#there are so many moments when he's like “I need to help/I should have helped” and it destroys me

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Do you know who Yuu is canonically close to? Like who actually considers themselves to be friends or at least close with Yuu and willingly interacts with them. I'm sorry if this sounds rude because I know people have their own yuusonas and headcannons but I'm just curious.

In order to respond to this question, I will primarily be referring to the main story. Voice lines are not going to be considered because a lot of them are primarily aimed at the player and serve as fanservice, which does not accurately reflect the character's relationship with them in the main story canon. Events and vignettes do indicate character relationships, but are not technically "canon" to the main story. However, I will bring up examples from these, as while these may not fit in a coherent main story timeline, the lore presented in them is still very sound. Yuu appears to be canonically close with the first years, although their closest allies among this group are Ace, Deuce, and Grim. The first years are seen partying at the end of Terror is Trending as a group, stake out Mickey Mouse + hang out at Lilia's farewell party in book 7 together, band together to help Ortho determine a club to join in his College Gear vignette, and help Ortho research the concept of "evolution" for Fairy Gala: What If. Yuu is obviously very close with Ace and Deuce, seeing as they share the same homeroom, eat lunch together, and have gone through many dangerous situations with one another (several OB battles being the main one). They think of each other when one of them isn't included, either! For example, in White Rabbit Fest, Deuce invited Ace to join them (but Ace couldn't due to basketball practice). So Deuce decides to buy him a souvenir instead! Ace extends an invitation to Deuce to join him for Playful Land. And do I even need to bring up the end of book 4 where those two bozos take a long and convoluted trip from the Queendom of Roses to Sage's Island DURING WINTER BREAK to check up on Yuu after receiving a SOS text from them??? Or their tearful reunion at the end of book 6??

Grim is also a very important friendship for Yuu. They are, of course, the first person Yuu meets upon their arrival in Twisted Wonderland, as well as one of their roommates. He's almost always with them, for better or for worse. Yuu is shown to be hurt when Grim attacks them at the end of book 5 and worries for his wellbeing. In fact, the very first time Yuu blatantly acts against Crowley's orders (to stay put) is to rescue Grim in book 6 after he was captured by Ferrymen.

Some honorable/"up for debate" mentions go out to:

"The nice guys" (Rook, Kalim, Silver, etc.) - They're nice to everyone, but not particularly close with Yuu specifically; it should be noted that Kalim, Lilia, and Silver all have called Yuu their "friend" in dialogue. Trey and Riddle - I think it could be said that Yuu is closer to Heartslabyul than the other dorms (partly because two of their closest friends are from this dorm), but I don't know if they're actually "friends"? Yes, Yuu does walk around with Riddle and Trey in book 5 to check out the culture fair. Yes, Trey did send sweets over with Adeuce at the start of their training camp. But I never actually see Riddle and Trey going out of their way to casually hang out with Yuu or anything like that. They seem very... "business professional" with Yuu to me. Malleus - I might catch some heat for saying this, but I don't believe Malleus and Yuu are as close as people think they are or want them to be. Do they talk consistently throughout the main story? Sure, but the exchanges are kind of short and usually don't amount to them sharing a lot. Does Malleus help Yuu out? Absolutely, especially in books 3 and 5. It doesn't mean they're necessarily close; every character gets moments where they pitch in. The nickname thing serves as a necessary filler because Malleus refuses to give his real name; it arguably is not a sign of intimacy (especially given that Grim came up with the name, not Yuu). I can see a point being made in Malleus sending a holiday card for Yuu in book 4 and Yuu returning the gesture with a VDC/SDC pass in book 5 (though this could also be viewed as transactional or tit for tat). Think about the main story timeline to put this all into perspective. It's been roughly 6 months since the start of the school year and Malleus and Yuu have only really had brief direct interactions like MAYBE 4 or 5 times total. Yuu doesn’t go over to speak with Malleus upon their return from S.T.Y.X. HQ in book 6; they’re focused solely on their reunion with Adeuce and Grim. They don't have other means of communication (like each others' phone numbers, which Adeuce do have, as seen in book 4) and they don't ever hang out outside of these mandated interactions. Yuu doesn't even learn their name properly until book 5, which is in FEBRUARY. And, unlike Yuu's friendships with Adeuce and Grim, Malleus's friendship relies a lot on self-projection. Whereas it's clear that the friendship between Yuu and the idiot trio is mutual, it feels very one-sided with Malleus. Like, Malleus seems more invested in it than Yuu is. He's the one thinking of them on holiday break; Yuu doesn’t think of him on holiday break. They think of Malleus only in like early book 7 when Ortho asks if they know any fae, and it’s for a personal reason too (helping them find a way home).

Yuu's closeness with Malleus is left vaguely defined so the player can insert whatever their own feelings about him are into the scenario. They speak with him in a casual tone, yet they never go out of their way to actually invite him to functions or ask questions to learn more about him. Yuu doesn’f even seem to be that torn up about going back home and never seeing Malleus again. This is not the case with Adeuce and Grim; Yuu has dialogue options which imply they would miss their company. Yuu feels so… detached from Malleus; he at best feels like an amicable (?) acquaintance, but not a friend.

[zombzomb]

tw: nsfw, suggestive, bondage, edging, food problems, sickness, spanking

i’m so drawn to bdsm power dynamics because i’m always so focused on so many different things that the idea of someone being in charge of taking care of me is so appealing. the simple act of having to pick something to eat will put me off from eating altogether, but having someone there to say “this is what you’re gonna eat” or “this is what you’re going to buy” is so comforting to me.

i bring this up, because i totally see the 141 doing this in their own ways. ☺️

john helping you with habit building and getting seemingly impossible tasks done. you wanna be up at 6 am, but can’t find the will to walk to the bathroom to do your skincare or basic hygiene routine before the cold air pushes you back under the covers. so john’s got a warm drink (tea/coffee/hot chocolate/etc.) and your misplaced slippers waiting for you to get to the bathroom via him carrying you, avoiding the evil cold hardwood floors. can’t find it in yourself to do this one uni assignment? he’ll stop by your desk for scheduled breaks with snacks, drinks, and head, with a thorough fucking promised by the end should you finish your work.

simon is always going to be there to make sure you aren’t ignoring your mental health. he has a sixth sense for when you are overwhelmed and trying to push through it and act normal, or for when you’re not getting your hunger cues or whatnot. he won’t say anything or bring direct attention to it, knowing it might break the dam and exhaust you, but simon will bring things that he knows will comfort you or ask you to help him relax with a good cuddle (sneaky man). but he also knows when you’re already overflowing; that gentle comfort is not going to help. thus, he turns to tying you up in pretty rope and fucking you until all you feel is his cock and pleasure.

kyle definitely is helping with self care and confidence, especially if you’re a fellow BIPOC. he definitely knows a lot about hair (sidebar, imagine him being the oldest with a bunch of mixed-race siblings 😭), skin, nutrition, and overall just taking care of yourself. get sick? no worries, kyle has a recipe from his ma that will take care of that and knows just how to make you feel less gross by the end of it. want to go to the gym? don’t worry, he’ll make a work out plan for you both to do! nervous about fucking up a really important presentation? easy, he’ll slip a remote vibrator into you for all the practice runs and randomly turning it on, edging you until you get through it without even breaking a sweat.

johnny being your enforcer by gently encouraging you to be more adventurous and holding you accountable. always want to go to a club, cafe, or beach, but never do because of the planning or prep you feel like you have to do? no worries, johnny has already packed what you need in your bag and/or car, and he’s also ready if you need him to come with you as an extra push. he will notice the moment you are struggling with making executive decisions and jump right in to help. and if you struggle with making rules for yourself, resulting in you procrastinating your work, he’s got that covered to. he knows very well how to be stern and provide consequences, whether that’s making you watch something that will give you intense secondhand embarrassment, doing the dishes, or getting a not-so-fun spanking that leaves your ass bright red and aching for days.

[a-tired-human-draws-junk]

LU Four headcanons + Minish cap thoughts

EDIT: HELP I DIDNT MEAN TO POST THIS YET💀 fuck it we ball

So I've been playing minish cap and I'm having a great time it's so fucking whimsical and lovely everybody ever should play it right now but it made me realise how little?? Minish cap stuff gets mentioned in linked universe??? like where is my funny little figurine collection I spent thousands of shells on, where is my cute minish lore, where is my cane of pacci, where are my KINSTONES!!!

Anyways this is basically me nerding out over Minish cap and sharing my new silly little thoughts on Four (and spreading my new knowledge to the fic writers please there is so much untapped potential here you dont understand😭)

I've never done this before so bare w me

Starting w KINSTONES

So much of this is kinstones why does nobody talk about them I've read hundreds of LU fics and did not even know they existed till I played minish cap

I think Four has just SO. MANY. KINSTONES.

He just has a bag of random kinstone pieces on him at all times

Imagine the chain all sitting around the fire one day and fours like "anybody wanna match kinstones?" And the others stare at him like... "bro what is even that 😭"

Another funny idea, he just goes through his bag and starts trying to match the pieces he has, one actually works and a chest just appears next to the chain and four is like "aw hell yeah that's some good luck"

Everybody else "four how did you just SUMMON TREASURE"

"Got lucky :]"

Imagine hes not even really known as a hero in his home town but as the kinstone guy��

They go to Fours hyrule and little kids will just come up to him like ",,kinstone,,?" And he will just whip out the biggest bag of kinstone pieces and grab the exact one needed to match

It's like a magic trick

Desperately need some good luck? Talk to the kinstone guy hes gotchu

Imagine the colors all get their own bags

He just has four bags of kinstones at all times (maybe five if they have a community pile)

(There are more at home)

Also animals? Can have kinstones?? I feel there is comedy potential in that

Four has a collection of silly little figurines he paid thousands of mysterious shells for and I need somebody to talk about it

He has over A HUNDRED SILLY LITTLE FIGURINES

I dont know what to do with this knowledge but it is important to me that people know that

Cane of pacci.

CANE OF PACCI

Please its concept is so fucking funny people need to use it more.

(I've seen it a few times but NOT ENOUGH!!)

Imagine dink shows up and gives an evil monologue and everyone is having an intense stare down and four just discreetly grabs his cane and zaps dink w it and he just fucking flips upside down smacks his head on the ground and passes out

LIKE PLEASE ITS SO FUNNY I LOVE IT

Theres a hole in the ground and he just zaps it and jumps in and rolls around and fucking flings himself into the air

I've seen so many fics where Four can just shrink down at will and that's fine I like em but in game you have to use minish portals and it's a whole thing

And I've seen people utilizing portals which I love

But I need more funny moments so

In game they are so very inconvenient and some are so fucking funny to me

Four just walks into a house flips this beautiful, giant vase, upside down jumps on top and becomes smol

Like??😭 going into people houses and breaking their pots is a link tradition but just... flipping one upside down is for some reason incredibly hilarious to me

Or running head first into a tree using pegasus boots to reveal a portal

Somebody do something w these portals they are so incredibly good

Also piccori are SMALL

They are TINY

When I imagined the minish I was picturing a lil guy the size of my thumb maybe a little smaller

NO

THESE BITCHES THINK ACORNS ARE BIG!!

THEY ARE SO INCREDIBLY TINY!

MINISCULE!

