#;; [laughter devolves into gross crying]

[artificialqueens]

The Language of Flowers 5.25 (Multi) -Albatross

AN: Wonder what happened in Sharon’s apartment after Courtney and Willam’s fight? No? Well here it is anyway! is this mini chapter important for the plot? - ehh, maybe? is it necessary to read this before the true final chapter? - absolutely not did i plan for this be part of the finale since the very beginning? - sure, why not? prove otherwise. tbh it was only supposed to be touched on in the final chapter but as i was mapping out the story (i.e. playing out dialogue in my head on the drive to work) the whole scene in sharon’s apartment began to unfold until it turned into this. it’s not nearly as long or as detailed as other chapters so don’t really consider this as anything other than filler with a little bit of smut for smut’s sake. let’s just call it bonus content. side note: i’m hoping to have the final chapter done next week though!

The hand resting in the curve of her back was comforting…familiar. Something Willam absolutely needed right now to keep her grounded. She was just so pissed off that she was barely holding it together as Sharon led her into her apartment. Silently the pair sat on the couch side by side as Willam struggled not to break down. Her body was trembling with anger as she replayed every word and syllable of that fight on a loop. With every revisit she felt her rage festering just a little more inside of her. It was hardly a surprise when Sharon found a damp cheek pressed against her neck only a few minutes after they had sat down.

Every now and then a tremor would run through Willam’s core as silent tears continued to stream down her face. She had said horrible things to Courtney…and Courtney replied in kind. Though she loved when they engaged in their playful bickering, she hated when the conversation would devolve into an actual fight. And this was certainly the worst one they’ve had yet. Everything, her head, her heart, her body; it all just hurt as she sat crying on Sharon’s couch. The blonde had immediately pulled her close having known from years of experience when to recognize when Willam simply needed to be held even if she’d never ask for it. It was hard seeing her friend so upset, she could scarcely remember the last time she saw Willam shed a tear. It must have been ages ago…

A soft sniffle caught her attention and shortly after she found the dirty blonde pulling away ever so slightly. Her eyes were red and makeup smeared in drying streaks down her cheeks. Sharon was sure there must be some evidence of that on her neck, if not on her clothes as well, but that was the least of her concerns right now.

Every bit of her attention was on the vulnerable young woman in her arms staring up at her with wide eyes and a quivering bottom lip. Her expression made her look so young and innocent that it was hard to believe she was the same woman that would proudly brag about her sexual conquests regardless of who was around her. Sharon thought she was imagining it at first when Willam’s sight flickered to her lips for a brief second then back up to meet her sympathetic gaze.

Very slowly, Willam was leaning in with hooded eyes until there was less than a millimeter of space between them. She held her position there just long enough for Sharon to practically taste the peppermint lingering on her breath before Willam’s lips brushed against hers. The dirty blonde’s hand quickly found its way to the back of Sharon’s head and kept her there as she began to work her mouth against the older woman’s in a desperate fashion.

She sat frozen for a moment in pure shock; they hadn’t done this in months after all but soon she found herself kissing back. She was as hesitant as Willam was insistent. Something about this felt so right yet still so wrong as she allowed Willam to climb carefully into her lap. Her hands made their way to Willam’s hips and a storm of memories from the first time they slept together came flooding into her mind.

They had been drinking quite heavily that night and were just on the cusp of being downright drunk by the time they found their way to Sharon’s then-apartment. That had been almost three years ago, the thought of one day owning half of a flower shop hadn’t even crossed Sharon’s mind yet as she fell into bed with one of her closest friends. They were laughing about all of their misadventures earlier that evening as well as any other stupid little thing that happened to spill from their mouths. Sharon was curled into the younger woman laughing just because her friend was. Even though she loved to make fun of it, Willam’s laugh, especially when it got to the point of snorting, was one of her favorite sounds in the world. And the alcohol in her system only made her appreciate it even more at the moment.

She wasn’t sure what thought had caused her to do it, maybe it was even a response to something Willam had just said, but somehow Sharon found herself licking a playful broad stripe up the side of Willam’s neck. She meant for it to gross Willam out, she distinctly remembered that, yet for some reason the reaction she received had been far different than what was intended.

