face.

“That came out weird,” you admit. “But it is essentially accurate.”

“You’re just going to leave? You’re going to do this alone?”

“My parents will help me. They’ll be kind of horrified at first, but…they’ve been through worse. They’ll come to terms with it. They’ve been begging for grandkids since I was eighteen.”

“But you can’t leave,” Aegon says. And his large, murky, deep blue eyes are glistening.

“I have to go home. I have to build a life for myself. I can’t follow Comet around the world indefinitely.”

“But…but…so you’re eight weeks right now, right? So you have, like, I don’t know, over six months until the baby is born? That’s forever, Stargirl! That’s half a year! You could come to the fall shows in South America, and then visit London over the holidays, and…and…I mean I don’t even know what’s next for Comet after that, but you sure as hell don’t have to leave right now—!”

“Aegon, I could have complications because of the blood clotting gene thing. I could have a stroke, I could have a miscarriage. I need to be going to doctor’s appointments and taking leisurely afternoon walks and, like, eating vegetables and grilled chicken, not flying to a new city every couple of days while surrounded by booze and cigarettes.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” He sighs and sits down cross-legged on the bathroom floor beside you, rubbing his face with his hands. He looks at you from between his fingers. “One of our last U.S. stops is in Kansas City. You want to get off the ride there?”

“I think that would be for the best.”

Aegon says suddenly: “Let’s get married.”

“What?” Your nausea is now secondary to your shock. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I’ll give you healthcare and child support and whatever.”

“You genuinely think that me marrying a cokehead sex addict is the solution to this problem?”

“I’m not a sex addict. I’m a sex enthusiast.”

“Aegon, I’m not going to marry you.”

He is wounded, pouting, childlike. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want some arrangement. No matter how well-intentioned or generous it is.” I want real, constant, conventional love.

Now he smiles, faintly, sadly. “And you want a different Targaryen.”

You grab the can of ginger ale you left on the bathroom sink and sip it tentatively, averting your eyes, not answering him.

Aegon says: “Aemond doesn’t know?”

“No. He has no idea.”

“You have to tell him.”

“There is a zero percent chance of him taking this well.”

“You have to tell him,” Aegon insists, pointing to your belly, not showing yet but soon, soon, so soon. “If you’re keeping it, then that’s my family in there. You can’t just haul it off to the hellscape that is the American Midwest and push the rest of us out of its life. It can’t be a secret forever. Aemond would want to be involved. I want to be involved.”

“I’ll tell Aemond,” you promise. “But not yet. Not while I’m still on tour, not while I can’t get away from him if he…” You hesitate, not knowing what you are trying to say. Aegon waits. “He’s going to think I did it on purpose. That I was trying to use him or fix him or something. He’s going to hate me.”

“You can explain,” Aegon says, but doubtfully.

“Explain what? That I stopped taking the pill, but then forgot I’d stopped taking it, and then remembered right after we had unprotected sex that I initiated, whoops, oh and also Plan B apparently doesn’t fucking work?”

“His super sperm work, that’s for sure,” Aegon mutters. “Hope mine aren’t that energetic.”

“I’m a nobody,” you say. “And I have a lot to gain from this, even if that’s not how I see it. And Aemond…he’s so goddamn mistrustful. He’s so convinced that no one could want him or believe in him in a way that is pure. I’m afraid to tell him. I’m afraid he’s going to say things in the heat of the moment that I won’t be able to forget.” Like when he called me a slut. Like when he said he loves me.

“The getting pregnant thing sounds bad,” Aegon concedes. “And, yeah…he will most likely not react in an even vaguely sane way. Because he’s Aemond, and that clown from the It movies lives in his brain. But he’ll process it for a few weeks and then he’ll come to the right conclusion: that you wouldn’t deliberately do something to hurt him, and that he wants to be there for you and the kid. And I’ll vouch for you.”

You shake your head, your eyes faraway. “I wish I could wait to tell him until he’s in a better place emotionally. Until he has something…anything…to latch on to…a plan for what to do with his life…”

“Hey,” Aegon says. Gingerly, he turns your face towards his with one hand. His cheeks are splotchy with pink sunburn. He’s sweating out White Claws and Coppertone Sport. “I know you think you’re doing this alone, but you aren’t. I’m going to take care of you.”

You look at him with tears brimming in your eyes, hot, ashamed, blurring out your vision. “You’re so different than Aemond. You’re weightless and warm like daylight. You glow. But you do that for everyone, not just me. And I can’t count on you.”

“I love you,” Aegon says. “Not in a Jack and Rose on the Titanic way. In a different way. But I’m never going to forget about you, Stargirl. I get that I might disappear for a while, but I’m never going to not come back someday.”

You fold into him: softness, effortless proximity, cotton-candy-scented kisses smacked onto your temple, arms that circle protectively around your waist. “I love you too, Aegon.”

“Think you’ll be able to walk over with us to the aquarium at the Mandalay Bay? Criston got everyone tickets to feed the zebra shark.”

“When?”

“Um, soon. But I can buy you some time. I’ll text them that I’m busy FaceTiming Selena.”

“You’re a saint.” Patron saint of mayhem. You groan as you crawl out of his grasp and towards the shower. “I might be okay in thirty minutes. Let me try to start feeling human and wash my hair and stuff.”

“You want some help?”

You stare at him from where you are kneeling on the cold tile. “Really?”

“Yeah. You look…wobbly. You sit on the shower floor, I’ll wash your hair.”

“But I’ll be naked.”

He grins, holding up his hands in a blithe shrug. “I’ve seen it all before, Stargirl.”

“You’ll be naked too.”

“Don’t think you can tempt me into any unwholesome activities, you unwed knocked-up vixen.”

You laugh; it feels incredible. “I will gratefully accept your offer. I might not have a choice, actually. I don’t think I can keep my arms above my head for that long.”

Aegon stands, walks into the shower, starts reading bottles. “You want to smell like Japanese cherry blossoms or a coconut?” He pauses. “A fatherless clandestine bastard child conceived in Tokyo. Cherry blossoms it is.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A series of walkways connect the MGM Grand to the Mandalay Bay. Comet moseys through faux cobblestone streets in the New York-New York, complete with steam-wheezing manhole covers and operational storefronts of pizzerias, delis, bakeries, Irish pubs. The band narrowly avoids being trampled by droves of exuberant children—and you are looking at children more closely these days, watching how their parents corral them, noticing what makes them happy or sad or afraid—in the strobing, bleeping arcades of the castle-like Excalibur. In the Luxor, modeled after the pyramids of Ancient Egypt and featuring the largest atrium in the world, Criston begs everyone to pose for photos in front of sand-colored statues of sphinxes and pharaohs. “Smile big for your mom, Daeron!” Criston orders between pictures. Shelby, as always, is wearing her camera-ready, gloss-and-veneers grin. She’s also wearing a stunning floral-print maxi dress with a slit up to her thigh, looking glamorous and graceful and very not-pregnant. By the time Comet arrives in the sleek, golden, tastefully nautical corridors of the Mandalay Bay, you are exhausted and dangerously nauseous. You try your best to conceal it.

“Are you okay?” Baela asks. She is scrutinizing you as you stand in the shark tunnel of the aquarium, bathed in rippling sapphire-blue light. Overhead the captive ocean swims by: sea turtles, sawfish, Galapagos sharks, blacktip reef sharks, sand tiger sharks (hideous, in your humble opinion), stingrays, horseshoe crabs, a metallic rainbow of shimmering fish.

“Stargirl!” Aegon scolds mildly, ambling over to massage your shoulders. “I told you not to eat all those New York-New York corn dogs!” He shakes his head and smiles casually at Baela. “You can’t take these Midwestern girls anywhere. They see battered meat on a stick and lose all control.”

“How many did you eat?” Baela says, studying your sweated, queasy, generally unwell appearance.

“I don’t remember. I don’t want to talk about corn dogs right now.”

“You think it might be food poisoning?” Aemond asks. He has appeared in the shark tunnel with a plushie grey beast clutched in one hand. He’s lurking several yards away, but his forehead is creased with curiosity, with concern. His right eye flicks to where Aegon’s hands rest on your shoulders—disapproval? appraisal? fascination? envy?—and then back to your face.

“No, just gluttony.”

“It’s one of the seven deadly sins, you know.” Aegon counts on his fingers. “Gluttony, and pride, and lust, and…uh…uh…oh, right, greed…and uh…”

“What is this, Bible study?” Baela says.

“You’d know all about gluttony, you whale,” Jace tells Aegon.

Aegon shouts back: “I am like a whale, Jace! I am a rare and celebrated mammal!”

Jace mimes shooting Aegon with a harpoon. And then, when Cregan turns to glare at him, he grabs Baela’s hand. Jace’s face is at last fully healed and he has no interest in jeopardizing that. “Come on, baby. Let’s go see the Komodo dragons.”

“Don’t vomit on any sea creatures!” Baela chimes as they leave. Soon only you, Aemond, and Aegon are left in the shark tunnel. Rhaena and Luke are petting stingrays at the touch pool; Cregan, Daeron, and Criston depart to take their turns feeding the zebra shark. And Shelby is…actually, you’ve lost track of where Shelby is. Hopefully getting mauled by something.

“You should see a doctor,” Aemond tells you, stepping closer, although gradually, meanderingly, as if by happenstance. “You look…not great. You might need IV hydration or something.”

“Seriously, I’m okay. I’ll live.”

Shelby peeks irritably into the tunnel. “Honeybunch! Hurry! We have to take a selfie with this fish in the background so I can caption it I’ll love you inFINitely!”

“Will you give me two seconds, please?” Aemond snaps. She retreats with palpable unwillingness. Then Aemond offers you the plushie: a hammerhead shark, you see now. Aegon takes a few steps away from you both and pretends to be enthralled by a sawfish as it glides over the dome of the tunnel.

