PLAY GLORIA!!!

Read Below cut or on A03

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

"Well, this a fine mess you've gotten us into."

Killer groaned, head pounding as the world slowly came back into focus. Kidd's bitching was like a nail repeatedly being hammered into his skull. Killer made to shove him away only to stop short when his arm refused to move. "wha...?"

Kidd stopped his squirming, listening quietly, "Kil? Are you back?"

Killer blinked rabidly but his vision remained hazy.

"Killer?"

"Kidd? Whazzit gon' on? Why can'i move?"

He could at least feel Kidd moving behind him now, the boy's voice gentle in way that made Killer nervous. "We got ambushed, remember? Breaking in to the warehouses on the west side? I think you took a bat to the head..."

Killer did not remember any of that, but he trusted Kidd wouldn't bullshit him on something like this. There was a weight against the back of his head, the rough band of Kidd's goggles catching his hair as Kidd leaned back against him for a moment with a sigh.

"It's not an ambush if you break into our place." a voice drawled, and Kidd twisted around to try and see who was talking. Killer's head fell back against his shoulder once Kidd's head wasn't there to support it, and Kidd glared at the man strolling out of the shadows, a little pathetic entourage flanking him.

The small time gang boss lorded over them, looking less pleased at having captured the two of them and more just annoyed that his day had been interrupted by a couple snot nose punk kids. He grabbed a fist full of Killer's hair and jerked the teen upright, but looked to Kidd when the younger boy snarled at him for his audacity in touching his partner.

That made the man laugh, sneering down at the red head as he let go of Killer's head roughly, chucking darkly as the sounds of their skulls bouncing off each other thudded dimly in the damp warehouse air. Killer blinked the stars from the corners of his vision as Kidd started yelling and cursing the man in outrage.

Killer then became aware of Kidd's small hands pressing into his palms, and he held them back only to notice the rough ends of rope being passed to him ... the ends of the rope that had been used on his own wrists. Killer tested the restraints; sure enough they'd only just been tied down once at the wrists.

Amateurs. It was almost embarrassing to have been captured like so, but at least Kidd had seen to that. Now Killer just bid his time.

His head was still swimming, the voices sounding more like what he figured bagpipes must sound like underwater, but he recognized Kidd's voice, antagonistic as always. Killer couldn't help but smirk. One of Kidd's best qualities, he mussed. The ability to annoy anyone stupid given enough time.

The dark outline of this little group's head boss got larger, moving to tower over them once more. Killer hung his head, letting himself go lax and unassuming, the unknotted rope sliding away. He pressed his hand one last time to Kidd's for good luck.

And then he was lurching forward, fists flying, launching himself at the man. There was yelling, and the man had Killer's fists in his own, grinning like he thought he'd won something. Killer only grinned back, feral look to him that wiped the man's grin away in a flash as the man realized he may have made a mistake.

Then Killer went for the jugular. Literally; teeth clamping around the man's unguarded throat. The man was screaming, his minions were screaming, Kidd was free and using his chair as a club to keep them off Killer's back.

Killer was snarling around a mouthful of blood, every attempt to dislodge him just doing more damage. The gang boss finally let go of his left hand, punching wildly at Killer's side and head, grasping at his hair again. Killer breathed heavily though his nose, refusing to stop biting and begun hitting back with short jabs aiming for the kidneys.

Behind him, Kidd eyed the last few stragglers warily as they stuck well out of his swinging range. He wasn't willing to turn his back on them just yet, no matter how much he wanted to check on Killer. The little gang boss had stopped screaming, but they was still the sounds of grappling behind him. And then there was a heavy wet thump of a body falling.

"Killer?"

The teen staggered over to stand next to him, panting wetly. Kidd glanced over to see Killer drenched in blood, wiping it haphazardly from his mouth. The red was splattered across his cheeks, his arms, running down his throat and his shirt. Dripping from his bangs and chin.

With a grin, Kidd turned back to the lackeys who were looking between the two boys and weighing their options. Kidd was almost sad to see them turn tail and flee. He tossed the chair aside with a clattering echoing thunk, looking sheepishly back at Killer when the noise had him wincing.

"How's your head?" Kidd asked, picking at the wet frayed edges of Killer's shirt. It was probably ruined now. Kidd wasn't sure they'd be getting all that blood out. Though, it was pretty gnarly looking - maybe they should keep it just for that. Killer did look great in red, Kidd thought idly as the teen answered his question with a shrug.

