#sleep toke live
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lost my artheist status today to this creachur
#also spent too much fucking money at the merch stand jesus christ#“obtain” YEA SURE HOPE I DID#but fuck it we ball#sleep token hamburg#hamburg ritual 2024#sleep token ritual#sleep toke live#vessel#sleep token hamburg 2024#sleep token hamburg ritual 2024#eli has a life
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I want a stoner enby to keep as my well-fed house pet.
Of course it wouldn't start that way; after numerous dates and them quitting their dead-end job it just kind of happened. But they don't need a job anymore. I provide for all their needs and desires, no matter how hedonistic they get. I'll enable them as they slowly lose their healthy routine. Slept in instead of going on their morning run? That's okay, I made them breakfast in bed. Got too high and couldn't go to the gym? It's no big deal. Relax on the couch, put on a movie, and I'll make them a snack.
They start waking up later, spend the day constantly high off their ass being a couch potato, staying up late taking bong rips and snacking while I sleep. Passing out on our bed with cookie crumbs and chocolate all over their hands and face. I wake up before them to find wrappers and empty plates on their nightstand.
They get lazier, asking me to put in a mini fridge by the TV in our bedroom so they don't have to go to the kitchen. They ask me to cancel their gym membership. They go from wearing cute coordinated loungewear to old tank tops and stained sweatpants. They let their hair get greasy. They smoke, toke, and eat as much as they can every day. Every evening I'll come home to a hotboxed house and them glued to the couch in a haze. Their eyes are glazed over and half-lidded. A blanket poorly disguises the hand that's playing with themself. Their other hand is preoccupied with a jelly donut.
On the weekends I feed them edibles and dab rips until they're so stoned they can't move and can barely speak. I keep feeding them edibles on an hourly basis to maintain their insane high for 48 hours. Of course I take care of them when they're baked out of their mind. I feed them their favorite munchies and make them plenty of hydrating drinks. They stay in bed all weekend, letting me feed and smoke them up.
It's been a few months since they moved in. My pothead is growing a little potbelly. Between increasing their capacity and being baked 24/7, their gut started to work with a mind of its own. They start to shuffle around in the middle of the night, making themselves a big meal when they should be sleeping. They order meals delivered during the day that could serve eight people as a meal for themselves. They said they needed to drink three pints of melted ben and jerry's ice cream to satisfy their cravings.
Their belly grows bigger, forming a blubbery ring of love handles above their soft rear. Since giving up physical activity altogether their body has become softer and weaker. Not to mention their intelligence slipping away from constant weed consumption and trashy tv and video games. They stop shaving their hair and opt to shower and change their outfit once every few days. I would often come home to the living room being a mess of food and drink containers. I come home and give them everything they desire from me. They're the perfect stoned potbellied pet.
#wg story#queer feedism#slob kink#weed intox#stoner feedee#intox feedism#weed kink#queer feeder#queer feedee#nb feedee#wg text#wg k!nk#feedee encouragement
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Bg3 blunt rotation headcanons:
Karlach: does not stop fucking laughing. She’s def wheezing at a joke she overheard in a lesbian bar three and a half years ago while in the middle of a sentence. The type who starts a story and ends up laughing so hard she can’t finish it.
Halsin: mellow as hell, is always encouraging the group to go for a nice walk somewhere while stoned to shit. Will he pass out or will he be caressing the flowers in his backyard? No one knows.
Shadowheart: Sis is asleep after a joint or a few hits from the bong. Is likely sleeping on Lae’zel’s shoulder with a blanket around her. We love her for that tho bc she looks so cute.
Jaheira: she is forreal trying to tell you that we’re all living in someone’s sims save or how aliens made the pyramids. Also always pulls up to the session at the most random times.
Lae’zel: when she does smoke she usually ends up tripping the fuck out and is staring at the wall like a dog that’s accidentally eaten an edible. Doesn’t partake anymore but will come and chill and act as Shart’s personal resting post.
Astarion: the one who is chatting the most shit, probably has the joint in a cigarette holder like curella de’vil. The main source of Karlach’s laughter. Is also constantly asking for Nicki Minaj songs to be added to the Spotify queue.
Wyll: straight up vibes, is probably hogging the snacks to himself tho but he’s busting jokes and laughing with Karlach about stupid shit
Gale: the person in charge of the playlist and the only one who can actually roll. He is very particular about the music bc he believes it sets the mood for the high. Is constantly denying Astarion’s request to play Chun li but puts on random shit like khazakstani jazz
Minthara: enabling Astarion’s shit talking and spilling the piping hot tea. The least faded out of all of them (except lae). Has a screenshot folder that she shows astarion so they can be shady.
Aylin: she’s productive when she’s stoned, is likely cooking something or has gone for a jog/ doing a task while wearing her socks/ Birkenstock combo
Isobel: the mom friend who is making sure everyone is drinking water and is getting fresh air while fried.
Withers: the za dealer. You have to go to his house and he only sells a min of 6gs at a time. Usually chilling and trying to hide his weed plants from the cops bc his neighbours are snitches ngl
Minsc and boo (sry I be forgetting): Brings his hamster to the function bc he doesn't want him to be lonely and believes that his best bud deserves a toke as well. Boo is a literal fucking menace and bites those who object to giving him any. There is literally always an argument bc of this but Minsc is ready to fight for his child.
#before you ask yes im high as shit while writing this#bg3#baldur’s gate 3#shadowheart#halsin#karlach cliffgate#minthara#lae’zel#astarion#gale waterdeep#wyll ravengard#jaheria#dame aylin#bg3 shitpost#shitpost#headcanon#bg3 withers#bg3 companions#tw drugs#tw: weed#Minsc#Minsc and boo
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Nik turns 50. TF 141 throw him a surprise party. (As the author continues to build their voices and headcanons in his head.)
cw: none.
“I can't believe Nik’s going to be fifty next week. The man's aging like a fine wine. It must be something in the water over there.”
It had been a fairly innocuous comment by Laswell over one of their frequent phone calls, but it had sent Price into an unfathomable tailspin.
Fifty.
Fifty was a big birthday where Price came from. The kind where the extended family, and wider community around them, were invited to a village hall for an old fashioned knees up, and you ended up carrying your uncle Rodney home so your aunt didn't smother him with a throw pillow after he pissed all over the doorstep.
Price had never really thought much about the families and wider lives of his contacts. They got the job done and then they parted ways. In every sense, a contact held the same position in Price's mind as the weapon in his hand; a tool to be used and then set aside once you were done.
But Nik… Nik was becoming more than a contact. A lot more. Price knew there was no uncle Rodney for Nik. There was no family whatsoever. No one special to mark half a century with, except maybe… fuck.
Price didn't share scotch with just anyone, let alone pass his cigar over for them to take a toke. As much as he respected Laswell, he was never inclined to spend hours with her chattin’ shit, until the sun broke through the blinds and they both had to slam some black coffee so they looked remotely presentable for their operators. His hand never lingered on anyone else's carrier vest, and no one else's voice made warmth and light curl in his chest.
No one else slotted against Price's... everything quite like Nikolai.
Price wasn't stupid. He knew what these signs meant, but that didn't mean he had any idea what the fuck to do about them. It was safer to just… be, too cowardly to progress any further. And yet, this felt like a milestone somehow.
“Captain, are you there? John?”
“Rog, yeah… uh. Continue.”
By the time Price had hung up, he had resolved to do something to mark Nik’s birthday. Laswell had coughed up the exact date and then slyly asked why Price was so interested. Her tone suggested she already had a hunch. “141 tradition,” he'd said, before hanging up. Rude, but she'd cope.
He finished some paperwork and turned in for the night, but sleep didn't come easy. His plans played out across the dark ceiling above his head and each time he settled on a course of action, he picked a hundred holes in it and cast it aside.
“Buy him a bottle of vodka and put a bow on your prick,” Simon said over eggs and bacon. The majority of the base was still asleep, with only a few other troopers skulking around the canteen.
Price choked on his gulp of tea and thumped his chest. “Classy, Simon.”
“You’ve been dancin’ round each other for years,” Simon murmured, rubbing at the stubble below the line of his mask. “Best time as any to pull the trigger.”
“Pot. Kettle. Black,” Price said as he stabbed at the bacon on his plate to emphasise each word.
“Fuck off,” Simon grumbled, “sir.”
Price snorted a laugh and they finished the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence. After a session in the gym, a myriad of brain-numbing meetings and supervising some training runs, Price was no closer to shaking out of his decision paralysis. If they were on mission he could have hashed out a plan without taking a breath, but he… didn't want to fuck this up. It felt too important.
Price was left with no choice but to consult professionals.
“Surprise party,” Soap said gleefully, chucking his playing cards onto the coffee table. “In th’ hanger, we invite him over tae ‘discuss an op’,” Soap lifted his fingers to emphasise the spoken quotation marks, “get Laswell tae send the invite.”
Gaz nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, then he won't suspect anything - oh, oh, I've got Farah's number, we can get her in on it. She’ll know if he’ll want anyone else, and… uh, you know, we’ll get clearance.”
“Right,” Price leaned back, arms folded over his chest. “So, what… we need food, and cake.”
“Aye, sir,” Soap said, squinting. “And booze. Gaz an’ I'll sort the logistics, and ye jus’ need tae sort the pressie.”
“We’re on it, sir. Leave it to us.”
The present. Price could do that. No worries.
Two days later, he stared down at the forty item long Amazon wishlist he had titled “Operation Black Hawk” and had no idea what to get. Something that walked the line of funny but sentimental, that said ‘you’re hot as fuck but I'm not desperate but I absolutely wank over you in the shower’.
“Fuckin Christ,” Price whispered at this office ceiling, slouched deep in his chair. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to quiet but for thoughts of Nik. Think, think.
So many conversations, ice tinkling against glass, low chuckles and borish jokes; a warm palm on Price’s shoulder and a smile so toothy it was contagious. Endless memories of time at Nik’s side. There had been that summer Nik had come fishing with him. Just a few days of peace before they both returned to the field. Nik had snoozed through most of it, exhausted by their previous mission, but in between he had surveyed the lake, watching the insects flit across the water.
“Poprygun'ya strekoza, leto krasnoye propela,” Nikolai had murmured.
“Cursing my ancestors?” Price had asked before gulping down a mouthful of beer.
Nik had chuckled. “Nyet, captain. It means a playful prankish Dragonfly, the whole summer have sung out. It is a poem by Ivan Karylov. One of my favourites.”
“Yeah? What's it about?”
“It is a fable...”
“Oh bloody hell, not another Russian morality lesson.”
“Pssh, this is good one. You will like it,” Nik had sat up in his camping chair. “It is about a beautiful dragonfly who spends her summer dancing and resting, while the hardworking ant prepares. When winter comes, she begs the ant for help, but he refuses, because he worked hard and she did not.”
“Harsh but fair. Work hard, play hard, them’s the rules..”
“You see, I knew you would like it. You are an ant. You earn your rest. This,” Nik had gestured at fishing tackle, the camping equipment, and the lake, “is the fruit of your labour, and I am privileged to share it with you, my friend.”
“And I you, mate.”
They had knocked their bottles together and moments later one of Price’s reels had begun spinning out. By that point they'd drunk so much that landing the damn carp had left them both up to their knees in lake water, pissing themselves laughing on the bank. It had been both the worst and best fishing expedition of Price’s life.
Price opened his eyes in the present and grinned at the ceiling, digging his phone out of his pocket. He knew exactly what he was going to get Nik.
The rest of the week sprinted by quicker than a RAF pilot on his way to a champagne dinner, and before he knew it Price was standing on a rickety plastic chair hanging a bloody banner from a rusty nail high on the hanger wall.
“It's wonky, cap,” Gaz said just as Price was climbing down.
“I think you'll find your eyes are wonky, sergeant.”
“Of course, sir. I'll get that sorted.”
Price pressed his hands to the small of his back and glanced around at the preparations. The sergeants had done well. Soap had even managed to draft Simon in on the booze run and there was a healthy selection of spirits on the buffet table by the birthday cake. It was a Colin Caterpillar from Marks and Spencers, one of Nik's favourite shops to visit when he was in the UK, with a joke candle stuck in the top that he wouldn't be able to blow out. Soap's idea.
The majority of Chimera had turned up to mark the occasion, as had a few faces Price recognised from previous ops with other organisations and task forces. Soap had said a few didn't quite pass the bar for security clearance, which wasn't surprising.
It was just as Gaz and Soap were bickering over the playlist that they heard the telltale drum of helicopter blades beat overhead. “Places, places!” Soap crowed from the hanger door, slamming the lights off. Booted feet scuttled across the dusty floor to find hiding places behind the vehicles and crates stacked around the edges, and Price joined Soap by the door.
Several minutes passed, and then… “And you have no idea where the weapons store is?”
