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petermorwood · 8 months

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Microwave Sponge Cake (eventually)

Long ago, @dduane and I had a Whirlpool combi microwave - micro, grill, fan oven - and It Was Great, big enough to use as a proper oven when what needed cooked in a proper oven was small enough that powering up the big proper oven in the cooker was a bit much.

Still with me...?

IIRC it was one of those Christmas presents where Mum, ever-practical, told us; "get yourselves something really useful but not too expensive (I did say practical!) and I'll go halves."

In 2016, after something like 15 years of pretty-well daily use for one thing and another, the old thing expired by stages, micro first, grill second, oven last - it made great bread up until the end - and went to recycling heaven.

*****

We couldn't find a one-for-one replacement (we needed a free-standing counter-top appliance, everyone was selling built-in), so until once was available (optimism) we bought an ordinary microwave.

NB, this and its successors were only used for ordinary microwave things like reheating, defrosting and dealing with freeze-cook stuff. They got nothing like the amount of use of the old combi, mostly because of being incapable of doing a lot of it. As things turned out, this didn't help much.

About eighteen months later, we had to buy another. If a microwave's enamel interior develops a crack (to this day I don't know how), moisture gets in, rust begins and the enamel pulls off the bare metal. That's when you get "sparking".

This demo is deliberate; believe me, when it's unexpected it's even worse.

youtube

A private welder show or lightning storm at the end of the kitchen counter when all you want is a hot cuppa is distinctly unsettling. Also, it's only going to get worse, and we could imagine - boy, could we - what "Much Worse" might look like.

To the recycle dump!

(NB, micros with stainless steel interiors don't seem to do this, probably because they're already tuned to deal with the bare metal.)

The replacement, another ordinary micro, Just Up And Died after eighteen months and, guess what, the quote for a check-up and replacements-if-required was as much as the price of a new one.

(Inkjet printers seem to operate on this principal too.)

To the recycle dump again!

We got a third new one (which BTW is still running just fine, because it's been downgraded to Extra, read on), totalled up what we'd spent on ordinary microwaves, said a few well-chosen words about planned obsolescence and the "Vimes 'Boots' Theory of Economic Inequality" and got ourselves a pre-pay credit card whose top-ups were dedicated to Get A Combi Again.

We didn't bother with GACA baseball caps.

That would have been silly.

I don't know if these cards exist in the USA; we treat them as the modern version of a piggy-bank...

...except that to get at the money you need two people acting in accord.

*****

And in 2021 we got one.

Okay, this next bit is going to read like an ad.

It isn't, because the appliance is discontinued. (Whirlpool FINALLY do something similar but not identical.) It's just enthusiastic users discovering there's even more to a gadget than expected.

*****

The New One even bigger than the old one, which had 28 litres capacity; the new one was 33 L (was .99 ft³, is now 1.16 ft³). In non-tech terms, wow, More Room To Cook In.

Reading the figures was no help (to me, anyway) in visualising what a maw the thing had, but opening the door did that and no mistake.

I said something to DD about "bite radius"...

...and she instantly responded with "anyway, we delivered the bomb".

We're a quotesy household. ;->

BTW, The New One does a very good job on seafood, too...

*****

Since we got this, almost exactly two years ago, we've used it from reheating tea to roasting meat to making chilli / goulash / stew / curry (you can run the oven / grill separately or add simultaneous zaps of microwave for much less cooking time) to baking bread.

One of the best things about it is that when the set cooking time is done, the appliance switches off automatically. No risk of busyness, absent-mindedness or out-in-the-garden-ness ending in clouds of smoke, ruined food and possibly even worse.

As for breadmaking, it has a dough-rise setting which is a Time Machine, reducing a two-hour "doubled in size" rise time to about 35-45 minutes...

It also has the most reliable Defrost Butter setting either of us have ever encountered, turning a rock-solid butter brick from the freezer into something spreadable while never - to date - doing the "never mind a butter-knife, give me a spoon or a paintbrush" thing.

*****

However...

There's also a "Chef Setting" where there are some simple recipes. Here's the pastry page.

Basically, you assemble and mix the ingredients, input the correct settings and the machine does all the timing, heating and cooking.

We'd never used this until yesterday, when DD said, "Let's try the sponge cake..."

Yes, this post was entitled "Microwave Sponge Cake (eventually)..." and here we are...

We did all the measuring correctly and checked it by pouring the mixture into a baking container while on the scale, wondering betimes why the recipe says 900g, the ingredients total 925 and what actually poured into the container reads 906... Weird. Really weird.

Then we put the container into the oven, entered the correct code, and let things do what they were going to do.

A little later we discovered something else about the recipe besides a weight anomaly.

It didn't mention the required size of the container. Or or how much the mixture was likely to rise.

It rose...

Let's say more than we expected...

The fluted ceramic container used for baking this one makes it look like a Vesuvius cupcake; not quite a pyroclastic flow, but a lot of flow regardless.

Once it cooled we separated the sponge-cake from the escaped sponge in the same way as sculptors work with wood or marble - "Chip away everything that doesn't look like a cake" - and found that despite its misshapen looks, it tasted pretty good.

So today DD made another, this time using a larger container.

...and this time it stayed put until removed using the cunning base-and-lifting-straps of baking parchment.

It's not the loftiest or best-risen sponge cake either of us have ever seen (a smaller-diameter higher-sided container would probably deal with that) BUT if there's something needing sponge cake in a hurry - this went from cupboard ingredients to done and cooling in less than 55 minutes - that treatment seems to fit the bill.

We're now wondering what other secrets lurk in the simple recipe pages; falafel, quiche Lorraine, stuffed peppers, even Flammkuchen* from scratch.

(*Though I have my own views about Flammkuchen, mostly involving a plane flight...)

And we'll be paying a lot more attention to what size of dish we put them in. :->

#food and drink #kitchen appliances #combi microwaves #sponge cake #anecdotage #GNU Terry Pratchett #Youtube

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pedge-stuff · 9 months

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Hey... can I request a pedro × reader please?

They making dinner together and things get hot and heavy in the between

normal night (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

obligatory warning: light smut, allusions to romance

summary: no such thing as a "normal night," apparently.

—————————————————————————

Normalcy is such a fucking privilege.

It's all you can think about, salting thin strips of eggplant over a colander in the sink. Something about bitterness, or moisture. There'd been a whole article about it in the Sunday Times a while back, and Pedro had sworn its effectiveness since.

Your excitement was almost comical. Here you were, practically vibrating in anticipation of something that most people experience nightly: a home cooked meal with your partner. Eggplant parm, a side salad, and a bottle of red wine. That's all.

It's a rarity, though. Pedro in New York while you're off work and neither of you have any meetings or appointments past 5pm. He'd had a late-afternoon coffee with an old NYU classmate, but based on FindMyFriends, he was already headed back. You'd been looking forward to it all day— the kind of normal evening that most people take for granted.

You've got the radio on, albeit playing from the speakers of your laptop. Email up, but minimized— 5pm was a strict deadline tonight. No work. Just salting eggplant and stirring the simmering pot of tomato sauce on the burner.

The jangle of keys in the lock has you grinning.

"Hey!" Pedro calls. It's a little silly, how your heart still flutters, all this time later.

Arms wrap around your middle from behind. Squeeze tight for a moment, just the way you like, ribs compressed by the strong swell of his biceps. A scruffy cheek tickles the base of your neck as he hooks his chin over your shoulder, placing a kiss over the fabric of your sweater.

