Losing The IDGAF War So Badly

The most idiotic thing about this whole genocide is the idea that once Hamas is gone there won't be anymore resistance attacks against the settler state. You've murdered 25000+ innocent Palestinian lives and left thousands of children as orphans. Do you think the Palestinians will move on after all of this, knowing that you've traumatized them far beyond our comprehension?

The Burning Maze is my favorite TOA book and it brings me so much pain… so much pain… but I LOVE IT!!!!

I love that Grover is in it! (He is one of my favorite characters from the series) and Meg dealing with going back to her childhood home! The Arrow of Dodona was, as always, a fantastic character.

It was nice to see Piper and Jason again and that, even though they broke up, they still deeply cared for each other. Caligula was such a good antagonist and Medea was also so good, especially with Piper taking revenge and killing Medea.

Crest was such a fun character and his death is kind of traumatizing, like, Apollo is trapped, in literal pain and forgetting himself as Grover and Meg were dangled over Helios’s essence and Crest kept distracting Medea even as he was stabbed by her like… that’s SO FUCKING DARK!!

I love how it ended with Apollo vowing to keep Jason’s promise to remember to be human.

Other miscellaneous things that I enjoyed was also:

Apollo’s dreams that involved Caligula, like the one in which he ordered a guard to kill Tiberius and the one in which he basically pretended to be the Sun God.

I also liked Caligula’s motives in that Apollo was VERY valuable to him alive, but rather than being like Commodus, who wanted to kill him so that he can rename Indianapolis to Commodianapolis, he wanted to take Apollo’s remaining essence and combine it with Helios’s to become the new Sun God (not to say that I didn’t like Commodus’s motives, it’s just that Caligula is very interesting in that he wanted to become the Sun God)

Honestly Caligula as a whole was such a good character. He has such an intimidating presence throughout the book, and I loved it when he finally got to see Apollo he kind of gushed over him, being excited to finally have him in his clutches, and I love how after Apollo stabbed himself he was all ‘I won’t touch a sorceress’s purse’ and how he was so upset that Piper was knocked unconscious. Honestly if there ever is a TOA show they gotta cast the Emperors right because all the Emperors are horrible yet interesting in their own merit.

I love the conversation that Jason and Apollo had before they left his dorm. I love how Jason tells Apollo that he tried to defend him to Zeus and that Apollo was shocked. I love how Jason made him promise to remember his experience being human and how, even to the last book, Apollo is still thinking about the promise he made.

I love how Meg is just able to show Apollo her memories?? How the fuck did she learn to do that??!! Also the fact that it’s never addressed how she can do this.

Speaking of Meg, I love how revenge obsessed she is, like she was full on ready to murder Caligula and how at the end acknowledges that she was taking her anger for Nero out on Caligula instead (not to say Caligula doesn’t deserve it, but moreso that she realizes that instead of confronting her feelings for Nero, she pushed those feeling into killing Caligula) and I love how Meg is such a strong character, having to deal with going back to her childhood home and having to revisit those old, painful memories of a happier time in her life that was taken away from her, and how, in the final book, she confronts Nero and finally stands up for herself and as she says ‘defeats the Beast’. I just love Meg’s arc.

I love Apollo’s self sacrifice. He has always been a somewhat selfless character, willing to save others over him, but this truly defined his character, how he was willing to do anything to save his friends, and how he most likely would have succeeded had it not been the Arrow of Dodona. I also love how Meg calls him a hero and how his perspective of what defines a hero is being changed.

I love how Wah Wah has SUCH a hatred of Tip Toe Through The Tulips by Tiny Tim that he would rather tell Apollo and Piper where the shoes are than to bear through the music.

I also love how, to me, the kind of dark comedy of Caligula taking your very words LITERALLY!! It’s almost comical how a character vows something only for them to realize ‘oh shit’ as Caligula gleefully fulfills on that promise (like when Wah Wah would give his heart to Caligula or how he ordered for a poets tongue to be cut out and dipped in silver so that they could see his ‘silver tongue’) it’s just… Caligula is SUCH a good character!

I love how Aloe Vera is constantly fretting over anyone who has any injuries. I just like how Apollo wakes up sometimes covered in Aloe Vera’s healing slime.

