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#like this was supposed to be bobby/johnny/dutch
gjdraws · 2 years
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so this started as a mermay with daniel as an otter. but then grew to include royalty!cobras with kreese as master at arms, and also daniel is a spy and a rogue now and general intrigue involving life debts
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kleenexwoman · 5 months
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Kk3 au where Johnny and Daniel end up together
1) Johnny isn't at school after winter break.
Daniel wonders if he's okay. He goes up to Jimmy, who isn't the most approachable Cobra but who is probably the least likely to kill him, and asks if Johnny's still in the hospital or something.
Jimmy looks at him blankly and says he doesn't think Johnny went to the hospital. He called him to see if he wanted to hang out before Christmas, but Johnny said he was busy with stuff and that he'd see him when he was finished with it.
Daniel asks what stuff. Jimmy says he didn't ask.
Bobby asks why the hell Daniel wants to know, then softens when Daniel reminds him that he saw Johnny get strangled by his sensei, too. Bobby tells him that Johnny isn't ready to come back to school, which makes sense.
Daniel says that he hopes Johnny feels better, and that if Bobby talks to him, maybe he can just tell Johnny that Daniel hopes he's okay. That there aren't any hard feelings. He'll even spar with Johnny if he wants.
Dutch sneers and says he's asking to get his ass kicked.
As Daniel walks away, he can hear Tommy saying, "I can't believe you even bothered to talk to that little maggot. You're not gonna tell Johnny all that shit, are you?"
2) It wasn't Johnny that Daniel was afraid of.
Newark was a hard, cold town. There wasn't much work, and there were plenty of brown faces in the town to turn against each other when the car company moved down to Mexico to find cheaper brown hands. Daniel knew the cold flash of fear in the pit of the stomach that comes when you see the glint of a knife or the barrel of a gun.
He'd gotten a switchblade from Cousin Enzo and taken it to school, flashed it at Peter Dabish when the oversized prick tried to fuck with his friend Cici, and nearly gotten kicked out of Aaron Burr High School, home of the Fighting Governors, in favor of the Joseph Pesci Reformatory for Boys.
California seemed safer. Sure, Compton was full of gangs, but Reseda was merely mildly seedy. And West Valley High School promised little more dangerous than social ostracism by blonde pastel-clad children of privilege.
For fuck's sake, the scariest guy in school did karate instead of carrying a piece. And he was skinny. Well, not so much skinny as slender, with long graceful limbs layered with gentle curves of muscle, and a tiny waist, and a chest more curved than barrel. The bruisers back home were all chunk, built like bricks, bulked with pasta and pork, heavy with flesh. Johnny looked like he'd been carved away over time by a stream of water.
Sure, five against one was shit odds, but Daniel knew that a knife doesn't help when you're outnumbered anyway. It's just another thing that can be taken and used to hurt you.
Daniel could have hurt Johnny badly enough to end it, if he'd wanted to. He wasn't an idiot. The kind of places that would sell a kid an illegal blade or even a gun under the table were always easy to spot in Newark, and they didn't look much different in L.A.
He was scared of what he saw when he'd looked into John Kreese's dark blue eyes. Whatever was in there was hungry, hollow, and blank. Something that had cut itself off and refused to be reached. Something that only took and didn't know giving. Something that didn't know limits.
Daniel was scared that the thing driving John Kreese would push Johnny too far. That the posturing, the pushing, the pressing against lockers, that it would explode into something real.
He really didn't want to have to hurt Johnny. Johnny had been hurt enough already.
3) The All Valley was the second night of Hanukkah and Johnny was sleeping in his car by the eighth night.
Sid had a big party at the house the night after. Since Mom was Christian, he liked to call it Christmas-kkah. There was a tree and ornaments, and there was an electric menorah in the window that looked like nine plain, ugly glass tubes that lit up in a plain, ugly sodium yellow. If that was supposed to represent the miracle of having enough oil or whatever the fuck the whole thing was about, that sure didn't look like it meant shit. The potato pancakes weren't even any good, soggy and flavorless because nobody was eating fat.
Sid gave Johnny a blue sweater that didn't fit him, a check for thirty-six hundred dollars, and a sweaty rant about how Johnny needed to stop getting his face beaten on purpose before a big party. Did Johnny want everyone to think Sid beat him, get a reputation for being a domestic abuser and ruin his career? Was that his game?
Johnny gave Sid a head hung low, a bite of the lip, and a tear in the eye. He gave Sid the generous, frankly unwarranted gift of the most sincere-sounding apology he could muster. He promised Sid that it would never happen again.
(He couldn't make himself tear up until he started to think about the prospect of leaving his mother alone with the bald piece of shit. But he'd begged Mom to just take the money she had tucked away and leave, let Sid take everything else in the inevitable divorce. She'd always said she couldn't.)
Mom gave him a bunch of things that were nice, but that he didn't really need and had never asked for. That weren't really his style, but something between the chunky, shiny bright reds he'd liked as a kid and the soft, slender pastels she seemed to like him in. She also gave him a card that had a little trophy on it and said "To A #1 Champion of A Son!" on the inside.
"I'm so proud of you," she said to Johnny, and hugged him. "You always do so well when you put your mind to it. You only ever have to try."
The report card came in. Johnny got more C's than D's this time, but Math had plummeted from a B to a D, and Phys Ed was a B instead of an A because of all the shit he'd given LaRusso that year.
Sid screamed at him that he was never gonna get into a college, that he'd wasted hundreds of thousands of dollars on Johnny, that Johnny was gonna end up as a janitor scrubbing toilets. Then he shoved a brush and bucket into Johnny's hands and followed him around while he demanded that Johnny scrub all twelve toilets in the house by hand without gloves.
Later, retching, scrubbing his chapped hands with moisturizing soap, he looked to his mother for comfort.
She stood in the doorway and said softly that he'd done a good job cleaning the toilets.
Johnny left before sunrise, everything he wanted to take in the trunk of his Avanti, then drove to West Valley High and slept in the parking lot.
He found a new place to crash before the school year started up again. It wasn't hard. He looked good, and that made it pretty easy to make new friends who'd shoot you a few bucks now and again. As long as you were, you know... Properly grateful.
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cobrakatharsis · 1 year
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once again thinking about an au where mr miyagi drives johnny home with daniel after the all valley, rather than leaving him there with kreese after the assault and miyagi’s intervention. I think it was @zappedbyzabka who talked about how kreese’s subsequent anger after miyagi’s intervention when he was already hurting johnny could’ve easily resulted in “a dead johnny” and i think about that all the time.
johnny is deathly silent as he cries in the passenger seat of mr miyagi’s car. he’d tried to speak all of one word - to shrug off mr. miyagi, presumably - and it had come out incoherent, all hoarse and weak and shaky from his brutalised throat, and he hasn’t tried again. he’s got his arms wrapped around himself, all shrunk into himself like he’s trying to disappear despite his dumb flashy jacket, and daniel thinks for the first time as he looks at johnny from the backseat that he looks small. young.
mr miyagi stills the car after a short while of what seems to be aimless driving - giving johnny a chance to calm down, daniel supposes - and asks for directions to johnny’s house.
johnny, inexplicably, begins crying harder.
he crumbles into himself and holds himself tighter, ducking his head.
“i don’t wanna go there,” he finally managed to force out. the sound of his voice - raspy and raw and breathless - makes daniel wince, his knee throbbing in something like sympathy.
“where, then?” mr miyagi asks then, and there’s a silence impeded only by another car rolling past them on the quiet road. daniel thinks johnny will ask to go to one of his friends’ houses, but he doesn’t. daniel thinks about bobby and tommy being struck by kreese, thinks about dutch and jimmy just watching.
“you wanna come to my place?” he offers.
he hadn’t really thought about it, but johnny’s crying and the awful red marks all over his neck are already starting to form into bruising and he doesn’t want to go home for some reason or another, and it’s the easiest offer to make. he’s expecting johnny to immediately refuse, but he starts coughing then, this awful, shallow, breathless sound, and mr miyagi just starts driving.
daniel’s ma’s already in the kitchen when they get in. she looks up and smiles - a big glowing smile full of pride for daniel - but it crashes into horrified concern when she lays eyes on johnny behind him, bruised and tearful and tense.
“oh, honey, what happened to you?”
she rushes over, hands raised to catch him by the cheeks to look him over - it’s familiar to daniel, odd to see it aimed at anyone else - but johnny moves back. flinches, daniel realises with a note of horror - the way johnny’s eyes go all wide and he looks terrified, like he fully believes she’s gonna hurt him, like he knows he can’t stop her.
daniel watches his ma freeze, her gentle hands still raised. he sees something deep in her eyes that he doesn’t recognise, but he knows the subsequent concern and questions when her eyes move to his. he shrugs, feeling kind of sick, and watches his ma swallow.
she recovers quickly. smiles gently, so gently, at johnny and gestures both him and daniel inside, coaxes them to make themselves comfy. she orders pizza. johnny doesn’t eat a single bite.
he can’t swallow, daniel realises, after watching him choke on a timid sip of water a bit later and start coughing again.
daniel’s ma all but begs him to stay over, but johnny shakes his head. manages to whisper that he has to get home, he’ll be in trouble otherwise.
the word trouble makes daniel nauseous. far too much so to enjoy any part of the irony and reversed roles of johnny meekly bidding him goodbye at the front door, head ducked, not making eye contact, before he leaves. he says thank you. daniel chews on his lip.
“it’s alright,” he assures, then tries to smile. “you’re alright, lawrence.”
it doesn’t land. johnny leaves. daniel watches from the steps outside his apartment until headlights approach the gates in the distance and pause and drive off, and - not for the first time - he imagines what johnny lawrence’s home life must be like. the fantasy’s very different now.
he goes back inside to his ma.
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yallwildinrn · 5 months
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Snake in the Grass: Chapter 1
For @ckhalloween23's catch-all prompt: An Empty Grave
This is a horror fic I've been working on since May or June. Given my current pace, it probably won't be out until the latter half of next year, butttt since I have this first chapter done (and I wanted it to be done in time for Halloween of this year), I figured I'd go ahead and post this as a preview and a treat! Well, treat for you guys and me haha.
Content warning for alcohol, bars, and general spookiness.
Pool balls whizz & clack against one another, but the sound is mostly drowned out. The bar, while not packed, is bustling with life, as is typical for a Friday evening; the sounds of yelling, laughter, and glasses clinking fill the already cramped space. It’s the victory cry of men who have been itching for the work week to finally, finally, end.
Dim, warm lights mask dirty floors and mysterious stains of unknown origin that seem to infect any and every upholstered seat. The single TV crammed into the back corner behind the bar top has caught the attention of several men, all shouting and celebrating – or complaining – at every pitch of the game with gnashing teeth. The bartender scrambles to sling out drink after drink of who-knows-what for the night’s customers.
Johnny himself is seated at a round, wooden table shoved near the back of the room. It’s almost uncomfortably close to the billiards tables, and each shrill hit against the pool balls becomes harder to ignore as the night wears on. He’s got some good distraction, though.
He lounges in his chair with a Coors in hand, surrounded by his friends. Bobby sits at his right, sipping his bourbon, while counterclockwise from there are Jimmy, Dutch, and Tommy. It’s tight, mostly because they had to steal a seat for Jimmy, but Johnny doesn’t mind. Not a damn bit.
