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scubatankfilledwithfarts6. Thaw
Badou’s apartment was notorious for its bi-polar behavior; being either too goddamn hot to breathe in the humidity hanging over the place like a fog, or cold enough to provide its own soundtrack in the form of its occupants’ chattering teeth. But on those nights when the A.C was being particularly pms-y and it was much too cold to do anything decently entertaining Badou and Kokonoe would simultaneously drop onto Badou’s shitty, ratty mattress; side by side, curves to sharp angles, chest to chest, pink mingling with red and they would breathe, slowly melting within each others arms. Or something faggy like that.
7. Waves
She sat in his lap, rocking and groaning against him, arms wound around his neck, heart shaped face pressed into his sweaty hair, and, well fuck; this was quite the predicament, what with the way his veins were on fire a mile a minute, familiar coil in the pit of his gut quickly unfurling like a twine ball once grandma gets to it [minus the dentures and the adult diapers, much sexier] when something’s gotta give and it did and his body clenched, mouth and eye popping open as one and he groaned, “R-Ragna!?”
The purring resulting from the Pretty Kitty in his lap came to an abrupt cease fire and she froze, golden eyes narrowed and usually sassy mouth pulled into a dangerous snarl. “What the fuck did you just-”
“So she does purr….like a fucking bitch ass moe blob.” The Hero of the Death Warrant stood before the open fridge and promptly added a slab of ham to his beautiful sandwich. “I thought the frigid icicle cunt Kokonoe was being killed from the freaky sounds I heard, so I came to laugh and join in. But it was just awkward fucking….so I decided that this sammich would probably be the first step in purging my mind from the sick ass images.” Ragna sighed and brought the sandwich up to his mouth, chomping away without a care in the world. “You look like two constipated turtles stuck on their backs, by the way.”
Badou turned to Kokonoe with a feral grin. “Sic ‘em, girl.”
8. Burglar
Now, Badou had caught many people red handed dick out whore dead before, so a thief in his shitty apartment was more confusing than violating and traumatizing. [Because seriously, who the fuck would want to attempt to rob his place of ’valuables’? If they wanted the PMS-ing microwave, they could fucking take it] But when he crept into the room, torn lamp shade in hand [protection as good as any since he wasn’t quite sure what the fuck he did with his guns recently] and spotted the culprit, he was at a loss for words. “Well, it’s weird to be on the other side of panty drawer snatching for once.” Except not really.
Agito whirled around so fast his own eye patch nearly had the big one and flew off his face, his cheeks had the audacity to betray him and flush tickle me pink and he snarled at his gingery companion.
“Oh yeah? You the phantom thief of pilfering panties then, Old man? Can’t say I’m fucking surprised, what a loser.” It was then that Badou thought it would be lovely if he could just wrestle the top of the lamp shade into the teens’ mouth, gag me wonder, everything would be gravy.
“Heyheyheyheyhey don’t change the fucking subject.” He planted his hands on his boney lips, lips twitching with the grin that was ready to burst and blow his act. “Why are you rooting around in my panty- uh well boxers drawer? I don’t got no thongs in there for ya to borrow brat, my bad. Next time, I promise, we can share an everything, maybe do our nails an talk ‘bout boys if ya like.”
Agito scowled and blushed harder if possible, hands folded behind his back, and mumbled something Badou’s earwax encrusted ears couldn’t quite pick up.
“What was that? You’ll have to get that shit outta your mouth and speak up kid, I didn’t quite catch that.”
The teen mumbled once more and shifted awkwardly, staring at the questionable stain on the cracked floor board beneath his feet, Badou’s oily forehead, the moth ball ridden towel hanging from the ceiling fan, anywhere but the redhead’s single eye.
Badou sighed. “C’mon man I don’t got all goddamn day, I gotta take a dump an it ain’t crowning any less. Hurry the fuck up an maybe I’ll pretend I didn’t walk into you violating my poor undies with your sticky fingers.”
“I wanted one of those…..fucking magazines, okay!? To strictly read the articles for some....shit, okay?!” The teen finally burst out, clutching the pilfered mag to his chest and scowling hotly at Badou, daring him to come at him, bro.
“Ohhhhh….that’s it? Really? Pffft, why the fuck didn’t ya say so earlier? I wouldn’t have laughed at you or nothing.”
Agito gave him a wordless expression of disbelief.
“Alright,” Badou amended with a wave of his hands. “I wouldn’t have laughed too much. Just enough to feel the burn in the morning in my balls.”
9. Frame
“Hey Uncle Badou! Put these on!” As soon as the call had reached his earwax encrusted ears, Badou only had a split second to turn around and wrinkle his nose in confusion before something was shoved onto his face and over the bridge of his for once non booger dripping nose, interrupting any no doubt intelligent inquiries he could have made in the form of a strangled squawk.