“None at all, Nik. Price should have more intel,” Laswell replied. She had rendezvoused with Nik in Germany as part of the plan. Her wife was currently squatting behind a crate with Gaz.
“I hope so or this will be a difficult mission.”
Soap was practically vibrating at Price's shoulder as Nik rounded the corner. He slammed on the lights and everyone erupted from their hiding places on cue. Price didn't miss how Nik’s hand dropped for his sidearm, his eyes blown wide.
“Laswell, what is–?”
“Happy birthday, Nikolai,” she said, walking by to plant a kiss on her wife's cheek.
“I–” Nik glanced around the hanger as he accepted hugs from Gaz and Syd, handshakes from others, still bewildered. “How–?”
“It was th’ captain's idea,” Soap said, jutting his chin at Price. “He told us ye were hittin’ the big five-oh, old man. Ye not gettin’ off that easy.”
“Here, drink,” Simon grunted, pressing a glass into Nik's hand. “I'm startin’ the food, Johnny. I've been patient.”
“Aye, L.T. Bust open th’ sarnies. Farah, th’ ones on the left are halal - aye, bet.”
Nik was drawn into conversation briefly and Price hung back, glancing at the badly wrapped parcel he'd stashed on top of an empty oil container. He was so focused on his internal misgivings that Nik’s hand on his elbow made him startle. “Oi, give me a bloody heart attack…”
“You did this?”
“MacTavish and Garrick did this,” Price said.
Nik, who knew that the 141 did nothing without Price's express permission, grinned toothily. They stood in silence as he surveyed the many faces scattered around the hanger, some shoving sandwiches in their faces while others swigged from freshly open bottles. “I… have never had a birthday party before.”
“What? Not even as a kid?”
Nik shrugged one shoulder. “Nyet, it was not a… priority.” He looked back at Price, dark eyes heavy with something complex and unreadable. “Thank you.”
Price swallowed and tried to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. “You're uh… you're welcome, I… got you something. But, uh…” Before he could wuss out, Price grabbed the poorly wrapped parcel and shoved it into Nik's hands. “Happy birthday.”
Nik set his glass aside. “Your wrapping skills are…”
“Bloody fantastic.”
“...unique.”
“I'll take it.”
Nik huffed a laugh as he tore the brown paper away and flipped the book over in his hands. Price was relieved to see his face brighten. “Aesop’s fables. Captain, this is beautiful…”
To be fair, it was a damn pretty book. The hardcover was illustrated with the animals from the fables, the pages edged in gold, and the inside cover was patterned. You know… posh. And then Nik found the second part, tucked about a quarter of the way through. It was a photograph from their fishing expedition. A rough selfie, with half a fish head in shot where Nik was trying to display their catch, and Price’s face smeared with mud from where he had stumbled onto the bank.
Nik's eyes lingered on it, his fingertips brushing over their grinning faces, and he swallowed.
Price panicked. “I'm sorry, it's shit, I'll uhm–”
Nik pulled him into an embrace that crushed the air from his lungs. There was definitely a stutter in Nik’s chest, and Price wrapped his arms around him in return. If he happened to turn his nose into Nik's neck, and Nik happened to press his face a little closer, then that was fine. More than fine.
Price's toes curled in his boots, his fingers tightened in Nik’s shirt, the aching in his chest becoming that much harder to ignore. “You alright?”
“Da,” Nik said tightly. “I just need a minute.”
“Take all the time you need,” Price murmured, closing his eyes as he cradled Nik against him. He didn't mark the time, happy to revel in the warmth of the solid body in his arms, and the smell of Nik's skin, pressed so close Price could feel the thrum of his heartbeat.
When Nik finally pulled away, slightly reddened eyes lingered on Price’s lips before turning to the rest of the party, who were doing a shitty job of pretending they hadn't all been watching. “Later, I would… like to spend some time with you.”
Price didn't want to examine the heat under his skin too closely, lest it be entirely misplaced. “Course.”
“Nik, get over ‘ere tae blow th’ oot before Ghostie eats yer cake’s face!”
Nik tucked his book under his arm and walked over to the buffet table with Price to a horrifically off-key rendition of ‘happy birthday’. Once Nik had worked the candles out, flicking them at Soap with a loud Russian cuss, festivities descended, as they usually did on base, into raucous drinking games and whatever the sergeants decided passed for dancing. Simon lost the Ring of Fire and had to down the filthiest pint Price had ever seen in his life, Laswell thrashed them all at beer pong and Gaz tried to teach Farah how to do the worm. As far as fiftieth birthday parties went, it definitely beat out the village hall knees up.
Later, when the majority of the party had slunk off to dark corners, fallen asleep where they sat or retired in good order, Nik pulled his captain back into his arms and kept him there until the sun rose. Except, this time, they did a damn sight more than talk.
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A Job Well Done
pairing: Arthur Morgan x reader (f) word count: 4944 words warnings: 18+ minors dni, sexually explicit, oral (f giving), rough oral, a little choking, a touch of voyeurism, explicit language, it's pretty much a blowjob fic authors note: idk what to say... this started as a little drabble because me and my fiancé love having a little smoke together at night and.... well, here we are I guess?? i hope you enjoy you lovely lot, and if you've asked to be tagged and you're not please let me know!! I have a new system for keeping track of my taglist and I may have lost some requests in the transfer
taglist: @cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries @delilah-grimes @mrsarthurmorgan7 @twola@the-marsh-harrier @wildfloweroutlaw @photo1030 @luvliewriting@pine4pple-b0i *if i've missed you please let me know!!!*
You pull Arthur’s jacket tighter around your shoulders, settling into the old wooden chair while it creaks beneath you. Thanks to being in the middle of the Lemoyne swamps, it isn’t too cold despite the moon hanging so high in the sky above you, the jacket is more for comfort. From where you sit, you can see near the whole camp, watching lanterns flicker off incrementally as each member of your makeshift family retires for the night. A few of the boys stay up, drinking by the fire, their voices muffled and distant in the thick air.
It’s been a week to the day since you last saw Arthur, before he left to track a rather sizable bounty down and attempt to cushion out the camp funds, and God do you miss him. The days feel so much longer, nights so lonely you’ve considered saddling up and finding the bastard yourself just to bring him home sooner. Comfort can be found, though, in the ways Arthur’s presence has bled so deeply into your life that his physical being doesn’t even need to be here.
His smell lingers on the jacket he left (the one he wore every day before he had to leave just so you could wear it when you missed him), that perfect mix of tobacco and whiskey and something so ineffably Arthur that you soak up every time you wrap it around your frame.
He’s there in the routines you've built your lives around, intertwined as they are, the ones you can’t shake even if he’s not beside you. The cup of coffee in a morning, his so much better tasting than yours but you try anyway. The first morning after he left, you made two, ending up giving the extra to a very grateful Abigail to save face.
There’s a nightly routine, too. The one where you get ready for bed, then climb through the window to meet him on your balcony. He’s always there waiting with a cigarette hanging from his lips, patting his lap ready for you to crawl on. He’ll drag a match across his boot, (or sometimes the bottom of yours, if you’re still wearing them) lighting up the smoke before handing it to you. You’ll pass it between each other, catching up on your days, limbs entangled just how they should be as you watch Shady Belle fall asleep around you.
Without him, those routines bring you comfort, grasping onto the remnants of your cowboy until his safe return. That’s why you’re sitting in this spot, pulling a cigar out of the little tin stash box Arthur left behind. Normally it’s just a cigarette, you could never survive a cigar a night and have the throat to tell the tale, but there’s something inexplicably Arthur about this brand of smokes, something you’re seeking tonight.
You pluck a match from the tin, striking it against the table beside you, never having gotten the knack of igniting the thing on your boot as effortlessly as Arthur does, and light the cigar between your lips. The all-familiar woody essence dances across your tongue, your tired muscles relaxing from the first few tokes.
It’s just you, the moon and the crickets as you sit on the balcony, Arthur’s smoke between your lips. You wonder what he’s doing. He should be sleeping, but knowing him he’s probably up planning, or doing exactly what you are right now. You pray he’s safe, hasn’t been gotten by the law or worse, gotten himself killed. You can’t let yourself even think about that, the very idea bringing a tremble to your limbs. To combat the sudden spike in anxiety, the next time you bring the cigar to your lips you drag in just that bit more smoke, letting it soak down your spine. Not nearly as experienced in smoking as Arthur, you cough a little, but you recover much quicker than you used to.
Memories of that first time, of Arthur offering you the little brown stick and you nervously nodding, bring a little smile to your face. Oh, how you spluttered, Arthur giving you his drink on instinct, only realising that the whiskey burn would do the opposite of help once it was too late. You’d have been in your right mind to be embarrassed as hell, but by the way he chuckled as he rubbed circles around your back told you that he found it nothing but adorable.
You sit there for a few minutes, basking in the precious peace so seldom found nowadays and taking a drag every now and then, the smoke riding a sigh from your lips. Your eyes slip closed, trying to shut off as many senses as you can to really connect with that smell and taste, imagining him emerging from your bedroom window to be here with you.
He’s much less graceful than you are, often catching some part of his person on the windowsill when he climbs out onto the balcony. So many nights spent patching up little holes in his pant legs, right where that out sticking nail used to be in the frame before he ‘bested it in combat’ (i.e. pulled it out with a hunting knife and threw it ceremoniously in the lake).
Manifestation is a powerful tool, you’ve always believed that, but you still nearly jump out of your skin when you feel a large hand grasp your shoulder just as you imagined, Arthur’s gruff, hushed whisper tickling the words “hey, sweetheart” into the skin of your neck. It takes you a second to catch your breath, heart racing from the shock before everything registers and reality sets in.
“Arthur?”
He’s here.
“C’mere, darlin’.”
You fly out of your seat, the rickety old thing nearly splintering under the force, launching yourself into his open arms to burrow yourself into him. Every part of him consumes your senses and you drink it all in like an addict. The smell, the real thing, much more of that Arthur essence than the whiskey or cigars, probably because he forewent breaks in his journey for those little pleasures to get back to you sooner.
He seems to be taking you in as much as you are him, inhaling long through his nose and sighing it out contentedly, feeling whole again after so long without you in his arms.
“I missed ya’, beautiful.” He says softly into your hair, holding you tight against him, his knuckles brushing up and down the small of your back through layers of clothes you’ve stolen from him.
“I missed you so much…” You mumble into his shirt, hardly able to breathe through the wall of hard chest muscle you’re pressed against, caring even less.
It’s only then do you remember the cigar, forgotten and abandoned, smoking away on the table propped up on a jar lid turned makeshift ashtray. Most of the boys don’t bother with one, and neither did Arthur, until a fateful night a few months before you started dating when you first handed him the jar and told him you read something about birds and rabbits eating the butts of cigarettes. He kept the little piece of junk right next to his bedside, waiting for you to find it after that first night together.
Arthur spots your momentary pull of attention, pulling his chest away to raise a brow down at you with a little chuckle rumbling his chest.
“Having a fancy smoke of a night, are we?”
A cheeky little smirk- Arthur’s favourite, actually- tugs at the corner of your lips, waiting patiently for him to kiss it away.
“The smell reminds me of you…” you play coy, earring yourself that kiss when Arthur lifts you up to his height, kissing you softly, letting his world and yours fall back into place together.
“Well I’m here now, angel. Wanna sit? Could do with a nice cigar with my girl to celebrate a job well done.”
You’re eager to nod, heart fluttering at the prospect of getting to sit with him and hear all about his trip. He untangles from you to sit down first, patting his lap for you to crawl into. You fit perfectly together (you should do, you were made for eachother), head resting on his shoulder, legs splayed over his thighs with your arm draped over his shoulder. The cigar has gone out, so Arthur strikes a match so expertly on his spurs before shaking it out and placing his hand on the small of your back for support. You lean into him, watching him take puffs of the cigar and feeling the tiniest bit of tension leave his joints. He looks so natural with a smoke between his teeth, commanding an air of power with each movement he makes. Smoking doesn’t suit just everyone, you think, but God, does it suit him.
“We’re celebrating? You got the bastard, then?”
“Sure did,” he says, smoke spilling from his lips with each syllable. Arthur looks you over again, drinking in the dearly missed view, before kissing you on the forehead and flipping the cigar between his fingers to offer it up, “Eventually found him up in Fort Brennand, but he weren’t alone. Nearly lost a damn eye, but luckily only Woffard had to be brought in alive, so I dropped the other bastards and ran.”
You hang on his every word, your hero. You know he’s downplaying the fight, the danger of it all, but he does it so that you don’t worry every time he’s gone. It never works, and you always do, but you love him for trying.
“Oh, Arthur, I’m so glad you’re alright…” You coo, pressing a hand to his cheek, feeling the weeks worth of stubble scratching against your palm. He nuzzles into your touch, not unlike a cat, and your find yourself keeping your hand there to mindlessly play with his hair, tipping his hat off to put on your own head. He chuckles, reaching to adjust it on you.
