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#world grooves show
ripio · 3 months
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Ripio on world grooves show - Channel Radio (Ashford - Kent - England)
#Ripio#WorldGroovesShow#ChannelRadio#Ashford#Kent#England
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p0rchc0ll4ps3 · 29 days
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and all the time the world unwinds i can't deny the way i feel and all these words they mean nothing at all
it stays in stella maris
it doesn't leave that room
but dawn comes, warm light over the east, warming the ruined streets of home. you were meant to be with me, here, for we are built, trained, conditioned to disappear
what comes next needs everything we got. elysium must wake
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djevilninja · 8 months
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We’re on a world tour with Mr. Malcolm McLaren; We’re goin’ each and every place, including Spain, Asia, Africa, Tokyo, Mexico. He went to the places where the people told him not go.
Malcolm McLaren and the World's Famous Supreme Team Show - Hobo Scratch (She’s Looking Like a Hobo)
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marypsue · 10 months
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⛅🌧
[from this meme]
🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.
You didn't specify a WIP, so how about...from the Steve/Nancy/Jonathan bodyswap AU, why can't we be ourselves like we were yesterday:
Robin’s still looking suspiciously at him. Jonathan swallows, hard. “I’m – trying something new. With the hair.”
“Yeah?” Robin gives the top of his head a long, assessing look. “Try something else.”
🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.
From later in the same WIP:
“Nance?”
“You don’t know how much I’ve thought about it,” Nancy starts, slowly, raising her face to study Jonathan’s window like the midday light pouring through it is absolutely fascinating. Steve wonders, a little, if that’s how Jonathan looks when he’s really absorbed in taking just the perfect photograph. If Nancy ever notices the way the sunlight at just the right angle casts Jonathan’s brown eyes in gold. He hopes so. Somebody should.
“The only reason Barb was there that night,” Nancy continues, relentlessly, “was because I asked her to come. The only reason she cut her hand was because I pushed her into doing that dumb drinking game. The only reason she stuck around after I told her to go home was – to keep me from doing anything stupid. Like I asked her to. She was my ride. She was my best friend. She wasn’t just going to leave me stranded, if it turned out you – if I changed my mind, or -”
She takes a deep breath in, and lets it out slowly and soundlessly before she turns to Steve. “You didn’t kill Barb.”
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nick-close · 1 year
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My really controversial opinion is that s2 of dndads is not good but it IS enjoyable.
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gxyztv · 9 months
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Let your voice shine through the crowd and make the world groove on in it with GXYZ Entertainment like our popular artists. To know more, click on the link in bio!
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majormeilani · 2 years
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i feel as though empress hates being a softie a lot and gets really embarrassed about it but only a few people have seen her soft side before though she'd rather hide that part of herself as best she can (unless like no one else is around then whoever she feels comfortable being soft to she will more but she also is very conscious of her reputation more than she used to be so sometimes she can still be reserved)
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keeps-ache · 2 months
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ah yiss. the golden garbage premium pass (free!)
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scorpius-rising · 3 months
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The worst thing about Genshin Impact is that despite everything it's still good
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hotvintagepoll · 2 months
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Propaganda
Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?
Maggie Smith (The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie)— Look, ok she's best known now for Downton Abbey and the Potter franchise, but the woman won an Oscar in 1969, so that makes her eligible in my oh so humble opinion. She starred opposite Olivier in her first major play role (which was filmed) and her wit and beauty was just the epitome of everything I wanted to be as a child
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Eartha Kitt:
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"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."
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"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."
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"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”
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"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."
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Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.
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Maggie Smith:
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ripio · 3 months
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Ripio on world grooves show - Channel Radio (Ashford - Kent - England)
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chucapybara · 24 days
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alright arlecchino hopping around in my head still so soft mornings with your darling knave!
oh, arlecchino being so utterly enamoured with you. she tends to wake up earlier than you do; a harbinger has many things to go about doing in a day, after all, and being one who manages the affairs of different house of the hearths across teyvat, it's no easy feat.
but on the off days, after a long night of making love to you, she finds herself trapped in your orbit, unable to escape. (not that she'd ever want to.) your soft, radiantly divine figure rests curled beside her, your breath tickling her cheek, and she loves it.
in the respite that comes, in this calm between the noise of her nightmares and of her day work, she finds that all the world is still when you are. an absence of howling, the absence of shades are substituted, if only for those few moments, with the gentle sunbeam that kisses your skin.
(she wishes she were the sun, for a brief time. oh, how her blood almost boils with envy for that heavenly star which gets to kiss you every morning before she does; and were it not for the fact that she loathed to wake you in such peaceful sleep, she may have done so already.)
arlecchino shifts, resting her head on her arm, facing you, observing every rise and fall of your unrobed shoulders, chest. her mind is quiet, silenced, lacking of any other thought except for you.
you, who is so precious to her, that she would rend heaven upon earth and bring down cities and crowns in your name if you asked her to. she who would raise armies and queendoms worshipping you—if she did not already dislike the thought of sharing you with another. (the notion of others gazing upon you with reverence to match hers is preposterous in its nature, so she strangles the thought in its crib.)
as she ponders her prayers for you, she notes how the blanket of your shared bed has dipped below your waist. arlecchino almost has the mind to tuck you back in, to preserve your comfort—all the more when she catches how you shiver, ever so slightly, when exposed to the naked air—but she realises doing so may only wake you.
and so she unfurls her wing of balemoon bloodfire, its crimson feathers catching the sun's rays, illuminating it as sunsets are wont to do. she drapes it over you in replacement for the blanket, mentally chiding it for doing a poor job at keeping you warm.
though, perhaps, this in and of itself was a blessing, too.
your expression eases, and so too does arlecchino's scarlet-eyed gaze soften. her wing rests soothingly around you, almost ticklish, exuding the hearthfire's homely coziness.
and it is this same ticklish sensation that rouses you, slow, steady. your lips part in a yawn, and you peek open a bleary eye, finding your sweet one already long having been observing you. your soul sings.
