whales beneath me, swimming down

We Got Your Back Project is not dead...

2011-05-25T04:03:25Z

Originally posted by tanyad at We Got Your Back Project is not dead...

We Got Your Back Project is still alive and still seeking submissions.

I had a chance to talk the project up at Gay Is the New Black? Event hosted by JF tonight. Hopefully this will generate some interest and new submissions.

Can I ask a favor? Can you all please signal boost this project for me & whereisjoy? We don't want to see it die but to thrive it needs stories, your stories so that our POC-LGBTQIA youth know that they are not alone and just because someone says its gets better, that it may not apply to them.

I'll also post this on WordPress so you can tweet it, Facebook it and pass it on.

Inquiries can be made at: wegotyourbackproject@gmail.com

Sumbission Info

Submission guidelines are below. If you come across something you think would be good for posting, please email us at wegotyourbackproject@gmail.com or tweet at us WGYBProject on Twitter.

Thanks for your interest in contributing to the “We Got Your Back” Project! We are accepting videos and written statements that share how the lives of LGBTQIA people get better when we have each others back. Give some hope to LGBTQIA youth by telling them how your own life improved. To submit, send an email to wegotyourbackproject@gmail.com We request that posts meet the following guidelines:

Videos: Please keep videos to no more than 8 minutes maximum. If you have a video on YouTube or Vimeo, please submit a link to the video and a brief description.

Length: 2,500 word maximum. (Please note, longer posts may be broken up into several posts on the project)

Language: Feel free to use adult language, however please warn for swearing or other adult and/or potentially triggering language in your post at the beginning. If you do share potentially triggering material, we ask that you use the “more” tag to put it behind a cut.

Permission to repost/share your content: Please indicate to us whether or not you consent to the sharing of your material outside of this project when you submit your post and/or video.

Originally posted on tanyad @Dreamwidth. Feel free to comment here, or there

Is there a rumor going around that I've died?

2009-06-05T14:27:39Z

Because its not true. MY COMPUTER, however, super seriously died. I can only check ze email occasionally and Live Journal isnt really appropriate at school so.. SORRY FOR THE WEEKS OF NOT LURKING AROUND. I hope you are all well. I will get a new computer sometime in the next month and then I can finaly get back to blabbering.

ilu all lots!

Goodbye Coastal regions.

2009-01-27T15:26:42Z

This.. is pretty damn terrifying.

Global warming 'irreversible' for next 1000 years

:|:|:|:|:|:|

cherprudence @ 2008-09-10T22:32:00

2008-09-10T13:47:57Z

I usually start any politically themed post with an apology of some sort, or a disclaimer. I think I mainly do it because I have a great many friends with different political views than me, and rather than rock the boat, I'd like to keep us all friends by flashing some warning signs about it. But, considering this election is going to be a very big one, I dont want to apologize for speaking to something that important, nor do I want to apologize for voicing my opinions, different as they may be. I will, however, make a disclaimer that many of you 'mericans are probably overrun with politics right now, and for bringing it up again I apologize!

Continuing on, I'm going to do very little speaking and just post from neo_prodigy's entry HERE, which was written by Adam McKay.

The ending is most important to me-- I sometimes think about the future of our country. All great empires eventually fall, and I wonder sometimes if this is the time that we will fall. Rome and Babylon and the Holy Roman Empire all fell to wars, poverty, and a new dominating culture/thought. We have the war (not yet on our soil), we'll have more poverty to come, and I wonder if China is to become the new powerhouse. I'd venture to call it incredibly interesting to watch this all come down, if not for the fact that I have, you know, some invested interest in the ol' US of A :|

anyways----

A Loser's Game

"Stop saying that!" my wife says to me. But this is not a high school football game and I'm not a cheerleader with a bad attitude. This is an election and as things stand now, we're gonna frickin' lose this thing. Obama and McCain at best are even in the polls nationally and in a recent Gallup poll McCain is ahead by four points.

Something is not right. We have a terrific candidate and a terrific VP candidate. We're coming off the worst eight years in our country's history. Six of those eight years the Congress, White House and even the Supreme Court were controlled by the Republicans and the last two years the R's have filibustered like tantrum throwing 4-year-olds, yet we're going to elect a Republican who voted with that leadership 90% of the time and a former sportscaster who wants to teach Adam and Eve as science? That's not odd as a difference of opinion, that's logically and mathematically queer.

It reminds me of playing blackjack (a losers game). You make all the right moves, play the right hands but basically the House always wins. I know what you're going to say " But I won twelve hundred dollars last year in Atlantic City!" Of course there are victories. The odds aren't tilted crazy, but there is a 51%-49% advantage. And in the long run, the house has to win. The house will win.

So what is this house advantage the Republicans have? It's the press. There is no more fourth estate. Wait, hold on...I'm not going down some esoteric path with theories on the deregulation of the media and corporate bias and CNN versus Fox...I mean it: there is no more functioning press in this country. And without a real press the corporate and religious Republicans can lie all they want and get away with it. And that's the 51% advantage.

Think this is some opinion being wryly posited to titillate other bloggers and inspire dialogue with Tucker Carlson or Gore Vidal? Fuck that. Four corporations own all the TV channels. All of them. If they don't get ratings they get canceled or fired. All news is about sex, blame and anger, and fear. Exposing lies about amounts of money taken from lobbyists and votes cast for the agenda of the last eight years does not rate. The end.

So one side can lie and get away with it. Now let's throw in one more advantage. Voter caging and other corruption on the local level with voting. Check out the article here on HuffPost about Ohio messing with 600K voters. If only five thousand of those voters don't or can't vote that's a huge advantage in a contest that could be decided by literally dozens of votes. That takes us to about a 52 to 48% advantage.

I'm not even getting into the fact that the religious right teaches closed mindedness so it's almost impossible to gain new voters from their pool because people who disagree with them are agents of the devil. I just want to look at two inarguable realities: A) we have no more press and B) the Repubs are screwing with the voters on the local level.

I'm telling you, we're going to lose this thing. And afterwords we'll blame ourselves the same way we did with Gore and Kerry (two candidates a thousand times more qualified to lead than W Bush.) Just watch.. McCain wins by a point or two and we all walk around saying things like "Obama was too well spoken." "Biden wasn't lovable enough." "I shouldn't have split those eights." "Why did I hit on 16? Why?!"

So what do we do?

1) We give definitive clear speeches like Biden and Obama gave the other day about how no one talked about any issues at the Republican Convention and how they outright lied. But we do them over and over again. 2) We use the one place where it's still a 50-50 game -- the internet -- as much as we can. 3) But most importantly we should bring up re-regulating the media and who owns it and what that conflict of interest is a lot more. By pretending there's no conflict of interest we're failing to alert the public that they're being lied to or given a looking at a coin at the bottom of a pool slanted truth. Every time a pundit or elected official is on any TV news program it should be a polite formality to mention that GE has made such and such billions off the war in Iraq by selling arms or that Murdoch is a right-wing activist with a clear stake in who wins and who taxes his profits the least. Disney, GE, Viacom, and Murdoch -- all want profits and the candidate and agenda that will get in their way the least.

Obama and Biden should also create a "master sound bite sentence" and repeat it hundreds of times. It should be so true that even the corporations can't screw with it when it makes the airwaves. Here's my attempt: "Katrina, four dollar gas, a trillion dollar war, rising unemployment, deregulated housing market, global warming...no more."

This race should be about whether the Republican Party is going to be dismantled or not after the borderline treason of the past eight years. But instead it is about making the word "community organizer" a dirty word and a beauty queen who shoots foxes from a plane. Someone is not in any way doing their job and it's the press. Or more specifically, that job no longer exists.

Probably the worst offenders are the pundits who take the position that it's all just a game and say phrases like "getting a post-convention bump" or "playing to the soccer Moms." This isn't a game of Monopoly or Survivor. There are real truths that exist outside of the spin they are given and have an effect on lives. 250,000 Iraqi civilians are dead because we let our reality be distorted by the most effective propaganda machine in fifty years, the corporate American press. Money and jobs are flying out of this country as our currency becomes worthless and we're talking about the fact that McCain is a veteran. If someone busted into your house and robbed you would you then forgive them if you found out they were a veteran? Of course not. So why are we forgiving McCain for selling out his country by supporting the Bush agenda?

This is it folks. If McCain takes power we fade and become Australia in the seventies: a backwoods country with occasional flashes of relevance. Except we've got a way bigger military and we're angrier. People will get hurt and we'll pay the bill for the bullets. I'm telling you, unless we wake up, we're gonna lose this frickin' thing.

----

I'm registering to vote from abroad right now. I urge you all (who are of age :x) to pay attention, to look at the facts, to listen to your own beliefs, and most importantly, TO VOTE!

FOR PEOPLES OF FANDOM

2008-05-27T19:27:26Z

In case you didn't know, there's a vote going on right now. A vote for a Representative of the People sort of a role on the Eljay board. There are several candidates up and about. The illustrious bookshop gives a break down HERE, focusing mainly on those candidates who are in fandom (who would therefore best represent Fandom) and those who are not (the good and the bad).

PLEASE! My dearlings! If you have any interest at all at how LJ is run and if you have any issues with the current trend of things, I urge you to vote. We all know the Power of Voting (and the subsequent lack of it's influence in many cases), but here is a chance where we can really get in there and do something. For USA kiddos, think of it as a practice before the big 08 Vote! For Kiddos of More Often to be Voting Countries, think of this as keeping up your stamina for your upcoming and frequent elections.