He takes a long, slow sip from his drink. He still can’t believe they graduated from West Valley six whole years ago, and yet here they are, still thick as thieves. It’s not the same as it was back in high school (images of late-night, high-speed rides on their Hondas and getting plastered on the beach come to mind), but given how damn busy they all are, it’s an impressive amount of effort to keep traditions & meet-ups alive – like these monthly get-togethers at the bar, for example.
Johnny half-listens to a light-hearted argument between Tommy & Jimmy about baseball players he doesn’t give a shit about. Dutch, caught in the middle, has decided to antagonize the two of them by playing devil’s advocate for both sides. Things are getting heated, but it’s nothing Johnny finds worth worrying about. A nudge to Johnny’s arm snatches his attention away, and he turns to see Bobby with an expectant gaze and a soft, tipsy smile on his lips. Johnny reciprocates the smile without even thinking; he can thank the fact that he’s at least a few drinks in for that.
Bobby’s eyes sparkle as he leans towards Johnny. His cheeks are flushed, and his breath is rich and yeasty, laced with just a hint of sweetness. He smirks at Johnny and says, “I’ve been meaning to ask. How’s your back doing, old man?”
Anddd there it is. Johnny rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he answers, “Well, I’m no longer bed-ridden, so there’s that. I think I’ll be good to go back in a week or two once Dr. Gates gives me the green-light. I’m not supposed to see her for another two weeks, but if I feel better before then, I’m gonna see if she can squeeze me in, see if I can get back to work sooner.”
Bobby raises his brows in a look of mock shock, but it’s accompanied by a wry smile. “Did I just hear Johnny Lawrence say he’s trying to get back to work sooner? Thought you had worker’s comp to fall back on?”
“I do,” Johnny explains, snatching the neck of his Coors. The glass is smothered with wet drops of condensation that leave watery rings on the tabletop. “Just turns out that worker’s comp isn’t nearly as good as a roofing job. Pays the bills, but man.”
Johnny shakes his head and takes a swig of his beer. The icy cold liquid feels like a blessing, and he sighs as the bottle leaves his lips.
Bobby shrugs a little awkwardly. He tries to reassure Johnny as best he can by reminding him, “Hey, at least you’re getting comp this time.”
Johnny frowns harshly and shuts his eyes for a moment like he’s trying to will away a headache. He sets his beer down with a soft thunk, and the moisture clinging to the glass is already dripping back onto the table. He glares at a nearby wall and mutters, “Don’t remind me.”
“I’m just saying,” Bobby starts with a warm smile, swishing the alcohol in his glass with one hand. “Not working under the table has its perks.”
Another round of loud cheers fills the room. Sounds like someone finally hit the damn ball. “Yeah, but the government also takes half my damn paycheck. Jimmy still hasn’t helped me figure out how to deduct all my taxes yet,” Johnny says, loudly pulling Jimmy into the conversation.
Jimmy turns away from his own conversation with Tommy & Dutch. He leans onto an elbow and smiles at Johnny, but it’s certainly not genuine; if anything, there’s a bite to it. He answers, “Just because I’m an accountant doesn’t mean I can magically fix your taxes, Johnny. Become a business, then we can talk.”
Johnny flips him off, earning a round of chuckles around the table as Jimmy rolls his eyes and relaxes back into his seat. Dutch points at Jimmy with his beer bottle and asks the accountant, “Speaking of, have you finally been let out of your cage? First time we’ve seen you in, what? Months?”
Jimmy sighs, and Johnny realizes that the polo Jimmy’s wearing is probably the most casual thing he’s worn out and about in a while. “Tax season is finally over. Thank god for that,” Jimmy trails off, and he takes a long swig from his glass.
Tommy eyes his friends and pipes up, “Too late for another round of shots?”
Another round sounds fucking amazing. Johnny instead answers, “I’d love to, but my wallet says no.”
Bobby chimes in, “My liver also says no. That first round was enough for me.”
Dutch’s face crinkles into disappointment as he boos Bobby from across the table. His chair tips back an almost dangerous amount while he does. He shakes his head and laments, “Ya think you know a guy, but then he goes to priest school and becomes a damn prude.”
Bobby glares at him as his grip tightens on his glass. “It’s called seminary, and I’m becoming a pastor, not a priest.”
Tommy snickers & nudges Dutch, giving him a mischievous look. He points out, “Didn’t say he wasn’t a prude.”
Johnny snorts, earning himself a Bobby-patented glare, which then sends him into a laughing fit. Sometimes it can genuinely be scary to be on the receiving end of that gaze, but most of the time (especially after all these years,) it’s become damn hilarious. There’s another vicious clack of the pool balls; the start of a new game.
“I hate all of you,” Bobby huffs. He crosses his arms and leans back into his chair, dragging his gaze across the figures of his (almost) drunk friends, who are still much more sober than half of the room. “Why do I even hang out with you assholes? What did I do to deserve this?”
Jimmy sips on his glass and looks at Bobby. His lips curl into a wry smile. “Be a prude?”
Johnny thinks he can see a vein bulge in Bobby’s forehead, and he has to stifle another snort. Bobby’s lips pull into a tight, frustrated line across his face. He finishes the last of his bourbon with a small gulp and slaps his palm onto the table so he can push himself out of his chair. “I fucking hate you. All of you. I’m getting another drink.”
He pushes his chair back in with his foot and starts to weave through the maze of people & tables, and Tommy smiles like a Cheshire cat and calls out, “Can you-?”
“No,” Bobby yells back as he crosses the bustling room. Tommy cackles in his seat, and Dutch follows suit, clapping a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and howling beside him. Johnny simply shakes his head and leans onto the table, resting on his forearms.
The wood sticks to his skin. He can only imagine how much dust is trapped under layers of sticky god-knows-what. Probably more than he realizes. It’s kind of gross to think about, but it doesn’t really faze him, especially when everything about this bar fits that bill. Not much about this place is great: the bartender’s a dick, the bowls of pretzels are stale as shit and few & far between, it’s impossible to find a seat without a weird stain on it, and there’s never more than two beers on tap.
That doesn’t mean it’s all bad, though. Johnny never has to worry about them running out of Coors. It’s a pretty good distance between all their places. The prices aren’t half bad, and hell, it doesn’t even come close to gracing their top ten list of “Shittiest Bars This Side of California!” So yeah, really not all bad, at least if you ask him.
Tommy’s hyena-like cackle grabs Johnny’s attention and pulls him back into whatever conversations he’s missed. “No, no,” Tommy starts, smiling wide. “I’m just- can you believe any of us actually graduated?”
Jimmy levies Tommy with a self-satisfied smile. “No, I actually can’t believe any of you guys graduated,” he teases. Tommy rolls his eyes.
Dutch scowls. “Yes, yes, we know. You made an A once and got into a big boy college, keep it in your pants,” He replies gruffly, finishing his statement with a swig.
“That’s not what I meant,” Tommy elaborates dryly while gesturing with his drink. “You’re not wrong, but think about it. Our senior year was such a shitshow.”
Dutch smirks and looks Johnny’s way. “I blame Romeo over here. Had no idea a breakup would lead to all that bullshit with LaRusso.”
Johnny stifles at the comment, and his cheeks flush – now red from more than just the alcohol – as he glares at Dutch. He’s about to bark out a comeback, but Bobby cuts him off when he comes sauntering back, freshly filled glass in hand, and retorts, “Oh please, we’re all to blame. We escalated it when we should’ve just left things alone.”
Bobby slides into his chair a little ungracefully, wood scraping against the floor, while Dutch shifts uncomfortably in his seat. He nods his head down a little sheepishly because… yeah. Bobby’s right, as much Johnny hates to admit it. Back at West Valley, they were all chomping at the bit to put the twerp in his place, but none of that needed to happen or even should have happened. They saw red, and LaRusso got caught in the crossfire. It was like they didn’t even see him. Just a conveniently placed punching bag.
The table’s air stills; the rest of the bar continues to thrum with activity while the atmosphere of their little corner slowly ices over. Johnny purses his lips and sips at his beer. Guilt gnaws his ribcage. Even after all these years, after the apologies and many, many steps to make things right, he’s still stuck with bitter memories that choke him up. He opts to study the many dings & scratches on the table rather than meet any of his friends’ eyes.
Jimmy’s the first to break the tense silence. “You know, if we have anyone to blame, it’s Kreese,” he spits out. It hits Johnny like a jab to the chest. He’s taken aback as Jimmy says this, but the man continues, “He put so much bullshit in our heads! All that punch first, think second nonsense. Like, come on-”
“Wait, wait,” Johnny interrupts while waving his hand to stop Jimmy in his tracks. How can he just say that? “Look, he was a total douchebag – I should fucking know – but we’re the ones who took what he said too far. We were still the ones who fucked with LaRusso. He didn’t tell us to do any of that shit.”
Tommy shifts beside him and stumbles over his words. “Yeah, like- but- Look, okay, you’re right, it’s totally on us for taking shit way too far, but Johnny,” Tommy says, and he turns to Johnny with pleading eyes. “He literally taught us to have no mercy. Literally. That’s not an exaggeration.”
Johnny frowns. “Yeah, but we took it out of context. He obviously meant to not take no for an answer, to- to keep pushing on despite the circumstances,” he explains. Are they seriously saying this shit? Even after all these years? After everything Kreese did for them? For fuck’s sake…
Dutch is next to speak. He throws Johnny an odd look as he adds, “Did we go to the same Cobra Kai? Because the one I went to taught us to do fucking everything to the extreme. Including the no mercy shit. Hell, he even had us do karate to the extreme. All those extra goddamn practices…”
“Yeah, and they were good for us. We needed some discipline!” Johnny snaps back defensively. His blood is starting to boil with every bullshit argument that his friends make.
He starts to bounce his leg. The sounds of laughter pouring out from a nearby table makes him want to snarl. He doesn’t get it, how can his friends just- just pass the blame onto Kreese? The guy at least tried to help them and make them into better people (before his sensei lost his mind, that is.)
Johnny turns to Bobby, who’s worrying his lip and squirming like he’s sitting on an anthill. “Come on,” Johnny says. “Back me up here.”
Bobby looks away from Johnny, jaw tense, but he turns back. He lets out a breath, look Johnny square on with a worrying level of sincerity, and says, “Johnny. Kreese worked us so hard once that you forget it was Ali’s birthday. She broke up with you over that.”
Johnny’s skin buzzes. He’s all too aware of the overpowering noise of the room. Hell, he feels like he can feel the next table over breathing on him. His stomach rolls. “That is not what happened,” Johnny insists with a hard stare. “Practice that day was not that bad. I remember it. It was fine.”
Tommy scoffs, “Then why were you so quick to go out drinking with us?”
Johnny’s more tense than a stretched-out rubber band, and he feels like he’s going to snap like one, too. He scowls and answers, “I forgot because…”
Johnny blinks and turns his gaze down. Sweat collects at the back of his neck while his chest tightens.
“No, I-I forgot because…”
His mouth is a cotton ball. He’s reaching into his mind, searching for the memory, but he just… it’s not right. It’s there, but somehow, it also isn’t. He remembers being brought in for an extra practice with his cobras, Twig being brought in to watch & help, the end of practice, getting ready to leave, and then…
His temples throb as tries harder to remember, but he can’t. There’s a gap, a void where something should be. It’s not like he’s just forgotten the details, god no. He’s actively reaching into his mind, searching and grasping for what should be there, sandwiched between the sparring and the night at the bar, but he just… He can’t. He can’t get there. Every time he thinks he’s brushing against what might be the memory in question, a pulsing throb shakes his skull, and it rattles his train of thought loose.