"good morning, lover," arlecchino murmurs fondly, pressing close. now that you're awake, she has no reservations about pulling you close. she loops an arm around your back, blackened hands ever gentle, ever soft.
you smile, still half-asleep, but savouring the affection. your own palm finds its way to arlecchino's spine, tracing delicately up and down, making your darling knave shiver.
(oh, how weak she finds herself at your touch. let all other things to which she be impenetrable, but for you, she spares a key.)
arlecchino is strong, and it shows in the grooves of her muscled form, tensing in the wake of your drowsed touch. she is especially vulnerable in the space just beside her wing, where you pay special attention, massaging lightly there and leaving tender brushes of your lips. fluttering kisses, with all the softness of rainbow rose petals on the gentle wind.
"morning, arle," you mumble in a wispy breath. you graze your fingertips some along the curve of her side, to the cursed ink on her arm (that is no more a curse than it is a part of the woman you love), tracing them as though you didn't already have every inch of arlecchino mapped out in your memory.
your eyes flutter closed, and your hand goes still, relaxed now on arlecchino's back once more as you are quickly returned to sleep's embrace—arlecchino cradling you, bloodfire wing secured around your form.
but this time, sleep itself has no choice but to share you with her.
all the time in the world could not compare to these tender, infinitisemal moments—your limbs tangled like vines, hair strewn across the pillows upon the bed that is only both yours to own, with you in her arms.
arlecchino's lips draw forth like a magnet, pressing tender kisses along your brow. "rest well, my dove."
and when she speaks, she hopes her faithful prayer follows you into your conscious, to warm your heart and remind you always of the devotion only your sweet knave holds, just for you. only for you.
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celtic-crossbow · 3 months
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Blood Ties Chapter 19
Series Masterlist
Warnings: strong depictions of illness; very minor suggestive situations
A/N: Super angsty with generous amounts of cuteness. Reader will eventually get to be a badass. But this chapter focuses on articulating the grave situation.
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You were pacing outside the bedroom door, wringing your hands just to keep as many parts of your body as possible moving so you wouldn’t combust. Hershel had insisted you wait outside in case it was something possibly contagious that took Daryl down. Even though you’d spent a lot of time close to him, you were showing no symptoms, so the veterinarian thought it best to be safe rather than sorry. 
You could hear Daryl coughing through the door, the sound sudden and harsh, followed by a groan each time that gave you hope that he’d possibly woke up. He’d been dead weight in your arms when everyone had burst in to help. The others had returned just in time, a heavy coat and gloves in tow for Daryl like you had requested. Rick and T-Dog had carried him up the stairs while Lori and Carol put forth effort to keep you back. You had shrugged them off and followed until Hershel stepped in. 
“Y/N, you’re gonna pace a groove into the floorboards.” Carol stood by, watching you, refusing to go about her evening duties and leave you alone. “Y/N.”
You finally paused but didn’t look at her. She didn’t get a chance to comfort you before the door opened. Hershel and Maggie stepped out, whispering between themselves in a way that made your chest tighten. 
“I’ll go get Beth and Carol to help me make a list. Carol?” The eldest Greene placed a hand on Carol’s arm, giving her enough time to assess you before she reluctantly followed. 
“Is he okay?” You asked quietly. You and Hershel were alone outside the door now, the old man’s face smooth with a calm you wished you could muster. 
“He likely had a virus that developed into pneumonia from breathing in the cold air. His lungs are full of fluid and inflamed, which accounts for the rattle when he breathes and, of course, the cough.”
“I know what pneumonia it is.” You interjected, a hint of irritation lacing your tone. “What needs to happen?”
“Ideally, we’d start an IV with fluids and antibiotics. If we can get the fluids and manage some oral antibiotics, we can make those work too. He needs those two things for certain. Fever reducers and cough suppressants would be beneficial. I will check for Tylenol in my things, though I fear I may have given you the last.” 
You crossed your arms above your belly, hugging yourself tightly, and bounced on the balls of your feet, your brain running on overdrive. “Maggie’s making a list?” Hershel nodded, hanging the stethoscope around his neck. “Okay, I’ll go see when we can leave.”
“Y/N, wait.” For an old man, he sure moved quickly, stepping into your path. You knew what he would say. He would advise you not to go, that you shouldn’t put your baby in danger. For fuck sake, you knew that. “I can’t tell you what to do. We’ve established that. And I know that Daryl means a lot to you.”
“With the utmost respect, Hershel, please get to the point.” Your tone was level though inside, you felt like yourself crumbling. The world just took and took and when you would start to feel safe, it didn’t hesitate to remind you of the devastation it could bring. 
“I’d like you to stay with Daryl.” Your rebuttal melted on your tongue when he held up a hand. “I will do everything in my power to care for him but I need to be able to care for you too. Maggie is capable. She’ll have help. Daryl needs you here.” 
“I just—”
“There will be no getting him to cooperate if he finds out you left. You know this.”
You threw back your head and let your arms fall. Of course he was right. And once again, you felt useless. “I know.”
“You know, you are doing more for that man in there than anyone in this group ever could hope to do and I’m not just speaking of the child.” He smiled at you with such kindness. It reminded you of your father, your eyes burning. “Remember that.”
You nodded and sniffed. The old man’s footsteps retreated as you leaned your forehead against the door. Daryl was coughing on the other side. Hershel would have told you if you shouldn’t go in. Most strains of pneumonia were not contagious beyond the virus or bacteria that caused them. If you hadn’t contracted the cold or flu that Daryl had before this, it was unlikely you’d be infected now. 
Turning the knob, you pushed on the door, steadily controlling how quickly it opened to keep it from making a lot of noise. Daryl was under the blankets, one arm lying across his stomach and the other at his side. His face was tilted away from you.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt but if you ventured to guess, he was likely not wearing anything. Hershel would have checked for bites. The hunter wouldn’t have kept that hidden. You knew that but maybe they didn’t. 
