#tea tokes

[litrituals]

Yes, you can smoke calendula.

This is our favorite focus centered blend! Check it out @ Lit Rituals

[teatokes]

Smoking herbs might just help you ditch the adderall... Gotu Kola is a heavy brain hitter. Read more in this blog post 

[ibreathered]

Still missing summer but finally accepting the cozy winter vibes again. Vanilla earl grey and Elder Scrolls Oblivion 🙂

[a03heralding]

Bg3 blunt rotation headcanons:

Karlach: does not stop fucking laughing. She’s def wheezing at a joke she overheard in a lesbian bar three and a half years ago while in the middle of a sentence. The type who starts a story and ends up laughing so hard she can’t finish it.

Halsin: mellow as hell, is always encouraging the group to go for a nice walk somewhere while stoned to shit. Will he pass out or will he be caressing the flowers in his backyard? No one knows.

Shadowheart: Sis is asleep after a joint or a few hits from the bong. Is likely sleeping on Lae’zel’s shoulder with a blanket around her. We love her for that tho bc she looks so cute.

Jaheira: she is forreal trying to tell you that we’re all living in someone’s sims save or how aliens made the pyramids. Also always pulls up to the session at the most random times.

Lae’zel: when she does smoke she usually ends up tripping the fuck out and is staring at the wall like a dog that’s accidentally eaten an edible. Doesn’t partake anymore but will come and chill and act as Shart’s personal resting post.

Astarion: the one who is chatting the most shit, probably has the joint in a cigarette holder like curella de’vil. The main source of Karlach’s laughter. Is also constantly asking for Nicki Minaj songs to be added to the Spotify queue.

Wyll: straight up vibes, is probably hogging the snacks to himself tho but he’s busting jokes and laughing with Karlach about stupid shit

Gale: the person in charge of the playlist and the only one who can actually roll. He is very particular about the music bc he believes it sets the mood for the high. Is constantly denying Astarion’s request to play Chun li but puts on random shit like khazakstani jazz

Minthara: enabling Astarion’s shit talking and spilling the piping hot tea. The least faded out of all of them (except lae). Has a screenshot folder that she shows astarion so they can be shady.

Aylin: she’s productive when she’s stoned, is likely cooking something or has gone for a jog/ doing a task while wearing her socks/ Birkenstock combo

Isobel: the mom friend who is making sure everyone is drinking water and is getting fresh air while fried.

Withers: the za dealer. You have to go to his house and he only sells a min of 6gs at a time. Usually chilling and trying to hide his weed plants from the cops bc his neighbours are snitches ngl

Minsc and boo (sry I be forgetting): Brings his hamster to the function bc he doesn't want him to be lonely and believes that his best bud deserves a toke as well. Boo is a literal fucking menace and bites those who object to giving him any. There is literally always an argument bc of this but Minsc is ready to fight for his child.

[red-viewe]

general lilia x reader thoughts 🔫 (part two✌)

COLORED TEXT IS FAE LANGUAGE (tw: metions of bl99d, swearing)

Part 1 part 3

---

'Fuck my life.'

Here's the tea. You found a half-dead but sexy asf fae on your sidewalk and decided, 'Hey! Let's bring him in, warp him up and fall asleep!' Which was a stupid decision, because now, you're leaning against Mr. Hot Guy's head, pretending to be asleep, because right now, THE FAE GUY IS AWAKE AND HE MIGHT KILL YOU.

After about 5 minutes of awkward silence, this happened.

"I know you're awake."

He said, as he slowly started to get up from the couch. "W-wow, i didn't think you would notice..." God, get yourself together, dude.

"Where am I?" He says, turning to the very sweaty(?) you. God, this man is so hot.

"You're in my house...in the woods, a-and you shouldn't stand up right now, you're still injured.

" You abruptly stand and gently push him down back on to the couch.

"I'm Y/n L/n, by the way... " Mr. Fae still seemed to be om guard.

"Why did you save me? Don't you know about the war going on right now?" He asks in a stern tone (which was kind of hot...).

"Well, war is stupid when you can literally solve everything without death." You say as you walked away into the kitchen.

"...Is that so.." He mumbled.

---

It toke time for the fae to tell you his name, you respected that. You wouldn't tell a stranger your name either. (Expect you did, but we ignore that) Afte a while, he finally said to juat call him Liliy. Being shot in the stomach with an iron arrow, it toke Liliy time to be able to actually move, but it was progress.

Your days suddenly became more interesting, as you spent more time with him, learning more and more about him.

Like how he's insanely good at games, even when he doesn't try, or when he sometimes helps you prepare for the day before you open the bar.

---

"I'm not playing with you anymore." You cry in a joking tone as you lose yet again another game of chess.

"Pft, if you'd like, perhaps you'd desire an easier game? May i suggest rock paper sissors?" Liliy says with mischievous smirk on his face.

"Oh, screw you."

'Is this man trying to poison me?' Was the first thought you had when you opened the lunch Liliy attempted to make for you.

"It can't be that bad..." You say out loud, slightly gagging when you scooped up some of the meal(?) onto your spoon.

---

And...sweet moments, which made your heart beat a little faster and your cheeks warm up.

---

"Sleeping late, beastie?" Liliy said, as he toke some of your hair into his hands and started combing playing with it, making you blush when you felt his breath a little too close.

"Mhm, I'm doing some stinky taxes before i go to bed." You said, writing down information. After a while of liliy playing with your hair, you started to feel drowsy and fell asleep, waking up the next day on your bed, with a half asleep liliy next to you, staring at you with half closed eye lids and a blush on his face.

'How are you so freaking fine?'

---

You honestly did not know when you and the fae started getting so comfortable with each other, but are grateful for your friendship with Liliy.

---

The some of the buildings were set ablaze, others half torn apart, and human bounty hunters were tearing the town apart looking for Lilia Vanrouge. Rumours of the infamous general seeking refuge with someone spread far and wide, wide enough to reach the ears of the royal family. The bounty on his head was more than 9 million thaumarks, and bounty hunters were eager to find the fae.

'Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck' You screamed on your mind as you swiftly ran back to your home in the woods, running from the danger.

"LIliy!" You burst into your home, praying that your fae would still be there.

"Y/n." Liliy was dressed in the armour you found him in, with his gargoyle mask on this head, carrying his weapon. "I have something to tell you, beastie."

"That you're Lilia Vanrouge, I know." You're not stupid. You saw the bounty posters. Bro.

"Are you leaving..?" You silently said, eyes meeting his.

Lilia stepped closer, his voice now low and soft.

