#flickinator ball

[amorfodaa]

just three days 🙏

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x fem!reader. millie can see it. moxxie can see it. half the imps in hell can see it. but you and blitzø? admit to yourselves you're attracted to each other? please.

but when misfortune hits on a mission, things change. is it for the better?

for 🕰️ anon. 2.8k.

featuring: blitzø typical foul language, sexual references, canon-typical violence, and a shitty avril lavigne reference.

“Y’know, that was actually a pretty good move you pulled back there, Blitzø.” you note as you step back through the portal and back into the familiarity of I.M.P. headquarters. Wiping ash off your cheek with the back of your hand, you drop your weapon unceremoniously onto Luna’s desk as you pass. She barely registers it, picking it up and tossing into the crate behind her without looking up from her phone.

“Saved your ass,” he replies, stretching in a way that suggests he’d just gone for a lengthy stroll than on a murder spree.

“You did not,” you protest indignantly. “I had it handled fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, fuck you, B.” you snipe, accepting the bottle of water Moxxie offers you as he passes. Despite your words, a smile is playing on your lips. One that Blitzø readily returns, his expression warm despite the blood still splattered across his face. “I swear, this is the last time I ever try and give you a compliment. Besides, if you really want to be praised for ‘saving my ass’, maybe you shouldn’t have been the one to fuck up the mission in the first place.”

“Ugh,” he eye-rolls playfully, jumping up to sit on the edge of Loona’s desk. She barely gives him a glance, attention still trained back on her phone. “You wanna ride my dick over it, you better lube up first, tits. ‘Cause I fuck rough.”

“Satan, you’re hot,” you say patronizingly, propping your elbow on the arm of the sofa and resting your chin in your hand. Blitzø grins, leaning forward as his tail flicks back and forth behind him. “Seriously, how have I resisted you for this long?”

“You wanna come to your senses, I’ve got the cuffs and edible underwear in my desk.” He offers jovially, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards his office door.

“Sir, please!” Moxxie admonishes, appalled. Your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Mills: u 2 need 2 fuck so bad, I’M getting blue balls.

You look up from the screen and roll your eyes at the other imp pointedly, but she just raises an eyebrow at you as she takes a sip of her water. She’s been singing this song for weeks – this idea that you and Blitzø have some big secret yearning for each other. And sure, sometimes you might find yourself staring at him for a little too long… or your cheeks would flush when he looks at you the right way…

But that doesn’t mean you want to fuck him.

You were friends. And that’s fine.

Fine.

“Ohhh, you wanna join us, do ya, Mox? Blitzø taunts. He rubs a hand over his chin as though considering something. “Reckon we could squeeze your tight little ass into a pair of strawberry—”

You cut in before Moxxie can protest further, the shorter imp’s face flushed. “Why the fuck do you have edible underwear in your desk?”

Blitzø shrugs, leaning back on his hands in the picture of nonchalance. His tail flicks behind him. “They came in a three pack. And it turns out feathers and gummy panties don’t mix.”

You wrinkle your nose at the image that puts in your brain. The poor prince.

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Mmm… straight to the point, then.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Bet you taste—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Blitzø!” Loona groans loudly, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “Can you fucking not? I shouldn’t have to listen to this shit!”

You give him a poorly supressed grin in response to her outburst, and he winks at you before turning to offer Loona a series of obnoxiously over-the-top apologies, much to the hellhound’s chagrin. You shake your head in amusement as you settle back against the couch, your smile stiffening as you notice Millie staring at you pointedly, arms folded across her chest.

“What?”

“You know what,” she hisses, flicking her eyes meaningfully towards your boss. “Could the two o’ you be any more obvious?”

“Maybe if he was a skater boy,” you mutter under your breath sarcastically, tail tapping against the couch cushion beside you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You roll your eyes as she grabs hold of your wrist and drags you onto your feet and off into the conference room.  Of course, you know exactly what she’s talking about – this has apparently become one of Millie’s favourite topics of discussion for weeks now, no matter how profusely you deny it. You sigh as she closes the door behind you.

“Millie…”

“Don’t you ‘Millie’ me,” she scolds, jabbing a finger into your sternum. “This is silly!”

“You dragging my ass in here?” you shoot back. “Yes, it is.”

“Don’t even try it,” she replies. “When are you two gonna just admit tha’ ya like each other?”

“Mills, we’re not—”

“Oh, please. I ain’t blind. And neither’s Mox. It’s obvious.”

“There’s nothing to be obvious about,” you insist, dropping into your usual seat. Still, you can feel a flush burning through your cheeks. “Besides, he’s my boss.”

“Don’t give me that.” It’s her turn to roll her eyes, her tail waving irritably behind her. “Look, I love you. I love Blitzø. But you’re both fuckin’ idiots if ya think you’re foolin’ anyone! You know Blitzø would fuck you in a heartbeat!”

“Oh, please. He’d fuck a bagel in a heartbeat.” you retort. “We’re just friends. That’s all. Alright?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Sir,” Moxxie says as he follows Blitzø into his office. “When are you going to admit to Y/N that you like her?”

“What’s not to like?” Blitzø replies casually, tossing the weapons he’d used into one of the trunks in the corner. He has two identical ones; the only difference being that one was labelled ‘Wepons of Ass Destrukshun’. “She’s got a smokin’ set of tits and an ass that won’t quit.”

“Sir, that’s not—”

“Oh, come on, Moxx. You might be ‘married’,” he says the word in a mocking tone, as though they’d just traded ring-pops on a whim instead of matrimonial vows. “But you’re not blind.”

“I didn’t—”

He nudges Moxxie in the ribs with his elbow, and the shorter imp shoves him away. Blitzø grins wickedly. “Ooh, is that it? You want me to get all sweaty with her so I can give you all the nasty details? You freaky little pervert! I’m so proud of you!”

“Blitzø.” Moxxie deadpans. “You clearly have feelings for Y/N. And while usually I would lecture you on the inappropriateness of an employer pursuing an employee, you’re, well… you, and I can only expect the bar to go so high.”

“You’re welcome.”

“—All I’m suggesting, sir, is that you’re honest with yourself about those feelings. I think you’ll find—”

“I think yooooou’ll find that if I wanted to hear all about how neat ‘cuddling’ or whatever the fuck is, I’d watch one of those shit-ass hella-novellas Stolas is always ravin’ about.” he replies dismissively. “If she wants to get naked and bounce—”

“Sir.”

“—on my dick like a rodeo whore, then sign me the fuck up.” Blitzø drops into his chair, tucking his arms behind his head and his feet kicked up on the desk in front of him. “But that don’t mean we’ve got anything more between us. So, get your mind back in the gutter and tell me exactly how often you think about gettin’ double teamed by her and your strap-wieldin’ wife while I’m still hard.”

“Blitzø!”

The imp cackles heartily at Moxxie’s aghast tone, loud enough that you can hear him from the other room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Oh, fuck yeah!” Blitzø crows as the battle turns bloody, and you bury your dagger in the chest of the nearest target. “Eat a dick, assholes!”

You laugh breathlessly as Millie seconds his elation with a whoop, tugging the blade out of the body before it can fall and flinging the dagger out to your left, sending it into the eye socket of another human. You run, bending down to swipe your knife free of their skull and using the body as a makeshift springboard. You leap through the air, grabbing a fistful of hair of the next human, and they cry out in pain as you use the hold to swing around them to plant your feet on his chest and bury the blade in his neck.

“Ladies, let’s not get distracted here,” Blitzø calls, and you hear a spray of gunfire from the next room. “If Moxxie gets to kill this target before I get to take a selfie with their bitch-ass crying face, imma be pissed.”

“Then go!” Millie calls back, exhilarated. “We’re right behind you!”

You roll forward as the body falls, wrapping your tail around the handle of the knife and yanking it free again. You land in a crouch, sending the knife flying off into your next target. It hit them in the small of their back and they scream out in agony, and Millie uses her axe to decapitate them before they can even run out of breath.

You reach behind you to tug the other dagger out of the harness on your back, only to freeze when the double barrel of a shotgun swings down to point at you, only inches from your face.

“Well… shit.”

And then pain explodes over the back of your head and you’re unconscious before you hit the ground.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Okay…” you groan as you wake up, touching a hand to the back of your head. It comes away sticky with blood. “That hurt.”

You curse as you try to stand and the crown of your head meets metal bars, and you realize you’re surrounded by the stuff. You can feel the cold, smooth expanse of it under your fingers and hugging your shoulders, and you blink until your eyes focus, ignoring the throbbing of the back of your skull.

“Oh, for fuck’s—seriously?!”

You’ve been locked in a dog crate.

“Hey, looks like the little thing is awake,” says a feminine voice, and you wince as torchlight shines directly into your eyes.

“Cut the light, bitch.” you snarl, holding up a hand against it and squinting. You can only make out the shape of the woman, and the other figures behind her. “And I suggest you let me outta here before my friends find you, or… well, you’re gonna die either way, really. So, you know what? Go fucking nuts.”

The cage rocks to the side suddenly as someone’s boot meets the side and you curse as the move knocks you onto your side. “Fuck!”

“Mouthy little beast, ain’t it?”

“Hush up, Jeremy.” the woman replies as a growl rumbles through your chest. “This thing’s gonna make us—”

She breaks off suddenly and you flinch, sprayed with blood as her head explodes.

“Told ya so.”

“Listen here, ass fuckers!” you hear Blitzø snarl, another deafening shot firing into the air. “That’s my fuckin’ girl you’re fuckin’ with! So, unless you want my gun shoved so far down your cock-suckin’ throats you start shittin’ bullets, you better let her the fuck outta there you ugly-ass cunt-fucks!”

“Wh—?”

He barely lets them react before gunfire sounds again, and you hear bodies begin to fall. A smaller figure emerges among the humans, quick and deadly, and you watch as Millie flings herself into the fray, axe-first.

You hear the sound of metal being fumbled with, the padlock on the crate’s door hitting the ground with a thunk before the door swings open. Moxxie hooks a hand around your bicep and pulls you gently out of the cage, helping you to your feet. Your head swims as he does, and you clutch at his arm for balance.

“Thanks, Mox.”

He smiles despite the concern knitting his brow. “Can you walk?”

“Think so,” you reply, letting him lead you away from the carnage his wife and boss are currently wreaking. You can hear Blitzø cursing as something heavy hits the floor. You continue as Moxxie leads you into an alcove and pulls out his phone. “And, uh, Moxxie?”

“Yes?”

“About the dog crate…”

He grins as a portal opens up ahead of you, miming turning a lock in front of his lips. “I won’t say a word.”

“Thanks.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You grunt in pain as Blitzø pulls up outside your apartment, the van mounting the gutter and narrowly avoiding the row of trashcans.

“Whoops.” he deadpans, snickering when you flip him off. “You good?”

“I was,” you say pettily, and he rolls his eyes.

“’m serious. I didn’t—”

“I’ll be fine,” you assure him, dropping the icepack you’d taken from the office on the seat beside you. “If I’m going out, it’s not because some bitch-ass human got the drop on me.”

Blitzø smirks before rubbing a hand over the back of his head. “Look, I—”

“I gotta ask you something, B.”

He raises a brow. “If you’re lookin’ for ideas on how you can repay me for savin’ your ass back there—”

“I'm not.”

