#entirely decked out in his clothes XD

[night-triumphantt]

Do I,,, post this at nearly 11 pm,,, I think yes I’m too excited anyway have kiyazan cuddle hours (which are always) @cashweasel I was good and kept it after the last time I showed u lolll it was really harD bc LOOK AT THEM

[pallysuune]

Summery: Rushal overthinks things while wandering the Nightfall.

Pairing: Sevatar/Rushal (just a little bit)

A/N: More a character study than anything else. I have a lot of thoughts about Rushal and how he could have come to be a traitor, and just kinda wrote them out in prose instead of just headcanons. xD

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dark, deserted places of the Nightfall were good for thinking. Unlike what many of the Night Lords thought, the Raven was not some broken, thoughtless pet leashed to Sevatar's side. He still had his mind, even if he'd lost any way to speak it in more than gestures and battle signs.

He haunted the depths of the Nightfall, the lightless places, where the only sound was his own breathing and the whisper of his clothes as he moved. It was nice, in a way. No reason for him to try pretending he was anything. That, itself, felt so very strange. He been pretending for a long time.

He had been Terran, once. He'd had a mother and father. He'd lived a portion of a life with them. Not long, of course. He was still young when he was chosen to be part of the Emperor's angels. He had still considered himself Terran when he joined the Legion. And yet, his skin color faded to a pallid, colorless white, his hair and his eyes darkened to the color of ink, his memories of a life before the endless war among the stars faded, and it became harder and harder to think of himself as Terran.

He was a Raven Guard, and nothing more.

And then their Primarch came, and he brought with him those who came from Deliverance, with their ways and their values. They remembered who they were, and their Primarch brought their ways into the Legion, prioritized them more and more, while it was clear he did not trust those from Terra the same as those from his own home. Slowly, the culture of the Raven Guard began to change. And Rushal found it harder to think of himself as whatever it was they had become.

He could no longer identify with his Terran past, nor with the Raven Guard around him. He was a pretender among them.

He drifted through the pitch-black halls. They were nothing to the eyes of an Astartes. He could see clearly enough. Barren walls. Pipes. Mesh decking. Things that skittered in the dark. Even he wasn't certain if they were animals from some planet or another, or something that had slipped aboard in the warp. He paid it no mind.

It hadn't been all that difficult for Sevatar to leverage the feelings of isolation and frustration. Maybe he should have been angry at the manipulation, but he wasn't. He was, in some ways, what he was used to. The Astartes were all manipulated in various ways. From the idolization of them by human populations that led young boys into dreaming of being one, to the conditioning they were put through, they had all been manipulated. Sevatar had not manipulated him since, at least, and had offered him more than a life of fighting for an Emperor who had used them all, in a Legion that did not want him, while he slowly lost anything that had made him *him*.

It baffled him now how his former brothers couldn't see that they were serving a man who was the exact opposite of what they claimed to stand for. He'd been vaguely aware of the hypocrisy of it even before Isstvan. Those from Deliverance claimed to fight for the freedom of human populations, to abhor tyrants like those that had lorded over them once. And yet, they fought for the Emperor. There wasn't a larger tyrant in the entire galaxy than the Emperor of Mankind. Anyone with eyes could see it. And yet, they chose not to acknowledge it. They refused to see it. Even he was guilty of it. He'd realized the truth long before he had joined the Night Lords, but he'd convinced himself that they were still doing the right thing. A tyrant, maybe, but the better of the evils out there in the galaxy. A tyrant was what humanity needed to defend it from the threats that lay in the stars.

Yet, that wasn't the truth, was it? The galaxy was no safer now than it had once been, especially with his sons fracturing.

Rushal paused, reaching one hand out to brush against the wall. Someone had drawn on the metal in streaks of grease and oil. A symbol that shouldn't exist, one that hurt the eyes to look at. He flattened his palm against the wall and wiped it away.

He had no love for the gods of Chaos. He had no love for the Emperor. His loyalties were his own. His goals weren't to unite or corrupt the galaxy.

"I didn't realize I'd taken on a janitor."

Rushal glanced over at the familiar, rasping voice, his eyes lingering for a moment on the form of Sevatar as the man leaned against a wall opposite and just behind him. He wondered how long the man had been following him while he'd been thinking. The smirk on Sevatar's lips told him that he likely wouldn't enjoy the answer. He turned, wiping his grease-stained palm on his pants absentmindedly.

"Come, the Kyroptera are meeting and I want you nearby," Sevatar said, beckoning him closer.

Rushal moved to his side without hesitation, and Sevatar's smile spread wider, flashing more gentle for just a moment. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Rushal's with a fierce possessiveness, teeth raking his bottom lip for just a moment before he drew back, flashed him a smirk, and moved to lead the way back out of the deepest parts of the Nightfall, and back up to where others were.

His goals were now very simple, Rushal mused as he followed the broad back of the other man: Survive, and ensure Sevatar survived.

The rest of the world could burn for all he cared.

[thorfemmes]

Hiiii! Im here cause i am enabled ! 😈 This one of the many ask i will be sending xD so how about eddie with a pluz size new girl ( i love this trope) who seems to be unfazed about yhe rumor and tried to be friend him cause after she saw how the others treat eddie she decided theyre jerks and decided she would be friends with the hellfire club and eddie cause theyre nice. She comes befriending them looking all cutesie and preppy then the next day she comes to them all decked out in goth/punk outfit. She has a wide range of aesthetic and doesnt care what people say ( at least she wont let them see it gets to her sometimes) i hope this is ok

hi! thank you for the ask<3 I can't sleep so you get this little blurb while I'm on vacation lmao

I hope you enjoy!

"And this is the cafeteria!" said the perky student council member, Kathleen.

You had just transferred to Hawkins High in the middle of the Fall semester. A long way away from home, you were a bit nervous to be starting fresh, but Kathleen -the student council member that had been assigned to help you find your way around and has been softening the stressful blow of your first day.

"Most of us have unassigned assigned seats, but you can sit wherever you'd like. You're more than wel-".

Shouts and laughter from across the room interrupted Kathleen. You followed the sound and landed on a small sea of black and white t-shirts and lots of hair. You watched in curiosity as a young man with a long mane dramatically relayed something to the rest of his group.

Kathleen looked on in disgust. "Don't mind them, that's just the freak table. As I was saying, you're more than welcome to come sit with me and my friends. We're very open to new people, promise!" And with that she left to her table.

The so-called "freak" table held your attention as you grabbed your lunch tray and waited in line. You were so distracted that you accidentally bumped into the boy in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you slowly made your way across the cafeteria to the freak table.

Hugging your tray close, you slowly approached the table. "Hi, I'm Y/N, would it be okay if I sat here?"

The entire table fell silent, gawking at you as if you had two heads.

"I promise I'm friendly!" You started. "I just thought you guys looked kind of cool. Fuck the "freak" label, right?" You cringed inwardly at the use of the word.

The longhaired boy finally broke the silence, clearing his throat and standing up and shooing a curly haired boy away to make room next to him. "Of course, m'lady," He bowed with a flourish.

You let out a small huff of laughter, setting your tray down and adjusting your skirt before sitting down.

"I'm Eddie, pleased to make your acquaintance". He went around the table introducing everyone. "So, what's a pink princess like yourself sitting over here with us? I'm sure the preppy counsel member warned you about us".

"I don't normally listen to rumors. And besides, your table looked the most entertaining by far. The cafeteria here is kinda dead without the ruckus you've caused".

Eddie grinned back at you.

From then on you held a permanent spot at the Hellfire table, your bright colored clothes a stark change from the darker clothes worn by the boys. Of course, your presence at the table placed a target on your back. Jocks and preps alike had approached you more than once to try and sway you away from the Hellfire Club before giving up and turning their backs on you. They hurled insults and threw wadded up balls of paper at you like the rest of the club, but it never deterred you. The boys at the table were nice and incredibly welcoming. Especially Eddie. The boy had gone out of his way to make you feel welcomed, escorting you to classes (even when he planned on skipping that period), hanging out with you after school on days he didn't have a campaign to run, and even split his lunch with you -often trading your carton of milk for whatever cheap brand of cookies he bought that day (you insisted it wasn't a fair trade, he insisted he didn't care). Everything was calm and peaceful until one day when you decided to shake it up a bit.

You had a wide range of clothes, who didn't? Anyone who stuck to one specific look was kinda boring in your opinion. So when you came into school wearing a pair of ripped black jeans, a well loved band tee, and a pair of Doc Martin boots heads turned at the speed of light. A stark change from your normal pinks, yellows, and blues, you felt confident until one of the jocks -Jason, was it? -stepped up to you at your locker.

"Did the freaks finally get to you, Y/N? You used to look like such a good girl, what happened?"

You scoffed. "You know, people can wear whatever clothes they want without it meaning anything. And don't talk about my friends like that, they're not freaks".

He took a step closer to you, all but cornering you into the corner where your locker was. "And what are you planning on doing about it, freak?" He spat. "Run and cry to the other losers in your little club? Fucking creeps".

Before you could respond a heavy hand landed on Jason's shoulder, making the boy flinch.

"Is there a problem here?" Eddie asked gruffly.

"Not at all freak, just having a friendly conversation with our Y/N here".

You looked at Eddie who looked ready to pounce at your command. "It's not worth it Eds, just let it go".

"Yeah, listen to your little bitch, it's not worth it," Jason grinned, knowing he was riling the other boy up.

Eddie shoved Jason into a locker. "Hey! Watch your fucking mouth Jason". He caught the stare of a teacher who began walking over to the small tiff. "You're lucky Mrs. Leoda is coming over, otherwise you'd have been toast, Jason". Eddie gave him one final shove before grabbing your hand and dragging you away from the corner you had found yourself in.

Turning down an empty hall, Eddie let his eyes greedily linger over you. Your tight t-shirt and black fishnets underneath had his mouth watering.

"You look amazing, doll".

You felt your face warm. "Thanks Eds. Figured I'd switch it up a bit, yeah?"

He let out a small laugh. "Well, switch it up a bit more. You'll have me chasing after you like a little school boy".

[bionerd2point0]

Congratulations on the milestone! 🎉🎉🎉 I'm just going to send a single word your way and see what comes of it... Pirates. 😉

aklsjdskdjf You have NO idea how much I was hoping someone would prompt pirates!! XD I loved the excuse to play in this world some more, and ended up with an entire oneshot haha

Please enjoy!

-

The boat rocks gently with the motion of the waves, a sensation that Jason has long since adapted to. He hasn’t had trouble finding his sea legs since he was a twelve-year-old cabin boy for then-Captain Wayne. There’s a big difference, however, between standing on a rocking deck under a bright sun, and sitting on the floor of a brig with a single dingy window for light.

There’s at least six layers to the grime clinging to his skin now, made all the worse by the dusty pile of straw that serves as his bed, but the water he gets with his meals has to be carefully rationed. He’s not sure how much Drake would care if he became dehydrated, or how long the ship’s stores have to last before they need to pillage another vessel or dock or… whatever Drake does to restock. Jason truly isn’t sure anymore, and while the other man has been a thorn in his side for years, he’s also a bit of an enigma.

No one knows where Drake came from, nor why he carries out seemingly random raids, and Jason’s unwilling stay on his vessel has done little to clear that up. Drake visits him daily to taunt him, bringing plates of bland food and playfully asking questions about Naval movements that he knows Jason won’t answer.

Jason wishes he could say he hates seeing the pirate. Wishes that Drake could be more conventionally cruel, give him something to truly loathe, but the isolation has been having no small effect on his psyche, and after ten days alone Jason craves even the short moments of irksome interaction that Drake gives him.

The long hours alone have done more to wear him down than anything else Drake could have concocted, and he’s not even sure it’s intentional. Drake’s busy, after all, and he’s been very careful to keep his crew’s identities a secret over the years. It makes sense to not let them interact with someone who may be ransomed back to the enemy, assuming Drake doesn’t have something else planned.

Jason fingers the thin lines scratched into the wood by his thigh. It’s still too early in the day to scratch in the next, but he wants something to do. He knows better than to give into the temptation, though. The days pass more quickly when he can look forward to scratching another mark into the floor at sunset.

Distantly, he hears shouts from the deck, words indistinguishable but carrying the distinct tone of stress. Is there a storm gathering on the horizon?

The distant barking of orders carries on for a long while before the stomping of boots descending the stairs makes him sit up straighter. Something is happening, and he doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Drake turns the corner and Jason feels a tendril of real alarm curl in his gut. Even if there’s not a storm on the horizon, there’s more than enough dark anger in Drake’s expression to mean trouble. He stalks over to the door of the cell and produces a key, which has Jason scrambling to his feet. All of their interactions have been through the bars in the past, even sliding the meal trays and chamber pot through a small opening. With the way Drake looks… Jason’s not entirely sure he’s not about to die.

The door groans as it opens, rusty hinges protesting. Drake pauses for a moment, taking in Jason’s wary stance and the tension in his shoulders.