"I have to. If I don't I- You- my queen needs me, and it's too dangerous for me t-" You hug him, eyes watering. Lilia's arms gently embrace you, and he kisses your forehead. "I swear I'll be back, my love"

Tears fall down your face, as he slowly releases you and leaves, turning back for one last glance of you.

'Please come back'

--

Authors note

This one was a bit sad😭 maybe if i finish part 3 i can make some side stories with crack and stuff 😭🙏Would you like that ?🤔

(Also just comment if you want to be tagged if theres a next one)

(Tag list: @anonima-2)

[harringtons-cupid]

2 with Eds? 🤭

So I went out last night for the first time in a long time and well this is based off that :)

2#- “Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.”

| Buy me a tea | Masterlist

You were dancing with him, your ex boyfriend in the club. Completely unaware that Eddie was stood in the corner watching you, the blood boiled around his body as he stood there.

The lights bounced off you both, your bodies perfectly apart as you moved to the music. Your boobs slipping out your black body con, he thought you looked perfect.

His cup was getting squeezed tighter and tighter as he watched your ex stroke a piece of hair off your face. Practically growling loudly at you both, he went to take a step forward in anger until a warm hand stopped you.

“Yo man, leave it out. She loves you” Steve voice was slurred and calm in Eddie’s ear.

“Fine, let’s go smoke” he grunted, twirling both a blunt and a cigarette in his hand.

Steve nodded and escorted Eddie outside, watching as he took one last glance at you.

The flicker of the lighter echoed amongst the chatter of people, Steve stood facing Eddie as he smoked his way quickly through the cigarette. His body shaking with anger, his eyes darting from person to person until he saw you.

Throwing away the cigarette and began lighting the blunt, pressing his back as far into the wall as he could. Steve followed him as he exhaled a big gust of smoke into his face with a laugh.

Passing it between each other, Eddie’s anger grew more and more distant. Laughing with Steve loudly as you stood in the corner with your ex boyfriend and friends, finally noticing Eddie from the waft of weed.

You bounced over all full of happiness and energy, you didn’t drink but you enjoyed dancing.

“Eds! I didn’t see you here, when did you arrive?” Your voice was rambling as you gazed at him with a smile.

“I’ve been here for a while” his voice was bitter as he blew smoke at you before looking at Steve.

“Having a good night?” Steve spoke between exhales, hovering the blunt in front of you.

Nodding you took it and inhaled hard, coughing loudly with an exhale. You rarely smoked but sleeping with Eddie was the only chance you did.

“Well I’m going to go back and dance. See you later Steve, bye Ed’s” you hugged Steve but stroked Eddie’s hand before dashing off inside.

Eddie shrugged as Steve laughed as they both watched you disappear inside. Leaving them alone with the rest of the blunt and your ex boyfriend.

Steve knew that Eddie was waiting to pounce so he dangled another blunt in front of his eyes and they walked away from the building.

As the lighting of the blunt glowed in both their faces, seated on a cool wooden bench.

“I just think he teases her and stuff to wind me up, he knows all about me. Knows that she’s mine” he growled, tugging his hair back off his face.

Steve reached forward and passed him the blunt,

“Well don’t let him get to you man, she is yours and he’s doing it ok purpose. It’ll be fine” steve nodded, watching as your ex boyfriend went inside.

They stayed out there until the club slowly began to close, your voice echoed throughout the corridors of the building until you ran over to see both boys.

Giddy and happy to see both Eddie and Steve.

“Hey guys! I missed you in there” you panted with energy.

Sitting yourself down on the bench next to Eddie, your hand instantly sliding onto his knee. Steve passed you the blunt, your eyes locking with Eddie’s as you took a toke.

Giggling as Steve pulled ramen in silly faces across the table at you, your hand palming Eddie’s crotch underneath the table. You stayed with them even after your ex boyfriend stroked your shoulder as he walked past.

After finishing the blunts, Eddie and Steve walked with you back through town. You lived closer to Steve, Eddie’s hand in yours as you watched Steve walk back home.

Quietly unlocking the front door of your house with Eddie’s body pressed onto yours, his hands cupping your ass as you suppressed your giggles.

Once inside you clung to Eddie like a puppy wagging their tail, you were hot and horny for him. Kissing his neck aggressively, nibbling down onto his skin. Grinding yourself against his leg as you weaved your body around his.

“I need you Eds” you whined, sliding your finger down his chest until you twanged his boxers against his skin.

Wincing at the pain, he bit his lip. Pulling you off him, lifting you over his shoulder and throwing you hard onto the bed. Spreading your legs apart as he routed through your “sex toy” draw until the rope hit against the metal bed.

You had scrambled to change into nothing as laid on the bed staring at him, as he noticed you again. Mumbling “fuck” before regaining his self control and whipped the rope against your nipples.

Gulping hard as your eyes observed Eddie, patiently as he yanked your arms and legs apart. Stretching them so they met each the fake diamond headboard knobs, clasping your arms around the metal as he tied it around your ankles and wrists with a smirk.

Wriggling to get free, your hands hit against the metal.

“What are you going to do to me Eddie? Please say you’ll fuck this pussy, I need it” you whined loudly, still rattling your body against the bed in protest.

“No.” His voice was stern as he walked around the bed, wondering what to do with you.

You were whimpering loudly, your hips bucking aggressively against the bed. Begging to be touched, his eyes burnt into yours as he stripped naked in front of you. His cock bounced as it was released from his clothes.

He stroked his cock at the edge of the bed, hovering over your cold naked body.

“Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.” He growled at you, squeezing his hand around his cock as he dragged it down your body.

Spanking your clit with his tip, you gasped at the pressure. Feeling him slide it between your folds, teasing your entrance before removing himself from you completely.

Returning to your “sex toy” draw, grabbing an extra bit of rope and your favourite vibrator. That mischievous smirk plastered upon his face as he wrapped the rope around your torse, slipping the vibrator underneath the rope and pressing it against your clit.

You panted as you tried to prepare yourself for what would happen next. The rope digging into your skin as the vibrator was turned on, instantly rippling against your exposed wet clit.

“Oh fuck Eddie, it feels good” you moaned, your eyes closed tightly as your head pushed deeper into your pillows.

Eddie hovered over you at the end of the bed, his hand over his throbbing precum stained cock. Watching you as your body shook against the vibrator, your moans echoed into the room.

The clock on your bed flashed the time, reminding Eddie that you needed to be quiet. Leaning over your face, he slapped your face with his cock.

“You gotta be quiet little one” he coed in your ear as his tip teased your lips.

Your wet mouth slowly took his cock, his body straddling over your tits. His moans rippling against the wall as his cock hit the back of your throat. Your eyes watering as he fucked your face.

“Your pussy will not get fucked with my cock but your mouth will, for now” he shuddered as you tightened your lips around his cock.