His eyes dart between his friends. His heart pounds furiously against his vice of a ribcage, and he wipes his sweaty palms against the thighs of his pants. Their faces are a varied array of distress and confusion. Why do they look like that? Are they trying – and failing – to remember, just like him? Shit, why can’t he remember?
A chill threatens to run down his spine. Could he ever remember?
When he was fresh off the breakup with Ali, he would spend hours torturing himself with all the ways he screwed things up; it was his way of trying to nail down exactly what he did wrong. Except… he always left that practice turned night-on-the-town alone. He never touched it, to his knowledge. Is- Is this why? Every time he tried to play the events over in his mind, would he get to this downright anomaly of a gap in his memory, and did it make him feel- well, make him feel like he does now? Sick and shaken?
Is that why he never, never thinks about the inciting incident that led Ali to yell at him and tell him things were done? Did the avoidance become muscle memory at some point so he would never try to recall that night & the memories associated with it?
He knows the answer. He doesn’t like it.
It doesn’t even feel natural. It’s not like he just forgot; no, it’s more like something was ripped out unceremoniously or maybe strangled and hidden in an unreachable corner of his mind. Does it matter what type of wrong it is? He wipes the sweat from his brow; the heat from the crowd of the bar tonight has finally caught up to him, it seems.
His mind circles back. Why can’t he remember? Why is there a gap? How long has it been there? Has- has it always been there? And not just any gap. No, a gap that, when he tries to recall upon what should be there, snaps up & bites him like a cornered animal. His head is throbbing. He fumbles for his beer and takes a long drink.
He looks again to his friends. He can only imagine the expression on his own face given theirs. He takes a chance and says, “Please tell me I-I’m not the only one who…”
Bobby slowly shakes his head, eyebrows knit, but he doesn’t meet Johnny’s gaze. Jimmy and Dutch don’t move; they simply squirm and keep their eyes down. Tommy’s chest is heaving as he sits up straight and looks ahead with a mix of fear and uncertainty. Johnny knows they must be in the same boat as him. They have to be.
Tommy answers with a shaky voice, “Who what?” Johnny almost drops his mouth wide open. Tommy’s asking that even though the man isn’t meeting anyone’s eyes and looks like he wants to run out of the room?
“Who what? What do you mean who what?” Johnny asks incredulously. “Who- who can’t fucking remember what happened that night!”
Tommy’s smiling, but it’s strained. He answers, voice as tight as his lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Johnny grips his Coors so hard he thinks it’s going to shatter in his hands. “What do you mean what I’m-? You know exactly what I mean. Look at us! Look at yourself! Something’s not right.”
“Johnny,” Bobby pleads. At some point he rested his forehead in his hands, elbows on the table. “You’re- you’re not wrong, but Christ-”
Johnny turns to face Bobby with an eager gaze. He cuts him off, saying, “You can’t remember, either. It’s not just me. Something’s wrong.”
Bobby sighs through his nose. He’s getting frustrated; it’s a tell Johnny knows well. “No, Johnny,” Bobby says shortly. “I can’t remember. But I don’t want to. God, I just… I think I can speak for all of us when I say let’s just drop it. Please. I don’t want to think about-”
Bobby’s practically pleading, but Johnny doesn’t care. What’s more fucking important: a little bit of discomfort or the fact none of them remember the same exact damn thing?
Johnny cuts him off again and snarls, “About the fact there’s a fucking gap in our memories? The same gap for all of us, I’m willing to bet? One we’ve probably had since that night?”
Bobby shuts his eyes, and Johnny’s not sure if the man is going to cry or punch him, but given their shared history at Cobra Kai, it’s probably the latter. Dutch speaks up next, snapping, “Johnny! Just drop it! Yes, our memories are fucked, big whoop. I don’t care! I don’t want to think about it either! I don’t know about you, but I don’t like trying to remember and feeling my skin try to crawl off my body.”
Johnny drums his fingers against his bottle. He can’t fight the scowl on his lips. “Seriously? You’re just going to ignore this? Just like that?”
Dutch laughs bitterly. “Seems like we’ve been doing that for years, man,” he says with a shake of the head, but he pauses and looks Johnny straight on. “You know what? Hold on, let me ask you something. Let’s say we do talk about this shit. Have a little pow-wow and Agatha Christie our way through this bullshit. What the hell would we even do? Seriously, how in the fuck would you even recommend we- we try to fix this? Please, share with the class!”
Johnny opens his mouth to answer but shuts it tight in that same instant. His cheeks flush again. He genuinely has no idea where to start, actually. He does know that if they work together, they might have a shot, but Dutch writing him off with that cruel smile makes Johnny want to scream.
“Exactly,” Dutch says like the self-assured bastard he is, gesturing at Johnny with his drink in hand. “We can’t do shit, and since we’ve gone this long without thinking about it, why stop now? Sounds like none of us want to think about it, for christ’s sake.”
Johnny’s throat is tight. He can hardly believe what Dutch is saying. What Tommy and Bobby have been fucking saying. His blood pulses under his skin, and he turns to Jimmy, almost begging, “Jimmy. Come on, back me up. We can’t just pretend this never happened.”
Jimmy doesn’t look him in the eye, and it’s enough to make Johnny’s heart sink. The brunette swallows, lips turned downward ever so slightly, and he hesitantly answers, “Look, I-I’m sorry Johnny. I can’t. Why don’t we just… let sleeping dogs lie? All remembering does is hurt, and we can’t do anything about it, so why can’t we just…”
Johnny screws his eyes shut tight and flexes a hand in and out of a fist a few times. He brings his Coors to his lips, takes a healthy gulp, and slams the bottle back onto the table with enough force to make his friends jump a little. He glares at them all. He can hardly believe all the bullshit he’s heard tonight.
“Why can’t I just what? Drop it? Why aren’t you pussies willing to do anything about this?! It’s not right! Something is fucking wrong, and you just want to act like nothing happened!” Johnny says. His voice is starting to raise, and he’s getting the attention of a few nearby patrons, but quite frankly, he doesn’t give a shit. Fuck ‘em. “What is wrong with you guys? Who gives a fuck if it hurts to think about it! Something is wrong, and it sure as hell wasn’t just forgotten. It’s gone. Or- or it’s there and we just can’t reach it but- Who cares! It’s still weird as shit, and you’re all just pretending like nothing fucking happened like a bunch of pussies!”
Bobby attempts to soothe him by saying, “Johnny, please, I don’t think this is as bad as you’re saying.”
Johnny feels his muscles tense, and he swears to god, he might break a tooth from how hard his jaw is clenched. He gets tunnel vision for a moment, only able to focus on the traitorous words that just came out of Bobby’s mouth, and when his vision clears, everything is suddenly too much again – screeching pool balls, wails & shouts from the crowd around them, the way his body is vibrating under his skin. He has to fight against the urge to throw & shatter his beer bottle on the ground (likely only because he’s not done quite with it yet).
He can’t believe that Bobby of all people would say that to him. Talk down to him like that. That simple sentence rubs him raw like coarse sandpaper dragged his skin. It conjures up painful memories of his mom brushing aside his pleas for help and, on occasion, Kreese asking him through a sneer if he’s a loser. And worst of all, Bobby knows this, better than anyone else. He’s been the one to listen to Johnny rant and rage about being brushed off and ignored. He knows how that phrase sets Johnny’s blood alight.
Johnny chugs the rest of his beer in one fell swoop and steps out of his chair so fast & hard it tumbles. He doesn’t even bother picking it up. He bites out, “Fuck this. I’m going home. I don’t give a fuck what you do. Pretend for all I care! Don’t come crying to me when this shit blows up in all of our faces.”
Johnny ignores Bobby’s protests as he begins to chase after the taller man, trying to get Johnny to talk to him or whatever. Johnny can’t talk to him, won’t. He can’t even look at him right now. He grits his teeth as he weaves between people, and the longer Bobby follows, the more certain Johnny becomes that he really might start swinging.
Johnny has to shoulder his way into an open spot and wait for the bartender to slide by, but flashing some cash is all it takes to grab his attention. He feels like his skin is going to vibrate right off his body, and he snaps at some asshole sitting beside him who tells him to watch it.
Bobby catches up to Johnny as he’s trying to pay the bartender, worthless platitudes tumbling out of his mouth, and Johnny hisses through clenched teeth, “If you don’t lay off, I’m gonna knock your teeth out, I swear to god.”
It works as intended. Bobby steps back, startled and wide-eyed. Johnny knows he looks a little wild right now, but he just does not care. He feels like he’s one wrong word or move away from snapping, from saying & doing shit he’s going to regret. He just wants to get out of this fucking bar and away from his shithead friends.
Johnny breathes a small sigh of relief when Bobby accepts defeat and slinks back to the table stuffed in the back of the room. He always was the smartest of the five of them. He knew when it was time to leave things be before it blew up in their faces. Johnny thinks of Daniel, and he feels a little sick, but it’s replaced with another wave of hot, tepid anger again, the same kind that haunted him all through high school.
With his tab paid, Johnny shoves his way out of the bar, other patrons throwing protests, swears, & a few obscene gestures at him, but Johnny makes himself ignore it and pushes on. If he starts to pay attention and care right now, even a little, he’s probably gonna get the cops called on his ass, and he just- he can’t deal with that on top of everything else tonight.
He opens the bar door with a hard shove, and the chill night air washes over him. While the streets are neither silent nor empty, it’s still much better than the bar, and he feels his chest loosen enough that he can breathe again. He stomps over to his Avanti, and halfway through sticking his key into the door’s lock, he decides that he doesn’t have enough beer at home to deal with this night.
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sensei-venus · 1 year
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Could you write headcanons of the OG cobras being possessive over Alpha!Reader who recently joined their dojo?(like the alpha is super kind and gentle)
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(Female reader because it wasn't made clear in the ask) (unedited)
•Having a gentle alpha in the dojo is something completely new to them as a group. And the fact that it's a girl, who is a alpha and is still super nice and sweet despite being a alpha? Ooh-
•Shes hard working and willing to spear with them any time they are at the dojo, it's is a plus in their book. Being able to fight a girl on the same field is different but it teaches them a lot, more then Kreese has taught them when it comes to fighting the opposite sex. Their training sessions are interesting to say the least.
•They become protective over her once they realize how nice she actually is outside of the dojo. Originally they thought she was just trying to be a bit more submissive because she was in new territory at the dojo. Trying to suck up a little to the head alphas at the dojo. But when they see her being nice to others around school, doing things for teachers. She even helps out some of the omega students, workout trying to score anything for it.
•They notice she gets taken advantage of a lot when she's not at the dojo. Her sweet nature makes her a target for everyone. If it wasn't for her overpowering scent and her over all physical skills in karate, she would basically be a omega. But she did have a hard head when it came to a lot of stuff, like overlooking rude comments or bad sarcasm. She let people run over her and she still helped them.
•The cobras don’t like it one bit. After they notice how badly she is being taken advantage of, they get protective of her out in public. Mostly at school when they know they can follow close by and make sure no one is trying to take advantage of her kind nature.
•Dutch doesn’t like being run over in general. He doesn’t let anyone make him look like a fool or treat him like trash. So when he takes a liking to Reader and he sees how people are making her into a joke, he’s all over it. He’s ready to full on fist fight if someone doesn’t take the hint to keep moving and not mess with her. He’s aggressive and not afraid to get in their face over it either.