"Hi baby," you hum, leaning back into the embrace. There is coffee on his breath, and traces of citrusy cologne on his collar. "Have a good afternoon?"

"Mhmm." The affirmative rumbles from his chest, against your back. "Smells good in here," he offers, kissing your cheek before pulling away. "What can I do?"

There is a light blush to his cheeks; a tad too much sun today. He refuses to wear sunscreen, claims Chilean blood and four decades in tropical climates, and often pays the price for his confidence.

"Open the wine," you instruct, replacing the lid on the sauce pot. Turning the tap on, over the colander, you make quick work of rinsing the eggplant.

You don't dance, but the way that you navigate the kitchen around each other feels choreographed. He hands you a bowl without looking, for the breadcrumbs, as you pass the bottle of wine. The music has him swinging his hips, just a little.

It didn't use to feel this comfortable. In the early weeks of your mark-match, Pedro's house felt more like a museum; you sat stiffly on the couch, afraid to so much as muss the pillows, or use the wrong water glass. Afraid any little thing would break the illusion of bliss that had enveloped you both. It is easy now, to look back and laugh.

Pedro winks at you, pulling the last of the cork from the bottle with his teeth. A new little trick. You can't help the rush of warmth that spreads through you.

"What next?" He passes you a glass, which you tap lightly against his.

A glance at the timer on the oven. At the stairs, through the back doorway to the kitchen. At the hollow of his throat, flushed with the warmth of the kitchen, unblemished. His two sweatshirts are two too many.

"I think everything's good in here," you manage, closing the distance between you. Worm a hand beneath the layers to splay across the hot skin of his stomach. "We've got some time."

— — —

Dinner does not burn, thank god, though the side salad had to be abandoned for time. The sleeves of Pedro's pajama shirt are soaked with pasta water, and your flannel bottoms have somehow caught a streak of tomato sauce, but the choice to change into comfy clothes was ultimately a win.

You settle at the table, pleasantly warm from the wine. If your jaw is a little sore from the pre-dinner palate cleanser, well, the eggplant won't be tough to chew.

Though the evening has been nothing but relaxing, something has Pedro agitated. He'd been fine, earlier, but now he can hardly sit still. There's a nervous downturn to the corner of his mouth; mustache twitching slightly while he fiddles with the silverware.

"You can say no," he starts, which is never a good sign. You can say no typically precludes +1 invitations to stuffy industry events, or equally unpleasant obligations at which he wants company. (Of course, you don't usually say no. But, still...)

The distinct lack of eye contact is making you sweat. He's staring at his plate like the eggplant owes him a grave debt.

"Pedge." You reach to still his hand, gently squeezing until he looks up. "Whatever it is, you know I'll say yes."

"I want you to mean it, though." A pause, as Pedro pulls your hand to his lips, placing a kiss to the center of your palm. "I don't want you to say yes for the sake of saying yes."

"I won't. You're scaring me a bit, though. Are we hiding a body? "

His laugh is strained. "No, no. Sorry. Sorry, this is— I didn't want it to— ugh," he shakes his head. "Can we start over?"

Before you can respond, he pushes back in his chair, rising from the table. Pats himself down, fumbles to find something in his back pocket. Takes a deep breath, and—

Oh.

Beside you, right at the kitchen table, between the dog bowls and the sink full of dirty pots and pans, Pedro drops to one knee.

"Pedro—"

"I said I was gonna prepare a whole thing," he mumbles, "but I don't think I can wait any longer. Also figured you'd kill me if it became a spectacle."

It is your turn to laugh, wetly, choked on the lump that has formed in the back of your throat.

"I know we're marked, and we live together, and have two dumb little dogs, and more or less already act like an old married couple. I just thought maybe filing joint taxes could be cool, too."

Pedro sniffs, swiping once at under his eye with the hand that also holds a small velvet pouch. "Waited a long, long time to meet you. Kinda gave up on the mark altogether. But it was worth it, all the waiting. I would very, very much like to spend the rest of my life with you. And then some."

You're on the floor before you feel yourself move, kneeling before him. Cup his face in your hands. Brush away another errant tear that's spilled from the corner of his eye. This sweet fucking man.

"I love you," Pedro says quietly. "More than I ever thought possible."

"I love you, too." His lips are dry and warm when you press a chaste kiss against them. "Thank you for waiting for me."

You move to stand up. "Come on, your knees must be killing you."

"I need to ask the question!" He pouts.

"Oops, sorry. Please continue, Mr. Pascal."

"Balmaceda Pascal, thank you."

"I don't think we can hyphenate, babe, it's gonna be too long. They'll run out of room on the certificate."

"We can't get the certificate if you don't let me ask you this damn question!"

Finally, carefully, a gold band is extracted from the velvet bag. Simple, but stunning. Two stones are pressed to the center, small, side-by-side. "They're, uh, our birthstones," he says quietly. "But we can change it if you don't like it, it's OK."

You shake your head, unable to form a coherent word around the swell of your heart, threatening to choke you.

"The parm's gonna get cold," Pedro exhales shakily, locking eyes. "So I was wondering if you would do me the honor of marrying me?"

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with your stupid heart. But when it does, you're already moving from the kitchen, to the back doorway. Pedro, rising from the floor, looks fucking confused.

"One sec, one sec," you call, taking the stairs two at a time.

After a moment, you return, box in hand. "I've been carrying this around since May. Sit down."

Stunned, Pedro obliges.

"To answer your question," you start, lowering to replicate his kneeling position, "I have a proposition. I'll marry you if you marry me."

Inside the box, another gold ring. You remove it with a shockingly steady hand.

Pedro pauses, eyes catching on something: a familiar date, engraved on the inside of the ring. Without his cheaters, he is forced to hold the ring away from his face, squinting at the numbers.

"Is this..."

"The day I knocked."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal rpf #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #the mandolorian #din djarin x male reader #joel miller x male reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #din djarin x reader

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piratefishmama · 9 months

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i know i mention Hope's destructive shenanigans more than i mention her plus points, but i'd like to mention:

she loves The Mummy. The 1999 one. She will sit there, just watching that with me, whenever i have it on. Last time she sat on me as we watched it. i think it's Brendan, she likes george of the jungle too.

Cuddling her is like cuddling a cloud. She's so soft, and unlike Shadow, who is very much against snuggles, she will sit there for hours and let you just cuddle the heckie out of her.

she is beautiful, i mean seriously, look at this face

She's perfect.

She's an absolute DREAM to walk on a lead, unlike Shadow who has never even remotely taken to walking nicely on a lead even with several trainers attempting to tame him, he's a menace, last time i took them both out at the same time he slipped his lead and took off, i only caught him cause he tried to start a fight with another dog in a garden. Now i walk them separately.

She just walks nicely beside me.

She doesnt steal or beg for food like Shadow does, she sits there out of the way.

Shadow opens doors around the house and steals things, he opens the fridge and grabs whatever he can before we catch him, cupboards pilfered, oven, microwave, he figured out the first round of child locks and destroyed them, so we had to get better ones. All the doors in the house have bolt locks, because of him.

Hope doesnt seem to be smart enough to work out the doors as by her age, Shadow had already figured them all out, so we know we wont have to deal with that again. It's just stuff.

it can be fixed, it can be replaced.

She's just a puppy.

And i enjoy shaming her for her silly shenanigans that she will grow out of. Akitas are just... a pain for the first few years, apparently that is pretty common, as every Akita owner we've ever met has reported pretty much the same thing.