“What is this?!” you exclaim, delighted. Your nausea has momentarily abated.

“It’s your souvenir for Las Vegas. You can keep it right beside your sika deer from Japan. Hopefully they get along.”

“It’s so cute, Aemond! And very unexpected. Thank you.”

“No big deal,” he says. “I saw it and thought of you, that’s all.”

You pet the tiny hammerhead shark, downy and soft and grey like a storm cloud. “These were in the other tank, right?”

“Those were scalloped hammerheads,” Aemond corrects you. “This is a great hammerhead.”

“Wow. Pretentious.”

He laughs, a miraculously beautiful sound. And as you gaze at each other, painted in sapphire light and the shadows of fish, you remember everything about Aemond, the way he tasted, the sounds of his whispers and his moans, the indescribable fullness as he eased himself carefully into you. And you think: What would happen right now if there was no Shelby, no Aegon? Would he touch me? Would he kiss me? “There are actually no real-life great hammerheads in this aquarium. Not anymore. They don’t do well in captivity. One was flown here back in 2001 and she was on display for a while, but then she died unexpectedly a few years later.”

“She died?” You cradle the plushie shark in your arms. Suddenly, without warning, there are tears welling up in your eyes. You are distraught. You are consumed by irrational pregnancy hormones. “And she was the only shark of her kind here? So she didn’t have anyone who could understand her? She must have been so lonely.”

“Um, yeah, I guess. But sharks really don’t have emotions like people do, they’re mostly brainstem.”

“It’s still awful.” A tear slips down your cheek and falls onto the plushie shark before you can swipe it away.

Aemond is alarmed. “Are you…crying? About a shark that died like twenty years ago?”

“It’s sad, bruh,” Aegon sniffles, conjuring up some tears in his large, oceanic eyes. “The only one of her kind, bruh.”

“Honeybunch?” Shelby whines, appearing once again at the mouth of the tunnel. “Honey Bunches of Oats?”

Aemond sighs. “Yeah. On my way.” And he goes to meet her. A squall of giggling, bewitched children rush into the shark tunnel, pressing their eager little palms to the glass. Aegon’s manufactured tears have vanished and he is typing out a WhatsApp message to someone.

You think, picturing Shelby’s Vegas-themed fingernails skating across Aemond’s skin, flaunting parts of him while shunning others: I hate her, I hate her, I hate her.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Comet returns to their floor at the MGM Grand, there are three strangers waiting for them. Strangers to you, rather; not strangers to anybody else. Certainly not to Criston. The middle-aged woman—auburn hair, vast dark eyes, high cheekbones—rushes to throw her arms around him.

“Thank you for taking care of them,” she is saying, as Criston holds her and blushes a dark hectic pink. Then she turns her attention to Daeron and Aemond, touching their faces and their hair, asking if they are sleeping well, what they have been eating, what their favorite parts of the tour have been thus far. Aegon has not moved from your side. He fidgets awkwardly, shuffling in his Crocs, slurping on the Double Chocolatey Chip Frappuccino he bought from a Starbucks in the Excalibur. One of the strangers—a weathered older man in a grey suit, tall and vigilant like a wolfhound—examines him with a cool pale gaze. Aegon evades it.

The third stranger, oddly, comes directly to you. She is delicate, nimble, light eyes and hair like watercolors, soft and edgeless. She makes you think of birds: sweet songs, hollow bones. She takes your hands in hers and beams like she’s known you for years, like you are old friends. “You must be the one Aemond has told us so much about.”

Aemond? Me? You smile apologetically. “I think you mean Shelby. She’s over there.”

“Here I am!” Shelby waves from where she is parked determinately beside Aemond.

“No, I know who Shelby is,” the stranger says; and her dreamy, girlish voice is perfectly neutral. She might as well be making some throwaway comment about a squirrel in a tree, a fish in a koi pond. “I mean you. The girl made of stars.”

He talks about me? To people back home? Aemond turns away when you glance at him. Shelby is simmering. You tell the stranger: “That is very poetic. And flattering.”

“Stargirl, this is my sister Helaena,” Aegon says. Then he gestures to the others. “And that’s my mother Alicent, and the frightening bloke who looks like a mob boss is my grandfather Otto.”

“What on earth are you drinking?” Otto chides Aegon, wrinkling his dignified nose.

Aegon is stung, although he tries to hide it. “It’s a Double Chocolatey Chip Frappuccino. It’s delicious.”

“It’s a milkshake for adults. It’s diabetes in a cup. Put some effort into taking care of yourself for once, it’ll make you feel better.”

Aegon says flatly: “Yeah, I’m so glad you guys stopped by.”

“Are you here for the concerts?” Daeron asks, buoyant as usual.

Alicent looks to Criston; he smiles bashfully in return. “Well, Criston mentioned that you’d be in town, and your father just so happened to have a convention to attend here over some of the same days, so I figured…why not drop in and surprise my wonderful, accomplished, handsome sons?” Her prominent umber eyes drift to you. Helaena is still clasping your hands. “And their…friends.”

“Dad’s not around?” Aegon says cynically.

Alicent stalls. “Well…honey, you know how he is. He’s very, very busy. But he promised he’d try his best to make it to one of the shows.”

“You know, it’s strange. He never seems to be busy when Rhaenyra has her little art gallery openings.”

“So!” Alicent chirps, deflecting. “Criston said there was a pool. Is there a pool?” She pats the massive beach bag slung over her left shoulder. “We brought our swimsuits!”

The MGM Grand has an extensive pool complex featuring drink bars, multiple whirlpools, a waterfall, and a lazy river. Even in September—those last gasps of summer in the Northern Hemisphere—the temperature in Las Vegas hovers in the 90s. As you slather on sunscreen and nibble sparingly at an order of fries, Alicent and Helaena cannot disguise their interest in you. Alicent asks about your hometown, your family, your education, your time with Comet. She seems puzzled by your unmistakable fondness for Aegon, but otherwise smiles pleasantly and chuckles at your (carefully selected, intentionally tame) stories from the tour. Alicent strikes you as someone who is composed and warm on the surface but a jumble of frayed threads below; if you tugged on the right one, she’d unravel until all her seams split open and secrets poured out like dark water. Helaena doesn’t say much, and what she does say is strange, truthful but disjointed, like a line from a poem or a song; but she keeps touching you, a hand on your wrist or on your ankle or absentmindedly tracing the lines of your palm. From several chairs away, Shelby watches this with a toxic glower, for surely she as Aemond’s aspiring baby mama should be the beneficiary of his family’s attention. From behind his sunglasses, Aemond tries to act like he’s not staring as you spread sunscreen over your collarbones and chest and thighs.

“I’ve got drinks!” Aegon announces, appearing with a loaded tray. He weaves between chairs to deliver the beverages. “A pina colada for me…a strawberry daiquiri for Rhaena…a Twisted Pink for Luke…a margarita for Mom…no!” he barks at Daeron as the youngest Targaryen (for now, for the next approximately seven months) tries to grab a red slushie. “Not that one!”

Daeron is confounded. “But it’s a strawberry daiquiri. Isn’t that what I ordered?”

“Yeah, but that specific daiquiri is Stargirl’s.”

“What makes it different?”

“Extra whipped cream,” Aegon says without missing a beat. He passes it to you. Nonalcoholic is what it actually is: sweet and refreshing and without any bite whatsoever.

“Why are you being helpful?” Criston asks Aegon suspiciously, squinting, full of dread. “You’re never helpful.”

Aegon grins. “I’m just a helpful guy.”

“You’re freaking me out,” Criston says. “Cregan? I’m scared. What’s he up to?”

Placidly, sucking on a frozen hard lemonade through a hot pink straw with multiple loops, Cregan shrugs. Sunning themselves beside him are three Victoria’s Secret models. “Cregan?” Romee Strijd croons, reaching over to comb her fingers through his hair. “Could you rub more sunscreen on my back, please?”

Otto is stretched out on a pool chair and reading the Business section of the New York Times. Jace, Baela, Luke, Rhaena, and Daeron are gathering up their inner tubes and heading into the lazy river, a swift crystalline blue current that reminds you of Aemond’s clear right eye. Alicent gets up to go talk to Criston; they speak in low voices, less secretive than sacred, like each believes the other to be a relic necessitating great care. Shelby is now scrolling through her iPhone. Aemond is still watching you. The speakers are playing Somebody’s Heartbreak by Hunter Hayes.

“I was hoping you could fix me,” Helaena says suddenly.

You don’t understand. You think you must have misheard her. “What was that, Helaena?”

“Aemond says you fix people. That you’re a saint.”

“I’m certainly not a saint.” I’m just an unwed mother from Missouri. Who wears Cookie Monster pajama pants. “And even if I was, I don’t think anything about you needs fixing.”

“But I’m not normal.” And her eyes glisten with it: this knowledge that can’t be escaped, a lifetime of whispers and rumors and being hopelessly misunderstood.

“No, you’re not.” You won’t lie to her. What good would that do? What cure can come from dishonestly, even when spun from compassion? “But Freddie Mercury wasn’t normal. Neither was Jane Goodall. Einstein, Montessori, Dali, Tesla, da Vinci, Curie, Shelley, Newton, they were all extremely, undeniably not-normal. And guess what? Aegon’s not normal either. And neither is Aemond. And neither is anyone else in Comet. They might not be the same brand of not-normal as you, but I can guarantee you they are all bona fide freaks of nature. Because that’s what it takes to make something new, to leave a beautiful mark on the world. Being not-normal is painful sometimes. But that’s not a reflection on you. It’s an embodiment of how small-minded and cruel all those normal people can be. You don’t want to be like them. You’re above them, you can see things they can’t. You keep flying. Don’t worry about the dirt down here on Earth.”

