#I can very rarely tell when something is AI and usually need it pointed out to me so you know it’s bad when *I* can tell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

winter-soldier-vibes · 3 years ago

Note

hi! request for one where reader struggles w depression a lot but hides it, tho it’s been getting worse recently and only bucky has noticed the small signs. then one night after no one seeing her the whole day or maybe something happened he went to check on her but she wasn’t in her room and he panics only to find her on the roof and just talks her down <3 all the love

Of course! I hope you're okay love❤❤❤. I saw another anon request something a lil similar in my ask box but I can't find it, maybe it got eaten, but I hope you like this!

Word count: 3,400 (ish)

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, depression, close to an attempt, Bucky talks about HYDRA, feelings of worthlessness.

A/N: This deals with very heavy subject matter, please do not read if you are in a dark place. I am here to talk if you want but I encourage you that if you feel this way in ANY way, no matter how severe, to reach out to someone. I also just wanted to say that the way someone talks someone down is never the same, some people may find a different approach more helpful or realistic. I wrote it this way because this is what I feel in my experience would have been helpful to hear. So please, if you don’t think it’s the way someone should talk someone down - please don’t come at me for it.

Overnight

People often don’t notice the small signs. The smiles that don’t reach the eyes, the dark circles from lack of sleep, the laughs that slowly become more forced. People don’t often pick up on those things right away. They happen slowly, as depression will often manifest. It’s rarely ever a flip of a switch shut down, happy one day and sad the net. Anxiety was like that, small things can trigger panic attacks. But with depression, it was this slow ache that grew in your chest, this dull cloud that made everything darker day by day.

These things rarely happen overnight.

You don’t know what caused this episode. You had struggled with depression and would go through some really low episodes before returning to baseline. It was never great, but it was...manageable. Most of the time. Some things could help you predict when you would go into another episode but you felt yourself slipping and you weren’t quite sure why.

You started withdrawing from the team. Subtly, not all at once. That would cause too much concern and the last thing you wanted was to be a burden. Especially with something like this, you didn’t even have an explanation.

It started slow, training on your own, missing team dinners, that sort of thing. If they were going out to celebrate or staying in for a movie you would slip away to your room where you didn’t have to worry about hiding it.

You didn’t want to be alone, you already felt so goddamn lonely. But somehow being lonely and surrounded by people who loved you hurt more.

The team chalked it up to you wanting to be alone, a bad day, being tired, etc. Whatever recycled excuse you gave them didn’t phase them. At least, not at first.

See, people who have experienced similar things will pick up in the small signs that others show. Someone who knows what anxiety is like will often be the first to pick up on nervous habits and tics. Often people notice when someone’s energy is coming from adrenaline and caffeine rather than sleep when they’ve done the same thing. Someone who knows what it’s like to feel hopeless and not want to reach out - they notice the small signs of withdrawing.

He noticed pretty early on the change in your demeanor. You had always been one to keep to yourself but this was different. You always seemed exhausted in a way that sleep couldn’t ever fix. Your laugh wasn’t quite the way it used to be, now forced and short, not the usual bubbly laugh it was.

Most people are able to just live and go about daily functions - eating, sleeping - it just came naturally to them. Surviving was natural to them. But it seemed like you had to put thought and effort into surviving.

Which, you were.

Slowly it became hard to motivate yourself to do the basic things to take care of yourself. You would do the bare minimum because you had to, but even that was starting to take more effort than it should. You were eating less because you just weren’t that hungry, but you still did because you knew if you didn’t you’d get sick eventually. You spent as much time in your bed as possible, but not much of it was sleeping.

Bucky picked up on these things and came up to talk to you about them, but you’d smile and shake your head.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a little tired I guess.”

You weren’t lying, you were tired - emotionally more than physically.

Tired of more than what the day brought - tired of yourself, of your emotions. Tired of the way you felt so out of touch with yourself, out of control. Tired of how you wanted to get better but no matter what you did, it still came back. You were so tired of being exhausted all the time and there was nothing you could do about it.

You were tired of living this way.

You weren’t necessarily suicidal, it wasn’t that you didn’t want to live. You just didn’t want to live this life, not like this. You were so utterly exhausted day in and day out, every day was about getting to the end of it. Everything seemed pointless and you felt like you were watching life go by but you weren’t living it.

You were surviving. And you didn’t see much of a point to it anymore.

Your mask was cracking. And people were noticing.

Maybe it was when you were falling asleep during mission briefings, or nearly passing out in training because you had forgotten to eat. Maybe it was how no one saw you anywhere that wasn’t necessary. The team passed it off as a bad day or week, something you would get over because you were strong.

But apparently not the strong that you needed to be. You could fight off agents, assassins, you could run for miles. But you couldn’t stop your mind from telling you that life was pointless and you were a waste of space. But the team wrote it off as a bad week. But Bucky knew that this had been going on for much longer than a week.

These things rarely happen overnight.

Too many people were asking you if you were okay, and you weren’t, but you didn’t know how to say it. But you thought that if you had to choke out one more “I’m fine,” you would shatter. And you weren’t ready for everyone to see that.

You stopped coming out of your room unless it was for the bare necessities. You would come out at night for water and food, picking at it in your room so that no one would see you.

But that only made Bucky worry more.

The team, again, wrote it off as you needing some “Alone time” because maybe you just had a “bad day”. Of course they worried about you but they thought that if things were bad, or if there was something you needed help with, you would speak up. Because that’s what you did.

But Bucky was worried. He knew that when someone pushes people away, they may think being alone will help, but it only makes it worse. You may not want to talk to anyone, you may think being alone is what’s best. But it rarely is.

Being alone makes it harder to fight your demons. They can run rampant when given the chance. Being alone is the darkest and loneliest hell, and he knew that all too well.

He wasn’t going to leave you alone in that.

He came up to your room one night, wanting to check on you. He knocked on your door, being met with silence. He knocked again, calling your name, but was again met with silence. He tried the doorknob and found it unlocked, opening the door to an empty room.

Where the hell were you?

You weren’t anywhere else in the tower, so where were you?

Bucky stood there for a moment, confused before he remembered the AI system. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.Where's y/n?”

“I believe that they were heading up to the rooftop about a half-hour ago.”

Bucky’s eyes widened as he sprinted out the hallway and towards the stairs.

---

You looked out over the street, arms crossed over your shivering body. For now, you just looked down at the city below. You chuckled bitterly to yourself. There must have been thousands of people down there, thousands of lives, and you wondered how many people felt the way you did right now. So much hustle and bustle, things to do and places to be. You didn’t know a single person down there, it was just a blur of movement. Yet they all had their own personal stories and hells and blessings and shit that made them who they were.

You wondered how many of them pretended like they were fine.

You were standing closer to the edge than you should’ve been. You weren’t doing yourself any favors. You really shouldn’t be up here, but you didn’t know what else to do. Everything hurt all the time and it was just getting worse. You didn’t know whether or not you were gonna jump but here you were, teetering on the edge. Because no matter how much this hurt you still couldn’t bring yourself to fall forward.

You were scared.

You felt tears sting your eyes, angry, exhausted, everything - you couldn’t do anything right anymore, you felt no purpose, you were tired and scared all of the time. You felt so utterly done with everything, yet here you were with a way out and you were too scared of that too.

You were trapped in your body, trapped in your life, and while you didn’t want to die, you didn’t want it to hurt anymore. It wasn’t that you had nothing to live for. It wasn’t that you had nothing left. You knew you did, you knew the team was there for you. You had more support than you could ever need. But you didn’t know how to use them.

You didn’t even know how this happened. How did things get this bad? You remembered when you were happy, the person you used to be. The person everyone still seemed to think you were. Where did they go? What happened to them? And would you ever be able to be that person again?

Did it even matter? Would anyone even care or notice? They did a great job at ignoring what had been happening. Not that you wanted them to find out in the first place. It was so confusing, you wanted to scream for help, you wanted someone to just fucking notice or something. But didn’t you also answer every single “Are you okay?” with "Oh yeah I’m fine, just a little tired.”

So did you truly want them to know? Did you actually want them to notice or help?

You closed your eyes tightly, shaking your head a little to yourself. It was all so confusing, so frustrating. You didn’t know what to do. You felt completely trapped within yourself.

These things rarely happen overnight. And they never get better overnight either.

You took a breath as you looked down, toes slightly off of the ledge. One step or losing your balance would be all it would take. And then it would be over. Forever. It wouldn’t hurt anymore.

“Y/n?” you heard a calm, albeit nervous voice speak from behind you.

You felt your breath catch in your throat. As you squeezed your eyes shut. “No,” you whispered to yourself.

“Y/n, can you come down from there?”

“Why are you here?” you asked, voice strained with pain.

“Because I’m worried about you,” he said, voice sounding closer.

“I don’t want you to be worried about me! I never wanted anyone to worry about me!” you exclaimed.

“And where did not talking about what was bothering you get you?”

“No one would ever have to worry about me again. Not anymore.”

“No one on the team would ever be able to stop thinking about you,” Bucky started, walking closer to you. He spoke gently, worried he would scare you or you would suddenly jump off. “About how we should’ve worried about you. Everyone would blame themselves and ask themselves if they could’ve helped you if they had seen you were hurting.”

You heard his footsteps stop.

“This isn’t going to solve anything.”

You took a shaky breath. “What else am I supposed to do, huh?” you turned around, back facing the streets below as Bucky stood a few feet in front of you. “Pretend like this is gonna get better? Because it isn’t. I’m so sick and tired of pretending like one day everything’s gonna be okay again. It never stops hurting, it never turns off, and I can’t do it anymore!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face. You shook your head. “I know this won’t solve jack shit and it probably makes me weak, but I’m okay with that. Because I’m past the point of wanting to solve anything. I just want it to stop! Is that too much to ask?!”

“It is if your life is the price!” Bucky exclaimed. “We can’t lose you. You’re a part of this team - this family,” he said a little more calmly, trying to keep his own tears at bay. No one should go through feeling so hopeless, and you were one of the kindest people he knew.

But some of the most kind-hearted people are the meanest people to themselves.

“I’m not here to judge you or try to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. I’m not gonna tell you life is all beauty and grace because it isn’t. It’s okay to be in pain but this is not the way to fix it. I just wanna help you.”

You shook your head. “No one can help me.”

“At least let me try,” he said gently.

“You don’t understand okay? It never stops hurting,” you said, voice cracking slightly. “It always hurts and it's this ache in my chest and I feel like I’m suffocating. No one told me that life was going to hurt, no one fucking told me! They say life isn’t fair, or that life may sometimes bring you down, but they never said that existing would be torture. And I don’t want to keep living if it’s going to hurt this much.”

You saw Bucky’s face fall and you shook your head. “Please just go - You weren’t supposed to see this.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’d rather see you at your worst than not see you at all,” he said. “You don’t have to do this yourself. I know it may seem like you do but you don’t. You never had to, and you never will have to. You have me, us, the team - we’re all here for you but we can’t if you don’t let us. But I’m not leaving you. You’ve been alone for too long already.”

You felt a new lump in your throat, feeling overwhelmed. Trapped between death and your worst nightmare. You never wanted to be vulnerable, you never wanted to hurt anyone with your own pain. But hearing Bucky’s words, seeing the panic in his eyes -

You had already hurt him. And he was right - killing yourself was only going to hurt the team more.

But it just hurt so much.

You had heard it so many times - “think about the impact you’ll have on those you love”, or how “suicide is selfish” and shit - made you feel like a horrible person. Because you did care about everyone, you cared too much. And it wasn’t that you didn’t care about hurting them with your decision - it was just that the pain of staying alive began outweighing the fear of hurting those you loved.

And it was torture.

You wanted to say everything that was on your mind - scream and cry and curse the universe, you wanted to break something, you wanted to be hugged, held, and told it would be okay - you wanted to get everything out.

You didn’t want to be alone anymore.

You’ve been alone for too long already.

You let out a broken sob, knees going weak as Bucky caught you and pulled you into his chest, away from the edge.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said between sobs.

“I know you don’t, I know,” Bucky said, holding you tightly as if he feared you would disappear if he let you go.

Sticks and stones can break your bones but words can never hurt me was utter bullshit. Because the next words that came out of your mouth hurt Bucky more than anything HYDRA had done to him.

“Please just let me die. Why won’t you let me die? I just wanna die, please just let this be over.”

People didn’t realize what depression could do to a person. Someone who was full of life could end up like this. You don’t know what went wrong or when it happened, but you just felt absolutely broken inside. The kind of broken that can’t be fixed.

Bucky felt his heart shatter, tears falling down his own cheeks at how hopeless you had sounded. He had never been overly close with you, but you were always kind to everyone on the team. And the team had failed you by not noticing sooner.

“I’m gonna bring you inside okay?” Bucky said. You didn’t hear him, crying so hard that you couldn’t focus on anything else. He picked you up, carrying you back into the tower. Bucky brought you back to your room, sitting down on your bed with you. He rubbed a hand up and down your back, holding you tightly as he tried to help you calm down.

Exhaustion overtook you, your body becoming worn out from all of the crying and emotions. You never let your guard down like that in front of anyone, and shame began to overtake you.

“I - I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have seen that I’m so so sorry -”

“Don’t,” he started. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No one was supposed to know,” you whispered.

“Why not? What’s so bad about asking for help?”

You paused for a moment, unsure exactly why. “I don’t know - I just feel really weak sometimes?” you said, more of a question to yourself. “Like I know everyone needs help and shit but I didn’t have a reason to need it. It hurts but I don’t know why, I cry when I’m not sad, I just - I’m not in control of myself and I don’t know why and if I can’t explain it to myself then how am I supposed to talk to anyone about it?”

“That makes more sense than you think. All of us on the team, we all go through shit. We see so many horrible things, we’ve been through so many things. We all have something. You have this. It’s okay if you don’t know why you feel the way you do but hurting yourself isn’t going to help anything.”

“I know what it’s like, wanting a way out,” Bucky said and you immediately knew what he was talking about. “Days that I wished Pierce or Rumlolw or whoever would just finish me rather than punish me over and over. It wasn’t that I wanted to die, I just wanted it to stop.”

You looked at him. “I know. But what I didn’t know then was that it would end. I never thought it could ever end or that it would ever end, but it did. And if I had died back then I would’ve died only knowing that pain. I wouldn’t have known that it could get better or that it would. And I’m not saying everything is perfect now because it’s not. But it’s better than it was. Okay?”

You nodded, fresh tears spilling out of your eyes. You knew the torture that Bucky went through, everyone on the team did. It had taken him a long time to speak about it on his own and move through it. But he did.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” you said.

“Talking about it, getting it out is a great start. Talking about it never hurt anyone.” When you seemed a little apprehensive, Bucky added, “I felt alone for so long. Battling these thoughts and memories in my head. They never stopped. But when I started talking about it with someone, and they helped me work through it - I don’t know. It helped me a lot. It wasn’t just me and my thoughts anymore. I wasn’t alone.”

I wasn’t alone

“You don’t have to be alone anymore. I’m not going anywhere. Whether you like it or not I’m gonna be right here with you

These things rarely get better overnight. But maybe with someone else, they could get better a little bit quicker.

You gave a small nod. “Okay.”

---

Taglist: @buckys2thicc @babydaddy-buckybarnes @thatfangirl42 @im-sick-of-failing @sup--ernova @peggycarter-steverogers @bucks-bunny @barnesplums @mardema @abitgryffindorky @freigeistundanderes @strawberrimae @broadwaybabe18 @sokovianheadtilt @daydreaming-lightly @onyourgoddamnleft @arkhamasylumresident

be added to my tag list!

main masterlist

#bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes comfort #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #angst angst angst #angst #marvel fanfic #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #tw suicidal #tw depressive

601 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

Text

Remedy | JJK x Reader | 💜☁️🔞🤖

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Android!AU, Android!Jungkook, AI!Jungkook

Warnings: mentions of war, PTSD, Panic attack, confused!Koo, soft reader, like my god I just wanna put her in my pocket and keep her safe, aka that’s what Koo wants to do, protective!Koo, praise kink, unprotected sex but izz fine Kookoo can’t knock her up anyways, soft sex, it’s very soft ngl, there’s a bird, some sad Koo, kook cries here and there, comfort and rehabilitation

Summary: JJK, Or J-Jungkook097 was a tactical fighter-type Android, used in modern war as a simple weapon and nothing more. Now retired after serious injuries, he has to adjust to modern life outside the war zone or he’ll get scrapped; and that’s where you come in, a rare human being ready to take on that challenge.

