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vettelsvee · 5 hours ago

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LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO + MAX VERSTAPPEN PLS

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO | Max Verstappen

⋆ PAIRING: Max Verstappen x Ex girlfriend actress Female!Reader ⋆ SUMMARY: After breaking up with Max, your boyfriend of three years, you decide to move forward and show people that you weren't the villain of your story ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it anon 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT ⋆ WARNINGS: Curse words ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2574 ⋆ VEE'S NOTES: Does university have me mentally draining? Yes. Did my doctor tell me to take a break since I'm on lots of medication and I didn't listen? Also yes ✨ Anyways, hope you like this one, and remember that I'd love to read your comments and feedback, and that reblogs are very much appreciated as well! Thank you so much, and enjoy your reading! <3 ↳ TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST | CITY OF STARS F1 AU

The worst part of the breakup wasn’t losing Max.

It was losing yourself.

Despite being a world-renowned actress with a thriving career long before you started dating the Dutchman, the last three years of your life had revolved around him.

You weren’t just one of the most admired couples in the paddock, you were also Hollywood’s golden pair. The actress and the Formula 1 world champion, unstoppable together. Rumors of weddings and pregnancies swirled around your seemingly perfect (at least in the public eye) love story.

So when everything ended abruptly, without explanation from either of you to everyone, the world needed a villain.

The headlines spoke for themselves:

"Y/N Y/L/N DUMPS MAX VERSTAPPEN AFTER USING HIM FOR FAME" "DID Y/L/N EVER LOVE VERSTAPPEN?" "FORMULA 1’S GOLDEN BOY, BETRAYED"

The comments from people who once admired you were even worse. If the insults were harsh, the death threats were unbearable. Demands flooded in for you to issue a public apology for a “crime” you hadn’t committed, for nothing more than just a breakup that Max himself had initiated to focus on his career, as he told you and excused himself with. Every interview you gave was twisted, your words manipulated. And instead of staying silent, like your words, the press loudly proclaimed that you were the reason Verstappen's performance had declined last season.

Max knew about it all. After all, he’d been asked about it countless times during press conferences. Reporters bombarded him with headlines starring you both, turning your private lives into international gossip. Yet, all he did was smile politely and dismiss the questions as if they were mere inconveniences.

You had expected at least a call from him to find some way to put an end to it all. But when he never reached out, you decided to call him yourself. All you got was a voicemail telling you to try again later. And when you did, again and again, he ended up blocking your number, showing you how things actually were between you both.

You never got an answer. You never found out why he decided to ignore how the world was painting the woman he had supposedly loved.

That’s when you decided to stop waiting for an answer, a real and proper explanation.

If they wanted a villain, you’d give them one.

You didn’t just delete your social media and vanish from the public eye, you also returned to the industry in full force, accepting a lead role in a film after years of turning projects down just to support Max race after race. A psychological thriller that intrigued you from the moment you read the script, because the character felt too familiar and close. A woman scorned, reborn from the ashes of her own destruction.

“She gave them everything, and now she’ll take it all back.”

That one line was enough to fuel your performance, turning it into a masterclass in acting. Your director praised you endlessly, your co-stars were in awe, and even the producers—one of whom had once been a key sponsor of Max—were captivated. You convinced them to join the project though you weren’t really sure if they ended up doing so out of pity or as a subtle jab at the driver who had severed ties with them at the peak of his career.

Either way, the message was clear: a middle finger to the boy in a narrative where you were only ever relevant because of him.

Then came your real return to the public eye. Your rebirth.

The docile girl who once stayed quiet, who barely spoke to the press, who even put her acting career on hold. The girl who lived in Max Verstappen’s shadow, was gone.

Your first public appearance, where you began promoting the film that would mark your resurgence, was at the Cannes Film Festival. You walked the red carpet with a confidence you hadn't felt in years, perhaps ever. The camera flashes were relentless, but you smiled because you knew exactly what they had expected to see: a broken, shattered woman.

Instead, your thirst for revenge made sure you left an impression, one so striking that it became the talk of the town for days.

“Y/N Y/L/N: UNBOTHERED QUEEN OR A POISONOUS SNAKE?”

You couldn't help but smirk when you read the article. In fact, you couldn’t resist making it your first Instagram post in that new era.

“Let them talk,” you thought. Because in a few weeks, everything would become even more interesting.

You had known you’d see Max again the moment you received an invitation to a TAG Heuer event as part of your film’s promotion. Your agent had tried to find a way to decline, suggesting excuses convincing enough to avoid the inevitable encounter.

Your answer?

You told her to find the best designer in the industry to create a dress dripping in subtle, unmistakable messages. A dress that would make it clear just how much you had moved on.

And so, in the heart of Monaco, in a lavish mansion hosting the exclusive party, you finally saw him again.

To no one’s surprise, he was wearing the same suit he always chose for events like this. His hair was styled, though slightly tousled because you knew he hated looking too put-together. A champagne flute rested in his hand as he moved through the room, making conversation with the other guests, effortless as ever.

Then, just as he finished speaking with his team principal, Christian Horner, and his wife, he turned.

And his eyes met yours.

415 days.

That’s how long it had been since the last time he looked at you.

You couldn’t lie, it hit you like a punch to the gut. A searing, burning weight in your chest, making it hard to breathe. Especially when he began walking toward you slowly, deliberately.

And when you saw the flicker of emotion in his gaze, when you felt the sting of tears threatening your own eyes, you reminded yourself why you were there.

You thought of every headline they had written about you. The way the media had twisted your story, painted you as something you weren’t. The way your reputation had plummeted overnight, forcing you to rebuild yourself into someone new, someone unbreakable.

Most of all, you thought about the moment Max chose to cut you out of his life completely when all you ever wanted was just an explanation for the breakup.

Just for him to care enough to silence the world that had made your life a living hell.

That was the moment you realized you were ready to see Max again.

He, however, wasn’t ready to see you.

“Y/N. Long time no see.”

He stood in front of you, avoiding your gaze. His voice was rough, uncertain.

“Max,” you murmured, taking a sip of your champagne, ignoring the way his eyes lingered on your lips. “It’s been a while.”

He didn’t answer, and you didn’t bother to say anything else. Instead, you turned toward the balcony just a few steps away, where the view stretched across most of the principality. The city lights shimmered before you, captivating you, reminding you that this place had once been your safe haven, your refuge… The setting of dreams that never became reality, of a life you once envisioned but that crumbled before it could ever be built.

You tensed at the sound of footsteps behind you, but you didn’t turn around.

You knew it was Max. And you also knew you should have left. Should have walked away, let him drown in his guilt, let the weight of regret eat away at him.

But instead, you drank the last sip of champagne, carelessly let the empty glass slip from your fingers, watching as it shattered into tiny shards against the floor, then turned to face him.

“Are you just going to stand there looking at me like I’m the best thing you’ve ever seen in your fucking life, or are you going to say something that makes sense for once?”

He inhaled sharply. You knew you had hit where it hurt the most: his pride.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice was low, but his frustration was unmistakable. “To play the vengeful ex? To prove something? To prove something to yourself?”

You let his words settle, rolling them over in your mind, searching for a reply that would cut just as deep.

“Prove something? To someone? To myself?” You tilted your head back and let out a hollow laugh. “That’s funny, Max, because I don’t think I’ve ever needed to prove anything to anyone, including you. Tell me, have I ever needed to prove anything to you?”

Yes, that you loved him with everything you had. And where had that gotten you?

“You’ve turned this into a game, into some kind of performance,” he said coldly, his blue eyes cutting into you like daggers.

“If you want to say so…” you smirked, voice laced with mockery, "Honestly, I wouldn't mind being the actress starring in your bad dreams but, between you and I… I think I already am."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. Max, however, wasn’t laughing. His irritation was growing, his anger simmering beneath the surface, and for the first time, you felt a flicker of unease at the way he was looking at you, clouded with something dark, something dangerous.

“A game? Seriously, Max?” You spoke again, stepping closer, fingers playing with the fabric of his tie. “Tell me, who was the one who started this game? Was it me, when I heard you say you wanted to focus on your career instead of a relationship? Was it your fans, when they decided I was the villain in our story? Was it when they painted me as the ruthless bitch who left you the moment I got the fame I wanted? Or was it when you stayed silent, letting them believe it, knowing damn well it was all a lie?”

Max flinched. He knew you were right, but his pride, his damn pride, kept him from admitting it.

“I never—”

“Oh, cut the bullshit,” you cut him off, turning away before spinning back to face him. “You never defended me. You let them say whatever the hell they wanted. You let them tear me apart while you laughed at their comments, dodged their questions… feeding into the rumors you knew weren’t true.”

“It wasn’t that simple—”

“No, Max, it really was that simple,” you shot back, raising your voice. “It was as simple as telling the truth. Or saying something, anything, really. Even a lie would’ve been better than leaving me to burn the way you did. You let them think I used you, that I never loved you, that I walked away without a second thought.”

“You did walk away, don’t act like you didn’t—”

You froze. You had heard that accusation before, over and over. But the way he said it now, the coldness in his tone, it was what finally made you snap.

“What the hell was I supposed to do, Max? Follow you around like some desperate puppy after you told me you wanted to focus on your career?” you shouted, not caring who might hear. “Stay with you while every headline called me a gold-digging whore? Let strangers tell me and truly believe that, if I had a career, it was only because of you?”

Your breath was coming faster now, your chest tightening with an anxiety you hadn’t felt in a long time, and you didn’t miss.

“Do you even know what it’s like, Max? To have your entire existence reduced to being someone’s girlfriend and the main character of a series of meaningless scandals?”

Max said nothing.

“You never had to explain yourself, Max. Never. If you won races, they praised you. If you lost, they still worshiped you. If you got into fights or disappeared for weeks, you were still Red Bull’s golden boy, still the one everyone adored. But me?” You shook your head, laughing bitterly. “I had to justify my own success… the success I had built long before you and I were ever a thing.”

“I never wanted that for you—”

“And yet, you let it happen.” Your voice softened, a hint of something almost like pity creeping in. “You let them destroy me just to keep yourself clean. I don’t know if it was your idea, your dad’s, or your PR team’s, and honestly, I don’t even care anymore. I don’t wish the same on you, Max, I really don’t… but I do wish you’d had to live through it, even just for a second, so you’d understand.”

“I…”

Max dragged a hand through his hair, restless. His eyes darted around, unable to meet yours, his whole body tense with unspoken words. And despite everything, despite all the pain, you knew one thing for certain: at the end of your reputation, you were truly feeling alive.

“I didn’t know what to do,” he finally admitted. “I didn’t know how to fix it. How to make it stop—”

“That’s the thing, Max,” you murmured, tilting your head. “You never had to fix anything. You just had to stand by me.”

The weight of those words settled between you both, heavy and inescapable.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, staring at each other, reliving every second, every memory, every moment you once thought would last forever.

Max thought about how much he wanted to go back to those moments. You simply smiled to yourself, knowing you had walked away from the person who had broken every single promise to protect you.

“Did you ever love me?”

The question caught you completely off guard. A lump formed in your throat.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to remember everything…

The way you looked at him, and he at you, as if nothing else in the world existed.

The way he held you in his arms every night before bed, only to do it again as you both drifted off to sleep.

The way you cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, in front of everyone, after he won a race, a championship, feeling as if the world around you had vanished.

A year ago, even a few months ago, that question would have been easy to answer. But now?

You remembered how lonely you felt when the world turned against you. How Max seemed to disappear from the face of the earth, only to reappear on TV, in Formula 1, no longer as your ex-boyfriend but as a public figure you had once idolized enough to believe you belonged by his side.

“I don’t think that matters anymore.”

You didn’t say anything else. Wrapping your arms around yourself, seeking comfort, reassurance, trying to convince yourself you were doing the right thing.

"Goodbye, Max."

For the first time, as you walked away from Max Verstappen, you didn’t look back.

He felt lost. For the first time, he truly understood that he had lost the love of his life and regretted not doing anything to stop it.

But you? You simply smiled and kept walking, head held high, feeling better than ever because this time, for the first time ever, you had won.

And also, for the first time ever, you weren’t going to apologize for winning.

If you like my content, and would like to support me, you can do it here <3 Thank you so much for reading until the very end! <3

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beautifulfrog · 2 days ago

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I'm alive, and it took me almost three months to do this. Just one drawing was really hard to finish, but I hope to be able to post more often. The truth is, I still love Monsters, Inc. and the purple lizard. I'm a little tired, for those who might be wondering. Honestly, I had to change psychiatrists after a really tough incident. But whatever, I think I'll keep drawing, even at my own pace.

Thank you so much for all your comments on my last post; I love you all. In context, I was SO inspired by the alternate story in @randall-simp-nadt88 about Randall going to prison. I think it was a really cool idea, and I couldn't help but think it was intriguing to see another path. That's why I wrote this short story alongside the drawing. Feel free to add and comment on anything. By the way, here in Mexico, mental health hospitals are very different from what one might imagine. Obviously, they can have unpleasant situations like anywhere else, but generally, they're not like in the movies. I'm not promoting any ideas or bad ideas about these types of places; I just wanted to adapt the "shady asylum" stereotype to ME. I just think it was necessary to clarify this.

I'm really sorry if the translation is wrong, I'm still learning English properly.

Ohno

Randall was arrested shortly after he had once again become involved in a conspiracy with another energy company (and again, for having fled two weeks before being found), this time leading to a possible terrorist act in the city. It wasn't long before Johnny Worthington managed to afford him a decent lawyer so he could face a fair trial. Even if the horned one was in prison, he managed to have some power.

