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#i did not know i could make the text a different colour that is very fun
ruershrimo · 3 days
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take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 7: conversation
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ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list
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chapter synopsis:
' “I can’t believe you’re leaving us for a boy," she goes, rolling her eyes. She doesn't even blink.
“I’m not.” You are. '
---
Megumi calls you back. You leave for Tokyo again, like a soul yearning for its body.
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word count: ~6k; tws: none for now :)!!
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19-6-2018
“So you’re really going to let go of them now?” your father asks. 
“...yeah.” 
“That’s good. I’ll miss that Itadori boy, though.” 
You will, too. 
In a way you suppose Megumi and Yuuji are very similar. They’d go well together, be good, fast friends and all that. 
They’re both undoubtedly good people, no matter how they’ve beat people up before and how different their beliefs may be. 
In Megumi’s case, everyone knew how good a person Tsumiki was, her younger brother included. Her kindness and virtue extended itself, inspiring other people around her. But Megumi was a good person, too— polite, patient (most of the time, unless it were Gojo— but who wouldn’t be annoyed by that man, right?), kind in his own way. He cared for you in all sorts of ways in the past, even then you could tell, gentle with animals and objects and your hand. Gentle in his own way. Giving you reminders despite the tiny calumniations sprinkled in (they barely do as much damage as comb bristles can), being sharp because he must have had to, kind because it was in his very nature. Easy on the eyes, tall, deep soothing voice— he ticked all the boxes for that, too. You bet that if things were different, and the two of you had stayed in touch with each other, you’d have fallen deeply in love with it by now. Yet that thought only makes you feel sour now that things hadn’t gone that way at all. 
And Yuuji, too— there was no explanation needed for Yuuji. Even Megumi could tell he was a good person. And at some times he was almost like Tsumiki. You weren’t ever surprised that you’d caught feelings for him, because— who wouldn’t? He was always popular, even if he was ignorant of his own charm around others. But he wasn’t just a good guy with a ripped torso, he was honest, perceptive and smart in conversations. Smarter than he ever credited himself for. Smart in a way you could never be— people with cute faces, nice bodies and good social skills were in a league of their own, practically. You’d thought that for a long time. 
Did either of them ever know how you felt? 
Probably not. Your heart was guarded, intensely so, and you’d never lay your feelings bare and out so easily. You weren’t the type of person to say you loved people as easily as others did, even within your own family. 
This, you presume, is probably an acquired trait, now that you think about it. You were much more different as a child, free with praise and love and unabashed affection as well as appreciation for the people around you. What changed?
(Everything.) 
You miss 2010. You miss Tsumiki the way you miss your mother’s cooking, miss her the way you miss when you wrote emails and letters and text messages to her with multi-coloured pens or your old phone that eventually broke a year after. You miss the conversations the two of you had, miss how you used to be your parents’ little angel. 
And in the end it all comes back to that, doesn’t it? 2010. Nostalgia. Reminiscing on old memories in a way akin to how the elderly do in their youth. That just made you seem more pathetic, because, weren’t you supposed to be making those memories right now, at this time of your life? 
You’re a teenager. You should be going out with friends, and having fun, not rotting at home ruminating on the past, with the only friends you’ve ever had hundreds of kilometres away from you (you weren’t sure if you could even call one of them a ‘friend’ anymore), and your acquaintances not close enough to replace them (how could they ever? How could there ever be a replacement for Yuuji?) 
In a way you feel your life is miserable: awkward, socially-impaired teenage girl with her only friend practically out of her life at this point; nothing special to your name besides a cursed technique that most times does you more harm than good; stuck not being able to completely get over friends she met at eight who left her as quickly as someone can blink their eyes; with the thinking process of a nagging, stubborn mother sometimes, or if not that then a blurry, mingled train of thought that gets delayed or lost when moving from station to station; someone not of use at all. Not miserable, you think to yourself like a slap to the face, pathetic. 
You’re not sure how Tsumiki is now— maybe she has a partner, or better friends than you were, or she’s busy being president of the student council or something (she’d be a sterling leader, of that you’re certain, that girl who you’d always known was bound to go places in the span of her lifetime). 
Hopefully, she’s alright, and doing the best she can in life. That’s all you wish for when it comes to Tsumiki. 
At this point, there’s no point in wishing to join them, or to linger on them and memories of the past. It’s a mosquito in summer heat, which is why, if it stays, you decide, you’ll just suppress and ignore it until it goes away. Even if you didn’t know how long it would take you to get over them— weeks, months, but goodness forbid a whole lifetime or forever— you needed to accept that you’d be like this for nearly the rest of your life: pathetic, lonely— ah, that’s the word that so very perfectly delineates the situation you’re in— and then some. 
So that’s why, when you hear your phone buzzing on your bed like a cicada during a balmy night, you assume it’s someone else. Yuuji must be busy settling in (he’s been texting you, and you took that as a sign that he wouldn’t call), and Megumi must be… —Well. Megumi has made a promise, and it’s not that you don’t believe in him, but it would be better to expect less than what you’d like to in order to evade disappointment. 
Must be someone else. A prank call, or a scammer, or something. Or a telemarketer, but you’d be surprised if telemarketers were calling you and not your father. And you were never one to pick calls up mindlessly anyway, so if it were some stranger out to get you or swindle you, you’d just hang up or check the number. 
If not either a scam or a telemarketer (well you suppose both of those could be scams in certain contexts), though, then you’d suspect it would be either Yuuji (Yuuji’s the one who has been texting you, after all, conversations strewn over checking in with the other over the past few hours or snippets of advice from you telling him not to bother Megumi very much, and to be cautious and keep himself safe) or Gojo— definitely not Megumi, and probably not Gojo either, but still it was more likely that Gojo was calling you instead of Megumi, so you’re considering it— and you can’t really remember Gojo’s number anyway, so what if an unknown number wasn’t a prank call or something—
You wonder if you should just pick it up instead of burying your head in your study notes and overthinking everything. 
But you know it’s definitely not Megumi. 
You check the phone. 
Well, you’ll be damned. 
It’s Fushiguro Megumi. 
You know his number by heart, after all. Keyed it in too many times to forget, and it’s not like he’d have any reason to change it. Not with the way he cares for things, inanimate objects, not with the tenderly quiet, secretly caring, emotionally jaded way he maintains them. 
“Ah… hello?” 
Your heart thumps in your chest and heat flares up in your cheeks with a frenetic speed. 
“Hi,” you blurt out, shakily. You’re sure your voice is quivering, yet your mind feels like it’s barely functioning, almost about to drown in a seven-feet-deep pool, so you can’t really tell. You can’t really hear yourself. 
You don’t know why you feel like this— no, you know exactly why, actually. It’s because you haven’t gotten over him. Your thoughts are scrambled but you know, for sure, that you’re like this because you want to get rid of feelings like these but you can’t. Or because you’ve been saying that to yourself like a mantra, for so long, even though a part of you wants it to stay— out of what, that’s what you don’t know; maybe desperation or nostalgia or an inability to stop dwelling on days long gone. But you know what this is— you’ve seen the movies, read the manga, watched the dramas. It’s romance. Crushes. Something you’re not quite able to call love yet, something you’re too scared to properly name, still, but something you can understand is one-sided nonetheless. 
“…hi. [Name].” 
“Hello…” 
What happens when two estranged childhood friends with a book’s worth of history behind their relationship that happen to be socially awkward teenagers actually have a conversation semi-beyond what keeps them estranged in the first place? 
“Hi— no, wait… how are you?” 
Pot, meet kettle, because you’re going off nothing but the fact that you’re at the very least surprised (the other emotions are too complicated to explain) that he’s speaking to you again, and not just on text, but he’s calling, and he sounds like he’s reading off a script, but the script is in a whole other language, somehow, and the uncertain nervousness in his voice is tangible, even for a deep, low voice like his. 
Script or not, you appreciate the effort, though. 
“I’m good, um… I’m happy you were able to call. It’s been a long time.” 
“That’s good.” 
There’s silence on the other line; time feels like it’s moving achingly slowly. But you’re mildly happy. 
Not happy, maybe, but you definitely feel light, as if you’ve been severed from the heaviness of everything else that has happened lately. This is the first time in years something like this has ever happened. 
“Ah, wait, I forgot to ask! Sorry, um.. how are you?” 
“I’m doing alright, too. Oh, wait, I should apologise. I didn’t tell you— thanks for helping with my injuries the other day. Gojo told me about it after you left. You… you didn’t have to, though. You shouldn’t have risked your health like that.” 
You shake your head. “Don’t mention it. You know why I do this, anyway.” Out of necessity or a need to be useful, you’re not even sure yourself, but he must know, to some degree, right? It seems as if he’d be the one to know the most of this, of you— at least, when matters came to this. “And I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Dr Ieiri probably ended up helping more with the bigger ones once the three of you got back. I mean, she did, right?” 
“…no. She said that she didn’t want to waste her time, so if injuries were more minor like mine, she wouldn’t heal them fully.” 
“...ah.” More minor? Seriously, doctor? You’d normally not question her judgement over matters that she had more expertise in dealing with, but seriously? 
“I’ll be fine, though. Most of the bandages have come off, and all.” 
“I’m glad to hear that.” 
You wonder where he is now, on the bed, maybe, or sitting on the floor. You’ve seen the classrooms, but not the dormitories— you hope wherever he is, that it’s comfortable. That he’s okay. 
“We’re going to see a new student soon.” 
“Really? Have you met them before?” 
“No, but Gojo said she’s from the countryside. But we’re meeting her in Harajuku, for some reason.” 
“Oh, Harajuku! I miss it,” you let out a plaintive sigh, “I can’t wait to be back in Tokyo. You know, whatever happens, I still love that city like nothing else. I know how many people hate it, but I love it so much.” And you love it so much in the first place, mostly because of Megumi and Tsumiki. “Maybe she just wants to chase a bit of the sweet city life— I mean, you know how it is when country bumpkins go to the city for the first time… kind of. Or when they love the city— yeah, that’s a better way of saying it. I was like that, kind of.” 
“...if you’re worried about the train ride here and want to travel alone, I could always pay for you. Uh… wait—” 
“Oh, no, no! There’s no need, uhm— thank you anyway, it’s just—” 
“It’s Gojo’s money anyway.” 
“Pft,” you snort. Anything to seep out some of Gojo’s money like gluttonous leeches, right? “Nah, I’ll be fine. I mean, I don’t even think I’ll be able to come back in a few years’ time, and by then I won’t even be relying on my parents’ money for this stuff anymore— I mean, I will still be relying on their money, but I’ll be managing it as my own.” 
He chuckles lightly over the line, the silent way he shows his emotions, the way that goes unnoticed if one is not attentive to it. It feels like he’s whispering directly into your ear, and the heat on your face (which you weren’t even sure was still there until that point). Your heart skips a beat and it completely, absolutely shocks you. “...the offer still stands.” 
Yeah, you can get behind it if he’s like this now. What happened to him, anyway? Puberty hit him like a brick and gave him, like, one more ounce of emotional maturity? 
You shake your head like a character in a piece of crappy romance fanfiction. No way. Not now, at least. Calm down. 
(...you’re just a girl.) 
“Well, no take backs from now on, okay? Even if it’s, like, five years into the future, you’ll still be using Gojo’s credit card to cover for all my travel expenses.” 
He does it again, that low, soft, attractive sound. Makes you want to hit him and hit yourself at the same time, and then kick your feet up in the air giddily, and then throttle yourself, if it were possible, out of sheer embarrassment. “Yeah.” 
You’re having the time of your life. 
“Anyway, how is everything else? Like, are your studies and grades okay? Is the training you do alright to handle?” 
“My grades are pretty okay,” he answers, “Not like Gojo cares, honestly. And the training’s fine, it’s nothing I’m not used to.” 
“Gojo seems like he’d be a good teacher. When he wants to, he can command respect pretty easily, too. I guess he just… chooses not to. But I saw it yesterday, when you and Yuuji were passed out in the hospital.” 
It still strikes a pang of guilt in your chest, your inability to have done anything else besides calling Gojo over for help. 
“...I suppose he does.” 
“Yeah.” 
“How about you? Itadori, he… he can be an idiot sometimes, but he speaks of you really admirably. He talks about how smart you are a lot.” 
The thought of Megumi calling Yuuji an idiot of all things doesn’t feel like it falls short from him, but it still makes you frown— though, you realise that that’s just his way of expressing things, because in a way he’d treated you somewhat the same in the past, even if he hadn’t shown it outright or expressed it very vividly. Classic Megumi. 
“Hey, he’s smarter than people give him credit for, okay? Wait until you see how talented he is at things other than sports and martial arts. You’d be surprised after trying the meatballs he makes. Would be good if you asked him to give you the recipe sometime; I make them, like, once a week, at least.” 
He sighs, “...I will. But the point is, he cares for you a lot.” 
“Yeah, beautiful soul, that guy. Loves people the way curious children love nature.” 
“That would be a fitting way to put it.” 
“How are the dogs?” 
“My shikigami?” 
“Yeah. Do they have names?” 
“The black one is Kuro and the white one is Shiro.” 
“You named them black and white?” 
“Look, I named them when I was barely six years old, and six year olds aren’t exactly the best when it comes to these things…” 
You giggle, “So the name stuck?” 
“Yeah, sort of.” 
Real cute. 
“What about your father? How is he?” 
“He’s okay, but, well. I guess we’re not that close anymore.” 
“...I see.” He probably can’t imagine a version of you who wasn’t immensely close to her parents. You couldn’t then, either. 
“We’ve been talking even less now that my mother’s in the hospital, but at least I get to talk to him before he eats, maybe. I’ve been doing most of the cooking now that my mother isn’t here and my father doesn’t really know how to handle himself in our kitchen without her guidance.” 
“Oh… if you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your mother?” 
“Cancer.” 
You can practically hear the gulp he’s taking, the bobbing of his throat— sensitive topic. “I’m… so sorry to hear that.” 
“It’s okay, don’t be,” you reassure him, “I should have told you that day anyway. I was just… exploding at everybody on that night. I should apologise— I’m sorry for how badly I treated you.” 
“No,” he goes, “No, you shouldn’t. I understand why you were like that that night. And it was mostly my fault, too, so…” 
“No, no, I’m serious! Feel free to ask almost anything as long as I have actual answers to your questions and all.” 
“Still… I just wanted to know. Sorry if I caused you any trouble.” 
“No— you didn’t do any of that at all, don’t worry! I’m alright with people asking about this. Ah, anyway… besides Yuuji, do you have any friends?” 
“Itadori and I aren’t friends.” 
“Trust me, if I asked him, I bet he’d beg to differ. Yuuji’s like that with people— soon he’ll be more important to you than you could have ever thought at first.”  
“Whatever you say,” he sort of grunts, “But I don’t have any friends, I think… except you, maybe. What about you?” 
You were honestly expecting him not to consider you a friend at all, and at this point so much has happened that wouldn’t even be that bothered if he no longer thought of you as one but called you anyway out of his commitment to his promises, or as an apology. 
“I’m surprised you can still call me a friend,” you say. Calling people instead of talking to them physically does something to your inhibitions. 
