#after my post coitus nap

[kittythegengarmonarch]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

One of my close friends (as well as mutuals) @cadaver-moss tagged me in this! Gracias mi amigo! Now it's my turn! ^^

(There are some questions that reveal a bit too much for me, so I will try my best to alter them.)

Are you named after anyone. I'd say there are 3 answers. Legal name I will change: Yes Real name I use today: Depends. It's a noun that I would describe myself, but in a different language. Also turns out, I learned about a year after I got the name, that the word comes from the name of a spirit! Persona's name: A grandmother's dog (she's a sweetheart)

When was the last time you cried. The last time I actually cried was during a meltdown. The last time I almost cried was when another close friend said he would block me if I sent him a clip of Toad's voice, and because he said that I had a shutdown (he knew what he did was wrong though, and luckily, we made up).

Do you have kids? My sona does (in reality they're my Gengar plushies), but irl, no. I don't plan to have coitus with anyone else in any way, shape or form. (Adopting or fostering kids though, I would say otherwise).

Do you use sarcasm a lot? Depends on my mood, really.

What sports do you play/have you played? Have I played? Kick ball! I made a homerun (after I slid) and ended up getting filled with energy and pride! ^^

What's the first thing you notice about other people? I honestly don't know. I have social anxiety, especially with most other teens (a reason why high school is very stressful for me) and I often prefer to be alone.

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. Easy answer. The King's Game, SCP-5254, Squid Game and SCP-001(WTDB) are perfect examples of why I prefer happy endings, as they have caused me depression and sometimes paranoia. It wasn't pretty. (There is also more media like them that have caused me depression and/or paranoia.)

Any special talents? If drawing counts, yes. Other than that, if it counts, algebra, and most other academic activities.

Where were you born? My sona: Alola Me irl, an southeastern state in the US (Currently living somewhere else, and I will not say the name of either place)

What are your hobbies? Drawing, surfing the net, watching YouTube, napping, shaking the lamb sauce (don't ask. It's a secret), listening to music, car rides (at times), word searches, and other things that are out of my mind right now.

Do you have any pets? The namesake of my sona, Kitty, and Highly [Maybe Confused]. There are some pictures I took of them recently at the bottom of the post. Check out other videos on Tumblr to check them out. Update: We got another bulldog, and his name is Uhtred.

How tall are you? What's 3^4-36+9x2+0? That's your answer. (And no, it's not a _'_ deal)

Favorite subject in school? Art. Other than art, math.

Dream job? Character designer, like James Turner and Ken Sugimori, or an illustrator, like Anne Fitzgerald. Or a storyboard artist.

Eye color? Go outside, and stare at a tree trunk. If not, stare at my dog.

Highly is the tired one(left), and Kitty is the desperate one(right). Update: The puppy below is Uhtred.

I'll tag @liamthemarowak @ghos-tea @tiny-brain @destinylightsup-2006 @leothewtf @andythepurplebird2k5 @alter-ego-cole @boongusbongus and @artsymii

(As it's most likely required. Lmao)

[nsfwrpg]

"Oh, you haven't met my unnie a lot of times right?" Chaeryong asked while laying her head on your shoulder. She's watching a movie with you at your apartment. "Uhhh... most only on TV hahaha." you replied.

"How about I invite her here to join us?" Chaeryoung turns to you, "No need to be shy. Just treat her as how you'll treat me... 😉"

Three's Company

Chaesis x Male Reader

Breeding

Continuation of Road Voyage

“I’m the mafia, ma ma ma ma mafia yeah, we do it like a mafia”

Your girlfriend’s ringtone wakes you up after the post-coitus nap you guys took.

“Chaer?” You try and wake her up with the sound of your voice near her ear, but to no avail. She always was the heavier sleeper between the both of you, often people close to you described you as the lightest sleeper in the world due to minimal amount of noise needed to wake you up.

“Chaer!” You raise your volume near her ear and start to shake her awake.

“Hmmm?” She starts to raise from your embrace and starts to rub her eyes to wake herself.

“Your phone just rang, someone probably called. Check who it is and if you wanna call them back now.” She follows your directions, fishing for her phone in the cup holder right beside her.

“Oh, it’s my sister. What does she want? Be quiet for a sec, I’m gonna call her back now.” You start to hear the dialing tone and in no time you start to hear her sister Chaeyeon on the other line.

“Oh, unnie you called? What’s up?” It was hard to hear her sister on the other line, so looks like you’re just listening to one part of the conversation.

“Oh okay, the company gave me time off too.”

“Ummm, I’m with my boyfriend right now. I’ll ask him and I’ll call you back okay. Love you sis. Bye.” You see her take the phone away from her ear and ends the call.

“So what was that about?”

“Oh, my unnie got some time off from her company as well and the schedules match so she asked me if she wanted some sibling vacation. But I’m spending time with you so...” She starts to drift off at the end of her sentence.

“Wait hold on, how many times have you met my unnie?”

“Ummm, from what I remember I only met her a few times. When you brought me over for Christmas, New Year’s, Seollal, oh and that one time you brought her to one of my tournaments and we all hung out after it was over. Ahhh that was a fun time.” You say as you start to ponder about that fond memory of that tournament.

“How about she comes and joins us? You guys never really had the time to get to know each other.”

“Yeah true, okay. It’s okay if she comes and joins us. If you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it.” You peck her on the lips and you start to get off each other.

“We’ll go pick her up then, we aren’t too far off from our neighbourhood anyways. I’ll call her back and talk to her about the plans.” She looks at you and smiles, of which you return.

“Oh and don’t worry and be nervous around her. Even though she is your future sister-in-law and you want to make a good impression don’t worry. Just treat her like you always treat me.” She gives you another smile, this time reassuring and gives you a simple and short lip kiss. After that you two both hurriedly get your clothes and make your way back where you came from.

On the way back you start to hear Chaeryeong talking again, looks like she’s informing her of the plans you guys have as you start to hear some of the same stuff she told you she planned on doing when you both got to the campground. You also hear her softly talking back into her phone from time to time and soon after you hear giggling coming from her as well. Seems like they’re just having some sister talk so you just shy your attention away from the conversation and back onto the road.

In no time you reach the apartment complex where the Lee family resides and park the camper van in the visitors parking lot near the main entrance of the apartment complex.

“I’ll wait here, just go and help Chaeyeon unnie with her stuff.”

“Okay. Where is she gonna sit?”

“I’ll join her in the back on the couch so you can drive without any distractions.” She gives you a wink. “Plus I haven’t spent some time with my unnie so we’ll be having our girl talk.”

“Alright, I’ll be back.” You lean towards Chaeryeong and she meets you halfway and you peck her on the lips. You leave the camper van and head towards the lobby of the apartment complex where you see Chaeyeon patiently waiting for your arrival. You enter into the lobby and Chaeyeon sees your figure slowly approaching her. You suddenly meet her gaze and take a few steps and then you greet her with a bow.

“Hi, noona.”

“Stop being so formal, come here.” As you rise up from the bow you see her arms wide open and you answer her actions with a hug.

“So how’s everything going right now? Anything going on for you?” You ask, you haven’t really heard a lot of news about her for a while. You see her post a lot on social media but nothing official in terms of her entertainment career.

“Sadly no, the company is still trying to figure out what to do with me. After SWF there were talks about debuting solo but nothing has been officially planned. Especially after the girl group plans blew up last year and everyone went their separate ways.”

“Well noona, just hang in there. Hopefully you can re-debut soon. I’ll be cheering for you.” You give her a reassuring smile. “Hey, if anything I’ll open up my own entertainment company so you can have reassurance that you’ll debut again.” You say somewhat seriously, and she responds with a light chuckle.

“Better start saving up now, I might want to take you up on that offer.” She starts to chuckle again.

“Is this all you’re bringing?” You point to a small carry-on luggage which you assume has her clothes and the backpack sitting on top of it.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well Chaer didn’t tell me how long we’re staying, so I just brought my emergency bag...”

“At least you had something on hand. I had to pack all of this up so quickly.”

“Well it certainly isn’t enough compared to what you packed.”

“She didn’t tell me specifically how long, she just told me to pack what I thought was enough. Better to have more than less just in case.”

“True. All right I’ll grab your stuff, just make your way into the camper van. It’s that one right there.” You point at the vehicle, though you didn’t need to since it was the only camper van in the parking lot. You take care of her belongings and you trail just behind her following her to the vehicle. She’s the first one to enter and you start to hear a commotion once she’s greeted by her sister. You then enter yourself with her belongings, and place them somewhere safe amongst the area. You hop back into the driver’s seat.

“Alright, we’re ready to go. You two, be careful back there.” You start the car and start to head back on your way to the car camping ground.

During your drive, you just hear the two sisters just talking and in their own world. You just let them be, it seems like they need to be caught up with each other. At a stoplight you put in one side of your earphones just so you can cancel their voices out and listen to something that will keep you still interested to drive. From a certain time on, you start to hear giggles from the both of them. You become curious as to what their talking about and take out your earphone, but it seems like they kept their volume down just so the two of them can only hear their conversation. You’re still somewhat tired from the events from earlier and thankfully you see a sign signalling to you that a rest stop is within a close distance. You enter into the rest stop and park into a spot. As soon as you kill the engine, the conversation between the two sisters comes to a halt.

“We arrived?” You hear one voice say. You look at your phone to see how far you are from the car camping ground.

“No we’re like 15 minutes away. Just wanted to stop by the rest stop. You guys want anything?”

“Babe can you get unnie and I 호두과자?” (호두과자 (hodu kwaja) is a Korean walnut cake normally stuffed with red bean paste, and one of my favourite Korean snacks, especially when I get them fresh from a store in the downtown part of my city. If you know where I’m from, message me and I’ll tell you about this gem.)

“Is that all you want?”

“Yeah, unnie and I will stay in the car. Just make sure you get us some.”

“Okay, I’ll be back.” You head out of the camper van and head out to the rest stop. You decide to head to the washrooms for a quick refresher and head on your way to the snack stand to grab the snacks the girls requested. You resist the urge to go to the food court and get some real food however, as the smell of tonkatsu is trying to lure you in. As you get close to the camper van though you start hearing sounds that sound familiar to you. Far too familiar in fact... sounds you heard not too long ago.

The closer you get, the louder the sound got. Boy is your curiosity shooting up to the moon now. You take that one step to the side to adjust your lower regions and you hope it isn’t the sound you hope it is once you open the door. You slowly open the door that directly opens to the living part of the camper van and not even a millisecond after opening it, you hear the same melodic moans your girlfriend was belting during your session before picking up her sister. Immediately so many thoughts rush to your head, the first one being “What the fuck is going on!” But you finally use your head and enter as quickly and as sneakily as you can to try and stop other people from hearing and to not disturb the current event that was happening.

The picture in front of you couldn’t be as perfect as your prediction. You see two naked ladies on the bed getting themselves off, moans sounding similar to each other, and their actions almost an exact mirror of each other. If this was heaven, you don’t know how you even got here. It seemed like they were both on the brink of orgasm and in no time they both reach their peak at the same time. After they escape their post-orgasm bliss, they see your figure looking at both of them, your jaw literally dropped to the ground alongside with the 호두과자 dropped the ground as well.

No words were needed to be said, as you rid yourself of your clothing and quickly join them in their session. You were wondering who to service first, and you quickly look at their facial expressions to see who looked the neediest. The older Lee sister definitely seemed deprived of action for sure. I mean you serviced the younger one within the last hour so why not go for a different taste for now? It seemed like your girlfriend read your mind as she opens her mouth.

“Babe, why not take my unnie out for a spin? I already had my fill earlier.” She gives you a smirk. Nothing needed to be said and your actions spoke all the words that were needed in the situation. You instantly head to the older Lee sister, and meet her on the edge of the bed. You take a hold of her thighs and pull her towards the edge of the bed. As she awaits your next action she then folds her legs so the heels of her feet touch her hamstrings at the foot of the bed. Immediately you begin your patented foreplay that you’ve done to your girlfriend. If it worked for her why wouldn’t it work on her sister?

You begin to kiss her quadriceps, something that both Lee sisters were famously known for. Both Lee sisters had the greatest pair of thighs you have ever seen. As you kiss those toned quads, she starts to squirm just as your girlfriend does. You’ve come to the conclusion that the Lee sisters are quite alike in bed. You kiss your way from her toned quads to her leaking slit and you start your teasing by pecking her peeked out clit. Chaeyeon shivers at the contact and you respond by continuing your teasing. You then start to peck around the outline of her pussy and she squirms even more. By then you figure you’ve had enough of the foreplay and immediately suckle on her clit. It seems like the foreplay and the teasing helped Chaeyeon get to her high quickly as it only took a few licks at her blooming clit to get her to orgasm. You lap up all of her leaking juices while she rides down her high. 

Meanwhile, your girlfriend decided to up the ante and very sneakily she moved herself and lied down on the carpet floor where your full mast shaft was right near her face. Out of nowhere, you feel immense pleasure as she takes you into your mouth while still lapping her sister’s juices. Chaeryeong’s blowjobs were always of high quality, she knew what to do to get you close to orgasm and from her actions it seems like she wants your load as quickly as possible. You find the strength to pull away from her mouth to stave off your impending orgasm. Witnessing the twitching of your shaft in front of her face, she decides to press up the ante even further and rather than try and aim her mouth to your tip, she aims for your balls and now she starts sucking your balls to release your load as a vampire does to suck blood. Now you’re in a predicament. Do you want to finish this early and give Chaeryeong what she wants or do you possibly want to release a huge load wherever Chaeyeon pleases? You decide on the latter and with as much strength as you can muster, you push Chaeryeong off your balls using your free arms.