Jason’s mobility has been pretty limited thanks to the manacle tethering his wrist to the wall, but he’s kept up with the exercises that he can do around it and was plenty strong before his capture. He can give Drake a real fight if it comes down to it.

“If you value your life… if you have any desire to not be tortured to death in gruesome ways, you will cooperate with me. Clear?” Drake’s tone is cold and serious.

“Why should I trust you?” Jason retorts. Drake’s not outright threatened him before, but there have been plenty of implications and attempts to tease him with ways to ‘improve his stay.’

Drake snorts, a hint of that teasing smirk slipping back on his face. “Don’t trust me, just trust that you’re more valuable to me alive than dead.”

Jason takes a shuddering breath. That… fits the narrative Drake has been building around him. “Fair enough.”

Nodding sharply, Drake produces another key. “Try to fight me, and I’ll have you hogtied, gagged, and thrown in a box with the cargo,” he says mildly, reaching for the heavy metal encasing Jason’s wrist.

Tellingly, Jason doesn’t so much as step towards the door until Drake nudges him towards it.

His legs feel shaky going up the stairs—jogging in place is no match for being able to just walk around throughout the day—but they make it up to the deck without incident. The sun is blinding after spending so long without it, and Jason has to squeeze his eyes shut as spots dance across his vision.

“Keep your head down,” Drake murmurs, grabbing Jason’s arm to pull him across the deck.

Jason tilts his face to the ground and blinks rapidly, trying to clear his vision before he’s locked away again. Surreptitious glances from the corner of his eye reveals the crew in their usual mix of terrifying masks and colorful scarves, identities carefully hidden away. They’re rushing about trying to… tie up the sails? Jason blinks, turning his head just a little more to the side to try and figure out why they’d do that.

There’s no dark clouds on the horizon, but there’s a little smudge in the distance that he can’t quite decipher before Drake hisses at him and he looks back down at the deck.

He’s pulled through two sets of doors on the other end of the ship, then Drake drops his arm and turns towards a basin resting on a trunk in… his room.

Jason stills.

He’s in the Captain’s quarters—Drake’s quarters—and there is very definitely something bad going on because why was he brought to Drake’s personal quarters?!

There’s a bed pushed into one corner and a desk in the other with a bookshelf next to it. A few more trunks, some paintings, a small dining table in the middle, and a place where there might have been a decorative sword hanging in the past… it’s honestly decorated quite tastefully, and Jason is left even more confused than before.

“Here.” Drake turns away from the tall trunk revealing a basin of water, some soap, and a stack of linen. “Wash up as best you can and change into those clothes. Hide what you’re wearing under the bed, and be quiet.” Drake glares at him. “If you break anything, it’s not going to be me that kills you.”

That brings up a whole new host of questions, but Jason dutifully bites them back and nods. At least he’ll be able to scrub some of the old sweat off his skin.

“Good.” Drake nods sharply and heads back for the door, pausing just as he’s stepping over the threshold. “Oh, and Captain Todd?”

Jason doesn’t like the devious smile that curls over Drake’s lips.

“If anyone asks, you’re my lover.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33807820

[hapalopus]

Cross Your Heart Chapter 17 live blog/initial thoughts

@karkalicious769 I've been so excited for this chapter I went out and bought snacks to really make it a special reading experience. I can't believe we're finally gonna figure out what's going on!!!

I'm tired of tumblr's image limit, so instead of screenshots I'll just copy-paste whatever quotes I'm reacting to. And I'm on mobile, so I can't do line-breaks only paragraph breaks RIP

Anyways without further ado...

The image of Rook in Max's old 70s clothes is delightful and I need fanart stat! at least in my mind it's 70s, don't ruin this for me dfghgdd

"a tiny part of Rook was thrilled by his lack of respect today." THAT’S MY BOY!!! He's really grown as a character during this fic and it shines through in little things like this<3

"Even his eyes were the wrong shade of green." Yes yes we get it Blonko, you're madly in love with Ben and have memorized every detail of his face xD

"Rook certainly could think of worse ways to spend eternity. He was glad that he was sharing it with Ben, even if only one of them would get to remember."

"When Ben made no move to take the origami rose, Rook leaned forward a few inches more to tuck it behind his ear. Without his armor and gloves on, he could feel Ben's hair against his fur and had to resist the urge to stroke his jaw." When I tell you I had to stop myself from squeeing here. Oh man.

"Ben turned pink, eyes widening at the gesture as Rook's intentions sank in. His lips formed a silent "oh" HE HAD AN 'OH' MOMENT AAAAA!!! Good or bad, is there anything more satisfying than Oh Moments? no. no there is not

"Rook took a step back, even though he wanted to be closer." Excuse me miss?? How do you make the simple act of moving out of the way give me feels????

Paradox's dialogue is on point, I am 100% reading it in his voice!! And by that I don't mean the rest of the dialogue is not on point ofc, it's all great, sfjjhfdk

"though Rook doubted that the man actually had a doctorate" get his ass

""At first, I wasn't planning to speak to anyone at all," Paradox admitted. "I was simply going to end this timeline and move on. But you're close to Ben— closer than you should be, even— and I must confess to a certain level of, well… personal curiosity." For all the meta talk about how Rook isn't cosmically significant and how this timeloop has nothing to with him... it's oddly satisfying to know he's the reason the loop hasn't been ended yet. Even if the reason is less "your existence matters" and more "your existence is curious". Also, Paradox being able to just erase entire timelines is terrifying and I love him existing as some kind of eldritch being who views people as ants.

NO WATCH BEN CAMEO AAAA

"To demonstrate, Paradox snapped off the end of one branch. Everything that came before still existed, but there was nothing in the future, and there never would be again. Rook tried to imagine time just stopping and couldn't." This makes so much sense!! I feel silly for not catching on earlier, but then again it's been a while since I watched those episodes :3 But god, this is a really good explanation and suddenly the Eternity ending (or what I assume it revolves around) seems disturbingly likely o.o

""No, Ben can't be dead. He isn't supposed to die. Why—?"" THE CONTRACTION, I'M-

"Rook stared into Paradox's eyes and saw the endless march into infinity. He saw nothing at all." For some reason this really drives home how... idk, I keep repeating myself, but I really have no better word for it. Paradox is a terrifying eldritch creature. I imagine his eyes, matte and empty like shark eyes now. Dreadful.

"He was seconds away from launching himself forward and decking Paradox in the face." He should've :/

I always get a little bit of second hand embarassment when a character bares their soul like this, but it is a really good speech. However much I may dunk on Ben, Rook is right, he really is just a good person who does good things. And who can live up to something as simple as that?

And then the ending. If you hadn't been generous enough to share the date for tge next chapter I might drive myself mad with that "we need to talk" xD

Gah, I loved this chapter!!! So satisfying in so many ways :DDD

[thebraingremlinsaremad]

Daily Blog #15: August 22, 2021

Dollar Tree is honestly pretty fucking awesome 👌👌👌

I set my alarm for like 6:25 this morning, but it took 6 minutes for the "Horsin' Around" theme song instrumental to wake me up. I was pretty tired lol. I just dismissed it and went back to sleep.

I only went back to sleep because I knew I had another alarm set for 7:00. That got me up.

I should mention that this was still in the RV over an hour away from the house.

After I got up, I went to go get a shower, and did so successfully.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten my brush this time and had to do it afterwards after my hair had a bit of time to dry, which did make it a little more difficult lol.

I got dressed and grabbed my stuff, putting it into my car.

I made it a point to see and say "see you later" to my grandparents before I left for the flea market.

My dad insisted that I stayed to say goodbye to my mom, so I left.

I did NOT have cell service up there, as was mentioned in my previous 2 blogs of which I could only post today, so finding my way was a tiny bit difficult until I got some service to ask Google to take me to "...".

It worked and I got there.

On my drive, I listened to 1 by Simple Kid, a CD I had previously purchased at a Dollar Tree location.

I got a call from the guy at the flea market saying that I had some people there waiting for me. He asked how far away I was, to which I said "about 10 minutes." Ironically, that call made me miss my exit, as Google couldn't talk during the call, and added about 3 minutes to my arrival time lmao.

I did sell the Xbox that he said someone was interested in. I got $40 for it. I spent 27¢ on it. Pretty good return if you ask me.

I couldn't sell it with anything other than a power cord because the controller and AV cables I had been using to play it there were for my personal console. I'm just glad I can actually hook my Xbox up and stop having to drag them to the flea market along with a small library of games.

Not too long after I sold the Xbox, someone came in and asked if I wanted to see some electronics he had in his car. I went out with him. It was a pair of 3ft speakers and a Pioneer audio system with dual cassette decks (although neither of them works) and a 25 Disc CD-changer, as well as the standard AM/FM tuner. Additionally, there was a Fisher amplifier and AM/FM tuner as well as a Fisher Direct Drive turntable. He said he wanted $60 for em, but before that he casually, and probably accidentally, dropped that he was just gonna take em to the thrift store.

Big mistake.

I got em for $35 lmao. THERE GOES MOST OF MY PROFIT.

Oh well.

I tested everything. As I mentioned, the cassette decks don't work, but everything else does apart from the turntable needing a new stylus.

I posted some new photos of the shop to Facebook, and someone soon DMed me about a stereo system.

I priced everything, and it turns out I have about $300 worth of equipment from that deal, the Fisher amp and tuner being worth about $150.

The buyer will hopefully show up next weekend, for he wants to buy the Fisher stuff ($185 with the turntable), the 3ft speakers, an 8-track deck, and a Kenwood deck we've had for a week or two.

The speakers are listed for $50 (and are worth around $100-150), the Kenwood Deck for $50 as well, and the 8-track for $35. That makes it about $320 in equipment. Since he's buying so much, I'll knock it down to $270 and essentially give him the speakers or cassette deck for free lol.

Apart from that stuff, not much happened at the flea market. I sold some records, cassettes, CDs and I think 2 DVDs. One person bought a VHS tape? That money was the other guy's though. Oh well xD.

I can't say that I didn't miss my wonderful partner while on the trip. I actually brought along the stuffed animal they gave me (who's name is Greg) and snuggled with him both nights.

I was very happy to hear from them UwU.

They let me rant and I let them rant.

I honestly give them too much responsibility over me xD. I'm like, "Okay, I'm gonna do this. HOLD ME TO IT."

I know I can't hold myself to anything I personally say (this blog being the only exception apparently), but I listen to them pretty well I think 🤔. If they tell me, "No, you don't need that VCR," so long as it's not some weird specialty thing, like a worldwide VCR 🥵, I'll be like "Yeah, you rite bro."

I love you man xD. You control my craziness pretty well. I'm so thankful for you UwU.

#relationshipgoals

So part way through the flea market day, I went over to Dollar Tree to buy some snack, but ended up looking through the CDs to see if there was anything good. I took photos of about 18 CDs and flipped through them online for the remainder of the flea market day.

I deleted the photos of the ones I didn't want and kept those that I liked. Surprisingly, I ended up buying 13 CDs there, but not before dropping them on the floor like the dumbass I am.

Also, sorry for all the nerd shit I spilled on your lap earlier. No one cares about amps and tuners xD.

I'M LISTENING TO ONE OF THE DOLLAR TREE CDS RIGHT NOW THO.

I already transferred over to my online library on iBroadcast and put the disc into my CD changer, which is now holding 164 CDs.

Its max capacity is 300 discs 🥵

WHY AM I NERD

Oh well

I like being a nerd gurl

Also maybe a technosexual 👀

I get really excited over some electronics. Like. REALLY excited.

Some editing VCRs are like "Holy shit that is SEXY. Look at those goddamn VU meters 🥵. And hhhh there are like 7 inputs on this thing and individual controls for left and right audio gain, not to mention Hi-Fi S-VHS recording. Hhhhhhhhhhh please gimme 😭. Why are you so expensive?"

I uh, mean, uh, *cough* look, pretty lights.

Oh yeah, I was gonna say the album I was listening to xD. MAN I GOT SIDETRACKED.

It's 37 Everywhere by Punchline. Def give it a listen; it's pretty heccin good.

Another notable album I picked up was Page One by Steven Page. I very much like the first track, "A New Shore." It's quite catchy and he has a great voice imo.

Also at dollar tree, I bought a regular bag of Fieras and 2 bags of Fieras Sticks, which were marked down to 75¢/bag because they're expiring soon.

I honestly like the generic Dollar Tree version of Takis more than actual Takis. They're a lot more flavorful when it comes to the lime, but also hotter at the same time.

Don't get the hot nacho ones tho. Hot nacho? More like hot pile of shit.

HAH

Goteem.

They're not that good xD.

THE REGULAR ONES ARE FIRE THO

"How do you do fellow kids?"

I got home and started working on putting the CDs onto my computer, and then onto iBroadcast, but not without first adding The Music Man to my digital library, something I had neglected for a month or two. The CD had just been sitting there lol.

I also switched my digital file for "The Black Parade" to that of the uncensored CD, which I had purchased before I event started working over 2 months ago.