And only now do you realize you have an audience, peering over with wide eyes: Alicent, Criston, Shelby, Aemond, Aegon, Cregan and the Victoria’s Secret models, Otto wearing the first smile you’ve ever seen from him. Helaena, calmed and content, goes to sit by him; he begins braiding a green ribbon into a lock of her hair.

“For the record,” Aegon says. “I am definitely dirt.”

You laugh as you gaze up at him, shielding your eyes form the sun. “No you aren’t. Not even close.”

He offers you a hand. “Ready to get in the lazy river?”

“Yeah, I think so…” You finish your daiquiri, climb off your chair, shed your black swimsuit coverup, and walk over to the pile of inner tubes that Criston collected for the band. You can feel Aemond’s eyes on you as your bare feet pad across the cement. He moves a towel over his swim trunks and then stares at the palm trees, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Honeybunch, let’s go in the water too,” Shelby says.

“Um. In a minute.”

The rushing current has brought Jace, Baela, Luke, Rhaena, and Daeron back around again. From his inner tube, Jace splashes you and Aegon as you approach the steps that descend into the lazy river. “Finally daring to enter my watery domain?! I’m the king down here. I’m Poseidon. But if you want to battle me for my throne, you’re welcome to try.”

“Don’t you start bumping people!” Aegon yells, jabbing his index finger at Jace. “You keep your little scrawny chicken limbs to yourself!”

“Aww, someone call Greenpeace, we’ve got a beached whale over here…”

“Careful,” Aegon says, grabbing your arm to stead you on the steps. “They’re slippery.”

And Aemond observes this, lighting one of his Benson & Hedges cigarettes and inhaling a deep breath of smoke, his face lined with scars of the past and furrows of worry for the future.

~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty-four hours later, the band is enjoying dinner down the strip at the Wynn’s buffet: eccentric modern art and elaborate fruit sculptures, prime rib and crepes made to order, gelato and pasta, sushi you can’t eat. Alicent, Helaena, and Otto are here with Comet. So are the Victoria’s Secret models. So is Selena Gomez. She sits next to Aegon, teaching him the Spanish words for various foods and giggling as he butchers them. When Justin Bieber’s Sorry comes on the speakers, she rolls her eyes and stabs aggressively at her shrimp.

You were violently ill until 3 p.m. and then mercifully improved. Upon arriving at the buffet, you caught a whiff of the Alaskan king crab legs and were at once ravenous for them. You demolish plate after plate, sucking hunks of meat out of cracked shells, licking up dribbles of drawn butter from your fingers and wrists. Aemond—relegated mostly to fresh fruit, chunks of bread, and a vegan ratatouille—ogles while trying very hard to act like he’s not. Jace pulls one-dollar bills out of his wallet and throws them at you.

“You could have an OnlyFans,” Baela says. “Forget a real job. Make millions splattering yourself in crabmeat and butter for sad horny men. You could do a whole series…shucking oysters…dismantling lobsters…”

You imagine your child in kindergarten: So where does your mommy work? She stays home and films herself eating seafood in her underwear. “I don’t think I have the disposition for a celebrity lifestyle. You know I’m always hiding from the paparazzi.”

Alicent chuckles as she takes a bite of her roasted quail. “Yes, I remember the photos! Always tucked behind Cregan or Aegon. Except those times when you were walking with Aemond. That was so sweet of you, encouraging him like that. I’m sure it meant the world to him. Ever since…well, you know…it’s a more stressful experience for him now.”

Aemond, self-conscious, busies himself with stirring his ratatouille. “It was really my pleasure,” you tell Alicent.

“Pleasure, huh?” Jace teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

Baela asks you once again if you’ll ride the New York-New York rollercoaster with her tonight. You pretend to be terrified of rollercoasters. She counters that you definitely rode rollercoasters at Grona Lund when the band was in Stockholm. You try to gaslight her into thinking she has misremembered this. Aegon jumps in with (doubtlessly fabricated) statistics about how many people are killed in rollercoaster accidents.

“Really?” Baela says. “Five million people die on rollercoasters every year?”

Aegon knows he’s made a fatal error, but he is committed. “Yup.”

“You’re telling me that more people are killed by rollercoasters than live in the entire state of Oregon? And no one has addressed this problem? This epidemic of amusement park calamities?”

Aegon shakes his head spiritedly. “Nope.”

Now Shelby is saying something to Alicent at the other end of the long table. You don’t listen too closely, because you’re in the habit of mentally muting her. Still, you can’t help but catch snippets. It’s about the importance of public figures being good role models. “…So it’s probably for the best that she’s not interested. Young girls are very impressionable, you know.”

“Oh?” Alicent is replying, polite but noncommittal, perplexed. Criston brings her a miniature creme brulee from the buffet’s sprawling dessert section.

“Don’t you agree?” Shelby asks you, and the table goes quiet. She smiles sweetly, innocently, all beachy waves and highlighter sheen.

You lower your crab leg. “What exactly am I agreeing with?”

“That people who accept the responsibility to be in the spotlight should be the sort of role models that the youth can look up to.”

“Um, not really, no. I think a popstar’s job is to be a popstar, not to impersonate Mother Teresa or stop global warming or anything. They’re not running for president. But I mean, yeah, I guess they shouldn’t be murderers, so I agree like 1%.”

Aemond glances over at where Shelby sits beside him, not knowing what she’s up to, not especially invested. She sniffs, a dismissive, haughty little sound, like can you believe how uncivilized this bitch is? “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter since you aren’t planning to pursue fame anyway.”

“Lovely Shelby,” Jace says, taunting her. “Are you implying that our supernaturally poised and responsible Stargirl would set some sort of nefarious example for the little girls of planet Earth?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Now Shelby is staring fixedly at you, cold like deep water.

You glare back defiantly. She couldn’t possibly have found out about the baby. Aegon would never have told her, and no one else knows. “Because…?”

“Because of what happened when you were in high school.”

Nothing changes for almost anyone else at the table, but it does for you: your mind goes blank, your skin goes cold, your stomach lurches, you are fifteen all over again. It’s not the fear that anyone in Comet would think less of you for it; you don’t think they would. Alicent might, Otto almost certainly, Cregan’s flock of models could carry the gossip anywhere—and surely this is Shelby’s design—but Comet would not condemn you. No, what paralyzes and disgusts you, what empties your veins and fills them with ice, is the truth that you are not the one choosing if and how to tell them, you are once again powerless and exposed, you are the curves and hollows of bare flesh they’re reading like a newspaper headline.

How…? Aemond…? But no: he looks just as horrified as you do, this is the last thing he expected, he didn’t think she knew, his eyes fly to yours and stay there, frenetic blue emotions but no words.

The others peer around the table. Aegon is frowning at Shelby, but he doesn’t know what she means, he doesn’t know how to help…because you’ve never told him. “What about high school…?” Luke says uncertainly.

“It’s not difficult to find,” Shelby tells you. “All someone has to do is Google your name and Kansas City, then comb back through a few pages. There are old Tweets and Facebook posts about it. Pictures, even, if you search long enough. Can you imagine how parents would feel about their daughters’ favorite boy band associating with someone like that? Popularizing that sort of behavior? It’s unacceptable. It destroys innocence.”

Your hands are shivering violently. You take one deep, shaky breath. “Actually, what happened was—”

Aemond lunges to his feet. “Don’t,” he commands you, holding up a hand. Then he turns to Shelby. His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, stormy, cutting, wrathful. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Aemond!” Alicent gasps.

Shelby blinks up at him. She is bewildered; she has miscalculated. She had no idea he knew. Her eyes dart from Aemond to you.

“No, don’t you dare look at her,” Aemond seethes. “You don’t look at her. You look at me.”

It takes effort, but Shelby manages to comply. She gawks at him, dismayed, flinching away from his rage, his scar, his sightless left eye like the lethal atmosphere of Neptune. She cannot hide how she truly sees him, how she will always see him. As something broken, pitiful, less.

“What the hell does she have to be ashamed of?” Aemond asks Shelby. “She doesn’t use people. She doesn’t sell false versions of herself. She is kind, and wise, and forgiving, and beloved. And what are you? A professional liar. A manipulator, a snake. Someone who knows how to pity but not how to cure.”

“Aemond—”

“Stand up.”

Shelby is petrified, shellshocked. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to put you in an Uber, and it will take you to the airport, and I honestly don’t care where you go from there. But you can’t stay in Vegas. And I never want to see you again.”

“Aemond, please!” Shelby cries. She still hasn’t moved from her chair. There are tears flooding down her cheeks: despair, defeat. You could almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

“And if you fight me,” Aemond says. “Or if I hear a whisper of you trying to disparage anybody at this table, I will end you, Shelby. Every app you use to edit your photos, every so-called friend you’ve worked to sabotage, every sponsorship you haven’t disclosed, I’ll expose all of it. I’d call up the fucking Rolling Stone if they cared enough about you to publish it. I will end you. Now stand up.”

Trembling, sobbing, this time Shelby obeys. Aemond and a flock of security guards—two of Shelby’s, two of Comet’s—escort her out of the buffet. He is only gone for a minute or two; the table is silent except for slurps of drinks and the occasional squealing of silverware against plates. When Aemond returns, he immediately goes to you. He rests a hand on your shoulder—gently, protectively, the same way Criston does—and murmurs so no one else can hear. He is so close the air you breathe is filled with him: smoke, cologne, dissipating fury.

“I am so sorry. I had no idea she would do that. I don’t think she’ll speak of it again. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you reply in a stunned little squeak.

“Good.” Then he looks fiercely around the table, pausing to lock eyes with every single person. His meaning is clear. You will not ask questions. You will forget this happened. He sits back down beside Shelby’s vacated seat and pops a red grape into his mouth.