Without even any warning you quickly get into position on top of Chaeyeon and guide your tip to the entrance of her wet and slick lower lips. You tease her and rub your tip on her splayed lips and few times and she responds with a high pitch whine. You insert your tip into her and she begins to let out faint moans and heavy breaths. You pause halfway to let her adjust to your size. The moment you look into her orbs she gives you a nod and you thrust until you filled her to the hilt. She lets out a loud moan when you bottom out in her and you begin to thrust back and forth slowly. You lean down and place your head beside her neck and now begin to up your speed. All that can be heard within the thin walls of the camper van are the sounds of skin slapping skin and Chaeyeon’s loud moans every time you bottom out in her. Chaeryeong doesn’t want to be uninvolved in the equation so she times your thrusts and she resumes the work she did earlier and sucks your full balls again. You try your best to stave off your orgasm and when Chaeryeong feels this, she releases your balls from her suction cup mouth. She then lays on top of you and puts her mouth in your ear. The conversation you both have is what puts you to the edge.

“Y’know baby, I’m not the only one who’s ovulating. Both my sister and I have the same schedules and while you were driving we had a little discussion. “

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh. I’m going to be so busy with the upcoming comeback and I don’t have enough time to even take care of a baby. But I’m okay with you breeding my unnie. I mean y’know how many people mistake us for twins? Plus she has a lot more time on her hands considering that her company has no definite plans for her. So... with my permission you can breed my unnie. Now go on, release all your pent up load for her.” As she finishes her sentence she licks your ear and then blows her hot breath on it. That was all you needed to reach your peak.

With a loud grunt you release your virile load deep into Chaeyeon’s womb. At the same time you release your load the surprising warmth Chaeyeon feels also brings her to her peak and now her orgasming pussy clenches around you trying to milk of all the load you can give. As you reach the end of your peak you knockout right beside Chaeyeon who seems deprived of energy as well. Chaeryeong joins you on your other side as all of you slowly fall into dreamland with the two Lee sisters spooning you after everything that has happened in the meantime.

A/N: Well that’s it! I hope you enjoyed this fic from me, it took me a while to finish this because I haven’t really found the writing juices to complete it until now. I know I have been roughly posting once a month but depending on how tired I am from the job I just got, be prepared to see some good time in between fics. I’ll still be interacting here on Tumblr and in the writer’s Discord and my personal Discord but writing may slow down even more depending on my real-life world. Thanks for understanding and have a good one :) Cheers 🍻

[the-kings-of-games]

Ship meme for Kizunashipping! (A bit mature with a section on sex)

General:

Rate the Ship - Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OT3 to rule - Literally my most favorite YGO ship!

How long will they last? - Since this meme asked about children, this is going to be post series. The answer to this question? They last forever because their bond never broke again.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Simultaneously and slowly, like a plant taking root deep into the dirt and taking the longest time to bloom. It may be slow and may not be seen, but it is there, always. They grew up together and decided to stay together.

How was their first kiss? - Comforting. Some boy Crow didn't care much about kissed hom, and Jack said it doesn't count if he didn't want it to count. So Crow wanted one that count. He got it from Jack first and then Yūsei, and then they kissed each other. It was cute because they were still kids then.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - They never got married; it's enough that they're stayed together. Post-series they get into an arrangement where Yūsei owns a house and Jack and Crow come back during their time off from being pro duelist. They all call it home and have seperate bedrooms for privacy, but it's always okay to ask to share the bed and whatnot. Most often, when Jack and Crow are home, they share the bed because they end up missing each other a lot.

Who is the best man/men? - Hypothetically, Brave, Kalin, and/or Leo.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Hypothetically, Akiza, Sherry, Luna, Mina, Carly, and/or Stephanie.

Who did the most planning? - Hypothetically, Jack. He understands quality and requires it at all times in his life.

Who stressed the most? - Hypothetically, Crow because he doesn't like spending money so frivolously unless it's food or gifts for other people.

How fancy was the ceremony? - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 - Something low-key because Yūsei puts his foot down.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - All of Neo Domino invites themselves to the wedding, no lie. Angelica Raines live broadcast it.

Sex:

Who is on top? - Jack takes the lead most often becuase he likes the control and being listened too; however, their dynamic is kind of complex? It's a lot of how their mood is.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Crow 70% of the time, Jack 27%, and Yūsei ~3%. Not definite numbers but Crow is the one who's not shy about being horny or asking about it!

How healthy is their sex life? - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 - They understand boundaries, and nobody gets mad if someone says no. They like having sex with each other, so someone is bound to say yes. It's just like one of the ways they just spend time together. Penetration is not necessary, just another way for them to feel good.

How kinky are they? - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 - They've done a lot of stuff together; their longest partners are each other. Jack likes slow sex and being watched as he performs; Crow likes it rougher and is a screamer; and Yūsei likes receiving and giving oral sex.

How long do they normally last? - Depends on the mood and who's calling the shots that time. If it's Crow, maybe fifteen minutes, maybe less if it's a quickie. If it's Jack, it can go on for up to an hour. If you're asking how long they can get back up though, hours.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Depends on the mood. Nobody is really keeping count, they lose track.

How rough are they in bed? 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 - In the heat of the moment, they might bite and scratch each other. Crow likes being held down while Jack likes to hold his friends down. Yūsei knows how to add just the right amount to bring it all over the edge.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 - They usually stay in the same bed for some post-coitus nap or sleep. They take of each other too, aftercare is very important to Jack. Crow gets a bit clingy, and Yūsei likes cuddling in general, though the one who leaves soon afterwards is usually him becuase he wants to get back to work.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - One (1) daughter. She was an accident, and she looks everything like Crow with the orange hair and the gray eyes. Her name is Sky Hogan!

How many children will they adopt? - Actively, none. They all, of course, donate and put a lot of effort into charity work since they're rich and successful now, and often, they go back to Martha's orphanage to help out and hang out with the kids. They have a lot of adoptive brothers and sisters.

Who gets stuck with the most diaper? - Yūsei. He's the main parent since he's not going from place to place as a Turbo duelist. He's the stable parent with the stable job and schedule.

Who is the stricter parent? - Yūsei. And he's also the embarrassing one. (He's a direct challenge with Jack on that.)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Also, Yūsei, but he can't really pull that off much when Sky becomes a teenager because he did shit when he was just a teen and she finds out about it. (All three of her parents did shit, anything she is nothing compared to what they've been through.)

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Yūsei. Actually, he and Sky make it together, usually the night before.

Who is the more loved parent? - Yūsei. He's the go-to for comfort.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Yūsei, though Sky tries really hard to make him miss it.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Jack. He'll cry at the drop of a hat for his little princess.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Crow. He used to be a cop, so he doesn't even have to pay the bail.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Crow. Basic things mostly.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - You'd think it's be Jack, but the guy's go-to meal is ramen. Okay, he's the pickiest one but only for certain things, like coffee.

Who does the grocery shopping? - When they're all available to do so, Crow.

How often do they bake desserts? - Jack likes the eccentric cooking. He does it once in a while, and they're good. You can also just ask him.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Meat, but whatever can fill their stomachs.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - No anniversaries, they've been together since they were kids and never kept track of that stuff. Jack, however, is the one to be most romantic and do the nice surprise stuff. Because he feels like it.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - No one really. They're good staying in together.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - As of now, none.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Jack. He likes a clean environment.

Who is really against chores? - Nobody gets to complain, not that they do.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Bruno can look after himself, thank you very much.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - They were all raised by the same woman, and she taught them to do their chores right.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - None, they're very open to having people come over.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - You're not allowed to lose money.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Jack.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Bruno can take care of himself, thank you very much.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Not really.

What are their goals for the relationship? - Being together.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Crow or Yūsei. Jack likes having a schedule.

Who plays the most pranks? - Crow. For shits and giggles.

[tetrakys]

Eldarya sims trial run

It started so well guys, so so well...

Immediately the game recognised Erika as the innocent hero personality and I thought wow ok, I must have done something right, also she was instantly attracted to Nevra which makes sense, Nevra is hot. But, instead of flirting with him...

Not even one minute into the game she starts flirting with Lance.

YOU GO GIRL

And two minutes later

SUCCESS!

(Nevra decided it was better to risk suicide in the sun than staying in the house while Erika and Lance were banging)

I was like... am I done already? I was pretty satisfied.

Remember I’m giving no commands, I’m letting them act completely autonomously.

I decided to let things go for a couple of sim-days... just to see what would happen... well...

I should’ve stopped here 😡

This is what happened. The moment Erika and Lance stopped banging, after a bit of flirting post-coitus, they started actually talking and realised... they hate each other. 

From this

We went to this in a matter of one day

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

she’s good and he is mean and they don’t get along

Meanwhile, there was a bigger problem. Six people and one bed.

They started all getting grumpy and super tired, Ezarel hoarded the bed for hours and no one kicked him out.

(Actually, there was even a neighbour who came and started masturbating while looking at Ezarel sleep from outside the window... reminded me of someone 🙄)

I had to add a couple of sofas, this is the only action I personally did, but it wasn’t enough, Erika was too tired and not in the mood to do anything, they were all grumpy and tired, Erika kept getting in and out of the bedroom waiting for Ezarel to wake up.

The only relaxed person was Nevra because he had slept in the afternoon, so this is what happened 😭

What the heck 😭

In all this, Nevra was very uncomfortable while being brutally dommed, because he hadn’t drank blood from anyone yet and was letting himself starve, so I waited to see what would happen, and after another day 

he helped himself with Ezarel... it really is true that Nevra prefers drinking from the Absynth guard... of all people that’s who he picked.

But why was Ezarel still in the bedroom? Well... a few hours earlier...

and right after

I realised that sims won’t share a bed unless they are intimate, so my theory is that Ezarel banged Leiftan only because he wanted to be able to sleep in the bed 😂 he was the only one always completely rested because he had two good nights of sleep in a row, everyone else was dead tired and this is how Erika ended up

She really can’t survive on her own, luckily she had already slept with Lance so he probably took pity on her on the third night

and while these two where finally resting

Told you that Valkyon was into chocking!

I was about to end it here, but I wasn’t satisfied because the game had started so well, but then Erika hadn’t managed to really sleep in 3 days so she was completely useless and the guys were left to their own devices, because they had nothing else to do they had started banging each other. So I thought to at least wait and see what Erika would do once she was fully rested.

Well, this is what happens the moment she wakes up

Let me remind you, she and Lance HATE each other at this point, while she spent 3 days where she couldn’t sleep and just talk to people, so now she was sort of in love with Leiftan (relationship status lovebirds)

The point is... while she loves one and hates the other... she still decided to bang them both?! ERIKA ONE OF US! (the things that happened in that shower........ daemon/dragon sandwich wins)

And the moment they were done, this happened

Ezarel... 😓 they survived... barely... but that’s when I decided it was over. The kitchen was now useless, the fridge and the toilet both broken, everyone was tired, if I let it go for a couple more days I’m sure they would all ended up dead.

I’d say this experiment also failed, partially, not so much because they were all horny like the Moonlight family, but because they really can’t survive if left alone. The few times they started banging it was because they were bored.

But not Erika. Erika flirted with everyone and then carefully selected her two targets. She’s Queen.

But also very stupid because she was letting herself die of lack of sleep.

What have we learned from all this?

- Leiftan is a sub with everyone, gets sad when he sees other people happy romantically and does small mean acts of evilness as a revenge (he kicked the trash bin and let all its content spill).

- Erika flirts with everyone but Leiftan is her soulmate which is both accurate and strange? Because I gave her the goodness trait and Leiftan the evil trait so they should not get along, and you can see they have some disagreements when they talk but still love each other.

- At the same time Erika is very much attracted to Lance, more than anyone else, but can’t stand talking to him for more than two minutes. They hate fuck and then fight.

- If left alone, Erika gets along with the good guys but always picks team evil.

- Valkyon spent his time exercising and napping, the one time he had sex he was incredibly rough and wild, and into choking.

- Ezarel spent most of his time reading, and was smart enough to always get the bed and be well rested. Also, he was often horny even for the neighbours.

- Nevra didn’t do much, he was almost like a secondary character absent from the game... attractive and flirty but no actions to remember.

That’s it. All in all... I’m shocked by HOW ACCURATE THAT WAS?!?!?!

Ignoring the guys banging each other a few times out of boredom...... Isn’t this exactly Eldarya?

I think that once I give each one their own bed and firm sexual preferences, this may turn out pretty good.

[ascreamingstrawberry]

Strip Me of My Walls, Please

Present : Part 1 + 2,  Next : Part 3 + 4

Summary: Logan hires a prostitute to pretend to be his boyfriend. Patton is a prostitute just trying to support his son when he falls with a very rich man needing him to pretend to be his boyfriend.

Pairings: romantic Logicality, future Prinxiety, Elle x Damien (my original characters)

Word Count: 3,093

Warnings: bruises? swearing? sexual innuendos? family shenanigans? 

Notes : This is my Ao3 fic that I’m posting here I’ll post every two chapters, but yeah! Please leave a like and a reblog! 

The door to the Sanders household opened, signaling Thomas had come back from school. As he wiped his shoes off on the mat near the door, Thomas tried not to think about the horrible bus ride he had had home. He gave himself a one over in the mirror on the wall next to him, staring back at him was a big, ugly, purple bruise right underneath his left eye. He could hear his father in the kitchen so he ran into his room as quickly as possible, shutting his bedroom door quietly but quickly behind him.

He sat down at his desk/vanity, and pulled out a small portion of his makeup supplies starting work to cover up the bruise. His father had gotten him it as a gift, for when Thomas had started doing plays, and Thomas used to like to wear it to school, not as much anymore of course.

“Kiddo! You home? I heard the door open.” His father said, at the other side of the door now. Thomas rushed, even though the bruise wasn’t completely gone, it at least looked like he was just tired.

“Yeah, I’m here, Dad.” The seven year old replied, and when his father opening the door, he was smiling. There was spaghetti sauce on his grey cardigan that was always wrapped around his shoulders.

“Dinner in about an hour, pumpkin. I’ve got to work tonight but Roman said he’ll come watch over you.” His father said, watching as Thomas looked over the couple of choices he had for eyeliner before Thomas nodded at him. His father saw something out of the corner of his eye and reached over, grabbing Thomas’s face quickly. Thomas jumped, hoping he hasn’t been found out. “You tired, hun?”