The dirty blonde shivered at the contact and her laughter died soon after Sharon’s tongue had left her skin. When Sharon pulled back to debate if she should apologize or not, she found a light flush rising to Willam’s cheeks. Her eyes were dark and her breathing was getting heavy as she took a tense swallow and stared longingly at the older blonde. Very deliberately, Sharon leant down again and licked another slow and lazy trail from Willam’s clavicle up to the corner of her jaw.

Willam was biting her lip by the time Sharon pulled away but she made no motion or noise to indicate that wanted Sharon to stop. Lowering her lips back to Willam’s skin, she placed a soft kiss at the same spot she left off on and traveled across her face until their lips were just touching one another. Willam was the first to make a move; crashing their mouths together roughly as though she were taking all of the energy she made built up over the night and focusing it on Sharon.

Placing herself over top of the young woman, Sharon returned the passion and allowed her hands to find their way beneath Willam’s exceedingly short dress. The panties were barely pulled aside before Sharon was tracing the first finger along Willam’s folds. Almost like a switch Willam had turned into a vocal, needy mess that was desperate for Sharon’s touch. She loved the sense of control she had over the young woman even when she was barely doing anything. The slight dip of her finger into the warmth left Willam pleading for more. In only a few minutes and a mere two fingers, she had Willam shaking beneath her and promising anything she wanted just for a little bit of relief.

Sharon would comply to the request for a few seconds, bringing her just close enough to the edge that she could taste it before relaxing her speed and drawing her back like it was nothing. Willam was alternating between trying to keep her dignity by biting back any further begging and just giving into Sharon completely. Her body felt like it was getting worked to the limit and back but it was never quite enough to provide the release she needed. It was no surprise that Sharon could be quite the tease when she wanted to be.

But finally the blonde consented to finish the job and ran her thumb in alternating circles along Willam’s clit as her fingers continued to stroke her G-spot. Willam only lasted another minute or so before she came apart entirely under Sharon’s touch. It was everything she wanted it to be after such long and dry night. Her chest heaved as she slowly came down from cloud nine and back to reality.

Sharon watched her the entire time, amazed at how she almost looked angelic in those few short moments of pure bliss. But all of that changed once Willam flipped their positions and smirked devilishly as she spread Sharon’s thighs in order to claim her own prize. Neither of them was quite sure the next morning of how many times they had came before calling it quits. They certainly had been loud enough given the complaints from both the neighbors and building super over the next day and a half. They could honestly say they never really expected it to happen again yet only two weeks later they found their way to Willam’s bed with almost the same results.

Any activity they participated in behind closed doors never had any effect on their relationship so they were content to let things be. After Sharon found Jinkx she couldn’t shake the twinge of guilt she felt even after just a small kiss and within a few months of Jinkx’s hire they had decided to call the whole thing off. It was just as well and Willam didn’t seem to mind; she could find others easily and often times she did just that…at least until Courtney came along.

Yet here they were again; starting to go at it just like they had been only a few months ago. Sharon’s hands resting on Willam’s hips as their bodies were pushed together just felt so natural to both of them. If the circumstances were different Sharon might have just allowed herself to fall back into their old routine and take Willam to bed with her once more. But at the forefront of her mind she knew this wasn’t like their situation only a year ago; this had to stop for both of their sake. So when Willam pulled away with hazy, distracted eyes and whispered an imploring, “Please…fuck me,” Sharon immediately knew her answer.

With absolute determination in her mind, she shook her head and stated firmly, “No.”

That one simple word seemed to shatter Willam’s world and never before could Sharon recall the young woman looking so broken. Her eyes were beginning to flood with new tears and she just seemed so small and helpless in Sharon’s hold. It was almost enough to make her give in right there but she knew they’d regret it later if she allowed herself to succumb to a moment of temptation.

Carefully pushing the lean body off of her lap, Sharon gingerly told her, “You’re mad at Courtney, I get that…But this isn’t the way to deal with it-”

Willam’s face morphed into one of utter frustration as she shouted, “But she fucked Katya! She-”

“She doesn’t know what that meant to you,” Sharon interjected with an air of rationality. The news was quite a shock to her but she could ponder over that later. Comforting Willam was her first and only priority right now. “Trying to one-up her won’t change or fix anything…it’s only going to screw you both over in the end.”