“...should I not?” 
“No, no, I’m happy,” you say over the phone. You’ll forget this conversation tomorrow, at least, when the sun has risen and the night returns back the hold you have over yourself, your composure, to you. You’ll act like this never happened. So you’ll say whatever you want to now, disgorging yourself of years of withheld secrets. “I’m happy that we’re still friends. I think I like that. 
“Yeah?” 
“Um— yeah, it seems like a good place to start,” you grin slightly. “And I, well. I don’t really have any friends beyond Yuuji,” —You’re not even sure if Tsumiki still sees you as a friend— “Even if I may have acquaintances like Sasaki or Iguchi it still feels like Yuuji’s one of the only people I can give that kind of title to, so, um… the more the merrier?” 
“That’s… nice.” 
“...it is, isn’t it?” 
“Thank you.” 
Why? “Okay.” 
The two of you go through the next few seconds in silence, time feeling like it’s blending and bleeding into a mix of years and events. You can hear the light, steady sound of his breathing from the other line. If you could, you’d sleep to it— fuck the phone bill, you’ll be the one paying it in your father’s stead this time if it was for this. 
It’s comforting, and you don’t want to break it— the quiet. If he can hear you now, can hear how you’re breathing through a smile with your chest only slightly moving, you hope it feels the same as the sound of his breathing did for you. You hope it feels just like home. Like a warm pillow in the one place you love the most that you bury your head into when the weather gets especially cold. 
“Fushiguro!” 
Oh dear. 
Wincing at the sound of the creaking door’s shrill shriek as it's opened and then hits the wall, you know exactly who it is— you’d recognise that voice anywhere. 
“Is that Yuuji?” 
“Oi! I told you not to barge into my room like that!” Megumi shouts. 
“Huh? You’re calling someone? Sorry. Wait, is it [Name]?” 
“It’s none of your business.” 
“Hi, Yuuji.” 
“Can I talk to her?” 
“Is it alright if we do, Megumi? Just for a few seconds.” 
“Fine,” he sighs. You can practically hear that eye roll. 
“Yo!” he cheers. 
“Has everything been okay lately?” you ask. 
“Yeah. We’re meeting a new student soon.”
“Ah, yeah. Megumi told me.” 
“—Oh, and my uniform came in! It looks pretty neat.” 
“That’s good. Maybe you can send me a picture once you start wearing it, then.” 
“I will!” 
Things are going better than you thought they would. 
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21-6-2018
It’s been a few days now. 
You don’t know Sasaki and Iguchi well enough to call them friends, but the three of you do know each other. You had never decided to change any contacts with them, and considering that they and you were never closer than acquaintances, friends of a friend— you had never really regretted it. But now that Yuuji is gone— and you know he’s not dead, but still— you wonder whether you should have gotten closer to them, just to be less alone once Yuuji left, even if it could not be the way things were with Yuuji. (“I thought I was a pretty lonely guy, and sometimes I still do. Like— I mean, you’re a lonely girl too sometimes, I think,” he had told you as you patched him up.) 
Still, Yuuji and you were two peas in a pod— so they’re bound to ask what happened to him soon enough, especially Iguchi. 
You’ll have to start getting used to spending your Thursdays alone. And then you’d have to start getting used to every other day without him, too. If you went to the arcade or watched movies or sing-screamed the lyrics to English songs you don’t know the Japanese translations of without his presence there, you know how it wouldn’t feel the same. In life it’s not what you do that matters, you’ve come to realise— it’s who you’re doing these things with. That’s what puts meaning to it all and makes all things done in your life worthwhile. 
The two of them pass you by during lunch. 
“[Last Name]? —Oh, hey!” Sasaki says as she turns around. 
You almost scream and run away like a mouse fleeing from the eyes of a vicious house cat, tremors in your voice. “Hello…” 
“Where’s Yuuji, by the way? The occult club’s going to fall apart without him.” 
You pause. “He transferred to another school…” 
“Huh?” she goes, Iguchi almost reeling back in shock. “Transferred? But why? We’ve barely even made it to the middle of the year!” 
“I… I don’t know, it was something really urgent,” 
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23-6-2018 
Your room is a cluttered mess— lucky as you are that it’s the weekend, the past week has been a rollercoaster that knocked your room’s usual standard of cleanliness off track. Scattered all over your desk were worksheets, notebooks, graph paper pages and foolscap paper, chicken-scratch writing and meticulous notes scribbled all over them to compensate for your absence the day after the incident took place. 
It isn’t the time or the discipline you lack— it’s just that it’s going to be awfully tedious. You’ll have to wipe your desk again, and clean the walls, and sort through all your clothes, too, since you haven’t been folding them in any way that isn’t merely fastidious and nearly careless. So as you get to work, you suppose that calling someone wouldn’t hurt. 
Maybe you could call Megumi. That would be okay. 
For the past few years, you’ve never noticed it. So when you do, it hits you like a bullet train at the fastest of speeds. 
You miss him. Not just in the way you miss 2010, the way you miss the past, the way you miss and mourn the person you used to be. It had been so obvious for Tsumiki, but not for him, and now that you know this it’ll be another quiet revelation— another rediscovery of fragments of yourself concealed by memories. 
You miss him— all of him; you yearned to be his friend again because he was unlike Tsumiki who you knew cherished you as you did her; you miss him regardless of who he is now, because somewhere inside him is the boy who read dog books and brought you to the school library and ran your finger through water when you burned it. Somewhere inside him is the person who offered to hold your bag as he walked with you through a snowy garden, and helped you when your nose bled. 
So it would be okay to call Megumi right now. 
“Fushiguro speaking.” 
“Hi, Megumi. Are you busy?” 
“Not right now.” 
“Want to call?” 
“Fushiguro!” It’s Yuuji. “Wanna go—” 
“I said I’m not going!” 
You chuckle, “Be nice. Were the two of you supposed to go somewhere?” 
“Nothing important. Gojo said he wanted us to ‘bond’ with each other, so he concluded that we could watch a movie. Some kind of gory horror film or something.” 
He’s… actually making an obvious effort not to scold Yuuji that much or call him some insulting, derogatory term this time… wow. 
“Ah, yeah. Yuuji likes his horror movies.” 
“Anyway, anything urgent you wanted to tell me?” 
“No, I’m just… uh—” you laugh nervously, “I’m just a little bored.” Nowadays you’re not really sure what he’d do— scold you, maybe, or roll his eyes so hard that you can hear it over the line, or he may even flash into a quick bit of awkwardness and hesitation through his words. 
Or maybe— and this was the worst of it all, he’d ask why you were calling him, and his bouts of awkwardness would have only been something temporary, soon to be replaced once again by anger and annoyance, the same he gives to everyone else— even if you knew he didn’t always mean it, per se. No more special treatment for you. 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah, uh… I have to clean, and usually it’s not as much as what I have to do today, so I just thought that since the only other person in the house is my father and we don’t really talk much anymore, we could, um… chat for a while. Yeah.” 
“Okay.” 
“Uh-huh, so.” You stand up, leaving your phone on your desk and putting the call on speaker mode. The mountain of papers and books is a wasteland and your desk has been degraded to a landfill— the state of it would make your mother a wailing mess— no, she’d faint instantly as soon as she saw it, becoming worse of a mess than the table itself was. “Anything interesting happened lately?” 
“Not really.” 
“Oh—! Yuuji sent me a picture of his uniform the other day. Was that one special?” 
“Yeah. But they let students make adjustments to the uniform, and he said he hadn’t changed anything, so I think that was Gojo’s doing.” 
“Oh, well, that’s Gojo. It suits him, though, right? Not to sound mean or be presumptuous, but…” you chuckle, “When you wear the uniform, you look so formal. It’s not a bad thing— it’s just that Yuuji’s just always been more casual like that. And the red of the hoodie goes with his hair, too!” 
“I guess so.” 
“I can’t imagine you wearing anything other than the default uniform, though. Not to insult you, I mean, you still look good in the normal uniform, I just— can’t imagine it.” You remark, sorting the materials and books by size and subject. You’ve got to handle some of the drawers, too, now that you’ve started and can’t stop your momentum just yet. You can already feel the dust particles that have gathered on whatever is inside them still, jostling around once you’ve taken them out. 
“If you’re going to say it like that, you can just say it outright.” 
“No, no! I mean that I just can’t imagine you wearing, like, Yuuji’s uniform. Wait, what do the other students’ uniforms look like?” 
“The second years?” 
“Yeah. Did they choose the normal ones?” 
“Inumaki did. They have three boys and one girl, but only two of the boys wear the normal uniform. Okkotsu has a special uniform in white.” 
“Oh, I see,” you nod your head, “It’s a nice uniform, though. I wish I could wear a uniform that pretty.” 
“You could always enrol yourself here,” he suggests, “They’d welcome you with open arms.” 
“Maybe they will,” you chuckle, “But my mother would be adamant on me staying in the ‘normal’ world. She’s unyielding like that.” 
“And your father?”
“Wouldn’t mind, at least I don’t think…” you say, “I’ll have to wonder when to tell him if I do end up in jujutsu high; you never know when he’s mad. He’s always unpredictable like that nowadays and it’s not… particularly pleasant.” 
“I see. It would be good if you were here, though. You would be closer to Dr Ieiri that way. And it would do good, because, um… well, I’d like you here. You’d be… good for the people around you here.” 
“Ah, you— you would?” you ask, slightly phased— not like he hasn’t been a bit nicer to you since you’ve seen him again (maybe it was the awkwardness, maybe it was the guilt). “Thank you,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging up sheepishly, heading to the dusty drawer (you haven’t touched it in what feels like years, usually excluding it from your list of things to clean). 
After a scrupulous amount of wiping away at the dust outside of and surrounding it, you open the drawer with a slight bit of anticipation— you don’t expect much, but you’re a person who lingers on the past like a ghost that has forgotten how time has passed. There wouldn’t be much in this drawer to reminisce on, you presume, but you still approach it with an eager fascination— you’re the type to do so, after all. 
Of everything there, the most noteworthy are two things you grabbed almost immediately— you could never forget how they felt, and the weight that they held in your life back then: a letter, addressed but never delivered to the person you were talking to right now, and a cigarette with a hastily scribbled slew of numbers on it and a lipstick mark on its end. 
Oh, that letter. That letter.  
From what you remember, you’ve never rebelled against your parents before. At least, not with anything major— for a long time, you were their good girl, and you never disobeyed them, as much as you wanted to at times. You still are, still stuck with that age-old drive to be useful. (But was there even a point in that anymore? At least, was there one with your parents?). You didn’t picture yourself as any kind of righteous goody-two-shoes, but you definitely weren’t a rebel or a delinquent. You followed their instructions and seldom ever questioned what they told you, and so it had always been subtly implanted in your brain that they would be alright with anything you did or said. Yet the first time you did actually start to question them, you realised that their belief in your ‘obedience’ as pure love— and maybe it was; you loved them so much you were blinded and trusted them with everything and did anything they wanted their baby to do— you realised they only treated you so lovingly if you were not an actual person with your own ideals and beliefs. 
(But they still loved you, right?) 
Even now, you still do obey them and listen to them. If your father needed anything, he could consider it done; if your mother wanted her clothes to be patched up you’d try your utmost best to withstand the pricking of needles and bring it back to her hospital room with bandaged fingers. It was like that with your mother: even if at times it seemed like the only pain she wanted for you was callouses from a pen or pricks from needles, at other times you feel she could have known you’d end up like her, maybe. Maybe she saw it as a curse: the worlds the two of you were born in were different, and she wanted you to stay in yours, lest you die or live in a world of endless pain. 
You’ve been doing it for a long time: being dismissive of yourself, prone to self-prostration, subservient; the lovingness of a mother, the sweetness of a teenage girl (you hoped), the kindness of a caring friend. Maybe it was Tsumiki— maybe it was because you’d always seen this in Tsumiki. She was always smiling, always caring; taking on the weight of motherhood before she could carry the weight of her school bag. Hugging you with her saccharine smile; braiding her hair with gentle hands and holding your wrist with her hair tie on it even gentler. (You still have it with you. You had planned to start taking it off more once Yuuji left, but you suppose some habits take longer than a week to develop.) All while having that sickening, fantastical, mysterious sweetness of a teenage girl in what you now understand could have been a hidden misery— because caring for someone like a mother while suppressing the thoughts that spoke to you to act like a child was something you wanted to replicate until you realised you understood it. And then you no longer wanted to recreate it. (Maybe that was the way it was for every woman or girl you knew: watching someone you loved hurt themself or not being able to do anything to prevent it when they started. Life was a cycle that way. A very annoying, frustrating one full of unfortunate circumstances and wrongly-picked out decks of cards.) 
“…you know what? I think I may be able to come,” you tell him. 
“You don’t have to go against your father for our sake.” 
“No, don’t worry about it. I think I know who to ask for help. Thank you, Megumi.” 
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“Hi, Dr Ieiri?” 
“Kid? That you?” she goes, the slightest bit of excitement stark against her usual deadpan tone. “I thought you’d never call because of that old man.” 
“Haha, yeah— sorry to disturb you, but, um, Dr Ieiri? I may want to take you up on that offer, by the way, but um, I’m still on the fence. I mean, I know I want to be like you and do what you do but… I don’t know, I’m not quite sure about leaving the two of them alone here and all. But anyway, I just called you because I wanted to ask if there was, you know, any way you could get me to Tokyo somehow. I need to pass something to someone, but, um… I guess I’m going with this with the hope that I’ll change my mind and join you. But I’m… perpetually on the fence for now, I guess.” 
“Pft,” she snorts, “You little rebel, I’m in. I’ll see what I can do.” 
“Thank you so much.” 
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24-6-2018 
The decision and the plan were made as swiftly as you could. 
You decide to tell your father— you wouldn’t want to deceive him, after all. At least, you’d give him a quick notice. And then you’d leave. Like a snowflake before the first day of spring. He’ll probably tell your mother.  
“I’m leaving for Tokyo for a while,” you say, “I’ll be back before you can even realise I’m gone. Invitation from Dr Ieiri.” 
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25-6-2018
“Why?” your father asks, the night before you leave. He suggested going out together at least once before you left. He always knew when you were making white lies. 
“I guess that maybe I’m just too much like you, Daddy.” 
For the first time in years he hugs you on the doorstep, patting you on the back on the day you’re set to leave. “Make sure you study and work hard,” he reminds you. 
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“I’m leaving for Tokyo,” you announce.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving us for a boy,” she goes, rolling her eyes. She doesn’t even blink. 
“I’m not.” You are. 
“You know, your father travelled all over the country to see me again after we’d first met.” 
“Oh. Okay?” 
“And he’s always been dedicated to his job and dedicated to helping people.” 
“Uh huh.” 
“I’m saying that the two of you are very similar. I’ve lived through this story before,” she states, “And you look just like your father right now.” your mother says. She hasn’t smiled the way she used to— you remember it vividly, that vibrant gleam in her, the liveliest and loveliest of life— in ages and you don’t think she will, not now of all times. 
“Really? Sometimes he says I take after you more.” 
“You will.” 
It doesn’t feel like a curse. Even if it usually would make your heart well up in guilt, it doesn’t feel like a curse. 