“Yeah.” Thomas looked longingly toward his bed, his father’s hand falling from his face,  a nap didn’t sound too bad right now, actually.

“Get some rest.” His father leaned over Thomas to press a kiss to his forehead before leaving and shutting the door behind him. Thomas worked for a minute longer until you could barely see the bruise before jumping starfish style on top of his bed with the dark yellow bed sheets. He sighed, cuddling up with his favorite stuffed animal, Winnie the Pooh, before closing his eyes. He remembered his dad said something about thinking good thoughts before bed helped bring good dreams, so he fell asleep thinking about his father’s hugs.

Patton knew Thomas wasn’t telling him something, and he noticed the way the light reflected off some kind of makeup underneath one of his eyes more than the other. It could be he was trying something new, of course, but something felt off. 3:35, the clock said, two hours until his shift.

He only had one job tonight, it shouldn’t be that long. He would do what he needed to do, or rather who he needed to do, and then get back home to figure out what was up with his son. Sure, his job was a little unorthodox, but it helped pay the bills all the same. Their house was small, only the essentials, and the neighborhood/school wasn’t all that great, but it was something. Patton only wished he could do better for Thomas, the bright boy that was the light of his life deserved so much more.

The timer on the counter brought Patton out of his head, and he walked over to the oven trying to wipe away the tears at his eyes with his arm. He pulled the lasagna out of the oven, setting it on the counter, before turning to look at Thomas’ bedroom door. Thomas and Patton always had an early dinner on the nights Patton had to work, and then he would order pizza or something with whoever was babysitting him that night. Thomas had gained Patton’s love for food, but Patton always loved to feed so it was never a problem.

“Thomas!” Patton knocked lightly on his son’s door but called a little loud so that Thomas could hear him. As he opened the door, Thomas rubbed his eyes, sitting up on his bed and cradling Winnie the Pooh to his chest. “Dinner’s ready kiddo.”

Dinner was like talking to one of those toys that said the same thing over and over again until you went insane and took out the battery. How was School? Fine. Your friends? Fine. How’s the homework going? Fine. The doorbell rang and Patton was clearing the plates, and the ‘Who Is It’ Thomas asked as he opened the door anyway was more words than he’d all night from him.

“Your highness, Royal Guard Roman, at your service.” The charming voice at the door replied, and Patton could almost picture Roman bowing at the door. Thomas giggled, his father’s attitude warming at the sound, and let the man inside their home. Roman plopped down on their couch, Thomas cuddling up next to him. Roman told Patton that the two normally watched movies and played pretend, but Thomas didn’t appear in any mood for the second option.

Roman clicked through Netflix as Patton came by, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before going around to pull Roman’s shoes off. He had forgotten to take them off, per usual, but Patton couldn’t blame him because he looked so darn cute running a hand through Thomas’s hair as Thomas hummed presumably a Disney song. “Who you working tonight?”

“New client. Scheduled me for like four hours.” Patton and Roman always tried to speak in cryptics about their work when Thomas around. Roman had been one of the first people Patton had met on the job, and the two quickly became best friends, and Roman had helped him a lot in the field. Patton didn’t have Roman’s body or his charm, but he was decent enough to make good money. Although Roman liked him as a friend either way, Patton was very grateful for his friend helping him out.

“Good luck walking tonight.” Roman chuckled, Patton hitting him in the back of the head as he tossed the shoes by the doorway. Patton left his bedroom door open, changing into the gold sequin underwear before throwing on a light blue three piece suit over the bastardly thing. Patton hated wearing it, his chubby stomach stuck out over it, Roman looked fantastic in it,  but since it was their uniform he had to.

“I’ll be taking the bus. See you later, kiddo.” Patton kissed Thomas’s cheek, staying put for a minute as Thomas mumbled something and wrapped his arms around Patton’s shoulders. Thomas let go after a while, and Patton kissed Roman on his hair. “Be good.”

“I will.” Thomas replied.

“I was talking to Roman.” Patton laughed, closing the door behind him.

The bus ride wasn’t that bad. Patton had nearly fallen asleep and missed his stop but thankfully a text from Roman woke him up just in time. It wasn’t anything grand, but it was something Roman always did as a little reminder of why they did this or rather who they did this for. A blurry picture of a sleeping Thomas, looking more peaceful in his sleep than he had when Patton had just seen him. He couldn’t wait to get home.

The house was huge, Patton could tell that whoever this was clearly had enough money to spend on a prostitute for weeks, let alone a couple of hours. He swallowed the lump in his throat he got on every doorstep he went to, tried to remember that this was just a job and then knocked. Next thing he knew though he was being tugged inside, man this guy must be really eager. Patton had a flash a light, he could remember hearing voices, and then it was pitch black.

Patton was in pitch black, he couldn’t see anything, he could only hear breathing. Oh god, he’d been kidnapped. They had kidnapped him, he was never going to see his son again. Thomas had no one other than Roman now, oh dear, Roman please protect him and feed him and give him Winnie-

“Sorry about that, I needed to talk to you.” The voice was calm, calculated, and incredibly attractive. The light turned on and Patton was met with quite possibly the most attractive face he had ever seen.

As his eyes adjusted to the light they traced the man’s sharp jawline, and hopped from freckle to freckle.  Patton  landed on the most striking eye color ever seen behind a pair of black Warby Parkers, they were almost grey with how calm of a blue they were. Patton could stare at them for hours, he wanted to stare at them for hours, he just, might be able to. “I’m Logan.”

“Patton.” He blushed, trying to hide his face as Logan smiled. God everything about this man was gorgeous. Patton watched something happen to the man’s face, he wasn’t sure quite what though.

“Oh dear, this isn’t going to work.” Logan’s eyebrows furrowed together worriedly and before Patton had a chance to ask what that meant, Logan kept talking. “You’re far too attractive, there’s no way she’s going to believe I landed someone like you- oh my god-”

“Hey, take a breath.” Patton put his hands on the taller man’s shoulders, watching the blush form over his dark freckles, making them stick out more. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Well, this may come as a surprise, but I have not hired you for sex. I’m sure if you would like to participate in coitus at the end of this evening, I would be more than happy to oblige, but I must ask you a favor first. You see my mother-” Logan stopped as he heard a voice come from outside, but it went away quickly and he relaxed again.

“Why don’t you just give me the simple version of what you want from me?” Patton realized his hands were still on Logan’s shoulders so he removed them and Logan made a small sound of something, he wasn’t really sure.

“Ineedyoutopretendtobemyboyfriendforaveryawkwarddinnerwithmysiblingsandmyoverprotectivemother.” Logan spoke so fast, like he was holding it for so long, and when Patton only raised an eyebrow in confusion, he took a breath before repeating himself. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for a very awkward dinner with my siblings and my overprotective mother.”

“Okay.” Patton said before he realized what he was saying. It certainly wasn’t the weirdest request he had received in this business, plus Logan was really cute. “I’ll do it.”

“Yeah?” Logan looked ecstatic, it looked well, great on him.

“And you don’t have to have sex with me as a payback or whatever.” Patton said, stepping even closer to Logan than he already was, he assumed they were in the closet or whatever. Patton’s eyes moved from those beautiful grey eyes down to the pink, full lips towards the bottom of Logan’s face. Logan was taller than him so his eyes were eye level with Logan’s lips anyway. “But I do have a question.”

“Yes?” Logan’s voice sounded breathier than before, and they were so close that Patton could feel it against the space in between his eyebrows.

“Can I kiss you?” Patton really wanted to. Any of his previous clients were not nearly as beautiful as Logan, Roman always got the good ones because of his body, hell Roman himself paled in comparison to the man in front of him.

“Please.” Logan’s voice whined, and Patton felt a burn in his veins at the sound. He’d probably used the word beautiful too many times in his head by now, but god this man was fucking beautiful.

Patton kept his eyes open, not closing them until the very moment their lips met, and god was that more amazing than Patton had ever felt in his life. Logan relaxed against Patton, the guy seemed to be pretty intense, and Patton was almost going to pull away when Logan placed his hands on either side of Patton’s hips. He moved them backwards, towards a wall, Patton thinks he was going to get slammed against a wall and utterly wrecked and honestly he wouldn’t even mind by how arousing this man was, but then Patton feels the flush of Logan’s body as the other man hits the wall with another whine. He’s letting Patton take the lead, and Patton never got to do that, especially not with someone who looked like this.

“Wait.” Patton’s hand had moved to Logan’s hair, tugging once and Patton had thought Logan enjoyed based on the open O of his mouth as he gasped but he must of been wrong.

“Sorry.” Patton replied as Logan placed his hands on Patton’s chest, willing him to move apart. Too bad, Patton really wanted to frown, I was enjoying myself.

“No, it’s just, my mother is going to be here soon and as much as I’d like you to screw me in this closet, that would be not be practical or efficient in this moment.” Logan’s voice was barely as put together as it had been before, oh Patton didn’t just want to screw this man, he wanted to keep him locked up from the rest of the world just because of what that voice was doing to him.

“Okay.” Patton smiled, running his tongue along his lips just to be playful but also to taste Logan on his lips. It was faint, but Patton loved it nonetheless.

“So, um, god you’re making this, and me, really hard.” Logan stuttered, and Patton blushed, hiding his face in the shoulder of Logan’s shirt. “So you can answer questions however she’d like, I haven’t told her anything about you so.”

Patton watched as Logan’s hands, which had previously been gesticulating along with his words, fell flat against his sides. “Would you like to know about me?”

Patton wanted to be shy, what if he didn’t care and only wanted you for this one thing and then was going to dump you to the curve, but Logan nodded so enthusiastically that he had to give in. “Well my name is Patton Sanders, I have a son named Thomas. My best friend is Roman Prince, yes like the musician. Oh! And I like the color blue.”

“A son?” Logan asked. “I also like blue, but I prefer a much darker shade, although the green of your eyes seems to be my second favorite color.”

“Thank you.” Patton blushed. “But yeah, a son! He’s seven and the most important thing in the world to me. He’s why I do, well, this. To give him a good life.”

Logan face turned soft and Patton almost thought he got too serious but then he felt a pair of arms wrap around him. “I have only known you a few minutes but I’m absolute shit with emotions so if I don’t get this out now you’ll never hear it. You’re hot, an amazing kisser, and that statement was one of the most honest things I’ve ever heard.”

“You don’t sound like someone who is bad with feelings.” Patton replied shortly. “But thank you.”

“Oh I’m garbage. You’ll see it soon enough, feel okay leaving the closet?” Logan held out his hand and pulled them outside, Patton saw the white walls of Logan’s house behind him.

“I’m coming out of the closet.” Patton paused, a smirk gracing his lips. “Again.”

“That was not funny.” Logan said, giving him one of those breathy laughs though as he shook his head. Logan guided him through his house, upstairs to the second floor, and oh goodness gracious there was a third floor. The shoe closet they had been in and the garage had been on a floor all by themselves. The sound of voices got louder as Logan brought Patton closer to the living room. Logan stopped and stood in front of Patton to block him from seeing the other people in room until he was ready. Logan’s back straightened and greeted his guests. “Hey.”

“Jesus, Lo, if we had known you were going to let him screw you senseless first, we would’ve put on a movie or something.” One of the voices snickered.

“Virgil!” A female voice, or a high pitched male one, Patton didn’t assume, said.

“So where is the macho golden stripper?” Another, different voice said.

“Guys.” Logan’s voice was stern and even Patton felt the urge to keep his mouth closed. “This is Patton.”

Logan stepped away and Patton was greeted with the sight of three people and a small child. There was a blonde man, taller than the rest who had his arms wrapped around the woman with dark red hair similar to Patton’s own color. A child, who was probably the couple’s, sat on the ground strumming a small ukulele pretty skillfully for his age, which looked to be about two years younger than Thomas. The third adult was sat on top of the back of the couch, and he looked the most different. While Logan, the man and the child were all in grey suits, this man was in a black dress shirt and black pants. The dress shirt had frill that made it look torn and the pants were quite tight to his legs.

“I wouldn’t call myself macho, though.” Patton tried to smile, but even his own words caused it to falter. It was true, he was short and kind of chubby, not enough to notice, but enough for Patton to hate it.

“Patton, this is my sister, Elle, her husband, Damien, and their son Jon.” His open hand landed on the blond child who walked up to Patton, shook his hand without saying a word, and then sat down again back to strumming his ukulele.

“Nice to meet you.” Patton giggled.

“I’m Virgil, Logan’s twin brother.” The last person said, and Patton honestly wouldn’t have known. Virgil had streaks of purple towards the front of his hair, and dark eyeshadow underneath his eyes. It starked against the pristine look of Logan’s grey three piece.

“So, second guessing agreeing?” Virgil asked and Patton shook his head.

“Nope, I’m in wonderful company. Logan’s charming and handsome, and you’re an absolute delight!” Jon, the small child, snickered at Patton’s compliment, and he almost felt he’d said something wrong but Logan reassured him. There was a light arm on the crease of his elbow, that carried the look of amazement in Logan’s eyes at the shorter man next to him. This was going to be a wonderful night.

[demialwrites]

Tummy

McCree’s aftercare drabble - Link to AO3 Page

Post-coitus with Jesse McCree is the chillest time. A shower will come later. For now, you both nap, holding hands.

It's him that wakes first. He waits for you to wake as well, secretly taking a long gander at each of his favourite parts of you. When you open your eyes and sleepily half-roll over to greet him, he tosses you a pack of wet wipes after using them on himself. If you weren't as lazy as he was, you'd cluck your tongue at him. You're lucky if one of you remembers the permanently stained and worn old towel you're supposed to be using.

You clean yourself, carefully, and toss the spent wipe somewhere on the bed. It's Jesse's bed, and he doesn't care. Speaking of, you glance at him, and his oral fixation is claiming the skin around his nail on his human fingers as he gnaws on it.

"Baby," you scold.

He gives you puppy eyes and a shrug; he can't help it.

