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prettyandsarcastic · 3 months
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Playing as an Asshole MC and chickening out quickly because I love the cast too much :(
meanwhile one priority for this rewrite is writing even meaner asshole choices and I have to prepare myself to write scenes where the cast is treated like crap :(
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prettyandsarcastic · 3 months
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This is HIVEmind Lead Singer - Khai Rhodes [x] [x]
If you can't tell from the HIVEmind playlist Khai just wants to be a Problem. She's full of pent up rage and is here to cause problems on purpose.
[This is wanderer]
Infamous by @infamous-if
Templates [x] [x] [x]
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prettyandsarcastic · 3 months
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Khai's turn for a look at her phone and socials. You best believe she got that tattoo covered/reworked.
[Munroe]
[Infamous by @infamous-if]
[Templates: twitter - phone & IG]
[Icons: Flaticon]
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prettyandsarcastic · 3 months
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A little peak at Munroe's socials and her phone. She's DEFINITELY not still in love with her ex and touring with him will absolutely NOT be a problem.
[munroe redding is my mc for @infamous-if]
[templates: phone & IG - twitter]
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prettyandsarcastic · 3 months
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This is wanderer Lead Singer - Munroe Redding [x] [x] [x]
I saw @indorilnerevarine do this for their Infamous band Two Headed Mother and knew I had to do it for my girls. If you see a mistake, no you do not, this took me way too long and I had to start over twice. So if you see something, say nothing lmao. Khai and HIVEmind will be next.
Infamous by @infamous-if
Templates: [x] [x] [x]
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prettyandsarcastic · 3 months
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This is HIVEmind Lead Singer - Khai Rhodes [x] [x]
If you can't tell from the HIVEmind playlist Khai just wants to be a Problem. She's full of pent up rage and is here to cause problems on purpose.
[This is wanderer]
Infamous by @infamous-if
Templates [x] [x] [x]
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prettyandsarcastic · 3 months
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Some poor suffering gobs!!
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prettyandsarcastic · 3 months
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Spicy Snippet #2: Victoria
VICTORIA - ORION
Orion's snippet was 600 words, and now this one is 1.3k. I fear it'll only get longer and longer haha.
When you woke up, the last thing you thought you’d be doing was helping Victoria with her movie audition. With that said, when she texted you to come over you didn’t hesitate.
When Victoria Valentine summons you, you come. 
Victoria told you only the basics of the movie: it’s a melodramatic spy thriller set in an alternate universe. The two characters are in a clandestine relationship, spies from warring sides. You don’t even know what kind of acting that entails, but Victoria seems confident in your ability to help her.
“Stand there.” Victoria points to a spot on the floor and you shuffle backward, out of your depth as she sets up the camera and reads over her lines. You’re a singer, definitely not an actor, but Victoria has been good with trying to keep you calm…even with the knowledge that a director is going to see this. It’s not your audition—you’re simply an accessory to the main subject—but it still leaves you nervous. You don’t want to ruin this for her, she’s been talking about  this all week. “Here.” She hands you a copy of the script, and you’re about to read it over when she stops you. “Don’t!”
You smile. “Should I be scared?”
“No.” She laughs. “I don’t want you to overthink it. Sometimes it's better to discover as you explore." She shrugs. "An acting teacher of mine told me that once."
You nod. "You're the professional."
Victoria clears her throat, throwing her hair over one shoulder. Your eyes latch onto the milky curve of her neck, the birthmarks smattered on the skin, before a lump forms in your throat. You look away, trying to focus. 
Focus. Yes. Focus. 
She whispers a tiny, endearing ‘action’ which makes you bite your lip so as not to laugh. Her eyes catch onto the attempt and her lip twitches upward into a smile before she steels her face. You practically see her turn into someone else, the scene clicking in place and completely changing her demeanor.
“You have nothing else to say to me?” she reads, “after all that I’ve done for you, is this how we part?” In an instant, you’re transported elsewhere. Victoria has a way with her words—she emotes so well, the micro-expressions on her face hypnotizing you. Her eyes, two dark pits, gaze into yours with a heat that has your body burning up. Her lips, painted her signature red, are parted and her chest rises and falls in a melodic beat that you can’t help but focus on. 
Your heart races like a schoolgirl in proximity to her crush, but you clear your throat. “I have nothing for you. At least nothing that words can properly express.”
Victoria inches forward and even though the script directs her to do just that, you inch back. Something about her makes you nervous—an intimidating air to her that has you questioning every move you make. She stares at you with artificial steel in her eyes, mixed with something else. Something hotter. “We have never been good with words, have we?” 