Willam was desperately trying to fight back a fresh slew of tears but the instant Sharon wrapped her arms around the young woman again everything broke free. She was a fully sobbing mess as she buried herself in Sharon’s hold knowing that the older woman wouldn’t breathe a word of this to anyone, not even Violet. She could let her guard down completely as every one of those overwhelming emotions spilled out of her in an ugly, pitiful display of weakness.

“I hate her!” Willam cried into Sharon’s chest, “I hate her so fucking much right now!”

Running her hand along the young woman’s back, Sharon murmured, “I know, honey. And that’s okay…Be angry as long as you need to. I’ll be here whenever you want to vent.”

[deadpan-dan-blog]

Act 1: Goofing Off (pt. 1)

“Alright bro, here’s the deal; I’ll get you a 12 pack of whatever you want if you go around the parking lot and put stray carts in the shopping cart thingies- You know what I’m talking about?”

“Uh huh…”

“Also pick up any trash you come across. Don’t touch anything gross this time though or mom won’t let me hear the end of it- You hear me Germ?”

“Kaaay.”

“Good. Now what do you want, little bro?”

“Lemon-lime Fiasco.”

“Sure thing! Be back to check on you in a bit.” the older boy took the 12 year old’s hat and ruffled his feathers a bit, making him cringe, before gently replacing the hat. Germ looked at the high schoolers for a second, narrowed his eyes, then walked away.

“Seems like a good kid.” Dan said as they headed back to the Food Donkey.

“He is, he can be a real werido though.” his friend replied

“How so?” Dan asked as the automatic doors opened and the friends walked toward the registers.

“Okay so, few months back,” he began “before you started working here, I had him doing the parking lot, like usual, yeah? And- Hang on. Heeey Beth! We finished the parking lot.”

“That was quick…” she said with suspicion.

“I’m always quick. It’s called experience, Beth! Think you’d have some after working here for a decade or whatever. Also people put their carts away for us, so courteous! I love this town. Seeya in a bit!” Beth gave a questioning look. Though younger than thirty she already had wrinkles, probably from chain-smoking, Dan thought

“It’s done, really.” Dan assured her “We’re gonna go do inventory. With both of us on it, we should be able to get out of here at closing.”

“Riiight… I’ll do front then.” Beth said unenthused.

“Thanks Beth.” Dan said before jogging slightly to catch up to his coworker, who hadn’t bothered to stop.

“Okay so anyway, my bro’s doing the parking lot right?”

“Yeah?”

“So I come out with his stuff and everything’s done but he’s nowhere to be seen!”

“Oh no.”

“So I start yellin’ ‘Jeremy! Jeremy!’ for like 10 minutes! Until he comes back and I ask him what the eff, dude? Turns out he found a dead possum and instead of not touching it like a normal person, he carried it off to the woods so he could ‘lay it to rest with it’s own kind’ or something.”

“Wow.”

“So I tell him ‘You better go inside the store and wash your hands or so help me God! And don’t touch anything or you’ll start a plague or something.’ You know what he did?”

“hehe What?” Dan asked with anticipation as he grabbed a scan gun.

“He looked me right in the eye, yelled ‘GERM WARFARE!’ grabbed the soda out of my hands and ran away!” Dan burst into laughter.

“HAHAHAHAH haha oh my haha oh my god”

“And thus he is dubbed.” he concluded

“Heeeeh indeed” Dan agreed, as his laughter devolved into wheezing. “Here, you want the gun? heh”

“Yeah yeah- gimme.” he fiddled with the buttons until the red light shone at the end.

“Okay, maybe that’s a bit odd but aren’t we all? Especially you, James.” Dan said to his friend, who was holding the scan gun like a Navy Seal, flashing the red light at the wall.

“What? Naah.”

“Uh yaah. You’re weird, dude. Must run in the family. Except your brother’s like, goofy, but you’re, like, an asshole.” Dan said teasingly

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said indignantly

“Remember when you basically told Miss Quelcy that her art class sucked and her nose was crooked?” Dan began handing items to James for him to scan and enter how many were in stock.

“What? The sheet said to give my honest feedback so I did! I didn’t think she was gonna cry about it.” James explained.

“What did you expect? You don’t just say stuff like that to people, dude. They get, like, offended.”

“Is that my fault though? Should I just lie to people?”

“Just find something nice to say, I guess.” Dan suggested

“She never found anything nice to say about my artwork.” James pouted

“Damn…” Dan was slightly taken aback, “Well the school gave her like no funding for that class.”