The trial took place barely a month after he was captured. Clearly, he didn't have the money to even pay bail. He was completely broke, since after his exile, he had already been classified as a missing person and a fugitive. His apartment was evicted, his family (who didn't even call) took his belongings, and unfortunately for him, the only monster that kept him fed was still in prison. He was alone, with the entire city against him.

Due to protocol and background, he was ordered to remain locked in an isolated cell while in the custody of the authorities.

Cameras monitored his movements day and night, and he was never allowed to go out or socialize with others. He didn't really want that, but he hated every second in there. To add a layer to his obvious humiliation and defeat, he was fitted with an ankle tracker on his hind legs, as well as being required to wear a thick metal collar around his neck that connected to the cell wall. This was normally used for large, aggressive monsters like himself, as monsters were aware of their physical superiority over others. Randall showed discontent, occasionally causing mockery among the guards.

That was the beginning of something serious. Just a short time after being sent to the cell, Randall began to experience some episodes of paranoia. He began to have regular hallucinations about things from the past, voices making their presence felt behind him, small shadows or familiar figures passing by him. The nightmares also manifested during the night, centering on the horrible memory of being repeatedly hit in the face with the sharp shovel. Every time he woke up, he ran in search of a hiding place. But there wasn't one, and this stressed him out.

His aggressiveness toward the police also increased dramatically, as he no longer allowed them to speak to him or approach him. This led to multiple problems and a possible increase in his sentence. His lawyer clearly had no interest in Randall's freedom, but he was working to reduce his sentence, which, had it been a trial held forty years ago, would have undoubtedly condemned him to death. He spoke with the judge privately and agreed to perform a special examination to assess his mental state before the trial, since, in his words, "Randall will not survive prison." With permission, he was taken for X-rays, interviews, tests, and a few sessions with specialists.

The results were a traumatic brain injury, caused by the severe blow to the head he received in the human world (also accompanied by characteristics of post-traumatic stress disorder when he remembered it). His memory, behavior, and reactions suggested that he was unstable enough to appear in court, and that gave the lawyer the opportunity to finish his work cleanly.

On trial day, too many monsters were present to testify against him (as expected, Sullivan and Mike were there, getting on his nerves). They all said the same things...

"He's sick!"

"He's a psychopath!"

"He threatened me constantly..."

"He could have murdered my entire family!"

And when he least expected it, his sentence was final. They said he wouldn't go to prison, and that made him strangely happy for a few seconds before the punishment was announced, followed by a hammer blow.

"You'll go to the city mental hospital, the trial's over."

Randall was indignant and filled with rage after those words, having no idea what it would mean to be locked up in a place where supposedly all those who had no hope of being cured went. The lizard cursed, kicked, and growled at the guards who held his shoulders so they could drag him away. The humiliation and pain increased when he saw for the first time the pitying faces of a few coworkers he'd once had. He was finished.

The most painful part was leaving the courtroom, surrounded by some guards and nurses who would take him to the van of the mental hospital where he would be sent. The press photographed every moment and struggle, even though Randall tried to hide. For protocol and security reasons, Randall was restrained by heavy metal handcuffs fitted to his thin wrists, and a straitjacket that kept his lower arms still.

The muzzle soon covered his mouth, clamping his jaws to deny him the freedom to bite or threaten the journalists intrigued by his case. Randall no longer remembered much of the event and always refused to hear a word about it. It was a total humiliation.

The first few days at the mental hospital were filled with resistance and aggression. Again, because Randall was sent there for a fairly strong criminal record, they had to apply strict protocol to him. They isolated him in a padded room, where they forced him to wear a loose-fitting white shirt so he wouldn't try to take advantage of his unique camouflage.

They also gave him medication based on his diagnosis and the results of the therapy he received regularly (he remained very reserved when asked any questions). He was forbidden to drink coffee for a time, and the food there was relatively empty and boring. Most of the time it was soup, and he couldn't even go to the bathroom without someone having to watch him outside.

The hospital was incredibly large, but Randall didn't know even half of it. He was prohibited from entering and leaving many areas. He lost contact with the outside world; he knew practically nothing about what was going on outside because visits were strictly regulated and his contact with the other inmates was nonexistent. He didn't hang out with them, he thought it was a mistake to be there and that he would soon get out.

Clearly, that wasn't the case. The only privilege he had was that he was occasionally allowed to smoke outside for a while, but someone always had to be there to light his cigarette and make sure it didn't burn. He felt like a child, and that bothered him. Days, weeks, and months passed... Randall accepted his new reality, but it only led to the dreaded depression.

Realizing that he was only sent there because he was weak and because it was the quickest way to get rid of him was a hard blow. Everyone was living their lives out there while he was rotting away in a nursing home for other outcasts like him. No one was going to rescue him, and that filled him with immense despair.

He was the only one who would die alone.

#monsters inc #randall boggs #artwork #frogs #artists on tumblr #monsters university #disney

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shuaasumii · 1 day ago

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“Teddy Bear”

“I would get you all the teddy bears in the world if I could”

pairing: dad!dk x mom!reader

genre: flufff, some angst

warnings: reader + dk’s toddler is quite mischievous

tags: dk is the cutest dad ever, dokyeom also down BAD for his wife and baby

summary: you and your husband finally decide that getting your daughter a teddy bear of her own would be a good idea.

a/n: tysm @issysh3ll for the adorable dividers !

After a long, exhausting day at work, you are overjoyed to be coming home to your husband and four year old, Sol. That joy is quickly washed away when you are welcomed home by sounds of distress, that you assume are coming from Sol. Concerned, you walk into the living room to find your crying daughter and a frustrated Dokyeom.

“What happened Solie?” You ask bringing her into your arms.

She looks up at you with tears still falling down her cheeks, the sight alone made your heart break, “Papa yelled at me.”

This confuses you, you know that your ball of sunshine of a husband could never do such a thing to his baby. It’s usually you in the relationship who tends to be disciplining Sol.

“That’s not true. I was telling her that what she did today at preschool was wrong,” Seokmin tries to justify himself.

“What did you do baby?” You ask sternly.

Sol was too afraid to answer your question, so your husband does for her, “she stole one of her classmate’s teddy bear.”

Shocked, you look down at your daughter, who’s too focused on playing with the buttons of your shirt to look back at you. “Baby why would you do that? You know stealing is wrong.”

“I ju-just wanted mama and papa to give me a teddy bear t-too,” she confesses in between sniffles.

This makes your heart break, you look at Dokyeom to see if he has the same reaction. You see him staring down at his baby in your lap with a look of sadness in his eyes. You and your husband never had to buy Sol toys, not because you thought she didn’t deserve them. But because she had 12 other uncles who spoiled her to bits. Though, maybe it was time to gift her toys of your own.

“Oh Solie, I would get you all the teddy bears in the world if I could,” Dokyeom leaned over to wipe the tears from her tiny face.

That night you tucked Sol into bed promising her that the next day, you would buy her as much teddy bears as her little heart desired.

The next morning, you and Seokmin woke up extra early so that you both could have enough time to get ready to go to the nearest toy store. Staying true to the promise you initiated with Sol the previous night, today you and your family of three were heading to the mall to get your daughter teddy bears of her own.

“Alright Solie, where are we going today?” Dokyeom asked, making eye contact with Sol in the rear view mirror.

“The toy store!” She giggled as she kicked her feet in excitement.

“That’s right baby, and what are we going to do there?” He said, backing out of the driveway.

“Buy a teddy!”

Tring, the little bell rang as Dokyeom pushed open the door, keeping it open so you and Sol could walk through. Such a gentleman, you thought. The store was the definition of cutesy, filled to the brim with kawaii stationary items and soft plushies. Sol immediately fell in love, she ran around like— well a kid in a toy store.

“Baby, don’t forget why we came here,” you told your daughter, who was still distracted by the amount of stuff on the shelves.

You and DK followed behind her as she found the plushie isle. There was dozens of teddy bears, one of every color in the rainbow. Despite the amount of colorful bears, Sol’s eyes fell on a simple one. It had the classic beige color and a pink bow wrapped around its neck.

She picked the the stuffed animal up, giving it a quick test hug, “I want this one daddy.”

A smile formed on your lover’s face. “Then that’s the one you’ll get,” he scooped up Sol, walking in the direction of the cash register.

You watched as your husband and daughter skipped hand in hand down the parking lot to your car. Though the skipping was quite awkward because of the obvious height difference.

Just as you both finished buckling the four year old into her car seat, she stopped you from leaving, “thank you mommy and daddy.” Sol smiled that big smile that mirrored her father’s exactly.

You felt like your heart was overfilling with love at the sight of your daughter happy. Seokmin as well stared at her with that look in his eyes that screamed she’s growing up too fast.

“You’re welcome Solie, you’re so welcome.”

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thisisjustfanfic · 2 days ago

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Cleaning up the Timeline

{You get your job back and celebrate. And then you meet someone at the park.}

Read on ao3. Part One.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance

Chapter 17: Gravity

Your knee won’t stop bouncing with anxiety. The sights and smells of the Hunter’s Association are familiar but foreign. It’s been too long since you’ve been in this building, and you feel like everyone can tell.

Xavier leans over to place a hand on your trembling knee and gives you a warm smile. “It’ll be alright. You can do this.”

You sit up and take a short breath, “I didn’t talk to any of the counselors she recommended. I technically haven’t done anything to prove I can come back to work. What should I say? Oh, I’m feeling much better! My four boyfriends helped me stop being all dark and twisty inside?”

Xavier chuckles and sits back in his seat. The two of you are waiting for an appointment with Captain Jenna, and you’re close to bursting. Thankfully, Xavier is more than calm. If anything, he’s bursting with excitement. He’s tagged along to personally request you as his permanent partner.

Jenna’s assistant calls for you, and your heart jumps into your throat. Xavier takes your hand to stand and follows you all the way to the door— only letting go when you enter without him. You have to speak with Jenna alone first, and at least Xavier believes in you.

Jenna is as stoic as always. A tall, thin figure of authority that rivals Zayne with her icy expressions. “It’s good to see you.” She says almost warmly and nods to the seat across from her desk.

You take a steadying breath and sit, “Thank you for seeing me.”

”I heard you were hurt,” Jenna wastes no time, cutting to the quick. “How are you?”

You laugh sheepishly, “There was a small stalking incident. I suffered a mild rib fracture, but I’m fully recovered now! I’m ready to get back to work.”

Jeanna sits down at her high backed carbon-black chair. The screen on her desk is illuminated with the many open files she has up— open cases of protofield fluctuations, wanderer sightings and attacks, and an increase in flux stabilizer vandalism.

“I’m willing to talk terms.” Jenna says like she’s opening up a hostage negotiation. “If you can tell me why I suspended you in the first place.”

Your hands clench in your lap, and the scarf around your neck feels suddenly too hot. “I…I wasn’t performing to standard. I was slacking, and missing work without reason.”

Jenna’s eyes narrow, and she leans back in her chair. All of a sudden, you’re eight years old again. Sitting in the principal’s office of your elementary school, wondering what the right thing to say is to get you out of trouble.

You can tell that isn’t what she wanted to hear, and so you try again, “I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was depressed and not coping with what happened. You suspended me for my own good, because I wasn’t well.”

A beat passes, a quiet tick of the clock as Jenna lets you mull over your words. At the time, it’d felt like one cruelty after another, but you know now– with a clear head and a healing heart– that it was the right thing to to do.

“I also heard that you were evicted from your apartment.” Jenna’ voice is even, but her eyes are frigid. “When I inquired what had happened with the landlord, he told me you left no forwarding address. I apologize for that. If you had reached out, I would have made things clear with the landlord and fixed it.”

Sitting up a little bit straighter, you mind whirls at that. Spinning with the conjured alternate present that would have occurred had you thought for half a second. Why hadn’t you thought to just ask Jenna to talk to the landlord? The past three months would be so different.

You look out the window at the skyline of Linkon city, and imagine a world where you hadn’t been on that park bench. Where you hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to be Zayne’s housekeeper.

Spring is just around the corner, if you had been smarter, would you be greeting the cherry blossoms alone? It’s hard to fathom that. A reality where you aren’t intertwined in the four of them.

You shake your head, “To be honest, it didn’t even occur to me. Everything happened so quickly and I was so…well, you know. I was out of it.”

“I regret placing you on leave without ensuring you had a support system. I fear I may have only made it worse.” Jenna’s face curdles with guilt.

You’re quick to correct her, “Oh no! I reconnected with a friend, and I’m very happy where I am now. I have a new place, and they’ve helped me back on my feet. That’s why I’m here today. I want to come back, ma’am.”

Jenna’s features soften, and her warm eyes fall on you with a little bit of hope. “I see. I’m glad to hear it. Well, as I promised, your position here with the UNICORNS is waiting for you. But, protocol dictates that you be put on probation for ninety days before you’re fully reinstated.”

You nod emphatically, “Of course, that’s fine. I understand, and I’m ready to prove myself.”

Jenna taps away at her computer for a moment. “Tara, of course, will be ecstatic. The others missed you as well– I was certain there would be a mutiny.”

You can’t help but laugh, “I apologize for any grief I may have caused, captain.”

“I prefer fruit bouquets over flowers.” Jenna remarks, and then stands from her chair. A dry joke that she merely smirks at. “Now, I’ve sent a message down to HR to reinstate your ID. Head over to armament and they’ll set you up with a new watch– we’ve upgraded since you were last here.”

You rise to your feet, and follow her back towards the door, “When can I start?”

