flamin hot cheetos an peach faygo

you’re such a dainty little dear, much like a deer. In such a way my little fawn I seem to be fawning over you.
Fawning or falling, while either is appropriate I find it easier to say that I’ve fallen for you.
unforgettably flirtatious and oh so supple, words like sweet selective eloquence. Indeed my heart strings were played upon by nimble fingers, dainty still, yet so sure and unshaken.
My mind akin to that of the meticulous mediations of the multiple mouse wheels.
Not too strayed from the strenuous strifes that strap my soul to simply
. . Allowing.

I cannot wholly say just which witch has wrenched this wretch away from me. But heatedly my hands harass the harbingers.
My grasp seeks you
And I constantly think of you
So this common denominator is detrimental to my dear little deer.
Oh dear.
I’m still here.


Gamzee Makara, 24, habitual smoker, juggalo, roommate to Tavros Nitram. Black hair like a snake’s soulless eyes. Currently applying grease-based paint to his battered and bruised face.

‘you’d hate for him to come in and see you like this wouldn’t you? He’d know that you were out with that Strider kid. He’d be able to smell what sick-nasty things your mouth has been doing.’

“Shut-up.” He snaps into the air, four hundred dollars worth of dentistry in sharpened fangs clashing.
He hisses abruptly when he bites down into his tongue. Howls quietly as the blood drips into the sink.
He looks at it, the dark crimson looked black in his eye.

“How disgusting.” He spits his words into the sink. More blood. Fuck.
He looks up at the mirror and stares at his reflection. The only unpainted eye glowered back through a blacked surrounding.

“G-gamzee..?” Shit, it’s Tav. When did he come in? He didn’t make a noise.. But the door didn’t even oppose when the five-foot three Taurus rushed into the bathroom. His arms wrapped around the six-foot sociopath. Little dainty fingers gripping his shirt and pulling his lower stomach into his quickly heating face.
Gamzee could feel his shirt act as a towel to the 18 year old’s tears.

“Why do you ke-ep do..ing this?” His voice was raspy and he would gasp like a skipping CD.

//I’m lazy.. TBC

Obviously you’re staring. So, so obviously.
No ones looking though. So how would they know? Who knows?
well, she does. Her long hair is rather infatuating. It flows down her back and over her curves as slick as water. The way her supple little curves draw your eyes to them, the way you trace them hungrily with your gaze and how you fail to notice that your bright teal tongue is tracing over your quickly drying lips. Damn, that’s enough to get anybody going. But you’re strong for now. You have to be, because she staring right back at you and her gaze is penetrating right through your red shades.

Suddenly your breath hitches and she grabs at her long hair, pulls it all over one shoulder. She starts walking towards you, her boots clicking against the harsh wooden surface of the old pirate’s tavern.
She knows.
You can feel her probing into you, her fingers sticking into every little wet nook of knowledge you have.
Oh. No pun intended.
But now she’s in front of you and you’re caught in her deep gaze. Your eyes drift to her bright cerulean lips; puckered, plump, and just waiting for the bite of justice.

No words exchange between the two of you but when she walks away you follow. When the doors are behind you and the alley starts to crowd around you can’t help but let your hands grope at her choice ass.
The smirk on her face is present in the laugh that trickles past her lips. Now it’s real.

When you look down next there’s blood on your chest and even more on the ground. It’s yours. And hers.
There’s a cut above your left eye and the blood is blinding you and ruining your depth perception.
You go for a left hook but miss and go right though her silky strands, a soft waft of seawater and ale fills your nose before you see the ground closing in.

But you don’t fall. You’re caught by this dark vixen. She flips you around to face her and her supple lips are upon yours, licking, bitting. A gnashing of fangs that defines all lines of the blackest romances.
Her teeth trail up your jaw and to the lobe of your ear.

she whispers something incoherent and the hard ground knocks the air out of your lungs.
Her grin is a facade for the contempt she hold for you.
And now it’s the last thing you’ll ever see.

As you tumble into perpetual darkness you can hear her honey sweet voice.

“I’ve always heard justice is 8lind.”

Behind the anime shades he was grinning. His teeth crunched through another off-brand banana chip as tentative teenage lips wrapped around his cock. His expression remained platonic and passive, earning an aggravated growl from the pale-haired cool kid currently attending to the throbber between his older brothers legs.
Ha this was too easy, and this kid was stumbling around his dick like a virgin catholic school girl. His hand slipped back into the bag of aloha trail mix and his hips pushed up without warning.
The adolescent dj choked, gagged, and turned around to dry heave.

“Fuck, Dave, try not to barf on my dick huh?”