Thanks for making tumblr an exciting minefield to navigate through while at work. "Oh, dapper, like that layer but scroll past for now... oh... oh that's a lot... okay... um... I mean it's good but not now.... oh someone posted a funny cat video... that was silly, now keep scrolling quickly."
i'm not sure this is an ironic thanks but imma say you're welcome 👌
you followed the circus (me) expect to see some clowns (huge furry breasticles)
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Pale Imitation
Hello everyone! Happy RenGiyuu Wednesday! This is way later in the day than I wanted to post this but uh let's roll with it and pretend I didn't forget about it. Enjoy, gays and theys
TW: Mentions of Death, Blood, Brief Mention of CPR.
A gasp tore through the warm layer of haze that settled in the humid house. The window was open, inviting the summer air in, producing trails of cold sweat to clung to Giyuu's skin.
He sat up quickly, throwing the blanket off a side to feel the cold carpet under his feet. He held his head in his hands, keeping his eyes open to chase away the haunting images of his nightmare.
Kyojuro's hand was still warm when it touched his face. It was warm when it fell and when Giyuu begged to God as a nonbeliever. Never in his life did he pray so much. Not when he lost Sabito, not when he lost himself.
Kyojuro's sweat was still warm. Kyojuro's blood was still warm when he packed his wound with gauze. Kyojuro's skin was still warm when he beat blood back into his heart. Thump, thump, thump; artificial heartbeats are pale imitations of a working heart.
Giyuu put his feet back on his futon. The cold wasn't as comforting as it should have been. He felt a tear fall on his wrist, and that's when he noticed he was crying.
Of course it was Kyojuro. It had to be his love that had to fight an Upper Moon. He was alone. If only Giyuu was a little faster. If only he was there when it happened--
"Giyuu?" a hand touched his leg and Giyuu flinched away. He looked over. A warm hand remained where it had grazed Giyuu's thigh.
Giyuu looked away, unable to look into those eyes. Kyojuro took his arm and pulled until he could hold Giyuu's hand. "Are you alright, dear?"
Giyuu couldn't talk. He knew that if he even attempted to open his mouth, the only noise he could make would be croaks of pain. He nodded.
Kyojuro shifted to sit up next to him. "You had a nightmare, didn't you? The same one?" Giyuu nodded. Kyojuro held Giyuu's rough hand in both of his. He brought his knuckles to his chapped lips to kiss them. He pressed Giyuu's palm against his chest, right next to his wound but directly over his heart.
Giyuu could feel Kyojuro's pulse under his fingers. It was strong, the strongest it's been since the accident... the accident...
He needed to stop describing it as an accident. It wasn't an accident.
His body relaxed at the physical reminder of Kyojuro's good health. His mind wasn't as fortunate. Kyojuro noticed. He tucked a hair behind Giyuu's ear and held his chin, guiding the man to look at his lover.
"I'm here," Kyojuro reassured, bringing his sleeve up to wipe Giyuu's tears away. His sleeve was soaked after cleaning his cheeks.
Giyuu looked down. His tears could be heard beating against his blanket.
Kyojuro tilted his head back up and brought him into a loose hug, "I'm here now, and I'm alive. That's what matters, isn't it?"
Yeah, Giyuu guessed that's what should matter to him. Kyojuro survived. He survived and he was alive now to kiss Giyuu's temple. Giyuu dropped his head against Kyojuro's shoulder.
Kyojuro knew how difficult it was for Giyuu to process his death and his... undeath. He was dead for two minutes. He lost a quarter of his guts and his whole eye. Giyuu expected him to be dead. He did die, but he was alive. He lived.
Kyojuro laid them down, resting Giyuu's head against his chest. Giyuu looked up at him, worried about his injury. Kyojuro didn't react to his worry, simply petting his hair and silently convincing him to lay his head down.
When he complied, he instantly knew why. Thump. Thump Thump. It was so loud in his ear and Giyuu could feel how hot Kyojuro's chest was with life. Since when was he shirtless? Giyuu couldn't answer. He felt like he was melting against his lover's embrace.
Everything of him and within him melted. He sighed physically, shakily to represent how much the daily nightmares affect him. Each night, Kyojuro comforted him without frustration or complaint.
Giyuu thought he had prayed for God to save just his boyfriend. He was foolish to think that God would kill one of his angels so easily.
Kyojuro pulled the thin blanket over them again and held Giyuu as he stirred. He didn't realize how close he was to falling asleep again. When did it become this easy?
"I'm not going anywhere, just getting comfy. Are you comfortable, dear?" Giyuu didn't bother to give him an answer as he wrapped an arm around Kyojuro's waist.
Kyojuro chuckled. Damn. The sound was beautiful and rich. It made Giyuu's heart synchronize with Kyojuro's, pounding hard and strong against his chest. He loved his laugh. Giyuu mentioned that Kyojuro had slept through their one-month anniversary and pretended to be upset about it. Kyojuro had laughed so hard that one of his stitches tore. Giyuu didn't apologize enough by his standards.
Sleep came easy yet again. Giyuu knew that more nights against Kyojuro's bare chest were guaranteed, and Giyuu couldn't find a single reason to complain. Just as he was seconds away from falling asleep, or maybe it was the beginning of a nice dream, he heard the words Kyojuro had yet to confess to him:
"I love you."
So, with as much strength as Giyuu could gather:
"I love you too."
Giyuu must be living a dream.
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I haven't watched the episodes of Netflix's Avatar the Last Airbender yet, but they have already brought joy to my life.
My little brother had never been a book reader, and he tends to prefer war movies and video games that don't lend themselves to movies being made about them. He doesn't frequent fandom spaces. Sure he's watched plenty adaptations, but he's never been into the position of loving an original work and then watching an adaptation. Until today.
And hearing his indignant, almost spiritual, revelation that he is, in fact, the exact same kind of nitpicky, originalist fan that dislikes changes as he's always complained I am (to be fair that is a very accurate accusation) is fucking hilarious. The wide crackhead eyes he gave me as he told me that "I'm turning into you" before complaining about every thing episode 1 was doing wrong in his opinion were entirely worth the cost of this production as far as I'm concerned. After years of him exasperatingly telling me that they're allowed to make changes, he just stormed into my room to scream about them skipping Sokka's arc on Kyoshi. I am vindicated; and extremely entertained.
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Another silly little gay oars poem
We’ve been traveling this world for ages
trying to see every last little bit of it
and I can see the memories in your eyes
when we are back home
the boat gently swaying on our lake
You have always been tougher than me
but I have always been stronger
When you open your eyes again
after the boat rocked us to sleep
I can see future plans in your eyes
and we will start again
and travel to the next country
I have always been softer than you
but you have always been sweeter
I have always searched for the great wide world
I have always searched for a home
I found both in your breath
(from the perspective of oar oar, about sword oar)
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