Chapters: 2/3 Fandom:Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett,Good Omens (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Original Angel Character(s), Canon characters mentioned in passing

Additional Tags: No beta we fall like Crowley, Missing Persons, Black Plague, Summoning Circles, Demon Summoning, Demon Traps, Imprisonment, Hell on Earth, Too much paperwork, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Series, hurt!Aziraphale, Isolation, Trapped, Crowley saves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Hurt, Broken Bones, Wing Injury, Crowley Whump, true form injuries, Abandonment

Summary:

We know Crowley did not care at all for the 14th century. There where a few reasons why, but the big one being that his angel was misplaced for most of it, and nobody seemed to even notice.

Filing drawer + carry case of in progress; nearly all just waiting for the spine cover. the beautiful leather I got is a taaaaaad too thick so now its waiting for more tools to arrive XD

9. Loyalty

Kidd - 15 | Killer -19 (only talked about - not actually present for this one)

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Kidd's named himself Boss of the Heaps

Teenagers in danger

Kidd gets himself shot

future crew cameos

Names

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Somehow in the last year - Kidd's gotten himself an entourage.

A half dozen were older kids that he and Killer had kicked the asses of at some point over the years. There was the not!sisters that went everywhere together, and Kidd welcomed them with a heavy heart, feeling his own former partner's betrayal even time he saw the duo. Wasn't their fault though, and Kidd was getting better about not holding that against people as of late. Throw in a handful who were just sycophants that he'd fallen in with, and then one or two city folks that ran out of luck and had headed to the Heaps to hide.

They'd been under the impression the Heaps where no man's land - they didn't know the it was Kidd's now. He'd nearly turned them away, sent them back to the city, but they'd prostrated before him and he'd never seen anyone do that before. Curiously had kept them around, nothing more.

And then Boogie had brought him another outsider, a large monster of a woman that had nothing but disdain for Kidd and clearly wanted to be anywhere but the Heaps. She had, like the others from the city, had run afoul of one of the bosses. Unlike the others, she knew immediately who he was.

"Solider Boy talks about you."

Kidd froze in place, his people turning to look at him curiosity. "Sorry," Kidd decides finally, "Don't know any solider boys."

She shrugs.

"What did you think the name drop was going to get you?"

"One more night still breathing."

"Hmm... Fine. Granted."

***

Being a teen and the boss did mean people thought he was an easy target. Unfortunately, sometimes it was people he'd given a second chance to. There weren't a lot of guns on Kutsukku - smuggling weapons past the Marines out in open waters carried too high of a risk, and few on Kutsukku had the funds for the payment demanded for them.

But just because there were not a lot of something did not mean none were on the island. Kidd just learned the hard way what a bullet felt like, hot and sharp in his side. It had completely blindsided him, not even an option in his mind, and he had stood there dumbly as his brain attempted a reboot.

A second shot never came - not because Kidd or any of his crew reacted, but instead the woman, the one from the gang Killer ran with now, stood over his crumpling assailant, rusting pipe in hand. She looked about as shocked as he did, stepping back uneasy as he was rushed by his own people.

The bullet responded to his -pull- gracefully at least, and he held the small ball of metal in his palm as someone else saw to the blood pouring out of his gut. It -sang- harmlessly in his hand now, the treacherous little thing, and Kidd -rolled- it over and over, committing its weight and song to memory so as to not ever fall victim to it or its kind again.

His man named only Sunglasses watched the little bullet -dance- in his hand uneasily, before Kidd closed his fist around it, face daring the other to make a comment.

None came.

***

"What was your name again?"

She shrugged, rubbing at the bracelets on her thick wrist. Kidd could understand that.

"Why'd you save me?"

"I told you, Solider Boy talks about you."

"You mean Killer, don't you?"

"Boss Athair doesn't think he's earn a name like that yet, took it away."

"Fuck him." Kidd growled. She smirked. "How.... how is he?"

She looked contemplative, "Quiet. He follows order, doesn't complain, and personally, I think he's damn proven himself. Ceannard, Boss Athair's second, has taken a shine to him, thinks he's got promise. Honestly, I think more of us like the two of them than Boss Athair these days."