He had previously trained your mouth to take his fat cock whole, as he looked down at you. He felt proud as you didn’t gag once.

The vibrator was still pressing against your dripping clit, your legs shaking hard on the bed. Your moans rippling against his cock as it twitched inside your mouth.

Gasping hard as you edged closer and closer to your orgasm, you locked eyes with Eddie. Instinctly Eddie removed his sloppy wet cock from your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath for a second.

Watching Eddie as he turned off the vibrator, your body shuddering from lack of stimulation. Whimpering loudly as you shook in protest, your clit needing attention.

“Please turn it back on Eddie, I was so close to cumming” you whined desperately, shaking yourself against the bed.

“No, what did I say?” He was stern with his eyebrows knitted together.

“Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good” you pathetically repeated his words from earlier, your clit throbbing as you thrusted in the air for any bit of friction.

“Yes I’m right” he shuddered as he resumed stroking his cock over your body.

Moaning into the room as he stared at your naked body in front of you, biting his lip as you still shook against the bed. Loving you at your most desperate peak, his cock twitched around his hand.

Edging closer and closer to his own orgasm at the sight of you, the fact you needed him.

Walking closer to you, he placed his legs either side of yours and met your clit with his tip. Rubbing them together as you moaned loudly into the room, finally getting the friction you wanted.

Your pussy was dripping from the vibrator but as he grinded his tip against your clit, your eyes heavily rolled back as you felt yourself edging closer to your orgasm.

Eddie grunted as his cock twitched in his hand, his sensitive tip was edging himself as close as you to his orgasm.

“Fuck, your clit feels so good. I bet you like this don’t you? My dirty slut?” He panted heavily as his hips thrusted heavily.

“Yes Ed’s, your dirty slut” you panted with him, your clit twitching against his tip.

Moaning loudly as Eddie’s cock spurted hot silky cum onto your clit, rubbing it as it dripped down your pussy and onto your thighs. Grunting as he continued to move against you until you gasped loudly, your body shaking as you finally felt yourself cum.

Squirting hard against his tip, coating yourself, the bed and his cock with your cum as you shook from the finally release.

Sweet glistened mixed with sweat as you caught your breath, Eddie grinned as he scooped up some of the cum mixture between his fingers and shoved it down your throat.

Forcing you to suck the cum off his fingers, grinning he replaced it with his lips. Leaving you tied up, he leant forward and whispered into your ear.

“That’s what you get for flirting with your ex boyfriend in front of me”

[bera-post-things]

Yandere Ayato X Reader

Art credit: to Rose in Pinterest

Prompt: Washing up on inazuman shores in the wreckage of your illegally traveling ship, with none of your crewmates to be found, felt like a completely hopeless situation. With a travel ban and a vision hunt decree on, it was looking bleak, though things started to pick up when through the local fixer, you managed to get a job working under the kamisato estate. Life felt like it was picking up, working odd jobs under Kamisato Ayato's order, until when cleaning Ayato’s desk, you found a neatly stacked pile of letters, wrapped gently in twine, you quickly brushed them away, so as to not pry. But you couldn't help but notice your family's address, written in your own handwriting… on decorative envelopes you were sure you had sent your family the week prior.

I hope this does well and you like it please leave. Alike if you somewhat enjoy it that would be much appreciated I hope that you at least find this trash writting entertaining

Published: Sept,15,2022 Edited: September,15,2022

All credits go to of course @obsessed-with-obsessive for their prompt go check them out,

-@-@-@-@@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@-@

It was a stormy night well yiu guessed it was night the clouds were dark everything in the sky was dark the ship was barely alfloat there was punctured holes in the ship waters on the deck flooded the bottom of the boat everything was looking dark none of your crew mates body’s whom you travelers with for three days where found they where proably washed over board into the ocean it just made you feel even more hopeless they had family at home what would you say to their childern you thought that is if you even get to shore that it you cotinued to look ahead at the ravage sea there where giant waves crashing into the side of the ship you could feel the impact go through the ship as you almost fell almost steering the ship trying to balance it, there you saw land and a port where you could finally park your damaged Ship at as yiu did your best to park at the small little harbor there was people running up to your ship seeing how badly the ship was damaged they immediately toke you of the ship that looked like it could collapse any second now as you got of the ship walking on the wooden docks of the harbor you walked up along the stone streets up to a stand with a woman at it you assumed she was the one taking care of things…

“Uh Hello!” You greeeted as the woman just stared at you finally before saying “there is to be no tarvel or trade going ti inazuma at this time I advise you to get back to shore before I call the guards and get you off this island by force or not” the lady said bluntly as yiu gasped but! I just got here and yiu saw my ship! How can I possibly get back!” You yelled at the woman as she just stared at you “I understand what your saying sir but I can’t let you get past this point” she said as you still cotinued to argue with her before catching the attention of a certain Blue haired man interested her told his servant Thoma to go check things out “hey Thoma go check out what’s going over there would you?” He asked drinking his boba tea ”why yes young master!” He said as he walked over to you hearing what’s going on he said to the woman “whoa what’s going on here? Here I can pay for their stay on Inazuma he said before dropping a pouch of mora on the woman’s desk making a loud bang at the drop causing you to widen your eyes at how much money that was not even allowing the woman to talk he started walking away dragging you with him walking over to Ayato “well why not let us introduce ourselves why don’t we master Ayato?”

The blonde boy said as the tall young man nodded at him “hm yes I am Kamisato Ayato and here is my servant Thoma who you just met a few moments prior” he said as yiu stood tehre shocked yiu where just being forced to leave the island and being threatened to be kicked off a second time and now someone who introduced himself as the “fixer” came in and saved you and now your meeting the head of a powerful clan that rules over inazuma? You stood there shocked as Ayato just laughed “ I think she’s quite confused might giving her a little tour for me?” He said before handing him a small note and a card? As the “fixer” quickly scanned the note quickly nodding at him smiling “well you heard the master lets go we better not keep him waiting!” He said as he walked away with yiu just standing there by the tree confused before quickly following him…

he introduced you to many stuff in inazuma the amazing stalls and the police station and the staute of the Ominipressent god by the end of the tour he handed you a business card and a sheet of paper saying, “the young master must favor you choose wisely” he said just leaving it at that before walking off before leaving a bag full of mora in your hands as you put the pouch of mora in your hands you opened the pouch there was so much mora as your eyes widned as you closed the pouch and looked at the card it was a business card with the name of the man you met a few hours prior Kamisato Ayato… then you looked at the paper it said “looking for employment as a maid working at Kamisato estate as you looked at the pay your eyes widening it was 50 mora per hour! That could provide for your needs for a week!” You thought as you decided taht you would go to Kamisato estate and accept the job and the new opportunity that was in front you after buy in Pog some new clothes of course…