“Damn, Stargirl,” Jace says after a moment. “So you’re a serial killer.”

Everyone laughs, and the nightmare is over. It breaks open like dropped glass. “Don’t worry. I only murder obnoxious, curly-haired brunettes.”

He winks as he licks chocolate mousse from his spoon. “I wouldn’t mind being added to your body count.”

“Shut up,” Baela groans. “Shut up, shut up…!”

You excuse yourself. You walk out of the buffet. The Wynn has a gorgeous hallway that passes through a garden of whimsical ornaments, flowers, trees, and string lights. Too suddenly for you to change course, you realize what’s going to happen; you stumble into the greenery and vomit five plates’ worth of Alaskan king crab onto a Ficus tree.

“Need a napkin?” Aegon asks; he has followed you. “I don’t actually have one. But I could take my shirt off and give you that.”

Still hunched over and spitting, you shake your head. “No, I’m okay. I’ll use a leaf.” You don’t make eye contact with him. You don’t want to invite unwelcome questions.

“Relax,” Aegon says, rubbing your back. “I’m not going to ask.”

You are relived but skeptical. “You’re not curious?”

“I figure if it was something you wanted me to know about, you would have already told me.” He smirks. “I do think it’s interesting that Aemond knows something about you I don’t.”

“He gets one secret, you get another. You’re even.” You thought you were done. False alarm. You resume vomiting on the Ficus tree.

“Goddamn, that is disgusting. You want a Percocet or something?”

“I think that would be less than ideal for the baby.”

“Oh. Right.” He considers you with great sympathy. “A lot of discomfort over something that’s the size of what, a chicken nugget?”

“Yeah, probably.” You rip a leaf off the tree, wipe your lips, trudge back to the buffet bathroom to sanitize yourself as best you can.

When Comet’s fleet of Escalades arrives back at the MGM Grand, you loiter in the lobby hoping for Criston to appear. You shoo away the band when they try to wait for you, and once Aegon catches on he ensures that they file into the elevators and zoom up to their floor. You need a minute alone with Criston. You need to arrange your imminent departure from the tour. Criston, oddly, does not come inside. You give him five minutes and then head back out into the arid Vegas heat, dry, ancient, barren. One of the Escalades is still idling in front of the hotel. You open the door. Criston and Alicent are in the back seat: he’s on top of her, her legs and arms curled around him like ivy, the hem of her chic mom-appropriate sundress pulled up to her waist, her lips famished and moaning against his.

You scream, they scream, you slam the Escalade door shut. Seconds later, Criston bursts out of it. He is wearing only his hastily pulled on boxers and a half-unbuttoned white shirt.

“I’m sorry!” you blubber. “I, uh, I didn’t see anything! Um, I mean, I didn’t see that much—”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Criston pleads.

“I definitely will not.”

“Her husband…he’s…he’s not a great guy, you know? And Alicent, she’s…she’s so…she’s so incredible but so sad, she’s been through hell this past year, and after Aemond was hurt we…uh…well we spent a lot of time in hospital rooms together…and I just love her hair and her eyes, and her devotion to her family, and the way she smells…”

“I really, really, really do not feel entitled to nor desire the details that you’re sharing with me right now.”

“Okay.” Criston tugs at the collar of his shirt, catching his breath. “What were you doing out here anyway?”

“I have to talk to you about something, but it can wait.”

“You’ve already interrupted us at this point. Just go ahead.”

“Alright. Well. I’m leaving Comet.”

“No!” he cries, distressed. “Really? Why?! Is it something Jace did? What did Jace do? Because I can let Cregan know and he’ll—”

“No no no, nothing like that. It’s just time for me to go figure out my own life now.” Time for me to find a permanent job, have my baby, re-traumatize my parents, the whole American Dream thing.

Criston sighs. “I was hoping you’d stay on through the South America dates.”

“I can’t, Criston. I appreciate all that you’ve done for me and how welcoming everyone has been, this has been a fantastic experience…um, overall…but I really do have to go home now. Can we fill out the paperwork and make the Kansas City shows my last stop with Comet?”

He nods reluctantly. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get it taken care of. We can do signatures in a few days.”

“Aegon is the only other person who knows I’m leaving. I don’t want anyone else told yet.”

“Got it. You keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.”

These secrets are multiplying, you think as you enter the MGM Grand and Criston climbs back into the Escalade. Like cells, like storm clouds. Upstairs in Comet’s hallway, Selena Gomez is in a war with the vending machine; it has snagged her Starbursts and refuses to release them. You don’t offer to help her shake the machine—heavy lifting, not good for the littlest Targaryen—but you do use your flip flop to reach up inside the machine and knock the Starbursts loose.

“You’re the best!” Selena high-fives you. “Aegon tells me you’re a really talented therapist.”

“Oh no, no way, not yet. I mean I’m really new at it and I don’t have a lot of confidence in my abilities but I am learning a lot and maybe one day—”

“The work you do is very important,” Selena says; and she seems to mean it. She is so beautiful in a vulnerable, benign way. It is difficult to not be starstruck.

“Thank you,” you manage.

“Watch out for him,” she says quietly, discretely. “Anytime his parents visit, he’s a little extra fucked up for a while.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She smiles, lays a palm briefly against your cheek, floats down the hallway and is gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

On their last night in Las Vegas, Comet adds a cover to their usual lineup of songs: Animal by Neon Trees. It was Luke’s idea, which means it was probably Aemond’s. Aemond wanders the lofty catwalks and shadowy hallways making his notes, his comments, his white amendments on night-black paper, stars freckled across the void. Alicent, Helaena, and Otto join you, Selena, Baela, Rhaena, and the Victoria’s Secret models in the front row. Otto dances with Helaena, spinning and laughing; Alicent cheers for Daeron and watches for glimpses of Criston as he studies the performance from just off-stage. Aegon fumbles no less than five lyrics. Cregan has come up with this new trick where he can remove his boxers on-stage while keeping his pants on. He gifts the aforementioned boxers to a group of soccer moms who in the commotion rip them to tiny, sweaty, treasured shreds.

After the show, Alicent, Helaena, and Otto catch a flight back to London; Selena takes a limo to Los Angeles. Jace’s suite at the MGM Grand, per tradition, is soon engulfed in voices and music and smoke and amply flowing alcohol. Criston is chatting with Aemond, who has a Bramble in one hand and a smoldering cigarette in the other. Cregan and the Victoria’s Secret models are playing Jenga with Luke and Rhaena. In Baela’s absence—she’s working out in the hotel gym—Jace is consoling himself with plentiful Vespers and some barely-legal fangirls; he is introducing his tattoos to them one by one. Daeron is toasting Yuenglings with friends at the bar. And Aegon is like he always is: here, then gone, then here again, and finally gone, like a comet, like a tornado that touches down without warning and vanishes just as quickly. You lose track of him. It’s not your fault. He comes and goes like an act of God.

In the hallway, several suite doors are open, including Aemond’s. You slip inside; no need to watch out for Shelby anymore. You find his notebook on his nightstand—the same place you keep your souvenirs in your own bedroom—and you engage in your least-honorable hobby. You’ve been sneaking looks at his lyrics since Paris. You open the notebook and rifle through onyx pages to the most recent, starlight-hued entry:

I was closest to the sun, like Icarus, swimming in your light

You are the only person I’d let melt my wings

Worry a line into your face, I think about it for days

Don’t talk to me about what the end of summer brings

“He’d kill you if he saw that,” Luke says from the doorway, grinning. “Well, he probably wouldn’t kill you. But he would not be thrilled.”

You snap the notebook shut and place it back on the nightstand. “Please don’t tell him. I am but a humble fangirl.”

“I won’t tell him. But you should ask permission.”

“I don’t think he would give it to me anymore.”

Luke is gazing at the notebook now, his face distant. “It’s screwed up, right? I only got into Comet because of Aemond. He fought for me and he won. But when he was the one who needed help, I couldn’t do the same.”

“Luke…” You open your hands: sorrow, futility. “You must be the least blameworthy person in this whole goddamn mess. You tried to fight for Aemond when no one else would. You make him feel valued. Every single day I watch you remind him of his place here in Comet. You’re the only person who does that.”

“I can’t do this without him,” Luke says softly, fearfully. “I don’t know how to write a song without his advice. I don’t know how to end a show without being able to ask him what I did right or wrong.”

“I think you’re more capable than you believe you are.”

Luke is troubled. “Am I hurting him by wanting him to stay?”

You contemplate this for a while before you choose your words. “In my opinion, Aemond needs to know that his contributions to Comet were real and they he will always be welcome here. But he also needs to find a new purpose. He’s a guest in the band. He’s not a part of it anymore. He can’t go back to who he was before the accident, he’s learned too much about how people treated him when he was hurt. Even if he got up on stage again for a farewell performance—which I think would be beneficial for him—he’s never going to be a full-time popstar again. He needs something else. I don’t know what that thing is, but he needs to be free to find it.”

“I understand,” Luke says. He’s quiet, mulling it over. And then, brightly: “Want to play Jenga with us? Cregan is so bad at it. Or he’s letting us win, I’m not sure which.”

“That’s super sweet, but I think I’m going to go lay down. Maybe take a half-hour nap and then see who’s still conscious for me to hang out with.”

“Are you okay?” Luke asks abruptly.

“What? Yeah, of course, I’m just exhausted. I think the tour is wearing on me.”

“You haven’t looked good for a few weeks now,” Luke says. “I don’t mean that in a rude way. You just seem sad or sick or something. Or both.”

You give him your best reassuring smile. “I’m okay, Luke. I promise.”

He smiles back. “Good. Enjoy your nap!”

“Enjoy your Jenga!”

You drag yourself back to your suite, a human-shaped pile of concrete and lead. What had Aegon said? A lot of discomfort over something that’s the size of what, a chicken nugget?