“Course I am, couldn’t leave you here all alone with this buncha’ fools, could I? Besides, someones gotta bring home the bacon around here, and you know Marston’s too trigger happy to bring a bounty in alive.”
“So you got the full price?” Your eyes gleam, the proudest smile on your features as Arthur nods and shifts both your weights for a moment to pull out a stack of bills and smack them on the table dramatically.
“You’re damn straight I did, baby.”
Of course he did. Arthur never fails, and God knows how much the camp needs this right now, freedoms diminishing by the day as Dutch makes more enemies and plans jobs that just seem to keep going wrong. But you don’t want to think about that right now. Right now, there is only you and Arthur, and the promise of a whole night spent with him uninterrupted. You hand him the cigar back, along with a stolen kiss, and he takes another mesmerising drag. The way he holds it, every so often tipping the ash into the first gift you ever gave him, it does things to you that you just can’t explain. It’s just a cigar, and yet you’re pressing your thighs together tight to futilely subdue the tightness coiling between them.
“I’m so proud of you… I always am.” Unkempt locks of hair are twisted between your fingers, your face so close to Arthur’s you can pepper his cheek, temple and lips, whenever not occupied, with little kisses, Arthur’s hat sometimes tipping up against his forehead on your head. The two of you are always like this after a few days apart, unable to get enough of each other or keep your hands off one another. You shift your weight to access him better, catching his bottom lip between your teeth to press a long, tender kiss there. He hums under you, hand splaying under your jacket to grasp at your shirt. It’s seconds before you feel it, that hardening that nudges up against your thigh, prodding and reminding you just how much Arthur has missed you.
You pull away from the kiss, just enough to raise a teasing brow at how sensitive your cowboy is to your touch. He shrugs, unashamed, with that cheeky grin and those glistening eyes directed right at you.
“What? I missed ya…” His words are accompanied with a pinch of your ass, which makes you writhe on top of his stiffness, the friction dragging a low growl from deep within his chest.
“I can see that, cowboy… I missed you too. I missed you more.” You emphasise, nipping at his lip again and splaying your fingers across his chest. He rises to your touch, and you feel him stiffen more so under you. It takes a second of manoeuvring, but you’re soon straddling him, hovering above him like the angel he sees you to be. From this angle, with the moon behind you, you’re glowing.
“You absolutely did not, you little siren…” He growls again, pulling at the flesh of your ass so that you’re grinding against him, the friction of denim against denim igniting you both and burning so wonderfully.
“Oh, yeah? I can prove it.” There’s a little cock of your head, a raise of one teasing brow as you start to slide off him. He looks confused, disappointed, even, until your knees rest on the planks of wood on the balcony floor and he instinctively spreads his legs to give you the space between them. Your fingers splay across his thick thighs, and they tense under your touch, as does Arthur’s jaw. He’s starved after a week without you, clearly trying to reign in a control he’s struggling to possess. There’s no wonder, having his girl knelt before him like this.
“You wanna take this to the bedroom?” He growls out, abandoning the still smoking cigar in the jar lid. You look up at him, peeking out from under the rim of his hat.
“No.” You reach for the cigar, taking a few drags yourself before flipping it in your fingers just like he did and placing it between his teeth, “Finish your smoke.”
A distant laugh captures Arthur’s attention for a second, reminding you both just how close you are to the other gang members. You’re somewhat hidden by the railing, but if they looked in your direction, Arthur is fully visible from the chest up. A simple bob of your head- and you’re planning on plenty- would bring you into view.
The look Arthur gives you when he quickly diverts his attention back from Marston and the others is downright feral, especially when your hands reach for his belt buckle. Nimble fingers make quick word of the obstruction, and you’re soon pulling Arthur’s thick, long length out from his jeans. He groans at your very touch, involuntarily bucking his hips up into your hand.
You laugh, the sound a tempting little giggle as you tell him “Patience, cowboy…”
He almost snarls in response, clearly having been goddamn patient enough over the last week where all he could do is fuck himself with your name on his lips and the thought of you knelt just like this between his legs at the forefront of his mind, always.
Just as you lean in, when your soft lips trace over his rosy, swollen head, he pulls you back by plucking his hat from atop your head and throwing it to the side. He rests the cigar between the fingers of his free hand to free his mouth to speak to you.
“Need to see you while I fuck that pretty little moutha’ yours, angel…”
His words soak through you (and soak you through), and you just can’t wait a second longer, needy to have his cock deep down your throat, desperate for the burning of your lungs and the stinging in your eyes when he loses that control he so often vehemently clings to.
Unable to wait a second longer, you run your tongue from base to tip, feeling every vein pulsing under your muscle and eliciting a deep groan from Arthur. When you finally take him in your mouth, his hand reaches to cup your cheek, following you down as you take as much of him as you can.
“Fuck.” He groans, fingers reaching to tangle in your hair, scratching at your scalp. He’s probably louder than he should be, your eyes flickering to the general direction of the others as a warning, but they soon snap back to your cowboy, an intense eye contact burning at your skin as the head of his cock bumps the back of your throat. Arthur never takes his eyes off you, guiding you up and down his length and bringing the smoke to his lips. The tip of the cigar flares a deep, fiery orange, and smoke billows from his mouth with each laboured breath you coax from him. The way he’s sitting, fingers of one hand pulling at your hair, controlling your movements, and the other limply holding the smoke, he exudes a power many seek to master but never quite get. It makes your heart swell and your cunt throb for him, knowing on your knees before him is the only place you ever want to be, knowing only you inhabit it.
You can taste Arthur, his salty essence leaking from the pure ecstasy you’re providing and spit pools in your throat, mixing with it and dribbling down your chin. Arthur catches it with his thumb, guiding you off his cock to push the digit into your mouth and let you suckle from it. You do, hungrily, adjusting on your knees to better take Arthur deep down your throat and-
“Arthur! That you?”
Marston.
For eyes widen at each other, Arthur instinctively pushing you a little lower by your shoulder to keep you out of sight. John hasn’t seen you, and you’d like to keep it that way, being in the incriminating position you are between Arthur’s legs.
You spot the irritated sigh, the twitch of Arthur’s jaw as he plasters a fake friendliness onto his features and peers over the balcony to see his brother standing on the clearing below.
“Sure is. Whatchu’ want?”
Straight to the point.
“We didn’t hear you get back. How long’ve you been here?”
All that tension you’ve worked so hard to dissipate comes back to Arthur’s form with a crashing force. You can almost hear his plea for just one second a’ goddamn peace, merely by the way he sighs before answering.
“Not long, thought I’d try and sneak past you fools and get some shut eye.”
Subtle, cowboy.
Ever oblivious, or simply not caring, John continues, “How’d it go, then? You got the bastard?”
He has you pressed against his thigh to hide you from sight, cock standing to attention right beside your face. It’s too tempting, especially with a none the wiser Marston stood right below. When your tongue darts out, hovering above Arthur’s twitching, aching cock, his eyes flick down to you, warning residing deep in his eyes. You take it as less of a warning, more a challenge.
You wouldn’t.
Oh, but I would.
And you do. You lift up, just enough to fit the head of his throbbing cock past your lips and slide the whole length in. It bumps the back of your throat, but upon hearing Arthur’s strangled, poorly hidden groan, you can’t seem to stop yourself.
“Y-uh… Yeah, I got ‘em…”
It’s impressive, how he can just about hold a conversation despite his cock being so far down your throat his balls rest on your chin.
You can’t see John, but you can only imagine how his head must tilt and his brows must pull together at the strange response from Arthur.
“You alright, brother?”
He won’t be.
You blink up at Arthur, feigning an innocent, near angelic expression as you inhale through your nose and push him even further into you. You hum, low and quiet, letting the vibrations pass through him. Arthur whimpers, instantly knocking any and all sounds you’ve ever heard from top spot and replacing them as your favourite in the whole world.
“I-I’m fine. Just tired.” He tries to hint again, to no avail. His fingers are digging into your shoulder with a bruising force, that control slipping bit by bit with every passing second, every little movement. Tears prick at your eyes, that burning in your lungs you’ve been reaching for finally igniting. You’re stuffed with him, feeling so full that it’s hard to breathe. When you go to release him, to be able to gasp for precious air, you realise you can’t, Arthur’s huge hand holding you right in place with his palm flush against the back of your neck. Revenge.
“Where’s the Mrs?”
A raise of a brow. You’re not married, but everything is so naturally right between you and Arthur that the gang just seem to have defaulted to that. It makes you beam, wanting nothing more than to be this man’s wife, the kind of wife that makes him cum down your throat while he has a menial conversation.
“S-She’s- fuck…” When he grips harder at you, you gag around his length, tears now streaming down your cheeks and mixing with your spittle and the little bits of precum that leak out from Arthur. “She’s in bed. I-I better go check on her, a-actually.” He whimpers again, fingers now gripping into your hair to keep you in place. You’re not sure how much longer you can last like this, struggling to breathe, overflowing and, God, so wet for him.
John sounds unconvinced. You’d giggle, if you could.
“Alright… Well, g’night, brother.”
Arthur barely manages a grunt, and you can feel his thighs tensing and twitching from the sheer effort of not bucking his hips up into you and giving the pair of you away. He stills, most likely waiting for Marston to fuck off already, before he rips you away from him and pulls you to your feet, gripping your aching jaw with force enough force to keep it open.
“You goddamn siren.” He isn’t mad. He’s trying to be, but you know Arthur far too well, and he’s burning with a fire far hotter than mere anger. Need.
The mischievous glint in your eye is all you can offer for response, what with his iron grip on your face, but you do manage to slip your tongue out and lick the pad of his thumb, tasting the mixture of fluids still lingering.
It’s all getting too much, knowing what you just did and who you did it around, hearing Arthur unable to string a sentence together because of you. You don’t think you’ve ever been so turned on in your life, so desperate for a release that you’re pathetically writhing in Arthur’s hold. He notices, forced anger on his features replaced with a cockiness that only comes from knowing he’s regaining the power in the situation.
Your cheeks tingle when he releases you, sitting back in the seat and leaning back, one elbow resting on the arm of the old wooden chair and picking the cigar back up. God, you could ride him in that chair till morning, if you thought the wood wouldn’t splinter under the force.
“You gonna finish what you started, my little siren?” He asks, taking an especially long toke from the smoke while he waits for you to drop to your knees before him. Your cunt throbs, screaming out for his attention, but it would seem your antics have earned you punishment.
Your knees hit the wood with a force, though an involuntary whimper escapes you, hips grinding pathetically against nothing. Arthur notices, smirking like a goddamn cheshire cat at his little wanton whore.
“Patience, angel.” Your own words echo back to you like a slap in the face. You definitely deserve this.
The grip you had on the power in this game you’re playing with Arthur officially disappears when his hand snakes around the back of your neck, grasping at your hair and winding it around his wrist like a leash. You have to tilt your head so the tugging at your scalp is a mere burn rather than a sharp pain, but that’s just where he wants you.
“Now, little siren, I’m gonna teach ya’ some manners, and you’re gonna finish what you started, alright? And if you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll think about getting that sweet little cunt of yours off…”
It’s all it takes, the promise of Arthur’s fingers deep inside you while he sucks on your clit just how you like it, lapping up your juices like a man starved, and the defiance in your eyes dissipates. Arthur bends you to his whim, messy, sloppy putty in his hands as he drags you onto his weeping cock. You’re all but drooling for him, leaking out of the corners of your mouth when he slips into you. Your scalp tingles with the pull, especially when Arthur involuntarily tightens his grip with a hiss of his breath. His tip bumps the back of your throat, but he doesn’t stop even when you’ve fit all of him in that you can.
“Fuck, good girl, just like that baby girl…” he groans, and when you open your eyes to look up to him, he is watching you with a gaze so intense you feel like it could tear you apart. The tension burns between you, coiling so tight the chirp of a nearby cricket could snap it.
There’s an unspoken question in your eyes when you start to nearly choke on his length of when you’ll be released, but his eyes darken, “Come on, baby, you can take more, can’t you?”
He seems to register your fear, but it phases him little. It seems more a challenge, really, coaxing him into rocking his hips into you, pushing you even further onto his cock until you feel it start to breach past your throat in a way you didn’t even know possible. You splutter, wriggling and writhing as you try your hardest to breathe through your nose.
“Shh… good girl,” he coos, a ravenous look taking over your usually so lovable cowboy. You’ve pushed him, and God do you live for it. “Not much further… wanna see you take all of my cock, alright? You gonna do that for me, angel?”
You can’t nod, but it isn’t much of a question, not much choice available with your limited movements and the way Arthur has completely commandeered your body. You’re irrevocably his, body and soul.