If nothing else, think of it as a chance to click on buttons in a poll!!! WE LOVE POLLS!

And for those of you who are Moderators of a community, HERE is a way for you to get involved. ♥

HEY FLIST WHATS UP

2008-03-19T19:59:51Z

There is an LJ Content Strike on March 21, 2008. Midnight to midnight GMT.
For one day, Friday, March 21, make no posts. Make no comments. Let there be NO new content added to LJ. SUP obviously does not realize that Basic users have given something of value to them, that it is content that drives the site. So, for one 24-hour period, from midnight GMT to midnight GMT, let's see how many people we can get to pledge to contribute NO CONTENT. This will create a permanent downward spike in the daily-posts statistics, a permanent reminder of the power of the userbase. Full information at The Fox's Den.

:Db

cherprudence @ 2007-11-09T16:43:00

2007-11-10T00:47:19Z

Stollen from the illustrious otterdance

Once more unto the Cher, dear friends, once more.

Which work of Shakespeare was the original quote from?

The Cher doth protest too much, methinks.

Which work of Shakespeare was the original quote from?

He hath eaten me out of house and Cher.

Which work of Shakespeare was the original quote from?

This Cher hath a pleasant seat.

Which work of Shakespeare was the original quote from?

For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the Cher of kings.

Which work of Shakespeare was the original quote from?

TWICE IN ONE DAY! OMG! world coming to an end.

ALSO:

Matsuura VI: you're a cyborg now
Matsuura VI: your machinery governs everything your body does
Matsuura VI: against your WILL
Matsuura VI: *cue the sound of glass breaking*

adhlashdaljdasjas

cherprudence @ 2007-09-17T22:44:00

2007-09-18T05:45:39Z

Robert Jordan has passed away

Rest In Peace, Dragon.

cherprudence @ 2005-02-13T21:01:00

2005-02-14T05:59:43Z

So I lied.

Title: Hero
Rating: PG-13 for Angst
Comments: O_o okay, this turned out much more sad and angsty than I planned. Niou and Kirihara are really mean in this one. I.. Uhm. WOW. This isnt a valentines day fic at all. Bunny, I will write you something more full of love. >.< I feel really bad for writing this instead of writing something lovely. But I had to get it out. =/ It's really bad. Wow. I'm so ashamed for posting this X____X

He was crying. Strangled half sobs as he pressed himself tightly into the corner where the lockers met the wall. His hands trembled as they covered his mouth, struggling to keep back noises that would alert the boys only a few feet from him to his presence.

It had started innocently enough. Finishing his laps early (stealing Yagyuu's cupcake had been a good idea), Bunta rushed to the locker room to get changed. Niou and Kirihara followed, and Bunta had hid in the corner. He didn’t want to have to talk to them, or pretend to hate Kirihara. He was tired and wanted to go home, a day of tests having completely worn him out.

"Where'd the Pink Terror go?" Kirihara, as usual, sounded whiney. But there was something else there--a hint of malice. His match with Yanagi hadn’t gone very well, and Sanada ended up slapping him across the face when he tried a knuckle serve.

"Dunno. Probably home to eat." Niou was in a bad mood too. Yagyuu had reprimanded him for slacking off during the match, but Niou swore he wasn’t slacking. He was trying, but he was tired and Yagyuu wasn’t helping, the jerk. Yukimura stopped that argument, but Yagyuu kept casting Niou exasperated glances.

"I'm surprised he isn’t as fat as a cow by now. Can you believe Yukimura actually lets him eat that much?" Kirihara had tried to smuggle in some snacks earlier that week and Yanagi had absconded them, under buchou's direct orders.

"If he ever stops playing, he'll balloon up like... a balloon." Niou was frowning, his voice a low growl as something rattled in his locker.

Something went wrong deep in side Bunta's chest, right around where he figured his core was. It was like someone poured ice right into his belly--cold, painful and spreading. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before--Kirihara and Niou constantly mocked his eating; even Yagyuu remarked he ate quite a lot for his small stature. But Bunta had always been there, laughing with them. He never, ever thought he was being laughed at. You just didn’t do that to teammates. The cold was still spreading, and even if he curled up tightly, he couldn’t stop it.

"Fuck, I can’t believe Yagyuu said that today. What the hell was that?"

"Marui was laughing, you know." Kirihara was smiling, his words twisting through his cruel mouth.

"I know. I could fucking hear him. I can always fucking hear him."

That was when Marui started crying for reals. The cold broke like a wave, giving way to something far worse--hot, acid tears. He managed to clamp a hand over his mouth before a sob escaped, wishing his shoulders would stop aching and his chest would stop hurting as ever breath came like a final gasp. He was vaguely surprised they hadn’t heard him yet, his soft sniffles and quiet whines going unnoticed. Even Niou would be impressed.

"Did you hear him today? Coming to practice?" Kirihara was messing with his hair. He always sounded childish when he messed with his hair. But Bunta didn’t know any child to be that cruel.

"With Jackal? Fuck yeah. What a lazy princess." Niou snorted and Bunta could imagine his shoulders sliding back with his chuckle. The image just made his chest hurt even more.

"He was like 'Jackal, buy me ice cream later today~' and like 'Jackal, get me gum and paint my toenails and carry me around and kiss my feet'." Kirihara was laughing loudly now. Bunta wanted to scratch out his eyes, because now he was making fun of Jackal too. And maybe he deserved it--he was arrogant, and he was loud and he did eat a lot, but Jackal never deserved it. Jackal only deserved the best. "I didn’t know Jackal was such a bitch."

Something hard and heavy hit the lockers with enough force to startle Bunta out of his sad stupor and he recognized a very familiar growl.

"Akaya." Jackal was angry. Really angry. He only called Kirihara by his first name when he was trying to get the second year to stop crying, or when he was trying to make him start. "I'm no one's bitch. Least of all my best friend's. Don't talk about people like you know them. In fact, don't open your mouth. You seem a lot smarter that way."

Kirihara whined something that Bunta couldn't hear; making faint clicks against the lockers as he struggled to get out from under Jackal's grip. Even Niou was silent.

"You should be more careful about flapping your mouth when other people could be listening." Footsteps approached, and Jackal's shiny head suddenly appeared in vision and he nearly screamed. It was either than, or die of embarrassment. Bunta chose the latter. But Jackal had a different idea. Grabbing his arms, he hauled Bunta up, giving him just enough time to wipe his eyes before tugging him away from the corner.

Kirihara was rubbing his shoulder, mouth open wide. Niou was blank, a sullen expression that wasn’t quite anger and wasn’t quite remorse upon his face. Bunta felt like crying again, naked and trapped before his captors. But Jackal placed a hand at the small of his back and pressed slightly, as if pushing the cold and the sorrow right through him and out into the air. Slipping closer to Jackal's side, he took a deep breath and glared.

"At least I'm not a coward." Bunta said softly before striding towards the door, Jackal right by his side.

Once away from the locker room, Bunta slipped both his arms around Jackal's waist and hugged himself close. His eyes were tearing up again and he hoped Jackal wouldn’t notice. But Jackal always noticed.

"You okay?" Strong hands passed through his hair and he nodded.

"Better now. Uhm.. Thank you?" It felt weird thanking Jackal. But that was probably because he didn’t do it nearly enough.

"Naw. I just wanted to say something before you jumped out and beat them up. I was almost afraid I was too late, and you would have gone at them anyways. They were scared--could you tell?"

Bunta almost laughed, biting down on Jackal's shirt as he pressed closer. "Yeah... You're supposed to be my hero, not theirs."

"You don’t need a hero." Jackal's arms came up around him, holding him tight and his breath tickled Bunta's hair.

"I need you."

They stood, quiet and warm, for a long moment, the coldness long forgotten somewhere behind him. Jackal finally pulled away some what and cupped Bunta's face. "How about that ice cream?"

"Let's skip it. I don’t want anything distracting me from you."

"I said you didn’t need to thank me." Jackal was really kind of cute when he blushed.

"It's not thanks. You have to help me plan my revenge." Kirihara and Niou might have made him cry, but he'd make them pay. He'd make them pay for sure, because with Jackal on his side, he was safe from every kind of hurt.

X________X forgive that. Ignore that, in fact. HRGH BLEEH. Off to study again X_x

cherprudence @ 2004-12-13T13:48:00

2004-12-13T13:49:21Z

Title: [Renamed] Orthodox
Raiting: PG-13 - R
Pairing: Niou/Bunta, mentions of other Rikkai
Disclaimer: So not mine (I know, it pains me)
Summary: Marui deals with the aftermath of Niou's break up and some things are finaly resolved.
Comments: WOOHOO! I'm done! It's sort of crazy =3 And it didn't take as long this time! Thanks go to soloproject for answering my questions. The Jackal parts are dedicated to her =3 And thanks go to everyone who told me to write a sequel ^_^

Manifest and Pseudo can be found by clicking on them :D yay!

"I think," Jackal said, peering across the court, "Yagyuu and Niou broke up."

"Huuhh??" Marui peeked around from where he was hiding behind his doubles partner, gum stuck to his lips. Marui always hid behind Jackal when they had a match against Doubles 1. He would chew his gum noisily, sometimes complaining about school work or Kirihara being a brat, but he never stepped away until the very last moment. He'd then walk out onto the court, serious for once and play silently until the game was over. It didn’t matter whether they won or lost--he'd give his all quietly as if the two players across from him were strangers. As if Jackal were a stranger.