His delightful apparently self proclaimed niece furrowed her brow and peered at him in thoughtful wonder, index finger and thumb pressed to her chin for added affect, and she squinted. “I don’t really think my glasses suit you, Uncle. I guess it’s the eyepatch that’s really putting me off. Pretty cool but just not cutting it.” She sighed in defeat and clucked her tongue, clearly judging Badou for not being cool enough to bring out the glasses fetish in everyone.
Badou scowled at her and let the glasses slide onto the tip of his nose, eyeing her wearily. “Well excuuuuuse the fuck outta me princess [he decidedly ignored the heady retort of “But you’re the princess, Uncle!”] but I’m too hard boiled and badass to lower my standards for the nerdy pocket protector awkward boner around Bill Nye the Science Guy look, okay?”
But of course, his precious niece [don’t choke her, man, don’t, the family that stands there and watches him cry but that’s okay because they like the way his gingery tears taste stays together] had already been swept away by the disturbing and baffling ideas her own mind constantly threw at her.
“Have you ever considered a monocle? You could look real ‘fly’ like a G-32. Gee as in ginger, of course. And age is only a number, you can barely even see the wrinkles! That cream of yours is really doing wonders, Claire was right!”
“………HEY, I’M NOT EVEN THAT OLD, GET OUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTT! NOT TO FUCKING MENTION THAT DICKCHEESE WOULDN‘T KNOW FACIAL CREAM FROM ANAL CREAM, SO FUCK OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!!!”
He had to give her props for really digging into their cultured family genes and popping out that one, though, not that he’d admit it until
10. Carpet
One of the things Badou barely registered from his childhood [aside from the end result of all those wacks to the back of his head and the true fate of Marboro the obese hamster after his visit to the ‘Farm’, which fat ass hamsters have no goddamn business being there in the first place] was the feeling of cool carpet beneath him as he laid belly down, a notepad and a handful of stubby crayons at his side. But as he turned his attention from the scribbles and crudely disproportioned dicks he figured was good enough art as those creepy statues with the lacking pubes and eyed his blonde companion sitting cross legged beside him, doodling happily at his side with that wide smile he reckoned maybe this art stuff wasn’t just for hippies. And there was nothing wrong with second childhoods minus the adult diapers and saggy mantits.
“Ne, Badou-nii, what did you draw?” Namine suddenly peeked over at him, her smile brimming with eager curiosity all for her beloved nii-chan.
Badou felt his mouth go dry and it took all he had to not release that tiny mad laugh dying to burst from his grimacing lips.
…Shit.
Badou’s apartment was notorious for its bi-polar behavior; being either too goddamn hot to breathe in the humidity hanging over the place like a fog, or cold enough to provide its own soundtrack in the form of its occupants’ chattering teeth. But on those nights when the A.C was being particularly pms-y and it was much too cold to do anything decently entertaining Badou and Kokonoe would simultaneously drop onto Badou’s shitty, ratty mattress; side by side, curves to sharp angles, chest to chest, pink mingling with red and they would breathe, slowly melting within each others arms. Or something faggy like that.
7. Waves
She sat in his lap, rocking and groaning against him, arms wound around his neck, heart shaped face pressed into his sweaty hair, and, well fuck; this was quite the predicament, what with the way his veins were on fire a mile a minute, familiar coil in the pit of his gut quickly unfurling like a twine ball once grandma gets to it [minus the dentures and the adult diapers, much sexier] when something’s gotta give and it did and his body clenched, mouth and eye popping open as one and he groaned, “R-Ragna!?”
The purring resulting from the Pretty Kitty in his lap came to an abrupt cease fire and she froze, golden eyes narrowed and usually sassy mouth pulled into a dangerous snarl. “What the fuck did you just-”
“So she does purr….like a fucking bitch ass moe blob.” The Hero of the Death Warrant stood before the open fridge and promptly added a slab of ham to his beautiful sandwich. “I thought the frigid icicle cunt Kokonoe was being killed from the freaky sounds I heard, so I came to laugh and join in. But it was just awkward fucking….so I decided that this sammich would probably be the first step in purging my mind from the sick ass images.” Ragna sighed and brought the sandwich up to his mouth, chomping away without a care in the world. “You look like two constipated turtles stuck on their backs, by the way.”
Badou turned to Kokonoe with a feral grin. “Sic ‘em, girl.”
8. Burglar
Now, Badou had caught many people red handed dick out whore dead before, so a thief in his shitty apartment was more confusing than violating and traumatizing. [Because seriously, who the fuck would want to attempt to rob his place of ’valuables’? If they wanted the PMS-ing microwave, they could fucking take it] But when he crept into the room, torn lamp shade in hand [protection as good as any since he wasn’t quite sure what the fuck he did with his guns recently] and spotted the culprit, he was at a loss for words. “Well, it’s weird to be on the other side of panty drawer snatching for once.” Except not really.