Torrmorrow morning you would head to Kamisato estate after getting some decent clothes from a clothe stand you started walking up the steps of the Kamisato estate there was Ayato and Thoma it’s like they where expecting you to come they where patiently waiting for your arrival before seeing you”oh Y/N over here I knew that you would arrive!” He said as Ayato just said greetings to you. L well Y/N it seems like your here for the interview am I right?” He said as you nodded as he smirked”good good” he said as he swirled the boba tea spin his hand “well your hired your shift starts today your uniform is in the room over there go on and get dressed” he said as your eyes widened that was it? No requirements or questions background check or anything? You thought to yourself “well go on get yourself dressed I’ll wait here and wait for you to give you your first task” he said as you walked off into the room that he was pointing at… as you entered the room there was a maid dress laid neatly folded on a table as you took it an unraveled it was a normal maid dress just with a little bit more space in the front but you didn’t question it people as nice as these couldn’t have some bad intentions after all who would pay that much mora to someone and just tell them to just clean and sweep a house? You thought as yiu put on the maid uniform and walked out…

The uniform to say it was tight was a understatement you could barely bend down with out your underwear peaking out or completely showing it felt like the dress was pressing to your figure like a tightly wrapped present because it sure felt like it as you slowly walked out the room onto the porch walking awkwardly in your new clothes you where also wearing stockings and some shoes as yiu stepped onto the nicely paved stone path tehre was Ayato and Thoma waiting with a sweet smile on his face as Ayato faced you handing yiu a clip board with a long list of rules taht you must follow “here Y/N read these first then I can properly give you your first task and I’ll get Thoma led you around here since he’s the one who knows best around here” he said as he handed you the clip board with the contract as you scanned through the rules skipping over a couple you quickly signed your name at the bottom handing it to him “okay we’ll Thoma would you do the honors?” He said as Thoma nodded signaling yiu to follow him as yiu walked behind him uncomfortably in your tight dress…

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve been working at the Kamisato estate and despite the weird jobs taht you had to do everything was looking up for you tehre was finally a shine in yiur usually dull life in the past weeks you’ve been feeling homesick lately and wanted to let your family members know that you where still alive and didn’t die on the trip over the sea to inazuma you’ve asked them to send you some photos of Liyue and some of your siblings but whenever you send it to them and put in the mailbox, and you wait for a couple of days and they don’t send back… even when you wait for weeks for a response they’d till dont send back this made you have second thoughts did your family not want you anymore did they really think your dead? No no surely not and when every yiu being this up to Ayato he always just says “Oh tahts quite unfortunate I wonder what happened to the message hey can you bend down a grab that stack of papers for me?” And whe; yiu go to Thoma he just says the same thing just in a different way “I’m sorry about that Y/N! Mabye if you try again you’ll achieve it eventually right!” He would say so brightly at you but it wouldn’t help when you where tasked to clean Master Ayatos room by Thoma cause he won’t be able to clean it himself this afternoon and when you went to clean his desk yiu saw a stack of folded up paper tied up in a neat thin red ribbon tightly notted interested you looked at the papers there yiu saw was your hand writting? You could instantly tell it was your hand writing and your signature?, this looks to be a lettter taht was meant to be sent to your mother just a week prior… what is this doing here? You thought as yiu picked up the thick sheet of folded up paper you looked at it confused before yiu heard the door swing open ether was Ayato walking in looking down at you guessed it another of your letters who yiu ahve put in the mailbox just a few days ago… a she looked up his eyes widening in suprise “what are you doing here Y/N I thought it was Thoma to clean today?” He said as you looked at him stoill holding the thick stack of folded paper in your hands as his eyes landed on the sheet of papers in your hand “ahh so you found out I see…” he said as he stood there his face darkened despite the bright sunlight beaming on the side of his face as you slowly backed away into his desk as he walked up to yiu as yiu started talking “lord Ayato what are you doing with the letters that I sent to my mother a few days prior?” You said looking up at him with a terrified look on your face “well I’m not going to allow you to destroy your own life am I?” He said as yiu looked at him truly shocked not expecting this response “wha- wha-“ you started to say not being able to finsih your sentence before he interrupted you “I’ve gave you a new life for yourself Cant you see the reason why you’d living so lavishly right now is because of me right?” He said as you could only nod “see without me yiu would be back to your poor self just stay with me and you’ll keep this life style” he said as the thoughts of your previous life if you parents truly thought you where dead than how could you try it go back to your old life? “So stay here with me ok?” he said as you nodded as you sat down on a chair you felt like you couldn’t breathe your tight maid outfit didn’t help ethier it felt like it was futher more constricting your breathing espically With Ayato in the room made everything feel dizzy… as fell over your head pounding laying on the ground Ayato looked down at you picking you up “let this be the start of our new life together and forgot about all your past and worries and just let me take care of them he said closing yiur eyes

Of you got here thank you! If yiu would leave heart that would be much appreciated I gotta go to sleep bye!

[litrituals]

Tea Tokes from @ Lit Rituals

Follow us to learn more about each blend. . .

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[teatokes]

Smoking blue lotus can unlock a range of benefits for both the mind and body. It is known for its potential to induce a sense of calm and relaxation, easing stress and promoting a peaceful state of being. Additionally, the blue lotus is believed to enhance mood, improve focus, and support overall well-being, making it a popular choice among those seeking a gentle and therapeutic smoke.

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[freakingoutthesquares]

‘Freak Out...’ is laugh out loud funny, because, of course, pre-fame Pulp devised a stage set of toilet paper and tin foil only for it to crumble around them, of course they set fire to a prized palm tree in Toulouse with a misfired firework, and the highlight of their first ever Top Of The Pops performance was, of course, eating Mariah Carey’s biscuits.

Louder Than War Magazine, Issue 2, Winter 2015.

With the release of biography ‘Freak Out The Squares’, PULP man Russell Senior remains fiercely proud of the accomplishments of Sheffield’s finest. Louise Brown talks to a uniquely British man about a uniquely British band.

THE rock biography; that tome of scintillating scandal and sordid excess, where musicians can retire disgracefully airing all of their worst behaviours alongside shocking barbs against colleagues, rivals and the waifs and strays they met along their path of rock and roll hedonism. We, mere mortals, lap them up, each page depicting the charmed lives of music’s most notorious characters.

‘Freak Out The Squares: Life In A Band Called Pulp’, by Pulp guitarist, violinist and self-confessed “grownup of the group’, Russell Senior, is the latest in rock memoir overload, and we settle in for a wild ride of mis-shapes, mistakes and misfits. In fact, what we get is a lot of tea, games of chess and mild-mannered facts about minerals. Did you know that if you add iodine to an axolotl it turns into a newt?