It doesn’t feel possible to fit more of him in, your throat burning for relief that won’t come until Arthur is satisfied, but when he bucks his hips into you, you feel his base press against your nose. He groans hard, the noise initially from the sensation of having your throat wrapped around his cock, but when he sees the sight of you, tear stained and gagging on him, the moan is pulled out into a noise of pure ecstasy.
“Good girl… my good fuckin’ girl.”
His thumb rubs lovingly over your wet cheek, a sensation you cling to as the corners of your vision get fuzzy. Fuck, you’re not sure how much longer you can hold out, but you’re so desperate to feel Arthur’s spend trickling down your throat, feel him lose control and moan just for you that you’d honestly be willing to die for it.
Your expression, complete with lust-fogged, watery eyes, and beautifully flushed skin, teases the last of Arthur’s restraint like a razor thin blade against that final thread. When it finally snaps, you’re allowed one gasp for air, before he’s thrusting back into you hard. You can feel him stiffen, even more so than before, as his hips splutter into your mouth and he starts to tumble over the precipice into that realm of pleasure that only the two of you share.
“F-Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna-” But he interrupts himself with a visceral, primal groan, the vibration of it shattering the both of you. You take advantage of his practically inebriated state to regain some of your own anatomy, managing to swirl your tongue around his pulsing head inside your mouth. The hot, salty spend blooms across your tongue at that, Arthur guiding you by the cheek to bob up and down on his cock while he paints your throat white. His moans are a melody you’ll never tire of, animalistic and vulnerable all the same.
It feels like it never stops, Arthur’s spend filling your mouth up and leaking out from the corners of your lip. You can hardly stay still, writhing your needy cunt against your own heel, desperate for a reward you’re earning when you look him in the eye and swallow it all down. Pride blooms across Arthur’s features, saturated with a love that warms you from the inside out. His thumb caresses your face softly, wiping the tear tracks as you finally release his cock from your mouth and he guides you to your feet, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then nose, then lips.
“My good girl…” He coos, barely above a whisper as you breathe each other in, both as breathless as the other. Your throat aches, your jaw burning, but you’d do it a thousand times over to experience what you just did all over again.
“Now…” He splits the sentence with another kiss, catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Get on inside, sweetheart, I think you’ve earned yourself a reward.”
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#rdr2#arthur morgan imagine#arthur morgan rdr2#arthur morgan x y/n#arthur morgan x you#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 fanfiction#arthur morgan fanfic#arthur morgan smut#arthur morgan fanfiction#red dead redeption 2#red dead 2
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Since our new neighbour moved in my sons and I have had to put up with a quite a racket through most night: the creak of furniture, moans and growls. He certainly seemed to be getting a lot of pussy, I’ll give him that, but it wasn’t doing our sleep much good. After the twins had left for college I thought it would be prudent to pop round, introduce myself and have a polite word to see if he would keep the noise down a bit.
Pulling on the jacket of my suit ten minutes earlier than when I normally leave for work, I picked up the car keys, locked the front door behind me and stepped over the flowerbed that separates our lawns and knocked on his door. I could hear heavy boots stomping down his hall, and as the door began to move I opened my mouth to speak…
…and inadvertently gulped in a mouthful of heavy, sweet smoke that seemed to burst out from behind the door. “Christ,”I thought as I doubled up coughing, “Is his house on fire?” Before I could process anything more I felt a hand each placed on the top of my arms as the guy next door helped me stand upright from my coughing fit. “Why, I was hoping you’d be calling round, neighbour. You’d better come straight in, I’ve some good whiskey that will help with that cough, mate.” And before I could demur and get some fresh air into my lungs, he pulled me inwards and into the smoke-filled interior.
Well, this is me now. I didn’t get to work. I spent the day with Daddy Joey, who explained so much to me. Like how that bloody suit really didn’t flatter my body: that those sensible dress shoes made me look wimpy next to a nice pair of tall harness boots: and that adding to the intense smoke in his house wasn’t just a pleasure, but a duty. Not having been a smoker before now, I never knew just how much delicious, sweet smoke just one stogie will produce. But why stop at one? And the more I toked, the hairier I became - incredible that my clean-shaven face was a distant memory after just a couple of hours. And when when I was cooked just right, Daddy Joey took me upstairs, to show me his bedroom…
But now I’m back home. The place has been filled up nicely with spicy ‘gar smoke. Daddy Joey is in the living room, his booted feet up on the table, four tumblers of scotch generously filled up. Me? I’m waiting at the door for my boys to get back. Daddy Joey has taken a real interest in my boys, I was so proud of that. He says he’s certain that they’ll both be as happy as I am now within a short while. And while he talks to them, I’ll take my drink out onto the porch, fire up another Maduro and draw up plans to knock-through the wall that divides Daddy Joey’s house and ours. After all, it would be stupid to keep having to go out every time we need to serve him when we could just share a bigger house…
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REVELATIONS NEWS ❖ COMMENT ❖ HEAVY FUCKING METAL HOT NEW BAND
Sleep is not just for the weak, according to Vessel and co
STAY TOKE The gimmick may be goofy, but Sleep Token’s music is no laughing matter
“My favourite 90s album is Fantastic Planet by Failure. It’s devastatingly bleak in a way that resonates into our deepest self.” – VESSEL (VOCALS)
SOUNDS LIKE an intriguing and shadowy blend of atmospheric post-rock and tech FOR FANS OF Meshuggah, Bon Iver, Explosions in the Sky LISTEN TO Calcutta
Over the years Metal Hammer has heard all manner of bizarre sonic coalitions and watched bands emerge from the deepest, weirdest corners of our scene, yet mysterious collective Sleep Token are up there among the most unique and ‘WTF?’ propositions so far. Not only is their music a fairly unclassifiable fusion of brutal tech-metal and atmospheric post-rock, but the band, driven by masked and cloaked frontman Vessel, claim to live in thrall to an ancient deity called Sleep. OK…
Much like Ghost’s Nameless Ghouls, the remaining members of Sleep Token have chosen to remain anonymous in order to retain their shadowy presence— only agreeing to answer our questions via email.
“They go hand in hand,” explains Vessel when we ask if the band’s sound and image are simply an exercise in gimmickry. “Sleep Token serves to add a visual dimension to our journey. A world without texture isn’t a world at all.” The story goes that Vessel first encountered Sleep in a dream where he was promised glory and magnificence in return for his worship. “He is the oldest God, a primal majesty that has endured the ages unperturbed by the morality of a flawed and chaotic human race,” says the frontman helpfully. “He is everyone. He is you. There’s a power in music that binds us all, every note relates to another. He showed me a vision of a world filled with depth and texture.”
OK, so their ‘backstory’ is silly. But as far as the music’s concerned, Sleep Token are an undeniably intriguing prospect, inhibiting a sparse world of heart-breaking beauty and intense heaviness where start, and sometimes sinister skeletal soundscapes build to throbbing climaxes with mesmerising effect. Recent single Calcutta, which premiered on Hammer’s website, builds like a storm: violent, djent-tinged destruction erupting amid Vessel’s ethereal and vulnerable Bon Iver-esque vocals.
“We sculpt, build and craft these sounds with an aim to deliver the emotional magnitude of His words,” says Vessel. “Destroy and rebuild over and over until what is left is what His followers shall hear. The influences come from the physical and emotionally charged world at large. Dreams are textural, so is music and much like life; they bring both darkness and life, beauty and ugliness— it’s our job to translate and convey those complexities as best we can. Each of these songs is an experience, but to find the real details you’ll have to explore them yourself. The music will ring out and people will continue to follow, for that’s what people do best. Follow. Stay with us and we’ll show you the whole world through His eyes. What a magnificent sight that is.”
“WE WORSHIP THE OLDEST GOD, A PRIMAL MAJESTY”
SLEEP TOKEN’S NEW EP, TWO, IS OUT NOW VIA BASICK
METALHAMMER.COM
(This is in my Google Drive also, here.)
#sleep token#vessel sleep token#vessel#vessel interview#metal hammer#lost media#circa 2017#wake up sleepy babes#new vessel/sleep lore just dropped#(and by just dropped i mean has been around for 7 years)#metalhammer let me read the full emails i beg
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I'm taking the plunge because why not:
What are some headcanons regarding small, silly things that happened during the 3 year trips on the Golden Yard and Meteor?
oh lets go i love this sort of ask. no meteor crew stuff sorry im kinda tired but
on the prospitian ship:
the crocodiles are never recovering from that shit bro. un-stonks
alchemizing sessions. probably with mundane household devices like toothbrushes or something. patterned toilet paper. davesprite absolutely remakes the sbahjifier for himself but i think he also likes to hand draw them from time to time. also john and jade alchemizing bathing suits and going swimming on lolar and hanging with the turtles. casey can come too. floaties on casey
the sbahj canon diverges. so many sbahj in-jokes exclusive to the prospitian ship. unfortunately the retcon make it so none of this ever happens :(
he’d never say it but davesprite likes it when john and jade fall asleep on him doing whatever, it makes his presence feel wanted and appreciated by the people he sacrificed his self and humanhood for good for. sorry for immediately going into davesprite but good god is he tragic. oh yeah heres more. he’s still part dave and shares the same history with john and jade that alpha timeline dave does. john gave him his shades on his 13th birthday in december 2008, he sent john the con air bunny and jade a physical copy of sbahj as furries in the mail. he is identical to alpha dave in relation to his friends before the timeline splits off. dont forget that 4/13/2009 was also his first time meeting his online friends john and jade in person, even after 4 months chronologically of sburb grinding—nearly a year with all the time shenanigans—and going back to day 1, since john and jade were dead in his timeline
tries not to cry cries anyway but only when he knows theyre asleep. pov when the weight of everything suddenly hits you (you are an emotionally repressed 14 year old)
also because he’s fucking fluffy and absolutely knows it and probably thinks to himself “yeah this is the best possible use for these otherwise pointless breast feathers” and yall already know he craves cloth mother plus probably has nesting instincts
(source)
adding on to that also i think people forget sprites are actually fucking LONG and his wingspan is fucking huge he could be a pillow and a blanket at the same time
i wrote davesprite jade cuddles and john thinking about mushrooms and davesprite thinking about how they contribute to the ecnonony
^ john toked too hard on the lowas mushrooms by accident one time
it feels like pajama parties would be a common occurence just the vibes im getting. literally jade is seen sitting on a pile of squiddles and theres plushies fucking everywhere you know they got up to plushie mayhem. do you think they ever alchemized them. look how lived in that room is they all contributed something
jade resumes gardening :) but theres no sun :( but she alchemizes some plastic plants :D but its not the same :(
canonically the imps in johns house just gave up tormenting him and started hanging out and having snacks on movie night
PENIS!
imagine looking up into the sky and seeing a giant casey the size of a planet sleep. jade resizes stuff for fun like this just to introduce some novelty to their lives
this is something
davesprite has beavis and butthead do america (1996) in his collection somewhere in his apartment on lohac
yall theyre watching johns fuckin spongebob dvd box collection. you KNOW john owns the spongebob squarepants movie (2004). and the best thing is it brings all of them together without any of them objecting. they all love spongebob
when the episode jellyfish jam comes on johns like “wow, pretty much this exact scenario happened to me with the imps.” (arthur flashback sfx)
DAVESPRITE: yeah well you didnt have a giant sound system did you
jade warps dave’s bro’s sound system from lohac and sizes it up. they put on stadium rave and the entire fucking house shakes
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All the things you said | Finale part
Summary: A big dinner is organized by Charles to bring together some pilots and their wives, girlfriends, sister and friends. Everyone enjoys the evening until a topic of conversation leads to dark revelations. What secrets will be revealed?
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section!
I'm open to requests.
Thank you, and Enjoy! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
WARNING: mention of SU*C*DE WARNING !R@PE! TOUGH CONTENT, BE AWARE!
If you need help. Please get help. You are loved, and your life is valued. Even if you don’t see it, you are loved.
DISCLAIMER: This story is fiction and has no correlation with reality. All site names making acts, violence or any other type of aggression are used for artistic purposes, and they did not commit those acts.
He acquires at her request despite himself. Unable to fight anymore, fatigue slowly eats him away, and he knows that he is of no help if he is exhausted. He leaves the room not without a last kiss, a last look, a last goodbye.
On the following day, Charles came. Staying for hours next to you. Stroking your hair, mumbling your name, praying for you to wake up. He can't take you out of his brain. He can't take you out of him. You're haunting him. We realize how important it is in our life when we lose someone we take for granted. Charles looks at you as a friend until he realizes he loves you. Is it too late? Were you supposed to be?
Sebastian came a few times, only a few minutes. He can't unseen what he saw. He plays and plays the night in his head over and over again. Wondering what he could have done differently.
The doctors are not really optimistic about your recovery. Your body is tired. Your mind is exhausted. They did all they could do. All we have to do is wait. Wait for you to come back. Wait for you to fight for your life. How could you fight if you're not even awake? It's painful.