“We’ll be back in Kansas City in a few weeks,” you whisper as you collapse onto the bed, one hand resting on your not-showing-but-soon belly. And as your eyes drift shut, you realize how good home sounds, better than it ever has before. Is that nesting? Is that just getting older? You don’t want to leave Comet. But you do want your real life to begin.

You are nearly asleep when you hear him come in: the swipe of a keycard, the clopping of Crocs, a clumsy dive onto the bed that rocks the whole mattress.

“Hey,” you say, eyes still closed.

Aegon doesn’t answer. You sit up and look at him: sprawled face-down, hair in disarray, sunshine yellow Crocs still on his feet.

“Aegon?”

He doesn’t reply, doesn’t move. You reach out to shove him. His eyes are closed; he is limp. He’s not breathing.

“Aegon?!” you shriek, shaking him, hitting him. There’s no part of him that is glowing now. The sun has set, but the moon is full: his skin is silvery-white and bloodless. You’re screaming for anyone who will hear you.

Cregan is the first to arrive; he was out in the hallway leading all three of the Victoria’s Secret models back to his suite. And then it all happens very quickly. Cregan is dialing 911, Aemond is dragging Aegon off the bed and onto the floor, Criston sprints to get something from his room and returns with two small white devices that he’s ripping out of their packaging. Aegon’s skin is turning blue. Criston feels for a pulse, doesn’t find it. He’s telling Cregan what to relay to the 911 dispatcher: no breathing, no heartbeat, Narcan being administered. Criston cradles Aegon’s head and tilts it backwards so he can dose him with the nasal spray. Then Criston looks at his wristwatch and begins chest compressions. You are pinned by shock and horror to the wall. You can hear people out in the hallway, voices and footsteps, clamoring and rumors.

There is Jace’s frantic voice: “Is he okay?!” Cregan pushes him back outside.

“Come on, Aegon,” Aemond is saying, patiently but firmly, slapping at his brother’s face, pinching his cheeks. No blood rushes in to darken the battered flesh. “We’re all here. We’re all waiting for you. Come on back.”

“One minute,” Criston notes as he glances at his watch. Forever, it feels like.

“I’d give him another,” Aemond says.

“Second dose of Narcan,” Criston tells Cregan as he stops compressions and administers another round. And that does it: Aegon gasps, jolts, comes alive again. His skin transforms from blue to white to pink. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Criston hisses, and buries his face in his hands, trembling with relief and adrenalin. Cregan is informing the 911 dispatcher that the patient is back from the dead.

Aemond lifts his brother so he’s sitting upright and holds him, smoothing back his hair, murmuring to him words too hushed to understand. Aegon says, dazed: “Did I do it again?”

“Yeah. Yeah you did. But you’re back now.”

“I’m sorry, Aemond.”

“Stop—”

“I’m so sorry. I should have been at soundcheck.”

“Stop, Aegon. It’s over, it’s done. None of us knew what would happen.”

There are glittering, glass-like tears on Aegon’s face. His voice is choked and heavy, so heavy. “I’ve never wanted to hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me now.”

“One of these times you should just let me die.”

“But then who would torment Father? I don’t have nearly as much talent for it.”

Now they are both laughing, and you see that Aemond has a few tears of his own: only from his right eye, only from the one that fate spared.

Criston says, almost apologetically: “Aegon, we have to take you to the hospital to get checked out.”

Aegon sighs. “Yeah, I know. I remember how it goes.” Aemond and Criston help him to his feet. He can’t walk on his own; they half-carry him out into the hallway where EMS is just arriving. And once Aegon is on the stretcher and being ferried away—with great fanfare, everyone gathered in the corridor to wave him off—Aemond comes back for you.

Together you ride in one of the Escalades to the hospital and stand outside the transparent windows of the room while a lethargic, irritable Aegon is hooked up to machines and Criston talks to the doctors and nurses, vigorously reprimands him, makes a phone call to Alicent so she hears it before TMZ can report the story.

“I haven’t helped him at all,” you say to Aemond. “Not last June. Not now. Never.”

“That’s not true. You don’t know where he started.” He watches you, this man who sees so much and yet so little, who maybe loves you but sometimes hates you and is the father of a soon-to-be child that you already feel you know. “Do you love him?”

“Yes. But not in the way you mean. I would kill for Aegon, but I’d never marry him.”

Aemond chuckles, like this is a ludicrous combination of words. “Has he asked?” And then when he sees your face, too exhausted and woeful to censor itself, his jaw drops open.

“He wasn’t serious.”

“A strange thing to joke about.”

“Not for us.” It would be strange if Aemond joked about it. Because I could actually see myself marrying him. Not in another world, in this one, if only the stars aligned just right.

“Look, I think I have to apologize,” Aemond says. “Because I might have…misinterpreted things. The way you make me feel is…I can’t describe it, you know? It’s like, light, and warmth, and music, and I made the mistake of thinking that was only for me. But you do that for everyone, right? It’s not just for me. It’s never been just for me. And you’ve been so goddamn gracious. You’ve never asked me for anything. You’ve never put yourself in a position to use or take from me. You knew what I needed and you tried to give it to me. So thank you. I know I said that I understood you better in Reykjavik, and I was wrong then. But I understand you now. You help people. You heal people.”

You turn to him, startled. “You aren’t like everyone else. That’s not how I think of you.”

He is intrigued, perhaps hopeful, perhaps too afraid to hope. Pity is familiar. Love would be something else. “No?”

“No.” Truths, like birds with clipped wings, struggle in vain to take flight. “I have to confess something.”

“Go on then.”

I want you. I love you. I want to have this child with you. But I’m so fucking scared that you won’t be able to handle it. And at last, cowardice: “I’ve been reading your lyrics.”

He smiles. “That’s fair, I guess. Everything I’ve written since June has been about you anyway.”

Criston emerges from Aegon’s room. His dark hair sticks to the sweat on his forehead; his eyes are damn near vacant. He looks like he’s aged ten years in the past hour. “He wants to talk to you,” Criston tells you. “I don’t think he’ll be awake in five more minutes, and he might not remember any of it anyway. But he is insistent.”

“He usually is,” you say, and go in.

Aegon is dressed in a pale blue hospital gown, no neon. His feet are bare; you can tell because one of them is sticking out from under the blankets. His hair is slicked back from his face. He is afflicted with a slew of twisted wires and beeping monitors. But he is still Aegon: beautiful, bright, generally harmless to anyone except himself. He blinks blearily up at you. “No one has ever loved me, and it’s because I don’t deserve it.”

“Millions of people love you, Aegon. I love you.”

“For more than a day?”

“For all of them.”

He grins, then presses his right palm to his chest. “Starboy,” he says. Then he points at you. “Stargirl.” His gaze drops to your belly. “Starbaby,” he declares at last. “Not my Starbaby. But a Starbaby nonetheless.”

“You can’t leave me,” you say softly, tears falling down onto his blankets. “I can’t do this without you. Not just the tour. Everything. I can’t live in a world without you in it. You can’t leave Comet. You can’t leave me.”

And Aegon murmurs, petulant like a child as he drowns in sleep: “You’re leaving me first.”

[tact-and-impulse]

Shinkane Week 2024 Day 4

@shinkaneweek, it took me until yesterday to decide what to do, before I remembered this line at the end of First Inspector!

Prompt: Treat

“Treat me to something.”

Little did Kougami know, that was only the beginning. They did need to catch up, and for her to acclimate to the real world after being a prisoner for so long. So, when Akane messaged about a new café or a weekly special, he never hesitated to take her out.

Then, it became a regular occurrence to spend lunch together, sometimes breakfast if they had both worked overnight. Tempura vegetables and sushi rolls. Red bean and black sesame buns, with hot tea and cold milk. Sandwiches and salads. Fragrant pastries and toasted bread slathered in a variety of spreads. Bowls of noodles, sautés, and curries. Her spice tolerance had fallen, she lamented. The same couldn’t be said for holding her liquor.

Her birthday had been an over-the-top celebration with Unit 1 and SAD; she drank both sides under the table, including her new boss, which Kougami was smug about despite his own raging hangover. On the other hand, his was a more subdued affair, with just her and his mom. Akane had made the little chocolate cake from scratch, and he was embarrassed as he blew out the single candle, ignoring Mama’s pointed stare.

Finally, as the weather chilled and their outings were extending to dinners, he folded his arms and asked her point blank. “What is this?”

“It’s a burger with a fried egg on top. You know, to resemble the moon.” She said, like he was the pitiful village idiot.

“No, I meant-” He gestured to their surroundings. They were on a quiet private balcony for the seasonal moon viewing, and maple leaves lazily drifted around them. “This scene. It’s a little…” He stopped short of using the word ‘intimate’.

“What do you think, Kougami-san?” A drop of sauce landed on the side of her thumb, and she lapped it up with her tongue. He stared a little too long at that. “If you don’t like it…”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not complaining. But what we’re doing, eating and talking and sightseeing if we’re not at work…” And now that he said it out loud, it struck. He really was the pitiful village idiot. What the hell was wrong with him? They’d been having dates, multiple dates, since she was released. The words flew as an accusation. “It’s a relationship, isn’t it?”

She blinked. “I’m shocked. I didn’t expect you to be the type to want labels.”

“And I didn’t expect you to not want them.” He retorted.

“Oh, I do. I was just waiting for you. I didn’t want to force anything.”

That was just like her. “…How long have you thought about this?”

“Um, well.” Nervousness flickered in her expression; he’d last seen it eight years ago. “Every now and then. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t in love with you when we met, or at least, I didn’t call it that. I was young and impressionable, then I was frustrated and resigned. But it’s always been you.”

“Funny, I didn’t use the word ‘love’.”