His chest rattled and wheezed with each breath, appearing to take a lot more effort than should be necessary. You wondered if they would search for oxygen tanks. Maggie is capable. They would. You needed to stay right there and not try to micromanage. Daryl needed you more. 
There was already an old, cushioned chair next to the bed. Perhaps Hershel used it or maybe Maggie moved it there for you. Regardless, you lowered yourself into it, remaining on the edge so you could easily reach Daryl’s hand. 
His skin was overly warm and dry, the sound accompanying each labored breath was somehow worse at that proximity. Seeing him so still reminded you of finding him injured back at the farm, how afraid you had been at the thought of losing him. That fear had experienced then resurfaced with a vengeance, squeezing your lungs so tightly that you imagined Daryl could breathe with more ease in that moment. 
“Prolly shouldn’t be in here.” 
You visibly startled, nearly sliding off the edge of the chair. “Jesus, Daryl, don’t do that.” You had to take a moment to get your heartrate under control before meeting his scarcely open eyes. It was as if whatever energy, whatever stubbornness, that had been keeping him going had just drained out of him. “How’re you feeling?”
“How ‘m I lookin’?” He wheezed. He coughed without opening his mouth until he could get his arm to obey him and cover the lower portion of his face. He inhaled his food like a human vacuum but at least he covered his mouth when he coughed. 
“Fair point.” You took his hand again and held it between yours. He didn’t pull away. 
“Just need a night an’ I can get back out there.”
You instinctively began to heat up in anger. How could he even think he was fit to be out of bed, much less hunt or take watch? How many times were you going to need to remind him that he needed to care for himself as well? After the initial desire to throttle him had passed, you leaned forward to rest your elbows on the mattress. “We’ve been over this. You can’t run yourself into the ground to take care of me, Thumper, or anyone else. You've done that. You’re really sick, Daryl. And I’m scared.”
“Ain’t gotta be scared.” His fingers wiggled weakly, slowly between your hands. You moved one away so he could squeeze the other. “Ain’t gonna be in this bed long.”
“You’ll be in this bed until Hershel says you can leave it.” You replied sternly. Despite the tears in your eyes, you firmly held his tired gaze. 
He challenged you, indignation carved into every line of weariness. When you didn’t waver, he backed down, much to your relief. “Fine.” He coughed again, coming up off the pillow from the force of it. You released his hand and stood over him, grabbing the old pillow from the other side of the bed. Luckily the dust had been beaten from the fabrics before you were in that room. You slid an arm behind his neck to help him sit up a little, placing the pillow behind him. “Could’a done it myself. Ain’t a invalid.”
“I know you can do things yourself. You’re just not seeming to comprehend that you aren't alone anymore. That someone cares for you.” Loves you. You were still standing and took notice of the bowl of water on the table with a piece of fabric hanging over the edge. Very likely Maggie was trying to bring down the fever. Licking your lips, you dipped the damp material into the cool water and wrung out the excess. With the slightest hesitation, you sat down close to his hand and began to dab the feverish skin of his face. Daryl probably didn’t even realize he sighed when his eyes fluttered closed. “Just let me take care of you for once.”
Fever-bright blue reappeared to study you. He didn’t seem upset but the hunter was known for his sudden shifts in temperament. You simply continued what you were doing, moving on to his neck. He coughed weakly, bringing his arm toward his face while you moved yours to make room. The spell was brisk, your limbs trading again but you felt his fingers brush your swollen belly. 
After another moment, Daryl grunted with a look of absolute feigned irritation. Though you knew you had won this round, you kept your expression neutral and leaned close to press a kiss to his forehead. 
“Thank you.”
His eyes were closed but you didn’t miss the twitch at one corner of his lips. His only reply was another grunt. 
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The night was nearly unbearable. You had moved to the other side of the bed and sat cross-legged at his side. His breathing was labored and loud, the coughs frequent and painful. The more he rested, the less lucid he became during moments of wakefulness. His skin burned hotter as the fever climbed, your attempts to lower it all for naught. 
Maggie and company were set to leave at first light but it wasn’t soon enough. Pleas fell from your lips each time Hershel came to check on each of you. He urged you to try and rest, even offering to bring Carol, Lori, or Beth to sit with the archer while you got some sleep. Your refusal was instantaneous. Eventually, he brought Beth with him and reasoned she could stay to watch over Daryl while you rested beside him, promising to wake you with any changes, good or bad. 
You were exhausted, that you couldn’t deny. The baby rolled and kicked, honing in on your anxiousness, Hershel said. It was with a yawn that you reluctantly agreed. The Tylenol had finally been located, and you insisted on helping get Daryl to take it before lying down. He was resistant for only a moment before complying, simply because you started to cry. Hormones and exhaustion were not a great combination. 
“You’ll wake me for anything?” You were propped on your elbows, preparing to curl up next to the furnace that was your boyfriend? Partner? Significant other? Whatever. You’d figure that part when he was better. 
“Anything at all. I promise.” Beth smiled reassuringly and patted your ankle. 
You had been made aware that anything not in use had been packed and was ready in case there was a need to flee. That would leave ample time for Daryl to be moved safely. The team of Maggie, Glenn, and T-Dog would go in search of what was needed, likely to be gone the entire day to venture further out. The local homes and businesses had already been looted. In essence, there was nothing more to be done except keep the archer comfortable and more importantly, alive. 
“Okay.” You conceded, rolling onto your side to face Daryl as he coughed, a spasm of pain on his face before he settled again. “I’m right here.” You wrapped your fingers around his and held on loosely, closing your eyes to sink quickly into sleep. 