“Then why make us take it? Really sounds like this is the school’s fault.”

“You didn’t have to say that about her nose though.” Dan insisted

“It asked for additional comments and she said to fill out every section. She was literally asking for it. I thought it would be funny. Anyway, I apologized!”

“Yeah you said ‘I’m sorry your nose is crooked.’”

“Yeah?” James held his hand up in a questioning gesture.

“I can’t quite tell if you’re an asshole or just dumb.” Dan admitted.

“I could kill you right now, Danny-boy.” James threatened.

“Uh huh” Dan brushed off the threat focusing on the shelf he was rearranging.

“Boom!” James fired the scan light directly at Dan’s face.

“Ah my eyes! What the hell?!” Dan complained

“Oh sorry. You know I’d never want to hurt your pretty little eyes.” James mocked

“Do you really wanna get in a fist fight right now?” Dan asked

“Yes.”

“You sure you want some of this, short stuff?” Dan asked with a sideways look as they squared up in the back room.

“I’m one of the best wrestlers in our region!” James stated indignantly.

“In your weight class maybe. I’m like 20lbs heavier than you though.”

“Stop stalling! You don’t stand a chance, Danielle.” James lowered his head and entered a fighting pose

“Oh now it’s personal, Jamie!” Dan matched James pose then they clashed. Dan threw out a few playful punches to begin with, utilizing his range advantage. James grabbed one of Dan’s punches and counter-attacked, trying to play it off as effortless. Dan dodged and rewarded his hubris by tackling James to the ground. The boys wrestled for a bit with Dan getting the upper hand, then James, then Dan again. Eventually, they ended up in a pushing match, legs bent, arms locked, in a match of pure strength and Dan would win imminently…

Or so he thought. James instead let up completely on his end, allowing Dan to unexpectedly push him over and used the momentum as he rolled backward to flip Dan over his body with his legs. Dan fell onto his back on the floor and before he could react, James used the opportunity to jump on top of Dan and pin him. Dan struggled to regain freedom.

“That was a dirty trick!” Dan complained

“Told ya!” James said triumphantly

Dan continued to struggle for a moment until he realized he was vaguely enjoying the feel of James’ body on top of his, though he would never admit it and certainly didn’t want to bump James the wrong way and make this even more embarrassing for himself. He was looking Dan in the eyes with an oblivious grin. Dan’s blue-green eyes stared into James’ maroon ones for longer than two friends normally should, but to look away now would be to admit defeat. However, James’ gaze, dark with cocky mischief and a glimmer of child-like innocence, as well as their bodies rubbing together was starting to get the better of him.

“You can get off me now.” Dan said breaking eye contact in embarrassment.

“You gotta tap out, dude!” James insisted. Dan gave an irritated look before reluctantly tapping the ground to signal his defeat. James jumped off of Dan as quickly as he had jumped on and offered his hand to help his friend up.

“That trick won’t work twice.” Dan warned as he accepted James’ hand and returned to his feet.

“We’ll have a rematch sometime, but first, lets go check on my brother.” James walked out of the backroom without waiting for his friend, like always, giving Dan some time to calm down and readjust himself before following. That was… weird. We’ve done that before but I’ve never...

Author Note:

[[DISCLAIMER I am not a writer I’m just doing this for fun. This is full of personal headcanons you can accept or reject at your discretion. I debated James Warton’s height internally for a long time, for example. More Germ in the next part coming tomorrow. I have planned 3 acts I’m not sure when act 2 will be done though. I hope you enjoy it even if the main cast is missing. It’s nice to know what came before in Possum Springs though right? I may incorporate more characters in the future but only if it comes to me naturally.]]

[sylveon-official]

bustin out the mpreg fluff as everyone else busts out the porn lol

Pt. 3 of Otayuri mpreg adventures

It's two in the morning and Yuri just wants a damn cheeseburger.

ao3 or under the cut

“Beka…”

“Mmmm…?”

“Beka, wake up.”

“Wha… what time is it?”

Yuri purses his lips, but continues to softly, yet urgently jostle Otabek by the bicep. There are more much more important matters to worry about than a little thing like the time.

“Beka, please…”

Otabek finally groans and rolls over to face Yuri, an arm flung over one eye as the other seeks out the digital alarm clock on the side table, just past the bulge of Yuri’s six-and-half-month pregnant belly.