I love the entire Macro’s Military Madness section. I love as Macro was talking about taking Apollo and killing the satyrs that Coach Hedge was struggling to open a pack of grenades. I love how Apollo landed in another dumpster again and how he peed himself and got himself some pink camo pants.

I love Coach Hedge, he’s such a funny character, especially when he was ready to fight the Automatons in Macro’s Military Madness and had to basically be dragged away.

The entire section of Apollo in molten chains as Medea tries to kill him is such an intense moment. It is such a dark scene, especially as Apollo is loosing himself, loosing his memories and how he is in pain and his skin is being described as being cracked open?! It’s such an intense scene and is one of my favorite moments in the book and one of my favorite moments in all of the Riordan-verse books.

I love the Meliai and how they say ‘HAIL TO THE MEG’ I just love how badass they are. I also love how after they kill Incitatus everyone is just staring at the Meliai with shock and horror.

There are so many other amazing scenes in the book! Honestly it’s one of my favorite books of all time. Honestly the TOA series is so good! I do admit that Apollo is sometimes annoying with how arrogant he is, but his character development is so good! I adore these books so much, so if anyone can recommend me any good fics PLEASE DO!!!

it's a cruel summer (with you)

You and Donald Na get wrapped up in a summer romance. It doesn't end well.

F/M, Angst, Hurt no comfort

Inspired by the song 'Cruel Summer' by Taylor Swift

(and I’m drunk in the back of the car-)

You leaned into the man’s shoulder, cloth rubbing against your skin, your two bodies pressed against each other. You inhaled, and expensive cologne filled your nostrils, dampening your already dulled senses.

"But whyyyy?” You slurred, leaning into him even further. Your voice comes out whinier than usual, like that of a disobedient child, but you’re too drunk to care. The man next to you stays silent, and you steal a glance at him. His cold steely gaze is harsh in comparison to the soft fabric of his sweatshirt sleeve- lined with golden motifs and bought with an absurd amount of money no high schooler should have had access to. 

“Donald.”

Donald Na’s red eyes land on you for a second (you don’t know how to feel- elated that you caught his attention, or small, under his shrinking gaze, his silence a simple reminder that you aren’t worth his time. But, a smaller voice in your head whispered, He hasn’t pushed you away. And for you, that was enough.) before shifting back to the road. 

You follow his line of sight- red and green traffic lights and moving cars blurring into one under the droplets of rain beating down on the windows. To anyone outside in the pouring rain it might’ve seemed warm and cozy, but to you it was as cold as ever. You looked back at his face, his beautiful, angelic, face. Angelic, hah. Pretty, snake like red eyes that were hellbent on ignoring you, pale, flawless, undented skin, like you were looking at a marble statue. 

It was laughable how someone who looked like they could’ve been sculpted by God himself was capable of doing so much harm. (Some poetic part of you thought that your comparison of him to a marble statue was rather fitting- beautiful, yet cold and untouchable. You supposed it was the alcohol talking.)

It started back at the bar.

~

It was hot outside when you met him. The summer was in, and you were drinking your way through the sweltering heat in the bar. 

Donald was there sometimes, and he had always caught your eye. How could he not? Tall, pale, and tattooed, radiating an expensive yet untouchable aura, always watching, never taking a sip. It intrigued you, so much that one day you approached him. He seemed sort of amused by your arrival, and in a way it felt demeaning- like you were just some idiotic girl that he saw as entertainment. You pushed it away.

One thing about Donald Na, is that he did everything right. He was charming, bought you drinks and bantered with you, yet you knew that this man was a bad idea the moment you set eyes on him. You were drawn in anyways. It’s not built to last. That’s what you told yourself. It’s just a casual fling. You weren’t sure you believed yourself, as his snake-like eyes met your own (his captivating aura was even stronger up close), from your view next to him on the booth seat. 

He smiled at you (God, he was gorgeous) and you knew that your entire being was going to be consumed by this man, like he was a black hole and you were the astronaut who floated away too far from the space station. Only you were jumping in willingly. 

Perhaps that was a mistake, dedicating every fiber of your being to something you knew could only end in tragedy.