I dont know what to do with that I just desperately needed to share

Imagine the picori lore potential yall

I've seen a few good ones but I NEED MORE LITTLE GUYS

Fours hyrule has a whole lotta beliefs and traditions about the minish me thinks

I mean they already have a festival about them

So imagine-

They find chips on the walls of their homes that are neatly shaped and nicely trimmed and they leave them, they take it as good luck, the picori are staying here

You see many of such spots in someone's home and you take them as kind, the picori stay with them

I think they abide by leaving picori paths

Random small planks connecting homes and making paths too small to walk are left where they are

If a plank starts decaying they leave a similar sized one nearby and the next day find the old one replaced and a kinstone lying nearby

If your flower pots neatly lined in a row suddenly have a small gap between two, keep it, the picori are passing by here

I think they make spaces in their homes for them

I think Four would go out of his way to leave space for the picori in his

Maybe he makes little houses he keeps in his yard or on a shelf or on the rafters or all of the above

Maybe he leaves out food in odd places and when it disappears he finds treasures somewhere nearby

He basically has a whole neighborhood of minish living in and around his house

I think Four has actually learned minish

Like yes he used the jabbernut to understand them initially but I think he went out of his way to properly learn it

And there are canonically different dialects, lil tidbit courtesy of Ezlo, so maybe hes learned multiple versions of minish

Imagine the funny moments where he just fucking starts saying smth in minish like "pico pipi pori co" and the chain stare at him and he just stares back like 'what?' "WHAT DOES PICOROCOPOIPO MEAN,??"

Hes just spent too much time as a tiny guy

[fyxestroll]

Whose Problem Is It When the Primarchs Fall in Love? Pt.2

note: posting this during class because im school is making me lose my mind :>

Unnamed Primarch #11 - Had a relationship so healthy Emps got jealous and deleted them from existence.

Angron - Theoretically it should be everyone’s problem but in practice, it’s mainly Angron’s. Like everything in his life, Angron falling in love is a tragedy; there are no good scenarios, no good endings. The Butcher’s Nails have robbed him of many things including the whirlwind of emotions that came with falling in love being replaced by pain, so much pain. There are so many what-ifs, could-have-been and should-have-beens with Angron that in another life—one kinder to him, you just know that he would love you with all of himself. 

Guilliman - He joins Jaghatai in the no-ones problem club. He handles falling in love well, there’s no unbearable pining or disastrous courting ideas. Internally, though, he hesitates from time to time because of the weight he carries on his shoulders. He dreams of retirement, of a simple life and that dream involves falling in love too but he’s far from retirement, far from that simple life. There’s always that nagging thought that his pursuit of you would have you be put into harm's way.

Mortarion - It’s his problem and it makes him miserable. When Mortarion falls in love he expects to be rejected almost immediately. He expects to be hated, to be seen as disgusting. This leads to him avoiding you because despite expecting it, he can’t bear to handle that sort of rejection. Still, he pines from a distance. If Mortarion’s feelings for you are requited then good luck its a never-ending game of hide and seek with his man. 

Magnus the Red - It’s your problem. Have you ever had that one smart classmate that goes ‘oh i didn’t review’ after getting a perfect score and its obvious they said that because they want to be praised? Well, that’s Magnus. He wants your attention and he wants your approval. Praise him, tell him how smart he is, keep up with his genius. Oh, this man can be perceived as so damn annoying and the worst part is that he doesn’t even realise it. When he falls in love, he looks for an equal in tht person.  He wants someone who can keep up with him, someone he can bounce off ideas with but he winds up expressing it in a way that unintentionally insults your intelligence. He’s like a pretentious peacock with the way he’s showing off his mastery of the warp. To have requited feelings for this man means being the most patient and understanding person in the whole galaxy.

Horus - It’s your problem. Like with Magnus you’d need a lot of patience with this man. Horus is like a big bald frat boy and when he pines his frat legion is right behind him. If the Space Wolves are singing kiss the girl the Luna Wolves are doing that with fireworks. Its endearing but so much so that it loops back to being cringe. Not even Horus’ Primarch charisma can help them on that one. Either way, whether you fall for him or not there's just this nagging feeling that something is about to go wrong at any moment.

Lorgar - Three your problems in a row lfg!!! Love for Lorgar is both spiritual happiness and guilt so when he falls in love he feels both. Worse, is that when Lorgar falls in love, he falls in LOVE. His emotions for you are intense and all-encompassing resulting in Lorgar deifying you and feeling immense guilt at what he feels as he feels that his feelings for you is him being corrupted in some way. It’s intense, it’s toxic and unless you’re into that it's your problem.

 Vulkan - He’s the president of the no-one’s-problem club. The OG in-touch with his emotions guy. The closest thing he’d have a problem with is that he looks intimidating as hell so if you aren’t close to him or don’t know him well you might be intimidated but that’s nothing a little quality time with him can’t fix! 

Corvus Corax - It’s his problem but he handles it better than most of the Primarchs on this list. He's well-adjusted enough to go with the flow but the insecurity is still there. He knows that under his skin he’s not exactly human and whether or not you are just the slightest bit aware of a Primarch’s true nature it kills him. Still, out of hypocrysy selfishness, he attempts to pursue you, hesitating every step of the way. Don’t be surprised if he ghosts you for days and then comes back badly trying to pretend like nothing happened.

Alpharius Omegon - It’s their problem (????) Alpharius and Omegon come as a packaged pair in just about anything including love, at least initially. They’re technically the same person but they’re still at their core individuals of the slightest variations so when they fall in love they need to be acknowledged as an individual by that person. It’s messy, internal and highlights the hairline cracks in the twins’ relationship. You don’t know that any of this is happening all you know is that Alpharius likes you.

[kkentobox]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his tender loving! w/ jschlatt.

description: having a loud online persona, most assume your new york man is a hassle to keep around. there was no need to prove them otherwise, his gentle love was all yours.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀tags: fluff! sappy & soft schlatt, female reader!

authors note: i fell back in love with him after not watching his content for a good year, so i couldn’t help myself ^_^ reblogs & likes are always appreciated <3

⠀⠀recording days always amused you. you had very little information of who jay was before you had begun dating, so anytime you were in his home while he was recording; it surprised you. he was known to be very loud, cocky of who he was and how much he made. his charming humor would remain, but everything else always made you want to witness the scene up close.

with his booming laughter echoing the halls, you found comfort in the noise from your place in the living room. mindlessly scrolling through your phone while you patiently waited for his recording to end. quietness began to seep through the house, ultimately letting you know he had finally wrapped everything up. being under the same roof yet being separated for hours, excitement began to bubble in you as you awaited for him to find you.

as you predicted, jay had found you on the couch wearing nothing but shorts that left nothing to the imagination and one of his many sweaters. “you finished early, should i be expecting a good check soon?” you smiled through your teasing question as your arms opened up, needing him to lay on top of you to feel his warmth. “mhm, we’ll be getting you a yacht for the summer in no time, baby.”

having found his way into your arms, jay wasted no time in placing his warm hands underneath the sweater to hold onto your waist. his face snuggling into your neck, soft giggles could be heard from you as his facial hair tickled the sensitive skin causing him to chuckle in return. with your fingers twirling the ends of his hair, “you should keep cutting your hair like this. .” a whisper broke through. humming against your neck, “yeah? why’s that?” his tender voice being reserved just for you, he leaned his head back just enough to look at your face. his eyes gently tracing the features your face holds, features he’s grown to love oh so dearly. from the little crinkles of your eyes when you smile to the way your nose twitches when he can’t resist placing a kiss on it. “you have little curls in the front when you keep it this length, i like em’.”

and with that reasoning alone, he knew he would keep his hair like this forever. “i’ll do it just for you.” planting a kiss to your jaw led to many aggressive kisses being planted everywhere. people called it cuteness aggression, you were a victim of this every day, not that you minded. tugging on his hair just hard enough eventually made him stop, “you have a real problem with that, mister.” though the big dopey smile on your face gave away your true intention, “have no clue what you’re talking bout’.” he would grin right back at you. scratching the facial hair on his cheeks, you looked up at him with the biggest eyes. deciding to place one more tiny kiss on your lips, he leaned down only to linger a few moments more. “you’re going to be the death of me someday, toots.” “hoping it’s soon, your christmas album money is looking real good right now.” giggling together once more, it was always a comfort being yours.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ do not steal or plagiarize any work belonging to kkentobox !

[kiesbrainjuice]

Hi!! Could I ask for something with Post-Timeskip atsumu miya with a reader who also plays professional volleyball. And like a setter x hitter dynamic.

Thank you! <33

-GIRLFRIEND IN TRAINING ! timeskip!atsumu

➥ pr : timeskip!atsumu x fem!reader

➥ syn : what about Atsumu and a spiker reader ? Setter x hitter dynamic :)

➥ wc : 4.5k

➥ tw : kisses, cuddles and pure fluff. Atsumu is a prover and slightly but soooo slightly a perv…

➥ a/n : thanks for this request!! so good idea ! hope u like it :) (and sorry for the delay) I drifted a bit and it turned out to be long lmaaoooo but I like it.

The afternoon sun streamed through the high windows of the training facility, casting long shadows across the polished court floor. You wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead, adjusting your practice outfit - the white Lululemon set Atsumu had given you for your anniversary last month. Three years together, and somehow every day felt as exciting as the first.

"One more!" you called out, bouncing the volleyball against the floor. Your legs were starting to feel the burn after an hour of practice, but you couldn't help wanting just one more perfect set from your boyfriend.

Atsumu caught the ball with practiced ease, a playful smirk crossing his features. "Tired already? And here I thought dating a national team spiker would give me more of a challenge." He flexed dramatically, making you roll your eyes even as you fought back a smile.

"Just set the ball, you dork," you laughed, getting into position for your approach. After countless hours of practice together - both with your respective teams and during these private sessions - you could read each other's movements like a well-worn book.

The ball left his fingers in a perfect arc, and you could already tell it would be exactly where you wanted it. That was Atsumu's gift - not just his technical skill, but his ability to bring out the absolute best in his spikers. Your feet left the ground as you reached the apex of your jump, arm cocked back.

The satisfying smack of your palm meeting the ball echoed through the gym, followed by the sharp crack of it hitting the court just inside the line. Perfect placement.

"Show off," Atsumu teased, though his eyes were bright with pride. "Though I guess I can't complain when my girlfriend's the best spiker in the women's division."

You wiped your face with a towel, trying to hide your blush. "The set was a little low," you commented with faux criticism, knowing it would rile him up.

As expected, Atsumu's jaw dropped in exaggerated offense. "Low? That was a perfect set and you know it!" He crossed the court in a few quick strides, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind despite your halfhearted struggles to escape.

"Maybe if you weren't so busy flexing and actually focused on setting..." you continued teasing, turning in his embrace to face him.

"Oh? So you weren't sneaking glances at these guns?" He flexed again, making you laugh and push at his chest.

"You're impossible," you declared, though you couldn't keep the fondness from your voice. This was your favorite part of dating Atsumu - the way you could seamlessly blend your shared passion for volleyball with moments of pure playfulness.

The late afternoon light painted everything in warm golden tones, reminding you of how many hours had passed. "We should probably wrap up," you suggested reluctantly. "Don't you have team practice early tomorrow?"

Atsumu groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Don't remind me. Coach Foster's been brutal with conditioning lately. Says we need to be in top form for the upcoming tournament."

You ran your fingers through his damp hair sympathetically. "Poor baby. Though I seem to remember someone bragging about being the best setter in the V.League just yesterday..."

"I am the best setter in the V.League," he declared without a hint of modesty, making you snort. "And you love it."

You couldn't argue with that. For all his showboating and occasional arrogance, Atsumu backed it up with genuine skill and an unmatched work ethic. It was one of the things that had first drawn you to him - the way he poured his whole heart into everything he did, whether it was perfecting a new set or loving you.

"Come on," you said, extracting yourself from his embrace. "Help me clean up and then we can grab dinner? I'm thinking ramen."

"Only if you admit that set was perfect," he bargained, already moving to help collect the scattered volleyballs.

