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arteastica · 8 months

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early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (23)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.5k

“C-commander, you’re going to make me c-come.” You warned for the last time before letting yourself go. Where? Well, that was for him to decide, because your legs had stopped responding a long time ago. But you didn’t need them anyway; with his nails buried in your back and his dick, deep between your legs, you weren’t going anywhere. At least not anywhere he didn’t decide.

Like a starved soul waiting to be spoon-fed, you opened your mouth wide, a silent moan escaping your lips as you were about to taste the sweet orgasm he had so prettily gift-wrapped for you. Indulgent like thick cocoa in oversized cups, comforting like cinnamon upon custard, forbidden like molasses at midnight, or messy like melting ice cream dripping down your fingers. What would he taste like today?

You would’ve found out, if only he had stayed.

Because, without allowing time for confusion or emptiness to happen, he pulled out, slipped his arm under your waist, and turned you around, making you sit back up on the desk, where you finally came eye to eye with him, and the sweaty streaks of sunshine sticking to his forehead despite the unforgiving temperatures lurking outside your window.

His breathing was labored and ragged, like an elaborate quilt. Warm. Homelike. Handmade. But that was something you both had in common. Your chests, rising and falling against each other; your faces, so close you were stealing each other’s oxygen; his lips, hovering over yours, reminding you of butterflies fluttering around a marigold garden; making you realize how long it had been since the last time you kissed; and your folds, desperately dripping and clenching around the overwhelming emptiness, reminding you of how ready you were for that to change.

You lifted a hand up to his face, pulling him closer; your eyes staring into his, blue like the sky after a storm.

Or perhaps, the storm was just on its way.

Strong arm still wrapped around your waist, he smoothly glided back into you; his lush eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, and his mouth hanging slightly open, as your walls squeezed his swollen member. Suffocating him. Just the way he liked it.

Feeble, sheepish whimpers escaped your lips at the gentle intrusion. As gentle as the raindrops now tapping on the window, announcing the last rainfall of the winter.

Or maybe, the first one of the spring.

“I’m sorry.” He grunted against your lips, before finally closing the distance between you.

And even if he hadn’t spelled out the words for you, you could taste them in his kiss. You could taste it all, even though the tea you had prepared for him remained untouched at the other end of the desk. You could taste the lemon, bitter like regret, yet also fresh like new beginnings. And there was also the honeycomb, nostalgic like a sunset, yet sweet like the waltz your tongues were dancing inside your mouth. A slow, gentle waltz under the rain. His tongue, in perfect synchrony with whatever magic his dick was performing inside you, making you moan against his lips, just in case he didn’t know how good he was making you feel.

And the sensation of your mouth stuffed with his tongue and your pussy, with his cock, quickly became too overwhelming for your poor body to bear; your insides crumbling like sand as a sinking feeling took over. Not the type that precedes a bad day however, but the floaty, funny type you always experienced when jumping from treetops during ODM practice. And even though you were perfectly safe there, held in place by his arm around your waist, and your legs around his hips, you felt like you were free-falling, plummeting down into something unknown. And like so, you pulled away, deciding to wrap your arms around his neck instead, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder, where you felt the safest.

“Me too.” You whispered against the damp collar of his shirt. “I promise there’s no one else, Erwin.” Finally able to lay your worries down on his chest, as you let your weight fall against him. “Only you.” And you felt his grip tighten at your words, bringing you impossibly closer to him. “Yes, I’m yours. Only yours. A-always yours.” You repeated over an over, answering the question his cock was relentlessly asking, as it stabbed you repeatedly. “I belong to you and no- no one else mmmhh~ I don’t want anyone else inside me but you.” You closed your eyes, now saturated with tears, not knowing if it was because of how much you missed him, or because of how big he was.

But whatever the reason, your words caused his thrusts to hasten, and his nails to bury even deeper in the thick flesh around your hips, burning your skin like the hot iron they use to mark animals. And you called his name for good measure, just in case he needed further confirmation that you were his. You called his name as repeatedly as the drops falling from the sky outside. You called his name as fireworks exploded all over your body; your back arching against the muscular arm he kept around you, your head thrown all the way back, and your breasts in full display, like a ceremonial feast offered to a king.

And when your muscles stopped spasming, you collapsed on him, desperately gasping for air against his neck, as if you had just come back to life after almost drowning. And you honestly didn’t know if the moisture on his shirt was coming from his skin or your eyes.

While your forehead took a much needed rest against his shoulder, you looked down to find him still buried into you, your sweet nectar spilling out of your hole, dripping down his thighs like honey, messily sliding down the glossy wood of his desk.

And you looked up at him through heavy eyelids, a fucked out smile on your lips, silently asking if he too found it beautiful, the mess you had created. And this time, for the first time in days, he smiled too. His hand temporarily leaving the abused skin of your hips to tuck sweaty strands behind you ear.

Please fuck me again.

“Please stay.” You requested softly, clenching around him, hoping he wouldn’t pull out. Hoping things would stay as they were right now. Between the two of you. Trapped in your little bubble. His eyes like the clear sky reflected in a stream, like gentle sun rays tickling your skin, on a Sunday morning, just a little before noon.

I love you. Your lips quivered, tempted to let the words spill. I love you, Commander. But you didn’t want the bubble to burst. You wanted to stay forever trapped inside with him. Together. As one.

I love you, Erwin.

“Please keep making love to me.”

I love you so much.

He placed a soft kiss on your lips just as his hips started to move again. Unhurriedly, gently, indulgently. Like stirring thick cocoa together, by the kitchen window, on a snowy night.

You held his face as he sucked on your bottom lip, as his tongue savored all his favorite flavors on yours, as his lips condensed a million thoughts into a moment. And not long after, when the pace of his thrusts hastened again, you pulled away, not wanting to miss a second of his face when he came, something so captivating and artistic it belonged in a museum. Truly a masterpiece. His temples covered with salty dew as he panted for air, forehead resting against yours. And you had never been this grateful for the unforgiving training that scouts had to go through. You had never been this grateful for that early morning run he never skipped. Because there was no doubt in your mind that he could fuck you all night long. You had no stamina left, but he did, and that’s all that mattered. After all, his body was the one doing all the hard work, and yours just needed to bounce and react.

“Command-”

“I missed you.” As breathless as you currently were, your heart couldn’t afford the luxury of skipping a beat. Yet it did, your entire body choosing to stay silent, just in case he said it again. Because, the thing is, you really needed to hear those three words again. From those very lips that were now hovering over yours. “I missed you so bad.” He ran his thumb across your cheek, his touch as soothing as the gentle breeze from a faraway childhood summer. “Those days were the worst.” He paused, intently scanning your features as if carving them inside his memory. “Realizing I was no longer on the receiving end of that smile.” His thumb found your bottom lip, and caressed it gently. “Asking myself if I was losing you every time you closed the door behind you.”

“Erwin.” His sweet name on your lips, and salty droplets on your eyes. “I want to be with you.”

Forever. You added in your head, remembering the cabin in the woods. By the stream, a faraway windmill as your closest neighbor, the climbing hydrangea guarding the door, and the stepping stones leading up the hill, where the sycamore was always waiting, in front of the snow-capped mountains, the wooden swing below and its musical creak, its only company. Forwards, backwards, forwards and then backwards again. Never getting tired. And neither do you. But how could you? Waking up next to him every day, his bare back beneath the morning light; and making love, your only plan for the weekend. And if it only existed in a fantasy, why could you describe it in such detail? If it wasn’t in your future, then why could you see it all? Smell it all. Hear it all.

Feel it all.

“So do I.” He answered, his eyes like a sunlit lake, and his eyebrows like the evergreen foliage surrounding it.

“Erwin.” You used his name again, as if it was a promise; your voice impossibly breathy as his hips continued its satisfying dance, that by now had grown more and more erratic, telling you that it was near. You could tell, even if words didn’t forecast it: The cloudburst about to happen between your legs.

He buried his nails even deeper in the abused flesh of your hips, presumably looking for some form of stability as his movements became more and more unsteady. And he was so hard it must hurt. So hard you had to stare, not wanting to miss a second of that spectacular finale: his rich, indulgent cream, the sweet result of your lovemaking, a recipe you had created together, splattering everywhere like fresh paint once he pulled out.

But the thing is, he wasn’t pulling out. You looked back up at him, searching for an explanation, not wanting to get your hopes up, since you didn’t know how ephemeral his mistake would be. But it didn’t look like a mistake. Not when he was staring at you like that, so intently, as if he was fully aware of his actions.

You looked down again. He was going to come; there was no doubt. You felt it inside, and it would happen any time now.

“You look the prettiest when you’re happy.” He said all of a sudden, his voice a mixture of grunts and labored breaths, and his lips curving into the sweetest smile he had given you yet. And maybe it was that, or the window behind him, or the fact that it had also been raining back then, but your mind traveled to the very first day you met. So many nights ago. He had told you to come in, and then apologized for how boring and repetitive your days were about to get. All while smiling, just like today.

Oh, if only you knew back then.

“I want to make you happy.” He said, his eyes wrapping your naked body like the softest of silks, and his smile feeling like a promise, one you couldn’t wait to kiss.

“You already do.” You replied, voice filled with sweet adoration, just mere seconds before he collapsed on you, forehead resting against your shoulder, as you ran soothing fingers through his hair, completely drenched, almost as if he had been fucking you under the pouring rain instead.

I love you. “You did so well for me.” You whispered against his forehead, holding him like you wished you could for the rest of your days, and closed your eyes, enjoying the tickling of his breath against your neck, as well as that of his warm cream sliding down your belly. Someday, maybe in the not so distant future, it would be inside instead.

Or maybe not.

But you didn’t feel like entertaining uncertainty tonight. Not when you finally had him in your arms like this.

“I’m sorry.” He said, and the words tickled the sensitive skin of your neck. His fingertips were drawing soothing patterns on the tender flesh of your hips, but the tone of his voice told you that bruises and hickeys weren’t the only thing he was apologizing about.

“Erwin, I swear there’s nothing between him an-”

“Shhh.” He hushed you softly, leaving his comfortable spot on the crook of your neck so he could look into your eyes. His cheeks were so red, perhaps from being under the sun all day. But you liked to think it was from fucking you so hard just moments ago. “It was never your fault, yet I blamed you for it without even asking you first.”

