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#Don't talk to me or my Aubergine ever again
larsbarsart · 2 years
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I had the idea and I went with it. Am I happy with this? Eh.
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andguesswhat · 7 months
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Just a quickie. Actually for @zuzla33, because she helped me to get sweet dreams. But I don't know if she even wants it 😅
Stay strong!
Of vegetables and fruits
*
Armie was in the vegetable and fruit section at a fine little supermarket in a mall when his cell phone rang.
Timmy.
"Hey babe..."
A deep groan greeted him. "Hhhm, Armie, mmm, please talk dirty to me.... nghh." Okayyyy, Tim was clearly jerking off.
Armie took a second. Looked around. Lots of people around him, the walk to the car too long.
"Armie, hhm, please... I need you... ahh."
Uhm yes, but really not right now.
"I miss you Armie..." Another groan on the other side of the line, begging and desperate.
Armie sighed. Okay, okay. He looked around and walked towards the fruit display.
"Uhm... I was thinking about bringing you some peaches.... They look really good, you know.... Really ripe, but firm... and uhm a bit tiny, but very tasty looking, you know.... And um... juicy, soft skin, but really juicy... and I'd really like to.... um take a bite of one right now, you know...."
"Hhm! Yes, Armie... More!"
"Aaaand... oh look, this one has a big.... notch... I can slide my thumb over it..."
"Ah!"
"Well, I really wish I wasn't standing in a supermarket right now, but ... um... somewhere else ... so I could ... could put my mouth on it ... And uhm" Armie turned a little, whispered, "... and could lick it."
"Yes, Armie! More..."
More, more… okay...
"I want your dick, Armie."
That, too. Okay… Armie continued to look around. This was getting a little stressful here.
Okay, okay... zucchinis, carrots, there.
He walked toward the vegetable display.
"Oh yeah, that's right, I was supposed to bring aubergines. Oh, those aubergines look good. So plump and big and so ready...to...um put them in the ...um oven?" Oh man, this was ridiculous. Armie shook his head with a laugh.
"Yes, Armie, fuck me with your big aubergine! God, I'm so close..."
But apparently not quite there yet. Armie looked around again. And went back to the fruit display.
"I thought I’d bring some bananas, too. Wow, they're almost as big as the eggplants. They really look incredibly delicious. Did I ever tell you what I did with one of those really uhm... ripe bananas?"
"God, Armie, I'm so close!" Timmy's moans grew louder and louder, and Armie was beginning to worry that the whole supermarket was listening in.
"Okay, so I took the peeled banana and squeezed it, really hard, so that the thick. juicy. juice. just squirted into my mouth..."
"Aaaaah-"
The call was disconnected.
Hmm.
Armie looked around. None of the people seemed to be staring at him, which was a good sign.
But somehow he was a little lost now.
What was he shopping for again?
Peaches, eggplants, zucchini, was there anything that didn't make him think of Timmy in his hotel room now?
He stood a little indecisive between vegetables and fruit when his cell phone rang again.
"Hey, babe," Timmy chirped contentedly in his ear, "sorry, came on the button... I mean, my finger, not..." Timmy giggled.
Armie smiled. Sleepy, giggly Timmy. He missed him.
He was glad Timmy was feeling a little better. The last few days had been bad, phone calls Timmy wouldn't take, phone calls that left a stale feeling because Armie couldn’t help. Then yesterday they had finally had a good conversation. And today...
"How are you?" asked Timmy.
"Well, I'm standing in the supermarket with a boner, so nothing unusual..."
Timmy laughed again. "I'll make it up to you on the next call! Have you seen my t-shirt today? Death Trip?"
"Tyler pointed it out to me."
"Man, and you are my husband, I can't believe it!"
Armie rolled his eyes but smiled.
"Did you mean me or you by that?" he asked.
"Us both…“ was Timmy’s serious reply. „But we get through this, don't we?"
"Yes." He wished he was with Timmy now. "I'm glad you're better."
"Can't wait to see you."
"I sent you the usual dick pics later."
Timmy laughed. "Or one with the banana."
"Up my ass or...?"
Timmy laughed even harder. "Miss ya and love ya."
"Same, just more."
*
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just-a-random-raccoon · 6 months
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Day 31: Last goodbye
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WOOOHOOOO I did it, not in time, but I did it.
THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR THE ONES WHO STUCK ON THIS WITH ME!!!! SO GOOD. Like really. Thanks.
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YESSSSSS!!!!! IT HAPPENED!!!!!! I DID A DSAFTOBER!!!!! <- (obviously haven't waited a whole year to do one of these since I entered the fandom. What do you mean?)
