accidentally_sleepless

a photo of an old white man drinking a beer, slouched on a couch. a white speech bubble is drawn above him, as if he is saying what is above the image.



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  1. Public Bookmark *

    Words:
    28,094
    Works:
    2
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    247

    26 Jan 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 94

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    The zombie apocalypse is all fun and games until somebody loses an eye.

    Language:
    English
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    33,341
    Chapters:
    6/6
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    14 Jan 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 76

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    Adora sends her a picture of her mark, to make sure Catra replicates it exactly, but she doesn't need it. Catra knows every shift in hue, every curl of gold, every dapple on the edges. The paint is cool on her skin as it dries.

    (or, fake dating, soulmark edition)

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    7,874
    Chapters:
    1/1
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    Comments:
    26
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    16 Dec 2025

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Aventurine slides the revolver into his hand. The weight of it rests deftly against his palm. He pops open the cylinder—true to Sunday’s word, five empty chambers stare back at him. Neatly slotted in the sixth is one shining, fresh round.

    He closes it back up, smiling. “You weren’t lying about the single round, at the very least.”

    Sunday folds his hands atop one another, his face impassive. “You could always answer the question if you’re nervous.”

    “I think I’ll take my chances.” Aventurine cocks the hammer, relishing in the sound of the cylinder’s spin, and then points it at his own temple. He tilts his head up so that he’s looking down at Sunday, and lets a lazy grin spread from ear to studded ear.

     

    Bang, he mouths, as he presses down on the trigger.

     

    (Sunday and Aventurine play twenty questions, in which a refusal to answer might sink a bullet in their brain. Also, they strip.)

    Language:
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    08 Aug 2025

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    On the day Sunday is released into Aventurine’s care—or custody, if you asked the former his opinion on the matter—he waits until they are alone in his private quarters before he drops the veneer of passive acceptance. He takes full advantage of the two meager inches of height he has over Aventurine and glares down his nose at him, his lip curling into a snarl, teeth bared like a dog.

    “Don’t even consider gloating. This matter is only temporary, and I will secure my freedom before you can even begin to dream of your own,” he says, his tone even and hard as steel.

    Aventurine placates him with a shallow laugh, stepping away from Sunday in a show of goodwill. “Is that so? And how do you imagine yourself doing so?”

    “I wouldn’t share secrets with a competitor. I’m sure you understand.” Sunday folds his right arm behind his back. He watches Aventurine with unconcealed disdain.

    “What a brilliant strategist you are,” Aventurine says drily. “Perhaps we should make a wager on our own successes?”

    Language:
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    08 Aug 2025