“You can ask me now.”

“You already gave me your answer.” He smiled, and even though you still wondered what had led him to believe there was something between you and Leon, you couldn’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tight and pushing the question to the back of your mind. Your eyes closed, and your cheek resting against his shoulder. Maybe you could try asking him again some other time.

“I’m sorry too.” You said, and even though you were only wearing your underwear, in his embrace, you had no complaints about the cold. “For pulling away all of a sudden, for leaving you in the dark.”

“You can tell me now.”

“Not now.” But maybe some other time. Because, like you said, you didn’t feel like bursting the bubble with your explanations and concerns.

And maybe you were on the same page, because he didn’t pry any further. Instead, he silently caressed your bruised hips and thighs. “I promise I’ll be more gentle next time.”

Next time. You liked that. You liked how those words sounded on his lips.

You took a look at the red skin his fingertips were tracing, skin that would surely be turning purple in the coming days, and smiled teasingly, realizing you hadn’t felt playful in a long time, so the feeling was as foreign as it was welcome. “I guess someone did miss me, after all.”

“You have no idea.” He replied, wistfulness in his words, as you pulled him back to your chest.

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @mchlist @apts2000 @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe @erwinawesomeness @lucifers-nipple-piercing @karmabyfernando

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deedala · 3 months

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🍃w e e k l y t a g w e d n e s d a y🍃

thank you to @energievie for writing the game this week and thanks for tagging me!! also thanks for tagging me for this and also for the pinterest game which im putting down below @lingy910y @gallapiech @suzy-queued @creepkinginc @thepupperino @blue-disco-lights @crossmydna @jrooc @heymacy @wehangout @mybrainismelted @xninetiestrendx @heymrspatel XOXOXO all of you 💖💖💖

Name: deanna

Age: noel-aged

Location: ooohiooo

And now...

What is your DJ name? i dunno, when i worked in college radio it was something about a fish... okay wait yes, lets go with DJ Fishy 🙃

If you were a genre of music, what would it be? whatever chappell roan's the rise and fall of a midwest princess is

What would you title your biography? Wellp

What are the first three things you'd do if you were invisible? i like this idea of sneaking onto expensive modes of transportation. i would do that assuming i had no where else to be and no responsibilities to see to 😆 and i would also rob rich people... and maybe i would go for walks int he middle of the night by myself and feel safe lol

What subject do you wish was taught in every school? all the important money and personal finance basics that they used to teach but then stopped because it made it easier to prey on adults who didnt know how to manage their credit and debt or do their taxes correctly 😜

When was the last time you tried something for the first time and what was it? uuhhh...the only thing i can think of right now is a lavender flavored matcha drink that was recommended a few months ago? ive gotten it again a few times (including today!) and its very good. im so happy i know what lavender tastes like now 😆

What is the most underrated city you have ever visited? this is very hard...i dont even really know how to know how most cities are rated anyway?? i feel like all the cities ive been to and loved are pretty universally rated highly lol. uhhhhh...i dunno.. Heidelberg, Germany? Luxembourg City? one of those.

What day in your life would you like to relive? uuhh i dunno, im going with wedding day because i barely remember any of it, it was such a blur. i would be less responsible and have more fun 😅

If you could eliminate one thing from your daily routine, what would it be and why? i really love sleeping and going to bed and falling asleep. but i hate waking up and i hate losing the time to unconsciousness. so if i could stay alive and not be tired and never sleep that would be so cool.

How long would you last in a zombie apocalypse? i like to think i could last pretty long because i am a huge wimp and have great Nope It's Time To Go instincts. Also im good at climbing.

What would be the most surprising scientific discovery imaginable? uuhhh backwards time travel

If you could have any view out your office window, what would you choose? puget sound with the olympic mountain range in the distance

☀️pinterest tag game☀️

i was tagged to do this pinterest game where you search Fashion, Pantone, Mood, and Food and post the first pin from each of the search results. gotta be honest buddies i dont really use pinterest very often and when i do its for random photo references sooooo...

x x x x

i do not know what is happening with that outfit. that is not really a color i would pick but its fine? the mood is pretty but looks kind of melancholy. that last photo though??? oh my god let me climb into there i wanna sit in the cozy rustic kitchen and eat pastries pleaaaaassseeeee!!!!!!

and now to tag in more folks to play either or both of these games!! 💖💖 @michellemisfit @darlingian @too-schoolforcool @the-rat-wins @lee-ow @mmmichyyy @iansw0rld @transmickey @burninface @loftec @metalheadmickey @gallawitchxx @gardenerian @vintagelacerosette @palepinkgoat @sam-loves-seb @samantitheos @sleepyfacetoughguy @sickness-health-all-that-shit @sleepyheadgallavich @rereadanon @mikhailoisbaby @mickeysgaymom @themarchg1rl @callivich @softmick @captainjowl @howlinchickhowl @spookygingerr @spoonfulstar @steorie @whatwouldmickeydo @burninface

#tag game #weekly tag wednesday

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semi-good-artist · 4 months

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I thought i might just put this out here.

I had some theories/ideas on the aspects we haven't seen their character for, so thats

Momus (Descura), the god of being a little hater

Pan (Lim and Oros), god of the wild

Eos (Ygnium), goddess of the dawn

Thanatos (Zorophet)

Persephone (Ravaal)

Why do I think these people show up? Hecate, I think, mentions that Melinoe will meet them

I imagine Than and Persephone to be encounterend in the House of Hades. I don't think this is such a great stretch, so yea.

Pan, I think would fit as a random encounter in the third area on the way above, which i assume is the plains of thessaly or maybe the foot of olympus (see the next segment why i think that). I imagine he could either give boon like Artemis or maybe just another reward maybe relating to plants? since hes a fertility god.

Heres a map showcasing my theory of the route Melinoe takes to the Olymp. to address my choice of Ephyra, I chose Ephyra (Cichyrus) since that one has the closest mythological ties to the underworld (as far as my knowledge goes), since both Heracles and Odysseus passed it on their journeys. of course the distance in game gets smushed so take this with a grain of salt. Anyways geography lesson over.

Momus and eos could both show up in the crossroads since all the children of Nyx are welcome there, but Eos could also be met on Olympus i think as the reason why Mel gets sent back. this is because each attempt takes place in one Night, and the end of a night is the dawn. I have no theories what Momus could do other than criticise everyone, maybe give tips/run reviews but we already got Odysseus and Schelemeus for that.

#As far as Im excited to see what supergiant does with them #I personally hope maybe Atlas or Prometheus shows up #even tho their myths say they are at way different places #hades spoilers #hades 2 #hades 2 spoilers #hades ii #hades ii spoilers

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billdenbrough · 1 month

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this one is kinda convoluted to explain LMAO basically @naturecalls111, @wyverningx and i were discussing one of mina's wips on twt (the summer beach episode, the finished version of which can be found here) and the convo turned to kevin dealing with aaron's thighs around his head. mina said something about still deciding which way kevin would be facing, which i think meant like. left or right. but i was still fixed on the legs around his head and was like. what. like i was thinking forward or back, got confused, so wrote her this to explain what i was visualising, and then she was like ok now post LMAO notsfw warning!! kevin's fantasies get reasonably in-depth and also vaguely unhinged. but it's shenanigans-y <3

Kevin’s top three fantasies this month—he’s pretty diligent about cycling them through, keeping them seasonally relevant, you know—are, as follows:

Kevin’s gold medal—origin unimportant to the fantasy, though it was the Olympics last time—is over both his and Aaron’s necks at the same time, forcing them to press in close, the way Kevin likes. He doesn’t know if this one is physically feasible—maybe he can get a custom ribbon—but he doesn’t care. It makes him feel hot all over, cheeks flushed and dick leaking, to think about the two of them pressed that close together, naked and sweaty and the exhilaration of victory flowing through them both. Kevin’s pride and satisfaction, and Aaron looking at him, that proud smile, rare but fierce, and it’s all for him. Eyes intent, dark, wanting Kevin, proud of Kevin, celebrating Kevin. Kevin’s not too proud to admit that sometimes he can come from that alone, even before he imagines his hand wrapped around both their dicks, or kissing his name out of Aaron’s mouth, or Aaron fucking into him while Kevin tries—and fails—not to chase his mouth for a kiss.

Aaron is sitting on the edge of the pier, ostensibly looking out over the ocean while the rest of their friends do whatever it is they’re doing. Kevin doesn’t bother to fill in those sorts of details in his fantasies, and the auto-complete in his brain is impeded by the fact that when he’s with Aaron, he doesn’t pay attention to them in the background unless they’re being especially loud, annoying or incorrect. So in Kevin’s head, they’re mostly an unfinished sketch background, doing something or other while Aaron looks over the ocean, looking at a distance like some character in one of Jean’s arthouse films. The reality of it is that Kevin is swimming beneath the pier, bobbing his head over Aaron’s dick. Kevin is often a merman in this, when the athlete part of his brain wakes up enough to be like, your muscles would give up before you made Aaron come, and you can’t have that, which is annoying but true. So sometimes Kevin is a merman, and then he has a tangential fantasy in those cases which involves whisking Aaron beneath the ocean and showing him how cool and handsome and good-at-things Kevin is in his natural element, and Aaron is like okay, sure, but can I look at your gills again? in an attempt to not seem so awestruck by Kevin, but his cheeks give him away every time, because Kevin always knows Aaron in his head, even when his fantasies lend themselves to something else. That’s a tangent, anyway. The important thing is sucking off Aaron at the beach while everyone else is there and can’t tell. Kevin came to that one in the shower earlier.