He started coming in more often, still never consuming a drop of alcohol. You asked him why once, and he smiled at you with that smirk of his- the one that said he was always in charge of the situation (the one that drove you crazy)- and said that it was ‘dirty’. The two of you talked for a bit at the bar, before you started meeting at other places. Late nights where you’d text him all of a sudden, asking him if he wanted to go to the park to ‘hang out’. Oh, please. It was a date, and both of you knew it. 

Other times he’d be the one calling you up, abruptly informing you that he’d reserved a table for two that night at some fancy restaurant with a complicated name that you had no idea how he could afford, telling you to clear your schedule. He’d bring you in, arm around your waist, walking like he owned the fucking place. Despite all the time the two of you spent hanging out, you didn’t know that much about him. 

He was from Yeo-il High apparently, but aside from that he was some sort of enigma to you, expertly dodging questions about his job and personal life, and especially his background, half truths rolling off his tongue as if he was used to twisting the situation to his advantage. That should have scared you off; a man with something to hide is not a man to be trusted. You knew that, and yet you ignored it. All the red flags that should have pushed you away drew you even closer to Donald Na.

You guessed it was just some dumb, self destructive part of you that wanted to know more, craved the feeling of having him open up to you when he was so on guard with everyone else, that screamed louder than the sensible part of your brain that told you that this could only end badly. So for a couple months as the two of you grew closer, you lived in a false reality, a dream where you were always aware that the alarm clock was going to come ringing eventually. You took a gamble; you made a bet.

~

It started back at the bar. 

Donald had to admit that when you first showed up, pretty face flushed from alcohol, he didn’t think much of you. He watched in amusement as you struck up a conversation with him, played along as you flirted with him, yet the more he talked to you, he couldn’t help but get the growing feeling that you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into. He was good at that, at reading people. He decided he wanted to see where this would go- talking to old men and delinquents all day was frustrating after all. He needed some normal human interaction too.

You were ordinary. And he meant that as a compliment. Frankly, Donald was bored of dealing with delinquents who thought they were tough shit until they got a taste of his fist, tired of the business meetings and stuffy suits. He had learned to savour the ordinary in his everyday life, knowing that it would fade away soon enough; sitting in his dark office, eating soft bread, watching the traffic below. 

He would listen as you talked about your life, about your parents, about drama at your prestigious all girls school, about your grades, just anything. It was so different from his dangerous, crime filled life. It was peaceful. Each moment he spent with you felt like he was pressing pause on his reality and jumping into another one, one where he wasn’t stressed out running a criminal empire, one where he could just spend time slowly talking with you under the dim lights of the bar.

But all good things had to come to an end. It was a cruel lesson that life taught Donald again and again, to the point where he got used to leaving and being left. He knew that this secret relationship couldn’t last forever- It wasn’t built to last. He had accepted it as a fact. One thing that Donald valued, even more than his criminal empire, even more than his own life, even more than you, was his reputation.

It was his reputation that kept him alive, that made sure that fuckers who would usually be trying to oppose him, couldn’t even look him in the eye. It was what let him lead the Union so flawlessly, and he knew that at the slightest slip up, the smallest mistake, all the scum that had cowered at his feet before would come running. Loved ones were seen as a liability in his world, as weaknesses to exploit. He wasn’t gonna risk all that he’d worked for, what he'd spent all these years building up just for a small crush, a summer fling.

He looked down at you, leaning against his body, his jacket over your bare shoulders. He would miss you when you were gone.

~

"We should stop meeting up." 

Donald’s icy tone broke the peaceful silence that hung over the table. You blinked, drunken mind taking a moment to process what he said. When his statement finally registered, you swivelled around to face him, grimacing when your head spun. Shit.

“What?” You put your hand to your head, rubbing at your temple; you must’ve misheard him. But there was no mistaking the way his light hearted voice turned hard, no mistaking the whiplash it gave you.  

“We should stop meeting up.” Donald Na always got straight to the point. Speaking frankly even when he was breaking your heart. 

You moved yourself off of his side, sitting up straight, as if his words had sobered you up.

“Why? What are you talking about?” You watched him- cold, red eyes and an indifferent expression. You felt your heart drop. He had to be fucking joking. Your life depended on it. 

The thrill of the chase was wearing off, and now it was time to face the consequences.

“You know what I mean. Let’s end this.” Donald didn’t look at you as he stood up. The last pieces of hope that you clung on to fully disintegrated into ash. You knew that face; the cold, distant one that he put on when he was annoyed. “You’re drunk. I’m getting a taxi.” 