"You want my mouth somewhere else?"

"If you want," you shrug.

"Look at this," Jesse says gushes, drawling the 'at'. He pokes at the fat around your bellybutton, "Yer softer here than a pile ah down. I could just," Jesse shifts around and lowers the side of his head towards your stomach, "Lay right here. And sleep."

He closes his eyes and his lips curl slightly upward at the corners. You brush a sweaty lock of it back from his temple. His brown hair curls into little loops when it's wet. You can't help the thoughtful hum.

"It could be smaller," you muse.

Jesse sits up, and your hand freezes where it was.

"Now, hold on."

You raise an eyebrow. Not this again.

"I love this tummy," he states, squeezing it with his human hand, "And I love you."

"I know, but-"

"But nothin'! Everyone has a tummy. You should accept what you have."

You take a breath to begrudgingly agree, but he cuts you off again.

"And I won't take no for answer."

Jesse sounds serious. The kind of serious when he's trying to get someone to put down their weapons before he puts a bullet between their eyes. He can't be reasoned with when he's like this. You concede defeat, staring at the ceiling.

"Fine."

"Heh."

You smile at Jesse's cute victory. Not like you lost anything. He lays back down to ghost kisses across your tummy.

"Hey, Honey?" You ask offhand.

"Mmmhm?"

"The angle was a bit off. Think we could try something different next time?"

"You know I like to please ya. I tend to forget things when we're in the thick of it. Can ya remind me?"

"I'll try," you promised, because if you were honest, being intimate with Jesse made you forget things, too.

[qdwriting]

26 Feb 2019

*This entry is very stream of consciousness and I can't figure out how to give it proper structure without further muddling the scattered plot points*

Today brought a 7 month dry spell to an end; I hooked up with an average looking but very kind and very horny adjunct professor. He kittenfished me, the photos were definitely him, but they evidently depicted his summer body. The difference wasn't drastic enough for me to leave. Thank heavens for versatility, I thought he was a big burly top, turns out he was a brawny power bottom. It happened again, that thing where I meet a guy to hook up and he feels compelled to tell me all his secrets. The script has become predictable but I'm still a little awed every time it happens. I have to resist the urge to respond with "I get that a lot" or "It happens to me all the time." They always say some form of "I don't know why I'm telling you all this" and/or "You're just so easy to talk to." I try to maintain a healthy level of scepticism but the evidence that a) empaths exist and b) I am one, just keeps piling up. After 4 rounds of sex he felt compelled to tell me all his fantasies and his queer history. I learned of his fondness for (and borderline fetish over) black men and how it stemmed from his childhood. Yt people are the only one's to ever pin their attraction to other races on childhood events and exposure. I know plenty of black and asain guys who exclusively date yt people and women of color who date many races outside their own and they've never told me it was because of some experience with someone of that background that they'd encountered as a child. It also seems that yt folks are more likely to have childhood stories of some sort of racial unconsciousness until some specific event brings it to their attention. I don't recall the time when I didn't know I was black or didn't recognize that other people weren't. It wasn't tied to trauma, as early as kindergarten and first grade I noticed that some of us were black or yt or Latino or Asian and it didn't come up as a problem but it was evident. He must have kept me for over an hour post-coitus just spilling his soul. Then I somehow wound up helping him figure out Uber and Walmart apps on his phone. He was incredibly appreciative and insisted on dropping me off as repayment for helping him. He also got another round out of me. Wanted me to hold him down and play a little rough. How I managed a fifth erection I don't know, I'm almost certain that orgasm had no viable fluid to it, but I'm a people pleaser, and I have a hard time saying no to nice people. When got in Ira was just sitting down for dinner. Josh and I chatted though that. We were supposed to finish the movie we started last night, but I opted for a nap while he prepared Ira for bed. Nap time was precisely when Jesse decided to contact me so I was texting him through the time that I intended to nap and then fell asleep without readjusting my alarm. I woke up just after midnight having missed Josh by an hour. I'll have to make it up to him somehow. Jesse is in the midst of a bout of depression. I'm glad that they're comfortable coming to me in such a time. They're also trying to navigate poly nonsense and I'm the go-to source on that, though I must say every relationship brings me a deeper and more thorough understanding of polyamory. Today Jesse introduced me to Sternberg's Triangular Theory of Love. One of the benefits of dating someone new to poly, particularly with the type of folks I'm into, is they get wrapped up in the research phase and while they're learning they can find information I didn't know about or literature that didn't exist when I was all about learning polyamory. I mean, monogamous and polyamorous folks alike could stand to benefit from regular relationship and emotional education but in monogamy we're taught that these things should be intuitive so many don't want to learn and in polyamory once you get in the swing of it there is so much repetitive information that you don't want to bother or worse you assume you know all there is to know. Much like working with school-age children, newly poly people keep me fresh.

Completely non sequitur, these leggings and earrings got me this donuts for free. I stopped at Dunkin Donuts to soak up the Wi-Fi but I didn't want to be loitering so I tried to buy my favorite donut, strawberry frosted, but the guy behind the counter was so enamored with my outfit that he told me not to worry about it, just take the donut and go enjoy my day.

[nerdforestgirl]

Note:  There’s another thousand words of this, but I cannot for the life of me figure out how to end it.  I might post it as a second part (which has a joke I thought was funny), or I might throw my hands up in the air and fling myself into the sun.  Not sure yet.

Amy was asleep in her bed.  She felt safe and warm, but she had to bite her tongue to not shout in fear when she woke to a six year old little girl's face just inches from her own.

“Good morning, Allison,” Amy muttered with clear exhaustion coloring her tone. She was exhausted from everything in life, but that was only a very little bit the girl's fault.

“Hi, Mama,” Ally said with more cheer than the hour called for.

“Miss Allison, where are you?  You said you were going to help me make breakfast,” Amy heard a voice shout from somewhere near the kitchen.  She sighed and started to sit up.  “Sounds like Grandma wants you,” Amy pointed out to her daughter.

“Yeah.  Grandma is going to make French toast and then she said she is going to take me and Lee to church with her.  How come we never go to church? Grandma says we aren't learning enough about Jesus,” Ally asked her mother.  Amy was glad that her mother in law only visited a few times a year.

Amy thought that it was too early for the subject of beliefs and religion.  She just made some excuse about Sheldon and left it at that.  Instead she scooped the little girl into her arms and took her into the kitchen where Lee was seated in his booster seat and babbling at Mary in the almost clear way his three and a half year old vocabulary allowed him.

“There's Miss Allison.  Good morning, Amy.  Would you like some coffee?” Mary asked.

“Yes, please,” Amy said as she got into the cabinet for a mug.  She felt like she needed about a gallon of coffee to even get started.  “I hear you are taking the kids with you to church this morning.”

“I hope that's alright.  I know that you and Sheldon don't approve of religion,” Mary started.

“It's fine,” Amy cut her off.  Again, it was too early for this discussion.  She and Sheldon were still dragged to Christmas services, but stopped going to normal Sunday services when Mary visited before the kids were even born.  Still, Amy had no problem with them going to church with Mary.  If that's how Mary wanted to spend time with her grandchildren, and the kids were okay with it, Amy wasn't going to interfere.

Amy went to help Mary prepare breakfast, but she was ordered to take a seat and enjoy her coffee.  Since Amy was both a full time neurobiologist and a full time mother, she wasn't going to refuse it when someone told her to take the morning off.  In fact, she was wondering what she might be able to get up to with Sheldon while his mother and the kids were out.

“I wanted to take them to lunch too.  Will you be okay without your car for that long?” Mary asked since she would be leaving Sheldon and Amy with only one vehicle while she borrowed the other.

“Yeah.  No problem,” Amy assured her.  If they went to lunch, that would give her even more time to do something with Sheldon.  A plan was forming in her mind.

“Great.  Or unless you and Sheldon would like to come along to bask in the word of God,” Mary offered.

“No, thank you, but please take the kids and have fun.”

“Where is she taking the kids?” Sheldon asked as he walked into the kitchen.  He put his hands on Amy's shoulders and squeezed them quickly before moving to kiss his little girl and boy good morning.  Mary watched because she still never believed he could be that affectionate.

“To church.  Then you and I are going to stay here,” Amy explained.  She hoped that he was also looking forward to having some alone time.

“Great.  I have been thinking that we could really use the time to clean the house. It needs it,” Sheldon said as he filled plates for the kids from the stuff that was just starting to come off the stove.

“Yeah,” Amy agreed with fake cheer.

The five of them ate their fill of Mary's cooking before Mary took the kids upstairs to get ready for church and Sheldon and Amy cleaned up the kitchen.

“You and I aren't cleaning anything while they are gone,” Amy whispered when she was sure that everyone else was upstairs.

“Why not?  If Mom and the kids are gone, it'll be the perfect time to do a really deep clean,” Sheldon pointed out as he handed her another plate to put into the dishwasher.

“You have your wife of nearly ten years alone for several hours, and you would rather clean a house that our two small children will mess up as soon as they get home?” Amy asked.

“As compared to what?  Do you want to play video games?  Should we be really naughty and pull out the M rated games?” Sheldon asked.

Amy rolled her eyes, but at least that was something in the realm of fun and not appropriate to do with small children around.  She was going to talk to Sheldon more about what she had in mind, but she then heard Mary and the kids coming back downstairs.

Ally was in a pink and yellow dress that her Aunt Bernadette had gotten her a few months earlier and Lee was in a tiny dress shirt and slacks that Amy didn't even recognize.  She wasn't sure if Mary had purchased the pants or if Amy had no idea what clothes her son had.

“Those pants were Shelly's when he was a boy.  I brought some of his things since Lee and Shelly are like twins.  I thought that you guys might like some of his clothes,” Mary explained when she caught Amy inspecting them.

“Oh.  I remember those.  I was chased by a dog while Junior and Missy laughed at me in those pants,” Sheldon reminisced out loud.

“Well, son, don't get chased by any dogs.  Have fun with Grandma,” Amy told her boy as she picked him up to kiss him all over his face before he left.

Amy walked back over to Sheldon after she watched the car pull out of the driveway. Instead of trying to be subtle at all, she grabbed Sheldon's butt with both of her hands and got on her toes to kiss him.  “Come on. Let's go to the bedroom and do some adult stuff,” she ordered.

“Amy.”

“We can clean or whatever after.  If we have time, but the kids will just undo any cleaning we do.  Come on.  Let's be a little irresponsible just this once,” Amy offered.

“A little coitus and then you play one video game with me,” Sheldon countered.

“Deal,” Amy said with a giggle before running up the stairs to their bedroom.

Sheldon followed her, albeit, at a slower pace.  By the time he was in his bedroom and locked the door, Amy was already stripped and on the bed.  He was trying to play it cool, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face at the sight.  It was appealing to think about not worrying about small children knocking on the door for glasses of water.

Sheldon joined Amy on the bed a moment later when he had divested himself of his own clothing.  He always suspected that they didn't share moments like this enough for Amy's liking even after they married, but he always enjoyed making love to her.

When they were finished to his satisfaction, Amy rolled over and promptly went to sleep.  Sheldon cuddled with her for a moment, but then he decided to pull out his phone to text his mother.  Church must already be over, and he thought that they needed notice if she was going to return with the kids any time soon.

We are napping. Will you text me when you are planning on returning? - S

I thought you were planning on cleaning. - M

We did some other things instead.  It seems that my wife needed some relaxation. - S

Mary had an idea of what that meant.  She decided to give her son and his wife a little more time to enjoy each other.

I think I'm going to take the kids to the park for a while after lunch.  I probably be back at around three.  If that's okay. - M

No problem. - S

Sheldon smiled and snuggled up to Amy again to join her in sleep.

[illdepths]

✿ / ❤ / ☁ / ★

@thscharmngman​

✿  +  ☁  –  five times my muse has thought about and almost texted yours and the one time they do something about it.

I. INSOMNIA

It’s late at night when he can’t sleep. The TV’s on low, the thrum of incoherent voices a modern lullaby for his restless mind. His eyes are on the screen, but he doesn’t see what’s going on. What he does notice is a guy on TV looks like Hartley. He doesn’t have Hart’s height or glasses, but the coloring is there. Moana smiles privately to himself. He picks up his cellphone on the bedside table and opens up his text messages.

to: trashy white boyjust saw you on tv

His hovers over the SEND button. This is stupid. Moana deletes it.

II. THRIFT SHOP

Weeding through some of the shirts on the rack, Moana finds something that looks a out of place with the plain dark T-shirts. He unhooks it off the rack. It’s a deep blue top that’s loose, kind of flowy, something one would relax in. The collar droops low, reminding him of those fashionable turtleneck. The sleeves are moderately short, probably stops right above the elbow. It’s a simple design, but has a mildly artistic refinery to it. He can see Hartley wearing something like this.

Moana snaps a photo of it on his phone.

to: trashy white boyit’s on sale. you want it?

On second thought, it’s better to surprise the man with the gift. If he doesn’t like it, Hartley can always return it. Moana���s not very good at shopping for other people, so he won’t be offended. He grabs the hippy shirt and a few more items before going to the checkout counter.

III. SICK

Once a year maybe Moana is under the weather, but for the most part his health is top notch. No one can say they’ve ever seen him sick, let alone cough or sniff, but Hartley gets to. He’s been lounging on his friend’s couch, bundled in a blanket, groaning pitifully. How does this even happen? Moana dresses appropriately for the weather, he washes his hands frequently throughout the day, and he feels completely fine when he crashes at Hartley’s place last night, too exhausted to go home.

Thinking over the events of their outing, he can’t think of anything that’ll give him a cold. Well, Hartley did sneeze in his face that one time, but that’s because he was chilly. Right?

to: trashy white boyi think you got me sick dickhead

If he has more energy, he might cuss Hartley out some more, but his eyes are bleary and it hurts to even have them open. Moana falls asleep before he can actually send the text. When he wakes up there’s hot soup on the table and Hartley hovering. He says something Moana doesn’t catch, but he throws the blanket over his head and furrows under it some more. This time he hears Hart chuckle. Moana wishes he has the strength to raise his hand to flip him off.