But Pulp were a different class, weren’t they? They did not have the cockney cheek of Blur, not the brash Mancunian swagger of Oasis, they were the psychedelic avant garde art experiment, who had tried for a decade to claw themselves out of Sheffield’s agitprop pop scene, who found themselves in the right place, at the right time and stumbled upon the holy grail of indie gold with era defining anthems ‘Common People’ and ‘Disco 2000’.

Sardonic and as well-presented as Jarvis Cocker in one his jumble sale suits, ‘Freak Out...’ is ‘The Royle Family’ of rock biogs, in that nothing actually happens but it is in the ennui and the unglamorous truthfulness that the writer’s Midas touch is revealed.

‘Freak Out...’ is laugh out loud funny, because, of course, pre-fame Pulp devised a stage set of toilet paper and tin foil only for it to crumble around them, of course they set fire to a prized palm tree in Toulouse with a misfired firework, and the highlight of their first ever Top Of The Pops performance was, of course, eating Mariah Carey’s biscuits.

This is not sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll, more atypical British fumbling of the bra-straps, white-outs after one toke of Black Grape’s joint and playing so out of tune it actually made the band the unique freaks we came to love.

But if it’s not going to a be a tell-all page-turner of bolshy Britpop bragging, then why write it at all? “I kind of felt I ought to write it,” says Russell, his Yorkshire twang ever-giving him a tone of sarcasm and weariness. Speaking shortly before his appearance at Manchester’s Louder Than Words festival (Louderthanwordsfest.com).

“Astronauts, they seem very inarticulate. They’ve been to the moon, but they can’t say anything about it, so I thought, well, I can be loquacious hopefully, and as an eye-witness, I thought I should do it, especially since there were some programmes on Britpop a few years back and they seemed really lame. They didn’t get to the heart of it. I want to try and put people in that dislocated world, the duty of the witness really.”

Britpop, what actually was it? From the turn of the 1990s until the chimes of the new Millennium were rung in, it seemed like the British pop music, and art, worlds, for that matter, were The Zeitgeist. Tracey Emin was making headlines with unmade beds, Damien Hirst was pickling bovine and bands like Blur, Oasis and Pulp, who couldn’t sound more unlike one other if they tried, were as iconic as Ginger Spice in a Union Jack frock.

“It’s not a genre, is it?” Russell ponders. “It’s not like reggae, it’s not a sound. Saint Etienne were deconstructing dance and yet they were Britpop. It was a group of outsiders from different angles, having a go at making pop music that was vaguely credible. It was a rejection of the world that was around us at the time, but the rejection took different forms. It’s not a musical form, really. You can’t teach it. It’s a funny one, isn’t it? You look back and think, well, what was it? Because it didn’t seem like anything coherent at the time, certainly not artistically.”

“Great guitarists like Bernard Butler and Richard Hawley don’t intimidate me because we all do a different thing. They may be able to play ‘All Along The Watchtower’ better than Hendrix but they can’t do spare and spiky and proddy as well as me.”

One of the motifs throughout the book is just how bad Pulp were as musicians. It starts with Russell reviewing Jarvis’ band for his fanzine and referring to the songs as “dirges” but “the appearance of the frontman is entertaining”, however the two became friends and Russell joined Pulp not to bring any musical splendour to the act, in fact, it led the group down an even more outré and unconventional rabbit hole. This self-deprecation almost does as a disservice to the group that ten years later would give the British musical canon pop gold like ‘Something Changed’.

“We learned,” Russell laughs when challenged. “But one of the good things about not having the musical theory, is that you do things that are, technically speaking, out of tune. I think it frees things up. I avoided learning, I was of that mindset. I wanted to find something around another corner, so there’s an almost wilful determination to retain a naivety in a way. We were anti-muso.

We had proper, in inverted commas, musicians audition for us and we just didn’t want them because we wanted somebody that was enfant savage. It sounds a bit ridiculous now, and yeah, we did get to learn about chords as time went on, so it’s strange in a way because, in the end, Pulp craft the perfect pop song, they don’t make a random extreme noise terror, but that was the roots of it. It ended up as pop music, almost by accident really.”

The band did set out to be a pop band though, Russell makes no claim to the other throughout the first half of the book, which shows a warts-and-all side to Pulp before the Britpop boom. They didn’t shy away from the spotlight, “Or want to be an underground, sell-no-records, indie purity thing,” Russell confirms.

“With the C86 movement, they seemed to take succour from how few records they’d sold, like that was a mark of integrity. We thought that was guff and saw not selling records as failure, so I think, in a way, we stood out from the crowd, in that ‘we are going to entertain and we are going to sell records’. It was not very cool at the time.”

“Outside the Cambridge Corn Exchange a young man approached me. There was something funny about him, then he attempted to pass me a wrap of drugs. I refused and then noticed a cameraman with a long lens taking photographs. This was a set-up, imagine the consequences if I’d taken the wrap. That bastard was prepared to ruin my life for a made-up story.”

The price of fame is high, though, and Russell is candid in his dissection of it. “It’s safe to say [that I hate fame]. It was a downer, there was a certain purity and innocence to the Britpop thing, despite all the excess. It seemed a bit of a charmed life really, and then you hit reality of things and you’re cynical. I had a happy view of it and I liked our fans, and it didn’t seem like this cynical rock world to me, it seemed like something light and fluffy.

I don’t know if I’ve stressed it enough in the book but we were very much ‘of’ our fans. We were jumble sale kids. People would look at you funny in the street, and then you were in the sanctity of the concert where there were other strange people, so there was this secret little club of outsiders, and it was a nice thing.”

Of all the Britpop bands, Pulp seemed the most approachable, the most down-to-earth, the most likely to invite you in for a cuppa if you were camped outside their house in December waiting for an autograph. “It’s true,” laughs Russell, as I tell him a story of a friend for whom that happened to.

“And on the whole, I have had my differences with the members of the band, but basically they’re all fairly decent. I wouldn’t say we were prudes but I suppose we were a bit, in that Yorkshire way. We were well-brought up and had decent manners, and no we didn’t hold with bad behaviour at all.”

Laughing about some of the unpretentious, no-nonsense Yorkshire-ness of ‘Freak Out The Squares’, we promise Russell that we won’t paint him completely as rock ‘n’ roll’s least likely, or as a thoroughly decent bloke too much, a real model of the common people. “If it’s true to say it,” he laughs.