“No,” you say, forgetting that you’re in a scene. You hold her gaze, your eyes drinking her in: the round fullness of her cheeks, how long her eyelashes are, how her freckles remind you of a constellation you want to swim in. “No, we haven’t.” Your stomach is in knots, the feeling of tightness growing when her eyes fall on your lips.
“Kiss me.” 
You blink. Your mind is in a fog and it takes you a good second to process what she just asked. “Eh—”
Her eyes widen and they flicker to the camera. “It’s part of the script,” she whispers, “kiss me.” Then she raises a brow. “Unless you don’t want to—”
You want to. You very much want to.
Overcome with desire, you lean forward and press your lips to hers. A small squeak of surprise leaves her mouth, the sound vibrating against yours, before she melts into you and pulls you closer. The smell of roses and vanilla rises in the air, enveloping you as your mouth moves against hers, the warmth of her tongue snaking into your mouth making your whole body shudder. 
You want to drink her in, have every inch of her. Her enthusiasm only pushes you to kiss her deeper, your effort to bring her closer making you two stumble back. She pulls away from you with a gasp, her lipstick smudged, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes wide. 
You’re breathless, wiping at your face, likely smudging the lipstick she transferred on you even more.
She stares you, her face a tantalizing mixture of surprise and desire. “I—” She clears her throat and glances at the script, exhaling. You can’t look away from her; your body practically vibrating at the way her hair sticks up in every direction, her lipstick smeared. The fact that you did that…it only makes you want to do more. To see her undone. 
No. Focus. I need to focus.
This is her career. You came to help her. You have to focus.
She looks at the script, tries to read the words, before giving up with a breathless laugh and a shrug. “I don’t even know what’s going on.” You barely have time to brace for impact before she’s pulling you back toward her, claiming your mouth again. This time, there’s no surprise, no uncertainty. She commands your mouth like it’s hers to take, and you’re glad to give it. 
 She pushes you back until you’re against the wall, every part of her body against yours. You can feel every curve, the heat of her wrapping around you until you’re grinding against her, your body aching for more. Your hand goes to her long hair, pulling on it slightly. God, you love her hair. So soft, and such a big part of her that when you pull on it again, you want her to know just how much you want her. She moans into your mouth, the sound making you dizzy. The tangible feel of her desire has you seeing stars, your body growing hot when she catches your lower lip with her teeth, sucking into her mouth before kissing you again. 
“This isn’t part of the script,” you gasp when she pulls away from you to grab at her shirt. You follow her, your fingers shaking when you help her out of her clothes. Every time you sense an opening, you lean in for another kiss, unable to be away from her too long.
“We’re improvising,” she replies, tossing her shirt aside. She's about to go in for another kiss when you stop her, the moment finally dawning on you.
You clear your throat, your mouth watering when you see the lace of her bra. Somehow, the frantic energy has died away to something more quiet as you stare at her. She stands there, patient and still slightly breathless, watching you as you watch her. 
You want her. You want her so bad. 
Your hand reaches up, hovering above the strap of her bra, and you catch her suck in a sharp breath in anticipation. The clothes are too much of a barrier. You want it off. You want it all off—
In your periphery, your gaze latches onto something else. 
The red light of the camera. Still filming.
“Shit—” Victoria gives you an odd look, and you gesture to the camera. When she turns around to face it, you say, “it’s still filming.”
“Oh…” With a muffled curse, she rushes over to click it off, laughing a little. “Imagine if this were a live audition.” She looks over her shoulder to you, red-faced. The heat of earlier has cooled enough for you to look at her more clearly, and she appears a little sheepish. “Would’ve given them quite the show.”
Another laugh escapes you, and you move forward to get close to her again, standing behind her. When you move her hair to kiss the back of her neck, she sucks in a breath.  “What we’re about to do…let’s just keep this one for our eyes only.”
She laughs, and she certainly doesn’t protest. 
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prettyandsarcastic · 3 months
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Spicy Snippet #3: M!Seven
VICTORIA - ORION - F!SEVEN
The high you feel hearing the crowd after a performance is one that can’t be replicated. Not even the strongest drugs can make you feel this…alive. Nothing else in the world can make you feel this alive. 
Aside from Seven, of course. 
But if the danger of the drug is measured by how strong the addiction is, you fear Seven Lawless is definitely the worst. 
Or best, depending on how you look at it.
That thought runs through your mind now when Seven takes your hand and motions to the bathroom. Your friends are too busy riding that post-performance high by dancing together, and you look away from them to give Seven a nod.
The sly, evil smile that rises on his face makes a shiver run down your spine, and you allow him to pull you through the crowd. 