IV. HOOK-UP

This guy really doesn’t know what he’s doing. It’s such a disappointment because he’s actually kind of cute, but beauty doesn’t make up for lack of skill. Moana maybe twitches a little down there, yet so far getting it up doesn’t really seem to be happening. Moana watches with sheer disinterest as the guy on his knees is determined to get more than a wiggle from him. It’s his technique; it can use a lot of work. Not the right pressure, not the right suction, not even the right kind of teasing. Hart knows what to do.

Maybe that’s the thing. Moana’s been spoiled by Hartley’s dick-sucking skills that others pale in comparison. He bets if he tells Hart that his ego will fill all of Central Park. If it’s true, that Moana can get hard unless Hart’s the one responsible, then he’s going to be mad as hell.

        “You know what, let’s try something else.” Moana suggests impatiently, hauling the guy up, who looks slightly disappointed, but whatever.

Moana sits him down, tells him to use his hand instead. While he does that Moana plays with his ass, prepping him. It’s the sounds he makes more than the handjob that gets Moana ready. Apparently this guy is just shit at sex.

After he has the most dissatisfying orgasm of his life, Moana takes a piss, washes his hands, then re-enters the sea of thrashing bodies in the club. He looks for someone else in the crowd because that itch hasn’t gone away. Or maybe—

to: trashy white boyare you free tonight?

Wait, no. A woman just walked in who looks like she knows how to have a good time. Moana pockets his phone, then walks directly towards her. It doesn’t take long to get in the back alley and this time his experience is far better. Good to know Hartley doesn’t ruin sex for Moana.

Still, it could’ve been better.

V. AIRPORT

Delayed flights are the bane of his existence. Moana hates waiting around at terminals. There’s too many people, the Wi-Fi is shitty, the food is overpriced, it’s too loud, too bright—just too much of everything.

Scrolling through his Facebook, he sees a few updates on Hart. That profile pic is new; he looks good in it, if a little moody. Moana wonders when he’s going to ditch the beard and glasses. Does he actually need glasses or is that a fashion thing? Going through Hart’s status messages, he chuckles at some of them and gets that distinct yearning of missing somebody.

Gross, he’s getting attached. Moana considers that for a moment before he pushes it aside. He exits out of the Facebook app to go to his text messages.

to: trashy white boyyou need to shaveyou look like a poster boy for men in a mid-life crisis

Except his messages are rejected because the damn airport Wi-Fi sucks. It’s going to be a long wait.

I. BOREDOM

Hartley’s a good people to call whenever Moana has nothing to do. Generally they sit around watching Netflix, shoot the shit, or maybe go out somewhere if he feels like Hart’s been cooped up in his house for too long. A lot of the times they end up having sex. Maybe on the couch, maybe in Hart’s room, maybe against a random wall—it doesn’t really matter. He supposes he can ask for a bootycall, but Moana actually isn’t in the mood. All he wants is some company.

to: trashy white boyi’m coming over so take a shower. you probably smell.think of something for us to do. see you soon.

It hasn’t finished sending before Moana gets up to leave.

★  +  ❤  –  one time my muse thought yours looked breath-taking, but says they don’t love yours and the one time they admit it.

I. SLEEP

Seeing Hartley sleep is rare. Not because he doubts the man sleeps regularly, but because Moana doesn’t usually stick around for post-coitus cuddles or naps. He’s not sure why he does this time. It’s a little weird, he has to admit. This thing between them is suppose to be casual, but it stops being that, although he can’t pinpoint when. Moana just knows something is different now, especially because he’s never thought of Hartley as beautiful before.

Right now he does.

He looks peaceful, laying on his side, naked, only covered by a blanket at the waist. Moana can see a few freckles on his shoulders, something he’s never quite noticed before. Too busy trying to take clothes off and get instant gratification to actually appreciate the body of the person he’s with. Moana trails his fingers lightly over those patterns of brown dots, feeling the sleep-warmth of Hart’s shoulder seep into his touch. Hartley makes a drowsy noise, but doesn’t wake, just sighs softly and seems to relax more.

What makes Hartley stress out so much? His life doesn’t look complicated, but then again what does Moana know. They don’t really make a habit of talking about each other’s lives. Hartley doesn’t even know Moana’s dad is dead or that he has a daughter back on Oahu.

So is it even possible to feel something deeper with a someone he doesn’t know much about? Moana stares at Hart’s face like he’ll wake up to give him a answer, but he doesn’t. He keeps sleeping and Moana continues to watch while the sky gradually grows lighter and an alarm clock beeps to start the day.

I. HOUSEBOAT

This is a special occasion: it’s the first time he’s let anyone who isn’t family on his boat. The boat where Moana actually lives, not the apartment he’s taken Hart to many times, but his actual home. Does Hart have any idea how much of a big deal this is? Does he know that Moana is internally freaking out, despite looking like his normal calm, cool, collected self? His track Hartley as he roams the deck, taking everything in, then he follows his guest into the main cabin, the housing part of the entire structure.

It’s set up much like a normal house would be. Clearly it’s well lived in because there’s a few dishes in the sink, a couple of clothes on the backs of furniture, open DVD cases on the table in the den. But it’s clean and tidy and doesn’t look like a display for a realtor sale like his apartment does. There are personal affects on the walls and fridge, photos, letters, even amateur drawings in crayons.

Is it strange that Hartley looks like he fits in with these surroundings? Maybe that’s Moana romanticizing the moment, but he wants Hart to belong, although he doesn’t know when that becomes a wish of his. He just knows it’s not a trick of the light when he thinks Harley is stunning, standing in his kitchen in front of the fridge, hunched a little to check out the pictures the magnets hold.

Hartley carefully examines an illustration of a small girl, a woman, and man building a sandcastle on the beach. Despite the lack of fine detail and messy coloring, it’s easy to decipher the man is Moana. “Who are these other people?” Hartley asks, a question he’s been waiting for.

        “That’s my daughter, Kahiwa, and her mom, Minase.” Moana answers as casually as he can, but a timbre of nervousness enters his tone.

As expected, Hart looks surprised. “Are you married?” Moana shakes his head. “I had no idea. Why didn’t you say anything?” Moana shrugs and he can see the mild irritation in Hartley’s face. He hates that Moana doesn’t talk a lot. “This is all before you came here. You have a whole life I knew nothing about. I’ve known you for months. What else are you hiding?”

That’s a loaded question. One secret at a time. He doesn’t think Hartley is ready for the fact the guy he sleeps with murders people. Instead he blurts out something completely random.

        “You’re beautiful.”

        “I know I am, but—”

        “No, I mean it. Obviously you’re not ugly, but you’re just really… Sometimes I can’t breathe when I look at you. And lately I’ve been looking at you a lot and I didn’t use to before. I dunno what happened, but you’re on my mind a lot and I—”

        “Moana, what are you—”

        “I think I love you, Hart.”

The silence that follows is probably the scariest moment of Moana’s life.

[olaluwe]