An incandescent blush rose in her face. She set down her food in indignation. “Kougami-san, I’ll be leaving first. Get the dango, I heard they’re good.” She stood but he caught her wrist.

He brought her thumb into his mouth, relishing the sweet-salty taste of her skin, and grinned as she yelped. “Dango can’t compare.”

“You’re horrible.” Her voice was already weakening.

He reverted to seriousness, firmly clasping her fingers. “I’m not a good man, and I won’t pretend around you. But for me, it’s always been you too.”

Gingerly, she sat down, and then, she gave a short laugh. “What a mutual confession that was! It only took six months.”

“Hope it was worth the wait.” He dryly said. “After you fooled me into being your boyfriend.”

“Oh, is that what you want me to call you? Shinya-san?”

A shiver ran to the base of his spine. “Whatever you want, as long as it’s not publicly humiliating.”

Her smile widened. “I expected as much. Pet names and love declarations wouldn’t be like you.”

“My preference has always been actions over words.” And when she blushed deeper, he laughed. Yeah, they were taking the dango to go.

[xoxorinkrumors]

New York Recs 💕🗽

Restaurants and Nightlife

Best Nightlife:)

- Little Sister Lounge- Sophia La Corte loves this place

- Loosies

-Tao downtown is a classic:) Jack had his 22nd birthday here

-Highlight Room

- Daphne

Best Bars:)

-Butterfly Soho

- The Nines (more chic on upper east side, Jackie Kennedy fav)

- Portrait Room 💕

-230 Fifth (best rooftop bar)

- The Mulberry

- Veronika

Hard Reservations spots

- Four Charles (was so good 😋)

-The Corner Store (Haven’t been but very good)

-The Polo Bar (iconic)

- I heard Tatiana is very good on the upper west side

Mexican 🌮

- Los Tacos No. 1 (kinda touristy but really good)

- Tacombi

-Oxomoco

If on Long Island my favorite is Besito 💋

Italian 🍝

-Lupa

- Carbone or go to Parm (It’s good even though it’s a TikTok trap)

-Misi

- Roscioli (fav)

-‘Felice

-Vía Carota (Taylor’s fav

Pizza 🍕

-Prince Street Pizza

- Scars

- Mamas too(good sandwiches too)

- L’industrie (everyone’s fav)

-Rubriosa (my friend had their birthday here and we ate like 10 pies so thin and delicious)

-Cuts and Slices Brooklyn

Sushi 🍣

-Sugarfish (I know basic but it’s so good) 💕

- Takahachi

- Rosella

-Blue Ribbon

(They’re are lots of good places for this one tbh)

Bagels 🥯

-Liberty Bagels

-Popup Bagels

- Tompkins Square Bagels

- Apollo Bagels (go before it may close)

- I grew up with Jumbo Bagels not as famous though 💕

Dessert

-Little Cupcake Bakeshop

- Taiyaki

- You have to try Magnolia and Levain once but not my fav but pretty good and essential to nyc

- From Lucie (Jack Hughes got Sammy cake there me for her birthday)

-La Cabra

-Posh Popup

-Supermoon

- Buttercup Bakery is my fav too

Brunch 🍳

- Sadelles

-Sarabeth’s

-Tartine

- Salt Cure

-Bubby’s

-The Harold

-The Smith

-Clinton Street (best pancakes)

-Thai Diner

Burger 🍔

-Gotham Burger

- 7th Street

Other Amazing Places

- Hillstones

-Semma (Best Indian)

-La Mercerie

- American Bar

- Torrsi

- Quality Meats

-Ichiran (best ramen 🍜)

[judysxnd]

can you please do an imagine where your nervous about telling pedro your pregnant then maybe where you guys tell bella?

The subject of pregnancy.. I don’t really relate to that one, as I don’t like children in general. I also don’t really relate to it towards Pedro as he doesn’t have children and won’t have any, but it’s also cool to think about it! I somehow like what I wrote. I know I started with the pregnancy as bad news before making it good. This is how I see it, and it’s hard to change my mind, but I’m trying my best!! And also, it’s not always good news! Especially in this context as I really like when what I think and what I wrote about relate and corresponds as much as possible to Pedro’s real life.

I Hope you like it ! I did turn the nervous part into something more, but I think it’s accurate.

——————————————————————————————

Pregnancy has never really been on the table. Pedro being in his late forties, extremely focused on his acting career, he was never really interested in it. Even if most of his roles implied being a father. It was enough for him. Interacting with his nephews since they were born, and friends’ kids was clearly enough for him. As for you? Well, you never really thought about it, you never questioned if you actually wanted at least one child. It wasn’t a part missing, you were enjoying your life as it was.

But here you are, pacing in the bathroom, trying to convince yourself to do the test. That one time where you both felt wild and had unprotected sex was catching up. It’s been almost a two months. Yeah. That’s how much busy both of your lives are. You actually had you period last month, but you read somewhere that it was possible during the first trimester to still have your period or losing a little blood, and you’ve been having pregnancy symptoms, therefore you got paranoid.

I mean, morning sickness, nausea, bloated, it kind of matches. Not to forget some weird cravings. Pedro hasn’t been here for two weeks since he is on set on the last of us, so he doesn’t know about you being sick.

“Okay, you can do it. It’s just a test, it might not-” you got cut

“Y/n!” You heard a male voice calling you. It could only be Pedro. With the music blaring in the background, you didn’t really recognized the voice, but it could only be him. You panicked and opened the first drawer and put the test in it before leaving the bathroom. As you opened the door, Pedro was standing there, ready to open the door.

“Hey!” You got scared. He had a big smile

“Sorry didn’t mean to scare you”

“It’s okay. But, what are you doing here? You were supposed to come back only tonight!” You slowly closed the door, not breaking eye contact with Pedro.

“Well, as we are extremely professional actors, we did a great job and we got to finish early this week, so here I am”

“Professional actors huh?” You both laughed

“I missed you mama” ouch, mama, the nickname brought you back to reality, remembering what was about to happen in the bathroom as you forgot for a few seconds. Pedro pulled you into his chest, hugging you tight.

“I missed you more” you closed your eyes, your arms holding him as tight as he was holding you.

“What’s with the basin by the bed?” You suddenly opened your eyes, moving your head to look at it.

“Hum- I got sick this week, it was.. in case I didn’t feel I could make it on time to the bathroom”

“You got sick? When? You didn’t tell me” you parted. He was looking at you, worried.

“I didn’t want to make you worry for nothing, I think I just ate something bad”

“Probably the sushi’s you dared to order Wednesday night without me” you smiled

“I’m sorry I couldn’t wait any longer!” You both laughed “but karma got me back”

“Are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, it as two days ago, I’m fine”

“Good. Because I want to take you out tonight. Find a cute dress, maybe the red one from our first date, I’m taking a shower and we’re out, okay?”

“Oh okay” you were surprised, but good. It could only help you change your mind, and you really needed it. Pedro kissed your forehead and went in the bathroom, as you anxiously watched him move. You hoped he wouldn’t find the test.

And now you were out, at your favorite dinner, with your favorite person. You were having a wonderful night. As the weather was nice, you had the chance to eat outside, just like your first date.

“It brings so many memories to be here tonight” you said staring at Pedro. “I’m wearing the same dress, we’re outside just like it” you both smiled

“Yeah, so many things change since that first date” you nodded, laughing “and it’s about to change again” he started at you, not really showing his emotions. You were confused

“Again? What do you mean?”

“I could ask you the same thing?” You furrowed your eyebrows

“What? I’m going to need you to elaborate please”

“Well you’re pregnant so-”

“You saw the test”

“Yeah”

“But I didn’t do it” now Pedro was confused

“What?”

“Yeah, I was about to when you arrived. I had been pacing for 5 minutes trying to do it, and you arrived”

“Oh”

“I know we never really talked about it, and I know you don’t want kids b-”

“No I never- it’s not that I don’t want kids- it’s just- yeah okay, it wasn’t something I really needed, I agree. But, it is also because I’ve never been in a long term relationship like we are, and-”

“So you would be opened to it? Because I don’t really think I am. It’s a lot you know, body changing, life changing”

“And if you don’t want to, I will respect that, you know that right?”

“I know” you both smiled. You both went silent for some time. “Can we go home so I can actually do the test?”

“Yes please” you both hurried outside to the car, going back home. You couldn’t really tell if it was anxiety or excitement that got you back home so fast, but here you were, in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet, ready to do the test. Pedro was waiting in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, thinking about the future. In a matter of minutes everything could change. 5 minutes later, you got out of the bathroom and sat next to Pedro, leaning on his shoulder.

“Now we wait.. 3minutes” you read on the box. Pedro held your hand tight.

Suddenly, your timer on your phone rang, making your heart skip a beat. You looked at Pedro, and got up, going to take the test that you left in the bathroom. You took it, and looked at it. Positive. You slowly walked out, staring at the test.

“What is it?” Your eyes connected with Pedro’s.

“Positive”

“How are you feeling?”

“I-I don’t know. I was really hoping I wasn’t, I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry, It’s okay” he looked at you. “Come here” you walked in front of him, still looking at the test. “It can still be a false positive, those things, we don’t even know if they’re reliable”

“False negative are common, but not false positive”

“Hm- well, you know what, let’s not be sure until we see the doctor, okay?” You couldn’t stop looking at the test. “Y/n, baby, look at me” which you did. “It’s going to be okay. You can still abort if you want to”

“Yeah but aborting it’s still something big”

“I know, and I’ll be here. Whatever you choose, I’ll never leave you alone” his eyes were wondering on your face. He was really trying to calm you down, make you feel better. But it was still a lot. We’re talking about having a child.