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You heard the coughs before registering that your name was being called—no. It was being shouted. You shot straight up, hands immediately fumbling for Daryl. He was upright as well, leaning over his lap and arms braced against his chest to hold the blanket in place, cognizant enough during even such a paroxysm of hacking to hide his marred chest. With both the candle, nearly spent after what most of been a few hours rest for you, and the moonlight reflecting off the snow outside, you could see the redness on his skin, veins and tendons bulging from the force. 
“It’s okay. Daryl, it’s—where’s Hershel?” Your eyes remained on him, hand rubbing circles over his upper back. “Beth?” You looked at her then, found her staring at Daryl with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Fear? Hopelessness? The girl flinched at the sound of her name, only then seeming to hear your question. 
“He went to check if we have any tea bags.” She had lost so many, so much already. So young, still a child in that world. She was frozen, her eyes beginning to shine with moisture. 
Daryl’s fit was calming, each wet, wheezing gasp making the vice around your heart clench tighter. “Beth. Beth, look at me.” You were scared. No, you were terrified of losing Daryl. When the girl swallowed hard and finally turned her head to face you, you smiled with as much reassurance as you could scrape up around the dread stealing your own breath. Whatever you had, you would offer to Daryl. And to her. “He’ll be okay. Your dad’s gonna make sure of it.” You almost failed to hide the quiver in your voice. “Can you go see if we have any more clean scraps of cloth? I’d rather not have him spitting what he coughs up onto the floor.”
Beth nodded and spared one more lingering glance at Daryl, then she left the room. 
“Nice.” Daryl said with a desperate inhale. “Almost—believed ya myself.” He was still sitting up with his shoulders slumped, nearly folded onto his lap. You were still tenderly rubbing circles over his back. 
“You will be okay.” You whispered, laying your forehead against his shoulder blade, smiling when he didn’t react to your skin pressing against a particularly deep scar. Each breath vibrated where you rested. “Here.” You sniffed and pulled away one of the pillows. “Lay on your stomach. It opens up your lungs.”
The hunter looked over his shoulder tiredly as if considering whether or not it was worth the effort. There was a small jerk of his chin that you perceived as a nod, and then he was turning languidly to stretch out on his stomach. He coughed and buried his face in the pillow. You hadn’t noticed he was shivering before then. The blanket was twisted around his legs, making it more difficult to pull it up to the middle of his back. 
“S’miserable.” The words were muffled but decipherable. 
“I know.” You were getting to your feet, pressing your hands into the small of your back to soothe the ache there. The baby moved in what felt like a roll. “Thumper’s doing gymnastics.” Daryl turned his head toward the chair on his side of the bed just as you sat down and dipped the cloth into the bowl of cool water, his arm immediately outstretched so that the back of his hand rested on top of your bump. “Let’s see if we can help the Tylenol with that fever.”
When the cool fabric touched the back of his neck, Daryl flinched. With his body fighting to regulate his temperature, it must have been quite the shock. You left it there for a moment before moving to dab the side of his face. Swiping the cloth over his back, you realized he once again was allowing you to see his scars, this time without the tension of rigid muscles that accompanied his shame and self-loathing. Maybe he just felt too horrible to care. 
By the time Hershel lightly tapped on the door, Daryl was sleeping. The coughs were still present but with longer reprieves, the hunter so exhausted that the fits barely roused him. 
“We found some tea. I regret not mentioning to Maggie that honey could be beneficial.” One plastic cup in one hand was steaming, a torn piece of flannel wrapped around it to ensure he didn’t burn himself. The other hand held a refilled bottle of water, likely from boiling some of the snow. 
Your mind drifted to how different this winter was so different from the ones before the turn. Georgia wasn’t usually a state to receive that amount of snow and such low temperatures. Maybe the lack of human activity had altered the weather patterns. Less cars, less pollution, less deforestation. You weren’t an expert but there had to be something different. If he was real, maybe god just saw fit to throw a few more curveballs at your little group. As if the threat of being eaten alive by the dead wasn’t enough. 
Shaking your head clear, you brushed your fingertips across Daryl’s forehead. “They left?” Hershel nodded. The sun hadn’t even begun to rise yet. 
“Rick seemed to think this was urgent enough to send them out before dawn. I can’t say I’m thrilled to see my daughter driving away into the night but I am inclined to agree with his judgment.”
Daryl could die. It was urgent but for more than any practical reason Rick could suggest. It was so much deeper than that. “He’s asleep. Should I wake him up to drink it?” You placed the fabric back in the water.
“As much as I’d like him to rest, he also needs to avoid dehydration.” He raised the cup slightly. “Peppermint tea is caffeine free but we had nothing to sweeten it. We can only hope he’s thirsty enough to not care. If he’d prefer, I also brought some water.”
Sighing, you nodded and leaned forward to be in Daryl’s line of sight once he awakened. “Daryl. Wake up.” You pulled the blanket up to cover his back. Hershel had seen the scars more than once, you knew that, but you were almost certain Daryl would have appreciated the effort. 
With a groan of protest, he opened his eyes to slits. “What?”
“Hershel brought you some tea.”
“Ain’t thirsty.” He closed his eyes. 
“Bullshit.” You challenged flatly. “Come on, sit up.”
His eyes opened a little wider then, sheer stubbornness driving him to glare at you. “M’comfortable.”
“Tough titty.” 
His expression smoothed out, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Nah, s’real soft.” The hand that laid on your stomach drifted up, the back of his knuckles pressing lightly across the swell of your left breast. 
Hershel cleared his throat. Daryl’s hand moved away at a speed you didn’t think he was capable of in his current state. You snorted when the fevered flush coloring his cheeks deepened with embarrassment. 
Reaching a hand toward the veterinarian, you waited for him to cross the room and pass off the cups.
“Try to drink as much as you can, son.” 
Daryl hummed, likely feeling too awkward to trust his voice. You smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Hershel.”
“No thanks necessary. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to check in, but call down if you need anything sooner.”
“Okay.” The door clicked shut while you sat the cup of water down by the bowl and cloth. 