Kidd picked at his bandages. "That's why you're here. Because you picked Killer over your boss."

"Solider Boy convinced me to leave before I ended up.. well," she gestured to the man whose skull she'd bashed in, "not unlike him."

Kidd looked at the corpse.

"He had a gun."

She nodded. "City Boss - one of the big ones. He's got god money, and delusions of grandeur. Buys up all kinda of shit, all kinds of people. Kinda man you don't tell no too."

Kidd scowled. "Well, fuck him too. That trick won't work a second time."

"Hope not." She said, so quiet Kidd almost missed it.

"Well..." he hedged, "at least while your own boss has a stick up his ass, as long as you don't mind the smell and the toxic waste, you're welcome to run with us."

ⓘ A sewing machine is a device that provides a several-fold increase of the speed at which you can make mistakes

31. Just our hands clasped so tight (M) (1/1) by @mekachu04

Just the love in this fic. So much love. It’s beautiful and sweet and sexy and I will not stop shouting about it.  Plus such sensual art by @wargoddess9​

ONE PIECE PEEPS.

In your opinion, is the pirate Dive, a member of the Kid Pirates captained by Eustass Kid, just a small statured woman or an actual child?

I don't so much care what you think canon says she is but what *you* personally think.

28. Kimono

Kidd - 22 | Killer - 26

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Kidd injury recover from loosing his arm

Killer's not doing much better mentally

bathing again

with hair washing role reversal

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

-thank you wife for telling me kimono (きもの/着物) literally just means 'thing to wear' and helping me get unstuck with suggesting coat redux.

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He's starting to remember more and more of each day, the haze of pain and drugs slowly lifting as his body heals. What was once just vague feelings are starting to be actual lucid moments, a few minutes at a time.

<><><>

Killer's there at his side every time he comes around; even if he can't remember, he knows it's true.

Killer's on the chair facing him today, feet propped up on the nightstand, but careful not to disturb the bottles of meds or the canteen of water. He's fiddling with something in his lap, but Kidd's not sure he has the facilities to figure out what.

<><><>

When he drifts back again, he practically begs Killer to let him up; he's exhausted, he's hurting, but he also has to pee and he would like to take a piss like an adult for once.

Halfway there, and Kidd knows they aren't going to make it if Killer walks him there - and Kidd relents and lets himself be carried if only for the fact it means he won't piss on himself in the hallway.

He'd hate all of this more if he had the energy to even make it back to bed before he's passing out again.

<><><>

He wants to eat with the crew.

He wants to see his crew.

Heat & Wire keep assuring him everyone if fine, but they're too quick to placate and refuse anything more. Killer won't even entertain his questions, and Kidd nearly cries when he finally has the awareness to notice that Killer's hair is almost completely gone, shorn just past the helmet.

He can't bring himself to ask, and Killer offers nothing back.

Kidd needs to see his crew.

<><><>

Finally Killer relents, but he has his own stipulations. The big one being Kidd needs to look presentable if he's doing this.

Kidd - who is tired of sponge baths and fever sweat sheets - allows him to be man handed into the bathroom again, this time letting Killer pamper him in the warm tub. He's too tired and heavy to appreciate it fully, but soaking in the warm water already has him feeling more like a person again, and he lets Killer scrub him down, wash his hair, tend to his still healing wounds.

Kidd see them for the first time, then. He'd been aware his left arm was gone, but it didn't sink in until he sat in the water, bandages off, healing stitched skin on display. It's not just his shoulder, but his reflection in the water, his neck and chest, his gut. His right arm bears more marks from where he tried to defend himself and if he crosses his forearm across his chest he can see the long injury drawn out across his entire body, from forehead to groin.

No wonder Killer's been so quiet. Gormaichean. He owns his partner big for this - the fright he must have caused the man.

Its a wake up call, as he watches Killer mother him in the water's reflection, combing his hair like the invalid he is. He can't even bring himself to bitch about it, instead just letting the continuous motion and the still water lull him into a doze, until the bath starts to cool and he's all prunie and wrinkled.

Then Killer's hauling him up and toweling him down, and Kidd says nothing about the zen-like focus his partner pays him, afraid to break whatever peace Killer has found in the actions. The absolute concentration Killer directs at him once he is clean and dry, and Killer starts to work the ointment into his stitches before wrapping them once again.