But off the courts, away from the people that Marui cared so much about, he was normal. He came over to Jackal's house often, playing Nintendo Tennis and eating every piece of food Jackal had stashed in his room. Sometimes Akaya came over too and they'd chase each other around, throwing pillows and insults back and forth over Jackal's head. They'd argue like children, sending Jackal into the other room with a head ache. Akaya would follow, biting on his shoulder and pinching his sides and when they came back out, Marui would be gone. He had developed the best timing on the team.

"I think they broke up." Niou and Yagyuu were examining Yagyuu's black racquet. Yagyuu said something and Niou rolled his eyes, striding off to get his water bottle.

"How the hell can you tell?" Marui straightened and looked a little closer, frowning a little because the pain had really never truly faded.

"Well...” Jackal passed a hand over his head with a sigh, brows upturned. "They're acting different. There isn’t any... tension between them anymore."

Marui just stared.

"It's time." Yukimura smiled from where he stood on the sidelines, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun. "Jackal and Yagyuu, you two against Niou and Marui. I want you to use your knowledge of your doubles partners against each other." This was going to be interesting.

Jackal nodded to Yagyuu as he walked out onto the court, stretching his arms back behind his head. Yagyuu's eyes were on Niou, already assessing his mood and calculating his weaknesses. Jackal’s eyes strayed to Niou for a moment, who stood almost awkwardly near the other court, looking anywhere but toward the benches. Jackal didn’t know very much about what happened between Marui and Niou--all he knew was that nearly two years ago, Marui stopped sharing dirty details and funny stories about their relationship. Nearly two years ago, Marui stopped laughing for real, even though not a day went by where he didn’t smile. Jackal figured he and only one other person knew the difference.

Seconds later, Marui stormed across the court towards the locker room, waving his racquet. "I won’t play!"

Everyone's eyes snapped to Marui--Yukimura looked flustered and Sanada looked ready for a brawl. Though, Sanada always looked ready for some kind of fight. "Marui? Whatever do you mean?" Yukimura took a few steps after, voice smooth as honey.

"I won’t play!! Not with them, not ever! No!" Marui stormed into the locker room and slammed the door. Jackal wondered if he realized there was only one exit. The wordless yelling that followed confirmed his suspicions that Marui had forgotten. Sanada and Yukimura exchanged looks, their buchou's quiet strength subduing Sanada's rage as amethyst eyes turned to Jackal. He sighed.

"Yeah, I'll get him."

Marui didn’t come out until after practice, throwing things at the door and leaving Akaya howling with laughter. Once Sanada, fists clenched, declared practice over, Marui scampered out of the locker room as fast as his legs would carry him. Which was pretty fast.

Jackal walked home with a still cackling Akaya, not able to reach Marui by cell phone. He'd give him a day to cool off or so. But he didn’t miss the look of guilt that passed over the trickster's face before adopting his trademark smirk.

* * * * *

Marui didn't go to school the next day. He called in, claiming he had to baby-sit his sick brothers and hid in his bedroom for most of the morning. He didn’t cry, not once, even though he felt like his insides were going to twist all into a tiny, tiny knot. It didn’t help that he hadn't eaten anything.

He cursed Niou's name for several hours, throwing his pillows around and kicking at his bed. When he ran out of curse words, he rummaged through his comic books to find more. Once he found them all (even creative ones like "I should take you to the cleaners!"), he chucked the book across the room, pelting his closet doors. He went through four comic books until he gave up, exhausted and still angry.

But there wasn't anyone to yell at. There wasn't anyone he could talk to, because god almighty, why the hell would he talk to anyone? Why would he drag out into the open the worst thing that had ever happened to him--the worst the he'd ever done to himself? And why would he talk about the fact that his sacrifice had ended up without any result?

Marui started eating again before his parents got home, raiding the fridge and cupboards and his brothers' secret stash behind the stairs. He ate until he wanted to puke, curling up on the cool hardwood floors and listening to his faint heart beat. Marui took a deep breath, hearing his pulse race--and then he let it out slowly, listening as the distance between each beat lengthened. He imagined, for a moment, the sound stopping--the complete lack of another beat and the continuing silence.

The thought scared him so much, he ran to the bathroom and threw up in the sink, hands covering his eyes to hold back the tears. He didn’t want to cry, not even when he felt like he was emptying his soul along with his stomach. He rinsed his mouth and staggered to his bedroom, hiding from the world under pink-stripped covers until he feel asleep.

When Marui went to practice the next day, he didn't look at anyone. He didn’t even cast a glance to Jackal to acknowledge that he had received the 4 voice mail messages and 5 text messages left on his phone. He walked straight up to Sanada and Yukimura and bowed deeply, waiting to hear the number of the laps he'd have to run and how long he'd be sitting on the bench.

Sanada slapped him across the face so hard he stumbled. Yukimura murmured something softly and Sanada stepped back, but Marui's ears were ringing and he didn’t hear. His eyes burned and he was sure he tasted blood in his mouth--he had never been hit by Sanada before, even back when Yukimura was in the hospital and tensions were running high. Even Jackal had been hit. He bit his lip and sucked on his bleeding cheek, staring at the ground in shock until Sanada told him to go running.

Marui felt eyes on his back as he jogged around the courts, feet dragging slightly with each step. He was tired--tired of mind games and stepping around people, tired of hurting deep inside. Two years of being tired just pilled up and when he was ordered to sit on the bench and just watch, he almost feel asleep with his eyes open. But he watched Yukimura stretching and chatting with Renji; he watched Jackal rally with some of the younger players, their short little legs flailing as they tried to catch up; he watched everyone except the two people who seemed determined to get into his line of sight. He spent so much time avoiding looking towards flashes of silver or gold, he didn’t notice the tennis ball heading straight for his forehead.

After practice, he walked home without changing, summer tennis uniform tight across his back and slummed shoulders. The sugary snacks in his bento box remained uneaten and as he walked, he wrinkled his brow in order to feel the bruise forming.

"Hey."

Marui froze, one foot hovering above the ground. He turned, slowly, and lifted his eyes to where Niou was leaning against the stone wall by the vending machines. His hands were in his pockets and his tie was lose--roughly, like he yanked at it in a moment of irritation, or like when Marui used to tug at it with his teeth. Used to.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Marui didn’t think his voice had ever sounded so unsteady--not even when he was telling Niou that they shouldn’t be together anymore and that it was better this way and please, Niou, don’t be mad because you just don’t understand.

"I was in the area."

"You live two train stops away."

"I was in the area."

Marui turned and headed for home, ignoring the deep blue eyes that bore into his with something that looked like regret. Except, he had never ever seen regret in those eyes.

It took him a block to realize he was being followed. Niou had always been silent--the ability to walk quietly made it easier for him to pull pranks, like planting sardines in Sanada's locker when his back was turned, or stealing Akaya's little journal and getting far enough away to read it with out being mauled.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm hungry and you're supposed to invite me over." Niou spoke softly, using his midnight voice; the voice he always used when he wanted something special from Marui, or when he was half asleep and he'd say sweet, stupid things that he wouldn’t remember in the morning. Or when he and Yagyuu we're treating their doubles game like foreplay, hitting cloaked statements back and forth like tennis balls.

Marui tried to run home, escape Niou's strange insistence on being there, but they had reached his house before he realized it. His family was still out.

"No, Niou--" Marui didn’t even think it was real, standing in front his house, Niou standing only a few feet away. "What the hell, No. You don’t get to come in. You don’t get to come over here--You don’t get to talk to me just because you and Yagyuu--Why the hell did you break it off??"

Niou shrugged, lips twitching into that smirk that Marui used to like so much. He used to try and imitate it, jutting out his hip and saying "Piyo", but Niou would only roll his eyes. He never got it quite right. "Because it didn't work."

"Why not?! Why the hell did you screw it up?" Two years. It was such a long time ago.

Niou frowned, lifting a hand to tug on his tie. "Me, screw it up? What makes you think I did it?"

"Because you're the only one capable of screwing over a relationship that was obviously meant to be!" Marui hissed, fists clenched tightly by his sides. How desperately he wanted to throw a punch at Niou's perfect jaw--pay him back for that first blow he had suffered on the same porch so long ago.

"You did a pretty good job of it yourself!"

Marui couldn’t breath, couldn’t force his chest to expand and contract to take in air. Not when Niou was looking at him with... with something that he wasn’t supposed to ever see in Niou's eyes. Something that sucked the life from his chest and made pain and guilt tear through him with each panicked heartbeat.

Niou looked away and cursed, shoving his hands back in his pockets. They stood in silence, Marui's bottom lip trembling with the urge to cry, scream, say something--anything. He would have given everything to know what to say, to know the right words that could sooth over two years of hell and make it all better again; make it okay for him to welcome Niou into his house again.

"We've got cake."

"Better be chocolate."

"It's strawberry."

Niou came in anyways.

Marui cut the cake in silence, forcing his hands to be still as he pulled little plates from the cupboard. One of the pieces slid from the plate and he tried to catch it, but it slipped through his fingers, landing on the floor. Niou snickered and Marui tried to snap at him, but all that came out was some sort of whine--a little half sob as he struggled to hold his heart still in his chest. But the dam broke and he burst into tears, knees threatening to give out and drop him right next to the cake piece.