You pretended to think about it as you began breaking down the net. "Hmm... it was adequate."

"Adequate?!" His indignant squawk echoed through the gym, making you laugh. Some things never changed - and you wouldn't have it any other way.

As you worked together to restore the gym to order, you couldn't help but marvel at how naturally you'd fallen into this rhythm together. From national team commitments to stolen moments of practice like this, you'd built something special - a partnership that worked both on and off the court.

"Fine," you conceded as you zipped up your gym bag, unable to resist his puppy dog eyes any longer. "It was a perfect set. Happy now?"

His answering smile was brighter than the setting sun. "Almost," he said, pulling you in for a quick kiss. "Now I'm happy."

You shook your head fondly as you headed for the door together, his arm draped comfortably around your shoulders. Another perfect evening in a long string of them, filled with the two things you loved most - volleyball and Atsumu.

As you walked to your favorite ramen shop, you couldn't help but think how lucky you were to have found someone who understood both your competitive drive and your playful side. Someone who could challenge you to be better while loving you exactly as you were.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Atsumu asked, noticing your thoughtful expression.

You smiled, leaning into his side. "Just how much I love you, you big volleyball nerd."

"Look who's calling who a volleyball nerd," he laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple. "But I love you too."

The small ramen shop was bustling with evening customers, but the owner's face lit up with recognition as you and Atsumu ducked under the noren curtains. Being regulars had its perks - your favorite corner booth was mysteriously always available, tucked away from prying eyes that might recognize either of you from sports magazines or national team coverage.

"Ah, my favorite volleyball couple!" the elderly owner called out warmly. "The usual?"

"Actually," Atsumu interrupted before you could answer, "can we get the special tonight? Y'know, the one with the extra chashu?" He turned to you with that soft smile he seemed to reserve just for you. "You mentioned being hungry after practice."

You felt your heart flutter. After three years, he still noticed every little detail about you. "Always taking care of me, aren't you?"

"Someone has to make sure Japan's best spiker stays well-fed," he replied with a wink, pulling out your chair before settling across from you. His foot immediately found yours under the table, initiating your usual game of footsie.

"I thought Bokuto was Japan's best spiker?" you teased, knowing exactly how to push his buttons. As expected, Atsumu's face scrunched up in mock offense.

"Yer really gonna bring up another man on our date?" He clutched his chest dramatically. "After I set you all those perfect balls today?"

"Oh? They were perfect now? Because I distinctly remember someone getting very defensive when I suggested one was a little low..." You couldn't help but laugh at his increasingly exaggerated expressions of betrayal.

"Mean," he pouted, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Here I am, being the most attentive boyfriend in all of Japan-"

"All of Japan, huh?"

"The world!" he declared, making nearby diners glance over at his enthusiasm. He lowered his voice, leaning across the table conspiratorially. "Name one other setter who'd stay late just to practice with their girlfriend."

"Kageyama?" you suggested innocently.

Atsumu nearly choked on his water. "That's it, I'm breaking up with you," he announced, though his attempt at a serious expression was ruined by the way he couldn't stop staring at you adoringly. "As soon as we finish this ramen. And dessert. And maybe after I walk you home. And kiss you goodnight..."

"So tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow's no good, we have that couple's practice session planned," he mused thoughtfully. "Maybe next week?"

Your laughter was interrupted by the arrival of your ramen, the steam rising enticingly from the rich broth. Atsumu immediately began arranging your bowl, making sure all your favorite toppings were easily accessible - just one of the countless little ways he showed his love.

"Here," he said, picking up a particularly perfect slice of chashu with his chopsticks and holding it out to you. "Say 'ahh'."

You rolled your eyes but complied, letting him feed you. "You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously in love with you," he countered without missing a beat, preening when your cheeks flushed pink.

"That was terrible," you groaned, but you were already picking up a perfectly boiled egg to offer him in return. His triumphant grin as he accepted it made your heart skip.

The conversation flowed easily as you ate, discussing everything from upcoming matches to the latest team gossip. Atsumu's hand found yours across the table between bites, his thumb absently tracing patterns on your skin.

"Oh! Did I tell ya about what Bokuto did at practice yesterday?" His eyes lit up with mischief as he launched into an animated story about his teammate's latest antics, complete with impressions that had you clutching your sides with laughter.

"Stop, stop," you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes. "I'm going to get broth up my nose!"

"But you love my Bokkun impression," he preened, before his expression softened into something more serious. "I love making you laugh like that."

The sudden sincerity in his voice made your heart stutter. That was another thing about Atsumu - for all his playful bravado, he had moments of such genuine sweetness that it took your breath away.

"I love you," you said simply, because sometimes the straightforward truth was best.

His whole face lit up, like it did every time you said those words. "Yeah?" He brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Good thing, 'cause I'm pretty crazy about you too."

The owner appeared then with two small cups of green tea ice cream - on the house, he insisted, though you strongly suspected Atsumu had arranged it beforehand. Your boyfriend's pleased expression when you discovered the heart drawn in matcha powder on top confirmed your suspicions.

"You're such a sap," you told him fondly.

"Only for you," he agreed shamelessly, offering you the first bite of his ice cream. "Besides, I gotta make sure I stay your favorite setter. Can't have you running off with Kageyama after all."

You kicked him lightly under the table. "As if anyone could compare to my perfectly adequate setter."

"Oi!" His indignant response was cut short by your leaning across the table to kiss him, tasting sweet green tea on his lips.

When you pulled back, his expression was dazed and happy. "Okay, maybe I can forgive the 'adequate' comment. This time."

The evening wrapped up too quickly, as it always did when you were together. Atsumu insisted on paying - "My treat for my favorite spiker" - and tucked you under his arm as you stepped out into the cool night air.

"Practice again tomorrow?" he asked hopefully, as if you didn't already have it planned.

"Wouldn't miss it," you assured him, rising on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Someone has to keep your setting skills sharp."

His answering laugh was warm and full of affection. "Lucky me."

As you walked home hand in hand, you couldn't help but think that you were the lucky one. For all his dramatics and playful arrogance, Atsumu loved with his whole heart - whether it was volleyball or you.

—

The luxurious bathroom in your shared apartment steamed up as the shower ran hot, fog creeping across the large mirror. You'd both grown accustomed to the little dance of sharing the spacious bathroom during your nighttime routine, moving around each other with practiced ease.

"Babe, can you pass me my face wash?" you called out, holding your hand out of the shower. Atsumu's warm chuckle preceded the bottle being placed in your palm.

"The fancy one with the little gold flecks?" he confirmed, and you could hear the smile in his voice. "The one you insisted was worth half my week's grocery budget?"

"Says the man who spends a fortune on volleyball shoes," you shot back, working the cleanser into a lather. The familiar scent of jasmine filled the steamy air.

"Hey, those are professional expenses!" He was at the sink now, carefully applying shaving cream to the light stubble that had appeared over the past couple days. "Though I guess keeping your skin this soft could count as a professional expense too, considering how many sports magazine shoots you do these days."

You peeked around the shower door to stick your tongue out at him, catching him mid-stroke with his razor. His hair was cutely mussed from running his hands through it, and a bit of shaving cream had somehow ended up on his ear.

"You missed a spot," you informed him helpfully, gesturing to your own ear.

"What? Where?" He turned his head back and forth, examining his reflection in the slightly foggy mirror. "I don't see- hey!" He finally caught your grin in the reflection. "Yer just trying to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"Always," he admitted with a fond shake of his head, carefully finishing up his shaving. "Though I still don't understand how you can support Brazil in tomorrow's match. America's got some amazing servers this season."

You shut off the shower, reaching for your fluffy towel. "Spoken like someone who's never seen Bruno set in person. His technique is absolutely beautiful."

"Oi!" Atsumu spun around, razor forgotten. "Are you saying his sets are better than mine?"

You wrapped the towel around yourself, stepping out to press a kiss to his pouty lips. "Of course not, baby. Your sets are perfectly adequate, remember?"

He groaned, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. "You're never gonna let that go, are you?"

"Nope!" You wiggled away from him, moving to your extensive skincare collection arranged neatly on the marble counter. "Now, speaking of beautiful things..." You pulled out two sheet masks with a flourish.

Atsumu's eyes widened in horror. "Oh no. No, no, no. Last time you put one of those on me, I looked like a swamp monster!"

"But your skin was so glowy afterward," you wheedled, already opening one of the packages. "Come on, it's green tea and cucumber. Very manly ingredients!"

"There is nothing manly about looking like Shrek," he protested, but you could see him wavering. Three years together had taught you exactly how to wear him down - a slight pout, wide eyes, and...

"Please? For me?" You batted your eyelashes exaggeratedly. "I'll let you pick what we watch while we wait for them to work their magic."

He heaved a dramatic sigh, but you could see the smile tugging at his lips. "The things I do for love. Fine, but if Bokuto somehow finds out about this..."

"Your secret beauty routine is safe with me," you promised solemnly, reaching up to smooth the cool mask over his freshly-shaved skin. He scrunched his nose at the sensation but held obligingly still.

"I look ridiculous," he complained, catching sight of himself in the mirror.

"You look adorable," you corrected, carefully applying your own mask before starting on the rest of your routine. Atsumu watched with fascination as you methodically applied various serums and creams.

"How do you remember what order to put all that stuff in?" he wondered, absently reaching for one of the bottles before you swatted his hand away.

"Years of practice. Also, I labeled them with numbers," you admitted, showing him the tiny numbers you'd written on the bottom of each container. His laugh echoed off the bathroom tiles.

"That's my organized girl," he said fondly, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and hooking his chin over your shoulder. "Though I think you're beautiful without all this stuff too."

You met his eyes in the mirror, both of you looking absolutely ridiculous with your green masks, and felt your heart swell with affection. "Smooth talker."

"Only stating facts," he insisted, pressing a masked kiss to your shoulder that made you giggle.

Twenty minutes later, after finishing your routines and disposing of the masks ("See? Glowy!" "If you say so, baby."), you padded into the bedroom. While Atsumu brushed his teeth, you rifled through his side of the closet, pulling out one of his Black Jackals jerseys.

"Stealing my clothes again?" he called out, voice muffled around his toothbrush.

"It's not stealing if I live here," you reasoned, pulling the oversized jersey over your head. The familiar number 13 stretched across your back, and even though you'd been sleeping next to him for years now, something about wearing his jersey still made you feel specially connected to him.

"Besides," you added as he emerged from the bathroom, "you love seeing me in your jersey."

His eyes darkened appreciatively as he took in the sight of you perched on the edge of the king-sized bed, his name and number displayed across your back. "Can't argue with that."

You crawled under the plush covers while he queued up the pre-recorded America vs Brazil match on the bedroom's wall-mounted TV. The familiar sounds of a volleyball game filled the room as he slid in beside you, immediately pulling you close against his chest.

"Ten bucks says America takes the first set," he murmured into your hair.

"You're on," you agreed, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Brazil's reception has been solid lately."

As you watched the match unfold, you traded commentary and friendly arguments about technique, occasionally interrupted by sleepy kisses and gentle teasing. When Brazil indeed took the first set, you couldn't resist a smug "told you so."

"Yeah, yeah," Atsumu yawned, nuzzling into your neck. "You're just lucky Bruno had a good day."

"Mmm, keep telling yourself that," you mumbled, feeling sleep starting to tug at your consciousness. The warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his skin care products (which he pretended weren't just as expensive as yours) were making your eyelids heavy.

Atsumu reached for the remote, turning off the TV and plunging the room into comfortable darkness. "Love you," he whispered, pressing one last kiss to your temple.

"Love you too," you managed through another yawn, tangling your legs with his. "Even if your sets are only adequate."

