#cyce

[magierablog]

fiu fiu

[timothylawrence]

Soni think 👉👈 you can do a drabble for my mom and dad aka Kenny and Sarita...... I know it not that into twdg anymore but I love them

I could never say no to them…. This was a trip down memory lane but <3 I hope you enjoy

Kenny’s entire body aches, his heavy breathing starting to pick up as he pulls himself out of his sleep. Rain gently patters on the roof of the tent, the entire frame swaying slightly in the light wind.

It’s not the worst weather their tent has endured, not by a long shot, but Kenny’s anxiety gets the better of him anyway. There was no such thing as comfort or reassurance in the apocalypse.

The man sits up slowly, rubbing his face with his palm as he blinks his bleary eyes. The only source of light in the small space is a flashlight left on, pointed at the ground to provide enough light on cloudy nights that left the group nervous regarding how dark it was.

Not the group, more like one teenager, but Kenny didn’t mind. And neither did Sarita.

His chest grows warm as his tired gaze lands on the woman still asleep beside him. Her brown hair curls around her face, her eyes still shut and her arm still over Kenny’s lap. Quiet, infrequent snores leave her frame.

She looks peaceful, comfortable. Happy. It’s all Kenny could ask for.

His eyes move to the rest of the tent, shining the dim light in the corners to ensure the stakes in the ground hadn’t lifted during the storm. It all comes back stable, a sigh of relief leaving him, his eyes growing heavier before landing on the final figure in the tent.

Ben’s on his other side, sleeping soundly. His back is against Kenny’s leg, his long frame pulled up into a tight curled up figure.

He looks at peace and it makes Kenny’s stomach do a funny flip.

“Kenny?”

His gaze instantly flips to his otherside, eyes wide and locking onto Sarita’s soft brown ones, softer than his could ever be.

“Are you alright, darling?” She asks.

“Yeah,” He answers quickly, hand instinctively reaching forward to brush her bangs behind her ears. “Just checkin’ the tent.”

She hums softly, patting his chest and pushing him back down to lay once more. “Is Ben okay?” She mumbles quietly, eyes shut again.

Kenny casts the sleeping teen another look. “Yeah, he’s out,” He assures, going as far as to fix the light blanket over his boney shoulder.

“Good,” Sarita hums, pulling her frame up against Kenny’s again, her eyes shut. “Get some sleep, my love”.

Kenny nods slowly, turning his head to place a kiss on her hairline. “Already on it,” He murmurs, eyes shut as his head falls back against their makeshift pillows. “G’night, sweetheart.”

Sarita hums another sleepy note, Kenny falling asleep to her slowing breaths

[hbunn]

ben and kenny and how they look in the twdg fic buried with our past.... 

like father like son :’)

[fall0utboi12]

[sirenballad]

and a bonus

free to use as headers/on blog pages with credit, dont interact if terf/tran.smed/d.dlg/etc

[bisexualbenpaul-old]

ben: [ exists ]

sarita: fucking superb you funky little angel. right on.

[aleksandrawpaszke]

Cwał chuja

Jaką awanturę mi dziś Grzegorz zrobił. O, Chryste! I to na korytarzu, przy wszystkich, jak kurwie jakiejś. Wyszłam z domu rano po rogala i topiony, jak codzień, a Grzegorz stoi pod drzwiami, i wali konia. Ordynarnie klepie wędlinę mi pod drzwiami. Nie wiem, czy pod mój zapach jechał czy pod kogoś innego, ale wywijał nadgarstkiem jak D’Artagnan szabelką, a zerkał tak spodełba - raz na mnie, raz na chuja, jakby chciał sprawdzić czy mu z ręki nie wypadł. Za wielkiego tego chuja Grzegorz nie ma, więc jakby mu wypadł, to by go zaraz znalazł na mosznie, więc nie ma o co robić afery. “Nie psiknij mi tylko na wycieraczkę” - rzekłam i chciałam iść dalej, a ten własnie wtedy, jak się nie wkurwił, rzucił prąć na mosznę i zaczął wywijać rękami jak wiatrak, wypominać mi, że on się stara, że próbuje, że wstał o 4 rano, żeby odgarnąć śnieg, żeby dojść pieszo osiem kilometrów na autobus do Chęcin, że ma tego dość, że nie jestem godna takich starań, że cała jego rodzina go ostrzegała, że tak będzie, że umrę samotnie, i że coś jeszcze, ale już nie słyszałam, bo wyszłam z kamienicy. Jak wróciłam, to oczywiście na wycieraczce było naspermione, w kącie nalane, a na dzwonku krew, albo kał, trudno powiedzieć, bo Grzegorz ma ścisłą dietę buraczaną.

I teraz tak smaruję tego rogala topionym, i się zastanawiam, co on ode mnie w ogóle chce, ten typ. Chodziliśmy razem do podstawówki, ale tylko pół roku, bo zaraz nie zdał do następnej klasy i matka go zabrała ze szkoły. I co? Tak 50 lat już ma? Powiecie, że nie 50, bo aż taka stara to nie jesteś, Olka, ale jak patrzę, jak mi suty uciekają pod pachy, to sobie myślę, że 50, i to z naddatkiem!

[sirenballad]

hfhfhgfg my gay is showing ! heres my entry for first/last kiss, featuring a fav pariring of mine specifically influenced by where the cover your crystal eyes fic had gone... not canon *YET PERHAPS* and for now just a little inside ship from the cyce server ;D but here we go!

@twdgrarepairsweek