“All that Northern stuff, there’s two strands to Sheffield. One is the by-heck whimsy and they get terribly excited about cooling towers getting knocked down. I can’t be doing with that professional Northern-ness, but there’s always a form of Sheffieldness that’s this Dadaist intense thing and I guess I cleave to the latter persuasion really. I don’t really do Northern whimsy.

This is an unusual interview in a way because most people are trying to get me to dish more dirt and I’m like, ‘I haven’t got any more’.

It’s honest in that it does own up to the fact that there wasn’t much in the way of groupies.”

“When we got on the bus, the back room had a general air of a Western saloon – cigarettes, whiskey and wild, wild women. The tour manager interrupted the reverie with the unfortunate phrase: ‘Excuse me ladies, we’ve got to shoot off now’. Everyone was a winner. The girls could hold their heads up high, and no one had to shag in the toilet looking at the ‘No Solids’ sign and wake up feeling like yesterday’s fish and chips.”

“The chronicle of Pulp, the true and honest chronicle of Pulp would take up a shelf of books,” Russell sighs when we do ask him if he was perhaps too polite and left out some of the more outlandish tales from the road. “If you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all.

There could’ve been lots of moaning about this, that and the other but it would all be rather trivial. There would be no major revelations, so even if I had the inclination to write a kiss-and-tell, put-the-boot-in book I’d have been really thin on material for it. I’m actually being quite frank, and in a way, brave, in admitting that it’s not always that exciting and if you win the ‘hang out with Pulp for the day’ prize you’d probably choose not to do it again."

“People want Pulp to live in the Monkees house and all be great mates and I don’t have to put the dagger, because people’s view of Pulp is quite a benign one. I can’t remember the last time anyone said anything unkind to me about it, it’s awfully fluffy all of this and I feel a little bit guilty that there’s not more bite but the truth is that people have a lot of affection for Pulp and I’ve no desire to change that.”

The book starts with Russell carefully considering Jarvis’ invitation to reunite the old gang for a one-off Glastonbury performance, flits back to when he first saw Jarvis “murder” (his words) ‘Wild Thing’ by The Troggs while his bass player fell off the stage, follows his acceptance into the Pulp fold and acts as a witty diary of the band’s 2011 comeback and mid-’90s highs.

It allows us a bird’s eye view of Britpop in ascendance – from its biggest stories (Pulp unwittingly to blame for pitting Blur and Oasis against each other with scurrilous gossip about who said what about Justine Frischmann) and wildest excesses (Russell lays claim to being responsible for Britpop folly Menswear, who signed to Island for a ludicrous fee and actually weren’t very good at all) but while he seemed, on the face of it all, to have had a jolly good time, the reunion was a one-off for him, despite protestation from both band and fans.

“Well, phone calls have come, quite a number of times, and things didn’t entirely wind down when it was supposed to, and so I can say that [I’m done] with reasonable degrees of certainty, because there were things that I’ve not done, like playing The Royal Albert Hall and so I’ve resisted those, but I’m very romantic about Pulp,” he admits, when pushed to see if he would tread the boards just one more time and had this book maybe triggered a little bit of wanderlust in him.

“Not everything in my life is as pure as that, but that’s one thing I like to keep it pure. I don’t wish to reduce it by cashing in on it, although you could say I’m doing that with this book. I could’ve tried to pump up the controversy, and I would have sold more copies but I’m quite romantic about it, and protective about the legacy.”

Now a full-time writer he admits that “I got my violin down so I could play it but I’ve not, it’s got dust on it. We weren’t musicians, I really don’t feel like I was. I don’t know how to play any other songs all the way through apart from Pulp songs, and I don’t sit around playing the guitar. What’s next? Writing! A geology-themed mystery romance, a book on the life of Edwin of Northumbria, and another one on foraging. Eclectic and uneconomic! Choose the things that are least likely to sell and do that, that’s what I’m doing.”

Of course he is, of course the foppish, besuited outsider from Britpop’s most bizarre and stubbornly contrary and peculiar band has swapped the riches and adulation of pop music for writing books about mushrooms and ancient kings. What else would he do? Like we said, Pulp and Russell Senior were of a different class, and we wouldn’t change them for the world.

‘Freak Out The Squares: Life In A Band Called Pulp’ is available now from Aurum Press Ltd

Transcription by me.

[wpdariacutnes]

☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓

Someone: knows a boisvert?

Me: knows a canda off bit a enifing cherater expleing planets a self story and rule

But

Fell a get dys guy a more nextgen saider'less? I get say next side but yeah get point enifing do

🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭

"canda more look put side a nitchmer time but more a out cold rezans knows no pint no filing get a born a nofing so knows dys plase is same a out lap out a enifing glow finks a truse me"

Argel: * go out a shop a buy a rame staws more japan spagety in tea cup a say dys type food* enifing hell knows a toking be for me get *bit giggle* born a nofing poor it

Main: * canda rezan a white deer a frenldy monster code more name a Juliette? I hirding say Juliette and get agender after dys and canda look a woking away whatever look more get spooky a sowing be late a home sowing*

Argel: she left and rezan a lost sowing? *look self a sowing a lot see a get rame tea cup'less and out a soda box or sowing a look drinks after lot aram a car woking a rown a her code because voice is better and shy sowing*

"canda look a code main or Juliette wedding a bus stop a not enifing coll out more a knows a woking radom dys type time a out side and knows a looking chader but never more heppend more a not take omost car but canda cut a take a taxi car a argel and only neber a wake up canda only more wake a total 4 am or omost close a 5 am but not filing missing more introsting"

☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓

Argel: home sweet on home * knows a be alone but not been diface and knows is he home a not finish a be sowing more look a knows is old like destory or sowing because lot staws rame cup in a plase a home rown*

🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭🐧🎭

Argel: *more look a tv nofing new heppend but like classic clicking game a do sowing*

Offical note: 29.08.2023.r

☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓☕⛓

[hanisdaisys]

TEAM PROJECT ( PART TWO)

Pairing: Student!Jay X NB Student!reader

————————————————————————

It was now the day after the class was announced. You felt embarrassed and weird about being teamed up with jay. The thought of you insulting the schools precious angel and him hearing it?? You were surprised his fan girls didn’t jump you get. You walked to class wondering if you should stop by a cafe or the connivence store hoping to buy his happiness with a macaron. Lucky you found a cafe having a new flavour line “HONEY COMB DREAM” which was basically a set of honey milk tea and a honey filled donut.. you quickly bought the set and walked to class hoping to not be late.