#personal #Pirates Puppies

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neopronouns-in-action · 1 year

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Neopronouns in Action #044: Malfunction or Mutiny

Neopronouns: fae/faer/faerself which follow the same rules as she/her/(hers)/herself

Replace she with fae

Replace her with faer

Replace hers with faers

Replace herself with faerself

EX:

"She is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as she gets a fence set up around her yard so the puppy can go outside without her having to walk it. Her uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he's letting her use, since she lost hers. She's going to buy toys and train the puppy herself."

Becomes:

"Fae is going to adopt a new puppy soon, as soon as fae gets a fence set up around faer yard so the puppy can go outside without faer having to walk it. Faer uncle is going to help set up the fence, since he has a set of power tools he's letting faer use, since fae lost faers. Fae's going to buy toys and train the puppy faerself."

================

“--Look, if we can just stick to the plan and keep detours to a minimum, it's going to take us an extra two weeks to get to City, but we'll get there. We just have to conserve as much fuel as we can. Only minimal lights at night, okay? We've got plenty of candles, we can use those for reading light, and save the batteries. Copy?”

Fae waited for the response, which should have come almost immediately. No one was allowed to go anywhere without their radio, and the radios operated on separate batteries than the boats.

“Do you copy?” Fae repeated, starting to get simultaneously concerned and frustrated. All day, faer requests for information on the radio had gone unanswered almost half the time. Most of the soldiers weren't answering even for basic necessary checks. But now not even Vrx. Dreland wasn't answering faer?

Either he was dead, or...fae had a bigger problem on faer hands than just malfunctioning radios.

The crossboards had already been lowered for the night, and through the darkness below the cloudy sky, fae could see the lights shining faintly through the fog over the black waves.

It was a long walk over the crossboard to reach the other side of the caravan. Stationed in the directory, fae was the only one on this side. There should have been at least fifteen other people to help faer, at minimum, but that...just wasn't going to happen any time soon. Too many people were afflicted with the plague, there just weren't enough people well enough to help fill out the caravan roster.

The only reason fae was even able to be here in the first place was because the Arvretian military had volunteered to help fill out the staff with the Verix Unit. A mission of mercy was, the Admiral said, always a worthy quest for the Verix Unit.

Fae had just been too relieved to question that statement when fae'd heard it. It'd been two full days since fae'd slept, too busy frantically trying to muster nonexistant personel to help complete the mission to City, and the next thing fae knew with any clarity was waking up on the first day of the mission, feeling like absolute shit with a pounding headache and feeling so tired it was almost like fae'd never slept at all.

By the time fae'd gotten done just doing the bare minimum of heating up faer rations in the oven under the solar shield, there were so many other things to worry and think about besides questioning by the military was so eager to send one of its most highly trained combat forces on a mission of peace.

True, City was legally part of Arvretia, and had been since it had been annexed fifty years before, but the resistance was still fighting strong, and most “real Arvretians”, despite the forceful demands of the government, did not consider it to really be apart of the country, and thought the people who lived there were parasites “leeching off Arvretian blood to further their own agendas”, completely glossing over the fact that it was Arvretia that had conquered City, rather than City demanding to be made part of Arvretia.

That first day on the caravan, though, fae hadn't had time to think about any of that. There were too many inventories to complete and maps to triple-check and make sure all the solar panels were working the way they should and that the solar shield wasn't damaged.

For the first few days, everything had gone...well, as well as could be expected for a caravan with only one trained member of the staff.

But then the fuel tank had turned out to only have a little more than half of what they should have. Vrx. Dreland had gone on a rage, swearing and yelling and cursing incompetent loaders and checkers at the port so loudly that fae had to turn faer radio's volume down to the lowest audible setting to stop it from bursting into static overload.

Vrx. Dreland had seemed so genuinely upset that fae'd chocked the loss up to an accident. The port was just as severely understaffed as they were, it wasn't anyone's fault that part of their fuel allotment got misplaced. They could still make it to City with careful rationing of power resources. Lower speeds, letting the wind push them when it could, and only the minimum requirement of lights at night to avoid a collision with another boat.

(Not that there were likely to be any other boats out at sea, but no one was expecting them to be out here, either, so they had to assume they weren't the only ones).

But now this. A whole day with only spotty communications, and now Vrx. Dreland himself seemed to be ignoring faer.

Fae gave it one last try with the radio, asking, “Do you copy? Vrx. Dreland, are you receiving me?”

But still the only response fae got back was the buzz of empty static.

Fae stared out the small porthole and over the long, dark crossboard, the sky above almost as black as the waves below, the only lights visible the white, flickering squares of the other boats, pulled up in single-file, the metal of the hull lost in the darkness.

...One way or another, whether this was a malfunction or a mutiny...

Fae was going to have to go over there...

#long post #neopronouns in action #neopronoun writing prompts #writing prompts #fantasy #dystopia #RIP #fae/faer #faefaerpronouns #fae/faer/(faers)/faerself #fae/faer/faers/faerself #neopronoun short story #neopronouns #novapronouns

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brokenfoxproductions · 9 months

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So, I have my housing inspection today and the head of my county's housing authority stated that there was no evidence that me or my family did anything wrong but at this point our landlords are so hell-bent on charging us money for stuff that we didn't do that it's just not safe for us to stay here. She even noticed how horrible our landlords were treating us during the inspection and personally apologize at one point for how long we've been putting up with this. I mentioned that I went as far as to contact the former tenants that lived here immediately before us as well as the people who lived here whenever our landlords bought the property, and that they had similar experiences of being extorted out of money for stuff that wasn't their fault and eventually threatened with eviction whenever the landlords realized that they couldn't get away with it anymore. I physically handed the director of our local housing authority the chewed up oven knob that we were told the day we moved in was caused by the former tenants' Pitbull mix (which he confirmed with us he actually paid for that oven to be replaced prior to us moving in because he admitted that his dog caused the damage). I explained to her all of the circumstances surrounding everything and all of the miscommunications that were going on, and we ended up on the same page and she seemed completely understanding that we weren't the bad guys in this situation. We are being scammed by people who think that being landlords is the same as being an actual feudal Lord.

My partner recorded the entire interaction, including the head of the housing authority telling us that our house looked perfectly fine and that our landlords were being unreasonable. During that conversation, though, my landlords were in the kitchen taking photos of the marks on the linoleum that were here before we moved in as well as a very small amount of spilled rice from my breakfast on the counter, as if a few grains of rice or something that we have documented was here before we moved in is going to be the catalyst in our eviction. My landlords are a couple in their 50s and I found it disturbing that the wife of this couple was making weird comments and fake laughing like a high school mean girl the entire time, and she took several photos and videos of me and my partner without asking or telling us beforehand. (We specifically told everyone who was coming into the home when they entered that we were recording for our own safety and so that housing would have a video of the entire interaction. Meanwhile I randomly looked down at one point and realized that my landlord was taking pictures of my crotch and butt and fake laughing while we were talking with her and the people from the housing authority.)

I reiterated to the head of the housing authority several times that I don't care if we have to move out, and I would prefer to move out at this point because my children and I don't feel safe, but our only concern is that we don't have the money to move without having a voucher for housing wherever we move to unless we become homeless again. I shouldn't have to choose between being harassed constantly or my family and I becoming homeless, and the head of the housing authority agrees, but she also acknowledged that that is the situation that our landlords are trying to force us into.