Jenna smiles in that matronly way she does when one of her subordinates amuse her, “Next Monday. There’s a cleanup effort on the south side of the city, and they need some Hunters to supervise in case of Wanderer interference. I’ll send you the details when you come back Monday morning.”

“Right! Thank you so much Captain Jenna. I…I really can’t thank you enough for letting me come back.”

Jenna opens the door and you step out, feeling fifty pounds lighter. The Captain of the Unicorns shakes her head, “This was always the plan. Go ahead and check in with the others if you’d like. I’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes I need to get to.”

Xavier is standing six feet away. Though his expression is even, you can see the eagerness sparkling in those cerulean eyes. The twinkling of wishing stars.

“I won’t keep you any longer then. Thank you again, Captain. I’ll be here bright and early on Monday.” You try not to bounce too much with glee, and Jenna laughs at your barely tempered excitement.

Captain Jenna retreats back to her office, and you approach Xavier. He takes your hand like he might lead you in a dance, but instead just draws you close. “How’d it go?”

“Perfectly, just like you said. I start again on Monday.” You practically squeal.

Xavier’s eyes crinkle with his smile, and the air around you feels a little bit lighter. “That gives us enough time to get some more training in. We should run some simulations as partners to make sure we’re on top of our game.”

You elbow him with a bubbly giggle, “Are you ever not on the top of your game? C’mon I have to get a new watch from Armament. And then I want to stop by HR to make sure they got Jenna’s message.”

Your coworkers are happy to see you, and Tara nearly tackles you when she spots you in the office. Some confess their concern when you disappeared– how much they noticed you struggling, and how much they fought Jenna on suspending you.

It’s startling, realizing how much your fellow Hunters cared. Even when you were lost in a fog– when their faces had turned into nothing but blurs and their words fell on deaf ears– they had cared. The anxiety you’d been feeling since deciding to come back eases even more. There wouldn’t be some great awkwardness to overcome, thank god.

Xavier lingers near you while you’re fitted for a new watch, and the armament team goes over the changes. An updated GPS system. Improved vitals tracking, and increased sensitivity to protocurve fluctuations.

HR is….hr. It’s a corporate nightmare of legal jargon and people-pleasing. You minimize your time there as much as possible, only making sure someone has it in the system to reinstate you as an active Hunter.

Xavier treats you to oversized ridiculous boba on your way home. The kind that’s way too expensive but comes in a cute pink cup with a round bottom and three different color gradients. You sip happily at your treat in his car, simultaneously giddy from the familiar weight of the hunter’s watch on your wrist and the realization that the place where your boys are is home now. Forever.

You hook arms with Xavier to take the elevator up from the garage to the main house and he’s looking at you with this funny kind of playfulness. Like he’s in on a joke that hasn’t been told yet.

The elevator dings and the doors open, and you hear the hushed voices arguing.

“Don’t touch that. You’ll set it off prematurely.” Zayne’s voice hisses under his breath.

“I just want to make sure it works! Geez…” Rafayel’s replies with signature sass.

You turn towards the living room and see a large banner strung up across the windows, a multicolored ‘Congratulations!’ written on a confetti background.

Rafayel and Zayne stand in the middle of the room. Zayne smiles when he sees you, and Rafayel nearly jumps in utter delight. A party popper in each hand, the minute you step into the room and out of the hall they pull the strings and pop! A sharp burst of confetti explodes towards you, not just from Rafayel and Zayne but from either side of you as well.

You jump and squeak, turning to see the two bird masked hooligans of Sylus’ who snicker all too pleased. They pull out more party poppers and pop them, covering you with more strings of confetti.

“Congrats boss girl!” Luke cheers from your right, and then Kieran pops another, “Good job on the— whatever it was! Hooray!”

“Boys,” Sylus calls from behind Luke, and they flinch a little. Caught being a little more than just helpful. The young masked man turns back to you and offers you a sheepish shrug.

“We’re behaving!” Kieran adds as he throws his arm over his brother’s shoulder, “We can have cake yeah?”

“What’s going on?” You laugh as you pick some confetti out of your hair, “Why all the… confettiing?”

“It's for you, dumbie!” Rafayel scoots around the couch to get to you, “A congrats party!”

“What?” You mumble, looking at the banner, the streamers, and even a sheet cake sitting happily on the kitchen island, “For what?”

“For you, of course.” Sylus adds, walking his fingers up your back and plucking another errant piece of pink confetti from your hair. “For getting your job back. Or for choosing to stay with us. Regardless, the day felt worth celebrating.”

You feel like you're made of cotton candy. Tiny strings of heated sugar spun into cottony webs. So fine and airy that you melt upon the tips of tongues. Strawberry flavored and filled with the memory of sunshine and summer.

What an utter, lovesick fool you are. And how lucky you are to be cradled in the arms of those who love you for it.

“You didn’t know that I’d even get the job back,” You argue as Zayne cuts you a piece of cake with a picture of a Hero from Super Hunters punching a Wanderer on it. He places it onto a little pink paper plate and then shrugs as he hands it to you.

“There was little doubt, love.” He says with certainty.

From the corner of your eye, you see Luke and Kiera waiting patiently at the dining table, buzzing in place as they wait for their cake. Sylus had had to tell them to sit down with as much force as a father to toddlers, and so they sat– albeit impatiently.

You wait till Zayne cuts another piece and then take both plates over to the poor kids. From what Sylus has told you they’re barely eighteen, if that. They’re kids. Kids that work for an international criminal syndicate and arguably more dangerous than even seasoned criminals, but kids.

They thank you in unison for the cake and then you retreat back to the kitchen for your own piece.

It seems that cake and confetti are not all you have to look forward to in this little celebration, because Sylus drops a large aluminum crate at your feet with an obnoxiously large red bow on top.

“What’s this?” You ask.

“Your present, kitten.” Sylus says with a grin that’s too smug. “Open it.”

Setting aside your half-eaten cake, you hop off your barstool to open the large metal monstrosity. You pluck the bow off of it and use the adhesive still on there to plant it onto Sylus’ chest. He chuckles at you, and leaves it there.

You unlatch the crate and you have an inkling of what awaits you inside. Black egg-crate foam meets your eyes first, and then– as you expected– a pair of shiny silver handguns. They’re chrome, with carbon hand grips and red detailing down the barrel. A pair of shiny chrome blades sit next to them, a thigh holster for each one. And lastly, a small pocket handgun that’s baby pink with a kitten on the grip– tiny enough to fit in a clutch handbag.

“There’s more below,” Sylus whispers at you, and you pick up the first layer to reveal more.

A layer of combat gear. An elaborate set of body armor as pretty as it is functional. It’s similar to some of the armor worn by hunters, but this looks custom.

“Wow, this is amazing, Sylus!” You breathe in awe. Looking at him, you can practically see him preening like a peacock at your excitement, “Thank you!”

“Me next!” Rafayel inserts himself in front of Sylus and offers you a small, blue box.

You rise from your crouch and take the softly texture box. Opening it, you’re met with the most delicate, beautiful piece of jewelry you’ve ever seen. An elegant chain with little teardrop gemstones the faintest shade of blue. At the center is an oblong, opalescent centerpiece. It takes you a second to realize what it is. A scale. A large, paper thin scale like something from a massive fish. You can only fathom what kind of ethereal sea creature this must have come from.

“It’s beautiful.” You say, turning to Rafayel with stars in your eyes.

“You have to wear it everyday, okay?” Rafayel insists, grabbing the box from your hand and taking out the necklace. He moves around you fluidly and places it around your neck without request or hesitation.

“This is too nice for everyday!” You argue, “I couldn’t wear this while working!”

“You have to.” Rafayel chirps, “This is scale from Lemuria. It’ll keep you safe.”

You sigh and concede. You’re not entirely sure what Lemuria is, but it sounds fancy, and if it makes the second biggest worry-wort in the house chill, then so be it.

Zayne’s gift is a little snow globe. Well, a glass globe with a sphere of ice inside it. Within the ice is a small pool of water and a shell you recognize from one of the many you found at the beach. It’s a beautiful memento, and he blushes when you gush over it.

Xavier gives you a crystal replica of the solar system to hang up in your room. Each planet is a different precious stone, reflecting the light with sunbursts and rainbows.

Once you’ve had cake and drank some bubbly concoction that Rafayel mixed, you hang up your gift from Xavier above your bed– with a little help of course. You place Rafayel’s necklace safely back in its box, Zayne’s snowglobe goes on your bedside table, and the arsenal from Sylus gets slid into your closet.

Sylus comes to you to kiss you goodnight, mentioning some work over in the N109 zone he has to get done– that he won’t be back until late tomorrow.

Zayne, dressed in pajamas, catches him just before he leaves your doorway. And catches Sylus by the back of the neck to press a kiss to his temple. His signature parting farewell. Sylus chuckles into it, and you feel that familiar fizzy happiness at seeing the two of them so content.

Sylus parts, and Zayne follows you into bed.

Rafayel and Xavier drew the short straw of tidying up the little party, but you’re sure you’ll see them in bed soon enough.

It’s been a long, rollercoaster of a day. And everything is almost back to the way it’s supposed to be. You have Zayne. Xavier. Rafayel. Sylus. You have your job as a Hunter.

Love. Purpose. A future. It lingers on you like an expensive perfume. You stink of happiness.

If only things could stay this way….

A week later, the weather is warming up. You still can’t leave the house without a jacket but gloves and scarves can be left at home. The smell of earth fills the air as the soil gradually thaws, and the energy of the city shifts from its sleepy, winter hibernation to its maiden-pink excitement of spring.

You’re back at work. Fighting wanderers but this time Xavier is at your side. It’s distracting at first, watching him fight. He’s as graceful as a ballerina on the field. His precision with the blade is masterful, and you’re caught starry eyed a few times on that first day.

He pushes you harder now in training. You attend simulations at the Association to get better fighting side by side without the danger, and you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the feeling of resonating with Xavier’s Light Evol. It explodes like a supernova beneath your skin– utter destructive power with the potential to create universes and decay time itself.

The household chores are divided. A little schedule and a checklist that the five of you divvy up. Zayne doesn’t mind doing dishes, so that’s his preferred chore. Xavier likes to cook, but can’t so he does mostly dusting and tidying. You’re pretty sure Sylus has someone sneaky coming in at night to do his chores, and so long as he’s not making the twins do it– you’re fine with that.

You should have known it was too good. Nothing gold can stay, and all that poetic nonsense. Something about the other shoe dropping or the calm before the storm. The glassy top of your pool of happiness ripples.

A phone call.

Your old phone has been off since your accident on the roof. Better to let it die, you thought. The stalker could just be an unfinished chapter– not knowing was better than chasing.

It was one of the very rare early mornings that you were alone in your bed. The echoes of your lovers were there, indents in the bed and the sheets from where’d they’d been.

Zayne had risen for work at nearly three– an early shift that the rest of you dreaded. Sylus had business that night and was likely not even home yet. Xavier had been put on night patrols this week. His light evol and experience specifically requested by some stuffy higher-up he couldn’t say no too. And Rafayel was likely passed out in his studio, trying to finish his latest painting for an art exhibition coming up.

Alone in your big bed, the last to rise and it's a nagging buzzing in your drawer that pulls you from sleep.

Half-asleep, you yank the drawer open and pull out the phone. You’re struck with irritation more than confusion, but when your eyes finally adjust to the bright screen, your stomach drops.

You’re suddenly sitting upright. Covers pushed away from you as your hand begins to shake. An unknown number. A plain white-blue screen, and the rhythmic humming of the ring over and over again.

Answer it. You’re feeble, reckless mind cries. Answer it quick!

When you press the phone to your ear and answer the call, you’re met with silence. Barely even static meets your ears. Your hands tremble, but you force yourself to hold together. “Hello?”

Music meets your ears. Discordant and garbled like it's being played through a speaker, and then put through the phone. The sound of wind cuts through the melody before you can hear it again, and dread slinks down your spine, coaxing every hair on your body to stand on end.

It’s more than creepy. It’s haunting. Is this some kind of threat? Or a message?

You keep listening, Holding your breath so you can hear the receiver over the sound of your own rattled breathing.

The melody shifts, and you can hear rustling of something and then something that sounds like— children? Playing?

It’s barely 60 seconds. A mess of sounds and then click. Nothing.

You pull the phone away to check, making sure the call was disconnected. With quickened breathing, you go to the home screen of the phone. Checking for anything else– a text. A voicemail. An email? Nothing.

You throw the phone back into the drawer and close it. Rising out of bed, you’re out of your room in record time. This time you won’t be foolish and end up with a punctured lung. You rush down the hall and into the spacious studio. The light of dawn casting everything in a grey-blue haze.

“Rafayel!” You call, unable to find him for a moment. But a jolt of movement catches your eye, and you go to him.

You’re not sure why it’s rattled you like this. Why this time it’s made the scar on your ribs ache or your gut tight, but Rafayel is barely sitting up from his place on the couch before you fall into him.

Chests pressed together, you hold him close and he wraps his arms around you without question. He hums like a satisfied cat, pleased that you’ve come to him, and he seems keen to go right back to sleep.

But you squeeze him tighter, and hide your face away in his neck. Only when your inhale sharply does his mind rouse from sleep enough to realize something is wrong, and he holds you all the tighter.

“What happened?”

“This has gone on long enough.” Sylus states with murder is his voice when you finish explaining the events of the morning to him.