You chased after him as he walked out of the bar, yanking on his sleeve with a manicured hand. 

“Wait- Tell me what I fucking did wrong. Don’t just leave, Goddamnit!” 

Donald sighed, and you knew whatever came next would be painful. Even if it was just the truth. You weren’t sure why you asked the question- perhaps it just slipped out due to intoxication and desperation, hoping to hear another answer rather than the one that you’ve already known since the start. 

A cab pulls up on the street before he can start. You get in, and he does too. 

Rain starts to pour as the cab door slams shut, and the driver steps on the gas, soft jazz music playing on the radio. Red, orange, and yellow leaves fell from the trees, your eyes following them as they hit the ground. Just like a movie scene. You wondered if there was a God out there. How cruel, if this was the fate that they had chosen for you. But then again, you did suppose you chose it yourself. 

Maybe it was unfair to blame everything on an omnipotent being you weren’t sure was even there. The calming music, and the thudding of the heavy rain on the windows made your eyelids heavy, but you couldn’t fall asleep- not like this.

“But whyy?” You cut through the heavy silence. Donald kept quiet, and the cab driver minded his business. Fuck. It felt like you were freezing inside the taxi. You wondered if the vehicle had heating, as you leaned into Donald’s shoulder. His sweater was warm. He however, was colder than ever, as he watched the road, like whatever was going on outside was so much more interesting than you. You took a moment to admire his face.

Pale skin, piercings and scarlet eyes. At least even in uncertainty one thing stayed the same.

“Donald.” 

He said nothing. 

“Goddamnit, you asshole. Don’t ignore me.” He turned to face you, and your heart leapt. 

“Goodnight.”

The cab came to a halt outside a large house. You’d been there before, marvelling at Donald's tall ceilings and designer furniture. 

“Wait-” You have got to be fucking kidding me.

“Get her home safe.” Donald cast you a glance before the door shut, and the car sped off. 

It felt like the universe was playing a big prank on you today. Like you were the galaxy’s equivalent of a little kid wearing a dunce hat in the back of the classroom and everyone else was just pointing at you and laughing. 

Hahahaha. You just got dumped, or whatever the term for what just happened for the strange relationship you and Donald Na shared was, and then stood up in the back of a taxi. Hilarious.

But you wouldn’t end things. Not like this, in the pouring rain in the backseat of a cab. The alcohol spurred you on, making you bolder than you usually would’ve been. You’ve already made so many bad decisions, what was one more?

“Stop the car.” The taxi driver cast a quick, incredulous look back. “Stop, now?”

“Stop, now.” 

The driver stared at you like you were mad, but you paid it no mind, pulling dollar notes out of your purse and handing it to him as he slammed on the brakes. 

“Thank you.” 

You jumped out of the car and into the raging storm. The water hit your bare shoulders, but you felt numb to the cold, your mind focused on only one thing. Your head was throbbing, but you were sober enough to walk straight.

 That would be enough for you, as you ran towards Donald's home, pressing the doorbell repeatedly. The storm around you didn’t stop, beating into you persistently, soaking you, your minidress, and anything you had on underneath. Water pooled around your feet, and you knew that the heels you had on would be ruined by the end of the night. 

Finally, the door cracked open, and streaks of light broke the inky darkness that you stood in. Donald stood there too, looking down at you with those vermillion eyes. His eyes widened slightly, though the rest of his face remained levelled, like he was surprised you were there but decided to mask it with apathy.

“Go home. You’re going to get sick.” His tone sounded indifferent, but you could pick up on hints of? exhaustion? exasperation? regret? 

If you regret it so much, take me back, you asshole.

“Tell me why.” Your voice came out hoarse, and you cleared your throat. You tried your best to stay still under his stare, under his overwhelming presence.

His eyes narrowed, and his lips grew taut, before finally, he broke eye contact and let out a sigh. 

Exasperation, you were right. 

You knew you were probably quite a pathetic sight; shivering and soaked to the bone. You hoped your makeup wasn’t running. 

“There are some things I can’t tell you. On my part, I’m sorry things had to end this way.” 