His quiet laugh was the last thing you heard as you drifted off to sleep, secure in his muscular arms and knowledge that you'd wake up to another day of perfectly imperfect moments with your favorite setter.

Ⓒkiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[embracing-the-ineffable]

Breaking the Silence, posted by Neil Gaiman at 10:20 AM (1/14/25)

I haven't had a chance to process this yet, but NG has posted on his website:

Text below the cut if you don't want to follow the link (And a reminder to everyone, please be radically fucking kind to everyone as they process this in their own ways):

"Over the past many months, I have watched the stories circulating the internet about me with horror and dismay. I’ve stayed quiet until now, both out of respect for the people who were sharing their stories and out of a desire not to draw even more attention to a lot of misinformation. I've always tried to be a private person, and felt increasingly that social media was the wrong place to talk about important personal matters. I've now reached the point where I feel that I should say something.

As I read through this latest collection of accounts, there are moments I half-recognise and moments I don’t, descriptions of things that happened sitting beside things that emphatically did not happen. I’m far from a perfect person, but I have never engaged in non-consensual sexual activity with anyone. Ever. 

I went back to read the messages I exchanged with the women around and following the occasions that have subsequently been reported as being abusive. These messages read now as they did when I received them – of two people enjoying entirely consensual sexual relationships and wanting to see one another again. At the time I was in those relationships, they seemed positive and happy on both sides.

And I also realise, looking through them, years later, that I could have and should have done so much better. I was emotionally unavailable while being sexually available, self-focused and not as thoughtful as I could or should have been. I was obviously careless with people's hearts and feelings, and that's something that I really, deeply regret. It was selfish of me. I was caught up in my own story and I ignored other people's.

I’ve spent some months now taking a long, hard look at who I have been and how I have made people feel. 

Like most of us, I’m learning, and I'm trying to do the work needed, and I know that that's not an overnight process. I hope that with the help of good people, I'll continue to grow. I understand that not everyone will believe me or even care what I say but I’ll be doing the work anyway, for myself, my family and the people I love. I will be doing my very best to deserve their trust, as well as the trust of my readers.

At the same time, as I reflect on my past – and as I re-review everything that actually happened as opposed to what is being alleged – I don't accept there was any abuse. To repeat, I have never engaged in non-consensual sexual activity with anyone.

Some of the horrible stories now being told simply never happened, while others have been so distorted from what actually took place that they bear no relationship to reality. I am prepared to take responsibility for any missteps I made. I’m not willing to turn my back on the truth, and I can't accept being described as someone I am not, and cannot and will not admit to doing things I didn't do."

Here's information about yesterday's article, which he's responding to:

And another reminder to everyone, please be radically fucking kind to everyone as they process this in their own ways.

[hotchs-bitch]

Cold December Night- Part 2

Old saint Nick has taken flight With a heart on board so please be careful Each year I ask for many different things But now I know what my heart wants you to bring

“Okay, just tell me one more time. Why do you think this is going to work?”

Hotch sighs at your question, undoubtedly tired of you asking it every fifteen minutes while the two of you drive to your family Christmas. He drums his index finger against the steering wheel, obviously trying to come up with a reason he hasn’t given you yet.

“Think of it as going undercover,” he advises. “It’s like we’re in the field together. We’re a team with a common enemy.”

“A common enemy? Sure, if you also have a grudge against my Aunt Marnie when she’s drinking eggnog punch.” 

“Look,” Hotch starts, and you hold back a sigh of your own. “I don’t think it’s going to be that easy, but we can make it work. Let’s just get our stories straight; I’ll need to learn about your relationship. How did you and Marcus meet? What do they know about him?”

You look down at your lap, fiddling with your bracelet. “We met online, but I told them we met through friends. They don’t really know anything about him, though.”

One of Hotch’s eyebrows raises, making your stomach flip at the disbelieving look he’s giving you. “Do they know his job? His age? Where he lives? Anything about him?”

“He was… between things, okay? I covered his bills, and he said he would start looking for a job in January.” You don’t have to be a profiler to see Hotch’s jaw twitch. “They don’t know anything else, really. Honestly, you probably don’t even have to lie to them. You can just talk about your own life for the most part, they won’t know the difference and it’ll be easier to keep our story straight.”

That was entirely selfish of you to suggest, but Hotch doesn’t give any indication that he’s caught on to an ulterior motive. 

“So… you want me to say that my name is Marcus and that I don’t have a job. And otherwise, you think I should be myself. Is that correct?”

“Okay, well, you don’t need to say it like that, like I forced you to come with me,” you huff, peering at Hotch out of the corner of your eye. “But other than that stuff… yeah. Just be yourself.”

You could kick yourself for the way your voice softens; if he hasn’t noticed anything yet, that was almost certainly a glowing neon sign screaming ‘HEY, I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU’. But Hotch just nods in understanding and keeps his eyes on the road as you settle back into your seat.

“Alright. I will,” he promises, and you lapse into silence as he keeps driving. 

How the hell are you supposed to make it through this weekend?

—

A few hours later you’re finally starting to approach the house, with Hotch steering the car down the snowy driveway.

“Marcus,” he says like he’s reminding himself. “My name is Marcus, and I don’t have a job.”

“You’ve got it,” you assure him, taking a deep breath to calm your own racing heart as the car pulls to a slow stop. There’s no time to focus on how pathetic his summary of your ex makes you sound. “Ready?”

Hotch looks uncertain now, like he’s realized that he’s currently in the driveway of your childhood home, but he nods. “Of course.”

Before you can answer, or panic, he gets out of the car and approaches your side, opening the door for you. When you give him a surprised look, he holds out a hand to help you out of the car. “They’re probably watching already,” he murmurs, and you’re sure he’s right. Your family is probably pressed against the living room window right now, shoving one another aside to get a view of your boyfriend.

“Go inside,” he encourages, his voice still low and smooth as you stand up and he keeps holding your hand, “Go say hi to everybody. I’ll grab our bags and I’ll be right behind you.”

Your hand falls from his a moment later, and he lumbers to the trunk of the car to grab both suitcases while you start for the door of the house.

The door is hardly open when two arms are flung around you, and your sister greets you excitedly. “Hey! Come in, come here. Is he bringing your stuff in?”

You hug her back, stepping into the foyer. “Hey. Yeah, he is, he’s just…”

Glancing out through the open door is a mistake. Hotch is pulling his suitcase out, and already has yours tucked under one arm. He must feel your eyes on him, because he glances up and gives you a smile that feels so genuine that you almost believe it to be real.

Maybe this was a mistake. Your heart is aching, seeing him carry your luggage into the house. There’s nothing you want more than to be introducing him to your family for real, to be with him for real. To say ‘This is Aaron, my boyfriend.’

But you can’t do that, and a flutter of conversation breaks you out of your reverie. 

“Honey, where should I put these?” The sound of the word ‘honey’ coming from Aaron Hotchner’s lips should be downright illegal, and it makes you buffer while your sister swoops in.

“This is him?” She asks, inspecting him with a critical eye. You can’t blame her, not with your romantic track record, but you still don’t want to let her stare him down until he gets uncomfortable and wants to leave.

“Yeah, this is Aaron, my boyfriend.” Oops. “Can you give him some space, please?”

And holy shit, you’re bad at fieldwork. Aaron thinks so too, if the look he gives you is any indication, but he doesn’t say a thing about your Freudian slip.

“Aaron,” your sister parrots, but she steps back all the same. “Wasn’t your name Marcus?”

“It’s my middle name,” Aaron lies smoothly, setting down one bag to shake your sister’s hand as he jokes, “She only uses it when I’m in trouble. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too. Hey mom, they’re here!” She calls out, and your mom comes out of the kitchen wearing an apron and a cautious smile.

“Hi, sweetie… and hello, Marcus. It’s nice to meet you,” she says, but it’s a little too cordial to be genuine.

“Aaron, please ma’am, if you don’t mind. It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you,” Aaron adds, holding out his hand again. There’s a hint of an accent in his voice, one he usually keeps from slipping out. But right now, it seems like he’s got his old southern charm turned all the way up and it’s oozing out of his voice too. “I can’t wait to try those Christmas cookies. She’s been raving about them for the last hour.”

And that southern charm just might be working; your mom is already looking more at ease while she shakes his hand, barely blinking at the abrupt name change.

“Oh, thank you, Aaron, you’ll love them. Do you need someone to help get the bags up the stairs? I can call for one of the men,” she offers, then glances at you when Aaron shakes his head. “The two of you can stay in your old room, I assume.”

And, oh, that is really not good. But there’s no way you could possibly argue now.

“Definitely. It’s on the second floor, babe, I’ll show you where.” You reach for a suitcase, but Aaron gives you a teasing smile and pulls it out of reach. “Hey, let me help!”

“I’ve got it, really,” he promises, brushing a kiss to your temple that sends a spark through your body. “You just lead the way, and I’ll bring the bags.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you start up the stairs and down the hall, with Aaron right behind you. “This is my room,” you say, pushing the door open and stepping in. The second the door is closed behind Aaron, the playful smile falls off your face.

His face doesn’t fall in quite the same way, but the twinkle in his eyes dulls a bit. “So I don’t have to remember the other guy’s name, at least,” he mumbles.

“Maybe this was a bad idea. We can tell them you’re not feeling well,” you suggest, turning to face Aaron as he sets down both suitcases. “I already screwed up, and we definitely can’t stay here.”

Aaron’s gaze flicks to the bed. It’s a twin bed with a canopy, and purple-blue sheets. “We can make it work,” he promises. “We’re already here. There’s no point in leaving now, especially when I’m just starting to meet them. I’ll win them over, you can relax, and we’ll be out of here in a couple of days.”

He starts towards the door like it’s a done decision, but you catch his arm. “Why are you doing this?”

He doesn’t look at you. In fact, he keeps his focus trained on the ground as he makes his confession. “I don’t want to go home. Jack wanted to spend Christmas with his mother, and I’m not invited in case I have to leave for work.”

And wow, that makes you hurt for him. It also makes your decision an easy one. “Of course we can stay. I’m sorry to hear about that. I'm sure Jack’s unhappy about not seeing you.”

“I told him we would celebrate, the next time he stays with me,” Aaron says, and a small smile tugs at his lips. “Put up a tree, watch movies, bake cookies and leave some out for Santa so he’ll come even after Christmas. We’ve done it almost every year since the divorce.”

The look on his face is soft, warm, and a little sad. “That sounds fun,” you offer, and his smile gets a little bigger. “Let’s get back downstairs. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about us being up here for too long.”

That earns you a snort, and Aaron glances at the twin bed. “They really think we’ve got room to fool around up here?” he jokes, letting you lead him out of your bedroom by the hand, and you just roll your eyes and laugh while you ignore the way his words make your heart race.

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[sinsolstice]

GIRL DAD (4)

SINGLE DAD MIGUEL X TEACHER READER (AFAB) CHAPTER FOUR SYNOPSIS: You and Miguel are getting used to the arrangements of letting Gabriella stay over for a few hours and having dinner together after school. TRACKING POST: follow #𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝 (miguel o'hara) for new content and updates.

tags ✮  modern au, single dad miguel + afab teacher reader, found family, slight angst, eventual romance + smut. 

wc ✮ 1,449

author's note ✮ this chapter is a little shorter than my usual word count. i also want to mention that this chapter has mentions of family bereavement and domestic abuse as part of the subplot (and foreshadowing).

← part three // mlist

Since the evening you offered Miguel the opportunity to look after his daughter after school, it has been three weeks since then. 

