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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

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You Can’t Get Better Than A Thrombey

Summary- 4.7 Ransom x You. You and Ransom have a good thing going. Friends with benefits and nothing more. But Ransom’s selfish ways end up ruining it, and you are done. Gone. You moved on with your life. Until one traveling night that brings you back to the city you had left behind, and of course Ransom Drysdale shows up. Written for @imanuglywombat Wombat’s Ugly 4k Challenge.

Warnings- This fic has a spousal cheating element to it. Please do not read if that bothers you. Other warnings, Smut, Male receiving Oral and Swears.

A/N- Thank you @imanuglywombat for the wonderful challenge! It was so much fun. Congratulations on your follower count babes.

A/N Two- Moodboard Wombat made is at the very bottom of the fic, and the lyrics used for second prompt, Good Luck by Basement Jaxx will be in italiacs through the fic.

A/N three- if just occurred to me that the whole "you cant get better then a thrombey" came from @jtargaryen18 series Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales, which her Ransom Drysdale series is top tier and absolutely should go read. It's one of my favorites. Probably why the line got stuck in my head.

“Come on Baby, just one more.” Ransom hissed against your ear, his tongue swiping over the shell of your ear while tightening his hold on your throat, your sobs coming out half strangled from needing to come on his cock that he kept pounding into you. Feet planted on the plush hotel carpet, his thrusts into your cunt had you gasping with need while your channel fluttered around his cock. He grasped your hand that was currently buried in his hair and wrenched your hand down to press against your stomach. “Feel that Kitten, how I’m rearranging your guts and fucking you useless for anyone else?”

Your head nodded, as much as he allowed with the hold on your throat, causing his fingers to flex, closing around your throat tighter till you were seeing sparks blossom in your sight and that's when you couldn't hold back anymore. Behind you, Ransom's sweaty chest clung like wrap to your back, vibrating as he grunted against your shoulder. You ended up flooding his cock, gushing on your thighs and slicking against his as he pounded you harder now, grabbing your hips and rutting you now to reach his end. Leaving your limp body to be rag-dolled in his lap till he shot himself inside of you to paint your walls, and you both fell back against the ruined California King bed, the sheets sex sweat stained from earlier.

Gasping breaths and heaving chests were the only sound in the overheated room, and you eased off him, your back peeling away to roll next to him with a groan. You peeked at him from where you had buried your head against the crook of your arm, and admired the flushed cheeks, and still tensing tendons in his neck, his hair was all disheveled and out of its usual place from where he always had it groomed back. “Mmh, what are you staring at?” He questioned before turning to look at you, his ridiculously long lashes were swept against his cheek for half a second before cold crystal cerulean’s looked at you inquiring.

“I'm looking at your post orgasm face.” You respond, and prop a hand under your head once you turn to your side. “It's a good look on you Ransom, one of your better ones.”

He arched a brow as he reached over, tracing the curve of your breast before tugging on a still sensitive nipple to make you gasp, and shove your hand against his shoulder making him smirk in his signature way. “Fucking glad you approve, maybe we should do this more often.”

“Well next time you're in the city, give me a call.” You say swinging up to sit on the edge of the bed, looking around at your discarded clothing.

“And where the fuck you going?” He tugged you back to tumble into the bed, rolling over you so you could feel his thighs wedge yours apart and his hips drop into place. You fold your arms across your chest and huff, looking up at him as he braced himself above you, tendrils of sweaty hair falling over his forehead.

“You can't be serious Ransom, again? I have to go back to my apartment. I have a work meeting tomorrow with my bosses.” You state matter of fact. “Besides, whatever happened to that no sleeping over rule?”

“Who says I'm letting you sleep? I barely get to come to the city anyways.” He lowered over you, pressing his soft pillowed lips in all your weakest spots on your shoulder and neck, a hand sliding between your thighs and into slick folds. Fuck this man, your mind thought till it went blank again in the sensation of his fingers so expertly playing between your petals that you already were stretching your thighs wider for him. “I haven't thoroughly fucked you yet.”

“God I hate you.” You moaned out as you felt your resolve fluttering into his favor, the metal of his pinkie rubbed against your clit and a long finger stretched you open once more.

“Well this sure isn't love Kitten, cause I'm about to destroy you. Admit it Y/N, you haven't had anything better than me.” He expertly gave you those long fingered strokes that had you keening his name, losing your entire resolve.

“That's my girl…” He praised above you while you grabbed his biceps and started to climb to the heavens all over again.

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A knock on the door disturbed your sleep. You stirred in confusion against the overly soft pillow that wasn't at all familiar. You lifted your head in confusion, looking around when another knock came, and you heard Ransom yell from the bathroom, snapping it open. “Fuck, will be right there.”

You clutched the sheet and sat up, rubbing at your eyes while he brought in a cart with covered trays. “I didn't think you would ever get up Y/N.” He said while wheeling it to a table, and it occurred to you that the sun was awful bright.

“Oh shit, Ransom, what time is it?” You shoot across the bed, looking desperately for your cell phone, and he gives a shrug while lifting the cover off one tray.

“Hell if I know… 10? 11?” he says while grabbing a piece of toast and biting the corner while you are moving aside pillows trying to find your phone.

“Ransom!” You snagged your phone from under a pillow, and checked the notifications. Closing your eyes in frustration. “It's more like 1 in the afternoon, and I was supposed to have a meeting at 10. I set my alarm.”

Ransom strode over to you as you were typing out a message to your office hurriedly. “Oh, yea I might have silenced it this morning. The fucking thing wouldn’t stop chirping.”

Your eyes lifted from your screen and said with utmost disbelief. “You… silenced it?”

“It was so fucking early and woke me up Y/N.” Like you had inconvenienced him. “I don’t know why you set the fucking thing anyways.” He said, and you felt rage well up in your chest, pushing up out of the bed, and grabbed at your clothes.

“You did it this time Ransom. You are a fuck buddy, and yet you take the whole thing quite literally don’t you.” You grab at your panties, shoving them on and then snatch your bra. “Fucked me over on the most important meeting of my life, I should have known better then to answer your fucking text.” You are ranting to yourself, searching for your skirt.

Ransom seems confused at your words, starting to follow you around. “You’re mad because of that job? I’ve told you a hundred times to come on as Harlan's assistant. He’s been looking for years and you would be perfect. Probably pay you better and you can come to my place more often.” His tone turned cocky while saying this, his gift to you apparently.

You pushed past Ransom without even saying anything, grabbing your shirt and shoving it over your head. “You sold me down the river now Ransom.” You grab at your heels and slip them on while reading the message on your phone sent back from your office. Basically telling you to get your ass in because the boss wanted to see you. Breathing out in defeat. “I hope you’re feeling happy now.” You drop it in your bag while he gives an exaggerated eye roll at you.

“Come on Y/N, It's not the end of the world.” He grasped your arm to stop you storming out, and you hiss at him.

“You don't get it Ransom do you, I worked hard for this, my whole fucking life. And I let you ruin it for me. I should be mad at you but it would be such a waste of energy on you. So I’m mad at myself more.” You look him up and down while wrenching your arm out of his grasp, and look up at him, committing him to memory, this exact expression of his. Signature sneer crossing his face that edged on his face with a smirk like he would fix this problem with the easiest way possible. It might have worked with another woman, one who thought that he ‘Loved Her’ but you were not fooled, there was no love between you. This was a way to scratch an itch. One that you needed to break away from. Now that the damage was done.

“We’re all done Ransom, I can’t keep doing this shit anymore with you. The consequences outweigh the benefits of sleeping with you.” You started towards the door and you felt him spin you around, pressing you against the door.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Kitten?” He sneered down at you, and when you tried to push him away, he slammed you back into the door with a dull thud. “You don't throw away a good thing Sweetheart.”

You catch your breath, the hard masculine body crushing against you was all too familiar, and up to his expression that looked like he had won you over. Now you always have a sneer in your smile Ransom, you thought to yourself, thinking you have actual control over me. Your hands planted against his chest, and his gaze darkened as you made him back away from you with resolve. “But wake up, Baby, You’re so totally deluded… I'm throwing away this good thing right now.” Turning away, you were quick to open the door and look over your shoulder. “Don’t bother fucking calling me anymore.”

With a quick snap out the door, as you walked down the five star hotel hallway, you heard Ransom rip open the door and poke his head out. “Don't worry about me calling you Kitten, not like you are the only lay I can get in this town.”

You didn't even bother answering as you stepped on the elevator. Your last sight of him was striding towards the elevator doors as they shut, staring back at him coldly as he shouted your name and the doors blocked him from you, now your reflection staring coldly back at you in the steel doors as the elevator brought you to the lobby.

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That would be the last time you saw him in a couple years. You ended up losing your job that day, and decided that it wasn't just Ransom you needed to change in your life, but all of it. You put out resumes all over New England and found someone to take over the lease to your apartment. Within a couple months from that night, you were moving out of the city and to a small suburb, house, lawn and everything. You went to work as a legal aide at a small law firm. Dates happened here and there, but you didn't let any of them get close in the way Ransom was. Eventually dating turned into a matter of convenience for you. You settled finally. A lawyer that chased after you for a while, Neil. He made an excellent lover and you two were comfortable, you even loved him in a way. Just like he loved you in a way. He had long hours, and you always traveled. It became a relationship of sorts for you two.

This evening you sat in the swanky Boston bar, another business trip for the firm, sipping from a second gin and tonic while scanning the room when you saw a sight you never thought you would see again.

One Ransom Drysdale came in with some slim waisted woman clinging to him, chatting away but you could tell just from the way he scanned the room that he wasn't even paying attention to her. When his gaze fell on you, his brows arched in surprise, but then they darkened and he whispered to his companion. When she split away towards a table, he strode over to you sitting at the bar.

“Never thought I would see you slumming in this part of town again.” He said slowly while waving the bartender over. “You look good Y/N.” He said in a matter of fact tone, and you raked a gaze over him. In the two years you hadn’t seen him, he barely changed. Still wore the high end clothes, and that camel colored coat that was so soft to the touch, that pinkie ring shone just a bit in the low light. “Another gin and tonic for her to.” in which your drink was switched out with a fresh one.

“Business Hugh.” You snipped out, catching him scowl at mention of his name. How you got a thrill knowing how much he hated it. “And you don't look bad yourself. Still living that trust fund life, it treats you good.” You thanked the bartender and sipped from the much stronger gin and tonic now, feeling the tendrils of heat curl in your veins from the alcohol.

“Well I will have you know not entirely a trust fund life now.” He remarked your words back to you while he leaned in closer, his hand sliding along your thigh in that all too familiar way of his. “I took over part of Blood Like Wine just to piss Walt off. But I enjoy it, and have been doing some writing myself with Harlan’s help.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, tilting your head towards him. “You actually got serious in life? I’m impressed.”

Ransom shrugged while twirling his glass, the bits of ice clinking in the glass. “Got bored, needed something to do Y/N.”

You laughed hearing him, and glanced over your shoulder. “Isn’t your date waiting on your Ransom?”

He looked over his shoulder at the woman he had come in with, shaking his head. “Nah, she will be fine. See, she already is eyeing up someone else.” He stated, watching as his previous date scooted over, letting someone sit in the booth with her. Ransom turned back to you and smirked, settling in comfortably next to you. “Guess we actually get to catch up.” You didn't send him away, in fact you two fell back into easy conversation talking about the past two years. The evening turned to night, and the bartender gave you two the cut off. Before you could excuse yourself to leave, Ransom reached out and caught your wrist to keep you from getting up.

“Looks like I'm free tonight, what do you say… one more for old times sake?”

You pondered his offer, the last swallow of gin and tonic was probably that last push as you glanced at your old lover. His eyes showed promise that it would be good, and you knew full well that he had every right to be cocky. Setting your glass down, you nod.

“Old times sake… but this is it Drysdale.”

You two escaped the bar, Ransom knowing the streets like the back of his hand. It was like the old days when you two messed around, familiar in the sense you knew that you two would hit the subway. You hated riding in the beamer around the city, and he was well aware of it. Teasing looks and touches were shared on the subway, once in a while a dirty kiss before splitting apart. “Fuck you taste good Kitten.” He muttered your old nickname against your neck as he sucked a mark against your pulse. “So addictive.” You hide a grin in against his shoulder hearing him.

The thing that ended up surprising you was when Ransom didn't pull you to one of your regular meetup Hotels, but an actual apartment building. “What is this?” You stalled as he hit the numbers in the pad on the side of the building to be let in.

“I moved into the city. Made more sense then having to travel all the fucking time.” Pulling you into the building and steering you to the elevator, he crowded into you once the doors shut on you two. Your head tilted back to let him skim those lips over your pulse once more and tug your ear between sharp teeth, needy fingers bunching under your sweater, and trailing fire against your skin till his touch turned into a press of fingertips biting into your curves. Your hands fisted in his cashmere sweater, brushing your face against the hard planes of his jawline, sighing in such a needy way, its been so fucking long since you’ve felt this. Felt that physical urge to just get lost in the most primal of ways.

You two crashed into the apartment, tugging at each others clothes and stumbling into the walls, pushing back and forth till you shoved Ransom hard against the hallway wall, rolling into him with a clash of teeth and hisses when his hand fist in your hair, pulling you away to march you two closer to the bedroom, his enormous body crowding you where he wanted you. “Come on Kitten, remind me how good that mouth was again.”

You didn't hesitate to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor and your hands twisted in his trousers to tug at the button and zipper, yanking them down his legs till he stepped from them. “Open.” Ransom demanded while wrapping his hand around his hard cock and jerked it while you looked up at him with a begging expression, you wanted it, him. You tongue fell out to accept his offering. Perhaps you should have felt shame at your desperate actions, at how easily you turned into a whore for Ransom. You had been in a committed relationship with Neil for six months, and here you were breaking it all for a man you sworn yourself from. Ransom was not gentle about taking you apart either, which you had craved his demanding nature the past two years. His cock pressed past your lips into your wet heat, making you widen around him till he hit the back of your throat making you sputter. You tried to pull away instinctively but he held you there for a few seconds till you relaxed. “Thatta girl Kitten.” Ransom praised and his hips started to thrust into your mouth.