“But let’s be honest. We both knew that this wouldn’t go well, so let’s not pretend that you didn’t know this would happen.” 

He moved to close the door, and the pounding of the rain seemed to hit harder than usual. “Good night, and I mean it this time.”

For a second there it was as if you saw the grains of sand flowing down the invisible hourglass of your relationship, and you knew you had to do something- you didn’t know what, but something. 

“Wait! Please!” 

Donald paused. You saw his face through the crack of his front door. He looked tentative, like he was expecting you to say something. To try to change his mind.

So you did.

“I love you!”

You felt instantaneous regret as the words left your mouth.

You watched Donald for the hundredth time. He didn't scoff, or reply emotionlessly like you expected. What came next was much worst.

He laughed. You’ve heard Donald laugh before- usually just a soft chuckle in response to a joke you made. This was a hollow, humorless laugh that chilled you to the bone.

You’d practically studied Donald’s face, every soft curve and every sharp angle had been practically memorised by you, carved into your mind.

But this wasn’t something you’ve seen before. A devilish smile. How ironic; you’d compared him to an angel just moments before. Well, the devil came in many forms. Maybe Donald Na was one of them. You unconsciously took a step back. 

He caught his breath, and his laughter ceased.

“No, you don’t.”

The door slammed shut.

~

Pure despair.

It had been a while since you had last felt it. 

Truth is, you didn’t cry easy. When you got sad, you got moody. And when you got moody, you got angry, lashing out and sulking until you cooled down as a way to cope with the pain. Now, there was none of that. No one to blame but yourself.

The tears did not come out in a rush; it built up slowly in the wells of your eyes before cascading down your face like a dam had been broken, getting heavier and heavier until you were fully sobbing. You let out a raw, anguished cry, like a banshee in the night.

You had prepared yourself for this a million times, waited for this moment to come, but you never expected it to hurt like this. 

At that moment, you wished you were at home, in your comfiest pyjamas, taking in the warmth of your blanket. But you were crying on the front step of some man’s house, makeup and tears streaming down your face, half frozen to death. You should have brought your jacket along. 

Maybe this wouldn’t have happened had you thought this through.

Donald was right (of course he was). You did know that this was going to happen. You knew that this was the reality that was written for the two of you, carved in stone by the hand of whatever divine being was up there. And you didn’t love him. You just blurted it out of desperation to make him stay. 

After all, it was impossible to love somebody you didn’t know. 

Maybe you could have loved him, if this relationship wasn’t doomed from start to end. 

Sure, Donald could be cruel. But you were too, to want more than he had to give. You knew there was nothing more to it than a summer fling, and yet you threw yourself into it headfirst hoping that there could be something more. Well, there wasn’t. 

One part of you wondered what would have happened if you listened to your Goddamn brain and stayed away from him. Then you’d just be two strangers in a bar, with you constantly looking over at him in curiosity and him pretending not to notice your glances before finally failing to show up one day. Two planets orbiting each other, but never touching. 

(The reckless part of you, the one that got you into this mess, thought that it would’ve tortured you more if you had never approached Donald. How you would’ve stayed up at night, thinking about what it could’ve been.) 

You laughed in spite of yourself. You were gonna get yourself killed one day.

Numbly, you pushed yourself off of Donald’s doorstep, standing up wobbly, the tears blurring your vision. The cold rain had sobered you up, and your mind was clear. It was time to pull yourself together. You sent a glance back at Donald’s house. All of his lights were off except for one. You wondered if he had heard you cry. You wondered if he cared.  You guessed that you were of value to him, just not as much as whatever he was hiding from you. Not that it mattered anymore.

You knew you’d get over it eventually. Time heals all wounds, after all- like the grains of sand running over a jagged rock in a river until it became a smooth pebble, but for now, you would mourn. 

You looked around. The neighbourhood was a nice one, large houses lining the empty streets, lighted by rows of lamp posts. The wind blew colder, and both you and the tree skeletons shivered. The air had grew colder over the past few days, signalling the end of a long summer, and the start of autumn. The start of a new beginning. 

This time, you didn’t look back as you walked away.