Strangely enough, he came. The rapist. The abomination of your life. You came late at night when everyone left. He felt bad. "It's too late to feel bad," you think when you feel his hand and you. You wanted to cry, to scream, but nothing. He left shortly after. Looking at you one last time. Looking at what he did to you. You hear from Lando a few days later that he got arrested. Other girls spoke, and there were enough accusations to start a trial. Even more strange, it did nothing to you. Well, how could you feel? When he toked everything you got and smashed it in a million pieces?
Sometimes, you can feel the warmth of the afterlife tingling your skin. You feel it right near you, calling you. Calling you to answer the call. You want to feel this feeling of peace, this quietness. You don't know how to feel. You just want to float. You forgot how to be happy. How to be. Why fight if you may never find yourself again? What were you made for? You wonder to yourself.
Time flies. A couple of weeks passed. You made some improvements for the doctors to feel optimistic for you to wake up eventually. You're stabilized by all those machines. Your parent finally arrived a few days after you were admitted. You can feel your mother's tears on your cold hands and the soft kisses of your father on your forehead. You can smell the sunflower Heidi brought you every time she comes to see you. Sometimes you want to react. To show her you listen. But you can't. Or you don't want?
The feeling of loneliness passed. You can see now how much you're loved. How they love you. You love to hear Arthur talking about your favourite series. You love to hear Sebastian remembering childhood moments whenever he found the courage to come. You love to listen to your mom singing your favourite songs. You love to hear Daniel telling dad jokes, hoping you'll smile in your sleep. You love hearing Lando talking about his latest Quadrant adventures or Twitch lives. You love to listen to Charles saying how much he loves you. How much his life is plain without you. You can't imagine somebody else cared so much about you.
That makes you cry. You can't show them you can hear. You can't show them you love them too. You can't show them how grateful you are or will be. More time passed, and the more you could slowly feel you were losing yourself. All you need to do is happen your eyes, but for some reason, it seems an impossible task to do.
"This is impossible," Alices says in disbelief at the creature rising upon her.
"Only if you believe it is." The hatter whispers, scared of the outcome of all this adventure. But wasn't this all the point of this madness?
"Sometimes, I believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
"That is an excellent practice." The hatters says. "However, just now, you might want to focus on the Jabberwocky."
"Six impossible things. Count them, Alice. One, there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two, and a cake that can make you grow. Three, animals can talk. Four, Alice, cats can disappear. Five, there's a place called Wonderland. Six, I can slay the Jabberwocky."
You feel yourself falling into the rabbit hole, and you have been in Wonderland all this time. That's it! You can do it. Six impossible things before breakfast.
"One, you will get a major in architecture."
"Two, you can drive an F1 car."
"Three, you can be happy again."
"Four, Y/n, there's a place for you in this universe."
"Six, I will fight for my life."
At this, though, he feels darkness rising upon you. Everything fades away slowly. You can hear the constant beep of the machines around you. You can feel Charles's hands against yours. You can smell the hospital room you're in. You can see the light shutters again you close your eyes.
Then... you breathe.
Feeling the grass on your feet. The autumn breeze cools down your spine. For the first time, you appreciate being alive. To fill your lungs with air, to hear the water crash against the rocks, to feel the sun warm up your skin, and to taste food again.
You feel a hand around your waist, and Charles brings you closer to him. He sticks you to his bare chest. He holds you firmly for fear that you will disappear again. It makes you smile to see him so loving, so gentle, and so attentive. You turn your gaze from the blue horizon to meet his emerald eyes. He smiles tenderly. His eyes sparkle with a thousand lights when you return his smile. You hold these eyes a few moments before you look wandering towards his lips.
If only it could be true.
If only you could be with him.
______________________________________________________________
This is the end of All the things you said. I know it's sad, but it must come to an end. Let me know what you think in the comment. <3
Tag list: @tyna-19 @dessxoxsworld @ynbutbetter @alexander-hamilhoe @honethatty12 innieblogg janeholt3 mloyer heeseung-baby
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc fluff#f1#f1 imagine#warning#sensible content#r*pe mention#su*cide#be aware
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2 with Eds? 🤭
So I went out last night for the first time in a long time and well this is based off that :)
2#- “Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.”
| Buy me a tea | Masterlist
You were dancing with him, your ex boyfriend in the club. Completely unaware that Eddie was stood in the corner watching you, the blood boiled around his body as he stood there.
The lights bounced off you both, your bodies perfectly apart as you moved to the music. Your boobs slipping out your black body con, he thought you looked perfect.
His cup was getting squeezed tighter and tighter as he watched your ex stroke a piece of hair off your face. Practically growling loudly at you both, he went to take a step forward in anger until a warm hand stopped you.
“Yo man, leave it out. She loves you” Steve voice was slurred and calm in Eddie’s ear.
“Fine, let’s go smoke” he grunted, twirling both a blunt and a cigarette in his hand.
Steve nodded and escorted Eddie outside, watching as he took one last glance at you.
The flicker of the lighter echoed amongst the chatter of people, Steve stood facing Eddie as he smoked his way quickly through the cigarette. His body shaking with anger, his eyes darting from person to person until he saw you.
Throwing away the cigarette and began lighting the blunt, pressing his back as far into the wall as he could. Steve followed him as he exhaled a big gust of smoke into his face with a laugh.
Passing it between each other, Eddie’s anger grew more and more distant. Laughing with Steve loudly as you stood in the corner with your ex boyfriend and friends, finally noticing Eddie from the waft of weed.
You bounced over all full of happiness and energy, you didn’t drink but you enjoyed dancing.
“Eds! I didn’t see you here, when did you arrive?” Your voice was rambling as you gazed at him with a smile.
“I’ve been here for a while” his voice was bitter as he blew smoke at you before looking at Steve.
“Having a good night?” Steve spoke between exhales, hovering the blunt in front of you.
Nodding you took it and inhaled hard, coughing loudly with an exhale. You rarely smoked but sleeping with Eddie was the only chance you did.
“Well I’m going to go back and dance. See you later Steve, bye Ed’s” you hugged Steve but stroked Eddie’s hand before dashing off inside.
Eddie shrugged as Steve laughed as they both watched you disappear inside. Leaving them alone with the rest of the blunt and your ex boyfriend.
Steve knew that Eddie was waiting to pounce so he dangled another blunt in front of his eyes and they walked away from the building.
As the lighting of the blunt glowed in both their faces, seated on a cool wooden bench.
“I just think he teases her and stuff to wind me up, he knows all about me. Knows that she’s mine” he growled, tugging his hair back off his face.
Steve reached forward and passed him the blunt,
“Well don’t let him get to you man, she is yours and he’s doing it ok purpose. It’ll be fine” steve nodded, watching as your ex boyfriend went inside.
They stayed out there until the club slowly began to close, your voice echoed throughout the corridors of the building until you ran over to see both boys.
Giddy and happy to see both Eddie and Steve.
“Hey guys! I missed you in there” you panted with energy.
Sitting yourself down on the bench next to Eddie, your hand instantly sliding onto his knee. Steve passed you the blunt, your eyes locking with Eddie’s as you took a toke.
Giggling as Steve pulled ramen in silly faces across the table at you, your hand palming Eddie’s crotch underneath the table. You stayed with them even after your ex boyfriend stroked your shoulder as he walked past.
After finishing the blunts, Eddie and Steve walked with you back through town. You lived closer to Steve, Eddie’s hand in yours as you watched Steve walk back home.
Quietly unlocking the front door of your house with Eddie’s body pressed onto yours, his hands cupping your ass as you suppressed your giggles.
Once inside you clung to Eddie like a puppy wagging their tail, you were hot and horny for him. Kissing his neck aggressively, nibbling down onto his skin. Grinding yourself against his leg as you weaved your body around his.
“I need you Eds” you whined, sliding your finger down his chest until you twanged his boxers against his skin.
Wincing at the pain, he bit his lip. Pulling you off him, lifting you over his shoulder and throwing you hard onto the bed. Spreading your legs apart as he routed through your “sex toy” draw until the rope hit against the metal bed.
You had scrambled to change into nothing as laid on the bed staring at him, as he noticed you again. Mumbling “fuck” before regaining his self control and whipped the rope against your nipples.
Gulping hard as your eyes observed Eddie, patiently as he yanked your arms and legs apart. Stretching them so they met each the fake diamond headboard knobs, clasping your arms around the metal as he tied it around your ankles and wrists with a smirk.
Wriggling to get free, your hands hit against the metal.
“What are you going to do to me Eddie? Please say you’ll fuck this pussy, I need it” you whined loudly, still rattling your body against the bed in protest.
“No.” His voice was stern as he walked around the bed, wondering what to do with you.
You were whimpering loudly, your hips bucking aggressively against the bed. Begging to be touched, his eyes burnt into yours as he stripped naked in front of you. His cock bounced as it was released from his clothes.
He stroked his cock at the edge of the bed, hovering over your cold naked body.
“Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.” He growled at you, squeezing his hand around his cock as he dragged it down your body.
Spanking your clit with his tip, you gasped at the pressure. Feeling him slide it between your folds, teasing your entrance before removing himself from you completely.
Returning to your “sex toy” draw, grabbing an extra bit of rope and your favourite vibrator. That mischievous smirk plastered upon his face as he wrapped the rope around your torse, slipping the vibrator underneath the rope and pressing it against your clit.
You panted as you tried to prepare yourself for what would happen next. The rope digging into your skin as the vibrator was turned on, instantly rippling against your exposed wet clit.
“Oh fuck Eddie, it feels good” you moaned, your eyes closed tightly as your head pushed deeper into your pillows.
Eddie hovered over you at the end of the bed, his hand over his throbbing precum stained cock. Watching you as your body shook against the vibrator, your moans echoed into the room.
The clock on your bed flashed the time, reminding Eddie that you needed to be quiet. Leaning over your face, he slapped your face with his cock.
“You gotta be quiet little one” he coed in your ear as his tip teased your lips.
Your wet mouth slowly took his cock, his body straddling over your tits. His moans rippling against the wall as his cock hit the back of your throat. Your eyes watering as he fucked your face.
“Your pussy will not get fucked with my cock but your mouth will, for now” he shuddered as you tightened your lips around his cock.
He had previously trained your mouth to take his fat cock whole, as he looked down at you. He felt proud as you didn’t gag once.
The vibrator was still pressing against your dripping clit, your legs shaking hard on the bed. Your moans rippling against his cock as it twitched inside your mouth.
Gasping hard as you edged closer and closer to your orgasm, you locked eyes with Eddie. Instinctly Eddie removed his sloppy wet cock from your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath for a second.
Watching Eddie as he turned off the vibrator, your body shuddering from lack of stimulation. Whimpering loudly as you shook in protest, your clit needing attention.
“Please turn it back on Eddie, I was so close to cumming” you whined desperately, shaking yourself against the bed.
“No, what did I say?” He was stern with his eyebrows knitted together.
“Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good” you pathetically repeated his words from earlier, your clit throbbing as you thrusted in the air for any bit of friction.
“Yes I’m right” he shuddered as he resumed stroking his cock over your body.
Moaning into the room as he stared at your naked body in front of you, biting his lip as you still shook against the bed. Loving you at your most desperate peak, his cock twitched around his hand.
Edging closer and closer to his own orgasm at the sight of you, the fact you needed him.
Walking closer to you, he placed his legs either side of yours and met your clit with his tip. Rubbing them together as you moaned loudly into the room, finally getting the friction you wanted.
Your pussy was dripping from the vibrator but as he grinded his tip against your clit, your eyes heavily rolled back as you felt yourself edging closer to your orgasm.
Eddie grunted as his cock twitched in his hand, his sensitive tip was edging himself as close as you to his orgasm.
“Fuck, your clit feels so good. I bet you like this don’t you? My dirty slut?” He panted heavily as his hips thrusted heavily.
“Yes Ed’s, your dirty slut” you panted with him, your clit twitching against his tip.
Moaning loudly as Eddie’s cock spurted hot silky cum onto your clit, rubbing it as it dripped down your pussy and onto your thighs. Grunting as he continued to move against you until you gasped loudly, your body shaking as you finally felt yourself cum.
Squirting hard against his tip, coating yourself, the bed and his cock with your cum as you shook from the finally release.
Sweet glistened mixed with sweat as you caught your breath, Eddie grinned as he scooped up some of the cum mixture between his fingers and shoved it down your throat.
Forcing you to suck the cum off his fingers, grinning he replaced it with his lips. Leaving you tied up, he leant forward and whispered into your ear.
“That’s what you get for flirting with your ex boyfriend in front of me”
#eddie munson#eddie munson filth#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x fem! reader smut
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rant about mental health
(will be deleted in the future maybe)
I would like to apologize for my inactivity, I would like to apologize to those who are waiting for their requests but I want to reassure you guys that I’m working on them! Since I never made a post like this I would like to talk to you about my problem so you could understand the situation I am in.