[two days later]

You were anxiously sitting in the waiting room. You were at your gynecologist. You needed real proof that you were pregnant (or not). You’ve been thinking about it non stop since you found out. Finding reasons, good and bad, to either keep it or not. Unfortunately, you had to go at the appointment alone. Pedro was on the set of The Last of Us, and couldn’t leave. He did try to take a day off, or at least a couple hours, but couldn’t. And after thinking about it, maybe it was for the best. You needed to make your own mind about it, and even if he would support you whatever you chose, you needed to be alone.

After your appointment, you somehow felt relieved. You were indeed pregnant. Almost two months. And your instinct was right. Even if you got your period you were pregnant. You got a small picture, even if it looks like a bean, you wanted a real proof to show Pedro. This relief you felt when you knew you really were pregnant was the last reason you needed to make up your mind.

You’ve been with Pedro for almost three years and he is the love of your life. You want to give this child the love you give and receive from Pedro. You’ve always seen him being a father figure to someone, and now, you really want to see him being the father to your kid. Yes maybe the age gap can make it a little difficult, but he has the soul of a child, he will be the best father ever. And you wanted to be the best mother too. Your childhood scared you enough to avoid children in general until today, but it wasn’t going to define you. You will be better. And you had the best partner with you.

So you decided to drive to the set to surprise Pedro with the good news. When you arrived on set, you saw him doing a scene with Bella. They were walking next to each other and Bella was telling jokes. When the scene was cut, you made yourself known to Pedro, who immediately came to hug you, ignoring everything around you.

“Mi amor, how was the appointment?” You looked around you, then took Pedro’s hand and went in a quieter side of the room.

“I have a little bean in my stomach”

“And how are we feeling about it?” He was trying to see if it was good or bad news

“And I can’t wait to see it growing” his eyes widened

“Does this mean-”

“Yes” you took out the picture

“Oh my god!” He jumped then he hugged you very tight

“You’re going to be a real daddy” you whispered in his ear

You were suddenly interrupted by a voice calling Pedro. It was Bella

“Oh hi Bella!” You said happily

“Hi y/n, what’s going on?” They were looking at you confused. Pedro looked at you very excited.

“Can we tell them?” He whispered in your ear. You stared at him, smiling.

“Sure”

“I’m going to be a dad!” He hold Bella’s hands, they were shocked. He was laughing, so happy.

“Whaaaaat? No way!! Congrats!” Bella hugged you

“Thank you!”

“Is that a picture of the baby?”

“You mean a bean? Yeah” you laughed, showing them the picture

“How far are you?”

“It’s only two months”

“Yeah only” Bella joked

“Seven to go!”

You knew it was going be seven long and challenging months. But with Pedro, it was worth it. Right now you might feel happy, but tomorrow you might panic just thinking about it. It’s not always good or bad. But you’re in the right path, and you really want it to happen. This is the proof of the true love between Pedro and you. It can only bring you happiness. In a house full of love.

[splitster]

answering ASKSSSSS

featuring: headcanons, mspaint yonny, and more

check it out! ↓↓

UHH the timeline is already hard enough to follow for 4 it's a little messy... I imagine for the pom wraith AU, it's mostly the events of pikmin 4 with some extra bits tacked onto it (like Olimar encountering the plasm at some point on his lonesome).

WAHHH THANK YOU... heres some secret mod lore, yonny is the HARDEST motherfucker to draw for me. he was ever since i started drawing the rescue corps and he still is!!!!!!!!!!!! his stupid face is so HARD GRRUUAUUGGHH

THANK YOU!!! i have a few bernard drawings/doodles in the pipeline to post eventually

(ive done a few ask masterposts at this point so forgive me if i already answered this one) AHHHHH i mean pom DOES really like Olimar. he challenges her skills out on the field when she's trying to track him down as a leafling which she finds engaging, and she finds him quite charming from the logs she reads. after he's cured, he's nothing but kind and supportive.

i don't think she'd try to take off with him like the plasm, but she'd feel protective over him if something were to threaten him

WAUUGGHH THANK YOU!!!! putting my favorite fictional characters into an enclosure and watching them

THANK YOU!!! you get it, he's so wet and pathetic

YEAH i have more bernard incoming!!! he's so genuinely supportive and it kinda freaks pom out because she can't tell if he has ulterior motivations or not (he doesn't. he's just a really cool dude. they'll become besties💖)

i'll perform the summoning ritual for you anon

there he is. what a jolly fellow

THIS IS A REALLY GOOD QUESTION... i had to consult with my friends for a lengthy food discussion (big hearts to @cosmicocoffee who helped me with like literally all of them)

for Pom, she's a wraith, so she just likes interesting and strong tastes. she's very partial to sweet things, and she LOVES chocolate (because that's one of the first sweets she ever tasted). although, she also like really spicy things because it's a neat feeling. as for least favorite, uh... i mean, the girl will literally eat soap for fun. it's very rare for her to have a food item she despises. they DO exist though, she fucking hates raisins

Dingo likes MANLY food, like MEAT and RIBS. well, he mostly likes being seen eating it. he does have a fondness for sweet things and smoothies. the town he grew up in could get pretty cold, so he grew up eating quite a lot of hot meals like caldo de res (he's especially fond of soups made the way his mama used to make them). he also picks up a fondness for hot tea from growing up with yonny, but he always puts extra honey in his cups. dingo HATES some foods though, especially sushi. the last time he tried to impress people by eating sushi, Dingo was hunched over outside the restaurant with Yonny rubbing his back...

shepherd! likes coffee. @soupvnova said she'd go to starbucks (spacebucks?) often to get the pup cup for oatchi which is very good. she has the healthiest diet out of all of them with routine exercise, protein shakes, lots of fruits and shit. she does have a weakness and a bit of a sweet tooth though, especially for cake. it hardly puts a dent in her diet though given her metabolism, she's a very built captain. she's not a fan of steamed vegetables... too squishy for her.

while talking about shepherd it is imperative to share that Oatchi will eat ANYTHING. if something hits the ground it is in his mouth immediately, shepherd has had to wrestle him to get space dog-unsafe food outta there before. although she will also constantly sneak him stuff from the dinner table

collin's fun because he enjoys eating healthy, he's a fan of fresh spring salads and stuff like pineapples and watermelon, but he also has to live off of a lot of processed/vending machine food because the man pulls all nighters frequently. he's also prone to stress eating... you can find him demolishing a watermelon and he's just. covered with seeds. he likes crunchy foods and seeds-- he's very hamstercore. he comes to Despise instant noodles because of how often he has to rely on them for food in the dead of night

fucking uhhh yonny, he likes foods that pair well with reading, he has pretty "mature" tastes and enjoys tea, maybe a glass of wine if he's feeling it. he often gets tunnel vision with his work and will neglect to eat, and as their doctor he'll have to set reminders on his phone to go have a meal so he doesn't fall ill. i can imagine he's not too into sugary things...

we already know bernard has some very expensive tastes, but he might just struggle with some textures or tastes in food. like, he enjoys pizza, this man is just a very picky eater... i can see him having tastes all over the board though. also he's protective over his stuff, he cared more about dingo eating his pizza than abandoning him

russ. uh... russ. yeah

olimar and louie are not part of the rescue corps, but i could see olimar joining (and louie following) sometime after the events of 4! he'd get a much better benefits package... he'd be good at providing logistical support for rangers out on the field, although his achy back would probably keep him off the field himself

AHH THANK YOU!! i have written some things but i don't have anything published -- to be honest, i'm not much of a fic writer. most of my writing is mostly just me talking through ideas/stories/cool character moments with friends, which is not a very shareable format unfortunately💔

i will say, talking about ideas with buddies gives me a shit load of ideas/motivation for drawing, and a lot of the stuff i've posted probably had that as an origin

THANK YOU!! and yeah of course that's fine! every artist is a collection of inspirations, and i'm no exception. my style comes from studying what i like in art and media (made by other people). i'm honored you find me as an inspiration💖

AUGH AUGH THANK YOU!!! i appreciate the anatomically correct hearts 💖💖

YEAHH i have designs that i've been meaning to flesh out but i'm lazy... i've been sitting on a dingo and yonny wraith design for like a month now, i should just bite the bullet and post them as-is if i ever want to share them... oh well! it's all for fun, i'm not gonna stress about it looking good

---

thank you for reading this far!! and thank you all for the asks, i will continue to slowly get through them...

[ladylooch]

Birthday Kisses - [Sam x Kevin]

A/N: So weird to write this with Kevin still on the Wild… had to remind myself of that a few times. Ah the good old days…. Anyways, reminding y’all too that in LIYLN, Kevin never leaves MN. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! To my sweet @couldawouldashoulda50 thank you for loving Kevin so and requesting this smutty piece. Cannot tell you how much I loved revisiting Sam and Kev!

Word Count: 1.6k

Samantha Fiala holds her teal Yeti in both hands as she leans in the doorway of her bedroom. It’s summer in Minnesota which means the sun is on full blast coming through the wall of windows to her right. In a room down the hall, the youngest Fiala is tucked in with his nook, going through a growth spurt that requires him to sleep more hours, providing her with a quiet morning.

Today is not just any summer day. It’s also Kevin’s 28th birthday.

Sam brings her cup up for a sip of iced coffee. She sucks in through her metal straw as her eyes flirt along the oak floor of their bedroom. She follows the trail of Kevin’s discarded clothes from the door to where her morning treat is. Her husband lays on his stomach, arms scrunching up the pillow below his right cheek. His face is turned towards her, away from the windows, and his lips puff with each even breath he has. The comforter has slid down his body, exposing two perfect ass cheeks that make her want to praise the universe for bringing this gorgeous man into her life 6 years ago.

Last night, Sam and Kevin hit up Billy Sushi in Minneapolis with a few of his Wild teammates and their partners, leaving Luca at home with her parents. Kevin came back lit on fire from a fun night and booze. The exaggerated hug he gave to both of her parents as they left to return home had Mama Stalock cracking up. Kevin had been asleep upstairs before her parents even left the driveway.