MAN I'M LAZY

I eventually get around to shit tho lol. I guess it's just a matter of priority.

What usually takes priority is digging through everything to find something that I forgot about but then remembered, making a mess in the process that I would then have to clean up, at least partially.

I think the album just ended. I've been writing for a while xD. I'ma start "I Made You Something" by The Island of the Misfit Toys.

I'll tell you where that album came from in a minute.

In the meantime, where was I?

I kinda lost my train of thought despite reading up to see where I was. Oh well. On I go.

I ate dinner and kept working on those CDs, eventually putting my clothes from the week into the washer.

I FORGOT TO PUT MY SHAPING UNDERWEAR IN. FUCKING HELL MAN.

I wanted to wash em for this week 😭

No tight pants for Leonna I guess qwq.

Meanwhile, the box of my CD album cases is overflowing. I need another box.

I keep all of the album artworks in a big CD folder. That's almost full.

I wanna fill my entire CD changer. That's one of my big goals in life. Idk why, but I just wanna legitimately fill the entire thing.

My clothes are in the dryer now. I don't think I have the time (or energy) to fold them tonight. I'll leave that for tomorrow morning before work.

And God. Fucking. Damnit. I start school again on Wednesday. NOT looking forward to that, and neither are my 2 coworkers. We already have low enough staff, but only the two of them working is gonna be a pain in the ass.

I'll still work Saturdays.

I need to contact my guidance counselor to get out of the gym class I signed up for. I scheduled this shit before I found out I was trans, and I don't wanna deal with the fucking locker room situation 🙄 I have far more important matters.

Okay so anyway, the album I'm listening to came from a cassette. I bought this cassette a few months ago at the flea market along with a few others. The reason I bought them? They were all newer cassette releases from the 2010's, and they're all actually pretty good music from very indie bands.

Currently getting mad at iBroadcast's compression algorithm. It's unnaturally fucking anything over -10db up. Oh well, there's not really anything I can do about it.

I have like 13GB of music on my phone btw. That's about 3.5k songs on 268 albums.

I'm kind of an audiophile, but I'm too cheap to pay for a lossless service. Oh well.

They do actually have a lossless service on iBroadcast, but once again, too cheap.

Someone just sent me a friend request who legitimately posted that BLM and the democratic party are hate groups.

BLOCK.

Goodbye ho.

I don't get that. They call the democratic party a hate group when they hate people like me, and I, being more of a democrat although not fully because the 2-party system is fucked, think nothing more of them than they're very wrong about certain things, especially, as shown, that black people, as well as asian, Indian, native, and people of all ethnicities and backgrounds, are not equal to white people.

Yeh.

Totally.

You go buddy.

Anyway, yeah, I can, and do, convert music and video from analog formats to digital files in order for me to archive and listen to whenever and wherever I please. I've actually made a bit of a business out of it, but I don't get too much work from it. At least I'm not overloading myself xD.

I honestly have so much more to say, but I should probably go to sleep soon.

A few final shoutouts to the following people and companies:

-Dollar Tree

-Steven Page

-Broken World Media

-The Island of Misfit Toys

-Simple Kid

-Punchline

-My incredible partner QwQ I love you so much. Thanks for being the best all the time. I hope I can give you the best life ever.

Anyway I suppose this is goodnight. Lmk if you want a full list of the CDs I bought today! I'll link that song by Steven Page here.

And here's a good song from Simple Kid

I really like music lol. Enjoy these pieces.

Anyway, goodnight lol.

Lots of love,

-Leonna.

[chyrstis]

WIP Wednesday/Thursday

Tagged by @theoriginalladya @shallow-gravy @amistrio @redroci @fadedjacket @fromathelastoveritaserum @returnofthepd3 and @teamhawkeye! Thank you all, and while I intended to have this done yesterday, I think I know by now I’m mostly doomed to be late on this. Better late than never, though!

Tagging: @tommymillers @softmillers @sharky-broshaw @foofygoldfish @geronimo-11 @sneaky-apostate @finefeatheredgamer @ma-sulevin @guileandgall @twistedsinews @writerofblocks @painterofhorizons @seedlingsinner @hawkfurze @tomexraider and @ofravensandgenesis! And don’t mind me at all if you’ve already been tagged! There’s no pressure ever intended at all.

This first bit’s from my current WIP, and when I say I’m on the cusp of finishing this, I really am. XD I just had to get my head back in the game, and I think I have a much better rhythm going at the moment.

---

Rapping lightly on the door, Hana pulled it open only to be greeted by Roy. The older man dressed from head to toe in full hunter gear gave her a quick salute before resuming his perch by the boarded up window. He seemed set on watching the front - a smart move considering their people were still out there and fueling up - and she hooked a thumb through the beltloops of her jeans before taking a look around.

She’d been here a few times before. Actually had a chance to fill up the old junker she’d bought from someone working at US Auto here, and remembered being annoyed she couldn’t find a single motorcycle. How she’d groused over it to the point she’d missed the cut off for the fifteen dollars she’d meant to gas up to, and swore loud enough that the other person at the pumps avoided making eye contact with her.

God, she wondered if that car was even there still. Her newly acquired, but mildly crunched white sedan, abandoned back at the station with her half-drunk coffee still sitting in the cupholder. Ditched in favor of rushing in through the front, half-awake up until she’d joined the others and Burke, and everything had just-

Hana sighed. Rubbed at her eyes, as she stood there and finished off the rest of her cigarette.

Probably not, but it was a thought, and as she stepped further into the station as a whole, she shifted her focus to checking out the rest of it. 

---

So, there might’ve been an accidental kiss I posted last week or so, *waggles eyebrows*, and this is a little further past that point.

---

Hana burst through the door only to slam right into someone’s chest. Their arms flew up around her, keeping them both from stumbling to the floor, and her heart promptly did a backflip before jumping straight into her throat.

“Whoa now, chica! Something on fire I don’t know about?”

Gasoline was Sharky’s cologne in a way. A hint of it always seemed to cling to him no matter how many times he’d wash his clothes, and right now she was wrapped right up in it. Held tight, nice and snug in his arms as he steadied her, and she quickly drew back to get some distance between them.

“It’s-God, it’s my face. Just my entire face, because sweet Jesus, am I messing everything up today.”

Covering it with her hands, Hana resisted the urge to scream by a mere fraction, and took in a long breath before exhaling and lowering them enough to get a good look at him.

“Hi.” Angling her head towards the door, she set her hands on her hips and sighed. “Might want to avoid that room over there for a while. It’s not exactly empty, and I’d really like to give the two in there a proper banging chance, you know?”

Sharky looked confused at first, but the minute he caught her meaning both of his eyebrows flew up. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Fo sho. Can’t say I thought the prison was the place to get it on in, but you do you. And each other. Like they’re doing. …Probably.”

“Yep.”

“Yeah.”

He nodded, and it took way too long to realize she was mirroring him perfectly.

---

And this is the AU coming back to help me again, because my writer’s block would be cured by having Sharky joke about a spider attack.

---

Her smile froze in place. “Spiders?”

“Yeah, real big ones. Ran into a nest or something one day. Think I knocked it down when I was throwing shit up around in there, and it fell. Got right in my hair, and I’m trying to get them out, yelling and running,” Sharky said, his hands flying up to brush himself off, “just flinging shit off of me left and right, and John heads on in. He’s yelling too, but not ‘cause he’s covered in spiders, just ‘cause he’s kind of a dick, and goes whiter than a sheet when one flies at him.”

So, maybe John didn’t get that pale, but he recalled the way John had rolled his eyes in the middle of watching him slap them off of himself. Asked him once he was done jumping around to ‘stop shouting, there aren’t even that many’, and that’s when Sharky flashed him the finger. Gave him both, because he wasn’t the one fighting to keep any of this shit from getting in his pants.

The only problem with doing that was that he wasn’t ready for a spider the width of a bottlecap to crawl right across his hand. It was a big fucker, with some of the longest legs he’d seen in a while, and his voice might’ve cracked as he yelled. Again. Jumped back as he whipped his arm out in a knee-jerk reflex, and tumbled right off of the deck into the river.

It all happened fast, almost too quick to really track anything, but there was no denying what he caught before going under. The one thing that had him laughing hard enough as he’d gone down to swallow a mouthful of water right after hitting it, and that was the picture-perfect image of John taking a spider straight to the face.

“Head-on?” Selena asked, horrified.

“Directly to the forehead.” He couldn’t make any of this shit up if he tried.

.

[sapphireswimming]

"Gundam 00 - Lasse Mafia Fic"!! That sounds fun! *__* Also, "G00 - Fabulously Haired Science Squad", haha. xD

ahhh thanks for the wip asks! these are fun ones! :D

Gundam 00 - Lasse Mafia Fic (2019, 16k)

This started from a fake-title fic meme ask from @smartass-telepath​ that became what it did because @the-stray-liger​‘s birthday was coming up and we’d been talking about how there needs to be more Lasse content in the world. Then @ninthfeather​ was amazing and compiled a bunch of research links about the mafia once I realized I needed to know more before writing any pre-canon Lasse. And there are some headcanons from conversations with @durinswizardwheezes too so community effort here haha

The first 2 chapters of Deck of Marbles (ffn) have actually been posted!

There’s... at least 9 more to go haha that will actually probably be in several different writing styles? There’s a bunch more dual-scenes leading up to the meeting between Celestial Being and the mafia and it all going wrong, then a drabble-y chapter of Lasse and Lockon meeting up, and some probably normal-ish chapter(s?) after that of Lockon trying to induct Lasse to CB. I posted a wip from near the end here.

The problem is that this fic has basically been written backwards which means that the next parts to be posted aren’t much more than a couple sentences of here’s-what-happens-in-this-chapter

Here’s the first drabble of the bullet-time chapter:

Lasse pounded around the last corner as the back door to the building flew open. He had its cover for just another few seconds, barely long enough to reach into his boot for a knife before the sniper kicked the door closed and appeared with a smile on his face, handgun drawing a direct bead on him as he stuttered to a halt, eyes wide as he stared down the barrel of the gun.

Lasse was panting hard, thinking harder, though he already knew there was nothing he cold do. He’d gotten too far to make his escape now, but hadn’t been quick enough to gain the advantage of surprise or close quarters. Now he was caught here and he cursed in his head as his fingers clenched the knife tighter in his hand.

He was fast. And good at throwing them. At this distance, he could still probably land a fatal hit, but – he stared at the gun in the man’s gloved hands as his jacket billowed out behind him – if he threw it, he wouldn’t live to do anything else.

Then again, he knew how good a shot this man was. He was dead either way.

The man smiled even wider as he came to a stop opposite him. He was also breathing hard as he looked between Lasse’s face and hand, still wary of the knife, but knowing just as well as Lasse did that he had the upper hand here.

“Well,” he laughed, and Lasse was startled to hear an unmistakable Irish accent. “Seems like there’s a lesson to be learned here,” he continued, licking his lips and slightly shifting his stance as he spoke. “Something about… bringing a knife to a gunfight.”

G00 - Fabulously Haired Science Squad (2015, 23k)

This one was born out of tags by @ninthfeather and posts like these and then developed an actual plot after talking with @durinswizardwheezes and dannyboymw. I remember starting this one longhand in the car before a lecture at the Tolkien Museum haha and started posting it during the 2016 Gundam 00 week

The first 5 chapters are here: The Fabulously Haired Science Squad (ffn)

There are at least 4 more chapters in part 1 where poor Billy is trying to reverse the effects of Professor Eifman’s formula that gives everyone fabulous curly-silver-hair. Only for the military to completely misunderstand what he’s working on and decide to mass-produce The Professor’s highly effective top secret work for use in the Union’s next encounter with the Gundams. Which. Just about gives Billy a heart attack, makes Graham laugh harder than he ever has in his entire life, and makes Celestial Being’s lives a living nightmare in part 2 haha

An excerpt taken 10 seconds before a disaster:

“And the reason you’re wet?”

“I was taking a shower.”

“… in your uniform?”

Billy blinked.

“It’s an incredible time saver, Sir,” Graham put in. "You can wash yourself, and your clothes, and wake yourself up at the same time. It’s incredibly efficient. Just one of the many innovations the science squad here is making.”

Both men stared at him blankly.

“They say it’s more effective than the Mess Hall’s coffee.”

The officer narrowed his eyes

“That’s what they say, Sir.”

[jikook-love]

tricks and treats

a sequel to this prompt given to me two years ago(?) by @softnspicytofu​

“PLEASE DON’T KILL ME!” 

The blonde boy screamed in a terrified yet somehow beautifully melodic cry as he curled up against the wall, cowering in defense from the tall, grosteque-looking man brandishing a bloody chainsaw.

Jungkook gulped, as he saw those defenseless curled up limbs, those quivering plump and pink lips, and especially those desperate, pretty, half-lidded and teary eyes, he felt his heart do a twisted lurch as something strange was awoken inside of himself.