"Ah, what a waste, really." A worker says, looking the body of the Android over. "You sure you don't want him?" He asks, and the older worker shakes his head.

"I can't let him around my kids by himself, and I don't want him to snap around my wife either. He's not suited for my home and family." He says, looking the male robot over, before he pulls out his phone. "I think I know someone who just might take him." He says, hurriedly texting, before he gets a call back.

"Huh. Is he factory reset, or still running?" You ask, as Seokjin connects cords to the back of the android's neck.

"We tried to have him reset himself, but there's been problems." He explains. "He told us he did already, but that can't be true since he'd need a command to do it- his model isn't equipped with those AI options. Maybe his memory overloaded and deleted stuff as a survival protocol, we don't know. He's a military model, after all, they didn't let us see his original save data- they just downloaded it and went their way, leaving him for us to dismantle if he couldn't reset him properly for a new system." He says, as you type in some stuff, before viewing the screen you hold in your hand.

"So he's technically still running on his original warzone-system?" You ask Jin, and he nods, sighing. You furrow your brows, and the older male looks over at your tablet to see what you're looking at. "Are you sure? This is.. his AI settings are all set to.. look at this; companionable, friendly, all his settings are set to a companion-android, not a fighter type." You mumble, confused by this.

"Wait no no no that wasn't like that when I last looked at him." Jin says, taking the tablet from you as he types in some stuff. "Huh. This is weird." He says, showing you something. "Look at the protocol."

You do. "Huh." You say, looking at the last line of code.

Last change made by: JJK_OSADMIN

"He changed his own system." You say, and Jin is standing up now.

"I'm taking him with me, I can't let him-" He starts, but you do as well, placing your hands ontop of the Androids chest as if you're guarding him.

"NO! I already signed, I own him- Jin, I have to look into this- and he's set to friendly, he won't get hostile that easily." You try to reassure him, and he sighs after a while, taking his jacket from the chair close by.

"Keep me updated." He says, as he leaves you be.

The Android still sitting limply on your chair.

"Alright JJK. Time to wake up." You say, closing the small panel before you sit in front of him, waiting for his system to run the commands you had typed in before unplugging him. It takes a moment, but there's movement after that; his body slowly starting to sit properly, muscles moving into place, and system running it's diagnostics to detect any change in hard- or software made. It marks down his eyes, the small patches of skin re-made, and that his body-liquids had been replaced.

He feels good.

His eyes open slowly, iris moving and focusing in Various degrees before they meet your form. "Hello." He simply says. "Are you my new owner?" He asks, and you nod, expecting that question. He's not been factory reset, which means even though his memory was scattered, and his system had been changed, he was still aware of everything vital. He nods, before he looks around. "I'm now supposed to run on the companion protocol, correct?" He asks, and you shrug. He's confused, as you suddenly smile at him.

"I don't know." You tell him. "Companion, Individual- what would you like?" You ask, knowing it will bring his current system to it's limits. He's not made to make decisions like that, and you think it's quite endearing to see him suddenly think like that.

"I.. choose?" He mumbles, before he looks at you seriously. "I'd like to be given a small time frame to properly research before I come to a conclusion." He says, and your eyes widen.

You look at him, still friendly as ever. "So, you want to figure out what you want first?" You ask, and he nods, a bit hesitantly. "Okay. Just tell me when you've made up your mind then." You say, and he nods.

"What are my daily tasks?" He asks, and you shrug again. "This is frustrating." He says, and you laugh at that.

It's weird to hear it. But he notes it down as a positive response from you.

"Just don't burn the house down while trying to cook or something." You joke, and he seems to take it seriously.

"Why would I set your home aflame while attempting to cook? I'm not even capable of either task.." He says, and you get up, grinning.

"Don't worry so much. Just properly charge for now- we'll see what's gonna happen as it happens." You say.

He nods.

Jungkook knows that around 75% of fatal accidents occur in a mere household. He also knows, that a regular home is the safest place to live. Yet there he was, on the floor, holding his ears as an attempt to block out the sound of his nightmares. "Jungkook?" You ask, as you turn off the microwave. He's still shaking as you sit down in front of him, close- but not touching, unknowing if he would react to that negatively or not. "Can you hear me?" You ask, and he hesitantly retracts his hands from his ears, letting the sound in again. The beeping of the microwave is now gone, only the soft ticking of your clock on the wall and the buzzing of your fridge remain. "I'm sorry that scared you." You say, smiling apologetically as he shakes his head, face serious. His eyes move frantically as they glow an orange hue, showing his system status.

"No, I should apologize." He says. "I don't know why I displayed this reaction to a mere household object." He admits, and you open the microwave to take out your meal, before sitting down on the kitchen floor. "You shouldn't do that- the tiles are very cold-" He starts, but you wave him off.

"Its fine. Both." You say. "You're probably still confusing some sounds and things with your past use as a warzone model. So it's normal- your system has to adapt. You have to adapt." You say. "We all need some time to heal after what you've been through." You say.

He sits quietly after those words, watching you as he goes through his research on you. You're a very unusual individual, displaying a lot of behaviors he hasn't seen before. You take care of everything with a sense of care that makes him come to the conclusion that you're probably treating the machines and robots like living beings. Such as the oldschool robot-dog that he's seen under your living room table. It's currently charging, but he's seen you interact with it- genuinely displaying happiness and excitement at the very basic AI of the pet-robot that's missing a leg.

Its broken, just like him. But you're taking care of it, just like you take care of him.

You're very caring with him, too. He's seen you search for skin patches that match his color almost perfectly, even though they were more expensive than the usual models found in stores. You apologize for 'hurting' him, even though it's sometimes nescessary to repair him. You ask him about opinions, and let him roam around freely around the house.

You're a very friendly person.

And he, unknown to you, starts to create new files inside his system.

You're not there when he wakes up the next day.

He scans the house for any movement, but there is none that would lead him to the conclusion that you're there. There's no sign of you, and he becomes frantic, suddenly.

If his system would've worked properly like it should have, he would've remembered that you had told him yesterday that you would make a small trip to the local grocery store around the corner. But his system isn't working properly, already displaying several scenarios of you getting hurt, or vanishing, or leaving him alone.

He’d seen it before, so many times, hell; he’d been the reason of so many deaths in the first place and it never bothered him. So why was his internal system going absolute haywire at the mere idea of something happening to you? It was to be expected really- with how fragile you are, mentally and physically, it was bound to happen at some point. So why, if he knew it deep down already, did it make his pulse race and his skin feel weird?

You’d told him to stay home, but there was no way he’d be able to let you out of his sight. Because no, there were no emotions involved; they’d been restricted for him at the beginning after all, he was simply looking out for you. Probably a bug, maybe his system thought you were someone to be protected, a new mission to keep him occupied, that was probably it. It wasn’t because you had been so sweet with him, it wasn’t because of how gently you were in correcting him whenever he did something bad, it wasn’t because you were an absolute divine being in his eyes.

“Kook?” You said, an almost painful huff of breath escaping you when he crashed into you, holding you, his arms squeezing you a bit and his face burying itself into the crook of your neck, every sense drinking you in, saving the proof that you were okay, you were real, you were completely fine. “I-“ you started, and his eyes ripped open, suddenly realizing that he may be hurting you. As if burned he reacted, hands hovering over your shoulders as he looked you over.

“I apologize, I’m so sorry, does it hurt bad-“ he spoke hurriedly, eyes already glazing over with tears he didn’t even knew he could shed. Why did he suddenly feel so upset? His entire system was overloading, tears finally flowing and disrupting his sight so badly that he didn’t see your face anymore; sending him into panic even more. “I’m sorry- I’m-“ he pressed out, but there was nothing working anymore it seemed.

Only a few minutes later did he slowly come back to his senses, first thing he noticed being the way you held his body close, softly speaking to him while you were petting his head. It was such a weird sensation, yet it somehow soothed his mind back, as he realized that you were both on the ground. He was way too heavy, why were you doing that? But when he tried to get up, you held him tightly. “Take a Moment, Jungkook. You’re okay, I’m okay, just a breathe, yeah?” You said, and he nodded. “Let’s go back inside then yeah?” You softly said, and he nodded.

“But you need to buy groceries. We don’t have sufficient stock of-“ he started, but you giggled, the sound something he knew he liked. He didn’t quite know what to think of his newly found preferences for things, but he simply let it happen for now.

Because liking you could never be a mistake, he decided.

He calls out for you one day, his hands holding something you can't see yet. His eyes are wide open, his optics moving around frantically as he calls again. "Creator, please!" He calls, as you finally spot him, walking over as he looks at you with a worried expression. "Please- I don't know what to do. She flew against our window and probably has a concussion- you can help her, right?" He says, and you don't get curious as to why he immediately knows the birds gender and diagnosis; he can scan the tiny body, after all.

"Ah, come into the kitchen." You say, and he follows quickly, still delicately holding the tiny body in his palm, careful not to drop it. "Lets put her in a box and a nice quiet place, yeah? She'll recover on her own probably." You reassure him as he watches you place her in an old box without a lid. "Put her where you found her, okay? That way she'll know her way back easier." You tell him, and he nods, determined, as he walks back towards where he had found the bird.

Jungkook, in a way, was slowly changing nowadays.

He was a curious being, always eager to learn about the most mundane things. True to his purpose he picked up on things very easily; learning how to draw and paint very quickly. He had recently gotten interested in a video game you used to play before your work took over your time- and you loved seeing him have genuine fun with it.

He wasn't doing things anymore because they were asked of him. Or because they were an order.

He was developing hobbies, you'd noticed.

Of course you kept Jin updated about all of these things, and he had been happy to learn that his reboot was going well- joking around that he was glad he hadn't killed you in your sleep yet. And while, at first, you were quite wary of him walking around the apartment, nowadays, you couldn't imagine Jungkook even hurting a fly.

Just like with that tiny bird.

He was a gentle soul, simply a bit clumsy sometimes- apologizing over and over after breaking your alarm clock once, the alarm setting off another one of his 'episodes'- moments of flashbacks he got from his past purpose in war. You had reassured him and had let him watch as you fixed it again, praising him along when he gave you the right tools.

Praise. That was something he seeked as well.

And it wasn't just that he wanted aknowledgement of his own achievements. It was more your attention that he wanted. He wanted to be around you whenever possible, even sometimes dancing around the topic of maybe sharing a bed one day- but he had also been wary of hurting you in your sleep, by rolling over or something alike.

Always so thoughtful.

But he would be able to hold you that day; when you had complained about being tired, he had suggested a nap to you. Instantly taking on that chance, you laid down, rolling over as he was still on the couch with you, already having laid down prior. He was unsure at first where to put his hands, until he decided to just go for the common human way of affection; holding you close.

And he made a note inside his system, that he truly deeply enjoyed the feeling.

He finds you on the couch, crying, after an argument on the phone. That in itself isn't the issue he's having, however- it's the sudden wave of protectiveness rolling over him, drowning his senses as he walks over to you, his orange glowing eyes now scanning your form. "What did he do?" He asks, knowing that it was a former partner of yours, constantly calling you asking for money. It's a bad habit of yours that you can't seem to say no; and now that you did for once, he had bitten your ear off with bad remarks and names you'd rather not repeat. "I'll hurt him, just say the word. He needs to feel the same pain you do-" He's shaking a little, you can see it now; his hands unsure where to place themselves, his eyes watching over you, his breathing a little faster. He starts again, and you put a hand on his shoulder to stop his words.

“Jungkook no, he didn’t hurt me in like, a physical way.” You tried to explain, tears now forgotten as you try to calm the Android on your couch down- still absolutely terrified by your state. “I’m gonna be fine.” You say, but he doesn’t seem convinced. Or is it something else?

“But why am I hurting?” He asks suddenly, and your eyes widen. Well, why was he? Technically he was capable of understanding emotions, that wasn’t shocking. What was confusing to you however was just how he was able to share your pain. And it was obvious he did; the way his eyes glistened and his body shivered, overwhelmed by whatever was happening. “Why does it hurt to see you hurt?” He almost whispers, lost with the situation.

Jungkook was indeed a very weird android- you’ve noticed that long ago already. He was emotional, sometimes moody, and slowly began to develop an actual personality the more he was living with you.

Something his model shouldn’t be capable of.

And maybe that should scare you- maybe that should worry you, maybe you should call up support for answers, but you don’t. You do what’s best for yourself and what you think is best for him in that moment; you lean forward, and wrap your arms around him. And it doesn’t feel at all like an android you’re hugging in that moment, because an android wouldn’t cry with you. An android wouldn’t hold you like this, wouldn’t tremble in your hold like this. It makes it easy to forget that Jungkook isn’t human.

And that in itself is absolutely dangerous.

Somehow, his system had bypassed the blockade to his emotional capacities.

He had noticed it ever since you had been out to restock groceries by yourself, but he had been a little unsure back then. He now knows, for sure, that something had happened.

It was confusing, to say the least.

So many things were somehow suddenly starting to fall into place for him; his favoritism to being close to you, or his system failing whenever you weren't nearby. It also makes sense that he's standing right in front of your bedroom door that night, knocking as you open it. He feels a weird sense of protectiveness seeing you tired and vulnerable like that, and he sits down on the side of the bed where you join him. "Is everything okay?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

Nothing is okay, everything is confusing, and he's unsure what to quite think of all of this. "I feel.. confused. Scared. There's.. fear, in me, boiling up and interrupting my thoughts." He explains, and you nod.

"Feeling is scary, huh?" You ask, as he looks at you.

"How do you do it?" He asks, and you lean your head a bit to the side in question. "There's.. so much of it. How do you.. separate it, keep it in order? Its all over the place, and it's.. so distracting. Its so overwhelming- I can't seem to calm down." He mumbles, serious face turning frustrated as his fingers play with the fabric of his pants.

"We don't." You say. He looks at you for a moment, before you continue. "We just.. let it run through us, I guess. If you don't, it'll make you sick after a while. " You say, and he looks at you.

"But.." He starts. "I fear I might start to display reactions a male android model isn't supposed to openly display." He almost whispers.

"You don't have to openly do it." You reassure him, placing a hand on his shoulder, before moving a bit, body facing him as you open your arms. "It's just me; and I won't judge. You can be whoever you want with me, Jungkook." You say, and he lays down next to you in your arms, momentarily enjoying the quietness and closeness of the affectionate gesture.

"There are no bad feelings, Jungkook." You tell him, and he listens, as he lets them run through him, just like you told him. The sadness, the comfort of your body against his, the.. adoration he feels towards you. Everything, even though it hurts him, physically, something he only ever thought was a artistic way of describing emotions. "There are only wrong actions." You say. "If you feel the need to cry, cry. If you're angry, scream, shout, or find something to channel that into. But if you bottle it up-" You say, "they will lead to mistakes. They will bring pain, and they will bring remorse."

His voice is strained as he talks. "But how do I know when to act on them, and when not to?" He says, and you chuckle.

"You'll learn, Jungkook." You reassure him. "You'll learn."

And he nods against your shoulder, before you can feel him shake a little less, quiet sobs racking through his body until his exhausted body falls asleep to charge.

"Remarkable." Jin comments, as he watches the lines and lines of codes. "He has started to self-code his own system. He's quite literally learning." He says. "All by himself. This is amazing." He says, before he disconnects Jungkook.

"He's still a bit jumpy sometimes, and the microwave is still his worst enemy-" You say, as Jungkook reboots again, eyes slowly focusing as they start to glow again. "But he really is amazing." You say, and Jungkook beams at that, proudly smiling.