“Shame.” he shrugs casually. “’Cause if you’re gonna be handin’ out ‘thank you’s’, I’ve got a couple of ideas how you can give me mine. ‘Specially since you’re not complimentin’ me anymore…”

“I bet you do,” you reply dryly. “But can you hold off on the double entendre until after my headache goes away?”

He sighs dramatically. “Always fuckin’ something with you.”

You give a pained chuckle. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Ooh,” he draws it out, turning his head from where it rested against the back of the seat to wiggle his eyebrows at you. “Promise?”

“What did I just say?” you sigh, and he sniggers. “Now can I ask my thing?”

He waves a hand towards you by way of permission.

You swallow, fingers curling into your palms against your sudden anxiety. You look at him sidelong, an eyebrow raised. “Soooo… was I concussed, or did you call me your girl back on Earth?”

Blitzø stares at you, eyes wide for a moment before he lets out a coarse laugh that cuts right through you. “Did I—why would I—I mean…”

You sigh, shaking your head. Embarrassment burns in your cheeks and in your chest, and you swallow thickly. “Never mind. Like I said. Concussion.” Unbuckling your seatbelt, your hand curls back around the icepack as you move to shove open the van door with your shoulder. “I’ll see you at—”

You stop as you feel Blitzø’s hand close around your wrist, eyes widening as he pulls you back towards him. You fall against him as he does, his other hand claiming your cheek and his lips finding yours.

Blitzø kisses you roughly but somehow there’s still a sweetness to it, his claws curling in your hair as he slides his tongue into your mouth. His other hand leaves your wrist to clutch at your waist, holding you firmly against him. When your shock finally gives way, you feel yourself melt into the kiss, hands curling in the front of his coat.

You flinch away suddenly when the claws in your hair graze the edge of your wound. “Ow…”

“Fuck, sorry.” he grimaces, white cheek stained with red. “I didn’t—”

Your lips are on his again and Blitzø pulls you closer, urging you up onto his lap. You straddle his waist without breaking away from his mouth, taking his face in your hands. Blitzø groans into your mouth, arms wrapped around your middle to rest his hands on the small of your back. The touch made you shiver, and he felt it, pulling you flush against him so you can feel every inch of his chest and stomach pressed against yours.

“Blitzø…” you mumble his name into his kiss, one hand smoothing over the spikes at the back of his head, and when you grind your hips into his, Blitzø moans, bucking his hips up into—”

“SHIT!” he shouts, breaking away from your mouth in alarm as your back meets the steering wheel and the horn blasts, too loud. “Fuckin’ ASS!”

You snort a laugh, letting your head fall forward to bump your forehead against his shoulder. Blitzø smiles despite himself, and you feel his hand slide over your spine, smoothing between your shoulder blades.

“Fuckin’ loud ass—”

You shake your head against his shoulder, still chuckling.

“Finally make a fuckin’ move and the shitass—”

“Blitzø.” you interrupt, straightening to meet his eye. “…D’you wanna come upstairs?”

He swallows, his tail twitching slowly beside you. “Okay.”

[alanianatkinson]

ON A FRIDAY FOR THE FIRST TIME

The writer shares his 10km daily walk experience, embracing any weather. They, the Batik Influwencer and the Hatted Writer; prepare for a booth at Amcorp Shopping Mall for the Merdeka weekend, promoting Batik Cape creations and meeting with readers.

Just got back from my 10 kilometer daily walk a short while ago. The skies were a bit overcast at the beginning of my walk / “jog?”. Then, the sun came out, with its flame flickin’ rays spurting out heat balls at us, some 93,000,000 (93 million) miles or 151.07 million km away from us here on earth. It was sufferin’ succotash hot. I continued my walk to its distance. I did not want to stop as…

[disasterghaster-moved]

mr-pulvis​:

disasterghaster​:

The wrapping is the most fun part. When you peel it, you gotta get the whole square and then you gotta smooth it out. Like Hershey kiss wrappers, but master mode.

The wrappers are annoyin’ and the only thing they’re good for is rollin’ up into lil balls an’ flickin’ ‘em at people! [ Shook his head with a tut. ] The wrappin’s the most fun part… Yer the furthest from right anyone has ever been.

God, you live a boring life where everything I say is just Devil Talk. [Drawled while reaching to wiggle JP’s ears around. They weren’t floppy, but she treated them like they were. Gently of course. With free pets comes a side of free razzing.]

[ruschtotheoutdoors]

Five Outdoor Games for the Family

Have you seen these "Five Outdoor Games for the Family?" They are fun for families with both small kids and older kids. #games #outdoorfun #playwithkids #familyfun #playoutdoors #familyactivities #activities #playoutside #gooutside #outdoorswithkathy

Getting outdoors is important for the entire family. In fact, experts have proven that spending time in nature, may reduce stress, calm anxiety, and improve sensory perception. During winter, it can be tempting to stay indoors. When it’s very cold or rainy outside that’s understandable. But when the weather is fairly mild, why not urge the family to participate in outdoor games? Here are five…

[deans-baby-momma]

The Story of Us-Chapter 11

A/N: This is a rewrite of a story my good friend @spnbaby-67​ allowed me to take and rewrite. All mistakes are mine. This is canon divergent, meaning some things that happened in the show will still happen here but with my own twist to it.

Summary: She and Dean met when they were kids. Even at such a young age, she knew that he was her soulmate. Being the daughter of a hunter, Michaela (Micki) Singer knew the life he led came with a price, but she was up to the challenge.

Pairings: Dean Winchester/reader, Sam Winchester/friend!reader, John Winchester, Mary Winchester (mentioned only), Bobby Singer, and more from the Supernatural universe.

Warnings: Flashbacks are in italics, fluffy stuff, angst stuff, character death, kidnapping, depression, semi-dark themes

WC:  1,261

Spring 1996 (cont'd from ch 9) 

The remaining hours of prom were enjoyable for Micki now that Dean was by her side.  He stayed right with her, from the table to the dancefloor to the buffet, where Dean took delight in the variety of food offered. He ate two whole plates of food, plus dessert. 

It was when Micki had to go to the bathroom that cemented her feelings for the green-eyed Winchester.  Dean stands right outside the door, waiting for her. 

She was carefully washing her hands to save getting soap on her dress when she heard Jennifer Denning's nasally and irritating voice.

"What in the world are you doing with little orphan Annie? Do you feel sorry for her, is that it?"

Micki freezes, her hands still under the spray as she listens; hating the fact that her bully has cornered Dean. 

"Sorry for Mick?!" Dean's voice carries through the vent on the bottom of the door. "Why the hell would I feel sorry for her?"

She can hear Jennifer scoff and imagines she is rolling her eyes.

"A guy that looks like you shouldn't be with a nobody like her."

"Micki isn't a nobody," Dean defends. "She is smart, strong, beautiful and hella sexy. Ain't nobody compares to her."

"Sexy? Beautiful? What in the- Oh my God! Are you two screwing?! That's it, isn't it?"

"That's none of your business," Dean sneers but it doesn't really help the situation. 

"Oh my God! You are screwing her! That's why you're with her, she's an easy lay!" Jennifer laughs.

It is at that moment that Micki pulls the bathroom door open and exits. Jennifer's laughter turned to snickers as she watched Micki walk up to Dean and he puts his arm around her shoulders.

They go to walk away but Jennifer has to get one last jab in. "If you're that hard up for sex, I'll sleep with you."

Micki looks up at Dean to see his face full of fury and his jaw sit with fury. He shakes his head slightly and they walk away, going back to the gymnasium.

"Dean? Are you only with me because I give it up? Because I'm easy?"

"Mick,  don't let her get to you," Dean says as they sit in the front seat of the Impala, hours after prom is over. "She's a vapid bitch. Nothing she said was true."

"I know," Micki admits sheepishly. "But I just wanted to make sure." She lays her head on his shoulder and places her hand on his thick thigh. "Barney."

Dean reaches down and puts his finger under her chin, lifting her head to look into her eyes. "Barney, baby!"

He leans down and captures her mouth with his, licking along her bottom lips asking for entry, which Micki gladly consents to.

Before long, Dean's jacket, tie and cummerbund is on the dashboard and his shirt is unbuttoned and pulled from his pants. 

Micki's dress is balled into a heap of tulle and silk on the backseat, her body laid out across the front seat in just her panties.

The windows of the 1967 Chevrolet are fogged up as the two lovers kiss and grope each other, pulling moans and whines from the other.

"Dean," Micki whines as he kisses down her neck and across her collarbone.  "Please!"

She feels his lip pull into a smile against her skin as he ruts his rock hard cock against her covered core. 

"What do you want, baby? Huh?" He whispers against her chest before he sucks a nipple between his lips, flicking the puckered bud with his tongue and then nibbling on it. 

Micki can't say anything, as all the words have left her brain as she relishes in the pleasure he gives her. Her arms tighten around his shoulders, holding him to her breast. 

Once Dean has given both her tits sufficient attention, he kisses down her stomach to the hem of her panties. Micki can feel the dampness seep out of her, knowing what he is planning to do.

Dean slowly and methodically pulls the cotton from her body and throws the material behind him before looking up and meeting her eyes.

He gives her a smirk and a wink before he shoulders his way between her thighs and bends down.

The first swipe of his hot, wet tongue against her core causes Micki to throw her head back.  Dean works on opening her up before he sucks her clit into his mouth. 

When he slides a finger into her warm heat, Micki moans happily. Dean knows every single spot to hit to get her to her peak quickly.

Her body tenses and relaxes as she cums on his fingers and tongue. Dean works her through it until her labored breathing is back to normal.

"I love eating your pussy, Mick. It tastes so good when you cum."

Micki smiles shyly, though she doesn't know why. Dean has become pretty intimate with that part of her anatomy but it still makes her modest when he talks about it.

He pulls his dress pants and boxers down to his knees and grabs the condom from beside her on the seat, opening it and rolling it down his length.

When he is positive the rubber isn't going anywhere, he lines up to her entrance. The stretch as he enters her burns, but she basks in it. Micki loves feeling her body adjust to him as they become one. 

Once he is fully seated, he stills and leans down kissing her lovingly and tenderly. He begins pulling out a little and pushing back in. 

Micki tires of the slow build and begins lifting her hips as he pushing into her and he starts picking up the pace until he is fucking into her earnestly. 

The car squeaks as it rocks back and forth with his movements. Micki's hands are pressed against the inside door panel as she pants and the air is expelled from her with Dean's thrusts. 

"Fuck baby," Dean breathes out. "I love feeling that pussy squeezing my dick. You gonna cum again? Gonna cream my cock?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" She chants as she feels the coil deep inside her constrict. "Oh my God! Deeeean!"

They sneak into Bobby's a little after 4 in the morning, hair askew and smelling of sex. Dean kisses her deeply at the bottom of the stairs before sending her up to bed and headed to the basement where he and his father and brother are bunking. 

PRESENT DAY (2008)

Bobby, of course, argues with the Winchester's brothers about summoning whatever Castiel is. But in the end, he concedes but only if he goes with Dean and Sam stays back with the girls.

"This is a bad idea," Bobby groans as they're driving down the road. He glances over at his pseudo-son-in-law in the passenger seat.

"Yeah, I couldn't agree more, but what other choice do we have?"

"We could choose life," Bobby suggests. "Just count ourselves lucky that you're back. You and Mick can raise Maren together. Be a family, ya know."

"Bobby," Dean sighs. "Whatever this is, whatever it wants, it's after me. That much we know, right? I've got no place to hide. I can either get caught with my pants down again, or we can make our stand," Dean runs his hand over his head, pulling on his hair slightly to keep himself grounded. "I want to know how to keep my girls safe. I need to know I can keep them safe!"