  Nudge by doubts fears carefree attitudes,

  Instead of being led by their dream boldly,

With few exemptions,

  Many of my contemporaries and I

  were ruined and nearly ruined by letting themselves

  be drown indecisive in the sweeping showers

  of their splashy dawn,

energeticyoungsters fresh out of school clueless

  fleetfooting themselves through countywide

  streets highways &alleyways too

  looking instead for ridiculous quick fix menial

  jobs sites when they should have charted 

  a career course,

who caught napping supine on the faeces

  of unprofitable endeavours sheer drudgery

  &were flapped silly by ugly humongous flies of 

  absolute ridicule undone inevitably crashed-in,

who sleepy eyed early birds daily converge

  on Tarmacs U-turn or Fagba for hopeful pick

  by kind familiar unfamiliar operators, 

  buoyant industrialists or stayed back 

  with spin of Shovels sprouting 

  fields of concrete bricks,

and daily went home with Hell

  trapped in their bodies and famished and insatiate

  with heavy ploughman meals and thirsty for 

  cold water buckets all day,

who funnelled into the streets from Lagos to 

  Abeokuta to Ibadan to Oshogbo to Akure 

  violently protesting the voided 1993 presidential election 

  Watershed with mournful elegies, with songs daring 

  soldiers to shoot they’re a multitude, with

  borne-fires, with stone projectiles, with Molotov 

  cocktail through twisted regiments of tyres& 

  woods &irons barricades until the mob wear itself 

  out or were put down namely by whip

  of the grape shots apologies to Napoleon de 

  Bonaparte,  

who rightly thought the Feds is a scam 

  doing nothing to change their condition and

  did nothing themselves,

who repeatedly fatally faltered

  trying to walk before crawling,

 who idle talk from bed to bathroom to streets

  to peeps bunks of big money hit 

  yet despised the day of little beginning,

who went away pregnant with disobedience 

  defying the grandfather summon advisories

  caution suffering cathartic miscarriage luckily

  in the lonesome night of repentant self flagellation

  or returned prodigal with gaunt babies of 

  lamentations fed on humble pie,

who sweetened a gifted lady first time in Calabar

  who was a gifted lady from the Carpenter

  without protective socks on his foreskin

  on a scorching sunny afternoon tabooed

  in the sloppy ground yonder wooden quarters

  on matted floor with peeled painful kneecaps

  to the bargain &icing on the trauma-cake Gonorrhoea

  from the mournful sober strumpet intimated 

  who perfectly mimic the shade of a sweet homely

  girl met a striking deserted Hospital

  on Sunday& later found succour 

  at a street corner Apothecary with the lady 

  in tow leaving her still without a broken heart,

who was given a weighted round of applause

  in real life scenario at Crusher prompted by the 

  Red neck Director visiting for convincing moving 

  speech tagged Cicero the future assembly man 

  without any business whatsoever being a 

  ploughman wasting away,

who lone it through Kubwa& had the 

  longest night of his life barred from re-entering

  the estate PHS by the Gorgon faced officious guard

  accused of disrespecting hisses unfairly pleaded

  to no avail wounding up with insomnia in a wooden 

  church erect on the cliff edge feted on 

  by an army of hungry mosquitoes 

  with ruthless abandon,

who hungry out-of-pocket threw needless

  tantrums with a BLLB to hell with a project

  long delayed angrily returned to no tranquillity 

  base Lagos cramped into overloaded 1414bus on

  a night trip with a role of mat strapped under 

  his armpit for goody bag,

who rude to the stocky supervising major 

  on site& was rewarded instantaneous with 

  thunderous slaps by his aide-de-camp corporal

  with accompanying blurry starry vision,

who picked on by the grumpy aggressive 

  sergeant demoted & felled tripped with a deep cut 

  to his pelvic pursued & was given a clean suture

  &analgesic at the MRS,

who was evicted now from a different site 

  by same stocky major for combativeness irreconcilable

  disputes &picketing &symbolic poison 

  to site harmony,

and left high spirited with the older loquacious

  Edo man now lost unforgotten 

  in the maddening Lagos crowd,

who were welcome ecstatic by the old comrades

  at abattoir where LSDPC was piloting a new

  set of project,

who bereaved grieving hollow eyed 

  starting their teary sojourn from afar largely ignored,

Who idle descended on News stand from 

  from dawn to dusk &went home without any 

  significant takeaway but heated disagreeable 

  cacophonies of intellectual supremacists tribalise

  voices &dusty eyed severe figure heads 

  rowdy in turn at the forum of the street,

who were indefatigable fanatic supporters

  either queueing behind remember the Star crooner

  who sang ‘whirling hipped ladies have usurped the 

  microphone from his hand’ or the bare-chested 

  street fighter pugilist Moon crooner in a never ending 

  superiority tussle bearing on their bloody heads

  burdensome migraine of the duo 

  with soaring away success paying lip service to theirs,

who were chronic bachelors repeatedly stabbed

  in the heart by loveless ravishing angels

  roaring at dawn in their hunt 

  of still waters greener pastures,

who jumped at every chanced discussion 

  on who the best player in the world is 

  or the richest- Messi or Ronaldo,

  an over flogged debate, 

who took to crime pickpocket in crowded bus stops

  pedestrian walks on rickety Molues plying shallow

  highway routes one-chance in smaller buses Varagons

  ripping their victims off valuables 

  pushed off on motion to their bruises deaths

  crushed by the unfortunate hit and run drivers,

who metamorphosis into superhighway bank vault 

  dynamite armed robbers to protest poverty ravaging

  the land perceived injustices to their regions 

  lopsided federalism non implementation of fiscal 

  federalism hopelessly,

a mass of rueful sobbing scapegoats 

  held by the wrists in lawman Hulux trucks 

  driven through the elephant gate

  behind wailing walls of lion building remand jails 

  &were never seen again,

who were disagreeable dagger-drawn 

  in crowded football Viewing centre at Bori camp 

  and escaped through the low walls 

  into the creeks without a trace 

  leaving somebody dripping in stanch,

who anticipatory painted a live cow in blue 

  on mainland Lagos to be butchered 

  for barbecue cocktail because Chelsea 

  they instinctively violently believe will win 

  for the first time UEFA champions 

  league &they  did &hell was let loose 

  with scores dead benighted by marijuana haze 

  alcoholic binge from reckless joyride 

  honking motorcade through shallow streets 

  dark under perpetual swathe 

  of power outage,

who went through universities with morale 

  high flown struggled not for lack of intellectual 

  abilities but material comfort pull it off

  below the  class and still celebrated,

who mandatory were posted to the North east

  the hot bed of murderous insurrectionists 

  Boko haram hole up in the Sambisa forest

  picked a pocketful of pellets on the streets 

  riding on the Bicycle and still had 

  a resourceful Atipo,    

who gambled away their tuition fees 

  gathered all night in empty apartment 

  of a Canadian trained aeronautic engineer 

  deportee and so dropped out of college 

  wondering where next to go but went nowhere 

  pass self destruct crack smoking

  street urchins, 

who were bosom friends and loyal comrades

  hustling in tattered clothes hooded disguised 

  undisguised eating bread the scalp of their 

  unshaven heads unknown,

who were the secret heroes and super heroes 

   of this poem now lost permanently non-permanently

   from Denis to Sam to Roger in specs not the 

   real name- sorrow to the memory of a gallant 

   hustler lost in his sleep lording it over 

   work and academics up in the centre of unity,

let heavens calm its impatient loom for our total

  homely recall for we are all speedily tracking  towards 

  our fated sunsets bound to the threesome old 

  mileage of Time divided,

who groaned in repeated interface 

  with the visionary Celestian shepherds 

  who were visionary sexy eyed Celestian prophetesses 

  trying to unravel the mystery behind 

  their multitude of woes,

 and went through bath rituals ringed 

  by three elders screaming Jah jah jah 

  with seven candle sticks sponge scent oil eggs coconut

  to be exhausted in running water

  or Blackstone stationary

  in the churchyard mercy land,

who slept for ten years on Boxguitars 

  Boxguitars Boxguitars with total indifference 

  woke up one morning with drear sting 

  of penitential paroxysm its scandalous to sojourn 

  in a music house without some love&

  a baggage of note,

presented himself before the familiar bedfellow 

  instructor maestro seated at the piano

  among a sea of nodding heads with a deluge 

  of request imperative ambitious learner&

  was given a crash lesson in 

  jazz fantasia,

but despair his maturation is slow 

  gave up midway and took a 

  night bus to Calabar to feed on his old vomit,

who was twice rendered homeless squatting 

  with childhood friends practically wooed in 

  & still keep their contacts and no ill feelings,

who after thought tried enlisting in the great army 

  but forgotten to doctor their particulars

  to reflect the new reality,

who peeped through keyhole night after night 

  for months on the master trembling pleading 

  for more in coitus with the sweet first snatch of girlfriend 

  I think from childhood and tiptoed to the furniture 

  wishing they could swap roles,

 who in stunning dramatic fashion repeatedly lose

  their caps instead to deathly probes 

  that should have taken them to the cleaner,

who hurriedly taxied home from the peninsula

  desperately sick dismounted at a crossroad

  sidewalk befuddled crossed the highway

  into gas station Sweet sensation round table 

  with a cold bottle of orange crush,

standing on their heels glad to inform all agonizing 

  well-wishers that the condition of the labouring mountains 

  is expectedly painful but stable and promises to 

  usher in the Visionary babies new dawns,

for fireplace intended for the vulture will only 

  end up consuming other birds so unfortunate!

     Note : 

BLLB stands for acronym of a Yoruba phrase- Bose Lo, 

   Lo Sebo; meaning to come home empty handed after a period of sojourn.

Atipo is a Yoruba word which generically qualifies anybody or the act of serving

  one’s fatherland especially after university education.     

          ....  For Denis Ojadeni

[olaluwe]

  Nudge by doubts fears carefree attitudes,

  Instead of being led by their dream boldly,

With few exemptions,

  Many of my contemporaries and I

  were ruined and nearly ruined by letting themselves

  be drown indecisive in the sweeping showers

  of their splashy dawn,

energeticyoungsters fresh out of school clueless

  fleetfooting themselves through countywide

  streets highways &alleyways too

  looking instead for ridiculous quick fix menial

  jobs sites when they should have charted 

  a career course,

who caught napping supine on the faeces

  of unprofitable endeavours sheer drudgery

  &were flapped silly by ugly humongous flies of 

  absolute ridicule undone inevitably crashed-in,

who sleepy eyed early birds daily converge

  on Tarmacs U-turn or Fagba for hopeful pick

  by kind familiar unfamiliar operators, 

  buoyant industrialists or stayed back 

  with spin of Shovels sprouting 

  fields of concrete bricks,

and daily went home with Hell

  trapped in their bodies and famished and insatiate

  with heavy ploughman meals and thirsty for 

  cold water buckets all day,

who funnelled into the streets from Lagos to 

  Abeokuta to Ibadan to Oshogbo to Akure 

  violently protesting the voided 1993 presidential election 

  Watershed with mournful elegies, with songs daring 

  soldiers to shoot they’re a multitude, with

  borne-fires, with stone projectiles, with Molotov 

  cocktail through twisted regiments of tyres& 

  woods &irons barricades until the mob wear itself 

  out or were put down namely by whip

  of the grape shots apologies to Napoleon de 

  Bonaparte,  

who rightly thought the Feds is a scam 

  doing nothing to change their condition and

  did nothing themselves,

who repeatedly fatally faltered

  trying to walk before crawling,

 who idle talk from bed to bathroom to streets

  to peeps bunks of big money hit 

  yet despised the day of little beginning,

who went away pregnant with disobedience 

  defying the grandfather summon advisories

  caution suffering cathartic miscarriage luckily

  in the lonesome night of repentant self flagellation

  or returned prodigal with gaunt babies of 

  lamentations fed on humble pie,

who sweetened a gifted lady first time in Calabar

  who was a gifted lady from the Carpenter

  without protective socks on his foreskin

  on a scorching sunny afternoon tabooed

  in the sloppy ground yonder wooden quarters

  on matted floor with peeled painful kneecaps

  to the bargain &icing on the trauma-cake Gonorrhoea

  from the mournful sober strumpet intimated 

  who perfectly mimic the shade of a sweet homely

  girl met a striking deserted Hospital

  on Sunday& later found succour 

  at a street corner Apothecary with the lady 

  in tow leaving her still without a broken heart,

who was given a weighted round of applause

  in real life scenario at Crusher prompted by the 

  Red neck Director visiting for convincing moving 

  speech tagged Cicero the future assembly man 

  without any business whatsoever being a 

  ploughman wasting away,

who lone it through Kubwa& had the 

  longest night of his life barred from re-entering

  the estate PHS by the Gorgon faced officious guard

  accused of disrespecting hisses unfairly pleaded

  to no avail wounding up with insomnia in a wooden 

  church erect on the cliff edge feted on 

  by an army of hungry mosquitoes 

  with ruthless abandon,

who hungry out-of-pocket threw needless

  tantrums with a BLLB to hell with a project

  long delayed angrily returned to no tranquillity 

  base Lagos cramped into overloaded 1414bus on

  a night trip with a role of mat strapped under 

  his armpit for goody bag,

who rude to the stocky supervising major 

  on site& was rewarded instantaneous with 

  thunderous slaps by his aide-de-camp corporal

  with accompanying blurry starry vision,

who picked on by the grumpy aggressive 

  sergeant demoted & felled tripped with a deep cut 

  to his pelvic pursued & was given a clean suture

  &analgesic at the MRS,

who was evicted now from a different site 

  by same stocky major for combativeness irreconcilable

  disputes &picketing &symbolic poison 

  to site harmony,

and left high spirited with the older loquacious

  Edo man now lost unforgotten 

  in the maddening Lagos crowd,

who were welcome ecstatic by the old comrades

  at abattoir where LSDPC was piloting a new

  set of project,

who bereaved grieving hollow eyed 

  starting their teary sojourn from afar largely ignored,

Who idle descended on News stand from 

  from dawn to dusk &went home without any 

  significant takeaway but heated disagreeable 

  cacophonies of intellectual supremacists tribalise

  voices &dusty eyed severe figure heads 

  rowdy in turn at the forum of the street,

who were indefatigable fanatic supporters

  either queueing behind remember the Star crooner

  who sang ‘whirling hipped ladies have usurped the 

  microphone from his hand’ or the bare-chested 

  street fighter pugilist Moon crooner in a never ending 

  superiority tussle bearing on their bloody heads

  burdensome migraine of the duo 

  with soaring away success paying lip service to theirs,

who were chronic bachelors repeatedly stabbed

  in the heart by loveless ravishing angels

  roaring at dawn in their hunt 

  of still waters greener pastures,

who jumped at every chanced discussion 

  on who the best player in the world is 

  or the richest- Messi or Ronaldo,

  an over flogged debate, 

who took to crime pickpocket in crowded bus stops

  pedestrian walks on rickety Molues plying shallow

  highway routes one-chance in smaller buses Varagons

  ripping their victims off valuables 

  pushed off on motion to their bruises deaths

  crushed by the unfortunate hit and run drivers,

who metamorphosis into superhighway bank vault 

  dynamite armed robbers to protest poverty ravaging

  the land perceived injustices to their regions 

  lopsided federalism non implementation of fiscal 

  federalism hopelessly,

a mass of rueful sobbing scapegoats 

  held by the wrists in lawman Hulux trucks 

  driven through the elephant gate

  behind wailing walls of lion building remand jails 

  &were never seen again,

who were disagreeable dagger-drawn 

  in crowded football Viewing centre at Bori camp 

  and escaped through the low walls 

  into the creeks without a trace 

  leaving somebody dripping in stanch,

who anticipatory painted a live cow in blue 

  on mainland Lagos to be butchered 

  for barbecue cocktail because Chelsea 

  they instinctively violently believe will win 

  for the first time UEFA champions 

  league &they  did &hell was let loose 

  with scores dead benighted by marijuana haze 

  alcoholic binge from reckless joyride 

  honking motorcade through shallow streets 

  dark under perpetual swathe 

  of power outage,

who went through universities with morale 

  high flown struggled not for lack of intellectual 

  abilities but material comfort pull it off

  below the  class and still celebrated,

who mandatory were posted to the North east

  the hot bed of murderous insurrectionists 

  Boko haram hole up in the Sambisa forest

  picked a pocketful of pellets on the streets 

  riding on the Bicycle and still had 

  a resourceful Atipo,    

who gambled away their tuition fees 

  gathered all night in empty apartment 

  of a Canadian trained aeronautic engineer 

  deportee and so dropped out of college 

  wondering where next to go but went nowhere 

  pass self destruct crack smoking

  street urchins, 

who were bosom friends and loyal comrades

  hustling in tattered clothes hooded disguised 

  undisguised eating bread the scalp of their 

  unshaven heads unknown,

who were the secret heroes and super heroes 

   of this poem now lost permanently non-permanently

   from Denis to Sam to Roger in specs not the 

   real name- sorrow to the memory of a gallant 

   hustler lost in his sleep lording it over 

   work and academics up in the centre of unity,

let heavens calm its impatient loom for our total

  homely recall for we are all speedily tracking  towards 

  our fated sunsets bound to the threesome old 

  mileage of Time divided,

who groaned in repeated interface 

  with the visionary Celestian shepherds 

  who were visionary sexy eyed Celestian prophetesses 

  trying to unravel the mystery behind 

  their multitude of woes,

 and went through bath rituals ringed 

  by three elders screaming Jah jah jah 

  with seven candle sticks sponge scent oil eggs coconut

  to be exhausted in running water

  or Blackstone stationary

  in the churchyard mercy land,

who slept for ten years on Boxguitars 

  Boxguitars Boxguitars with total indifference 

  woke up one morning with drear sting 

  of penitential paroxysm its scandalous to sojourn 

  in a music house without some love&

  a baggage of note,

presented himself before the familiar bedfellow 

  instructor maestro seated at the piano

  among a sea of nodding heads with a deluge 

  of request imperative ambitious learner&

  was given a crash lesson in 

  jazz fantasia,

but despair his maturation is slow 

  gave up midway and took a 

  night bus to Calabar to feed on his old vomit,

who was twice rendered homeless squatting 

  with childhood friends practically wooed in 

  & still keep their contacts and no ill feelings,

who after thought tried enlisting in the great army 

  but forgotten to doctor their particulars

  to reflect the new reality,

who peeped through keyhole night after night 

  for months on the master trembling pleading 

  for more in coitus with the sweet first snatch of girlfriend 

  I think from childhood and tiptoed to the furniture 

  wishing they could swap roles,

 who in stunning dramatic fashion repeatedly lose

  their caps instead to deathly probes 

  that should have taken them to the cleaner,

who hurriedly taxied home from the peninsula

  desperately sick dismounted at a crossroad

  sidewalk befuddled crossed the highway

  into gas station Sweet sensation round table 

  with a cold bottle of orange crush,

standing on their heels glad to inform all agonizing 

  well-wishers that the condition of the labouring mountains 

  is expectedly painful but stable and promises to 

  usher in the Visionary babies new dawns,

for fireplace intended for the vulture will only 

  end up consuming other birds so unfortunate!

     Note : 

BLLB stands for acronym of a Yoruba phrase- Bose Lo, 

   Lo Sebo; meaning to come home empty handed after a period of sojourn.

Atipo is a Yoruba word which generically qualifies anybody or the act of serving

  one’s fatherland especially after university education.     