I never had the chance to live with both of my parents. My father got arrested when I was 1 and 8 months old and was acquitted after nine and a half years, my mom was busy with work and rarely spent time with her and at the time she was an alcohol addicted. She left when I was around 8 and I lived with my brother with my grands. But I don’t want to annoy and the reason it might to take a while for me to post is because my father now lives with us with my grandma. Since he got out of prison he never spent time with us at all to the point he got to know a person, let’s call her Lady. Lady started to ask about my father before he was acquitted from my now passed away aunt. My father went to the point to get to know her even tho she had a boyfriend and lived together (basically she cheated) and from then our relationship was never healthy. She came to our house two time and the third one she promised to be the good one, my father sold the bedroom and kitchen and living room because they weren’t her liking to the point she would leave after 2 months leaving us with nothing.
My father promised to change path with that Lady and start a serious relationship, of course he lied, he can only lie and dated multiples woman to the point he wouldn’t spent a day with us, even Easter, he went to a girl house and she has 4 kids, he prefers others before thank us. This year my mental health got worse, I’ve been suffering with depression for years but never needed a shoulder to cry on because I thought I could handle it myself until yesterday. He started complaining about his wallet that “we” lost and it was early in the morning. I sleep on a couch while he sleeps in my grandmas bed and has no respect towards us at all. So I snapped and of course he had to compre me to my mother calling me a whore and more (even tho I don’t get out from my room at all). I got up and I threw something to him to the point we got into a real fight and in the end my family says is mostly my fault because a daughter should raise hands towards parents, even tho in the past he raised hands on me because of that Lady when were cleaning after dinner, even tho me and my brother weren’t even inside.
My auntie has been helping me since she raised us and toke care of us and she is even trying to find a job for me and pay lessons for me. So it might just take a while to post all the stories and etc.. but I’m working on them all so I could publish them fast. Hope I didn’t annoy with my stories and etc.. but I’ve been keeping this for years. And to all of them that live in a toxic, abusive, unhealthy family please get help. Don’t just ignore the situation because I did too because we didn’t have money to pay therapist. You can always ask to a relative because you’re the only one who can get yourself an out of this kind of situation.
send lots of love and if you want to talk I’ll check you out for sure because I don’t want anyone else live what I’ve been going through <3
I wrote this a few weeks ago, apparently my father got a girlfriend and has two daughters and one is 19(one year older than me) and other is 7 and I had to babysit this kid, which she doesn’t speak my language at all. I fell slightly better. So I’ll start work again!!! Please stay tuned<3
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Danny, Mirage, and Annesa Felizima-@capturecharlesau Amelia Copperbottom -@androidcharles
Cameron Calvin -@rarestdoge
Accordion and Violin -@bluetorchsky
Brutus-@smoresthehalloweenqueen
Crusher, Jay, Scottie, and Ulle -@jaytoons7
Nicole -@lovelygirlnicole15
Chapter 2: Shopping
Morning has come, birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and a beautiful day outside should not be a waste. Mirage slowly wakes up from his dreamless sleep. He slowly sits up and makes a big stretch and a jaw-cracking yawn. He then got out of bed and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. After washing his face, he returned to his bedroom and saw three feathers. Two next to his bed and one next to his pillow. Oh yeah. He had to tell the others what he had found out yesterday.
Mirage went downstairs to eat breakfast. Maybe some peaceful coffee will help with his sleepiness- “WHO THE HELL TOKE ALL THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE?!” Never mind. Mirage walked into the kitchen and saw Amelia, Annesa, and Crusher, around the table, while Danny was looking around the fridge. “What’s wrong, bro?” Danny turns to Mirage. “Someone took all the food in the fridge and only left a few bacon, eggs, and some bread. Oh, and a half bottle of milk.” Danny then slams the fidget and sits down, pitching the bridge of his nose. Oh boy, it’s only 8 in the morning and they have to deal with this?! It’s too early. Way too early
“I mean, we could make some sandwiches for breakfast. Not the best but it will fill our tummy.” Mirage points out. Danny look up at Mirage, annoyed. “Yeah, but what about lunch and dinner? We can’t just have one meal a day!” Amelia then speaks. “There is a store nearby. We can maybe buy some food for ourselves. Or we can ask the others since they all live next to us.” Crusher then smiles. “Alright. Then let’s cook some breakfast.” Crusher stands up, opens the fridge, and took everything out. “And whoever stole our food, they will pay for it.” Oh ho, Danny is mad and their food thief is gonna have karmas.
Mirage walks up to the cell phone and begins to call Accordion or Violin. Amelia stands beside him. The phone rings once, then twice, and then… “Hello?” Cameron answered the phone. Oh boy. “Who is it?” Amelia asked, curious. “Hey, isn’t that father’s least favorite child?” Cameron asks, trying to start a fight. Amelia looks like she’s gonna snap that cell phone and scream at Cameron. Fortunately, Mirage stopped them before they got further. “Hey, Cam. Could you get Accordion or Violin on the phone?”
“Ok.” Cameron seemed like he was taking a deep breath and then. “ ACCORDION!!! VIOLIN!!! MIRAGE IS CALLING YOU!!!” Damn, his ears are gonna bleed. Someone took the phone from Cameron after a ‘thank you’ and answered the phone. “Hi, Mirage. This is Violin. Do you need something?” Violin ask. “Well, this morning, someone stole our food from the fridge and we were wondering if we could borrow some of your food for today. We will pay you guys back.”
”Oh… it happened to you too?” Mirage raises one of his eyes brows. “What do you mean?” Violin sign. “This morning, when Brutus woke up, he told us someone stole all the food and kept some fruits and bagels. Jay also called us and has the same problems.” Violin explains. Mirage and Amelia look at each other and back to the phone. “Ok. Thank you for telling us. Seems like we need to go shopping. All of us.” Violin chuckles. “Yeah. I will tell the others. See you soon.”
“Ok, bye.” Mirage hung up and walked back to the kitchen with Amelia. Danny, Crusher, and Annesa had already started eating. “So, how’s it went?” Crusher asked, taking a bite of his food. “Violin says they all have the same problems as ours. And so is Jay and the others.” Danny sigh. “Seems like we need to go shopping. Alright, get ready after breakfast. Mirage, Amelia, come and eat. Your sandwich is getting cold.” Mirage and Amelia quickly take a seat and start eating their breakfast. After they finished, Danny took the plates and began to wash them while Mirage and everyone else went upstairs to change their clothes. After Mirage finished, he took a look at the feathers and picked up the yellow one only before heading downstairs.
“Guys. Need to talk to you all for something.” Everyone turns to Mirage, listening. “Remember the feather from yesterday?” Everyone nods. “Well, those feathers, I believe belong to hybrids. This one just glows when I’m heading to sleep.” Annesa took out her sketchbook and started writing. ‘You sure you’re not seeing things?’ Mirage chuckles and pats Annesa's head. “I’m sure.”
“Ok, so we know that those feathers belong to magical hybrids. But do you know where they are?” Mirage glares at Crusher. “You think I got any ideas?”
“You’re the only one who has all those feathers in your room. Who else we’re gonna ask?” Damn, he got a good point. “Plus, why did you only bring the yellow one, and not the blue and aqua-green one?” Crusher points out. “Because this is the only feather that glows,” Mirage answered, getting annoyed. “I think that’s enough.” Everyone looks at Danny. “We need to get ready and go shopping. I know is a bit early but whoever this ‘Food thief’ is, we will have to deal with them later.” Danny stops his brother and his lover before they get into a fight. He really hopes they will get along in the future. After they were already, Danny, Annesa, Mirage, Crusher, and Amelia went outside of their house and wait for the others to come so they can all went to shopping. And it’s already 12:00 PM.
Mirage brought the feather with him, telling everyone else what he had found out. Once everyone was here, Mirage rejoined the group. "Damn, Violin. You got a long list!" Jay points at Violin's list, which is like 4 pages long. "Hey, you never know when to go shopping again. Plus, just in case! Anyways, Mirage. I notice you have a yellow feather. I do feel some magic from them. Where did you get that?" Violin ask, pointing at Mirage's feather.
"Oh, I was about to tell you guys. So yesterday, Amelia and I found three feathers. This one and the other two are in my room. A hybrid left those." Mirage explains. "Ok... Let's go shopping." Jay request. Everyone starts going shopping for more food and clothes. They were separated into 6 groups with two people each. Accordion with Amelia. Violin with Scottie. Danny with Annesa. Brutus was lucky to be teamed with his lover, Brutus. Ulle with Nicole. And a piece of bad news for Mirage, he's teaming up with Crusher. And it was Danny's idea.
"Why the heck do you let me team up with HIM?!" Danny looks at Mirage and sighs. "I want you guys to get along."
"Alone with HIM?! You know what he-" Danny cut him off. "I know what he did to you was unfair but it's in the past now, Mirage. You can't keep getting mad at him." Mirage groan. Really didn't agree to this. "Can you do it for me?" Mirage looks at Danny for a while then sighs. "OK, fine. Only for you." Danny smiles. "Ok, Let's see." Everyone turns to Scottie. "The most important thing we need right now is food. Who's gonna get what?"
"How about two groups get vegetables, the other two groups get meats, and the last two groups get everything else? That way, it will be faster." Ulle points out, giving a suggestion. Everyone agrees. "Here's a list." Accordion hands everyone a list of what they need. Mirage and Crusher look at their list. They need to get some eggs, milk, some bread, and some fish. "OK, let's get going! Meet up here when you're all done shopping. And if you're here early, you can go and buy yourself something. See ya all later!" Everyone went to get what they needed, while Mirage and Crusher just stood there. Both of them look at each other and back to the list.
“So… what should we get first?” Crusher asked. Mirage groan. Out of everyone, he’s teamed up with this guy. “Eggs,” Mirage answered with a single word and started walking to the food store. He’s wondering what’s the other groups up to.
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Ulle and Nicole start with some carrots. They then walk past a pet store. “Oooh, can we see some pets? Maybe some Sugar Gliders?” Nicole ask. “Aren’t you a sugar glider hybrid?” Ulle ask. “We can come back after we finish our tasks in hand.”
“Please~ It won’t take too long.” Nicole gives her puppy eyes. Ulle sweat drops and sighs. “Fine… only for a few minutes.” The next thing Ulle knew, Nicole already running toward the pet store. “H-Hey! WAIT UP!!!” Ulle follows her.
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Brutus and Cameron were holding hands with two bags. One is full of some tomatoes and the other is filled with fruits. “The next thing we need to get is meat.” Brutus read from the list. “Come on, love.” Cameron sigh. He wants to feel Brutus’s feathers. “After the meat, what is the last thing on the list?” Cameron asked, tired. “We will need to buy some bagels. That’s all.” Cameron stood up straight as both of them entered the meat store.
“Wait… what kind of meat do we need to get?” Cameron asked, wanting to double-check. “Um…” Brutus goes back to the list and sweat drops. “… If I told you, promise me you won’t run away?” Cameron raises his eye brow. “I… promise?” Brutus sigh. “It’s goose meat.” Cameron froze. “NOPE NOPE NOPE!!!” He quickly turns around to exit the store but Brutus grabs the back of his shirt. “Hey! You made a promise!”
“YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I HATE THOSE THINGS!!!”
“I know it’s scary for you but they’re dead! They can’t chase you or do anything to you!”
Cameron thinks for a second before groans. “Fine!!!! But I’m not going near it.” Brutus closes his eyes and smiles. “Fine by me. Let’s go.” Cameron and Brutus walk deeper into the store, looking for what they want. Cameron is regretting this.
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Amelia is hopping around while Accordion follows behind. They already have some tools they might need. “What else is on the list?” Amelia asked Accordion, as he took a look at the list. “Well, we still need some body wash and that’s pretty much all.” Amelia hum and continue to walk. “How do you think the others are doing?” Amelia asked. “Well, I’m pretty sure everyone was doing great. But as for Mirage and Crusher, is another story.” Accordion comments, sweat drops when the first time they see each other again. It wasn’t pretty.
“Have you bought any baby clothes?” Accordion turns his attention back to Amelia. “Oh, yeah. We’re having twins. I’m pretty sure they are a mix hybrid of a lion and a deer. Why did you ask?” Amelia awkwardly points to a toy store. Accordion looks at where she’s pointing at and chuckles. “Yeah, we can buy some toys for the baby and for you.”