Aaron’s thighs are around Kevin’s head. The reason doesn’t really matter. These days, it’s usually some stupid competition at the beach, because it’s summer and everyone Kevin knows is a competitive asshole, or they’re Andrew, meaning just an asshole, or Jeremy, meaning just competitive. Aaron is sitting on Kevin’s shoulders, his quads visibly working as he clenches his thighs tight around Kevin’s head. Kevin at one point had to fact-check this, wondering if maybe he was just contouring Aaron’s thighs in a horny haze, but no. When they next went to the beach and Kevin watched Aaron’s legs as he took a running jump off the edge of the pier, there was definite action in the quadriceps. Unrelatedly, Kevin had to excuse himself by jumping into the ocean too. Matt had been baffled and Seth had given him a look somewhere between calculating and disgusted, but for the most part, Kevin thinks it was a successful swerve. Anyway. Kevin’s fantasy. Aaron’s thighs are around his head, clenching tight, and Kevin’s dick is hard as a rock. Sometimes Aaron notices, and says something. Sometimes Aaron notices, and his dick stirs against Kevin’s head. Sometimes Aaron doesn’t notice, or doesn’t say anything if he does, and Kevin gets edged by his own fucking head, painfully hard while Aaron says stuff like hurry up, I want to beat Neil or a little to the left, the light is to the left, do you have working eyes or stop fucking moving, I don’t want her to claw out my eyes because you’re complaining about your shoes, I can almost reach her. But that’s usually enough for Kevin, the idea of being so completely surrounded by Aaron’s body heat, the firm muscles in his thighs, the softness of the skin on the underside, pressed against Kevin’s shoulders.

So Kevin is really at a loss when that fantasy starts playing out in person, but develops in a direction he’d never anticipated. Specifically, Neil and Aaron grappling, and then Neil not letting go—because he is the worst person on the entire planet—when Nicky sneak-attacks Matt, Matt loses his footing a little and falls sideways, and Neil fucking swivels Aaron around Kevin’s neck on his way down into the ocean.

Aaron’s startled whoa! is going to live in Kevin’s head forever, probably. Part of him is also impressed at Aaron’s quick instincts, moving his feet enough that they don’t get caught on Kevin’s chest and unbalance them too.

Most of him is stuck in the current moment, though, face-to-face with Aaron’s crotch.

He can feel his dick against his face. He can smell it.

He—horrifyingly, desperately, unsurprisingly—wants to taste it.

#kevaaron #kevin day #aaron minyard #aftg #aftg fic #jane writes sometimes #aftg summer au #aftg beach episode #jane ficlets #jane kevaaron #jane kvar ficlets

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thedemigodsguide · 4 months

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Is having your nails recently done a valid excuse to get out of archery?

-Anon child of Aphrodite

Hey, Aphro kid!

I’d argue that no, having your nails done is not a valid excuse, and I’ll tell you why.

Archery, particularly the target shooting we do at camp, is all about form.

We mostly teach Olympic style shooting before getting into the nitty gritty field stuff, where form mostly goes out the window.

There are several different ways to draw your bow, most of which involve how you hold the string. Here's a good diagram of a few.

The common draw techniques we teach are the Mediterranean draw, aka split fingers, or the three under draw.

If you look closely, you can see that when the techniques are executed properly, they would never even tough your nails! If you're damaging your nails while shooting, then you need to adjust your form.

Additionally, there are several tools that you can use, as well.

There are a variety of different clip releases, like these.

They're not really recommended, though, if you're in battle, because it significantly reduces your draw speed in situation where a fraction of a second can be the difference between life and death.

There's also these silicon finger tabs.

However, they're not going to do much other than preventing calluses on your fingers. They may help reduce the risk of catching a nail by placing a little more distance between your finger and the string. Ultimately, they will still pose some risk, because you'd have to take more time to accurately knock your arrow.

The only who can sometimes get out of archery when he’s not hurt is Percy Jackson. But that’s because when he tries to do archery, he’s so bad that he’s a danger to himself and everyone around without even trying. His first time trying, his arrow somehow ended up in Chiron's tail. Chiron was standing behind Percy! It's literally impossible for anyone else to be that bad.

Anyways, basically, as long as you keep your nails within a reasonable length (maybe 5-ish millimeters?) and you practice good technique, you should have no issues with damaging your nails.

I'll definitely write an actual Guide page about doing archery in the future! It's one of my favorite camp activities, so I'm totally gonna put a lot of research into it! And I'll include tips from some others, like the Apollo kids!

Sorry to disappoint you!

–Kally

#camp half blood #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #pjo #pjo fandom #blog #the goings on at camp #aphrodite #aphrodite kids #aphrodite cabin #camp activities #archery #bow and arrow #archery techniques #archery draws #nails #long nails #demigods guide

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jeannereames · 3 months

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Hero Alexander vs. The Real Alexander

Moving to the second half of a recent question:

And if I'm not wrong, you mention at one place that you don't "heroize" Alexander. That's interesting, since he's often worshiped as a mythical hero. Why did you move away from that?

As a writer (and a reader), I’ve always been intrigued by the challenge of humanizing the “inhuman” (which can also include the ridiculously talented).

When I fell in love with Tolkien as a girl, I wanted to know what it would be like to be an elf, to have magic, to live that long, etcetera. Maybe that’s also why I always preferred Marvel superheroes over DC. Their hallmark was to make the fantastic (mutants, etc.) more human.

Now, I love me some traditional mythopoetic fantasy, but I’m no good at producing it myself. What is mythopoetic style? Peter Beagle, Patricia McKillip, Nancy Springer, C.J. Cherryh’s sidhe novels, my friend Meredith Ann Pierce … and of course Tolkien himself, where magic is real and magical creatures are…well, magical. Inhuman. Elves … not hobbits. Like a fairy tale…a myth (hence “mythopoetic”).

Anyway, I love reading that, but can’t write it to save my soul. When I write epic/historical fantasy (and I do see SFF as my home genre), it’s closer to anthro SF than to any mythopoetic style. My current MIP (monster-in-progress) is a 6-book series set on a secondary world where two branches of humanity survived, one of which, the Aphê, have super-convenient prehensile tails. 😊 The character journey for one of the protags across the first three novels is to recognize the Aphê as human and fallible rather than as a “noble savage” wise people. (Yes, questions of “What does it mean to be ‘civilized’?” are among the series themes.)

When it comes to historical fiction, I take the same tack. Alexander is interesting to me because he was a real person who accomplished extraordinary things.* What might he have been like in real life?

Making him too perfect—good at everything, no/few mistakes (just misunderstood), always honorable, etc., bores me. That’s the Alexander of his own marketing campaign. (laugh) It was adopted and refined by some later historians such as Arrian, and Plutarch in his rhetorical pieces (less in the Life but still there). That’s why I’m not a huge fan of Renault’s Alexander, and generally prefer her other Greek novels. Manfredi and (sorta) Pressfield do the same. Tarr and Graham also keep him deliberately at a distance to allow him to remain heroized, but it bothers me less because he’s at a distance. (Btw, I do not dislike Renault's ATG novels; they're just not among my favorites, either on Alexander, or of hers.)

Yet I’m not a fan of the other approach, either: to “humanize” him by taking him down a notch—making him NOT all that, just lucky (Lucian, and Nick Nicastro). Or by upending the heroic narrative altogether and turning him into a megalomaniacal “wicked tyrant” ala Pompeius Trogus/Justin or Seneca (and Chris Cameron).

I want something (and someone) more relatable, even while letting him remain truly astonishing. To humanize the “inhuman.” I realize that’s a challenge as, the moment we do humanize him, it removes him from the realm of the hero, which in turn makes it harder to allow him to be “all that.” For some, any fault is “too much”—the proverbial clay feet—because they’re desperate to have an idol, a hero…not a person. So the haters come out when, for instance, Simone Biles pulled out of the Olympics for mental health and the Twisties. How dare she!

I’m interested in the person. Even if Alexander wanted to be Herakles Take II, he wasn’t inhuman (divine). He was just a guy, and for me, the fact he was “just a guy,” yet still accomplished all those extraordinary things, is the most remarkable part.

I’ll conclude with what I wrote at the end of the author’s note in the back of Dancing with the Lion: Rise (also available on the website):

In the end, whatever approach one takes to Alexander, whatever theories one subscribes to, more or less hostile to the conqueror, we are left with the man himself in all his complexity and contradiction. The phenomenon called “Alexander the Great” has evoked vastly different interpretations from his era to ours. It’s tempting to seek internal consistency for his behavior, or to force it when it can’t be found. Yet no one is consistent. Even more, history itself is distorted by those recording it in order to serve their unique political narratives, whether then or now. Conflicting politics create competing narratives, and histories of Alexander were (and are) especially prone to such distortions. That, in turn, brings us back to where we began: history (like historical fiction) is about who we are now, and what it’s possible for us to become. So Alexander was neither demon nor god, whatever he wanted to believe about himself. He was a man, capable of cruelty and sympathy, brilliance and blindness, paranoia and an open-handed generosity. As remarkable as he was, he was human. And that's what makes him interesting.

--------------------

* That some of these extraordinary things would be—and should be—reviled by modern standards is part of the uncomfortable contradiction, and legacy, of the ancient world. This is something I also try to depict in the novel. So there is never a “simple win” in a battle. There’s something ugly shown in or as a result of every single one. On purpose. Battle is, and should be, deeply disturbing.

#asks #Alexander the Great #Heroizing Alexander the Great #Heroic Alexander #Megalomaniacal Alexander the Great #tyrannical Alexander the Great #historical fiction #Dancing with the Lion #ancient Greece #ancient Macedonia #Classics

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indigos-stardust · 5 months

Text

Fs pony art and lore

@shadylink I'm never really gonna refine and post these as their own thing but I figured u might be interested, most of these are just really bad finger doodles, cuz I hadn't drawn ponies in such a long time-

Btw in this au I decided to rework mlp's magic system, so basically each type of pony has their own type of magic ofc

Pegasi get flight , unicorns get spell magic, and earth ponies get strength that's the norm

But basically I'm deciding to see this as like, percentages.

Basically unicorns can do things like transformation and warp spells, pegasi can fly at high speeds skillfully and create gusts of winds, earth ponies can lift like 9x their weight and be more resistant to natural poisons/have less chance of injury because of a really dense coat and stronger bones -

but this is after specialized training in their areas and requires like years of practice. This is like 100% of the potential of those specific things, like Olympic athletes

most ponies just use like 50% of their capabilities so for unicorns that's just like refridgerating spells, light spells, levitation - pegasi is just flying over distances and being able to walk on clouds- earth ponies lifting like idk 4.5x their weight

so just normal skills that aid them in day to day life

i was thinking what if ponies could be half of two types?

so instead of just 100% magical capacity for a specific quality, 50% of their magic will be from one type and 50% of the other.