          ....  For Denis Ojadeni

[olaluwe]

  Nudge by doubts fears carefree attitudes,

  Instead of being led by their dream boldly,

With few exemptions,

  Many of my contemporaries and I

  were ruined and nearly ruined by letting themselves

  be drown indecisive in the sweeping showers

  of their splashy dawn,

energeticyoungsters fresh out of school clueless

  fleetfooting themselves through countywide

  streets highways &alleyways too

  looking instead for ridiculous quick fix menial

  jobs sites when they should have charted 

  a career course,

who caught napping supine on the faeces

  of unprofitable endeavours sheer drudgery

  &were flapped silly by ugly humongous flies of 

  absolute ridicule undone inevitably crashed-in,

who sleepy eyed early birds daily converge

  on Tarmacs U-turn or Fagba for hopeful pick

  by kind familiar unfamiliar operators, 

  buoyant industrialists or stayed back 

  with spin of Shovels sprouting 

  fields of concrete bricks,

and daily went home with Hell

  trapped in their bodies and famished and insatiate

  with heavy ploughman meals and thirsty for 

  cold water buckets all day,

who funnelled into the streets from Lagos to 

  Abeokuta to Ibadan to Oshogbo to Akure 

  violently protesting the voided 1993 presidential election 

  Watershed with mournful elegies, with songs daring 

  soldiers to shoot they’re a multitude, with

  borne-fires, with stone projectiles, with Molotov 

  cocktail through twisted regiments of tyres& 

  woods &irons barricades until the mob wear itself 

  out or were put down namely by whip

  of the grape shots apologies to Napoleon de 

  Bonaparte,  

who rightly thought the Feds is a scam 

  doing nothing to change their condition and

  did nothing themselves,

who repeatedly fatally faltered

  trying to walk before crawling,

 who idle talk from bed to bathroom to streets

  to peeps bunks of big money hit 

  yet despised the day of little beginning,

who went away pregnant with disobedience 

  defying the grandfather summon advisories

  caution suffering cathartic miscarriage luckily

  in the lonesome night of repentant self flagellation

  or returned prodigal with gaunt babies of 

  lamentations fed on humble pie,

who sweetened a gifted lady first time in Calabar

  who was a gifted lady from the Carpenter

  without protective socks on his foreskin

  on a scorching sunny afternoon tabooed

  in the sloppy ground yonder wooden quarters

  on matted floor with peeled painful kneecaps

  to the bargain &icing on the trauma-cake Gonorrhoea

  from the mournful sober strumpet intimated 

  who perfectly mimic the shade of a sweet homely

  girl met a striking deserted Hospital

  on Sunday& later found succour 

  at a street corner Apothecary with the lady 

  in tow leaving her still without a broken heart,

who was given a weighted round of applause

  in real life scenario at Crusher prompted by the 

  Red neck Director visiting for convincing moving 

  speech tagged Cicero the future assembly man 

  without any business whatsoever being a 

  ploughman wasting away,

who lone it through Kubwa& had the 

  longest night of his life barred from re-entering

  the estate PHS by the Gorgon faced officious guard

  accused of disrespecting hisses unfairly pleaded

  to no avail wounding up with insomnia in a wooden 

  church erect on the cliff edge feted on 

  by an army of hungry mosquitoes 

  with ruthless abandon,

who hungry out-of-pocket threw needless

  tantrums with a BLLB to hell with a project

  long delayed angrily returned to no tranquillity 

  base Lagos cramped into overloaded 1414bus on

  a night trip with a role of mat strapped under 

  his armpit for goody bag,

who rude to the stocky supervising major 

  on site& was rewarded instantaneous with 

  thunderous slaps by his aide-de-camp corporal

  with accompanying blurry starry vision,

who picked on by the grumpy aggressive 

  sergeant demoted & felled tripped with a deep cut 

  to his pelvic pursued & was given a clean suture

  &analgesic at the MRS,

who was evicted now from a different site 

  by same stocky major for combativeness irreconcilable

  disputes &picketing &symbolic poison 

  to site harmony,

and left high spirited with the older loquacious

  Edo man now lost unforgotten 

  in the maddening Lagos crowd,

who were welcome ecstatic by the old comrades

  at abattoir where LSDPC was piloting a new

  set of project,

who bereaved grieving hollow eyed 

  starting their teary sojourn from afar largely ignored,

Who idle descended on News stand from 

  from dawn to dusk &went home without any 

  significant takeaway but heated disagreeable 

  cacophonies of intellectual supremacists tribalise

  voices &dusty eyed severe figure heads 

  rowdy in turn at the forum of the street,

who were indefatigable fanatic supporters

  either queueing behind remember the Star crooner

  who sang ‘whirling hipped ladies have usurped the 

  microphone from his hand’ or the bare-chested 

  street fighter pugilist Moon crooner in a never ending 

  superiority tussle bearing on their bloody heads

  burdensome migraine of the duo 

  with soaring away success paying lip service to theirs,

who were chronic bachelors repeatedly stabbed

  in the heart by loveless ravishing angels

  roaring at dawn in their hunt 

  of still waters greener pastures,

who jumped at every chanced discussion 

  on who the best player in the world is 

  or the richest- Messi or Ronaldo,

  an over flogged debate, 

who took to crime pickpocket in crowded bus stops

  pedestrian walks on rickety Molues plying shallow

  highway routes one-chance in smaller buses Varagons

  ripping their victims off valuables 

  pushed off on motion to their bruises deaths

  crushed by the unfortunate hit and run drivers,

who metamorphosis into superhighway bank vault 

  dynamite armed robbers to protest poverty ravaging

  the land perceived injustices to their regions 

  lopsided federalism non implementation of fiscal 

  federalism hopelessly,

a mass of rueful sobbing scapegoats 

  held by the wrists in lawman Hulux trucks 

  driven through the elephant gate

  behind wailing walls of lion building remand jails 

  &were never seen again,

who were disagreeable dagger-drawn 

  in crowded football Viewing centre at Bori camp 

  and escaped through the low walls 

  into the creeks without a trace 

  leaving somebody dripping in stanch,

who anticipatory painted a live cow in blue 

  on mainland Lagos to be butchered 

  for barbecue cocktail because Chelsea 

  they instinctively violently believe will win 

  for the first time UEFA champions 

  league &they  did &hell was let loose 

  with scores dead benighted by marijuana haze 

  alcoholic binge from reckless joyride 

  honking motorcade through shallow streets 

  dark under perpetual swathe 

  of power outage,

who went through universities with morale 

  high flown struggled not for lack of intellectual 

  abilities but material comfort pull it off

  below the  class and still celebrated,

who mandatory were posted to the North east

  the hot bed of murderous insurrectionists 

  Boko haram hole up in the Sambisa forest

  picked a pocketful of pellets on the streets 

  riding on the Bicycle and still had 

  a resourceful Atipo,    

who gambled away their tuition fees 

  gathered all night in empty apartment 

  of a Canadian trained aeronautic engineer 

  deportee and so dropped out of college 

  wondering where next to go but went nowhere 

  pass self destruct crack smoking

  street urchins, 

who were bosom friends and loyal comrades

  hustling in tattered clothes hooded disguised 

  undisguised eating bread the scalp of their 

  unshaven heads unknown,

who were the secret heroes and super heroes 

   of this poem now lost permanently non-permanently

   from Denis to Sam to Roger in specs not the 

   real name- sorrow to the memory of a gallant 

   hustler lost in his sleep lording it over 

   work and academics up in the centre of unity,

let heavens calm its impatient loom for our total

  homely recall for we are all speedily tracking  towards 

  our fated sunsets bound to the threesome old 

  mileage of Time divided,

who groaned in repeated interface 

  with the visionary Celestian shepherds 

  who were visionary sexy eyed Celestian prophetesses 

  trying to unravel the mystery behind 

  their multitude of woes,

 and went through bath rituals ringed 

  by three elders screaming Jah jah jah 

  with seven candle sticks sponge scent oil eggs coconut

  to be exhausted in running water

  or Blackstone stationary

  in the churchyard mercy land,

who slept for ten years on Boxguitars 

  Boxguitars Boxguitars with total indifference 

  woke up one morning with drear sting 

  of penitential paroxysm its scandalous to sojourn 

  in a music house without some love&

  a baggage of note,

presented himself before the familiar bedfellow 

  instructor maestro seated at the piano

  among a sea of nodding heads with a deluge 

  of request imperative ambitious learner&

  was given a crash lesson in 

  jazz fantasia,

but despair his maturation is slow 

  gave up midway and took a 

  night bus to Calabar to feed on his old vomit,

who was twice rendered homeless squatting 

  with childhood friends practically wooed in 

  & still keep their contacts and no ill feelings,

who after thought tried enlisting in the great army 

  but forgotten to doctor their particulars

  to reflect the new reality,

who peeped through keyhole night after night 

  for months on the master trembling pleading 

  for more in coitus with the sweet first snatch of girlfriend 

  I think from childhood and tiptoed to the furniture 

  wishing they could swap roles,

 who in stunning dramatic fashion repeatedly lose

  their caps instead to deathly probes 

  that should have taken them to the cleaner,

who hurriedly taxied home from the peninsula

  desperately sick dismounted at a crossroad

  sidewalk befuddled crossed the highway

  into gas station Sweet sensation round table 

  with a cold bottle of orange crush,

standing on their heels glad to inform all agonizing 

  well-wishers that the condition of the labouring mountains 

  is expectedly painful but stable and promises to 

  usher in the Visionary babies new dawns,

for fireplace intended for the vulture will only 

  end up consuming other birds so unfortunate!

     Note : 

BLLB stands for acronym of a Yoruba phrase- Bose Lo, 

   Lo Sebo; meaning to come home empty handed after a period of sojourn.

Atipo is a Yoruba word which generically qualifies anybody or the act of serving

  one’s fatherland especially after university education.     

          ....  For Denis Ojadeni

[olaluwe]