•Bobby is a pretty gentle alpha too, but he knows how to assert his dominance when he wants to. He’s not afraid to say he doesn’t want to do something for someone and he doesn’t let people walk all over him. When he sees people doing that to Reader, he helps get them out of situations they don’t need to be in. He helps move them out of harms way or just shows up like “Oh she can’t do that today, we have practice.” Or “Didn’t you ask me to help you with our math homework? Come on.” And leads her away.
•Tommy doesn’t like pests, and that’s how he sees most of the kids who use Reader. He sees it as a challenge to get her away from others. Some times he will musk up hallways just to get other alphas to step off or intimidate omegas. He likes a good challenge.
•Jimmy is a big follower, he will basically go after anyone that is seen as a threat by his other pack members. If someone mentions that they don’t like the “look” of someone that is poking around Reader, he’s off after them. He’s pretty good at spying on people too. No one ever notices him lurking around corners so he’s good at listing in on conversations he’s not supposed to be in. Also seeing things he’s not supposed to. He’s great for getting info on people and bring it back to the other boys.
•Johnny is the pack alpha and what he says goes. When Johnny takes notice of things he doesn't like going on concerning Readers well being, its a issue that needs to be handled, by him. Johnny will openly follow her around until she tells him to kick rocks. Johnny likes kind people and when he meets someone who actually cares about him and is nice to him, their basically always in his eyesight. Reader is quickly taken under his wing. No one is going to mess with her when he's around and everyone at school and even the dojo knows it.
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dxrkvibes23 · 1 year
Text
Random Og Cobras headcanons that I have that I’ve come up with while talking to other people, writing, or role playing (:
if you have any others pleaseeee give them to me. i love hearing them
Johnny:
-definitely the smoothest with the girls. Not always something that he particularly likes though
-when his mom and step dad are fighting, he’ll drive somewhere peaceful and lay on top of his firebird and just enjoy the silence. Also keeps beer in his car for this reason, but if anyone asks he’ll tell them its for spur of the moment parties
Dutch:
-actually has huge claustrophobia. Will not let anyone know about it though
-showed signs of being ‘messed up’ when he was younger. He was the type of kid that would like to kill smaller animals (Reptiles, Fish, Squirrels, etc) in different ways to see what would happen with each way he killed them.
-has a huge soft side. Especially with his partners. Definitely the little spoon when it comes to cuddling.
Bobby:
-likes old shows and movies. Anything from the 20’s to the 60’s
-closeted nerd. Blames the fact that he knows random Star Wars, Marvel, and dc facts on his parents or other friends (outside of the cobras)
-had a younger sister who died, and he blamed himself for the death of her. He was supposed to be babysitting her, but she had just gotten surgery, and was on painkillers, and he left the medication on the table where she could get it, so he could get back to what he was doing, and she took the rest of the bottle so she could ‘get better faster’ without telling bobby about it, and he hadn’t been paying attention. To this day he still blames himself and is almost sure his parents have never forgiven him either. They were 8 years apart in age. She was 6 when she died.
Tommy:
-undiagnosed adhd. He doens’t mean to say the things he does, or do half the things he does, but sometimes his brain just feels like it’s going a mile a minute and he doesn’t know how to stop it
Jimmy:
-The caretaker of the group.
-Struggles with a huge anxiety problem (although he always swears he’s fine and its definitely not because of his home life or because of cobra kai. Those don’t make it worse at all)
-youngest of the group
Group:
-have been friends basically their whole lives
-Johnny and Bobby met when they were around 5 or 6 years old
-Dutch became friends with Johnny in early elementary school and despite Bobby not agreeing with everything that Dutch did, the boy became part of their friend group
-Tommy joined around late elementary school. Johnny wasn’t a huge fan of him at first, since Tommys personality threatened Johnnys ‘leadership’ position in the group, but they actually became really close later on
-Jimmy is someones cousin which is why he’s apart of the group. Most likely Johnnys or Bobbys.
-They basically all have bad parents in one way or another, which is why they confide in each other
-all questioned their sexuality at one point (don’t even get me started on my cobra ships)
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zappedbyzabka · 10 months
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Saw your post on Older Paster Bobby x Younger Johnny and it gave me this idea of Bobby introducing Johnny to his closest friends Dutch, Jimmy, and Tommy and as soon as the three of them sees Johnny for the first time there thought is : “yea I’m going fuck this blonde twink”
👀👀👀👀
They can tell as plain as day that he has at the very least a crush on Bobby, and they suspect it isn’t unrequited.
Though it doesn’t look like they’ve done much together yet, Johnny still has raging virgin written all over him, and they think Bobby is insane for not doing something about that already. They can tell Johnny is aching for it, and not just from Bobby. He’s almost demure when speaking to them, looking perky and pretty, all "yes, sir." And "no, sir" when they ask questions, listening earnestly when any of them tell a story, and laughing at all their unfunny jokes.
Dutch especially likes the hint of an attitude that peeks through from time to time. He wants to make him even worse—to bring him to the dark side, so to speak. He can get Johnny past the whole staying pure till marriage thing. Though, the way Johnny looked at him when he talked about his time in jail tells Dutch that maybe that won’t be so hard. He would like nothing more than to pop Johnny's cherry, and he knows at least Tommy feels the same way because he’s being well-behaved, the way he used to act when girls were around way back when, small smiles much different from his usual bright grin and only quick glances at Johnny's cute little tits, but he’s becoming much less behaved the more he drinks. Jimmy is polite, as always, but makes an effort to talk to Johnny—asking questions and charming Johnny with his shy demeanor, not a single thing giving away his thoughts about breeding the boy over the very table they're sitting at, reaming that hole that he’s sure is just as sweet and tempting as everything else about him.
Bobby holdsJohnny’s thigh under the table, hand gripping tight and possessive. He knows his friends, and he knows what they want to do. Not that he’s completely opposed to the thought.
He feels extremely annoyed when Johnny sits up to use the bathroom and insists that Bobby stay and "talk to his friends; he doesn’t need a babysitter." Dutch following after him shortly after, and the other guys (Tommy) talking his ear off, preventing him from going after them.
And boy, does Dutch take advantage.
Johnny is already washing his hands when Dutch enters the bathroom, meeting Dutch’s eyes in the mirror when he walks closer, a coy smile on his face. "Hi."
Dutch smirks, stepping up to Johnny’s side and putting a hand on the counter.
"Hey, pretty boy."
Johnny raises a brow. "You need something or?…."
Dutch lets his eyes wander to Johnny’s behind, his hand itching to grab. "You could say that. Has he fucked you yet?"
Johnny’s eyes widen, and his cheeks turn pink. "Excuse me?"
Dutch presses himself up against Johnny’s back, his other hand going to Johnny’s hip. "You heard me. Has he even made you cum yet?"
"I…I can’t talk about that."
Oh. The answer is yes.
"Okay, go Bobby. Didn’t know he had it in him."
Johnny's hands clench into fists. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
There’s that attitude.
"Don’t worry, doll. Nothing against Bobby—that’s my guy—I just know he doesn’t tend to make the first move with that kinda stuff; he likes to make us work for it. And if I’m being honest...." He looks Johnny over in the mirror, "I liked the idea of being the first to ruin you."
Johnny spins around, grabbing Dutch’s shoulders roughly and kneeing him in the crotch. "Don’t fucking touch me." He snaps, leaving with an angry huff.
Okay, he deserved that—maybe even worse, Dutch thinks as he lays on the floor with his hands clutching at crotch.
He walks back out a few minutes later, determined not to have his tail between his legs despite the rejection—even if Bobby raises his brows at him like he’s saying, "You’re a dipshit."
Johnny is practically curled against Bobby, unable to look in Dutch’s direction, but he is looking at Jimmy—seeming very interested in everything he’s saying, and from Dutch’s perspective, he seems more focused on Jimmy’s arms and hands; Dutch can’t blame him.
"So, uh…" Jimmy makes eye contact with Dutch, his brows pinching at the look he’s given. "I, uh…"
Jimmy then makes eye contact with Johnny and gulp. "I have to go."
Tommy pouts, reeking of liquor. "But you said you’d do shots with me," he drawls out.
"You know he has a low social battery, Tommy; just let him leave." Bobby buts in firmly, and Dutch smiles at the way Johnny squirms.
"I’ll walk you to your car!" Tommy slurs, standing up and immediately tipping to the side, falling against Jimmy.
"Woah. "I think I should take you home too, bud."
Tommy says something incoherent in protest, but lets Jimmy pull him towards the door. "Bye, guys! Bye, Johnny!" He yells cheerily, and Jimmy keeps his head down so as not to see the annoyed faces of everyone in the bar. He’ll have a lot to think about when he gets home.
Dutch clears his throat. "So, where are you guys headed after this?"
Johnny looks at Bobby, and Bobby blinks at Dutch. "Probably my house?"
Johnny leans in, whispering something in Bobby’s ear, before pulling away with a small smile when Bobby whispers something back. "We’re gonna go too. Need a ride home?"
Dutch bites the inside of his cheek. "I’d like a ride alright," he murmurs, picturing a lithe blonde in his lap. "No, I’m fine, man. I have my motorcycle."
Bobby’s nostrils flare a little. "I don’t like when you ride that thing after drinking, what if—"
Dutch puts a hand up. "I only had, like, two drinks. I’m not a lightweight."
"But—"
"Just go, Bobby. I want to look for a hook up anyways."
Bobby narrows his eyes, but there’s worry in them. "Hook up as in?…"
Dutch grits his teeth. "Hook up, as in, I’m gonna find someone and fuck their brains out."
He takes great satisfaction in the way Johnny freezes up.
"Real nice language, Dutch." Bobby says blankly. "Just…be safe, okay? I don’t want you back in jail, or worse. We all care about you."
Dutch says nothing, just nods, then rests his chin on his hand and looks around the bar for a decent lay, ignoring the sound of Bobby walking out.
A hand touches his shoulder, and Dutch flinches a little.
It’s Johnny with something clenched in his fist. "I don’t want any issues with Pastor Brown’s friends, okay? Even if they’re a creep like you. So, here—" He drops the crumpled tissue on Dutch’s lap. "Bye."
Johnny doesn’t hesitate to walk away, giving Dutch zero chance to speak.
He cautiously picks the napkin up with his pointer and thumb, wondering if he pissed the boy off enough to drop a dirty tissue in his lap, but he drops the caution the second he straightens it out a little and sees numbers scribbled in clumsy ink.
Oh. Isn’t that a nice little gift?
He takes a sip of his beer, pulling his phone out of his pocket and typing in the digits.
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punkiexist · 1 year
Text
so i watched housekeeper (1992) and was thinking about a lawrusso au; and like this is what i thought
modern + fake dating!au. they're in college; i thought johnny could be in architecture class and daniel in business;
daniel and johnny know each other and are always fighting about something but no karate involved (bc i have no idea how to write fight scenes sorry;
johnny was dating ali, they were highschool sweethearts and were the most annoying couple y'know;
but she broke up with him because, well, he’s johnny and there’s going to be a reason i just don’t know what it could be;
a few months later she’s dating again and johnny after crying like a baby (but no one can know that) decided to be an idiot and tell her he also had a date;
and he also says she’ll meet him in a party that some kid is throwing, because they're obviously going;
so. the next week he’s trying to find a date in every bar he knows;
and the rest of the cobras are there too, they’re supposed to help but they’re just laughing at johnny and not doing their job;
bobby + tommy told him to just tell her the truth;
jimmy + dutch are the ones that are encouraging him;
then he runs into daniel in one of these bars;
they are talking (fighting?) and something just clicks in joihnny's mind and he makes the best or worst decision in his life;
"larusso, do you wanna be my fake boyriend this weekend?"