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @atc74​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​  @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @hoboal87​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​ @akshi8278​ @lyarr24​ @maggiegirl17​ @chriszgirl92​

[letsturnupthejuice]

I-I want to go all the way. And.. and I want the full experience. So don't pull out. I-I want to feel it all. - Shy Anon

Baby you have made my millenium.

I'm gonna tongue your pussy a couple more times to make sure you're nice and wet. Can't help flickin' that clit a little more either, just to hear you squeal. When my dick can't take it any more, I'm gonna get up between your legs.

Let's move you to the edge of the mattress, far enough that it feels like your ass is gonna slide off. Trust me baby. I won't let you fall. You're gonna spread your legs--if you hike yourself up on your elbows you'll be able to watch me slip the tip of my cock along your folds. Then when I feel just the right spot, I'm gonna push in.

If you have to close your eyes, don't worry. Just do that thing breathers do and breathe. Once you're set, we'll keep going.

The nice thing about this position is that your pussy is gonna slip onto me. I'm not gonna have to do much at all--except not get too excited and fuck into before you're ready. You control the pace and before you know it, I'm gonna be balls' deep and then the fun will really start.

[yoooooooooooooooooooooooo]

USELESS? EXCUSE ME LAST TIME I CHECKED THEY PROVIDE SEROTONIN.

why r ball pythons so cute?? but so useless?

this dude already pooped in his tub, even tho i JUST changed his substrate out

[mintjamsblog]

Wet (by MintJam)

Peaky Blinders fic: Tommy x Alfie

Read on A03

Summary: In which Alfie is not feeling himself.  

"He realises that the clothes he was wearing when he got into this bed last night are nowhere to be seen; he's naked as a newborn. It's pretty disconcerting that, because a man needs to keep a grip on a few basics in life doesn't he? Like the whereabouts of his own fuckin' underpants. All sorts of other things can start going awry if a man doesn't know where his kecks are or who took 'em off."

Warnings: NSFW!

Wet

It’s raining when Alfie wakes up on a Thursday morning. Proper rain. Not the usual damp London drizzle, but big, fat droplets that seem to fall too slowly and land too loudly. He hasn’t looked out yet but he can hear them smacking thickly against the glass, warning him to stay put. It makes a pleasant change, he supposes; it’s usually the birds that wake him first, welcoming the not-yet-dawn, although it seems they’ve all taken cover this morning, too busy keeping their feathers dry. Contrary little fuckers, birds; happy enough to chirp delightedly each morning over the Somme, heedless of the acres of filth and stench of death, and yet silenced by a simple downpour.

He lies still, listening to the water collecting in the gutters outside, running down the street and gurgling noisily into the drains. His sheets are drenched and he needs a piss. He ought to get up. No doubt the rain had a hand in conjuring up last night’s choice selection from the darkest recesses of his mind: Old Archie Pembroke. Fucker should have paid up of course — was one of the few that could afford to. Alfie had made sure it was a suitably watery end for the landlord of The Ship, The Lock Tavern and The Black Buoy. Drowning. In a barrel of his own beer. The ripples it sent through Camden doubtless saved the lives of a dozen other landlords who thought better of standing up to the volatile Jew thereafter. One life wrung out for the loyalty of dozens; he’d do it again in a trice.

The level of detail his subconscious mind can recall always staggers Alfie — the strength of grip required to keep a man's head beneath the surface; the frantic gasps for air after each submersion; the surprisingly long time it took for him to finally stop struggling.  He'd forced the bar staff to watch (there's really no point in the theatre of it without an audience to spread the word) and they had gasped their way into his sleep too. Still, it was a far better death than many Alfie witnessed in France. Gas was the worst. When you've watched a man retch up yellow liquid from the depths of his own lungs over two whole days and nights — before finally drowning in it — then it's hard to feel sorry for a man like Pembroke.

Funny how the battlefield is not the thing that haunts Alfie. It haunts Tommy, he knows that much. Not that they ever discuss or even acknowledge that fact unless absolutely forced to. If Tommy’s aware of Alfie’s dreams then he doesn’t let on. Which is fine. It’s the same tack Alfie’s taken many times in reverse because no good comes of dragging those thoughts into your waking hours, far better to leave them wrapped in the sheets. Food or a fuck is Alfie's preferred medicine — although seeing as the cupboards are bare and Tommy hasn't been in London for days neither is on the menu this morning.

The rain continues unabated as he splashes cold water over his face; washes his eyes, his hair, his beard. The dream refuses to wash off, its remnants cling to him like smoke; not the specifics, just a vague feeling of unease that he knows will last well past lunchtime. Which is why, when Edna shuffles in, a blast of petrichor in her wake, he welcomes the distraction and insists she drink tea with him. She knows the score, knows she'll find wet sheets when she heads upstairs, but Alfie's strange gruff manner doesn't bother her. She'd never have lasted this long if it did. And so they share tea and Alfie asks after her brother, a man so wrecked by the war he never leaves the house. They share the bagels Edna brought in comfortable silence until, with warm tea and food in his belly the heaviness starts to lift. Alfie can't help but think of his mother, like Edna a hard-working, uncomplaining woman. He wonders vaguely what she'd make of the man he's become? Would she be proud or dismayed? Neither, probably, she was always a pragmatist. Alfie's pulled from his thoughts by the shrill ring of the telephone in the other room. It's Olly, all of a panic — there's been some sort of flood at the bakery. He's starting to wonder if his watery dream was an omen.

–––––

The mess at the bakery is nothing short of a disaster; the priority is keeping the surviving barrels dry and protecting the molasses (that stuff is still not easy to come by — not quite the liquid gold it was a few years ago, but valuable nonetheless). He spends half the day knee-deep in cold, filthy water and the other half bellowing at his staff, the insurance broker, several suppliers and anyone else with enough of a death-wish to come within 5 yards of him. Which all means that by the time he gets home he is freezing, stinking and ready to kill the next person to so much as look at him the wrong way.  He runs himself a bath (upstairs; he's too tired to fill the copper tub) and lies in the warm water pondering the fucking fortune it's gonna cost to sort out the buildings — not to mention the lost stock, revenue and good will. The one saving grace, if you can call it that, is that the whole shebang appears to have been an act of God, which at least means he doesn't have to add retribution to the list of actions required (the Lord God Almighty is outside even Alfie's jurisdiction). He lays there, eyes closed, and tries to empty his head, to think of nothing, to think of the value of sight, but his mind is too busy and it isn't long before he finds himself wondering what's been happening with the Shelbys. In and of itself, this fact is downright bloody disturbing. The last thing he needs in his current mood is an unsolicited image of John and Arthur skittering across his mind — it's enough to make his already disinterested cock retreat back inside his body entirely. Fucking hell. He's not one to cast aspersions on the virtue of the late Mrs Shelby, but the idea that Tommy was born of the same blood as those two gormless idiots is just ... well it's fucking preposterous is what it is.

If he's honest, he's a bit disappointed that Tommy hasn't been in touch for days. Not that he's made any running himself, of course. Tommy will be in touch when he's good and ready. Or when he's spectacularly fucked himself up somehow. One or the other. He drags himself slowly out of the bath and decides to turn in for the night because he's not feeling all that great — throat a bit sore, chest a bit heavy — all that fucking cold water no doubt. It doesn't prevent the ghastly dream that follows shortly after, it's William Taylor tonight (stabbed in the chest) although he wakes halfway through the grisly climax because there's banging coming from downstairs. Shit, he forgot to lock the fucking security bars. He grabs his gun as he stumbles onto the landing, physically shaking off the nightmare as he limps down the stairs. It’s Tommy, of course, and he's clearly had a couple of drinks ... not a skinful, but enough to make him a little louder than usual.

"You haven't locked the fucking security gates, Alfie."

"Well hello to you too, darling."

Tommy's looking at him strangely, brow furrowed. "Did I get you out of the bath?" he asks.

Alfie looks down, momentarily perplexed, before realising his undershirt is soaked. "Yeah, yeah, s'nothing," he grumbles. "Shitty day, that's all." He'd rather not have to explain exactly why he's drenched in sweat, but one of the benefits of sleeping with an emotionally repressed numbskull is that he's highly unlikely to pry. Especially when he's had a few. Alfie heads back upstairs and straight to his room, retrieving a fresh undershirt from the press. He's just changed into it when Tommy appears from the bathroom, looking less clothed but more bemused. He sits down on the edge of the bed and opens his arms in a clear signal he wants a hug. He's definitely had a drink, then. Alfie walks into the embrace, stands between his open thighs and lets warm arms wrap around his waist. Tommy rests his head against Alfie's stomach for a moment and it fucking warms his cockles, even if the man does smell of whiskey. Of course then Tommy opens his mouth and spoils the whole bloody moment, but that's him all over innit? "Nearly broke my fucking leg in there," he mumbles into Alfie's shirt. "S'water everywhere. Wet my socks. And you didn't empty the tub, it's full of cold water."

"All fuckin' right," Alfie says defensively. "Anything else you'd like to complain about? It is me own bleeding house, mate." He was going to add an amusing quip about whales and blowholes but his brain doesn't want to play ball. It wants to close down for the night, despite the slightly drunk man clinging to his middle who is now trying to nose down his shorts.

"I really need to get some shut-eye, mate."

"Too tired for a blow job?" Tommy says, fingers tucking into Alfie's waistband.

"Fraid so," Alfie mumbles, at which Tommy looks absolutely incredulous. Which is a bit offensive actually. It's not like he's a total whore on an average day now, is it? Although, actually ...  where Tommy is concerned ... now that he looks back on the past few months ... well whore's not quitethe word he'd choose. He can't help it if he's generally enthusiastic. Because Tommy is genuinely the best shag of his life and can get him hard just by walking through a door... usually ... bloody hell, which is a sure sign he's not one hundred percent tonight, but doesn't mean ...

"Alfie? You sure?"

"Fuckin' hell Tom, never thought I'd say this, but yes."

"Alright," Tommy says, pushing himself up. Only now he's fucking pouting. Alfie can't resist reaching over and flicking the bottom lip that's protruding just enough to have crossed the line between sexy and childish. It doesn't go down well – Tommy smacks his hand away irritably and proceeds to unbutton his shirt. If Alfie was feeling more himself he'd find a suitable way to repay Tommy for that. But he's not. So he doesn't.

"Just get in, Tommy," he sighs as he pulls back the covers and slides one leg into the bed. The sodden sheets make him recoil instantly, "Oh for fucks sake," he yells. Tommy looks up at him sharply. "S'fuckin drenched. Just like this entire wretched day. I'm gonna sleep in the spare room." He heads for the door in exasperation, fully expecting Tommy to follow. He doesn't. He just stands there looking like he's been slapped. "With you, you bloody idiot," Alfie snaps, grabbing Tommy by the hand and physically dragging him across the landing. How come, right, he's the one who's just relived, with ungodly realism, a brutal (albeit necessary) stabbing; he's the one who feels like shit, and yet Tommy's the one who needs reassuring?

He gets into the spare bed and manhandles Tommy into some sort of spooning position. He can't tell whether the man's still pouting or not, but the way he presses his back against Alfie's chest suggests not. He kisses the back of Tommy's head, hopeful of a more peaceful night now that this surly, peevish little gypsy is back in his bed. Well, not his bed, technically. His spare bed. But the point stands. He's asleep within moments.