Maybe she knows that her time is running out. Maybe this is resignation. Whatever it is, you hold her hand first, but you’re also the first one to let the other go, your fingers slipping away from hers. You leave the door for the last time in a while, making another round in your life of that carousel of abandonment and reuniting and departures. 
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25-6-2018 
Dr Ieiri greets you with a calm smile on her pallid face. 
“Good to see you again.” 
“It’s good to be back here,” you sigh. 
It is. 
You keep your hand on your other hand’s wrist, holding them in front of you. The cherry hair tie on it feels warm against your skin as you exit the station, summer heat embracing it softly. 
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taglist:
@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored
(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)
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OKAY CHENRICH FANS. i have a dilemma.
i have been working on a multichapter AU that currently only has ONE chapter finished. the chapter itself is about 8K words long.
the DILEMMA is thus. i have currently shelved this AU for the time being due to it having extremely complex plot threads that i HAVE NOT yet begun to untangle.
i've been sitting on this chapter for.... several months because i've been content to just keep it to myself until i had inspiration to keep working through the complex plot.
BUT. is there anyone out there who would be interested in reading the unfinished chapter anyway?
the summary, if anyone is interested, currently stands as such
Steph believes she has finally escaped her past by finding refuge in Haven Springs. She is working at her dream job - the dream job she has settled for, at least - at the small town’s record shop. But when a thunderstorm, the worst Haven has experienced in years, sweeps through the town, Steph’s trauma from the destruction of her own hometown soon catches up with her. On that very same night, Steph receives a strange phone call from someone who seems to know her somehow. As if they had met before in another life. From then on, Steph’s life is turned upside-down and begins spiraling rapidly out of control. Her sleep is plagued by nightmares of darkness and death and she becomes haunted by memories that don’t seem to be entirely her own. The only person who can give her answers? The mysterious caller who contacted her on the night of that fateful thunderstorm. The very same stranger who seemed to know her intimately. Except for one small problem. Whoever this stranger is, they don’t seem to exist.
so like.... if i posted it to AO3 where it will have no definite future of being completed Any Time Soon... who would be interested?
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luveline · 3 months
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Hiiii sugarplum. I would absolutely adore some stripper reader x Hotch maybe like some of him comforting her or just coming to visit like outside of the case and some fluff 🥰🥰
ty for requesting!! fem
You’re texting on the wall outside of work when a shadow cuts across the streetlight illuminating your lap. Your head flinches up, phone to your chest, but the man standing in front of you isn’t one you’ve ever been scared of. “Fuck, Aaron, you scared me,” you say with a nervous laugh. 
He smiles at you in his gentle, unassuming way. “Sorry. I took care to scuff my shoes as I walked.”
“Oh, you took care,” you say. Your smile is far less gentle than his; your cheeks apple, your words coloured with it. “I was in my own world.” 
“I thought we talked about you coming outside alone.”
“Did we?” you ask, the short wall you’re sitting on biting into your hands and thighs as you tip back to grin at him teasingly. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, I can’t seem to remember any such talk.” 
“Mm.” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t remember that?” 
“Don’t recall, no.”
“So you also won’t remember the conversation we had about flowers.” 
Your first date, your only date, and your first bouquet. He’d given you flowers and read the embarrassment on your face immediately. You aren’t the kind of girl who gets flowers. 
What’s wrong? he’d asked. 
You’d held the flowers to your chest, something in you worried he’d take them away, though you’re almost positive he’s incapable of being cruel like that. Do I look stupid? 
Of course you don’t. 
There hadn’t been much else to say about the flowers, until after the evening had gone well, and he’d asked you for another date. High with the delight of knowing Spencer’s nice, handsome boss doesn’t just think you’re pretty, he likes you, you’d said Sure, if you bring me another lovely bouquet, we can go on as many dates as you like. 
Aaron pulls the bouquet from behind his back. Petals bounce off of his tie, pinks and whites and baby blues against his black blazer and pristine white shirt as he taps his chest. They’re beautiful, and far too many. 
“Are they really for me?” you ask. You’ve never seen such a big bouquet in your life. It’s a wonder they fit behind his back. 
The strangest thing about dating him has been his sudden propensity for moments of shyness. “That depends,” he says, the slightest hint of nerves in his otherwise dulcet tone, “are they nice enough?” 
“They’re the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen.” You stand up and hold out your hands, pull them back to your chest, and then hold them back out again. You can’t not want them. 
He hands them off to you. 
It must be weird for him to meet you like this. He’s very high up the ladder of his career, and it doesn’t make much sense for him to fall for you. You’re younger, less educated, less prestigiously employed. You hadn’t understood what it was about you that pulled him in, but you can remember how clearly he told you he was interested in you. No shame. Not a hint of reluctance. He’s bringing you flowers outside of the stripclub, ignoring the fact that you’re in sweatpants and a tight corset-type bra, and he hasn’t looked at your body once. 
“I was just texting you,” you say, opening your phone to press send on the text waiting in the hot bar. 
Aaron’s phone immediately pings. 
He reads it quickly. It isn’t a long message. Hi, handsome. Want to pick me up tonight? 
If he’d said yes or no didn’t matter, because you’d just wanted to talk to him, and here he is. 
He finally ducks in. A half side step into your reach, his face angled down, he kisses you chastely on the lips and everything fades away. The neon pink at your feet, the buzzing streetlights and the passing cars, the steady thump of music from three different buildings, it all disappears under his warm hand. He kisses you, and he hugs you to his chest, careful not to crush your flowers. You could glow from the inside out. 
He’s still smiling as he pulls away. “Are you hungry?” he asks softly. 
“So hungry.” 
“We can get anything you want.” 
“Really? What if I want the same as last time?” 
It had been expensive and you’d felt vaguely underdressed. Aaron doesn’t baulk. “Anything you want… You may need to wear my jacket, though. I don’t think your current outfit adheres to their dress code.” 
You push the flowers just under his nose. “Funny.”
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cor-lapis · 4 months
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I decided to have a go at doing my own redesigns because these three are my favourites and I love them very much. further notes + sources under the readmore (warning: lots of text). I did my best with the research, but if there's anything I overlooked, I'd really appreciate people letting me know :)
Tighnari:
My main source for Tighnari was this excellent thread, from which I looked up each item of clothing individually. Since djellabas tend to be quite long, and Tighnari needs mobility for forest ranger activities, I figured he would cut and re-hem the lower half. He also has a lot of clothing pieces that are traditionally multicoloured, but to keep his design cohesive I decided to use the same colours across different items, but using a larger palette of colours than I would usually. I like the bright colours on him a lot though!
There are also some minor details I just changed because I wanted to. The flower on his chest is now a nilotpala lotus, because I thought it was nice to include his acension material/the material he asks you to help gather. The dirt stains/scuff marks are because rainforests are muddy and I wanted the design to emphasise Tighnari being very practical and hands-on with his work (see also, the specimen belt).
Finally, I shrunk the magnifying glass on his back (because I'm pretty sure it's meant to be his first magnifying glass toy and that thing is very large for a child to handle) and gave him an undercut because it seemed right. Also, I merged his front and back trailing cloths into a scarf type of thing that he could wrap around his nose and mouth to prevent inhaling spores from mushrooms.
Collei:
COLLEI my beloved. I had a mild nightmare trying to figure out a specific source culture for her design, but nobody seemed to know specifics and her outfit wasn't matching with any traditional dress I looked up, so in the end decided to keep the overall look the same. Just in case I assigned her something else, but then it turned out I missed her actual inspiration.
Anyway, I made her shoes simpler (no fur, heels, and open toes in the rainforest seemed reasonable to me), and gave her shorts. I liked the green colour because it's pretty unique under a dark dress, and pairs nicely with Nahida's white dress + green undersides. Amber's tie stays, but I made most of her jewellery smaller since it felt a little clunky for a trainee ranger.
Her earring and necklace(?) are allusions to the Evil Eye and the Khmissa/Hamsa, both symbols of protection. Especially considering the fact they're meant to ward off evil, and very common across multiple MENA cultures, it seemed fitting for Collei to have them. Also, she has Eleazar scars, and I used the design for her stockings as inspiration for the combination knee braces (similar to those used for arthritis, since Eleazar also causes stiff limbs and I HC that people affected would probably still need some recovery support)/knee pads (in the case of a fall). I like the idea that Kaveh would have helped make them for her (tangent but the fic Here is the House explores similar ideas; it's really really good, I heavily recommend it). Finally, she has curly hair because I thought it would be cute.
Cyno:
Here's the thread I found for Cyno. The main critique was to do with the eras from which each aspect of his clothing drew inspiration, but I admittedly wouldn't be able to do much about this without a lot of research. One thing I did try and verify was the small strip of cloth on the left of his chest, and I found a few wall murals where the people seem to be wearing similar strips of cloth? (example here; rightmost figure) Therefore, I didn't remove it, but if someone wants to explain Ancient Egyptian clothing history to me I'd be really interested to hear it 6.6
I might iterate on the design in the future, but for now the changes are mostly HC territory. Cyno wearing his hair in locs (a protective hairstyle) makes sense for someone who does a lot of hiking after rogue scholars, and I also gave him quite old and faded top surgery scars because healthcare is canonically free in Sumeru (thanks for that information, al-Haitham)(though tbf Cyno makes bank anyway). I also adjusted the colours a bit, since Genshin tends to use desaturated shades for metallic elements.
I also considered giving Cyno more scars, but figured that it could indicate Hermanubis' presence that someone you'd expect to get injured a lot is relatively scar-free (i.e. some sort of godly healing factor/resistance to damage). However, we know next to nothing about Hermanubis, so Cyno having a lot of scars also makes sense. This paragraph is mostly just a cry for help cyno story quest 2 literally any more elaboration about the nature of Hermanubis' pact and the Temple of Silence.
Conclusion
I wasn't intending to write one when I started the explanations but this got REALLY long so if you made it this far, thank you so so much ToT please check out the links; the threads especially were a great resource, and I'm grateful that people take the time to make them <3 genshin's character design department are cowards but I'm glad I learned some new things through the redesign process
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noneorother · 4 days
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The art director & the Good Omens book cover tier list of doom, part 1
part 1 l part 2
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This is going to have to be a multi-part series because there are *checks notes* 64 different covers that I've found so far.
I am your resident Art Director/Good Omens enthusiast, and welcome to my completely meta-free book cover tier list. Listen, making a book cover is HARD. I should know. But while we salute these artists for their hard work and time, I think we can all admit that once in a while, the vision is just not on. And on very rare occasions, publishers seemed to have managed to commission the cover art directly from hell... 1. The original UK cover
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Ahh, the standard by which all shall be judged. We're starting off with a nice & easy cover, with adorable woodcuts of Aziraphale and Crowley flanking a custom Good Omens font! While I have to take a few points off for the terrible kerning of the word "GoOD", the blockprint vibes and general bitchiness of Aziraphale's teeny weeny wittle face, along with the sick colour palette puts the orignial in my good graces. Tier: Great
2. The duelling US covers
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Progress! Hail to the designer who figured out trying to make "GoOD" and "OMeNs" fit the same width was a fool's errand, and even managed to IMPROVE on the original handmade title by adding a little halo and devil's tale to the design. Aziraphale and Crowley are facing each other, while also managing to serve absolute cunt. Aziraphale is wearing EIGHTIES SNEAKERS. Crowley's little snake boots have HEELS. They've managed to keep the woodcut vibes and colour simplicity, while balancing out the full title of the book. Both authors get to trade off on who's name comes first! Dare I say, this is a work of genius. I could dock some points for Crowley's sad bat wings growing out of his right clavicle, but who am I to question greatness.
Tier: Blessed by God Herself
3. The Halo Master Chief(?) cover
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How the mighty have fallen... As a Canadian child, I was subjected to maybe the most horrifying ad in existence by the War Amps warning children about machine safety. This cover is the paper embodiment of that ad. I am confused by the purple haze. I am frightened by the seeming ethereal flatness of Adam and Dog. I am strangely aroused by Aziraphale's eyebrows, and intensely saddened by the terrible outline/drop shadow they had to inflict on the type to fit "Pratchett" in that god awful space. Tier: WTF
4. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers
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This cover inexplicably exists in two colour ways: red and teal. I put the audiobook cover here so you could experience the full illustration, and also how fucked up it is that they cropped the book version to include three horse-people of the apocalypse, but cut off DEATH on the regular cover. Points must be given for drawing a pretty slick Bentley, but I think we have to take even more points away for turning Crowley into a Ray Charles/Mike Wazowski hybrid. The ducks are nice. Tier: Not so Good (Omens)
5. Germany, Ein Gutes Omen covers continued
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I don't know if the German designer of this cover *knew* that they were using western yeehaw cowboy woodblock letters when they made this cover, but judging by how they spaced the rest of the text at the bottom, THEY DID NOT CARE. And that seems to be a running theme for this one. We get kind of a duality thing going on with the black and pink background, but it just seems like somebody whispered the general themes of Good Omens into a jar, and threw it down a well, and this poor chap came along and picked it up. The baffling choice to align every piece of text on the cover *except* Neil Gaiman's name which is right aligned and rotated 90 degrees (not even real vertical type) will haunt my dreams, I think.
Tier: Bad
6. US, UK The Traffic Jam cover
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For the love of Good Omens, WHY. I can think of so many more interesting symbols to put on the cover of this book than the ODEGRA SIGIL TRAFFIC JAM. Props for keeping the good colours and type, but like, I think this cover was secretly designed by @amtrak-official, or someone who just really, really likes public works. Tier: Does the Job
7. France, De bons présages cover
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Leave it to France to make sure people know that Aziraphale and Crowley fuck severely. While I can't condone leaving out half the title of the book (and thinking a red carpenter's square counts as decoration), I can begrudgingly acknowledge that Ron Pearlman and Benedict Cumberbatch's love child is excellent Crowley casting. I think I give this a solid dark academia/10. Tier: Good (Omens)
8. France, De bons présages covers continued
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Just imagine with me, if you will, the absolutely hilarious reality that this cover posits: Good Omens is exactly the same in every respect, but Crowley drives a pink 1950s convertible. Why do all of the colours on this cover look like they've been pre-digested? Why are the font choices and placement so bafflingly bad. My face is the demon's face holding that car. I feel his pain.
Tier: WTF
9. France, De bons présages covers continued
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Minus points for not managing to write the full title of the book once again. I don't know what it is with the French. They seem pretty set on Good Omens being demonic. While I do appreciate a good Bosch-style demon party, the dude in the middle confounds me. All-caps Museo Sans that isn't even *centred* in the frame is just so lazy. I am le tired. Tier: Bad
10. France, De bons présages covers continued
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Uhh. The font. The font is okay.... I think? Yeah. The font and kerning are. Okay. OHHH GOD I LOOKED DOWN BELOW THE TEXT WHYYYY. Tier: WTF
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END of round one. I need a nap.