"what?"
"be my fake boyfriend so my ex will want me back! i wanna make her jealous!"
"dude... what the fuck?"
after a lot of talking he kinda agrees to do it and there's more plot and all but i'm lazy sorry;
they go to this party and ali see them and thinks that's all a lie and starts asking the cobras if they are really a couple;
dutch: "of course they are! all that fight was just sexual tension!"
tommy: "you should see them more, they stay in their own little world and forget there's people around"
bobby: "well, why wouldn't it be? it was always in front of us"
she even asks jimmy girlfriend, but even the girl says is real. so she just accepts it... does she?;
they start hanging out more and at some point they decide they're actually good friends;
sometimes daniel sleeps at johnny's just because ali lives in the same building johnny lives and she would see him;
because everything they're doing is to make her jealous;
which, by the way, is working;
then she starts invinting them to every party she knows because it would be nice to have more couples in their circle of friends;
in one of these meeting someone says they should talk about what they like the most about their partners;
and since daniel is the one that actually is always talking about what he likes about johnny, he starts but someone decides that johnny should say something for once;
and that's when johnny starts to panic because he's not a romantic guy and has no idea what to talk about;
so he talks about stuff they did like listen to speedwagon in daniels car while eating pizza after class;
he talks about when daniel slept in his house and decided to clean every thing and buy food. so when he and dutch woke up the whole apartment was actually clean and they had real food;
so they decided daniel should live with them forever;
he talks abou daniels food and how good it is. and everyone buys it because they can see they're in love;
and that's when it starts getting weird;
and just like in housekeeper everything starts to turn into a ball of lies and no one knows what to do anymore;
the boys are getting crazy because they say stuff that don't match what the other is saying;
bc johny actually likes daniel and doesn't know how to deal with that;
and daniel is just there. being himself. laughing and cleaning and cooking and being fucking pretty;
bobby is the first one to notice, and johnny can finally talk about it;
about how scared he is that daniel will be disgusted or something worse;
and then leave and tell ali about the fake dating;
and ruin his life!;
then the rest of the cobras know and decides that they're helping johnny get the d;
and there is a lot more, but i just don't know how to write about it sorry;
but yeah, lawrusso fake dating au when?
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jellyjimmy · 2 years
Text
summer luck
jimmy/dutch
@ogcobrafest
ao3 link
summer before sophomore year, johnny decides plain bikes are too childish for them.
“we’re gonna be in our second year of high school,” jimmy remembers him proclaiming one evening, “we need an upgrade; something that’ll really show these bitches we’re cobra kai.”
after ruling out cars on the notion that there’s no point in each of them buying a car, and then skateboards on the notion, “what the hell makes you think skateboards are any better than bikes, tommy,” the answer seems to materialize before their eyes: motorcycles — a motorized upgrade of what they’re used to, and something their parents wouldn’t bother throwing a fit over. 
after a bit of begging for money and a whole lot of arguing over what brand, what model, and, hell, even what color, they pick out their bikes together; then the journey begins. 
it’s fun, if not a bit grueling, but despite johnny’s clumsiness; bobby’s nervous nature; tommy’s apparent death wish with how careless he is; and dutch’s… well, nothing, their shortcomings never become genuine downfalls. 
however, it takes them a bit over a month of practice before they can even think about riding in front of the public eye… as a group. see, jimmy’s just plain bad, the worse of them all; he’s rarely ever kicking off properly, and when he can, he’s never balancing enough to go more than a few feet.
jimmy is their downfall. no one is labeling him as such, but he knows. when everyone’s cruising for what feels like miles ahead of him while he’s stuck in the dirt — elbows and knees skinned half to death — it’s not something he can ignore. 
yet, strangely enough, dutch of all people is always the first one there when jimmy falls. he’s always the first one to throw his helmet in the dirt (if he’s even wearing one to begin with), and the first to rush to jimmy’s side. he’s the person tasked with patching up jimmy, pushing bobby aside with the insistence that, “i know what i’m doing, man, falling off bikes was my childhood!” — something jimmy finds hard to believe considering how riding seems second nature to him.
and if jimmy were honest, the attention is overwhelming; never in his life had he been on the receiving end of such raw displays of empathy, and it being from dutch — the one who picked and prodded at his insecurities the most upon joining cobra kai — made navigating a response towards these actions so much more difficult. 
he’d spent so much of his past longing for attention like this. present day, however, jimmy can only barely spit out, “thank you,” before mentally collapsing under the pressure he’s built for himself. 
he wishes he could say more, he always intends to, but then dutch is responding with, “quit it with the sentimentality — you’re not dying, are you now?”
(jimmy supposes he should praise his luck for being regarded as the silent one — he gets away with the bare minimum, even when he doesn’t want to.)
and dutch patches him up with unwavering care every time, handling jimmy like he’s a porcelain doll instead of a boy who attended classes at the most brutal dojo in the valley; a boy who has taken what seems like a million falls onto asphalt in the last week alone.
he wipes jimmy’s cuts down with alcohol, always giving a mumbled warning about the incoming pain no matter how many times they’ve repeated this routine before. then, with shaky hands, he applies bandaids as smooth as he can over jimmy’s torn skin. these sessions always end with dutch’s heavy eyes boring a hole into jimmy’s soul, and sometimes — if jimmy is lucky — a chaste kiss on the last bandaid applied, followed by the usual cocky grin. 
(lucky? why would that be a reward of jimmy’s luck? 
lucky?
fuck.)
but eventually, when school rolls around in late august, jimmy can finally, and consistently, ride without falling. everyone celebrates the night jimmy falls zero times, his ears ringing from screamed praises and arms covered in red handprints from loving slaps — he swears bobby even tears up a little bit. 
and when jimmy gets a moment with dutch alone, all he sees is dutch’s wide, goofy grin before being pulled in towards his chest. 
“don’t get any better at riding,” dutch teases. “i’ll miss playing nurse for you too much.” 
the first day of their sophomore year kicks off with fiery excitement, the confidence flowing through johnny palpable to everyone in the whole valley. stares linger on them when they enter the parking lot; dutch, who rides next to jimmy that morning, bathes in the attention like it's his sole source of energy. 
jimmy never really gets to the point the others are at — where they can speed faster than what seems fathomable, or stand up in the middle of riding to get that extra rush of adrenaline — but jimmy can ride, and that’s all that matters.
he’s covered in bruises half the time, from karate and soccer and the fall off his motorcycle he has at least once a month, but dutch is always there to patch him up; dutch is always there to kiss him better. 
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Text
silent feelings | lawrusso
by lustvi
After the All Valley, Johnny develops a strong fear of failure and becomes overwhelmed with his last experience with Kreese. He was supposed to thank Mr. Miyagi, the person who technically saved his life from the stupid interaction, but instead didn't come to school for the next week. He just ran off like some loser.
Daniel knew something was wrong, and tried to convince himself that he didn't care. He tried to convince himself he didn't care because Johnny's friends were still bullying him & Johnny had bullied him before too, but he soon came to terms that 'caring' for Johnny had a much deeper meaning.
Words: 350, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: Karate Kid (Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: M/M
Characters: Daniel LaRusso, Johnny Lawrence, John Kreese, Ali Mills (Karate Kid), Bobby Brown (Karate Kid), Dutch (Karate Kid), Tommy (Karate Kid), Jimmy (Karate Kid), Freddy Fernandez
Relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence
Additional Tags: Movie: The Karate Kid (1984), Hurt Daniel LaRusso, Bisexual Johnny Lawrence, Bisexual Daniel LaRusso, Hurt Johnny Lawrence, Post-Movie: The Karate Kid Part II (1986), Movie: The Karate Kid Part II (1986), Johnny Lawrence Needs a Hug, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Karate Kid II but Daniel never goes to Okinawa
source https://archiveofourown.org/works/44105868
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desolateice · 2 years
Text
Cut and Rewritten: This was supposed to be around Chapter 42, after they get back from New York City and before the prom. But I wanted the magazine’s to go with Daniel and that wouldn’t have happened if this interaction had happened earlier. So I got part of the way and then changed my mind and cut it and then rewrote it.
Dutch wanted to take over prom. The idea was weird. The meaning of that six months ago, a couple years ago would have been vastly different than what it meant now. Then it would've been Dutch with joints and booze to sneak in. It would’ve meant introducing Johnny to girls he'd met at the punk bar or at the beach or somewhere where he'd somehow managed to charm them.
As Johnny's life fell into a routine prom kept popping up. Being on student council meant Tommy was still busy. Busy planning prom now that the senior trip was over and then when that was over it was graduation. Johnny didn't know whether he pitied Tommy or was jealous. But he still hosted study night a couple times as they neared the end of the school year. He wasn't the only one busy. Jimmy had gotten to go to visit his campus early. Had met his teachers. Had talked to some fancy lawyers and that long trek ahead, like Ali, that he had and he seemed busy, distracted with a future far off in the distance. Like he already had a job, was already loaded down with cases. Which didn't make any sense to Johnny because what college puts the high school seniors to work early? 
So that left Bobby and Dutch in charge of their prom plans and festivities. And Bobby just held up his hands and told Johnny that because he couldn't take all of the girls he decided he wouldn't take any, and would just go visit them on campus at a different date. He made it seem like this big deal. But Johnny could tell he was delighted to have been invited to campus. 
Dutch seemed so absolutely pleased with his secret plans. He just told Johnny to "Dress pretty". 
Johnny focused on everything else. It was better not to try and think about Dutch and his plans and whatever they might be. It was better to focus on doing kata and helping Mr. Miyagi. Focus on helping the kids with their homework. Going to the animal sanctuary and taking too many dogs on walks around the farm. Throwing balls and freebees and running this way and that with them because they needed the exercise and someone to play with. He focuses on finishing Pride and Prejudice with Daniel. The way Daniel liked to lay down with his legs in his lap, as they sat in the grass together. Usually at Mr. Miyagi's, sometimes at a park.
It's a weird reversal.
Daniel quiet and listening to Johnny. Watching him with those big brown eyes. He was kind of relieved when they finish the chapter and moved on to other homework. All that focus on him was overwhelming. He always got nervous. Heart pounding in his ears. But he was trying to enjoy the moments before they slipped past.
He tried to enjoy dinner with Mrs. LaRusso and the way Daniel would drag him to his room, the way friends do to talk about everything and nothing, to go over homework and math problems. 
Until one evening that he was sitting at Daniel's desk, Daniel's radio on and he looked for a pencil because his broke over the last problem. Daniel was lounging on his bed, giving him time and space to work through the problems before looking them over and he opened the drawer to see a familiar magazine. Johnny pulled it out. It was undeniably the one. The right issue. Tommy's aunt always showed him the cover. He never wanted a copy. Never thought he could bring himself to look or take it home. Because Sid would say something. Would get weird about it. Sid had this thing about how models really should only be women and that male models all were...well liked guys.
Accurate for him he supposed, but he didn't want to deal with the outbursts.
He flicked it open, wondering, curious.