In a burst of spontaneity, Jungkook ripped off his mask and tossed his chainsaw aside as he scooped the boy into arms:

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you,” Jungkook’s voice was soft, charming and convincing. “We’ll get through this together. I promise.”

🎃🎃🎃

The seemingly tormented memories ran through the mind of Jeon Jungkook. 

“I still remember it so clearly,” Jungkook’s voice was barely more than a whisper, as it echoed throughout the room. “The beautiful golden of his hair even though he was traumatized. The relieved glow in his beautiful eyes when I revealed my true identity to him. The way he clung to me even though we were forbidden to touch. The feeling still lingers, the soft pads of his fingers through the thick cloth on my arm. How I wish I could just see him one more time and tell I l--”

“Oh my god, Jungkook, shut the fuck up.”

Jeon Jungkook promptly received a clown mask in the face, courtesy of Kim Taehyung who was still decked out in his horrendous gargoyle costume. 

“Dude, what the hell?” Jungkook scowled, promptly chucking back the clown mask at full speed, which Taehyung somehow managed to dodge with a yelp.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no fighting now,” Kim Namjoon warned as he walked in, wiping off his bloody makeup at the same time. “What were you even thinking Jungkook? Dragging a crying visitor all the way through and beating up everything in sight to ‘protect’ him. You’re lucky you’re not fired anymore thanks to my persuasion.”

“Wait, I was fired?” Jungkook asked in disbelief. 

“Oh yeah, they’re totally gonna let you get away with destroying half the maze. And their most handsome worker,” Taehyung grumbled nonchalantly as he rubbed his sore legs in the corner.

“Yeah that’s what I thought!” 

“It’s called sarcasm, dumbass. Not only did you break character--you broke everything else in the freaking maze. Including me.”

“But how am I gonna see him again?” Jungkook moped to himself.

“That’s what you’re most worried about?” Namjoon asked incredulously. 

Jungkook stood up and walked over to Namjoon with misguided purpose in his steps. 

“Kim Namjoon-ah,” Jungkook sighed heavily, his tone and face belonging to that of a man in his middle life crisis. He placed his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, eyebrows scrunching up even more. “What does money matter anymore when you’ve just met the love of his life?”

Namjoon’s mouth fell open. “Met him?” he asked. “You scared the shit out of him and made him cry and beg for his life.”

“After which I became his hero though,” Jungkook grinned pridefully. “You should have seen the tearful look in his eyes when he thanked me before disappearing into the crowd.”

“Pretty sure there were tears in his eyes because he was still half-scared of you,” Taehyung said pointedly, rubbing the sore spot on his leg where Jungkook had mercilessly kicked him earlier.

Jungkook shot a glare at him before turning back to Namjoon. 

“Hyung, you have to help me!” Jungkook cried.

“Help you do what?” Namjoon retorted.

“Help me find him again!” Jungkook spurted as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Namjoon sighed apathetically. “You think this is some sort of Cinderella story? Plus, how do you know he’ll even like you back?”

Jungkook paused for a moment. “I know. He has to.”

Both Namjoon and Taehyung face-palmed at once.

“You know what listen, why don’t you just wait for Hallowe’en again next year?” Namjoon suggested. “On the basis that you’re rehired and it’s really fate and everything, he might come back and you might see him again.”

“You want me to wait a whole year to make sweet tender love to the most beautiful person I’ve seen in my life,” Jungkook said flatly with the most sarcastic expression yet. 

Namjoon threw up his hands in defeat. “What do you want me to do? He’s one in like hundreds of customers we get per year. You didn’t even get his name! Even if I got into the customer database we can’t track down anything because we don’t know anything about him!”

“False. I know he’s an angel.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Dude chill,” Taehyung spoke up suddenly, patting Namjoon on his arm to calm him down. “The boy’s got a little crush. Cut him some slack.”

“Fine, whatever,” Namjoon said. “But I can’t help you. Now get your shit together. Hallowe’en’s tomorrow so it’s our last day. You better be extra scary for the mess you caused. Half our electric monsters are out.”

Taehyung patted Jungkook several times on the back. “Stop sulking buddy, things will work themselves out.”

🎃🎃🎃

Though he promised nothing, Jeon Jungkook was especially vengeful on his last day of work for reasons only he and his pals knew. Every time anyone came in, he cranked his chainsaw up to max and ran at them with full speed, sometimes chasing them all the way to the end of the maze without letting them catch a breath. Indeed, he was salty, and somehow he was also immature enough to take it all out on the poor visitors. 

“Is anyone gonna stop him?” Taehyung sighed about halfway through the day.

“Don’t look at me,” Hoseok replied, still in his bloody doctor outfit from yesterday. “I can barely even stand to be in the place I just need the money.”

“Boo.”

“You stop that.”

At long last, the night was finished, and the Haunted House closed down for the season. Finally finished, an exhausted Jungkook left his post and exited alone out the back, pulling off his mask for a breath of air. He didn’t even fully understand why he felt so down. He didn’t even know what he was expecting. 

It’s really quiet out here. For the first time, Jungkook breathed in the crisp Hallowe’en air. Certainly, it was very cold. Very eerie. 

Suddenly, he felt a pair of hands creep up around his waist. 

“AHHHH!”

In retaliation, Jungkook whirled around and tripped over his own feet, falling flat on his ass. In a blur, all he saw was white in front from him.

Oh shit. It’s a ghost.

Desperately, he tried to crawl away, but the ghost was quick to get on top of him, holding him down.

I’m dead. I’m so very dead.

He thrashed around for a bit longer, much to no avail. 

Suddenly, his eyes widened as he saw who it was in front of him.

“A-angel?”

The boy, still as blonde and beautiful as yesterday, laughed softly. Today, he was dressed in all white, which made it easier to misinterpret...on both instances.

“My name is Jimin,” he said gently, carefully. Jungkook didn’t want to move, almost as if Jimin would fade away like a dream if he did. “I just wanted thank you for trying to help me yesterday.”

Jungkook’s mind was a mess, not sure whether to be mad for getting the living lights scared out of him or grateful that his literal angel had literally returned. 

“Did you have to scare me like that?” Jungkook opted for. 

Jimin pouted (and it was one of the cutest things Jungkook had ever seen in his life). “You’re one to talk. You literally had me on the floor yesterday. You still haven’t told me your name by the way.”

“It’s Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.” Jungkook gulped. He didn’t know why he was so nervous all of a sudden. He had been so confident on making sure Jimin would fall for him as well but now his mind was a complete and utter mess. 

Slowly, Jimin crawled off of him, as Jungkook got to his feet on his own.

“Don’t you have something to ask me, Mr. Jeon Jungkook?” Jimin said suddenly, shuffling closer to Jungkook in the most endearing way. 

“Um...well...I’m not sure...I...” Jungkook started, but was cut off by Jimin.

“It’s Hallowe’en after all,” Jimin said. “I think there’s only one proper thing to say.”

Jungkook’s mind was cloudy enough as it was, so he wasn’t exactly sure what Jimin was trying to get at. It was only at that moment that he noticed Jimin unwrapping a sucking candy in his hand. He watched as Jimin popped the candy into his own mouth with a smile.

“Trick or treat?” Jungkook said spontaneously.

It all happened in a blur.

As Jungkook’s mind was still in a daze, Jimin was gone. His entire body had gone stiff from the sensation. Without even realizing, Jungkook was sucking on the candy that had ended up in his mouth, as he glanced down to the wrapper that Jimin managed to shove into his hand before he left. Squinting, he saw a bright red phone number scrawled on it.

Still sucking on his candy, his eyes still half lidded, Jungkook uttered the only thing he could manage:

“Goddamn...best Hallowe’en ever.”

🎃🎃🎃

“By the way,” Hoseok said to Taehyung as they walked home together. “When are you gonna tell Jungkook that Jimin is literally your friend from childhood? And that you were the one who invited him in the first place?”

Taehyung shrugged, as he pulled the lollipop out of his mouth. “Probably never. He kicked me way too many times when he was trying to ‘protect’ Jimin. I did enough for that boy. They’ll probably find out eventually anyway.”

Hoseok smirked. “Fair enough. Happy Hallowe’en bro.”

“Happy Hallowe’en to you too.”

-

THE END. 

just a quick little Hallowe’en story because I really liked that prompt and wanted to do something for it....now’s the time XD that’s the only thing i ever use the hallowe’en aesthetic for--fic writing LMAO. i get scared too easily so everything else is a no no lol. i’ll take suggestions for the future, maybe involving some costumes ;)

tbh, I was gunna put a warning for overdramatic jungkook but realized it’s not even far from the truth anymore so I was like whatever. also, with the way jeon is nowadays, i’m sure even if they never crossed paths and jungkook happened to see jimin someone, he would probably be /this/ extra. 

happy hallow’s eves friends~ 

and go rewatch that run bts ep

[sassyshoulderangel319]

Sleepover Date

I like the ASMR recordings so I figured I’d write 3,171 words of what led up to Kiro’s because... what can I say, I was wondering what would lead up to it and I love the guy XD He and Victor are my two favorites

Previous MLQC writings: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

My phone vibrated early Friday morning. I groaned with complaint and swatted around at my bedside table to find it. Once I found it, I peeked through my closed eyelids to see its bright screen with an even brighter smile and eyes on the Caller ID photo.

“Mornin’ Kiro,” I mumbled.

“Good morning, Miss Chips!” His happy tone was a little aggravating this early.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Oh. Sorry. Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah but you only beat my alarm by four minutes.”

“Okay. Sorry again. I forget that you don’t have to wake up for a morning workout.”

“Thank the heavens,” I muttered. “So, what’s up? To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

He giggled like a schoolboy through the phone. “I was just wondering if you’d like to have a sleepover tonight!”

“Uh… what?”

“A sleepover! I’ll come pick you up after work and we’ll eat junk food and watch movies and just hang out, y’know? As friends. I haven’t done something fun like that in years.”

I blinked, brain slowly catching up to me. “Uh, Kiro?”

“Yes?”

“We’re, uh, we’re twenty-two,” I pointed out.

“So what? That means we can’t have a fun sleepover?” Kiro asked, sharper than I thought he’d be.

“Uh… I guess not.”

“So you’ll come over tonight?”

“Sure,” I said.

I could hear the celebratory tone of his voice as he cried out, “Yes! Text me when you get home from work. By the time I make it to your place from mine you should have enough time to throw an overnight bag together, right?”

“Probably, if you don’t mind me being super casual.”

“Mind? Why on Earth would I mind? Heck, I welcome it! I’m gonna be one-hundred-percent casual too! Oh this is going to be great! We can put the couch cushions on the floor like we’re little kids and just have a good time!” He sounded so happy that I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Okay. I’m excited now. I’ll see you tonight,” I said.

“See you tonight!” He giggled again and hung up.

I set my phone back on the bedside table and hopped out of bed. I pulled on a more casual outfit for a Friday and threw a few things onto my bed that I could pack when I got home after work.

Once I ate breakfast and finished getting ready, I rushed out the door and headed for the office. A sleepover. With Kiro. Oh my word. This was either going to be insanely fun, or a disaster. Probably the former, but sometimes stuff happened. I was really looking forward to a sleepover.

It was kind of amusing—thousands of die-hard fans only dreamt of having a sleepover with Kiro at his house and I actually got to do it. Because we were friends.

Real friends.

All day I could barely focus on work. Neither could anyone else—it was Friday—but I was too excited for tonight. Victor noticed in my over-the-phone report that I seemed distracted and decided before I could even explain that I was just looking forward to some plans for tonight he decided that we’d finish the report on Monday.

Even better. One less task and no berating.

The day passed quickly after that.

Before I knew it, my phone was to my ear.

“Miss Chips!” Kiro greeted brightly.

“Hey! I just walked out of my building, so I’ll be home soon and then packed. I just thought I’d give you a little extra heads-up.”

“Aw! So thoughtful! Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe and sound and home and then I’ll leave to come get you so you have time to pack!”

“Sounds like a plan. See you soon!”

“See you soon! Aw man, I am so excited for tonight!”

I laughed. “Me too. Thanks for the invite!”

“Of course!”

I was on Cloud Nine all the way back to my apartment. When I got there, I texted Kiro that I was home safe and packing up. I got back a string of emojis that seemed to be mostly of the happy and excited variety.

Once at home, I changed into a more comfortable set of clothes and got started.

While I packed my overnight bag, I listened to one of his albums in the old CD player I kept on the floor of my closet. There was something fun about CDs that I just didn’t get with my phone. They didn’t feel quite the same to listen to. Sure phone audio in my headphones sounded clearer than my slightly-fuzzy old CD player speakers, but with the CD player I felt like I was a kid again—before phones were so commonplace.

I sang along and giggled to myself as I packed. Pajamas, change of clothes for tomorrow, toiletries, some snacks, a book, a couple of my favorite movies, water bottle, hairbrush, all the normal sleepover stuff. I also threw in a pack of cards in case we wanted to play a card game.