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Violin and Scottie had finished everything on their checklist, which was surprisingly fast. "So now we're all finished with the checklist, now what?" Scottie asked, clearly bored. "Now we wait for the others to show up. They wouldn't take too long." Violin answered, rubbing his stomach. Scottie saw a store that contained pots, dishes, and other kitchen stuff. Scottie wants to take a look and maybe buy some stuff for cooking. "I'm gonna go and take a look at that store over there." Scottie stands up as Violin does the same. "Ok, then. Let's-"
"No, you're staying here." Violin looks at Scottie, confused. "Look, I appreciate that you and Accordion had been taking good care of me as your child, but you're now carrying two babies. I can't let you move around too much." Scottie points out. Violin looks at Scottie and smiles. "Ok. I will stay here and watch over the bags. Be careful." Scottie gives him a thumbs-up and begins walk toward to the store.
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Danny and Annesa were in a kitchen-related store, picking some stuff to use for the kitchen. Danny feels Annesa tug on his shirt and looks down. 'Are you sure is a good idea for Mirage and Crusher to stay together for this long? What happens if they start a fight again?' Danny sighed and put the pot in his hand back to where it belonged. "I know it sounds like a bad idea," Annesa crossed her arms. "Ok, It's a horrible idea. But they can't be mad at each other forever. I bet you don't want your big brother to get hurt too, right?"
Annesa could only sigh and nod her head. "Danny?" Danny heard someone familiar and turned around to face Scottie. "Oh, hi Scottie. What brings you here?" Scottie didn't say anything and pointed at the sign, which said 'Open For Any Kitchen Supplies'. "Oh. Where is Violin? I thought you were teamed with him." Again, Scottie points outside of the store, showing a figure outside, sitting and watching over the bags. "Oh..." Danny now has nothing to say. "Have you finished all your checklist?" Scottie asks, to which Danny nods.
"Hi dear! Why are you here by yourself?" Danny, Scottie, and Annesa looked outside and saw everyone was coming back. Everyone but Crusher and Mirage. Oh no... where are they?
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Mirage and Crusher were holding bags, ready to finish the final thing on the checklist, bread. Once they entered, all of them sweat drops. There's a lot, like a LOT, different types of bread. There's Chinses bread, Indian Bread, and so on. It feels like all the bread in this world is here! "Um... what type of bread they want us to bye?" Crusher asked, not sign up for this.
"I guess... The classic one?" Mirage answered. "Just... grab whatever you think we will eat for the morning." Mirage then walked off, leaving Crusher standing there and going to the separate side. Mirage looks around and everything he sees is bread. This is gonna give him a headache. "Oh, mio Dio!! You know what, I'm just gonna grab a toast." Mirage went and grabbed, like, 9 bags of toast bags and rushing out, but was stop by someone.
"Sir? Are you buying all of those?" Mirage turns and oh boy, this girl is filled with makeup. "Um... yes... I am?"
"No, you're not. I was about to buy those." The girl tries to snatch it but Mirage quickly moves away. "Girl. there are still 21 bags of toast over there. You could grab those."
"SHUT UP AND GIVE ME THOSE BREAD!" A Karen. Just the perfect thing to ruin this. "Look, piccola ragazza. Like I said. There. Is. Still. 20. Bag. Of. Toast. Go get your own." The Karen seems like she's gonna slap his and guess what? She raised her hand and before she could slap him, a bag full of bread hit her right in the face. Danny turn around and saw Crusher walking over. "You know it's wrong to hit a stranger?" Oh, you're the one to talk...
The Karen look at Crusher from head to toe and smile. "Well, hi, handsome. How are you doing? You know you make my day when I see your pretty face?"(I actually want to throw up when I'm writing this.) Crusher looks like he wants to throw up. "Um... I'm sorry miss. But I'm taken." The girl walks over to Crusher. "Oh? Then how about breaking up with her and dating me instead?" Crusher moves away. "Miss, personal space please. And no, I'm not breaking up with my Husband."
"Your HUSBAND?! EW!! YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY BREAK UP!! YOU'RE A GUY AND DATING WITH OTHER BOYS IS DISGUSTING! YOU'RE STUPID HUSBAND MUST BE SO UNLUCKY TO HAVE SOMEONE LIKE YOU-" OK, now she had crossed the line. Mirage walks up to her and grabs the back of her dress, making her face him.
"EW!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! LET Go of..." Mirage's eyes are glowing in grayish white.
"I don't care how much people trash talk about me. But if I ever heard anyone trash talk about my brother or his husband, I will make sure you will never see tomorrow’s daylight ever again..." Crusher was just standing there, surprised. Yes, he had seen Mirage mad before, but never THIS mad. The Karen got so scared and ran away after Mirage let go. Mirage’s eyes slowly got back to normal. “Let’s go and pay for those and go back to the group. They’re probably waiting.” Crusher didn’t say anything but follow him.
After they paid, Crusher was think about what just happened. Did Mirage just stand up for him? He was in defense mode for a spare second. “Hey… thanks for defending me back there.” Mirage didn’t say anything, still was a bit angry and annoyed. Once they rejoin the group, Danny and Annesa rush to Mirage, to check on him. “Are you ok? Annesa and I feel that!”
“Feel what?” Mirage asked, acting like he didn’t know anything. “You know what I’m talking about! And you’re voice is filled with anger. Tell me what happened?” Mirage didn’t say anything, didn’t want to remind him what happened. Danny turned to Crusher, hoping he could get some answer from him. “Well, a Karen happened and let’s just say it didn’t go so well.” That’s all Danny needed. All of them went home and grabbed the stuff they needed. Mirage quickly sits down on the couch and rubs his face. Accordion came over and ordered a glass of water. Mirage took it.
Crusher walks over and sits next to Mirage. He knew Mirage hated him but whatever happened back there was pretty… scary… “So… Danny and Scottie were in the kitchen, cooking some for us to eat.” They are staying in Accordion for dinner tonight. Mirage just nods. “… Um… I said this once but I will say it again, thank you for defending us. Me and Danny.” Mirage didn’t say anything. Crusher lay back. “So… I never have siblings before. How do you and your sibling's hybrids form work?” Crusher asked, trying to come up with a conversation. Mirage sigh. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” Mirage asked, don’t want to talk with anyone. “Oh, come on. You clearly need someone to talk with. Plus, everyone is pretty busy, if you ask me.” Mirage looks around the house and sure enough, everyone is busy.
“Fine. Sibling hybrids were bonded to be together. It didn’t matter what type of hybrid you are, as long as you’re a sibling or a family member, you could always share your magic.” Mirage answered his question.
“And if other hybrids don’t have magic?”
“Then you share them your strength. I don’t have magic but I share my strength with my siblings. Any other question?” Mirage asked, clearly wanting to be alone. “Well, back in the mall, Danny and Annesa ran straight toward you after we got back. Mind tell me what’s that about?” Oh boy. How does he explain this to him? Let’s see… “You know how dangerous the defend mode will be if we can’t control it?” Crusher nods and gives him a thumbs-up.
“Hybrids who can’t control their defense mode will be taken over by their anger. Like an evil side of you takes control. The only way to stop it is when your loved one is near you to comfort you. It doesn't matter if it is your family or friends. Mine is Danny and Annesa." Mirage finally finished explaining as Crusher hums. Since he has no siblings, he could bet Danny is the one to comfort him if he is in his defense mode. "OK, everyone! It's time to eat!!!" Scottie yelled from the kitchen as Crusher and Mirage stood up, walked into the kitchen, and started eating. Cameron and Amelia start fighting again and Scottie is the one who shuts them down again. Amelia almost, ALMOST, started a food fight.
After eating, everyone starts heading back to their home. Once Amelia opened the door, Danny made a beeline to the kitchen and put away the stuff in the fridge. Mirage and everyone else start heading to the bathroom and take a shower, calling it for the day. Once Mirage was ready to sleep, he saw a glow in his pocket. He walked over and took out the yellow feather. Surprisingly it wasn't ruined since it has been in his pocket for a day. Mirage completely forgot about the feather. He then turn back to other two feather, which didn't show any sign of glowing.
Mirage sighed again and put the yellow feather near his pillow again. The light yellow reminds him of Danny when he uses his magic. Mirage turns and faces the ceiling. 'Today is a tiring day.' Mirage heard a knock on his door. "Come in!" Danny opens the door and closes it, sitting at the end of Mirage's bed. "What's wrong?" Mirage asks. "I just want to talk about what happened during the mall. Crusher told me everything." Mirage feel himself froze a bit.
"Mirage, I know I wasn't there but whatever that lady said or did, don't think too much about it."
"Danny-"
"No, I don't want to hear it. Whatever happened is not your fault. I don't want you to think too much about it." Mirage didn't say anything and moved toward Danny and hugged him. "Danny, fratellino, After our father and mother passed away, you had been taking care of us for so long. But please, don't over work yourself or put too much stress on you. It won't be healthy for your health." Danny touched and hugged Mirage back. "I will try..."
"Aww... Cute and whatever. Can we now sleep?" Danny's cures asked. 'Shut up and let us enjoy this moment.' Mirage and Danny continue to hug each other and finally let go after 2 minutes. Danny then saw the yellow feather next to Mirage's pillow and the other two were on a table beside his bed. "Um... should I be asking why do you put that feather next to your pillow?"
"Why not?"
Danny didn't say anything but chuckles. "OK, whatever. Let's go to sleep. It's getting late." Danny stood up and went back to his and Crusher's room. "Night." Mirage waves and lay back down to bed, slowly falling asleep.
First Next
--------------------------------------------
This is chapter 2 of my 'Hybrid Au' story. I hope you guys enjoy this. If you have any questions, ask right away! Fanart accepted!
#the henry stickmin collection#thsc oc#thsc#henry stickmim collection#danny felizima#Mirage Felizima#annesa felizima#ulle meadows#jay benson#thsc crusher#scottie#thsc violin#thsc accordion#amelia copperbottom#thsc nicole#brutus dan gerbreaker#cameron calvin#hybrid au
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viette hydacinthe and floyd leech. (late night thoughts.)
(Posting this before i start posting kacy x viette content)
Floyd Leech truly lived up to his name, Leech.
Viette is such a werid name hehe.
Yesterday, he toke my headphone and wouldn't give them back until I got him some sweets.
Hmm...this pushie star fishie gave me is so soft...
His hugs aren't bad through.
Star fishie is so squishy.
He's so sweet sometimes too.
Do you think she likes me too?
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The late nights of Floyd peacefully sleeping are long gone, and Jade is getting concerned. Sometimes he would find Floyd making jewelry of pearls and charms at late hours, or on his phone with his ear phones plugged in. Other times he would be in the Octavinelle kitchen, attempting to make what smelled like suger cookies.
'Since when did he like suger cookies?"
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This disappearing without a trace shit is getting to my head.
Leona's drowsy, half awake mind shifts to his best friend, Viette. Lately, Viette's been off somewhere else lately, doing god knows what. And you know what? He's gonna find out.
Through Ruggie.
She better have a good fucking excuse for ditching me again.
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"Floyd? Floooooyd? Fl-"
A hand covers Viette's mouth, and she hears a close giggle behind her. Floyd Leech. The most annoying guy in the world, and her new boyfriend.
"Hiii star fishiee" Floyd stretches ou his sentence, wrapping his arm around Viette, holding her gently.
The two were behind a closed off tree near Ramshackle, where they met everyday.
"I made somethin for ya." Floyd says, handing Viette a blue box. "I made it." He smiles, cheeks flushed and eyes focused on Viette.
"Th-thank you." Flustered, Viette opens said gift to reveal a pearl necklace with a swan charm in the middle.
"Ah, lemme put it on ya." Floyd smoothly mentions, taking the necklace and putting it around her neck.
'Floyd, when you give a woman a peice of jewelry, always always help her put it on!' His mama once said.
-
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last week's show was recorded over the weekend due to family stuff but we're back on wlur with a new show at 8pm followed by the proper debut of last week's show at 10pm. tune in live or stream last week's show on mixcloud!
no love for ned on wlur – july 12th, 2024 from 8-10pm
artist // track // album // label dirty three // love changes everything v // love changes everything // drag city memorials // cut it like a diamond // memorial waterslides // fire radiation risks // lungs in the water // strawberry quick // radiation risks delivery // digging the hole // digging the hole digital single // heavenly erik nervous // ramblin' gamblin' man // (bandcamp mp3) // (self-released) germ house // under my head // no sleep til palestine is free! compilation cassette // girlsville victoria // creative frenzy // treats // scenic drive zuzu's petals // feel like going home // the music of your life // twin/tone program // sparks // it’s a sign // anti fade hound // current affairs // but mostly it was grim ep // slack jaw lenny roybal // little daisy // soft summer breezes- the corby label compilation // numero group cassandra jenkins // only one // my light, my destroyer // dead oceans keith freund // sprite loop // trash can lamb // soda gong chris cohen // laughing // paint a room // hardly art th blisks // knuckledust // elixa // efficient space lea bertucci // in anticipation of (excerpt) // hold music // (self-released) luke stewart silt trio // you see? // unknown rivers // pi patrick shiroishi, samuel goff and camila nebbia // listening to quasars // diminished borders cassette // cacophonous revival sml // three over steel // small medium large // international anthem oiro pena // mythical mist // puna // we are busy bodies the lijadu sisters // come on home // horizon unlimited // numero group sault // act six - lessons // acts of faith // forever living originals blu and evidence featuring domo genesis and navy blue // lights at night // los angeles // bigger picture tha god fahim and sadhu gold // don't half do it // dump gawd: tha knocking of loose // lowtech twiliters // restless love // eccentric soul- the cuca label compilation // numero group your heart breaks // blood brothers // harsh tokes and bong jokes // this will be our summer del amitri // sticks and stones girl // del amitri // chrysalis milky wimpshake // heterosexuality is a construct // encore, un effort! // fortuna pop! la la delivery // i feel nice when i play this guitar // from within ep // (self-released) kids on a crime spree // white light/white heat // oakland weekender 2024- tribute to the velvet underground cassette // oakland weekender mt. misery // lunch break // lunch break digital single // prefect
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Weremayhem: Song of Beasts. Ch 39: Drift Apart
In the basement of the Shack, there was a set up for a radio podcast. “Peace to the planet. Charlamagne Tha God here. Live from LA today and I’m taking a break from the world's most dangerous morning show to give y’all a little Mayhem instead.” said Charlamagne. The mayhem had headphones on and most were looking at their phones.