But who are we kidding, you are Y/N L/N, always 30 minutes early to any of your classes (except math because you did not enjoy it as much as your other classes). You walked into the class, the teacher quickly stopping you before you sit down in your usual seat. “I made a seating plan Y/N, everyone will be seating with their partner so that you can get to know each other more. I sat you at the front with Jay since I know how much you like being at the front. It should also be a change to see Jay being any where else but the back!” He said cheerfully. You smiled and thanked him while you walked to your assigned seat. Front row, middle. Damn… maybe Jay will hate you after this…

You looked at your phone, waiting as students, one by one, started filling the class. Each and everyone shocked about the sudden seating plan. Suddenly you see him from the corner of your eyes, Park Jongseong, walking in with a brand new guitar. He gasped seeing the seating plan, immediately groaning sitting next to you. Well damn that hurted, you couldn’t believe Jay groaned at the fact at being next to you. You toke out the set and handed it to him.

“Hey again I’m really sorry for yesterday, i hope you like honey…” you said passing him the drink and the donut. He observed it at first before saying “Thanks Y/N, but you really don’t need too. It’s fine, I know you didn’t mean it.” He said drinking the drink, you looked at him expectedly hoping he’d say something about the drink…. “ Oh, honey is my favorite by the way, Thanks… I have some gum if you want?” He said while you shock your head, maybe he wasn’t that miserable. He’s actually quite nice if you say so.

The class continued until the teacher gave you free time to start your project. You really did not want to do this first thing in the morning, but judging Jays lack of interest in this class, you had no choice but to work hard. “So Umh should we get started ?” You asked him handing him the outline of what you worked on. “ Wait I didn’t know we had to do an outline ???” He said scanning the papers you had handed him. “ we didn’t need too… I just wanted to get my thoughts organized so this could be easier for us, I hope that’s okay with you” you said giving him a smile.

“Yeah that’s fine with me, I’m still coming over tonight right?” He said looking at the back of the class and sending sunghoon a wink. Weird.

PREVIOUS ❤️ NEXT

[yuurivoice]

I HAVE TO PROVE A FRIEND WRONG IM PROBABLY GONNA BE WRONG THO

hi, yuurivoice i have a question that sounds kind of dumb but Finn seems like the kind of person to smoke weed for anxiety so i gotta know if that might be true, probably not but still worth asking

He might, idk? I think his first bet would be try out different tea brews. He also probably doesn't have lungs built for big tokes, so I think he'd be more keen on edibles.

But magical boy Finn chilling with a fancy hookah or something feels right, but that's not necessarily "for anxiety".

There was also once upon a time going to be a Weed Dispensary Worker Finn audio on 4/20 as a goof, so it's not unreasonable. lol

[sourbat]

In Sickness

Two hammertooth snippets, one for Magnus and one for Toki. What goes on when the other is sick. 

Rating: T

Magnus Even with an improvement to his diet, regular exercise and an unbelievable health plan supported and maintained by Dethklok Incorporated, sickness still proved a semi-regular thing with Magnus. It didn’t hit as hard as it used to, back when they were still figuring things out between them, but it was always enough to render him near immobile, and Toki at his most attentive. He summoned his mother’s old recipes and made hearty stews and strong, but bitter teas and medicinal properties, and making sure only to substitute what absolutely couldn’t be found so easily at the stores. 

“What’s that smell?”

Magnus sounded grouchy. He normally was when he was sick, and pushed and verbally fought to keep Toki at bay. Complained it was an issue of contagions. He also complained about the migraines, the snot and inability to properly swallow. He complained about a lot of things. 

With a smile, Toki crept into the bedroom. In his hands was a small bowl of eucalyptus and mint. “Balm,” he answered, and combated Magnus’ thin, grim line of a scowl with a raised, albeit cheeky, grin. It will opens your chest up and makes breathing easier.” 

Magnus apparently didn't find the answer suitable enough, and groaned before returning to his makeshift blanket cave. 

Toki knelt over the bed. With a free hand, he raised a blanket just high enough for him to make out Magnus dressed in the same sweatshirt he had donned the past few days and nothing else.  He was coiled miserably, embracing his thin body and expelling audible, strained wheezes. 

Magnus frowned at him. “That shit looks gross, Toke.” 

Toki found this latest complaint weirdly cute. He thought Magnus, stricken ill and completely dependent on him, was unusually preferable. Was it bad? Toki himself wasn't too sure, and although a small part of him desired to ask Magnus about the issue, he determined it better to keep his mouth shut and enjoy the ticklish sensation that erupted from within each time Magnus beckoned him for water, for help getting to the restroom, or just for him to be bear so they could chat. 

“It isn’t that bads.” Toki gave the bowl a playful wave before he was suddenly hit with the intense scent of freshly mashed herbs and greens. He wrinkled his nose, fighting off the strong scent. From below, Magnus raised a doubtful brow. “Ok, so it smells strongs,” Toki promptly corrected, and after a heartfelt chuckle, added, “But, it works real goods!” 

Magnus retreated further into the blankets. “I really don't want that on me.” 

It was always hard not to laugh. Toki didn't think there was anything overtly funny about being sick, but Magnus so riled over a simple rub couldn't help but muster another snicker. Magnus, despite his rules and insistence to rest and be left alone, wasn’t too different from a fickle, stubborn child afraid to take his medicine. Toki recalled some distant, far off instances where he tried to flee his mother’s caring hand because he didn't like the taste of bitter roots and spices. 

Still smiling, Toki sat beside Magnus. He combed his fingers through his knotted curls and said,  “Just does the old saying? Clothes your eyes and thinks of Ireland?” 

“Ugh.” He watched Magnus attempt to roll his eyes, only to wince midway and shut them tight. He groaned. “My head is killing me.”

Toki lowered and carefully pecked his lips against Magnus’ forehead. “I knows,” he said gently,  so as to not worsen the pain. “Come on. Takes off your sweatshirt.” 

It took a few minutes to get Magnus into a sitting position, another minute of him grumbling getting the sweatshirt off. He made faces as Toki grabbed a liberal glob of chest balm, and bit down a swear when the cool medicine spread across his back. He was hot to the touch. The next few days would be touch-and-go. As much as Toki wanted to bring in the board games, movies and music, he knew Magnus was better off resting. If he did, he’d wake up on dafy three, maybe four, and would be back to his usual self. Not as grumpy or dependent, but in a better mood and willing to go out and have fun. 

Toki mused on the thought. It would be nice to go skating again. 

“Think you can find it in your heart to grab me a drink?” 

The question came from below. Toki paused, dipping his middle and forefinger into the bowl and then stared at Magnus’ slowly expanding back. It was a pointless question and Magnus knew it. Given their shared health concerns and addictive personalities, alcohol was a rare treat, and Toki didn’t think it was a good idea to give Magnus a can of beer or shot of whiskey when he was supposed to stay hydrated. What good would drinking do? Magnus could barely breathe; booze would only make things worse. 