Though I was positive that with money like his, Kiro probably owned a deck of cards. Still. I liked mine. They were soft and easy to shuffle after years of use.

I was in the middle of singing the chorus to one of Kiro’s songs when I heard an excited knock at the door. I shut the music off and rushed over to peek through the peephole. I figured only one person I knew would be that excited, but I imagined Gavin might also share some enthusiasm when he was in a good mood.

But no. A head of gold hair was standing out in the hallway. I yanked the door open. “Hi!” I greeted.

“Hey there, Miss Chips!” Kiro greeted brightly, giving me a hug. “You all ready?”

“Yup. Let me grab my bag—”

“Now. What kind of gentleman would I be if I let you do that?” Kiro teased.

I snorted. “That sounds like an excuse to go in my bedroom,” I joked. Kiro’s ears turned a vibrant shade of red.

“N-no! That’s—that’s totally not what I meant!”

But I just kept laughing, my own face going red. “I knooow. I’m just playing around. Let me grab it out of my room and then, if you really want, you can help me with it. But I can totally handle it on my own. There’s barely anything in it apart from the obvious sleepover supplies.”

Kiro laughed too, slightly more awkward than mine. “Oh. Okay,” he said.

I went to my room and grabbed my bag, hauling it off my bed and rolling it out into the main room. Kiro was standing just inside the doorway looking around.

“Is that a cello?” He pointed to the instrument near my window.

“Yup,” I replied.

“I didn’t know you played.”

I shrugged. “I’m better at piano but my cello tends to attract fewer complaints from my neighbors. I have a keyboard with headphones in my room for when I want to play piano.”

Kiro glanced at the door I’d come out of. “You can come play at my place any time you want, if you want! I have a real piano that you can play to your heart’s content!”

I smiled. “You’re sweet, Kiro. Thank you. I’ll probably take you up on that. Electronic keyboards aren’t the same.”

“I agree. Now come on.” He swiped my rolling bag’s handle from my hand and offered me his other elbow before I could complain. “Shall we set out on our grand sleepover adventure?”

I laughed, looping my arm through his. “We shall!”

Stepping out, I locked the door behind me—

And heard a familiar voice that wasn’t Kiro’s asking my name.

Once the key was out of the lock I turned around, other hand still on Kiro’s arm. “Hi Lucien! This is a friend of mine. We’re just going to, uh…” How was I meant to say “have a sleepover” without sounding like a kid? If I even brought up the word “sleepover” in Victor’s presence—heaven forbid—I’d never hear the end of it. Lucien was a little more understanding, but still, I liked to have some dignity.

“I’m a musician,” Kiro cut in. “We’re going to my place to record her playing the piano.”

I squeezed his elbow in thanks.

Lucien seemed vaguely curious. “Sounds like an enjoyable activity. I hope you have a good time.” That last sentence was directed entirely at me—like Kiro didn’t even exist. Since Kiro was usually the center of attention, I wondered if he was irritated or relieved that Lucien wasn’t paying him any attention at all.

“We will. Thanks. See you later, Lucien!” I said as Kiro and I resumed our walk to the elevator. I waved over my shoulder. Lucien waved back. The elevator doors closed and cut off our view.

I sighed in relief.

“Whew. Thanks. Lucien’s an understanding guy but trying to explain a sleepover to my neighbor when we’re both adults just seemed… awkward,” I said.

Kiro couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. “Yeah, that’s why I said we were gonna record and I threw in the piano because… I’ve never heard you sing.”

I made a face as we reached the ground floor. “I’m okay at singing but I’m a much better pianist.”

“Well, you’ll have to sing for me tonight and I’ll be the judge of that,” he teased as we left my building and got in his car.

The drive to his house took a while, but we laughed and chatted the whole way so it didn’t feel that long. Kiro drove markedly slower than Victor did. Victor always seemed to speed everywhere. Kiro didn’t appear to be in any sort of rush. He followed the speed limit signs anyway. And he didn’t needle me for looking at him a lot. Especially when he was talking. Victor would have needled—“You’re looking at my face. Why?” Or something along those lines.

Kiro was very different. Friendly, open, sunshiney.

When we got to his house—villa—he got the door for me and got my bag before leading me inside. He had a nice, warmly-decorated interior. Sure it was spacious—I could probably fit most of my apartment in the foyer alone—but it didn’t have a cold, minimalistic, white look to it that other fancy mansions I’d seen on TV and been in for work had.

His was decorated in pale yellows and other complementary shades, giving the atmosphere a warm homeliness.

“Your place is so pretty!” I couldn’t stop myself from blurting out.

Kiro just chuckled. “Thanks! I didn’t do any of the interior designing but I did say I didn’t want it to feel empty. So there’s stuff everywhere.”

I glanced over at him playfully. “And… where’s Key’s secret room?”

He laughed. “Oh, Key doesn’t need one,” he said. “None of Key’s electronics are suspicious enough that they can’t be stored out in the open. Because Key isn’t an amateur.” He ruffled my hair teasingly—then sobered up. “Okay, no, but seriously, I don’t keep much equipment. Don’t really need to.” He shrugged and changed the subject. “Anyway! Lounge is through here. I got out some snacks. I also thought we could order pizza or something.” He led me through a double glass door with gossamer curtains on the other side to a nice, warm-toned lounge room.

It was decorated in creams and with red accents like throw pillows. I smiled upon seeing it.

“Your house is so beautiful.”

The tips of Kiro’s ears went red. “Thanks,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

I smiled. “My pleasure.” I plopped onto the creamy sofa and looked around casually. “So. What movies did you have in mind to watch tonight? I don’t have any particular preference as long as it’s not gory or gross and it might be fun to go on a run to the store to rent one and—what? Why are you staring at me like I just stabbed a cake with a pencil?”

“You can rent movies?!” Kiro demanded.

I blinked, confused. “Uh… yeah. It’s cheaper than buying them and when you have no intention of watching a movie more than once it’s really the best option. You didn’t know that?”

“No!”

My posture slouched. “Oh. Well. Okay,” I said, unsure of how else to respond to that without sarcastic contempt for privileged lifestyles that allow someone to just outright buy a movie they’re going to watch once and then never again.

Kiro dropped onto the sofa next to me and grabbed my shoulders. “Let’s do it! Let’s rent a movie!”

His innocent excitement made me laugh. “Okay, okay. Let’s just make sure you don’t look like you so no one mobs you at a supermarket movie rental kiosk.”

“Definitely! Let me go get my disguise stuff!” He hopped to his feet and ran out of the lounge room.

“You’re not wearing a teddy bear costume to the supermarket, okay?!” I called after him.

“No duh!” he shouted back.

Shaking my head in amusement, I pulled out my phone and started looking up new movies we could rent. Somewhere else in the villa, I could hear Kiro bustling around in a hurry, knocking stuff over with quiet exclamations of, “Shoot!”

After a few minutes, he reappeared in the lounge room, wearing a pair of hipster glasses, a dark outfit, and a floppy beanie over his bright hair. “How do I look?” He beamed at me, spreading his hands out and giving me a spin like he was showing off a concert look to his stylist.

“Decidedly not like the Kiro that gets mobbed by fans the second he exits the door,” I teased.

Kiro pumped his fist in the air. “Bullseye!”

I laughed. “Let’s get going, you dork.”

“You know what will really throw people off from believing I’m Kiro,” he remarked as we headed out of the lounge. Before I could even open my mouth to ask what would make him look different, he reached out and took my hand. “Holding your hand. As far as the world knows, I am single as a Pringle, baby!” His giggle made me laugh as we wandered out of the door.

He opened the door to the car for me and helped me in before circling the car and ducking into the driver’s side.

We drove to the store, chatting and laughing all the way.

“I hope I can say this without sounding weird,” I began, “but I really love hanging out with you.”

Kiro shot me a quick glance before returning his gaze to the road. There was a sparkle in his eyes. As usual. “Me too. You’re, like, the only normal part of my life. And even then… we’re both Evolvers. But you’re rarely hustling me around sets or concert venues or nagging after me like my manager does. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate his hard work but I always feel like I can relax around you. And just be me. Not my public face. Heck, you even know about Key.” He gave me another quick look, this one accompanied by a sly smile. “I really love hanging out with you too,” he added.

I smiled at him. “I’m glad. Did I sound weird?”

“Not at all. I’d hope that at this point we’d be close enough friends that you could admit you actually like being around me.” He laughed at his own joke—prompting me to join in. “That’s kinda the point of being friends, right?”

I nodded. “Right.”

***

A pair of strong arms scooped me up from where I was half-dozing on the sofa cushions on the floor. A gentle rocking sensation alerted my brain that whoever had picked me up was walking. And by “whoever,” I mean Kiro. Because there was no one else in the house besides us two. My brain was just slow at processing when it was sleepy.

After a few moments of the rocking, I was placed gently on a soft mattress.

Footsteps moved away from me.

“Kiro… stay…” I mumbled. “Please?”

There was a pause. Footsteps returned.

“Still don’t want to sleep?” His voice was tired and soft, but I could sense his usual energy and enthusiasm behind it. “If you don’t want to sleep… how ‘bout we find something to do?”

My brain activity picked up enough to register the question. I nodded.

“Well… what do you want to do?”

I thought for a moment. What did I want to do? It felt like we’d done everything that classic sleepovers involved. Kiro continued before I could answer after a moment of silence.

“Wanna play games? Or… wanna hear me sing?”

I definitely didn’t miss the flirtatious tone to that second question, but was too out of it to be embarrassed.

“I always wanna hear you sing,” I said.

Kiro smiled, but then his expression fell. “But… we seem to do those pretty often…”

I hummed in agreement. There was a long pause between the two of us while we thought up ideas for what to do. It was late and we were both tired, but apparently not tired enough to sleep. Kiro perched on the edge of the bed he’d set me in and settled comfortably.

“How about…” he began. “Let’s do something else.”

“No duh, Sherlock,” I muttered under my breath. He didn’t seem to hear me.

“Oh I know,” he said, softly, as though a glimmer of light illuminated a perfect idea, “read poetry?” His face leaned in close to mine. “Do you want to hear some?”

I hummed thoughtfully. I’d really rather hear him sing, but if he was determined to do something else, poetry was the next-best thing.

“Sure,” I mumbled.

He smiled. “Okay, okay. Let me look…” He trailed off. I felt him get off the bed and walk over to the other side. I heard him pour a glass of water and set it on the bedside next to me before going to look at a shelf on the wall. I barely processed his noise as he looked for some poetry to read.

After a minute or two—time was hard to tell when I was so tired—he came back, sitting on the edge of the bed again. He flipped through a few pages, some faster than others, looking through the book.

“Oh! This one is good,” he said, enthusiastic but quiet. He giggled. “Okay! Ask me why I picked this one!”

“Why did you pick this one?” I mumbled.

“Because this poem… it expresses how I feel…” His voice went from speaking low to a whisper. He scooted closer and gathered me to him. “And now, holding you in my arms, I will read you this poem.”

He paused. Probably for dramatic effect, and took a deep breath.

“Let’s start. You may not believe I have often imagined you…”

[bnha-hq]

Ah hell yeah! How about Sero, Oikawa and Kuroo w/ their bf's at pride? TYSM from the biggest gay XD

Sero

It was more than likely your idea to go and Sero agreed

It’s his first pride and he’s super excited

You’d both be completely decked out in rainbows, glitter and the gayest clothes you could find

He’d buy all types of merchandise, even with flags that he doesn’t identify as

He gives them to people who do but can’t afford it themselves

The rest of the Bakusquad come along too

They go off and do their own thing but they come back every now and then, all a little more colourful than when they left

Sero has a great time overall and vows to come again next time

Oikawa

It is certainly not his first rodeo

He has been to plenty of prides before so he knows the ropes of these things pretty well

But!

This is his first pride with a bae! And he’s so excited!

He’ll give you the run down on safe pride tips

“Babe, if you take your eyes off your drink, it’s no longer yours understand?”

And he makes sure you’re super colourful for the event

Lots of PDA, he loves it, it’s somewhere he can feel entirely comfortable in doing so

L o t s   o f   s e l f i e s

He’ll buy you heaps of merchandise

Kuroo

Kuroo goes to pride every time it’s on, he loves going

He makes all his merchandise or when he’s there he buys off small stands

He doesn’t care for any big name stuff, he always avoids big companies when he gets his merchandise

He doesn’t drink a lot but he has a drink or two at pride

He takes on a Big Brother role for younger people, especially if undesirables arrive at pride

Puns all the time

You’ll be finding glitter in your things for the next century, he loves his glitter

Lots of PDA and cuddling, he doesn’t let your hand go

Overall it’s a lot of fun, Pride hasn’t even ended and he’s inviting you to the next one

[grimoire-of-geekery]

Divination Haul: May 2019

Hey all!  It’s been a while since I’ve posted one of these, and I just... I had to share, the hilarity involved... XD 

Anyway!  So, this month, I finally got my copy of the TrueBlack Tarot, and I also got a copy of the Nix Hydra Arcana deck.  I also got a deck of Nintendo’s Super Mario Hanafuda, and I located my little fox necklace which I had lost for so long.