'Angelic Reeds'

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capybara #130: pov he saw you holding a slice of watermelon

Ouyang’s internal monologue for Zhu is “he’s disgusting. His worldview directly contradicts mine. He’s insane. I don’t get how he made it this far except I do, what the fuck did he just do. Jfc he’s ugly as sin.” While Zhu is like “he’s just like me for real. [he just skewered half a dozen people and is in constant sometimes self induced pain] Some people would say this is a bad thing, but I was never a good person. No one will get me like he does and no one will get him like I do. he’s certified insane.”

One thing that like. shakes me to the core if I think about the radiant emperor duology. is how Zhu wanted to help Ouyang despite the betrayal, in a way that was more than just a convergence of their fates.

Two things: since the first book, we know they're similar, connected, and that Zhu feels this connection wholly with a fascination that slowly becomes more complicated. She is more open to the connection that Ouyang, because she embraces wholly who she is, knowing her otherness in a complete way that for Ouyang was only pain and self-hatred. Second, Zhu is incredibly strong, mentally and emotionally, in separing herself from those who aren't in her tightest circle. Shelley wrote in two beautiful separate instances in hwdtw how when you witness someone in pain, if you don't hate that person you will be contaminated by that pain, and Zhu has for most of the series such unflinching emotional fortitude that while she observes and acknowledges and fights for other's pain, she doesn't feel it herself, not completely. Book one ends with her killing a kid because he is in her way, we can't forget it.

Ouyang's grief, so potent throughout the entire second book, is fully understood by Zhu only when she loses Xu Da. And Xu Da's death, united with the connection Zhu and Ouyang have nurtured in their fucked up way of theirs, is enough that when Ouyang's deep-rooted disgust and refusal of femininity breaks their alliance, it doesn't break their connection. Sure, Zhu feels true betrayal, and mours the possibility of a future that Ouyang sees only for a brief moment, for himself after the end of his revenge, made possible by Zhu. But Zhu, who is so ruthless she is similar to a person who is more violence than humanity, kind of... pushes the betrayal aside. She will help him anyway. They have the same goal. She keeps on including him in her dream of a future, even after he betrayed her.

When she learns of Ouyang's death, she tries to be happy he at least got what he wanted, completed his fate. She wants his desire for revenge to have mattered for herself, to quench the doubt if everything she's doing is worth the pain, and for Ouyang, sadness in her heart. But she already knows somethins is wrong in the air, in the room where the Great Khan's blood ran down the tiles, and that's what makes me insane. Their bond didn't break when Ouyang rejected their sameness and betrayed her. The bond deteriorates only when his sacrifice was for nothing. Zhu aches for Ouyang. She carries his ghost with her and at the last moment, Ouyang would be her final weapon. Except we've seen how Xu Da's death changed things. How grief, for Xu Da and Esen, shaped Zhu and Ouyang forever. So the fact that the last thing Zhu does before starting her reign is fixing the bond, restoring it to its original resonance, is what proves she was going to forgive him, in a way. She was going to give him a place in the new world.

The entire book is a sequence of tragedies, created by love expressed too late, too little, love that was not enough, yet was also the cause of every tragic end. So there's a little love also in Ouyang and Zhu's tragedy, where their sameness wasn't enough, and Ouyang is the last piece of the old world, made better by Zhu's will for a better future.

Shonen authors writing a hetero romance: They bicker... But... They KISS?!?!?! Revolutionary.

Shonen authors writing two male "best friends": They are friends, partners, family. They complete each-other. They've been together for so long it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins, and they know each-other so intimately that they can predict every action the other will take. They're opposites and yet they go together like a pair of gloves, they're yin and yang, they fill each-other's weaknesses and boost each-other's strength. They wouldn't be alive without one another, they wouldn't want to be alive without one another. Even when they're on different paths, they trust each-other blindly. Even as enemies they are willing to put their lives in each-other's hands. Their life goals involve one-another, all the roads in their life lead to their partner. A part of one will always be with the other, no matter how far apart the fates carry them.

Random MelloMatt HCs

-Mello and Near call each other when they're stuck on the daily crossword. The phone calls consist of:

N: Eight letter word for stubborn. Fourth letter is U.

M: Obdurate.

N: That's the one. Ciao.

----- next day -----

M: Can you please, for the love of fuck give me a hint as to what the pissing answer for 22 across could be?? I haven't got a fucking clue. Matt insists its Impermeable but I KNOW he's wrong.