“Fuck I missed seeing you like this.” He grunted as he moved your head back and forth, his hands digging into your scalp and fucked into your mouth. You clenched your thighs underneath yourself, wanting to hide that desire to grind into anything for the friction, completely growing wet with the way he just fucked your mouth how he wanted. You slurped on his cock, hollowing your cheeks to tighten around him, fluttering your tongue against that thick vein while he pressed your mouth to take more, and your nose ended up against the tight dark pubic curls, drool dripped down your chin to leave you ruined looking.

“Grinding yourself against your thigh Slut, I can see those hips moving.” He yanked you off his cock, your tongue darting to kitten lick the red tip while looking up at him as your hands rubbed up and down his muscular thighs while he jerked himself. Seeing he was close you tipped back further as his hold allowed, whining.

“Yes I am Ransom, fuck you for making me this way.” You whined out as you shifted your hips, rubbing your cunt as hard as possible against the back of your foreleg, wanting to get that fulfillment.

He squeezed himself slightly to keep from cumming and dragged you back to your feet, snapping a hand against your ass to get you moving “Then let's take care of that Kitten.” Your fingers dipped into your waistband of your panties shimming them down while Ransom grabbed palmfuls of your ass and ground his cock between your cheeks. “I got to get inside you…” He panted into the curve of your neck and as soon as you reached the bedroom, he pressed you against the dresser just inside the door. Pulling your ass out and his cock pressed between slick folds, pushing himself into you, both of you sighed in relief at the familiar sensation. You stretched around him till you were full of him, and him feeling you wrapped around him so tight, your cunt seemed to swallow him.

He took you from behind, rattling the dresser with each pounding thrust, his hands digging permanent marks into your hips in a ruthless way. A way you had missed, hard demanding ruts, banging your hips into the hardwood of the dresser and your hands tried finding purchase against the wood when he angled and found that sweet spot that only he seemed to be able to find. Making you keen his name and he snapped his teeth, clenching his jaw till the tendons of his neck strained with the power he was slamming into you.

“That was all it took to flood my cock, Kitten, you must be needy.”

You sagged against the dresser but he wasn't over with you yet, it had been years since he had you with him. Man handling you to the bed, you went to your back and he fell over you. Snapping kisses against the sensitive part of your chest to the tops of your breasts, his hand dragged your bra down, the bands straining and lifting your chest off the bed while you dug your hands into his hair, pulling it hard enough for him to moan into your skin and his teeth sink into the top of your breast.

“Ransom, no more marks.” You tried to stop him but he muttered something between the curves, drawing a swipe till he got to your nipple, latching on and pulling on it for it to swell.

“Yea yea, got a boyfriend you can’t let see.” He said in a joking manner as a hand moved underneath you to release your bra, and he shifted your hips to settle underneath him. You slipped your hands along his chest, and curled around his neck, shrugging a shoulder.

“Perhaps, just don't mark me up.” you snapped, and he smothered you again, lip biting kisses as he thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his slender hips, and pulling him in closer.

As his hips rocked into you, slower than before dragging himself back and forth, he lifted to his elbows, looking down at you as you bit your lip, pressing your head back. “What's his name?”

Your eyes spring open as your fingers dig into his back. “W-what Ransom?”

He pressed forward, pinning you into the mattress while grinding into you. “His fucking name Kitten, what is it?” This time when you look up at him, you can see his mouth set in a thin line, and ground himself into you, making you clench around him.

“Why does it matter?” your nails loosen slightly and drag down his back. “You never cared before.”

Ransom then blessed you with that signature smirk, and moved his hand to your throat to tighten, and tighten enough to make you gasp out, the move making you flutter around him. “Because Kitten.” His mouth lowered over yours, teeth sinking into your lip and tongue filling your mouth and stealing the last air from your lungs. “I know you, you will never be satisfied with settling down Y/N. It's not in you. These past two years, have you actually been satisfied like this.”

“A lot changes in those two years Ransom.” You gasped into his mouth, fighting him back now after his words, working your hips back to meet him with each thrust. “Oh better to be like you? Just fucking around. You’ll end up old and lonely without someone in your life.” Your tongue lapped at the roof of his mouth and your eyes rolled up feeling him splitting you apart.

“Come on Kitten, you're not telling me you didn't miss this? Us? You are all I have ever needed, you know that.” Ransom demanded, and you shuddered under him, cumming just then, his hand around your neck tightened all that much further while he chased his own ending this time. Pushing you up the bed till you both were buried in the pillows. Soon you felt him paint your walls, burying himself into you till his body crushed yours down into the mattress, your thighs quivering around his waist and you were panting against his shoulder, trying to catch your breath. He lifted his head to look down at you, a brow arched waiting for an answer. “So?”

Your fingers slid up his back and over his shoulders, staring back up at him, wrinkling your nose at him. “Why do you have to make this anything more then a good one last time fuck?” You pushed on his shoulders to turn him to his back and straddled him, covering his mouth. “Just shut the fuck up, okay?”

Ransom's teeth sank into your palm, while grasping your hips and lifting you to sink you onto him.

“Make me Kitten.” he hissed at you in challenge.

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It was early morning when you both were tangled around each other, the sheets pushed off the bed, and you were using Ransom more as your blanket, soaking in that post sex haze that made you all limp. He was half snoring in your hair and you were staring at the ceiling. You closed your eyes with shame and disgust with yourself, since you were going to have to make some lame excuse to Neil about why you didn't answer your phone. As well as why you weren't at your hotel last night.

“I can hear you thinking” Ransom groaned from above you, and you tilted your head up to see an early morning beard starting to prickle his skin, and you shifted to pull back, giving a bit of space while resettling yourself to face him properly.

“You asked me last night if there was someone. There is Ransom… we've been dating just about six months. And he’s a good person, a decent man.”

He rubbed at his face to open his eyes and be able to focus on you, still sleep laced as he spoke once more. “And Y/N? Why are you worried? It's not like we haven’t done this plenty of times, dating someone or not.”

You worried your lip, sighing with a shake of your head. “That hasn't been me since I moved, I left it all behind when I left Boston. But then you come right back, and I’m stupid enough to fuck around with you again. Am I ever going to get you out of my system?”

That made him smirk, and lean into you, kissing you dirty so early in the morning. “Now you're making yourself sound like one of those crazy bitches on the ID channel. Should I be worried about you?”

You snorted against his kiss, pressing him against his chest to make him fall back into his spot in the bed. “If you didn’t get a bullet in your head already after the last time, you should know you're safe.”

His arm circled around your waist, his thumb sweeping back and forth across the small of your back. “I'm glad I’m forgiven for last time Y/N. And this changes nothing that you do with whatever his name is.”

You reached forward and let your fingers trail along the planes of his pecs, feeling guilty, but not regretting it, not really. Ransom had always fulfilled something in you that no one else ever was able to.

“Yea I guess you're forgiven, although it was still a shitty thing to do. Come on, even you have to admit that Ransom. And his name is Neil.” You pushed to hear him admit he was in the wrong, and he rolled his eyes at you, sliding his hand to grasp an ass cheek and squeeze it in his palm.

“Did I just have to say that last time for you to forgive me Kitten? Cause fuck, two years is a long time.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, I fucking hated you back then. I would have still left, I’m just now tolerating you.” You pulled back and moved to sit up at the edge of the bed. “And now I gotta call Neil with some lie about where I was.”

Ransom moved to the other side, reaching for his boxers to slip on. “Just tell him you met up with an old friend Y/N.”

You pushed off from the bed and tugged the first shirt you found, Ransom's sweater while leaving the bedroom to talk to Neil. With luck, he didn't answer, and you just left a message to call you back and that you were safe, that you had met up with some old girlfriends. Glancing around, it occurred to you that Ransom really did live here, not just stay here on occasion. There was mail on the counter, books and manuscripts on the coffee table in the living room, and coats hanging near the door, an abandoned dirty coffee mug near the sink. You started to pick up the clothing you two had scattered through the apartment when Ransom came out, watching you for a moment while leaning against the wall.

“Reach the boyfriend?” He said matter of fact, which you straightened, and glanced back at him while folding some clothes and shaking your head.

“No, but I should probably get ready to go, I'm supposed to be driving home today.” you pluck at his sweater you're wearing and he strides across the room, his fingers sliding under your chin to lift your gaze back up.

“You know Kitten we will never really be done with each other.” He said, tilting his head. “Week from now, five years down the road, it doesn't matter when it happens again. So lose the guilt, it's not good for you. It's just the way it is.”

He was right, you knew he was right and part of you hated him for the fact that he was right. “After all, you don't get anything better than a Thrombey, Kitten.”

Fuck this man for having this hold on you.

Moodboard Prompt- The City

#uglywombat4kchallenge #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fic #knives out au #knives out fic #knives out #ransom drysdale au #amber writes #sweater writes

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bnhaficsforthesoul · 5 years

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What would Bakugou be like with a girlfriend that hugs him/ sleeps on him at night? Like even if she doesn’t do it intentionally she just always ends up laying on him and stuff. What would his reaction be like?

At first hed probably push you away

Cause he gets really hot at night and the extra heat is kinda annoying

But... he guesses it's kinda cute how he wakes up to you wrapping your arms around his chest and putting a leg over his, all with a small smile on your face

So... he allows it

Hell probably just sleep in less clothes (not that you mind) so that hes not too overheated, and he let's you

Hell start hugging you back too, so you'll end up cuddling all the time at night

Hed probably make fun of you a bit sometimes for it, or brag about it to others, saying how hes so irresistible that you cant get enough of him, even in your sleep

But he loves it honestly, and Its gotten to the point where he cant fall asleep without you next to him, he has to know that he can expect your cuddles throughout the night

Little scenario cause I thought this was cute:

Groggily opening his eyes, Katsuki sighed as he felt the bed shift as you scooted closer to him in your sleep. He stared at you, watching your body slowly make it's way over to him, attracted by the heat he gave off.

He turned onto his side as you came up right next to him, pulling you all the way into his chest. At least this way, he would be more comfortable than if he just let you flop yourself onto him and crush him with your arms - so he made sure to hold you instead.

He smiled as you nuzzled your face into his neck, and your arms made their way around his waist. He opened his legs so that you could twine them together, and you soon stilled. Katsu sighed again before breathing in your soothing scent, that of your shampoo, and he let his hands trail small circles along your back as he lulled himself back to sleep.

"Good night baby, sleep well."

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou headcanons #bakugou fluff

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childhood-number · 4 years

Text

it’s 1:17am

it was a good morning orchestrated by my little brother, full of living things.

around 5 pm i got home, my bubble fully invaded by talk of protests. hands washed i went straight into my room and cried until 6 pm. crying lately looks like crying, and then being dragged up onto my knees to get it out of me.

i ate dinner, and then got a phone call and walked my friend through what she needed. it felt good to be able to listen to someone deeply, and to give them what they needed. L was very surprised i pulled that out of me. maybe i didn’t have that energy to give.

standing in the kitchen today, at any time, resulted in me having to bend over, to hold the countertops, to get on my knees. it hurts like that.

i watched the protests on the news for a small while.

i was comfortably stable, more so when S let me know they were ok, until around 12am.

by 12:30 i said goodnights and i started crying in earnest. ive cried a lot during this period of time. but this time i was sitting on my bed in the dark, alone, and outside i could hear sirens and inside just felt so alone. and something in me started screaming and didn’t stop. “i do it for u i would do it for u the time i need it i cant have it every time every time i need it im not worth any of it i have to be restrained again i have to show restraint i can never just give in never never never i can’t do this i don’t want to exist i don’t want to exist i want to live but not like this i cant live like this i need to be touched i need to be safe i need this to stop i cant do this i cant do this i cant do this” full of images of black death and people in the street and having to worry with even more specificity and my head hurt and i cant say any of this.

i haven’t cried like that since i was small. (more and more in recent months it’s been crawling out of me through my mouth and i can’t stand up.) but i was sitting on my bed unable to make it stop. i tried narrating the good parts of my day to myself out loud. i tried counting. i tried humming. i tried holding myself the way i always have. i flipped through ppl i could call in my head, but it was late and ppl need rest. i sounded like a child. i was so loud, i wondered if i was waking my roommate. i had closed my windows so i couldnt hear the sirens, and i was overheating and hyperventilating. and i couldn’t stop. after fifteen minutes unable to calm my breathing, i called my dad.

i’ve never called my dad crying before and he almost immediately started praying. i cried harder. my roommate started knocking on my door super worried to see if she could get me anything. i asked my dad to tell me a story. i told L i was ok, which who knows. i hyperventilated on the phone for a while, eventually quieting as i focused on my dad’s voice. i got the electric kettle and filled it and turned it on in my room so i wouldnt be any louder. i sat at the end of my bed wrapped in my blankets and watched the water boil and listened to my dad talk abt the arms of god, and then on my floor in front of my books. my overhead light on at 1am, i filled my hot water bottle. my dad talked abt how i have immeasurable worth. we said goodnight. i decided i shouldn’t text anyone. i opened my window. i climbed into bed, putting hands on my phone, my stuffed cat, my tshirts, my hot water bottle.

now im sitting here. i want to go to sleep so badly, but im scared of nightmares, scared of distance, scared of crying again, scared of the never ending. wondering if i should just read or watch tv until i fall asleep.

i don’t think i have ever felt this badly before, as i do in general. i’ve never not wanted to exist like this. i feel so restrained and captive. my words, my body, my peace, my wellbeing, my love, my care, my interests, my security, my safety. the word is anguish, but saying that feels like an exaggeration.

i know what i want to ask for but i don’t ask for it. my eyes are heavy.

i want to talk to

i am so tired. it’s 1:45 am.

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okietokiee · 5 years

Text

Fic: Hjönk, Hjönk

Pairing: Skwisgaar Skwigelf/Toki Wartooth

Rating: M

I was really inspired by @picklespunchedme @bittebecca @sonderrbeee ‘s various fan art of clown!Skwisgaar 😳 thanks so much for letting me write a fic based on your gorgeous art!! 💕

Summary:

Skwisgaar makes some especially harsh remarks which cause Toki to start avoiding him, and the lack of contact is really starting to make the Swede’s sex drive go absolutely haywire.

Fortunately, Skwisgaar comes up with a genius (albeit horrifyingly embarrassing) plan to make it up to his hot-tempered boyfriend lover.

And Toki positively loves it. Perhaps a little too much.

——————

Skwisgaar knew he had fucked up.

After countless years of brutally harsh, biting criticisms and demeaning insults, Toki had finally had it. Normally he was able to take Skwisgaar’s comments, admittedly not always in a stride, but with minimal bloodshed (most of the time). And he wasn’t even completely sure what was different about today, about the disparaging remarks he’d grown used to throwing out daily.