But there were slim hands grasping his shoulders and Marui threw himself into the offered arms, pressing against a blessedly familiar chest. He sobbed against Niou's neck, fisting cakey hands in his shirt as arms held him steady.

"I hate you, you bastard!" Marui could barely breathe, his chest aching because tears just didn’t expend the sorrow fast enough. "You think you can just come in here and make me cry when you're the jerk that did this to me and I hate you so much right now." Niou's hands slipped under his shirt and he shuddered at the contact, biting down on the neck under his lips. Niou's skin was salty and warm, just like he had remembered. "I hate you and it hurts and if you let go, I'll kill you!"

Niou's grip tightened and Marui's sobs quieted just enough so he heard Niou take an unsteady breath, lips hovering so close to his ear. He nodded once, and Marui felt him smile; all teeth and sharp lips. "You couldn’t hurt a fly." But his voice wasn’t steady--it was soft, shaky and so unsure. Niou was never unsure.

"I hate you!!" Marui bit hard enough to make Niou wince, growling and pushing him back against the table. He cupped Niou's face with sticky fingers, holding the gaze that felt so amazing and right that he wanted to start crying all over again. Niou smiled, a little lopsidedly and shyly, and opened his mouth to say something, but Marui cut him off with a kiss. A slow, for all it was desperate kiss and Marui did start crying again. He kept his eyes closed, feeling Niou's fingers in his hair and feeling whispers on his lips like an apology and he was pretty sure Niou was crying too. At least on the inside.

* * * * *

Two weeks later, the stories and enticing details started up again, filling Jackal's ears non stop as if Marui was making up for lost time. He left messages in the middle of the night about if Niou groped him in his sleep, or what embarrassing secret about Yagyuu the redhead managed to weed out of the trickster. Akaya delighted in spreading the rumors, but Yagyuu never seemed to really mind. In fact, he seemed more content than he had in a while when everyone started stumbling upon Niou and Marui making out in practically every corner of the campus.

Practice became loud again, as Marui shouted throughout their matches, waving his racquet and demanding he be called 'genius' again. Yukimura complied, if only to humor him and even Sanada looked compelled to consider the possibility when Marui sidled up next to him and turned on the charm. But Niou never, ever gave in. Jackal had the feeling Marui didn’t really want him to.

KKM Fic

2004-12-12T15:30:11Z

Title: Last Request
Rating: PG for some angst.
Disclaimer: Alas, not mine >.>
Summary: Yuuri reflects on..stuff
Warnings: Bad grammer, spelling mistakes, spoilers for after 32ish.
Comments: I love Conrad. This is how i deal with the pain. *Cries*

It's been... how many days since I've seen you? Four? Seven? Maybe it's been just one long day that never ends, or one long night. Because the sun doesnt feel very warm on my back anymore.

I havent thought about you, really thought about you, for a while. So many things have been happening and I have to focus on other things. Murata is here. He was sucked in some how, so I guess I'm not really alone. But I feel it. I feel even worse for not doing more to some how help you. You're always the one saving me. I guess I am really a stupid king.

But even now, I hear your voice and it's filled with encouragement. I can still see your gentle smile. Every time I look down, I see the jewel you gave me--I think it protects me, just as you did. Do. I wish you hadn't given it to me, because it would have protected you.

Sometimes you're so stupid! Don't you think your saftey is important to me, too? Did you ever think how much it'd hurt to lose you..? I know I have to be careful and it's weird knowing I'm so important to this world, but you're important too! You're important to me.

And if this is some test, some Right of Passage or whatever that I have to go through.. If its some test to see if I can survive without you--survive without you keeping Gwendell from growling at me, or survive without you keeping Wolfram from strangling me, or survive without you believing in me 100 percent... Then I almost wish I'd fail. I wish I'd fail this stupid test so you'd come back, because I need you. I never knew how much until now.

But I wont fail, no matter what. Because what's more painful than you being gone is knowing that if I fail, I'll be hurting so many more people, and whats worse, dissapointing you. Dissapointing Gwendell, and Wolfram and Gunter and everyone. I have to do this. And you make me believe I can.

Even now, when the last thing I have of you is down at the bottom of the ocean, I dont think you're really gone. Because I'd know. I'd somehow know and right now, I can't imagine you not coming back. I just... can't imagine how you'd come back. But you just have to. You have to. That's an order.

Fic!

2004-12-09T21:11:05Z

Title: Zenzen
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jabun
Summary: Jackal's out of town.
Copyright: Not mine :d
Comments: For the lovely soloproject in return for NiouBun. I <3 her and hope she enjoys ^_~

"I miss Jackal." Bunta said.

"He'll be back in a day or two." Sanada replied with a long suffering sigh, head bowed over his math homework. Sanada really liked math. Once, Yukimura asked him for help when he was doing it after practice. He worked on it after practice every day since.

"Thats not the point." Bunta got up and walked out of the locker room. Yukimura was bringing in some of the extra tennis racquets. He always stayed late, too, but Bunta could never figure out why.

"I miss Jackal." Bunta said, a little louder so his captain could hear.

"Oh? I'm sure he misses you too." Yukimura smiled softly, calmly handing Bunta a few of the racquets as he headed inside. Yukimura always smiled softly and handed him things--sometimes it was a towel, sometimes it was a ball, sometimes it was the box of cake he had snuck into the club room.

"Thats not the point." Bunta smacked the racquets against each other with a sigh. He'd put them away later.

Bunta walked around the corner of the club room towards the back shed. There were muffled voices behind it and Bunta peeked his head around the corner.

"I miss--Oh........ uh, never mind."

Niou and Yagyuu didnt look up from where they were making out against the wall. Yagyuu and Niou always made out after practice. It was kind of weird, especially when they switched. He could never tell who was who--but he knew someone liked it when he was pressed against the wall roughly. Bunta decided he knew a little bit too much about D1.

After putting away the racquets, Bunta walked back to the club room to get his backpack. Sanada had left already, math work most likely finished, and Renji was putting away his clothes. Bunta opened his mouth.

"There's a 94% chance you're going to say you miss Jackal." Renji smiled.

"That's creepy." He could have said a million things. But then again, Renji was supposedly a bigger genius than he was. Renji was a data genius--all scary and full of numbers and percents. Bunta tried hard not to play him durring practice, since he'd always say creepy things as if he were reading minds.

"I heard you outside."

Bunta decided Renji wasnt all that he was cracked up to be.

On his way home, he ran into Kirihara practicing in the park. Kirihara wouldn't care if Bunta missed Jackal. He'd probably just try to beat him up, and then cry and blame it on Bunta or something. He decided to walk over anyways.

"I miss Jackal."

"Dont start crying now, baby." Kirihara smirked, tossing a tennis ball in the air. Bunta snatched it out of the air and frowned.

"I'm not a baby."

"Are too." Kirihara pawed at the ball, smirking.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are tooo!!"

"Am not, stupid!"

"Are too, Baby!!"

"You're the baby!"

"AM NOT!"

Bunta went home with a few scrapes, but he had managed to get Kirihara into a strangle hold until the second year whimpered, so he was pretty okay with the bruises.

His mother cooed over the marks, frowning with worry as she gave him a cookie.

"That bad boy..." Bunta's mom didnt like Kirihara very much. But that was mainly because Bunta liked to make up stories about him to scare his little brothers. "This wouldnt have happened if Jackal-kun was here."

"That's what I've been saying all day."

He went to his room with a few more cookies and a glass of milk and he didnt even have to fight his brothers for the Play Station. They were scared of his black eye. That, or they were sick of him talking about Jackal. Bunta figured it was the first.

Bunta went to sleep thinking about Jackal and had a dream about him. Actually, he had a dream about kicking Niou's butt in a poker match and swimming in cake, but he knew Jackal had been in it somewhere. Either that, or something about coffee. Bunta couldnt remember.

The next day, Bunta walked to morning practice alone, pouting the whole way. He hated walking alone, but there was no one to walk with. He could have walked with Kirihara, but he had stuck out his tongue and scampered off before the other could catch up. He could have walked with Yagyuu, but the gentleman was reading a book as he walked. Boring.

He walked into the locker room with a pout and walked right into a broad back. A creamy, dark skinned broad back. A yummy broad back that belonged to one Jackal Kuwahara.

"Jackal!"

"Hey." Jackal grinned and ruffled pink hair, not minding in the least when Bunta bit his arm and clung tightly to his shoulders. "Miss me?"

Bunta looked up, pouting slightly before he pressed his lips to Jackal's. Jackal blinked, a little surprised before he leaned into the kiss. Bunta pulled away soon after with a grin, shrugging his shoulders as he walked to his locker. "Not one bit."

A day late >.>

2004-12-05T18:26:29Z

This is for Niou, who's tricky, smexy ways have woed me and my Bunta like no other.

Title: Not Your Average Birthday Cake
Pairing: Niou/Bunta (of course :D:D:D)
Rating: pg-13?

"Another year. Big deal." Niou sighed slightly as he unlocked the door of his appartment, tossing his jacket and the 14 bags of candy he had received on the table. Since it was his last year at the Rikkai High school, the girls had been particularly prolific with their gifts. He didnt even like chocolate. But he knew someone who did..