(pictured here is the entire haul, and also my two fox necklaces for size comparison)

We’ll start with the Arcana deck.

First thoughts when I received the deck: OH MY WOW.  You can’t tell from this pic, but it’s gilded not only on the edges, but also on the faces and backs.  

You know what?  One sec.

Here!  Now you can see a little more easily, I think.  And to be clear: this gilding is SERIOUSLY HIGH QUALITY.  I hate bad quality gilding, and these cards are BRILLIANTLY made.  The cards also glide and slip easily, and the art is amazing (it’s all animal themed and very abstract, exactly my jam), so HELLS YES on this deck.

I had to say this first, because I love these cards, and I don’t want criticism to be the first thing I say about them.  That being said, getting the deck was a huge pain!  Something must have gone wrong with the post office, because the tracking number said it came all the way here to Reno... and then got shipped off to Alabama!  Took an extra five days to get it!  I feel so bad for Nix Hydra, cuz I know this wasn’t their doing at all, and I hope this didn’t happen to other buyers.

Also, when I got it, it was in a basic packing box (which was beat to hell), filled with shredded packing paper (like the kind from Easter baskets?) and it came with an extra print of the title screen of the game (which was slightly dented).  Thanks, USPS.  :/  At least the cards were in perfect condition, even the tuck box was a-ok!

Then we have the TrueBlack Tarot.  Oh my gods... you guys, backing this deck was one of the best decisions I ever made...

First thoughts- HOLY SHIT THE PICS DON’T DO IT JUSTICE.

The artwork is absolutely GORGEOUS.  Hands down.  I’ve got the Moon card and the Nine of Cups (which has a cute contented white fox on it) shown here with the instruction book, which is very reminiscent of the books James R. Eads releases with his Prisma Visions deck.  The box is like a little treasure chest, and I’m in love.

TOUCHING the cards is a wonderful experience too.  They do not glide in the slightest, but their cardstock is like... touching rose petals.  They’re so solid, so thick, but they’re so soft and so lovely.

Literally I have no complaints.  Some of my friends (with smaller hands than mine) have to shuffle only parts of the deck at a time, but I don’t have much of a problem at all (I have huge hands).

Take a look at these cards!

SO CUTE!

And the Moon card is easily one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.

THOSE ARE HER FINGERS AAAAAGH SO FREAKING NEAT!  And you can’t see it really well, but there’s this dark embossed ink with extra art embedded into the Majors and all of the backs of the cards.

Ok, so finally, we have Nintendo’s Super Mario Hanafuda.  Now, a lot of people don’t know that Nintendo (yes, THAT Nintendo) started out making hanafuda before expanding to other kinds of games (and eventually video games).  I could have gone for like, a more traditional deck, but hey now... it’s Nintendo.  I had to get me a Mario deck.

Hee hee, they even did Mario up in a Napoleon outfit (the Napoleon picture is in homage to the most popular of their hanafuda decks, the Daitouryou pack.

(pictured here is my ginormous hand, to show you how friggin’ small these cards are!)

Now, I have to have to HAVE TO show you how ridiculously serious Nintendo has been about their packaging for these cards.

This is the rigamarole I had to go through to open the damn outer covering to get to the actual box:

Then there was the inner plastic box...

Finally I had the actual box in my hands.  Thankfully there was a little tabby to open on the side, because I’m not going to break the Nintendo seal on the other side (like a monster).

And finally...

They’re VERY well-made, and I can’t even tell you how satisfying it was to slide them all over my reading cloth (you can’t shuffle them really, they’re awfully small, and they don’t bend at all, they’re really more like paper tiles than playing cards).  I made a good choice getting the Mario set too, because the cards all have familiar characters which will help me figure out what the cards themselves mean.

But I swear, opening that damn thing was like that scene in Death Becomes Her, where Countess von Rhuman first reveals the Potion.

It was... just so very extra.  BUT ALSO COOL.

Anyway, I had to share with you folks!  It was hilarious, and you needed to see!

[theonceoverthinker]

A Pirate’s Strife For Me

Summary: Killian’s had a rough day -- his beloved died in his arms and her killer made off without a scratch on him. And for that, Killian vowed a quest for vengeance that would not be held back by either magic or time. But as the day comes to a close and Killian spends his first night off the shores of Neverland, one other source of torment plagued by his crocodile still has to be painfully accounted for. (Deleted scene that takes place after the last flashback in “The Crocodile”)

AO3    Fanfiction.net

Words: 1.75K

TW: WHUMP, Fairly graphic depictions of blood, lots of pain, gore (I think), gets a little anti-Rumple because of canon

A/N: So apparently I can write whump just like the cool kids when the mood strikes me! And when @killian-whump is having a bad day, that’s exactly what happens! It is my sworn duty to make you feel better, even if I have to torture Killian to do it (And to be fair, I did already kill the guy! Gotta up the ante, am I right? XD )This is my first straight-up whump fic and I hope that it can cheer you up as I put our little pirate through all sorts of hell! MWAHAHAHAH!!!!!!

Thank you to @fraddit for looking this over for me! You’re just the best!

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

The only thing Killian Jones knew to be more powerful than magic was adrenaline.

A little over a decade ago, it gave him the courage to plant the seeds of rebellion in his men from depths of grief that were as deep and briny as the sea itself.

Not long afterwards, it afforded him the composure necessary to bed his Milah for the first time.

And just a few hours ago, it bequeathed to Killian the ferocity to fight through the pain of losing his hand and captain his crew to a dangerous realm.

But the best evidence of how strong adrenaline could be was how awful he felt when it wore off.

Right now was a perfect example.

The moon hung high in the sky over Neverland. Even out at sea, Killian was given one hell of a reminder of the heat of the jungle. Even with the bit of coolness that the ocean provided, the ungodly high temperatures proved to be stronger through the clothes that clung to his skin like a bug to a rotten corpse and the humidity that threatened to suffocate him in a method that rivaled the very suffocation he endured today.

However, that all paled in comparison to the pain that plagued him from one central location.

If Killian’s clothes clung to his skin, the bandages that surrounded his hand -- adhered to his skin by the seemingly ceaseless blood that still spilled out of his person -- practically melded into it.

Killian bit his lips in an attempt to silence himself. After today’s show of confidence and resilience, he wouldn’t dare give his crew a reason to think he was weak -- not after bringing them to a new realm. The impact of such a move probably left hs crew panicked enough as it was, though he knew they’d never admit it. Still, he wouldn’t add to it.

So instead, he simply bit his lip and through the small gaps in between his teeth, breathed.

And needless to say, he suffered for it.

Teases of remnants of his dinner poked around his parched throat. The muffled rocking of The Jolly Roger through the walls of the captain’s quarters made him further ache of a burning desire for water, but his self-inflicted isolation let him do naught but want for it. While the mocking of his own vessel tempted him to relieve himself with his supply of rum, he just barely talked himself out of it. After all, on an island run by children, there was a chance that the luxury of alcohol would be in short supply in Neverland.

Not to mention, that very alcohol was currently acting as his sole source of disinfectant for the gaping wound that could do nothing but rest atop his pillow.

A glance at the bottle that stood parallel to him on his table reminded him that it was time to use it once more in the manner that he has been forced to accustom himself to. The distance between his bed and the edge of the table where his bottle stood, while only mere feet, more closely resembled a Herculean task of willpower in the face of his pain. It almost made him not want to do it, but his first mate Lewis had earlier described the effects of neglecting the task in graphic detail as he lathered Killian’s wound with his crew’s common rum the last time -- how the infection would climb its way up his arm until it could do little more than rest by his side and then from there, poison his heart and lungs. And that was on top of the grueling fever that was sure to happen.

Needless to say, such an infection could only end in one way: his death.

If there was one thing Killian wasn’t ready to handle, it was his own death -- not if Rumplestiltskin still breathed while his beloved Milah did not.

And so Killian readied himself for the peril he would now confront.

He whined as he shifted his arm on the pillow so that he could stand up. While by no means a complete relief for the agony his crocodile had bestowed upon him, the pillow did provide a means of elevation and a modest cushion for the injury. Without its presence, blood quickly flowed to the bottom of his arm. In moments, his arm was swelling, pushing back against the restraints of his bandages.

When biting his lip was starting to dwindle in its effectiveness, Killian began to notice how his breathing was now time with the pulses from his hand-deprived forearm’s swelling. He counted the pulses as he took one lethargic step after another as to keep his balance -- a frustrating side effect of his lost limb. While the exercise was enough to help get him from his bed to the table successfully, Killian still fell into his chair when he finally reached it.

Once he sorted himself out in his chair, Killian grabbed the bottle of rum. As the temptation of a drink reared its ugly head again, Killian licked his lips. The amber liquid was to his dry mouth as was an oasis to a desert. A dry swallow that soon followed left him unable to choke back an ugly sob. Killian forced himself into silence as he listened for potential eavesdroppers and he took a parched sigh of relief upon not hearing any.

With his conspicuousness still unsullied, Killian once more pulled away from the bottle.

Then he turned his attention to his bandages.

Never had flat sheets looked so intimidating.

Killian curled his toes in anticipation as his hand gingerly went to peel off the bandage.

The pain was immediate. The bandages kept a stubborn hold onto his body, making every tug linger in the sting it left his skin with. He could feel the lower levels of his bandages latch onto his skin and he knew that by the end of this, even more of his skin would be left raw as a result of the change.

All at the same time, Killian’s stomach threatened to abort its contents from his body, his lungs lunged for a chance to release a blood curdling scream, and his mind fogged up in an attempt to go dark. Killian’s lip was now too sore to continue biting, so he instead pulled his teeth back and onto his tongue.

For the rest of his remaining days, Killian had no idea how he managed to keep himself conscious through the entire process of bandaging his hand, but he did and as a truth known only to himself, it served as one of his greatest accomplishments.

As he continued to pull the bandages off of his limbs, Killian felt his eyes bulge in and out in a mixture of panic and focus. While his efforts started out slow, he soon realized that he couldn’t bear the agony that came with elongating the undertaking. After a moment of readying himself, Killian made two tight pulls against his bandage and finally, that was that. Just as he imagined, another half inch of his arm now had fresh blood running down it and flesh exposed.

By this point, Killian felt his tongue nearly at the point of splitting open, but continued, stubbornly telling himself that it wouldn’t be much longer.

Killian lowered his hand onto the table as he finally opened up the rum, grateful that his bottle had a cork loose enough to be opened with one hand. After mentally going over Lewis’ instructions over how to do this, he lifted his stump into the air and started to drizzle the rum over it.

Two seconds was all it took to enfeeble him. Stub, arm, and bottle alike dropped to the table with a graceless thud. Killian listened once more for sounds of leering crew mates. Once more, he had been lucky.

Killian looked at the scene in front of him. He couldn’t do this -- not alone, but not with his crew members either.

So, just as he did so many times before, he turned to his closest companion -- his trusty bottle of booze. Grunting in a certain level of defeat, he took a generous swig of the tall bottle’s contents. He knew there would be consequences for his weakness, but he’d cross that bridge if he came to it. As it stood, all Killian wanted to do now was finish this cursed endeavor with his life and his dignity intact.

It didn’t take much longer for Killian to finish covering his stub in rum. Once he was done, he looked beyond the bottle that had offered him a moment’s peace to see a small bundle of bandages. He presumed that Lewis had prepared those for him and reminded himself to reward his first mate for his thorough work in the morning.

Applying the new layer of bandages didn’t hurt as much as taking off the old layer had. That’s not to say it wasn’t painful -- he wouldn’t fib in such a way after all that he’d endured tonight -- but there was a vast difference between the two ventures in terms of the pain they wrought. Now, instead of approaching the edge of his consciousness, he was merely pushed harshly in its direction.

With the bandages now secured onto the edge of his arm, Killian made his way back to his bed. Just like he did with his journey to the table, he reached his mattress successfully, but plopped onto it with the all of the elegance of a cod hoisted onto his deck.

Killian shifted his body as to prepare for sleep. At last, he could not only feel his body start to succumb to his urge to rest -- a helpful side effect of both his dalliance with booze and the agonizing pain that persisted to remain close by -- but actually allow himself to give in. As he permanently settled himself for the night, Killian took a final look at his table.

Standing behind the sullied bandages and half-empty bottle of booze stood another ally to his cause, one he made on this day -- his hook.

A slowly dimming light that came off the lantern on the other end of his quarters reflected upon the point at the end of its seductive curve and the dance of shadows alongside the surface resembled the demon that was now its job to defeat.

The last lucid thought Killian had before drifting off was that this was the weapon that would bring an end to Rumplestiltskin, and on the glorious day came where his revenge could finally unfold, Killian swore that he’d return the pain inflicted on him by his crocodile today tenfold.