“Yura…”

“Beka…”

“It’s two in the morning…”

“I know, but—”

Otabek cuts him off with a sharp sigh, thumbs going to massage his temples.

“Babe… you promised me no more middle-of-the-night snack runs.”

Yuri huffs, folding his arms atop of his belly in defiance.

“I can’t exactly help it—”

Otabek clucks his tongue and Yuri really doesn’t think he appreciates the sound of it. Before he can vocalize that thought, Otabek cuts in again.

“I know. Yura, I know. It’s just—I also know you know I have to be up for practice at five—”

Yuri splutters indignantly. “Yeah, well, you went to bed at like nine last night—”

“—and this is the third time this week—”

Yuri scoffs as Otabek rails on, voice increasing in speed and volume.

“And I seriously can’t help but think you’re just doing this on purpose to test my patience at this point!”

The air stales in the ensuing silence, Yuri biting his lip to quell the impending outburst.

Yuri briefly catches Otabek side eyeing him, frozen in horror as Yuri’s lip trembles and small whine escapes, inevitably bubbling over into a broken wail.

“Yura!” Otabek cries, clearly exasperated, as Yuri’s sobs grow more forceful.

“Yuri, shhh, you’re going to wake the neighbors up again—”

“Is that all you care about?” Yuri whines through big, fat, theatrical tears that he honestly can’t really help, but isn’t really trying to hold back.

“Of course not, Yurachka, it’s just—”

“When your pregnant as fuck mate is right next to you, fucking starving and in a hormonal rampage no thanks to you,” Yuri sneers through hiccupping sobs and judging by the way Otabek draws in a tight breath he knows he’s pushing his mate to his wit’s end, but once he gets this wound up this tight he can’t stop until he—

“Come on, Yuri! You can’t just cry me into getting you McDonald’s at fuck-all-o’clock in the morning every fucking time you—!”

—snaps—

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING STOP!”

Yuri is gasping ragged breaths by the time he’s done, and one glance at Otabek tells him he’s really gone too far this time.

“Yuri…” Otabek breathes, features twisted into something in between concern and shock.

Great. As if he needed another outburst to add to the stockpile of reasons for Otabek to leave him before the pup’s even born. Yuri wouldn’t even blame him at this point.

“Yura, relax,” Otabek says, barely a whisper, and it isn’t until his hand is hovering cautiously over Yuri’s own that he realizes he’s shaking.

Before his brain can catch up with his actions, Yuri’s pulling away his hand as if its been burnt.

“Don’t touch me,” Yuri rasps back belatedly.

He needs to get away from here. Yuri shuffles to his left so that his feet are off the side of the bed. He uses the side table to hoist himself up, breathing deep for a few moments to steady himself.

Otabek doesn’t say a word as Yuri slips out the door.

Yuri sits cross-legged on the couch, staring into the black of the television screen as he works slowly on his next spoonful of peanut butter. He strokes absent-mindedly at the bulgiest part of his tummy where his spawn has been kicking up a storm for the better part of the last hour, clearly an act of spite for waking her up in the middle of the night.

Tears are rolling silently down his cheeks when Otabek rounds the corner, softly knocking at the partition between the hallway and the living room. Yuri sniffles and makes quick work of brushing the tear tracks away.

“Hey,” comes Otabek’s voice, soft and cautious.

“Hey,” comes Yuri’s response around the mouthful of peanut butter he’s still working on.

“Can we talk?” Otabek ventures a little further into the room. Yuri tenses up, because when is the phrase ‘can we talk’ ever indicative of anything good? Still, Otabek’s never been that sensitive to layered meanings and Yuri nods ‘yes’ anyway, scooting towards the far end of the couch so that Otabek can take a seat a safe distance away.

Yuri is still staring into the empty television when Otabek sits down, legs spread wide enough to touch the edge of Yuri’s pinky toe that’s hanging off of the couch. He draws back instinctively, but sighs when he earns a vaguely hurt expression from Otabek in his peripheral.

“You know I don’t hate you…” Yuri starts lamely, letting the sentence hang in the air before he’s interrupted by a sharp kick to his bladder. “Ow, fuck.”

“I know. Is she keeping you up?” Otabek tentatively reaches out towards where Yuri is kneading at his belly, hand hovering and eyes questioning.