“Why didn’cha—tell me the old man—was in here?” Daryl croaked, making a face so close to a pout that you found it adorable. 
You chuckled. “I didn’t think you were gonna feel me up from your sick bed, sir.” He grumbled something incomprehensible but you honestly weren’t paying attention. If he wasn’t willing to sit up, you could have him raise his head just enough for you to help. “If you won’t sit up for me, could you at least lift your head and let me help you drink?”
“Y’ain’t gonna—stop houndin’—me ‘til I do, are ya?” He turned his face into the pillow and coughed, staying there until he was sure it was over. 
“Nope. You might as well just do what I ask.” You were smiling sweetly and batting your eyes when he finally moved his face back to you. 
“All women nag—this much—or s’mine just special?” Along with the relentless wiggles of your unborn baby, butterflies stirred and fluttered. Even if it was difficult to look past the fact that he struggled to draw in enough air when speaking, you felt your skin—as well as your heart—warm. 
His. 
“You’re just lucky.” You nearly sing-songed, choosing not to question his verbiage. You knew you were his. He’d been rather clear about that, even if he hadn’t exactly used words to convey it. That was enough for you. Hearing it was just a bonus. 
Daryl dragged his limbs and began to push up onto his forearms, but he abandoned the movement before his chest even lifted from the mattress. When he sighed, it was likely from resignation. He lifted and angled his head for you to adequately position the cup and pour a small amount of tea into his mouth. 
“Needs sugar.” He commented a moment or two after swallowing. Shaking your head, you offered it again.
It took a substantial amount of time to finish the tea and a few sips of water. The sun’s appearance found you sitting on the edge of the mattress, running your fingers through Daryl’s hair. He had fallen asleep before finishing the tea, waking only just enough to cooperate with your efforts. Hershel had been in once, declaring that while the archer hadn’t improved, he hadn’t worsened either. 
When he began to cough, you moved your hand from his hair to his back, rubbing soft circles in an attempt to provide any measure of comfort. Once he had settled, you used one of the flannel pieces Beth had retrieved to clean his mouth and the pillow. Hershel seemed pleased that the cough was productive. It was a disgusting reassurance but you’d take anything.
Daryl groaned and shivered, the fever relatively untouched by the Tylenol. The veterinarian had cautioned you that without the aid of antibiotics and soon, it was likely Daryl’s condition would deteriorate. Your hand stilled on this spine, the rattling of his lungs vibrating beneath your palm. Nearly overcome with an intense notion of foreboding, you turned your face toward the window, almost as if to summon back the team by sheer force of will alone. 
“Please hurry.”
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southerngothicchic · 22 days
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Do You Think I'm a Nasty Girl
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Hi! So this is my attempt at getting back into the groove of writing again, and what better way than with a lovers to enemies to lovers again fic?
On a summer night in '84, while your parents are away, you decide to test out their new hot tub and wind up getting an unexpected visit from your annoyingly hot neighbor.
After setting up your radio with your favorite mix tape, you slip out of a dainty, pink kimono, revealing a low-cut black bathing suit. It's cut high, on the sides, showing off more skin than you would ever dare to at the local pool. It was your latest scandalous mall purchase, and you knew your parents would freak if they saw you wearing it. Luckily, you had the house and hot tub to yourself for the weekend and could wear or do whatever you wanted.
You press play, on the tape deck, before easing into the warm water. You wince a little, and check the temperature gage, on the side, worrying you had it set too high. It was previously set at 104 degrees and you immediately lower it to 100. You then sit on the edge of the tub, waiting for the water to cool slightly. Turning your head, your eyes scan the empty backyard as an odd feeling comes over you, making you wonder if you're truly alone.
Shaking your head, you tell yourself to stop being so paranoid before lowering yourself into the water.
The whirring of the jets almost drowns out your music, so you scramble over to the side and lean over to adjust the volume.
Laura Branigan's Self Control fills the night air as you settle back into your spot, nestling your head against the plush headrest behind you. A sigh of relaxation then leaves your lips as you close your eyes, enjoying the warmth of the swirling water.
You drift into a sort of meditative state, as all the sounds around you fade into a low hum. You're so completely absorbed in your own world that you're oblivious to the sound of someone entering your backyard.
The usually distinct creaking of the wooden gate doesn't reach your ears, as it's slowly opened then quickly shut.
Careful footfalls on the manicured grass also go unnoticed as the visitor walks up to the back patio. They stand, in front of you, smirk on their lips as they admire the serene state you're in. They debate whether or not they should disturb you but ultimately decide to make their presence known.
"And here I thought you were having a party and didn't invite me..." they say, causing your eyes to instantly open.
"What the fuck, Harrington?" You ask, with a glare, trying to keep your composure, as your heart feels like it's going to pound right out of your chest. "How'd you get back here?"
"The gate was unlocked," he casually replies, gesturing to it with his thumb. "And like I said, I thought there was a party, given the music and all."
Rolling your eyes, you sit up slightly and lean over to turn down the music.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but it's just me," you remark, glancing up at him.
"Who said I was disappointed?" He smiles, his eyes meeting yours before traveling lower to your partially obscured cleavage.
"This song's a bit scandalous for you, don't you think?" He then asks, with one hand resting on his hip, while the other points to your radio.
You haven't been paying attention to the song that's playing, and when you realize it's Nasty Girl by Vanity 6, you sigh dramatically.
"Are you, of all people, offended by it?" You challenge, getting up to move closer to him.
He scoffs. "Of course not, but I didn't think you listened to stuff like this."
"Why? Because it's too risqué? Too obscene?"
You lean over the edge of the tub while he opens his mouth ready to respond. The sight of your glistening body causes him to freeze up.
"Kinda, yeah..." he mumbles, while you lean back into the water.
"I guess there's a lot you still don't know about me," you say with a smile.