"Welcome home~" The familiar voice of Marui drifted from the living room as Niou messed with his hair on his way to the kitchen. Marui had been living with him for two years--almost as long as he had been living out of his own house. His parents had set him up in the appartment when they had moved from the city and, though he'd never admit to it, living completely on his own made him a little uneasy. He had come home one day from shopping to find Marui on his doorstep, bags surrounding him as he grinned sheepishly. Seems he had 'happened' to be kicked out as well, his parents just not having enough room for him in their 4 bedroom house. It worked out fine; neither of them snored and if Marui hogged the blankets at night, Niou didnt mind too much--the redhead would flail himself out of bed if Niou pinched him hard enough. Only, Marui usualy bit in retaliation..

Niou chuckled, pouring himself some water. He glanced over into the living room to see Marui. A lot of Marui. In fact, all of Marui, save for a rather impressive birthday bow...thing that acted like a tiny peice of underpants. A very tiny peice.

"Happy Birthday~" Marui grinned nervously, posing with one hand on his hip and one in the air, his cheeks a faint pink. The pink flaired to a deep red when Niou burst out laughing. He laughed and laughed, clutching the door frame as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He laughed so hard he almost didnt notice Marui storming into the bedroom, leaving a little trail of bows.

"Oh, come on." Laughing fit mostly over, Niou made his way to the bedroom, snickering as he walked past little red and white bows. "You cant think you didnt look rediculous." Niou leaned on the door, biting his lip to keep from laughing, the silence radiating from the room not a very good sign. Marui was only silent when he was really angry, or really sad. "I mean, bows? C'mon! It's hilarious!" Still nothing. Niou sighed, almost ready to give up. No doubt there'd be a cake in the fridge he could munch on while the redhead cooled off. "Baby, it was a nice idea, but.. I mean..bows.." Uh oh, he was laughing again.

"Agh!!!" There was a thump against the door--probably a pillow. "Don't laugh, you jerk! Do you have any idea how much those bows hurt?? It took like, 20 minutes to put together!! I think I have tape up my ass!!"

Another pillow hit the door when Niou doubled over, laughing until he couldnt breath. "Agh, go to hell!! No bow sex for you!"

Niou heard a distinctive giggle and pushed open the door. "What? No--I was looking forward to it. I didnt think you were that flexible."

Niou caught the pillow aimed at his face with a grin and flopped down on the bed. Marui glanced over with a scowl and scooted away. He was wearing his pink & gray plaid p.j.s now, big fluffy ones that rode low on the hips and slipped off one shoulder. Niou watched the redhead for a few moments, smirking at his pout and grumpy eyebrows. "Why didnt you bake me a cake like last year?"

"I did bake you a cake." Marui scowled, rolling his eyes slightly as he toyed with the hem of his sweater. "I just wanted to something special. I wanted to look.. erm... sexy for you. Like a living cake er something less weird."

Niou snorted and yanked Marui over towards him. "Baka. You always look sexy."

Marui grinned and stradled him on the bed, pressing their lips together with a little growl. "Happy Birthday."

"Yeah, yeah." Niou slipped his hands under pink cloth, fingers straying across warm skin. "Enough with the birthday crap."

"But I've got one more present for you.." Marui grinned, pressing close and nipping at his lips.

"What's that?"

"Rememeber what you said about being flexible...? Well, I've gotten pretty good at doing something with my legs..."

~The End~

X.X lame and silly and it got crappy at the end. But HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I'm working on the Jabun, Bunneh! I promise!

Also >.< I will be on late tonight cuze I forgot about my roomies concert. Ehehehehe.......

plus! Does anyone want to make me a KENN layout? *sparkle* Anyone?

Fic (Mostly Experimental)

2004-11-14T04:30:30Z

So some of you might remember Manifest. This is the first part of the sequel and I'm really, really worried that this is OOC, badly written and stupid. So, comments/critisizm would be much appreciated. =/ seriously, if its bad fic, just be like "omg sux" and I will totaly be cool with it. I neeeeed to know for reals. <3

Title: Pseudo
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Niou/Yagyuu, Niou/Marui
Rating: R-ish
Summery: Niou works through his new relationship with Yagyuu and deals with the memories of the past.
Comments: This took me forever, and surely it’s a disappointing, sucky sequel. But I tried, damn it, I tried =3 Thank you all for suggesting it and challenging me.
Copyright: Definately not mine, as you can tell by the ooc ick

It was exactly thirteen months after Niou’s last relationship when Yagyuu asked him to dinner. The late afternoon air had been cool, and Niou’s shoulders twitched under his leather jacket at the question. He had wanted to growl out “About time…” but Yagyuu looked confident, a small smile across his lips, glasses reflecting in the sunset.

So Niou shrugged, hands in pockets, one hip jutted out as he watched the other through pale lashes. “Maybe.”

The smile slipped slightly and Yagyuu looked a little wary, like he was standing on the brink of uncertainty and about to fall—already falling into that black abyss. But Niou thought he was maybe thinking too much and nodded, “Yeah, sure, of course.”

And then it was okay—they both had laughed softly, leaning close, like two magnets drawn against their will. Yagyuu wanted everything right away. Waiting so long had been a slow bleed and his heart pumped painfully, wanting so much to just absorb Niou’s being. But then Niou had rolled his eyes, nudging Yagyuu’s shoulder as he asked about a time and place and he could breathe again.

Their first date was at a nice tempura place, ten minutes from Yagyuu’s house. He pulled open the door and when Niou walked through, he pressed his hand to Niou’s lower back, guiding him inside. That hand burned deep into Niou’s skin and he gritted his teeth, growing tense. To be pushed—guided like some girl, like a dependant… He almost snapped at Yagyuu, but the hand disappeared as they sat down and Yagyuu’s eyes held so many gentle secrets that Niou got over it.

They ate slowly, drawing out the conversation, never having had much to say. The food was decent and Yagyuu’s hand looked graceful as he set down his chopsticks in favor of tea.

They walked along the streets in silence, shoulders brushing, stealing glances and hiding smiles. When they reached Niou’s house, he joked about getting lucky, grinning until Yagyuu’s fingers touched his jaw and lips were upon his own. They pulled away soon after, a line pressed into Niou’s brow from glasses’ rims, a frown on Yagyuu’s lips.

“You ever done that before?”

“No.” Yagyuu replied, feeling embarrassment rise like a wave.

“Heh. Well, then…” And his glasses vanished, hands running along his shoulders. “Let’s try that again.”

It was better the second time. Yagyuu followed his lead, Niou’s mouth hot and his hands pressed against his shoulders, demanding the submission that Yagyuu was willing to give.

Yagyuu walked home alone flustered, parts of his body aflame. He resisted the urge to call Niou the moment he got home, opting to take a cold shower instead.

When he got out, dripping wet and still on fire, there was a text message on his phone; a simple “Thx”. He replied with “My pleasure,” allowing a smile to dance across his still-red lips.

Niou never really talked about Marui—barely talked to him when they had practice. Sometimes he’d open his mouth, frown with some pain Yagyuu couldn’t erase and his mouth would snap shut. Yagyuu never pried, but he wondered and watched, and tried to find things to say to smooth away Niou’s frown.

Yagyuu always said the prefect thing—if he couldn’t, he didn’t say anything at all. Sometimes, when Niou found himself alone in the locker room with Marui, or paired up for doubles training by their new coach, the silence would stretch on between them indefinitely. He’d finally just grasp Niou’s arm or shoulders and squeeze, bringing his attention back to the present. They’d go to Niou’s house and play X-box, scooting closer and closer until they ended up making out for hours.

Niou once broke Yagyuu’s glasses. He had been throwing a tennis ball in his room; enjoying the dull clunk it made as hit it the walls, disrupting Yagyuu’s studies. The ball bounced off the green-blue desk lamp and hit Yagyuu’s glasses square in the middle, snapping the frame and snapping Yagyuu’s patience.

They had their first argument since the date, bickering and snarling like old tom cats; Niou sarcastic, avoidant and insulting, Yagyuu aiming below the belt, throwing words back into Niou’s face.

The argument ended when Yagyuu apologized with a hand to his temple, and Niou backed him up against the dresser, jacking him off slowly, because Niou still didn’t say “I’m sorry.”

Yagyuu had tried to push Niou away, control slipping from his fingers just as Niou’s fingers slipped past his waist band. But he couldn’t deny the heat and the waves of pleasure that were building inside him with clever words. So he gave in, latched onto Niou’s shoulders and never looked back.

Romance and “lovey-dovey shit” never came easily to Niou when he was with Yagyuu. On the courts, he was an equal. During sultry make-outs, he was superior. But Yagyuu had a way of making him blush; making butterflies mass in his belly; making him feel like a damned sissy.

They went on a date once in early December, the first part of Niou’s birthday present. It was a cold, bitter evening. They walked together, bundled up—Niou’s cheeks flushed from the cold and a gloved hand grasping his own.

The streets were less crowed than usual and no one gave them a glance. Niou let his head fall against Yagyuu’s shoulders, his eyes drooping closed. They walked in silence until Yagyuu murmured a word of caution and Niou’s eyes snapped open. He avoided the curb, but caught sight of himself in a store window—huddled, withdrawn, docile. He tore away from Yagyuu and marched into the restaurant without a backwards glance.

He hated feeling that way. It was as if his tricks stopped working and he was caught in limbo. It was like being tossed from a window, twisting as he waited for the ground to approach so he could land on his feet. Sometimes, when Yagyuu said something particularly poetic or when he chuckled low and deep during a quite lunch hour, the ground was a long time in coming.