[kaaras-adaar-a]

💖👜🍑

THE BORDERLINE INTRUSIVE HORNY OC ASKS

💖 Do they consider themselves attractive?

Ohhh lord no! Not at all! Kaaras had grown up feeling like he is nothing but ugly because he’s not human, and he absolutely came to believe it. It’s very sad actually, because Kaaras is very handsome (or at least I think lol), but he doesn’t think he’s attractive at all >: He feels that everything about him stands out and it seen as different--and not in a good way. He thinks his horns make him look like a monster, his grey skin is displeasing, and all of his features are something that make him a hideous beast. He really doesn’t find himself attractive. :( And it’s entirely because of the racism he grew up around. 

👜 What type of clothing is especially attractive to them?

Kaaras is deeefinitely the kind of guy who likes someone who dresses neatly and professionally. But he DEFINITELY likes military style and uniform ;) He also likes armour. Woof, if he sees someone all decked out in armour, he’s going to swoon, lol. 

And ofc... he is fond of lingerie ;) Really, tho, he’s going to find the person he’s attracted to hot wearing anything (or nothing lol). They could be covered in mud and wearing a potato sack and he’d still think they were the hottest thing on earth hahaha. But yes, he does have a preference for uniform ;) 

🍑 Which companion has the best butt?

That’s not fair, Kaaras is a TOTAL arse man and he will enjoy every arse out there. Altho he definitely likes some chonk there XD But everyone has a good arse, there’s no choosing a best butt because ALL butts are valid and wonderful! 

[littlewritingcorner]

Rough Seas

Miraculous Ladybug Warnings: Vomit, emeto Pairing: Adrien x Marinette x Luka friendship

Summary: Marinette finds herself trapped with her two crushes on a boat in the throws of food poisoning, but the boys are there to take care of her. Even if she would rather die of embarrassment.

- FINALLY finished this request after months of playing around with it. Hopefully it satisfies for the amount of time it took. xD -

“Oh… please settle down. Please,” Marinette moaned under her breath as the ginger ale from her sorry attempt at quelling the churning in her gut bubbled and sizzled away like acid. Juleka’s houseboat swayed gently beneath her feet and sent her stomach swirling ten-fold right along with it. All she could do was lean against the railing, arms wrapped around her middle, and hope that she could control her stomach long enough to plan a getaway before disaster could strike.

All of their friends were having the night of their lives dancing to Nino’s DJing skills and Marinette had planned to be right alongside them. Adrien had even been allowed to come and secretly she’d hoped that somehow she might be able to get a dance in for the night. She hadn’t planned on her chicken salad coming back to challenge her shortly after the music had started. Only two hours in and she’d had to slip away from the crowd on the front deck to hide in the darkness cast from the cabin at the back of the boat where no one could see her.

Her tainted lunch did a backflip on the next wave, followed by a paralyzing cramp in the center of her stomach and she couldn’t help the whimper as she tightened her arms around her waist and slid down the railing wall. She tucked herself into as tight of a protective ball as she could in hopes of easing the cramp, but even once that faded the added nausea it’d brought on stayed. She could feel it clinging to the back of her throat like rotted syrup and no amount of swallowing was getting rid of it.

“Marinette? What are you doing over here?”

She didn’t need to look up to know who that voice belonged to, but the arrival made her flinch back quickly which she instantly regretted as her stomach jostled and her throat tightened. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, using all of her will power to try and force her stomach to stay down.

“Are you alright? You’re pale as a ghost,” he asked quietly, concern shinning bright behind emerald eyes. Marinette might have seen it if she hadn’t been more concerned with pulling herself up as quickly as her trembling legs would let her. Another sway rocked her back to the railing edge and she gripped the bar as she leaned over. An audible gurgling hiss echoed over the sounds of the lapping waves from her stomach as the muscle constricted harshly, forcing her to gag over the water uselessly. Was she really going to throw up right when Adrien was there to see? Could it be any more humiliating?!

“Whoa!” Adrien gasped at the sudden movement and stood up to brace an arm behind the poor girls shoulders in an attempt to help her stay upright.

“Are you seasick? Try to take a breath. You’ll be alright,” he coached surprisingly calmly while all Marinette could do was shake her head and try not to watch the waves rocking up against the haul. The backflips from earlier were quickly turning into a full olympic gymnasts set of rolls and twirls and the most she could do was clutch the railing in a death grip and lean over further as she fought off another gag. She barely managed to swallow the sudden rush of hot bile splashing the back of her throat and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, all while Adrien rubbed her back and cooed empty little encouragements at her that it would be ok.

“Is Marinette ok?” Luka asked as he peaked around the cabin and caught the quickly devolving scene in front of him. He hurried over and Marinette whimpered again at the voice. Luka too!? Did everyone she found cute have to come and watch her throw up over the side of a boat?

“I think she might be seasick,” Adrien offered, but raised an eyebrow when Marinette shook her head again. She swallowed heavily and dared open her mouth.

“L-lunch…” she managed to mumble before another gag sent the tainted meal surging back up her throat, the lingering sludge bringing on a second heave to finally send the contents of her stomach down to the water below. Her stomach cramped and seized as the muscle decided that was the perfect time to lose it. She barely had the time to cough and pull some much needed air back into her lungs before her stomach sloshed angrily again and brought on another wave of half digested chicken salad and a stream of tears.

“It’s ok. You’re going to be fine. Don’t fight it or you’ll only feel worse,” Luka soothed, his mellow voice not doing as much as usual to calm Marinette down. Adrien’s hand was still stroking up her spine in long, slow strokes, no doubt feeling every time her body seized up in preparation for another potential expulsion.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry. I’m so - ugh - s-sorry,” she panted in the few minutes reprieve she was finally given, tear tracks still fresh down her cheeks and too embarrassed to lift her head up. Adrien pulled a tissue from his pocket to hand over once it seemed like the pause was finally going to last more than a few breaths.

“Maybe you should lay down for a bit,” Adrien suggested as Luka stood on Marinette’s opposite side to loop an arm behind her waist.

“Do you think you can make it downstairs?” Luka asked.

Another cramp brought her to her knees before she could answer the question and she moaned, gripping the angry organ and sinking down against the railing helplessly. Her body was still trying to find anything left to bring up and wasn’t satisfied at what it found. Once the pain finally eased again she nodded and let the boys help her down the stairs and away from the pounding music. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected but it wasn’t being lead to Luka’s bed.

“No… no I don’t want to get sick on your bed,” she protested weakly but the floating feeling in her limbs didn’t give her much of a chance at pushing back as they sat her down, so she curled up over her knees instead with a pathetic whine. “This is so embarrassing. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she sniffled.

“No more of that, Mari. You can’t help food poisoning. Now try to get some rest and let us take care of you,” Luka said, his smile impossibly kind before moving to the other side of the room to bring over the trash can while Adrien sat next to her.

“Yeah. We’ll take care of you, so don’t worry about a thing. You don’t need to feel embarrassed, so please stop crying,” he spoke softly and brushed away a tear. For someone who’d had so little contact with other people his bedside manner took even Marinette by surprise. She wasn’t graced with the time to ponder that thought anymore as her stomach lurched again, angry at being held at bay and she quickly pulled the trash bin to her chest and buried her face in it, sick splashing at the plastic lining disgustingly. The echoing gags and choking as her body struggled to bring up more vile sludge only made her feel worse. It sounded a million times louder to her than it probably was, but Adrien and Luka were both there to hear it.

This had to be the worst night of her entire life.

Luka moved the bin away once the moment of nausea had passed and offered her two tablets that she managed to choke down with a mouthful of water. She didn’t have the energy to protest being pressed to lay down on the bed. Her stomach was still hanging in her throat but her head was spinning as much as the boat was rocking and she was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

When she woke up the room was dimly lit by a table lamp and there was something cool and wet draped over her forehead. A foggy haze drifted through her mind as she tried to process the quiet voices somewhere close, not sure where she was. Her limbs felt tied down to the bed but a sudden spike of nausea blew the fog away enough to tell her she needed to get up. That was about all it did as the most she could manage was sluggishly rolling over and heaving blindly over the side of the bed. She had no time to react as she slowly realized she was throwing up on Luka’s floor and probably all over his bed and the tears were back, along with a gentle pair of hands roaming over her shoulders.

“Easy. Easy. You’re alright,” Luka spoke next to her ear, far to calmly for someone who had someone currently vomiting on their floor. When the heaving finally stopped she realized not only had the small bin from earlier been replaced by a much larger bucket directly in the line of fire, but there were a handful of towels spread out underneath it. A smart choice, as even the large target hadn’t managed to save the whole area. She was too tired to dissolve into any more tears at the mess and accepted the water Adrien offered her before collapsing back against the pillows with a groan.

“I’ll clean that…” she mumbled, scrubbing at her face with one hand and wishing the bloated, cramping, nauseated feeling would lessen up for even a moment. The boys chuckled lightly at the delirious murmurings. Luka put the damp cloth back over Marinette’s forehead and she looked up at them with hazy blue eyes. “What time is it?” she finally managed to ask the older boy hovering over her.

“Nearly 11. You were out for a good few hours. You really needed the rest.”

“It’s that late?” she frowned and sat up slowly, her head spinning again at the motion and she closed her eyes, groaning. “Oh no. I made you miss the whole party. I’m sorry. And you’re dad finally let you come out, too,” she sniffled sadly.

“There’ll be other parties, Marinette. Are you feeling any better?”

“No. I’m really not,” she frowned and pulled her knees up to her chest, swallowing down the hollow, sick feeling still lingering. There was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to be curled up in the privacy of her own bathroom, suffering in solitude.

“Luka’s mom offered to let you spend the night, but if you want to go home, my driver and I can take you. He’s waiting outside whenever you’re ready.” he offered as Luka started cleaning the towels on the floor away now that Marinette was awake. She watched him clean up and sighed, holding her stomach.

“I want to go home,” she moaned pathetically. “I’m sorry I ruined everything, but thank you for taking care of me like this. I’m so sorry,” she apologized again. She was never going to be able to apologize enough. Luka just sighed and sat next to her, squeezing her knee.

“When you’re feeling better, we’re going to work on this compulsion for you to apologize for things out of your control,” he smiled and for the first time since the whole ordeal had started Marinette smiled back weakly.

“…Sorry,” she quipped back.

Soon after she was slowly ushered off the houseboat, emergency trash bag in hand, and shuffled against Adrien’s side in the backseat of his car. The shared body heat of his arm draped around her shoulders was so good at easing the chills running along her spine that she couldn’t pretend to not want to snuggle closer. She would have fallen asleep if the gentle curves of the Parisian roads weren’t doing their best to set her stomach off again.

Adrien’s driver cast a worried glance in the rear-view mirror as she groaned and curled up tighter against Adrien, the color quickly draining from her face. She dared a glance outside the window to judge if she should ask the man to pull over or not, grateful that she didn’t live far and that they were already pulling up to the bakery. She was pretty sure Adrien and his driver felt a similar surge of relief as the blonde helped her out and they made the painfully slow trek up the flights of stairs to her apartment.

It was midnight and the hallways were barely lit by the wall sconces. Marinette could hardly see straight as she dug through her purse, only finding her house keys with Tiki’s quiet help. Her stomach was swirling and that sickly rotten syrup coating was clinging to the back of her throat again. Her hand tightened around the trash bag, not sure if she could will her body to hold on long enough to get the door unlocked. Adrien took pity on her and swiftly took the keys from her hands to let them in. He excused the lack of thanks as Marinette hurried through the door lightening fast and threw herself into the bathroom in just enough time to heave up a fresh surge of stomach acid.

She was still hovering over the bowl, strings of sticky bile and saliva hanging from her lips when Adrien came in to join her. He flicked on the light forgotten light switch before kneeling next to her and resting his hand on her back as the other reached to brush her bangs from her forehead. Her body tightened again and Adrien’s hand was the only thing keeping her from leaning into the water as a weaker stream of bile dribbled past her lips.

It was like someone was try to wring her body of every last speck of food that could possibly be left behind. She spat into the dirty water, doing her best not to look at it as she panted over the surface, too afraid to pull away as her stomach quivered. Harsh chills shuddered along her body were forcing the already strained muscles of her abdomen dangerously taught. There couldn’t possibly be anything left but somehow her body managed to keep finding something to bring up.

A handful of dry gags later and Adrien let his hand slip from her bangs, though the other never stopped rubbing her back.

“I think that might be it,” he said softly, wincing as Marinette’s body challenged him by finding one last dribble of bile to add to the bowl. She moaned pathetically and reached up tiredly for the lever on the tank to flush the shame away.

“Tell that to my stomach,” she rasped and wiped her mouth with a tissue before pulling back enough to rest her forehead against the rim of the toilet. The acid burned her throat as she tried to catch her breath and force the shaking to stop. She was so tired, and the aching in her stomach had only dulled slightly, replaced by the tired strain of an overworked muscle. It felt like she’d just done 100 sit-ups.