It’s midday when you’re able to gather everyone together. The living room feels cold, but you’re sure that’s your own anxiety making you break out in a cold sweat. You’ve had your hunter weapon on one side of your hip all day, and Rafayel at the other.

“Believe me, I’m way ahead of you.” Scoffing, you continue your pace back and forth next to the windows. Zayne and Xavier are sitting on the couch, but they're at the edges of their seats now.

Sylus had dragged his tired feet through the door at five am, less than an hour after the phone call. And you grabbed him the second he was inside, and when you explained that had happened, you watched as his previous exhaustion melted away– replaced by a cold, deadly determination.

Xavier had gotten home around six, and he’d run into Zayne on his way in– much to the blond’s surprise. But a quick call to Zayne had brought him rushing home, the tremor in your voice more than enough to reassign some surgeries and take the afternoon off.

“I’m serious, kitten.” Sylus practically growls as he rests his hands on the back of the couch. The matching bracelet the five of you wear shines on his wrist. “It is one thing to have your life at risk from Wanderers. This stalker will not be tolerated.”

You let out a strangled breath and run your hand through your hair the umpteenth time today. “The call was nonsense. Some music and some sounds. No words. Not even heavy breathing.”

“There must be some reasoning behind it.” Zayne rises to his feet as he speaks, “Do we think the motivation is simply to terrorize? Or is harm the ultimate goal?”

“Terror has been achieved. Harm has been achieved– which was my fault, but still.” You bark out, and then laugh uncomfortably, “The crazy thing is I think I recognize the music.”

“You do?” Xavier asks.

Rafayel quietly comes up to your side, and with a hand at your waist, he halts your pacing. Being anchored in place you take a deep breath, surprised by Rafayel’s silent support.

“Do you remember that park near where we lived as kids, Zayne?” You say a bit more evenly.

“There were a few…”

“There was one. One that took longer to walk to.” Your voice goes a little quieter as you pull the memories from deep within your mind. “There was this carousel. Antique. It cost a coin to ride it and we would– we would go there during the summer a lot.”

“Ah, yes,” Zayne concurs, “Adams Park. You’re right. That one was farther out than the others, but I remember the carousel. Last I recall, it’s out of commission now.”

“The music…” You sigh, “I know it's crazy but– but it reminded me of that. There was wind, and the sound of kids playing. I think….I think it was telling me to go to this park.”

“Absolutely not.” Rafayel hisses, “Even if that were the case, why play into their plan? No. No.”

“I can send Luke or Kieran to scope it out.” Sylus says as he’s already tapping away at his phone.

“No!” You shout, “No, don’t involve them. If this is dangerous, then I’m more than capable of handling it. I’m telling you guys because the last time I did something stupid I got a broken rib.”

“You’re not thinking of going?” Xavier’s dulcet voice is serrated.

“I am.” You say, though you’ve only barely convinced yourself of the fact. “Either it’s a nonsense noise meant to scare me, or it's a way to find this guy once and for all. End this.”

“Kitten…” The pet name is purred, but it’s dripping with so much disappointment that it sounds like a threat. Sylus looms like a shadow, reckoning with the apocalypse. “I would highly suggest you don’t do that.”

You adjust the gun at your hip and do not cower under Sylus’ ire. “Then come with me. I’m not planning on doing this alone, not again. Come with me. If it’s a setup, then I have backup. And if it’s nothing, I’ll buy ice cream.”

The park is smaller than you remember it, and the trees are just starting to bud. The scent of fresh rain fills the windy air, brushing against you as you exit the car with the four of your lover’s right behind you.

Sylus comes up to you once again, adjusting the strap of the body armor across your chest. As if touching it settles some anxious worm in his heart. He has to make sure its real– that it's secure. You’re armed like you’re going into battle, and so are they. The necklace at your throat feels cold, the scale shifting so lightly against your clavicle as if to remind you of it’s presence.

Your group must look quite the sight, walking into the park and along the winding path that leads across it. The carousel sits as the centerpiece of it. Its once colorful brocade faded with age and wear, and it sits completely still and quiet.

It’s been a long time since you’ve seen it last, and you’d all but forgotten those days of summer scouring couch cushions for coins to ride it. Over and over and over again, choosing a different horse each time to make sure the ride was the same.

There’s a temporary fence surrounding the poor ride, and some tape warding off troublesome teenagers that might think it’s fun to climb on it.

“There’s no protocurve fluctuations that I can detect,” Xavier remarks while examining his new Hunter’s Watch.

“I doubt we’re dealing with Wanderers.” Sylus rumbles, hands at his hips and he slowly scans the surroundings. Casually like he isn’t slightly dewy with anxiety. “Unless you’ve got a creep detector on that thing, it’s not of any use.”

You huff in amusement at his comment and go over to Zayne, who is standing stiffly looking at the carousel. “Do you remember it?”

“Faintly,” Zayne replies. “I didn’t come here often.”

“I remember one time we did.” You say, looking towards a pair of horses side by side, one set higher than the other and frozen in time. “It was when we were a little old. Ten maybe? You didn’t want to ride it, and so I rode it alone. I think that– I think that was the last time I ever did.”

Zayne turns to look at you and there’s guilt in his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

You laugh, “Why? You were a teenage boy at that time. You couldn’t be seen riding some childish carousel with some girl.”

“I should have,” Zayne says softly, “Even if I looked silly. I should have ridden with you. One more time.”

You open your mouth to reply– to ease that forlorn melancholy in his voice because it hurts you just as much to hear it as it does for him to feel it. However, Rafayel’s voice cuts like a blade, “There’s someone here.”

The five of you turn in unison, the path towards the other side of the park from the way you came is occupied by a figure. A person clad in a light grey hoodie, and walking with their hands in the pocket. Their hair rustles wildly with a sharp gust of wind, and it shifts with shades of ash mauve, taupe and russet.

His pale skin is ghostly, and the dark circles under his eyes don’t disappear no matter how much you try to imagine them away.

Gripping Zayne’s hand so tightly, you’re sure that it hurts, but your muscles have locked. Death itself has come to stand before you, clad in the face of one you once loved. Wrenching from you a horrid, desperate gasp that won’t leave you. Air is stuck in your lungs, and breath won’t come.

Fifteen feet away. You measure the distance with your eyes, and dammit, why does your vision keep going blurry? What’s happening? The man is fifteen feet away, and you can cross that distance in less than ten seconds. Faster even. You’re fast. He always said so.

A step is taken, but you’re not sure if it’s you. Not until you step again. The sound of your footsteps so loud in your tunneled mind that it might as well be thunder.

Your hand slips from Zayne’s because you’re moving. Drawn from those who wish to hold you to that which you have lost. Back to that void in the cosmos where there lies only one singular star.

“Caleb,” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, but it is. It’s you weeping the name like a keen wail. Like if you say it aloud it will keep the spectre of his spirit here in this mortal world, and that he won’t slip away the moment you reach for him.

Through the grey of his pallor and the tired look on his face, Caleb smiles. And when you reach out to him, he’s solid beneath your fingers. The cotton of his sweatshirt meets your skin and it's real. It’s tactile. This horrid hallucination.

The two of you collide harshly. Crashing into one another like colliding atoms in a supercollider, nothing but immeasurable quantum energy. You fit back in his arms like you’ve never left and underneath the scent of sterile soap and ash it’s him.

Caleb’s arms are tight around you, hiding you into his chest like you’re the one that might slip away, and you sob brokenly.

“Caleb…” You wail. Wail like begging for rest, “Caleb…”

You feel his lips against the crown of your head, and the heat of his breath as he exhales heavily through his nose. “Pipsqueak. Oh god…it’s me. It’s me. I’m here.”

<- Previous Next ->

#love and deepspace #lads #lads x reader #lads sylus #lads rafayel #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads caleb #caleb x reader #poly lads

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pseudonymphomania · 1 day ago

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Your Top 5 Dialuci :3c

I'll start off by telling you how difficult this ask was. Do you know how many DiaLuci I have? That kitty cat face of yours taunts me.

One

BY YOUR SIDE

This is the February 2025 remastered version from the original September 2023. It was featured on the Obey Me Wiki for the month of February this year! It depicts Diavolo supporting a drunk Lucifer even as he is drunk himself. This is a more platonic flavor compared to the rest of my works, but I let them do the forbidden handholding this time around and kept Lucifer's sensuality. This is my favourite piece because their relationship can really be anything, but it doesn't change how important they are to each other.

Two

MY MORNINGSTAR

Original “The first time I met you, you were simply so divine, so awe-inspiring that you took my breath away. I couldn’t believe such a beautiful, magnificent angel actually existed.” - Diavolo (OG 7-10) I think depicting Diavolo as diminutive is a rare occurrence in this fandom, especially as the other half of the DiaLuci ship (really any Dia ship. He's been assigned biggest daddy dom in the om fandom lol). That's why I felt it was important to hammer home how much bigger Lucifer is metaphorically when you factor in Diavolo's regard. Diavolo, who wants to be seen as Lucifer's equal, who wants to live a normal life, who is lonely and just as overworked. The man wants so bad to be little spoon and it is my honor to give him what he truly wants.

Three

STATUES IN THE RAIN

Original It was as if we were both statues in a long forgotten garden, with the ruinous foliage growing through our stone skin watered and washed clean by the rain. I will forever stare at your masterwork lips and be jealous of the errant drops that lie between, wondering when I'd be able to move and embrace you again. (My DiaLuci poetry) I drew this for White Day 2024. I let them embrace, I let them get rained on, I let them be everything for each other as they held on until even their shirts could not separate them. I wrote them poetry that described a yearning that would never exist between them again.

Four

IL VA PLEUVOIR

Original It’s impossible to look for patterns in clouds when my eyes are full of water, but when the rain passes I can see myself reflected in the beautiful sun. (More of my DiaLuci poetry) this is an old piece but I remember how hard I worked on it. I wanted them to be soft and hold onto each other as the kingdom bustles outside.

Five

MY MOONFLOWER

Original Through your kiss, I can feel devotion coming to rain on the barren fields inside me. You toil endlessly so that what’s left of my heart can take root, but you never answer when I ask why you must grow things in such desolate places. (More of my DiaLuci poetry) This is one of my oldest pieces that still hold up to this day. Back then I had a more japanese paper style where everything is flattened onto hand drawn patterns. It was one of the first art that I wrote poetry for and that makes this is a very important piece to me.

Afterword

I love the concept of Them very much. They are my reason for being [in this fandom]. I love them as much now as when I first knew of them and I will love them forevermore.

#yuki's top five #dialuci #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me dialuci #diavolo x lucifer #my asks #my safe art #lucidia #lucifer x diavolo #obey me fanart

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forestclan-clangen · 21 hours ago

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For the ask game, ✍️, 🔄 and❔?

✍️ What inspired you to make your clangen comic/ other media?

I was inspired mostly by cool Clangen blogs like @rippleclan and @mourningsbane, and I REALLY wanted to get back into writing after not writing at all for many years. I was out of practice and thought, hey, Clangen could be cool inspiration. THEN it was around Halloween season, so I wondered if there were any horror mods. And there was! The Woods. And THEN...the tagline was "Feed The Woods". And then I realized. "Wait. Isn't that something said in Gemini Home Entertainment once. Oh. Ohhoho wait, wait, IDEA. BIG IDEA. CATS IN MOONLIGHT ACRES. Nobody's done THAT before I think. Yep, tossing Woodcrawlers at the cats". And then I did it.

🔄Do you let clangen fully control names, or do you interfere? Where do you get inspiration for names for warriors and kittypets?

Mostly I let Clangen do its thing! If I find a name is REALLY silly or out of place I'll change the suffix, but typically I leave prefixes alone, except for in like, two circumstances. Same thing for the loners/kittypets! I let them keep their names unless it's something REALLY goofy, like First Generation iPod.

❔Do you have any suggestions for people looking to start their own clangen blogs?

Oh man look I could go on and on for hours on this, but look, at the end of the day, three core things I can recommend:

Be mindful of your energy spoons and commit to how much effort you're willing to spend. I am NOT a good visual artist. A comic would kill me immediately because it's a LOT of hard work for me. That's why when I saw RippleClan's style of spritework, I had an epiphany: that was REALLY doable and a lot simpler. Guys, PLEASE do more stuff with sprites if you struggle with art. RippleClan and I have proven that you can do it!

Do not follow ClanGen's prompts 100% of the time, and for the love of god, don't be afraid to reset moons. Look, I know that's controversial, but sometimes it's okay to dig for a good story. Also, connect new outsider cats to Clan cats, and to one another sometimes. Riversnow and Barleywave in-game had zero correlation to each other. I MADE them be related to each other, because there WAS a missing gap: who was Warblerkit's mom? Is she okay out in these woods? Good question! That mom is now Riversnow, I'm now making it my job as the storyteller to see how they bond, if at all. My first outside, Lucifer, had long grey fur and was old enough to be Windfur's dad...so I made him Windfur's dad. Make things up!

You are writing/drawing fanfiction about battle cats please BE CRINGE. Please DO shove your special interests into your battle cats fanfic. Like, I literally said "haha what if I tossed cats into a pre-existing analog horror series". And then I did. NONE of the monsters in this blog are unique, they're all created by someone else. I was also inspired by Darkest Dungeon, a video game, and the lore about the "gentle camp ringed in spears"? Destiny 2. YEAH, I KNOW. I will keep fuckin doing it because it's a guilty pleasure and I have fun. I'm not making money out of this, so like...why not, right?