Maybe it was the stress of having to record a whole knew album from scratch? The stress of the rising tensions becoming so goddamn obvious lately? He knows he’s not the smartest person around, but you’d have to be blind to not see the cracks forming in their band’s already fragile dynamics. He knows it’s not just affecting Nathan and Pickles.

But whatever the underlying causes were, all it took was an offhand, “That’s was fuckins dildos, dos it agains idiots,” during a slow-moving rehearsal to get Toki raging like a spoiled five-year-old kid told that no, he could not have candy for dinner.

After screeching and using his flying-V to destroy a fair amount of their studio and sound equipment, Toki had tired himself out and retired to his bedroom.

He’d also taken to avoiding him for the past week. And maybe the Skwisgaar from a few years ago wouldn’t have (outwardly) cared so much, but ever since they’d shared an earth-shattering, momentous night together just months before, they’d both been inhabiting the same bed for a majority of nights.

And, though Skwisgaar would rather die a painful death by firing squad than admit it to anyone, Toki had been the only person he’d been sleeping with ever since that night. He loathed to label it as anything serious, but that didn’t change the fact that he was painfully reluctant to break this surprising streak of faithfulness, his longest one yet.

However, regardless of how much he didn’t want to sleep with anyone that wasn’t a dopey Norwegian guitar player with a penchant for tantrums and hissy fits, that didn’t change the fact that his sex drive was going fucking haywire.

Storming into the Mordhaus living room, he irritably asked, “Has anyones seens our dildos rhythm guitarist?”

“Eh, I think he went out drinkin’ with thet clown again,” a stoned out Pickles mumbled from the couch.

“Whats!? I thoughts we puts a restrainings orders on dat creep!”

Nathan sighed from a nearby desk, putting down his book. “Yeah, we did. But you know that kid. He just loves those fucking clowns.”

That unfortunate string of words made an idea pop up in Skwisgaar’s head.

“…coulds you repeats dat?”

“I said he loves those goddamn clowns.”

“Nos, de odder words!”

Nathan glared, confused. “Those fucking clowns?”

Skwisgaar grinned manically. “Ja! Dat weirdos loves fucking clowns!”

Pickles could be heard potentially dying of laughter a few feet away.

Nathan narrowed his eyes, a disgusted grimace on his mouth. “I know you suck at English Skwisgaar, but ugh. That’s some brutal imagery.”

Skwisgaar, ever the trooper, did not let the revolting thoughts affect him, as his plan was coming to fruition in his mind. Yes, Toki was annoyingly fond of childish gimmicks, clowns included. Toki could never even stay mad at Dr. Rockso, an old drugged-up, strung-out rock-and-roll clown, no matter what shit that creepy asshole put him through.

Yes, he knew what he had to do. He didn’t like it one bit, and it could potentially ruin his reputation completely if word ever got out that he even considered this.

But…

Skwisgaar bit his lip, his thoughts suddenly full of brown whiskers and childish giggles.

It would be worth it.

——————

Hours later, Skwisgaar was regretting every single choice he’d ever made in life that had led up to this point. He felt like a fool and looked like one too.

His only solace was that the random klokateer he’d ordered to find him this costume was no longer capable of ever blabbing his secret to anyone, at least in any way that involved a functional mouth. Or hands.

And now he found himself pacing around Toki’s small room, waiting for the little dildo to get back home. The sound of his baggy blue and yellow pants swishing and the stomping of his large red shoes did nothing to alleviate his growing anxiety.

Skwisgaar scratched at his neck, careful not to smudge any of the meticulously applied clown make-up he’d taken an hour to perfect. He was vaguely grateful that his experience with corpse paint made this endeavor slightly easier, but also horrified at exactly how naturally circus make-up came to him.

As he was pondering his deteriorating mental state, he heard the door creak open and a surprised, ear-shattering, absolutely delighted squeal.

Toki crashed face-first into his chest, holding tighter than a newborn koala to its mother.

“Oh Odin! Yous a real cool clowns Skwisgaar!” Toki gleefully said, nuzzling the red ruffles around his neck.

Skwisgaar was glad his red cheeks were camouflaged by the blindingly white paint.

“Eugh… Ja, I guess I ams,” the Swede nonchalantly agreed, not meeting his lover’s eyes.

Toki paused from his snuggling, and gazed adoringly up at Skwisgaar’s embarrassed face.

“Skwisgaar… Dids you do dis because you know Tokis been mads at yous?”

Skwisgaar coughed awkwardly and avoided his gaze. “Maybes if a dumb dildos hadn’t beens avoidins me for sos long, it woulds not haves come to dis…”

Toki smirked. “Yous just proving Toki needs to do dat more often.”

“Fucks you-!”

“Okej,” Toki cut him off with a contented sigh, cuddling into Skwisgaar’s colorful, silky costume even more.

This was the closest they’d been in a week, and Skwisgaar’s body was responding rather excitedly to their close proximity.

Toki giggled, feeling the growing hardness coming from Skwisgaar’s loose trousers, and he pulled the Swede over to the bed and pushed him down, crawling right on top of him and going in for a deep, fervent kiss. With the right angle, Toki was able to avoid dislodging the bright red clown nose on his lover’s face.

With a few well-practiced maneuvers Skwisgaar was able to bring Toki down to only his underwear, but when he made movements to remove his own ridiculous clothes he was stopped by a firm hold.

“Nos, keeps it on.” Toki’s flushed, erotic expression was very convincing.

“Ja, fines…” Skwisgaar groaned, canting his hips up, desperate for any kind of friction.

Toki smiled, reaching for the lube that has been ever-present at his bedside table for the past few months. He took a moment to take in Skwisgaar’s smudged clown make-up and gorgeous, smoldering expression. The juxtaposition was disorienting.

“Skwisgaar…?”

“Ja Tokis?”

“Do yous maybe… I knows we havent’s dones it likes dis yet, but,” Toki mumbled, his face red and expression coquettish, “I think I wants to tries to take it.”

Skwisgaar was at a loss for words, his mind (and body) already overheating. So far Toki had been the only one topping, citing his lack of experience with men and dislike of being dominated as his main reasons for wanting to avoid switching positions. And Skwisgaar hardly cared, always being very satisfied by Toki’s eager enthusiasm.

But the thought of finally being able to become so wholly one with Toki had Skwisgaar’s head spinning and heart racing.

“Of course älskling, as long as yous ready,” Skwisgaar said, rubbing circles on Toki’s naked hips.

Toki’s eager nodding was answer enough and then he wiggled out of his underwear.

Skwisgaar leaned forward to get a hold of the lube, but Toki pushed him back down.

“Yous just watch for nows,” Toki murmured with a sweet smile, opening the lube to prepare himself.

Skwisgaar couldn’t handle watching a mewling, trembling Toki Wartooth preparing himself for long without feeling like he was going to literally explode into a cloud of confetti. The Swede pushed his own baggy pants down, not fully taking it off but exposing his painfully erect manhood. He moaned, giving himself a few strokes as he continued watching his lover teasing him.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, Toki stopped and got another generous dollop of lube for Skwisgaar Jr. before lining himself up on the Swede’s lap.

Skwisgaar watched enraptured as Toki slowly lowered himself down with a seductive whine and several sensuous movements of his hips.

“Ah, fuckins hell Toki,” Skwisgaar cried, thrusting up desperately.

Toki reciprocated in kind with more moans and wet, raunchy kisses, ruining a good portion of Skwisgaar’s make-up.

As it was getting especially intense, their movements both in sync and frantic, Toki leaned down and did something incredibly peculiar and, honestly, kind of hot, at least to Skwisgaar’s current fucked-out-of-his-mind state.

“Hjönk, hjönk,” Toki murmured with a smile as he squeezed the large, squeaky clown nose on Skwisgaar’s face with something akin to reverence. All without once pausing his fast, unmerciful pace.

Skwisgaar was too goddamn horny and in love to question this, and he just responded by increasing his thrusts as well as his volume.

“Ah, for the loves of Odins, Toki I’ms gonna-” he punctuated with a shout, feeling Toki tighten around him.

After a long moment of blissful euphoria for both of them, Toki collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily and sneaking a few affectionate kisses along his neck.

“So ams guessings you not mads anymore?” Skwisgaar snickered, running his fingers through Toki’s now tangled, sexily-ruffled hair.

Toki giggled and playfully gave Skwisgaar’s big red nose, which surprisingly hadn’t fallen off at all during their vigorous lovemaking, a few more squeezes, filling the small room with obnoxiously loud honking noises.

“Nah, buts if you does something like dis every time I gets mad at yous then I gonnas make sure to be angry evens more oftens.” Toki chuckled, snuggling up to Skwisgaar’s now cum and sweat stained clown costume.

Skwisgaar sighed, equal parts hopelessly exasperated and desperately fond.

“Wells enjoys it while yous cans you dildo, dis ams not likelys to ever, ever happens again,” Skwisgaar said firmly.

Toki grinned mischievously and lifted himself up.

“I thinks Toki cans change yous mind abouts dat,” he declared proudly, slipping out of bed to walk over to his nearby work desk. He leaned over it enticingly, ass up, giving Skwisgaar the most pornographic come-hither look the Swede had ever seen.

“Comes over heres and let’s me convince yous,” Toki murmured suggestively, giving his cute butt a little shake.

And that night was the first of many that the halls of Mordhaus were filled with the echos of passionate Scandinavian honking and lovemaking.

——————

I don’t think Hjönk actually translates to anything but god I love that word LOL

Also, sorry for any weird mistakes I didn’t catch! I’ll edit it and maybe add some extra stuff soon and then post it on ao3 :D

#about to board a 13hr flight and im glad i was able to post this first LOL #also im only a lil bit ashamed to admit that ya i totally get the clownkink toki probs has :')#metalocalypse #dethklok #mtl #skwistok #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #my fanfic #fanfiction #lemon #clowns

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language-of-love · 5 years

Text

this is his life now...

Summary: Honestly, I just needed to write something soft and it turned into a bit of smut... this is set a week after Singles Week and their first "I love you" declarations. (Read on AO3, Rated M, missing kisses series)

xxxxxxx

Patrick’s skin is nearly translucent as David traces the bluish-green vein beneath it with his finger tip, his thumb lightly rubbing back and forth along the soft inside of Patrick’s elbow. Patrick is still asleep, or at least doing a good job of pretending, but David doesn’t really care which is true. It’s too early to get up, with dawn barely breaking and the last of the evening cricket song just beginning to fade.

He’d protested the night before as Patrick had blown the air mattress up before fitting it into the bed of Roland’s truck. But Patrick had just smiled and told him to wait as he piled blanket after blanket on top, finally finishing with the fluffiest comforter David had ever seen. He’d begrudgingly admitted that the final product was indeed comfortable, but talking had quickly stopped being a priority as they both made the most of this precious time alone. His back has a minor ache from the activities they’d engaged in, but it’s a welcome thing, and so incredibly worth the lingering discomfort.

Roland will need his truck back in a few hours, but there are many minutes in those hours to savor and David plans to, even if that just means watching the sun come up with his naked body pressed against Patrick’s as he sleeps. The field they are parked in is at the far end of the Hockley Farm, an unused section the family never cleared that Patrick somehow got permission for them to camp in. It should make David uncomfortable knowing both Roland and Mr. Hockley know of this little excursion, but it’s a small town and just about everything anyone does gets spread far and wide within a matter of days anyway. So, he’ll just roll with it, too blissed out to honestly care, not when he knows there is no one about to burst into this moment to interrupt.

Patrick stirs, but only to tuck the arm David has been caressing into his chest, taking David’s hand with him. David smiles against Patrick’s hair as his hand is pressed against Patrick’s heart, the thump thump of his heartbeat drumming softly against David’s palm. It’s only been a week since David told Patrick he loves him, but fuck, he wants to declare it again now, feel Patrick’s heart race in response, say it over and over until the overwhelming strength of what he feels can be properly conveyed. He’s underwater with it all. Not drowning, but definitely submerged, but knowing he’s not alone in the depth of this thing is helping. Patrick had admitted something last night after they’d worn each other out, bodies still sweat slicked and breathing labored, that he’s been in love for a long time, biding his time until he couldn’t hold back the words from David any longer.

And the admission had brought David to tears, ripping apart that place inside of him that had been built to protect, that part that had wondered if he was just incapable of ever being truly loved. With a few simple, truthful words, Patrick had changed everything he’s ever known to be true. And then he’d kissed David’s tears away and healed him further with his mouth and his hands, rolling David onto his back to be cherished until the last embers of their campfire were carried off into the night.

It’s no wonder Patrick’s so tired now.

Curling even tighter against his back, David pushes his knee between Patrick’s thighs, bringing himself right up against Patrick’s ass in a way that has him stifling a groan. Patrick either still manages to hear it or perhaps can feel David hardening against him, as he’s scooting back, pressing himself further into David’s body. It’s like a shot of adrenaline the way David reacts, quickly sliding his hand free from beneath Patrick’s on his chest so he can spread his palm over Patrick’s belly, fingertips dancing against the light smattering of hair that leads to Patrick’s groin. His mouth finds the skin where Patrick’s neck and shoulder meet, sucking lightly until he feels Patrick dig his head deeper into the pillow under which David’s other arm is trapped, giving David better access to kiss as he pleases.

“Fuck…” he hears Patrick breathe, his spine stretching against David’s chest as David’s fingers slide further down, thumb barely brushing where Patrick is now undoubtedly aching to be touched. David’s hips rut forward on their own as soon as he takes Patrick in hand, unable to stay still even as he tries to focus on lavishing Patrick with the same kind of attention he’d showered David with the night before. Working him slowly, he licks at the skin of Patrick’s throat, his own breath heaving as Patrick begins to rock his hips in search of more. David is rock hard now, but tries to hold on through the delicious torture of Patrick’s ass rubbing against him with each thrust. Finding a faster rhythm with his hand, he lets his thoughts from earlier spill from his lips, whispering against Patrick’s ear how much he loves him, how good Patrick makes him feel all the time, and how badly he wants to make Patrick come. Patrick, ever aiming for perfection, does, his free hand reaching forward to brace against the side of the truck as his body is racked with the tremors of his release.