Just then, Magnus straightened himself, though only momentarily. Toki watched the curvature of his spin correct itself, and long wavy locks draped down his freshly rubbed back. Some stuck to his skin, and right as Toki reached to brush some away, Magnus slowly threw his head back. A set of eyes and a leaky nose were pointed at him. A slightly chapped pair of lips patiently waited for a response.  

And Magnus was frowning again. This time, a pitiful expression begging for a reprieve. And who could blame him? It sucked to be sick. To feel weak. But alcohol this early in the day, and while he was still so congested? More hair fell as Magnus leaned his sluggish being against Toki. Oh, but could he say no to that face?  The frown shifted into a slight pout, and the little creased that littered his forehead deepened. Despite his height and frame, at that moment he appeared so small, so helpless. 

And then he sniffled. That wet, noisy inhale Toki broke. 

“Hmm.” Toki pressed a clean finger against his chin as more of Magnus’ weight sank on top of him. Toki  faced two mismatched pupils and replied gently,  “Thinks you can flips over and let me rub your chest first?” 

Toki

Unlike Magnus who appreciated the rest and tender loving affection that came along with being ill, Toki preferred to maintain some semblance of normalcy, rejecting the bed and humidifier in favor of dragging his sorry self behind Magnus and insisting he was fine and could help with cooking, cleaning and other daily activities. If it wasn’t something as trivial as absolutely needing to vacuum, it was Toki begging Magnus to play some random video game while he watched or, if things were really bad, Toki selecting some film title Magnus brought up in past conversation in the hopes it would convince him to allow Toki out of the bedroom for a few more hours. These small acts of defiance were at least understandable. Toki thrived on attention, distractions and stimulation, no matter how small. More importantly, Toki didn’t want to be alone. Despite the obvious complaints and concerns, Magnus did his best to keep to the living room, setting aside certain responsibilities so Toki could remain close.

After a few mindless stirs, Magnus turned off the stove and poured a small bowl of canned chicken soup. Nothing fancy, certainly not compared to the stuff Toki concocted when he was bedridden, but it was more than enough to put a smile on Toki’s face. Still, Magnus fished through the cupboards and grabbed an unopened roll of crackers just in case, and as he passed the fridge also debated whether some fruits or chopped veggies would improve the meal. He returned to the disaster that was the living room where Toki lay, barely conscious. Magnus stepped over throw pillows that were tossed in favor of blankets and the softer, plush cushions that once occupied their bed. The screen illuminated massive subtitles that he was sure Toki stopped reading ages ago. 

Toki was caught under a loose mound of blankets, resting on his stomach and embracing his worn stuffed bear. Though his eyes were open, they possessed a gloss that suggested he was long gone. Still, Magnus approached with his usual gait, letting his flip flops hit the hardwood flooring until he reached the crowded sofa. 

He gave Toki a light nudge. “You still awake?” 

Magnus watched Toki’s form squirm lazily under the blankets. With an elongated stretch, he released the mildest of yawns. Barely audible, were it not for the hoarse wetness that cracked out his sore throat. 

Magnus took his seat before offering the soup. “Come. Eat.” 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem, bud.” 

After a day of merely observing and offering the slightest remarks, Toki was exhausted. Whatever he had was doing its best to make him absolutely miserable. Magnus combed through long, greasy strands of chestnut brown hair as Toki crawled closer, his moist grip weakened and hardly registering with Magnus’s leg. With some help, Magnus had Toki resting on his lap, and with some coaxing he managed to convince his boyfriend to accept being spoon fed by him. 

He heard Toki sniff after a rough swallow. “What’s happening?” 

A small rise of the blankets pointed towards the screen. Magnus stared at the scene ahead, unsure himself what was currently happening. 

“Hell if I know. I was making your lunch,” he muttered, then stirred the half-consumed bowl. He glanced at the subtitles. “Let’s see…” 

Narration served to bore and tire Toki. Warm food to fill and push him closer to the darkness. And when that was done, Magnus’ combed through Toki’s hair. Gentle pets that ignored the collecting oil and off-putting body heat, and so purposely designed to break down whatever fortitude that remained and lull him into a slumber. Magnus split his attention between whatever was on screen, and Toki’s fluttering lids and labored, but steady breathing. Really, Magnus enjoyed the process. Were it not for the threat of catching the sickness and Toki’s complaints of being babied and coddled, he’d do it more often. 

“What’s going on nows?” Toki’s scratchy voice asked after a few minutes of silence. 

Magnus ceased his affection to catch Toki looking up at him. “We’ll, she’s realizing she can’t stay in the country anymore…” 

He liked hearing his own voice, liked explaining plots and characters while Toki’s weight and warmth sank on top of him. He didn’t mind the sound of wet coughs, reaching and grabbing a box of tissues to help Toki catch whatever mucus was leaking from some orifice.  Because it was nice when Toki had to rely on him. It was better to make more memories of that, and of himself mending and healing instead of lashing out and destroying whatever was in his wake. Even now, after all these years, Magnus looked forward to another instance of him doing good to one day substitute and remove (a man could dream, couldn't he) those awful hauntings that still overtook his consciousness on occasion. Those instances were increasingly rare, but when they hit–

A loud cough erupted, drowning out the french with a hoarse, scratchy sound that nearly caused Magnus to jump. He dropped his gaze to Toki below, the source of such awful retching and now jerking as he recoiled from the intense pain now collecting in his throat and head. Knowing this, Magnus quickly reached for a handful of tissues. Once Toki was finished he handed them over, looking away and not minding when he felt a warm wad of tissues being returned. 

He waited a few more seconds before asking, “You ok?” 

“My head hurts,” Toki answered with a sad whimper. 

“Oh.” Magnus expelled a soft, sad little noise before lifting his hands away from Toki’s pulsing temples. 

“Don’s stop.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Pettings.” Two pale blue eyes peered up at him. “Please.” 

Smiling, Magnus replied, “I won’t,” and returned to stroking Toki’s crown, slowing when he reached the sides and applying gentle pressure to distract, re-navigate and ease. A few minutes later, Toki's breathing returned to a slow pace. Still noticeable, but the whines emitted soothed into something tolerable, and soon Magnus felt (and heard) Toki’s Deady bear slip from his grip. It fell to the floor, neglected and forgotten, but Magnus made no attempt to rescue it as Toki’s arms slowly rooted themselves to him. 

His legs made the worst pillows. Magnus knew this, but when he dropped his stare to see Toki’s eyes flutter and start to sink, he could only bite down the pained smile that still managed to rise from ear to ear, and continued drawing out long, loving pets until he was confident Toki’s eyes would remain closed. 

When they hit, it made moments like this all the more precious.