–––––

The bloody birds are back on form the next morning, little bastards, cheerily welcoming the new day. At least that means the rain's stopped. He's confused for a moment when he opens his eyes, can't quite place where he is. He feels rough as old boots – his head aches, his throat feels like glasspaper and his limbs feel like sandbags. He's overslept, must have done, the sun's already up and there's no sign of Tommy. He realises that the clothes he was wearing when he got into this bed last night are nowhere to be seen either; he's naked as a newborn. It's pretty disconcerting that, because a man needs to keep a grip on a few basics in life doesn't he? Like the whereabouts of his own fuckin' underpants. All sorts of other things can start going awry if a man doesn't know where his kecks are or who took 'em off. Not only that, but there's a towel in the bed. It's all bunched up and digging into the backs of his knees uncomfortably, but it's very definitely under him. He digs his fingers into his eye sockets as if that might rub some recollection into them. It doesn't, so he throws himself back down against the pillows instead.

"Morning, Alfie," Tommy says a couple of minutes later, carrying a tray into the room. Alfie tries to reply, but all that comes out is a strained croaking sound. He coughs and tries again, but it's not much better. Fucking hell he is on the back foot here — Tommy is up and dressed and back to his usual rigid self. He's looking as beautifully buttoned up as ever, whilst Alfie doesn't even know where his clothes are, let alone how he got out of them.

"Oh dear, oh dear," Tommy mocks. "Has Alfred Solomons lost his voice?" He looks fucking delighted with himself. Bastard.

"Well," Alfie croaks, "I am of course only here to ensure a smile passes your lips at least once a week. Glad to see my misfortune has achieved that already this morning."

"Shut up, Alfie," Tommy says, "you sound like a toad."

It's a fair point. Rude, but fair. He manages to stay quiet for all of twenty seconds before curiosity gets the better of him. He has a feeling he's not going to like the answer to this question but he asks it anyway.

"So did you have your wicked way with me last night whilst I was unconscious or has an evil fairy performed a vanishing spell on my clothes? Hmm?"

"They were wet," Tommy says dismissively, before swiftly changing the subject. "Thought you might like something to eat," he says, placing the tray down on Alfie's legs. "Tea, toast and some weird-looking pastry things," Tommy says, recoiling from the plate.

"It's a type of food, Tommy. Some of us actually enjoy that, you know."

"They remind me of pissing contests in the school yard."

"You what?" Alfie splutters.

"You know, all of us boys would line up and see who could piss the highest up the wall. That's what they look like — a row of little dicks."

"Fuckin' hell Tommy, that is just nasty." Despite which, he finds himself wondering who won, even rooting for eight-year-old-Tommy. His brain is quite clearly addled. "They're called rugelach; Edna makes 'em. You should try one."

"No thanks," Tommy says, grimacing. "Only dick I wanna put my lips around is under those blankets."

That makes Alfie laugh, or at least try to, it catches in his throat and turns into something between a wheeze and a cough.

"I've gotta go," Tommy says, leaning over to give him a peck on the forehead. "Think you'd best stay here, eh?"

"Yeah, yeah, m'not going anywhere. All that bloody water. Must've caught something."

"I'll be back later. Got people to see."

–––––

Alfie spends half of the day in bed, hoping he can sleep off the worst of whatever this is. He avoids the towel and the damp sheets by sleeping on Tommy's side, but eventually his back forces him up — staying still for too long never does it any good. The light is grey and watery, must be afternoon by now, so he finds himself trousers and an undershirt, pulls them on as carelessly as ever and covers them with not one waistcoat, but two. He wraps a scarf around his neck for good measure and makes his way downstairs. One thing's for sure, he can't go to the bakery in this state. Men work harder for a monster than they do for other men – it doesn't do to humanise oneself with the staff. He makes an exception for Edna, calls Olly and has him send her over even though it's not one of her days. Be easier, maybe, if he installed a phone at her house. He makes sure to berate Olly soundly for all the things he knows will be sliding in his absence, as much to satisfy his irritability as to keep up appearances.

His theory on leadership is reinforced nicely by Edna's reaction to his watery eyes and rasping voice. "Oh Mr Solomons, you're not well. You must let me light you a fire. I'll bring honey and lemon. And make you some soup."  See? Just like that he is no longer a leader of men but a little boy, as feeble and fallible as the rest of them. Much as he can't stand fussing, he can't deny that the soup, when it arrives, is deliciously welcome.

"If you could change the beds, Edna, please," he says, blowing across his mug of hot lemon. "I'll have a visitor tonight."

"Very good, sir. But ... " she pauses, nervously, "are you sure you're up to guests?"

And there it is again, that line being crossed purely and simply on grounds of his temporary infirmity.

"I'm up to this one," he answers gruffly.

Once she's gone he takes himself back up to bed. His whole body feels heavy and slow and unusually cold but the clean sheets are a luxury he can never take for granted — not when he's slept too many days and nights in mud thick with excrement and the slime of rotting flesh. Give him cool, crisp cotton over lice-ridden wool for the rest of his days and he will consider himself blessed. He should bathe really, but he can't face the bother. Maybe in a little while...

A hand on his cheek wakes him that evening. Fingers unmistakably cool and dry. He's fully clothed atop his sheets and feels a little better for the rest. But he's  cold.

"Come downstairs for a bit, it's warmer," Tommy says quietly. Bloody hell, he hates this, feeling weak, coddled. He's tempted to refuse on principle. But Tommy is waiting for him on the landing and the fact that he isn't pushing forces Alfie to comply. "Not sure I can be arsed, mate. Too much bloody effort," he mumbles as he follows. He draws the line at Tommy holding his hands out, though.  "I'm not a bloody invalid," he snaps, before undermining his point entirely by taking them nonetheless. Well, lying down all day has made everything seize up a bit more than usual.

As they reach the living room it's obvious that the fire is roaring in the grate. In front of it is his huge copper tub, like a ship ready to set sail, already steaming. And, that is something innit? He perks up a little at the sight, before frowning again, because it is rather disconcerting that Tommy managed to come into his house, get the tub from the yard and complete the laborious task of filling it with hot water without Alfie ever waking. He should be bothered by that. Very fucking bothered. Except there's a pleasant warm feeling in his belly that he chooses to go with instead.

"Come on then, get 'em off," Tommy chides, gesturing to the clothes he's still wearing, "before it gets cold."

The hot water is a joy to his aching joints. He's just leaning back against the high end when Tommy, fag dangling from the corner of his mouth, uncorks a small brown bottle and pours something into the water. The room immediately fills with a fierce, fiery smell, like pepper, or mustard, or fuck knows ... cloves or something. It's pungent and so acrid it hits the back of his throat.  "Good god, Tommy, what the fuck is that? Are you tryin' to off me?" he coughs, just as the ash falls off into the water. Bloody hell, no finesse that boy.

"It's good for the chest," Tommy says, obliviously putting the cork back. "Fetched it from Ada's this afternoon."

"Smells like it's meant for horses, not humans."

"It is," Tommy answers bluntly, swirling his hand in the water to spread it through.

"Fucks sake, you're not even joking are you? You can take the boy out of the caravan..."

Alfie rests his head on the back of the tub. As the smell recedes a little it becomes familiar, sparking a memory of the first time he ever set eyes on Tommy, all those years ago. "This what you used after the Italians did their job on you?" he asks.

"It is."

"Fuckin' hell, talkative tonight, aren't we?"

Tommy ignores him as he throws his cigarette end into the fire and starts removing his cufflinks, rolling his shirt sleeves up to the elbows. When he's done he pulls a footstool over and seats himself right up against the tub. "Sit up a bit," he orders, as he scoops water into a small cup. Alfie complies, wondering what the fuck he's doing. "Look up, you don't want this stuff in your eyes." Alfie is just about to ask him why when Tommy pours the water over the back of his head and starts raking his fingers through his hair. He feels like he ought to protest, but Tommy's already doing it again, pouring the water and raking it through, three times, four times, all brisk efficiency and alright, this has taken Alfie a bit off guard but he is suddenly intrigued. Tommy's movements are swift and awkward and he's very definitely looking at anything but Alfie; almost like he's embarrassed. Which is kind of odd, because it's not like anyone asked him to do this did they? He can see Tommy leaning down for something out of the corner of his eye. "That better not be any more of that horse potion," he mumbles, but it's soap, which Tommy is lathering furiously between his palms as though it's done him an evil in a past life.

The next thing he knows the soap is being slapped onto his head. Tommy proceeds to scrub at his hair so roughly it makes Alfie's head joggle on his shoulders, and yet he can't help but smile broadly. Here he is, a grown man approaching the fourth decade of his life, having his hair washed like some school kid visiting the nit-nurse. The man doing it is so bloody awkward it's comical, like he's actively trying to sabotage his own (rather thoughtful) gesture by deliberately going about it in a way that suggests he doesn't care at all. It really shouldn't be so fucking endearing. Alfie suppresses the desire to outright chuckle, because despite the absurdity of the situation he doesn't want it to end. Instead he shifts himself slowly backwards until he's leaning against the end of the tub again. Tommy stands up and walks round behind him, and somehow, being out of Alfie's line of sight seems to relax him a bit — his movements slow down and his fingers soften, which in turn allows Alfie to settle. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of Tommy's fingers as they slip down to his shoulders, more sure of themselves now; they start a slow, firm slide upwards, thumbs pressing into the nape of his neck, fingers splaying out behind his ears. That's it. That's much better. When they reach the top of his scalp they start turning small circles around his crown, his hairline, his temples. Bloody hell, it feels good; he lets out a low, satisfied groan.

"Alright?" Tommy asks quietly.

"Yeah s'alright. S'fucking good, mate. Really fucking good." And so Tommy keeps going, firm fingers pressing and scraping all over his head and neck until it's sending actual shivers down Alfie's spine, and not just from the pure physical pleasure. It's the fact that Tommy, a man generally oblivious to his own physical well-being, is lavishing attention on him. Care. Part of Alfie wants to rebel, to fight the implication that he needs this in anyway, but the truth of the matter is that no one has ever done anything like this for him before. His mum must have done, once upon a time, but he's blowed if he can remember it and damn sure the bath wouldn't have been this hot or the fire this bright. And so he contents himself to watch the water — glowing orange like a sunset as it reflects the copper and the flames — and to lap up every delicious second of Tommy's hands on him. It's affectionate and intimate and Alfie would like to acknowledge that he appreciates it; to tell him that it means something. But in the end he's too wary of breaking the fragile silence, so he sits and sighs and silently enjoys the attention.

Eventually Tommy fills the cup again and pours water over his hair; Alfie has to sit up a bit so that it doesn't run onto the floor and Tommy moves to better reach him. He uses one hand to shield Alfie's eyes from the soap, smoothing his palm and pushing the water backwards. It makes Alfie's stomach flip, alarmingly. Just the way he's being so damn careful about it, tilting Alfie's head, stroking his hair, concentrating.  Hard to believe that it's Tommy. Tommy, who is always so stroppy and closed up and desperate to maintain his distance and his composure. Tommy, who only articulates anything meaningful under duress. Tommy who stripped his damp clothes in the night; who pretends not to know the real reason for the wet sheets; who brought him a towel to sleep on and breakfast in bed. Tommy who fetched some remedy from Ada's and heated pans on the stove to fill this cumbersome old bath — despite there being a perfectly functioning one upstairs — because he knows it's what Alfie prefers. He wishes it was easier just to say all that out loud, but it's not, is it? Because it will make Tommy self-conscious and evasive and defensive and then Alfie will have to spend hours (if not days) coaxing him back round. So he reverts to safety, to actions not words, because this is what they do.