“Overachiever…” David mumbles, slowing his hand to a leisurely pull that falters as Patrick’s hip cants backwards again, trapping David’s erection against his belly with the upper curve of Patrick’s ass. He’s moving with purpose now and David is lost, quickly releasing Patrick’s now spent cock so he can grip his hip, angling them both just right to give him the friction he needs.

“Is this good?” Patrick asks, voice husky as it’s still full of sleep.

“So good. So...so...good.” David’s response is hard to get out as he’s careening on the edge, just needing the tiniest bit more. He gets it when Patrick lifts his leg an inch, letting David slide just close enough for the base of his cock to fit right into the crease of Patrick’s ass. They both moan at the same time, Patrick’s hand reaching back to dig into the flesh of David’s thigh as David thrusts hard. David moves his hand from Patrick’s hip to grip the inside of his elbow, fingers once again finding that soft skin as his release pulses in the space between his belly and the small of Patrick’s back. The moment is somehow more intimate and emotional than anything they’ve experienced, at least that’s how David feels, as tears gather in the corner of his eyes and he buries his slightly trembling lips against Patrick’s overheated skin.

He assumes Patrick must feel the same, as he’s turning in David’s arms now, eyes warm and full of love and passion as he lifts his chin and pulls David in to a kiss. David’s sure Patrick can taste the emotion he’s feeling, as his tears are gathering at the seam of their lips. But David wants him to know and just kisses him deeper, sucking in a shallow breath against his mouth as he rolls Patrick beneath him. He never could have imagined that some of the most sensual experience of his life would take place in the bed of Roland’s truck, but that’s just the way his life is now. So he just leans in. Or embraces joy as his mother would say. And there isn’t anything more joyful than kissing the man that he loves as the sun makes its slow climb, waking the birds to sing their morning songs.

Nature is only beautiful for so long, though, as insects David has never seen before come to investigate and the need for food becomes impossible to ignore. He shrieks as the cold water in Patrick’s campfire shower-in-a-bag thing hits his skin, but when he looks down and sees tiny lovebites on his belly and on the inside of his bicep, he smiles and makes quick work of rinsing himself off. Patrick does the same and they gather the rest of their things and head back into town. Roland gives them a truly inappropriate smirk when he takes the keys for his truck from Patrick, but David just rolls his eyes and takes Patrick’s hand to drag him away.

David crowds Patrick against the side of the motel around the corner from his room and kisses him soundly, letting his hands roam over the now clothes covered skin he’d worshiped all night and into the morning. It’s only the knowledge that a member of his family or Stevie could turn the corner at any moment that stops him, leaving Patrick with a smile so wide David can still see it through his windshield as he pulls his car out of the parking lot to head back to Ray’s.

So this is what being loved feels like, he thinks to himself as he leans against his hotel room door and watches Patrick’s car disappear around the corner.

But then he’s falling inside as Alexis swings the door open and he’s stumbling to the floor and she’s laughing at him as she jumps over his body so she can start her morning run.

This is his life now.

And even sprawled out on the floor of this ratty ass motel, he’s really fucking happy about it.

#david x patrick #david rose #patrick brewer #schitt's creek #schitts creek #my sc fic #david x patrick ff #missing kisses #this is basically some PWP y'all #sorry not sorry #this is his life now

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tumblunni · 6 years

Text

Fuckinghell i got to That Part in USUM and it was even worse than i expected

Kfuckinh fuck i alreadyhated lusamine cos i hadan abusivemum like that in real life but this time i wanted to fucking stab her actual eyes out with my thumbs! How can a bad writing flub trigger such a huge ass panic attack in me!! Am i really that pathetic!! God im just sitting with my face in a fan cos im overheated as fuck i was all fight or flight mode just about hitting the A button and knowing the next scene i get will be Somehow Lusamine Was Right, in the place of the execellent callout scene lillie got in the original. So much actual detailed analysis of child abuse and now NOPE ITS OKAYMOMMY HURT U FOR A GOOD CAUSE

And what i hate so much is that they didmt even completely rewrite it! This isnt even an 'alternate universe story' where lusamine was a good mom, which would already be problematic in context but at least there'd be an excuse for it. Nah instead they just left in all the foreshadowing leading up to her being abusive and all the scenes of her being a fucl but just at the last second its ok cos something something necrozma.

Things that are still canon in this universe:

lillie and gladion ran away from their mother and nearly died on the streets and all that

Lusamine still controlled how much they acted and looked and etc that lillie has anxiety over picking her own damn clothes in a shop (and gladion mentions the same in an optional dialogue that also wasnt removed)

"Oh no its a big reveal that aether foundation is evil and working with team skull and they kidnapped lillie and now u have to fight thru an entire foundation full of evil murderous adults and also faba the fuckmeister supreme"

Lusamine wants to murder cosmog to open an ultra wormhole and laughs about it

Lusamine has an entire fuckin secret room full of pokemon corpses preserved in ice so they'll 'stay beautiful and never disobey'

Lusamine tells her kids theyre disgusting for disobeying her and she doesnt love them and never did and also they are selfish cunts for daring to want to be not abused

Then she fuckin attacks them, and you fight

Fuckin ALL THEY CHANGED was that at the end shes like 'but i do it cos necrozma bad and i was really save world'. And the writers seem to think that this somehow justifies her actions rather than just making her an equally evil equally abusive person who just has a dumb knight templar reason for why she thinks she's in the right. Like maybe you could say this would make her more redeemable in the end, i guess?? Like if she actually had a proper redemption plotline you could use this as a springboard to jump off in order to create that plotline. That she was once good and her evilness is a very specific sort of 'murder and hate is justified because my purpose is so important' kind of thing, which should honestly have led to her personality being entirely different and written entirely different. But you still actually have to write a redemption route! Shes not just suddenly good because she has a motive for being evil! And shes not even as redeemable as the other villain bosses, if we only hear about her 'good reason' AFTER we see her do everything evil! And her evil is so much more personal than the other bosses! Like maxie and archie were still likeable eveb before their VERY EXTENSIVE AND WELL WRITTEN redemption plot, because their evil plot was abstract and nonsensical ('destroy world') rather than actual detailed real life crimes to characters we care about. Abd very manipulative and deliberate ones! Maxie and Archie had it established very early on that they THOUGHT what they weredoing would improve the worls even if it was obvious they would actually destroy it. Lusamine didnt abuse her kids accidentally or because of a mistake, the only way she thought she was doing the right thing is that she thought her kids were ungrateful evil fucks who deserved being hurt because they MERELY WOULDNT OBEY HER EVERY WHIM! And we see this from the perspective of the kids who are very much just goddamn innocent kids and very much show actual realistic ptsd symptoms and relateable stories of abuse. So yeah lusamine already starts at a higher tier of villainy that would require more redemption than archie and maxie, even if you can technically say 'maybe her plan to beat necrozma via pet murder and child abuse might actually work'. (Or, in the origonal, that technically her plan was just to fuck off to another dimension of obedient mindless slave jellyfish and never come back, which is technically less wprld damaging than the hoenn guys.)

And just MANNNN what i really hate is that they didnt remove anything except like.. The parts where you sympathise with the kids. I feel like the scene of lillie at the clothes shop early on and the dramatic break in to aether paradise were just left in out of laziness more than anything. Like theres a lot of stuff that seems 'oh we have to do that cos thats how it went last time, but lets half ass it and rewrite the dialogue shorter and rush to my New Bits'. I feel like if someone played this first before sun and moon then half of the plot wouldnt make sense! But why did they choose to leave in just enough that it made lusamine still look like a monster, if she never gets her comeuppance!!!

And man i really fucking hate how they rewrote lillie and gladion during the big plot swrrve into LUSMINE HAD GUD REASONS 2 DO THE THING. Lillie says barely anything and gladion is suddenly all 'please stop because I CANT LOSEYOU ASWELL AS DAD, MOM' not fuckin please stop because you are murdering nebby and you just told me you dont love me. Andthen hebegs her to take him with her to fight necrozma becauseits type null's destiny to be a beast killer?? When just five seconds ago hehad unchanged dialogue about how he saved type null becauze he saw it was born and raised to be what its 'parent' wanted it to be, just like how lusamine abusively raised him. Like fuckin entire story about him escaping to be himself and give this lil frankendog a chance at a real normal life, just WHOOOSH right over the new writer's head...

And then THE FUCKIN WORST BIT is that they kept the same scene of lillie sleeping in lusamine's bed but changed all the dialogue to just 'i'll sleep here' *scene ends* rather than 'i remember when i used to sleep in her bed after nightmares when i was like five and thats the last time i can remember that it felt like she actually loved us, i need to sleep here again to say goodbye and steel myself to fight to save the world next time we see her'

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha nuance what is that complexity who is she never heard of her

Fuck that scene was so relateable cos thats literally what i did the day before i ran away from home.fuck you for removing it.

Fuck this game really is like a weirdass rom hack some other guy did of a game he didnt understand. It at least makes me feel better to know it was directed by a different team and isnt considered the 'final full version' like platinum and emerald and stuff. I felt practically gaslit when i was tryong to reconcile the idea someone could write a complex analysis of child abuse and then unwrite it as if it was never important. Was it never really intended to be abuse at all and i was just imagining it?? But nah no its just someone else handling the expansion pack for a game and turning it into an 'alternative story' with his different lame motiveless Bad Legendary villain cos somehow he didnt think the original was good enough. Fuck, it was the most emotional most terrifying villain boss of all time, fuckin geez what is wrong with you!

GUZMAAAA WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUUU

oh yeh did i mention that also Still Exists but the npc thats implied to be his abusive dad has his dialogue slightly rewritten to be 'my kid ran away on a pikemon journey and beat me' not 'i beat my kid but he beat me back'

God fuck u fuck this fuck EVERYTHING what goddamn motives do you have for removing a goddamn How To Spot Child Abuse manual for kids in game form. THIS ENTIRE PLOT WAS SO IMPORTANT IF I SAW THIS AS A KID I WOULDNT HAVE TRIED TO KILL MYSELF

gahhhahahahhhhh

#bunni struggles through usum #man but ive seen the vids of the new director and the old dorector goofing around in interviews and they seem to be friends?#so man i feel bad being mad at him #i bet it was probably more like just laziness in rewriting a new story and npt understandong the accidenatl implications #rather than deliberate censorship or clusamine was right' messages #ehhhh #just please dont do this again pokemon #this is the worst thing pokemon has ever done and it made me want to quit playing way more than any amount of 'bad icecream pokemon' ever #im like wow why did i ever complain about anything else before this

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italy2019ab · 5 years

Text

July 24

Today was one of those travel days again; at least it was the last travel day of the trip. Today started off great and slowly went downhill from there. The day started of with a hour and a half bus ride to Pisa. I was looking forward to this stop all trip. After taking multiple pictures with the Leaning Tower of Pisa, David, Ben and I went to a sandwich restaurant. This is where the downhill trend started. Ben and I got the Tuscan Raw Sausage and it tasted amazing, but then we were debating on if the meat is actually edible, since the sausage felt and looked raw. Ben and I ate half of it and threw out the last half because it didn’t feel right to finish it. Then we left Pisa and started driving towards Abano Terme, just outside Venice. The smaller bus overheated and all 16 of them had to join us, with their luggage. It was a very tight squeeze, but we somehow all fit into one bus. After an eleven hour day on the road we finally got to the hotel. The fun didn’t stop there, we had class at 10:15pm that night. After the exhausting day of travel I needed a good night sleep. But right as we came back from class David, Dimitri and I noticed that our room was burning us alive; it was so hot in there. That night I slept happily ever after- with no sheets on. I cant wait to get back to my air conditioned room and sleep in my own bed.

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kneekeyta · 7 years

Text

hiii guys! Um, so I forgot this existed so yeaaaa Its just a short excuse for smut really, that’s about it. enjoy?

A/n: Rinn are somewhere in their 20′s (can’t remember all the details I had for this fic so just pick what you like xD)

Forever tag list: @nemo-miraclegrow-blog grow @areyousad8118@thisissomefreshbullshit @luckyemcee@mmfdiaryfan @murderyoursoul @kristicallahan @irish-girl-84 @sey77@bebelievelive @justagirlnamedkayla @i-love-mmfd@anitavalija @stephlostctrl @milymargot@busstop @pink-royaute@lolflash @youmehellofarollercoasterride@curvygirlonabudget @inneedofamoralcompass @paleasalabaster@mmfdfanfic @mallyallyandra@lethallylauren @finnleysraemundo@pissingonursoul @losingpudge @bitchy-broken @audisodd@audisodd @darlingdiver @fantasticab @celestev31 @rinncincin@tinakegg @ducky17 @katywright340 @bitcheslovebeck@raernundo @nutinanutshell @cant-getno-sleep @courtkismet@omgbananasnailus @i-dream-of-emus @guyoverboard@anglophileyoungblood @swooningfangirl @bitchesbecrazy89@chrryblsms @girlwithafoxhat @annemarieted @sammylbc@sarahlouise88ni @how-ardently @idontliketalkingtoanybody@mmfdblog @phoenixflower413 @penguinsandbowties@fizzezlikecherrycola @fangirlwithoutshame @africancreativity@alyssaloca @llexis @thatfunnygirllauren @cheersmedear@14000romances @rred87 @nirvanalove27 @takenbyatree @im-an-emu @shashaaussi @mirandasmadeofstone @lililuvlight @flxwxry@slitherouter @saracasm25 @becauseyouarestrong @malvaloca93@happyfrasers @vmellow @scumothaearff @wandering-soul-7@hewittgolightly @emmatationsforall@ninjarunningzico @arcticoasisboy @milllott @rafaellabnery @endemictoearth @blackfeministagenda @queenasfuccck @lilaviolet@dianasaurousrexxx @kathhumphreysx @eighty-sixcharlie@flirtmcgirt @nenita1978 @crystalgiddings1993 @girl-looking-out-window @facephase @blobwithagob @freyasfrench @freyasfrench@borntochaos@likeashootingstarfades @isthistherightwayround@toseeyou-again @emu4ever @carpe-libris @voodoomarie@keisernerosmom @you-are-world-class-i-mean-that@cosiquellocheora @protectfinnnelson @stinemarine @rhi3915@lovinglifeandlivinglove @caitlinmaddyx @lizzylizard84@redprairielily @look-how-they-shine-love @annaplantain@everythingilove-blog @lau-vm @absolutelynotnico @mmfdftw@kingbeeyonce @chelsealorine @jackiewalsh2013 @karinskyme@spreadsomepositivity @justthegoodgirlsreject @tipsylou84@towongfu2 @lily-pop-2 @fuck-sewing-machine @parisgirly93@raeonashadowcaster @rockinthebeastmode @servethecitymke@eveerez (@arathewallflower did you wanna be tagged I can’t remember? lol) @hey1tskat1e as always please let me know if you would like to be added or removed. xD

Woman

His fingers are digging into her fleshy hips, itching to smooth around for more. Maybe, sneak a hand up her short little skirt if he’s lucky. The way he’s pressed against her, hot and heavy, his dick hard and pressing into her ass, as they dance. It’s not even dancing really, it’s more like a slow fuck, grinding against each other with hot panting breaths. He can’t help but mouth at her exposed neck. He feels her low moan as he sucks on her pulse point. She leans her head into him, one of her hands moving to wrap around the back of his neck, her body pressing further into his.

