Jun 23, 2025
Looks like a storm brewing. Why does the sky remind me of you?
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Looks like a storm brewing. Why does the sky remind me of you?
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some things are just fated to exist
shoukd i make a moth blog....
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on one hand... I should be able to get back to things?? on the other I feel exhausted and heavy and weak
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Okay those are pretty fucking good.
https://cdn.apartmenttherapy.info/image/upload/f_jpg,q_auto:eco,c_fill,g_auto,w_1500,ar_4:3/tk%2Fphoto%2F2025%2F05-2025%2F2025-05-cowboy-candied-bacon%2Fcowboy-candied-bacon-430
https://www.madebyaprincessparties.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/Man-Candy-Sweet-Spicy-Candied-Bacon-Recipe.jpg
snacks?
There were endless ways to eat bacon if a person was innovative enough to try things nobody else had before.
A fact they had been proven by Chiari’s invention of bacon cake. Bacon ice cream was next.
He could tell just by looking at the first plate the fried strips of crispy pork were going to be spicy. Perfect. His affinity with spicy food was unmatched.
The familiar and satisfying burn hit his tongue as a whole piece was quickly stuffed into his mouth.
He wasn’t expecting the second offer to be as sweet as it was. Tangy and with a smaller amount of peppered kick.
The two dishes complimented each other perfectly.
A great breakfast.
Who needed eggs?
"Aɳ αʅƚαɾ?" There is something wrong with this voice. If it's a voice at all. None but him can hear it, melded as it is in the whispers of night. Between the rustling of trees from wind, and the sounds of a building settling. His patron is playing around, letting his voice sink into a mind in alcoholic slumber. "I αɱ ɳσ ɠσԃ, Hιԃαɳ. Wσυʅԃ ιƚ Ⴆҽ α Ⴆҽƚɾαყαʅ σϝ ყσυɾ ɠσԃ ιϝ ყσυ ƈʅαιɱҽԃ ɱҽ ʂσ?" A quiet chuckle. A tapping of something light, capped with metal. "Bυƚ ƈҽɾƚαιɳʅყ I ɯσυʅԃ ɳσƚ ɱιɳԃ ιƚ ιϝ ყσυ ɯιʂԋҽԃ ƚσ ɱαƙҽ σɳҽ ϝσɾ ɱҽ. Cαɳ ყσυ ɠυҽʂʂ ɱყ ɳαɱҽ, I ɯσɳԃҽɾ?"
He wasn’t disturbed by disembodied voices and faceless conversation. A god had been mumbling in his ear and stalking through his dreams for years now. The dead and ethereal often came to visit him when they were brave enough and had enough energy and strength to do so. Usually asking for favours or for the one who walks between the veil of the living and the dead to complete their unfinished business so they can be allowed to crossover into the afterlife.
Hidan was rarely ever helpful. The wrong person to contact. Their bullshit wasn’t his problem and he had his own stuff to do. Most of the time he didn’t even listen and there was never a second attempt.
This one was different. Not quite dead and not quite living. If it wasn’t a god or a deity, then what was it? It was the only thing that made sense with what he knew of existence.
“There are many Gods. But you and I both know that, don’t we?”
A shake of his head. He wasn’t into beating around the bush.
“Not a betrayal. Not unless I leave one for the other. All are meant to be respected. But not to be worshipped and followed.
Are you asking me to build you an altar? My hands have ever really only been good at one thing and it isn’t building.
I’m not a very good guesser either.”