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nataliasquote · 3 months
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Double the trouble | a day out | n romanoff
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Part of the ‘Double the trouble AU’
Summary: a day trip with 2 3-year-olds is a lot to handle…
Warnings: none
Pairings: WandaNat
wc: 2.9k
note: this was a request from anon (my first request!) so I hope I did it justice
- ⧗ -
Isla was always the loudest twin. She had all her firsts before her sister; word, steps, you name it, she beat Y/n to it. Which often left the younger girl feeling behind and unworthy, born to only follow in the shadows of her twin sister.
Natasha and Wanda tried their hardest to treat their girls equally, but with Y/n’s reluctance to try anything new and Isla’s strong temperament, they had a difficult situation on their hands.
Being three years old meant days were filled with trips to the park and fun days out for the whole family. Isla had been begging to go to the zoo, the colourful picture books she begged Wanda to read every night cementing her love for animals. Y/n nodded when asked if she wanted to go too. But what was she supposed to say? She did everything Isla did.
But the zoo wasn’t her thing. Whilst her older sister toddled around and pointed animatedly at all the different animals, Y/n stayed beside the stroller, her tiny hands fiddling with the fabric seat as she stared at the concrete pavement. Natasha tried her hardest to involve her, often picking her up so she could see over the fences and pointing to the monkeys who were chasing each other around the enclosure. But the little girl was having none of it, her fist wrapped around the strap of her mama’s tank top.
“What’s the matter maylshka?” Natasha asked, holding Y/n tight to her body as she lead them both over to a nearby bench. “I thought you loved the zoo?”
The small girl shook her head, flaming hair falling loose from its braids. “Isla like zoo. Not me.”
Natasha’s brow furrowed as she looked at her daughter. “But you said you wanted to go?”
Y/n gave her mother a glare. A very familiar one at that. “No. Isla said go. Not me.”
Natasha shifted so her daughter was now sat on her knee. She gently moved a stray piece of hair from her forehead and kissed it gently, rubbing the soft cotton of her t-shirt. “I’m sorry malyshka. I thought you wanted to go too.”
“It’s ok Mama,” Y/n said, placing her cool palms on her mother’s warm cheeks. Natasha smiled softly at the gesture and booped her on the nose, making the young girl giggle. “Can we get ice cream?”
Natasha pretended to think for a moment. “Ice cream? Hmmm, I don’t know.”
“I think yes!”
“Do you? And does Y/n make the rules now?”
The young girl nodded happily, her whole body moving with the force. “Ice cream!”
“Ok, big girl. Let’s get ice cream.” Natasha stood up from her seat and began to set Y/n down on the ground, but the three year old clung to her front like the monkeys behind her, tiny heels digging into Natasha’s waist. There were many things Nat loved about her youngest, but Y/n’s clingy nature was by far her favourite. It made her feel wanted, important.
With a stroller handle in one hand and a child balanced carefully in the other, Nat set off towards the jungle themed cafe she’d spotted on the map by the gate. Wanda had taken Isla off to god knows where, the young girl unable to sit still with so much happening around her.
The cafe itself was rather busy so Natasha expertly manoeuvred the stroller into a corner booth table and kicked the brake down so it wouldn’t roll into anyone’s way. She sank down onto the cushioned blue seat and allowed Y/n to straddle her lap, soft red hair tickling her nostrils as the young girl lay against her mother’s chest.
Natasha quickly scanned her surroundings before pulling out her phone and punching a quick update text to Wanda, who replied back with a video of Isla at the penguin enclosure.
“Look Y/n,” she turned her phone so the young girl could see but Y/n didn’t pay much attention. She watched for two seconds before her head went straight back to Natasha’s collarbone, finding more comfort there than anywhere else. “You’re really not bothered by the zoo, huh?”
Y/n shook her head lazily, her thumb coming up to brush against her lips, a telltale sign for Natasha who was well trained in motherhood.
“I think someone’s tired?” Another sleepy nod. “You wanna go for a nap, detka?” Talking was clearly too much for Y/n, who only replied with yet another nod. Natasha took her response and pulled the stroller close. However, she was met with some resistance as she tried to transfer a now squirmy three year old into her seat. “What’s wrong?”
“-na stay with you,” Y/n mumbled around her thumb before Nat gently prised it out of her mouth. Y/n’s big green eyes blinked up at her tiredly and Natasha couldn’t help but coo at the sight. Her girls were the most adorable things in her life and when they were tired they were so precious.
Nat moved her body back into the corner of the booth and allowed Y/n to swivel around so she was flat against her chest, cheek resting comfortably on the softness of Natasha’s chest. They may not be fed like that anymore, but the twins still found great comfort from their mamas’ chests.
It didn’t take long for Y/n’s breaths to even out and Natasha couldn’t help but take a quick selfie with her daughter, the moment too precious to capture. She stared at her screen with a blissful expression before posting it to her close friends’ instagram story. Only family and the occasional friend was allowed on there, and Yelena of course was the first to send a reply.
@ yelenabelova7
you better be bringing those munchkins to me soon. I want baby Y/n hugs too
Natasha rolled her eyes and laughed as she replied, flawlessly typing even with one hand.
@ natromanoff
i’m impressed you got the twin right. and i’m not putting them on a plane so you’ll have to come here. I know isla would love that.
@ yelenabelova7
I can’t believe you doubt me Natasha. I know my Y/n when I see her. Besides, she’s always clinging to you. You got the quiet one. Wanda has her hands full with the other monkey
@ natromanoff
They’re both our children, Lena. Wands is just happy to be dragged around a zoo. I’d rather sit
@ yelenabelova7
HA! You’re getting old sestra. You’re a mother, not a grandma. Not yet anyway.
Yelena’s comment made Natasha roll her eyes and place her phone down on the table. She cradled Y/n’s head to her chest and rocked her gently back and forth. A smile broke out across her face as she spotted her wife push through the large glass doors, Isla tugging on her arm impatiently.
Natasha held a finger up to her lips as her favourite girls approached, trying not to disturb her youngest. But her efforts were in vain as Y/n recognised the approaching voices and lifted her head to peer around. Wanda bent down and kissed her head softly, brushing her hair back as she pulled away.
“Hello sleepy head,” she cooed, taking a seat on the opposite bench and pulling Isla onto her lap. “Did the ice cream make you sleepy?”
“We didn’t even get that far, did we?” Natasha laughed, watching as Y/n’s head perked up at the mention of the sweet dessert.
“Can we get it now?”
Wanda looked down at Isla. “You wanna get some with me and we can bring it back for Y/n and Mama?”
“Sure!”
“Me go too!” Y/n squirmed off Natasha’s lap and ran over to Wanda, taking the hand on her other side. “Mama stay?” She asked, looking back at Natasha.
The redhead nodded. “I’ll hold down the fort.”
Wanda led the twins away like a mother duck and her ducklings, holding their hands tight until they reached the large glass cabinet. The young woman behind the counter smiled at the precious sight in front of her as the twins stretched up on their toes to peer in.
“Pink!” Y/n exclaimed, pointing to the candy floss ice cream that sounded disgusting in Wanda’s eyes. “Can I get pink?”
“Mommy I want chocolate!”
“What do we say when we want something?” Wanda asked, putting on her best ‘mom’ voice.
“Pleeeeeese?” The girls chorused, tiny toothy smiles dazzling up at their mommy. The worker chuckled and caught Y/n’s eye so she smiled widely at her too.
“That’s better. And yes, you can get whatever you would like. But you have to ask the nice lady politely.”
Isla being Isla spoke up first, puffing out her chest as she took a deep breath. “Please can I have chocolate please?” She pointed into the cabinet, just in case the server wasn’t sure which one was chocolate.
“Of course you can sweetheart. Is that in a cone or a cup?” Isla looked at her blankly and turned to Wanda, a clear cry for help.
“The smallest cone you do please. And just one scoop.” The girl nodded and began preparing her order. “They don’t need too much sugar.”
Once Isla’s order was complete the server turned to Y/n who was staring intently at all the colourful flavours. “Which one would you like sweetheart?”
“Pink?”
“Strawberry?” Y/n looked up at Wanda, tugging her sleeve for help. The mother shook her head and watched to see which one her daughter pointed too. Granted, Y/n could barely point in the right direction but her intention was enough to go off.
“I think she means the candyfloss. The one with the glitter on it.”
Y/n’s was scooped into a similar cone to Isla and then placed on the stand. Wanda quickly sorted herself and Natasha out; two scoops of honeycomb crunch in a cup for herself, and a double scoop of caramel coffee for Nat. Wanda always teased her wife for crunching on the coffee beans that topped her scoop. Natasha sure was a strange one when it came to her flavour preferences.
Ice creams clutched tightly in hands, Wanda ushered her little ducklings back to the safety of the booth where Natasha was waiting, a large grin plastered onto her face that mirrored that of her ice cream laden babies.
Sweet treats were consumed from the safety of the jungle themed cafe and Isla and Y/n swung their feet happily as they nibbled on their cones. Sticky hands and faces were just inevitable and Wanda was soon ready to attack both with baby wipes the second they were done.
“Did you two see everything you wanted to?” Natasha asked, scrolling through the pictures on Wanda’s phone of Isla at various exhibits.
“I saw lions!” Isla bared her teeth and roared, shaking her head like she’d seen the majestic creature do hours earlier. “And the ‘raffes!”
“Giraffes?”
“Yeah!”
Y/n tugged on Natasha’s sleeve and pointed to part of the mural covering the wall to her right. “They have those here?”
The colourful sea creatures were definitely oversaturated; pink sharks didn’t sit comfortably with Natasha. But she followed Y/n finger to a sparkly blue turtle and smiled, noticing how Isla and Wanda also did the same.
“I saw a sign for an aquarium around the corner,” Wanda said. “There could be turtles in there.”
“We go!”
“Now hold on a minute-“ Wanda started, but telling two sugared-up three years olds on a mission to slow down was a fruitless effort. Natasha grabbed both of their tiny wrists and gently tugged them back to the table, earning little angry glares from both girls.
“What did we say about running off?”
“But-“
“Not buts, Y/n. What did we say?”
“Don’t run off,” they said in unison, the floor now much more interesting than Natasha who wasn’t smiling. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok munchkin, just wait 2 minutes and we’ll be ready.”
Wanda and Natasha packed up quickly and headed towards the aquarium side of the zoo, eyes glued to the two little girls in front of them whose hands were tightly clasped together. They may have their favourite parent and stay glued to their side, but Y/n and Isla’s bond truly was unbreakable. Starkly different, yet inseparable.
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echo-bleu · 6 months
Note
Disability pride request? Two characters of your choice hanging out, maybe one using two forearm crutches and one using two canes. They can be friends or partners - I just generally love seeing disabled characters interactng with one another!
How about three disabled characters?
Once upon a time @camille-lachenille sent me a prompt about Míriel having Ehler-Danlos Syndrome. I had already sketched a disabled Celegorm with EDS in mind and, thinking about how it's genetic, had an epiphany about Celebrimbor (and the meaning of his name) and I drew him as well. So I wrote a fic about all three of them dealing with chronic pain, but I still hadn't drawn Míriel. That oversight is now fixed!
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They have more in common than just chronic illness xD.
This is still titled "The EDS gang" in my files, I'm going to stick to it. Set sometime in Fourth Age Valinor, when most things are good again...
Disabled Tolkien characters series
(Feel free to send me more disability prompts! I love drawing them.)
More ramblings about disability aids that devolved into bullet-point headcanons under the cut. ID and transcription at the end, but they're also in alt text.
[CW: this is all fairly light but discussion of death and trauma and you know, everything that comes with these three.]
I do not know how to make comics. I'm sure that's very obvious but, you know, learning new things and all that. One thing I learned was that my usual style of rendering does not work with it as well so I rendered them entirely twice.
It was meant to be day 21 and 22 of my October challenge, because surely I can draw and colour a full page in a day (spoilers: no). In the end it was a combined 15 hours of work over 3 and a half days because I made it as complicated as I possibly could 😭 Still, I had fun and learned a lot.
Note: Ehlers-Danlos syndrome is a connective tissue disorder, affecting basically how your cells are glued together. There are a lot of different symptoms (and different types of EDS) but a frequent one is joint pain and hypermobility, and it's at least partly inherited.
Míriel:
Red was Míriel's colour first. She's not into gaudy things and rarely wears vivid colours, but almost always something red. She barely wears any jewellery since reembodiment, mostly for sensory reason (She is very autistic. That's something she gave Fëanor, Curufin, Caranthir, Ambarussa and Celebrimbor, at least.)
She died of post-partum (and general) depression and energy depletion from childbirth or something, but the chronic illness that was taking all of her energy and keeping her from her craft certainly didn't help.
Also pregnancy was horribly rough on her, partly because EDS can be affected by hormonal changes.
She's actually been better since reembodiment, because she has better accommodations (Finwë did his best but he was very lost) and also a Vala on hand who makes her very good painkilling tea.
She wears knitted compression gloves that she designed to help with hand pains.
Her wheelchair is of Noldor make, but I'm sure Celebrimbor will have suggestions for improving it.
The tapestry that she is weaving is actually this painting of Finrod that I did a while ago. I figure that she's representing calmer, nicer things now that she doesn't have to weave her grandchildren's downfall and deaths.
Celegorm:
He was in a relationship with Oromë before the Exile. After his reembodiment, it took them a while by they talked it out and forgave each other. Oromë doesn't quite get elves, but he's really supportive.
He has a pair of wolf-head canes carved by Nerdanel. He alternatively uses both, just one and sometimes none depending on activity/pain level.
He wears bandages as compression garments because this is a world without elastane. His leggings have reinforced knees for support.
He's always heard about Míriel having the same thing as he does from Finwë, and he knew that when he started showing symptoms, Fëanor was terrified that he'd fade too. So for a long time, Míriel's story was kind of hanging above his head.
That's why it takes him a while to go seek her out after he's reembodied. Celebrimbor understands why it's important to him and he pushed him to it a little bit, so Celegorm dragged him along.
They're going to get along great. Míriel is both the quintessential grandmother and also she has a twisted sense of humour that Celegorm will just love.
Celebrimbor:
Celegorm was always his favourite uncle, and they became very close when Celebrimbor started having symptoms in the early years in Exile, and Celegorm stayed with Curufin in Himlad for him.
It took Celebrimbor a while to forgive him after Returning (not as long as Curufin but still) but they've gone back to being really close.
He was really unlucky with reembodiment: while he wasn't reborn with the physical aspect of his torture, the memory of pain and the trauma made his chronic pain a lot worse than it was before, and he can no longer walk unaided.
He designed the silver ring and wrist splints back in Eregion with Narvi's help, and ended up literally living up to his name (which means "silver fist/grasping hand").
Paradoxically these were a great motivation for him to work through his trauma and go back to the forge, because he couldn't find a silversmith in Valinor who could make good enough ones for him, even with all of his sketches and specifications.
A lot of his work since reembodiment has been designing and making disability aids for people.
He uses platform crutches to spare his hands as much as possible. He invented and designed them, of course, as well as the KAFO brace that he wears here. He's also a part-time wheelchair user.
He is still wearing dwarven beads in his hair. He obviously didn't bring anything back from Middle-Earth but he asked Gimli to make them for him in remembrance of Narvi. His tunic is also dwarven-inspired.