#forestclan #forestclan ask #writing advice #clangen #warrior cats

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runawaydr3amerao3 · 1 day ago

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20 Fanfic Author Questions ✍️🤔

Friend has given Dreamer a tag! Friend loves Dreamer! 🥹 Thanks, @sixtysevenautomatic. 🥰

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･.ೃ࿐

1. How many works on AO3?

24 👏

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

604,954 🥳

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos?

(These are all Supernatural, Wincest, and Explicit, by the way.)

Tell Him That His Lonesome Nights Are Over (426), Part 1 in Sandman 'verse

And then the entire West series, just out of order. Lol.

Part 4: Unless I Can't Resist (315) Part 3: When I'm Bad (260) Part 1: Run It All Over (259) Part 2: The One I Never Tried (229)

4. What fandoms do you write for?

Only SPN and SPN Real Person Fic these days. There was a drabble in LotR RPF way back in the day, and a fic or three in the Fandom-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, but that was over 20 years ago. SPN and J2 have had my heart for most of the time since.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I always, always do my best to reply to comments because I am so grateful for them, but I readily admit I drop the ball sometimes (a lot of the time). My heart skips a beat every time one appears in my inbox, though, and they're devoured with the joy of a teenage girl receiving a love note from her first crush.

Unfortunately, my mental health and other brain things get in the way sometimes, so it can take me a long time to reply, which I feel like absolute trash about. But I do my best to put the shame aside and reply eventually. Those who have responded to my apologies have always been very understanding, which I'm thankful for.

6. Angstiest Ending?

I'm straight-up allergic to unhappy endings, fam, so you're unlikely to come across one in my writing. I mean, there are a couple of parts in the Preset 'verse (Wincest/J2 crossover, Explicit) that have unhappy endings, but I was posting that as a WIP, so there was some angst before it got resolved. It's still not technically finished, but it wasn't left in a bad place.

The only other one could be The More Things Change (J2, Explicit), which definitely has an element of bittersweetness to the ending. It's sweet overall, but it's there.

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending?

I'm not sure I can actually answer this one, since most of my fics have happy endings. 🤔 Shout-out to my latest fic, Drag Out From Your Mouth (unrelated-Wincest but not a full SPN AU, Explicit)? 😂

8. Do you get hate?

The only "hate" I can remember was when I posted the first part of Sandman. The very first comment was from some anti-bottom!Dean dumpster fire complaining that I'd written another bottom!Dean fic when there was already so much of it available. My eyes nearly rolled out of my head at the entitlement.

Oh, and I guess I got a couple of general anti-Wincest comments on a post in my fic rec side blog @imthedr3amer recently? That sort of thing is just very ignorable (once I've had a rant to someone about how dumb it is, anyway).

9. Do you write smut?

I probably write more smut than I do actual plot.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yesss. Only one kind so far, though, and that's what I mentioned above with the SPN/RPF crossover, the Preset 'verse. There needs to be so much more fic about Sam and/or Dean meeting Jared and/or Jensen. Please. We are so hungry. 🥺

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of. If anyone ever sees that shit, hit me up.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of. Someone did ask once, but I declined because I'm a control freak and I'm not sure how I feel about not being able to do quality assurance on something like that. Language is a delicate and nuanced thing, and I guess I worry something wouldn't cross the language barrier properly? I've heard stories. But also, not being able to field comments and questions from readers doesn't sit right with me either. I don't know. I don't know!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Not exactly, although I did have the pleasure of writing Certain Souls (Wincest, Explicit) which is, with permission, a fic set in a 'verse created by my bestie, @sam-is-my-safe-word! 🥰 They alpha read all of my writing these days and vice versa, so they were very involved anyway, but I sought even more input than usual on what they thought Sam and Dean would do here or there, or if they had a preference for this or that action/dynamic/etc.

I think it's likely that we'll properly co-author something in the future. We have very complimentary interests (and kinks) and we make each other worse riff off each other's ideas really well.

14. All time favourite ship?

WINCEST SUPREMACY

[Answer unchanged from previous tagger. ✊]

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I would really love to continue the Preset 'verse. I was about 30k into the next part when my computer died like eight years ago or something? It wasn't the hard drive, I don't think, so in theory I could resurrect and continue, but I have other WIPs higher on the priority list these days. Given the pace I write at, it's hard to say if that will ever happen.

16. Writing Strengths?

Uhh, smut, maybe? Lol.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

Oh-ho, now you're talking. The inability to cull unnecessary scenes is a big one for me. I write very self-indulgently. I write fanfiction because there's stuff that we didn't and would never get in canon, so just because it's not necessary for the story doesn't mean I don't want to see it in its full, overly-descriptive glory. And if I want to see it, maybe others do too, even if it doesn't deepen our understanding of the character or move the plot forwards. 🤷‍♀️

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

It's not something I've ever done in my fics (that I recall...), but as a reader, I find it frustrating when there's a language other than English and the other characters in the scene understand it but I'm given no way to know except by maybe skipping to the end notes for a glossary. If the other characters in the scene, or the POV character, don't understand either, it's reasonable that I wouldn't, so a glossary at the end is fine and good. If there's no translation mid-fic or at the end, regardless of anyone's understanding, that's extra frustrating. We are curious creatures, people!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ah, yes, that would be the Fandom-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named. 🖕 🏳️‍⚧️✊ I was 12/13 and I wrote it in an exercise book that I hid under my mattress, where no one would ever think to look. I still have it. I really need to get rid of it in case I die and my family has to go through my shit.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I'm really proud of the Sandman 'verse. Most of that poured out of me after over 10 years of not having posted anything in the fandom, just reappearance of the muse out of nowhere (although the inspiration that kick-started it certainly wasn't—eternal shout-out rights to @spnyuri. 🥰).

The last fic in the 'verse, Crumbling In Your Hand, Part III: You Conquered Me (Wincest, Explicit) is one I'm very proud of. I really enjoy writing things like text message exchanges and video calls, other digital communication methods, etc., plus, I mean, reunion sex where someone gets bent over the Impala? I can only lead you to the water, my friends. 😂

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･.ೃ࿐

Tagging, as always, with maximum encouragement but minimum pressure: @sam-is-my-safe-word @talltalesandbedtimestories @bigmouthlass @thoughtslikeaminefield @xpurdyglambertx 💖

@chiquititasnewsong @felisblanco @goshen-applecrumbledore @compo67 @zmediaoutlet 💖

#tag game #writing is hard #writing #fanfic #archive of our own #writers on tumblr #fanfic writing #fanfiction writer #writer #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #supernatural fanfiction #spn rpf #supernatural smut #wincest #j2 #samdean #jaredjensen #my fics

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songsofadelaide · 1 day ago

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Asleep Among Endives

Epilogue

[A Gojo Satoru x Reader fic, completed]

tags and content warnings: Gojo Satoru x (f) jujutsu sorcerer (rct user) reader, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates, original characters, manga spoilers, canonical character deaths, family drama, futurefic. wc: 3.5k

⚜ This fic will not use 'yn' and instead follow my usual naming convention. Please kindly see yourself out if you're uncomfortable with fics using placeholder names for the reader. I do not use 'yn' in any of my fics. I still use 'you'/second-person pronouns and write with a generic (f) reader in mind. I use "Otome" as a placeholder as it means maiden, or Maiden-chan, which pretty much translates to 'yn'.

✾ Fic Masterlist ✾ Chapter 1 — Twilight ✾ Chapter 2 — The Sun ✾ Chapter 3 — Ordinary Days ✾ ~Interlude~ — In the Quiet ✾ Chapter 4 — Side by Side

— Golden Dawn.

~ Kuantan, Malaysia, six years after the death of Gojo Satoru and the defeat of the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna.

So long as Koganei Masahito's blood flows in a child's veins, there will always be a chance that they will inherit the gift, or so the stories of the clan elders go. Chiemi knew now for sure that there was truth to that statement

She opted to uproot her life in the Koganei Estate, the only life she has ever known, in favour of following her deceased husband's flight of fancy.

Nanami never intended to get married while he was still a sorcerer, yet his encounter with Chiemi subverted his detailed retirement plan. They were only married for three years when he perished in the Shibuya Incident— no body recovered to exorcise or pray over, either. When Yuuji recounted his mentor's final moments to Chiemi in tears, she asked him to say no more, for Nanami wouldn't have wanted the kid to relive that undoubtedly horrific incident, much like how he didn't want to curse him before he perished.

As she promised her older sister before her initial departure to Malaysia, Chiemi would return home to the Koganei Estate every year with her child in tow. Such was this occasion, and she could hardly suppress her dismay at the discovery she had made earlier this year.

"Mama?" Said the bright-eyed child as she clenched her mother's hand. Chiemi turned to her daughter, who was staring at the corner of their living room with furrowed brows.

"Yes, Kaho?"

"What's that thing over there?" Kaho, her six-year-old daughter who looked everything like her except for her green eyes, pointed at the harmless but shadowy curse that stalked their living room.

~ Tokyo Haneda Airport.

"Chi-san! I'm here!"

"Takkun!"

Chiemi was welcomed home to Japan by Ino, now a First Grade Sorcerer working under the rehabilitated Jujutsu Headquarters. He waved at the older woman with an ecstatic smile on his face, but he was quick to bend down on his knee to receive the sprinting girl who appeared from behind her mother's skirt.

"Taku-chan!" Kaho exclaimed, her arms instantly coiling around the older man's neck as he lifted her from the floor.

"Hello, ojou-san!" Ino greeted the golden-haired little girl. Her mother's displeasure at her behavior was evident from the way she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Kaho! Don't give Takkun a hard time. You're too old to be carried!"

"Oh, I don't mind at all, Chi-san!" He said with a laugh. "But is it just me, or are you getting taller, ojou-san? Must be your old man's genes!"

Kaho happily hummed as she was effortlessly carried by the older sorcerer, a curious look on his face as he turned to the older woman pulling her suitcase next to him. "Is Metherlence-san not with you today?"

"Daddy's busy with his business! Neither of us thought that his noodle shop would be a big hit in Pahang," Chiemi laughed at the thought of her father running his shop without her around to help. "He said he'd be fine, but I did tell him to take a break if things become too much for him to handle."

"I see. Well, it's good to know that you and Metherlence-san are doing well in Malaysia," Ino stated as he opened his car's compartment to load their luggage with a single hand. "And have you been well, Chi-san?"

"Come now, Kaho, Takkun needs to drive us home," Chiemi said, reaching for her daughter from Ino's arms. "I have something to tell you, Takkun, but I'd rather not talk about it in front of Kaho… I'd also like onee-sama to hear about it."

"I'd be glad to hear you out, Chi-san."

He could tell from the tired expression on the older woman's face that something deeply troubled her. Nanami-san would know what to do. She is his wife, after all. And all he could do now was simply listen. When Kaho had fallen asleep on their drive to the Koganei Estate, Chiemi brushed away the golden curls that fell over her daughter's face. It nearly brought a smile to her lips until she remembered what she wanted to tell the younger sorcerer accompanying them home.

"Takkun, Kaho's starting to see… things…"

Ino glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the dire look on the older woman's face. "You mean her spirit sight has manifested?"

"I'm worried… What if they make her—" Chiemi covered her mouth, holding back tears as she shook her head. "I won't allow it."

He understood now what she was so anxious about. Kaho's lineage made her a perfect candidate as a sorcerer of the new generation. While she had yet to manifest a cursed technique, her being able to see curses now meant she had an aptitude for exorcising them— eventually. But Chiemi didn't seem to understand how the new regime worked. It'd be better for her to hear from Koganei-san herself.

"You don't have to worry about a thing, Chi-san," he stated reassuringly. "That's not how things work anymore here."

Kaho bounced out of the car in sheer excitement as they arrived at the Koganei Estate, the trio warmly welcomed by an entourage of servants in similar muted yukatas. Among those who stood waiting in the genkan was the leader of the esteemed house and her older brother, their matching golden haori a welcome sight to Chiemi.

"Oba-chan! Kazu oji-chan!" The little girl leapt into your arms, only for her to be caught by Kazuya, her mirthful laughter echoing in the entrance hall of the traditional house.

"Welcome home, Kaho-chan!"

"Must I really be oba-chan?" You said with a sigh of defeat before turning to your younger sister with a smile. "Welcome home, Chi-chan."

Home. What a word. A little cynical smile played on her lips as she approached your figure. All this time I've spent running away, only for me to start crying because I'm home. A place where I don't have to pretend to be someone else, or fit into some mold—

Kaho's laughter faded in her ears as Kazuya carried his niece inside, Ino closely following them with their luggage in tow.

More importantly, this place is Kaho's home… just as much as it is mine.

"Shall we greet Kento and otou-sama together?" You asked her with an outstretched hand, sensing her hesitation. Chiemi blinked away her tears and greeted you back with the same warm smile you bestowed upon her.

"Yes, let's," she said as she grabbed you, allowing herself to be pulled into your home. Her home. "I'm home, onee-chan!"

The estate garden has always been a source of enjoyment for Kaho. She always asked her mother about the ginkgo tree and how it never seemed to change even as the years passed. Now back at her ancestral home, she, her cousin, and their uncle danced under the shade of the tree, the golden foliage raining over them

You and Chiemi sat on the redwood engawa facing your estate's magnificent gardens, your servants having brought warm cups of tea and slices of fruit for you to share.

"Kaho can see curses now," the blonde spoke out of the blue, surprising you as you bit through the fruit in your hand. "I want you to know that I don't intend for her to become a jujutsu sorcerer."