I also heard back from Pennsylvania psychiatric Institute and they somehow decided after all of the bullshit that they put me through that they messed up. They already discharged me from outpatient psychiatry but they acknowledge that that was the wrong thing to do so they're calling me next week to schedule a new appointment with a different doctor rather than making me wait 6 months to see a new psychiatrist there like they usually would for someone who was discharged. It's funny how it took several weeks of calling back and forth and showing up asking to talk to someone for this to happen. It's also funny how they came to this decision after I pointed out that I've had people DM me on here and contact me through the business email that I use for my YouTube channel stating that they had similar interactions and I told them that I was considering protesting outside with as many people as I could find who also had bad experiences.

Like I've said before, I'm really not sorry about the fact that I am strong-willed and I maintain my morals and stand My ground whenever I feel as though I or someone around me is being wronged, because even though it's stressful in the moment and causes a lot of drama, I found that in the long run I always end up vindicated and proven correct in whatever I was trying to do. And even whenever I don't end up "winning", I would still rather know that I stood up for myself and supported my morals rather than having allowed myself to do something that I wasn't okay with or be forced into a situation that I was not okay with.

I spent way too many years of my life being compliant and Silent towards my abusers and those around me who I know are causing harm to continue doing it as an adult. I'm too old to sit around and say nothing. I'm too tired and too fed up to keep doing nothing.

#life upd8 #life update #broken fox productions #pennsylvania psychiatric institute #central pennsylvania #Pennsylvania #mental health services #mental health #physical disability #landlord abuse #landlord tenant #capitalism #low income housing #systemic abuse #systemic oppression #systemic ableism #autism #ptsd #cptsd

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creativebrainrot · 10 months

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Open Journal Entry

long one. TLDR: This fucking house sucks and it's never felt like a home to me. I want out but the WAITING,,,,, its suffocating. we'll be out eventually. Im so sick of waiting though. I miss the. eight months, where I felt truly alive for the first time in my entire life. I want a car back. I want to move out. I want to leave all this misery and abuse behind us already. I want a life. I am going insane.

But the horrors wont fucking win because I am NOTHING if not fueled by spite and fury.

I wanna talk about my experience with this house I'm currently stuck in, and have been stuck in for 22 years now.

I do not have a single memory of feeling safe within this house, or a single memory of enjoying this house. I have memories of enjoying the wilderness nearby, the front yard, the back yard, the creek way out back. But not the house.

I felt safe in the bath as a kid. I feel safe dissociating in the shower. I have spent ages avoiding being fully-lucid in this house. Numbing myself by diving into video games, the internet, consuming media like video essays about random shit, political commentary, let's plays, etc. Anything that I could hide in and avoid being aware of my situation with.

Music and art were big ones for escaping.

Everything about this house is falling apart.

I finally felt alive for the first time in my entire life in 2022. And yet. 2022 had the worst months of my entire life within it.

And now. I'm stuck. Waiting. Again. Just like I have been my entire fucking life. Stuck, in the middle of nowhere, without people my age, without places I enjoy seeing, without people who care in my offline personal life.

Waiting. For the day my dad can tell me we are finally free.

We had no idea that we had so much legal bullshit we needed to sort after my father died in late january this year. So, we've had to deal with all of it; the confusion, the legal shit, the pain, the helplessness, etc, as we discover every new fucking step we weren't told about and couldn't find the answer to. because we're both neurodivergent, and traumatized. that affects a lot of what we are able to do and what we aren't.

I'm fucking tired of announcing what should be good news, over and over and over, only to find that there's more fucking waiting on the other side. Hope, hurts. Right now everytime I start to hope I start to hurt so i've just been living in numbness since march this year.

The pump & water is fucked up, we have to work around it. We have running water, but we have to turn off the pump everytime we're done using it.

The AC is broken. It was replaced a few years ago and now it's the wrong type of AC for our house. It doesnt fucking work and our bedrooms are little ovens because of it. I have had to move my mattress into my studio, the only room with a window AC.

I have been stuck with a fucking twin bed since I was 15. Which, while technically a useable size for me, I cannot begin to unravel and to explain the kind of demoralizing and humiliating being stuck with the same fucked up "not a real bed or Adult Mattress" is for me.

Fucking bugs get inside ALL THE GODDAMN TIME.

We haven't been able to work doordash for MONTHS now and I miss that routine so goddamn much.

I finally had a real life for the first time ever in my entire life, and its gone. Because we were lied to. Kept in the dark. Didn't realize how bad our situation was, until it was too late.

The only reason we are okay, is because of kindness from my friends and kindness from our neighbors.

I just want this to be over now.

I have never felt happy in this house. My dad and I never have the energy to clean it. I barely have the energy to take care of myself. I used to work out and exercise, I used to feel so happy. We ate good food and I got to cook and have fun and feel normal for awhile.

then the car broke down.

This house has always felt either neutral or fucking miserable. I've watched so many beloved pets die in this house. I've only ever been abused in this house. I've felt so fucking depressed in this house.

It's not even in an area where I can escape to a friend's house, or walk to a park, or enjoy any amenities. Because it's in the middle of fucking nowhere, retirement neighborhoods for rich old white republicans who wouldn't fucking speak to us if they knew who we really were. It's only because my dad masks as a ditzy old white lady that they're so nice to him.

I hate it here. I've been suffocating here long enough. I can't handle another year.

I think it might break me.

Everytime I'm remotely fully lucid in this house, I feel like shit. I remember things that I want to forget. I've dreamed of moving out and having my own place since I was a child. I thought my life would be better when I was 19- to be kind to fate, it was. Much better when I was 19. But not the normal fulfilling life I wanted to have.

I want out because everything we are currently dealing with is residual abuse from my father's financial abuse of us.

I need to leave this place. There's so much fucking sorrow and pain here for me that I just want to forget and move on from. not to mention this state it's self is fucking miserable to live in.

And, we will be. It's just the waiting. The waiting hurts. But I'd rather keep waiting for a brighter tomorrow than do something I can't take back.

I want to see our pets happy and healthy again, in a house with furniture for them. Collars with their name tags and vet tags on them. All fluffy and talkative and cute again.

I want better healthcare access so that I can stop panicking about my dad's mortality- he's fine, but I am so scared I'll lose him to something avoidable before we have the stability to get checkups and such. I want the option available to fucking transition already. I need HRT. Life is so fucking miserable everyday that I can't start being myself finally.

I want a house that I actually like. A place that represents new opportunities and new memories and REAL TRUE FREEDOM, freedom from all this abuse, freedom from my miserable first quarter of life alive. Freedom from debt that was never our fucking fault. A place I can be lucid in, and maybe actually have energy in.

And we'll probably get it. It's just, the waiting.

The second person we are attempting to sell this piece of shit to, is someone who purchases and flips houses for a living. He's offered the same amount of money as our neighbor did.

I'm so fucking glad that the paperwork is all on my dad's side and that we even HAVE a house to sell in this current climate.

Because that means we might get to move into the house my dad thought we were going to have all those years ago. I can't begin to tell you how many lies our abuser told us.

#kinda rambley. was meant to have a point. my thoughts arent coherent though.#the horrors (residual effects of financial abuse) hate to see a bad bitch (me. my dad.) winning. (continuing despite it all.)#(through gritted teeth unimaginable fury in my voice) But I stay sillay :3 #rottingjournals #rotthoughts

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pastelhombre · 10 months

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Necessary Home Products, Kitchen Edition

There are quite a few products that would greatly improve our day to day lives. But, as we currently live in a small house with my parents, it's impossible to store and keep track of these things when they are... you know, how they are... So when we get a place of our own and organize how we want and need, I definitely want to make space for these. In no particular order, here are products that will make our kitchen experience better.