So if an earth pony and a unicorn had a kid, then MAYBE, (the phenomenon is a bit more rare but not unusual) they'd have the basic earth pony strength and the basic unicorn magic. HOWEVER, if that kid wanted to say, learn a warp spell, they wouldn't be able to do so.

Full unicorns would have longer horns and earth ponies would have stronger more vibrantly colored hooves that an earth-unicorn would.

Full pegasi would have fuller, stronger, sharper wings, while a half pegasus would have softer and smaller ones.

Alicorns would have the full magical extent of all three, essentially giving them 3x the magic of others. That mix could probably create even more magical potential.

For obvious reasons, there aren't any pegasi-unicorns because they'd look too much like alicorns design wise. I'm gonna say that their magical energies just oppose too much, while earth ponies, being so tied to the natural world is more able to mix with both.

Link was originally an earth-pegasi with a bit of extra strength and the ability to fly in general. His battle style is mostly sharp fast cuts with quick brief escapes to the air and then back into battle

also I've decided to give them clothes

when Link split into four, the types of ponies they were depended on their parents genetics

So green's a full pegasi, blue's a full earth pony, red is a earth-unicorn (this is why he uses a fire rod, he wouldn't be able to do a fire spell that strong on his own, but a fire rod would enhance his natural magic) and vio is a full unicorn

Anyways shadow is kinda like stealing king sombras vibes, he looks earth pegasi like link was but his wings are hooves are all shadowy lol

also links cutie mark was a sword in front of the triforce

after the split, each of their cutie marks turned into the four sword in front of their respective element

enjoy lol, u can do whatever u want with this info, hope you like it

EDit: also I fixed their swords so they can actually hold them with their mouths properly enough to correctly aim

oh I also forgot!

basically a little tidbit from my brainrot is that red actually got the hang of his unicorn magic really well, but vio just struggled even being able to start it up to levitate a pebble

he ended up being able to use his magic only after they almost got crushed by a rock slide and vio was able to raise a crystal sheild

he got bad magical exhaustion from that tho and still struggled to control his magic until shadow helped him later

green originally thought he was link because he was the only one who had wings, but because he wasn't earth pony and their cutie marks were just the elements they realized there wasn't an "original" but rather a split four ways

it takes them some time to realize that the type of pony they are isn't connected to the elements, but rather genetic probability

also when they first split vio had no idea he was a unicorn and while he was trying to figure it out the others were just like

listening to him ramble about how their types don't make sense!

how does earth relate to the water element? and if its a genetic thing, then why is red the only unico-

and then he's like why are u staring at me like that???is there something on my face?? and then he just has a whole freaking 100% unicorn horn and he's like well f*ck

anyways I also forgot to mention-

basically if a pony were to engage in battle stuff, some little tricks as a last ditch attempt to creat espace between themself and the enemy include:

Earth: stomping the ground so hard that your opponent loses balance

Pegasi: Creating a guest of wind to blow your opponent away

Unicorn: stab with the horn <3

#mlp #fs #four swords #MLP fs au

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ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa · 7 months

Text

Situationship to Exes to Lovers [Saiouma Prompt]

Clown: Thinking about saiou being in the middle of completely mundane activities where shuichi casually brings up "I think I'm in love with you" And kokichi immeadiately responds with "You're insane" And they have this conversation like 6 times Ajsgdhdb I just want them to completely brush over it and continue on with whatever they were doing like nothing happened

Dra: Is it done for the "wait that was akward I'll just pretend it didn't happen" way or "I'm unlovable and will ignore it" way

Clown: Hmmm, in like the this is a fun fact we've both fully accepted but aren't ready/ don't feel the need to have a full discussion about it yet But it can be angst, as a treat

Dra: Aww,, waiting until ready my beloved

Beez: i interpreted this as like, theyre already dating, and its just a running inside joke between them kahdkshdjdk

Ves: "love you" "ur just trying to get my money huh" (he is broke) "love you" "YOU POISONED THIS DINNER DIDN'T YOU"

Clown: In the middle of a game of chess "I love you" "your psychological warfare is cheap, really."

Hina: Oh shit we all had different interpretations I thought that this was the first time he says it and it's just. "I love you.", "You're insane." And then they don't adress it, just comfortably live with it

Dra: They move in together and confirm nothing [!! emoji]

Ves: shuuichi knowing kokichi loves him back but he isn't ready to say it yet,,,,,

Clown: I really like the thought of it being really casual, they've found a place that's really comfortable with each other. Enough that shuichi doesn't think twice before casually dropping the bomb because it feels right. And there's no need to pursue it immediately because there's no rush, no judgment between them hehehehe Shuichi just does it whenever he feels like and there's no expectation attached to it because they'll keep going as they are for now

Dra: They comfy,,,,,,,,,

Clown: Okay so now we can angst it

Ves: insecure shuuichi,,,,,,,

Clown: Shuichi becoming really anxious at the lack of answers Maybe meanwhile ouma takes it mostly as shuichi joking around

Ves: i think when kokichi finally says it back it'd be sometime when he doesn't have to face it mumbled into the back of shuuichi's neck in bed..

Dra: Why is he like this [sob emoji]

Ves: terminal clown disease "haha wouldn't it be funny if you actually loved me??? ANYWAY" olympic sprinting from that commitment

Dra: Me @ him

[this wasn't necessary to include, but consider: funny to me]

Clown: Shuichis burying his face in his pillow after the 3rd time ouma seemingly brushes off his confession and meanwhile ouma is just. "Heh, he really though he could get me with that one, oldest trick in the book I'm 6 steps ahead-" Ouma is allergic to heart to hearts he's breaking out into hives

Dra: What would Shu gain from pretending to love him please [sob emoji]

Ves: his CRIMINAL EMPIRE smh dra his WEAKNESSES

Clown: The fact that he feels like he's losing is a crime in itself Shuichi stole his lunch money (feelings)

Ves: seriously though…shuuichi can't wait forever. bro better shape up or he's getting left

Clown: Shuichi starts to distance himself and ouma doubles down on trying to get his attention But its not working and he doesn't quite understand what he's done wrong Maybe shuichi just got tired of him too

Dra: Shu is in "You just want me to entertain you but never care for me back" mode now fuck

Me: oh, they're doomed

Ves: NOOOOOO THEY CAN MAKE UP I BELIEVE IN THEM

Dra: He also blames himself for being distant bc "I fell in love with him who cares if he just wants to use me at least we could spend time together"

Ves: shuuichi's gonna end up The One Who Got Away frrr he breaks the news of a job out of the country.. he leaves. they still never talk about it they basically cut contact but they can meet again years down the line bc i can't take them breaking up FOREVER

Clown: THEY HIT THE SPEEDRUN BUTTON They weren't even dating and they broke up, why are they like this [sob emoji]

Dra: How kicked puppy are they when away from each other

Ves: Maximum for at least a year kokichi never quite gets over it shuuichi moves on a lot more and then they do something stupid af like end up as coworkers

Dra: PETTY ARC

Ves: WOULD THEY BE,,,, i feel like it'd be more awkward and sad kokichi never forgave himself yknow yknow

Dra: I think he'd be "You left me" to Shu a lil

Clown: he tried to confess to him before shuichi left but circumstances made it so shuichi couldn't hear him

Ves: OKAY BUT HE'S GOTTA BE BETTER NOW OR ELSE THEYRE NEVER GETTING TOGETHER- DICE bullied kokichi into therapy after he turned into goo post-breakup okay. he's a leeeettle better at communication now

Dra: One of them sees the other crying over something and they just hug for way too long instead of talking

Ves: they get tipsy at a company bonding outing

Dra: They fall asleep clinging to each other !!

Beez: its the best sleep theyve had in ages /hj

Clown: Okay, okay. Shuichi arriving at the company post a messy breakup who's wary as all hell about hanging around ouma again. He doesn't wanna be hurt again. But its so easy to fall right back into the place he had with ouma and bicker despite the lingering tension. Ouma is post neet era. Took him a bit to accept help from dice and friends but he's finally breaking in there. Shuichi lighthearted asks about his plans to rule the world with his orginazation and ouma shrugs and says "I guess we grew up." They don't talk about anything until the alcohol lmao They're dapper buisness men at a soul sucking company I'm assuming aksbdkdh Where do they work actually??

Ves: i was assuming a detective agency

Dra: And what do they talk about when drunk enough [eyes emoji]

Ves: the good mediocre old times? "we were real stupid back then huh. wanna make out"

Dra: Did Ko become a detective too help

Ves: IT'S ONE OF THE BEST JOBS FOR HIM I'LL DIE ON THIS HILLLLL

Dra: They get fired for this/j [making out]

Ves: they hide in a corner it's fine

Clown: Fully silly speedrun one night stand that they both don't know how to deal with and now they're working on a case together whose events they're going to metaphorically link to their current lives/j

Hina: "This murder is just like the death of our relationship"

Ves: "see how these people didn't communicate, kokichi?? SEE WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM???????"

Dra: Who wakes up/gets sober first [eyes emoji]

Ves: kokichi unfortunately shuuichi is a Squeezer so no escaping for him <333

Clown: He's going to jump out a window to escape alshsk

Ves: NUH UH he tries but shuuichi wakes up they cook breakfast together. it's. An Experience

Dra: They get eggshells in the yolk because fuck them/pl

Ves: these eggshells are also a metaphor for their-[GETS SHOT]

Me: Shuichi waking up groggily, what could he mumble to destroy Kokichi who's already been dying for half an hour?

Dra: An ex's name/j

Me: noooo that's not how I meant it!

Ves: an old petname

Me: YESSS

Ves: for a minute he doesn't even realize all those years've passed,,,,, kokichi's hair is still FUCKING ITCHY-

Hina: No but this was my first thought too It was that or "This was a mistake" Or even "Who are you?"