After a tense dinner, the dark mood pulsing through Yagyuu’s temples, they returned to Niou’s house. His parents were gone and Yagyuu walked in with a sense of foreboding. He was on unfamiliar ground, tension churning through the air.

Yagyuu hated the way his brain seemed to vanish when Niou looked at him a certain way. Niou knew which buttons to stroke, how to kiss him breathless and just when to pull away, leaving Yagyuu wanting something beyond his comprehension.

They made it to the bedroom before Yagyuu grabbed Niou by the shoulders, desperation causing his fingers to clench tightly. Niou just laughed and pushed him back against the wall. They kissed long and slow, fingers nervously tugging on clothes as they fumbled towards the bed.

Niou knew what to do, but he didn’t know Yagyuu’s body--didn’t know how far or how fast. He lost confidence as Yagyuu tried to gain some measure of some control, searching for his bearings. They fell into each other, tangling limbs, nervous and new like Niou’s first time. It was slow, and a little awkward, elbows getting in the way and flesh bruised with intensity. Yagyuu bled, and Niou couldn’t kiss away all the pain, even though he tried so hard to be careful. They both trembled and breathed deep, but some voice in the back of Niou’s mind wondered why Yagyuu didn’t laugh.

Two weeks later, Niou kicked and squirmed when he found himself on his back, Yagyuu straddling him on his immaculately clean bed, grasping wrists and holding his gaze.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Niou snapped, eyes narrowed into slits.

“I’m going to fuck you, Niou-kun. Slowly.” Yagyuu’s lips quirked slightly, drawing out Niou’s name like a caress.

Niou had watched him warily, Yagyuu no longer having glasses to dull the intensity of his eyes. But he soon relaxed and laughed, because it was okay. Yagyuu was the only person he’d let do this—the only person he wanted to trust this much since that time so long ago.

And with painful heat pushing inside him and his thoughts jumbled into the single perception of God that’s good, he didn’t have to worry about his mind playing tricks on him any more. He didn’t have to worry about seeing pink hair against his pillows or tasting sugar on his tongue.

The arguments started after three months of dates, sex and infallible tennis. Yagyuu always surprised Niou, his moods changing and flickering underneath his mask of calm. Niou was sometimes privy to Yagyuu’s inner thoughts and his bitter words or cold silences seemed like they came from a stranger. Yagyuu would sit sometimes silently during lunch, expression calm as Niou tried to start a conversation. Niou would finally curse, glaring through glasses into Yagyuu’s eyes until he was broke from his thoughts with a start. Yagyuu would say something trivial and pull out a book and Niou would lean his head on a tense shoulder, forgetting about it once class began again.

Niou, however, never surprised Yagyuu. He had gotten used to expecting the unexpected, and guessing which outburst was coming up next became simple as Niou became more and more a part of his life. They would bicker about the smallest things and Yagyuu would count the stages of anger—annoyance, sarcasm, avoidance, distraction and then defeat, or flight. Niou never stayed too long after he lost an argument. He would storm from the room to blow off some steam, back again after minutes, hands itching for contact with Yagyuu’s skin.

Sex was better and better; half angry hips and biting teeth, half soft fingers and whispering lips. Yagyuu absorbed Niou’s anger in bruises and strained nerves, wrestling for control as he made his own imprints on pale skin. Yagyuu worried less and less about control—he learned just how far he could push Niou and how to bring him back after he snapped.

“Stop that. Please.” Yagyuu’s eyebrows twitched as he leaned over his desk, physics homework un-finished.

“No...” Niou smirked, sprawled out on Yagyuu’s bed, tossing a tennis ball around the room once more.

“Stop being childish.”

“Fuck you.”

“Niou-kun, you’re acting like a child. And children do not use such language.”

“Fuck. You.”

The silences had begun again—stretching out as Yagyuu battled his frustrations and Niou slipped deeper into boredom. Niou began looking forward to arguments, saying certain things that made Yagyuu’s eyes twitch and his shoulders tense. Yagyuu let him, his anger flaring up just enough to let him forget the discontent.

“Would you like to come to dinner tonight?” Yagyuu spoke softly as if speaking to a wild animal. They had fought the day before over a doubles match against Yukimura and Renji and Yagyuu was determined to try. Fights lead less and less to passionate sex or apologies. Nearly a year after that first date, Yagyuu was determined to try just because he always tried, even when he didn’t care.

Niou lifted his eyes from his lunch, chopsticks hanging from lips. They’re eyes met for an instant and Niou looked away. There was silence for a moment and Yagyuu knew the answer before Niou even opened his mouth.

“No thanks.”

Yagyuu stopped trying. It ended as it had begun—slowly, quietly and Yagyuu relinquished control once again. He let Niou drift away—let himself drift, because this wasn’t tennis and he didn’t have to win.

cherprudence @ 2004-10-12T18:44:00

2004-10-13T00:08:27Z

Title: Number One
Pairing: MoriEiji/Yanagi
Rating: PG
Summary: They go to the arcade. But the fic ends before they get there =/ such a dissapointment, I know.
Copyright: Not mine. They are their own =3
Comments: This is for sarradp. Dont hurt me x.x Inspired by lelola and capt_koki and their lovely crack that is THIS.

"Oi~! Ochibi! Hurry up!"

The all too familiar (and loud) voice filled Yanagi Kotarou's little bedroom as he yanked on his favorite green shirt, rolling his eyes. Of all the things Moriyama Eiji was, he definitely wasn’t patient. And, he showed up decidedly early at Kotarou's house more times than not. He speculated that it was because MoriEiji didn’t have much of a life of his own. That, or Tuti drove him crazy during *pnish* practices.

Kotarou padded his way down the hall, stopping into the kitchen to grab an onigiri for breakfast before meeting MoriEiji. "So sorry, senpai."

MoriEiji flashed him a grin as they made their way out the door, Kotarou scooping up his beige satchel before locking the door.

"How ya feeling?" It had been several weeks since they saw each other--the party after the last Dream Live First performance and with their busy schedules; they had only talked a few times on the phone. Even though MoriEiji was staring straight ahead as they walked, Kotarou could tell he was worried.

"I'm good. Working on this and that with my manager." Kotarou's eyes returned to the street as they walked for the arcade, a smile on his lips. "You worry too much."

"Worried? Ha, hardly." There was a grin in MoriEiji's voice, and he nudged Kotarou with his arm, a gesture he realized he had missed. "Why would I worry about you? You should be worried about me."

Kotarou blinked, shoving back slightly. "What? Why?"

MoriEiji sighed dramatically, glancing away. "I'm lonely. You spend so much time with Kime-tan and Endo-kun. Did you forget about me?" Sometimes, he and Tuti seemed like a perfect pair.

Laughing, Kotarou just shook his head, shrugging innocently. "Sorry sorry. But you don’t call, either. Kime-san calls and demands I come over--You guys are all such a lonely group." His smile widened and he glanced up accusingly. "There’s only one of me, you know."

MoriEiji pouted, causing another outburst of laughter from Kotarou. He pulled off the pout a little too well. "Aren't I on the top of your list?"

"List? What list?" Kotarou blinked, head tipping to the side as they slowed to a stop. MoriEiji looked troubled, an expression so rare on his jaunty friend's face. Kotarou stepped closer, frowning slightly. "What's the matter?"

"You're on the top of my list." Before Kotarou could say anything, he was drawn up into MoriEiji's arms, tight against his shoulder. He could smell his favorite cologne--something just a little cheesy-- and he surprised himself by wrapping his arms around MoriEiji's chest.

They stood like that for some time, breathing softly, hearts beating next to each other. When MoriEiji finally pulled away, he was blushing and Kotarou had to laugh, hiding his own blush with his hands.

"I'm on the top?" Kotarou's smile was bright and his hands found their way to MoriEiji's arms, as if to stop him from scampering away.

"Number one..." And then he was in MoriEiji's arms again, lips against his brow, strong hands against his back. And for the first time in a long while, he felt like he could go no higher.

~The End

I bring you Fic! Again! (Damn you, D1!)

2004-09-01T03:39:53Z

Title: Manifest
Rating: PG13-R
Word Count: 1818
Summary: Marui and Niou try to find love together, but Niou might be searching elsewere.
Comments: HUGE HUGE HUUGE thanks go to ebbii for Beta-ing this. I owe her MUCHLY!!!! <33333333333333 (I am soo sorry about the surprise 3 paragraphs >.> *Teh lame*) and thanks to kagami_mirror and soloproject for giving me lovelove and support!!! and, of course, to Matt, for putting up wiff me. AND FOR EVERYONE ELSE. Because I couldnt do it without support. <333333

It was after they had become friends-- real friends 'spend the night at each other's houses, share Gatorade' kind of friends, that Marui realized he was in love with Niou. He would go and visit Yukimura in the hospital and, sometimes, Niou would be there. They'd sit and talk, and Marui would whisper in buchou's ear, all the while watching Niou with smoky gray eyes.

When Niou and Yagyuu played, Marui couldn't help but grip the edge of the bench. They were simply amazing. He was a better volleyer than the pair but, then again, he couldn't even touch their defense. Even his teamwork with Jackal wasn't as solid as that of Rikkai's D1. It was sort of like watching a dance-- they knew each other perfectly, anticipating and adapting to their moves around the court.

That always drew up a rush of jealousy in Marui--if Yagyuu ever said the word, Niou would be his. Niou was a slave to Yagyuu's elegant calm, just as Marui was a slave to Niou's wild arrogance. But Yagyuu never said anything, and Niou never said anything, and Marui got sick of waiting.