Glam Gloves/ Reusable Gloves

I only say glam gloves in particular, because they are the most easily recognizable of this variation of product. A separate pair for dishwashing and then cleaning, because it is unbearable to wash dishes barehanded. Touching wet soggy food? No thank you. And we shouldn't be cleaning things hand directly to chemical cleanser.

Currently $2.97 on Walmart.com

Bottle Scrubber

This product, already in our arsenal has been a savior when washing. First, better reach and clean for cups and bottles, and also great to scrub plates and bowls with! Also creates another barrier when putting in some gloveless hand-washing.

Currently $1.25 at Dollar Tree

Coconut Oil (Butcher Boy)

This coconut oil is not only coconut oil, a beautiful, versatile product that I mostly use for skin and hair care, but is affordable too. Places like walmart and other stores have larger containers, but they start at around $6. These smaller, can-sized bottles last me a very long time at only $1.25.

Currently $1.25 at Dollar Tree

Basic Seasonings: Morton's Season All Salt, Garlic Powder/Jar-lic, Onion Powder

Nothing more to say, these are the basics that need to be incorporated when cooking.

Onion Powder 3.25 oz - $1.12 Morton's Season All Salt 16 oz - $3.54 Garlic Powder 3.4 oz - $1.12 Jar-lic 8 oz - $2.16 (All Available at Walmart)

Dale's Steak Seasoning

Phenomenal product for beef. Love to use this when making pot roast. I've also tried making oven jerky with this and ground beef before and it wasn't perfect jerky, but it was close and it was AMAZING. We've never made steaks before, but if we did get into steak-ing, this probably would be used too.

Currently $3.77 at Walmart

Mini Moonpies (Dollar Tree)

Nice snack that comes with 6 for $1.25. I love the taste, the chewy marshmallow, the multitude, and the price. Also the banana ones are yummy as well.

Currently $1.25 at Dollar Tree

Bees Wrap/ Plastic Wrap Replacement

Wonderful products that hold and preserve better than plastic wrap, is reusable and better for the environment. When I stored things such as chicken or rice, I noticed they are actually sealing better and they don't get dried out after a few days like when using cheapo plastic. It could possibly be because it is easier to accidentally move the plastic wrap than the wax wrap because the plastic warps and stretches when hot, while the wax hardens when cold. Either way, lest pfas touching your food, the better.

A cute, pink floral 3-pack is available on Amazon for $7.99

Kitchen Thermometer

Something that would be super useful for a novice chef like me who is expanding my palate. My boyfriend likes seafood and softer cooked meats, while I am from an immigrant mother who is used to cooking meat till it is a bit charred or slow cooking overnight. I'm not even confident cooking sunny side up or soft-boiled eggs. There was also that time where I was trying to fry oreos and used a stick in meat thermometer to measure the heat and instantly burned the outside of the batter while the inside was still gooey.

Currently available on Amazon for $13.88

Reusable Paper Towels/Rags

Another product that is good for the environment and cost effective. Instead of barreling through paper towels and filling up trashcans, spending more and more on something that could just be washed and reused, BOOM. These bad boys.

Temu has some really cool Wood-Pulp based cloths that dry hard, but soften when wet starting at $3.98

Kitchen Scissors

Having devoted scissors that aren't contaminated by craft materials is a necessity. Also not contaminating crafting supplies with meat juice or saucy scissors is a necessity as well. Available at Walmart for $0.97

Strainer

I've made pasta and homemade apple cider this past week and a trainer/colander is a big must have. Having to search for the one in my mom's kitchen was an atrocious process and I will have a dedicated hook or corner for mine in my home. Available at Dollar Tree for $1.25

#products #kitchen

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localapplicance · 1 year

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What Is Whirlpool Oven Repair

Along with the Whirlpool name, the firm is also renowned for its well-known brands Maytag, KitchenAid, Jenn-Air, Gladiator Garage Works, Inglis, Estate, Brastemp, Consul, and Bauknecht. The majority of countries on earth can buy their items. Our knowledgeable field specialists provide repairs and maintenance services for your Whirlpool oven repair.

Simply click the Submit option on this page if you require service for your Whirlpool oven, and one of our skilled experts will contact you as soon as they can. To carry out the necessary services at your location, we'll send one of our mobile service vans. We provide non-warranty Whirlpool oven repairs and maintenance using genuine Whirlpool replacement components.

In addition to the Whirlpool brand, the corporation also has several well-known names. We provide expert maintenance and superior servicing for Whirlpool ovens. Whirlpool is the world's biggest maker of home appliances.

The bulk of Sydney's suburbs are already covered by our mobile specialists, and demand for our services is rising. We will expand to more places as soon as competent, neighborhood techs become available. We don't want our staff to take unnecessary risks, nor do we want you to wait too long for repair help. We apologize, but we do not offer coverage for CBD.

Our technicians are experts in taking care of clients in addition to taking care of household appliances. Our techs are qualified customer service representatives who respect the needs of our consumers. All of our technicians are licensed and insured for your peace of mind. Local Appliance Repair was established by a group of professionals who realized that customers needed to communicate with someone who could both understand their problem and act on a solution.

As a consequence, the partnership of knowledgeable and capable professionals with local clients is the basis of our company strategy. We know we have the right people working for us since we've grown carefully and steadily because we're committed to technician-driven service and customer delight. with the CBD being the exception.

#Chef oven repairs #whirlpool oven repair #bosch dishwasher repair

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grillsadvisor · 1 year

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anonymusbosch · 4 years

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first the AC and now this???

#i would be more charitable about this if I had one (1) piece of evidence that this place did preventive maintenance ever #nothing is fixed until it's broken #yesterday I replaced our AC air vent filter and cleaned out dust behind it which had clearly been accumulating for years #we've been here less than a year #our carbon monoxide detector started doing its end-of-life beep which it does after 10 years when they're supposed to be replaced after 5 #our oven was old enough and falling apart enough to spew carbon monoxide whenever we turned it on #through 2 maintenance requests #until I called the gas company and they sent a technician who gave the landlord a legal You Need To Fix This document #and big DANGER PELIGRO tag #this has happened once already this year too #but not when I couldn't go to campus to use the g d restroom or get water #not very social distancing of you

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college-au-masterblog · 5 years

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Title: Match my Breath

Chapter 4: A Spark

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Kokichi and Shuichi keep their mouths moving but fail to talk, again.

Content warning: Explicit sex, implied sex as self-harm. Under the cut, there is self-harm, panic attacks, self-hate, and internalized victim-blaming.

Additional tags: College/Grad school AU, Trans characters, miscommunication, nipple play, oral fixation, kink discovery, body worship, breath play

Notes:

Finally finished the latest chapter to this fic!!

The chapter is pasted under the cut, but if you read I would love if you commented on Ao3! I’m still p new to fic writing and would love feedback.

Thank you to @dietshuichi my love, pall, and collaborator. I put the breathplay in 4 u.

[[MORE]]

Kokichi pushed Shuichi lips first, hands quickly pressing onto his cheek, pushing up underneath his shirt. Shuichi had to hold his arms out to avoid tripping over his own feet. Kokichi's kisses were rapid yet purposeful, starting shots for a race with a visible finish line; Kokichi barreled forward.