Ves: THIS IS MEANT TO BE THEIR RECONCILIATION GUYS WGAT THE FUCK

Me: that's as far off from what I wanted as it gets, I was trying to think of something cheesy with extra cheese, like "you stayed,,," is not enough

Dra: He says darling in the most eepy voice ever methinks

Hina: Or even just a "Stay…"

Ves: my goto for Maximum Sap is bunny but i know that makes some people cringe SNDJSBHDFJBGF….hitting him with darling could be an instakill… is he aware of the situation or is it more of a 'nooooo it's too early babe,,,,'

Me: something that was more personal to them, a pet name that clearly has a story behind it unaware, more than half asleep

Ves: if there has to be a Story than i am once again proposing bnuy

Dra: While yes they definitely have that Saiou are also the type of mfs to call each other a random object for the funnies and it sticks

Me: that counts as having a story and being something specific to them

Ves: i maintain that all their petnames start out Stupid

Clown: Called him bunny because ouma wouldn't stop trying to eat cardboard/j

Ves: it was their pens and cords actually. but i think he'd try cardboard if you put it in his hands when he was distracted enough but also a random object? does shuuichi just wake up and say paperclip?

Dra: Yes

Checkers: Kokichi starts calling him Baby Carrot

Ves: did i tell you about the 'punk' one i watch a streamer who apparently started calling her husband pumpkin -> then punkin -> then just punk. i know this because when he comes in the room she says PUNK!! in the most affectionate voice and it's hilarious every time very saioucoded

Clown: Shuichi lovingly calling ouma "punk" beloved

Clown: Okay, so saiou waking up together. Do they talk about it? Or is it an unspoken thing? And will there be a dramatic scene where ouma is physically ripped from his silly little dodging commitment Era when there's a real threat he might lose shuichi forever? /hj

Dra: Maybe not forever but something happens and Shu might have to leave again and he DOES NOT want that

Clown: Ajsgdjdh I was gonna shoot shuichi BUT YES

Me: it was a christmas office party and they got snowed in together I'm talking like. Snowstorm hits as they're eating breakfast, Ouma is watching his plans of leaving asap after they eat and not touching any heavy topics slip through his fingers as it's howling against the windows

Ves: ah, getting snowed in…mother nature's get along sweater the discussion is very stilted but it HAPPENS okay and then they kith <3

Dra: What if they like. Use metaphors. It's hard to actually talk about it so they pretend they're only talking about the weather

Ves: shuuichi starts it as a way to give kokichi an out but still make him Talk

Clown: Shuichi finding ways to get what he wants without sacrificing ouma's lying shield YES

Ves: they communicate strangely but they still do

Dra: Something something "The windows can't hold the snow out forever, they'll either need stronger support or the wind should be considerate and calm down" (I knew you weren't ready but it kept hurting me when you avoided me and I couldn't take it anymore.)

Ves: as the serious conversation (and coded apologies) eases down it just gets. Silly bad adult film dialogue they're both giggling like 'hmmm maybe the wind should get on over here then-' 'i sure like the feeling of the wind on my face' and they just double over wheezing they're so fucking annoying <3 their coworkers have a bigger storm coming than the snow one smh it turns out they're insanely good at solving cases together. but GOD are they obnoxious-

Dra: PDA is officially in

Clown: Everyone's walked in on them making out in the closet at least once

Dra: Imagine them praising each other in the already small cubicles after solving cases sjgjdj

Ves: i am a coworker kinnie now. if i have to hear about shuuichi's massive sexy throbbing wrinkly brain one more time i set off the fucking bombs they are communicating their affection TOO MUCH!!! GO BACK [after everyone starred it] so ur enjoyers of shuuichi's sexy brainmeat then????????

Hina: NO Shuichi Saihara is not sexy

Ves: -kokichi, in the denial phase

Dra: They call each other partner. Work and gay

Dra: They solve a really heavy case together and it impacts one of them and hurt comfort,, Points at Shu He can relive the first case tm methinks

Ves: he stumbles away from the scene and kokichi chases after to let him hide his eyes in his neck just huggin on the curb,, he doesn't want anybody to look at him :((

Dra: Can they be silly for a moment,, Kokichi tells him to close his eyes and just guides him until Shu feels better

Ves: he slaps his little babyhands over shuuichi's face "cmon, cmon, don't you trust me??"

Dra: Makes him walk into stuff for the funny/j

Apollo: Ngl, I love the 'guess we just grew up stuff' because you can angst it so fucking hard if you try hard enough

Like they always talked about ruling the world but they actually meant making a safe space for misfits like them. They wanted to change the world for the better and if at least one kid didn't have to go through what they did, it meant they'd won.

Shuichi knows this and to hear Kokichi say it was all just childish wishes? It hurts so much because Shu knows that he can help people. Hell, he's done it by becoming a detective.

Yet he gave up so easily… He's not the Kokichi he left behind that's for sure

Shuichi doesn't know how to react. Here's the guy who broke his heart (by accident mind you) who had an honestly noble dream and he just…Gave up. Kokichi Ouma gave up on something.

Now imagine this. DICE also broke up. They all decided it was time to grow up and felt they couldn't if they stayed in their silly little clown group

They have some contact with each other but have sorta drifted away like multiple friendship groups do Kokichi pretends it doesn't hurt him as much as it does

Shuichi doesn't know how to react. He can tell it hurts but he also knows Kokichi will deny it.

Theres also a tiny sick part of him that wonders if it's a good thing Kokichi is suffering at the breakup of his group because Kokichi broke his heart. Shuichi hates that part of him

LIKE A SMALL PART THINKS IT'S KARMA THEN HE WANTS TO PUNCH HIMSELF BECAUSE YEAH KOKICHI PLAYED WITH HIS FEELINGS OR WHATEVER BUT DICE WAS KOKICHI'S FAMILY AND NOW THEY'VE SPLIT UP AND KOKICHI IS THROWINFG HIMSELF INTO HIS WORK TO AN ALMOST UNHEALTHY DEGREE TO DISTRACT FROM THE LONELYNESS AND PAIN

Clown: AND PART OF HIM IS RIGHT. EVEN OUMA THINKS SO. HE KNOWS WELL ENOUGH THAT OUMA WAS ENTIRELY CAPABLE OF NOT BEING GOOD. Sometimes Ouma sucks and sometimes that has consequences. It doesn't mean he hasn't learned, but it also doesn't mean those effects went away. Ouma blames himself for a lot and somehow it hurts a bit to come to the understanding ouma's feelings aren't that far off from his own in that case They're better now tho

Apollo: They're better but it takes time Shuichi is glad that Kokichi had gotten better but those consequences are low-key permanent but at the same time, that's life Shu gives him a big hug though when he finally breaks down over it all

Clown: With ouma slowly growing distant to dice to the point where they rarely talk…I think it would partially be his own fault too.

They're family, they'll never not love each other. But they have their own lives, own goals, own families now. And so they'll never be as close as they were when the corralled behind ouma as their leader. Its a big change. And there's only so much they can do when their schedules conflict or Ouma doesn't respond to their texts.

They know Ouma, you don't spend a good chunk of your formative years together and don't learn something. And what they've learned is that ouma has to do it by himself.

He has to make the effort to reach out to them, he has to start extending his hand out to them again. They'll be waiting for when he does

Shuichi being the first push into getting him to do that and rebuild his family, its different now, but its just as good

Apollo: With Shuichi, there was no promise that he'd be coming back nor a promise he'd answer any messages but DICE? DICE was with him through thick and thin and know how his mind ticks.

They know that despite not talking to them for ages, he still cares about them.

He just doesn't want to bother them is all but thanks to reconnecting with Shuichi, he's able to reach out to them and become apart of their lives again

Ves: he's pushed himself out of his heartbroken NEET era and reconnected with shuuichi but DICE is harder DICE are divided on Shuuichi Opinions on the one hand it was super kokichi's fault they broke up. on the other SHUUICHI BROKE HIS HEART >:(

Apollo: Kokichi's right hand man eventually pulls Shu to the side to talk everything out and reminds him of how unused Kokichi is to being cared for by people other than DICE and that's why he never said 'I love you' back and just treated it like a joke. He wasn't used to be loved and still isn't in a way that's not family

Ves: "also he never got over you and if you leave him again i think he might actually die. good luck!" /J/J kokichi is so demi to me it's crazyyy he has no idea how tf to handle romantic love (or how to get over it!) it's not something that's supposed to Happen to him

Apollo: Poor Shuichi though. He got to move on and Kokichi never did

Ves: he mentions someone he dated in those intervening years and kokichi is so violently reminded of his miserable lonely NEET time that he makes up a guy

Apollo: He's just fumbling to describe this guy and Shuichi just nods along

Ves: HAHA YEAH WE BOTH HAD A LOT OF FUN HUH. LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY VERY REAL VERY SEXY EX JEFFERSON RYAN GRANT HE HAS. SKIN. AND HAIR

Apollo: "Oh and we totally did alllll the sex!" "Sure Ko."

Ves: hey so they were just in an unnamed roommates situationship before right did they even HAS KOKICHI OUMA EVER KNOWN THE TOUCH OF ANOTHER

Apollo: HE'S A NEET THE HELL DO YOU THINK? /J

Ves: HE WASN'T BEFORE HE ENTERED NEET ARC OUT OF HEARTBREAK THEY HAD A BREAKUP THAT MESSY AND DIDN'T EVEN FUCK!?

Apollo: DO YOU THINK KOKICHI 'CAN'T TELL PEOPLE MEAN IT WHEN THEY SAY THEY LOVE HIM' OUMA FUCKED SOMEONE?

Ves: this is so embarrassing for him was. was that drunk one night stand his FIRST TIME?????????

Apollo: OH GOD WAS IT? IMAGINE HIM TELLING SHU THAT YEAH WE WERE DRUNK AND YOU TOOK MY V CARD Shuichi just pauses because he knew Kokichi had becoem a NEET after he left but he somehow didn't expect this Shuichi said Let's get drunk and throw out that card /j

Me: no… I was under the full assumption that they did, and were dating, Kokichi just didn't believe Shuichi loves him & didn't say he loves him because of that, the pet name scene doesn't make sense otherwise, it was because he was thrown back to waking up together

Apollo: Me waking up every morning: How can I ruin the Pit's day today?

Me: today by trying to make Ouma a virgin, apparently, but I won't let you they fucked, I know this in my heart, it's okay of course they were fucking, they were roommates, fucking is a lot easier than talking about feelings bet they even had a situation (or multiple) when things escalated that way as to avoid talking about feelings, Kokichi kissing him so he doesn't have to reply to something

Ves: you can ABSOLUTELY have a petname for ur roommate but i see the vision actually. ouma using physical affection to avoid verbal,,,OUGH

Me: yeah, but it's about waking up together and slipping into the old act because he's done it many times it just felt so familiar to wake up this way that he said it without thinking!!!