He is pretty chill about Sauron here. I don't know if there was a redemption (I have feelings about @chthonion's The Harrowing and @mynameisjessejk's Otter Mayhem) or if he's just been through enough elf-therapy to be able to joke about it. Celegorm's sense of humour is just Like That.
Celegorm and Celebrimbor are about to try Vairë's special painkilling tea for the first time 👀
Between all of them they should really open a disability aids shop or something. They just might! Míriel doesn't really ever leave Vairë's house but I think Celegorm and Celebrimbor will keep visiting her a lot, and eventually all of the grandkids will as well.
Image description and transcriptions:
Two digital comic book pages.
Image 1: The first case takes the whole width, showing two pairs of feet with each two canes/crutches on a tiled floor, with a speech bubble saying "Do you think she'll want to see us?"
The second line has two cases in 2/3 and 1/3 format. The first shows two hands in red fingerless gloves working on a tapestry on a loom. The second shows part of a light-skinned face in profile, with curly white hair. Three speech bubbles say "My love?" "Um?" "There are people here asking for you."
The bottom part has one case off-center showing the same hand undoing the brake of a wheelchair, with a speech bubble saying "Your grandson and your great-grandson." above and one saying "I'll be right here." below. Then a full-length off-case portrait of Miríel, a light-skinned elf with shoulder-length curly white sitting in a wheelchair and pushing herself. She's wearing a pale pink embroidered dress with red accents, red fingerless gloves and elbow pad and brown boots and smiling.
Image 2: A single large case shows two elves standing in a room with a tiled floor, with a large door and two tables behind them. There are thread spools on one table and a tea set on the other. One elf, Celebrimbor, is brown-skinned and slightly chubby, with long black hair in a braided bun, wearing a red tunic and dark green pants. He is leaning on two decorated platform combo crutches made of wood and metal, with a KAFO brace on his leg. He wears finger and hand silver splints. The other elf, Celegorm, is pale and has long white hair in a high ponytail with small braids, he has tattoos on his neck and arms and he wears bandages on his shoulders, elbows and wrist. He wears a green tunic, leggings and wrap-around gaiters. He is leaning on a cane and holding up another cane, pointing at the first elf. Both canes have handles carved in the shape of wolf heads.
The speech bubbles are arranged around and below them, giving this dialogue, with the speakers distinguished by the shape of the bubble (the parts in parentheses are smaller text in the bubbles):
Celegorm: "My lady, my name is Tyelkormo, and this is my nephew Tyelpë." Miríel: "I know who you are, my wonderful children. Come sit." Celebrimbor: "That would be nice, thank you." Miríel: "Vairë, my love, would you make us some tea?" Celebrimbor: "My lady!" Celegorm: "A Vala who can make tea! (I could never get Oromë to do it.)" Miríel: "It was a long domestication process." Vairë (off screen): "Hey!" Celebrimbor: "Instant hot water! That’s nice. (I wonder if I could replicate that.)" Miríel: "She makes wonderful hot water bottles." Celegorm: "Oromë just uses his hands as hot pads." Celebrimbor: "Ew, I didn’t need to know that." Celegorm: "What? Just because your Maia burns everything he touches–" Celebrimbor: "Shut up." Miríel: "You must both tell me everything about yourself. And your partners!"
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scenteddelusion5 · 2 months
Text
"Two households, both unalike in dignity, In our unsightly hell, where we lay our scene," PART 2
Vox x gn reader (Alastor's child)
Note: I learned how to do ť̷̛̠̝͐̀͗̈̎̐h̵̢͎̥͙̳͚͉̮̊̿̋͑̃͜͝ị̵͖͉̈́͂̾̽s̷̮͖͕̞͉̲̝̿̈́͗̿̏́̚͜͠
Also this is definitly going to be a 4 or 5 parter.
Word count: 3385
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
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Y/n was sitting on their bed, looking at the surprisingly tin device in their hand. These smart phones looked so different compared to the phones in their time. Turning the thing on was a bit of a struggle, but thanks to Vox choosing the settings were easy and his phone number was already saved.
Hello Vox, this is Y/n. I hope you get this message.
The man on the receiving end hadn't read it yet, which they learned they could see bases on colour of the checkmarks, so instead they started exploring the unfamiliar tech a bit, mainly the internet. It wasn't invented yet when they were alive but with the amount of books they read, they were familiar with how it worked.
Y/n was looking up pictures of the TV Demon when a knock came from their door. "Little fawn, we need to talk." They swiftly hid the smartphone under their pillow.
Y/n sighed, "come in."
Alastor walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. "Fawn, I would first like to apologize for the way that I acted yesterday, it was unbecoming, however, I need you to understand that you can't trust Vox." His shadow grabbed one of their romance books and brought it to him. "He only wants to get close to you, to get to me and I don't want you to get hurt. Not only does he already have such a relation with his colleague Valentino but me and him have been in a long feud. You see..." Their father proceeded the tell them the same story Vox had.
"So that's why, I'm sorry this wasn't the novel worthy romance you hoped it was, but if you wished to meet new people, I would gladly take you out of the house sometime."
"Thanks for telling me dad." They put their head on his shoulder. "I forgive you... So where would we be going?"
"Hmm, that's a surprise. Put on something decent and come down for breakfast." Alastor stood up and left the room.
As soon as the door closed, Y/n reached for the phone. A message popped up from the screen.
God, I got to teach you how to text Anyway I was thinking There's this new restaurant opening up, want to go?
I see, Y/n thought, texting is very casual.
I would love too but my father is taking me out today to make up for yesterday. We could go tomorrow
Sure I'll see you at the edge of the forest
Y/n was casually dressed, their phone hidden in their jacket. Alastor and them were walking down a familiar street. "I've already been to Cannibal Town, you know that."
"Yes, yes, I know, little fawn. That isn't the surprise." Alastor waved them off.
The two made their way to Rosie's Emporium. Rosie was standing outside with a younger looking man standing next to her. He wore a brown waistcoat, matching pants and a bowtie. His eyes were pitch black like Rosie's.
"Alastor! You really kept us waiting!" Rosie laughed. "And here I thought you were a gentleman."
"Yes, yes, we took a bit longer. Anyway speaking of gentleman, Y/n, meet Paris." Alastor pushed the man in front of them. "He's a young, stand-up, cannibal demon. I thought that you surely didn't want to explore the rest of hell with your old man, so I asked Paris here to go instead."
"It's an honour to meet you." Paris kissed Y/n on the hand. "I would love to show you around the rest of hell."
"Uhm... I..." Y/n looked between him and their father. "Sure, let's go," they sighed.
Alastor and Rosie watched the two leave. "Once they've spend their day with him, Y/n'll forget all about Vox. Now come inside. I've got a new shipment of livers." Rosie invited her old friend inside.
Vox was still removing the thorns and branches from his favourite suit when Velvette entered his room.
"Wait, so you did go after them?!" She pulled one of the branches out of his hat. "You're sooo whipped. Did you find some dirt on Alastor?"
"No, I didn't." Vox stood up and straightened his suit. "But I do need to prepare for tomorrow."
"No-" Velvette jumped onto him and held his screen between her hands. "- you have a DATE!!! OMG, you two should totally get married, could you imagine the Radio Demon's face. Hahaha." She pulled up her phone and started typing something in google. "So where are you taking them? What are you wearing?"
"We're going to that new restaurant and I'm wearing my usual suit." He pulled away from the other Vee.
"You're not wearing your work clothes. Follow me, we're going shopping."
"So yeah that was the first time I had ever eaten a human heart, it was quite experience, hahaha." Paris was rambling on and on. "Rosie had introduced me to your father, he seemed have approved of me. I, mean, that's crazy, he is THE Radio Demon and all... Oh, have I already told you about my cooking? I-"
The whole time this demon had been talking about himself, oh and the Radio Demon of course. Paris seemed to idolize him, which only put Y/n off more. At least they got to see the rest of hell. The two were walking down the road, a unfamiliar city standing in the distance.
"We should go the other direction." Paris was about to walk the other way.
"Why?
"Oh that's like, uhm, the three Vees territory. It's not a place to take a fair maiden to."
"Dad told you to show me around hell and I want to go there." They continued to walk to the city and it's flashy lights. "Are you coming or am I going alone?"
The two were heading towards the shopping centre. The whole way Paris was trying to convince them to go back. But Y/n was stubborn.
"This really isn't a place for civilized people as you can see, I can show you around another circle in hell." As Paris was talking, they walked up to a window.
The shop window showed a total of ten TV's. Vox 2 Night was on. He looked so handsome in his suit talking about VoxTech's newest invention. They were immediately pulled away from their conversation with the cannibal and lovingly stared at the demon on the broadcast.
"Hey, Y/n." That wasn't Paris' voice.
"Velvette, why are we going to the mall when you can just conjure an outfit for me?" Vox asked.
Velvette pulled up her Sinstagram and showed it to Vox. "Because it's part of the EXPERIANCE, just look. Shopping pics are all over everyone's for-you-page and if we say we're preparing you for a date, we'll totally go viral."
"That's no, we're not telling anyone I'm going on a date." Vox grabbed her phone out of her hands. "Who knows how Val will do when he finds out. No, nope."
"But-"
"No!" Vox's screen zoomed in on his left eye, black circles spiralled in it. As he was using his hypnotising powers, he caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the distance.
"Fine," Velvette sighed, "but at lea-"
But Vox wasn't paying attention to his colleague again. He was walking to the person standing in front of one of his techshops. They were intently watching his night show. Their eyes sparkled.
"Hey, Y/n," he greeted them.
"Vox! What are you doing here?" Y/n's face immediately brightened seeing the TV Demon.
"Hello, I'm Paris." The demon stepped in between the two lovebirds. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Yes, you can fuck off." Vox pushed past him.
Y/n, me and Vox were just about to go shopping. Do you want to come with?" Velvette asked.
"I would love to." They pushed a hairlock behind their ear.
"Another time, I was showing Y/n around and we were just on our way to doomsday district." Paris butted in again. "Besides, aren't you and the Radio Demon rivals? It's highly inappropriate for someone who has not been approved by their father to be around them."
"And I don't think a wannabe, cannibal who doesn't know his place is worthy of being seen with them." Vox retorted. "So Y/n, what do you think?"
"I would love to go shopping with you!" They turned to the other cannibal. "I'm going to hang out with them, you can either come with or leave us alone."
"But-" Before Paris could make another objection, Y/n dragged the overlord by the arm to the shopping centre.
"So what's up with hollow eyes over there?" Velvette asked as Vox and Paris were fighting about a suit or something.
"Oh yeah," Y/n's nervous laugh filled the room, "dad wanted him to come with me while going out, I've never been here before. I didn't really get a choice in the matter."
"Hmm, don't worry. I got ya!!" Velvette walked up to the bickering boys. "Hey, Paris! I saw this polo that would suit you. Come on." She winked at her colleague while pulling him away.
"I never realised Velvette's taste is stuck-up bitchass," Vox murmured.
Y/n linked their arm around the TV's. "It isn't, that's why we should make a run for it now before she gets sick of him."
The mall was giant, every corner held a store a different store. The two were looking around a souvenir store.
"How about this?" Y/n asked as they held up a keychain of a hung rat.
"That's disgusting, wh- HEY HEY!!" Vox screamed as they held the dead animal close to his face. "Stop it!"
"Fine..." Y/n took a step back. "Hey, how do your hypnosis powers work? I know you use them for your shows, but I didn't sense anything at all."
"Indirect hypnosis isn't as strong as direct. My shows only work on lowly denizens, so you have nothing to worry about in that regard." Vox looked at the snow globes decorated with death animals.
"And direct."
Vox looked away from them. "I could make you do anything I wanted but I'm not going to do that. I like you just the way you are."
His words shot straight through their heart. "Stop saying corny stuff like that." A red blush decorated their face.
"But I love your reactions, sweetie."
"Stop."
"Sweetheart."
"Vox..."
"My love~"
"VOX!" Their face was brighter than Alastor's hair. "S̴̹͎͗̈́͂̏͛̈̿͝͝T̸̡̛̼̥͓͖͂͛́̒̈́̄̀͛̏̔͒̎̌̕͝͝O̵̧̖̖͍͕͔͈͂̈́͑̅P̸̢̥̝̦͎̂̌̽ Ȉ̴̟̗̗̗̖̟̞͍̙͊͑̐̋̂̀̆̋T̵̺͉͔̮̺̩̔͌̽͊̔̍̆̿́̔̇̇͘." Their ears fell back, eyes glowed and their teeth got sharper.
Vox was stunned by this reaction, they were terrifying yes, but they were also kind of cute? Pixel hearts floated across his screen. "Wow, you're so hot."
"I, I- uhm, you're handsome too." They twirled a hairlock around their finger.
...
...
"So." Vox broke the awkward silence. "How is that phone suiting you?"
"Oh." They pulled the little device out of their pocket. "Yeah, I'm still figuring out what the apps are all about but I think I understand the chatting and goulgle." They opened their phone and showed it to him
"You still have the standard VoxTech background?" Vox asked.
"You can change it?"
"Yes." Vox grabbed their phone and posed for a selfie. Y/n, not completely understanding what's going on, copied him. "Wait," the overlord said as he was focused on their phone, "here."
He showed them their new background; a picture of the both of them smiling, Y/n looking straight into the camera and Vox glancing lovingly to them, a edited in, glowing heart surrounding the both of them.
"That's so cute!" They stared at the picture now decorating the background of their little picture device.
"I also downloaded 666+ for you along with a free account. you can watch any 666 show on there."
"Even your shows?" Their eyes sparkled.
"Of course." Vox was definitely going to download that image of them to his hard drive once he got home. "Anyway, let's leave. I don't think we're going to buy something here."
"Velvette? Where did Y/n go?" Paris asked.
"I don't know," she answered, "oh look at this shirt." She held up a striped polo.
"I promised their dad I would look after them. Oh, if the Radio Demon finds out I lost them, he's going to hate me!" The cannibal started to panic. "No, I should go to him, if I tell him in time maybe he won't kill me."
"Relax." She rolled her eyes. "Let's go find them, they couldn't have gone far. Besides what would the Radio Demon say if you left them lost and alone now?"
"Right, yeah right." Paris started searching throughout the entire shopping mall.
Vox! I can't keep distracting this guy He's dead set on finding them
We'll come Meet you at the restrooms on the Westside
"Hey! Paris, I know where they are!" She yelled at the still freaked out man.
"Right, lead the way!"
When they arrived, Vox and Y/n were already there.
Paris rushed up to them. "Y/n are you alright? You're not hurt are you? What would your father say if he knew you ran off?"
"I don't care what he would say. I'm my own person." They retorted and then turned to Velvette. "Are you hungry too? Me and Vox wanted to go get some food."
"Sure, I could use a snack."
Paris' face brightened. "I know this great restaurant close by that I just know you would love." He tried to hide his smirk when they agreed to go there.
The restaurant looked nice enough but there didn't seem many people inside. But that also meant they got a table of four immediately. The inside was decorated with abstract paintings and decorative, animal skeletons.
"I've never been in this place. It's rather nice." Vox studied a squirl skull. He couldn't understand why Paris was looking so smug. The waiter passed around the menu and left again. Even the staff was polite, what was going on? But when he opened the menu, it clicked...