"Get in," he growls. Tommy looks down at him, a slight twitch to the corner of his mouth. Alfie grabs his wrist until he drops the cup and looks him straight in the eye. "You, are gonna get in here in the next sixty seconds or I'm pulling you in with your clothes on."

"You feeling a little better?" Tommy asks, with an actual, proper smile.

"I'm planning on feeling a little gypsy," he replies, pulling harder on the arm. Tommy starts to move, irritatingly slowly, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it out of his trousers (too easily Alfie notes). "You need to eat something," he says.

"Fuck off," Tommy snaps back, and Alfie chooses to fight that battle another day, because he's meant to be feeling appreciative. Instead he focuses on the sight of Tommy folding himself up between Alfies legs, back to his chest, both facing the fire. It never fails to amaze him, how small Tommy can make himself, so lithe and wiry he can bend in two. He smoothes his wet hands across Tommy's shoulders, making his skin glisten. He really has a rather lovely neck, Alfie thinks as he leans down to kiss it, slipping his hands around to smooth over the pale planes of his chest. He is too fucking small, but it's hard to care when he’s nestled into Alfie like a cat, practically purring as Alfie continues to nuzzle at his neck. When his fingers find Tommy’s nipples they tease gently and a low sound vibrates in Tommy's throat. Alfie squeezes harder, pinching both nubs painfully and not letting go. The water splashes gently by Tommy's left foot as he flinches at the harsh touch, which only makes Alfie let out a low groan of his own.

He doesn't relent, just pinches harder still until Tommy tenses his feet against the foot of the bath and pushes back against his chest. Fuck, there he is, Alfie's needy little bastard. He finally lets go when Tommy hisses. And just like that, the atmosphere has changed, been charged. He runs one hand down Tommy's side and slides it over to cup his cock, satisfyingly hard already. "Mmmm," Alfie whispers into his neck, gently teasing his balls, "think you've earned yourself a reward. Get on you knees."

Tommy hesitates, turning to peer over his shoulder at Alfie. "I thought you weren't feeling well," he says. Which is not an outright refusal, is it? More a play for time.

"Never said that," Alfie replies. Which is true. Plus he is never going to amit that the gypsy potion might be doing some good.

Tommy slowly starts to lift himself, confused but compliant, clearly a good boy tonight. "That's it, face the fire," Alfie says, hands already stroking up and down Tommy's thighs, admiring the view. He's kneeling upright, between Alfie's knees, back to his face.

"Alfie, what are you doing?" he asks, sounding a little fed up.

"Just hold onto that end for me," Alfie says, nodding towards the foot of the bath. He resists using the words "bend over," even though that's exactlywhat he means, because they both know Tommy doesn't like it.

"What the ..." Tommy starts to protest and Alfie just cuts him off. "Just do as you're told, eh?" Tommy swallows and reaches towards the end of the tub reluctantly. When he's got both hands on it, back slightly arched, Alfie lifts his knees, one at a time, and places them either side of his own. That's better, the stance is wider and he runs his hands over the smooth cheeks now just in front of his face. He really wants Tommy to bend down lower, but he's willing to take his time. He leans for the soap and lathers it up to a thick foam before reaching for Tommy's cock — less hard than it was before, signalling his self-consciousness. It's disappointing, but Alfie is unperturbed. He proceeds to massage the soap all over Tommy's balls and cock before stroking over his arse. "What the fuck are you doing?" Tommy asks, sounding a little shocked.

"Just returning the favour, love," he says, tone all innocent. His intentions are anything but as he rubs his thumb down the crease between Tommy's pale cheeks, feeling him flinch each time he passes the hole. He's enjoying the view immensely as he rolls Tommy's balls with the other hand, soaping them gently like a pair of delicate eggs. The hand on his arse keeps stroking the crease, up and down, catching on that puckered little hole on each passing glide. Tommy is starting to relax, to push back slightly and lower his head. That's it, Alfie thinks, like coaxing a kitten to a saucer of milk, he'll go gently and get what he wants. He slides his hand back to to the re-hardened cock, spreading the suds until everything is soft and slippery and too captivating to ignore.

He can't help but stare at Tommy's arse while he slides his hands over everything. He pushes the tip of his thumb into the hole and quickly back out - the little gasp from Tommy like music to his ears. He repeats the movement, quickly, eagerly, just short, sharp stabs that make Tommy clench and Alfie sigh.

"Just stay there love, right fucking there," he says, gripping one thigh like a warning. He picks up the cup and pours water from the small of Tommy's back, watching as it floods down the perfect crevice of his arse. When the soap has all gone he slumps slightly in the water and prises the cheeks apart with his thumbs. Tommy rocks forward slightly at that, everything tightening against the scrutiny, but Alfie keeps his grip, keeps him spread. Then he does what he's wanted to do for a very long time and flicks his tongue over the tight little entrance, once, twice, three times.

Strange that this should  feel forbidden, despite everything else that they do. Which may or may not explain the gut-punch of lust overtaking Alfie right this bloody second; the unusually vocal sound Tommy makes as he sloshes forward in the water does absolutely nothing to quell it — it's as if he's trying to escape, but Alfie just puts his hands round the front of his thighs and pulls him back into place, because he has no intention of stopping. But neither does he have any idea of what might actually feel good to the recipient, he realises. It can't be that different from kissing he figures, so he presses his lips to the hollow dimple and licks softly, reverently until Tommy responds with a strange, strangled sound.

"Just relax," Alfie mumbles, because fuck this is turning him on; the heat, the smell, the smooth, fluttering muscle – the way Tommy's subtly resisting – pulling away and tightening up so that Alfie has to grip his hips hard and hold him in place. He lets his tongue flatten and skates it upwards, firmly, licking the length of his crease slowly, repeatedly. He pays some attention to the back of his balls but can't help but return to lick over the central nucleus, wetting him, lapping him, tasting him.

When Alfie's tongue dares to dip inside Tommy's head droops dramatically downwards; he moans out a curse and seems to collapse, shoulders dropping like he's suddenly boneless. His head rests on his forearms, draped over the end of the bath and he groans so carnally that Alfie feels his stomach lurch and his cock respond. He starts sucking as well as licking, sealing the entire loosened ring with his lips and flicking gently with his tongue. Tommy loosens up further — moans and pushes back — which just makes everything easier to reach, to admire. He delves as deep as he can with his tongue, intrigued by the feel of it, so tough yet so soft. He keeps stopping to look, pulling back and opening him before plunging back in with his mouth. Fuck, he is in awe, as usual, of how delightfully Tommy moves, intermittently bearing down and clenching up like he's drawing Alfie in.

The problem is that Alfie's neck his aching, and though he doesn't want to stop, not with every flinch and every quiver so delightfully on display, he knows Tommy's knees must hurt too. Not that Tommy's complaining, but then again he never does, even when Alfie hurts him. Which is what finally does it, forces him to make the move because he wants Tommy enjoy this too.  

"Upstairs. Now," he growls, pulling himself upright and slapping Tommy's arse for emphasis. They both move impressively quickly, fleeing the bath with a haste that showers water and soap over everything. The each grab a towel and head up the stairs, like children playing tag.

Once in his room, Alfie lays Tommy on his belly and stuffs enough pillows under his hips that he looks like a fucking invitation, perfectly positioned for Alfie to lick until his tongue burns from the exertion. Which is exactly what he does. He delves and circles and laps at that perfect pink ring like a tiger grooming its cub. Any earlier malady is forgotten in his hunger for every squirm and sigh and stifled moan from the man beneath his mouth. By the time he crawls up the bed Tommy's arse is so slick with drool that he doesn't even bother with oil; simply laces their fingers together as he lines himself up and presses relentlessly in. Tommy gasps as he's entered, arching rigidly against him, and making a high, shaky sound that turns Alfie's legs to liquid. When his full weight rests flat on Tommy's back he just waits, marvelling at how he can fit himself inside the taut little ring he's been licking. It doesn't look possible, and yet here they are, slotted so tightly together. When, after a minute, everything is quiet and utterly still he murmurs, "there we go," softly against the curve of Tommy's ear.

And then he fucks him, slow and heavy, like he wants him to feel every inch and every ounce, to understand the weight of his want. And when even that's not enough he wraps his arms under Tommy's chest and pulls him onto his side. Actions are easier than words for Tommy, he's learnt that much by now, so Alfie wraps him tight around the chest and fucks him till he's exhausted, till everything hurts. He presses their bodies so close together it's like he's trying to join them with pressure, to cold-weld them together. Tommy just lets him, shallows his breathing to compensate and lets Alfie fuck him senseless.

Only when he's trembling right on the edge does Alfie loosen the embrace, moving one hand down to stroke him thoroughly through it. Tommy comes with a sharp gasp of breath, which makes Alfie moan unabashedly — lost in the sight and the sound of Tommy letting himself go. He can't see his lovely face at this angle, but he knows that his mouth will be open, his eyes closed, his brow gently furrowed. He kisses the parts he can reach — ear, neck, shoulder, clavicle — so focused on those that he's not even thinking of his own climax, just pumping his hips on pure instinct, lost in the moment, until Tommy makes a strange whimpering sound and taps his arm frantically. And for some reason that brings him back, tips him over until he is coming too. "Fuuuck," he groans as he floods into Tommy, shuddering helplessly as he tries to hold still.

Tommy goes limp with relief, slumping drowsily onto his belly and Alfie moves heavily with him, arms still wrapped round his chest. They lie like that for several minutes, still stickily joined together. Tommy clenches once round Alfie's softened dick as it withdraws in a hot rush of slick. He seems half-asleep but still murmurs irritably at the loss, which makes Alfie want to kiss him all over again. He presses his lips to Tommy's back, smoothing a hand down his side, pausing to pull the sheets up slightly, before he starts to shiver. He sinks lower, kissing all the way down Tommy's spine to the small of his back, revelling in the smell of sweat and sex and Tommy. And affectionate as this is, his mind is being slowly overtaken by an obscene and confusing thought. He's mildly troubled by it (or more accurately, by what Tommy might think of it) but he'll find out soon enough because he's already shuffling down the bed, under the sheets, kissing as he goes. Tommy groans sleepily as Alfie pushes one of his knees up the bed and out of the way because he wants to look, to see where his cock has been, what it's done to that innocent pink hole. God, he can smell himself down here which surely has no business feeling so satisfying. He moves one hand to spread Tommy's arse and is vaguely aware of an irritable response, above the rushing of blood in his ears. "Alfie, what the fuck...?"

"Shhh," he soothes, before biting Tommy's arse-cheek gently, teeth clenching round the firm muscle. Then he pulls it aside, looking straight at the evidence of his defilement. He moans involuntarily, a sound that rattles in his aching chest, and runs one thumb up the cleft of that beautiful backside. Tommy's hand comes round to swat him, but Alfie just grips it easily and holds it in mid air. He is focused shamelessly on that glossy, wet passage — can't help but push his thumb back inside — just to see how easily it glides in now that he's fucked it open. He pumps a few times, insistent but gentle, watching the mess that drips out of him. It's impure and possessive and Alfie couldn't care less until Tommy frees his hand and grabs his hair and pulls him up the bed. "Fucking hell, Alfie," he sighs, which might mean he's cross or self-conscious. Or neither. He sounds more tired than anything. Either way, he escapes to the bathroom, leaving Alfie alone with his thoughts.