When you two reach the bathroom, Seven looks under each stall as you throw cold water on your face. You’re panting, sweaty, and your skin still burns with heat from the performance. When Seven is satisfied that you two are alone, he turns to look at you through the mirror. The secret smile on his face makes your skin burn hotter, and you’re certain that performing on stage to a stadium of people won’t ever hold a candle to how he makes you feel with one look.
He keeps his eyes trained on yours when he walks over to you, stopping to stand behind you. A lump forms in your throat, and a swell of excitement and nervousness rises in the pit of your stomach when he puts his hands on the sink, looking away from the mirror to tilt his head at you, gazing at your face. 
“Hi.” 
You manage a smile when you drag your eyes away from the mirror to turn your cheek, meeting his eyes. “Hey.” 
His humor fades away once his eyes settle on your mouth and you subconsciously lick your lips. Doing the same to his own, he appears debate something for a brief moment. Then, with heated eyes, he leans forward and presses his mouth to yours. 
The action is cautious, delicate, which is funny considering Seven was just head banging on stage minutes ago. You can taste the strawberry chapstick on his mouth, and the heat of his tongue against yours makes your legs feel like goo. Kissing Seven is still something completely new to you. 
After being best friends for years, you thought you knew all there was to know about Seven. It’s only recently that you discovered there’s a version of him you were completely in the dark about. Like how he kisses. How, sometimes, you look at him while you two are singing on stage and feel like he’s undressing you with his eyes. Or how he makes a certain sound in your mouth when you kiss him just right. A sound only you can pull out of him. 
When he pulls away, it’s too soon. He smiles at you. “You did really well on stage tonight.” 
“Is that why you brought me to the bathroom?” you say with a smile of your own. “To compliment me?”
“Maybe.” Your nose brushes his when he moves his head to kiss you again, chaste and brief. You ache for more. “Are you disappointed? Is it not enough?”
“Not nearly,” you admit, the words leaving you in a sigh. 
His eyes glitter with happiness and he chews on his lower lip in thought before saying, “I like when you want me. For a long time, I wasn't sure if you did. Well...I hoped you did."
You hate how easily saying things like that come to him. “So do I.” 
“Well, I want you all the time so that’s not really anything special…” 
You sputter out a laugh, looking around the bathroom. Like most club bathrooms, it sits in disrepair from lack of maintenance. It’s dirty, and hardly romantic. When you look back at Seven, he’s looking at you with half a grin, already knowing what you’re going to say next. “Even now?”
“Especially now.” He looks at you. “Sweaty from performing and we’re alone…”
You snort and Seven smiles before he leans in again. All pretenses flee, and your skin grows hot when you turn fully to face him. He presses his body against yours, pushing you against the sink. 
You deepen the kiss, your hand going to his neck, pulling him closer. Seven’s chest vibrates against yours when he groans, his palm reaching under your shirt to swipe across your stomach, the heat of his skin against yours making your desire shoot up until you feel yourself reaching between you two, your fingers toying with the zipper of his pants. Feeling exactly just how much he wants you.
Seven pulls away, putting his hand on yours, stopping you. When you look at him, he shoots a pointed look at the door. Understanding, you smile and push yourself off the sink, grabbing his hand. It’s your turn to lead him and you do so to one of the empty stalls. 
The moment you lock it, Seven is on you. He pushes you against the door of the stall. He stifles your gasp with another kiss, this one hurried and urgent as if time is running out. 
When he pulls away to kiss your neck, you bring a hand to his hair to guide him. The strands are soft between your fingers, and Seven smiles against your skin. And then, between kisses, he says, “When do you think we’re going to tell the band about this?”
“Never,” is your immediate reply, and his kiss melts into a bite that makes you stifle a moan. You drop your hand from his hair to the waistband of his pants, forcing it down his hips. “They’d never let us live it down.” 
You and Seven have been hiding away for the past few weeks. You don’t remember the exact reason why you two agreed not to tell anyone, but it had something to do with “not ruining the delicate ecosystem of the dynamic” whatever that means.
“Do you think they already know?” he manages, the words coming out strangled when you hook a finger over the band of his boxers, pulling them down. "They must have an idea." Seven swallows when he follows your gaze to the space between you two.
“Don’t know,” you say, kissing him again. He bites your lower lip in playful warning and you pull away to spit on your hand. “And right now, don’t care.”
“Eventually we’re going to have to tell the—oh.” You know exactly how to shut him up. Your hand wraps around him and he jerks his hips forward, unable to stop the moans from leaving your lips. 