He started asking Niou over more often, trying to go places with him, becoming selfish with his time. Niou was popular (like all the Rikkai regulars) but like Kirihara, most preferred to talk about him rather than talk to him. Perhaps that was why he kept saying 'yes' to Marui's invites.

Their first kiss was out by the tennis courts on a weekend. They had played a few casual games before finding some shade in which to flop down upon. Marui had reached across Niou to get his bag, when a hand had stopped him and pulled him close. Niou's lips had been firm, his mouth hot and salty, and when Marui finally pulled away, Niou was chewing his bubblegum. After trying to get it back for a while, Niou swallowed the gum, his grin as sharp as his fingers across Marui's back.

Marui walked home with bruised lips and a bruised heart, for he was sure Niou had started to moan Yagyuu's name into his mouth. But their next kiss was soft and sweet, Niou's hand on his hip, and he didn't think of it again.

Niou was a good boyfriend. He'd pay for things when Marui asked and, sometimes, when he didn't. He'd let Marui play with his guitar and the tensai sometimes found, crumpled up, sappy, awkwardly beautiful lyrics to a song about pink hair and bubblegum.

Their teammates didn't seem to mind the fact they were together. Jackal was wooing Akaya and neither of them batted an eye. Renji found it "interesting", but said nothing more. Yukimura gave them soft smiles when they goofed around, while sharing glances with Sanada. Yagyuu, himself, didn't even seem to notice. He did notice, of course, but he remained cool, aloof and polite. Too polite.

That hurt Marui deep down, but, at the same time, it made him want to laugh and pull Niou close, just to show the Gentleman what he was missing. Then there were times that Niou would glance over, eyes searching Yagyuu's face for some semblance of emotion and Marui would wish he'd never been born.

Sometimes Niou would stay over and they'd sleep in each other's arms. Niou slept like a little boy, curled up with his brows furrowed. Marui would kiss away his frown, wondering if anyone else saw him like this. He selfishly hoped no one did, because even Yagyuu didn't have this little piece of the trickster.

Niou never pushed because Niou was a good boyfriend, but he would coax, tease, use his hands and deep blue eyes to get whatever he wanted from the redhead. Marui could never resist too long--the game of playing hard to get lost its charm quickly in Niou's presence.

Sometimes they went slow—-soft brushes of lips against lips, hands entwined, smoky glances through lashes and locks of hair. Sometimes they went fast—hungry kisses, bruising lips, Niou’s hand slipping into Marui’s jeans and brushing against hot flesh.

They usually went slow on dates—-Stealing kisses in movies, pressing against each other at the arcade or playing footsie at lunch.

They usually went fast on days that Niou played a hard game with Yagyuu, or on days the pair had a typical fight. Marui would find himself pulled into a side alley on the way home or pressed up against the lockers when no one else was around.

Their first time was spontaneous, up in Niou's room with his mother downstairs watching TV. Every time things got a little hot and heavy, Niou would growl against Marui's ear and ask him how far he wanted to go. Marui always stayed silent, because he so desperately wanted to go all the way but something held him back.

This time, sprawled out on Niou's bed, slim fingers in his hair and slim hips against his own, Marui didn't stay silent. Before Niou could even give Marui 'the look'--the good boyfriend look of desperate restraint, Marui pulled Niou close and whispered. "To the ends of the earth."

Sex with Niou was rough and hot and so good, Marui thought he would die each time. Niou was gentle with his hands but fierce with his teeth and sharp with his hips. Marui didn't dare pull away because he was too afraid of breaking into a million pieces. He'd push back, closer to slick skin and bite down hard on Niou's shoulder. Sex was so good, so tenderly passionate, but Marui never called it 'love making', because Niou didn't love him. He didn't mind.

Once, they spent a weekend together, leaving by train to spend two nights at the base of Mount Fuji. They had both saved up their allowance and taken part-time jobs to get a room at a traditional inn. They packed fancy Yukatas, spent the day at the lake and attended a tea ceremony the first afternoon. They both felt very grown up and immersed in peace, until Marui left wet leaves in Niou's bed. The trickster chased him all over the hotel and through the gardens, waking up customers with their laughter. Marui crashed into a sliding door (it didn't break), and Niou kissed the angry scrape on his shoulder. They made out in the closet, hands tugging at silk, with the air hot and muggy around them. No one noticed when they crept out, flushed, giddy and unable to stop touching each other.

They had an expensive dinner their last night and Niou mentioned Yagyuu while sipping his miso soup. Marui started to feel hurt, but then Niou glanced across the table and smiled--really smiled.

"This was nice," he had said and Marui had nodded with a laugh, because Niou never smiled and said things were nice.

Niou kissed him softly after dinner, toying with his hair and whispering sugary things in his ear. Marui quickly remembered how good of a boyfriend Niou could be sometimes and laughed through the whole night.

On hot days, they'd lie together on Marui's bed, Niou on his stomach, head pillowed in his arms and Marui tucked against the wall.

"I think" he said, once, while leaning over to run his lips along Niou's tan back, "You're in love with Yagyuu." Muscles tightened under Marui's touch and he fell silent.

"Why do you say that?" Niou had replied, after a moment, deceivingly quiet.

"I have a hunch" Marui murmured, rubbing his hands across Niou's shoulders and arms, pressing away the tension in his limbs.

"What if I love both of you?" Niou had whispered and Marui froze. Niou didn't use the word love. He used 'lust' and 'like' and 'tolerate' and even 'enjoy', but never love.

"Is that possible?" he had asked quietly, slipping a hand into Niou's hair. "I wont be hurt if you say no."

Then there was a hand on his wrist and Niou had rolled over, tugging Marui down close. Arms wrapped around his waist, lips pressed against his and Niou's eyes captured and held his own.

They made love for the first time, side by side and their eyes locked in a sultry staring contest. Hands caressed skin and warm breath mingled with his own as Marui struggled to keep his eyes locked onto Niou's fiery gaze. He broke first, crying out and burying his face against Niou's shoulder, hearing their pulses roar louder than Niou's almost victorious growl.

The next practice, Kirihara teased Niou about the lines down his back and the bruise on his shoulder and Marui laughed, hiding his blush behind his hands. Niou just scowled and threatened to strangle the younger boy, while Yagyuu glanced over with a small smile. Their doubles play was flawless, and Sanada had snapped at Marui for laughing so loudly.

It all ended one day after practice. D1 had been assigned extra laps when Yagyuu, oddly talkative, had pushed Niou too far and an argument started between them, before Yukimura calmly brought it to a smoldering end. Marui had stayed after to wait for Niou, wanting to walk home with him and hopefully make him feel better.

After their laps, Marui had loitered around the locker room and overheard part of their argument.

Yagyuu said something, muffled by maybe his shirt, and Niou snarled a reply.

"What do you want from me?" he snapped, his locker door slamming shut.

There was a shuffle and then a pause, before Yagyuu murmured, "For you to be happy."

Silence reigned as Niou had no clever retort.

Marui turned, eyes downcast. Niou thought selflessness meant weakness and held only disdain for it, but Yagyuu was strong and he wanted Niou to be happy. Yagyuu had offered something no one else had ever offered him so unselfishly before and because of it, Marui walked home alone for the first time in months.

Marui broke it off the next day, saving Niou the guilt. The bruise on his cheek hurt less than he had expected but the look in Niou's eyes made him wish he could forget how to see. Marui skipped practice for three days and when he came back, Niou regarded him with silence.

Marui knew it would be a long time before D1 became a true pair, because Niou needed time to heal and forget and Yagyuu was too polite to pursue Niou so soon. He offered his support and Niou clung to it, bond restored. No matter how long it took, Marui knew they'd be together eventually.

When he was feeling particularly blue, he sometimes thought about the times they had shared and, mostly, he thought of the one night when Niou had said, "What if I love both of you?" And he'd smile; thinking of how, for a short period of time, they had managed to convince each other it was true.

Fic! AHAHAHAHA--wait, its sad :(

2004-08-22T04:50:28Z

I wrote this two nights ago. Its lame and not as depresing as it should be ^^; Uhm, any suggestions would be great ^^;;; *has no confidence*

Unwanted
Rating: PG-13
Warning: ANGST, bad writing, suicidal character, unbeta’d
Summary: Marui, the lost lamb of Rikkaidai, finds himself overwhellmed

He hadn’t intended it to happen—-you never do. He hadn’t intended to end up here, cold and alone and surrounded by white. But, he had never intended for a lot of things to happen.

It all started after the regionals when Jackal announced that he was moving back to Brazil. His father had been offered a very prestigious job there, and in a few years, Jackal might have a chance to represent his country in the Olympics.

Jackal was Marui’s first love. They met in their third year, and the moment they shook hands, Marui knew. Jackal played the perfect defense to his offense right from the bat. They practiced routines, formations and special hits, and Jackal was always there to back him up. Their styles complemented each other perfectly and teamwork was never an issue. Jackal was the best.

They flirted often, finding reasons to stay close. Marui would run into him on the way out of the locker room and they’d both laugh, Marui blushing as Jackal rubbed his shaved head. And they’d share a shy smile and a grin, and Marui would come back the next day, ready to push just a little more. The perfect offensive strike. But Jackal always hesitated, closed himself off, defended his core. And so, Marui practiced trick shots on the court and into Jackal’s heart.