Yuri shoots him a guarded look, but it melts down quickly. He’s too tired to keep up the act and his wrist is cramping anyways. He grabs Otabek’s hand and guides it towards where the baby is kicking.

Otabek huffs what counts as a small laugh for him as he takes over the gentle massage. “Feels like she’s kickboxing your guts.”

Yuri grimaces. “Yeah. Payback for waking her up I guess…”

Otabek hums noncommittally as they lapse into a silence that’s not exactly tense, but is slightly weighted on top of the exhaustion that’s clearly settling over them both.

Yuri’s the first to give into the exhaustion and follows his instinct, setting the thoroughly licked spoon down on the coffee table sothat he can slide back into Otabek’s chest. Otabek accommodates him easily, shifting so that his back is against the armrest and one leg is behind Yuri. Yuri adjusts so that he’s lying sideways on top of him. He noses at Otabek’s neck, relaxing at the familiar scent.

Otabek’s other hand snakes around to stroke at Yuri’s elbow, thumbing tenderly at the skin there as his other hand continues to massage just below his bellybutton.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” Otabek sighs into Yuri’s hair, before pressing a long, sweet kiss into the crown of his head.

Yuri tenses up at the admission, and it’s not long after that his face is scrunching up in a sniffle that he tries to suppress — which unfortunately, just leads to more tears leaking from his eyes.

“Fuck!” Yuri whispers through a hiccupping little sob, hiding his face in the crook of Otabek’s neck while gripping helplessly onto the collar of his boyfriend’s shirt.

“Shhhh,” Otabek breathes into his hair, nosing along his scalp and peppering the occasional kiss there. “It’s okay, Yura.”

“Ugh!” Yuri beats a fist half-heartedly into Otabek’s chest once he’s gained control of his breath. “It’s not, though, Beka! I’m the one who should be sorry. I know I’ve been a fucking pain in the ass—for months now. I know I’m doing it, but I can’t stop, and I—” he chokes on a small sob before forcing through his tears, “I feel like I’m pushing you away,” Yuri sniffles, voice small and fragile.

“Yuri…”

Otabek sighs and for a split-second Yuri is genuinely anxious that he’s simply going to agree. Instead, Otabek lifts his hand from Yuri’s belly to tilt his chin up so they can lock eyes. Yuri knows his own eyes must be gross and puffy and bloodshot, so he quickly lifts a hand to cover them.

“Yuri…” Otabek sighs again, this time with a hint of laughter behind his tone that convinces Yuri to let his boyfriend gently remove the hand over his eyes.

Yuri sends an exaggerated pout in Otabek’s direction as his mate thumbs gently at the tear tracks he can feel starting to stick to his skin.

Otabek smiles softly in return, that rare, dope-y lovesick one that would leave Yuri weak at the knees if he weren’t already lying down.

“I don’t know if you realized it yet, but you’re pregnant, kotik.”

Yuri rolls his eyes and huffs at that, but Otabek just presses a kiss to his hairline before continuing, “Cravings, hormones… temper tantrums...” Otabek pauses meaningfully and smirks, the bastard, “They’re all part of the experience. And besides, if you being an ‘asshole’ is what was supposed to drive me away, I think that would’ve happened a long time ago.”

Yuri’s mouth drops open at that and he has every intention of verbally chewing his mate out, except he really can’t help the way his mouth twists into a grin on its own accord.

“You are a fucking dick!” Yuri manages between disbelieving laughter, slapping Otabek hard enough on the chest that his breath gets knocked out of him.

“If you’re the asshole and I’m the dick, we fit together perfectly—,” Otabek positively leers before leaning down and blowing a raspberry into the crook of Yuri’s neck.

“Gross!” Yuri cries out, giggling as Otabek assaults his neck, raspberries devolving into a deep chuckle that vibrates against Yuri in a way that causes a shiver up his spine…

… and an attention-starved baby to make her presence known once more.

“Ow, okay, okay, Beka, stop— she— oh…”

Otabek detaches himself from Yuri’s neck instantly, peering down as Yuri clutches at the round of his stomach.

“Yuri?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just gimme a minute—” Yuri bites out, palming at the spot where he’s cramping up.

Otabek’s hand joins him as the pain starts to subside.

