i've been so fucked up for months i haven't been able to go downtown to pick up my work from last spring from my school's textile studio and they always have a cutoff date like if you don't pick up your old work by x date they toss it and they're pretty strict about that unless you arrange with the studio tech beforehand, and the studio tech doesn't like most people she's pretty curt with most students. not rude but just keeps things professional and a bit distant, a very serious person. but i know she grew to like me over the past few years/warmed up to me a lot and we'd chat a lot about different textile things and she would say really kind things to me a lot which felt rare and special, and she let me have special treatment with some of the equipment because she trusted me to use it properly. and i haven't seen her in nearly a year and i expected her to have tossed my work out when i didn't come to pick it up last fall and emailed her to explain why and dropped off the face of the earth, i made my peace with losing that work and accepted it, it is what it is, i will survive, etc.
but she emailed me earlier this week and said she didn't have the heart to toss my work and has kept it safe in her office for me if i'm ever able to come pick it up and if not she's going to keep it as an example piece to show other students when teaching weaving because it's too lovely to get rid of and my heart swelled like 10 times its size bc she didn't have to do that and it meant so much to me that even a year from seeing her last she was still thinking about me and being kind to me. and i emailed her back and picked it up today and saw her and we chatted for a bit and it was so nice. I love her I miss my school's textile studio and weaving in there and talking craft with her... sigh
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my dream "sekai meet" scenario is vbs enrolling in a vocaloid appreciation event and realizing they can't NOT do it with the actual hatsune miku herself. its risky yeah and it might raise a lot of questions they do not know if they can answer but after everything she's done to help them, it would just feel. wrong. to leave her out.
it also means akito has to painstakingly, begrudgingly, crawl his way onto the rooftop to ask rui of all people if he, by chance, could somehow make them a device or something that could project, theoretically, someone who lives in their phone or something maybe, not actually because hahah wouldn't that be crazy hatsune miku isn't real but if she was. if he could make something for that so they could perform together.
and rui just. whips the thing out of his backpack. already made. akito has a million question but rui's only one is if his miku is a cat, too.
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Sorry to double up on your inbox, but I had this burning idea.
Suppose Fuuta's sister has had her hair styled like the Milgram girls at various points. What scenarios might come up when Fuuta mistakes the girls for his sister?
I know you were looking for ideas on all of the girls but I got really carried away with this one train of thought with Kotoko, so have some of that instead 😭 I'm such a sucker for 02-04-06 seeming the type to use beauty products and know their way around a lot of hair care, and triggering memories for Fuuta via scents/sounds of his sister's job. And as you've seen I'm so emotional over him seeing Amane as an equal as they both care for each other and she feels like family...
Fuuta was used to people disappointing him.
He’d been let down by his mother, then his father. He’d seen how all of society screws its people over. His own friends had turned their backs on him when things got rocky. Even here, he couldn’t count on any of these people to look out for him. Well, all except one.
Kotoko.
He’d actually done a double take when he first saw her. Her hair was styled much like his sister’s; from behind, it could have been her with a bit of dye.
It wouldn’t have been so bizarre for her to color her head shining black. After all, that had always been his sister’s method of rebellion. His father was a traditional man, and hated to see her chop all her hair off, chop others’ hair off, add more piercings, or change it to any and every shade that wasn’t the family’s natural red. Fuuta had always thought they were all hollow exercises, more for attention than anything else. (It was nothing like the actual action he was taking to break away from his father’s strictness). Seeing Kotoko wear an eerily similar look, and hearing how closely her views aligned with his, he started to understand the appeal.
While the others were intimidated by her appearance, Fuuta found it familiar. Unlike the rest of the prison, he had no hesitation in approaching her. He was more willing to sit beside her at meals. He joined in her conversations in the common area.
Mahiru kept going on about being everyone’s ‘big sis,’ but she never took a damned thing seriously. Yuno told Fuuta he reminded her of her little brother, but the last thing he needed was to be treated like some baby. Kotoko, on the other hand, knew exactly how to speak with him.
She came to show him her solidarity before his interrogation. She gave him tips on working out, and joined in his conversations about the injustice of current prison systems. She even had his back when he was scolding Mikoto about taking fighting styles seriously. He jeered at the notion that Kotoko could overpower Kazui. Though, deep down, he’d seen how strong the woman was. For someone the same age as him, and busy with university like him, she had insanely impressive power.
He’d never dare admit it, but he looked on in awe whenever she worked out in the common areas.
Fuuta found even more comfort in her strength as the trial came to a close. The two ended up with opposite verdicts, but that wasn’t anything new. Teachers, neighbors, relatives – everyone had reasons to praise his sister while dragging up grievances against him. Both women had a sort of brash charisma that people enjoyed. He usually only got the label of “brash.” Kotoko was saved his rant that it all came from their differences in gender and beauty. Fuuta was confident she’d come to the same conclusion already.
After all, what else separated them? They were here for practically the same reason.
He didn’t let it get under his skin. While the prisoners shied away from him and the others named unforgiven, he could always count on Kotoko to speak with him as honestly and directly as usual.
The warden and the prisoners weren’t the only ones to let him down: the voices in his head had gone from a fair debate to a loud, nasty mob with each passing day.
They seemed to be at their very worst, now. He was going on a few nights of little to no sleep thanks to their nonstop judgment. Fuuta tossed and turned in his sheets, cursing the new uniform that made it impossible to relax. It had been exhausting, consumed by fear and guilt and anger. Everything had him jumpy these days.
He flinched as his cell door creaked.
His bleary eyes turned to the silhouette in the doorway. A name instinctively came to his lips. Thankfully, he corrected himself before making the embarrassing mistake.
“It’s you, Kotoko.” It was strange for her to be here at this hour. And completely unannounced, at that.
“Kajiyama Fuuta…”
He didn’t care. He smiled. After all, surrounded by so many betrayals, he always felt safer with her around.
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