It’s quite a change to your after-school routine, but you adapt to it within the first week of trialling. It’s a good thing to say that Gabriella feels the same way. She enjoys spending time with you after school and makes it known by how excitedly she waits for you by your desk after half-past three in the afternoon. Gabriella helps with tidying up the classroom, telling you about the conversations she has with her friends during lunch and in between lessons. You’ve always had a good relationship with the young girl, but when you take upon the responsibility of looking after her, your relationship with Gabriella turns out better. 

Gabriella is truly the epitome of a gracious child. When you invite her into your room, she goes to the kitchen to wash her hands. Then sets herself in your living room to sit close by the coffee table, laying out her homework and snacks. She does her work without supervision and occasionally asks you for help if she needs it. Gabriella falls into the routine easily too and when she is done with her homework, the two of you bond over arts and crafts or something on the telly playing in the background. 

At exactly 6pm sharp, the doorbell rings and Miguel stands at the front pouch. He would come in, thank you again for looking after his daughter, embrace Gabriella, and the three of you would make it to the dining table and share a meal. You and Miguel would take turns bringing food for dinners—you would cook on Mondays and Tuesdays, and Miguel would bring something over on Thursdays and Fridays. This new routine brings out a feeling of home and togetherness, so it’s a pleasant change of routine to your usual time living on your own. 

“What is England like, Miss?” Gabriella asks. You have informed your students when you began your teaching career about your childhood in another country. It was rather a little obvious with the slight out-of-place accent and the difference in spelling that your students pointed out. And it doesn’t seem like Miguel is surprised by the revelation as he takes a spoonful of food as Gabriella talks. 

“Well…” You think for a moment as you try to recall your life. “If we are referring to the weather, it’s very unpredictable over there in England. Sometimes it’s a burst of beautiful sunshine outside and other times, the skies are grey. From time to time, you feel little droplets of hail raining down on you out of nowhere. And sometimes, the weather is chilly too.” 

“Hail?” Gabriella repeats. 

“Hailstones,” you smile. “Like tiny crystals of ice.” 

“We haven’t been to England, haven’t we, Gabs?” Miguel says. “Maybe we should consider it one of the summers.” 

“I want to go to where they plant so many flowers,” Gabriella suggested. 

You flash Gabriella a smile when you realise the location she’s talking about. “That’s the Eden Project down south in Cornwall, at the edge of England.” You explain. “They have nice beaches there, too.” 

“Corn-wall,” Gabriella repeats slowly, with a tone of awe. “I want to go there.” 

“Maybe we should consider,” Miguel says to his daughter.  

You look at him who sits across from you, relaxed after coming back from work. “I haven’t been to Mexico before,” you say. “Or any parts of South America. Where do you guys suggest I go visit?”

Miguel and Gabriella hum as the two of them think together. Their mouths press in a thin line, the bottom of their lip sticking out a small pout. As you study their expressions, you can’t help but find them endearing the same similarities in their mannerisms. Like father, like daughter.

“If you enjoy the beaches, Tulum is a good place to start,” Miguel says. “Although it’s further down the country. Or, there’s the seaside town of Tecolutla or Acapulco Beach. They’re both about a four-hour drive from Mexico City.”  

“Acapulco!” Gabriella beamed in excitement. “I want to go there again this summer.” 

Miguel chuckles and playfully ruffles her hair. A smile blooms on your face, and the three of you eat in peace. Gabriella’s question catches your attention and you look right in front of her. “Do you talk to your mama and papa every day since they are so far away?” Gabriella asks. 

“Well,” you exhale softly. “I still talk to my siblings and my good friends from England.” 

“What about your mama?” 

Even though it has been a while, the dread of telling the story makes your stomach churn uncomfortably, no matter how you simplify or summarise the story. “My mama passed away when I was nineteen. She had been sick for a while and her body couldn’t handle it anymore.” 

Miguel looks up, and his eyes meet yours. Gabriella turns to look at him with a puzzled look and the room falls into silence that’s all too familiar. “We’re sorry to hear that.” 

“It was a while ago,” you reply with a hesitant smile. “But thank you.” 

Gabriella looks at you and although the surprise on her face lingers, there’s also curiosity like every young child has. “What about your papa?” 

“My papa,” you sigh. “I have two papas who are not nice people, so I have not spoken to them or seen them in a very long time.” 

You didn’t dare to look at Miguel when you revealed your backstory because you knew the look on his face from the corner of your eyes. Sympathy, disbelief, unsure and silent. Because how could someone like you—lively and brave—grow up with a fate so horrendous and unthinkable?  

“But,” Gabriella says, her lips downcast in a frown. She turns to look at her father, her tone quiet and glum. “Aren’t papas supposed to be good people?” 

Miguel presses his lips into a thin line. “Fathers are supposed to be good people, mija. To protect their family.” He says solemnly. “But sadly, not all fathers are like that.” 

Miguel flickers his eyes at you. He must have pieced together your history and the story of how to move to the States that you mentioned. “My condolences. I’m really sorry to hear that,” he says. “You deserve better things, and I hope you will experience them all.”  

Gabriella turns to look at you with a similar expression to Miguel’s. “I’m sorry you don’t have a mama and papa anymore.” 

“Thank you, and it’s okay.” You give them a kind smile. No one knows this about you since you’ve kept it to yourself ever since you migrated to the States on your own. Your life wasn’t the greatest in the beginning, but you made it through the dark and stormy years to make it this far. “My family and I have our differences that are sometimes different to overcome without having fights.” You explain. “But we still care for one another.” 

The dining room falls quiet. Despite it closes the end of the conversation, it feels a sense of uncertainty on how to dwell on a different topic. Although what you had to endure was a while ago, the tragedy carries within you unfathomably. 

Suddenly, Gabriella pushes back her seat and walks around the table, coming to you. Her small arms crisscross around you. “You’re my family too, miss.” 

You wrap your arms around her and embrace Gabriella with an equal force of appreciation for her kindness. You hold her and squeeze her gently, resting your cheek on top of her head. “Thank you, Gabi. That means a lot to me.” 

“You’re my favourite,” Gabi says, then turns her head to look at Miguel and grins. “After papa, of course.” 

You look at Miguel, and he chuckles, smirking at the two of you. “Glad to know that I’m still your number one favourite, mija.” 

“Then after that is Aunty Jess,” Gabi adds. She holds out three of her fingers and counts them down at every list of names she announces. “Daddy, Miss Teacher and then Aunty Jess. In that order.” 

Laughter from you and Miguel fills the dining room. Your chest warms at the thought of comfort you find yourself in—thinking of Jess, Gabriella and Miguel. The people you didn’t think you would ever meet and change your life for the better. You flicker your eyes and meet Miguel’s gaze. A smile appears on his face, reminding you of warmth and comfort that you truly didn’t have.

A flutter in your stomach made you snuggle Gabriella even more with another new physical symptom you feel in the moment; heart racing.  

aesthetic dividers are credited to cafekitsune.

author's note: sorry for the kinda sad chapter but the hurdle is over now and more chapters will be lighter and fluff :)

[toasecretsanta]

From @just_snakess for Aquos

“So, what’s been going on at camp?” I asked my children, spearing a sausage on my fork. We were sat at the Apollo table in Camp Half-Blood’s mess hall, enjoying the food after a hard day’s work training. Well, the demigods had been hard at working training. I had been hard at work giving the occasional thumbs up from the sidelines. But I liked to visit Camp Half-Blood often, even when there was nothing in particular that needed some godly input. It was the least I could do, after spending, well, millennia, almost completely ignoring my children. I felt a now-familiar surge of guilt, but pushed it firmly down. Now was not the time. Instead, I continued my questioning.

“News? Gossip? Pranks? Tell me everything.” I waggled my eyebrows suggestively, then regretted it.

Will cracked a small smile at my antics, so I figured it was all worth it. “It’s been surprisingly quiet, actually,” he said.

“It absolutely hasn’t,” Kayla objected. “You know Tanya from Hephaestus? Turns out her epic rivalry with the Aphrodite cabin was all for show, and she’s been dating Chloe for months. The Aphrodite kids can’t decide whether to exile Chloe for not telling them, or hail them both as the greatest forbidden romance of all time.” “And then there’s Chiron’s new initiative,” put in Austin.

As one, the table groaned.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Gracie said miserably, staring down at her plate like she was staring down the barrel of a gun. Oh, wait, demigods don’t use guns. Perhaps the Hephaestus cabin should get on that.

“It’s awful,” Jerry bemoaned. Kayla clapped him on the shoulder in commiseration.

I looked at Will. As head counsellor, he would surely have some sensible and reassuring comment to make to raise his siblings’ spirits. “No, Dad, it really is that bad,” he said, as if he’d read my mind. “It’s to do with Chiron’s new…”

“...mental health initiative,” the whole cabin finished together, with various levels of despair, disgust, and hopelessness in their voices.

I frowned. This seemed like an important parenting moment. “Now, children,” I began. “I know talking about mental health isn’t always comfortable, but as the god of health, you can trust me when I say it’s very important! Whatever Chiron’s got in store for you, I’m sure it’s entirely justified and very helpful.” Oddly, this did not seem to have the cheering effect I’d hoped for. Gracie picked gloomily at her food. The others exchanged commiserating glances with each other.

“In principle, I’d agree with you,” Will said, evidently their designated spokesperson. “But…not this. Anything but this.”

“It can’t be that bad,” I said optimistically, though privately I was beginning to have my doubts. I’d seen my children more enthusiastic about literal wars.

Will grimaced, but didn’t reply. The table fell into a gloomy silence. It seemed I had made a social faux pas, which was unfortunately a surprisingly common occurrence for me. I cast around desperately for another source of conversation, and spied Meg walking with a tray over to the Demeter table.

“Meg! Over here!” I shouted, waving my arms frantically. One thing I’d learned about Meg is that to get her attention, you had to remove the option of plausible deniability that she hadn’t noticed you. She also enjoyed it when I embarrassed myself in public, which made it more likely she would then do what I wanted.

Meg rolled her eyes, but I saw the corner of her mouth upturn in a tiny smile as she corrected course over to our table. This made me feel embarrassingly gooey inside. 

“Sup,” she said as she approached. Meg is very eloquent. It is just one of her many charms. I shuffled along to make room for her on the bench as my kids gave her a muted welcome.

She frowned. “How come you’re all so sad?” “The initiative,” Kayla said gloomily.

Meg mimed throwing up. The table nodded in mournful solidarity.

“So what actually is this initiative?” I asked, which I recognised was not the wisest move socially, but my curiosity was winning out.

As one, the table shuddered.

“We just have to tell him,” Austin said to the rest of the table. “He’ll never rest until he finds out otherwise.” He turned to me with the determination of a hardened warrior once more facing down his worst nightmare. “Chiron is making us each come up with a mental health mantra,” he said.

Gracie clapped her hands over her ears. Will looked vaguely queasy. Meg vibrated with vengeful anger.

“That doesn’t seem so bad!” I said.

“It’s so cheesy,” Kayla said.

“And also useless,” added Yan. Kayla nodded in agreement.

“Mantras are not useless,” I said sternly. “In fact, I had one myself, and it kept me going through all sorts of things!” Gracie wrinkled her nose. “Really?”

“Don’t be rude,” Will scolded, but it didn’t really sound like his heart was in it.

“Wait, tell us what it is, and then we can copy it!” said Jerry.

The table all turned to look at me expectantly. I realised I had backed myself into a corner.

“Ah,” I said, panicking. “Well, the thing is - I really can’t - I’m afraid I’m needed very urgently at Olympus for something very important - I’m sure you understand - bye!” 

And with that, I poofed out of the mess hall and into my bedroom in the sun palace, where I collapsed on my bed and screamed into the pillow. “Something very important? Really, Apollo?” I said to myself. “That was all you could think of?”