N: Matt is correct.

M: Motherfucker! Peice of shit fucking paper! Bye Near, I hope you have a terrible day. Matt says hi.

-Matt is a spontaneous gifter. Not only is he great at buying random gifts for Mello when he leaves the house, but he's also great at making them. Like out of nowhere he'll whip out a mini origami crane and give it to Mello and say something lame yet endearing like

"Hey, hi I made you something. Hope you like it. 🙂" And everytime Matt does it, Mello's heart does 10 million summersaults and he feels so loved he could cry.

But Matt also uses his gifts for 'evil' if he feels like being a little shit. He'll walk up to Mello and be all sweet like: "Hey Mels, I have a gift for you. 😇" And Mello is presented with a surprisingly detailed sketch of a butt. When he asks who's butt it is, Matt tells him it's Near's (it's not, but that doesn't stop Mello from physically recoilling at the mental image that brings up) and Mello doesn't speak to him for the rest of the day. This is Matt's favorite way of pranking Mello bc there's a 50/50 chance Mello will either laugh about it or become instantly furious with him. Either outcome is hilarious to Matt because Mello's reactions are priceless. One morning, Matt drew a mini comic of Roger as the Ice King from Adventure Time and Mello laughed so hard orange juice came out of his nose.

Mello ofc saves and cherishes all of Matt's little gifts. He has a sizable jewelry box that's filled with random origami, love notes, doodles/sketches, mini dream catchers, friendship bracelets, and a litany of other crafty gifts. Some are from when they were kids but most of them are recent. The few from the Kira case are the ones Mello appreciates the most. It reminds him of how even during the darkest moments of his life, he had Matt by his side; loving him and giving him dumb, cute little gifts.

Mello isn't very good at making stuff, but he does give Matt an occasional note or scribbly doodle. Sometimes they spend the whole day passing notes and sketches to each other. Most of the time they try to make each other laugh, but they'll occasionally slip in something romantic or sweet. Or spicy, to keep things interesting 👀

-Mello sends Matt selfies whenever he leaves the house. It's always random; most of the time they're thirst traps but sometimes he'll send a close up of him making a goofy face or rolling his eyes. When he goes clothes shopping he sends Matt pics of all the outfits he likes. Matt always responds with some kind of emoji, meme, or selfie of his own.

Matt adores all of the selfies and has a whole folder on his phone and computer dedicated to them. When he's sad or missing Mello, he'll scroll through them and it always cheers him up. He also sets them as the backgrounds on his phone and changes them like every other day bc he can never decide which one is his favorite (they're all his favorites ofc). Matt usually sets the goofy/unflattering selfies of Mello as his background bc it's rare to have a picture of him being silly, but Mello throws a fit whenever he notices it 😂

...

Enjoy some random hcs!

As some of you may know, these past few weeks were pretty rough on me and my family. Everything's alright now, but things were scary for a while. Now that everything has settled down, I'm feeling more like myself again so I've been trying to get back into writing. I'm starting out small with some dumb fluffy head canons, so I may make a few tiny posts here and there. Also I'm starting to write out the next fic request! I promise I haven't forgotten 😅 many apologies for the wait, but life got in the way.

Love you all, take care!!!

i love finding poetry in the mundane, and yesterday i stumbled upon something that just hits that spot

So, my partner has an old phone- It served them for many years now, but it has one issue: Charging it is hard. Their current charger is hanging on by a thread (literally), and can barely do its job. The phone and the charger came together: They've never used another charger for said phone.

Now, they've tried to replace the charging cord several times. But it doesn't matter how much they've searched what damned specific charger the phone uses, none of them work. They finally decided to bring it to a phone shop and ask what should they use.

The guy at the shop looked at the phone for a bit, and explained: "The port itself is broken. The charger you have works with this phone because they've mutually broken each other into the same shape, in a way that no other charger is shaped. The port itself has corroded in a way that only accepts the charger that shaped it like that in the first place."

And while this is of course a frustrating situation for my partner, I feel like there's a metaphor here. I could write a goddamn story about this. These two half-broken old things have been together for so long they've destroyed each other in a way that keeps them from working with anything else. They've hurt each other in a way that barely keeps them functioning together, and have been rendered useless with literally anything else.

This too is toxic yuri to me-