He takes his chances and moves his right hand across her belly slowly and inches down, he can feel the contraction her stomach makes and he pauses for only a second before continuing south. She moves her head away once his fingers touch her silky smooth skin; he plays with the hem of her skirt, and she presses her lips to his in a hard kiss. He takes this as his cue and slides his hand under skirt, and as his fingers touch the damp material of her panties, his tongue is invading her mouth.

He’s about to push her panties aside when she suddenly pulls away and turns pressing her front to him. She presses her lips back to his, and he continues what he was doing. Her tongue sliding across his, as he sneaks his hand back up her skirt. He gets her panties pushed aside, and glides two fingers over her wet clit before sliding them inside of her, as deep as he can get.

Her kiss stutters to a pause and she’s just panting into his mouth and he can help but smirk into it. She clings to him, her fingers gripping the hair at the back of his head, while her other hand focuses on digging into his back. He slides his two fingers slowly in and out, but mostly he concentrates on rubbing against the spot that makes her breath hitch. She clenching around him and he wants to bring her over the edge but she makes a small noise in protest.

She gulps and her eyes open, they’re blown black and glossy, “Not here,”

He nods and removes his fingers from inside of her but brushing them over her clit once more, which causes her to grip onto him and moan, “Bastard,” she huffs.

He can’t help but grin wolfishly at her. He takes her by the hand and pulls her through the crowd of sweaty bodies dancing to the techno music blaring through the club. Stepping outside into the cool air, he wastes no time guiding her to his car.

She wouldn’t have ever guessed this how her night would have turned out. But she surmises she could have easily guessed once she noticed him watching her dance. Then, finally when their gaze held that one second longer she knew she was done for.

His smirk was slow and dangerous, and the way his body grinded into hers felt like a languid fuck. She couldn’t get enough of the way he mouthed at her neck, couldn’t get enough of his scent, it was intoxicating. And then when she felt his fingers slip between her legs she knew there would be no coming back from this.

She had been so close but it almost felt wrong to come amongst all the other people, though she barely remembered that they were in near public, it was hot and dirty but she wanted, she needed more.

Getting into his car he immediately placed his hand on high on her thigh, lightly rubbing and squeezing.

“Mine okay?” he asked, his voice thick.

“Is it close?” was her response becoming impatient.

“Yeah,”

“Perfect.”

The ride was relatively silent, the air thick and the anticipation building. It continued until they were inside his flat. But once he shut his door they were pulled together like magnets. Grabbing anywhere they could and kissing messily. She angled him so he was pushed up against the door and slowly slid her hand down the front of his body until she came into contact with his hard-on.

She mouthed at his neck, sucking and licking, as she teasingly squeezed his cock.

“Your dick has always been hard for me.” She says matter-of-factly, smirking against his throat.

“You know it.” He pants.

“I do, so let’s do something about it.” She mumbles, giving him a tight squeeze.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

She drops to her knees and looks up at him, his eyes are closed and he’s breathing heavily. Taking her time she unbuttons his jeans and zips down his fly. She pulls his jeans down to mid-thigh, and then he looks at her.

They hold each other’s gaze for a beat, and then she is pressing her mouth against his covered cock. She mouths slowly his hand coming to rest on the back of her head. She smooths her hands along his thighs as she teases him, she can feel he’s slight damp because he’s so turned on.

“Fuck.” He mumbles, his hips stuttering forward when she mouths at his covered tip. After a few seconds she smirks, feeling proud of how she is making him come undone and decides to go for it.

She hooks her fingers into the band of his boxer briefs and slides them down just enough to meet his jeans where they sit. His cock is hard and leaking, looking up at him, his mouth is parted slightly, she leans forward and just barely licks his slit.

“Mmmm” he moans, his grip tightening on her.

She smirks around the head of his cock, before giving it another few kitten licks. Then finally she wraps a hand around the base, and begins to suck the tip into her mouth.

“Holy fuck,” he whisper shouts.

She takes as much of him as she can manage without choking, she tongues at the head and she feels his legs shaking, as she pumps her hand faster on up and down his shaft. His thumb slips inside her mouth and she looks up at him, he looks entranced by the way she is sucking his dick.

She sucks for only a few more moments and then he’s muttering, “I’m close,”

Assuming he didn’t want to finish that way either she stands. They start to immediately undress each other, a trail of clothes following them to his bedroom.

Before she knows it she’s laid out in the middle of his bed with the tip of his dick pressing into her.

In the morning he wakes up feeling overheated. He shifts in the bed and that’s when he feels the warm body beside him. Opening his eyes his eyes he panics a little, its Rae. How could he forget for a second about what he’s thought about for so long? She’s curled into him, her head resting on his outstretched arm, one hand resting on his chest and her legs tangled in his. He can’t help but smile to himself.

“Stop staring at me. It’s weird.” She mumbles.

He can’t help the small laugh that escapes him, her eyes open and he feels like his heart speed up with anticipation for the conversation to come.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Few minutes,” he replies, wanting to cuddle into her or cuddle her closer while he kisses her good morning before offering her some breakfast, but he pushes the feeling down.

“So, last night,” she begins with a small smile.

“Yeah,” is all he can think to say because even though she is smiling he’s not sure how she is feeling.

“I think,” she says but pauses to move closer to him, so she’s resting her chin on his chest looking up at him.

“What?” he mumbles.

“I think that I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” he responds immediately so she knows.

“Oh, I know,” she gives him a cheeky smirk, “And I know that I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance.”

He smiles but his stomach drops a little because as much as he loved the sex he’s always wanted more with her. Ever since he first spoke to her he had a good feeling about her, that they would be good together. He’d only every asked her out once, that was two months after they first met when he finally had enough and needed to bite the bullet, she had let him down gently, but they still flirted constantly with each other.

“I can see you’re thinking, what are you thinking?”

“Just…” he begins wondering how to say what he wants to say.

“Only a repeat performance?” he asks, his eyes searching her face for something.

“Or y’know…several.” She says.

He sighs, “Right…it’s just that—“

“You want more?”

“Yeah,” he admits.

She’s seems to be thinking for a moment and then she is smiling, and leaning up to press her lips against his soft and quick.

“Me too.” She mumbles pulling back.

“Really?” he says as his heart starts to pound.

“Yeah, I always have, was just being daft.”

“For nearly seven months, Rae!” he laughs.

“I know…I just..I don’t know…wanted to see if you were serious.” She offers.

“Well, how did I do?” he asks pulling her in closer.

“You did very well,”

“I don’t know why you’d think I wasn’t deadly serious about wanting to date you.”

“It wasn’t you exactly. It was some other dickhead I do not want to think about. I just wanted to be cautious this time. Why do you think I never came over here?”

He shrugs, and she pinches him, “Finn..I didn’t want to be tempted.”

“What happened last night then?”

“I said ‘fuck it’ basically,” she grins toothily and his heart sores.

“I can already tell you that I’m all in on this.”

She kisses him again and mumbles, “I know, and me too.”

And they stay all in for several years to come.

The End!

also I didn’t have a name for this (Well I did but I didn’t think that, “Finn fingering rae in a club after months of pining’ was suitable) So, I just named it after one of Harry Styles new songs cos I can. hehehehe!

Also, this was complete, so I’m not sure when I may post again. sorry if I might be getting any hopes up.

I think the reason I kinda forgot about it was because I was shaky on the ‘plot’ part and ending so yeah...

#mmfd fanfic #mmfd fanfiction #my mad fat diary fanfic #my mad fat diary fanfiction #mmfdfanfic

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fictionalrat · 7 years

Text

let it happen | chapter 4

read on ao3

9:40 A.M.

Lance saves the document, closes it, stares at his laptop desktop image until his eyes start to sting, groans in frustration, and slams his laptop shut. Puts it aside. He crosses his arms like a petulant child, he chews on his bottom lip, his eyes roam around his room.

He watches as the wind plays lazily with his curtains, making their shadows dance, swaying back and forth.

Something moves in his peripheral vision. He rolls his head to the side, fingers hovering over the keypad. The sight that meets him makes him pause, his fingers freeze, Keith looks so peaceful, he looks almost… ethereal. It’s kind of disturbing, yet mesmerizing at the same time.

Keith’s pale face glows a tender hue under the morning light, the sun tinges his chapped lips a deep pink, the scar under his left eye looks almost translucent.

Keith’s so… unfairly beautiful.

He catches himself tracing down the slopes of Keith’s face, the lines of his jaw, the curve of his upper lip with his eyes like a piece of chalk on canvas. He’s never seen something quite this stunning before in his life (granted, he’s only 22, but that’s beside the point), if only he knew how to draw like Keith does.

Lance can’t take this, his heart’s too weak.

He wants to bury his face in Keith’s ruffled hair, wants to breathe him in, wants to have him in his arms, wants to touch, but he seems so out of reach like this. Lance curls his fingers into fists, aching to touch. He restrains himself from charting pale, fading freckles down with his fingertips.

It… it’s very distracting, is what it is.

Keith scrunches up his nose, grumbles and throws an arm over his eyes. Lance’s breath catches in his throat.

Lance… Lance is fucked, he knows he’s fucked, he already knew that then (when Keith suggested this… arrangement), he knows that now, he’s known that for some time now, but it never fails to catch him by surprise. This… feeling never fails to overwhelm him. He fucking hates this… whatever this is, he has no fucking word for this… feeling. It claws at his throat, it kicks him the gut, it scorches his heart, it clenches his heart in a death-grip, it steps on it, it rips his heart apart.

Lance covers his face in his hands and rubs, groaning in frustration. This is ridiculous. He forces himself to look away, and focuses on drilling a hole into the wall with the force of his glare instead, running his tongue over one of his canines.

Do not distract yourself with cheesy rom-com bullshit, bitch, he scolds himself, Write. Yes, writing is good. Stressful, but good. Go back to writing. Avoid contact. Don’t look. Avert your eyes. Work. You’ve got work to do, so do it.

After about five or so minutes of glaring despondently into fucking space and hating himself for being pathetic, he does. He’s always been good at taking all his frustrations on his writing.

He pulls his laptop into his lap, opens it, double taps, and the document appears on the screen. The cursor blinks curiously at him, he blinks back, and sighs. He starts scanning it for typos, and corrects them, all the while grumbling about how fucking stupid he is, and how fucking stupid all those mistakes were.

He adds some of the worst expletives in big, bold and italic capital letters next to shitty, weird ass sounding paragraphs that don’t ever seem to get any better, even after rewriting them seven thousand three hundred and eighty-four fucking times. Doesn’t matter how many times he tries, how many times he bangs his fists on the keyboard, how hard he hits the keys, the words don’t ever seem to come out quite right.

Rinse, lather, repeat.

“¡BESA MI CULO, PUTO!” He snaps at one particularly dumb typo, and deletes its whole sentence out of spite.

Keith stirs, and groans next to him, turning his body towards Lance. Lance tenses, holding his breath and sitting very still until he’s super sure, 100% Keith won’t wake up. Keith sighs obliviously in his sleep, and turns on his stomach. Lance lets out a relieved breath, closing his eyes.

He snaps them open and shakes his head in frustration, “No seas tonto, Lance.”

He hits ctrl-z and skips the paragraph entirely, jumping to two paragraphs bellow, he reads it and gasps, “¿Qué carajo? Who wrote this? A fiveslgfjdjdfds.” A hand lands on the side of his face with a smack, smooching his cheek. Lance screams, - of course he does, how could he not. - and almost falls off the bed.

“SHUT YOUR ROTTEN MOUTH, I’M TRYING TO SLEEP,” Keith growls at him, voice raspy, and low, and terrifying. Even muffled by the pillow and drowsy, his voice doesn’t lose its aggressive edge. What the fuck.

Lance, after recovering his soul, turns his head so he can stare at Keith with raised brows, and huffs, “Hella lot of words coming from a sleeping person, I’d say.”

Keith groans and lifts his face off the pillow, glaring at him through squinty eyes, “Shut that fucking trap, you moldy piece of bread, or get out.”

“This is my fucking room, Keith,” Lance sputters, snapping his laptop shut for added effect, “you get out.”

“I’M SLEEPING, PISS OFF,” Keith kicks at Lance’s leg with enough force to bruise.

“OW! CAREFUL WITH MY COMPUTER, YOU BRUTE!”

Keith grumbles, turning his back to Lance and covering his head with Lance’s comforter. He curls into a ball, shutting Lance out.

Lance relocates his grumpy ass to the couch after flipping an oblivious, snoring Keith off.

He loves the guy, but damn, can he be an asshole so-

…Wait, did he just-

Oh, hell no.

10:34 A.M.

stud muffin so………….. do i even wanna know? probably not, but you’re gonna tell me anyway pidge, cover ur eyes

pidgeotto shut up hunk im not 5 GIVE ME DA DEETS LANCE

space boi lance AWWW MAN MY DUDES MY BROS MY PALS MIS HERMANOS

pidgeotto oh boy here we go…….. im regretting this already

space boi lance SHUT IT BIRD TURD anyway where was i before i was so rudely interrupted??? ah yeah OH MY GOD MY DUDES hes a screamer KEITH KOGANE OUR KEITH IS A SCREAMER ITS LIKE AAAAAA GUYS boi so thicc too goddem cant wait to have him up my ass honest such a nice dick 11/10 reallygreat work of art grade a AND DAT ASS!!!!!!!! GUH SO FUCKING SMOOTH he looks really nice when hes sleeping too so soft i want to chomp on his cheeks ughhhhhh how can he be so perfect its so unfair im swooning i swear to GOD he looks hot even when hes kicking me out of my own room which UNFAIR

A facebook notification pops up at the top of his phone screen in the middle of his rant.