The stitches still pull at his left eye a bit, and it feels like Kidd is just endlessly crying. He's almost relieved when Killer wraps his face back up, the tears hidden in the gauze.

Killer gives him a moment to compose himself as he slips Kidd's legs into his pants, starts dressing him slowly and reverently. Slides his boots on for him and laces them like they're something precious.

The shirt Killer pulls out to dress him in is unfamiliar. Unlike Killer, who liked to hide behind long sleeves and higher collars, Kidd's ruined too many shirts with his devil fruit, the small sharp edges that came hand in hand with weapons and scraps tearing the sleeves to shreds after a single fight. But he doesn't have the range of motion right now to be pulling a tang top on and off. Kidd is too broad chested for it to be one of Killer's, the solid dark colour not in his partner's usual tastes either. It's short sleeved and very low necked, and it's a button up that Kidd realized was Wire's as Killer slide it up his right arm. It's a snug fit around his bicep but it's not unwelcome, and the hem stops just short of the thickest part of the wrapping on his left arm as Killer carefully works it over the healing stump.

While his face heals, Kidd's not surprised Killer doesn't offer him his googles, but at least the bandages have the side effect of covering his forehead and keeping his hair pushed back out of his eyes.

<><><>

He hadn't realized he'd drifted off again until he he wakes up to the feeling of anxiety. Not his own, but his partner's.

Killer's staring at their makeup bag on the bathroom counter - foundation in hand; It's going to rub off on the bandages all over Kidd's face. Kidd decides for him, pulling the bag closer and picking out the black eyeliner pen and his favorite shade of red eye-shadow. "You can at least fix up my good eye, yeah?"

It's the first thing either if them have spoken since entering the bath

Killer patiently paints his face back on, Kidd watching him intently, trying to get a read on him though the mask.

It's not usually this hard, but Kidd knows things have changed again.

Kidd lost.

It's been a very long time since that's happen. He'd forgotten the feeling.

He drops his jaw gently, parting his lips as Killer pulls out his favorite lipstick, Killer's thumb pressing against his chin. Kidd can see Killer's eyes this close, his attention completely on his task.

His hand is next, Killer matching the nail polish to Kidd's lipstick; Kidd realizing with a pang that it maybe a long time, if ever, before he's able to do things like this for himself now.

Its intolerable: this weakness. It is inexcusable, especially from a Captain. Kidd can not loose again. He wont stand for it and neither should his crew.

Killer inspects Kidd's appearance, seeming hyper aware of the way every hair falls, and even with out gelling it up, spends a few moments carefully arranging the drying locks.

Kidd's hates every moment of it, hates that Killer is still so shaken that he's stressing about how Kidd's hair is styled.

"You died." Heat will tell him later, just the two of them as Wire takes watch and Killer finally, FINALLY falls asleep. "And Boss Killer was more than willing to follow you. I thought he was going to turn on us when we tried to stop him."

Hates that he was too weak to protect Killer from himself.

Satisfied, Killer steps back to look him over, a Captain's Return. Kidd understands why Killer believes they need this, the crew need to see Kidd as someone strong, even if Kidd doesn't feel that himself at the moment.

But Killer has one last touch, pulling a heavy weight across Kidd's shoulders. Physically, physically, it's not too much - Kidd thought his coat destroyed and gone, but Killer appears to have salvaged the red fur lining and it's been reworked into a presentable coat once again. it's also nearly a third of the weight of the original one, and his left arm can shoulder the weight with little strain. The weight on his heart, however is crushing.

Killer carefully balances it over his shoulder's draping it back like a King's cloak.

Kidd will earn that weight back. He won't fail them again.

June 2020. Black Lives Matter. 

With everything going on in the world right now, i’m not sure ‘Happy Pride’ is the right feeling at the moment. Be safe out there my friends. I love you all. You are valid. You matter. 