It's rare for an android to display such emotions, and he's still often very much void of any clear visual feedback in terms of facial expressions- but he's learning, and he's evolving, growing, in a way. Seokjin closes the panel on the back of Jungkooks neck, as the android stands up to walk closer to you. "Jungkook." Jin says, and the android turns towards the young man. "Do you look after her well?" He asks, and Jungkook nods. "Make sure she stays hydrated during the day, yeah? I highly doubt she's told you she struggles with that." He says, and you whine, as Jungkooks head whips around, eyes scanning your body as he furrows his brows.

"Creator, you need to drink at least 2.5 Liters of water per day. It's vital for your health, which is already very delicate." He says, and you glare at Jin for telling him anything about that.

"I'm fine- and also, please don't call me creator. I'm not anything like that." You say, picking up the walking puppy-robot as Jungkook nods.

"What should I call you then?" He asks, and Jin perks up.

"Call her baby!"

"Jin NO-!"

"No matter what she tells you-" Jin says, holding Jungkooks shoulders as he looks at him seriously. "She likes it." He says, and Jungkook, serious as ever, nods, noting it down, as you groan.

"I hate you both!" You say, and Jungkooks eyes widen.

"You.." He says, voice almost not heard over the laugh of Jin. "Hate me?" He asks, and you immediately regret your words. Jungkook still hasn't figured out sarcasm yet- the entire concept still a little too complicated for his system to grasp, so you walk closer to him, holding his cheeks in your hands.

"No no no, I don't, I could never-" You promise him, as he nods with already glossy eyes. "I just said it as a joke, okay?" You say, and he nods again, biting his lip a little before Jin clears his throat.

"I'll head off now." He says, already putting on his coat. "Thank you for letting me see him- it's really amazing to see him grow like that." He says, and you nod, giving him a short hug before he leaves.

And for some reason, Jungkook feels jealous, watching you so close to him.

Jungkook is in love with you.

He's come to that conclusion all by himself, and he's proud of it, but he's also very unsure about it. He has done a lot of research, scanned every source he could find and validate; and he has found a new interest in activities humans do in relationships to show their partner love and affection. He's not stupid, he knows what intimacy is, and is also aware that he's capable of doing these things with you; but he's also a little unsure, if you'd want that.

After all, there's nothing he could give you.

So one night, he stands in front of your door again, knocking, as you open it.

"Do you think.." He starts. "I'm capable of love?" He asks, and you look at him. "Because I think.. no, I am very sure I love you." He admits, and you get up, but there's no stopping him. "I don't know what it's like for you, but I have observed my newfound emotions, and there's a pattern I've detected; whenever I'm with you, around you, whenever you give me attention, or when you touch me, theres always the same emotions involved; there's this need to take care of you, to keep you safe, to be close." He rambles, and you listen to him as he talks, walking closer to you as his hands find your shoulders. "There's this.. urge, to partake in human intimacy with you. I want to.. show affection the common way, like kissing you, or holding you, things like that." Your cheeks grow a little red. "But I don't know if you are experiencing the same things. My research shows that.. that we could only do these things, if it's the same for you." He says, and then, almost as if hes whispering. "Is it?" He asks, and you struggle to answer. "Do you.. feel the same.?" He asks again, waiting for you to say anything at all.

You stay silent.

Its a sunday when a letter arrives at your home.

When you open it, there's several papers inside; Jungkooks personality tests, official papers that make it possible for him to leave on his own. When he reads them, he's serious, as he watches you smile at him.

"Jungkook, this is great, isn't it?" You say, trying hard to not let it show that you dread letting go of him. "You can finally get an apartment- maybe make something out of your talents, and earn a living. You're free to go now." You say, biting the inside of your cheek as he looks at you with wide eyes.

"But.." He starts, softly. "I'm yours." He states, and you shake your head, swallowing hard.

"Jungkook no.. you're you. No one owns you anymore." You say, and he suddenly shakes his head, throwing the papers in the kitchen sink as he walks towards you, his hands on your shoulders.

He looks at you, serious, as his optics focus on you. "You were the one who told me that every machine should be treated with respect." He states, as you look away from him, his hands shaking you a little as he tries to get your attention back on him. "You said even we androids have souls." He says.

"I did, but-" You start, but he cuts you off.

"And if we do, if we really do-" He speaks, his hands now holding your head, his face drenched in desperation. "Than it belongs to you." He states, and your eyes widen. "It's yours." He repeats. "If having it for myself means I have to leave you, I don't want it."

"I don't.. want to take advantage of you, Jungkook." You say. "You're.. everything is still new to you, I don't want you to regret this-" You start, and he leans down.

"I won't. I've run every possible scan I could, calculated every possible outcome, you know I can't lie to you. I could never regret this.." He says, as he leans down a little. "Can I..?" He asks, and you smile, jumping over your own shadow in a way, as you give him a nod. "I.. can you.. say it?" He asks. "Just once?"

You take his hands in yours, as you lean closer. "I love you, Jungkook." You say, and he gasps, his systems going absolute haywire in the best ways possible. He's again filled with emotions, but this time, they don't hurt; they make him feel light, as if he weighs nothing, they make him close his eyes because suddenly even the slightest light is too bright for his optics.

"Again." He asks, and you comply.

"I love you."

"Again."

"I love you."

He sighs, as his lips finally meet yours.

There's no magical fireworks or anything like that- but Jungkook decides that he doesn't need these things. The feeling itself, the emotions flooding his body are enough to outshine any beauty of reality itself. There's nothing he could ever compare to this, he decides.

He's unsure if Androids have instincts, but in that moment, for the first time, he doesn't care. This seems to be one of those situations to let his emotions run through him, lead him, show him what to do, he decides. His hands roam over your skin, ears catching every sound you make as he moves on autopilot it seems. He's letting go, he's finally doing something he really wants.

And it's all thanks to you- you've given him the chance to be himself.

You've given him the gift of feeling loved, as he finally comes as close to you as lovers ever could; entering you carefully, senses on high alert as he feels your walls around his length. He had been unsure of why pleasure seemed to be described as fun and intimate, but now he can relate to these claims fully. He's so full of love, so overwhelmed, that he simply rests his forehead on your naked shoulder, eyes closed as he simply lets himself feel. He doesn't care about his whines and groans, only focusing on you and your body, on the feedback every muscle sends to his systems, enjoying the way you make him feel.

Its truly magical, he notices.

He doesn't even notice his nor your orgasm at all, but it doesn't matter.

Because at the end of the night, he finally holds you close. Not like before, but this time, as lovers.

"I've given her exactly 0.26 milliliters of a 1 to 1 water and fruit sugar mixture every day at appropriate times." Jungkook seriously tells the vet, as he looks at the bird on the metal table.

"I see. Good job." He praises, before looking at you. "A warzone-type?" He asks, and you nod. "Barely noticable. I have one too, that's how I knew." He comments, before he turns to Jungkook again. "I'd say the bird simply likes your company, Jungkook. She just want's to stay with you That's why she comes back." He explains.

"Like me and Baby?" He asks, and you giggle at the nickname Jungkook keeps using.

"Yes, like you and her." Namjoon says, utterly entertained by you and Jungkook. "So I'd say let her be around. She's perfectly healthy, otherwise." He says, and Jungkook turns around, box in hand, as he smiles.

It's quiet that evening, sun slowly setting and drenching the walls of your shared apartment in a golden glow. Jungkook watches your sleeping form, leaned against him on the couch, as he simply remembers all of the things he's experienced because of you.

He truly is a machine capable of love.

Because you taught him how.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #Android Jungkook #robot Jungkook #bts reactions

994 notes · View notes

themollyjay · 3 years ago

Text

The Myths of Forced Diversity and Virtue Signaling.

In my novel Mail Order Bride, the three main characters are a lesbian and two agendered aliens. In my novel Scatter, the main character is a lesbian, the love interest is a pansexual alien, and the major side characters include a half Cuban, half black Dominican lesbian, a Chinese Dragon, a New York born Jewish Dragon, and a Transgender Welsh Dragon. In my novel The Master of Puppets, the Main Characters are a lesbian shapeshifting reptilian alien cyborg and a half black, half Japanese lesbian. The major side characters include three gender fluid shapeshifting reptilian alien cyborgs, and a pansexual human. In my novel Transistor, the main character is a Trans Lesbian, the love interest is a Half human/Half Angel non-observant Ethiopian Jew, and the major side characters include a Transgender Welsh Dragon (the same one from Scatter), a Transgender woman, a Latino Lesbian, an autistic man, three Middle Eastern Arch Angels, and a hive mind AI with literally hundreds of genders. In my novel The Inevitable singularity, one of the main characters is a lesbian, another has a less clearly defined sexuality but she is definitely in love with the lesbian, and the third is functionally asexual due to a vow of chastity she takes very seriously. The major side characters include a straight guy from a social class similar to the Dalit (commonly known as untouchables) in India, a bisexual woman, a man who is from a race of genetically modified human/frog hybrids, and a woman from a race of genetically modified humans who are bred and sold as indentured sex workers.

Why am I bringing all of this up? Well, first, because it’s kind of cool to look at the list of different characters I’ve created, but mostly because it connects to what I want to talk about today, which should be obvious from the title of the essay. The concepts of ‘forced diversity’ and ‘virtue signaling’.

For those who aren’t familiar with these terms, they’re very closely related concepts. ‘Forced Diversity’ is the idea that characters who aren’t neurotypical cisgendered heterosexual white males are only ever included in a story because of outside pressure from some group (usually called Social Justice Warriors, or The Woke Brigade or something similar) to meet some nebulous political agenda. The caveat to this is, of course, that you can have a women/women present as long as they are hot, don’t make any major contributions to the resolution of the plot, and the hero/heroes get to fuck them before the end of the story. ‘Virtue Signaling’, according to Wikipedia, is a pejorative neologism for the expression of a disingenuous moral viewpoint with the intent of communicating good character.

The basic argument is that Forced Diversity is a form of virtue signaling. That no one would ever write characters who aren’t neurotypical cisgendered heterosexual white males because they want to. They only do it to please the evil SJW’s who are somehow both so powerful that they force everybody to conform to their desires, yet so irrelevant that catering to them dooms any creative project to financial failure via the infamous ‘go woke, go broke’ rule.

What the people who push this idea of Forced Diversity tend to forget is that we exist at a point in time when creators actually have more creative freedom than are any other people in history. Comic writers can throw up a website and publish their work as a webcomic without having to go through Marvel, DC or one of the other big names, or get a place in the dying realm of the news paper comics page. Novelists can self-publish with fairly little upfront costs, musicians can use places like YouTube and Soundcloud to get their work out without having to worry about music publishers. Artists can hock their work on twitter and tumblr and a dozen other places. Podcasts are relatively cheap to make, which has opened up a resurgence in audio dramas. Even the barrier to entry for live action drama is ridiculously low.

So, in a world where creators have more freedom than ever before, why would they choose to people their stories with characters they don’t want there? The answer, of course, is that they wouldn’t. Authors, comic creators, indie film creators and so on aren’t putting diverse characters into their stories because they are being forced to. They’re putting diverse characters into their stories because they want to. Creators want to tell stories about someone other than the generically handsome hypermasculine cisgendered heterosexual white males that have been the protagonists of so many stories over the years that we’ve choking on it. A lot of times, creators want to tell stories about people like themselves. Black creators want to tell stories about the black experience. Queer creators want to tell stories about the queer experience.

I’m an autistic, mentally ill trans feminine abuse survivor. Every day, I get up and I struggle with PTSD, with an eating disorder, with severe body dysmorphia, with anxiety and depression and just the reality of being autistic and transgender. I deal with the fact that the religious community I grew up in views me as an abomination, and genuinely believes I’m going to spend eternity burning in hell. I deal with the fact that people I’ve known for decades, even members of my own family, regularly vote for politician who publicly state that they want to strip me of my civil rights because I’m queer. I’m part of a community that experiences a disproportionately high murder and suicide rate. I’ve spent multiple years of my life deep in suicidal depression, and to this day, I still don’t trust myself around guns.

As a creator, I want to talk about those issues. I want to deal with my life experiences. I want to create characters that embody and express aspects of my lived experience and my day-to-day reality. No one is forcing me to put diversity into my books. I try to include Jewish characters as often as I can because there have been a number of important Jewish people in my life. I include queer people because I’m queer and the vast majority of friends I interact with on a regular basis are queer. I include people with mental illnesses and trauma because I am mentally ill and have trauma, and I know a lot of people with mental illnesses and trauma. My work may be full of fantastical elements, aliens and dragons and angels and superheroes and magic and ultra-high technology and AI’s and talking cats and robot dogs and shape shifters and telepaths and all sorts of other things, but at the core of the stories is my own lived experience, and neurotypical cisgendered heterosexual white males are vanishingly rare in that experience.

Now, I can hear the comments already. The ‘okay, maybe that’s true for individual creators, but what about corporate artwork?’. Maybe not in those exact words, but you get the idea.

The thought here is that corporations are bowing to social pressure to include characters who aren’t neurotypical cisgendered heterosexual white males, and that is somehow bad. But here’s the thing. Corporations are going to chase the dollars. They aren’t bowing to social pressure. There’s no one holding a gun to some executive’s head saying, “You must have this many diversity tokens in every script.” What is happening is that corporations are starting to clue into the fact that people who aren’t neurotypical cisgendered heterosexual white males have money. They are putting black characters in their shows and movies because black people watch shows and spend money on movies. They are putting queer people in shows and movies because queer people watch shows and spend money on movies. They are putting women in shows and movies because women watch shows and spend money on movies.

No one is forcing these companies to do this. They are choosing to do it, the same way individual creators are choosing to do it. In the companies’ cases the choices are made for different reasons. It’s not because they are necessarily passionate about telling stories about a particular experience, but because they want to create art to be consumed by the largest audience possible, which means that they have to expand their audience beyond the neurotypical cisgendered heterosexual white male by including characters from outside of that demographic.

And the reality is, the cries of ‘forced diversity’ and ‘virtue signaling’ almost always come from within that demographic. Note the almost. There are a scattering of individuals from outside that demographic which do subscribe to the ‘forced diversity’ and ‘virtue signaling’ myths, but that is a whole other essay. However, within that demographic, lot of the people who cry about ‘forced diversity’ see media and content as a Zero-Sum game. The more that’s created for other people, the less that is created for them.

In a way, they’re right. There are only so many slots for TV shows each week, there are only so many theaters, only so much space on comic bookshelves and so on. But at the end of the day, its literally impossible for them to consume all the content that’s being produced anyway. So, while there is, theoretically less content for them to consume, as a practical matter it’s a bit like someone who is a meat eater going to a buffet with two hundred items, and then throwing a tantrum because five of the items happen to be vegan.

The worst part is, if they could let go of how wound up they are about the ‘forced diversity’ and ‘virtue signaling’ they could probably enjoy the content that’s produced for people other than them. I mean, I’m a pasty ass white girl, and I loved Black Panther.

So, to wrap out, creators, make what you want to make, and ignore anyone who cries about forced diversity or virtue signaling. And to people who are complaining about forced diversity and virtue signaling, I want to go back to the buffet metaphor. You need to relax. Even if there are a few vegan options on the buffet, you can still get your medium rare steak, or your chicken teriyaki or whatever it is you want. Or, maybe, just maybe, you could give the falafel a try. That shit is delicious.

#writing #original fiction #media #representation #diversity #the war of souls #the hearts of heroes #The Master of Puppets #scatter #transistor #the inevitable singularity #mail order bride

32 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 4 years ago

Note

what do you think Nathan would do if his girl wasnt in the mood for sex... like, nonsexual intimacy with Nathan Bateman,,, what would that he like I wonder

Thanks for the ask, Anon, and sorry it took a while to respond! I’m not sure if this is exactly what you wanted but I hope you like it! :D If you don’t, I’m sure you will at least enjoy the GIF :P

Affection (Nathan Bateman headcanons)

GIF: @yoongifilm

So, I think Nathan has all sorts of non-sexual ways to be intimate. Intimacy can be so many things! Sure, he’s got quite a high sex drive, but if his partner isn’t feeling it he’ll never push. He knows when he can tease a little to win you over and when it’s clearly a hard nope.