Agito whirled around so fast his own eye patch nearly had the big one and flew off his face, his cheeks had the audacity to betray him and flush tickle me pink and he snarled at his gingery companion.
“Oh yeah? You the phantom thief of pilfering panties then, Old man? Can’t say I’m fucking surprised, what a loser.” It was then that Badou thought it would be lovely if he could just wrestle the top of the lamp shade into the teens’ mouth, gag me wonder, everything would be gravy.
“Heyheyheyheyhey don’t change the fucking subject.” He planted his hands on his boney lips, lips twitching with the grin that was ready to burst and blow his act. “Why are you rooting around in my panty- uh well boxers drawer? I don’t got no thongs in there for ya to borrow brat, my bad. Next time, I promise, we can share an everything, maybe do our nails an talk ‘bout boys if ya like.”
Agito scowled and blushed harder if possible, hands folded behind his back, and mumbled something Badou’s earwax encrusted ears couldn’t quite pick up.
“What was that? You’ll have to get that shit outta your mouth and speak up kid, I didn’t quite catch that.”
The teen mumbled once more and shifted awkwardly, staring at the questionable stain on the cracked floor board beneath his feet, Badou’s oily forehead, the moth ball ridden towel hanging from the ceiling fan, anywhere but the redhead’s single eye.
Badou sighed. “C’mon man I don’t got all goddamn day, I gotta take a dump an it ain’t crowning any less. Hurry the fuck up an maybe I’ll pretend I didn’t walk into you violating my poor undies with your sticky fingers.”
“I wanted one of those…..fucking magazines, okay!? To strictly read the articles for some....shit, okay?!” The teen finally burst out, clutching the pilfered mag to his chest and scowling hotly at Badou, daring him to come at him, bro.
“Ohhhhh….that’s it? Really? Pffft, why the fuck didn’t ya say so earlier? I wouldn’t have laughed at you or nothing.”
Agito gave him a wordless expression of disbelief.
“Alright,” Badou amended with a wave of his hands. “I wouldn’t have laughed too much. Just enough to feel the burn in the morning in my balls.”
9. Frame
“Hey Uncle Badou! Put these on!” As soon as the call had reached his earwax encrusted ears, Badou only had a split second to turn around and wrinkle his nose in confusion before something was shoved onto his face and over the bridge of his for once non booger dripping nose, interrupting any no doubt intelligent inquiries he could have made in the form of a strangled squawk.
His delightful apparently self proclaimed niece furrowed her brow and peered at him in thoughtful wonder, index finger and thumb pressed to her chin for added affect, and she squinted. “I don’t really think my glasses suit you, Uncle. I guess it’s the eyepatch that’s really putting me off. Pretty cool but just not cutting it.” She sighed in defeat and clucked her tongue, clearly judging Badou for not being cool enough to bring out the glasses fetish in everyone.
Badou scowled at her and let the glasses slide onto the tip of his nose, eyeing her wearily. “Well excuuuuuse the fuck outta me princess [he decidedly ignored the heady retort of “But you’re the princess, Uncle!”] but I’m too hard boiled and badass to lower my standards for the nerdy pocket protector awkward boner around Bill Nye the Science Guy look, okay?”
But of course, his precious niece [don’t choke her, man, don’t, the family that stands there and watches him cry but that’s okay because they like the way his gingery tears taste stays together] had already been swept away by the disturbing and baffling ideas her own mind constantly threw at her.
“Have you ever considered a monocle? You could look real ‘fly’ like a G-32. Gee as in ginger, of course. And age is only a number, you can barely even see the wrinkles! That cream of yours is really doing wonders, Claire was right!”
“………HEY, I’M NOT EVEN THAT OLD, GET OUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTT! NOT TO FUCKING MENTION THAT DICKCHEESE WOULDN‘T KNOW FACIAL CREAM FROM ANAL CREAM, SO FUCK OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!!!”
He had to give her props for really digging into their cultured family genes and popping out that one, though, not that he’d admit it until
10. Carpet
One of the things Badou barely registered from his childhood [aside from the end result of all those wacks to the back of his head and the true fate of Marboro the obese hamster after his visit to the ‘Farm’, which fat ass hamsters have no goddamn business being there in the first place] was the feeling of cool carpet beneath him as he laid belly down, a notepad and a handful of stubby crayons at his side. But as he turned his attention from the scribbles and crudely disproportioned dicks he figured was good enough art as those creepy statues with the lacking pubes and eyed his blonde companion sitting cross legged beside him, doodling happily at his side with that wide smile he reckoned maybe this art stuff wasn’t just for hippies. And there was nothing wrong with second childhoods minus the adult diapers and saggy mantits.
“Ne, Badou-nii, what did you draw?” Namine suddenly peeked over at him, her smile brimming with eager curiosity all for her beloved nii-chan.
Badou felt his mouth go dry and it took all he had to not release that tiny mad laugh dying to burst from his grimacing lips.
…Shit.
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