He spotted Daniel out of the corner of his eye, bolt up, rushing over. Like this magazine was some kind of secret. Johnny knew he was in it. He knew that Daniel had worked on the set. It wasn't some secret that he'd have it. Unless Daniel had gotten childish and drawn fake mustaches on his face or something. 
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rvspberry · 3 years
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Idk if anyone has really talked about the second tournament like this but I can’t get it out of my mind how Terry Silver was probably responsible for EVERYTHING that happened.
First, we know that he purchased the arena for the All Valley. He used his money and power as the purchaser of the stadium to announce this at the start of the tournament, ostensibly so that the All Valley will always have a spot for the competition. But Silver did this intentionally to show how involved he is in the tournament. I think this also underscores the implication in my second point.
Because, logically speaking, he also probably was responsible for the change of the All Valley rules in terms of the previous winner only having to fight in the final match to entice Daniel to compete. Why else would the rules change so drastically from one year to the next? And why else would these rules have changed to the current iteration within CK? (We can’t blame it all on retconning when we’ve seen them retcon in CK, too, to explain the canon in the TKK movies - see Ali and the yellow Ford car mishap.)
Third, isn’t it within reason, too, to assume that the lack of safety in the second tournament was orchestrated by Silver? That the hits and moves that would have disqualified someone in the previous year are flying in this one, that the interaction between non-fighters with the fighters on the opposite team (Silver, Kreese, or Snake v. Daniel on the sidelines) are okay? I’d have to find the time stamp but I’m pretty sure one of them even shoved Daniel while he’s knocked out of bounds and like, how would that even fly? Dutch and Bobby both get disqualified for shit that would probably have been fine at the second tournament. Maybe there wasn’t a council/panel/committee like in CK (where they stated that Cobra Kai had the lifetime ban) but some people have to come together and determine the rules for a tournament, and the rules from the last tournament are being explicitly ignored. Why else is that referee not throwing Barnes out for what he’s doing and just gives him warning after warning? Are we not supposed to assume that Silver had his hand in this, too?
Like, okay, you can claim that they retconned it all — and I would shrug and say sure, okay, maybe. But meta is about reading into shit and analyzing what we do have to go off of until we’re given more information hopefully in season 4.
And honestly it makes SENSE to make these assumptions, considering that Silver bought the building and got to speak??? At the opening ceremony, where he passed out Cobra Kai shirts??? Like, who else would do that besides an announcer like in the first film if Silver doesn’t have more power over the direction of the tournament?
I argue that all of what I’m assuming he did is exactly what Silver meant when he said he was going to build Daniel up to think he was invincible and then “in front of a thousand people” realize he’s not in the most humiliating way possible. It wasn’t just about surprising Daniel with Barnes, or with Kreese being alive, but the whole entire affair of the tournament. Silver doesn’t tell Daniel his level of involvement, how he bought the stadium, and we aren’t told but I really do think it’s implied and given a lot of context that Silver also manipulated the rules and the referees. Daniel is justifiably ranting and raving during Silver’s speech, because even he sees the layers of manipulation Silver has gone through to fuck Daniel over. It’s not just “I can’t believe this guy” has the audacity to pretend to be a good sport, but also “I can’t believe this guy” bought the building, and is making announcements before the tournament when his dojo is representing a fighter in the competition, and that Silver went through all of this just to hurt Daniel.
And it really is all to hurt Daniel, and through Daniel, hurt Mr. Miyagi. Like, Daniel’s downfall is Silver’s goal. He wants to break Daniel for good and he almost does until Miyagi tells Daniel he can’t lose to fear. Daniel is on the mat, almost unable to continue because of the pain and the relentlessness and just… all of it is too much for him to handle until Miyagi supports him. It’s a surprise to me that Silver drops everything after the tournament and doesn’t continue to harass Daniel, but that’s movie ending for you.
Sometimes the easiest explanation is the one we’re given up front. Silver tells us his plan through his conversations with Kreese which are probably the only times we actually get a sense of Silver’s true motivations and his true self. Even when he’s around his staff, Silver has a front up, but it all comes down for Kreese. Like, does Daniel ever find out that Silver broke into Miyagi’s house and was stalking around outside while he got changed?
If you buy the queercoded reading of the movie and the implied sexual relationship between Daniel and Silver, the layers of manipulation are even crazier. It’s a lot. Why else is Daniel so hell bent on keeping Cobra Kai out of the Tournament? It’s not just about Kreese, nor about Johnny. Kreese being dead and Johnny not knowing Silver are enough to placate the committee and, until Daniel finds out that Kreese is alive, he has a tentative positive relationship with Johnny. Silver poured thousands (probably tens of thousands if not more; I’m not good with guesstimating costs in the ‘80s) and spent about three months of his life solely devoted to manipulating an eighteen year old boy whose only offense was winning a tournament and Mr. Miyagi humiliating Silver’s BFF when the guy couldn’t land a punch anywhere but to car windows. They went big on purpose with Silver and made him a supervillain in a sports movie to make him larger-than-life levels of scary. And so it doesn’t really surprise me nor bother me when people focus on Daniel’s trauma at Silver’s hands because no one else in Daniel’s life has fucked him over to that extent.
Anyway I don’t really see people talk about ALL that Silver has done or what it’s implied that he’s done around the Tournament in the 3rd movie so I had to write out my thoughts.
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elsonambulo · 2 years
Text
Was thinking about the Greek myth about Selene and Endymion, and then I said, "This would be great for the Don't Fall Asleep prompt for @ckhalloween." And then I wrote down my rambling thoughts.
For those who know the myth, you have a vague idea of what this will look like; for those who don't - you'll see :)
AU where men and women all over the Valley start just...not waking up. They're not dead, they're not in a coma, they just cannot be woken up.
People start panicking. Will they be the next to not wake? They start taking catnaps at work, on buses, in taxis, because they figure it's safer than getting sleep at night. Hospitals start filling up with people suffering from sleep deprivation, people who have to be sedated even as they beg not to be. Most of them wake up. Some do not.
There's a rise in religious conversion and in belief in the occult. Every night, some will pray to either stay awake or to wake up in the morning. Others take supposed precautions against the supernatural. Alliances are formed, where people take turns sleeping while the ones who stay awake stand watch against whatever could be causing this.
There's no proof that any of this works, but people keep doing it.
Johnny's in his twenties, and goes the alliance route with the other Cobras. Bobby tries to get them to pray with him. Jimmy is the only one who humors him. Johnny doesn't see the point. Whatever is making people stay asleep - it's either going to get them or it's not, and the only surefire way to make sure it doesn't is to try to stay awake as often as possible, and if you aren't awake, make sure you have friends who will at least be able to tell people what happened to you if you don't wake up.
And so it happens that one night, Johnny is the only one awake, even though it was supposed to be him and Dutch standing watch. He'll rag on him for that in the morning, hopefully.
Between one heavy blink and the next, the young man is there. He's tan, and fluffy haired, with big dark eyes and thin limbs. His smile is dazzling. Johnny doesn't let this deter him.
"Who are you?" he asks, holding his flashlight up threateningly. The young man laughs brightly, clearly delighted, and he easily gives his name: Daniel.
The next question is, obviously, "what do you want?"
And Daniel says, "You."
It turns out Daniel is the one doing all this to the people of the Valley, because Daniel is a minor fucking deity. "It gets so boring," he whines, sounding so so human, "and a guy's gotta have company right? Can't live on looking but not touching forever."
He explains that he only intended to do this to one person at first: a pretty brunette named Amanda, because he happened to see her sleeping face and fell immediately in love.
"I was going to take her soul," he says easily, like he's not talking about murder, and Johnny clutches his flashlight tighter, subtly going into a defensive stance.
"Yeah, I wanted to take her with me so we could be together forever. You guys get old otherwise." He wrinkles his nose, and Johnny almost laughs. "But Mr. Miyagi - that's my mentor, he wants to retire and wants me to take up his duties - he said that I shouldn't take a human's life just cuz I want someone to romance. And he suggested this."
This being keeping Amanda asleep forever, young and beautiful and eternal and someone Daniel could visit in her dreams. "Only they're not really dreams, that's just how her mind perceives it, you know?"
Johnny does not know, but he nods anyway.
"But then I got bored. Amanda's real cool and all, and she knows exactly what she wants" - he waggles his eyebrows - "but I'm a social kind of guy! I need lots of friends! So I kept doing it."
"And now you want to do it to me."
"And now I want to do it to you." Daniel grins. "So fall asleep, why don't ya? Feels weird to put you to sleep myself."
And Jesus Christ, this guy's morality is seriously messed up, and Johnny kind of wants to yell at him, but he's tired, and still a little mindblown, and alright, a little scared, because Johnny Lawrence doesn't like to back down but he doesn't fancy his chances against a deity.
So instead, he thinks for a bit. He has the time, Daniel seems perfectly willing to wait him out, probably sensing how tired he is, the bastard. And finally, he comes up with an idea. It's not an idea he super likes, but if this guy is gunning for him and his body anyway, he might as well go in with eyes wide open.
"I'll make you a deal," he says.
"A deal," Daniel repeats, amused. Johnny rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, a deal. I go with you - not asleep, you take me and my soul up to wherever you live, and we'll have a happily ever after. But you have to let all these people wake up. And you can't do all this or anything like it again. I'll be with you, for reals; you won't have any need to visit sleeping people anyway."
Daniel scrunches up his nose. "But...what if I get bored?"
Johnny steps forward, straightening to his full height. Maybe flexes a little. "Trust me, you won't be getting bored."
Daniel looks him up and down, licks his lips. "Alright," he says, still having the nerve to sound faintly amused. "Say I take your deal. What's gonna stop me from not honoring it?"
Your weird fucking morals where you'll kill someone but won't force them to go to sleep, Johnny doesn't say. What he does say is, "The fact that you asked at all." (He feels very clever.)
This doesn't have the effect of shutting Daniel up in awe, like Johnny had hoped. Daniel says, "I could be tricking you, by asking. Making myself seem all innocent and then bam! I hit you with the 'you should've known bet-"
"Are you taking the deal or not?"
Daniel blinks. Slowly says, "Yeah I guess. It's not like other people are gonna offer themselves up like this."
Before he can ask why Johnny's willing to do it, willing to die - doesn't everyone dream of being a hero? He wants to prove Sid wrong. He wants to honor his mother's memory by doing something good. His only friends are the Cobras and they have each other - Johnny says, "Undo it first. You can take me with you tomorrow night."
Daniel huffs, like Johnny's just being so unreasonable, but does as he's told.
The next day, people celebrate. The sleepers have woken up, all talking about strange dreams where they hold moonlight in their arms. No one ever figures out why this happened, or why all the sleepers speak of the same dreams. It never happens again.
Johnny spends the day with the Cobras, and then leaves them a letter - he explains he had to leave, that he won't be coming back, and that he'll think of them every day but won't be in contact. He mails it to Bobby, so he can be sure he won't receive it until the next day at the earliest. And that night, he goes with Daniel.
The Cobras search for their friend of course, but to no avail. His case goes cold.
As for Johnny - maybe this isn't a happily ever after, but it isn't so bad. He's forever young, he's gonna "live" forever, and he has a hot and really kind of sweet - if sometimes thoughtlessly cruel - babe at his side. What's to complain about that?
(If he doesn't think too long and hard about how he got here, the answer is an easy and happy nothing.)
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lupinblacktheone · 3 years
Text
"So, I was thinking": a modern college!AU:
Johnny is bored. He has already finished all of his crosswords; all of his friends are busy minding their own business and won't pick up their phones.