Hunk Garrett tagged you in a post, it says.

Lance arches an eyebrow, “Huh.”

He taps it open.

Hunk Garrett is listening to the less i know the better, by tame impala i’d like to dedicate this song to my good pal Lance Martínez you know /why/ Pidge Holt and 5 others

Pidge Holt HOOOOOO BOY THE BURN THATS Y UR MY MAIN HO HUNK I LOVE U

Matthew Holt lol babe look at The Shade Takashi

Takashi Shirogane Ah yes, that is indeed The Shade Of It All *scratches chin* Lance Martínez shiro i love u but dude ure embarrassing get off the internet Matthew Holt dont trash talk the baby lance Matthew Holt he’s sensitive Matthew Holt (ure adorable babe) Takashi Shirogane I take offence to that Lance Takashi Shirogane No more dog memes for you Lance Martínez NOOOOOO DAD NOT THE DOGGO MEMES Takashi Shirogane ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Pidge Holt ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Hunk Garrett ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Matthew Holt ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Lance Martínez u guys are absolute TRASH

Lance Martínez the WORST I TELL U WORST

Lance Martínez I NEED NEW FRIENDS ASAP

Pidge Holt awwwwwwww lance i love u too Pidge Holt u can tell me everything later i’ll allow it Pidge Holt bring food Pidge Holt and redbull Pidge Holt tons of redbull Lance Martínez ure… ugh Lance Martínez i hate u Lance Martínez u tiny bird turd Pidge Holt URE tiny Lance Martínez GASP U TAKE THAT BACK Pidge Holt ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Hunk Garrett ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Matthew Holt ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Takashi Shirogane ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Allura Ourania ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Lance Martínez LULU NOT U TOO Allura Ourania ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

11:35 A.M.

He’s avoiding the huge ass, one-sided, and glittery elephant in the room, he’s avoiding the fuck out of it. He’ll avoid the fuck out of it until it goes away, until it disappears for good, until it goes to fucking hell, until it’s burning in the fifth circle of hell.

He has no time for this.

This project is worth 40% of his grade.

His prof’s a mad man, yeah, but that’s how it is. He won’t flunk this class just because he can’t control his feelings.

He can’t, won’t, jeopardize his project just because of fucking feelings.

¡No, de ninguna puta manera!

He needs a shower.

And a joint.

And coffee.

Tons of coffee.

But a shower first, then facials, then weed, then coffee.

Tons of coffee.

He’ll also down a shot of tequila, because he’s feeling adventurous.

(Reckless, he means reckless.)

1:45 P.M.

Lance’s minding his own business, stirring his way into his fifth?? possibly, probably, he’s not sure, cup of coffee, and stuffing his face with ham and pineapple pizza rolls in the kitchen after smoking a whole joint by himself in the bathroom, when he hears it. It is terrifying. A dull thud reverberates through the apartment, echoed by it; the most earth-shattering, ear-splitting shriek he’s ever heard.

“LANCE!”

He freezes, his heart plummets.

His spoon drops and clatters on the floor.

“LANCE, YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD,” the deity roars.

Lance squeaks like a fucking mice, and squats, hiding behind the counter.

Run. Pack your things and go, get out of town. Flee to Europe, change your name-

He presses his overheated cheek to the counter and sighs, so good. He grins wide.

Keith’s feet smack on the floor as he stomps, over-aggressively, I dare add, out of Lance’s room, “What the fuck did you do to my ass, you rotten egg?” His voice is louder now, much louder. Lance jumps mid giggle-fit, which sets him off into another one.

“ME!” Lance peers over the countertop and raises his hand, waving sluggishly and cackling, bloodshot eyes wide. Well, as wide as they can go, which, honestly, isn’t much, considering, “I DID THE FUCK! I PUT MY DICK IN - HAH - YOUR ASS! YOU LET ME - HAHAH - IT WAS WILD!”

Keith takes a long look at him and, like a flip has switched, his scowl melts and he bursts out laughing, his nose crinkling up. It’s so fucking adorable, Lance’s heart hurts. It burns. It screams in pain. Lance laughs the pain away like the idiot he is, or maybe just because he’s high as fuck. One can never be too sure, ya feel.

“I know that, you fucking stoner, I mean THE BRUISES.” He points at his bare hips, trying to catch his breath.

Lance’s eyes travel south.

Helloooo there, legs.

Wait, he went too far.

Go back two frames.

There, hips.

Lance blinks, and tries to open his eyes further. He can’t.

He blinks again.

Oh.

Ho boy, he did a number on the guy alright.

Also, this part is super wild, bare with him, it looks weirdly… beautiful? It’s gorgeous, actually. It’s a masterpiece, Lance is an artist.

The red and purple splotches scattered across Keith’s skin are… kind of blurring together in one big ass bruise, that reminds him oddly of the Milky Way. Lance fights hard against the white urge to draw an alien-head above Keith’s hipbone. Keith probably wouldn’t mind it, though. The nerd. Lance chuckles.

Keith clears his throat.

Lance flicks his eyes up at Keith, blinks languidly at him several times. Keith’s waiting for something, isn’t he? What is it again? He rakes his brain for an answer. It beeps.

Ah, yeah.

An answer, right. He needs to answer Keith, duh.

Lance cackles at his stupidity.

“Oh, that.” Lance wipes his eyes on his sleeve in between chuckles as he finally answers, sniffing. He braces his arms on the counter and pushes himself up on his feet, winking, “I’m not sorry about that.” He lies his torso on the counter, smooching his cheek against the cool surface, and shoots Keith a lopsided smile.

Keith shakes his head, “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but you looooooove me,” Lance sing-songs, finger gunning lazily with a grin.

Keith rolls his eyes fondly, and gets closer, dragging one of the stools from under the counter, and sitting down gingerly, wincing a little. His eyes flicker swiftly to something as he settles, before they land on Lance again. Keith frowns, “Should you be drinking coffee?”

Lance frowns back, puzzled, turning his head so he can look at his mug. “Shouldn’t I?” He wonders.

Keith leans over the counter, elbows propped up, and starts picking idly at one of the pizza rolls sitting pretty on the plate in front of him, “It doesn’t affect your high?”

Lance gasps. His pizza rolls. “No touching, you fugly mullet, it’s mineeeeee,” Lance whines, reaching forward and swatting Keith’s fugly hand away. He snatches the plate from Keith and brings it closer to himself, tucking it in between his arms, away from pizza roll-thieving mullets. Lance sticks out his tongue at him, before fitting two of the biggest rolls in his mouth. At the same time. For emphasis. His cheeks puff out.

Keith ducks his head to hide his grin. “You look like a chipmunk,” he comments nonchalantly, tapping his knuckles idly on the surface.

“Nhobowdshy ashkd yuh, Puhtrish,” Lance shoots back.

Keith rolls his eyes and flips him off with both hands, leaning back on his stool.

Lance flashes him the half-chewed food.

“Fuck, that’s gross.”

“Ah.” Lance struggles to swallow all of it dry, but manages, “I forgot to - clears throat - answer, coffee doesn’t affect my high much.” He shrugs, taking a bite off one of the rolls. Keith hums.

Lance swallows, “Pass me the straw, please. The long, bendy one.” He gestures a thumb back.

Keith slides from the stool in one smooth movement, makes his way around the counter and goes for the drawers. Lance hears as it slides open, “Which color?”

“Purple,” Lance answers over his shoulder.

He stretches his arm when Keith pulls the straw out and makes a grabby hand at him.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Keith holds the straw over his head.

“Gimme, or I’ll punch your di-I-i-aaAAAAAah,” he tries to steal the straw from Keith, but loses his footing and almost dives face-first into the cold, hard floor. “¡Coño!” He fumbles to keep upright, hooking a hand on the edge of the other side of the counter. Thank fuck for long fingers.

Lance manages to get his balance back by planting his feet firmly on the ground. Keith makes his way back to his stool, and once he’s settled, he hands Lance the straw already stretched. Keith’s lips quiver in a poorly concealed attempt not to laugh, eyes twinkling mirthfully.

Lance rolls his eyes as he throws the straw into his cup, propping himself on his elbow and resting his chin on his palm.

Keith makes gagging sounds, bangs falling on his eyes.

Lance ignores him in order to bring the straw to his lips with his free hand, and suck the coffee, swallowing in an obnoxiously loud gulp.

Keith’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “You’re gross,” Keith comments, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“Thanks, I try,” Lance grins around his straw, then frowns at Keith’s bare chest. “Shouldn’t you put on some clothes, though?” Lance asks, eyes half-lidded, “It’s freezing, Keith.”

Keith raises an eyebrow, looking down. “Off-topic, but no, Lance, it’s not,” he shoots Lance a look, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “And how would you know, anyway? You’re high.”

“What’s this jealousy I’m feeling? There’s more, you know.” He pats the breast pocket of his sweatshirt with a dopey smile, and meets Keith’s eyes as he takes a sip, waggling his brows. He swallows and winks, “Don’t need to get all broody on me, grumpy pants.”

Keith hides his face on his arms and groans. Lance can see the blush rising on Keith’s neck, and allows himself a mental pat on the back as he pushes himself upright.

“Okay, let’s go,” Lance trots towards his bedroom.

3:32 P.M.

When they sober up enough to get stuff done, they throw themselves on the couch, legs tangled because why not, right? It’s not like Lance’s life makes any sense, anyway.

Lance with the camera in his hands and laptop on his stomach, Keith with his headphones around his ears, and one of his weird, edgy sci-fi books resting on his thighs.

Lance rests his head on the armrest and hits play.

Keith’s feet tap a comforting rhythm against Lance’s.

4:02 P.M.

Keith falls asleep against the couch, mouth slightly open.

Lance does a poor job at reducing the volume of his laughter at his dramatics on video. Even though Keith’s got his headphones on, Lance still manages to wake him up, and ends up getting kicked in the shin by a very rumpled, grumpy, and over-sized baby with a fugly mullet for that.

He tries not to laugh again.

…He fails miserably, and both his shins suffer.

Terribly.

4:30 P.M.

Because Lance has shit luck, and the universe is out to get him, they didn’t manage to catch Keith’s o-face on video. Life is unfair, God hates him, Jesus hates him, even Buddha must hate him, because this, right here, has got to be some sort of twisted divine punishment. Maybe it’s Karma, maybe he was a murderer in his past life, he doesn’t know. What he does know, though, is that this must be fixed.

“Dude,” he kneels on the couch and shakes Keith’s knee to wake him up, “Dude. DUDE!”

Keith’s eyes flutter open and he squints at Lance, blinking blearily, utterly confused.

Lance sits back on his heels and he offers Keith the camera, “Look.”

Keith, while frowning up at him, sits up and takes it. He yawns, unplugging his headphones from his phone and into the camera. He hits play.

Keith snaps the camera shut after about ten minutes, a furious blush burning his high cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. He still looks mildly confused, though, and astoundingly flustered, bringing his knees to his chest.

Lance bites on his bottom lip and heaves a huge breath. “We’ll have to tape chapter 1 again,” he clarifies.

Keith lifts an eyebrow, face still bright red, “Because…”

“I can’t see your face when you’re coming, dude.” Lance explains, waving his hands at the camera in exasperation, “That’s unacceptable, you know. really preposterous. I can’t have this, I can’t WRITE like this. This is a disaster. We gotta redo this, Keith. It’s a matter of life and death.” He grabs both Keith’s knees and shakes.

“But- I’m awake now, dipshit, quit shaking me,” He snaps, batting Lance’s hands away from his knees, “But… don’t you remember my face when I was actually coming yesterday?”

So, you see… remember when Lance mentioned he has shit luck, and the universe is out to get him, and some sort of divine punishment is being inflicted upon him? There’s another reason to back up that assessment.

They not only hadn’t caught Keith’s o-face on video, but he also didn’t get to see Keith’s o-face in living color yesterday because he had his fucking eyes closed. Which rude, Lance. That is just plain rude. There’s no excuses. That’s probably why God, Jesus, and Buddha hate you this much.

Lance hangs his head. “I- I had my eyes closed,” he confesses, accepting defeat.

“You’re hopeless.”

Lance’s head shoots up and he gasps, “Excuse!”

“No,” Keith stands up abruptly, almost kneeing Lance’s nose in the process.

Lance squawks and reels back, out of reach, eyes wide, “Wha-”

“Shut the fuck up, you dry raisin,” Keith glares accusingly at him and Lance flinches, “I’ll fix this.”

“Kei-”

Keith’s arm shoots up, and he points his index finger at Lance, thick eyebrows pinched. “Stay put,” he warns, waving his finger, “don’t fucking move, don’t breathe.”

Lance is too confused to react, or even say anything, so he just gapes.

“Just… stay there, I’ll be quick.”

Keith returns buck naked, with a dildo and the lube in hands.

Lance’s at a loss, he’s a loss for words, his sass is gone, along with his ability to form coherent thoughts. Keith has that effect on him, apparently. Keith always finds a way to give Lance whiplash.

Keith dumps the stuff on the coffee table and turns his attention to Lance, he chuckles at what he sees there, “Shut your mouth, Lance, you’ll catch a fly.”

Lance finds his voice. “Wha-” he clears his throat, and shakes his head before continuing, “What the fuck?” (Eloquent.)

Keith rolls his eyes as he picks up the camera, “You’re gonna tape me as I touch myself.”

Keith hands Lance the camera.

“I don’t…” Lance takes it, still completely dumbfounded.

Keith cuts him off, “I told you I’d fix this, didn’t I? So this is me, fixing it.”

Something in Lance’s brain seems to click.

“Oh,” he replies dumbly.

Oh no, is what he means, no fucking way. He’s gonna die today.

Yup, today is the day.

“Okay, so…” Keith claps his hands, “scooch over, I need the space.”

Lance’s eyes widen, “You really gonna do this here? On the couch?”

“Is there a problem?”

Yes. There’s a ton of problems, actually. Not with Keith doing it on the couch, but still, there’s a problem. Tons of problems. These problems have problems. For one, Lance will probably die. For two, he can’t do this anymore. He can’t but he has to, and he will because his project is worth 40% of his final grade, he will because he has to. He has the moral duty to prove to Keith, and to himself, that he, as a matter of fact, can do this, even if he’ll end up hurt. Fuck his feelings.