“In the building right now,” he added. Hannah and Nora were in the recording area.
“All right,” said Zoot. The band agrees.
“Amen. Amen.” said Dr. Teeth.
“How y’all feeling?” asked Charlamagne.
“We are most humblised to be in the presence of “The God '' replied the ginger haired male.
“And thank you for creating butterflies and snowflakes and mini horses” said Janice with a smile.
“They’re like the baby dolphins of the land.” she added. The God looks confused.
“Do you know Santa?” asked the saxophonist.
“Yeah. You do know I’m not “The God”, right?” asked Charlamagne.
“I’m just Tha God. It’s a difference” he added.
“Oh!” the band said.
“Yeah. That makes sense” replied Floyd.
“Okay. For sure” replied the blonde female. Zoot took a photo with his camera, the flash was on.
“Psst. Hey, I can take photos with my phone” said the dark blue haired male.
“Zoot here has always been our shutterbug,” said Teeth. “Posting his Polaroids on the ceiling of our van” the ginger haired male added.
“Yeah, now he posts on Instagram. Have you ever heard of this Instagram?” asked Floyd Pepper.
“Sure” replied Tha God with a confused look on his face. Camera shutter clicks as Zoot took another photo.
“Tik-Tok” said Animal as he snores in his sleep next to the host.
“What’s up with Animal? He gonna be aight?” asked Charlamagne in a worried tone.
“Oh, yeah, yeah. No, my man’s a little tuckered from all that tiking and toking and dancing and rocking” replied the doc with a chuckle.
“Tok-tok” said the drummer.
“At least your hard work has produced some new music, right?” asked Tha God.
“Oh, indeed it has” replied Floyd with a laugh.
“I just wrote a jingle on spec for IKEA. Wanna hear it? It goes like this” he added before he started to sing the jingle.
“I thought we’d talk about the new album,” said Charlamagne. “You’re working on a solo project, Floyd?” he added.
“Not just me. Uh..” Floyd Pepper started to say. “Oh, Lips here is working on a Ted talk. Save the world: the red haired male said as he looked at the blonde male.
“Oh, that’s dope,” replied Tha God with a smile on his face.
“Yeah, dope it is, mister…” Lips started to say before it got turned into mumbles.
“And my solo project is, well, more of a duo with my lady friend, Penny” replied Dr. Teeth.
“Which reminds me,” the doc started to say before he clears his throat.
“Please subscribulate to our YouTube channel by typing in the letters “H-T-T-P,” the ginger haired male starts to tell the web address of the youtube channel. Animal was snoring next to the band leader.
“Then comes two dots all stacked up” Teeth added.
“Then two lazy lines that lean to the right, and then a “W,” “W” and another “W,” the good doctor said. The drummer almost fell over but caught himself before falling back to sleep.
“And just to clarify, do not type the letter “U” twice” he added. “I mean an actual W” said Dr. Teeth.
“Aren’t they supposed to be talking about the album?” asked Hannah to her sister who had a look of horror on her face.
“Yes. Yes, they are” replied Nora.
“And then type a period or as the kids say, dot” said the doc as he kept telling the address to the microphone.
“And then you write C-O-M” he added.
“What was that address again?” asked Floyd. Before Teeth could spell it out all again like a spelling bee, Tha God cut him off.
“It’s cool. I’m familiar with that” said Charlamagne.
“As are we” replied the ginger haired male.
“The information superhighway has been a truly wonderific road to travel,” he added with a smile.
“Oh, for sure. We’re, like, all finding our individual voices” replied Janice with a smile on her face.
“Shout-out to my loyal followers,” she added. “They call themselves the “Foresureleans” the blonde female said.
“And they call me their spirit mother,” she added. The band all “Aw”
“That’s sweet,” said Floyd Pepper.
“Wow, Spirit Mother. Listen, if all of y’all are doing your own thing, does this mean the band’s taking a break?” Tha God asked in a confused tone.
“No. No, no, no, that would never happen” replied the red haired male.
“But now that you mention it, I would dig a brief hiatus, so I can focus on my solo career,” he added.
“Man, you so deserve that, Floyd Pepper” replied Dr. Teeth.
“Well, thank you very much, Mr. Dr. Teeth” replied Floyd.
“And may every fiery pepper you and Penny feast upon, bring you one step closer to your dream” he added with a soft smile.
“Well, isn’t that lovely?” replied the ginger haired male.
“So, y’all are breaking up?” said Chralamagne.
“It’s more like we’re lovingly coming together to hastily go in our separate directions” replied the doc.
“Did the band just break up?” asked Label Lady in an upset tone.
“Like, totally, and as my Goopy gal pal Gwyneth would say, “We’re consciously un-banding” said Jancie.
“I think the band just broke up,” said Hannah in a fear-filled tone. Her sister have a look of horror on her face with a bit of anger too.
“Someone needs to do something” replied Nora as she started to stammer.
“Yeah! You, Nora! You need to do something” replied Nora’s sister.
“I…Argh!” yelled Label Lady as she quickly ran out of the recording room. This was a huge mess and it quickly became a problem.
“This just might be the friendliest band breakup in the history of music” said Tha God.
“No, stop. Sorry, sorry” said the black haired female. “Ignore, Mr. Tha God. Hi, the band is still a band” she added.
“Hey! It’s Label Lady” said Floyd pepper. “Come here, so we can thank you for all you’ve done for us.” he added with a smile on his face.
“Oh, so, it’s her fault that the band is breaking up” said Charlamagne.
“No, no. Not my fault” Nora quickly replied. The band was nodding their heads to agree with the host.
“Oh, come on, now. She’s just being modest” replied Teeth.
“It was specifically Nora Singh and Nora Singh alone that connected us to a whole new world wide web of friends” he added.
“Which broke up the band” replied Tha God.
“Correct” replied the ginger haired male as the rest of the band agrees.
“No, no. No, let’s table the breakup talk, because I’m actually here to officially announce that next week. The Electric Mayhem will be doing a surprise concert at…” the black haired female started to say until the doc cut her off.
“Oh, no can do,” replied the good doctor.
“Next week, I’ll be indisposed. Feasting upon the finest fiery flavors of Finland and beyond land” he added.
“Okay” replied Charlamagne.
“Ooh,” replied Lips.
“Since when?” asked Label Lady, trying to hide that she is very upset.
“Since ten seconds ago” replied Dr. Teeth.
“Uh, Penny texted. She heard the band’s taking a hiatus and immediately booked a romantic worldwide voyage” he added.
“Oh, that’s nice!” replied Tha God.
“Penny’s listening to this? Right now?” Nora asked. The doc nods his head.
“Great stuff. Thank you for the exclusive” said Charlamagne.
“No! I didn’t give you ant details on the…'' the black haired female try to say.
“I’d love to keep talking but we’ve outta time. Sorry” replied Tha God. Animal’s eyes quickly go wide open.
“Time! Tik-tok, tick-tok, tick-tok!” said the drummer as he started to dance. The good doctor laughs.
“Would you like to be a Forsurelean?” asked Janice.
“No” Charlamagne quickly replied.
“There he goes,” said Dr. Teeth as he watches the wild man dance.
“Um, Teeth?” asked Nora.
“Yes, Label Lady?” he replied.
“May I speak to you in private?” she replied.
“Sure, I guess,” replied the ginger haired male.
The black haired female takes the band leader up the stairs and shuts the door behind them. She takes a deep breath. “Teeth,” Label Lady started to say.
“Yes?” Teeth replied.
“Have you even noticed Lewis and Annie?” she asked.
“Who?” asked the good doctor with a confused look on his face. Nora’s face went pale. Did Teeth forget his own kids!?
“Teeth, Lewis and Annie are your kids. Remember?” the black haired female said.
“No? I don’t have any kids” replied the doc.
“Teeth! Lewis came to me today, crying. He was crying because you, Lips, and Zoot weren't paying attention or taking care of them since you got your phones!? How could you forget your own kids?!” snapped Nora.
“I don’t have any kids, Label Lady. Lips? Zoot? We’re friends” replied the ginger haired male.
“You do have kids. You have kids since day one I met you and the band. Now, they aren’t real!? Don’t tell me that you are a…deadbeat dad!” hissed Label Lady. She didn’t know why she was snapping at the band leader but…it felt right. The black haired female couldn’t let Lewis and Annie get hurt, not have any parents in their life.
Dr. Teeth was silent. A flash of anger in his eyes but he looked away. “Whatever” he said before opening the door to the basement and heading back down stairs.
Nora huff. She has failed Lewis and Annie. A tear run down her cheek. “I’m Sorry” she mumbles under her breath.
#weremayhemau#muppet mayhem#dr teeth and the electric mayhem#the muppets#dr teeth#janice muppets#animal muppet#zoot muppet#floyd pepper#lips muppet#nora singh#hannah muppet mayhem#lewis teeth#annie teeth
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- What I *want* to know if how to get to your home/when you're your most vilnerable but I'll settle for what's your favourite toy?
- I think I already followed you and can't remember why other than non-binary horror fan sexy. But I turned on notifications bc you reblogged something with me with cute tags.
- I'm thinking about how to disguise my erection in this skirt. (More SFW answer: what I want to change my middle/surname to)
- Compliment: you'd be an excellent protagonist in a horror movie.
- This or that: Never have (any kind of) sex again or get stuck in a 48 time loop (let's say Early November midweek)
- Advice: How do I take better nudes/make use of filters?
- Secret: (Always hate this question because I don't tend to feel shame/hide things) I have no idea what I'm doing with my life and just want to do dumb shit/enjoy myself before I die (but I can't help wanting to help others).
- Things I associate with you: violent sexual depravity, gothic vibes, semi-sexual cuddles.
- Anything! Unionise! The only way we're getting out of this is together so go help yoir neighbours, love one another, and remind your local politician that they work for you, not the other way around.
💜
A long one 💜 here we go
- I'm definitely not stoned enough to fully answer that but damn, hot, im basically vulnerable 24/7 but I will say when I'm super sleep deprived and toked up late at night / super early mornings would be the best time to sneak in and take advantage of my pliability / my fav toy is someone's mouth ;b
- awww im honored I made it to notifications on status haha 🥰💖
- you shouldn't disguise it, in fact you should show it off either in a post or in the dms ;>💜
- I gotta say one of the better compliments I've ever received 🥰 I like to think I'd look pretty hot running/fighting for my life while covered in blood
- this or that : I'd definitely go with the time loop honestly I think it'd be kinda fun to fuck around with and that time of year has the best rainy cold weather where I live, plus I'm h y p e r sexual so I'd probably implode if I couldn't cum or make someone else cum ever again
- honestly Idk why I get compliments about how I take nudes/selfies cause I just take a shit ton from different angles then pick like 3 I kinda like and play around with the filter settings 😅 all I can say is experiment with every angle possible, prop up and set a timer for photos and if your phone doesn't have that option snapchat and other apps do !
- i totally understand that and can relate maybe a lil too much haha (except for the shame part, thanks to anxiety and cptsd I feel shame just for existing 😮💨)
- well shit 😅 thank you that's very accurate but way to call me out lmfao
- Hell ! Yes ! We're all here for a good time not a long time and I'm always gonna wanna spread as much love and kindness as I can no matter what 💖
Thank you lovely for the ask 💜
#thank you anon 💜#feralbeeast ramble#finally some good fucking food#seriously i miss having a bunch of asks and interactions so i love seeing these in my inbox 💜#ask answered#nsft#nonbinary#pansexual#poly#sub leaning switch#dms and asks are open 🖤#alt babe
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