"Chi-chan, am I so callous to you that you think I'd force Kaho to become someone she doesn't want to be? I'd be spitting on your husband's memory if that were to ever happen," you replied to her with a furrowed brow, placing the fruit down on your saucer. "She doesn't have to be a sorcerer if she doesn't want to, but if she does…"

"I don't think I can take it… If she wants to be one…"

"You don't have to worry about that now," you said, grasping your sister's hand with your sticky fingers. "Things have changed. They aren't as draconian as they were. Kaho has all the time in the world to be who she wants to be. And… now that you mentioned that, I think it's about time I gave her this."

You pulled out a long lacquered wooden box from the pocket of your hakama, and upon Chiemi's closer inspection, she easily recognized your gift— a delicate glass-blown kanzashi adorned with intricate azure blue beads and gold trimmings.

"But this is papa's gift to you…"

"I know, but the greatest gift otou-sama has given us is Kazuya's second life," you said, a smile gracing your face as you watched your older brother throw the children in the air, their melodious laughter ringing throughout the gardens and halls. "I want Kaho to always have a piece of her forebears with her. An anchor that leads her home whenever she feels lost… You'll allow me this much, won't you, Chi-chan?"

"If this is the world that Satoru-kun envisioned, then I suppose I don't mind…"

— Silver Eve.

~ 2035.

As the years passed and seasons changed, you became known by many names. Titles you never asked for, never claimed as yours, yet others pinned to your person. Your family hailed you as unparalleled— there was no one else like you. The strongest vessel of Suzaku. The greatest leader of the Koganei Clan to have existed— yes, even greater than the founder himself— you, who changed the landscape of your family and the jujutsu society, to an extent, by encouraging the future generations to pursue their dreams for themselves before anything else. To chase their exponential growth for their own pleasure before turning their eyes to the scourge of curses that plagued the world.

—The widow of the last known Six Eyes user. The wife of Gojo Satoru. The mother of Gojo Seiya, who preferred to go by your surname instead— Koganei. Koganei Seiya.

Nine months in your womb and your son came out as an exact carbon copy of his father— so pink and full of life, silvery hair, feather-white lashes and all. You nearly snatched the baby from the midwife as soon as he was offered to you.

"Oh," came the soft sigh of relief as you gently rubbed your cheek against the damp, thin tuft of white hair on your son's head, your exhaustion quickly replaced by adrenaline and complete adoration. "So beautiful… Just look at how beautiful my son is. My sweetest little Seiya…"

When he opened his silvery lashes for the very first time, you saw your own eyes reflected right back in his. Seiya was made up of something of you and something of Satoru equally. Or at least you tried to convince yourself. Each day as he grew, he looked more and more like his father, whom he only knew from stories and photographs.

Satoru was both myth and truth. An immovable obelisk. A phantom of the past that still haunts present sorcerers. There was no one else like him, after all, not in the past and not in the future, either. So when Seiya was born with the same shocking silver hair, some had their hopes up that he would be just like his father— a little godling reborn.

They say Satoru was a menace, and that he would have loved messing with his son the most. When his mentors shared pictures, it was like he was looking at a mirror— but it doesn't change the fact that he did not know this man at all.

Whatever Seiya lacked from his father's spirit, he made up for by emulating your example instead— the living was easier to follow, after all.

How are you both calculating and warm at the same time?

Seiya knew deep down that you grieved the loss of your sky every single day— and that it hurt you to look at him at times. He knew that whenever you spoke to him, it was like you were talking to two people at the same time— and even though attempts were made to woo your lonely heart, you remained entirely loyal to that man.

You never loved again. Never married again, even for political gain. You never turned your attention towards ambitious suitors and never bothered to give anyone the time of day.

What you and Gojo Satoru had was a once-in-a-lifetime, one-in-a-million kind of thing. An unstoppable gravitational force drew the two of you together, and your relationship withstood every challenge thrown at you, even death. The sun was always meant to be in the sky, so you were always destined to find him, no matter where he went, regardless of whether you cannot follow him just yet.

At the age of 45, you perished after getting caught in the crossfire of a gangland war between two opposing powers, one who believed in the sanctity of traditional jujutsu and the other who believed in the will of Gojo Satoru, who, for the longest time, advocated for the liberation of talented young sorcerers from the chokehold of the elders of jujutsu society.

Many heralded your death as a martyrdom. Others simply considered you a casualty. But Seiya, who was the light of your world ever since he was born, grieved the loss of his mother, the only parent he had ever known.

Upon your death, Seiya was exalted to a throne he still felt was too big to sit on, and his glaring lack of experience was a sure way for him to be dismissed. He was only sixteen and would want nothing more than to just fade into obscurity, yet…

Yet he knew he was the child of the old gods, making him a little god in his own right— he bore his mother's name and wrath and a fraction of his father's power, after all. Now he sought to carry on his father's will as well, knowing well enough— even though he knew him not— that Gojo Satoru would want nothing more than that.

And even though they did not know each other, it was Seiya's future that Satoru fought for.

— Asleep Among Endives.

A tender afternoon breeze swept past your face as you peacefully slumbered under the shade of an aged ginkgo tree. It felt like you had been sleeping for quite some time now, but you woke up feeling entirely refreshed, even more so now that you took on the form of you that you loved the most.

"Oh! About time you woke up."

And when you opened your eyes, you were greeted by the warmest sight— Satoru in your youth, before the fall and everything else. Like you, he preferred to walk this realm in a form he considered his favourite, from the time he was happiest. When you were happiest.

"Hello, Otome. Good sleep?"

You hurriedly rose from your sleepy state and rubbed your eyes in disbelief before eventually raising your hands to tenderly hold his face. "S-Satoru! I— Oh, it is you."

"Well, aren't you just the cutest?" He replied with a warm smile, the same one burned in the back of your mind for as long as you were alive. He cupped your face right back, as though confirming to himself that you weren't a phantom, either.

You had no words to describe the elation you felt at that very moment, holding your dead husband's face in your hands. Upon closer inspection, you noticed the lack of blue in his pretty eyes still framed with silvery lashes.

"How odd," you stated. "I didn't expect the afterlife to be so colourless."

"That's because the light is still here," he replied with a smile as he took your hand in his. "Here comes the sun."

True enough, the scenery on the hill changed, with the sky and the sea on the horizon slowly being inked a familiar azure, a single golden sun hanging right above you. From the endless sky fell the whitest snow so akin to a dream you once had when you were a child.

"How pretty," you remarked.

"Exactly."

"I have so much I want to tell you," you started. "I never got to tell you about our son."

Satoru's blue eyes widened in shock and amusement. "We… have a kid?"

"We do! Oh, Toru, Seiya is just the sweetest and loveliest child… If you're wondering when exactly, allow me to refresh your memory."

You squeeze his hand and all of a sudden, he is flooded with memories of his final month on earth, the joy you equally felt upon your reunion— and precious glimpses of your child's life milestones— his birth into the world, his first steps, his following birthdays surrounded by his family and mentors, the manifestation of his cursed technique— and his frustration with having to compete with the memory of a monolith he called his father.

Satoru looked at you curiously before chuckling to himself. "That night, huh?"

"I hope he knows how much I love him. Oh… You would have loved him, too."

"Are you kidding? I've never met him, but I sure as hell love him already," he smiled at you.

For the first time ever since his passing, he actually felt sorry for himself. He never planned on leaving you to be a single mother, to raise that boy all on your own, but those memories you shared showed him that you were never alone. Not with his students around.

"He looks just like you, from your hair to the shape of your face and your nose and your mouth."

You could tell from how he looked at you that he was dreaming up the boy in his head— Seiya— one who looked just like him and yet…

"He has my eyes, though," you said with a laugh. "Seiya… will be all right. I know that for sure."

A ripple of emotions washed over his face, one of which was disappointment. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you. To protect our kid…"

"Don't say that, Toru. For what it's worth, I think I died a pretty glorious death. Not really on par with yours if we're talking about the best way to go," it was your turn to chuckle this time. "So many young sorcerers still look up to your example. So many still want to reach the heights you've achieved, all while doing their best to fight the tyranny of those who want to resurrect the ways of old, and those who threaten the peace…"

"How exactly…?"

"Oh, I think I got hit by some kid's cursed technique. I was trying to stop a fight from breaking out. Not exactly the wisest thing to do when you aren't a fighter, but you know I wasn't the kind to take things sitting down," you said with a small laugh.

"What on earth… could be worth getting in between a gang fight for, sweetheart?"

You turned to him with an unclouded gaze that seemed to reflect your very thoughts. "Your ideals, Satoru. Our ideals."

Satoru only saw himself in your eyes, his perplexed reflection slowly melting into a look of satisfaction as he realised the impact he left behind. His influence. His memory. His legacy.

"I know for certain that Seiya will never lose his way. Not with your pupils around," you told him. "Though I suppose it would be inappropriate to still call them your pupils."

You looked up at the sun, wanting to soak in its warmth before eventually declaring to him, "They are the strongest now, after all."

The way his lips cracked into a toothy smile as you affirmed his students' exponential growth filled your heart with happiness worth all those years stolen from you both.

"Kento also has a daughter named Kaho. Chi raised her in Malaysia with her father Prospero-san."

"I can only assume she looks just like the brat," Satoru laughed as he slowly rose from his seat. "Y'know, you may as well talk off Nanami's ear about his little girl. He'll be thrilled to hear all about her."

"You think?" You asked him, taking his hand as he helped you up to your feet.

"They promised you a seat, didn't they?"

As you stood on the edge of the hill, three familiar figures were making their way across the beach, their footsteps trailing behind them on the sandy shore.

"Oi, Otome!" Came Haibara's enthusiastic call, waving at you and Satoru from a distance. He was just as charming as the day he was lost to you in 2007.

Nanami had the same tender, knowing smile on his face, looking as refreshed as ever now that you all took on similar forms.

Suguru stood by the pair as they looked up at you, a contented smile on his face that seemed to say he was absolutely well-rested.

"You must have been bored stiff," you laughed, pulling him closer to you as you tried to find your way down.

"On the contrary, we have all the time in the world to do whatever we want now. And none of those crusty old farts to stop us," Satoru replied as he hoisted you into his arms and poised himself to jump. "We're free."

"H-Hey! Satoru, what— AHH!"

And just like how the shining sun was always embraced by the blue, blue sky, you were right exactly where you should be, where you truly belonged, ever since that fateful day— contentedly and happily in Satoru's arms for the rest of your shared eternity.

✦ Asleep Among Endives Masterlist ✦

#songsofadelaidewrites💛#mari's fic collections 🍀#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader

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thestarlitdreamer · 3 days ago

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jason todd <3

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intro :: some drabbles about jason to get into the groove for a fanfic i have planned ! all events mentioned in this excerpt are canon in the fic btw. will probably make a post introducing it if this does well, and even if it doesn't i'll still do it anyway. lol

tags :: sfw, some cursing, fem! s/o, angst angst angst, young adult mcs, MAJOR slowburn friends to lovers, ?cliffhanger?

word count :: 2.3 k

first time writing abt jason (surprisingly) so hope u enjoy !

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jason had been in love with her for as long as he could remember.

as kids, she was the one who saved him: she had so excitedly introduced herself and asked if he wanted to be friends, she had brought him into her home, into her life, into her family. most importantly, she brought him into her heart. and by god was it radiant. she was the most loving being jason had ever known, with the kindest heart and the biggest brown eyes anyone had ever seen. they were dark like the earth, wide and fluttery like a doe, as warm as a hug. living in the most dangerous city in the country was enough to instill jason with fear, being completely alone and left to fend for himself was enough to give in to despair, and just being himself was enough to make him want to give up. but then he met her, and for the first time in his life jason could finally breathe. for the first time in his life, jason finally felt safe. she made him feel like he had finally come home.

but everything changed the day he died.

from then on, he had ruined the life of his closest friend, his favorite girl in the entire world, forever. and he didn't know how to fix it. a few years passed after his revival. he was nineteen, transitioning into his new persona as the red hood, and finding that it suited him far better than he would have preferred. he knew what she would say if she ever saw him like this: that he was a boy destined for great things, but that more than anything, he was destined to be happy. jason felt he was destined for a lot of things, but happiness was never among them. and he knew the mere admittance of that would break her heart.

six months after his death, jason had been resurrected like lazarus from the dead.

from the moment jason's eyes fluttered back open, his first thoughts were of her. and of just how much his death destroyed her. more than anything, jason wanted to run back to her, and hug her with such a ferocity she had never felt before. but he had already broken her heart once. and he couldn't bear to see her mourn him just to have to bury him again. he couldn't risk doing that to her. he would never be able to live with himself and goddamn it if it wasn't already hard enough. so when he came back, he tried his best to stay away. he didn't look for her. he didn't silently watch her at school, make sure she got home safely. he didn't ever check up on her or even catch a glimpse of her face for three long years. he begged his family to do that work for him. to keep her safe, make sure she was okay. even though they all knew she wouldn't be. he had vowed to never appear in her life again, because he figured it was what was best. that she would be exponentially safer and more stable if she didn't know her best friend had come back from the dead even more battered and damaged than he was before he left. he thought it was what would be best. that he was making sure she'd continue to grow up fairly okay, and move on. but his plans never went the way he intended them to.

jason caught her sitting on the edge of a building at midnight.

at first, he had no idea who she was. just like every night, he was stalking gotham's streets amidst complete darkness, passing by flickering streetlights and stumbling stragglers. his gaze briefly shifted up towards the sky, eyes set on the full moon and how its light basked gotham in an eerie glow. it was then that he noticed the dark figure positioned at the ledge of a building, and he sprang up without hesitation. the voice in his head was screaming at him that they might jump, and he didn't want to entertain the possible outcome if that feeling were true. he scaled the building with a swift quickness, moving in complete silence. as he planted his feet on the roof, he approached carefully. if he moved too suddenly or startled the person on the ledge, they could very possibly just jump out of fear. or just as tragically, fall by complete accident. he was dressed as red hood, as always. but he turned his voice modulator off because the last thing someone in that situation needed was to feel less human. and jason found that a kind voice could do a lot for someone struggling with their own sense of humanity.