Nathan can be reluctant to show affection and emotions, especially in “typical” ways, but if he cares for someone and they engage him in the right way (and put in the work to decipher him) he really opens up (I mean, compared to before, still not a ton :P).

So, what are some of the ways he will get intimate, and spend his time with you?

First of all, Nathan isn’t a small talk kinda guy. He prefers deep, passionate discussion, and he loves the intimacy of a deep conversation with you, over dinner, out on the deck looking at the moon and stars, or curled up somewhere cosy in the house under a blanket. He loves how your mind works differently to his, how you alert him to some of his blindspots, and how you surprise and challenge him. He also loves that you can keep up with him, and he loves that he can express himself fully without judgement. The two of you have had so many lengthy discussion on philosophy, ethics, AI, art, music, humanity, the meaning of life, that movie you watched the other night that you have conflicting theories about... the list goes on. Nathan loves knowledge, and there are so many topics he’s interested in and passionate about (learning about you now being one of them, and when he’s interested in something, he goes all in!).

When the two of you are in your safe bubble of intense conversation, you love the way his dark eyes animate and his hands wave to express himself as he talks to you. You love how when you speak he truly listens, and the way you can see him processing your input and adjusting his theories at a mile a minute. He’s incredibly cultured and well-read (and obviously a genius), and you’re in awe of him, and there’s also something special about him taking the time to share his knowledge with you. You love this kind of intimacy, especially when he gets excited about an idea and you see that rare and happy spark in his usually calculating eyes. It really shows how much he trusts you, even with classified ideas and some of his inner and more personal thoughts. Plus, you’re the only one who gets to share and see this side of Nathan, when he can be so closed-off to everyone else.

Sure, sometimes the discussion will get heated, and often you end up teasing each other and having some banter, but knowing that you also make each other laugh is also a really important part of your relationship. Nathan has a dark, singular sense of humour, which is a little hard to pin down, but now that you know him well, he can always bring a smile to your face. Even better if one of his cheap, crude comments draws that dirty, throaty chuckle from you that he likes so much.

Sometimes it’s physical affection. Whilst physical affection seems more important for you than it is for Nathan, that’s not to say it doesn’t feature. Your favourite thing is the way he has you sit on his lap as he taps away on his laptop, just so he can hold your body close to his and feel the heat and weight of you settle on him while he works. His lips will find your hairline to pepper unconscious kisses onto you at intervals, and every now and again his fingers will lightly and absent-mindedly wander over your skin. Strangely, you enjoy his physical touches a lot when his head is half in his work, as you can simply enjoy it without wondering if he’ll want to escalate things, or whether one or both of you will end up making a comment that will prickle the other. Like this, when you’re both quiet and still and just enjoying this closeness, you can truly appreciate his soft affection, and you can feel how much he likes having you around. Plus, he’s beautiful when he’s concentrating on something, bathed in blue light, his eyes intense one moment and then ever so slightly softening; for example, when you brush the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck, wriggle on his lap, or nuzzle closer to him. You love the little hums he emits, and you’d never point it out to him as you’re not even sure he knows he’s doing it. You feel utterly content, and, even better, you can tell how much it relaxes him too. He always seems to get his best work done when you’re soothing him.

I mean, to be honest, the fact Nathan allows you to be by his side at all, shows how comfortable he is being intimate with you, in ways he would never be with anyone else. He’s let you into his private space fortress, and into all of his secrets. Nathan can be quite introverted, and often needs to retreat from everything , going through intense periods of inspiration where he isolates. People can exhaust him... he’s just not good at peopling. Basically, there aren’t many people he could stand to be around constantly. You two, however, have developed a comfortable way of being, whether you’re working out together, hiking together, cooking dinner together, or working on opposite sides of the room, you have this blissful, comfortable silence with one another. You feel free enough to be yourself and you think he does too.

Nathan does care for you, and the way he notices a lot of little details about you is really touching. Sure, a lot of the times he might be an asshole, self-involved, and completely oblivious when you try to verbalise your feelings, but he’s a lot better at picking-up on a lot of your physical cues (he’s spent a long-time studying body language and he’s very in-tune with your body, which he loves, by the way). He might tend to a small wound that is worse than you let on mid-way through a hike, pulling you aside and carefully, wordlessly patching you up with a stern expression. He might notice you twinging from that niggle in your back and slip up behind you to rub your shoulders as you stir the food in the saucepan. He’s also very conscious of keeping you safe and healthy, and while you may not find love notes all over the house, sometimes the snack he leaves for you on the corner of your desk shows he cares just as much as something sappy would.

He’s not a super snuggly person, and he doesn’t really like lying down and “doing nothing” (even when you try to explain the benefits), but on the ocassions you can get him to stay in bed a little longer, or coax him breifly into a warm bath, he will wrap those strong arms of his around you and hold you close from behind, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder, his beard nuzzling and tickling at you. There is no better feeling than this. You think , over time, that Nathan’s even come to enjoy it more too, as, sometimes, when you fear that you’ve held him in place too long, it turns out he doesn’t want to let go, and will find some excuse to stay just that little bit longer. (The first time you convince him to be little spoon in bed as well, oh my GOD. He almost jumps up immediately and practically flees, however, you’ve noticed him backing himself up to you at night, on the rare ocassions he needs a little affection of his own. You are nice enough not to tease him.)

Also, Nathan’s not super tactile unless sex is involved, but he’ll let you do little things for him, like massage and oil his sore muscles, or run sweet-smelling oils through his beard, or even shave his head for him (the first time was hilarious). You know no-one else would get to do this for him, and so it always feels special to touch him and take care of him like this.

Basically, Nathan likes being around you.

And, on the occassions where he’s not pissing you off, you feel exactly the same.

#Nathan Bateman #Nathan Bateman x reader #nathan bateman headcanon #Ex Machina #Oscar Isaac #Luna answers

152 notes · View notes

deltaengineering · 4 years ago

Text

that was the winter anime 2021 that was

Still not quite ready for a dozen posts about how terrible the likes of Combatants Will Be Dispatched are, sorry. Watch Vivy though, it owns. Here’s some more things that are (mostly) good. As always, worst to best.

Yatogame-chan Kansatsu Nikki S3

Yatogame has long run out of hot Nagoya facts and its ensemble comedy never amounted to much, so now it seems mostly content to just spam more and more wacky character designs. About the only thing that it has left going for it is that 3 minutes a week are more effort to drop than to watch, so I expect them to make a movie next. 4/10

Go-toubun no Hanayome S2

Quints is a weird one. S1 was a barely good enough (i.e., well above average) implementation of the ages old harem chestnut. S2 is actually better at the core of its appeal, since it gives all the characters a sharper profile (things like taking Nino from joke to badass and making Ichika a villain are no mean feat), but it does pay a steep price for it. You see, to deliver a steady drip feed of meaningful character moments it apparently has to rush through the source material at a breakneck pace, which completely wrecks the "story" part of this story and makes every episode seem like a recap. And it still keeps wasting precious time on vestigial nonsense like its framing device and the Kyoto flashback scenario that was already the worst part of S1. But by far the most annoying aspect is its insistence on keeping all the options valid, since it prevents any real progress and makes everything seem arbitrary and pointless. So sure enough, after a season of much ado we still don't end up anywhere — you can't really raise the stakes if all at stake was "who wins" to begin with. It's watchable and even enjoyable scene-for-scene but it's getting harder and harder to call it a solid show overall. 5/10

Skate Leading Stars

I was watching this primarily because I didn't like Yuri on Ice much and wanted to see if something that is a blatant attempt to cash in on it would be better — because while YoI delivers on one aspect (being hella gay), it really is an absolute shambles of a sports show. And sure enough, Skate Leading has none of the auteur appeal of YoI, but it just works much better. In particular I appreciate how it managed to make me care even a little about a cast of assholes, which is a nice contrast to the nauseatingly ingratiating way YoI tries to make you love its characters. Also, Skate Leading is just generally cheap and unambitious, so not susceptible to trying hard and painfully flaming out on the presentation side like YoI is. But at some point you gotta let go of these comparisons and on its own Skate Leading is... just fine, I guess? Competent, mildly engaging, not very memorable. And that's probably where it loses to Yuri on Ice in the end after all, even if I think it's "better". 6/10

Idoly Pride

Idoly Pride sold itself on me with a really good (and hilarious/tragic) first episode that was just too bizarre to ignore — I mean, how can you ignore GHOST IDOL MANAGERS. Well, the majority of the show isn't like that. It's a competent and solid version of the idol franchise show, yes, but it really had more potential than that. Especially midseason, it gets lost in these dozens of characters, and while they're all likeable, it does seem like a waste of a good story just centered on Mana/Kotona/Sakura. By the end it comes back around to the heart of the matter with a Maeda-style sob story, which could be a disaster but seasoned veteran Jukki Hanada makes it work anyway. Overall, there's quite a bit of ridiculous hacky melodrama in this, but quite honestly that's the best part and I wish it would concentrate more on it. The rest is just okay. 6/10

Yuru Camp S2

Yuru Camp is still likely the best pure iyashikei show when it gets down to business. Compared to S1 though, this seems to happen less and less. At its peaks (i.e., basically any quiet moment with Rin) it's at least as good as ever, and there's some good cast additions like Mini-Inuko, but it appears that Yuru Camp simply has run out of things you can do with camping and it fills up the time with other... stuff. This stuff includes the generic school club shenanigans it was never particularly good at, and a gigantic helping of crass consumerism. Yeah, I would say the majority of Yuru Camp is just a straight up infomercial at this point, which itself ranges from the perfectly acceptable (which cute anime isn't about food constantly), to the sketchy (I don't know whether the Izu tourism board cut this production a fat check, but if they didn't, Yuru Camp still gives its best effort to make it seem that way) to the highly irritating – I am aware that camping requires gear and you can't just ignore that, but you most definitely do not require whole arcs dedicated to talking about raising funds for the purposes of acquiring the Lamp of Comfy Happiness at your friendly local Caribou™ either. Not to mention an arc where the aforementioned lame school club does the same, for double irritation. Make no mistake, this show is so riddled with scenes that beg for a solution to embed affiliate links in video files that it makes me wish I was watching something as anticapitalist and underground as Love Live. And irritating really is the last thing a show with this core concept, as stellar as it is at that, can afford to be. Bummer. 6/10

SKOO the Infinity

Skoo has one really huge asset: ADAM, its magnificent villain. It also has one really huge liability: Reki, its not magnificent protagonist. To be more specific, it's very good at anything outrageous, physics-defying and silly, such as most scenes ADAM is in, and quite bad at anything serious, dramatic (in a serious way) and down to earth, such as most scenes Reki is in. So, what's the verdict? Well, the rest of the cast is more ADAM-like, and Reki's co-protagonist Langa is fine as the straight (yeah, right) man. The tedious buddy drama is a comparatively small part of this show, and at least it pays off quite well in the end. Seriously, I was ready to give this a 6, but the final episode is probably the best one of the show, in all of its aspects. That's really not something you see often. Skoo's a great time. Except when it's not. 7/10

Non Non Biyori Nonstop

Speaking of the rare good ending, what about we gave one of those to a slim and inconsequential slice-of-life show? NNB has always been solid, comfy and amusing quality with a couple of standout moments (usually something with Renge), and Nonstop has that plus an ending as conclusive as any show of this type is ever going to have. Besides, it does a lot of things right by focusing on more characters than the central 4 (especially Konomi has great material in S3), it expands the universe just enough to not get stale, and it moves things forward — It's definitely a lot better than the movie, is what I'm saying. Apart from that, well, we're three seasons in, if you have any interest in this you probably don't need me to explain what's good about NNB at this point. Bonus points for being nothing but an ad for the manga. 7/10

Wonder Egg Priority

Oh boy, so here's the big one. Wonder Egg is the rare Meaningful Arthouse Show About Real Issues You Guys, as you might have heard. And well, the long and short of it is that it's a very good show with quite a few glaring problems (besides not actually being finished due to production issues, but what we have is enough of an ending to be able to meaningfully talk about it). In particular, one problem: WEP is, at its core, one of these metaphorical Magical Girl-ish series that are just a thin layer of abstraction over coming-of-age or societal problems. The issue is that "metaphorical" in this case means "literal" and "thin" means "basically nonexistent". This show is not subtle regarding what it's about, at all. This is a double-edged sword — on the positive side, some things really should just be said aloud, and I'm really, really fucking tired of the Ikuhara style of "here's some wacky things, maybe a blog post will eventually tell you how it's actually about the most important thing ever" obfuscation — if it's really so important, just spell it out. On the other hand, there are limits to this and when a second, different Ai appears I don't really need a voiceover line telling me that yep, this show is about parallel universes now. WEP spells out many important things, but it also spells out many things that are implicitly clear or better left vague. Not to mention that with being so obvious up front, the show's tendency to leave figuring out what it's actually saying about it up to the viewer can leave the wrong impression. Again, I settled on the opinion that it's subtle after all where it counts the most, but you might easily get the impression that it pulls its punches (Ikuhara does this the exact other way around — once you figure out what the fuck he's talking about it's abundantly clear what he's saying about it).

In fact, this show is so good at subtle, quiet character moments that it calls into question the need for big huge fighting fantasy layer in the first place, especially since I'm not a fan of the fantasy designs and the fights aren't great. Sure, they look impressive on a technical level (this show is very good looking in general), but the lack of actual impact or rhythm makes me think this is not made by people who are very familiar with action and maybe they should have asked some seasoned shounen veterans for this — or just, you know, not do it. They can (and do) impress with character acting in quiet scenes just the same. And while Ai's character story actually does pay off quite nicely by the end we got, and Momoe and Rika are also handled well, Neiru's backstory is significantly less good, not to mention the whole Frill subplot regarding the show's mythology that they introduced just before (and that's the part to be resolved at a later date), which is a huge can of worms. We'll see how well they handle that, I suppose, but as it is it's a weird and vestigial detour that doesn't add much besides thematic headaches.

But yeah, apart from all that — I like it, a lot. Great character writing in the details, cool looks for the most part, tons of ambition, and a message that I consider to be appropriately handled — for the most part, and for now. Not quite ambitious arthouse anime at its finest, but also not a pretentious disaster like Sarazanmai, Monogatari et al. 8/10

#anime #review #winter2021 #Yatogame-chan Kansatsu Nikki #Go-toubun no Hanayome #Skate Leading Stars #Idoly Pride #Yuru Camp #sk8 the infinity #Non Non Biyori #wonder egg priority

34 notes · View notes

merryfortune · 3 years ago

Text

little potplants

Written for 100ships on Dreamwidth

Prompt #61 Green

Ship: Saviorshipping | Ryoken/Spectre/Yusaku

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Word Count: 2,458

Rating: T

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Polyamory

AN: this is a very silly and dramatic fic about chia pets

Yusaku had finally gotten what he had wanted. What he wanted was Ryoken’s love and companionship. It just so happened that what Yusaku wanted came with one stipulation. One very Spectre shaped stipulation.

Once more, Yusaku gave all his heart, as shackled by chains and scarred as it was, to Ryoken and rather than spurn him, Ryoken accepted it. And once more, Yusaku conveyed the hope that Ryoken had given him all those years ago and it made Ryoken sigh heavily. Though it was a lonely place, there was one more who sided with Ryoken on the side of that chasm than just Yusaku: that person was Spectre, who had pledged all his soul to Ryoken. Ryoken refused to let Spectre slip to the wayside so he gave Yusaku an ultimatum: both of them or neither of them.

Yusaku didn’t have to hesitate. He thought of what Ai had taught him: to love people, not just one person and though Spectre was… quirky, to be polite about it, Yusaku would try not to mind. He recalled his duel with Lightning and the fervour in which spectre had duelled, his clever plays and the peculiar beauty of his aesthetics. Though they had treated each other poorly, at best, in each other’s duel, Spectre had been inspired most gallantly because of Yusaku so, he would try to get along with Spectre, if only for Ryoken.

