does greed really think his full ultimate shield form is ugly? does he think he’s ugly when he’s like that? really? does he? does he know that’s false? does he know that he is beautiful always especially then and i would kiss him, then? does he know. does he
Damen turned his head to look at his husband, still sprawled out across the pillows. “And you’re just full of youthful exuberance, are you?”
“Of course. My back isn’t making that sound.”
“You weren’t standing half the night, listening to ambassadors complain about things. Don’t think I don’t know that you arranged to have that hunt run late.”
Laurent didn’t deny it, only smiled. Damen leaned across the bed to kiss him. Laurent lifted his hands to run them through Damen’s hair. “And what’s your excuse for why you’re the one with gray hair?”
“You like my gray hair.”
“I do. It makes you look regal and wise, which I find endlessly amusing.”
“And I’m not so sure that you aren’t right behind me with it.” Damen ran his fingers lightly through Laurent’s hair. It wasn’t as obviously graying as Damen’s was, but it was no longer the bright gold it had been in his youth.
Laurent kissed him rather than reply, and it was a few minutes before Damen managed to pull away.
“We’re supposed to be in the throne room soon,” he said, though he made no effort to get off the bed.
“We’re the kings. I’m sure they’ll wait for us. Besides, we have children. What use are they if they don’t cover for us sometimes?”
Damen laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell them that’s what you think of them.”
“It’s good practice.”
Laurent leaned up for another kiss, then slumped back down into the cushions, smiling. “Come on,” he said. “Come back to bed. Properly.”
“We have a meeting. If we aren’t there soon they’re going to send someone in here to look for us.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been seen.”
“Laurent, I love you with all of my heart and soul but if you continue to be so completely shameless about the guards walking in on us I am going to have to put an end to this relationship.”
Laurent rolled his eyes fondly. “It’s good to know that some things simply never change.”
“Things like Veretians having no sense of dignity.”
“And Akielons having a sense of dignity I cannot begin to understand.” For a moment, Laurent didn’t move beyond continuing to play with Damen’s hair. “I still sometimes feel as though this is some sort of wonderful dream,” he said softly. “Even after all these years.”
Damen kissed him with all the reassurance and love he could manage. “You’re not.” In one swift motion he got off the bed and moved to get dressed. “But if that is an attempt to get me to stay in bed with you, it isn’t going to work.”
Laurent scoffed and Damen heard the rustling of sheets that meant Laurent was getting out of bed too.
There’s something I don’t understand about Hockey and Hockey fans, and it has to do with the Captains of each team, and to an extent the Alternates.
I don’t think some people understand what the actual job of a Captain and an Alternate is. Now by no means am I an expert, I haven’t been a hockey fan all my life, but I think I do get this concept.
The job of the Captain and the Alternates of a hockey team, be it NHL, OHL, AHL, KHL, or any other hockey team from pee wee to the show; is to make sure that everyone has a voice on the team, to make sure that everyone is alright on the team, and to make sure everything is relatively fair in the game.
The refs job is to actually make sure everything is fair in the game, but it’s the Captains and Alternates jobs to talk to the refs before and after a call has been made in order to figure out why that call was made in the first place.
I’m about to make an example of why I think that some people don’t understand the role of the Captain and Alternates using Sid Crosby, so get ready for that.
Since I started liking hockey, like since the day that I stared liking hockey, all that I’ve heard about Sidney Crosby is that he whines a lot. I’ve heard he’s good at hockey, I’ve heard he’s bad at hockey, I’ve heard countless things about this guy, but the one thing I’ve heard more than anything else since starting to like this sport is that he’s a whiner.
Like that’s his job. HIS JOB IS TO ASK THE REFS WHAT HAPPENED AND TRY TO MAKE SURE THE GAME IS FAIR. It’s not whining, it’s doing his job.
I don’t understand why people are so upset about him doing this because EVERY OTHER CAPTAIN AND ALTERNATE IN THE LEAGUE DOES THIS.
It’s just something that I’ve noticed about Hockey and Hockey fans, and I wasn’t sure if they knew.
Yahaba leans out the second floor window, closing one eye as he focuses on his target. He watches as Kyoutani nears the front door, pulling out his keys, and-
Dropping the balloon, he holds back a snort as it hits Kyoutani’s head, causing it to pop. Water instantly rushes down his head and shoulder’s, causing him to make a noise of surprise.
Kyoutani whips his head up, only to be met with another water balloon.
“What the fuck,Yahaba?!” He snaps, wiping his face with his hands- like that would really do anything. Yahaba only sticks his tongue out, sending a wink down at him before disappearing into the room.
Yahaba doesn’t hear anything for a total of six minutes and forty seven seconds.
Then he hears the door open and the sound of footsteps running up the stairs, and that’s when he knows he’s fucked.
The door to their shared room flies open, and Kyoutani barrels in. The next thing Yahaba knows is that there’s water in his face, soaking into his hair and clothes.
“Holy fuck buckets of cats, it’s on!” He snaps, glaring at Kyoutani with his stupid water gun.
He gets sprayed with more water before he can reach for his other balloons. Scooping up the remainder of the balloons, he turns back to the door- only to find Kyoutani gone.
That lil shit.
Racing out of the room, he bolts down the hallway and leans over the balcony. He finds Kyoutani by the couch, back turned towards him. What a fool. Aiming perfectly, the balloon arches flawlessly, smacking right in the middle of Kyoutani’s back, drenching his shirt.
When Kyoutani yelps and whirls around, Yahaba ducks down behind the balcony. ‘Haha, bitch, I have the upper hand,’ he muses to himself, laughing quietly. He carefully looks over the edge, trying to find Kyoutani.
Only, he wasn’t there. Ice cold water suddenly hits his back,causing him to squeak in surprise. He twists his body around, throwing the balloon right at Kyoutani- only for him to dodge and for the balloon to violently hit a picture on the wall.
Yahaba curses when he sees he’s out of ammo, and Kyoutani easily takes note of this. He lifts the gun up with a smirk on his lips, and it’s like it’s out of some lame spy movie. Yahaba lunges forward, wrapping his arms around Kyoutani’s waist, causing both of them to topple to the floor- Yahaba lying on top of Kyoutani.
With a grunt, Kyoutani sits up on his elbows, “Okay, wow, fuck- you win,” he wheezes, glaring down at his boyfriend.
“Damn right I do,” Yahaba chuckles, removing one of his arms from Kyoutani’s waist so that he can tap his lips with his pointer finger, “so give me my reward.”
Kyoutani rolls his eyes, but the grin he was fighting back wins as it spreads across his face. He slowly leans in, placing a gentle, warm kiss to Yahaba’s lips.
Lmao I got a job offer at that place that’s super sexist (the one with the awkward interview) and I didn’t take it. Aside from the awful people, the salary was fucking low, like lower than it had any right to be even for a fresh grad. Like dude, no wonder you’ve been looking for someone to fill that position for months. It also doesn’t help that you keep objectifying your female employees so. Yeah bye.
I have survived my first year of graduate school, have put over 75k of filth on the internet, and met an improbable number of amazing people. Thank you to RT for giving me an outlet, thank you to @dovingbird for introducing me to RT, and thank you to every single one of you that follows me or has ever read my stories for making what would have otherwise been a very lonely year something I’m glad to have lived.