Clown: Thinking about ouma calling one of the dices members for the first time in a long while and they don't yell at him, they aren't even disappointed. They just start immediately gushing about how wow! They have so much to talk about. And ouma has a moment where he finds they've grown so much without him realizing. He doesn't have to protect them anymore. And they're having lunch on a Saturday and a weight falls of his shoulders for the first time in a while

Apollo: Kokichi gives a wobbly smile and they ask what's wrong and he says he's so relieved they're doing so well and that he missed them. He gets teased for being a sap despite them tearing up as well One of his former classmates is also at the cafe and is just like Fuck they're back together Maki screaming internally because Kokichi knows where she works

Clown: What crimes will they commit? Maki Cafe worker real??? :0

Apollo: Kokichi makes the worst sugar riddled drinks. He just grins while requesting the worst thing ever

Clown: He can't even finish them half the time he's just doing it out of spite

#danganronpa #ndrv3 #kokichi ouma #shuichi saihara #saiouma #oumasai #kokichi oma #made by me #writing prompt #writing inspiration

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go-learn-esperanto · 1 year

Note

I must confess. I found you because I was a lot into esperanto and I'm pretty sure are the main reason I started watching MCYT. Maybe

The Esperanto content in my blog is o.o1% that's why I have to clarify this is a MCYT mostly.

I don't change URLs because I have A LOT of links that depend on my URLs to work (Like the cursed mcytblr and iconic mcytblr masterposts I have on my pinned) and those are genuinely like 200 links to posts that would have to be changed. It would also suck for archiving purposes unless I linked old and new URLs (I like to back up my blog on the Wayback machine from time to time. I actually haven't done that in a while and probably should soon).

You have to realise this blog is more than 6 years old and I haven't changed the URL once.

Anyway I'm glad to bring people into the fandom! Unfortunately the MCYT fandom gets really bad reputation and a lot of the times is because of one single person and sometimes straight up things people made up.

That's how you get so many "dsmp dni" on people's bios.

(rant):

People don't seem to realise a server isn't a person and ignore the other 20+ people that were on it (the server is over now anyway). Literally the majority of the server has distanced themselves from Dream. The main writer wasn't Dream, it was Wilbur and apparently it wasn't even Dream who paid for the server (Badboyhalo deserved better)... It's so disingenuous equating Dream to everyone. Dime people do it worse and equate ALL MCYT with Dream which is even stupider. Grian hasn't ever spoken with Dream in his life, Joe Hills roasted Dream once so hard I'm just glad not many people watched him so there weren't people attacking him on masses.

What I mean to say is that unfortunately for situations the mcytblr fandom is a lot of times powerless to change because people don't want to actually listen we don't get that many outsiders in. The MCYT usually drives a lot of people away, but I hope I can drive the idea that honestly we are here just to watch Minecraft.

Sometimes it's stories we want to see but they're just being told through the medium of Minecraft. Sometimes it's some cool technical achievement so you might like to watch redstoners or anyone who likes to break the game, sometimes you're here for the cool builds, sometimes you just enjoy the second gay Olympics (Eurovision is the first MCC is the second)... There's so much to enjoy in Minecraft and honestly people are missing out on the opportunity the game gives to just do almost anything they want.

Some people just need more Jellie in their lives

#sorry for the downer #at this point in time I prefer to just talk about the fun MCYT stuff #usually Hermitcraft #ask

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amjustagirl · 2 years

Text

chapter 14: burn away your fears

chapters: 14 / 15

pairing: miya osamu x f! reader

genre: romance / angst / fluff

word count: 5.4k

summary: miya osamu does not dare set fire to his heart. it burns anyway.

(prev / next)

A year later, it’s surprising how much things change.

Atsumu, of course, has the most dramatic change of trajectory. He announces his professional volleyball after a lightouts game against the Adlers where he wins with a setter dump and a record four dramatic aces. The stands are silent, the audience tearful when he bows to them with uncharacteristic humility, kneeling down to touch the polished wooden floors one last time before he leaves the arena. Olympic medals, V-league medals, two stints in Italy (the second one sanctioned by Kaiyo and the kids), and he closes this chapter of his life on the highest of highs.

He knows it’s difficult for Atsumu to envision what’s next because volleyball has been all he’s known from the age of eight, and gods does Atsumu mope to no end, hanging around the restaurants with a long face until he has to banish him for scaring his customers, growing more despondent after unsuccessful career talks with Meian Shugo (now, a professional sports agent), Bokuto (a junior coach), Kiyoomi (a suit in the JVA).

It’s lucky he has Kaiyo on his side.

She very shrewdly sets up a meeting with her cousin Azumi, now happily married to Sakusa Kiyoomi, a sports writer with numerous contacts in the sports media industry. A deal is cut quite quickly, because corporate sharks move in to capitalise on Atsumu’s marketability - good-looks and a charming Kansai accent with the credibility from being an Olympian. He’s booked as a commentator for both Inter High and Spring High - much to Shino’s dismay though, in her first year of high school volleyball she has to deal with her dad bawling into the microphone when her team wins a match, but it seems be a success because jobs flow in after that, and Atsumu is jetting around the world for gigs, even going viral when he’s filmed on a flight to the volleyball world championship in Rome loudly professing his love to Kaiyo to the consternation of the cabin crew who just want him to turn off his damn phone.

Shino - well, she breaks her father’s heart (an exaggeration, she’d say, with a flick of her ponytail) by taking a scholarship to Niyama Girl’s High School in Sendai instead of staying in Osaka - her uncle Hinata’s delighted because that’s Natsu’s alma mater, though Atsumu’s somewhat pleased that it puts distance between her and Meian Makoto. Not that it works, he walks in on them making out during a school break when she’s back home and Shino runs off to Kita’s farm in Hyogo to complain and give her father more heartache.

“Kids are a pain”, Atsumu whines.

“Nah, just yours. Cos they take after you.” Osamu retorts.

Shoma’s his usual self, a snack perpetually in hand, intent on learning to cook more dishes so he can feed Asami-chan whenever he visits the Kitas on their farm in Hyogo - Kaiyo and Ichika of course are planning their kids’ wedding more than a decade too early. Not much has changed other than surprising his dad by voluntarily joining volleyball as a club activity. He’s actually pretty good, for an eight year old, though it’s not settled whether he likes setting or spiking better yet.

Kaiyo’s just her usual self. Everything’s right in her world - she has no more friends to meddle with (maybe she should deal with Suna, hrm), she’s happy with her job, her family doesn’t give her too many headaches (well, other than Shino finding out that ‘Tsumu was a shit husband and dad for the first three years of her life and throwing a snit about it, the aforementioned debacle of Shino running off to Hyogo, Shoma buying tickets and nearly running off to Hyogo by himself) - okay, maybe her life isn’t exactly drama free with two madcap kids and a husband who behaves like a lovesick kid, but it’s pretty smooth sailing nonetheless. She and Ichika regularly have sleepovers (no one’s ever too old for a pyjama party with pizza) and you’re often invited along as a third of their unholy trio.

Though…you did call out of the most recent one, saying you weren’t up to it.

He chalked it up to stress from work. Your business is growing strong, though you still find the time to help out at his restaurants, despite him protesting that he doesn’t want to eat into your free time, that you should take your off days seriously, laze in bed or go out to cafes with Kaiyo or Suzuki-san, anything other than rolling up your sleeves to make batches and batches of onigiris with him and the crew.

“But you’re here, aren’t you?”

He finds himself unable to argue with that. Even though you’ve finally given in and moved into his apartment, insisting on paying rent to him (now it’s funny because you’re each other’s landlords) which he only accepts as your pre-condition to moving yourself and Kombu-chan in. He’s squirrelling that cash into a little fund for - well, he doesn’t quite know what to do with it, but he has plans that potentially involve a long holiday to Thailand and a ring.

For now, it’s nice having you to come back to every night after a long day of running the restaurants. It’s a little more crowded, a little messier - a litter box and cat bed that he trips over in the living room, a ludicrous amount of kitchen utensils and never enough space on the countertops, but it’s all the better for it. Catching each other’s eyes in the toilet mirror whilst brushing teeth and cracking up over a joke you just shared, playing tetris with a too-full fridge, babysitting Shoma and introducing him to the wonders of a blanket fort party when Kaiyo and ‘Tsumu go for their weekly pizza dates - he never thought he could be this happy so easily.

His apartment truly feels like home.

“What time are you coming back?”

A text from you isn’t amiss around this time. It’s past the lunch crush and he usually heads back to the apartment for a quick nap, since he’s usually covering the dinner shift as well. You’re often in the kitchen experimenting, drawing up the menu for the weekend, and he should find you there. But the apartment remains quiet even after he calls out a cheery tadaima, so he goes to investigate, kicking his shoes off in the genkan, padding around until he finds signs of life in the toilet.

The door is locked, but he can hear the unmistakable sound of someone emptying out their guts. Alarmed, he jiggles it open, and you just groan, head lolling against the seat.

“Hey”, he murmurs, approaching you gingerly, the way one might with a feral cat (like you and Kombu-chan, a funny coincidence).

You hug the cistern for dear life.

He picks you off the floor as if you weigh no more than a bag of rice. Wipes your mouth with a damp towel, urges you to gargle your mouth while he mixes day-old rice with the chicken stock he always has on hand in a pot, serving it to you in a bowl when it comes to a boil. You barely take three spoonfuls of it before pushing it away, claiming you’re full.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, rounding the table to kneel in front of you, taking your hands in his.

“Nothing”, you say, but it’s as unconvincing as Shoma claiming he’s not hungry when he’s staring at food with eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Shall we make an appointment to see the doctor? I think we should, if you’re not feeling well.”

“I think you should”, he argues, unconvinced. “You’ve been feelin’ so sick recently, I don’t know whether it’s been a particularly bad batch of shellfish, maybe. And lately you’ve been getting more and more tired, even though you’re going to bed early and sleepin’ in.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s something”, he stresses. “You’re clearly not well - cos you’re pukin’ and you’re tired, and I gotta be honest, you’ve been a bit moody and your back hurts even though your period hasn’t come in the past -”

Oh.