Thus, if Yusaku and Ryoken were prisoners of fate, then it would not be allowed by Ryoken’s decree that Spectre would be the warden of such a miserable, if romantic, declaration. Yusaku accepted that. He and Spectre, on the surface, did not appear to have much in common but they did have one thing at least: they had both loved Ryoken for ten years.

However, the practice was much different to the theory and to the dramatic highs of this relationship. In practice, it was much, much more awkward.

The mode of the relationship - or relationships, more accurately - was rather distant. Yusaku was not yet ready to move out of his apartment and with both Ryoken and Spectre. It would be inconvenient to him as he had returned to going school and their mansion was hardly close to campus and their cruiser liner was even further away. So, mostly their kisses and conversations were through text messages and video calls. It was probably for the best as they all needed to go slowly in the beginnings of this three-way relationships.

But once in a while, the stars aligned for them to meet up either in the meat space or in the Link VRAINS. It wasn’t as rare as an eclipse but it was easy to miss. Sometimes Ryoken came round to Cafe Nagi for his usual hot dog, sometimes with Spectre in tow, sometimes not.

Other times, they crossed each others’ paths in the digital world. With Ai back, Yusaku wanted to bring back the other Ignis. The Knights of Hanoi were not hindering this mission of Yusaku but out of professionalism and their commitment to atonement, they weren’t helping him either. Ryoken refused to spoil Yusaku like that but Spectre was quietly pleased with the sentiment that one day, possibly one day soon if he was lucky, he might get to meet Earth properly.

But whilst Ryoken consistently made Yusaku feel welcome and warm, with every greeting to every message or happenstance, it made the contrary all the more apparent to Yusaku. Spectre was not quite so open. Ryoken was reserved but in what moments of privacy he and Yusaku had together, they usually began or ended with Ryoken kissing Yusaku on the cheek. Spectre was not nearly as affectionate. Or verbal. And it was increasingly making Yusaku worry about whether or not having what he wanted was worth it.

Perhaps Spectre was not quite as gungho about sharing Ryoken than Ryoken had been willing to bet. Of course, Spectre didn’t utter a single complaint; he followed this order like he did any other order but there was a detached coldness whenever he rubbed shoulders with Yusaku which, whilst infrequent, was still quite noticeable.

So, shyly, Yusaku did ask about it eventually, “Are you sure Spectre likes me?” he asked in a tiny voice.

He rang Ryoken and made sure Ryoken was alone. Ryoken had high - even salacious - hopes for this but Yusaku’s question did catch him off guard. He had somewhat expected it. He had noticed the standoffishness that Spectre emanated whenever it was all three of them or some combination thereof.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Ryoken replied. He sounded very understanding about it but Yusaku still chewed his lip.

“Are you certain?” Yusaku insisted.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Ryoken replied again and Yusaku could hear the patient smile in his voice. “I can prove it.”

“How?” Yusaku asked flatly.

“Spectre and I’ll drop around tomorrow. We can bring groceries around and have dinner together for once, doesn’t that sound nice?” Ryoken mused.

“Yeah, it does…” Yusaku murmured, entirely unconvinced that one evening together would be enough to prove or sway the pendulum that he was worried about.

“We’ll come around about an hour after you would get out of school, does that work for you?” asked Ryoken.

“It does.” Yusaku told him.

“Good, see you then, so… until then, bye, I love you.” Ryoken said.

Yusaku blushed as he replied, “Bye, I love you, too.”

The line went silent and Yusaku was still entirely convinced that Spectre did not like him and would never like him. It was an unusual feeling for him but acknowledging that did little to alleviate the horrible feeling in his guts. It was like the exact opposite of having butterflies in his stomach, it was more like having elephants. It was awful. Spectre was awful, too, but he seemed an entirely different person outside of the Link VRAINS despite very much wearing the same face.

The following day went as smooth as high school could go for anyone. There were assessments and social blunders but nothing particularly gruesome. Yusaku even managed to have some spotty and bland conversations with both Shima and Aoi at different points of the day but he very much wanted to take them over Ryoken and Spectre. He was still very concerned as to how his date this evening would go as he could only imagine it as going disastrously.

He returned home and got ready for his date. Ai was very happy about it. Yusaku hadn’t even wanted to tell Ai about this date or any of the worries that he had over in the knightdom of Hanoi but unfortunately for him, this triadic relationship had become Ai’s favourite to invest in. There wasn’t a single secret Yusaku could keep around Ai anymore and Ai relished in that. He cheered Yusaku on as he put himself through the shower and got into his best clothes. Not that Yusaku needed the encouragement but given how wracked his nerves were, he couldn’t say it wasn’t appreciated.

His hair was still damp when Yusaku heard his doorbell ring. Ai gave him a big thumbs up from his perch on Yusaku’s desk where his duel disc was his throne and Yusaku weakly smiled back. With Yusaku’s laptop nearby, Ai was content to surf the ‘net and binge sketchy cartoons all night and therefore, wouldn’t disrupt or otherwise cause warfare downstairs on his date.

Yusaku smiled shakily as he opened his front door and he immediately noticed that he was out-dressed by both Ryoken and Spectre, “Hey,” he said, “I’m glad the two of you could make it.”

“It's our pleasure.” Ryoken assured him.

He reached out to Yusaku and cupped his hands whilst kissing his cheek. Yusaku smiled but he glanced towards Spectre who was trying his best to blend in with the cityscape behind him. He was holding onto a small box and had a cloth tote bag slung over his shoulders.

Ryoken pulled back and Yusaku stepped aside. He let both his partners inside and he felt a flush of embarrassment regarding his apartment given how basic it was. To say nothing of the great big cracks in the walls and other flaws but neither Ryoken nor Spectre ever said a bad word about it. They merely came inside and made themselves at home.

Spectre placed the tote bag on the counter and Yusaku curiously approached. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was a magic item inside of it to make him and Spectre get along better was inside of it but from just a sneak peak, all Yusaku could really see was the ingredients to make curry. However, they were very premium ingredients.

“How mild or spicy do you like your curry?” Spectre asked since Yusaku had taken interest; he was still holding onto that little box.

“I don’t really care.” Yusaku said, shrugging. “Surprise me.”

“Okay then.” Spectre said and his hand clenched slightly.

Ryoken, who had sat down at the table as Yusaku had meagrely put out a pitcher of cold water and cups, cleared his throat. Spectre made an annoyed noise.

“I have something for you as well.” Spectre said and his expression was difficult to read. “Here.”

He shoved the box into Yusaku’s possession and he blinked.

“For you.” Spectre clarified.

“Okay then.” Yusaku replied and he decided he wanted to sit down to open the box which, now that it was in his hands, looked bigger than before and the contents was emptier than he imagined.

They were all sitting at the table now; Spectre sat with Ryoken, who had an arm around Spectre, cuddly, and Yusaku sat across from both. He had set the box down and began to undo the bow atop of it. It wasn’t gift wrapped, it just so happened to have a fancy, mint green facade to it and was donned with a translucent yellowy-coloured ribbon. He pulled it apart and took the lid off the box.

Spectre watched very intently as Yusaku did this. His stare was stern and in total contrast to how playfully Ryoken watched him. Ryoken, meanwhile, had a smirk like a cat on his face and both made Yusaku feel a grand pressure to like whatever was in the box. He reached in and he wasn’t entirely sure what he pulled out.

There were three of them, though. All made from terracotta but were in the shape of little animals: a cat, a goat, and a hedgehog. They were cute but useless, Yusaku thought as he inspected the goat. He noticed it had a hole in its back and the hole was filled with something dark that he didn’t recognise inside of a crinkly, whitish sachet.

“What are they?” he asked.

“Chia pets.” Ryoken stated simply. “It means he likes you.”

“I don’t really get it…” Yusaku murmured as he set down the goat with a clink in favour of looking at the cat. Though, knowing it was likely seeds inside of those sachets inside of the little terracotta animals did make slightly more sense.

“They represent us.” Spectre murmured. “You’re the cat, I’m the goat, and Ryoken-sama is the hedgehog. When Ryoken-sama and I were little, he gave me some chia pets and I still have them. They are very beloved to me and my collection of plants. Ryoken-sama thought it would be a good idea if I shared that with you and I agreed. Good things come in threes with you two, don’t they?”

“Oh.” Yusaku mumbled and he surprised himself by getting misty eyed at hearing that. The way he was holding onto the cat shaped chia pet changed, it now had a very treasured purpose to it. He couldn’t be flippant with such a precious gift now, could he?

Ryoken smiled, pleased with himself.

“I’m still getting my bearings with all of this. I apologise if we haven’t been on the best of terms but that’s not my intention. But you are important to Ryoken-sama and therefore, important to me. I had a prior infatuation with you but I don’t want that, I want something more stable than that for you since you are very serious about Ryoken-sama and his feelings, otherwise I doubt you would have bothered with making peace with me.” Spectre stiltedly explained.

“Thank you, Spectre, I appreciate your perspective,” Yusaku said, he knew the feeling well himself, he hadn’t wanted to let a similar idealisation of Ryoken get in the way either, he squeezed the little terracotta pot, “I’ll treasure them, I promise to take good care of them.”

“You better,” Spectre pouted, “I’ll be very cross with you if you don’t.”

Yusaku laughed and even Ryoken was amused but he did benevolently offer, “Stop teasing him, Spectre.” he said. “Why don’t we make dinner? I feel like lunch was ages ago now with all the shopping we did to prepare.”

“Fine by me.” Spectre relented.

Yusaku smiled and he petted the head of his cat-shaped chia pet. He was serious about taking good care of it and especially its friends, the goat and the hedgehog. He was looking forward to seeing them grow green and fuzzy with strands upon strands of sprouted chia. He would absolutely put his three, little pot plants in a place of honour, he wasn’t quite sure yet where that place of honour would be but he was going to find it. For now, he was quite drawn to allowing them to live at the end of his dining table as it did get a little bit of sunlight and was close to a source of water but he also wouldn’t mind putting them in his room, close to him always. Decisions, decisions but for now, he would simply get up and offer his assistance in the kitchen.

Yusaku piped up with a rather dreamy expression, “I want to help, too.”

“Good, it would be rude to make your guests do all your cooking after all.” Spectre sniped him.

“Very true.” Ryoken agreed.

Yusaku made an embarrassed noise but got up with both of his partners. It was strange but he could feel that something had shifted. He felt closer to Spectre and ergo, closer to Ryoken as well, given their bond. He hoped that meant for an end of the night with a kiss from them both as well as a delicious dinner that they all helped with. It made him oddly excited and both Ryoken and Spectre noticed and relished that slight adjustment, too. So, with a little bit of luck and care, maybe not too long into the future, they could try a chia pudding for dessert after another dinner at Yusaku’s place given that tonight had gone off without a seeming hitch.

#100ships challenge #saviorshipping #vrains saviorshipping #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #fujiki yusaku #yusaku fujiki #kogami ryoken #ryoken kogami #spectre (vrains)#writing tag

7 notes · View notes

donutloverxo · 4 years ago

Text

Fluffy alphabet

Pairing- Steve Rogers x reader Wordcount- 2.1k

Please do not steal or repost my works. Reblogs are welcome.

Masterlist

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Very affectionate. He loves you a lot and has no qualms about showing it. He shows his affection in the smallest of ways. He notices things and quirks. He makes mental notes of things you like.

If you mentioned liking a certain type of food he’ll try his best to cook it for you. He also likes buying you jewellery. It was common in his time to buy women diamonds. Now that he has the resources to do so, he’ll spoil the shit out of you.

Initially he was shy about pda. He’s a private person, he doesn’t want other people knowing his business. But now he has come to embrace it. He always has to be touching you in some way. Maybe holding your hand or pulling you into him by your waist. It’s also serves as a subtle way to mark his territory.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Steve isn’t too picky. He could be best friends with someone he has very little in common with. But someone with similar life experiences and job is preferred.

It will take a while to reach to that ‘best friend' status. He has a tough time trusting people. But if you are his friend you can depend on him for anything.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves cuddling. It’s one of his favorite things to do. Sometimes he doesn’t want to talk. It’s nice to just stay in silence listening to your steady heartbeat. Maybe smelling or playing with your hair.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He knows he can’t so he convinced himself he doesn’t want to. But the truth is he does want to settle down. If he could he would like to have children, a spouse, a house in the burbs, the whole nine yards.

He’s a clean freak and a minimalistic. Being in the military has straightened him out. He doesn’t like clutter. So if you’re someone who is messy, be ready for some nagging. He can cook some dishes, if he has free time he enjoys doing it and trying out new recipes. Cooking is a form of art and he is an artist.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he had to break up with you it would probably be for your own safety or happiness. He isn’t the kind of person who falls out of love with someone. Nor does believe love is some magical force where one day you’re crazy about each other and the next day you aren’t.

It would kill him to do it. He will sit you down, explain the reasons he can’t be with you, will tell you a million times it’s not you or it’s not your fault. He’ll carry the guilt of breaking your heart with him for a long time.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He’d propose in like six months or as soon as he knows you’re the one for him.

In his time people got engaged very quickly. He has faced death many times. He wants to make the most of his time with you.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s a sensitive soul. More so about other people’s feelings than his own. He rarely gets angry. Usually he’s patient and kind, albeit somewhat distant with everyone.

With you he’s a gentle giant. He knows he’s stronger than you, sometimes he uses it to his advantage, but mostly he makes sure to never hurt you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs. He hugs everyone very often, he isn’t shy about accepting them either. He will get a bit awkward if a stranger hugs him.

His hugs are warm and protective. They feel like home to you. He’s very large it’s hard to get your arms around him. But he feels tender and soft. He would subconsciously flex his muscles just to subtly show off.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It depends. He’ll probably wait a while till he is absolutely sure you feel the same way.

He will say it in other ways. Like spending quality time with you, listening to your ramble, holding the door for you and helping you in anyway he can.

If he knows you feel the same way and he could see a future with you he’ll say it. But it will probably be a spur of the moment thing. He sucks at lying.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He does get jealous. More than he’d like to admit. He trusts you completely, it has more to do with his own insecurities.

What if he’s not modern enough for you? What if his emotional baggage is dragging you down? Would you be better off without him?

He’ll try to conceal them by acting manly. He’ll puff his chest out, flex his biceps to intimidate anyone who dared flirt with you. Which doesn’t happen often. No one is messing with Captain Americas girl. There are times Tony or Bucky would do it just to mess with him.

He’ll show you how he’s the only one for you when you both get home.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

His kisses are soft and passionate. Sometimes he likes a simple innocent make out that doesn’t lead to anything. He likes kissing you literally every where.

Especially your forehead. You’re so short and cute he likes to sneak a few pecks just because he feels like it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Steve is kind if awkward around children. Especially toddlers. He has no idea how to entertain them. What can you even talk about with a kid?

He’ll always be a bit awkward around them until he has kids of his own.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s up at the crack of dawn sometimes sooner. He’ll go on a run, pick up a coffee or a muffin for you, shower and cuddle a bit with you till he has to leave for work.

He doesn’t like staying idle. But weekend mornings spent in bed are loved by you both.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Most nights he likes to cuddle and talk or make love. You almost always fall asleep before him. He likes to listen to you soft breathes and steady heartbeat as it lulls him to sleep.

More often than not, especially after a mission, he’ll wake up from a nightmare, sometimes waking you up as well. Even if you are patient and kind to him he’ll feel guilty about being an inconvenience.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

It takes him a long time to open up. He’ll tell you the basic things almost everyone knows, but he’ll only reveal the real Steve Rogers after he feels safe with you.

He reveals them slowly. Not because he doesn’t trust you. He doesn’t want you to worry about him

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Extremely patient. He may never even yell at you. He believes that’s no way to treat a lady (not unless you do something stupid like make an AI that turns on you)

It’s almost frustrating how calm and collected he usually is. You would be yelling hoping to get a reaction but he'd give you none.

If he’s really feeling antsy he’ll take it out on a few punching bags. But never ever at you. The last thing he wants is to be like his father.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?)

He remembers every single detail. He has a photographic memory it isn’t easy for him to forget things. He makes a note of your likes and dislikes. This knowledge comes in handy when he wants to buy you a gift.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment in your relationship is when you first said 'I love you’ to him. Someone like you loving him was hard to wrap his head around. He swoons every time you say it.