Shuichi's lower lip had just been sucked into Kokichi's violent mouth when Shuichi pulled back, teeth scraping against him in the process. They didn't speak, but it was far from silent. Kokichi watched straight-faced and wide-eyed as Shuichi pulled down his shirt and attempted to catch his breath.

Well, this is going to be even quicker than I thought, Kokichi mused as he braced himself for the familiar rejection he sought.

But Shuichi didn't shout or scoff or laugh. Kokichi thought Shuichi might retaliate, and winced as he maintained eye contact and raised his open palm. But his hand moved past Kokichi's head and onto the door, pushing it closed.

The door. Which had been open.

Oh.

Shuichi smiled too gently and spoke, "Ah-a, hi."

CLICK

Kokichi heard the lock behind him close, then the deadbolt, and the other deadbolt.

Shuichi had a thing for security.

Once the door had been properly closed, Shuichi wrapped his arms around Kokichi's waist. He bent at the knee to get to an appropriate angle and spun so that his back was now to the door, practically lifting Kokichi in the process. Kokichi hated himself for letting his weight fall onto Shuichi's welcoming arms.

Shuichi's smile refused to falter as he continued,

"Now, what the fuck are you wearing?

Oh.

Right.

Kokichi had forgotten about his ingenious solution for February ho-ery and had just dommed up his crush in a hot pink, floor-length, fluffy, marshmallow coat.

The walking sleeping bag.

Kokichi continued unphased. "Only my sleekest seduction wear. What? You're too good for "Baby's First Snow" couture? Slaying in Sleigh-bells? Marsh-my-Mello and puff me up Zaddy.

Shuichi broke into laughter, and Kokichi took the pause in active conversation as an opportunity to reflect. Anything to drown out that laugh.

Admittedly, Kokichi had been focused on other things. In fact, despite the physical nature of his actions, he had intentionally separated himself from his body. The point of this wasn't to feel. It was to stop the feeling.

But why did Shuichi have to look at him like that?

His detective was clearly amused.

But more importantly, he wasn't his.

Kokichi looked up at Shuichi with mischievous eyes and then turned his gaze downwards towards his own body, inviting Shuichi to do the same. Kokichi pulled on the zipper and revealed what he was wearing underneath, certain that Shuichi would be more enthralled by what he wasn't wearing.

When Kokichi glanced up again, he was pleased to see that this time, Shuichi's eyes hadn't followed along. Instead, they were lingering somewhere closer to Kokichi's thighs. Kokichi lowered his voice, "I wanted to surprise you," he stepped out of the coat completely, kicking it behind him with his stride. "Well," He was only inches away from Shuichi now, "Are you surprised?"

The laughter was gone, replaced by heavy breaths and unfocused, hungry eyes.

Before Shuichi could respond, Kokichi gripped the front of his shirt with both hands and slammed into him once again. He pulled Shuichi around pushed them both backward, not stopping until the backs of Shuichi's knees hit the edge of his couch.

With a final shove, Shuichi fell backward onto the plush cushions, eyes wide and arms raised above his head. Kokichi kicked off his shoes, climbed on top of him, and mashed their lips together. Kokichi was relieved to feel that Shuichi was already at least partially erect. This shouldn't take too long, Kokichi assured himself as he aggressively massaged the growing bulge to further expedite the process.

Kokichi tried his best to ignore the hands wandering his own body, save for ducking out of the way when they neared any spot that might be too vulnerable, too sensitive, too difficult to ignore.

Kokichi simultaneously slipped his tongue into Shuichi's welcoming mouth and fumbled with the other man's pants, eventually releasing the button and undoing the zipper. Kokichi pulled Shuichi's pants down just enough to expose his cock. Shuichi gasped at the sudden shock of cool air, only to fall back into a moan as Kokichi stroked his erection.

As soon as his dick felt suitably hard, Kokichi lifted his torso up, pushed his sturdy black underwear to the side, and moved to ride Shuichi, when he was stopped by a trembling hand. Shuichi had lifted just enough to push Kokichi's hips aside. His expression was decidedly concerned as he furrowed his brows at Kokichi.

Kokichi paused at the sudden interference before continuing knowingly "Sweet~chi, I've been tested, and this slut is a hundo-P STI free! Now if it's other concerns that have got your briefs climbing up your ass," Kokichi rubbed the space between his stomach and crotch. "With the hormonal situation I've got going on, plus my Lil' Copper Buddy- Let's just say that if you manage to get anything cookin' in this oven, we've got a lot more biblical armageddon-y problems than any clinic could deal with. Anndd on the topic of second comings~.

Shuichi's groaned, his body spasming and mouth opening wide as he felt the tip of his dick enter Kokichi.

But when he opened his eyes, he saw an image that immediately stripped the situation of any pleasure.

Kokichi's face was contorted in pain. He was wincing, steadying himself on the couch with a trembling hand as he tried to force his wholly unprepared body down onto Shuichi.

Shuichi felt his eyes water as he adjusted his hips to separate from Kokichi. Shuichi attempted to reach towards his face, but the moment Kokichi felt him pull out, the grimace was replaced by a charming smirk. Kokichi's face looked at ease.

But his hand was still trembling.

"What's the matter Sweeeechiiii? Hoping to fuck my mouth instead? Nishishi~ One fuck, and you're already bored of that hole? Well, luckily~ I have others."

Before Kokichi could dip his head, Shuichi cupped Kokichi's chin and lifted him up.

Shuichi's experience with sex was undeniably limited, and it was difficult for him to ascertain what was "normal" second hook-up behavior. However, he knew Kokichi well enough to know that this wasn't his normal. Something was up, so Shuichi wasn't.

Adjusting himself back into his briefs and lifting his body back into a sitting position, Shuichi stammered. "U-Um, a-actually," Shuichi knew better than to trust in Kokichi's cool expression. He focused instead on Kokichi's hand as he dug his nails into the side of Shuichi's couch.

Shuichi gave Kokichi what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I just think this might be fun somewhere more comfortable, you know? I'm, ah, kind of falling off here."

He wasn't lying. His couch was not a stranger to sexual encounters, but like 99% of Shuichi's history, it was limited to solo trips and sized appropriately. Good for a quick release if he got home from work a bit too stressed, or annoyed, or distracted by a daydream he had on the ride home, and just couldn't make it to the bed. Not intended for real-life dalliances with real-life cuties, whose blessed weight pressed against him, and also pressed his back into the less-pleasant hardness of the couch's base. His lanky legs were awkwardly dangling, unable to fit onto the limited cushion space.

Kokichi took in the unbalanced positioning and stated factually, "Hm, I see your point. And I'd much rather see your other point. Welp, Let me just move my cutie Lil' booty over to the floor and you can just-" But he was cut off by Shuichi moving off the couch first.

"I have a different idea- if you don't mind."

Before Kokichi could question him again, Shuichi scooped the smaller boy into his arms and held him up.

"I want to take you to my bed."

Kokichi hadn't prepared for this. Bridal-style carrying was not on the agenda, did not align with their roles, but here Shuichi was, going off-script.

Shuichi's room wasn't very far away, a fact for which Shuichi's un-trained arms were grateful. He really didn't want to be thinking about Kaito right now, but he felt his disappointed presence, chastising him for every weight un-lifted. As he moved through the "hallway," which was really more an extension of the living room/kitchen, his mind flashed images of Kokichi's strained face. Notably, Kokichi, who was always so careful with his expressions, deliberate in his disarming, hadn't tried to conceal the hurt, not until Shuichi pulled away. Shuichi wanted to doubt his own deduction as he connected cruel dots.