He licks his lips before taking a step closer. "Why don't we fix that? Can I join you, or is this just a party for one?"
Deciding to up the brattiness, you roll your eyes and sigh.
"I guess you can, as long as you keep your opinions on my taste in music to yourself."
A grin spreads across his lips. "I can do that."
He then kicks off his Nikes before pulling his white t-shirt over his head. You watch a little too intently as he peels off his tight Levi's, leaving a pair of tiny green shorts underneath.
He sits on the edge of the tub before swinging his legs around and lowering himself into the water.
"Ooh, this is nice," he breathes, as he sits across from you. "I wish my parents would get one of these."
"You should tell Daddy you want one. I know the girls would love it," you snark as he shakes his head.
"Is that all you think of me?" He asks, defeatedly.
"You've never given me the opportunity to have a different perception of you," you explain, averting your eyes from his.
He sighs. "I know, but I'm not that guy anymore. At least, I'm trying not to be."
"And you expect me to just take that at face value?" You counter, unable to keep the hostility out of your voice.
"I guess not..." he begins, as he shifts in his seat.
Your eyes widen as he moves to sit next to you. He's suddenly so close, with his thigh pressing against yours as he reaches up to cup your cheek.
His gaze cuts through the steamy air as he leans in, so close the tip of his nose grazes yours as he finally continues, "I'll have to prove it to you, then."
You're struggling to speak, let alone breathe, as it's all too much. His thumb gently caresses your skin as he waits for some sarcastic retort that never comes.
Your mind's then flooded with memories of the first time he held you like this, the first time you felt his breath on your skin, of so many firsts, its overwhelming.
You manage to whisper his name, causing him to whisper yours in return.
"You can pretend to hate me all you want, but I know you missed this," he breathes, as he ghosts his lips over yours.
You resist the urge to lift your arms out of the water and wrap them around him.
"You're already off to a rough start, Harrington," you reply, relishing in his annoyance at your continued use of his last name.
"But am I wrong? Don't you miss me at least a little bit?" He asks, brushing his lips against yours, teasingly.
You sigh as you feel yourself weakening for him all over again. You wish more than anything that you could hate him, but no matter how much you want to, you just... can't. It's what lured you into his bed, his backseat, anywhere he could get his hands on you.
He made you feel so pretty and wanted and possibly loved... until someone else caught his eye. He'd then treat you as an afterthought, especially at school, practically staring you down as you walked by, with his arm around another girl.
That's the closest you got to hating him, and for the rest of the school year, you believed you did. You tried everything you could to make yourself forget the smug allure of Steve Harrington.
And it worked, until tonight.
Your hand grips the slippery bench underneath you, as he nuzzles his nose against yours, content with teasing you all night, if he has to, just to finally hear what he wants.
"Yes," you quietly reply, your voice barely audible over the sound of water swirling around your bodies. "I missed you."
He pulls away, only to look into your eyes, and smiles.
"I missed you, too, honey."
You immediately bristle at his pet name, as all your hurt feelings come rushing back.
"Don't..." you warn, raising your hand and pressing it against his chest, stopping him as he goes to lean in again. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."
"I do, though," he quickly defends, placing his hand over yours. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you and how I'm so stupid to have lost what we had."
"Really?" You ask, allowing yourself to gaze into his eyes.
"Yeah," he nods. "You're the last person I ever wanted to hurt and I'm sorry for being such a dumbass."
His apology makes you crack a smile and he thinks you've never looked prettier.
"It was always you," he breathily continues as you cradle his face. "I'm just sorry it took me so long to realize it."
"I just... don't want you to ever hate me..." he quietly admits, as you slowly pull him towards you.
"I could never hate you," you softly reassure, right before your lips touch.
"Promise?" He whispers, almost muffled, against your lips.
"I promise."
You each then melt into an overdue kiss. His perfect nose presses against your cheek while your fingers curl in the ends of his damp hair.
"Fuck, honey, I've missed you so much," he breathes, between kisses.
You sigh his name, needing to feel more of him. You break the kiss, leaving him dazed and panting, while you carefully maneuver yourself onto his lap. Your knees press against the hard plastic of the bench underneath him, but you don't mind how it feels when Steve's hands are immediately on your hips, helping to guide your movements.
You lean in to kiss him again, and he's already moaning into your mouth with every grind of your hips. You smile, against his cheek, as you press kisses across it, kissing your way to his jawline.
You feel his wet fingertips glide up your back before his nails dig into your skin when he feels you lightly nibble on his neck.
"Did you miss this too, Stevie?" You coo, glancing up at him.
He nods before his eyes roll back from another grind of your hips.
"No one else ever really took the time to find out what you liked, did they? So many selfish lovers... though I thought that's what you wanted?" You ask, your voice sickeningly sweet.
He groans when he feels your lips at his ear.
"Someone as selfish as you," you whisper, before softly biting his earlobe.
You feel him shudder underneath you, so painfully hard and desperate for either some friction or release.
"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" He then shakily asks, as you pull away to look into his eyes.
You shift slightly, freeing up both hands so you can place them on each side of his pretty face. You lean in again, lips just close enough to tease when you reply, "Nope."
"I'm sorry, honey, alright? I'll apologize all night if I have to..." he rasps, sounding as if he's on the verge of tears.
"I just might make you," you smile, enjoying your newfound power over Steve Harrington.
"Let me make it up to you," he pleads, lowering his hands back down to your hips. "I'll spend the night with you... the whole weekend if that's what it takes for you to forgive me."
"You really care about me that much?" You ask, combing your fingers through his hair.
He nods. "Let's go inside and I'll show you just how much."
You're both then scrambling into your house. Little droplets of water fall from your bodies as you hurry up the stairs. The towels around your shoulders doing little to prevent water from dripping everywhere.
The house is also quite chilly, as you had the A/C cranked up all day, so you're shivering as you enter your bedroom. You stand next to your bed, clutching your towel around you, while Steve stands in front of you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you to him.