It finally clicks.

“Sweetheart”, he says gently. “Are you pregnant?”

You confirm his suspicions by breaking down, burying your face into the cradle of your arms, you bawl brokenly. “I can’t do this”, you cry. “I can’t, I - I can’t - ”

It’s not that you’ve never talked about having a family before. In truth, you’ve both left it up to chance, being lax with - well, protection, because if fate decrees it - then well, it’s meant to be. He definitely dreams of a family, made up of you and him and Kombu-chan and a kid that’s got a little bit of him and a little bit of you. And you’re so good with Shoma (he follows you around, convinced that you hold all the secrets to the kitchen in your hands), with the kids who visit the restaurant, going out of the way to add little decorations to their onigiris - a smiley face cut into the nori sheets, an extra bit of fruit sliced into stars and bunnies and hearts.

But your happiness is worth far more than any of that to him.

“It’s okay”, he says, measuring his every word. “You don’t have to have it. The baby, I mean - cos’ you’re pregnant, aren’t ya? Iif you don’t want to.” But then he trips himself to add (because the spectre of ‘Tsumu in his chaotic, storm filled years looms, large and ominous), “but if you want to have it, I’m gonna be here for you, every step of the way. It’s your choice, sweetheart, and I’ll support whatever it is you choose.”

It just makes you sob harder. There’s nothing he can do but rub circles into the small of your back until you hiccup into his shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay”, he says, because really, what else can he say? “It’s okay.”

But it isn’t okay because you keep him at a distance over the next couple of days, even though you cancel the next few engagements you have to hole up in bed, your eyes red and puffy, and you refuse to eat more than a few bites of all the treats he offers in an attempt to lure you out of the fort you’ve built with all the pillows and blankets you have at home.

He waits, not because he’s a patient man by nature, but because he knows that burns hurt, raw and red. Rushing back to the kitchen before the memory scabs over will leave one too scared to approach the roaring flames in the stove. And if you need time to consider the implications of how your life might change, ponder your choices, weigh what you want your future to hold, you have every right to.

He’ll wait for you. He’ll support whatever decision you make.

(even if he dreams and hopes of you and him and well - it’s not his choice to make)

He waits until you stick a hand out of your blanket fort, fumbling around in the dark to grasp his hand, doesn’t say a word until you croak, staring up at the ceiling, counting the cracks.

“I can’t do it. I don’t know how to.”

“Neither do I”, he admits, though he burns to add that he’ll try, gods does he want to try with you.

“I’ll be a terrible mother”, you say. “I don’t know how to keep a kid alive. Do I feed it rice? What if I drop it? What if I start resenting the kid for hijacking my life - I mean, it’s literally a parasite isn’t it, at this point? What if - I don’t know, I mean - my parents weren’t exactly great - and what if, what if my kid ends up unhappy, I wouldn’t know how to make a kid happy, what do I do - what do I do -”

“I’m scared too.”

Your grip tightens. “Yeah”, you exhale.

He waits for your breath to even out to unearth you from your hiding hole, removing each pillow from your carefully constructed tower, brick by brick before wrapping himself against your back, arm over your sternum. “It’s okay to be scared.”

You only hiccup.

“But”, again, he chooses his words with care, mindful not to imply that it’s anything but your choice. “Whatever you choose to do, you don’t have to be brave by yourself.”

Again, you hiccup. “And if I chose to have it? A baby, I mean.”

“Then I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

His heart leaps, skips a beat, then two and he almost forgets to breathe when you laugh, a watery sound but a laugh nonetheless.

“You’re a brave man to promise that, Miya Osamu.”

“Not as brave as you”, he replies, because it’s true.

Having courage doesn’t have to mean going out into the great, wide world, performing bold, dashing feats of heroism. It’s as simple as putting one foot in front of the other day after day without letting your fears and insecurities chase you back into your safe hiding place. Life can be hard as fuck sometimes, and it’s so easy to lose sight of your dreams and passions, but you’re trying your best to leave your ghosts behind, overcome everything that’s been placed in your way and by gods, does he love you for it.

So it just seems like the right time, a week later, to get down yet again on his knees before you, a box with a gold ring inside instead of a bowl of porridge. “Marry me”, he says, the entire speech he’s prepared for the occasion flying out of his head, all he can think of is here and now and there’s nothing he wants so much as to solidify that you and him and the baby and kombu-chan are a family.

His family.

You ruffle his hair with a rueful smile. “You shouldn’t propose just cos’ because a baby’s on the way.”

He’s startled into a laugh. “D’you seriously think I’m proposin’ cos of the baby?”

“...Yeah?”

“Nah. That’s not why I’m proposing.”

He gathers you into his arms, meets your frown of confusion with a kiss on top of your nose.

“I love you. I’m proposin’ cos I’m greedy and I wanna make sure I can tell everyone that you and Kombu-chan and that baby in your belly is my family.”

You push him away, gaining some space between you and him. “Why me?”

“Why you?” he echoes. “It’s always gonna be you. There’s never been anyone for me but you.”

Your frown deepens. “But…I’m just me.”

“That’s right”, he tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re you. And that’s all I want.”

There’s a smile creeping onto your face, spring sunshine after a long, dark winter. “That’s not answering my question.”

“You want me to give you a list of reasons why I wanna marry you?” You tweak his nose, and he thinks that means yes. “You’re brave, even though there’s so much to be scared about. You’re kind, even though life is hard and the world can be a shit place full of shittier people. You’re smart and gorgeous and funny and patient and all of you makes me wanna be a braver, better man so I can catch up with you and be by your side.”

“Sweet talker”, you poke his side.

“Well, you asked”, he chuckles. “So, how ‘bout it?”

“How about what?”

“Sweetheart”, he groans. “You’re killin’ me.”

A few beats pass, the longest pause in his life, where he’s waiting and hoping at the crossroads for you. But then you take the box out of his hand. With shaking hands, you slide the ring onto your fourth finger, a shimmer of gold in the shadows.

“You make me happy, Miya Osamu.”

He takes your hand, the hand with his ring on it. He wants to tell you that he’ll keep trying his best to make you happy, because you’ve made him the happiest man of earth by agreeing to be his family (you, kombu-chan and the baby in your belly), but there’s a tidal wave of emotion that swells in a rush of salt and water in his eyes, tears that you wipe away with a tender smile.

You take his hand, humming a tuneless melody as you dance in the kitchen, laughing like children as you trip over each other’s feet in an uncoordinated waltz. Heedless to the world spinning off its axis, crashing and burning. He has you and Kombu-chan and the baby and as long as the lot of you are headed in the same direction together (a family), then he’s happy. He has all that he wants.

He sets fire to his heart, lets it flare bright in the blue dawn sky.

It is not a lie. It is not a dream.

You are happy. So incredibly, impossibly happy that you have to pinch yourself to convince yourself that it’s real, this is your life. Like champagne bubbles that pop, you have to savour every sip. “D’you think grillin’ these onigiris will counterbalance the sweet glaze?” Osamu asks when you wander out of the bedroom, long after the sun hangs in the sky.

“You can always try”, you offer, still groggy as you slip into a seat by the breakfast counter.

“Eat up”, he passes you a plate full of onigiris and pork bone soup and pickles and - when did he get up to get all of this ready - “You and the kid needs feedin’.”

“Osamu”, you murmur. He drops everything to pay attention to your every word, leaning his full weight on the countertop.

“What’s wrong?”

You’re not sure if it’s the raging hormones, or the fact that you’re just overwhelmed by how happy and content you are, but you’re suddenly overcome with the need to weep and belly laugh and tell Osamu how he’s made you so, so ridiculously, uncharacteristically giddy, that you do all of the above.

“Hey, no - sweetheart, c’mere. Why’re you cryin? Was it somethin’ wrong my big mouth said?”

You let him gather you into his lap, rocking you as if you’re the baby (and not the one growing one), hiccuping and crying and giggling and - yes, you’re definitely going insane - it’s too much but not too much at the same time.

“I’m - I’m too happy, ‘Samu - and we have a wedding to plan!”

The tense line of his shoulder relaxes. He presses a kiss to your hairline, smoothing out the wrinkles in your brow. You can feel the curve of his smile grow against your cheek.

“There’s no such thing as too happy, sweetheart. And don’t worry ‘bout the wedding. Leave everything to me.”

That was what he intended.

But leave to Kaiyo to have everything in hand when she finds out that not only are you pregnant, you also need a wedding planned, stat. It’s not that either of you made a big announcement, wanting to wait until you were at least twelve weeks along, but she deduces it for herself when you religiously avoid any alcohol or raw food at your next izakaya get-together, even asking to meet somewhere which bans indoor smoking.

She swings herself (and Ichika) into full wedding prep mode with so much enthusiasm he has to tell her to calm herself down, because she whips out her old Shiromuku kimono that both she and Ichika wore to their weddings and starts chattering about making arrangements at the Miya family shrine, the traditional wedding venue where she and Atsumu got married more than a decade ago -

“We were thinkin’ of gettin’ married at Kita’s farm instead.”

Ichika squeals and calls Shinsuke immediately. Kaiyo just gives him a small smile of understanding.

There are too many parallels between him and Atsumu as it is.

A baby before a wedding - of course, it’s not quite an accident since you and he left the question of a baby to chance, and it wouldn’t be the whoopsy daisy accident that Shin-chan was to ‘Tsumu and Kaiyo, both on the cusp of starting their careers. And a wedding that’s accelerated because a baby’s on the way - not that he needed to be walloped on the nose to marry, gods he can’t wait, but still, but still, he’s not the foolish, selfish Atsumu of yesteryear.

“You’ll make a great dad.”

Shoma’s over in the kitchen with you, eight years old and holding a knife without any fear whatsoever, producing neat, evenly sized slices of fish that even adults would be hard pressed to do. Atsumu’s ‘hanging out’ with him - though that’s just a euphemism for crash my brother’s shop and bug him to make a load of fatty tuna onigiris for me.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence”, he replies, tone drier than that awful pitcher of sake Gintama produced in his backyard.