You kiss him again, and he puts two hands on your cheeks. You've barely settled into the rhythm he likes most when the bathrooms swing open, and Seven’s eyes widen. Sensing another groan from him, you put your hand on his mouth and his brows furrow together in panic. Then you quicken your pace and his drops his head against the door, his face melting back into that expression of carnal pleasure you like to see so much. Seven completely forgets what he was worried about. 
“…you think we’ll be able to come back next week?” You almost choke the moment the voice rises in the air, and your hand falters. Seven makes a frustrated sound in his throat and he puts a hand on your arm, urging you to continue. 
“You heard that?” Iris asks. 
You look at Seven with wide eyes, and his brows furrow in faux innocence. “Mfhfnmf?” he mutters against the skin of your palm. You want to scream in frustration—at Devyn. At Iris. At their impeccable timing. 
You hear the doors of the stalls slamming open and Seven shoots you a look. Ah. Shit. The last thing you need is for your friends to find out you and Seven are…whatever you are right now. 
You step back and Seven fumbles for his pants, grumbling in disappointment as he buttons it closed. You look around, uncertain at first, before you step on the toilet so only one pair of feet are seen in the stall. Seven spins around in confusion, not knowing what to do with his hands and...with himself, and you point at the door so he understands. 
“I swear I heard that,” Iris says. “What if someone is dying or something?”
“It’s…me,” Seven calls out. His voice is thick with desire, still hoarse from what you two just finished doing.
Well, finished isn’t exactly the word. 
“Seven?” Iris ventures. “You alright?”
“Yeah, just felt sick,” he responds, looking back with a shrug. The heat in the pit of your stomach hasn’t gone away, and when he looks at you, it takes everything in you not to tell Iris and Devyn to fuck off somewhere. 
“You need a hand?” Devyn asks.
"A hand?" You hear Seven snicker, and you want to kick him. Though you can't stop your own smile. "Nuh-huh. I'm not throwing up or anything." Seven puts a cheek on the door, then his hands. He looks like he’s getting irritated. You understand—you want them gone.“I’m alright. I’ll meet you guys back outside.” 
Your legs are starting to hurt, you shift in order to give your muscles relief, but the toilet seat moves with you, making you slip. 
You scream, because what else is there to do when you're slipping face first off a toilet seat?
“Wha—” Seven barely has time to spin and catch you before you’re crashing into him, making his head clatter against the door. The sound echoes against the bathroom, and your friends are gasping.
"Ow..." Seven groans.
“Seven?!” A moment later you see Iris peeking out from under the stall, her eyes widening. “[MC]?”
“Heyyyy,” you drawl out casually, your body slumped over on Seven’s as he uses his arm to hold you up. He uses the other one to open the door, and it swings open pathetically until Devyn and Iris are looking at you with twin expressions of surprise. 
“Hey.” Seven nods his head in greeting, smiling awkwardly. He puts his hands together to lock his fingers behind your back, holding you to his chest.
Devyn glances at the both of you, lips parted. “What the fuck are you guys doing?”
“I…uh.” He swallows. “Thought I had a bowel problem. [MC] was just helping me in making sure nothing wrong’s down there.” He forces out a laugh. "All good."
You look at him, wanting to beam your disappointment into his brain. Really? That’s all you could come up with? 
“Ugh.” Iris waves a dismissive hand, walking away. “You two are so fucking weird sometimes. Go to the doctor! It's not normal to be that close!"
"You have no idea how close we are," Seven mumbles, and you nudge his rib. He coughs, and then smiles again.
Devyn stands there, not so easily convinced, but then she follows Iris out anyway. Not without shooting you two a look. 
When they��re gone, you two glance at each other. "I think it's time we tell them." You detangle yourself from him, adjusting your clothes.
Seven lets out a laugh, letting his head fall back against the stall wall.
“You think?” 
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prettyandsarcastic · 4 months
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Spicy Snippet #1: Orion
As a thank you for 6k, I will write a variation of romantic/suggestive stuff for the ROs. I don't usually write in those contexts because I like sticking to canon in order not to spoil it when the the time comes in-story, but I think we are overdue for some! Starting with Orion!
"This is inappropriate."
Even though the words are said through a throaty hum you can feel against your lips, you don't stop nipping at Orion's throat. He sits with one arm propped, the other on your back as you straddle him on the edge of the bed. Orion, with all of his complaints, is hilariously compliant. He moves his head to give you more space for his neck, shuddering when your biting turns to salacious swipes of your tongue.
"Should I stop?" you ask through your kisses, your words muffled. The question has Orion's arm gliding over you to hold you tighter, the answer loud and clear.