Classes won't begin until next Monday. Johnny arrived at his dorm last night and he doesn't know when his roommate will be there. All he knows about this person is his name: LaRusso, Daniel.
Wondering about this mysterious boy could set Johnny free from his boredom. Is he a nerd? Or a drama kid? Johnny hopes he won't sing all the time. Of course he likes music (who doesn't?), but musicals... he isn't ready for them yet.
It would be nice to have some common likings with him. Maybe horror movies or breakfast for dinner (well, Johnny is so broke that he eats it for all meals, basically).
Remembering the old times, which weren't good, not at all, tugs at Johnny's heartstrings. He doesn't miss arguing with his parents all the time, but he certainly liked not having to iron his clothes himself. And he misses messing around with Tommy, Jimmy, Bobby and Dutch after school.
Oh, and Karate! Johnny misses it so much that it hurts. He couldn't find a Karate club to join (is this a thing? In Johnny's opinion, it should be. There are clubs for everything in this campus. If he can't find one, he'll form one). Maybe he can practice with Daniel and he could be the second member of the Karate club.
"Hello! I'm Daniel!"
Johnny stares at the boy. He's short, dark-haired and has round brown eyes.
"Johnny", the blond boy gets up, approaches Daniel and shakes his hand. "Can I help you unpacking?"
"Please", Daniel sighs and rubs his neck. "My mother just dropped me off and turned the car around. I barely had time to say goodbye. Can you believe it? I think she wants to rent my room while I'm gone, but I don't think I'll be going home anytime soon. How about you?"
Obviously, the first thing Johnny learns about Daniel is: he's a chatterbox. Second thing: he's from Jersey. He lives with his mother and would love to learn martial arts, but her mother wouldn’t let him because she’s afraid he will get hurt.
"I know Karate", Johnny confesses with a little smile.
***
Sometimes, Johnny regrets having told Daniel about his passion for Karate, because the kid didn't stop begging Johnny for some classes until he finally gave up.
Their dorm is too small and they would destroy it sparring there, so Johnny decides to have the class outside, behind the gym. Daniel said he would meet Johnny there after dinner (and yes, Daniel also has breakfast for all meals, since he is just as broke as Johnny).
December is on the way, so Johnny is wearing as much sweaters as he can (including his Cobra Kai jacket). He leans his back against the red brick wall and puts a cigarette between his lips.
Daniel shows up some minutes later, carrying a heavy messenger bag on his shoulder and wrapped in hoodies and coats (he has lots of cool hoodies; Johnny loves to borrow them and he is using the baseball one right now).
"Ugh", Daniel puts the bag down, massaging his shoulder.
"Are you ok?", Johnny asks with a worried look on his face.
"Perfect. Let's do this."
They get on fighting positions and spar for a while. When they get tired, they walk back to their room, peacefully talking about the day.
"Let me carry this for you", Johnny picks the messenger bag, even though Daniel has already bent to pull it.
He places it over his shoulder and Daniel walks beside him, ranting about his lame Calculus professor.
"I couldn't convince Mrs. Warter to postpone the paper's due date", Johnny complains when Daniel asks about his day. "I'll be lucky if I get a C on it."
"Do you want me to help you?"
Yes, please, he almost answers. Johnny enjoys having Daniel around. They don't have many common likings besides Karate and breakfast food, but he really enjoys staying up late with him, sharing their only desk (Johnny begun to work as a cashier in a store near the campus and Daniel writes other people's assignments for money and they are saving money to improve the place) and laptops on study sessions. Or to spend rare and lazy Sundays in their room, doing crosswords (Daniel bought some magazines and gave to Johnny). Or to share breakfast meals in the middle of the night because they can't sleep.
"Are you free tonight?", he asks, his voice sounds desperate, just as his eyes.
"Is this a study session or a date?", Daniel replies jokingly and raises an eyebrow. "Sure. I can help you."
Johnny opens his laptop and shows Daniel what he's working on.
"I mean, it's not bad, but could use some adjustments here and there. Let's get to work."
Daniel presses the keyboard keys hard with strong movements that emulate a pianist, but with perfectly tied hair. His brain is formulating what should be in the text and getting rid of what shouldn't be read by Johnny's professor.
"I think we're done here", Daniel declares.
"Thanks. I'm gonna buy you a coffee tomorrow, with extra cream."
"Much appreciated", the boy winks and Johnny's heart skips a beat. "So, I was thinking..."
"What a miracle", Johnny teases, smiling to distract Daniel from his blushing ears.
"Anyway, are you going home for Christmas?"
"I don't think so. You?"
"Also no. I don't have enough money for a ticket to Parsipanny."
Daniel looks at Johnny for a moment. His blue eyes are usually shiny, but now... he's more than just sad. Johnny looks depressed and scared.
"Are you alright?", Daniel reaches for Johnny's hand. "You can talk to me. I'm here for you."
Johnny doesn't talk. Instead, he goes for a hug. A big and warm hug. He clings onto Daniel as if he was the only thing keeping him from being blown away.
He doesn't want to cry. However, he can't fight the tears anymore. Daniel holds Johnny, trying to keep him together only with his bare hands. He doesn't try to whisper comfort words in Johnny's ear, he just stays there, providing his roommate all the support he can.
That night, Johnny falls asleep in Daniel's arms. He has never felt this safe before.
The next morning, Johnny rushes to the closest cafe shop to get the nicest cup they have. He drops by the dorm to put the coffee on the desk with a note: To the best roommate ever. Thank you for everything. Love, J.
He sends the paper to Mrs. Warter as soon as he takes a seat in the computer lab for his first class, hoping Daniel's help can save his poor ass from failing Warter's class.
A few hours later, Johnny is waiting for the last class to begin so he can get to work. Not that he likes standing up by a counter telling old people where they can find raisins, plum juice and other things old people buy. But at least, he gets to listen to his music and does little pieces of homework between a client and another.
There is something Johnny can't do at the store: see Daniel. Too bad they don't take many classes together, because every time Johnny sees Daniel entering the classroom, the world changes. It becomes brighter and more beautiful. He knows it's cliché, but Johnny is tired of pretending to be the perfect son, athlete... he just wants to be Johnny.
And Johnny is brave.
"So, I was thinking...", Johnny says when Daniel sits by his side.
"That's unusual", Daniel lets out that amusement air through his nose. "What is it?"
"Do you wanna go out? With... with me?"
That is really unusual. Johnny never was this reticent before. Not even when he noticed he had a crush on Ali Mills.
“Yeah, sure. When?”
“How about Friday? My shift ends at 5:30.”
“Sounds great.”
***
Johnny spends Christmas in his dorm, with Daniel. They curl up on Johnny’s bed, wrapped in Daniel’s hoodies, solving crosswords puzzles and drinking tea while listening to Johnny’s music. Neither of them wants to talk about their families.
Growing up as an only child, Johnny never had to share his things. He wouldn’t even allow Ali to read his poetry (he wrote some about her, tho), or let his friends go through his Spotify playlist. Not because he's embarrassed to like these songs, but because the lyrics describe him so perfectly that he's not comfortable with someone listening to it in front of him.
When he met Daniel and found out they could be good friends (maybe more than that? Johnny certainly hopes so), he felt an urge to take the boy on a journey through his world. First, they shared Karate, then crossword puzzles and went on and on, discovering little things about one another.
“Huh… I couldn’t get you anything for Christmas, so I wrote you a poem. Wanna hear it?”
Daniel doesn’t say anything, just gets closer to him as Johnny clears his throat and searches his notebook for his newest composition. Once he finds it, he puts the paper in front of his eyes (he was brave enough to ask the boy out, but not to have that lovely brown eyes gazing at him while he reads his feelings out.)
“I loved it, Johnny. Now get ready for your present.”
Johnny doesn’t close his eyes when his lips are pressed by Daniel’s mouth. It feels so good that they do it again and again until they fall asleep, holding each other.
***
Graduation is almost here. Most students have moved from the dorms or plan to do it soon. Daniel and Johnny, on the other hand, haven’t mentioned the matter yet. As you can imagine, they don’t want to live with their families again. The only thing Johnny wants is to stay with Daniel and he wonders if Daniel wants the same thing.
“Hey, Danny”, it was supposed to be a nice and quiet study session before the finals, but Johnny can’t hold this down any longer. “I was thinking… do you wanna live with me?”
“Are you kidding me? You’re never getting rid of me, blondie.”
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quicksilver813 · 3 years
Text
stripped-down emotion takin’ over
“touch” by animal sun - lawrusso - dubcon; homophobic language
- - - - -
The flash of a flat stomach and a thin chest under that white gi won’t leave the backs of his eyes. He’d known LaRusso was slim, fucking dainty, may as well have been a fucking girl, really, just look at those legs, those lips, those eyes -
Those goddamn dick-sucking lips, holy shit, fucking red as hell -
The other Cobras are talking, laughing, roughhousing around him, and Dutch bumps hard into Johnny’s shoulder when Bobby shoves him away; it’s the burst of ache that flashes the image of LaRusso’s cupid’s bow away. “Did you see how fuckin’ scared he was?” Dutch is laughing, and it says something, it says a whole hell of a lot, for how bad Johnny’s brain’s got, that he doesn’t catch on right at first.
“Yeah,” he says, and then, louder, when he sees Bobby give him the side-eye, “yeah, fuckin’ flower, probably never even had to fight somebody for real yet.”
No one but Bobby seems to notice when his voice trails off quieter there at the end, quieter until it’s drowned out among the Cobras and their cries. No one but Bobby seems to hear when, frustrated by the burning itch that’s clawing at his chest, frustrated by his pulse beating loud in his ears, he mutters a curt “be back” and slips away, back down the halls.
Daniel’s still right where they’d left him, sitting on the bench with his knees bouncing and hands clenched between them, though at least he’s gotten his goddamn gi done up right, fucking twerp. Hasn’t ever fought. Bet that’s not even his belt.
“Bet that’s not even yours.”
It sends a sick and vicious thrill way down deep in Johnny’s veins when Daniel leaps at his voice, springs to his feet and whirls at the ready - when he sees the flash of fear go bright and prey-weak in his eyes. “Get out of here, Lawrence, come on — “
“Or what?” he asks, and, fuck, he’s glad he knows how to keep his confidence in his voice, even when it’s gone everywhere else. He takes one step, then another, edging closer to the LaRusso boy bit by bit and fucking burning at the heat he imagines he can feel coming off that Jersey-dark skin, at the heat that lights inside him when Daniel backs off one step, then another - matching him stride for stride in reverse, even though he’s poised to fight. “Gonna get disqualified before we even fight, LaRusso?”
“What do you want?” Daniel asks, and Johnny swears he can hear him, see him, swallow, that slender throat working and those damn lips parting on a little puff of air when he bumps into the bench behind him. He shifts to the side, starting to edge back around it toward the lockers as Johnny closes in. “Where’s your boys, come on, Lawrence, you know you can’t do shit to me without them here — “
“I’m not here to fight you,” he says, cutting him off and watching confusion ignite. Before Daniel can ask, Johnny says, “I want - “ and then he pauses, because, fuck, what is he supposed to say?
I want to find out if that mouth’s as good as it looks? I want to know what your blood tastes like?
Daniel’s looking at him different now, fear dropped down into wariness, but his stance hasn’t swayed.