"hey," he began softly. "could you step away from the edge, please? we can't risk you getting hurt. no one's meant for that kind of consequence, even if it feels like you deserve it. because i can promise you that you don't. you don't deserve this." jason crouched down on his knees, a few places away from the person on the ledge. they were small, covered by a baggy grey sweatshirt with a hood that shielded their face.

she replied in a whisper. "you don't have to worry about me. i'm not going to jump. and even if i wanted to, i wouldn't. i could never do something like that to my parents. it would destroy them."

hearing her speak made jason's heart shatter. she sounded so defeated, so fragile, almost on the verge of tears. "i really wish your reasoning involved more concern about your own life rather than somebody else's."

she merely shrugged in reply. this whole time, she hadn't looked jason's way once. and he hadn't seen her face either. but something was telling him that he couldn't walk away now, so he sat a little closer, directly at her side. he followed her gaze to the sky and how it illuminated gotham's streets below.

"why are you up here in the first place?" jason finally asked.

"today's my birthday. the big one-nine."

"so why are you here by yourself? shouldn't you be inside, with your family, somewhere safe?"

"i couldn't sleep. so i decided to walk around, and when i got bored of that i found this building, and figured it wouldn't be too difficult to climb up to the roof. so i did. i like watching the city from up here. feels less like i'm a character in my own life story and more like an observer to everyone else's. i think i like it better that way."

jason nodded solemnly, listening to her soft voice in silence. it was then and only then that she decided to turn her face towards his, looking his way for the first time all night. and when she did, jason felt his heart drop. in a matter of seconds, jason's entire body froze, his stomach feeling completely sick. he thought genuinely that he might vomit right then and there. he was eternally grateful that his helmet shielded his panic away from the girl who sat beside him.

because it was her.

"i think i've heard of you before," she said. "red hood. you're some kind of vigilante, i suppose. am i right?"

jason choked out a response. "yeah, i guess you could call me that."

jason couldn't have predicted her next words even if a time-traveler had come and told him themselves. "what else would i call you? jason?"

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. he couldn't do this anymore. he couldn't just pretend and lie to her anymore. he couldn't continue living while the blood in his body boiled to the point of near explosion. he couldn't fucking do this anymore.

jason's words came out sheepishly and far more timidly than he had expected. "what gave it away?"

she stared at him now, those deep brown eyes piercing his own, holding him at gunpoint. he couldn't blink, couldn't dare to pull himself away from her gaze. he had avoided it for three long years. he couldn't avoid it anymore.

"when you first spoke, i thought your voice sounded familiar. i immediately felt calm in the same way i had only ever felt with you. but i had my suspicions before that. for a while now."

"what were they?"

"i noticed sometime around the third-year anniversary of your death that i was the only one still visiting your grave. the only flowers there were ones i had laid at my last visit. and when you first died, dick was the one inviting me to visit you at the cemetery. it would be me, your siblings, and alfred. bruce never visited with the rest of the family, and we all knew it was because mourning you was something he preferred to take on alone. about four months ago, dick stopped inviting me. and there have been a few times where dick or alfred or even bruce would reach out and invite me to the manor, just wanting to see my face again, check in, have coffee or sometimes dinner. i brought up red hood once, and everyone froze. i could tell that there was something i wasn't supposed to know, and that everyone else was doing a horrible job at hiding it. after that, i just started forming my own theories. i never actually figured they might be true until tonight. you still use the same earthy scented body wash as you did when you were fifteen. i could smell it when you came closer, underneath the stench of sweat and blood. i guess some things never change, do they?"

again, with those doe eyes of hers, and those black curls that were disturbed by the breeze and her deep brown skin that always reminded jason of the sun. everything about her felt serene. like she was more of a fairy tale than a girl. and like always, she left him completely speechless.

"will you come to my place with me?" he asked softly, his voice barely heard over the whipping of faraway branches in the autumn breeze. and to his surprise, she nodded.

jason's bike was down below, waiting for them.

she had never been on a motorcycle before, so naturally she was nervous. but jason reassured her that she would be okay, and as always, she trusted him.

when they arrived at jason's apartment, she was fully ready to stay up the rest of the night talking. but jason assured her there would be time for that tomorrow. that now, all she needed to do was sleep.

"i got you some clothes and extra blankets if you need them. my room is clean and ready for you. i'll be in the living room if you need anything, okay?"

she stood in front of him with an expression of confusion plastered on her face. "jason, i'm not going to sleep in your bed. i'm fine with sleeping on the couch. i'm not trying to impose."

jason dragged his hands through his hair in frustration. "for fucks' sake, stop being so nice all the time. you just found out on your birthday that your childhood friend came back from the dead and you don't want to impose? fuck no, you're sleeping in my room, i'm sleeping on the couch, end of discussion." jason set the pile of clothes and blankets into her hands. "go get ready for bed. like i said before, call me if you need anything." and he left down the hallway without a second glance.

ten minutes later, and she was more than ready to finally go to bed. jason lent her his face wash, and found a spare toothbrush for her to use so she could properly wash up. as of now, she sat on the edge of jason's bed, clothed in one of his shirts that fit her like a dress. granted, it was baggy on him as well, but even more so on someone a foot shorter than him. but she couldn't go to sleep, not that she had tried. she couldn't go to sleep knowing her best friend was just a room away and there was still so much left unsaid. she hadn't seen him since they were fifteen. and these have been four excruciatingly long years. quietly, she opened the bedroom door and walked into the living room, where jason was sprawled across the couch, visibly uncomfortable.

"jason?"

his head whipped towards her direction immediately, standing up just as fast. "do you need anything? i have some melatonin if you can't sleep, or i could make coffee because i know with your adhd caffeine always makes you tired, or-"

"jason," she repeated, more firmly but still just as sweet. her hands reached up to cradle his face, flinching at first, until the moment her skin came in contact with his own, and he melted into her touch. "will you please sleep in here with me? please? i just got you back and i don't want you to go away," she trembled, lips quivering ever so slightly. but jason knew better than anyone how much she hated to cry, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't close.

he could never tell her no. so he hugged her as tightly as his exhausted body would allow, whispering yes into her ear. as he climbed into bed next to her, she cuddled up close to him almost immediately. he was grateful for it. truly, grateful.

she dozed off to sleep within ten minutes, her head laying against his broad chest, listening to his heartbeat as if fearing it would never beat again.

jason watched her as her chest continued to rise and fall, listening to the sound of her breathing soothe him like waves of calmness flowing over his entire body. jason kissed her forehead, vowing to protect and love her forever as his body began to shake with uncontrollable sobs.

jason had loved her for as long as he could remember.

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a/n: hope u liked it! :3 have a good day bby <3

#jason todd #red hood #dc comics #dc universe #fanfic #angst #friends to lovers #cliffhanger #batfam #batman

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 2 days ago

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It just doesn't jive with some of the PR that KP puts out about William - for instance, the 'statesman' PR they do whenever he travels abroad. You're not a statesman if all you do is travel twice a year for two or three days at a time. You need to be in meetings, going places, talking to people, being in the room, representing the king at other countries' diplomatic/state events.

What do you want the KP do though? They can’t just sit om their asses. It’s PR. And maybe it’s not even for us royal watchers, it’s for the general public whose image of William is probably still stuck to when he was a hearthrob teenager or a young adult stumbling out of clubs or a newlywed or a young balding boring father. The KP PR team have to tell those people something, and maybe for those people it’s enough to see this new phase in William stepping up to his role. They see him taking a meeting with Biden or Trump and they’ll realize ohhh William is doing grown up stuff now lol. I was just watching the Daily Mail youtube show Palace Confidential. In the latest episode, Jo Elvie, the host, made a comment that for her who’s a bit older than William, she still very much sees William as young, so seeing him on his recent trip to Estonia, she feels William is stepping up into his role. There’s no mention of maybe his comms team should avoid saying he’s a statesman when he’s not.

That problem with the “statesman” tag thing is mostly coming from the niche place of royal watchers. The general public don’t think of that. Anyway, I’m just questioning the whole thing because the whole “Wiliam is trying hard to be a statesman” first came from the Baroness Bruck group of antis anyway. Those group of trolls have an agenda. The sentiment is echoed by William’s “fans” who aren’t happy with William’s workload. Maybe they want the PR to be more honest in a way, but as I said, maybe they aren’t the target audience for it.

I’m not saying I agree with KP’s strategy, I’m just putting forth questions for people to think about. The KP team got to do their jobs. So in your opinion, what would you have them do?

I thought that was clear in my post: KP should not be using the word "statesman" to describe William.

"Statesman" conveys a seniority that I don't think William has, not yet, not when you consider how long and how diverse his career is going to be. He's definitely on track to get there in the next couple of years, though.

But the flip side of it is when you consider who William's peers are - the other millennials in national government leadership roles; the JD Vances (born 1984), the Pete Buttigiegs (born 1982), the Sebastian Kurzes (born 1986), the Sanna Marins (born 1985), Guillaume of Luxembourg (born 1981). Compared to them, William has the most diplomatic experience in terms of the heads of state he's met and the audiences he's had.

In that respect, "statesman" does work, but no one is comparing William to the other millennials in government. They're comparing him to Elizabeth and Charles, and that's where William falls short of the mark for now.

The safer adjective, IMO, is "diplomat." Because that's what William is doing. He's doing diplomatic work meeting with heads of state and, in limited circumstances, representing the monarch abroad. He has not fully stepped into the kind of visible leadership role that "statesman" conveys to me, because his main focus is his family and as I said in the earlier post, that is perfectly okay.

The issue here is that KP messaging needs to align better with what William is actually doing or if William really is doing all this work on the back-end behind closed doors, then KP needs to be communicating that better, and that's something I've pointed out here several times before.

#waleses

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anexperimentallife · 16 hours ago

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Can't believe I left this out: You need a US phone number and address for banking purposes!

A dual-sim phone or one that handles e-sims is ideal, or you can get a cheap-ass second phone to keep both a US and local number. I have a regular US cell phone plan in addition to my local plan (local plans are very cheap), but I've spoken to people who say they have "talk and text" (no mobile data) US plans for as little as twenty bucks a month.

You will set your phone up so that your Philippines number is the default for everything, and use your US Sim only when you have a wifi connection. When you make a call, you will get a pop-up asking you which sim to use. Your local carrier can help you set this up if you're nervous about getting it right, or, as I said above, you can just get the absolute cheapest smartphone you can find, use that for your US number, and leave it at home instead of taking it away from your wifi network. I've done the dual sim thing for over six years now with no hiccups, though.

As for a US address, you should have a trusted friend or family member who is committed to staying in the US, and probably at least two back-ups. Multi-person households are ideal, in case something happens to your main contact. Most US banks will not send new ATM or credit cards directly overseas--although some will if you contact them and tell them you're overseas and need to replace your card. Expect to pay around eighty bucks if your contact person is going to mail your new cards to you here.

Your US contact should be someone you trust with all your banking info, as you may need them to activate credit cards for you, etc.

(I know I mentioned Schwab dropping people who spend too much time overseas, so one way around that might be giving your US contact a card and having them make some minor purchase with it a couple of times a year. Other banks have been fine with us being here for the past seven years, so to me it doesn't seem worth the hassle.)

Why a US (or your other country of origin) bank?

It can be a hassle to open a bank account here as a foreigner. First, you need to have been here long enough to have an alien registration ID card, and even then many bank managers are suspicious about opening accounts for foreigners. Different branches of the same bank have a lot of autonomy, and I've spoken with people who went to three branches of the same bank before finding a bank manager who would work with them.

Also, Philippines banks are suspicious of checking accounts (bad checks and money laundering have been big issues here), so if/when you DO open a local account, you'll want a savings account.

They are also suspicious of large amounts of money coming in or going out, and often demand information and proof of where the money is coming from and going to.

Another banking factor to consider: A lot of banking here is done by appointment, and long waits are common, so if there IS an issue with, say, your direct deposit with a local bank, it can take a while to get sorted.

IF YOU ARE ON SOCIAL SECURITY, the current US regime is making it so any changes to your direct deposit (which ussd to be a phone call) must be done in person at the SS office at the US embassy in Manila. And even BEFORE they began cutting services, it could take weeks to get an appointment. So make sure it's all sorted BEFORE you go.

As I think of more things to include, I'll reblog with additional info.

I PROMISE MOVING HERE IS NOT AS DIFFICULT AS IT MAY SOUND! It's just that there is a lot to consider. I did my research before moving, but I was still blind-sided by some things, so take advantage of my experiences.

Quick info on relocating from the US to the Philippines (yes, even if you're poor)

Source of my info: I've lived here in the Philippines for about seven years now, my (also from the US) wife has been here almost as long, and we had our daughter here. This is for people who have a location-independent source of income like SSDI (NOT SSI), remote job, etc.

