nimthecat

[nimthecat]

*Griffin McElroy voice* Too many children, too many boys. Too many beautiful boys.

*comes in, throws Untamed study dump at you and leaves*

[nimthecat]

Joe, running into the kitchen- Nicky! You need to come see the news!

Nicky- Did something happen?

Joe, pushing him in front of the TV right after they had finished with the weather- Just watch!

News anchor- And now, we have a congregations for Nicky and Joe, who are celebrating their... oh, I think this is a mistake, my lines here say celebrating their 900th anniversary. No corrections? Alright then, I guess, congratulations to Nicky and Joe on a happy 900 years

Nicky- Joe, did you...

Nile- I'm already texting Copley to have the tape destroyed

[nimthecat]

hmm how about kaysanova + date night gone wrong?

Gabby! It took me ages to write it and it's probably not good, but I hope you enjoy. 💘

Yusuf takes a deep breath, cursing himself in his mind in all the languages he knows. This is absolutely awful. Awful. No, it's a tragedy. And he needs to find a solution as fast as he can, before- 

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the front door opening, the sound is followed by Nicolò's voice calling his name.

"Kitchen," he shouts back, hoping he's not sounding too desperate (which he totally is).

Nicolò hugs him from behind, resting his chin on Yusuf's shoulder. "Whatever you made smells delicious," he kisses his husband’s neck and Yusuf's entire body shivers; a millenia will never be enough. Whatever amount of time they have will never be enough.

Nicolò turns him around, bringing their lips together, a breathtaking kiss that Yusuf doesn't want to end; he waits for the next move, Nicolò's hand pulling his hair and that normally leads to sex before dinner, but today the whine that comes out of his mouth is not from pleasure and Nicolò knows, so he stops immediately. 

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing. We're in Malta alone and about to have a proper date in a while, so absolutely nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect."

Yusuf doesn't remember what happened, he just knows that now he's on the bed, staring at Nicolò's concerned eyes. Nicolò squeezes his hand.

"You blacked out. A lot of blood loss from the cut on your arm. I did my best. Um, you're not healing."

It's a statement. Nicolò's voice is not different. He's acting normal, maybe it will take a while for him to wrap his head around it.

"No," he swallows, slowly sitting up. "That's why I wanted a perfect date, to tell you, but I ruined it by getting hurt and- I'm sorry, Nicolò."

"Should be. Should have told me the minute I stepped inside."

Yusuf can't control his tears, they wanted a lifetime together and now he's going to leave Nicolò alone. Not immediately, but still- if it was the other way around he wouldn’t know how to survive without Nicolò. 

"When I go, there's Nile and Booker and-"

"When you go, I'll be going too, my heart. I also wanted this to be the perfect date so I could tell you that I'm no longer healing."

"WHAT? How long- for how-" 

Yusuf is shut when Nicolò kisses him. 

"Does it matter? We're going to leave together," Nicolò rests their foreheads together. "Like we promised. A lifetime."

Yusuf chuckles. "But wow, talk about a date night gone wrong."

"Still not over. We can still have dinner and cuddle by the fire. No date will ever go wrong as long as we're together."

Forever was never a wish, it was always a promise.

[nimthecat]

Someone please make a video for Nicky from the old guard with the song Gay or European

[nimthecat]

I lied. I don’t actually like sex. Put your clothes back on I’m going to explain the entire plot of the Silmarillion to you.

[nimthecat]

would you like to see the best video on tiktok? i present… a fancy flock

[nimthecat]

Ho, ho,ho, motherfucker via /r/MadeMeSmile

Click here and follow to get more daily positivity on your dash!

[nimthecat]

this is saved on my desktop with the title ‘Every D&D Campaign Ever’

[nimthecat]

Prince Yusuf x Prince Nicolo AU

[nimthecat]

nile: i sleep with a gun under my pillow.

booker: i have several knives next to my bed.

andy: oh yeah? my axe is never more than 3 feet from me.

joe: you all are pathetic.

andy: oh yeah? what do you sleep with?

joe: nicky.

[nimthecat]

Yusuf & Nicolò

[nimthecat]

Fellow warriors to Yusuf while watching Nicolo fight: do you think you can take him ?

Yusuf: yes.

Yusuf:

Yusuf: .........Oh you mean in a fight

[nimthecat]

immortal found family as text posts (2/?)

[nimthecat]

Cover art for Sussurro's JoeNicky Dojin Anthology

[nimthecat]

Bad guy: We have your immortal.

Copley: Which one?

Bad guy: What?