"Oh no, honey, are you cold?" He asks, cupping your cheek, with his other hand.
You nod, timidly, your earlier attitude seemingly nonexistent.
"I'll have to warm you up then," he replies, before pressing his lips to yours.
He pushes your towel from your shoulders, and it joins his on the floor. You whimper into the kiss when you feel his large palm flat against your back before his hand ventures lower. He gives your ass a good squeeze, earning another whimper from you.
You then feel him grinning as his hands continue to roam your body.
"You're so fuckin' sexy in this, it's driving me crazy," he breathes, after temporarily breaking the kiss. "I kinda want you to leave it on while I fuck you..."
You sigh his name before pulling him into another kiss. It's messy and desperate as you lay back on your bed, with him on top of you.
He nestles himself perfectly between your legs, and now it's his turn to tease you. He grinds himself against you, the thin material you're both wearing making it more tortuous until you feel him move the crotch of your bathing suit to the side.
You're already squirming under him as you raise your hips, chasing the movement of his fingers.
He's smiling again, unable to hide how smug he feels as he just glides his fingers over you.
"Not so tough now, are you?" He purrs, against your cheek, while your hands are already twisting in his hair.
You try to speak, but he stops you.
"Its okay. I deserved it, and like I said, I'm gonna spend all night making it up to you."
He presses a couple wet kisses to your cheek, before slipping two of his long fingers inside you. You're already moaning at the stretch and the way he's suckling on your neck.
"Shit, honey, you're tighter than I remember..." he pants, sounding as ragged as you feel. "Guess no one else fucked you like I did, huh?"
You shake your head. "N-No, just you, Steve..." Your voice trails off into a series of moans as he adds another finger.
"Didn't think so," he says, glancing up at you.
"Look at me, honey," he softly commands, and once you open your eyes you see how he's gazing at you with complete adoration.
"So fuckin' pretty," he breathes, before crashing his lips to yours.
Your nails claw at his biceps as he mouths at your jaw. He buries his face in your neck, then flicks his tongue over a newly formed hickie. He plans to leave several more all over your body, wanting to cover you in little reminders that you're his girl again, and always will be.
You moan his name, your hand gripping his wrist when you feel the familiar waves of pleasure building.
"This is all for you, honey, remember?" He reminds, breathless. "I have to earn your forgiveness, even if it takes all night..."
You throw your head back, against your pretty, pink pillow as the most intense orgasm you've ever had washes over you.
Steve's lips are at your ear, talking you through it, praising you for how good you are for him.
His words have you biting your lip and squirming all over again. You gaze at him dreamily as he places his fingers between his lips. A soft moan escapes him as he tastes you.
"Just as sweet as I remember," he grins, before you grab his smug face and pull him in for a kiss.
You're moaning for him all over again when you taste yourself on his tongue.
"So, how am I doing so far? Want me to still spend the night?" He quietly asks, still breathless.
"What do you think, Harrington?" You snarkily reply, running your fingers through his tousled hair, before pulling slightly.
With a groan, he kisses you again, knowing you're both in for a long night.
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saintslewis · 9 months
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𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒
— pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!oc
— trope: fake/arranged marriage
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— summary: the Browns and the Hamiltons have been neighbours for many years, Nadia and their oldest son, Lewis, not being as close as the families had hoped they would be. Years later, everyone drifts apart into different neighbourhoods, some others becoming one of the best drivers to ever grace the sport of Formula One however being a man of his stature, fame came along with it and so did the scandals.
can a fake marriage to a complete stranger help keep his image alive? let’s find out!
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✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ———————— let’s meet the lovely couple!
👩🏽‍🏫 —— nadia brown!
“the coolest teacher ever”
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⸰ֺ⭑ - a south african native who moved to stevenage with her mom when she was 8 and gosh, her character development is one for the books. from being the shy one for all of her school years, university changed everything and made her the social butterfly that you will all grow to love soon. fav colour is pink. fav artist is beyoncé. she teaches history and knows jack shit about f1 except that the cool guy that her parents support used to be their neighbour. absolutely loves the moon and is a part time stylist. will fight for you even she met you a second ago.
🏎️ —— lewis hamilton!
“the goat.”
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⸰ֺ⭑ - a literal superstar. the stevenage driver who i would describe as the coolest person ever and many would agree. an adrenaline junky with a heart of gold and filled with positivity (and sass but you didn’t hear it from me). thee fashionista and he knows he’s fine, he just does. father to roscoe. fav colour is purple. loves discussing space and its beauty. did i mention he’s the coolest guy ever? super supportive of everyone around him and he’s knighted. ladies and gents, mr mercedes!
✧༚ ˎˊ˗ info abt renaissance!
˖ ࣪⭑ - warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, a bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, a talk of ad21, south african slang, slight hints of smut (18+ MDNI), not much of a slow burn lol, lots and lots of brand names, slight themes of sugar daddy! lewis at some point lol (think of it as him spoiling her!)
˖ ࣪⭑ - inspo: this idea just spawned into my head as well as a few of my wip’s mushed together to make this masterpiece. i absolutely love beyonce so using RENAISSANCE for a project so special to me just make wanna do a couple cartwheels. i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did making this!
˖ ࣪⭑ - saint’s team radio: omg hi everybody 🤭. first oc on tumblr woohoo! not a lot of the song lyrics will relate to the plot of the chapter but more so the beat of the song or the vibe? hope that makes sense lol. i hope you guys like the humour i’m gonna add in here. there isn’t a schedule for this yet but hopefully i’ll be more organised in the future. let’s get this party started!
˖ ࣪⭑ - taglist: @thisismeracing @goldsainz @folkloresthings @flowerchild-96 @userlando (i read your blogs as if it’s my morning paper so i hope you like this 😭) @non-stop-imagines @royallyprincesslilly . let me know if you wanna be tagged in this or future fics!
