Depressed Mickey Mouse Novels & Stories

’ He exploded into laughter. And so did his guys. Until a loud THWACK! Smacked over their laughter and instantly shot it dead. Mickey was right back on the ground, sprawled like a dead body. Only, he wished he were truly dead. Ralph Virtus grabbed his stained damp collar and hoisted up what had not been eaten by the drugs and swung another fist into that sickeningly protruding cheekbone. CRACK! Mickey howled like his women would when he pounded them and then started sobbing. ‘YOU MOTHERFUCKER! GET HI—ARGH!’

Chapter – 0003 Alannah Mikey moving in was a complete game changer. I’d been feeling hurt and depressed, and Rob didn’t even notice or care to ask me how I was. He was too busy texting pictures of his old, shriveled dick to 20 year old sluts from Tender.

You can't sulk forever sweetie. "I can't even think properly without thinking about him. I just want to stay home and in bed so I can sulk a little longer before I get back home." I say. "Okay, anything you want. I'll seat and sulk with you, we'll have a girls day in." "I brought ice cream and cupcakes," Mickey says entering the room. I had told him I was sick so as not to tell him the real reason why I was sad. He came back from Paris yesterday.

I suddenly felt a hand grab me from the back, "Hello there, boss," he said in his squeaky voice. My face met his, and I unconsciously let out a smile. Micky...he looked better than the last time I saw him, he was having fun too, and that filled me with a kind of happiness. I had thought he would not return after seeing his mother's disappointment at the hospital. We were later joined by Mike who looked even more exhausted than he did the last time I saw him... "You look like hammered shit," I signed to him. "I know, man. Living on books would do that to you too, Chuks. I have missed your crazy ass," he replied with a loud laugh and extended his arms forward, trying to hug me. I shrugged at t

I got up and my lower back groaned in pain. I sat down in my chair, Lizzie on the side of me and Micah in the back of us. Suddenly, Mikey burst out laughing Liyah and I watched him. "You should've seen your face" He laughed wiping tears from his eyes. I was already grumpy and my ass was hurting from the fall. "Shut the fuck up, Micah" I growled at him, flashing my wolf at him and he stop laughing immediately. "You sure are moody today, Van" Lizzie commented.

The fragile peace they’d been living in for the past week and a half felt like thin ice—beautiful on the surface, but ready to crack with one wrong step. “Yo, boss lady,” Mikey called from across the bay, his voice cracking with that awkward teenage enthusiasm. The nineteen-year-old prospect was sprawled dramatically across a workbench, pretending to fan himself with an oily rag. “If you keep making these bikes sound like angry demons, I’m gonna start thinking you sold your soul to the devil. Or worse—Reaper’s dick.”

Rain poured down in torrents. Everyone else left the cemetery. Only Mickey remained. Like he'd been waiting for this moment, he stumbled to his feet and staggered toward my grave. In the empty graveyard, his cries echoed between the raindrops. And I listened. Every broken sob. Every plea. My chest tightened. Mickey… why didn't you realize earlier? He collapsed at the grave and lost consciousness. The fever came quickly and burned for days. He locked himself in the wine cellar, disappearing into the shadows and smoke.

Jordan said in a less cold voice than usual “yes, there is good news and when you hear it you will be jumping like a crazy raccoon” “Hmm, then it must be something spectacular,” “UHmm…our Mickey has finally found himself a girlfriend, he is getting married..” because of hunger Michel had completely forgotten to tell her about the joke, So when Michel heard the sentence about him getting a girlfriend made him choke over his food.

“Uh…air. Just air.” He glanced up then, suspicious. “You’re strange.” “I get that a lot.” [System Tip: Try humor using self-deprecation. Humans find it relatable.] I sighed. “Dream, if I die under your management, tell my funeral guests I was killed by deadlines and your resting glare.” His fingers paused on the keyboard. One heartbeat. Two. Then, very faintly, almost inaudibly, he exhaled through his nose. [System Alert: Micro-laugh detected. Progress 75%.]

he stammered, voice cracking with disbelief. “Why is he acting so surprised?” one of them mocked, sneering. “Maybe he wants us to believe he doesn’t have it so he can sneak off and sniff it in a quiet corner. Apparently the big bad Alpha is depressed and needs to let loose a little, boo fucking hoo!”