Copley: If it’s Nile, tell her she has to be home by 10. If it’s Joe, tell him Nicky called and left a message. If it’s Booker, tell him he has to sleep more than 2 hours tonight. And if it’s Andy... God help you.

[nimthecat]

Booker: Nicky, you need a hobby.

Nicky: I already have a hobby!

Booker: Cuddling with Joe is not a hobby.

Nicky *who’s wrapped around in Joe's arms*: It’s not?

[nimthecat]

Joe yawns, jaw-cracking and eye-wateringly wide into his elbow as he wanders down blinding bright aisles. He’s not even sure what he’s looking for, not at this time of night, but it’s better than staring at the walls in his temporary flat. Some new kind of tea, maybe. Or maybe a book, from the sparse collection of new releases clustered protectively together between the glossy magazines and wilting, already out of date newspapers.

He yawns again as he rounds the corner, eyes closing with the force of it. It annoys him even as it happens, he knows the second he lies down he’ll be wide awake, but here he is, yawning his head clean off in public. It’s embarrassing.

Case in point, in his bare seconds of blindness, Joe walks headfirst into someone with a discordant clatter of dropped groceries.

‘Scusami,’ says a rough voice, as Joe blinks through the new blindness where the stranger’s head met his nose. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Fine,’ gasps Joe, rubbing at his eyes. The pain’s already receded, no harm done, but it takes him a moment.

When he can see again, he thinks for a wild and vertiginous moment, that he’s dreaming.

For three hundred years, Joe has seen those eyes every time he closes his own. Seeing them again, now, under hideous supermarket fluorescent lights in a backwater Belgian suburb? Impossible.

Until.

‘Yusuf?’

Joe knows that voice, knows that face; has thought of that face every day for centuries and now it’s here, creased with shock and pain and confusion, and fuck if he doesn’t know what to do. It’s impossible. Inconceivable.

And yet.

‘Nicolò?’

It is him. It is. It’s Nicolò, looking exactly as he had when Joe had walked away from him in Turin all those years ago, taking only a miniature of his eyes and the knowledge that he had met and lost the great love of his life with him.

His hair is shorter now, he no longer has his scruffy beard, but that beauty mark by his lips, the elegant curve of his nose, those eyes—Joe knows no other face so well as he knows Nicolò’s, he’s drawn nothing in his excessively long life as much as he has the curve of Nicolò’s cheek.

(Although he sees now where his memory was failing him, the tiny folds of skin where Joe had imagined him developing wrinkles; the dark shades of his hair Joe had been picturing turning salt-flecked with age and venerability.)

‘I would give all the stars,’ says Nicolò, wonderingly, staring at Joe with eyes so wide they seem to glow. ‘For one day more in your presence. I would drain the sea, to share a second more with you.’

A bell rings, somewhere in the dark of Joe’s memory. He wrote those words, pressed them into Nicolò’s hand while he slept, the morning he slipped away. Curled his fingers over them and sealed them with a kiss before he fled like a coward into the night.

‘I always wondered,’ continues Nicolò, reaching out with a shaking hand to touch the bulge of Joe’s locket beneath his shirt, the pale imitation of the vibrant colours that have somehow spilled back into Joe’s life. ‘Why you would say such things to me, when you could have spent your whole life with me, if you had wanted to.’

Joe reaches up, feeling like the world has somehow started to turn backwards beneath his feet. Nicolò’s skin feels just the same under his fingers, soft and warm, the same scar at the base of his thumb. He knows this hand.

‘But you could not have, could you?’ asks Nicolò, stepping closer, peering at Joe like a puzzle he’s trying to solve. ‘All that time, I thought it was me, stealing every moment I could, hoarding them. But you were too. What could we have gained, if only one of us had cut his cheek shaving in front of the other, or slipped with his knife at dinner? What have we lost, in the time between?’

They had a month together, entwined every second, never apart from the moment they met as all the love Yusuf had ever wished for had raged through him like Greek fire. Pulling himself away from Nicolò had been necessary, he had to protect his heart from the agony of watching Nicolò fade away. If he couldn’t see him go, then he could always be exactly as he was, in those perfect summer days.

How right he was; how wrong.

‘My heart,’ rasps Joe, clutching tightly at Nicolò’s hand, pulling it helplessly up to his lips to kiss his beloved for the first time in three hundred years. ‘You’ve been absent from me for so long. I’ve been a shade without you. What have we lost that we can’t regain?’

Nicolò smiles, the first breeze on a becalmed sea; the first snowdrop as winter ends; the first drop of rain after a drought.

‘We can regain everything, my love.’

(also here on ao3)