"Who else you done that for?" Alfie asks when Tommy slides back in beside him.

"What?" Tommy asks, frowning. "If you mean have I ever let anyone lick..."

"Not that!" Alfie laughs, he know enough to be sure that that was a first. "The other stuff. The bath and the hair and ... you know, the towel and that."

"Charlie," Tommy says, reaching over to the nightstand for his cigarettes. "He likes it when I do bath time. Ada, when she was a kid. Arthur was never interested in helping." He pauses as he lights the cigarette. "My mother... towards the end." He looks wistfully at the ceiling as he blows his smoke in the air. Alfie just stares at him, picturing all the things he's just said, thinking of all the things he doesn't know about Tommy. How that always surprises him.  "I can look after people you know," Tommy says, looking mildly affronted.

"Hmmm," Alfie says in a tone that sounds entirely unconvinced. "Just not yourself, eh?"

"Fuck, off," Tommy replies, but he doesn't actually deny it. He finishes the cigarette and turns to stub it out in the ashtray before pulling Alfie in close. It feels strange to be the little spoon, but Alfie goes with it, shuffling down under the covers. He's going to regret the exertion in the morning, he can already tell, his chest feels like it's filled with hot sand. He might have to hold onto that little brown bottle, without telling Tommy of course, because he did manage to forget feeling ill for a while. Bloody hell, what is happening to him? Fucking horse medicine. But he drifts into sleep happy and sated and to dreams that are filled only with stallions. Which wouldn't be his first choice, let's face it, but could be an awful lot worse.

[augustmomx573-blog]

The 12 Best best yard games  Accounts to Follow on Twitter

What Are The Best Backyard Games To Play This Summer ... - Some Vital Tips

The rules are similarjust shot to toss the ball into the cupbut you get three balls to pick from (little, large, and hacky sack) that will change up your strategy. It's a fun video game that the entire family can support. This set of horseshoes are safer and lighter than traditional sets.

How to Choose the Right Best Yard Games

Plus, customers state that the rubber mats on the stakes are heavy enough to not get carried away by the wind. It's a lighter option for those of us fretted about triggering mishaps in a heated game. Flickin' Chicken may be your new preferred video game. (Photo: Haywire Group) So, this game is funny.

The Top Details On The Best Outdoor Games For The Whole Family To Play

The goal of Flickin' Chicken is to flick rubber chickens onto a target. However these nasty bounce and roll around, so striking the bullseye isn't as simple as it looks. It'll have the whole household rolling with laughter. Classic or Bocce? Your option. (Picture: EastPoint Sports) Lawn darts are a more refined version of Flickin' Chicken, and it's very simple to set up.

The objective of the traditional variation is to toss the darts into circles whereas in the Bocce version, you're going to wish to get the darts as near the pallino as possible or knock out your opponents. Either game is challenging and fun for everyone. The product professionals at Reviewed have all your shopping requires covered.

What Are The Best Backyard Games To Play (While Social ... Info

Rates were precise at the time this post was published but might change gradually. Check out or Share this story: https://www. usatoday.com/story/tech/reviewedcom/2020/05/07/15-best-lawn-games-play-your-own-backyard/3091929001/.

Amazon's Option Original Disc Throwing Game Kan Jam amazon. com $39. 99 A busy flying frisbee game that'll get everyone's competitive side going, Kan Jam is easily portable and ideal for any outdoor space, consisting of yards, beaches, parks, and more.

Everything You Need To Know About 15 Best Yard Games That You Will Love To Play

amazon When the weather gets warm, who wishes to invest any time inside? In the warmer months, we're all aiming to determine methods to invest more time outside, be it through outdoor cooking, activities to keep the kids captivated, or games that you can use the yard (preferably one-handed, so you can hold your White Claw in the other).

A few of these take routine indoor games, like Yahtzee, Connect 4, or Jenga, and supersize them so you can play them in a backyard without needing to stress over losing any tiny pieces. Others are imports from all over the world, like the Italian activity of bocce, or the similar kubb, which hails from Scandinavia.

The Ultimate Revelation Of The Best Outdoor Games For Your Backyard While Social ...

( And, if you do play them every year, maybe it's time to trade in that old, cheapie set to something nicer?) Last however not least, there are higher-energy games like Spikeball, which aren't actually casual and definitely get the blood pumping. Have a look at our favorites below for concepts for new outside video games, methods to update your old favorites, and learn what the heck a Flickin' Chicken is.

The Top Information On Best Yard Games

com $46. 49 However, if you're just trying to find the quickie cornhole experience, this set does the trick. It folds down into a small bring case, which makes it the perfect set to bring to your getaway home. Best Cheap Adventure Backyard Video Game Flickin' Chicken Haywire Group amazon. com $21.

The Top Information On Best Backyard Games For The Whole Family - Style & Living

com $39. 99 Re-live your college years and hone your frisbee skills with this at-home Kan Jam set. You can choose for this original variation, or get the glow-in-the-dark set for nighttime enjoyable. Yardzee Yeah, it is essentially simply like Yahtzee, but everything is more fun when you can play https://bestyardgames.com/ it in the sunlight with oversize pieces.

com Bocce Hey! Play! walmart. com $44. 97 Bocce is a game that combines strength, strategy, and ability and yet is still able to be mastered by young and old alike. Groups take turns getting their balls near the pallino (small ball), and can attempt to knock their challengers out of the way.

The Ultimate Revelation Of 40+ Best Outdoor Games Ideas In 2020 - Outdoor Games, Yard ...

Excellent Video Game for Little Lawns Tic Tac Toss Brybelly amazon. com $39. 99 Think you've mastered Tic Tac Toe to the point where it's dull? Attempt this version, where you just get the square if you can effectively toss your pieces into it. Horseshoes St. Pierre amazon. com $65. 88 Developed by a champ horseshoe pitcher, the horseshoes in this set been available in a special shape and weight balance that makes for better gameplay.

Spikeball Spikeball amazon. com $59. 99 As seen on Shark Tank, Spikeball is a video game that includes slamming the balls down onto the bouncy web. Warning: This isn't the kind of lawn video game you can play casually with a beer in your hand you really get your heart rate up! Country Living Washer Toss Game Slick Woody's slickwoodys.

[theunnamedlizardrogue]

Side Story: Snakes’ Ship Shenanigans

The story? Again? That’s the third time this week, kid.

Eh, who am I kidding. I love telling it!

Right. So… twenty or so years ago, back in my pirate days, I was trying to catch up on my citrus when one of my crewmates burst straight through the door. Poor guy looked terrified, started cryin out that we were being attacked by a naval ship or something. It reminded me of the time that I was forced to swab the deck with a broken mop after tryin to snap it for a laugh, you shoulda seen the look on captain’s face after she…

Whaddya looking at me for? Oh right! The story. Anyway, he was saying that we were being attacked and I ran up on deck, at starboard was this giant ship, we were practically sayin our prayers at this point. We rushed to the cannons, but it was like flickin paper balls at a wall. This was the moment where our darlin’ cap’n ran out and shouted that we do the most suicidal thing yet.

We went at ramming speed and SLAMMED right into the boat. Splinters flyin out and screams everywhere. And that’s when we… Should be training right now, come on, put on your boots and let’s get outside.

Sigh Fine, I’ll keep goin, but only for a bit. Ain’t gonna pull crocodile tears on me.

So we were climbin up, the navy weren’t particularly pleased about this. They knew what was happening and they figured with all their fancy training and equipment, they’d be able to take on this small group of pirates. They were wrong. We’d been fightin for hours, cutlass against cutlass, men cryin for their missus. And that’s when this old soldier came runnin at me, while I was fightin off two lads. He almost cut straight through me, but our master gunner came fighting in at the last second. If it weren’t for him, I’d be dressing at davy jones’ locker right now. I owe my life to the guy.

…

What? Nah, kid. I’m alright.

End of the day? Ya could say we got an upgrade. I rowed back in this tiny rowboat they had and met with the captain back on deck as the men were celebrating with cheers and grog.

She then told me that she hatched this new plan. From these dragons from up north getting killed and all. With dragonborn being released from slavery. I remember being…

Nah, that’s all you’re gettin. You gotta get back to your work, we’re practicing more climbing today. I just gotta write a letter first.

Who’s it for? Eh, it ain’t important. I just remembered something so I figured it’d be useful in the future. Go on, books, I’ll see ya in a bit.

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

Rules Of The Road

💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙💜💙

"Y/n/n, really? We're like 10 minutes from the hotel. Can't you wait, pretty girl?" Chris pleads as he steers with one hand and reaches out to grab both my wrists to stop my hasty attempt at opening dress pants. His sexy ass is staring intently at the road ahead trying to get us back to our room safely but I'm not havin it tonight. I'm not waiting this time. I lean forward from my seat to whisper against the shell of his ear.

"Come on Christopher, I just wanna see you cum for me." I say seductively before flickin the tip of my tongue against his ear, then down to his sensitive neck. I give him a few wet kisses as I feel his grip on my wrists loosen. His head tilts a bit, giving me more room to suck and lick, eyebrows drawing together as he tries to concentrate on the road. I can see his dress pants tent as his big dick tries to bust outta them.

"Fuck, baby, please. I can barely concentrate now." He admits as he puts his other hand back on the wheel.

"I'll make it sooo good Chris. Don't you wanna feel me caress those fat full balls? I know you gotta big load for me to swallow huh?" I guess. I watch as the fingers I want stuffed inside my wet pussy tighten around the steering wheel.

"Y/n.." he trails off warningly.

"What, don't you wanna cream inside my mouth, handsome?" I ask alluringly, one hand on his thigh rubbing dangerously close to my target and the fingers of my other hand sliding across my pump lips before I slide the tip inside, making fuckin motions. I see him glance at me for a few seconds before groaning and resting his head against his seats head rest, eyes back on the road.

"Fuck!" He says loudly and I know he's made his decision. "Just.. Go slow.. I'm trying to get us back in one peice."

I say nothing, my hands already scrambling to pull him out his pants. No finesse, I raced to stuff him between my lips, taking him halfway down my throat before he could change his mind. I could feel the car jerk a smidge at my haste as he yelped and gripped my H/C hair tightly. 'Maybe slow is for the best' I think, not trying ruin his concentration.

"Christ, woman!" He exclaims.

I sink the rest of the way down slowly, letting my mouth salivate around him. I take a breath through my nose when I reach the thickness of his base. He smells so fuckin good. Without even thinking I moan out my pleasure of finally getting what I want and he's groaning back, at either the vibrations around his dick or my whore behavior, I wasn't sure.

"Damn, your mouth feels so good, you like when I fuck your throat where anyone can see huh?" He asks lewdly and I know he's about to become Daddy. His mouth always gets extra nasty when he's really about to get into it. I moan out my assent, continuing my tortuous slow pace on his dick. Up, down, up, down, up and a harsh suck on the sensitive tip of his dick.

"Ahh!! Do it ag-gain, baby." He stutters out, grip tightening in my hair. I do a long hard continuous suck and moan again at his rough treatment of my H/C locks.