  Nudge by doubts fears carefree attitudes,

  Instead of being led by their dream boldly,

With few exemptions,

  Many of my contemporaries and I

  were ruined and nearly ruined by letting themselves

  be drown indecisive in the sweeping showers

  of their splashy dawn,

energeticyoungsters fresh out of school clueless

  fleetfooting themselves through countywide

  streets highways &alleyways too

  looking instead for ridiculous quick fix menial

  jobs sites when they should have charted 

  a career course,

who caught napping supine on the faeces

  of unprofitable endeavours sheer drudgery

  &were flapped silly by ugly humongous flies of 

  absolute ridicule undone inevitably crashed-in,

who sleepy eyed early birds daily converge

  on Tarmacs U-turn or Fagba for hopeful pick

  by kind familiar unfamiliar operators, 

  buoyant industrialists or stayed back 

  with spin of Shovels sprouting 

  fields of concrete bricks,

and daily went home with Hell

  trapped in their bodies and famished and insatiate

  with heavy ploughman meals and thirsty for 

  cold water buckets all day,

who funnelled into the streets from Lagos to 

  Abeokuta to Ibadan to Oshogbo to Akure 

  violently protesting the voided 1993 presidential election 

  Watershed with mournful elegies, with songs daring 

  soldiers to shoot they’re a multitude, with

  borne-fires, with stone projectiles, with Molotov 

  cocktail through twisted regiments of tyres& 

  woods &irons barricades until the mob wear itself 

  out or were put down namely by whip

  of the grape shots apologies to Napoleon de 

  Bonaparte,  

who rightly thought the Feds is a scam 

  doing nothing to change their condition and

  did nothing themselves,

who repeatedly fatally faltered

  trying to walk before crawling,

 who idle talk from bed to bathroom to streets

  to peeps bunks of big money hit 

  yet despised the day of little beginning,

who went away pregnant with disobedience 

  defying the grandfather summon advisories

  caution suffering cathartic miscarriage luckily

  in the lonesome night of repentant self flagellation

  or returned prodigal with gaunt babies of 

  lamentations fed on humble pie,

who sweetened a gifted lady first time in Calabar

  who was a gifted lady from the Carpenter

  without protective socks on his foreskin

  on a scorching sunny afternoon tabooed

  in the sloppy ground yonder wooden quarters

  on matted floor with peeled painful kneecaps

  to the bargain &icing on the trauma-cake Gonorrhoea

  from the mournful sober strumpet intimated 

  who perfectly mimic the shade of a sweet homely

  girl met a striking deserted Hospital

  on Sunday& later found succour 

  at a street corner Apothecary with the lady 

  in tow leaving her still without a broken heart,

who was given a weighted round of applause

  in real life scenario at Crusher prompted by the 

  Red neck Director visiting for convincing moving 

  speech tagged Cicero the future assembly man 

  without any business whatsoever being a 

  ploughman wasting away,

who lone it through Kubwa& had the 

  longest night of his life barred from re-entering

  the estate PHS by the Gorgon faced officious guard

  accused of disrespecting hisses unfairly pleaded

  to no avail wounding up with insomnia in a wooden 

  church erect on the cliff edge feted on 

  by an army of hungry mosquitoes 

  with ruthless abandon,

who hungry out-of-pocket threw needless

  tantrums with a BLLB to hell with a project

  long delayed angrily returned to no tranquillity 

  base Lagos cramped into overloaded 1414bus on

  a night trip with a role of mat strapped under 

  his armpit for goody bag,

who rude to the stocky supervising major 

  on site& was rewarded instantaneous with 

  thunderous slaps by his aide-de-camp corporal

  with accompanying blurry starry vision,

who picked on by the grumpy aggressive 

  sergeant demoted & felled tripped with a deep cut 

  to his pelvic pursued & was given a clean suture

  &analgesic at the MRS,

who was evicted now from a different site 

  by same stocky major for combativeness irreconcilable

  disputes &picketing &symbolic poison 

  to site harmony,

and left high spirited with the older loquacious

  Edo man now lost unforgotten 

  in the maddening Lagos crowd,

who were welcome ecstatic by the old comrades

  at abattoir where LSDPC was piloting a new

  set of project,

who bereaved grieving hollow eyed 

  starting their teary sojourn from afar largely ignored,

Who idle descended on News stand from 

  from dawn to dusk &went home without any 

  significant takeaway but heated disagreeable 

  cacophonies of intellectual supremacists tribalise

  voices &dusty eyed severe figure heads 

  rowdy in turn at the forum of the street,

who were indefatigable fanatic supporters

  either queueing behind remember the Star crooner

  who sang ‘whirling hipped ladies have usurped the 

  microphone from his hand’ or the bare-chested 

  street fighter pugilist Moon crooner in a never ending 

  superiority tussle bearing on their bloody heads

  burdensome migraine of the duo 

  with soaring away success paying lip service to theirs,

who were chronic bachelors repeatedly stabbed

  in the heart by loveless ravishing angels

  roaring at dawn in their hunt 

  of still waters greener pastures,

who jumped at every chanced discussion 

  on who the best player in the world is 

  or the richest- Messi or Ronaldo,

  an over flogged debate, 

who took to crime pickpocket in crowded bus stops

  pedestrian walks on rickety Molues plying shallow

  highway routes one-chance in smaller buses Varagons

  ripping their victims off valuables 

  pushed off on motion to their bruises deaths

  crushed by the unfortunate hit and run drivers,

who metamorphosis into superhighway bank vault 

  dynamite armed robbers to protest poverty ravaging

  the land perceived injustices to their regions 

  lopsided federalism non implementation of fiscal 

  federalism hopelessly,

a mass of rueful sobbing scapegoats 

  held by the wrists in lawman Hulux trucks 

  driven through the elephant gate

  behind wailing walls of lion building remand jails 

  &were never seen again,

who were disagreeable dagger-drawn 

  in crowded football Viewing centre at Bori camp 

  and escaped through the low walls 

  into the creeks without a trace 

  leaving somebody dripping in stanch,

who anticipatory painted a live cow in blue 

  on mainland Lagos to be butchered 

  for barbecue cocktail because Chelsea 

  they instinctively violently believe will win 

  for the first time UEFA champions 

  league &they  did &hell was let loose 

  with scores dead benighted by marijuana haze 

  alcoholic binge from reckless joyride 

  honking motorcade through shallow streets 

  dark under perpetual swathe 

  of power outage,

who went through universities with morale 

  high flown struggled not for lack of intellectual 

  abilities but material comfort pull it off

  below the  class and still celebrated,

who mandatory were posted to the North east

  the hot bed of murderous insurrectionists 

  Boko haram hole up in the Sambisa forest

  picked a pocketful of pellets on the streets 

  riding on the Bicycle and still had 

  a resourceful Atipo,    

who gambled away their tuition fees 

  gathered all night in empty apartment 

  of a Canadian trained aeronautic engineer 

  deportee and so dropped out of college 

  wondering where next to go but went nowhere 

  pass self destruct crack smoking

  street urchins, 

who were bosom friends and loyal comrades

  hustling in tattered clothes hooded disguised 

  undisguised eating bread the scalp of their 

  unshaven heads unknown,

who were the secret heroes and super heroes 

   of this poem now lost permanently non-permanently

   from Denis to Sam to Roger in specs not the 

   real name- sorrow to the memory of a gallant 

   hustler lost in his sleep lording it over 

   work and academics up in the centre of unity,

let heavens calm its impatient loom for our total

  homely recall for we are all speedily tracking  towards 

  our fated sunsets bound to the threesome old 

  mileage of Time divided,

who groaned in repeated interface 

  with the visionary Celestian shepherds 

  who were visionary sexy eyed Celestian prophetesses 

  trying to unravel the mystery behind 

  their multitude of woes,

 and went through bath rituals ringed 

  by three elders screaming Jah jah jah 

  with seven candle sticks sponge scent oil eggs coconut

  to be exhausted in running water

  or Blackstone stationary

  in the churchyard mercy land,

who slept for ten years on Boxguitars 

  Boxguitars Boxguitars with total indifference 

  woke up one morning with drear sting 

  of penitential paroxysm its scandalous to sojourn 

  in a music house without some love&

  a baggage of note,

presented himself before the familiar bedfellow 

  instructor maestro seated at the piano

  among a sea of nodding heads with a deluge 

  of request imperative ambitious learner&

  was given a crash lesson in 

  jazz fantasia,

but despair his maturation is slow 

  gave up midway and took a 

  night bus to Calabar to feed on his old vomit,

who was twice rendered homeless squatting 

  with childhood friends practically wooed in 

  & still keep their contacts and no ill feelings,

who after thought tried enlisting in the great army 

  but forgotten to doctor their particulars

  to reflect the new reality,

who peeped through keyhole night after night 

  for months on the master trembling pleading 

  for more in coitus with the sweet first snatch of girlfriend 

  I think from childhood and tiptoed to the furniture 

  wishing they could swap roles,

 who in stunning dramatic fashion repeatedly lose

  their caps instead to deathly probes 

  that should have taken them to the cleaner,

who hurriedly taxied home from the peninsula

  desperately sick dismounted at a crossroad

  sidewalk befuddled crossed the highway

  into gas station Sweet sensation round table 

  with a cold bottle of orange crush,

standing on their heels glad to inform all agonizing 

  well-wishers that the condition of the labouring mountains 

  is expectedly painful but stable and promises to 

  usher in the Visionary babies new dawns,

for fireplace intended for the vulture will only 

  end up consuming other birds so unfortunate!

     Note : 

BLLB stands for acronym of a Yoruba phrase- Bose Lo, 

   Lo Sebo; meaning to come home empty handed after a period of sojourn.

Atipo is a Yoruba word which generically qualifies anybody or the act of serving

  one’s fatherland especially after university education.     

          ....  For Denis Ojadeni

[olaluwe]

  Nudge by doubts fears carefree attitudes,

  Instead of being led by their dream boldly,

With few exemptions,

  Many of my contemporaries and I

  were ruined and nearly ruined by letting themselves

  be drown indecisive in the sweeping showers

  of their splashy dawn,

energeticyoungsters fresh out of school clueless

  fleetfooting themselves through countywide

  streets highways &alleyways too

  looking instead for ridiculous quick fix menial

  jobs sites when they should have charted 

  a career course,

who caught napping supine on the faeces

  of unprofitable endeavours sheer drudgery

  &were flapped silly by ugly humongous flies of 

  absolute ridicule undone inevitably crashed-in,

who sleepy eyed early birds daily converge

  on Tarmacs U-turn or Fagba for hopeful pick

  by kind familiar unfamiliar operators, 

  buoyant industrialists or stayed back 

  with spin of Shovels sprouting 

  fields of concrete bricks,

and daily went home with Hell

  trapped in their bodies and famished and insatiate

  with heavy ploughman meals and thirsty for 

  cold water buckets all day,

who funnelled into the streets from Lagos to 

  Abeokuta to Ibadan to Oshogbo to Akure 

  violently protesting the voided 1993 presidential election 

  Watershed with mournful elegies, with songs daring 

  soldiers to shoot they’re a multitude, with

  borne-fires, with stone projectiles, with Molotov 

  cocktail through twisted regiments of tyres& 

  woods &irons barricades until the mob wear itself 

  out or were put down namely by whip

  of the grape shots apologies to Napoleon de 

  Bonaparte,  

who rightly thought the Feds is a scam 

  doing nothing to change their condition and

  did nothing themselves,

who repeatedly fatally faltered

  trying to walk before crawling,

 who idle talk from bed to bathroom to streets

  to peeps bunks of big money hit 

  yet despised the day of little beginning,

who went away pregnant with disobedience 

  defying the grandfather summon advisories

  caution suffering cathartic miscarriage luckily

  in the lonesome night of repentant self flagellation

  or returned prodigal with gaunt babies of 

  lamentations fed on humble pie,

who sweetened a gifted lady first time in Calabar

  who was a gifted lady from the Carpenter

  without protective socks on his foreskin

  on a scorching sunny afternoon tabooed

  in the sloppy ground yonder wooden quarters

  on matted floor with peeled painful kneecaps

  to the bargain &icing on the trauma-cake Gonorrhoea

  from the mournful sober strumpet intimated 

  who perfectly mimic the shade of a sweet homely

  girl met a striking deserted Hospital

  on Sunday& later found succour 

  at a street corner Apothecary with the lady 

  in tow leaving her still without a broken heart,

who was given a weighted round of applause

  in real life scenario at Crusher prompted by the 

  Red neck Director visiting for convincing moving 

  speech tagged Cicero the future assembly man 

  without any business whatsoever being a 

  ploughman wasting away,

who lone it through Kubwa& had the 

  longest night of his life barred from re-entering

  the estate PHS by the Gorgon faced officious guard

  accused of disrespecting hisses unfairly pleaded

  to no avail wounding up with insomnia in a wooden 

  church erect on the cliff edge feted on 

  by an army of hungry mosquitoes 

  with ruthless abandon,

who hungry out-of-pocket threw needless

  tantrums with a BLLB to hell with a project

  long delayed angrily returned to no tranquillity 

  base Lagos cramped into overloaded 1414bus on

  a night trip with a role of mat strapped under 

  his armpit for goody bag,

who rude to the stocky supervising major 

  on site& was rewarded instantaneous with 

  thunderous slaps by his aide-de-camp corporal

  with accompanying blurry starry vision,

who picked on by the grumpy aggressive 

  sergeant demoted & felled tripped with a deep cut 

  to his pelvic pursued & was given a clean suture

  &analgesic at the MRS,

who was evicted now from a different site 

  by same stocky major for combativeness irreconcilable

  disputes &picketing &symbolic poison 

  to site harmony,

and left high spirited with the older loquacious

  Edo man now lost unforgotten 

  in the maddening Lagos crowd,

who were welcome ecstatic by the old comrades

  at abattoir where LSDPC was piloting a new

  set of project,

who bereaved grieving hollow eyed 

  starting their teary sojourn from afar largely ignored,

Who idle descended on News stand from 

  from dawn to dusk &went home without any 

  significant takeaway but heated disagreeable 

  cacophonies of intellectual supremacists tribalise

  voices &dusty eyed severe figure heads 

  rowdy in turn at the forum of the street,

who were indefatigable fanatic supporters

  either queueing behind remember the Star crooner

  who sang ‘whirling hipped ladies have usurped the 

  microphone from his hand’ or the bare-chested 

  street fighter pugilist Moon crooner in a never ending 

  superiority tussle bearing on their bloody heads

  burdensome migraine of the duo 

  with soaring away success paying lip service to theirs,

who were chronic bachelors repeatedly stabbed

  in the heart by loveless ravishing angels

  roaring at dawn in their hunt 

  of still waters greener pastures,

who jumped at every chanced discussion 

  on who the best player in the world is 

  or the richest- Messi or Ronaldo,

  an over flogged debate, 

who took to crime pickpocket in crowded bus stops

  pedestrian walks on rickety Molues plying shallow

  highway routes one-chance in smaller buses Varagons

  ripping their victims off valuables 

  pushed off on motion to their bruises deaths

  crushed by the unfortunate hit and run drivers,

who metamorphosis into superhighway bank vault 

  dynamite armed robbers to protest poverty ravaging

  the land perceived injustices to their regions 

  lopsided federalism non implementation of fiscal 

  federalism hopelessly,

a mass of rueful sobbing scapegoats 

  held by the wrists in lawman Hulux trucks 

  driven through the elephant gate

  behind wailing walls of lion building remand jails 

  &were never seen again,

who were disagreeable dagger-drawn 

  in crowded football Viewing centre at Bori camp 

  and escaped through the low walls 

  into the creeks without a trace 

  leaving somebody dripping in stanch,

who anticipatory painted a live cow in blue 

  on mainland Lagos to be butchered 

  for barbecue cocktail because Chelsea 

  they instinctively violently believe will win 

  for the first time UEFA champions 

  league &they  did &hell was let loose 

  with scores dead benighted by marijuana haze 

  alcoholic binge from reckless joyride 

  honking motorcade through shallow streets 

  dark under perpetual swathe 

  of power outage,

who went through universities with morale 

  high flown struggled not for lack of intellectual 

  abilities but material comfort pull it off

  below the  class and still celebrated,

who mandatory were posted to the North east

  the hot bed of murderous insurrectionists 

  Boko haram hole up in the Sambisa forest

  picked a pocketful of pellets on the streets 

  riding on the Bicycle and still had 

  a resourceful Atipo,    

who gambled away their tuition fees 

  gathered all night in empty apartment 

  of a Canadian trained aeronautic engineer 

  deportee and so dropped out of college 

  wondering where next to go but went nowhere 

  pass self destruct crack smoking

  street urchins, 

who were bosom friends and loyal comrades

  hustling in tattered clothes hooded disguised 

  undisguised eating bread the scalp of their 

  unshaven heads unknown,

who were the secret heroes and super heroes 

   of this poem now lost permanently non-permanently

   from Denis to Sam to Roger in specs not the 

   real name- sorrow to the memory of a gallant 

   hustler lost in his sleep lording it over 

   work and academics up in the centre of unity,

let heavens calm its impatient loom for our total

  homely recall for we are all speedily tracking  towards 

  our fated sunsets bound to the threesome old 

  mileage of Time divided,

who groaned in repeated interface 

  with the visionary Celestian shepherds 

  who were visionary sexy eyed Celestian prophetesses 

  trying to unravel the mystery behind 

  their multitude of woes,

 and went through bath rituals ringed 

  by three elders screaming Jah jah jah 

  with seven candle sticks sponge scent oil eggs coconut

  to be exhausted in running water

  or Blackstone stationary

  in the churchyard mercy land,

who slept for ten years on Boxguitars 

  Boxguitars Boxguitars with total indifference 

  woke up one morning with drear sting 

  of penitential paroxysm its scandalous to sojourn 

  in a music house without some love&

  a baggage of note,

presented himself before the familiar bedfellow 

  instructor maestro seated at the piano

  among a sea of nodding heads with a deluge 

  of request imperative ambitious learner&

  was given a crash lesson in 

  jazz fantasia,

but despair his maturation is slow 

  gave up midway and took a 

  night bus to Calabar to feed on his old vomit,

who was twice rendered homeless squatting 

  with childhood friends practically wooed in 

  & still keep their contacts and no ill feelings,

who after thought tried enlisting in the great army 

  but forgotten to doctor their particulars

  to reflect the new reality,

who peeped through keyhole night after night 

  for months on the master trembling pleading 

  for more in coitus with the sweet first snatch of girlfriend 

  I think from childhood and tiptoed to the furniture 

  wishing they could swap roles,

 who in stunning dramatic fashion repeatedly lose

  their caps instead to deathly probes 

  that should have taken them to the cleaner,

who hurriedly taxied home from the peninsula

  desperately sick dismounted at a crossroad

  sidewalk befuddled crossed the highway

  into gas station Sweet sensation round table 

  with a cold bottle of orange crush,

standing on their heels glad to inform all agonizing 

  well-wishers that the condition of the labouring mountains 

  is expectedly painful but stable and promises to 

  usher in the Visionary babies new dawns,

for fireplace intended for the vulture will only 

  end up consuming other birds so unfortunate!

     Note : 

BLLB stands for acronym of a Yoruba phrase- Bose Lo, 

   Lo Sebo; meaning to come home empty handed after a period of sojourn.

Atipo is a Yoruba word which generically qualifies anybody or the act of serving

  one’s fatherland especially after university education.     

          ....  For Denis Ojadeni