He didn't think he had to.

Kokichi didn't think his visible discomfort would dissuade him. Shuichi felt ill. Did people usually fuck him without any consideration for his pain, let alone his pleasure? How many times had it been like this? How many people saw tears in his eyes and kept going?

He held Kokichi tighter as they neared the door. He turned around, used his hip to turn the knob, and walked backward into the space, careful not to bang Kokichi's head. He laid Kokichi onto his bed, allowing his head to rest onto a pillow. Shuichi paused before joining him and traced his fingers back and forth along Kokichi's thighs.

Shuichi took a breath and asked, "Can I undress you?"

He looked to Kokichi for a response and was happy to see a serene expression. Kokichi's mouth was agape, and his eyes were glazed over, pointed in the general direction of Shuichi's lingering hands. The light tickle-scratch touch had soothed him. Then, as if waking from a dream, Kokichi swallowed and blinked up, mouth tightening as he sneered,

"Ugh, FINE. I guess if Shuichi needs a bit more ~visual stimuli~, I can accommodate,"

Kokichi kept riffing as Shuichi pulled off his own shirt and positioned himself above Kokichi on the bed. "Now are we doing this or should I get my outerwear back on, cause I'll have you know that the full marshmallowzation process can take up to ten union minutes and-"

Shuichi kissed Kokichi before he could continue.

Shuichi kissed him laggardly, in defiance of Kokichi's tempo. He found that he had no choice but to submit to the decadent, horrible, sensation.

Kokichi felt the hands he had been dodging traverse his body. One hand cradled his neck, fingers reaching to rest in his hair, and the other started at his thighs and traveled upwards, lingering below his waist and massaging the muscles around his hip bone. Kokichi's moans couldn't drown out the alarms ringing in his head. DANGER.

Too much. Too good.

Not real.

Kokichi might have attempted another snide remark had Shuichi not dragged the hand that was on his neck down to the frayed edge of his cropped shirt. Shuichi pressed his palms flat onto Kokichi's stomach and pushed underneath his top, pushing the fabric up and revealing Kokichi's chest. Shuichi's hands ran over Kokichi's hardening nipples, and the contact incited an involuntary cry. Kokichi spasmed with pleasure, jumping into the touch then falling back, breath heavy, feeling conflicted about Shuichi discovering the extent of his sensitivity.

With the pads of his fingers, Shuichi lightly tapped Kokichi's nipples, testing a hypothesis. Once again, Kokichi whimpered, this time, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to fight against the needlessly overwhelming sensation. Shuichi felt he had likely confirmed his theory, but extra assurance couldn't hurt. He let his fingers rest on Kokichi, rubbing gently in small circles as he spoke. "You're really sensitive here, aren't you?"

Kokichi thought it was a shitty question.

But he didn't say that, couldn't say much of anything when his whole body seemed focused on the minute movements of Shuichi's hands.

Kokichi hated this, or at least, he hated not hating it. He hated himself. He knew this couldn't go anywhere good, and yet he didn't move, didn't want to. He desperately wanted to live in this world, this space where Shuichi cared for him and kissed him softly and didn't let him hurt. He wanted it even if it wouldn't last. He was disgusted with himself for indulging in his sick fantasy.

He hated liars.

But if he was going to hurt anyway,

Kokichi wrapped his arms around Shuichi and pulled him down, fully intending on bringing him into a deep kiss. Their lips met, but Kokichi only had a moment to savor the feeling of Shuichi's tongue entering his mouth before he was forced back with an embarrassing squeal. Shuichi had pinched his chest, hard.

Kokichi absolutely expected Shuichi to be laughing and was surprised to see that Shuichi was just as wrecked as he was. He was just barely avoiding drooling out of his panting mouth. They kept their faces close as Shuchi continued toying with Kokichi's reddened chest, loving the way his fingers could make the other boy cry out into his mouth. Enthused by the desperation in Kokichi's eyes, Shuichi lifted Kokichi's shirt off of him and tossed it to the side. Kokichi compulsively pouted when Shuichi first took those incredible fingers away, but he moaned in delighted relief as Shuichi raked his fingernails down his body, down his arms, over his chest, stopping at the tops of his thigh highs.

Shuichi looked up at Kokichi and stated, "I didn't finish undressing you." Shuichi locked eyes with Kokichi, waiting for the go-ahead. As soon as Kokichi gave him a gentle nod, Shuichi lowered to Kokichi's thighs. Kokichi gasped as he felt teeth scrape against his inner thighs, followed by wet kisses trailing down his newly exposed legs. Shuichi lowered the stockings inch by inch, taking care to cover each revealed bit of flesh with open-mouthed kisses. Kokichi trembled and tried desperately to tune out the lingering warning bells.

He fell into Shuichi, enveloped in his warmth. He knew the spark would come and if he was sinking into tar, he didn't care because, at that moment, it was more than worth the cost of getting burned.

Once Shuichi reached the ends of Kokichi's legs, he quickly pulled off the stockings and kissed the tips of his feet. He was almost entirely naked now. Almost.

Kokichi looked at Shuichi and saw intense determination. He moved purposefully yet tenderly up Kokichi's body, this time, giving him only teasing pecks along the way. Kokichi, selfishly, stupidly, craved more. His legs parted unconsciously, his body revealing the desire his mind wanted to hide.

Kokichi held his breath as Shuichi reached the edge of his underwear.

Kokichi's mind raced. Shuichi could run away, Shuichi could leave, he didn't want to be with him, why would he do something so intimate with a guy who was just an easy fuck.

Shuichi positioned his face in front of Kokichi's clothed cock. His mouth hung open, and Kokichi could swear he felt Shuichi's hot breath against him. They both laid still, waiting, when Shuichi finally spoke out,

"Kokichi. Do you want this?"

Against his better judgment, against himself, against any hope of self-preservation and leaving this situation unscarred, Kokichi whispered,

"Yes."

Shuichi's mouth on him felt more than incredible.

He kissed him firmly over his underwear, flattening his tongue and licking a luxurious stripe up from his entrance to the tip of his cock. Once there, he pressed his lips down to wrap over the sensitive head and suckled gingerly at the obscene wetness.

Shuichi couldn't help but notice how soaked Kokichi's underwear had become, even before Shuichi had his mouth on it. The teasing and kissing had Kokichi pliant and dripping pre, in stark contrast to his earlier state.

Shuichi liked the taste of Kokichi's come, and although having his mouth stuffed with Kokichi's used panties satisfied him in a way he wasn't quite ready to confront, he wanted nothing more than to feel Kokichi's bare cock against his lips.

He gripped onto the elastic and pulled down, careful not to tear the fabric. Kokichi graciously lifted his hips in support, and with that, he was entirely nude. This action reminded Shuichi of the fact that he had somehow momentarily forgotten; Shuichi had hands. Two of them even! And the fact that those hands were not being put to better use was absolutely criminal.

As Shuichi went to lower his head once again, he lifted his hands, relishing in Kokichi's delirious moan when his fingers reached their destination.

All at once, Shuichi pulled at Kokichi's hardened nipples and fervently sucked over his dripping cock.

Kokichi screamed.

Despite his lack of experience, Shuichi felt utterly comfortable and confident licking Kokichi's twitching cock. In fact, he found himself moaning into each kiss, letting his tongue explore, and suckling the soft folds to see what would make Kokichi scream the loudest. Shuichi was swept in complete supplication and all too eager to offer his tongue in worship.