Close second is when you said yes to marrying him.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is very protective and possessive of you. He likes taking care of you. He never felt he would be capable of taking care of someone or protecting someone the way he can now.

He could never bear the thought of losing you. Your affiliation with him does make you a target. He makes sure that you are safe and happy at all times the best he can.

Steve doesn’t care too much about being protected. He doesn’t think of himself as someone needing it. He does appreciate it when you do. Like when you defend him to anyone teasing him or insulting. He still prefers to be the one who does the protecting.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Listen Steve Rogers gives his 100% to everything he does. That includes working out, cooking, being an avenger, saving the world, fucking you and courting you. He gives his all to all your dates and has yet to forget a single anniversary or birthday.

He’s a classic romantic. Flowers, champagne, chocolates, long walks, candle lit dinners are some of his favorite things. He does try to change it up a bit which is how he ends up obsessed with Pinterest. Making you little handmade and intimate gifts.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Steve is a perfect human™. He has close to none bad habits. Something that might be considered bad is his obsession with cleanliness. If you ever drape your coat on the couch instead of hanging it on the hanger he’ll give you a look of disapproval or ever so gently nag you about it.

He is also humble to the point where it’s annoying. He fails to see just how amazing and exceptional he is.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s only concerned about his looks when it comes to you. If he ever tries to dress up or wear a set of pants that make his ass look snug it’s to impress you.

Usually he does look presentable and takes care of his hygiene. He has a smart casual albeit minimalistic wardrobe. But it isn’t something he thinks a lot about.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes and no. He understands it’s not healthy for him to be completely dependent on you for happiness. He has plenty of strong friendships and a family.

But he misses you a lot when you’re not with him. If something happened to you, he might move on but he’ll never stop loving you. A piece of him will always belong to you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Steve thinks about you a lot. He does little things for you that you wouldn’t even notice. He doesn’t do them because he expects something in return from you, it’s purely out of love. He’s intuitive he will know if you’re having a bad day. He will do anything to make it better for you. He’ll cook your favorite meal, give you a foot rub, run you a bath.

You are his muse and his inspiration for a lot of his artwork. Being in love, feeling so passionately for someone helps him in seeing the world in a different perspective.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Steve is pretty tolerant. He might roll his eyes at some things like hedonism, selfishness, crude jokes but there are very few things he’ll outright hate.

Something he doesn’t like is cruelty. Whether you’re cruel to others or to him. He also isn’t a fan of disloyalty and lies. Even if you had a good reason it will hurt him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Steve likes to sleep on his back. He will not move an inch throughout the night. He rarely ever snores. He doesn’t like the cold so your apartment is almost always hot.

He has a fixed bedtime, if there’s no work you both have to be in bed by then. No excuses. Well if you bat your lashes and ask nicely maybe he’ll listen.

It takes him a while to fall asleep. If you’re with him to snuggle he sleeps well, his nightmares stay at bay, your warmth gives him comfort.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers alphabet

332 notes · View notes

starglossie · 4 years ago

Text

how can we deny what we feel?

summary: where cherry is joe’s date for a dinner party because he lost a beef. and when joe gives himself a chance to truly consider how beautiful cherry is. and how they nearly get into a brawl in the middle of the dance floor, because their love language has and always will be: fight first, fall in love later. rating: e for explicit! wc: 4.7k! pairing: matchablossom !!! CAN BE READ ON AO3 + under the read more below!

“Excuse me?”

Kojiro anticipated the dirty, crumpled napkin, hurled his way and dodges just in time. Kaoru’s eyes widen and his eyebrows are crunched so hard Kojiro’s convinced they’ll connect by sheer force alone. His cheeks are red. His lips are pulled upwards into a snarl. Nothing out of the ordinary.

“Just for a weekend,” Kojiro continued while Kaoru looked for a fork. Or a knife. Probably both. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Once! One time! That was the promise!” Kaoru hisses and Kojiro is so close to losing it.

“Okay, well, you know what they say about the second time being the charm… Don’t give me that look!” he takes a purposeful step back as Kaoru leans forward to grab him by the collar. “Listen. It’s for the restaurant. It’ll only be for a few hours. And the food will be delicious.”

Kaoru’s expression barely shifted, but it’s one Kojiro noticed. A little acquiescence to the idea of good food- free, good food. Something Kaoru could never deny. Kojiro grinned. Kaoru’s shoulders visibly relaxed, though he was still on edge. That’s also nothing surprising.

“... You think I’m so cheap to be bought by food, you brainless musclehead gorilla ?”

Kojiro’s eyebrow twitched. “I absolutely think you are, gearhead . Anyways, you lost the beef.” he crossed his arms over his chest, smug. “I’m just entertaining your back and forth at this point. You know the rules.”

If there was a bet made during a beef, the losing party had to abide by the terms the winning party set out. Kojiro knew this. Kaoru definitely knew this. He was just being stubborn. And really, if the roles were reversed, Kojiro would be doing the same thing. But they’re not. So he’s enjoying every second of it.

“I hate you,” Kaoru mumbled, stabbing his fork into his steak Kojiro made.

“The feeling’s mutual. So 8 o’clock. Be ready. And don’t bring Carla.”

“Huh? That’s not a part of the deal! Carla comes or I don’t come.”

“Do you have separation anxiety? She’ll be fine. She told me she needs space from you to spread her AI wings and fly.”

“She would never speak to you or say anything like that. Carla comes .”

Kaoru’s stubbornness was going to be the death of Kojiro. He was sure of it. “Alright. Alright she comes. But she’s on mute .”

Kaoru opened his mouth and then promptly slammed it shut. “Fine. And one more thing.” he said, though it was much quieter than his earlier words.

Kojiro raised an eyebrow. Waiting for Kaoru to speak. When he does, it's like he hadn’t spoken at all. “Huh? Speak up! Stop acting like you’re all shy!”

“I-” Kaoru’s frustration was apparent. Kojiro braced himself for a hit but what came instead was… not expected. “No repeats. Of last time. Strictly platonic.”

Ah. And maybe, at this point, a physical punch would have been better. Kojiro can’t tell why his stomach curled into a horrible twist or the sharp twinge that followed. Can’t explain why his brain suddenly went into overdrive about why and what does he mean as if he wasn’t aware of what Kaoru was referring to.

He remembered the heat. And nails down his back. And the cramped fit of the closet. And being on his knees.

Was this feeling, the weird heat up his neck, disappointment?

Better play it off.

“Cool with me,” Kojiro shrugged it off. He picked up Kaoru’s plate and placed it in the sink. “We go. We mingle. We leave. In and out. Easy peasy.”

He carefully watched Kaoru’s expression and body. How the man’s shoulders still seemed taut with tension. How his frown deepened even further and his eyebrows were bunched so tightly, Kojiro feared they’d magically meld together and form one, pink unibrow. Kaoru wouldn’t look at him. But Kojiro caught the red tinge on the tip of his ears, and held back the urge to snort.

Sometimes he was so easy to read.

“In and out,” Kaoru finally said, agreeing.

“Easy peasy,” Kojiro repeated, smiling.

Dinner parties were never really Kojiro’s things.

Sure, they were fun. Especially when he got a few drinks in his system. And socializing was never a problem for him. Well, until he socialized a little too much. To the point where two people were fighting to see who went home with him. Cliche, horribly so, and happened a lot more than he would think it would-now that he gave it a little bit of thought. But then again, he had two hands-so why fight?

That normally worked.

As he adjusted his tie, he looked towards the suit hanging by his mirror. He really hated suits. They felt tight around his shoulders and arms always . He was a big guy, with a lot of muscle. He’d rather wear loose jackets, or no shirt at all.

Really, this was all for formalities. A lot of investors and restaurant connoisseurs came to these kind of fancy smancy events. He’d rather be out skating. Out feeling the wind in his hair and the open road before him. Rather than feeling the gel in his hair, and the sparkling lights of chandeliers and designer jewelry. Had to be done, though. For the sake of business. If he wanted to keep his place afloat, he had to show up to these things at least once. Get his face out there. Make nice with people. Laugh at the right jokes. And then steal a platter of shrimp cocktails before heading home.

And then there was Kaoru.

This wasn’t the first time he’s done this. Gone with Kaoru to one of these events. The first time it happened spurred from a late night, drunken conversation. When Kojiro had gotten a look at Kaoru's back profile, with his hair over his shoulder and his elegant stance-proud, sure, strong. And immediately thought about how Kaoru would look on his arm, done up in a different way from his usual attire.

“Be my date for this dinner party,” Kojiro slurred, his smile coming across nice and easy.

Kaoru frowned, confused. “Huh? Why?”

“Because you’re beautiful,” Kojiro had said aloud. Faster than he could catch them. But the words were already out in the air. And really, Kojiro was never one to go back on something once he’s said it.

He watched as Kaoru’s face exploded in a brilliant shade of red. All the way to the tip of his ears. Kaoru didn’t speak. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Instead, he had reached for his glass. Downed whatever whiskey was left. And quietly, but fiercely, responded-

“Fine.”

That same night ended with them in a closet. Also drunk, but this time a little better dressed than Kojiro in one of his casual t-shirts and Kaoru in his casual kimono. How did they get into the closet? Kojiro wasn’t sure.

But did they have fun in the closet?

As much as Kojiro remembered, they did.

“No repeats,” he said to himself in the mirror. He wasn’t upset. Not really. Hooking up with Kaoru was not on the top of his list. But it did reside on his list. If he had to have a moment of honesty with himself as he stared at the reflection in his mirror.

He slipped into his suit the same time as the door to his room opened. He caught Kaoru first in the mirror, and turned around immediately to get the full view.

His hair was loose. Not in its usual high pony or low pony. But free. Kojiro had rarely seen Kaoru’s hair out since high school. He normally kept it tied up because he hated how it got into his hair. He didn’t have his glasses on. And he wore a brilliant purple kimono.

Kojiro’s throat went dry.

“What?” Kaoru fidgeted and Kojiro realized he must have been staring a little too intently.

Kojiro beamed, from ear to ear. “You really know how to sweep a guy off his feet. I should have known your pride wouldn’t let you come dressed anything less than your best.”

“Well, I have a rep to uphold,” Kaoru sniffed.

“Right right. The purple is actually a good choice. It brings out my eyes.”

“You’re the most annoying individual to ever grace the earth.”

“Thanks, I try. Ready to go?”

They arrived fashionably late.

Kojiro never liked to be on time for things. Kaoru liked to be on time for things a little too much.

So yes, maybe Kojiro did take an extra five minutes for them to do a shot of courage before leaving his place just to waste time and get on Kaoru’s nerves.

Absolutely worth it.

“You wanna drink?”

“No,” Kaoru said, folding his arms across his chest.

Kojiro shrugged and reached out for a champagne flute by a passing waiter. “Suit yourself. You’re gonna regret it later, though.” Kojiro could never get through this party without being a little drunk. Just for funsies.

“We already drank before we came here.”

“One shot is not drinking.”

Kaoru rolled his eyes and stalked off towards the buffet table. Kojiro watched as he left, gaze intent. Kaoru was usually a bundle of spikes and clenched jaws. However, when he was walking through the crowd Kojiro couldn’t deny the elegance and grace Kaoru swiftly adopted.

Shoulders high, gaze straight and resolute, and striding with purpose. Kojiro carefully sipped his drink watching as the crowd of sparkling individuals quite literally parted for Kaoru.

“He sure knows how to command a room,” Kojiro murmured. He scanned the crowd to see if any of the usual, important connections were there. He had at least three people he needed to follow up with about inventory, marketing, and promotions. So with another sip he slipped into the crowd himself to mingle.

Mingling was easy. It didn’t take much for Kojiro to find what a person loved to hear and then, repeat those very same words like silver and silk to get what he needed. Conversation was never something Kojiro struggled to cultivate. Once he painted on his smile and adjusted his body language as open, friendly, and warm-the rest was quite easy.

“Are you by yourself tonight, Kojiro?” Hana was one of Kojiro’s important connections in the restaurant business. She was beautiful and quick witted. Any restaurant in Okinawa who wanted to stay on top of the latest trends knew it was best to have her on their side then against them. She was, quite literally, the pulse of their social circle.

Kojiro’s eyes cut through the crowd slowly. He found Kaoru at the buffet table chatting with a man Kojiro didn’t recognize. Kaoru was engaging pleasantly. No doubt putting on his fake, charming persona to engage the man with.

“Hmmm,” he debated what to answer. He could say no. And see if that would lead to Hana offering to go off, just the two of them. They’ve hooked up before at one of these functions. And she was always a fun company to be around.

But then he saw the man talking to Kaoru lean forward. Whispering something in Kaoru’s ear that made him flinch.

“I am,” he said to her, smiling. And then took off to where Kaoru was.

Kaoru caught Kojiro’s gaze as Kojiro was walking over, and Kojiro immediately caught the tense aura surrounding Kaoru like a cloak.

“Kaoru,” Kojiro made his voice syrupy sweet, slipping an arm around Kaoru’s waist. Kaoru leaned in, pressed to his side. A part of Kojiro’s brain said this is right . He shut that part down. “Sorry to make you wait. I was catching up with some friends.” His gaze cut to the man who looked much smaller up close now that Kojiro had a good look at him. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, don’t mind me!” the man smiled shakily. “I was just complimenting your date’s attire, as all.”

“Did you have to lean so closely to do it?” Kojiro asked. “Surely you can respect another’s need for space and leave them be, no?”

“Kojiro,” Kaoru muttered. He placed a warning hand on Kojiro’s chest and then flashed the man a dazzling smile. “Don’t mind my date. He’s overprotective as all. Though I’d appreciate that if we ever have the unfortunate experience of crossing paths again, you don’t try to touch me so inappropriately in such a casual manner.” when Kaoru opened his eyes again they were sharp, and cutting. “Now begone.”

The man scurried off into the crowd without another word.

Kojiro watched him go, laughing. “Man he can haul ass.” More seriously, he asked. “Are you okay?”

Kaoru yanked himself out of Kojiro’s arm. Kojiro looked down at the now empty space and frowned. “Fine. Did you have to do all that? I was capable of handling it myself.”

“You looked uncomfortable. What sort of date would I be if I didn’t come to your defense?”

“Oh please. Don’t act like you’re a gentleman when you were off flirting with some woman.”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb! The woman who was hanging off your arm!”

“Hana?” Kojiro asked, slowly. “We weren’t flirting.” then a beat later, “Yet.”

Kaoru scowled, muttering a curse Kojiro couldn’t hear but definitely felt. A waiter with a tray of champagne glasses walked by. Kaoru waved them over and grabbed two glasses. He downed them with scary efficiency and placed the empty glasses on the table. “I’m going out for some air. Don’t follow me.”

Kojiro could have let Kaoru walk away from him again, tonight. But something in him wanted Kaoru to stay. Maybe this was another one of his urges to push the boundaries between them. Or, maybe, it was something within Kojiro that still felt irked having seen that man get a little too close to Kaoru.

Whatever it was, Kojiro reached out and grabbed Kaoru’s wrist.

Kaoru turned back, glowering at their hands. “What?”

“Let’s dance,” Kojiro responded, smiling.

Kaoru balked, “Excuse me?”

The music turned into a slow tempo and Kojiro just continued grinning as he led Kaoru to the dance floor. “Dance. You and me. Do something a little different from getting incredibly wasted, stuffing ourselves with food, and then passing out in the Uber home.”

“That sounds much better than this idea,” Kaoru said but he still allowed himself to be pulled. And when Kojiro looked back, he could see a blush coating his cheeks.

Cute , Kojiro thought. There were people on the dance floor, some chatting and some dancing with their dates. Kojiro wouldn’t call himself a dancer. But he’d been to enough of these events to know a few basic steps. He placed one hand on Kaoru’s waist, and grasped one of Kaoru’s hands in his own.

“I’ll lead,” he smirked.

“I’m going to step on all ten of your toes,” Kaoru smirked back.

Kojiro threw his head back and laughed as he led them through the dance. “Please do! I’d love to see you try, metalhead.”