“No, no, nope, no problem at all. I’m all up for jerking off on the couch, sign me the fuck up. It’s just…” Lance blows a raspberry, scratching the back of his head, looking around the room, uncertain. He can’t meet Keith’s eyes, “it looks too cramped, I think? I was just, uhm, thinking that maybe, I don’t know, you’d prefer doing this on a bed?”

Keith snorts, “Nah, it’s okay.”

Lance finally looks at him, searching his face, “You sure? Like, 100%?”

Keith rolls his eyes, “Yes Lance, don’t worry, just… keep the camera on me.”

Lance sits upright, crisscrossing his legs, and points the camera at Keith.

#klance #keith x lance #voltron #vld #klance fic #fanfic #my stuff #sup #weed tw #drugs tw

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ylla · 8 years

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This Must Be The Place - Chapter 3

Series: JJBA Characters: Okuyasu Nijimura, Josuke Higashikata Pairing: josuyasu Tags: modern au, underage drinking, vomiting mentions, background ocs, tomoko and okuyasu have a mother/son moment and i am here for it Rating: M AO3 link

***WARNING*** THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VOMITING MENTIONS FROM OVERZEALOUS UNDERAGE DRINKING AND HANGOVERS ***WARNING***

i’m suffering through some kind of hell virus and i cant sleep, so i revved my engine and plucked this chapter right out of my ass. there are meme references throughout this entire thing, because i am tired and live to shitpost, and you get a kissaroo from me to you if you can find them all. hopefully this makes sense to everyone, and not just to my fever-addled mind.

knowing my dumb ass, the next chapter will be up soonish because i’m too ill to do anything else other than write ε-(≖д≖﹆)

Death was something Okuyasu never purposefully sought, despite living life like he had single-minded determination to see what all the fuss was about the afterlife. There had always been a strong, primal urge to survive, to live, to spite the overwhelming odds that had been stacked against him since he was so very young. Like hell he was going to just die. He had responsibilities: a dad to look after, friends to back up, a boyfriend to care for. He had shit to do; he couldn’t just die young and leave a hole in the heart of so many people.

Okuyasu wasn’t smart, but he knew how to keep himself safe. Never mix ammonia with bleach, always wear a helmet, gloves, jacket, and proper shoes when riding a motorcycle, never grab the muffler of an overheated lawn mower in the middle of a heatwave in July after it had been running for two hours.

And never, ever, lie to Tomoko “Taker of No Shit” Higashikata.

When he woke up the Sunday after the party, Okuyasu was sure he had somehow died and was now in the 8th circle of hell. He had never drank so much in all his life. He had never been so fucked up in all his life. He had no recollection of what happened after they got to the party. Everything was an assault to his senses; the tiniest amount of light and sound made his head throb, his eyes shriek, and his guts roil like snakes had manifested inside his body. He attempted to sit up, but it made his head spin so badly, he immediately started vomiting. Thank god a previously unnoticed bucket was thrust in front of him, catching what was a small amount of bile and water. “He lives,” said whatever was holding the bucket.

Okuyasu looked up to find Josuke standing in front of him, looking exactly like how he felt. You look terrible is what he wanted to say. “Grugh” is what came out instead.

“You remember last night?”

“No,�� Oku moaned, settling back down, “Th’ fuck happened?”

“A lot of bullshit.”

“Oh god…what happened?”

Josuke put the puke bucket down and sat on the edge of the bed, “You won’t like it.”

Here was the evening from Josuke’s perspective, though he was a little fuzzy on all of the details.

After bidding goodnight to Tomoko, they waited until it was dark before sneaking out of Oku’s house and hoofing it to the party. Josuke was dressed to the nines as usual, while Okuyasu was wearing something more understated, but it worked for him.

The house (which looked massive) was located in a more secluded part of Morioh, clearly chosen to enable underage tomfoolery. There were still a few neighbors around who probably heard the music and saw kids going in. This looked like it was a mistake, but hey, why not enjoy it while you can?

Surprisingly, the front door was manned by no one other than Tamami, who was holding a coffee can that was half-full with deposited yen; there was a door charge they hadn’t been aware of. Apparently, this was Tamami’s parent’s house, and he decided that throwing a party while they were away on a trip would be a great way to make some extra cash. Josuke remarked that he respected the hustle, before he elbowed Tamami in the ribs hard while reminding him that they were Koichi’s Best Fuckin’ Bros, so why not cut them a little slack?? You know, for Koichi?

Both boys got a free pass; they stepped into the living room where the party was obviously already underway. Red solo cups filled with some unidentified liquid was thrust into their hands, which they immediately tried. It tasted like window cleaner mixed with Gatorade, and it was disgusting, but they kept drinking to keep up appearances. They watched a pack of drunk teenagers grind on the makeshift dance floor, music blaring loudly, while a lively game of beer pong took place in the kitchen.

They found Oku’s Home Economics buddies in a corner; Yukie looked like she was having the time of her life, while Hitomi was passively sipping a beer, and Ritsu was flushed, looking like she was waiting for the earth to swallow her up. With a nudge, Hitomi pointed to the far corner, where Yuuya was standing with his fangirls, arm around a guy who looked just like him minus the stupid chin tattoo. Hachiro was his name; apparently, he was a junior, Yuuya’s younger half-brother, acted nothing like him, and Ritsu had it bad for him. The four of them tried to needle Ritsu into approaching him, but she had steadfastly refused, clutching her cup like it was a lifeline.

Josuke, a man of action, took it upon himself to walk right up to Yuuya and suggested he get a game of truth or dare going. Yuuya flickered eyes between Josuke and the corner from whence he came, before managing to shout over the noise that if anyone was interested in playing truth or dare, to follow him to the basement. Some people left the dance floor and followed, while Hitomi and Yukie hoisted up Ritsu, who had become rooted to the floor, and carried her downstairs.

Okuyasu and Josuke high-fived; Josuke then tried dragging Oku to the dance floor, but he resisted, saying he was too damn sober to make a fool of himself. So beer pong it was. After watching a few games (and guffawing when Hazamada tried to kiss some girl, but got a face full of vodka instead), they got to play. To the shock of everyone, Okuyasu was amazing while Josuke sucked absolute ass, almost tanking their chances at winning with sheer ineptitude. The pressure was too much! The alcohol was fucking up his reaction time! He kept getting teased, which made him pout, but Okuyasu kissed him on the mouth, then proceeded to shoot his way to victory repeatedly.

After what was probably 3 or 4 rounds, they were both three sheets to the wind. Are you feeling it now, Mr. Nijimura? Josuke purred in his ear, before dragging him to the dance floor. If either of them had been remotely sober, they would have never in a million years waltzed into the middle of a dance floor and dirty dance in front of most of their peers. But there they were, drunk as shit, with Josuke grinding his ass into Okuyasu. It was a good thing that everyone around them was just as inebriated, and too interested in dancing up on their partners to notice.

They managed to get through a few songs before they stumbled to the bathroom to have a drunk makeout session. In the few months they had been dating, they hadn’t gotten much farther than sloppy kisses with lots of tongue, but with the ferocity they had attacked each other’s lips and neck, things might have gone way further if they hadn’t been interrupted by someone barging into the bathroom and slurring, “GOTTA SHIT” before they pulled down their pants and lit that tiny bathroom up.

Boners effectively killed, they wandered downstairs to see how the truth or dare game was going. The first thing they saw was Ritsu sitting in the lap of Yuuya’s brother, making out with him. Hitomi helpfully informed Josuke and Okuyasu that Hachiro had just been dared by his older brother to kiss the prettiest girl in the room, and well. Hitomi had just gestured at the two.

Since everyone had already gone once, Yuuya picked Okuyasu next, taking his brother’s turn since he was busy. He tossed the teenager a half-pint of something called Everclear and told him to chug as much has he could. Never one to back down from a challenge, Okuyasu started guzzling it down like he had been stranded in the desert and this was the first drink he’d seen in months. He got to name on the label before he replaced the cap to the sound of resounding cheers, swayed for a few seconds, and then promptly stumbled over to a laundry basket to retch.

As Oku cleared the contents of his stomach, his face the color of a sickeningly combo of grey and green, someone pounded down the stairs to holler “IT’S THE COPS, SCATTER.”

This is where Josuke’s memory gets a little fuzzy. The next thing he remembers is him and Yuuya booked it across the backyard, half-dragging, half-carrying Okuyasu, with Hachiro carrying Ritsu. Yuuya told his girls to go ahead without him, and they took off on their bikes, carting off Yukie, Hitomi, and someone who was probably Hazamada. Then he remembers jumping into what appeared to be an ancient, black SUV and Yuuya peeling out of Tamami’s house at an excessive speed. Okuyasu started puking again, and it took the combined effort of Hachiro and Josuke to keep it from spilling out a plastic bag Hachiro grabbed from the trunk.

Yuuya dropped Josuke and Okuyasu off first; Hachiro helped get Oku out of the car and up onto the porch of—

“Wait wait wait, hold on.” Okuyasu rubbed his face, trying to process everything Josuke was telling him. “You mean to tell me that I got a debt I gotta repay to Yuuya??”

Josuke grimaced, “We both do, because he saved our asses. Kinda.”

“What do you mean ‘kinda’?” Okuyasu was already squinting because he was trying to avoid looking into any light source, but he squinted so much that his eyes were basically closed.

“I, uh—“

“Dude,” he loved Josuke with every part of him, but he was nauseous, felt like absolute garbage, and wanted to just curl up and stop existing, so he was a little bit testy, “You gotta just fuckin’ tell me. You know I ain’t that smart to begin with, but right now my brain feels like someone rubbed a bunch of spicy shit on it, so I ain’t thinking that clearly. Tell me.”

Typically, Josuke would bark something snotty, but instead, he didn’t speak, just swallowed instead and turned around so Oku couldn’t see his face.

“What?? Fuckin’ tell me dude! Did Yuuya’s bro see my dad when he helped you carry me in?? Did dad get hurt???” He tried to sit up, but Josuke put a hand on his chest to keep him down, still not looking at him.

“We…we didn’t go back to your house…”

Okuyasu was thunderstruck for a few minutes. He looked around, bewildered, “Where the fuck are we—“ It was in that exact moment that Oku realized what room he was in. It wasn’t his bedroom. The soft yellow walls and band posters were not his. He slowly realized the implications. They were in Josuke’s room. In his house. Where Tomoko “Not My Mom But Kinda Is” Higashikata lived.

“Oh shit,” he whispered, “oh, holy shit.”

Josuke rubbed his face, then rested his head in his hands, “You were—You scared the shit out of me. You kept puking, and you weren’t like—you weren’t responsive, so I had Yuuya take us to my house. And I got mom up—“

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god,” Okuyasu was on the verge of panicking, “Josuke, what the fuck??”

“I was drunk! And scared something was really wrong! I had to wake her up!!” Josuke turned towards him, his temper flaring, “What the fuck was I supposed to do??? Let you possibly d—“ He stopped short, trying to swallow down whatever he was about to say. Taking a minute, Josuke sighed, “It doesn’t matter. Mom’s pissed and our asses are grass, dude.”

“That’s an understatement.”

Okuyasu didn’t need to look in the doorway to know Tomoko was standing there with her hands on her hips, looking fierce and ready to string them both up. He could feel anger radiating off of her in waves.

Josuke, who had always been mouthy, had always bucked under Tomoko’s rules, went completely silent and still, staring at his hands. The fact that Josuke couldn’t contradict her, that he could only hang his head in shame, made Okuyasu realize just exactly how in trouble they were. They fucked up. Big time.

“You know, I figured something was wrong when Josuke buttered me up all evening. Never in my life would I guess that you two would go out to some stranger’s house—“

Josuke couldn’t help himself, “Actually, we know Tam—“

“GO TO SOME STRANGER’S HOUSE. AND GET SO SHITFACED THAT ONE OF YOU DAMN NEAR HAS ALCOHOL POISONING??”

Okuyasu visibly flinched at her shouting, feeling tears prick the back of his eyes.

“Mom—“

“I’m not stupid, Josuke, which apparently you seem to assume. I don’t care that you two go over to Okuyasu’s house and drink beers or smoke cigarettes, because I know you’re at least safer there than out in some strange place. You LIED to me, and damn near got ARRESTED—“

“Listen—“

“And Okuyasu here REEKS of grain alcohol and probably should be in the hospital right now for alcohol poisoning! What the hell is wrong with you two???”

Josuke sighed, waiting for it to be over. Oku was barely holding back sobs, while tears rolled down his face.

“How dumb can you boys be?? You’ve taken years off of my life, I think I sprouted more wrinkles and grey hairs in one night than I have in the past 37 years.”

“I’m sorry, mom” Josuke mumbled.

“I’m sorry, Ms. H” Okuyasu choked out. Josuke reached behind him and laced their fingers together, giving a reassuring squeeze.

Tomoko sighed, “You know, honestly? I’m not even mad at you, Okuyasu, I’m just disappointed. I expect this kind of stupidity from Josuke, but not from you.”

It was like a knife in the gut. He would’ve taken a punch to the face from her better.

“After you’re well enough, we’re gonna go over to your house and I’m going to speak to your father—“

The wail he had been suppressing ripped out of him, “No no no no no, please no, Ms. H, I’m beggin’ ya—“ He started to get up, to sit on his knees in front of her and beg her to do literally anything else, when his stomach churned again and he vomits

All over Josuke’s legs.

Josuke, a saint with a pompadour (though right now it’s just a stringy mess), bit his lip to prevent himself from shrieking and just stiffly strong-armed the puke bucket in front of Okuyasu, as he sobbed and threw up more. It was a complete disaster.

“Oku, I have to,” Tomoko sounded significantly less angry, but just as firm, “I know he’s sick, but—“

“You don’t understand,” Okuyasu managed to say, “He won’t understand a thing you tell ‘em.” Oku flopped back down, exhausted and crying, “He doesn’t even know who I am.” Feeling ashamed, he flung an arm over his face, wishing The Hand could just scrap him away until nothing was left.

He had never told Tomoko anything about his dad. She never pushed the matter, not wanting to upset Okuyasu by making him talk about it, which he had been grateful for. Oku had sworn Josuke to secrecy that he would never tell her, but it’s not like he had to. Josuke couldn’t exactly explain that Oku’s father became an invincible booger man because an immortal vampire that had been plaguing the Joestar family for 100 years had implanted some kind of mind control thing that went crazy after said immortal vampire was killed.