*

Some hours later, I rather sheepishly [teleported] back to Camp Half-Blood and lurked hesitantly in the shadows of the woods, unsure of how to [re-introduce] myself after my rather rapid escape earlier. Before I could think of anything good, however, Meg spotted me.

She marched up to me and punched me in the arm, hard.

“Ow!” I protested.

“Dummy,” she said. “Don’t poof away. Just say you don’t want to answer like a normal person.” 

She spoke gruffly, but I was well practised at Meg-interpretation. My heart melted.

“Oh, Meg,” I said, pulling her into a hug. “I’m very sorry for disappearing on you.” She hugged me back. “ ‘S okay,” she said. “You panicked. I get it.” This made me want to hug her even tighter, but I released her before she started to squirm.

“Why’d you panic?” she asked.

“Truthfully? I’m not entirely sure,” I admitted. “I guess I was just a little embarrassed.” “You embarrass yourself all the time, though.” I gasped. “Rude!” But she wasn’t entirely wrong. Why had this particular instance made me freak out so much? “Maybe because I felt put on the spot?” I said out loud. “I mean, my mantra wasn't that bad.” Meg raised an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t!” I protested. “I’ll tell you right now! It went ‘I am beautiful and everyone loves me’, which is pretty standard mantra stuff, for your information!” Meg burst out laughing. I crossed my arms grumpily. “What?” I demanded.

“That was actually your mantra?”

“Yes,” I said defensively. “It…didn’t work very well, in the end.” “I don’t think that’s a very good mantra,” Meg said bluntly. I opened her mouth to snap at her, but something told me this wasn’t just one of her standard insults. She continued, slowly: “I mean, all gods are attractive, so that wouldn’t really make you feel good about yourself. And mantras aren’t meant to be about other people’s opinions. Apparently.” She crossed her arms and looked away, cheeks red.

“Meg,” I said, surprised and touched. “Have you actually been listening to Chiron’s mental health initiative?” She shrugged defensively. “Thought it might be useful for helping the rest of Nero’s kids,” she muttered.

I couldn’t help it, I hugged her again. “That’s very kind, Meg,” I said earnestly once she had scrabbled away from me, cheeks still glowing bright pink.

“Whatever,” she said, but she was smiling. “Anyway, that’s a shitty mantra. You should get a better one.” “Language!” I scolded. “And I don’t even go to this camp, why should I have to think of a mantra?” “I don’t go here either,” Meg pointed out. “Not properly. You spend at least as much time here as me. So if I have to do it, so do you.” “But-” “Shut up,” she told me. “I’m your master. This is an order.” I folded. Secretly I was quite touched by the fact that she still wanted to give me stupid orders, even though I was a god now. “Fine,” I said. “We will make stupid cheesy mantras together. How do we proceed?” 

She shrugged at me disdainfully. I hadn’t known a shrug could be disdainful before I met Meg. “That’s what everyone’s trying to figure out, dummy.”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “A most troubling dilemma.” I paused, drawing on my centuries of godly knowledge, and came up largely blank. “Meg, it pains me to admit it, but this is not my area of expertise. We may require backup.” “Backup?”

I nodded, warming to the idea. “Yes, indeed. I will go forth and seek knowledge on mantras. Surely one of our friends must know something.” Meg looked dubious. “You’ve only got a day left, though. They’re meant to be due tomorrow.”

“And nobody’s done one?” I said incredulously.

“The whole camp has ADHD,” she pointed out.

I nodded, conceding the point. “Have faith,” I told her. “I’m a god! I travel quickly. When I return, I will be the master of mantras! The mantra master! Perhaps I already am? Are they a subsection of poetry? Who’s to say? But regardless, I will return to you soon, dearest Meg.”

I kissed her on the head, then vanished. My quest had begun.

*

My first port of call was the Waystation. Emmy and Jo were some of the wisest people I knew. I felt sure one of them would have advice to offer. But when I appeared in the Grand Hall, the place was largely deserted, save for two familiar faces deep in concentration at one of the anvils under the rose window.

“Lityerses! Leo!” I cried. “It’s good to see you, my friends!” Leo put down the sledgehammer he was wielding and offered me a wan smile. “Hey, Apollo,” he said.

I frowned. “Is this a bad time?” “Well-” Leo began.

“Yes,” Lityerses interrupted. “Calypso broke up with him,” he informed me.

Leo winced. “Dude, you didn’t need to say it so bluntly,” he said, but even that was half-hearted, lacking his usual brimming-over energy.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know you cared for her a lot.” He shrugged, uncomfortable. “It’s tough for her, rejoining society after so long being on her own. I get that she needs some time to figure herself out without having to worry about anyone else.” “It still sucks,” said Lityerses, with more emotional intelligence than I would’ve expected from a guy once known as the Reaper of Men.

Leo patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks, buddy. Anyways, Apollo, what were you actually here for? Unless it’s because you’re deeply invested in my love life, which would be understandable, if a little creepy, because I am incredibly hot.” He flexed a bicep.

I wasn’t surprised he was changing the subject. Deflecting with humour was a Leo Valdez speciality; even I could tell that much. But I couldn’t fault the guy for not wanting to talk about his breakup 24/7. “I’m actually here on a little quest of my own devising,” I said. “Do either of you know anything about mantras?” Leo let out a genuine laugh. “Okay, that was not what I was expecting. Why are you going on a mantras quest, Apollo?” “Long story,” I said. “Well? Anything?” He shook his head, still smiling. “Sorry, man. Not my thing. Lit, you got anything?” “No,” Lit immediately denied, but there was something shifty about his eyes. 

Leo immediately rounded on him. “Dude, you’re kidding me. You have a mantra?”

“I am an esteemed warrior who has lived for many lifetimes of men,” Lityerses said stiffly. His cheeks were red.

“That’s not a denial!” Leo said gleefully.

“I, for one, would love to hear your mantra, Lityerses,” I put in.

“It’s just Lit,” he said, crossing his arms. “And it’s not really a mantra.” Leo gasped. “He admits it,” he stage-whispered.

“Shut up, Leo,” Lit said. I’d never seen someone flush brighter red in my life. “It’s just something Jo said to me a couple months after I started staying here. That it didn’t matter if people called me Midas’s son or Commodus’s lieutenant or even the Reaper of Men. That I had to decide how I wanted to see myself, and then hold tight to that. Never let it go.” I’d never heard Lit speak so many words in one go before. I was moved by the fact that he'd chosen to share such a personal thing with me.

“Aw, Lit,” Leo said, clearly touched. “I’m telling Jo you said that.” “Don’t you dare,” Lit grumbled. He turned to me. “Hope that was helpful, I guess.”

“Thank you very much,” I said. I wanted to express my gratitude further, but Lit still struck me as a man who wouldn't appreciate the attention. “Those are very wise words indeed. But as nice as this chat has been, I'm afraid I must be on my way. I’m on a tight schedule!”

*

“Brother, I don’t have time for games,” Artemis said to me, arms folded. “We’re finally a step ahead of the fox. I don’t have time to waste.”

“But this is important!” I protested.

Around us, the entire camp of hunters was a flurry of movement as they struck their tents and packed up camp. They were remarkably well-polished. One elbowed me as she walked past carrying a towering pile of weapons, which I graciously chose to believe was accidental.

Artemis looked unimpressed. “You have five minutes. And if the fox gets away again, it’s your fault.”

“What?” I cried. “It’s not my fault you’ve all been on a wild goose chase for years!” “Wild fox chase,” she corrected.

“It’s a figure of speech!” “Is this really how you’re choosing to spend your -” she glanced at her watch - “four remaining minutes?” “Fine,” I said, not at all sulkily.

She looked at me incredulously. “Is that a pout?” “Now who’s wasting time? Anyway, what I wanted to talk to you about was mantras.” “Mantras?” She studied me more closely. “Brother, are you having an identity crisis?” She said it derisively, but there was a hint of genuine worry in her eyes.

“No, no,” I reassured her. “It’s just so I can advise the demigods. Something about Chiron’s new mental health initiative.” I tactically left out my agreement with Meg that I would also have to come up with a mantra.

“Chiron started a mental health initiative?” came an incredulous voice from behind me. I turned to see a young woman with short black hair and a familiar leather jacket. “Guess camp really has changed since my day.” “This does not concern you, Thalia Grace,” Artemis said. “Do not let my brother drag you into this ridiculous conversation.”

“Thalia!” I said, delighted. “I don’t suppose you know anything about mantras?” She snorted. “Nope. Lady Artemis?” Artemis sighed. “Well, I suppose if I must contribute…” She closed her eyes for a moment in thought, then opened them again. “Yes, I do believe I have it.” “Really?” I said suspiciously.

“I go to the trouble of indulging in your foolish games for once, and I am met only with suspicion? You might hurt my feelings, brother.” “Sorry, sorry,” I said hastily. “So what is it?” She gave a small smile, which made me instantly suspicious. “Repeat after me: I, the god Apollo…” I didn’t like where this was going. “I, the god Apollo…” “...pale in comparison to my lovely, talented, and beautiful sister.” She beamed at me. “Do you like it?” 

Thalia gave her a high five.

“Very funny-” I began, but the two of them were already walking away.

“Sorry, brother, must dash!” Artemis called over her shoulder. “We have a fox to catch!”

*

My beloved oracle, Rachel Dare, stared at me contemplatively. “I think I’m getting there,” she informed me, daubing a few more dashes of paint on her easel as she spoke.

“Really?” I said hopefully.

“Mhm.” She put down her brush and scooted over her stool so she could look me in the eyes. “Are you ready to receive my prophetic wisdom?” The suspense was killing me. I nodded eagerly.

“Apollo…” - she looked me dead in the eyes - “...you are Kenough.”

I frowned. “Is that a riddle?” She threw up her hands. “Aren’t you the god of music? Why are you so uncultured? Look, stay here, I’ll get my laptop. I’m about to change your life.

She wasn’t wrong. The Barbie movie was excellent. However, it did not aid my quest.

*

“It turns out that knowledge of mantras is harder to come by than I thought,” I informed my mother as we sat down for our weekly afternoon tea. “Nobody is taking my quest for knowledge seriously. Well, except maybe Lit. I knew I liked him for a reason. But the rest of them are just treating mantras as a joke!”

Leto took a sip of tea, unbothered by my dramatics. “Didn’t you think of them as a joke?” she said, infuriatingly reasonably.

“Well, yes,” I admitted.

She raised an eyebrow.

“...And also I called them stupid and cheesy and useless,” I said. “But they are! No wonder none of the [demigods] have taken this seriously!” “Were Lityerses’ words to you stupid and cheesy and useless?” Leto asked.

“No,” I said. “No, not at all.” “Then clearly some mantras aren’t like that.”

I sighed. “But none of the others will see it that way. Even Lit said that his advice wasn’t really a mantra.” “So clearly people don’t respond well to that word,” Leto reasoned. “Much like you, they associate it with cheesy advice with no real benefit. So stop using it.” My brow creased. “Investigate mantras without investigating mantras?”

“Why not? Just try asking them for a piece of advice, something that someone’s told them, or that they’ve realised themself, that they hold close to their heart.”

“And you think they’ll respond to that?” I said hopefully.

She lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “It’s worth a try. And Apollo, before you go, I’ve got a piece of advice of my own.” She made sure I was listening before she continued. “It doesn’t matter if it’s cheesy if it helps.”

*

My mother, as always, was right.

“There is always happiness in unicorns,” Lavinia told me solemnly. “And in tap dance.”

“We can change things,” Frank said as we gazed out over the reconstruction of New Rome.

“Not even curses last forever,” said Hazel, pressing a small blue sapphire into my hands.