Size 32 canvas, final size 3.5 x 2.5 inches

the pattern can be found for free on stitch fiddle or google drive

While the original design is not mine the pattern is. The pattern has been tweaked a little from the above, just so you know when making. Things that look okay digitally don’t always look right once they are made so i made some colour adjustments and changed some line placements

16. HighSchool

Kidd - 14 | Killer - 18

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Puberty found Kidd

meaning inconvenient erections

and some possible pining but he's not ready to explore that

additionally, note the ages,

and that they are still sharing a bed

Killer's working for one of the island's bigger bosses

Kidd is really smart

even if he's essentially illiterate

Killer's using his mob connection to get Kidd textbooks

... and to better their lives in other ways

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

It's impossible to ignore that things are changing between the two of them. Life is change, but Kidd didn't remember a time not living in Killer's pockets and now he's got more him time then he knows what to do with. Where Killer used to be, Kidd is either alone or bullying the other Heaps punks that think he's easy pickings since he's solo. They don't make that mistake twice, and Kidd has to admit, the occasional throw down is exhilarating. He might start pulling his punches and hoping someone will come back for a round two.

Admittingly, Killer used to ditch him often enough to go hook up with Victoria, sneaking back in at the eleventh hour and Kidd would roll his eyes and pretend he hadn't been sitting up waiting for him to come crawling into bed. When she'd kicked the both of them to the curb last year, Kidd thought that would the end of that. Except Killer still was disappearing on him during the day now.

Killer'd been an early riser their whole lives, so Kidd was used to waking up alone. The older boy - man now, Kidd supposed - wasn't a deep sleeper to start with and had always had trouble sleeping past sunrise. But he rarely went far before Kidd was also up for the day. Lately, the moment Kidd picked his head off the pillow, Killer was heading out.

He'd maybe see him for lunch, but unless Kidd asked him in advance to stick around, Killer was a ghost until evening.

Which was whatever. Kidd didn't care. Hell - it was maybe a little nice in the morning, ever since Kidd had come to the mortifying revelation that the only time he didn't wake up rock hard these days was because he'd creamed his pants at some point in his sleep. Which could have been awkward as hell considering that most places they squatted were too small or too drafty to sleep in any configuration other then curled up together, including the dingy shack they were holed up in now.

Still lazying in their little shared 'bed' now - a broken singles' mattress filled with paper trash - Kidd had to think very hard about not imagining what it was like to sleep next to Killer every night, to imagine Killer still in bed with him in the morning. With a whine, he drug his fingers down his face, pulling his head out of those thoughts, and forced himself up and to his feet. He either needed to deal with this or clear his head, and then get on with his morning.

Killer had left him a filled canteen of clean water, a couple hard boiled eggs, fresh baked bread and a new book.

Another part of their new normal; breakfast and a gift. Killer had fell in good favour with one of the bosses back when they still ran with Victoria, and without her taking up his free time, Killer had been taking on more errands for the gangs. Kidd wasn't real sure how he felt about all that yet. He was vaguely aware Killer had been involved with the gangs before they'd become a duo, but an island wide coup d'etat left him on the loosing side. He'd been pretty paranoid about the bosses since then, but Victoria had to go and change his mind about them all not being vicious warmongers. Boss Athair didn't ask for Killer's loyalty and paid more coin for a single errand then the both of them usually scrapped together in a fortnight.

Enough for three fresh meals a day. Enough to pay someone to actually wash their clothes instead of rinsing them in seawater and beating them on the rocks until they were 'clean' or fell apart. Every one of Killer's safe-caches had a full coin purse, and now even Kidd's did too. 

If it kept up, they might even be able to rent a real room next winter, in a real building.

With blankets or even a fireplace.

An actual bed, without bugs and weird smelling mold spots.

A bookshelf for the text books Killer kept finding somewhere.

School books belonging to some Cailean MacCeannard according to the front end page. Killer had several of the guys books by this point, a few clearly ancient primers, but then some more advanced stuff that was way more interesting, like one on that claimed to be the 7th edition of Heat and Thermodynamics, or the Fundamentals of the Theory of Electricity. Granted, Kidd only probably understood a quarter of what the books were talking about, Killer reading out large passages to him some nights since Kidd's reading skills were pretty lacking. Killer didn't understand most of what he said, but Kidd urged him on regardless, Killer's steady voice bringing the author's ideas to life for Kidd.

Today's book was Nonlinear Magnetohydrodynamics and Kidd had not the foggiest what that was suppose to mean, but he flipped through it, studying the diagrams with little context, but still fascinated as he munched on one of the eggs. This one lacked Cailean's name, but did have a some Marine Base Library Stamp on it and it filled him with glee to read the "Library Copy. Do not Remove from Premises" embossed on the title page.

"Mine now," he cackled to himself.