"Are you trying to give me a hickey?" he asks. His voice trails off when you lick just the right spot, making a small squeak of a whimper leave his lips. You've learned that Orion is a vocal participant, his breathy reactions only encouraging you further. "You know..." His throat bobs when he swallows. "Cameras." He can't even form a coherent sentence, which is the most satisfying part. "I will be on my best behavior."
"I doubt that—" In one swift move, Orion grabs you and rolls you over until he's hovering over you. You're breathless from both surprise and excitement. He has you pinned with his hands on either side of your face, and his cheeks are flushed.
"Can you imagine?" He says, leaning down to brush his lips against yours, featherlight. It makes your body shudder. "Us doing this in a room of executives?" He brushes his nose against yours with endless delicacy, teasing you. So close and yet not quite there. "Forced to watch?" His mouth goes to the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing your skin until you're swallowing. "Think of the scandal."
Another thing about Orion Quinn? He's a cheeky bastard.
You can hardly breathe, especially not when Orion sits up, towering over you as he begins unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes stay on you, his fingers deft and skilled, your gazes never breaking.
"You—" You swallow, propping yourself up on your elbows. "You would faint if that were to happen."
A low laugh escapes him, but his gaze turns hungry, heated at the thought. Almost as if fainting isn't what he would do at all. "You're right. HR would have me ruined."
"You are HR!" You lift your hand to put it on the last button that remains, fully intending to unbutton it for him. Orion puts his own hand over yours, directing it over the buckle of his belt. Your mouth waters. You know exactly what he wants, and he's not shy about telling you. "Knowing you," you swallow, using two fingers to remove the loop of the belt from the buckle, "you would punish yourself." "Saying that in this context is quite suggestive." He grins, taking the belt off and tossing it aside. Your fingers get to work on the button of his slacks.
"I'm being completely serious." You bite your lip, your body heating when he grabs your hand and plants a chaste, loving kiss to the inside of your palm, removing his pants with his other hand. "Get your mind out of the gutter, horndog."
"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all.
He proceeds to bend down, nuzzling his nose into your neck until you're letting out a surprised laugh, failing to swat him away when he continues to tickle you. Eventually, he stops. And then Orion Quinn begins doing something else that has you forgetting exactly what you two were even talking about. Doesn't matter.
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prettyandsarcastic · 4 months
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Chapter Two
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The second chapter of Book 2 is now up on Patreon. Join the Bog Witch tier to read it early. The public release is slated for December 1st.
In this chapter, join MC as they discover more about artisan alley, and go see their RO's. :)
🪷✨🪷✨ If you want to support me 🪷 ✨🪷✨ 
🌿 Free Demo 🌿Book 1 Steam🌿Book 1 Itch.io🌿🌿 Patreon 🌿Discord🌿FAQS🌿
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prettyandsarcastic · 4 months
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Aliens aren’t surprised when most of humanity is considered a ‘level 1 threat’, the lowest possible. although they are shocked when they scan a singular human and find that they are a ‘level 10 threat’, the highest there is.
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prettyandsarcastic · 4 months
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don't give up
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prettyandsarcastic · 5 months
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I’m …really normal about Malcolm Albright ……….. … . . . ……
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prettyandsarcastic · 5 months
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When it’s over. N7 helmet design inspired by the story of Mass Effect! I want to eventually make the entire armor set with this design in mind. Hopefully next year! Socials/Shop
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prettyandsarcastic · 5 months
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Was listening to "Over Your Dead Body" by Hot Milk and literally couldn't not think about Khai and Seven.
Like what if at some point duting BOTB, if, like other competition reality shows they have challenges each week in addition to the band's performance. And the scene I came up with was being forced to sing a song with another's bands lead singer in a head to head style challenge and improv lyrics. Like the band has the instrumentals but the singers have to come up with lyrics on the spot as a test of how well they think on their feet.
And of course the producers would put Seven and Khai together because it's OBVIOUS they cannot stand one another and it would make for great ratings. And then the song is just the two of them tearing into one another.
And the lyrics for "Over Your Dead Body" just go too well.
Seven: You're the Jesus of nowhere, mistaken grandeur. A fuckin' twat that stabbed my back and screwed me over. Do us a favour and disappear. You think you walk on water but it's piss all over your shoes
Khai: See you next Tuesday, I'm on a rampage. A hungry hypocrite that played me like a board game. Liar, liar, you're on fire, roll you up and make me higher. I'm broken, blue and bruised 'cause I'm waking from the nightmares of you
And then Khai would start the chorus: Always said that you'd die for me, but I won't lose sleep over your dead body. Drag me out of my misery, but I won't lose sleep over your dead body
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prettyandsarcastic · 5 months
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when can we fuck the ROs
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