It was a cannibal restaurant.
Vox was about to protest when Y/n spoke up. "Oehhh, I didn't think they had places like this outside of Cannibal Town. They even have my favourite!"
He looked over the menu again, looking for anything he could possibly stomach. There weren't any vegan options... shit. This was going to be a loooong lunch.
Velvette shot a concerned look at Vox, when the waiter came back. "Have you made a decision?"
"Yes, I'll have the legbeef, medium rare, and the lady will have the smoked heart." Paris ordered for the two of them.
"Uhm-" Vox glitched, hastily trying to make a decision. I'll have the smoked heart too." It was their favourite dish, he should've at least tried it once.
Velvette was still in utter shock that her colleague was going along with this. "I'll have the uhm... Liver bolognaise." She quickly chose the least horrible sounding dish, at least there would be a shit ton of cheese and sauce on it. The girl still couldn’t believe she was doing this and for Vox of all people!!!
The dinner went fairly well all things considered. Velvette barely touched her dish, while Vox did take a full bite and it didn't taste as bad as he'd expected, actually it tasted great! But knowing he was eating an actual demon spoiled the dish for him. Still, he finished it.
After lunch the group split up again, Paris and Y/n going back to Cannibal Town while Vox and Velvette went back to the V-tower.
Alastor had brought some of his daughters romance books to Rosie, one of them laying open on the table. He wanted to at least try to understand what got Y/n so hung up about Vox and romance.
"So, they basically get threatened and stalked by this vampire and they fall in love with him? I can't believe Y/n has been reading this nonsense." Alastor rolled his eyes and reached out for the next novel. "And this one, to get over her heartbreak, a young demoness writes heartfelt letters, confessing her love for the sinners, never intending to send them. However, when she opens her box one morning she finds all her letters gone, send out. How will she deal with the 5 denizens she accidentally confessed to? Is this supposed to be interesting, I don't get it."
"Come on, Alastor. You want to bond more with her, right? This is part of it." Rosie picked up one of the books to and reads the back. "This one doesn't seem too bad, it's about the love between two demons who look back on their living years as young champs."
"Ugh," the Radio Demon complained. "Luckily I don't need to worry about them and Vox anymore. I must say that Paris boy is quite the charming man, a perfect addition to our home, tell me how did you find him?"
"Oh, Paris is a BIG fan of yours and came to Cannibal Town in the hopes to meet you. For the last few months he has been admired by ALL the ladies in town. Dapper, charming, smart, looks, he got it all as they say, " Rosie laughed, "so when I heard your little conundrum I just knew he was going to be perfect for them."
"Yes, he would make quite the son-in-law but we'll have to see how the date went first." Alastor almost spit out his coffee when he read the backside of the next book; an older Cannibal and younger tech demon falling in love despite being from rivalling families. Was this were Y/n got the idea of falling in love with vox? "Seems like I'll have to have a talk with y/n about fiction and reality."
When Velvette and Vox got back, the last Vee was waiting on them. "Did you two go out without me? You're hurting my feelings."
"Oh, fuck off Val, we just went out for a new suit." She held up her middle finger as she left for her department.
"Oh really?" Val asked, "you went out for a new suit? And you weren't with that whore?" He held up his phone showing Sinstagram. A blurry picture of Vox and Y/n could be seen.
"Yes, I was buying a new suit Valentino, we just ran into them is all." Vox tried to keep back his blush. "Besides, what do you care?"
His colleague's answer infuriated him. "What do I care? Since you met that useless whore, you've kept me dry."
"Not everything is about sex and I highly doubt you're dry, you've got enough playthings." Vox walked towards the elevator. "You don't need me, get over it."
The elevator doors closed again, leaving Valentino all alone. "That fucking doe-eyed BITCH!! I'm going to kill them! Kill their whole fucking family!!!" He grabbed a glass from his assistant and threw it against de wall. "But I'm going to start with them..."
"It's unfortunate our date was interrupted by those two, but no matter we could always meet again," Paris spoke as the two of them were on their way back to Cannibal Town. "I am free this wee-"
"Wait!" They yelled. "This was supposed to be a date?"
"Well, yes."
"No, not happening! Listen up, I am in no way shape or form, interested in you that way!"
"Hmm, I see, what a shame." Paris put on a seemingly fake frown. "You know I was going to keep quiet about Vox and you but it seems like I'm more devoted to the Radio Demon. I wonder how he is going to react... What he'll do to that bastard... Oh well."
"What? I... Please don't tell dad!" Y/n begged.
"Hmm, how about this, I keep quiet about your little rendezvous, your affair, and you become my girlfriend."
"I... Uhmm..."
"How about this I'll give you two days to think about it." The cannibal put on an atrocious smile. "Choose wisely, or you might never see Vox ever again."
"There is my favourite demon." Alastor patted their head. "Did you have a good time, little fawn?"
"Yes, I did. It was great." Y/n smiled widely, doing their absolute best to hide their nervousness.
"That's amazing dear." Their father turned to Paris. "Thank you, I hope you will show them around some more another time."
"I would love to sir!"
Part 3
I'm an unoriginal ass. I know, I know, <3
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JK here's part 3
Masterlist/request guidelines
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Atsumu Miya said it!
(CW: Swearing)
The day's bullshit weighed heavy on your weary shoulders as you forced yourself to go buy groceries before running home to tuck yourself in for the night.
You loved your job, really you did, but dear fuckery did it occasionally smack you in the face with a day from hell, you could barely keep track of the essentials you needed while cursing yourself for not shopping in advance.
Your phone exploding with texts every two minutes does not help.
After six different texts came in, you relented, rubbing at your eyes as you pulled the damn thing out of you pocket.
10 new messages from:
Miya: The Blonde One.
You groaned, and didn't care about the funny looks you got from the cashier as you set your things down on the rolling carpet, hitting the call button as you couldn't be bothered to text him back.
He answered in seconds.
"Finally! I've been textin' ya forever!"
Rolling your eyes, you made sure the happy leap of your traitorous heart didn't show in your voice. 'I only just got off work, shithead.'
"That was a whole twenty minutes ago! Thought ye'd died'r somethin' asshole!'
You and Atsumu had met two years ago, and had somehow ended up with the kind of friendship where swear words have become pet names. He'd clicked into your life like he'd always been there, two years felt like ten.
Now if you're hopeless heart would stop summersaulting every time you thought of him, like would be great.
You held the phone to your shoulder as the cashier scanned your items so you could load them up. 'You can hold off on crying your eyes out over me, I'm fine. Just had to pick some stuff up on the way home.'
"Too late, already started grieving." You can just imagine him throwing his hand over his heart with "tears" in his eyes. "So when ya gettin' home?"
'I dunno, ten minutes?'
"Sounds like ya know."
'Piss off I'm tired.'
"Yeah yeah, gotta go, later!"
You frowned at the screen as the call cut off suddenly. That was by far the shortest phone call you'd ever had with the national setter. Atsumu could talk the ears off an elephant.
The cashier told you your told, utterly indifferent to your divided attention even as you smiled sheepishly in apology for not greeting her verbally.
As you hauled your things back to the car, you considered calling him back, instead sitting in your car and scrolling through ten lines of utter nonsense texts to try and get your attention. Emoji's, random factoids, just your name repeated several times.
Yup, Atsumu was bored.
Smiling to yourself, you started the car, only to be greeted by the playlist he made you. 90% of it is songs you like, but the rest is purely there to annoy you. Meaning at any one time there's a chance you'll start your engine to Baby Shark.
This time it was a good one, leaving you smiling as you drove yourself home.
Quietly tired, you trudged up to your front door, eyes down as you slid your keys into the door, throwing your keys on the table in the hall on your way in, sliding off your shoes.
You padded to the kitchen, set down your shopping, considered crawling straight into bed as you sluggishly trudged through the living room.
All fatigue flew out of you as you pushed open the bedroom door, and found yourself yelping in surprise at the sight of an Olympic setter on your fucking bed, spread out with a bowl of grapes beside him like the queen of Sheba.
'Holy fuck Atsumu!'
Smug menace didn't miss a beat. 'You could knock, ya know?'
'Bitch, it's my house!' You wailed, clutching your now racing heart as you slowly came to realise- 'Wait, you're not supposed to be here!'
'Yeah yeah it's your house I heard ya.' Atsumu drawled, casually tossing another grape into his mouth. 'Have some grapes, s'good.'
'Atsumu, you are supposed to be in a different country right now!'
He'd told you himself about the away game in this week, a very long flight away.
The setter shrugged, but his cheeks were starting to gain some colour, making you immediately suspicious. 'I came back early. Used your spare key to get in so don't go lookin' for any broken locks or anythin'.'
'Did something happen?' You wondered as he sat up on the edge of your bed and you moved to sit beside him, curious.
'Nah, just missed ya is all.'
You arched a brow at that. You'd like to think that you know exactly when Atsumu's bullshitting, you've developed a sixth sense for it.
That, did not sound like bullshit. His eyes had darted away from you as he said it, ears turning pink among the thick blonde tresses of his hair.
'Uh huh...' You murmured, looking for words.
'Uh huh? That's all ya gotta say?' He wailed, affronted.
'No! You just put me on the spot!'
'Well figure it out, Shakespeare! I'm pourin' mah heart out here!'
'You call saying you missed me pouring your heart out?'
'If it ain't ya outta show me how it's done!' He huffed, folding his arms across that broad chest, so damn sure you wouldn't call his bluff.
Little did he know, you were sleep deprived, your patience at its end, and your budget for giving a fuck well and truly depleted.
'I hate seeing you leave. Every time you go it feels like the world's turned grey.'
Atsumu did a double take, head snapping back to face you so fast you thought he'd get whiplash.
But you aren't done.
'No one's ever made my name sound as good as you do when you say it, even when you're using it to annoy the shit outta me. You could tell me you'd made the worst mistake ever and I'd still think you were perfect. That Shakespeare enough for you?'
Atsumu's mouth was agape, eyes wide, blinking helplessly at you. That doe-eyed look, it was as if you'd hung the stars in the sky as you said every word while never once tearing your gaze from his.
You smiled gently, taking your finger to his chin to close his mouth for him. 'I'm taking a shower. You figure out your head, Miya.'
'Oh no you don't!'
Before you could so much as lift yourself from the bed, Atsumu was tackling you back onto your own sheets, his athlete's frame engulfing you as he pinned you desperately searching out your eyes.
'Tell me you mean all that.' He pleaded, eyes searching yours for even the slightest hint that you were joking. 'Tell me...tell me you love me.'
You peered up at him, your heart now at a gallop as if it could run and crash through your ribs, reaching desperately for him. Your voice was soft, as if you'd shatter if you spoke your feelings too loudly. No going back now.
'I love you.'
All at once, Atsumu's face lit up with a grin to put the world to shame, but you barely got to enjoy basking in his joy as he was suddenly kissing you, kissing you like it was the first and last time he'd ever get the chance.
He stole the air from your lungs as you chased the softness of him again and again, burying your fingers in the bleached blonde waves, keeping him hopelessly close.
He sighed happily when you finally allowed him breath, but he didn't go far, gently bumping his nose against yours. 'You know this means I win, right?'
'Is that so?'
'Obviously. I made you say it first.'
'Asshole.'
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backslashdelta · 7 months
Text
How To Gif: Glass Shatter Effect
By popular demand (ie, 7 people who voted in this poll), here is a tutorial on how to do the glass shatter effect I used to create the first gif in this set.
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I use Photoshop CC 2015 (yes I know it's old) for my gifmaking, but you should be able to apply everything to newer versions of Photoshop. For this tutorial I'll be assuming you know the gifmaking basics, but if not, I would recommend this tutorial, which is the process I use to make gifs. Note that this particular process involves saving all of the frames, importing those frames into Photoshop, and then using an action to convert to a smart object.
Keep reading below the cut to learn how to do this effect!
Before I could start making this gif, I needed three things; the two scenes that I wanted to use, and a video of the glass shattering effect. I already knew the scenes I wanted, so then I took to YouTube to find a video which I can't for the life of me find again, but it looked like this:
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Something like this is what you want. Ideally the green part would be entirely white, but as long as there are two clearly different colours you can usually work with it.
This looks a lot slower than the gif that I made, but that's not because of the frame rate - which is exactly the same above as in the final gif - it's just because there are extra frames in this slower one that I cut out. In the video I used, the glass shattering happened very slowly. I didn't want that, so I ended up skipping several frames when I loaded the frames into Photoshop before using my gifmaking action. I just did this by manually selecting one frame, skipping the next several before selecting another frame, and repeating this until I had selected 60 frames.
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After using my gif action, I had a smart object of the glass shatter effect that looked like this:
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That's a much better speed! It still wasn't quite where I needed it to be though. I needed this in black and white, so I slapped a hue/saturation adjustment on the smart object and set the saturation all the way down to -100.
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Okay great, I could start putting the gif together now.
First, I made a copy of the glass shatter smart object, because I'll need that later. Then, I pulled in frames from the scene that I wanted to appear in the hole after the glass shatters, and I used those to create a new smart object with my gif action (we'll call it Scene-bg). I pulled Scene-bg into the same window as the glass shatter objects. Then I created a new smart object by combining one of the glass shatter objects with Scene-bg, which I did by selecting both layers right clicking, and selecting "Convert to Smart Object".
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I renamed this smart object to Shatter-fg. I opened it by clicking on the little icon next to the layer name in the layers window here:
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The most important thing here is that the shatter effect object should be the top layer, and I set the mode to "lighten". This will make sure that the lightest colour of either this layer and the layer behind it is displayed; that means that anywhere that's white in our shatter animation will still show up, but anywhere that's black we'll see what's in the layer(s) behind it.
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Then I threw some adjustment layers between them to get the colouring I wanted. I used a curves layer, a hue/saturation layer, and I also added text with an outer glow layer effect. Here's what the layer order looked like and the settings I used for each layer:
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After this process, Shatter-fg looked like this:
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Okay nice, this is starting to look like something! I saved this and went back to the main file with the other glass shatter object.
I needed to invert that other glass shatter object. There's a weird quirk with the version of Photoshop that I use where it doesn't like it when I apply specifically an invert adjustment to a smart object (it appears correctly when editing, but not on export) so I did this by creating a new smart object which included a separate invert layer, but if you have a newer version of Photoshop you can probably just apply the invert adjustment directly. Just note that you'll need to do one of these options; it won't work if you add a separate adjustment layer in the main file, it needs to be applied specifically to the smart object (which we'll now be calling Shatter-bg). It looked like this after I inverted it:
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Once that's done, I made sure Shatter-fg was the layer directly above Shatter-bg, and set the mode of Shatter-fg to "darken" and Shatter-bg to "lighten". Since Shatter-fg is set to darken, it will be visible only when it is darker than the layer behind it. By setting Shatter-bg to lighten, I've guaranteed that the layer behind it will always be lighter (ie, white) in the places we want Shatter-fg to be visible, and will be black otherwise. Once I update those settings, this is what the gif looked like:
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This is all there is to the glass shatter effect itself. Next I pulled in frames from the second scene to fill in the black areas. This layer needed to go below both glass shatter layers, so that it only shows through where the black. Then I added adjustment layers and some text. I used curves, hue/saturation, and vibrance adjustment layers, and I also added the "archer" text below the glass shatter layers so that it would be hidden to reveal the "prey" text. The other text I added above all of the layers, since I wanted this to be visible all the time. Here is the layer order and all of the settings I used for each of the layers:
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I also grouped Shatter-bg and Shatter-fg and shifted them on the timeline so there would be some time to see the background gif before the shatter effect starts.