“Just two more months,” Otabek sighs, gently stroking over Yuri’s bellybutton. His eyes flutter closed and he sinks deeper into the couch, pulling Yuri more firmly against his chest.

“Try two and a half. Don’t try to pretend those last two weeks aren’t going to be hell… I already feel fucking huge. If I can’t walk, you’re gonna have to carry me everywhere,” Yuri yawns, snuggling into Otabek’s chest as his own eyelids grow heavy with fatigue.

He feels Otabek scoff from the rise of his chest against his cheek but before his mate can get a word in, Yuri continues, “Also, you owe me a McDonald’s breakfast if I wake up with a fucked up back from sleeping like this.”

“Brat,” Otabek whispers behind a short laugh and Yuri smirks against his collarbone in return.

“You love me.”

“I do,” Otabek replies, and Yuri can feel him smiling lazily against his hair.

The next morning, Yuri smiles as he wakes up to the smell of egg McMuffins and hash browns.

“I figured it was better not to risk it,” Otabek is leaning smugly against the kitchen counter and ready to explain when Yuri cracks an eye open.

“I love you so much,” Yuri groans dramatically before burying his face into one of the throw pillows.

“I know,” Otabek responds with a laugh.

And even though Yuri’s back does kind of have a crick in it, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything – even for a two in the morning food-run.

[deevolutionisreal]

Ono

The canonical version of this post appears at https://de-evolution.band/article/ono/

Hardcore Vol. 1 - Track 14 - Ono

Jon Moving on to Ono?

Chris Yeah. Okay it's all cued up.

Jon Do it.

Chris YouTube keeps putting ads for itself in front of videos. I…don't get it.

Jon Hahaha.

Chris Okay. Here's the countdown. 3. 2. 1. Now!

Jon We're back to weird meter. And overt sexual creepiness.

Chris Yep. Another horn-dog song. A reference to a cell-phone.

Jon I thought I heard that too but it wouldn't make sense.

Chris But most of the lyrics are just gross sex references? They have this machine-like hum in the background. Siren like.

Jon Oh yeah. We do get some "it's all the same" lyrical content though. Wear gaudy colors or avoid display, it doesn't matter.

Chris Musically it feels like a red alert.

Jon Makes sense, couple with "oh no"

Chris Yeah. Crazed laughter at the end. Almost crying.

Jon The uncomfortable yell-laughing/crying at the end…

Chris Pretty creep-tastic.

Jon Yeah jinx. Haha.

Chris :P I looked up the lyrics. It's not cell phone. It's sell phone.

Jon Hmm.

Chris "I said let's sell the phone"

Jon Oh! There we go.

Chris So we just want to make everything an iPhone in 2018.

Jon Sounds about right yeah.

Chris This one seems perhaps the most nihilistic cut on the album. It's unrelentingly bleak. On some of their stuff, either the lyrics or the music or something will give you a break. Not here. Both lyrics and music are dark.

Jon Oh agreed.

Chris It seems like a water-color picture of a guy trying to escape his girlfriend, and they can't fuck? Or it's not working? But he thinks it's hopeless anyway? And they're sick? Dude I don't know. I haven't figured out how the title relates.

Jon Yeah it's not a big enough glimpse to get much detail, but that seems to be how they work.

Chris Yes. And I like that. I feel like literal lyrics become boring. More impressionistic ones hold up better, I think.

Jon I'd agree with that.

Chris Because you listen to music a lot. And you're listening for a feeling, not for a narrative. At least that's the case with most folks, I'd argue.

Jon Even in written fiction I prefer stuff that isn't crazy straightforward.

Chris Yeah, good fiction has layers. Do you have a bead on why it's called Ono? Is it a Yoko dig?

Jon Not sure! Might have just been a fun/"devolved" way to spell Oh No.

Jon Since that's def how they sing it.

Chris Ah yeah that makes sense. I have been thinking too much about it lol. I'm like, "they hate the fucking Beatles"

Jon Haha. Before we move on to Mongoloid, I wanna link you to someone else's review of it.

Chris Reading.

Jon I always think of this dude's response lyrics whenever I hear the song now.

Chris Holy shit, yeah. Are those real un-released Devo songs or is he making a point about their insensitivity towards disabled folks? *

Jon Oh no he's making a point.

* Chris can be gullible to the point where he can be convinced by someone who wasn't trying to pull the wool over his eyes.