“Just ‘cause I’m half Cherokee doesn’t mean I’m a fount of spiritual knowledge, you know,” said Piper. “But I guess I would say that happiness is still possible.” She squeezed Shel’s hand.

Luguselwa watched Nero’s children replant a new set of seedlings. “It’s not too late,” she said.

“I thought we already had this conversation?” said Artemis. “Honestly, brother. My advice is that you don’t need my advice. You know full well what advice you need to hear. You know better than anyone else. Now stop with this pointless denial and listen to yourself.”

*

When I returned to Camp Half-Blood, it was in chaos. Demigods ran panicked between cabins or else were deep in frantic discussion with friends, some scribbling on scraps of paper, some murmuring under their breaths. 

I eventually found Will out by the strawberry fields, alone save for Nico. “It’s a war out there, Dad,” he said to me, face grim. “Chiron’s officially announced there’s an hour left until the deadline, and then we all have to recite our mantras. Everybody’s going crazy.”

“Are you both ready?” I asked.

Will grimaced. Nico gave me a death stare worthy of the son of Hades.

I raised my hands in surrender. “Only a question!”

“I'm starting to panic about it a little,” Will confessed.

Only now? I wanted to say, but I guessed that comment wouldn't be appreciated. Instead I nodded and said “I've left mine rather to the last minute as well.”

“You're doing one?” Nico said incredulously. “Why?”

I reddened, and Will cut in before I could answer. “Meg bullied him into it,” he said. “If you're ever confused about anything Apollo does, 99% of the time you can blame Meg.”

Nico nodded as if this made sense. I wanted to argue, but I was aware I didn't have much ground to stand on.

“But one thing I am confused about,” Will continued, “is that didn't you already have a mantra, Dad? Why do you need a new one?”

Believe me, dear reader, I wanted to make a bad excuse and disappear to Olympus again. Despite my trials, emotional vulnerability was still not my strong point. But instead, I said “I’m afraid I’m reliably informed that it was, in fact, a shit mantra. Not very emotionally healthy. So I’m giving it a second try.” “Any luck?” Will asked.

I took a moment to consider. “I’ve talked to a lot of different people,” I said. “Many of them told me very wise things. But I think - and I will deny saying this - that my sister was right. It’s something you have to come up with yourself, because deep down, you know what you need to hear.” They both took a moment to take that in, or perhaps they were wondering what in the Hades I was going on about.

Eventually Will said, in a very quiet voice, “But what if I don’t deserve to hear that?” Tears pricked at my eyes, and I gathered him up into a hug. “Of course you deserve to hear it, Will. You’re brave and kind and a fabulous healer, but even if you weren’t any of that, you’re still my son. And my son deserves the world.” Will hid his face in my shoulder for a moment. “Thanks, Dad,” he whispered.

I pressed a kiss into his golden curls, then looked at Nico. “Look after him for me, will you?” I said.

Nico nodded solemnly. “With my life.”

*

But I still had one final visit to make. I found Meg in the stables, brushing down the unicorn I’d gifted her as my return-to-godhood present. She’d taken to horsecare - well, unicorncare - far more easily than I’d expected given her lack of experience, but she seemed to find the same quiet satisfaction in the manual work that she did in gardening.

“You better have some real good mantra knowledge to offer,” she warned me. “I got nothing.”

I sighed and slumped down by a post. “You’re not going to like it,” I said.

She huffed. Apparently that wasn’t even worth a verbal response.

“It’s just gotta be the thing you most want to hear,” I said. “The thing you most wish someone would say to you, but then you’ve got to say it to yourself.” “That’s stupid,” Meg said. Her shoulders were tense. “I don’t want to.” “Neither do I,” I said honestly. “How about I go first, so you can laugh at me?” “You’ve got one?”

I sighed. “Yes, and it’s the cheesiest, stupidest thing in the world, and I don’t believe it when I say it. But if I say it enough times, maybe I’ll start believing it.” Meg looked heartbreakingly fragile. “You go first, then.” I hesitated. The words felt like they were getting stuck in my throat. Trite, a lie, unoriginal, stupidly similar to a stupid quote from the stupid Barbie movie. But I needed to hear them. Not only that, Meg needed to hear them. We both needed me to be vulnerable right now.

“I’m enough,” I said quietly.

Meg blinked, and then launched herself at me in a hug. “I love you,” she said hoarsely.

“I love you too, Meg,” I said, voice cracking.

She shook her head, nose rubbing against my chest. “No, that’s my mantra,” she said. “I love myself. Or whatever.” She sniffed, but I didn’t even care about the cold snot starting to collect on my jumper.

I held her close to me in that quiet stable, just the two of us and a unicorn, and there was not a thing in this world that could have made me let her go.

sorry this is slightly late!! and the formatting may have messed up, the stars are meant to be in the middle of each line. i think i caught all my mistakes but this is very on the last minute so i might have missed some sorry! but it's done!

[ask-postcrash-curly]

hello, new voice here. you can call me fern…

i’ve been getting on track with everything that’s happened so far, and out of everything this is some of what i feel the need to tell

there’s something about the fact of misplacing your faith on the wrong people that gets to me really bad…

“…you know i believe in you. here. on earth. doesn’t matter.”

all of that, just to be hurt back in the worst way imaginable, and not only that, but also those around you

the disappointment

after all… the people that are closest to you are the hardest to see clear

he was attached by your hip for so many years that you couldn’t even tell that the mild bullshit he ever pulled on you was not okay, because they’re the smallest actions to excuse which you might’ve even never noticed. one grows accustomed to the feeling with enough repetition. that lash out he had at the party… that doesn’t look like something a real friend would do, and it doesn’t look like the first time he’s ever twisted your words that way either, talking about something you confided privately to him in front of other people too

he wanted to humiliate you

he wanted it to hurt

but somehow, some way, in that sick and twisted recess of my mind… i also understand him

i see myself reflected back when i look at him, but in the sense that makes me realize “that would be me if i was at my absolute worst” and it gives me this visceral feeling because our worst moments can make us monsters if we don't stop ourselves and take responsibility, which is what happened to jimmy as he became a monster of his own making through denial, and i can perfectly hear him asking: “just tell me that you hate me.”

but you won’t do it

you can’t

physically and mentally… even if you wanted

because you don’t hate him, it hurts to hate someone you thought of as a friend

but one could argue that disappointment hurts more, for all parties involved

and he knows that

…i get you curly. you tried, you really did

“we’re defined by our past, but not slaves to it.”

we have an innate need to see the best in people, so you love like a dog, i do too… but that’s not always a good thing

you just wanted to help the people who matter to you. you care about her, about him, about everyone

you have such a kind heart— so kind that it blinds you

and that kindness… it hurt her

maybe she won’t ever forgive you, she has the total right not to

nevertheless, it doesn’t justify what happened to you

she does not strike me as the kind of person to wish any bad on others for that matter

i hope you see that you’re worthy of deserving happiness despite it someday

i’ll be sharing songs in the meantime, i have plenty that remind me of you, captain ❤️‍🩹

…

He didn’t… No. He was upset. Lashing out. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. Or if he was, it was because he was hurt. He wouldn’t— No, no, no. I have to believe he wouldn’t want to hurt me.

But can I believe that after what he did when he made me take the pills? I couldn’t look away. I saw his eyes. He was glad it hurt. He was hurting, so he brought me down with him. I would never do that to my friend. I wouldn’t.

If that’s true, wouldn’t that mean he’s always had the potential to be better than he is? I should have— I didn’t get him there. And he’s said those words, you know? “Just tell me that you hate me.” Always makes me feel awful. Always acts like if I’m upset with him I must not care about him in the least. It’s easier not to start. Maybe I should have kept starting. Maybe that would have made it worse.

It’s only ever been me who could have helped him. If I had managed to help him when it mattered, she wouldn’t have needed my help. He could have been better. He was getting better, I really believed that, I really believe there was an option where I could have saved both and not neither, only I didn’t take it, I didn’t help him, and when Jimmy hurts everyone hurts.

When was the point of no return? It couldn’t have been too long ago. The point where it switched from help him to stop him. Kept clinging to the latter but never doing either. I could have stopped him. I should have seen it hidden in the upper right corner.

But maybe I did see it. When she told me, I believed her. I believed her. Hesitated for all of half a second before I believed it was true. Not believed, knew. Never doubted it. Never in question whether he would. I was shocked, wasn’t I? But I believed it without question. What kind of faith shatters that quickly? I had to have known!

I really thought he was getting better. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was a—

She shouldn’t have to take care of me when I didn’t take care of her. None of it is fair.

…

But you’re right. She’s not— she wouldn’t— she didn’t know what he did to me. She wouldn’t have let it happen. She’s a better person than that. God, what she must think of me… And to still take care of me for so long…

I’m sorry. I’m not… thinking very well. I don’t want to keep this up. The more I think about it, the more convoluted the memories get. Everything’s wrong. Please just play the song now.

…

It—it’s a good song. Thanks.

How is it that you all see me so clearly and still fucking sympathize?

[vampzity]

neglectful | FL

“It always goes like this, could’ve predicted it. I’m so naive to think you loved me for me.” — goddess, laufey

pairing: bf! felix x reader

after a rough disagreement with your boyfriend, you can’t help but feel like a terrible parter to him. he does his best to go out his way to show you you’re more than enough but unbeknownst to him, it was already too late.

[warnings]: slight arguing? self-consciousness. this is far from fluff i fear…! angst only hehe

word count: 1.5k

“You just don’t seem to care! All you’ve been doing is pushing me aside and I’m tired.”

You stormed out of the house, completely forgetting the lunch that Felix had packed for you. You’ve had enough of the excuses, of the silence whenever you were right, the “ifs ands and buts.” Felix stood there in disbelief, your plate of breakfast still in his hand as he hoped you would just come back through the door.

Except you wouldn’t, not this time.

There was going to be no more, “letting him off the hook.” Every time you argued, you’d let him have the last word— you’d forgive him so easily and let it go as if it wouldn’t continue again in the future. You were exhausted and you just wanted him to listen.

Felix wasn’t always this way, oh no. He was a completely different person back then, but it just left you with the many wonders of what had changed. When did he become so cold, so distant and why? For some odd reason he didn’t want to talk about his feelings toward you and that bothered you. Relationships should be all about being open with each other, communicating.. he was doing the exact opposite.

The cycle was the same, he’s cold, he’s distant, you comment about it, he brushes it off as nothing and then you argue. With him moving on like it was nothing hours later. It hurt you to see someone who you still cherish so deeply, switch a flip on you unexpectedly.

Felix placed your plate on the table, staring with a blank expression. There wasn’t a single day that you’d go without eating breakfast, especially not before work. It shouldn’t have. bothered him, but it left a heavy weight on his shoulders that he didn’t like. He sat at the table, pushing the food on his own plate around with a fork as his mind raced.

Was he really as neglectful as you made it out to be?

He glanced over to your plate across the table, full and missing your presence. An empty feeling washed over him— it was odd to be eating breakfast without you, as it was something you two have done every morning for the last 2 years. For once, there were left overs. Your untouched leftovers.

A frown painted his face as he got up to clear the table. He searched through the cabinets for a container to save your food in, but to his surprise there was none. How far in the gutter was his mind? Did you ever mention anything about needing more containers before?

Felix glanced around the kitchen, his eyes catching a small list against the fridge. He walked over to it and pulled it down, scanning it for a moment. Milk, eggs, cereal, and there it was.

Storage containers.

“A grocery list, for me?” He tilted his head in confusion, his eyes catching the date of the note.

1/03/25.

That was nearly a whole week and a half ago. A sighed escaped him as he imagined the many times you had told him to bring back groceries on his way home, or simply go and get them on his days off.