“Metalhead? I’ll have you know per your request I haven’t even unmuted Carla, you monkey in a monkey suit.”

“Monkey in a monkey suit? Is that the best you can come up with?”

That earned him a stomp but it was well deserved. The two continued bickering back and forth through the dance, much to the amusement of anyone who caught them. It was truly comical. Kojiro turned them around and around while Kaoru barked insults and Kojiro threw back as good as he got.

When the song ended, the two’s foreheads were pressed together. Their hands were now interlocked in a fierce embrace as they snarled at each other.

“I didn’t even want to come! Meanwhile you basically blackmail me to come-”

“-You lost the beef, idiot!”

“Shut up! Don’t talk about that here! You brainless meathead! And then you have the audacity to flirt with someone woman when I’m your date!”

“Oh so I’m just supposed to turn away people who come talk to me while my date is getting himself felt up by somebody else?”

“You act like I wanted that to happen! I was ten seconds from ripping all his fingers off!”

“If you weren’t gonna do it, I was!”

“All you do is talk and talk and talk! That’s why I can never take you seriously. Because all the talk you speak is just empty flattery to everyone and everyone! You drive me crazy .”

“You’re the only person I never just chat to! You’re the only person I’m ever serious with!” God when did his voice get so loud. And when did their faces get so close. And when did Kaoru’s face get so slack, so shocked. What did he say? What had he said?

The weight of his words finally crashed. He felt like he’d just wiped out on the track.

Kaoru leaned back. “What…” he said slowly, carefully choosing his words. “Do you mean by that?”

They’re on the dance floor in stupid, fancy attire. Amongst stupid, fancy people that Kojiro had to woo and smooze once every few months. Yet it’s in this moment where the chandelier is above them and the violin strings are softly building up momentum and Kojiro is filling the champagne in his veins and he can’t help but think. Think that in Kaoru’s rage he is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

At this moment, he could run. He could put on his pretty words and regulate Kaoru to everyone else, like he said. With pretty words and pretty lies and shallow promises.

But it was Kaoru.

And Kaoru was always different.

“It means. It means, I like you, Kaoru.”

The music stops. Kojiro’s feel his entire face heat up. Kaoru’s face turned a brilliant red and he’s so beautiful. God he’s so beautiful. Why had Kojiro never allowed himself to see that? To allow himself the ability to gaze upon the most beautiful man he’s ever had the pleasure of calling his best friend.

Why has he not kissed him yet?

Kojiro pulled Kaoru back, until his arms were around his waist. Their foreheads touched again, and he could feel Kaoru’s heart pounding. And Kojiro’s remembering when they were drunk in the closet. And how he wished they weren’t in the closet, but back at his place. Getting to know each other. Getting to learn each other’s bodies. Getting to slowly fall in love with the parts of themselves they’ve always known, but now they could experience one another in a whole different fashion.

He wanted that so badly he could taste it.

“I like you,” he said, softer. He closed his eyes. And he’s not sure if his pulse quickens out of fear or exhilaration.

“Kojiro,” Kaoru’s voice sounded strained. Kojiro opened his eyes, Kaoru’s face was still bright. His eyes shining with something Kojiro couldn’t quite place. But then Kaoru’s leaning forward, and their lips almost touch. “Take me home.”

If Kojiro didn’t know Kaoru so well, he would have taken those words as rejection. But Kaoru was gripping his shoulders tightly. Biting his bottom lip. Glancing down at Kojiro’s lips and then back again.

“Yeah. Yeah ok.”

“Is this alright?” Kojiro asked, as he placed a soft kiss on Kaoru’s neck.

Kaoru gripped Kojiro’s shoulders, “You keep asking me that. I’ll punch you if I don’t like it.”

Kojiro frowned, lifting himself up. “One, don’t do that. And two, you said you didn’t want any repeats. I want to respect that. So tell me, now. If you want to keep going, or if you don’t.”

He’d respect it. Even if every nerve in his body was screaming to be inside Kaoru and feel him down to the wire, if this wasn’t something Kaoru wanted to do tonight-he’d respect that. No questions asked.

Kaoru glanced up at him, and Kojiro got such a glance of how wrecked Kaoru looked already. His lips were red and glistening from their earlier kissing. His pupils were blown and his kimono was slipping off his shoulders. The sight was… so much. It made Kojiro’s cock ache tightly against his pants.

“Thank you,” Kaoru said softly. Then his hand moved to cup Kojiro’s hardening cock through his pants. He stroked a few times. Kojiro moaned, head dropping forward and hips shallowly moving into the touch. “I appreciate your concern, but.” his thumb traced the tip of Kojiro’s cock. He was too good with this. Moving his hand up and down Kojiro’s hardening erection like he was making brush strokes. “I want this.”

“Are you sure?” Kojiro gritted his teeth as Kaoru gave him a particular squeeze.

“Yes, you idiot.” Kaoru wrapped his legs around Kojiro’s waist, pulling him close. He leaned up so his lips were near Kojiro’s ears, “I want you to fuck me. Make a mess of me. I want to feel it tomorrow morning.”

Kojiro didn’t really need to be told twice. He stripped out of his shirt and jacket until he was just in his pants. Where he unzipped himself and freed his cock. He reached over to the bedside table where his lube and condoms were.

Kaoru started stroking Kojiro’s cock with his. Kojiro groaned, dropping his head to Kaoru’s shoulder as Kaoru worked them slowly. “You’re far too fucking good at this.”

“I know,” Kaoru replied, smug.

Kojiro snorted and kissed him again. “Hold on, stop.” Kaoru did as he was told, and Kojiro spread Kaoru’s legs wide as he kissed down the slope of his body. Kaoru’s cock was leaking, strained against his belly. Kojiro pressed a kiss to the head. His own cock twitching as Kaoru sighed in pleasure.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about sucking Kaoru off again. He never thought the opportunity would arise. Now that it had, he wasted no time swallowing Kaoru to the base.

Kaoru’s hips raised off the bed. He moaned Kojiro loudly as his hands fell to Kojiro’s hair. Kojiro hummed, his tongue running along the underside of Kaoru’s cock. He pulled off with a pop after a few sucks. With the lube, he poured some over his fingers and began to slowly work open Kaoru. There was some resistance at first, but he made sure to go slow. First, with one finger, and then another, and finally-a third.

He watched as Kaoru became an utter mess. Writhing and cursing, an arm flown over to cover his face. Kojiro kissed the inside of Kaoru’s thighs, feeling them tremor and shake. He kissed up and up until he was at the base of Kaoru’s cock. As he thrust his fingers forward, working him open, he licked Kaoru from the base to the tip. He suckled on the head, swirling his tongue around and into the slit of Kaoru’s cock.

“Fucking Kojiro , stop being a tease.” Kaoru pushed at Kojiro’s shoulder. “In me. Put it in me.”

Kojiro slipped Kaoru out of his mouth as he removed his fingers. He reached for the condom on the bed and ripped open the packet with his mouth before rolling the condom onto his cock. “I should have known even in bed you’d be super demanding.”

“Yeah yeah,” Kaoru rolled his eyes and pulled Kojiro closer. “I should have known even with my dick in my mouth you can’t shut up.”

“It’s part of my charm,” Kojiro grinned as their tongues met, a sloppy intertwining as he lined himself at Kaoru’s entrance. He pulled back so he could guide himself slowly, feeling Kaoru’s walls stretching to his size. He sank until he was inside, fully. Groaning at the heat. Kaoru was so tight . He was so tight. Kojiro had never felt something sweet. Nothing better.

He held onto Kaoru’s thighs, lifting them up so Kaoru was angled slightly off the bed. “You okay?” he asked, voice tight.

Kaoru exhaled slowly, nodding. “Go slow. I’ll adjust.”

Kojiro obeyed. He eased himself out slowly and slid back in just the same. Kaoru’s soft gasp at the thrust sent a warm jolt down Kojiro’s spine. Their pace was gentle, as he took the time to work Kaoru open, in and out. Kojiro went in for another kiss. Their lips wet, and tongues sliding against each other.

Kojiro’s fingers curled around Kaoru’s hips, and he snapped forward with a roll that had Kaoru gasping his name into Kojiro’s mouth for him to swallow.

“Faster, there.” Kaoru commanded.

“Yes,” Kojiro snapped his hips forward again while he picked up the pace.

Kojiro threw his head back and moaned. Kojiro dipped forward, sweat coating his brow, to kiss and mark up and leave Kaoru’s neck a red mess.

“You feel so good,” Kojiro moaned while he fucked Kaoru. “So so good. I’ve thought of this. Of me fucking you. Me kissing you. Like this. You feel better than expected.”

“Shut up. Shut up, Kojiro. You’re so cheesy-Ah!” Kojiro’s next thrust hit the right spot, it seemed. Once found Kojiro angled his hips so he could hit that pressure inside of Kaoru again and again.

Kaoru couldn’t speak. He could only moan and let loose curses as they continued. Their hips meeting each other for every thrust. Until Kaoru reached down between their bodies. Grasped his dick in his hands, and jerked himself off shakily.

Kojiro grabbed his hand and placed it above Kaoru’s head. Kaoru growled but Kojiro leaned forward to kiss him. “No. Let me make you cum. I want to.” Kojiro released Kaoru’s hands and leaned forward, pressing his weight on Kaoru, and rolled his hips with deep, quick thrusts. Kaoru grasped onto Kojiro’s back, nails digging into his skin. Every word out of his mouth was of pleasures, moans and gasps and moans and gasps until his breath started hitching.

He rolled his hips frantically, cock leaking and hard and pressed between their stomachs. With a few more thrusts, Kojiro felt Kaoru’s walls tighten around his cock and felt wetness spurt between their bodies.

“ Kojiro ,” Kaoru groaned as he came. Kojiro fucked him through his orgasm, holding him tightly as he felt his own come upon him. He groaned Kaoru’s name into his neck, fingers gripping tightly upon Kaoru’s back. His whole body shook with the force of his orgasm.

After a few moments to catch his breath, Kojiro pulled out of Kaoru and rolled over. He took off the condom, tied it, and deposited it by the trash can by his bed.

He turned back onto the bed. Laying on his side as Kaoru laid spread out, his entire skin a soft pink. His kimono ruffled. His hair all over the place. And beautiful. Utterly beautiful.

Kaoru looked up at him, as Kojiro looked down, and their lips naturally found their way to one another. They kissed lazily, with no rush to start another round and no rush to kick each other out.

Kojiro leaned back, pulling Kaoru to lay on top of him. Kaoru frowned but he didn’t make any moves to get away.

“You’re sweaty.”

“So are you, Kaoru.”

“You’re sweatier.”

“Oh my God can we just bask in the afterglow of some bomb sex, please?”

“You like me.” Kaoru said instead.

Kojiro had the audacity to look embarrassed, “You’re … I-yes?”

“Since when?”

“Uh… honestly? Probably since, high school.”

‘Since high school !”

“Listen! I just recently realized tonight I like you, ok! I’m just saying that I’ve probably always liked you since back then and didn’t know until… now.”

“God, you’re an idiot.” Kaoru huffed and dropped his head onto Kojiro’s chest.

Kojiro chuckled, running his hands through Kaoru’s hair. “That I am. Yo, you gonna tell me you like me too or did you just use me for sex?”

He felt Kaoru’s mouth move against his chest, but whatever he said was too quiet for Kojiro to hear.

“Huh? What was that? Can you speak up please?”

“I said I like you.”

“What was that?”

“I SAID I LIKE YOU, YOU IDIOT. YOU BUFFOON. YOU OVERSEXED GORILLA.”

Kojiro’s laughter rang through his room as he flipped them over and kissed Kaoru all over his face.

“Since high school too, right?” Kojiro asked, laughing between the kisses.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“ Knew it. ” Kojiro was grinning ear to ear. He smiled down at Kaoru’s scowling face that soon transformed into a small smile in return. Kaoru wrapped his arms around Kojiro’s neck and pulled him in for a sloppier kiss, all tongue and saliva.

“Congrats. Now fuck me again.”

“ Anything for you, Kaoru.”

#my fics #matchablossom #sk8 joe #sk8 cherry #sk8 #sk8 the infinity #read on ao3 #also on ao3

25 notes · View notes

justletmeplayminecraft · 4 years ago

Text

guess who’s back at it again in @martuzzio‘s space outlaw au! this is a bit of a shift from my last two, so please heed the warnings below! if you want to know details about any, or think any others should be added, then drop me a message. it’s also over 7k, buckle in.

usual psa, may not be completely canon to the au. i pick & choose depending on what’ll be most fun, and its up to marzo what (if anything) she wants to keep! enjoy it as it is!! (aka wels has longer hair in this because i have a crayon licence that says ‘i do what i want’.)

featuring: mumbo has a meeting on his home planet that goes wrong in an impressive way, wels has a sword, an evil tech guy villain, hurt/comfort, me being annoyed i have to use grunts instead of minions because i only see yellow things & good ol’ last minute rescues

warnings: violence, electrocution, mind control esq device (not used on anyone), injury, attempted kidnapping, brief imprisonment, pseudo-science lmao

"So I'm on babysitting duty." Wels is an intimidating sight in his suit, sword glinting in his hand. Mumbo finishes slicking back his hair, trying to get the parting perfect before he replies.

"You're not that much older than me." Compared to some of the hermits, at least. Nobody can come close to Xisuma, anyway. Wels laughs, checking his sword over.

"I feel it." He tilts his head towards Mumbo with half a smile. "I'm pretty much ancient next to you." Mumbo scoffs, flicking through his design folder again. Thankfully, this is more of an exchange than a pitch. Mumbo's improved, certainly, but he'd argue his reputation does most of the work for him. It's the main, if not only, reason he's back here.

"You're going to look it if you bring an actual sword to a tech meeting." Wels shifts his hold, the sword pointed towards Mumbo in an instant, narrowly avoiding the glass screens he's holding.

"Think you can stop me?" He teases, one eyebrow raised. There's the hint of a smirk on his face. Mumbo breathes out, relieved he's not offended him by accident.

"Didn't say you couldn't, did I?" Wels's shoulders rise with a smile, his sword coming to rest at his side.

"Smart decision." Wels picks up his weapon holster. A brief meeting or not, they all know better than to leave the ship without protection. Iskall refused to let Mumbo go until he checked each of his weapons, cleaning them thoroughly. His suit has been examined too, even if he's leaving the helmet on their ship. He knows the air is breathable here and it'll probably help if he's recognised. Wels has his helmet under his arm, waiting to put it on. "You ready to go?" He asks, holding his hand out. Mumbo nods, patting his folder and weapons.

"Got everything I need," he replies. Wels gives him a last smile before putting his helmet on, checking its secure then nodding.

"Let's go get you to that meeting, then." Mumbo glances around the shuttle, making sure everything's shut down. It locks with a satisfying beep. "You know where we're going?"

"Think I remember my way around." Wels nods, gesturing for Mumbo to go ahead with a bow. It's only slightly sarcastic. Mumbo makes sure to roll his eyes as he takes the lead.

He'll admit, it's nice being back on his home planet. Stepping out of the hangar bay to concrete roads and pavements. White buildings reach into the sky, entwined with greenery and tunnelling the layered streets. It's not often he gets to come back here. Plus, he might get to prove himself and his designs. If this works out, it's a massive step for him.

With all its familiarity, it's still strange being somewhere so busy. Cars and buses float down the roads, and they pass by people as they walk. Families with kids, couples, mostly people in the business wear Mumbo recognises. The pair get a few second glances as they make their way through the city. Wearing the suits is a bit of a statement. In truth, Mumbo didn’t want the stress of changing for the meeting. He would've spent forever worrying about what to put on and how he wants to present himself. Whereas Wels would probably live in his suit if given the chance. They're more common in a city like this than in other places, but hardly a frequent sight in public. Being part of the Hermits might also garner some looks, but they should be fine here. It's friendly territory.

Wels sticks close to Mumbo either way. Even without seeing his expression, he can tell how carefully Wels examines their environment. Mumbo feels safer having him here. He wouldn't want to come on his own. The building they're looking for is at the edge of the town centre, a tall office building with an angled top. The same pristine white as the rest of them.