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And that's all! Then it''s just a matter of exporting the finished product:
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This is the first gifmaking tutorial I've ever made, so I hope I was able to be reasonably coherent and helpful! I'd love to hear if you make anything by following these steps, or even if you just feel like you've learned something reading through this. And if you have any outstanding questions, feel free to reply or send me an ask and I'd be happy to answer!
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lexisecretaccx · 2 months
Text
Dirty Secret Pt. 4 - Matt Sturniolo
(Fem reader x Matt Sturniolo, angst😞,this part is.. something else like wow.) also apologies bc this is the last part and I have ended it on a cliffhanger bc I’m not interested in this storyline anymore 😭🙏
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I know we’ve know eachother for what? At least 5 hours, but if he’s into me as much as he acts like he is.. why would he lie? Does he have a girlfriend? A wife? Kids? Is he a criminal? The options are endless. I think I’ll go for the most unreal one, he’s a fugitive, because I don’t want him to have a girlfriend.
I open my apartment door before throwing my bag on my couch and grabbing my phone off of the side table, and remembering that he had texted me.
I smile when I see the “unknown number” notification.
The text read “Your lips are so kissable.” I feel my face blush slightly before saving his contact ‘Matt❤️’ and replying with “you’re a flirt😂” cringey as fuck. I know don’t tell me about it. I go to my room and get into my pyjamas, take off my makeup, all that stuff and hopping into bed.
I check my phone and messages. Read 01:53am, my heart drops, that was 10 minutes ago why didn’t he reply? I thought he was ‘cleaning up’ doesn’t he have time to reply? I am a very, very untrusting person and I want to know if he’s just cleaning up or if he doesn’t like me or what. So I thought up a plan to go to his house and find out.
I get into my car and put my hood up, I changed into a black hoodie to try and stay incognito. I pull up outside of his house but around the corner so he doesn’t sus me out. The driveway gate is open but his house is heavily surrounded by security cameras, it is a big house though.
I don’t know why my first thought was breaking in, I could just go to the front door and knock but why do I feel so scared, what am I gonna say? I walk up the driveway and make my way to the door, before I could knock I could hear muffled yelling coming from the other side. It sounded like Matt.
“What do you mean you don’t know?!” He sounded angrier than I could ever imagine him sounding. An unfamiliar voice replies “I don’t know her last name dude.” The other man had a slightly scared tone in his voice. “I told you to find stuff out and what did you do? YOU SAT ON YOUR ASS FOR A WHOLE HOUR DOING FUCKING NOTHING.” Matt yelled so loud it caused me to jump out of my skin.
“Hey, don’t freak out on him Matt.” There was another person, it sounded slightly like Matt but different at the same time, probably his brother. “If you don’t tell me something good news I’m gonna fucking..” I knock on the door to distract them. “Get the door Chris.” I barely hear him as he’s stopped shouting.
I hear many locks unclick before the door opens and his brother opens the door, he looks exactly like Matt but also slightly different. “Y/n?” I hear Matt say from behind Chris. “What the fuck are you doing here.” His voice was rough and I peered past Chris to get a look at him, his eyebrows were raised and he looked, almost worried, but his eyebrows knitted together as his expression quickly switched to that of annoyance.
“I, uh, I wanted to uh.” I couldn’t get my words out, I felt scared and intimidated by how he was yelling. “I’m gonna go, come on.” Chris walked over to the other guy and dragged him down the hallway. Matt walked closer to me and I felt myself step back automatically.
“What.” He hissed, his body language has changed drastically since he had that text. “What were you yelling about?” I whispered, his eyes widened and the colour drained from his face. “What did you hear?” He studied my face before adding on, “you’re scared, why are you scared?” He spoke more rapidly.
“Who was that guy and who were you asking him to find stuff about?” I hesitated and kept my composure to stop myself from panicking. His eyes flashed with rage before he quickly switched to look like he was concerned. “I, uh. You’re so pretty you know.” He put both his hands on my shoulders before switching our positions so he was stood in front of the door.
“Don’t change the subject Matt, please.” I pleaded just wanting to know what the fuck was going on. “Please y/n don’t don’t do this.” He lent closer to me. I turn around quickly and look around before I see an open laptop and a piece of paper on top of a file. I start to walk over to it before Matt grabs my arm gripping tightly.
“Where are you going.” He slightly laughs to play off his aggression. “Get off me Matt you’re hurting me.” I look up at him and he lets go. I speed towards the laptop and he quickly notices what I was heading for and he try to grab at me as i reach the table.
I move the paper off the file and the name on the file reads ‘y/n’ and my jaw drops before I look over to the laptop which has a photograph of me in Matts car, a photo of me and him leaving the house which was taken from the security camera I suspect and a photograph of me in my mirror.. removing my makeup. This was taken after Matt had rushed off. Someone had taken this through my bedroom window. But my apartments on the first floor how did they get it?
I turn around to face Matt who was standing in front of the door his face plastered in fear. “What.. how do you have that?” I hesitantly ask before moving further away from him. He walks up to me slowly “Get the fuck away from me I swear to god.” My eyes start to well with tears and I see Matt is smiling softly at me to try and comfort me?
“Get away Matt what is this shit?!” I bump into a wall and he corners me, “y/n please calm down, you don’t understand I..”, “I don’t understand what? You have a picture of me from through my fucking window Matt!! I knew it was too good to be true.” I choked, he lifts his hand up to my face and I slap it away. “Don’t touch me.” I sobbed before falling down to the ground.
“Hey I know you’re scared and honestly it is fucking weird but hear me out.. please?” He begged and a tear falls down his cheek. I nod softly, just wanting to make the right choices so I can get the fuck out of here. “I knew you were special the second we started speaking, and I just wanted to find stuff out about you so we could.. bond. I don’t know who took that photo but I’ll make sure that they are dealt with when I do know. Please don’t be scared of me y/n, I can protect you.”
I look up at him before standing up and smiling at him. I quickly drop that facial expression and focus my eyes on the door causing him to turn around quickly. I use this opportunity to hurry and run further into his house. I don’t know why I ran away from the exit but there’s gotta be a back door, I remember one from the party.
“Hey!” I hear him yell, his voice becoming more of a growl and I hear him speeding up behind me, I quickly dart down a hallway before being met with a dead end and one room which was obviously locked. I feel Matt grab my arms and spin me around to face him. He starts to cry more “why did you have to run darling? You aren’t being very fair.” He said in manipulative tone before squeezing my arms harder. “You’re hurting my arms.” I spluttered, trying to catch my breath from hyperventilating.
“I think I love you y/n.” He smiles at me but I don’t smile back. “I haven’t even known you a day how can you love me?” His face drops and his brows furrow before he lets go of my arms. “Get the fuck out of my house.” His voice was cold and flat. I felt bad, did I upset him, what caused him to change so rapidly? I do feel like I love him too but I can’t be in love with a psychopath.
Or can I?
A/n: ok y’all what’s ur thoughts on psycho obsessive Matt? I wasn’t even gonna go down this path w this fanfic but I want it to be an interesting fic rather than just smutty and lovey dovey. Thoughts?
Taglist: @kvtie444 @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things
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kumezyzo · 6 months
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p2 of the enemies to lovers pls!!
very fun pt.2 to thissss.... i rambled about their minecraft world cause its kinda cute and builds on their relationship a bit.
i know someone else asked for pt.2 but i could only find this one. so, im sorry it took soooo long to write.
i really hope you enjoy! or dont... :)    m.list
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having to share a minecraft house with sapnap made you realize what kind of person he actually was. he was just a six year old in a 22 year old body.
"I want my bed over hereeeeee," he whined, picking it up and moving it to the other side of the room.
it just so happened that one of the next requests from your viewers was to have your beds next to eachother. you two debated pretending like you never saw it, but the next day, it was the top comment on both of your perspectives.
or (when you first started your world)
"what colour do you want your boots?" he asked you as he died his own leather boots orange. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion for a second, looking at your camera strangley.
"what do you mean?" you asked, crafting another pickaxe.
"your leather boots?" he asked, pausing to wait for your answer. "fuck it, youre getting the plain brown."
"okay?"
but you also started to realise how much differently he truly was from when you met him.
"yn, i have a suprise for you," he announced, smiling as he grabbed the item out of his chest. "where are you?"
"chest room," you replied, completely expecting to get thrown dirt or some garbage he didnt want in his inventory.
"close your eyes," he instructed.
"no,"
"okay whatever," he sighed and threw you a notch apple. you silently let your character pick it up before you opened your inventory in disbelief.
"where did you get this?" you asked him, reading the item title over and over.
"in the desert temple," he told you simply, waiting for a 'thank you'.
you were silent for a moment, "youre telling me.... you've had this... for 15 EPISODES???"
and you two started having normal conversations. texting stopped being you two asking for face cam perspectives or gameplay. you actually started forming inside jokes, laughing with eachother instead of at the expense of eachother.
your viewers started to notice as well. you two weren't in a visibly bad mood around eachother anymore. it was refreshing. in the later videos of your series together, you're smiling through half of it, laughing together, and talking kindly to eachother.
people even started making edits of your relationship. it would be of your first interaction, swearing at each other, then fading into your side by side face cams laughing and celebrating over beating the wither.
the friends in your circle started teasing you about how your life was becoming a little fanfiction. every time you would be streaming irl, you would happen to get a text from someone that made you smile at your phone.
"oooh, yn, who are you texting?" your friend teased, seeing you type on your phone excitedly. you look up at the camera and ignore your friend, finishing the text you were sending.
"does it start with s and rhyme with snap map?" your other friend teases.
"shut the fuck up," you roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile.
when dream and george saw the clip, they were hanging out with sapnap. and a similar situation occurred with them
"was this you?" george asked, giggling. the man in question looked up from his phone and watched the clip silently. the smile on your face was contagious. and he hoped it really was him that made you react like that.
"wait, let me see," dream said, pulling georges wrist toward him to see the phone. "looks like she might be dating someone."
"yeah... definitely not me..."
then you both realized you had feelings for each other. it was a harsh realization. but it was one that made you like imagining you two together. for sap, he knew it was coming. he just knew you would never be able to leave his mind. if a childlike crush didn't manifest from it, he would have known something was wrong with him.
sap started getting the feeling that you liked him too. he can't see all those clips and edits and think you didn't like him too. but he was afraid to shoot his shot, just in case you didn't feel that strongly yet.
"hey, what do you think about coming down to florida?" he asked you when you two were on a discord call and fixing up some building in your minecraft world.
"like... to visit you?" you asked, feeling excited by the invitation.
"well- i mean- if you want," he tried to sound nonchalant, but his stammering gave it away.
"if you really want me to... im sure the viewers would really like that, too..."
when he goes to pick you up from the airport, dream comes with him. and the entire drive there, he's considering hugging you or just shaking your hand.
"do i hug her?"
"yeah, if you think you're that close now."
"i dont know if she thinks so."
"I'll hug her first, and then you hug her?"
"what if i just shake her hand?"
the silence that fell over them was sickening. dream turned to sap slowly and laughed.
"dont fucking do that, dude."
and he hugged you after dream did. it was warm, and it gave you both such intense butterflies. it was a hug that you also never really thought would happen. you thought back to the first time you met im person when you refused to even look at him, let alone stand next to him.
dream thought it was adorable, seeing you guys laugh on the way back to their house. he happily sat in the backseat and let you two interact.
he took a picture of your backlit figures in the front seat, neither of your features visible. he thinks about not posting it for half a second before he puts it up on snapchat with "👀👀" as the caption.
everyone slowly lost their minds trying to figure out who they were looking at. most people assumed it was you with sap. he's not hard to miss. but it was even more shocking that you'd be there. so others assumed it was his secret girlfriend.
you two honestly didn't mind that dream posted the picture. it was fun when you two posted a dumb video announcing that you were in florida. it started with small subtle hints.
the first video started with you laying on their couch and patches laying on your chest.
"she's purring!" you coo softly, feeling your heart meltm
then it was of you talking about absolutely nothing while you walked around the parts of the house people had seen before.
"british people are so weird, you know? like, i was talking to one today. and he was just shitting on americans. but he lives here. so i obviously had to fist fight him. i won, obviously. and stole his sock to give to a house elf."
the last video was of sapnap finding you in his office, using his pc to play snake.
"i think george is in my office again," he said from behind the camera. he opened the door and stopped in his tracks when he saw you with a concentrated look on your face. "HEY!" the video cut with you looking up in pure fear.
all of those videos were posted to your account hours apart from each other, and your views felt like it was a slow coordinated attack to make them slowly go insane. with the first video, people were sure if it was patches. the second video made them believe it more so and they started going crazy. then the last video was the icing on the cake. it was filmed on your phone and posted to your accounts.
then, you had to stream together. and that was the definition of chaos.
"yn, move over."
"no?"
"youre sleeping outside then."
"what the fuck-"
'what's one thing you guys like about each other?' a donation read out.
you two sat there for a second, thinking. "hes..." you grimaced, trying to think of something
"she... is funny?" he said painfully.
"wait, i am funny," you said defensively.
"its pure crickets when you speak."
"okay-"
"wait, im you now," you said, laughing as you put on his headphones.
"you look nothing like me," he said, deadpanned.
"oh wait," you took them off again and ran out of the room. sap sat there completely confused before you came back in wearing his beige killua hoodie. then you put the headphones back on.
"you still dont-"
"what the fuck is this music?" you ask in complete horror from the sound coming from his headphones.
"is there something playing?" he asked, clicking his mouse around to find his spotify window.
"oh my god, is this cbat?"
"no, shut the fuck up, sage"
'i thought your name was actually sage?'
you both sat there in silence before laughing loudly.
"no he was just an ass."
"and you were just a bitch."
all you have to know is that a lot of edits and ship content came from that stream. and the future streams you did with the other two. and people loved that you were hanging out with the dream team now.
the longer you spent time together in person, the more you just wanted to be around each other he remembered being afraid to hug you, but now you were sitting next to each other on the couch watching movies alone.
it was a strange dynamic neither of you chose to acknowledge purely out of fear. but then it was hard not want to cuddle during movies or occasionally hold hands if you're walking together. so sap works up the courage to finally do something about it.
you're both once again, sitting in his room, on his bed, watching some random movie you found on hulu. you're resting your head on his shoulder, only really paying attention to how he's so close to you.
you look over when he sighs heavily. he looks down at you and, without thinking, leans down to kiss you. you sigh softly, feeling your heart soar. your reaction is almost immediate, and it gives sap the incentive to keep going.
when you pull away, you're looking at eachother with droopy eyes. your heavy breath hitting eachothers faces.