“You’re welcome”, Atsumu says cheerfully, gobbling up yet another onigiri. “You’re damn good with Sho-chan, he probably wants to hang out with you more than he does with his dear old dad-”

“Because I always have food and that kid thinks with his stomach-”

“And Shin-chan comes to the restaurant to mope whenever she has a bad game - ”

“Reminds me of a certain someone, huh.”

“The point is”, Atsumu swallows a mouthful of rice. “Thanks, y’know? For steppin’ in and helpin’ with my kiddos and Kaiyo even though you didn’t need to. And now it’s your turn. You’re gonna do great.”

You don’t need to thank me, he wants to tell his twin. Cos you’d do the exact same for me.

But it’s two o’clock in the afternoon and he’s not about to reach into the well of his emotional depths. “You’re just laughin’ that I’ll be having sleepless nights with night feeds in my old age.”

Atsumu gets it though. He always does.

“I mean, I’ll help whenever I can! Commentating for games means my hours are kinda chill now, so -”

Osamu pinches the bridge of his nose. “If your ‘helpin’ means teachin’ the baby to set with frozen grapes, then I’d much rather not, thank you.”

Strangely enough, his twin does not take offence. He just remains seated, placidly sipping his miso soup, whereas if Osamu’d said that exact thing to him (save the commentating - that’s a recent career move following retirement), he’d have been at the risk of being severely throttled, ‘cos ‘Tsumu’s a hothead like that. Osamu squints at him. Old age perhaps (but that means he’s old too, and he’s not). Or maybe fatherhood has finally mellowed him out (a more probably explanation, cos parenting Shin-chan would tire anyone out - she’s like ‘Tsumu but female and with Kaiyo’s smarts, a lethal combination).

“Why’re you starin’ at me like that?”

If he shares what exactly is flitting through his mind, he’s definitely in for a beating, and it’s too late in the afternoon for that. “Nothin’”, he mutters.

Thankfully, Atsumu’s attention is diverted by the last onigiri on the plate. Or at least, that’s what Osamu thinks because when Atsumu wipes his plate clean, he’s still oddly quiet, whereas typically, he’d be chattering about the mundane shit that happens throughout his day or week - like the fact that he pissed Sakusa-san off during a recent tournament by pointing him out as a former teammate on camera, even though he’s no longer a professional (but it’s Omi-Omi! Even if he is a stuffy suit with the JVA, he’s still one of the best spikers ever!) or when he interviewed Shin-chan before Spring High and asked if she plans to win, as is the Miya family way and promptly got embarrassed, because she pointed out that Inarizaki never took home the title with them (I mean it’s true, but she has NO TACT), never mind that’s exactly how Atsumu himself would have responded as a cocky fifteen year old.

But now, Atsumu is oddly quiet. The calm before the storm.

“What’s with you?” Osamu asks, impatient.

Atsumu takes his own sweet time to reply. Takes far too many beats, as if he’s considering his words which he’s probably never done in his entire life.

“D’you think we’re livin’ up to Oto-san’s standards?”

Osamu promptly takes a swig of Gintama’s sake from a flask he hides under the counter for when he encounters a stream of tough customers and requires a break. “Woah. That’s way too deep for two thirty in the afternoon.”

Atsumu throws back in his head and laughs. “I guess he’s probably just relieved that I didn’t end up gettin’ kicked out by Kaiyo. He’d be proud of you though.”

It’s not the alcohol that burns the back of his throat. “You think so?” Osamu croaks.

“I don’t think it, I know it”, Atsumu pronounces with the cheesiest grin ever, and he’s about to reach over and slap it off his face when he realises that there are cracks in the facade, a dull shine in his twin’s eyes that telegraphs regret, guilt perhaps.

As much as he shits on Atsumu’s past transgressions, he’s more than made up for it - at least vis a vis the kids. He’s attended every single game of Shino’s that he’s humanly able to, rushing from practice to sit at the stands and yell encouragement after every spike, successful or unsuccessful, so vociferously that she’s tried to ban him from her games until he learns some semblance of volume control (imagine her horror when her FATHER is the commentator for Spring High). For Shoma - he’s never once expressed any jealousy that the little boy prefers hanging out in the kitchen with him, buying child-appropriate kitchen utensils and watching umpteenth youtube videos about cooking and food for the kid, even worriedly checking if Sho-chan’s really, truly, one hundred and twenty per cent sure that he wants to join volleyball as a club activity in elementary school (I didn’t want him to feel like he had to play volleyball cos I did, he explained).

“I think you’re a good dad too.”

Atsumu sniffles. “If I’m ever a bad dad, make sure you punch me.”

“Happy to.” But even as Osamu rolls his eyes, he adds. “And if I’m ever a bad dad to my kid -”

“I’d be happy to break your nose.”

“Don’t sound so happy when you say that, it’s gross.”

“Sho-chan”, Osamu hears you chime in from the kitchen, airily light but with a hint of steel. “Please don’t listen to your ‘to-san or ‘ji-san when they talk about breaking people’s noses, okay? If we’re going to nourish people with our cooking, we shouldn’t harbour thoughts about hurting them.”

“I broke ‘Tsumu’s nose ‘cos he was a jerk to Kaiyo.”

“Yep.” Atsumu confirms. “Definitely deserved that.”

You shake your head. “You are both good fathers, despite your penchant for violence. Sho-chan, make sure you don’t learn from them. I’m sure your Okaa-san would agree with me.”

Shoma pipes up. “‘Ka-san told me to kick anyone who says cookin’ is for girls. They’re wrong. Cooking’s for everyone.”

You look horrified, especially when Osamu nods his head approvingly at Shoma. Atsumu just guffaws.

Thankfully, you’re still willing to marry him despite your horror at the Miya family’s penchant for violence. The entire Miya family decamps to the Kitas’ farm, much to the delight of Kaiyo and Shoma, the guesthouse is bursting the seams with wedding guests - the entire Inarizaki team, the Onigiri Miya crew, your adopted Thai aunties you kept in contact with and their families, even Nishinoya Yu - he remembers him as the libero Atsumu targeted the first time they played Karasuno (it almost bowled him over to find out that you ran into him in Chiang Mai, what even are the odds of that!).

Much of the day before the wedding is spent catching up with his old classmates - heck, even Aran flies back for the wedding despite coaching duties in the States, and a very rowdy afternoon is spent reminiscing about their school days over pints of beer, before everyone convenes for dinner, the spread prepared by you and your Thai aunties - curries and fruit salads, salt grilled fish cooked over an open fire. His crew will take over for the wedding lunch tomorrow as their wedding present to him. With all the chefs in attendance for this wedding, everyone’s stomachs will be kept very, very full.

Shoma even gets in on the action, volunteering to wake up early with Asami-chan and Obaa-chan to cook porridge for breakfast tomorrow morning, before everyone will make their way to the village shrine. A simple ceremony conducted by the Shinto priests, taking three sips of sake (alcohol free for you), before celebration over lunch back on the farm. From the sound of murmuring between Morita, Ishida and Miyamura, it seems like they have no plans for lunch to stop anytime before supper, so it’s going to be a raucous, all-day feast, for sure. And between speeches by Atsumu and Kaiyo, Suzuki-san and Kita, it’s going to be a long, long day.

Luckily it’s summer, where the days stretch past the horizons, the season of love. “You should look for your bride, make sure she hasn’t run away yet”, Suna says without bite. So he takes his leave from his friends, finding you under the forsythia shrub, sheltering from the multitude of well wishers and the summer heat.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Too much”, you groan. “People keep trying to feed me. And Kaiyo and Ichika had this weird competition in the kitchen that they made me the judge of, where they’re trying to deep fry the weirdest things in a vat of oil - which is made even more ridiculous by the fact that it’s summer and it’s boiling hot.”

“Judgmental?”

“You try eating deep fried kimchi stuffed in a bittergourd - “

“I’ll pass, thanks”, he laughs, shuddering as he plops down on the grass beside you.

You both fall silent, listening as the cicadas chirp, the evening breeze whistling through the wheat fields. Birds sing to each other, calling each other home as they wheel about in crazed circles in the still bright sky.

“I was wondering”, you say conversationally. “Whether my parents would be proud of me now.”

He stiffens but you don’t seem to notice, or perhaps you do and continue anyway, chuckling to yourself.

“I have the feeling that they’d be horrified at what I’ve done. Shutting down the restaurant, spitting in years of tradition by changing up family recipes, getting pregnant before getting married - I’d probably get disowned. They’ll probably even pretend that I don’t even exist. And I used to wonder why - everyone else seemed to have parents who cared, parents who didn’t force their own expectations and dreams on them - and I just didn’t. And I spent years trying to get over it, hating what I was trained to do, aiming low out of spite even though really, it only affected myself.”

Your voice cracks.

“It’s the night before my wedding and I hate that I’m still worrying about my parents even though they’re long dead.”

“Does it matter what they think?” he asks. “Look at how far you’ve come despite them.”

There’s no use railing at ghosts. Death takes them beyond the veil, leaving behind ash and bone and a trail of troubled memories, nothing else. To his relief, the corner of your mouth quirks upwards, not quite a smile, but far from a frown.

“You’re right”, you reply. “I’m lucky to be where I am, right now.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing great.”

“Of course you’d say that, you’re marrying me tomorrow.”

“Yeah”, he breathes, suddenly giddy. “Definitely doin’ great.”

He’s still on a high when you laugh and kiss him good night, hardly able to drift off to sleep between his excitement for tomorrow and Suna’s snoring, and it’s remiss of him, but he almost, almost forgets this conversation amidst the sheer joy that simmers in his heart long after you exchange vows to be each other’s forever, your gathered family and friends erupting into whoops and cheers once outside the solemn Shinto shrine, the party lasting late into the night until everyone nearly collapses from too much food.

“We’re married”, you whisper, lying back on the grass.

“We’re married”. He echoes almost in disbelief, hand in yours.

Even with the glow of lights from the farm, there’s a glimmer of starlight in the violet-dusk sky. Fireflies dance over the sea of flowers in bloom, the wheatfields singing in the wind.

“I’m happy, ‘Samu”, you say, unbidden. “I’m happy.”

He grips your hand tight. There’s no need to say what you already know.

a/n: we are finally, finally within sight of the end :) hope you guys like this chapter!

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x you #miya osamu

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