Johnny clears his throat, drops his gaze to the black belt around those girly fucking hips, thinks wildly, I want to see if you even have a dick under there -
He chokes the thought to death before it goes anywhere worse than it already had.
“Spit it out, Lawrence, come on,” Daniel’s snapping, and Johnny scoffs and moves in closer, quick and sudden all at once, because it’s always been easier to fuck and fight than it is to talk, goddammit, why is it always -
Daniel’s hand shoots up when his shoots out, but before the fucker can hit him twice, Johnny’s caught his other hand midair and twisted hard, twisted until Daniel’s yelping aloud at the grind of his bones, until he’s forced to twist, too, shoved up hard against the lockers with his cheek to the grates.
“I’ll yell,” Daniel’s saying, gasping, really, as Johnny readjusts his grip to keep both his wrists pinned, and, fuck, Johnny feels like he’s moving through a dream, everything loose and slow and fucking faint, but the fragility of those wrists in his hands, how fucking thin they are, how hard they’re flexing without anywhere to go...
It makes him ache.
“I’ll yell, Lawrence, I’ll fucking do it, Mr. Miyagi’s supposed to be here soon and there’s refs crawlin’ all over, let me go before I beat your ass - “
And the absurdity of that startles a laugh from Johnny even as he leans in, even as he presses his nose into the joint of Daniel’s deer-thin neck and shoulders, even as he breathes in deep when Daniel shudders. “You can’t do shit to me,” he grits out, and, fuck, he feels almost drunk now, floating. “You know you can’t.”
Daniel’s squirming harder now, and Johnny feels him twist like he’s about to kick back, so before he can he shoves one knee up high, gets his thigh wedged up in between Daniel’s own and presses hard, and it’s not even a conscious thought, really - hell, he barely even thought at all - but all of a sudden Daniel jerks and gasps and he’s tense in a different way, and.
Oh.
“You like that,” Johnny purrs through the molasses haze of his head, and he doesn’t let himself remember he came here for this, he came here to fuck, came here to sink his teeth in and make Daniel bleed. “Shit, fuckin’ fag, huh? You like that?”
He pushes his leg up harder, thigh wedged tight against Daniel’s ass through his gi, and, shit, he feels Daniel struggle to widen his stance, feels the way his hips jerk minutely at the pressure on his -
So you do have a dick under there, Danielle.
“No,” Daniel’s spitting out, but his voice is strained and Johnny can fucking /hear/ his pulse jackrabbiting in the void of his head. “No, shithead, let go - “
Johnny twists his grip tighter with one hand (he relishes in the groan it draws) so he can fist the other in those fucking cupid curls, so he can wrench Daniel’s head back hard - so he can see the arch of that pretty throat, see him swallow hard and gasp aloud. “Don’t tell me what to do. You hear me? Don’t you fucking talk to me.”
He’s trying to keep his voice low, trying to keep everybody else in the damn joint from hearing, but everybody else is too busy swapping stories and sparring out in the auditorium, too busy riling up their cheering sections, to hear if Johnny Lawrence makes Daniel LaRusso cry. He knows it, and from the way Daniel shuts up, back arched hard and that damn mouth hanging open for him to pant for air, the twerp knows it, too.
“Better,” Johnny huffs out through clenched teeth, and he realizes he’s frozen like this now, frozen with Daniel’s throat bared to him and Daniel’s legs nearly open wide around his own. That haze in his head is getting worse, it’s getting harder for him to think, and he isn’t too sure what the hell to do, now that he’s got Bambi where he wants him. Isn’t quite sure if he wants to sink his teeth in and taste his blood, get LaRusso disqualified for fighting because he knows Daniel would never tell...
Or if he wants to push his leg up harder between those quivering thighs, if he wants to make Daniel get off like a fucking girl against him, make him soak his gi and have to fight like that, have to face Johnny in the end - because they both know it’s inevitable - with this memory and his own cum sticky and drying on his skin.
Daniel’s pulse is too loud in the pseudo-silence of the locker room, his breathing too arrhythmic and aborted. It’s scratching at the inside of Johnny’s brain, fucking up his senses, making it harder to fucking think. When Johnny shoves him harder against the lockers, hears metal grind on bird-bone ribs, Daniel jerks and gasps and whines, and - fuck. Johnny knows he’s not imagining the dark and glossy layer that drops low over those eyes.
“Course,” he mutters, shoving his face in close, into the side of Daniel’s neck to breathe in deep. He doesn’t smell like a girl, not quite, but he sure as hell doesn’t smell like a man, either, there’s something different - softer, something intoxicating buried under the scent of sweat and fear. “O’ course you like that, fucking pussy. Bet this is the only way anyone’s ever fucked you, right, bet they’ve only ever roughed you up like this before - “
Daniel’s body shudders where Johnny is pressed flat and flush against it, and his next breath comes as a hiccuping sigh. “Shut up,” and, shit, his voice is wavering. “Shut up, Lawrence, just let me go...”
Johnny ignores him, giving in at last to the urge he’s had since that first fucking night on the beach. He sets his teeth and tongue to where he can feel Daniel’s pulse seize, bites down hard to make him cry and licks his tongue along the dents just made... but he doesn’t make him bleed, because...
Because holding Daniel flat and flush like this, keeping him trapped with one hand in his hair and one at his wrists, pressed up close against him from chest to waist and further down, licking over that darkened skin, he realizes... he doesn’t want him disqualified. He wants to fight him, wants to beat him bloody and watch him grovel to that old sensei when he loses, and he wants - he wants Daniel to find him after, hours or days or weeks after, and he wants Daniel to beg.
“Lawrence,” Daniel’s gritting out again, voice dropped low and hoarse and raw, and it washes over Johnny like liquor as he runs his tongue lower down the tendon in his throat. “Lawrence, J - Johnny, Johnny, come on, man, don’t - “
Johnny twists his hand hard in that dark and perfect hair, and, shit, the little cry it jerks from Daniel - shit, if he hadn’t been hard before, he’s hard now, pressing his way even closer to rut up hard against that taut little ass, those pretty little thighs already opened wide for him. “You like this,” he breathes out, delirious, and his own voice is breaking with every rock of his hips, but at least he isn’t moaning like a damn Encino whore. “Fuckin’ pussy, you like this...”
Daniel’s whimpering now, squirming even harder against Johnny’s grasp, because they both know that while Daniel might be able to beat him in a fair fight, he stands no chance at overpowering him like this. The sounds he’s making, those pathetic little gasps and whines, they’re like a goddamn drug, going straight to Johnny’s head. “Johnny,” he gasps out again, and it takes a second, takes a beat for it to register, with how damn dazed he is, but Johnny realizes - he realizes Daniel’s arching back on his own now, that his hand in Daniel’s hair just a damn accessory now, that Daniel’s -
Johnny’s rhythm falters as he tries to catch up, and he loosens his grip on those curls, and that split-second is enough for Daniel to shift and lean and go limp, head thrown back on Johnny’s shoulder and glass-black eyes blown wide. He’s not trying to get away.
Fucking queer’s not trying to get away.
A low and bitter laugh rises in Johnny’s chest, and he slips his hand around to cup Daniel’s throat, feels him jerk and then swallow hard under his grip when it goes firm. He strokes one thumb hard over his skin, relishes in the tremor he can feel through his whole damn body, tucks his face back out of sight so he can rut. Daniel’s always been too tall for his build - too tall for his slender frame and girlish stature, for those eyes, those lips, that vixen-quick grin - but poised together like this, they fit flush, Daniel’s legs splayed to let Johnny in, Daniel’s head thrown back to let Johnny bruise him...
Johnny doesn’t realize at first that the muffled grunts and gasps he’s hearing are coming from his own damn mouth, that it’s him who sounds like a ruined thing, nearly as bad as Daniel and those high and keening whines. He curses shaky under his breath, turns his head until he feels the tops of collarbones and the curve of a shoulder under his teeth, bites down until he knows skin’s about to split and freezes there, holds Daniel firm holds him with a mating bite for him to fuck against.
Daniel’s squirming again, panting out nonsense words - no, not nonsense, “Let me - let me move, Johnny, come on, man, let go - “ and it takes him a second, but then it hits him, then he realizes Daniel’s circling his hips as best he can trapped against the metal, rocking back and forth on Johnny’s thigh in time with Johnny’s movements. Johnny groans against him, can’t even help it, finally lets go of Daniel’s wrists -
And, shit, he should have fucking known.
As soon as Daniel’s got a hand free, he jams his elbow back hard, and Johnny stumbles and curses aloud. His teeth were still set hard to Daniel’s bones, and he feels skin rip, tastes blood blossom, when Daniel shoves him away. “Fucking asshole, I’ll beat your ass!” Johnny spits out around the blood, wild eyes wide when Daniel whirls to face him, one hand over the bloodied wound where it’s already soaking into his gi.
“You won’t,” Daniel’s saying, thin chest heaving, but Johnny’s already barely listening, because he can see the look in those eyes, the outline of the bitch’s dick through his gi. He doesn’t want me to stop.
“You won’t, because I’ll - I’ll yell, and they’ll come and I’ll tell them you were going to - ... and they’ll disqualify you, but they’ll know what you did, what sick fucking shit you did - “
Johnny wipes his mouth with the back of one hand and takes a step forward, and just like before, Daniel takes a step back, but this time, he doesn’t poise to fight, he just fucking recoils. “You won’t,” Johnny says, and his voice has gone deeper, rougher, in his mockery. “You know you won’t.”
He’s not quite with it enough to feel guilt about the shame that ignites in Daniel’s eyes. The twerp clears his throat, glances away and back again, then away for good. “Johnny - “
Shit, your voice is hot.
“Don’t,” Johnny spits out, and he closes the gap between them all at once, fists a hand around his throat before Daniel can get his hands up to resist. He feels fists clench against his chest, but there’s no pressure there, nothing but want and guilt and fear in those eyes. “Don’t talk to me. You and me, we’re gonna walk out of here, and we’re gonna fight, and when I’ve kicked your ass, yeah? When I’ve won? You’re gonna come crawling to Cobra Kai - to me.”
Daniel’s watching him through that dark glaze, mouth open and panting, skin flushed despite his complexion, and when he shifts, when he changes his stance, Johnny feels him hard beneath his gi. “Never,” Daniel says, but it comes out forced. “N - never.”
Just like that, Johnny shoves him away, and he hits the lockers with a clatter and a groan, sinking to the floor. “Oh, yeah? We’ll see,” he scoffs as he backs away, fumbling to fix his gi - fuck, he can’t fight like this, he’s gotta get over the damn kid. “We’ll see how long it takes, LaRusso. You’ll be begging before long.”
He stumbles into the doorway as he turns to leave, curses aloud and slams his fist into the wire grating. Fucking everything in his fucking way.
He leaves Daniel panting and bruised well before they meet on the mat.
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simply-not-an-egg · 3 years
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“Johnny,” Bobby then said, a little desperately. He was now sitting beside him, an arm around his shoulder, squeezing him a little tight. He, Johnny, was crying, as he would then come to realise, his cheeks wet and his eyes stinging a little. Fuck. That was the absolute last thing he wanted to do today, although he supposed, he was content at least with the fact that he was with Bobby. God help him if he’d started doing this bullshit in front of Dutch.
Hi I am so proud of how this is going so far. Like I am in love.
Anyway, it would be great, once this whole first chapter is posted, if y’all can provide your thoughts because I won’t be writing again until I’ve finished re-analysing KK. So there’ll be time to clean things up if needed.
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