On the day of Jackal’s flight, he pulled Marui into a tight embrace. They stood for minutes and Marui thought he’d cry, embarrassing the both of them. And then Jackal’s lips brushed against his forehead, and he was gone, striding down the street toward his home. And Marui did cry, softly until he heard footsteps around him that stopped his heart from bleeding.

After Jackal left, Niou and Yagyuu took their relationship one step further. Marui developed a hunch one day in the locker room, when Yagyuu calmly handed a bundle of clothing over to Niou. Niou was wearing Yagyuu’s shirt and pants that he had obviously worn the day before. They shared a glance that spoke volumes, and Marui wanted to cry again.

Yagyuu was his second love. Polite, intelligent and beautiful, Marui wanted to be the one to crack that cool exterior. He wanted to hear Yagyuu’s real laugh, he wanted to be held in those strong arms and he wanted to wear those glasses when they woke up together.

Niou was everything Marui wanted to be—-flashy, confident, carefree and utterly amazing. He lived by his rules alone, “no regrets” being his motto. The trickster never looked back, never cared and yet, managed to care so much about everyone that he was the darling of the third years. Marui would think of him as he looked back at his life, and wonder how he did it, how he shrugged off everything so flawlessly. Then he’d realize that Niou could do it, because Niou was Niou. And Marui was in no way close to being Niou.

Later, Marui walked in on them kissing—Niou pressed against the lockers, Yagyuu’s hands on his hips, wily fingers in bronze hair. Marui ran from the room with a gasp of shock, throwing up in the bathroom. His idol had taken Yagyuu from him, because Marui just wasn’t good enough. Marui was never good enough. Everyone saw him run for the bathroom, and everyone saw him walk out. He couldn’t look at Niou’s angry face and Yagyuu’s frown, because they didn’t understand. He ran home and didn’t eat dinner.

He received a lecture the next day from Yukimura about ‘tolerance’ and ‘respect’ and he knew that under that mask, Yukimura was afraid and disgusted by Marui’s reaction, because the connection between Sanada and their captain was too strong to be missed.

So Marui apologized to Yukimura, apologized to Yagyuu and Niou and apologized to Sanada. The Vice Captain just nodded coldly, and ordered him to run 50 laps. Marui wished he’d been hit instead.

Akaya became increasingly cruel towards him, because Marui was losing his spot as the playful one in the group, as well as his spot on the regulars. Someone suggested that the two play doubles to keep Marui on the regulars, but Akaya had complained to Renji, batting his eyes and pouting with his lips. And so Marui’s regular status was put under ‘review’ as they looked for his new doubles partner. But no one could play defense like Jackal, and Marui just didn’t have the time or will to conquer singles. So he was dropped—-Sanada delivering the news coldly, still having never forgiven him.

He left his jacket in the locker room and, try as he might, he couldn’t help but look back as he walked away. He wouldn’t be playing at the Nationals with his former teammates—-now, his former friends.

He fainted after three days of not eating—-just collapsed in the middle of homeroom. Some teased him, some worried as the teacher led him to the nurse’s, but no one asked why.

After fainting again in the hallway two days later, he was sent home. None of his former teammates shared any of his classes. So when he received a phone call from Sanada, coolly explaining he’d be dropped from the team entirely if he didn’t show up for practice, Marui wanted to yell and scream, pointing out everything that had gone wrong, starting when Sanada lost the match to a pip squeak Freshman.

But he didn’t. He didn’t have the energy to argue. So he just apologized, and fell asleep in the couch without hanging up, a half eaten bagel on the table. His brothers ate it later and Marui-san was able to worry a bit less.

Marui was late to practice the next day, having had a hard time walking in the mid-day heat. The locker room was deserted and he stared at his old shelf for minutes before remembering that he wasn’t a regular anymore. Looking out the window, he saw everyone out on the courts, having a good time. Even Sanada looked relaxed, laughing as they all gathered around Yukimura, leaving no hole where he should have been. He had forgotten it was Sanada’s birthday.

He walked into the white bathroom and pulled out his pocketknife. He didn’t really think about it, because he’d heard of it like all the other kids had. It was just something that crazy people did, not regular students. He instead thought about how happy they looked without him, how far away Jackal was and how his mother’s eyes had glistened with disappointment when he had walked from the dinner table, having barely touched his plate.

Marui thought about a lot of things, but he didn’t think about what he was doing until a thick red line ran down his wrist.

He dropped the knife, gasping loudly, because oh, it hurt. So. Much. His stomach turned, and he could taste acid in the back of his throat, because just look at what he had done. He wanted to scream—-to scream and call someone for help, anyone, because it hurt so bad and he was so scared. But there was no one there. He was utterly alone.

So he clutched his bleeding wrist, shirt turning a sickly brown. And he curled up, crying—loud sobs against the tile wall, because it wouldn’t stop.

Marui woke up in the hospital, so weak and sick, he could barely move. He first thought his arm has been chopped off, because he couldn’t feel it. But he then realized it was numb from pain. The doctors told him Kirihara Akaya had found him, and he didn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

He did cry when his parents came in, eyes stricken with grief. They looked so sad that Marui wondered if he had maybe really died, and he was watching them mourn his dead body.

They didn’t tell his little brothers, which made him sort of glad. But he wanted to see them, because they’d laugh at him like they always did and he’d laugh back. He didn’t think he’d ever laugh again. But then his parents were gone, because he ‘needed his rest’ and he was alone, awake and sad deep down to his core. He had never wanted to go this route—-it just happened like that. The wave had just risen up higher than he could fight against and it had crashed into crimson, leaving him here, surrounded by white.

He fell asleep and didn’t dream, and when he woke up, he missed those dreams, like his life, which seemed so very far away. He supposed this was what people meant by shattered dreams.

Then the door was open and the nurse said “Your friends are here.” And Marui almost thought she was joking, because he had no friends.

But then familiar faces with unfamiliar expressions filled his vision. Yukimura, looking pained and unhappy to be back at a hospital so soon. Sanada, standing by his elbow, looking filled with remorse as he used Yukimura as his support. Renji’s eyes were filled with compassion, because he understood what Marui was going through, more than anyone else would know. Akaya looked nervous and pale, hands shaking has he peered out from behind Renji, as if he expected Marui to still be covered in blood. Yagyuu looked weak and Niou looked strong and they both looked so very sad, standing so close to each other, but somehow worlds apart.

No one knew what to say as they gathered around Marui’s bed, his gray eyes glossy and confused.

“Jackal called...” Yukimura started softly. “He’ll be on a plane by now..”

Marui could only nod, wanting to cry so badly, because they had forgiven him. He opened his mouth to thank them, because he had been so weak and cruel, but then Sanada bowed his head.

“Please forgive us, Marui-kun. All of us.” They all looked guilty, so strange and abashed that he started to laugh, until Yukimura’s arms were suddenly around him. Then he cried, silently, nodding once. He could forgive them, because, really, they were all his first loves.

cherprudence @ 2004-08-20T02:55:00

2004-08-20T03:15:18Z

just left princeacademy. *Insanely depressed*

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HERE IS FIC FOR bikun!!!! ITS WEIRD!!!!

Title: Apply the Appropriate Pressure
For: bikun!
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Rating: PG-13?
Summary: Sirius pushes and it hurts~
Warnings: unbeta’d, ~~hot steamy pr0n~~, randomness
Comments: 2 months late, what? Just pretend.. yes, this all happened soon after you requested it. You just forgot, and I (Being so nice) have reposted it! Yes... fuu~

“Oww.. ah, Sirius…”

“Shh… It’s okay…”

“Ah…but…Ah!”

“We’re going to get caught if you don’t be quiet..”

“But it hurts~!”

“I know.. just hold on… a little longer.”

“Ah… Sirius… it…”

“Just a little longer.. almost there…almost…”

“Ow…”

With a little sob, Remus buried his face in a pillow. It was over, finally. After a half hour of torture, he could relax. In the back of his mind, he tallied up how much Sirius owed him. He didn’t think he could count up to that much.

Wiping Remus’ skin clean, Sirius flopped next to him with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry… but you can do me next.”

The sandy haired boy scowled. “I don’t want to. Unlike some people, I don’t like hurting other people, Sirius.”

“But, it’s an expression of our love!” Sirius cooed, running his fingers through soft hair.

“Oh no—don’t start. That’s what got me into this whole mess. I don’t think I can even walk! How am I supposed to go to class?”

“It’s not that bad…” Sirius pouted, running his fingers gingerly over Remus’ hip.

“Ouch! Just wait until you try,” came the reply.

Sirius sighed softly and looked down at his grumpy boyfriend. Remus had been resistant at first, but Sirius hated the feeling that he had forced him into anything. Hadn’t the agreed, in the end? He had really, really wanted it. It brought them closer together, and he felt like there wasn’t anything left between them. Now the whole world would know how much they loved each other. Besides, all the cool kids were doing it.

“I’m sorry…” he said softly, and he really meant it.

“Yeah… It’s alright.” Remus murmured, rolling slightly with a smile. “It wasn’t too bad. But now it’s your turn.”

With a heavy sigh, Sirius yanked down his pants and sprawled out on his stomach.

“Be careful, okay…?” Remus nodded, picking up the proper tools before getting into a good position.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Forty-five minutes later (Remus’ hands were shaking), Sirius had the word “Moony” tattooed on his hip, matching the “Padfoot” that lay on Remus’ skin.

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