Now! Time for the last angst of dsaftober and the last time these gays I MEAN- guys will see each other.
Fanfic... under the cut!
Dave never received a happy birthday in his whole life or undead life. Never a gift, a party or a form of affection. He thought he didn't needed it, or better said, thought whatever Henry was giving him was affection and was how a father treated his son.
When he discovered he was just being used it hurt.
It hurt so much, he remembers the heart he never had aching, the brain that wasn't there hurting, his head spinning, the scars craving in his skin, the tears coming out. But, he remembers one thing.
Jack was there.
Jack was almost always there.
He really loved him for that and more, you could say he is also obsessed. But most of all, he remembers talking to him about his birthday. He didn't even have a birthday, he just took the day he met Henry as one, because before all of this. He considered Henry taught him everything, even how to live.
The coincidence it's that it was Halloween but that was better. His birthday was coming soon, and Jack had promised to him to gave him the most amazing first birthday gift on life. And he hoped those words were truth.
...
They already defeated Henry and he took out his magenta tie and stepped on him, he isn't gonna remember that fucker anymore, he doesn't deserve it. Then, everyone thanked Jack. Of course, they couldn't have got here if it wasn't for him.
It was his turn, the time to tell him how much he thanked him, to tell him how much he loved him, how much he wanted to go with him to their eternal rest, how much he helped. "Looks it's just ya' and me Old Sport, and the mutt of course" He said trying to light up the mood, he was about to the start and was nervous about it.
Until Jack cut him off.
He cut him off with the most heartbreaking words he could ever have done so.
"I can't go with you guys, I couldn't dare to tell the others. But I don't have a soul"
And that's where Dave's world stopped worked entirely. "W-what?" He asked confused and the orange man explained everything, how he did a promise and he doesn't have a soul. How he couldn't go.
How there was a happy ending for everyone except him.
He couldn't put himself back together, but he did with others.
"But, why? I won't go, I can't go, I can't loose you. You're the tangerine to my aubergine! The clementine to my auber-gine! I'm not strong enough to go alone, not again. I lost Henry I can't lost you!" He hasn't go pass Henry, he was an asshole. But he couldn't get over him very easily and with more reason he needed Jack, he needed him for being there. Like he always has been.
In the end, Jack gave him Blackjack's collar, he would be stuck with him meanwhile he got that. Dave was about to go with tears in his eyes about to have a breakdown. But before he could vanish he felt a hand on his arm and a recognizable voice calling him.
"Hey Dave" the orange man said with a sad smile and opened his arms. "Happy birthday!" He said trying to hold back tears. But Dave couldn't do that, he hugged him like the apocalypse was happening and muttered a "Thank you" to him tearing up.
The two stayed quietly in Jack's last moments. Hugging each other just sharing two last sentences.
"Goodbye William, I hope you can find peace with what you've done"
"Goodbye Old Sport, thanks for putting me back togheter"
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kerink · 1 year
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god i cant wait to hear the haunting of night vale because im hoping we'll get to hear more about carlos and cecil's domestic life. what are their wants and needs for a house? what makes a house a home for them? who has what kind of stuff? what idiosyncrasies annoy each other? is esteban's room over flowing with toys? does he have hobbies? does cecil have a home office for his podcast or do they have a desk set up in their bedroom? do they have a guest room? how many are they hoping to have? i know finknor said they forgot about aubergine and that's why he's never mentioned again but do they ever talk about pets?
if you've seen it don't tell me i want to be surprised about the content but man...this is my wish list
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pseudodeepwords · 1 year
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1/2 is a hard day.
content warnings: it's sad but it's happy-sad.
Today is January 2, 2023. It's a new year once again! It's a time for joy and for hope, for manifesting a kinder year than the one preceding it. It's one of the worst days of the year. Mom would have been 65 today.
I could be sad about it today, but see, something has changed. I am kinder to myself than I used to be. Less full of doubt, less empty of confidence. I still don't like myself sometimes, but I find that I love myself even when I don't like myself. I try to choose peace. I try to let my current self heal my younger selves, all so eager to self-cannibalize. I let the child I was in a time I can only remember in scene excerpts climb into my lap and I tell her that it is okay, that she is beautiful and funny and smart and a princess who digs for dinosaur bones. I sit with my teenage self sit next to me and beg her to stop drowning herself, that she can blame herself for every bad thing that's ever happened to her and none of it will make it her fault, tell her too that she is beautiful in the body she has. I sit with myself at fifteen trying to figure out why I don't really feel like a girl and tell her that she doesn't have to be one, that she can be something other than she, something more nebulous and vague like how she feels inside, that we're they now and the people who matter respect that. I have to be nicer to me. I try not to be sad when I don't have to be - stop myself from slipping down that waterslide into tears even when it's one of the big Hurricane Falls tornado-tubes. So this January 2nd, I am going to do something different than what I usually do when I try to talk about Mom. I'm gonna say what I think she would have been like at 65.