It all made sense now— why you came home furiously carrying multiple bags of groceries the other day. Why you gave him the cold shoulder whenever he cooked for you. He was neglecting you without noticing and didn’t even bother to see the signs you threw his way. Felix’s heart sank at the realization, feeling horrible for the way he let you feel. He loved you, he always did, however it was clear you felt that he didn’t anymore. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel less than enough.

How could he make it up to you?

— ✧⁂✬ —

You pulled into the driveway of your shared home, groaning as you turned off the car. You sat in your seat for a minute, contemplating if you even wanted to walk inside— it’s not like you’d be greeted with any warm welcome. A useless argument seemed more likely to occur the that at this point, and you weren’t exactly looking forward to it.

You got out of your car, locking it as you walked over to the door. You fumbled with the keys for a moment before the door swung open in front of you. Startled you jumped back, being greeted with a guilty look from Felix. You looked at him for a second, before brushing past him to take off your coat and shoes.

“Can we talk?”

Felix closed the door, trailing behind you as you switched into your house slippers. You ignored him, walking over to the kitchen to spot a small plate of brownies on the table. You raised your eyebrow, giving him a quick glance only to be met with a half smile. Sending the cold shoulder his way, you grabbed a drink out of the fridge and walked toward the stairs.

It’s been months since he’s made you anything, let alone brownies. Though to make brownies all of a sudden, especially knowing you were upset with him? It was unusual.

“Hey,” he grabbed your hand, tugging on it slightly. You turned your head to look at him, sighing as you pulled your hand out from his grasp.

“Please talk to me, I’m sorry.” he mumbled, searching for even the slightest bit of light in your eyes.

“Talk about what, Felix? I’ve said more than enough to you yet time and time again you don’t care. Why waste my breath?”

He gave you a small frown, accepting the harsh truth that you had every right to be upset with him. All he wanted to do was fix things and make you happy— was it too late for that?

“I’m just, I feel horrible. I spent so much time in my work, I neglected you and.. that’s not right.”

He looked away from your cold gaze, picking at his chipped nail polish. You sighed heavily, turning away from him and walking back up the steps to your shared bedroom. You dug through the closet and pulled out a suitcase, soon fumbling through the closet and drawers for clothes. Felix watched from the doorway, eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you doing?”

You ignored him once again, walking into the bathroom to grab things and soon placing them in the stuffed luggage. You closed the suitcase, pulling it off the bed. Felix walked into the room, grabbing the suitcase from your hands and pulling it to him.

“Hey, give me that back!” You tugged at the handle that he held a firm grip on. “I’m serious Felix, I’m done here.”

“So you’re just going to leave like that? After everything? Where are you even going to go?”

His questions felt like knives, turning and twisting inside of you. Still, you ignored them, yanking the suitcase from his hold and walking down the steps. You changed back into your sneakers, Felix standing a good distance away from you. You glanced over to him, watching as tears escaped his eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you. Brownies doesn’t fix anything, especially this and you know that.” You put on your jacket, pulling the car keys out from the pocket.

“I’ve fought, I’ve communicated, I even thrown hints at you and still you pushed them aside as nothing. Can’t you see it Felix? I loved you more than I loved myself, more than you even loved me.”

Felix stood there still, his face covered in tears as he wiped them away. He couldn’t respond to you, he wouldn’t. There was nothing for him to say when you were right. He had to bring himself to see the harsh reality of it all— he hurt you, put you last, every feeling you had at this moment was valid.

He wasn’t always cold, he was never the cold mean guy toward you, and the tears may have proven it, but a part of you couldn’t bear with it anymore. He showed you his true colors without a warning. He was more passionate about his work than he was of your relationship, and it tore you apart.

“Felix..” your voice broke, tears rolling down your face as you walked up to him.

You held his hands in your own, bringing them up to your face before you placed a soft kiss against them. You gave him a small frown as you wiped the tears from his eyes.

“I love you, but I deserve better. I’m sorry.”

His heart shattered at your words. He subconsciously pulled you into a hug, squeezing you softly as if he didn’t want to let go. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his head gently before pulling yourself away from his hug.

“Please don’t go, I can do better. I promise.” His doe eyes met your own, making you look away.

You walked back to your suitcase, holding it tightly as you made your way to the door. You stopped suddenly, taking in a deep breath before looking back at his fragile gaze. It hurt you to see him like this, but that was only part of the extent that he ever made you feel. He may not ever know how you truly felt.

“You’re too late.”

You shut the door behind you, tears streaming down your cheeks as you made your way to the car. The worst part was over— at least for you, unlucky for Felix, it was just beginning.

uh, i’m sorry for this LMAO. part 2 maybe?

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[writing-girlie]

𝚆𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙺 ★ 𝙹𝚘𝚍 𝙽𝚊 𝙽𝚊𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Story Summary: Fate had thrown you back into Jod Na Nawood’s orbit, and despite your history with the captain, you found yourself pulled into his reckless mission. A treasure map, precious cargo, and an entire galaxy chasing after it—everything about it screamed trouble but what wouldn't you do for him. WC: 1,372 Note: I don't know if I should write more chapters so if you're interested let me know

You were on your way back home from another successful job. No matter how many times you had flown through the galaxy, you still couldn’t help but admire it. The sharp crackle of your comms interrupted your thoughts, followed by the familiar voice of one of your bosses.

"Hey, Patch." The nickname drew a faint smirk to your lips. “I’ve just had a transmission come through, and you’re the closest. Do you mind checking it out for me? They don’t know what’s wrong, so you’ll just have to figure it out once you’re there.” Your job didn’t really excite you like it did at the start; it was just another paycheck, another ship, and another faceless crew who needed you to patch up their mess.

“Sure. I can do that.”

“The ship’s called Solar Spear. I’ve sent you the location, and as always, contact me if you need something. The comms crackle back out, and the screen in front of you chimes and flashes up with coordinates. You set the course and go on your way. Once you arrive, you see that there is no active power signature, and one side of the hull is caved in slightly, scorched and crumpled as if it had been scraped by something much larger. Your brow furrows as you assess the damage the best you can. Ships like this usually limped to a station after taking hits like those, but here it was, silent and adrift.

“Solar Spear, This is RPR-18. I received your transmission for help—you’re expecting me.” You tap into their comms, hoping that they're working. It takes a few moments, but eventually a response comes through.

“Yes, we have a small docking bay at the back right. Thank you.” You pull the ship up and land in the small space. The docking bay was small—only just fitting your ship. The clamps lock it into place, and the door behind shuts, so you power your engines off and get out, leaving your tools for once you knew what you were dealing with. When your feet hit the ground, the entry doors hiss open, and a young man is standing there.

"Thanks for coming," he said with a polite nod, hands clasped in front of him. "The captain’s expecting you. I’ll take you to him."

You follow him, walking through the ship and towards the bridge. The ship then starts rumbling slightly, and you hear someone call out that the backup supply has been engaged. The bridge door then hisses open, and you step inside. The room glowed softly as systems came back online, control panels lighting up one by one. The faint murmur of the crew and the hum of technology returned. But none of that caught your attention. Not really. Because standing right there was him.

Jod Na Nawood

The years hadn’t really changed him. His coat hung loose over his shoulders, a blaster was strapped at his hip, and that same cocky half-smile curled at the corner of his mouth. His hair was now streaked lightly with silver at the temples. And then there were his eyes, locked on you the moment you stepped into view, like they always used to be.

“Sunshine” His voice was soft, as if he were testing the weight of the word, but hearing that name on his lips again was like a punch to the gut. It was from another version of yourself—one who had trusted him, laughed with him, loved him. You force down the lump in your throat and steady your breath.

“Captain Nawood” Your eyes glance around the bridge, noting how the crew kept their heads down, busying themselves with their tasks, pretending not to listen.

“Captain?” He repeated “You never used to call me that unless we were off duty.” His smirk deepened, voice laced with teasing nostalgia. He stepped closer, his body just within your personal space, the heat of him unmistakable. “I always did like how you used to say it.”

Heat pricked up your neck and onto your cheek, but despite your best efforts to not show how it made you feel, Jod caught it. His smirk stretched wider, eyes flickering over your face, down to your mouth, then back up.

“What am I doing here? You’ve got the backup supply; that should be more than enough to get you to a planet for repairs. So is there anything else, or can I go?” 

“There’s no time for that; we have important cargo that needs to be delivered quickly. Can you just have a look at the main system and see if you can work some of your magic?” Yesterday you could’ve sworn that if you saw this man again you would’ve killed him, but now, with him in front of you, that wasn’t even a thought.

“You’re telling me that you’re working for someone?” you said, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “Since when do you answer to anyone?”

“Since someone paid me well enough to make it worth my while.” He could tell from the look on your face that you didn’t believe him. “You make it sound like I’ve never followed the rules before.”

“That’s because you haven’t.” You say plainly. He laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar. For a moment anger bubbled inside of you again; you hated him—not just for the past, but for the way he could still make you feel. The bridge door hissed open, and a woman entered. She had the kind of confidence that came from being both good at her job and knowing it. Her eyes immediately found Jod, the faintest of smiles curving her lips.

“Captain,” she said smoothly, ignoring you entirely. “The cargo is accounted for and secured. Credits, jewels, a few relics—enough to turn heads.”

“So definitely not your ship; otherwise you’d know what you’re carrying,” you said, eyeing Jod sceptically.

“I never said it was. And thank you, Verya,” Jod replied with a smirk. Just as you opened your mouth to retort, she cut you off.

“It doesn’t matter who the ship belonged to. What matters is that it’s ours now, and we need to stay ahead of anyone who thinks otherwise.” Her gaze flicked to you briefly, as if measuring whether you were worth her time. Apparently deciding you weren’t, she turned back to Jod. “Anyway, we found it.”

Verya handed him a rolled parchment, her movements deliberate. Jod unrolled it carefully, the fragile paper crackling in the quiet. It was a map—an old one, by the look of it.

“What is it?” you asked, leaning in despite yourself.

“It’s a map,” Jod said flatly.

“I can see that,” you shot back, your tone sharp. “What’s it for?”

“It leads to a planet,” Verya answered before Jod had the chance, her voice steady but laced with excitement. “The stories say it’s filled with treasure. Enough to make someone the richest person in the galaxy.”

“Great. So you’re chasing a legend?”

“I’m chasing an opportunity,” Jod countered, his smirk returning, though this time there was an edge to it.

“An opportunity to do what? Get yourselves killed?” you asked, your tone heavy with scepticism.

“Some risks are worth taking,” Verya interjected, her gaze flicking back to Jod. “Especially when the reward is this big.”

“And what’s the plan?” you pressed, forcing your voice to stay even. “Hope no one else figures out what you’re carrying.”

“Oh, they already know.” Jod’s tone was maddeningly casual. “That’s why you’re here—to make sure we don’t fall apart before we get there.”

“Great. So you’ve got a massive amount of treasure in the hold, a map everyone in the galaxy would kill for, and no real plan. Sounds solid.” You clenched your jaw and pinched the bridge of your nose, resisting the urge to throttle him.

“Don’t worry. The captain knows what he’s doing,” Verya said, placing her hand on Jod’s bicep with an ease that grated on you.

“That’s debatable,” you muttered, shooting her a glare before glancing pointedly at her hand, then back to her eyes.

“I always figure it out, Sunshine. You should know that by now,” Jod said, his chuckle low and infuriatingly self-assured. His gaze lingered on you, filled with amusement.

[bookalicent]

yeah so this was insane

[lilcathsmith]

Greg in every episode of CSI (176/328) • Art Imitates Life •

[zoppzoop]

GAAHAHHHHH