"Fuck, oh fuck sweetheart." He moans out. He's a bit sweaty, head moving up and down to let his eyes dart from his dick in my mouth to the road. His shirt disheveled, the bottom of it growing wet with my saliva as I see a twitch in his thigh through his dress pants. I can feel him start to use my hair to push and pull me from the tip to the base of his fat dick. I look up from his lap to stare up at my fine ass man usin my mouth like a toy. He's moving me faster on him as I feel the car come to a stop at a red light.

"Uhn, uhn, uhn, uhn.." Each thrust punctuated by a helpless moan. "Dammit woman.. You ready t-to take it?" He asks, looking down at me. I nod, not daring to attempt to remove my mouth to answer. Not when I'm so close to my prize.

"Ahhh. Fuck, fuuuuck. Th-thats it, take it. S-so good." I hear him groan as he holds me down and shoots 5 heavy gushes into my mouth, the first going straight down my throat. But I'm prepared; I swallow around him as I watch him throw his head back with closed eyes and a furrowed brow, sexy ass cummin like a fuckin fountain. His chest heaves and he's twitching as makes me drink it all, though just a small bit spills from the corners of my mouth because of the volume.

He's still leakin in my mouth as I watch his head roll to the side and open his eyes, a look of surprise immediately slipping across his face as his hand still firmly holds me to his lap. He reaches to roll down his window. "I'm sorry, what was that officer?" He asks, still trying to catch his breath. My eyes widen as I try to move but he continues to hold me in place, his dick slowly softening.

"You alright there, you missed the green light.. And you look a bit sick." I can hear the officer say from his car.

"Thank you for your concern officer. Um.. Yes, my stomache is aching but my hotel is right there." I can see Chris point ahead. It's silent for a moment before I hear the cop respond.

"Alrighty, get there safely. Have a good night." He says, and I get a devious thought. I suckle around Chris' dick HARD and immediately feel him start to rise to the occasion.

"Th-thank you, O-oficer." He stutters out and I hear the police car drive away. Chris waits a few seconds before releasing me and accelerating.

"Just wait till we get to the room." He says lowly, and a see a small evil smile form on his sensual lips.

"Can't wait Daddy." I say as I look at the road, using my index finger and thumb to clean the cum from the sides of my mouth and suck them inside; I can hear him groan my name from next to me and smirk.

Request where chris gets a blowjob by his sweet and seductive gf, reader while he is driving the car home

Absolutely, this is something I haven't thought about yet so thanks for the fresh suggestion and it's an interesting scenario that already got me thinking.. I gotchu!

[huffmaster]

FLICKIN’ FOOTBALLS

the beat

Runnin’ up the wall, goin’ through the floor, sittin’ on the ceilin’ 

Thinkin’ the sky’s about to fall, christmas lights still on

Yule tide log, fannin’ the fire of confusion for us all

Stay inside just call, pick up N just go, visit gramps through the glass

No hugs just shrugs, elbows touch instead of hands

Deadlocked on a plan, while the hands, on the clock spin

Round N round N round, makin’ Life decisions, do I shop or do I not

Do I go to work today, am I gonna get my rent paid

No easy way to say, I’m jugglin’ it all on my brain

Gettin’ close to insane, this don’t seem like no game

I’d play if I could, layin’ in my bed, unable to sleep

Just tryin’ to take a nap, can’t hardly eat, feets

Gettin’ cold not knowin’ what to do, talk to who I can

Let um know here I am, flickin’ paper footballs at the wall

Writin’ stupid songs, wantin’ to be nearer to ya’ll 

Sayin’ stupid things, lookin’ for the play, laughin’ all the way

It’s touch and go, sanity a little hazy, blurry

Humor is like a merry goes, dreamin’ of livin’ life

Livin’ the make believe, shoutin’ “hello!” can you hear me

Doin’ the worm down the road, no one notices me

Is this Bizarro World, where up is down, social is

Anti, and I’m still pennnin’ to pad - man

       2.

Here I am leapin’ tall buildin’s, like I wear a suit

And a tie, but underneath is blue, draped in a cape

Feelin’ the great . - . ness, of speedin’ bullets unable

To catch my mind in Time, then I wake up again

Still playin’ checkers with myself, & guess what I’m winnin’

But you knew that, the streets emptyin’ with a quickness

We’re in a war, of the bore - dom, what the fuck we do now

Is this the end of Cable Guy, people startin’ readin’, paintin’ 

Learin’ cursive, I guess anything to keep the web, of anxiety

Away 6 feet may - be enough to stay, essential got a new

Meanin’, 600 dollars do too, like due to, in months time

You’ll be due 2, and a straight line is far off

Telescope says, eat more fortune cookies, stay out your head

Your Ramblin’ Rabbit, play go to bed, or words with friends

Better yet combine them, and just say we fucked the game up

What the hell was I doin’, oh yeah

Jump

Jump

Jump

King me

I win  

      Chorus 

All right hand wash break, put your masks down

I want you all to see the magic of a sanitize drop

Swish it round, warm your hands up, gouge that price up

Wal-mart, menards, Hero’s in our backyards, nurses, doctors

Grocery store workers, gas station clerks, etcetera stand up

While the rest file for, unemployment, what a terrible mess

What a terriblbe mess, what a terrible mess we’re in

Watchin’ the news has my mind racin’, facin’ the fight from afar

Wonderin’ when it’s gonna be outside my door, is my temperature 

Risin’, are my friends coughin’, how many are dyin’

In 24 hours cases are jumpin’, in my place bouncin’, dancin’

Learnin’ how to Dougie, flossin’ then the carlton, Soul Train

Linin’, lookin’ for the shinin’, foldin’ paper triangles to make

Balls aimin’ up the walls, goofin’ like a mememade man

Cloaked in a silk like clothe called happenstance, makin’ fish fried 

Shipments, glad I’m out of my apartment, smellin’ like coleslaw 

      Chorus 

[cre0n]

"DWAL SSAAY ELIHC LRUG WEHW" (My Pet Unpopulars Reversed)

"Time to be quiet"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZ0ECqMHfUQ

Prelude

Creon: First off rest in peace to this decade that got owned. From the phony fake feedback "they" have been reading this for the past several years and I can see people being bothered by it. It's nothing to do with a check or any type of fake fame from "them". I don't get paid for this or even have followers but guess who's reading it. Just think of it as a free schooling or in some cases pure sportsmanship. Where yall think all of that Rebel talk came from? Now all of a sudden a decade later everybody is Rebel this, going against the system that. Folks got Rebel Clothing lines, Rebel mentalities, and Rebellious attitudes. That's the pavement that was laid for you and you and every colored negroe that it meant something to. When your as powerful as this entity inside of my physical body the other side tends to tip their hand occasionally. I don't think "they" try to give it away it's just fear that drives them to surrender unwillingly. Ain't it amazing how some of the most powerful *people* in this Matrix will never make it to your TV screen or trendy news cast that entices humans so much. Could you be able to comprehend or fathom a supreme being that induces so much fear into the hearts of the most evil entities that dwell in this realm? That may be to much for a human to understand. That may even be hilarious to most simpletons but it's meant to draw the mind closer and it's working. The point of this is Top 50, Top 25, Top 5 whatever nobody is bringing the same substance, content, subject matters and skill all in one sitting. Where would your favorites be without the help? Would they even exist to you anymore? They need to piggyback the fame and media to be a dope somebody. You have a fresh start and don't have to do that. I myself don't even know what help is anymore and you should feel the same way. It's in the people to have that power and they should take it. Dumbasses, we don't live in the physical realm you wake up to everyday. The REAL is lived out in your mind. If you reincarnate on this planet after dying, YOU LOST THE GAME. Yes, some of us come here for a sole purpose with the intent of light bearing revelations....Then I think about things again and say maybe I shouldn't complain. Maybe I should just be flattered to say the least. Naw not this time fuck that. It's like one of the homies said, You Can Do All Things Through Christ Except Play With Me. What I'm doing and have been doing and already did is sculpting and designing a coded landscape typical to a highway for all of my "peers" in this so called "community" as grounds for their pitiful souls to maybe one day be spared. Even the jealous and cowardly ones that are the purest of maggots, the ones who try to block your very existence, or just flat out ain't shit know the end game. They even have to bend the knee.

"Spoken"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVijnZylMw0

1. Eye don't respect you and at the same time must protect you They swear this state that their mind is in equals revenue How you call it blessed when frequency filters through mess What is it n*gger you can't see or the fame is humanity's stress The North Pole with machine elves the holy grail My tree of life cannon ball into eternal wells Drink from our chalice the fountain  conception Stone Mountain His Russian time machine dream simply will not allow it A treasure chest no jewels to drop it's not for sale Forgot to reload my CERN account black Queens dwell in Hell Now you understand why EYE can't get signed Or go on tour for decades behind the black man's mind Let's overstand this sovereign case them people scared Came back to the planet ONE last time yall still unprepared

2. Wool robe eyes like the burning bush sandals bronze Magnetic field and aura like a lunar groupon Infinte is 8 we ate never ending planes Cut off by a cracked firmament our Summer's Gate reign Sea monsters like a Cripp by the Island of Thoth It's still moving yall still with me right?.... Cough Young brothas my Saturn Matrix black can't date no Iggy's They tryna turn Gibbs and Benny into new Pac's and Biggie Pay attention these folks is evil Dedication to easels.... draw

MJ KICK

"Model Duck Waddle"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=StNUu-ayD4Y

Hella yaass young mamas got a story to tell CreezyBae from Souf Kak and keep that A-T-L A heartless reinforcer, socery is an order Magic shows blow some smoke up ya butt with this quarter Nada no nothing so don't be posing & stuntin' Curriculum spins this axis so wtf is you askin'? Babe it can't be love, 'cause love  don't love a soul And all the likes and comments in the world gets old Now all you got in ya life that air mattress with the plastic cups That cash app still working don't it? Hit em up You selling selfies and an advantage time still passing Several years later recommended by the garbage tragic Been underground for decades it made me an animal That orange box cutter didn't come with no manual Annual, pussy makes the world go flat And plus we fuckin', don't do no homegurl chillin' jack (BIG FACTS)

.....(Shuckin' x Jivin')........

"The Roth"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFViVsYLK84

Eye swear to White God Eye love wasting humans time 7 summers later that dumb bitch God is a *crime* Pinot Noir and your whole outlook The way you teach the children, straight from a crackas book Yall slaves kill me with this top 5 bullshit The whole industry revolving door pulpits Talking bout they positive movements with negative fads Well tell the folks the whole truth you hypocrite scabs Let's pull the strings and the puppets out I don't even need the sticks Wasting time on the couch flickin' this BIC (5th bedroom) Eye love my brothers to death even wished them death (huh?) Now feel the release, illuminastic reps Get BIG nigga 500k nothing less Yes the FEDS watching 2012 InkTober droppin' Yeah yall wasting time repeat the Matrix get the grind? My peers once again 3D chasing bags Eye'm at the North Pole Holy Grail Tree of EVERLAST (punching bag) "Til this day" Creon built lanes even for trash Walking on the highway then loiter off the exit stashed

............ "that part cost" -Coach

Before you learn to win you need dimensional Facts Rule 1: The 5th plane is Universal crack Rule 2: The time machines run everything back Now the whole community is back on his sack Bar none with more bars and stars than an Admiral match it Enough lower back blows she need a flak jacket We know a Propain who got special stanzas trapmatic Lost tapes, still buried outlandish Ridiculous approaches got my yella ass banned (Red) Or am Eye, he too heavy banned to a skid crammed Jammed up at some port with no support scammed Seems like the customer got another custom plan With even more bars than an empty Fort Knox Pen carries weight like the sky blue Ox Or maybe it's a Bull, bullish trending up sell now The purgatory princess gets raped by their cash cow Sodomite Gentiles flag for jumping on the pile (my fault) The Kings circle of life Creon is Royalty Blacker than the thought of the roots of a Sequoia tree...