First is that she would NOT be turning 65. She'd be turning 45, if she could stand to be that old, or maybe 43 to still ease her into it. Dad would've been giving her shit about it, because he always insisted that Mom was beautiful with all her signs of age and he didn't understand her complex about it. I get it more now than I did then, but I still kinda agree with Dad. Mom looked good with silver hair. Hers turned sterling as she aged, not like Granny's cotton ball or her previous orange-red. It was lovely. Mom didn't really care about mixing metals, so she wore silver and gold at the same time, and her stainless-steel-silver hair had little strawberry blonde streaks in it that made her little accessories even cuter on her. But if she had her way, she would probably still have it dyed as close to the red of her youth as possible. It reminds me of the time she agreed to let Chassie take her to a different hairdresser, who said mixing in a nice warm brown might slightly darken her hair color but would mean that the fade into red would be stunning, only for mom to leave with near-aubergine hair. Dad freaked the fuck out on that one. Mom had never dyed her hair anything but red, and the purple tint that brown gave her was wild to both of them. Mom lied and said it was okay, if I remember, but that was just so Chassie wouldn't feel bad. Chassie, if you read this, Mom HATED it, and the only person who hated it more was Dad, who was already mad because we waited too late to call him and he got worried. He was beside himself. I thought it looked cool.
She would have made chocolate pie today. She liked her own pie better than any cake, so she would make herself one. For any others who may stumble across this, allow me to tell you something about my mother: I think she was a witch. Only a little bit of one. Only in the kitchen. But when she cooked, I swear there was magick in her veins. She used the family pie crust recipe, and her own mother got mad at her for using the EXACT same recipe and Mom's STILL turning out better than Granny's. One year Granny made Mom make pie with her so they could make the same crust in the same conditions with the same ingredients and in the same oven so Granny could PROVE Mom had altered it somehow and THAT was how her crust was always so damn good. My dearest reader, I would not dream of lying to you about this - we unanimously agreed that Mom's crust was still somehow better. Granny had to admit defeat on that one. Mom would have made herself birthday chocolate pie, and Dad would have been up the WALL from the mess in the kitchen it inevitably made. Totally not Mom's fault, by the way; pie crust takes a lot of flour. Dad might have tried to convince her to make fried chicken, because he loved hers. I don't know if Mom knew or not, but he ranked her above his own dear grandmother in chicken frying skills. That's also true. Mom was a kitchen wizard.
She would have received gifts from Dad and I and probably Chassie too. She would try to hide her obvious impulse to say "I SAID I DIDN'T WANT ANYTHING," because she was nothing if not a spendthrift and she thought she had plenty of stuff. The love weighed out, I think. She wore the jewelry Dad got her all the time. Maybe Chassie would have taken us out to dinner, if she had the money, or Dad would have if his health wasn't so bad. Mom definitely would still have been working, because she would have gone insane without one, so she'd be tired and wouldn't really want to cook anyway, so she would have definitely been down. We would have gone for Mexican. Mom would have gotten some big Tex-Mex platter she had no way of finishing and taken half of it home to eat at work the next day. Birthday rules mean Dad wouldn't get to complain about how "we aren't paying for today and tomorrow," and I think he had already given up on that anyways before she even got sick. You know, I said probably Chassie, but Chassie totally would have come up for Mom's birthday. I might send this to her. Hi again, big sister. I'm going stream of consciousness right now, so bear with me. By the way, I totally would have Venmo'd you enough to cover margaritas for you and Mom even if you didn't want me to. I'd drive you home, too, just in case. It's hard to do this, by the way. It's hard to try and imagine what now would be like with her. Would I have this job? Would I have finished college? Would Chass be doing the same thing? Would Dad be so bad? Would things with Dad have been better? Would you have supported me going to college so far away? Would you have let me move down there? Would I be out to you? What would the last few years have been like for you? Would I have met so many of the people I consider so important? Who would still be in my life? Who would be gone? Who would I have never met? It makes it really difficult to say what Mom would have been like. I think I can only really say for certain two things about it: she would still have been casting her culinary cantrips, and she still would have loved us.
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