Sam smiles at the memory of him cucking his boxer briefs over his shoulder and rolling into bed naked with a “Night, baby.” muttered into his pillow.

Sam leans off the doorway, padding her bare feet across the floor. She sets her cup of coffee on Kevin’s nightstand, then runs her fingers through his poofy brown hair. It’s wild and sticking up a few different ways as he startles.

“Mmm?” He mumbles, not opening his eyes.

“Nothing.” She says back quietly. She sits down next to him. “Just need to touch you.”

Kevin’s eyes pop open taking in his wife next to him. He moves a hand off his pillow, letting it stroke up her thigh and collect on her bare ass under her sleep shorts. He rolls forward, putting his head in her lap. Sam runs her nails gently along his scalp, making Kevin sigh contently.

“Happy birthday, babe.” She whispers, leaning down to kiss his temple. Kevin smirks, then leans forward to kiss along her inner thigh. Goosebumps launch across Sam’s skin, telling her husband his effect on her.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, nosing at the stretch marks along her inner thigh from when she grew too fast as a young teenager. She used to hate that part of her, but Kevin’s constant appreciation of her body has changed that.

Sam trails her hand down from his hair to race the muscles of his back. She swirls her nails, dipping and rising along the valleys of his back until she gets to his firm ass. She trails over that too and Kevin sighs.

“What did you get me for my birthday, baby?” He drawls at her, Swiss accent thickening on his tongue. Sam sucks her cheeks in, biting at the inside of one before she shoves at his hip for him to flip over. He rolls gently, taking his head out of her lap too. The comforter falls away completely. His hard cock swells against his abdominal muscles.

“You’ve been so good to me this year.” She sighs. “Filling me up with your baby.” She presses a kiss to his chest. Kevin’s hand follows her rise from the bed, palming her ass more fully. “Being the best daddy in the delivery room. Taking care of me when I could barely walk.”

“Fuck.” He whispers as she kisses the cleft of his cock. His eyes flutter shut as Sam sucks it slightly.

“I wanna thank you properly.” She murmurs finally. She takes his erection into her hand, sliding her palm up and down the skin. Her fingers grip tighter, twisting out a bead of precum. She smirks, then leans forward to lick it from his slit. She rolls her lip into her mouth to nibble it, widening her eyes innocently. “That okay with you?”

“Yes.” It’s a gasping hiss. She leans down to take him fully in her mouth. Kevin brings his other hand over to her hips, working her sleep shorts and panties down her thighs. She snaps her gaze back to his.

“It’s my birthday and I want something sweet.”

Sam’s core clamps around nothing. Kevin’s finger tips come to her entrance circling with two before sliding them up her slit to her clit. Sam inhales heavily then exhales a moan around the head of his cock. Kevin’s hips twitch beneath her, itching to press deeper into her mouth. She flattens her palms along his taut skin, then sinks her mouth down him.

Kevin’s moan fills their bedroom, loud and expressive like he always has been for her. Sam fights the urge to grin, then trails her tongue up the underside of his length. She swirls it around his red head, then falls back down on him completely.

“Fuck me.” He groans, slapping her ass. “You’re so good at this, beautiful girl.” He trails his fingers off her clit to her entrances stuffing her full of him and mirroring her rhythm.

They play with each other like that, matching tempos with mouth and fingers. Their wet motions collect with the air in the room, bringing them both closer and closer to coming.

Until Kevin taps Sam’s thigh.

“Come back toward my face.” He calls to her, bringing her knee to the other side of his body. Sam takes a small backward wiggle, then yelps around Kevin’s cock when his lips kiss her clot.

She collapses her breasts forward, letting Kevin’s abs catch them. The friction of her shirt against her nipples has her eyes fluttering closed as his mouth works on her. Her feet settle on the headboard, giving her the leverage to take Kevin further down her throat.

Kevin’s tongue winds the tightness in her core tighter. Her mouth falls off his cock to moan. She strokes her fingers fast along his wet skin, feeling his shaft pulse and tighten in anticipation of his release. She pushes her own mind numbing pleasure to the side, putting her lips back around his head. She sucks. Kevin yowls. Then digs his tongue deeper into her core.

“Kev, I’m gonna come.” She whimpers. He grips her hips tighter, then rumbles a response against her folds. The vibration and his tongue push her over the edge. She cries and chokes harder on his cock as he works her completely through. Once she is done, he grabs her ass cheeks, spreading her pussy wider in front of his face. His hips start to buck up into her mouth, chasing his own release.

“I’m close.” He warns her, husky voice dripping with desire.

One hand crawls under her sweatshirt to grip her breast, palming the swell of it while he leans forward and laps at her sensitive core. She clenches around his tongue in her hole. At the taste of her on his lips again, he spills into her mouth with a string of German curses Sam knows well now. She rolls his balls in her hand as he smashes his head back into the pillow, moaning her name like a prayer.

Sam brings her mouth off of him. She rests her forehead on his thigh, closing her eyes as she attempts to recover from how hot that was. She revels in how generous he is to her and how much she loves when he fucks her mouth at the end.

Kevin’s hand slides up her ass to her back. He rubs circle into her spine with his thumb.

“This is quite the view.” Sam can hear a smirk in his tone. She swallows thickly, then rises back to her knees. Kevin takes one out from under her, making her hit her back to his left. He’s over her before she can move. His lips collect hers in a wet, consuming kiss, their tastes mixing together.

“Happy birthday.” Sam mumbles into his mouth. “I’m so glad you exist.” Kevin chuckles.

“I was just thinking the same thing.” He looks down at her, brushing strands of hair off her cheek.

“Are you ready for another sweet thing?”

“Yes.” He nips at her neck.

“No.” Sam giggles, grabbing his face to kiss his lips again. “Actual food.” Kevin pauses, excitement in his eyes. “I made caramel rolls. I was thinking you could stay here and I’ll bring you a baby. And then some caramel rolls so you can have breakfast in bed.”

“This is the best day ever! Pussy, a baby, AND caramel rolls.”

“Kevin!” Sam laughs loudly, slapping his hairy chest. “Pussy and a baby shouldn’t be said in the same sentence.”

“I mean, that’s how he got in there…”

Sam covers her face, shoulders shaking from how hard she is laughing. She pulls her palms away and looks up into his beaming face.

“I love you.”

“I know, baby. I love you too.” He whispers. He kisses her again, then flops onto his back again.

Sam crawls off the bed, grabbing her iced coffee before padding out of the doorway to wake their baby.

When she glances back at her husband, his eyes are watching her every move. She shakes her ass at him and he claps in response.

“I’m feeling baby number 2 tonight!” He yells after her.

Sam rolls her eyes.

Absolutely not.

[horrorcore2002]

BAKUGOU HEADCANONS

_*_ DISCLAIMER! The following content mentions: Fem reader, black/brown reader, chubby reader, cussing, and this shit is everywhere, mostly abt food and his taste for it Bakugou headcanons

★ First things first right off the bat I think Bakugou likes women of color

★ Like, black and brown women? that's all you needed to say

★ Especially thick or chubby girls (what can I say, he's got good taste)

★ Thinks stretchmarks are the cutest thing a woman could have

★ We all know he's a chef, but I think he sucks at baking 100%

★ Would do some fucked up shit like using olive oil in cake batter or burning betty crocker cake mix (if you can bake, he'll only eat your baking and that's it.)

★ Hates overly sweet frosting, like REFUSES to eat it will scrape off the chunk of cake that touched it and be done with it.

★ Hates cake even more if it's dry as shit, cause then he's to drink water or milk, and water with cake is disgusting, and milk just grosses him out.

★ Does like Red velvet cake with whipped cream instead of frosting

★ Listens to R&B when he's sad as shit. Like, I'm talking 3am, I don't wanna sleep cause I'll have to wake up for tomorrow, so instead I'll read a romance novel sad.

★ I also feel like he likes fried sushi or California roll sushi because they don't traditionally have that in Japan and he thinks the American twist to it is cool

★ Or he'd think it atrocious and not want it ever again. There is no in-between

★ When it comes to dating, he doesn't pay attention much, like if it's meant to really happen for him, it'll happen, but if not, then oh well.

★ However, don't expect him to make the first move. If he has to, he's gonna have to be drunk off his ass.

★ I feel like he really likes his mom, even if he yells at her (and she yells right back) because she actually gives him good advice and he respects the hell out of her and would do little things as a kid

★ like draw sumn making fun of her, or pick flowers and dandelions, or get her water when he knows she hasn't been drinking it, with a snippy insult on the side

★ He's a mama's boy, but will never ever admit it. Like ever. You mention it, and he'll gaslight you.

★ I personally think his favorite superhero movie (besides anything All-Might) is Guardians of the Galaxy and The Avengers

★ Likes Rocket the best, and then second is Gamora

★ Has a complex relationship with the Hulk movie, cause the movie plot was pretty good, but he fuckin hates the graphics (if u know u know)

★ Really likes The Hulk tho, cause he looks cool

★ But likes Red Hulk more, cause he looks cooler, and because he hates Bruce Banner cause he reminds him of Deku

★ I feel like he'd be a huge fan of other foods from different cultures, cause he likes trying new shit, because the same damn thing over and over pisses him off

★ It's one of his pet peeves

★ He also likes black Air Forces, because their black, and he just likes them better cause he's secretly still in his emo phase (and cause he's kinda crazy)

★ Back to food again (sry this entire thing is everywhere) but I think he would love chili fries, or animal style fries, with like, a shit ton of hot sauce

★ wants to travel the world with you (will never admit it though)

_*_

credits to: @kiyaedits for the photos © DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS AT @HORRORCORE2002 ON TUMBLR. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.