"You don't just Like"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poB4dtpTdLQ

Can't leave out the conscious folks on his way to 7 Creon stay jammin' harder than a Mac-11 Boppin' with that NoTep confidence From the old moon to Hapis stop your nonsense Masterful the pen glides prolific spill aesthetics   More Hennessy for Carolina Cardi twerk sessions Got crackas seeing red they hate the message Don't message me just tag it yellow trend your own blessings cave pathetics The rose bloomed solid gold it's stems were magnetic Thorns crystallized easter eggs they found a Holy relic Breaking Matrix codes exposing Lyor's racist ass said it Donate a dollar and help the black channel out reverend You love this world so much well try not to get me pissed From now on Eye'm coming after souls next level shit...

**Hook**

Slangin' yarn in the yard lets get back to positive "The left field neighbor is the hardest kid" Was the agrument convincing me to slaughter this & still ended up lonely cause' the targets split The youngins say "lit" the crop a Megan Markel wrist 50 niggas deep somebody wrist game dope Bruh Eye give the soldout hope Make a famous fucka have to cope With the bullshit around them straight smoke May the Lord Jacob guide Baphomet in his prime As the Sirius Avyon one Universal mind Co-exist on a platform without porn shine Los Santos musik "Shittin while we Flyin" Etheric values nigga, the fallen and the risen In God mode the affirmations of metaphysics.....

"Dreams Don't Exist"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gc2ge9degkI

Can we just accept the stars at night & how the vibration sound waves replicate light Is the speed of bright faster than a black idea Are my peers slow or simple just backed up fears Been droppin' content on 9/11's, 23's, and the 13's With more New Jack swings for gangsta leans She clappin' it with no jumping he blowing gangsta green Choreograph a whole dance routine Be on some happy shit hoes wanna say Eye'm mean Just don't wake me up walking dead heroin fiends Moving around the room fly girls and crush grooves Been a shadow all summer pullin' J-moves Eye'm smoking bomb ass weed feelin' crucial They made sidewalks for black frats the feelings mutual Eye'm getting stalked by some bomb ass coochie & some of them rich legit never been a groupie......

...... & if yall can't relate then sue me (500k)

"Normalize the knob...tf"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGlXCLQ9aIw

For the new 16 Creon charging 2 properties And this was just a temporary situation now pardon me That's just some little money, the prophecy They saying buddy there's no chance you son of a slut You son of a bastard, you son of a bitch, you son of a mutt Eye got an angel now Eye'm summing it up You son of that cut, you son of that step, you son of that raw We Suns of the 7 summers son of a pause.... .....Moving Islands of Thoth A moving violation will get your team caught The Summer's gate will get a sea monster for da free Lifetimes of limitless mastery Education,  the soul is sold separately They ran out of Isotol to stretch the peace The whole album ended ran out of doggystyle to stretch the grease Dumb lil boy this ain't no NBA Envy great, pay your fares then Camelot shares Run the highway like a state chair (votes) State of Emergency Profoundly unearthining The blackest clout to create words surfing on the nearest curb Lickin' souls like them lizards whether Eye'm slizzard or sober From Langford to the Boulder-crest up to Panola Teach my Sun don't be a slave, certified owners Initially lobbied for peace Mishaps happen summoning beast Iron throne let the Ice wall melt in the streets...

Peace

[hootywhom]

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

French Onion Burger, Triple Dog Dare and Cheesy Macaroni Bites Bring Bold Fall Flavors to Topgolf Las Vegas Football viewings also get elevated with a beer bucket special that’s flickin’ awesome 

LAS VEGAS – Sept. 30, 2019 – The weather is cooling down which means football, food and fun at Topgolf Las Vegas as they launch their fall seasonal selections menu. Available now, the new seasonal selections menu boasts recipes that highlight savory food items and cocktails with autumn-centric flavors such as cinnamon and caramel.

For added fun during football viewings, guests who order a bucket of six Miller Lites will receive a finger flick football board and can flick their way to an extra point for a chance to win a free seventh beer. The football boards are available all football season long. Guests must be 21 years or older to participate. For more information, visit www.topgolf.com/las-vegas.

Fall Seasonal Selections menu includes:

Buffalo Chicken Dip – shredded chicken, hot sauce, sour cream, green onion, garlic herb cheese, ranch, cream cheese, bread crumbs, cheddar, Monterey Jack and tortilla chips $12

Cheesy Macaroni Bites – macaroni, mozzarella, Monterey Jack, ricotta, parmesan, parsley, ranch, creamy tomato dipping sauce $10

Triple Dog Dare – three mini beef hot dogs: pimento cheese dog, cheeseburger dog and loaded tater tot dog $15

French Onion Burger – caramelized onions, gruyere, horseradish Dijon, crispy onions and pretzel bun $16

Maker’s Spiked Cold Brew – Maker’s Mark Bourbon, Tuaca Italiano Brandy, Bailey’s Original Irish Cream, Monin Vanilla, cold brew coffee and sweet cream $13

Fall ‘N’ Stormy – Casamigos Blanco Tequila, Myers’s Original Dark Rum, Monin Vanilla, grapefruit juice, lime, cinnamon, ginger beer and Angostura bitters $14

Frozen Orange Red Bull – Red Bull Orange edition, Pinnacle Whipped Vodka, Sprite, orange juice and garnished with an orange slice $15

Caramel Apple Mocktail – Monin Caramel, apple juice, ginger beer and sweet cream $6

About Topgolf Las Vegas Topgolf Las Vegas operates daily from 9 a.m. to 2 a.m. Bay pricing starts at $32 per hour for up to six players and varies depending on bay location and time of day. Nevada locals receive a 25 percent discount on bay time. General admittance into Topgolf is free of charge. For cabana and VIP reservations, please contact lasvegasevents@topgolf.com. For more information, visit www.topgolf.com/lasvegas or call (702) 933-8458. Follow Topgolf Las Vegas on social media at facebook.com/topgolflasvegas or @Topgolflasvegas.

About Topgolf Topgolf is a global sports entertainment community creating great times for all. With a worldwide fan base of nearly 100 million. Topgolf prides itself on its special blend of technology, entertainment, food & beverage, and the inherent good that can be accomplished when people from all walks of life come together. The original brand expression of this togetherness is the Topgolf venue. These multi-level complexes feature high-tech golf balls and gaming, climate-controlled hitting bays, a renowned menu, hand-crafted cocktails, corporate and social event spaces, music and more. The 56 U.S. venues, including four international venues, entertain more than 17 million Guests annually. Beyond the venues, Topgolf fits seamlessly into the lives of our engaged community with emerging brands such as Topgolf Swing Suite, a luxury simulator experience; Toptracer, real-time golf ball tracking as seen on television; Toptracer Range, bringing the tracing technology to driving ranges around the world; and WGT, the world’s largest digital golf audience. As a growing lifestyle brand, Topgolf has also launched new ways to engage and delight our Guests through original content series, pop up social experiences like Topgolf Crush, and through our Nashville concert hall, The Cowan. To learn more and join the fun, follow @Topgolf or visit www.topgolf.com.

The post French Onion Burger and Triple Dog Dare Highlight New Seasonal Selections Menu at Topgolf Las Vegas appeared first on PR Plus.

[katiecad]

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

French Onion Burger, Triple Dog Dare and Cheesy Macaroni Bites Bring Bold Fall Flavors to Topgolf Las Vegas Football viewings also get elevated with a beer bucket special that’s flickin’ awesome 

LAS VEGAS – Sept. 30, 2019 – The weather is cooling down which means football, food and fun at Topgolf Las Vegas as they launch their fall seasonal selections menu. Available now, the new seasonal selections menu boasts recipes that highlight savory food items and cocktails with autumn-centric flavors such as cinnamon and caramel.

For added fun during football viewings, guests who order a bucket of six Miller Lites will receive a finger flick football board and can flick their way to an extra point for a chance to win a free seventh beer. The football boards are available all football season long. Guests must be 21 years or older to participate. For more information, visit www.topgolf.com/las-vegas.

Fall Seasonal Selections menu includes:

Buffalo Chicken Dip – shredded chicken, hot sauce, sour cream, green onion, garlic herb cheese, ranch, cream cheese, bread crumbs, cheddar, Monterey Jack and tortilla chips $12

Cheesy Macaroni Bites – macaroni, mozzarella, Monterey Jack, ricotta, parmesan, parsley, ranch, creamy tomato dipping sauce $10

Triple Dog Dare – three mini beef hot dogs: pimento cheese dog, cheeseburger dog and loaded tater tot dog $15

French Onion Burger – caramelized onions, gruyere, horseradish Dijon, crispy onions and pretzel bun $16

Maker’s Spiked Cold Brew – Maker’s Mark Bourbon, Tuaca Italiano Brandy, Bailey’s Original Irish Cream, Monin Vanilla, cold brew coffee and sweet cream $13

Fall ‘N’ Stormy – Casamigos Blanco Tequila, Myers’s Original Dark Rum, Monin Vanilla, grapefruit juice, lime, cinnamon, ginger beer and Angostura bitters $14

Frozen Orange Red Bull – Red Bull Orange edition, Pinnacle Whipped Vodka, Sprite, orange juice and garnished with an orange slice $15

Caramel Apple Mocktail – Monin Caramel, apple juice, ginger beer and sweet cream $6

About Topgolf Las Vegas Topgolf Las Vegas operates daily from 9 a.m. to 2 a.m. Bay pricing starts at $32 per hour for up to six players and varies depending on bay location and time of day. Nevada locals receive a 25 percent discount on bay time. General admittance into Topgolf is free of charge. For cabana and VIP reservations, please contact lasvegasevents@topgolf.com. For more information, visit www.topgolf.com/lasvegas or call (702) 933-8458. Follow Topgolf Las Vegas on social media at facebook.com/topgolflasvegas or @Topgolflasvegas.

About Topgolf Topgolf is a global sports entertainment community creating great times for all. With a worldwide fan base of nearly 100 million. Topgolf prides itself on its special blend of technology, entertainment, food & beverage, and the inherent good that can be accomplished when people from all walks of life come together. The original brand expression of this togetherness is the Topgolf venue. These multi-level complexes feature high-tech golf balls and gaming, climate-controlled hitting bays, a renowned menu, hand-crafted cocktails, corporate and social event spaces, music and more. The 56 U.S. venues, including four international venues, entertain more than 17 million Guests annually. Beyond the venues, Topgolf fits seamlessly into the lives of our engaged community with emerging brands such as Topgolf Swing Suite, a luxury simulator experience; Toptracer, real-time golf ball tracking as seen on television; Toptracer Range, bringing the tracing technology to driving ranges around the world; and WGT, the world’s largest digital golf audience. As a growing lifestyle brand, Topgolf has also launched new ways to engage and delight our Guests through original content series, pop up social experiences like Topgolf Crush, and through our Nashville concert hall, The Cowan. To learn more and join the fun, follow @Topgolf or visit www.topgolf.com.

The post French Onion Burger and Triple Dog Dare Highlight New Seasonal Selections Menu at Topgolf Las Vegas appeared first on PR Plus.