#stewingingarbage

[confess-thy-sins-archived]

UNHOLY BUGGY SCREECHES. "I'M MELTING, MOTHERFUCKER. LIKE HOT CANDY CHOCOLATES LEFT IN YOUR POCKET. A STICKY MESS. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGHG."

"A mess, that thou’rt for certain. Unfortunately, I can also account for the stickiness.”

“On another note, please stop fondling my coat. There are no pockets.”

[confess-thy-sins-archived]

stewingingarbage replied to your photo:your fave is problematic : oswald of carim

“He stepped on my face.” :^} “I feel blessed.”

[[YOU ARE... ]]

[forshovelry]

stewingingarbage replied to your post:do u have any parts of urself that ur...

“LIES, LIES, PANTS COVERED IN FLIES.”

“What do you want, insufferable insect?”

[confess-thy-sins-archived]

stewingingarbage replied to your post:"I'm here to confess that you are my sin, baby."

“IS THIS THE REAL LIFE… IS THIS JUST FANTASY. CAUGHT IN A LAND SLIDE- NO ESCAPE FROM RE-AL-IT-EEEEEEEEEEEEE.”

Reveal thy vision; turn thy gaze to the heavens and witness,

I am but a meek child, undeserving of compassion; For I am easily brought, easily gone, Lightly aloft, lightly beneath,

I daresay, give little thought to the stirrings of the breeze, I do.

[confess-thy-sins-archived]

"I'm here to confess that you are my sin, baby."

I’m afraid thou art mistaken on the proper use of the term, sir Mort. I believe the word thou art seeking is fantasy.

[confess-thy-sins-archived]

{ Mort + Oswald. AU where Velka locks them in a room for an hour. Go.}

Rooms have opposite corners, at least, the cleric tells himself as he eyes the fine line traced across the floor’s lenght; of course, he knew it would take more than that to discourage the bug man’s impressively determined advances. Perhaps he would’ve done better to remember past events, and not threaten to step on the man’s face again.It was fine, though - he kind of enjoyed it anyways.

[confess-thy-sins-archived]

Where did he come from? The window. How did he get to Oswald's face? Scaling down the wall. Two hands grab onto his shoulders while others tilt his face up, a slobbering tongue split at the tip wiping across his lips and possibly even slipping in between quickly before teeth can clamp down. Sucking too harshly to be considered an even 'decent' kiss, he pulls back and laughs loudly, scattering his buggy behind up the wall out of his reach, blowing kisses with a nasty grin.

There comes a moment in a man’s life where he feels like he cannot ever feel surprise anymore - after many, many years, Oswald learned, this feeling was still but an illusion.A slobbering, gross, nauseating truth that he truly wished was only an illusion.

For the love of Gwyn, he didn’t need to know what the manfly tasted like, much less feel this wicked forked tongue at the back of his throat-