I keep starting to type up a guide to moving to the Philippines from the US, but there's so much to cover I keep getting stuck! It's coming, though. As for why the Philippines, I did a lot of research before leaving the US, and it's the absolute easiest, least expensive, friendliest, and lowest-hassle English-speaking country to move to. You can stay on a tourist visa for three years at a time by extending every two months. At the end of three years, you buy a budget round trip ticket (for under 100 bucks) to Singapore, Kuala Lumpur, or whatever, walk around the airport, and hop on the place back.

Note: For convenience, I'm using US Dollars when discussing the prices you can expect to pay for things here, but only Philippines Pesos are accepted in the Philippines. Your US ATM card will get you pesos from the ATM, and with your US credit cards, you will generally get a choice between dollars and pesos.

The short version of what I recommend, without always explaining why you need these things:

A throw-away ongoing ticket leaving the Philippines within 29 days of your arrival. You may not be able to board the plane here without one. This is a MUST. There is a very slim chance that they MAY not ask to see proof of an ongoing ticket, but if they do, and you don't have it, you won't be allowed to board.

A location-independent source of income for at least 600 USD a month--That's enough to live like a local, without Western conveniences. No one will ask for proof of income, but you have to eat! 1K or more will have you living pretty well, and on 2K you can live like royalty. You can receive SSDI here and social security retirement, but NOT SSI.

Two bank accounts with ATM cards, and two credit cards through different banks. Mastercard and Visa are your best bets, as not everyplace takes Discover or AmEx yet. (MOST places do, but just to be safe.)

Some banks sound better than they are. Schwab bank advertises that they reimburse overseas ATM charges, and they do, BUT they may drop you if you're out of the US for more than a couple of years (like they did us and several others we've spoken to). We have an Aspiration account (and yes, that's an affiliate link, but you can just look them up if you want, too), and like them.

TELL YOUR BANKS YOU'RE COMING HERE! Otherwise you risk having your ATM/credit cards deactivated for "suspicious activity."

A few weeks before departure, you'll want to buy some Philippines Pesos. Your local bank probably won't have them, but they can order them. I recommend having at least 10,000 PHP on hand (about 180 USD), in a mix of 1K bills, 500s, and 100s. You're allowed to bring up to 50,000 pesos with you, but any more than that and you have to declare it.

Bring your medications. Get your doctor to write a scrip that ups your dose so you can bring at least a 90-day supply that looks on paper like a 30-day supply. Put multiple desiccant packs in your prescription bottles, or the humidity here will turn your meds into a single big lump. You will want the original bottle with the printed prescription label, and maybe a photocopy of the actual prescription. (There's a reason they do original packaging, and not pill bottles here.) I've never had my luggage searched or even had them LOOK at my medications, but who knows what the future holds?

Some meds may not be available in the Philippines, or may be harder to get. (I had to switch from vicodin to tramadol because vicodin is simply not available here.)

Lodgings: Look, I hate AirBNB as a business, too, but you need a place to stay while you look for permanent digs, so book one well in advance. You can get a month's stay for 300-500 bucks even in the big cities if you shop around. In the Manila area, I liked the places I stayed at in Blue Residences and Grass Residences. I only include this info because my AuDHD ass stressed so much over where to stay, and I figure I can save you that same stress if you're worried.

Some advantage of staying in AirBnBs for a month or three are that a) you're not in an immediate rush to find an apartment and get household stuff, b) it gives you time to make some local connections before committing to a long-term lease, and b) if you're staying at a unit in a condo building, you can get to know the staff, which can be a HUGE help in getting settled.

Once you're here, you can find decent permanent lodgings for under 200 a month if you shop around. Blue Residences, last time I checked, had studio condos for about 180 USD a month last time I checked. (No, I don't get anything for recommending them--Just trying to give the best info I can.)

These are the bare basics of getting here.

A few general tidbits, in no specific order:

As for vaccinations, get them here, where they're cheaper.

We like living in Baguio. It's an artsy little university city of about 400,000 people, up in the mountains, about a four hour bus ride North of Manila, and it stays cool enough up here that we don't really need air conditioning--which is the biggest utility expense you'll have in lowlands cities like Manila. We know people who rent temporary housing to tourists and students, so let me know if you need a referral. We only stayed in the Manila area for about six months, with occasional trips down there to take care of things at the US Embassy, but we can give SOME guidance on that area.

Which reminds me: If being near the embassy is a concern, you may want to stay in the Manila area. The new regime in the US is changing social security rules so that to do something as simple as changing your direct deposit requires an in-person appointment, and who knows what else they're going to change?

In Baguio, we get fresh produce from the wet market delivered to our door for a third or less of what it would cost at local supermarkets.

The humidity is intense in the Philippines. 80 degrees in Quezon City feels hotter than 110 in Kansas.

Most places here, when they say unfurnished, they mean COMPLETELY unfurnished. No fridge, no stove, no anything; just bare rooms. Most locals cook on a mini gas range with a propane tank, and a counter-top oven. This is part of why I say you'll want a couple of credit cards. You can get set up with the above for a couple of hundred dollars, but still, if you're moving partly out of financial stress, you'll want to pay these things off gradually.

ASK if a place has a shower heater. Many do not. If not, you can get one at the local hardware store and hire an installer for as little as a couple hundred dollars total. (You can use a card at the hardware store, but the installer will want cash.)

You'll have filtered drinking water delivered in five gallon jugs, for around 50 cents per jug; even the locals don't drink the tap water. One jug will last you about a week unless you drink LOTS of water. (We go through three jugs a week in a household with three adults and one toddler, but as an autistic man, I drink more sparkling water than regular water, or we'd probably go through four a week.) You'll want a cheap little pump you can get at the hardware store, or you can order an electric one online (or lift the jug and pour). If you want to be fancy you can get a water-cooler-type thing.

Food is SO inexpensive if you go to the wet market or have them deliver to you. We spend about 400 dollars a month on groceries--including snacks, etc.--for all four of us. Going out to eat can cost less than two dollars if you shop around like a local. Public transport is ubiquitous and costs pennies to use, while taxis can start as low as 75 cents (here in Baguio, anyway).

Get the Grab app. It will be your friend.

A doctor's visit will cost maybe twelve bucks even for a specialist, but be prepared to wait. When they say, "Come in at 10 am," what they mean is, "my clinic hours start at 10am, so you can come put your name on the list at that time, and if you're lucky you won't have too many people ahead of you."

This is by no means comprehensive, but I'm tired, and my daughter needs attention, so bye for now!

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slavhew · 1 year ago

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28/01/2024

stars don't twinkle moon doesn't shine

big thanks to @nahrgles for finishing this for me after i hit a wall with colors bg and effects- chromatic aberration blew my fkn mind

pre edit transparent version under cut because i spent too much time cleaning it loll

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic #shadow the hedgehog #shadow #sonic adventure 2 #sa2 #admin draws #fanart #not intended as ship theyre kinda just There but like if ya wanna tag it i aint stopping you #never played sa2 myself but ive been insane about these two for saur long now and thats like half the reason i even finished this #finished sonic generations though and i replayed this fight like three times omgfgghgh its so fun. i love them so much #those who follow my main blog mightve seen the piece by a long deactivated artist that inspired this #queue spat it out just around the time i finished this #sitting down to complete a piece that i dont finish in one sitting is rare let alone 2 (it took 3) and im pretty happy with it #still not ttoooottally happy but you just gotta let mistakes be and not ruin ur perception of a thing thats on the whole. pretty good #ive still got a bg3 wip in the works but i might have to doodle these 2 for sanity rather than sitting down after a long day #of studying infectious diseases for a final. and then making myself work on something ive wrung of most of its initial creative dopamine #MORNING EDIT WOW. THAT TRAILER HUH. 20 YEARS OF SHADOW RETROSPECTIVE HOW WE FEELING.#BC I KNOW IM ON CLOUD NINE NOW

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sysig · 2 months ago

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2024 Art Purge (Part 1)

Original Edition again! Another year of too many doodles between original and fanart that didn’t make the full cut over the course of the year - off we go!

I made some concept art for smol early in the year of a mushroom girl she had a dream about a while ago that she wanted to try making as a low-poly model sometime. Pretty sure we've narrowed it down to the original DS-era style of 3D models

And so some angular low-poly style doodles were also called for! She's so tiny haha

Around the same time I was thinking about ZEX's “Kissing Strangers” meme, I started considering what Charm's reaction to that one might be - I'm always trying to think of animation memes for her, I'd love to animate her sometime ♥ In the end, it was all a bit too weird! In a way it’s fitting, as the meme is all about Looking and not finding the one you want to kiss til the very end lol, but who would that even be! Who would Charm Want to kiss, I don't know...

[Purple Text] only got a very little bit of screentime this year, but they're just as weird and possessive as ever - once, forever and always, at least according to how they see things

Smol and I tried out a few different creative games over the course of the year - my favourite probably being the Crossover Wheel where we each put in our list of fandoms, including ones we share, and then imagine what a crossover would be like haha. House Hunted is one of hers, and she tossed the idea my way of looking at Zillow Listings (specifically this group) and imagining them as Realtors! I got the Sunflower House - you'll know it when you see it haha

Bit of a random one, but I thought the sheep from this little scene was hecka cute and needed to study her. Good shapes! Very adorable! I like her covered eyes quite a lot, and her spindly little legs, funny to me hehe

I also wanted to study her "Leg of Lamb" posing - can you tell this is memory vs. references lol. S'why references are so important! The original's delicate posing is very lovely! The soft positioning of her knees and ankles and the way she's fully reaching across herself with those fluffy "sleeves" are probably my favourite parts, it's a good pose!

Haven't done any Halfway Autumn concept art in a while-while, so why not come back with Diana's bathroom lol. Still a bit of work to be done, moving the door is probably the biggest point - having the leftmost wall lined with counter space is clearly the correct play here. I really like the shapes that naturally occur from isometric, like the way the shower curtain rod connects to "nothing" but it still reads as stopping at the wall! :D

All of this floorplanning just for some flavourtext about Diana's preferred style of hand soap haha. Foaming soap dispensers are the best! Makes everything much much clearer, definitely not just because I prefer it, it's totally objective! Haha

More bathroom flavourtext, either at the schoolhouse or the train station, or both! Since so much of the game is centered around Diana's needs, little things like what soap she uses actually impact the game! I wish something so simple wouldn't affect my day, but sensory needs are called needs for a reason :P

Started a Charm comic that unfortunately only got as far as the first panel haha - she's taking a class! Off to improve her skills at something in a group environment! Good for her :)

Or not, the sads are here :'0

Did a bit of Tsumtsum studying while drawing the Helix boys as such haha - I have one of those little Vocaloid not-Tsumtsums (they're only Tsumtsums if they're Disney, right?), and one full-sized Iron Man one that I studied the approximate shapes of the pattern from, they don't Look complex and they're probably not Actually that hard to make but there's still a good bit to them! 3D shapes, I swear

The 4th Wall group! Their poses and expressions changed a bit from start to finish, Cory once again looking at Bar - I don't think he's actually "seen" Bar's new design before this point! :0 They're all generally aware of each other but "actually interacting" is a whole other thing haha

The two stragglers, made Tala way too tiny here haha. And forgot her bow here, no wonder I forgot it for the full version too! Pfbtl, next time :P

A traditional version of the Just Desserts map! :D Made after putting the digital version together, just kind of loosely studied, general shapes good for mapmaking :) I quite enjoy the little mountain texture here over the one from the digital version! S'hard to make nice-looking shapes without my tablet but I really didn't want to use it Just for that haha, so nice shapes here! Gives me DQIX map vibes, just a little bit... All those little islands to sail to haha

Snake, snake, snaaake, it's a snaaaake ♪ Made for smol's Christmas exchange ostensibly, but really more of a spacefiller and to get into the swing of drawing snakes, the cute lads

Ball python in the style of a ball of yarn! I wouldn't mind wrapping up a plush snake, but the way real ball pythons curl up into a ball is too cute haha

Here was the Actual snake I ended up making for smol - as a bookmark! I printed a few different versions, coloured one like this with extra-dark spots for the scales, and glued on a ribbon-tongue, cut down the middle for a forked look! :D She liked it, and I like it! Double victory :)

A little sticker concept while my laptop was out for attempted repairs - can't save 'em all I suppose. I do like that the head mirror is a disc, the stethoscope is a mouse, cute little details even for an unfortunate set of circumstances

#Doodles #Original #Long post #I love when these are polite and don't break <3 #This being the smallest of the three may have been a contributing factor there lol #Expect only more! But for now! Enjoy what is here! Haha #So much for 2024 being the year of little saved back lol I'd argue it just keeps increasing year by year #Stuff I want to show off! Where to put them is the question every time #All these not-quite-finisheds or one-offs or small groupings or concept sketches that would spoil the final version - where to put them all!#Right here and right now haha #As usual there are some I want to return to! The Kissing Strangers meme would be weird but that also part of what makes it interesting #Specifically to do with a sona makes it more complicated feelings tho!#Maybe I can have her kiss the other sonas lol I'm obviously not above self-love♪ lol #Technically there are some fandom-adjacent things here - even a study! That's explicitly not original! But I thought it fit better here #Original Enough™ haha #Fewer eyes in this particular set but just you wait - it's a mainstay it's the only way to be haha #It's also an odd one to have the purge coming out Now - not just the timing lol but because that means after they're done that'll be it!#It'll all be 2025 art once the third set is out! :0 That's so unusual to have the purge and cast the year completely aside!#I'm not sure how I feel about it yet :0 But I'm glad to have had a little extra time to work on stuff while the end of the year was in chaos #Too much going on! Best to take things as they come :) Prepwork is all well and good but sometimes just going with the flow is good too!#So I'm happy with it ♪

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