˖ ࣪⭑ - dividers by @cafekitsune 🫶🏽
˖ ࣪⭑ - pictures from pinterest and twitter
˖ ࣪⭑ - nadia faceclaim: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!
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𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 !
1. I’M THAT GIRL
- the first meeting.
2. COZY
- imagine having dinner with your family then they announce that you’re getting married? you better get cozy for this one!
3. ALIEN SUPERSTAR
- first “date”. gotta show the world the newest married couple!
4. CUFF IT
- didn’t Lewis say he was a professional dancer? well now he is 🕺🏽
5. ENERGY
- first day in the paddock, let’s gaurrr
6. BREAK MY SOUL
- ooohhhhh, the school’s calling for a meeting with Nadia 😟
7. CHURCH GIRL
- party time activated ‼️
8. PLASTIC OFF THE SOFA
- a rainy afternoon in the kitchen with the both of them dancing? literally screaming!
9. VIRGO’S GROOVE
- catching feelings there?
10. MOVE
- a visit to Nadia’s work place isn’t so bad, right? …right?
11. HEATED
- time to let the world know who exactly Nadia is and why to not mess with her or her husband. period.
12. THIQUE
- party time pt 2?
13. ALL UP IN YOUR MIND
- paris fashion week? uh yes!
14. AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM
- quick lil trip to new york or la or san francisco? who knows? 🤭
15. PURE/HONEY
- three words. eight letters.
16. SUMMER RENAISSANCE
- the Hamiltons hit the Hamptons!
status: ongoing
saintslewis 🫶🏽
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urwifebabes · 2 months
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A/N: okayyy this is from the poll everyone! https://www.tumblr.com/heaartzforcupid/745456435020873728/vote-for-which-ones-next-breeding-catnap-x
“Breedings and marks.” (Modern AU)
relationship(s): catnap x bunny!
reader x Dogday
warning(s): smut, mentions of kids,
Catnap = breeding
Dogday = marks
you guys had been dating for a year and 36 days. you all were trying to get into the groove of this .. poly relationship. they didn’t love eachother but they loved you. so they made it work, all for you.
you all had been walking around the store when this wolf came up to you. you smiled softly as he began to ask for your number and casually flirt with you. The wolf didn’t even notice them both, actually. Catnap picked up on it before Dogday. but when Dogday did pick up on it, his mood was quite sour to. Catnaps tail gripped the inside of your thigh, before he grabbed your hand and took you away to the bathroom. while Dogday looked at the guy and before he could even blink, he got punched in his face by the golden dog.
Catnap had been roughly fucking into you as his tail held your legs up and you laid on the spacious counter. his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt. he groaned each time his length squeezed itself into your velvety walls. it felt like his cock was in a sauna but oh, so good - it was like heaven to him. the more his cock pumped into you, the more he thought of how you’d carry his kittens. his eyes looked into yours before he whispered “can’t wait to see you swell with my kids, Midnight..~” he whimpered, helplessly as he dumped load after load inside you.
you were walking inside the store again, thighs squeezed tightly as you swayed. Catnap was walking behind you, proudly as Dogday was pouty that you guys had, had ‘fun’ without him. you had quickly got everything you would need for dinner and went to the cash register, embarrassed of your actions. Dogday did not let you pay as he gave the cashier the money you owed. you smiled softly, he was too sweet for this world.
when you guys had made it home, you had helped take everything out of the car before rushing to your guys shared bathroom. you got undressed, showing your perky nipples and plump ass. you got in the shower and began to bathe yourself of the icky lavender scent left on you and your cunt. about 10 minutes later, Dogday bursted inside, his vanilla scent bursting in with him. you could make out him moving a bunch before you heard his collar clink to the ground.
Before long, he was climbing in the shower with you. he pinned you against the wall and slid his musky thick cock inside. you took a gasp as he thrusted himself to the hilt, his eyes shut tightly. you both panted. he controlled himself better then you though and grinned, as he seen you so overwhelmed. the sharp teeth he had looking almost devilish as he began to fuck into you ruthlessly. the loud clapping noises could be heard from downstairs or even upstairs. the white goo that connected you both was mesmerizing. white, stretchy, and glossy. the deep harsh sounds of his balls slapping against your ass was enough to have you crying out for him. his dick was just too much for your tight pussy. he couldn’t hold back anymore, he was about to cum! he looked at your pretty unmarked freckled skin and he opened his jaws, biting. you yelled loudly as he sucked the piece of flesh as his hips kept moving. you moaned in ecstasy and abit of pain. - which made it, oh, so thrilling. he came deep inside your womb before softly pulling out. when you regained your senses, you rushed him out, aggravated that you had to bath yourself again.
“have fun without me, Midnight?” you blushed as you had recalled your shenanigans with Dogday. Catnap had began to mimic your moans before you had hit him with a wooden spatula right on his dome. “oh, shut up, you stupid cat.” Catnap chuckled, rubbing his head before he sat at the dinner table across from Dogday. They both began to do their own thing. Catnap scrolling on his phone while Dogday watched people throw balls at their dogs on the tv. you smiled at your two boys as you were ready to make them dinner.
you finally had made dinner when there was a knock on the door. you looked at Catnap and Dogday who were just as confused as you. you opened the door to see the wolf from earlier. you smiled and waved before you realized his eye was bruised. you quickly asked what happened before you put two and two together and realized it was Dogday. you offered to pay for the medical bill but the white fuzzy wolf told you it was fine and that you had dropped your ring and he just wanted to give it to you.
you smiled at the sweet wolf as you watched him leave. you then looked back at Dogday and Catnap, who were looking anywhere but you. let’s just say, you gave them both a lecture of a lifetime and no pussy until the next day.
what? you just couldn’t help it when it came to your boys.
A/N; Hihi, yes I am still doing requests.. more should be out by tmr everyone ❤️
TAGS: @2faced-fairy @alyssalololol
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