"i really like you, yn" he whispers quietly between breaths, looking down at your lips briefly.
you smirk, trying to catch your breath as well. "really?" you say before you lean back in, placing your lips on his.
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i feel like there wasn't enough building onto them liking each other, but whatever. -nony
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I didn't watch the James Somerton apology video because I didn't want to give him the views, but I did watch a react video that showed basically all of it. The whole thing felt so disingenuous.
He admitted to plagiarising (I think at this point he basically had to) but the way he framed it really downplayed what he did. If you hadn't seen the evidence against him and just saw this video, it would be very easy to come away with the impression that it was a few, minor mistakes.
He talked about crediting people in the opening of his videos, implying that he credited everyone, just not at the exact point he was using their words. We know this isn't true.
He also talked about how he would copy bits into his script, intending to reword them later, but then would forget because of his "memory issues". This is a problem for so many reasons. Firstly, it implies that he thinks it's fine if he paraphrases enough that you can't find the original by putting the words into Google, even though he's still taking other people's ideas without credit. So even if this were completely true, it would still be plagiarism. Secondly, even if his memory issues are real, there would be so many ways to make sure these "mistakes" didn't happen. He could have highlighted text in a different colour to show it needs reworking. He could have written the source in brackets in the script next to the section so he remembers where it came from. This is the sort of thing that you could do once or twice by accident, but after the first few accusations of plagiarism, you would learn a way to make sure the mistake didn't happen again. You wouldn't keep doing it for years. So even if he isn't making up the memory thing completely, it wouldn't be an excuse after all this time.
He talked about using other people's work because he didn't want to just be one cis, white guy talking about important topics and how he wanted to bring other people's voices and stories into the discussion. And this is such an infuriating excuse, because he was talking over those other voices and silencing them by stealing their words and passing them off as his own.
Half of his video was him going, "This is no excuse but..." and then spinning a sob story to get the audience's sympathy.
Then there are all the things he didn't talk about. He didn't acknowledge the video pointing out the many, many ways he made stuff up in his videos or apologise for the blatant lies. There was a tiny hint about "factual errors" that was quickly glossed over.
He didn't talk about the fact that when he got accused of plagiarism the previous times, he would lie about being harassed and set his followers out to bully the people who had called him out. If you didn't know better, you could come away from this video believing that this was the first time anyone had ever caught him plagiarising.
And I think that's the point. This wasn't a video aimed at the people he's hurt or the internet in general. This was a video aimed at his fans who haven't actually watched the videos laying out the evidence against him. He downplays what he did, spins out a sob story, and then makes an apology and promises to do better in the future. I can easily imagine his fans watching this and thinking that the uproar has been overblown because poor James has got memory problems and he did put people's names in the video credits and people on the internet are being so mean to him. I think there are people who will watch this video and believe his apology because they're only James' side.
If James was remotely genuine, he wouldn't have described what happened the way he did, but the people who know the truth aren't the target audience. The target audience are the people who already like him, so he can get some control of the narrative back and stop those people from listening to everyone else.
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losergames · 14 days
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Hey!! Curious about your new template! Could you explain exactly how to add new stats please?
hello! i'm not sure if by adding new stats you mean you want to add new variables or you want to add new stat meters? they sort of go hand in hand, but i will go over them both!
first you should be aware that sugarcube 2 uses story variables (some languages, like choicescript, use the term 'global') and temporary variables. they are differentiated by their sigils -- the dollar sign ($) for story and the underscore (_) for temporary.
when working with sugarcube 2 you need to set up all important story variables in the StoryInit passage. it is one of sugarcube's special passages and it's used for the pre-story start initialization - setting up the game variables before the player has even started playing.
the definition of what is an important variable is down to you as the developer. the StoryInit passage is for setting up story variables that will be used throughout the entire project. e.g. names, gender, pronouns, appearance, personality, skills etc.
a common way to show off your variable stats is with stat meter bars. the template uses the ChapelR Meter Macro and i highly recommend reading through the demo and documentation as well as this explanation.
here is one of the example variables set up from the template:
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it is important to note that we need a $max_variable for each of the numerical stats you want to create that max out at 100%. this is especially important for the stats you want to have an 'opposing' stat, similar to choicescript.
underneath is the set up for the friendly stat meter:
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the <<newmeter>> macro must be set up in the StoryInit passage, otherwise they will not work. the colours and sizing can be set to anything you want - but for the templates sakes i have used different greys.
in order to display our stat meter we need to use the <<showmeter>> macro:
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it is very important to note that $friendly/ $max_friendly are encased in backticks and not regular apostrophes. in the template, you can find this in the profile passage. this is what our stat meter looks like in the rendered profile passage:
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i created my own stat-title div to display the stat titles and percentages:
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this is purely a stylistic choice and you do not have to copy it. but, i do find this is the easiest way to display the percentages of the stats. there is not a system or macro in twine that i'm aware of that 'creates' opposing stats (like choicescript) so we have to make one ourselves!
so, let's get into what's happening here. the 'friendly' side of the stat is simply printing the numerical value of the variable. if we were to select a choice that increased $friendly by 10, the $friendly stat would print as 60.
the 'stoic' side is printing the reverse. so if $friendly is set to 60, the print function is giving us 100 - 60 - which is 40. so - it's the 'opposing' side of the stat.
if you don't want an opposing side of the stat, like a health bar that is set between 0-100, you do not need the second <span> in the stat-title div.
in the documentation you can find that ChapelR has implemented their own way to add a stat title using the <<label>> child tag.
if we were to add the <<label>> child tag, it would look something like this:
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i personally did not use the <<label>> child tag as i like having the title and percentages of the stats over the bar instead of sitting in front of/ inside it. again, it's a stylistic choice - so it's really just down to you! unfortunately with the labels, i'm not sure if there is a way to display the text without any spaces and i am not sure if there is a way to display the percentages in it either. (if anyone knows how to do that please let me know!)
you can use my examples in the template and replace the existing variables with your own! i hope that helps you a bit more :-)
i also highly recommend reading through @/larkingame's chapelr meter macro post as it's where i first learnt how to set up stat meters myself. thanks!
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maxybabyy · 6 months
Text
inspired by this gif
He shows her a photo first. It’s not the one that he ends up ordering, but it’s close enough; the same pleated skirt but the cut of the shirt is different, the colour scheme changed too. Max, half distracted by the sim race she’s trying to join, says, “This is of course very American of you, Daniel.”
“Yeah? Did you bring the ears from last year then?” He asks and makes her squeeze further into the corner until there’s almost no space between them. “Gonna be a kitty cat again, Maxy?”
“For this, I will need also the –“ she says after squinting at the screen. She claps her hands enthusiastically and throws them up in a high V, the controller left in her lap. “The sparkly things for my hands, no? I think this will be very important, Daniel.”  
“I will get you some pompoms, baby.” He says, pulls her into a kiss when her hands still haven’t come down. “Maybe then you can do a little routine for me, yeah? Show me who you’re really cheering for?”
In the end, Max is let into the discord call and is allowed to join the race – even if she is away from her sim set-up. Daniel sits beside her and looks through uniform options, tries not to lose himself in the images of her on her knees, skirt spread wide over her thighs as she sucks his cock.
Max has a last-minute shoot with Red Bull, so he meets up with some of the others for a drink or two before the party.
It’s fine, if a bit uneventful. None of them has put much effort into their costumes. Alex looks great, but only when his girlfriend stays close enough to add complexity to the otherwise bland costume.
Max has been live blogging the shoot in their texts, another fluff piece to take the heat off Checo’s race in Mexico. And then at the end, sent just over an hour ago, a picture of the pompoms Daniel had made sure to order resting on a wide shot of Max’s thigh in the backseat of a car.
Daniel hadn’t replied, didn’t see it until now, but. He goes, downs the cup of shitty but expensive vodka and makes his excuses to Lando, who hasn’t stopped staring at both Oscar and Carlos at either end of the room like he’s at a fucking tennis match.
Max has her own drink in hand when he finds her, straw sucked deep in her mouth as she nods at whatever Charles is saying. Her cheeks are flushed, and she’s obviously having a good time if the way she’s smiling is anything to go by. She must know he’s watching because she turns to look at him, eyes bright as she waves the pompom at him.
She looks fucking amazing.
The uniform fits perfectly, and even with the sensible white long sleeve that she’s wearing underneath, she looks fucking hot. When it came in the mail, he hadn’t told her it was a Chicago Bulls costume; the ‘Bulls’ on her chest the closest thing to Red Bull he could find. But he looks at her now and thinks, ‘Maybe they should do a rebrand.’
She’s wearing the same sneakers that she always is, black and practical, and her hair is tied back in her usual high pony, only this time with a striped ribbon instead of a beige hair tie. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but Max has always been in a league of her own. In racing, in life, in Daniel’s heart –
“Hey there, pretty lady,” he says and leans in close when Charles has escaped with a choked-up laugh. “I would offer you a drink, but someone already beat me to it, huh?”
Max lets out a laugh, shakes her head. “We are of course not in Austin anymore, Daniel.”
There’s a smushed ‘3’ painted on her cheek in red; the font unlike what is usually used for jersey numbers, and instead oddly reminiscent of what it would look like on the RB19.
“Did you come here from the big game too?” He asks instead and puts a hand on her waist, his thumb poking under the fabric to rest against her skin. “Bet your team won real easy with all the attention on you, pretty girl. Hardly any eyes on the ball, I reckon.”
“Daniel! It was only golf with Checo. Always, he was very interested in the game, I think, but –“
Daniel breaks her off with a kiss when he cannot help himself anymore, pulls her closer to his chest for a moment before he steps back. “Did you come here with a boyfriend? A friend, maybe?”
Max stares at him, teeth biting into a lip that must have been painted red once. There’s still a bit of lipstick left, maybe there’s something on him now too. She must see something in his face, because she says, flushed, “Tonight, it is just me from the – the big game, of course.”
“Yeah? No quarterback waiting for you at home? I bet you looked hot cheering for your team,” he says, looks at the hand now wrapped around his neck, the pompom resting loosely against his chest. Max gives it a little shake over her head, the rustle loud in their tiny self-imposed space.
“It was a very lovely game, that,” Max hums, rubs at the eye black on his cheek. “The team, I think, is very good this year. We can of course win the ra – “ she takes a sip of her drink to hide the stumble, glares at Daniel when he laughs at her. “I can do the pyramid very well, so we will win the next match also.”
Daniel does want to hear more about Max’s ideas of cheerleading competitions, of the trophies and championships she would have won in that too. But more than that, he wants to drag her into the bathroom and make her come; fuck her open and loose so when they get back to the hotel, he can fuck her right.
“That’s your type then? Athletes?” He asks. He doesn’t kiss her, but he wants to, knows she wants it too. But they’re so close, almost there.
“It is very hot, I think, when they are also into the sport,” she says, her breath hitching when his free hand finds its way under her skirt, to the almost non-existent thong she has on. “When they are very good, I think that is very lovely also.”
“Do you have a favourite? Someone you’re just dying to meet, to fuck?”
Max whines softly, presses against the leg Daniel has shoved in between her thighs, “You are so stupid Daniel,” she says, breathy and hoarse. “You look of course very handsome in your little outfit, but always race car drivers are the –“
He kisses her, doesn’t let her finish. 
They’ve strayed from the plan; from the loose script he had in his head. But Daniel doesn’t care, feels greedy with it that even in this – drunk and unserious as they pretend to be people they aren’t – Max still cannot pick someone else, someone who isn’t fully and completely him.
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quitealotofsodapop · 2 months
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Was thinking of FFM, specifically the bit about the island being effectively isolated from the outside world. That means it's entirely possible for different strands of plant life that otherwise went extinct or had evolved different characteristics remain in suspension, only affected by the things Wukong himself brings onto the island.
Pigsy is a food connoisseur. He only uses the freshest ingredients. In Century Egg Au and Slow Boiled, he effectively becomes a parental figure to Wukong. One, who would very much likely make many a trip to FFM to check up on Wukong. Same for TMKATI except Wukong doesn't live in the mountain in that one and therefore there's less reason to visit. Imagine how he'll react when he realizes the mythical island not only has the freshest ingredients but the rarest as well!
Pigsy seeing an isolated island with some very tasty looking rare tree fruits from the view of Sandy's ship, only to learn that it has a impassable magical barrier:
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He's ok to let the matter slide... for now. He reasons with himself that whatever is on that island is better off without his mitts on it.
Until he's shaken awake by a very excitable Tang, holding a book on island isolation and evolution, rambling at a mile a minute about how the plant and animal life on the sheltered island has likely evolved completely separate from the outside world, and if this island is part of the fabled lost country of Alolai - then it likely is teeming with wildlife that evolved after the mythical Floods and Burning.
Pigsy, groggy: "Tang... how'd you get in my room???" Tang, highly-caffienated: "I haven't slept in two days!" Sandy, texting: "Is he at your place now?"
Eventually after forcing the scholar to calm down and take a rest before his heart gives out, Pigsy is told something that really tickles his inner connoisseur.
Tang: "Before it was introduced and selectively bred, potatoes could only be encountered in remote areas of the Andes mountains." Pigsy: "And?" Tang: "Imagine if you discovered the next potato." Pigsy: *squeal of intrigue!*
Needless to say, Pigsy has his own Nerd Moment™ the first time he actually touches down on the island and recognises a bunch of rare species.
Pigsy, side-tracked by a tree: "Sweet Chang'e! This is looks like a button mangosteen! I've never heard of them growing this far north! The skin is more red-orange though, maybe it's a branched variety back when the islands were connected to the mainland? Button Mangosteens taste closer to tangerines than their purple cousins, I wonder if that intesifies based on colouration." Sandy, delighted for his friend: "You seem to be having lots of fun!" Pigsy: *nodding happily*
He's equally delighted in the TMKATI au to have "Such a resourceful employee!" when Wukong comes back from his visits to the island bearing gifts. It caught him off guard the first time though.
Wukong: "Hey boss, I got you something." Pigsy, opening a box: "Wu... are these fresh truffles?!" Wukong, wondering if he did something wrong: "Yeah, why? Did I mess up? I overheard you talking about wanting to have enough to experiment with and-" Pigsy: "No no! I'm... I'm so grateful, I don't even know what to say... How did you even afford these?" Wukong, genuine confusion: "Afford? I just gathered a bunch from the lime orchard at home. There's hundreds of these things - I don't like 'em personally cus they taste like dirt to me. I normally just toss them in the hotpot when I run out of the chicken-tasting ones." Pigsy: "Excuse me."
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I hc that in the direct aftermath in returning to FFM during the White Bone Spirit chapter of JTTW; Sun Wukong did a lot of gardening and farming in order to ensure that his people would have a sustainable source of food. Probably convinced Zhu Bajie to "show off his super-cool 9-Toothed Rake" to start the farmers off.
He also plants a bunch of super-rare and super-divine plants on the island that he picks up in his travels.
Wukong, chilling on a tree clearly not native to the island: "What? I like using the leaves as nesting material."
And lets not mention the super rare species of animals that managed to survive/escape the Burning.
FFM probably has an undiscovered wild cat or two that Sandy accidentally befriends.
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