Startled by his own arousal, Shuichi- a detective- was suddenly able to put years of nail-biting, gum-chewing, and lip-worrying together. It only took over two decades and the noble sacrifice of hundreds of ruined pencils.

On the topic of ruined pencils, Shuichi found himself desperately rutting into the mattress. Every lick brought him closer to his own edge. He didn't know how much longer he would last, only that he needed Kokichi, to have Kokichi fill his mouth.

Uncomfortably hard, Shuichi longed for more friction but didn't want to take any attention away from Kokichi. Shuichi compromised by lowering one hand, making sure to offer Kokichi hard, slow laps, to compensate. Shuichi quickly adjusted his cock, bunching nearby fabric into a makeshift sleeve, anything to give him that bit of contact he needed. As soon as he felt there was just enough pressure, he rushed his hand back to Kokichi's chest.

Kokichi was enrapt by the varied sensations, delighting in the way his loud pleasure quieted his ever-racing mind. He lifted his open legs, wanting to give himself entirely to Shuichi, to his perfect little mouth.

As Shuichi rubbed into Kokich's gorgeously firm nipples, he realized with a groan that in the process of positioning his cock, he had coated his fingers in precome. The same fingers that were now making Kokichi buckle and shout. He thought about how Kokichi must look from above, his eyes squeezing tight, biting his lip, overwhelmed with pleasure, and his abused redded chest, streaked with Shuichi's come. Shuichi's legs began to quake, hips moving rapidly. He couldn't come yet, he couldn't not without Kokichi, he needed to taste his come, needed Kokichi to finish inside of him.

He focused all of his attention onto Kokichi, wrapping his lips around him and sucking deeply, pulling Kokichi's cock in with strokes of his tongue. Shuichi flipped the tip of his tongue in the perfect spot, and suddenly, Kokichi thrust his hips up and crossed his ankles in the air. Before Shuichi could react, Kokichi pushed his heels down onto the back of Shuichi's head, forcing him onto his cock and completely cutting off his air.

With that, Shuichi couldn't wait anymore. He came, whimpering into Kokichi. He felt himself make a mess out of his comforter, come sputtering out. He tried to keep his mouth moving but struggled to push through the spasms. As if in response to his misbehavior, Kokichi grabbed Shuichi by his hair, gripping tightly with both hands, and Not wanting to leave Kokichi hanging, he stuck out his tongue and allowed Kokichi to rut against him.

Kokichi felt heat building: need on need. He tightened his grip as he pushed Shuichi's head faster. He wanted so much, felt so much. He looked down and as he saw Shuichi, beautiful Shuichi, pressed into him, so focused on his body. Kokichi couldn't help but come.

He released his grip, and his legs shook upwards. He didn't realize his screams could get so loud, that orgasm could be this intense. He rode out the spasms as long as he could until the sensitivity started to hurt, and he pulled up his legs and rolled onto his side, panting.

- - -

Kokichi kept his eyes closed as he attempted to catch his breath. He lay still and felt himself sink into the mattress. His limp body felt relaxed, but the wetness pooled between his legs was getting a bit icky. Moreover, naked atop the blankets, he was starting to feel cold. He stretched his legs back down and was surprised that he didn't bump into any limbs along the way. He smiled and rolled onto his back, ready to commend Shuichi on his excellent dodging skills, when he froze.

Shuichi wasn't there.

Of course he wasn't.

Why would he be, they were finished.

There wasn't anything else he would want to do with him. Kokichi felt himself shiver and wrapped his own arms around his chest. Kokichi then realized with a start that Shuichi likely wasn't finished with him. His mind flashed to few times he had failed to get a guy off to their liking, not fast enough, not hard enough. Kokichi heard his breath before he felt it; he was breathing rapidly, and the shivers had turned into shakes. He felt a familiar stab of pain in his chest.

This was the exact opposite of what he came here for; he was so pathetic. Kokichi bit into his lip and pressed his nails into his skin. Did he think something had changed? That suddenly Shuichi would see him as anything more than an easy fuck? So pathetic, what? He wanted to be held? Cuddled? Tears welled in his eyes. A freak like him should feel grateful someone like Shuich could stand to touch him, and he couldn't even do that right. He couldn't breathe.

This was worse than burning; he was drowning.

He messed it all up he messed it all up, and now Shuichi was gone.

- - -

Shuchi swore he heard sobs as he approached the bedroom door, fresh sheets in hand. But as he turned the knob, the only thing he could see was Kokichi, bright-eyed and looking no different from when he first entered Shuichi's apartment. In fact, Kokichi seemed to vibrate with energy, jumping forward onto his knees as he exclaimed. "Guess you really live up to your title there, huh Succi? Nishsihi ~ sowwy about all that!" Kokichi kept his hips in the air as he slunk his upper body onto the mattress, resting his weight on his elbows. Shuichi twitched as Kokichi's arms stretched dangerously close to the disgusting mess he really did Not want Kokichi noticing. Kokichi deepened his voice and looked up at Kokichi through his long lashes, spreading his legs further apart. "Now what do you want me to do for you? You can fuck me however you wanna, you know?"

Oh god, Kokichi's hand was about to touch Shuichi's-no please, god no. Shuichi quickly interjected, "Oh! Um, well, I actually think I'm good. And, uh," Shuichi motioned away from the sheets, "I think you should get off the bed."

Kokichi lay still for a moment before leaping off the bed and facing Shuichi with an unnervingly wide grin. "Mmmhmm! Okay! Well, like I said earlier, I'm tooottally fine getting fucked on the floor. I can get on my knees right now-"

Shuichi cut him off, not wanting to linger on the fact that his desperate barely-not-a-virgin ass had finished without even needing Kokichi to touch his cock. "That's really, uh, not necessary." God, Shuichi could barely stand to make eye contact with Kokichi. Shuichi was so fucking gross, how could Kokichi even stand it?

Shuichi began changing his sheets and so caught up mentally enumerating all the reasons why he was disgusting, it took him a minute to realize that Kokichi was unusually quiet. Before Shuichi could comment, Kokichi spun away from him and broke the silence.

"Well I've actually got another guy waiting up for me, so if you've had enough of my services, I'd like to get to my next appointment." Kokichi bent over to pick up his discarded clothing, dressing in fast, tight, motions.

Shuichi tried to keep his body from dropping with his heart. He struggled to hear over the intense ringing before remembering his conversation with Kaito. Kokichi couldn't go like this.

"Kokichi, wait, are you okay?" Shuichi barely managed to get the words out, in stark contrast to Kokichi, who quickly fired his response,

"Never better! But I'll be bad if I'm late and I think I've already been punished enough for one night, so if you'll excuse me Saihara."

This wasn't right, this was not how he wanted things to go. Kokichi couldn't be leaving; they hadn't even talked. Shuichi called out, "Kokichi, wait- wait!" Shuichi reached out to Kokichi and brushed against the crescent indents on the sides of his arms. The contact seemed to spur Kokichi forward, who moved even faster out the door and out of the apartment, picking up his coat along the way but not bothering to put it on. He slammed the door behind him and walked into the hallway, half-naked and alone.

#oumasai #saiouma #danganronpa #drv3 #fan fic rec #trans kokichi ouma #archive of our own #mmbau #match my breath #danganronpa v3 #kokichi #shuichi #n-s-f-w #1 8 + O n l y

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