The only things Tomoko was told was that his mom had died when he was young, his father fell very ill shortly aftewards, his brother was murdered in front of him, and that this boy’s life had been nothing but an uphill battle from day 1. He had no one, save for the few people he had met in Morioh.

“Josuke, go get cleaned up.”

When Josuke didn’t move or speak, Oku figured they were making faces at each other, silently communicating on how to approach what the hell this mess was. “Aight,” was Josuke’s response. He leaned back and planted a small kiss on the part of Oku’s face that wasn’t covered up; squeezing his hand one more time before gingerly getting up off the bed, stripping away his pajama pants, and heading to the bathroom.

Tomoko took his spot on the bed, gently moving the arm covering his face, and wiped his tears away. All this did was cause them to fall harder, but she kept at it. Oku couldn’t bear to look her in the face. Some part of him wondered if this is what having a mom was like. It took Oku a bit to calm down, “Sorry,” was all he could manage to say.

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to get so worked up. I just…I worry. That’s all.”

He closed his eyes when the hand went from his face to his hair. He didn’t deserve any of this sweetness, after had just scared her half to death. There was a silence hanging in the air, and Oku knew she was gonna ask—

“Is your father that sick? What’s wrong with him, exactly?”

And there it is. He was terrible at lying to her, but maybe he could get away with a lie by omission.

“Me and Keicho never found out what’s exactly wrong with ‘em. Whatever it is, it ruined his brain, like his memories are kinda there, but,” Oku swallowed, “He can’t speak or really do for himself. I dunno if he recognizes me as his son, or as the guy who feeds and talks to ‘em” Tears were threatening again, but he muscled through it. She deserved to at least know some things. “It uh, changed his appearance too. A lot. It can be weird to see…”

He fell silent after that, not sure what else to say. “I’m sorry, honey,” Tomoko said thickly, after a few minutes. It made Okuyasu’s chest twinge painfully. “You’ve shouldered all of this by yourself this whole time?”

“I—I mean I had Keicho, but…” there was a lump in his throat, “But it’s jus’ me now, I guess.”

She sniffed, sounding so heartbroken, “You know you’re not alone, right? You’ve got me, and Josuke, and a lot of other people who love and care about you.”

“I know.”

“And I love you very much, even if I’m shouty sometimes.”

“I know. And I love you too, Ms. H,” he wiped his eyes. Finally, Okuyasu got the courage to look her in the face. Thankfully, she hadn’t been crying, but her eyes were shiny with tears. “Um…can I have a hug?”

She chuckled, “You know you don’t have to ask,” and helped him sit up a little so she could give her Mom-Hugs-Make-It-Better hug, rubbing his back before giving him a Mom Smooch on the cheek.

“Thanks.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Good,” she got up and looked him. Hands were firmly placed on her hips, but she didn’t look pissed or upset anymore, “You’re grounded until further notice.”

“Uh—“

“Since your dad is too sick, I will hand out your punishment. You can still come over and see Josuke, if only because I want to make sure you’re following the rules. No videogames, internet unless it’s for homework, or tv. Both you and that son of mine will be doing nothing but chores, homework, and studying. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright,” she ruffled his hair affectionately, “Now go get Josuke out of the bathroom, and take a shower. I’ll change your sheets, they smell like rubbing alcohol and regret.”

It took a lot of effort, but Oku managed to shamble out of Josuke’s room and toward the bathroom. The bathroom door was comfortable as he leaned against it, “Jooosuke, open up.”

The door unlocked, Okuyasu pushed it open and stumbled in. Josuke was wearing only his underwear, hair wet and still unstyled. He leaned against the mirror over the sink, face smooshed, making some kind of walrus groan, “I think I’m dying.”

A glance in the mirror told Oku that he looked like the dead reanimated, “I already look like a damn zombie.” He shuffled to Josuke and put his head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry about being a fuckin’ mess, and making you worry, and puking on you—“

Josuke turned around and pulled Okuyasu close, giving him a kiss on his greasy noggin, “S’fine, don’t worry about it. Looks like we’re gonna be grounded forever though.”

“You heard all that?”

“Nah, jus’ figured she’d do that.”

They held each other for a little bit, the silence comfortable before Josuke pulled away, face scrunched up for effect, “I love you, sunshine, but you need to shower. You smell funky.”

“Thanks asshole, way to ruin the moment,” he jabbed Josuke in the side, “Love you—“ That’s when he noticed the dark purple hickies covering Josuke’s neck. “WHAT THE FUCK??” he hissed, turning Josuke’s head to the side to get a good look at them. Oh god, Tomoko has seen what he has done to her son.

“Chill out, dude, it’s not a big deal—“

“Not a big deal?? Look at you!!”

Josuke turned his head back towards Okuyasu, a big toothy grin on his face, “I see ‘em, babe.”

A hint of pink colored Okuyasu’s cheeks, “So can everyone else!”

“Let ‘em,” he leaned over and gave Oku a sweet kiss on the cheek before leaning over in to whisper in his ear, “’Sides, I love ‘em.” Josuke straightened up with a wink, and a not-so-subtle lip lick. Which would have been incredibly sexy if he didn’t turn and immediately smack his face into the bathroom door when trying to leave. After a beat, he muttered “You take this to the grave,” before grabbing his reddening face while skedaddling out of the room.

Okuyasu wouldn’t tell a soul anyways. He wanted to be the only one who got to see Josuke in his true form: a complete and utter dork.

Later on, after Josuke gets his hair French braided, and Oku no longer smelled like the world’s grossest bar and checked on his dad, they laid in Josuke’s bed and watched movies together on his laptop. Tomoko, in her infinite graciousness, gave them a reprieve from being grounded until they felt better.

Okuyasu dozed on and off with his face buried into Josuke’s shoulder, still feeling like shit and flinching in the light of day. At one point, he woke up to Josuke very gently shaking him, “Hey, I gotta question.”

“Mm.”

“You’re staying the night, right?”

“Mhm.”

Josuke kissed the side of his head, “Good shit.” Oku was drifting back off to sleep when he was shaken again, “Do you feel bad about leaving those hickies?”

He cracked open an eye, wishing that his boyfriend would just wait to ask him later, when he didn’t feel like death. However, Josuke was looking at him with those big blue eyes that were full of concern, and he couldn’t help but answer. “Kinda…? I mean,” his voice was slightly slurred from sleep, “I liked leavin’ ‘em, a-and seein’ ‘em, but they’re just kinda, uh, big. So I’m just worried they hurt, ‘cause I don’t wanna hurt ya.”

Josuke’s face just melted into this sappy smile, and Oku’s heart did that stuttering thing again, “Aww, you big softie.” Oku grumbled a little at being called a softie, but couldn’t keep himself from giggling as his face got peppered with kisses. “They’re small compared to the giant ones I left on you—“

“You gave me some?? What the hell, did you heal them??”

“Well yeah, they turned the entire left side of your neck this gross shade of yellow and purple.”

“Damn, babe. Musta been those big lips—“

"Fuck you, dickhead—“

“Did they look like that bruise ya got on your forehead from hittin’ ya face on the door earlier?”

His boyfriend went from adorable pouting at the lip comment to horrified, “DID IT LEAVE A BRUISE?” He made to get up, but Oku just held him down.

“It’s small and you can barely see it unless someone is right up on ya, calm your ass down!” Josuke whined, but Oku placed a kiss on his forehead, “That better?”

“No…”

Oku gave him a sweet kiss on his lips, ears pink, speaking quietly, "I-I love your lips, they’re really soft…” He kissed Josuke again, “Better now?”

“…Yes.”

Josuke whipped out his phone and opened up the camera to check his face out. There was some slight discoloration on his forehead, and he grunted irritably. Then he switched to snapchat, “Oku, smile.”

“Hell no, don’t take a picture of me. I look like hot vomit,”

“No you don’t, you’re adorable.” Josuke made a kissy face and took his free hand to smoosh Oku’s lips to make a kissy face. After an agonizing few seconds of being subjected to selfies, Josuke finally got one he deemed good enough. “See! You’re so cute, sunshine.”

The picture was cute. Oku hated how it made his heart feel like it was gonna explode, but didn’t try to wrestle the phone out of Josuke’s iron-like grip to delete it and keep taking more. “…Send that to me.”

“New wallpaper?” Josuke saved it to his phone before adding a caption that said ‘He lives! So handsome ♡ ♡ ♡’

“Maybe. Wanna tussle over it?”

“Rather not have you puke on me again.” Josuke posted it to his Story and sent it to a few people on his snapchat friends list, “Also, you need to shave.”

“Ain’t diggin’ how rugged my face feels?”

Josuke snorted, “It’s like touching a cactus.”

Okuyasu rolled on top of Josuke and started rubbing his face against Josuke’s like a cat.

“AGH—YOU BASTARD, STOP!!!”

He was cackling, but all the motion was making his stomach feel queasy again. After his laughter calmed down, Okuyasu rested his forehead against Josuke’s, “Hi.”

“Hey.”

Oku swallowed, “Uhm, about the hickie stuff earlier…”

Josuke arched an eyebrow, “What about it?”

“If—if you wanted to, you could…gimme some little ones. If you wanna, that is—“

It took him a few seconds to realize that Josuke had flipped him and straddled him before he even finished his thought.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

“So, you show up to your boyfriend’s house, drunk as a skunk,” Hitomi asked carefully, “and his mom…grounded you?”

“Y-yeah. Ms. H can be a really scary lady.”

Okuyasu was still dehydrated on Monday, so he didn’t go to school until the next day (with some little love bites on his neck). Talk about the party had mostly died down, but he did learn that Tamami only ended up with a hefty ticket, everyone who was picked up by the cops were let go of, and Hachiro had been avoiding Ritsu like she had tuberculosis.

“I’m such a fool!!!” she wailed, flinging herself dramatically over the counter. Yukie, with a good sense of timing, managed to catch her ponytail before it went flying into her bowl of batter. “Why won’t he talk to me???”

“Maybe he’s shy…?” Okuyasu supplied.

“He wasn’t shy when he had his tongue down my throat and his hand on my butt!!” Other students in the class swiveled around to stare at them.

“Ritsu, don’t holler that!” Yukie hissed.

“Oh my god,” Hitomi muttered under her breath, trying to avoid everyone’s eyes.

“Okuyasu,” Ritsu clung to him, “You got a man. How did you catch him??”

“I uh…what?”

“How did you confess your ~undying~ love to Josuke??”

He was living in a living nightmare, “Uhm, Josuke…confessed to me…actually…”

A beat passed before Ritsu dramatically threw herself onto the counter again, baying like a wounded dog.

“Ritsu, for—“ Yukie picked her up by her shoulders and started shaking her, “Calm down!! You’re making a scene!!”

Hitomi had sunk down to the floor, clearly wishing that she could just keep sinking until she hit the core of the earth. Oku was tempted to follow her, but Ritsu shrugged off Yukie to grab him again, “Then, how did Josuke confess to you??”

Oku managed to escape her grip, “We were sittin’ on my back porch lookin’ at the stars after a big storm knocked out the power,” Okuyasu realized his face was turning scarlet, so he started working on his cookie dough, “We were like drinkin’ and holdin’ hands, and he’s like ‘Dude I’m in love with someone’. I thought it had to be literally anyone other than me, and I was really upset, but then he kissed me. A-and then told me I looked like the sun when I smiled, which was really smooth, so I gotta give him that. So I told him I loved him too, and then, uh, he asked me out and here we are” he finished lamely.

The girls were awfully silent. When he raised his head to see what they were doing, he was alarmed to find all three of them (Hitomi had emerged from her spot on the floor) looking at him with tears in their eyes.

“THAT’S SO SWEET—“

“That was pretty smooth on Josuke’s part—“

“IS THAT WHY HE CALLS YOU SUNSHINE??”

“I—I think so?” Oku stammered, “Josuke’s good at all this romance stuff, you should ask him for advice. All I’m good for is cooking.”

Hitomi looked at her runny cookie dough, compared it to Oku’s nice, chunky mix, and sniffed, “If we’re gonna start asking for food advice, what kind of wizardry bullshit do you pull to get this consistency?”

Lunch was a fairly quiet affair, Ritsu opting to just grill Josuke over snapchat instead of hounding him in person. Which was good, since Josuke still hadn’t shown up at the usual spot, so it was just Okuyasu and Koichi.

“Man, since you got Class Rep, you’ve been too busy, dude.” Okuyasu remarked.

Koichi shrugged, “Looks good on college applications, and it’s not so bad. I could think of worse things to be doing.” He took a bite out of a little custard tart his mother packed in his lunch, “Heard about the party from Tamami. Sounds like it been a lot of fun.”

Oku winced, feeling bad that they didn’t invite Koichi, “It was until I got sick… sorry we didn’t extend an invite to you, dude.”

With a smile, Koichi waved him down, “I wouldn’t have gone anyways, I had that meeting. Also, Tamami had already invited me, but I told him I couldn’t. It’s fine! I promise. Anyways, how’s you and Josuke doing?”

So Okuyasu started babbling about how great Josuke was, which somehow lead into the story about the guy who started uncontrollably shitting with them in the room (Koichi looked sickened), when the devil himself waltzed up to them, looking pensive.

“Hey Josuke—“ Koichi greeted, his smile falling slightly when he saw the look on Josuke’s face, “What’s up?”

“Mom called me, and told me that she had been talking to Holly.” Two blank stares met him. “You know, Jotaro’s mom? My sister?”

“Oh shit, yeah!”

“That’s right! Mr. Jotaro said that…”

Oku’s brows furrowed, “Somethin’ the matter with that, though?”

Josuke kinda shrugged, “It’s just, weird I guess. Considering everything…” he stared at the ground for a minute before clearing his throat, “But, they’re apparently getting along and got most of the awkward stuff out of the way. Mom told me that Holly said everyone is coming in about two weeks. You guys wanna go with us when we meet them at the airport?”

“Of course!”

“Fuck yeah dude, count me in.”

A smile returned to Josuke’s face, and he nodded before plopping down beside Okuyasu to steal a kiss and some of his food.

With any luck, when they meet up with everyone again, it will be without hickie decorated necks. Okuyasu would never hear the end of it from Polnareff.

#okuyasu nijimura #josuke higashikata #josuyasu #josuke x okuyasu #jjba

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