She wasn’t sure what time it was anymore or how much longer she’d be stuck on the floor, worshiping her new god. Another cramp brought on a tired whimper and she only just caught the glass of water from the corner of her eye. She had no idea when Adrien had moved away to fill up the bathroom glass but the sight of it made her stomach lurch nervously all the same.

“N-no. I can’t, Adrien. I can’t,” she swallowed and closed her eyes as she tilted her head down as if that would help. “I just want this t-to st-stop,” she shivered and curled tighter into herself.

“You’re getting dehydrated, you really need to drink something. Besides, it might feel better to have something in your stomach to… well… lose,” he said, wincing at the shudder the thought brought to Marinette as she shook her head again. He sighed and gently rubbed at her lower back.

“Please? Just a sip? Get the taste out of your mouth at least.”

Marinette lifted tired eyes up to Adrien and the innocent glass of water, the pleading and concerned eyes meeting her exhausted gaze guilted her enough to slowly sit up and reach for the glass. Her shivering was so violent she couldn’t hold onto the glass though and Adrien pulled it away, gently batting at her hand.

“Let me help,” he said tenderly and Marinette blushed despite herself as he pressed the rim of the glass against her parted lips. She managed a few swallows before pushing it away and shaking her head.

“That’s enough,” she groaned as the water settled like ice in the pit of her stomach and gurgled away unhappily. She could almost image her insides folding in on themselves over the beverage, eager to have something more to toss around, but it had helped the stinging in her throat at least. Adrien didn’t argue and promptly put the glass aside.

“Can I help you somewhere more comfortable? What about your bedroom?”

“No…right here is good,” she whined and curled up closer to the bowl for emphasis. She held her breath against a hiccough and rested her hand against the slowly churning mass of her middle, praying that the worst was over. The room was spinning again and she closed her eyes against it for just a minute, but when she opened them Adrien had somehow shuffled his way to her bedroom for her blanket and gathered armfuls of pillows to lay on the floor.

Owlishly bright eyes watched Adrien concoct a little nest of pillows before he wrapped the blanket around Marinette’s shivering frame. A light tug on her arm was all she needed to be coaxed into joining Adrien in his pile of pillows and curl back against his chest. The body heat was pure bliss and slowly eased up the trembling from her chills so the strain wasn’t as bad on her stomach.

“If we’re staying here then I can at least try to make you comfortable,” he smiled and brushed the fallen strands of dark blue hair from the girls eyes to tuck them behind her ears. “Now try to get some rest, Marinette.”

“Thank you, Adrien,” she blushed and curled up closer, letting her eyes drift shut in the moment of relaxation and dozed again, the nausea dulling. She might have thought the moment was romantic as Adrien stroked her arm and held her as she slept. But of course, Marinette’s luck would never be that good.

Any fuzzy warmth from the moment was ripped away by the cycle of jolting awake, heaving some magically renewed amount of stomach acid and water into the toilet not an hour later, (and every hour on the hour after that), well until dawn. Even Adrien’s well meaning patience had dipped after the 4th wake up call, and the exhaustion in his voice as he stroked her hair back and pressed glasses of water to her between bouts of vomiting matched Marinette’s own frazzled emotions. By dawn she was ready to end it all and welcome the sweet peace of death, because clearly this was how she was going to die.  

Sabine and Tom weren’t entirely sure what to think when they walked in a few hours after sunrise to find their daughter asleep in front of the toilet, half curled into her blanket and the blonde model sprawled on a bed of pillows against the bathroom wall. They quietly closed the door, deciding to wait for the pair to wake up on their own to tell them about the harrowing trials of the chicken salads revenge.

It was a long while before Marinette or Adrien went anywhere near another piece of chicken again.

[spiritualpuzzleshipper]

Always Sorry, Always Here

Me and @hikarichino at it again with head canons and post canon Atemu staying, puzzleshipping angst and feels! She started it this time! I only made it possible XD Slight heavy lime, leaning to soft lemon, but I wouldn’t say it’s Not NSFW but for sure has a couple words that make you wonder what line it’s on lol.

 Atemu was in the kitchen, listening to his coffee pour into his cup. He was working on his tie in the small mirror that was in the hallway. "There." He smiled, proud that he got it done without Yugi's help. Speaking of Yugi, he heard footsteps up stairs and the sound of the shower starting. Yugi was up and that brought a smile to Atemu's face, as he walked back into the kitchen. He reached for his cup and blew on the warm steam that had been prepped for him. As he took some sips, he looked at his watch. "Crap!" He saw the time and realized he was late. "Kaiba's gonna kill me!" He reached for his duel disk that was on the table and began to head back out of the kitchen. "Love you Aibou!" He called out before he closed the door.

"Love you too, Mou Hitori no Boku!" Yugi called out before getting into the shower. "Late, as usual."

 Another hologram disappeared and Atemu's life points reached zero. "Dammit Pharaoh!" Kaiba hissed. "You can't keep losing against a machine." His voice echoed through the big room that Atemu stood in.

Atemu sighed, taking his duel disk off, that was the tenth duel he lost, this pattern was aggravating him as much as it did his boss. "I don't know what's going on." He mumbled into the headset that was around his head.

Kaiba sighed heavily and turned off the headset. Next thing Atemu saw, he was walking through the door to his right. "Bad day?"

Looking at his hands, he sighed. "I guess." He looked at Kaiba and placed his hand on his heart. "I just feel like something isn't right today."

Kaiba huffed and looked at his watch. "Take an early day, go home to Yugi, maybe you two can figure it out." He turned his back and walked back to the door. "But you will make up the lost hours this weekend."

Atemu went to speak up but Kaiba had already left. He sighed and nodded. "Yes, sir." He knew better then to speak out against Kaiba, after all if he did, he could lose his job. It was the only job that kept the game shop going and he couldn't let that go, not since grandpa's death. He picked up his duel disk and growled, clenching it tightly. "Why am I so angry?" He asked himself, but not able to answer the question.

"Pharaoh, leave now!" Atemu heard Kaiba over the intercom.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm going." He walked out of the doors that Kaiba went through moments ago and headed to his desk. When he got there he picked up his wallet, his deck belt, placing the cards in the belt, and threw his trash away from lunch. Once he knew he had his keys, he left work, feeling completed defeated.

 When he arrived home, he noticed the game shop was closed. "That's odd." He tilted his head and went inside. "Aibou." He called out as he took his shoes off, deciding against wearing his slippers.

"You're home?" Yugi appeared from the living room. Atemu just nodded and smiled when he saw Yugi. "Why?"

"I had a bad day, couldn't beat the program Kaiba designed." He wrapped his arms around Yugi and inhaled his scent.

Yugi returned the embrace. "I bet that pissed him off." He smiled thinking of how Kaiba looked when he sent him home.

Atemu nodded and opened his eyes slightly. "Why did you close the shop?"

"No customers for four hours, no point of wasting my time. I decided to work on my game instead." Yugi pulled away and noticed that Atemu wasn't looking. "Everything okay?"

Dropping his arms from Yugi, they fell to Atemu's side, he slowly walked over to the calendar. "No." He whispered, but Yugi heard him, he knew those lips, could read them very well. "Today."

Yugi placed his hand on Atemu's shoulder. "What about today?" He asked, concern filled his voice, but Atemu didn't answer him. "You're scaring me, Atemu." Yugi used Atemu's name, he never did that. Atemu still didn't answer him. "Seriously, you're scaring,"

Atemu turned around and captured Yugi's lips with his, stopping his sentence. It was full of need, desire, lust, and he needed to stop everything that was filling his mind. He needed Yugi, now, tomorrow, and every day after!

Yugi resisted at first but eventually closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Atemu's neck. He pulled away for a moment. "You okay?" He looked into Atemu's eyes, searching for the answer, only to be given the walls. "Please, don't do that. You know after all these years, that look doesn't belong between us."

"I'm sorry Aibou." Atemu whispered before giving Yugi another small but demanding kiss. He took a step forward, guiding Yugi towards the stairs, leading him to their bedroom. He kept saying sorry, over and over again, but refused to let Yugi speak. He laid him down on his back and smiled. "Yugi." His voice cracked slightly. "I love you."

Yugi looked over up at him and smiled. "I love you too." He reached up to the tie that was still around Atemu's neck and loosened it.

"Thank you." Atemu kissed Yugi lightly on the lips before undoing the buttons of Yugi's shirt. Slowly he slid his hands over the skin that was exposed, causing gasps from Yugi. Those gasps and moans, brought tightness in his pants. He needed this, needed Yugi, needed to show him. It'd had been ten years today and he refused to allow those memories to take control.

"Thank you for what?"

Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at Yugi, who was still on his back, underneath him. "Oh." He cleared his throat. "Thank you for loving me, for being there for me."

Yugi smiled. "Thank you for coming back, for wanting to be with me."

"Know this Yugi Muto. My love for you will never die, never fault, and never end." With those last words, Atemu pulled Yugi into a deep passionate kiss, his hand removed the remaining clothing on them and soon they laid naked and exposed in bed. They had done this many times in the last five years since his return and nothing new was to come from it. It was nothing more then Atemu reminding, telling, showing, Yugi. That his love was real, that he was real, and that he would never betray him...again.

  Atemu and Yugi made love, in the early afternoon, on what appeared to be a random day. Nothing to Yugi's knowledge should have triggered this, though to Atemu, he knew the exact reason. Behind the entire feelings he had at work, to the duels he lost, it all was making sense. That is why he was doing this, making love to his partner, his best friend, his lover, his everything. Moans and gasps for air, both pleasure and lust, came from them both. The only words spoken were names, the only thing they did was hold onto each other until they both reached their climax and soon after they laid in bed, wrapped in each other's arms. Yugi rested slightly against the headboard, Atemu laying on his chest, wrapping his arms around Yugi's chest. Their legs intertwined together and Yugi played with Atemu's hair, listening to the sobs that started to form. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Holding Yugi closer to him, he allowed the tears to fall. "I'm sorry, Aibou." Atemu spoke. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" Yugi asked, he was once again worried. This wasn't unlike him, to cry after sex, but this time he was crying out of sadness and pain. "You need to tell me."

Atemu began to speak. "When we were one."

"We always have been one." Yugi reminded him but Atemu shook his head.

"No, when we used to share a body. We went to America, remember?" Atemu fought the tears, speaking slowly, but clearly. When he felt Yugi shift slightly, he continued. "Today was the day, ten years ago, I was a fool! I didn't trust you nor myself and in the end, I lost you." He pulled Yugi closer, tighter, he needed to make sure he wasn't going to disappear...again.

Yugi thought for a moment and then remembered. Atemu was speaking of the Orichalcos, of the day he played it, and the day Yugi gave his soul up in exchange. "Oh Mou Hitori no Boku." Yugi whispered, his eyes half closed. "I'll never leave you."

"I can't live without you by my side." Atemu felt more tears fall down his face, but he didn't care, he just needed to let it out. "You say you won't leave, but yet you have."

"You've left me but came back, just as I did."

"How many times can we separate, before we can't return?" Atemu asked.

Yugi pondered for a moment, looking for an answer. Atemu made a good point, they had already broken destiny twice. First they fell in love, not planned, second Atemu returned, again not planned. They most certainly made enemies with destiny and who knows what tomorrow held, for all he knew one of them could get hit by a bus or Atemu could be electrocuted by something at Kaiba Corp. Or, "No, I refuse to believe that." Yugi finally spoke. "Atemu, we aren't guaranteed tomorrow as it is. Why worry?"

Atemu felt more tears form, he too thought of all the possibilities of fate and destiny separating them. He cried as he clung to Yugi, as tight as he could. "Please don't leave me." He pleaded.

"I won't leave, I promise."

"Promise?"

Yugi nodded, rubbing his fingers up and down Atemu's arm. "I promise."

"I'm so sorry." Atemu sobbed, burying his face into Yugi's bare chest.

Feeling the tears on his skin, Yugi buried his head into Atemu's. "I will never leave you, I promise you, Pharaoh." He spoke the last words with kindness and love.

Atemu just laid there, allowing himself to cry, he hated to break but he needed to. If he kept it in, Yugi and himself, would both regret it. No more secrets, it was their promise to each other when he returned and they spoke of their love. No more hiding and no more walls, that was the hardest one for Atemu. He was used to all the walls, to protect himself and others, but now he didn't need to. Now he could hug Yugi tight, cry into his chest, and allow all his feelings to flow. Yugi never once told him he was wrong or that he shouldn't cry, instead he gave him exactly what he needed. Comfort. Atemu got to rest in Yugi's arms, he allowed himself to doze in and out of consciousness, and eventually he fell asleep. But just before he fell into the darkness of sleep, he squeezed Yugi tightly, to make sure he did not leave him. He wouldn't be able to survive, if Yugi ever left. "I'm sorry...please...don't leave."

Yugi smiled when he saw that Atemu had fallen asleep, he was thankful that he allowed that to happen, but Yugi made sure he kept his promises, this one included. "I'll always be here."