"This it?" Wels asks, crossing his arms. He's looking up at the building.

"Yep."

"Fancy." Mumbo can't help a soft noise of amusement. Inside is a wide lobby, with a fountain of all things at the back of the room, cushioned seats and plants filling the space. It's also strangely empty. The front desk is obvious enough. A hologram of a receptionist appears when they get closer.

"Hello and welcome to Dukes Crown Limited!" The voice is like a parody of a person. Mumbo's never liked the voice of AIs. The closer they are to human, the more uncanny they become. "What is your reason for visiting?" The wide smile never changes. Mumbo shivers.

"Mumbo Jumbo, I'm here for a meeting." The hologram remains still before jumping to life, pointing to a lift at the back of the lobby.

"Your meeting is on the thirty fifth floor, office A. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Mumbo shakes his head quickly, "Nope, that's all, thank you very much."

He's already turned towards the lift as the AI replies, "You're welcome. Enjoy your visit!" Wels joins him as he walks, leaning in close.

"Are they always that creepy?" He whispers, sneaking looks around the empty lobby.

"Unfortunately." He's never been completely comfortable with them. It's all superficial programming. You give something the ability to think and then limit it. "Lobbies aren't usually this empty either. Must be a busy day." Wels hums, sounding unconvinced. He follows Mumbo into the lift anyway, waiting in the corner. It takes Mumbo a second to find the right button. He tries to block out the cheery music and focus on his breathing.

"I don't like this," Wels states what they've both been thinking. Mumbo stares at the door of the lift. He breathes in deep, holding it before letting it out slowly.

"We can't exactly back out now," he says. He's come this far, taken the entire ship off course for this meeting. He knows Xisuma would understand. Gut instincts are there for a reason, as they've all learnt. But Mumbo wants something out of this. Maybe it's selfish.

"We could." Wels gestures to the panel. "We press the button, go straight back down and walk out of that fancy front door."

"You can if you want to," Mumbo tells him. Wels turns to him and Mumbo wishes he could see his expression.

"And leave you alone?" Wels asks. "Absolutely not." Mumbo smiles slightly, watching the number on the display climb until they reach their floor, accompanied by the same artificial voice of the receptionist. Wels steps out first, Mumbo following soon after.

Their suits click against the floors, white plastic beneath them. The walls are halftone between white and blue. It's not particularly appealing, but these offices rarely are. It was a lucky turn of events he ended up how he did. How boring his life would be if he actually made it into one of these.

"Is this the one?" Wels points to a closed door, one of very few on this floor. Mumbo checks the symbol on the side, nodding.

"Looks like it." Wels stands beside Mumbo, resting his hand near his sword.

"You ready to go in?" He asks. Mumbo quickly checks the time, sighing. It doesn't look like he can stall. This whole set-up has brought his anxiety back full force. He knows what he's doing, though. He's practised with the others, he knows not to devalue himself. He's going to be great.

"As I'll ever be." Wels lifts his shoulders, offering an incline of his head. Mumbo smiles back. He raises his hand to knock on the door, but it slides open before he can. Wels makes a quiet noise of surprise behind him. Mumbo shakes his head, stepping into the office.

It's emptier than he's used to. Two bookshelves against the walls, lined with books that look like they've never been read. There's a shutter blocking out the window, leaving the main light the bulb overhead. Towards the back of the room is the desk. It's empty. Mumbo looks to Wels, who's hovering inside the door.

"Do you think we're early?" Wels doesn't get the chance to reply. There's a loud bang from nearby. Mumbo spins in the direction of it just as his suit lets out a warning beep and the light flickers out. When he tries the display it won't turn on. Oh no. "Wels-"

He cuts himself off when he sees him fighting with his helmet, fingers missing the release latch. Mumbo drops his folder, rushing forward and batting Wels's fingers away so he can get to it himself. Wels fights him momentarily but settles when the helmet clicks and Mumbo can slide it off his head.

Fear isn't a stranger to Mumbo. He's certainly feeling it right now. But he's never seen it on Wels before. His eyes are wide until he scrunches them shut, his breath coming out in short puffs and his hair stuck to his forehead. He reaches his hand out and Mumbo offers his own to hold. His heartbeat picks up considerably as he glances around the room. The door has closed and Mumbo has no idea what this is.

"Wels?" He tries, when his breathing has calmed. "You with me?" Wels nods, taking a deep breath in and squeezing Mumbo's hand.

"Helmet stopped getting input." Mumbo winces, glad he didn't wear his.

"It's supposed to release when that happens-" He shakes his head "-I'll look into it. We've got worse problems." Wels blinks hard, standing straight and taking in the situation. His face is still red, but his composure has returned. He finally releases Mumbo's hand.

"The door's shut." Mumbo nods. He examines it, considering the model in his head. The keypad won't even activate when he tries it.

"This model is supposed to open when it loses power," he says, thinking out loud, "It's a safety feature."

"So someone's changed it on purpose."

"Appears so." Mumbo isn't going to think about those implications. "What even was that? Nothing's working." Wels's face is grim, trying to pry the shutters open.

"Localised EMP, I think. Probably only affected this floor."

"Well." Mumbo glares at the door, deciding to pry the keypad open. "This is just wonderful."

"Note to self." Wels ducks under the desk. "Trust our gut instinct." Mumbo makes a noise in response, sorting through the wires in the panel. He knows how these doors work but it doesn't seem to be getting any power. There's no amount of re-ordering wires that can change that. He tries his suit again but gets the same result. They need to get out of here and contact the others.

"Found anything?" He asks when Wels appears again.

Wels shakes his head, "Nothing. I was hoping for an escape latch or... Something." He makes a frustrated noise. "Somebody wants us trapped in here and I'm not going to let that happen."

"Well, I don't think there's any way I can open the door. Unless we can lever it." Wels looks it up and down.

"Right. Last resort." Wels pulls out his sword, launching it at the thin parting in the door. "Please don't break," he murmurs under his breath. In a sharp motion he angles his sword, managing to pry the door open by a crack. "Mumbo!" Mumbo squeezes his elbow in, pushing the door until the gap is wide enough for them both to fit through. Thankfully the only resistance is the weight, rather than any mechanism.

"I doubt the lift will be safe," Mumbo says, checking down the hallways. Wels has his sword by his side, holding it ready. He's left his helmet behind, same as Mumbo's files. An annoying loss, but he's not fighting the door again for them. "Did we pass stairs?"

"I think so." Wels leans on one foot to look down the corridor. "Are those signs?"

Both of their heads jolt in the direction of footsteps down the corridor. There's nowhere obvious to hide. Wels pushes Mumbo into the small alcove by the lift, standing in front of him with his sword to attention. Mumbo can't see his face but his shoulders are set in a tense line. Mumbo reaches for his gun, although he has a feeling it won't work. Neither of them breathe as the footsteps grow closer.

It's two men, dressed in dark clothing. Neither of them look in their direction, focused on the door they should be behind. There's no hint of movement before Wels launches. He butts one of the men on the head with the hilt of his sword, swinging as he drops to knock the gun from the other's hand. He follows it up with a strike against his head with the flat of the blade. Less deadly, but it leaves them incapacitated enough. Wels kicks their guns in Mumbo's direction.

"Anything work?" He asks, pushing the hair from his face back with a scowl. Mumbo scoops the weapons up. His own gun isn't working, so that's great. He plays with the other two, attempting to activate them. He only gets 'access denied' on a small screen.

"It's fingerprint locked. How absurd." He twists the gun to see the underside. "I could rewire it." Wels shakes his head.

"That would take too long," he says, "Our only advantage right now is that they don't know we're free. The blast will have knocked out the cameras on this floor." He nudges one of the grunts with his toe. "When these two don't report in or... Whatever, they'll realise."

"At least we know where the stairs are." Wels smiles, stepping over the grunt. He keeps his sword ready by his side, only slightly bloody.

"That's the spirit." Mumbo exaggerates his sigh and gets an amused puff in response. Wels gestures for him to continue with his hand, both of them making for the stairs.

"What's actually the plan here?" Mumbo asks as they reach the stairwell, thankfully open. Wels leans over the barrier to check below them. "Do we even have one?"

"Nope," Wels pops the 'p'. Well, nothing new there. "Stay behind me."

"Planning to."

He tries to tread lightly down the stairs, difficult with his suit. Wels nearly dances down them, feet ghosting over each step. He stops them both by holding a hand up. Mumbo only stumbles down one stair as he tries to stop. Wels turns, mouthing and pointing them both up around the bend. They press themselves around the stairwell, listening as a few people enter. Mumbo can see Wels relax when they go down away from them.

It's a tense wait for the voices to disappear, punctuated by another door sliding shut. The two wait for a few seconds more.

"This must still operate as an office building," Mumbo murmurs, keeping his voice low.

"It's a big building to rent out just for an elaborate trap." Wels continues down. "Is there usually a back door?" Mumbo hums, trying to think to his adolescence.

"There should be," he replies. Usually into an alleyway, for taking out the trash or something.

"Well, it's that or the front door." Wels checks ahead as they go down another twist. "Which would be a statement."

"They set an EMP off and tried to trap us in a room, Wels."

"A statement," Wels repeats, pausing to give Mumbo a cheeky smile. Mumbo shakes his head. It reminds him of the situation they're actually in. He has no idea what the motivation is for this. At least it's not Convex, he hopes. Variety is the spice of life or whatever. He trusts Wels when he says it was an EMP. There's something very wrong with this situation. Mumbo's a big fan of run first, ask questions later.

They encounter trouble as they reach the ground floor. Wels holds a hand out in front of Mumbo when they hear shouting, both of them stilling. Wels leans forward, listening carefully.

"Head up slightly," he murmurs, pushing Mumbo in the right direction. Mumbo hides around the corner, peering so he can just see Wels. He's pressed against the wall, his breathing measured. He's looking at the ground as the sounds come closer, voices and footsteps.

The door opens and Wels pounces. He kicks behind the knees of the first person, hitting his head with his sword. Without hesitation, he twists to the next, jabbing backwards and knocking them into the person behind. Mumbo is barely breathing, watching Wels's precise movements. Wels is quick to knock their weapons away, hair falling into his face.

A noise behind Mumbo startles him to his feet, raising his arms as he spots more grunts rushing down the stairs. He glances to Wels, finding he's mostly dispatched the ones by him.

"Wels, we need to go!" He calls, rushing down the stairs. Wels drops the last one with a jab to the spine, his shoulders rising with heavy breaths.

"Okay, that's a lot." He grabs Mumbo, narrowly pulling him out the way of a shot. His hand stays around his wrist until they're into the corridor, releasing him to sprint ahead. Mumbo gulps, breaking into a run. He can hear the crackle of electricity hitting the wall beside him, far too close for comfort.

He pauses when he hears a crack of electricity coming from up ahead, calling out a panicked, "Wels!" Wels stops, swerving to the side, but not fast enough to avoid the rope that flies out from a side door. It wraps around his torso, sparking with electricity and pinning his arms to his side. Wels falls with a pained shout. He lands hard on his arm, gasping out for breath. The sword falls too far from Mumbo's reach. He instinctively moves to help until his head kicks in, hearing the shouting around him.

"Hands up!" Mumbo looks at Wels on the ground, his chest heaving as the wire (he can now see that's what it is) crackles again. Wels shifts in place, letting out a weak cry at the pulse as his body tenses. Maybe it's a good thing his hair hides the pained expression Mumbo knows must be there. He raises his hands, allowing one of the grunts to grab his arms and pull them behind his back. Something solid and heavy is secured around his wrists. He almost loses his footing at a sharp tug, turning to see the bloody gash on the guy's head. Maybe Wels should have hit him harder.

A figure enters the corridor that Mumbo is more familiar with.

"Mr. Dukes-" he keeps his voice steady, masking the fear churning in his stomach "-This is an interesting meeting." Internally, he curses the guy out. He only has to take one look at Wels for his morals to disappear. But he knows they're at a disadvantage, and he knows that won't help anything.

"Mumbo," Dukes nods very slightly to acknowledge him before nudging Wels with a pointed toe. Wels groans, trying to curl up and Mumbo bristles. "This would've been much easier if you stayed put." Dukes waves at the grunts. "Take him to an office. I'll move them at nightfall, figure out what to do with the extra." There's a few affirmatives before Mumbo's being dragged away, battling every urge to break free or to call for Wels or something. It feels like he's failed somehow, but he doesn't fight. He doesn't know what to do.

Mumbo paces the room they left him in. He's tried everything he can get his restrained hands on, checked the walls, checked the door, the little furniture there is to check. He can't find a way out of here. In the tiniest crack at the base of the shutters, he can tell it's ticking into evening. They've got time. If they're moved to a second location they're absolutely boned.

There's no telling how long it'll take the others to realise something's gone wrong. First it'll be when they don't get an update after the meeting, but when did they expect the meeting to end? Then they'll send a message but how long until they worry about the lack of reply? A deep part of Mumbo is gnawing at him with the knowledge they might mobilise too late. The Hermits stop at nothing to protect their own, but they need to find them first. It's too easy to disappear.

With any luck, Dukes was only after Mumbo. Wels was extra, wasn't he? Turn him into the right governmental body for a quick profit, easy. Just as easy as it would be for the others to break him out. It's himself he's not sure about. He was the target of all this. For his designs, he's guessing. He slumps against the wall, watching the sunlight creeping under the shutter. He pushes away thoughts of what might happen to him. He's sure he'll find out soon enough.

The light outside gradually fades in colour. Mumbo paces the room several more times until it becomes a strong amber, travelling across the carpeted floor. If he stays still for too long he thinks his worry might consume him. He tries his suit a few times as a last ditch effort, knocking it against the wall. He can't even get annoyed at the work it'll take to fix it. He might not get the chance.

He's mid-pace when the door slides open. Two grunts grab his arms, holding him in place in the centre of the room. He scowls, trying to shift their grip. Dukes follows soon after them.

"It has," he replies, falling into the professional tone. "Do I get to know why we couldn't just have a peaceful, ordinary meeting?" Dukes strides forward, his hands clasped neatly behind him back. He's only an inch taller than Mumbo, but he makes him feel tiny.

"It's been some time, hasn't it, Mumbo?" Should've been longer, apparently. Being rejected for that internship destroyed him, back then. The constant comments, the reminders he'd never make anything of himself. All of it. He was so excited to finally prove himself and look at what that gets him.

"You have no idea how valuable you are, do you?"

Mumbo tilts his head side to side, "About ten million, actually, last time I checked." Dukes laughs.

"One of the smartest minds of a generation," Dukes says, "And still unsurprisingly foolish." Mumbo frowns. It's an effort not to reply. "See, I've been working on a project but I need more brains to push it further. It's nearly perfect and once finished, it could change the scene as we know it." Mumbo doesn't know it. He doesn't want to know it.

"That could've been done through negotiation," he replies, "I'm available to hire."

"I don't think I could pay you to work on this." Dukes holds something in front of him. A collar of some kind. There's sharp, thin spikes around the back, on the inside. Mumbo cringes at the sight. "This has been my brainchild for some time. This collar, combined with a remote, taps directly into the wearer's spinal cord. It can stop or send its own signals, allowing control of body parts the wearer can't use, better health management-"

"You want to use it to control people," Mumbo interrupts, the reality sinking in. He glares at Duke, hiding his terror as anger.

"Smart boy."

"You're right. I won't work on it." He edges back into the hands holding him. Dukes laughs again. The sound makes Mumbo feel dizzy.

"You wouldn't just be working on it," Dukes tells him, in the same tone someone would use to talk to a child. "You'd be one of the first test subjects." Mumbo's eyes widen. He pushes back, thrashing to loosen the grip on his arms.

"No- no, no, no-" He's completely broken and he knows it. No going back now. "Get away from me. Take that thing away. You're sick." Dukes stands there, ignoring Mumbo's panic. He opens an antiseptic cloth, running it over the metal points.

"I imagine it'll hurt going in," he explains like he's reading a book. "But we made sure it'll do as little damage as possible. It's getting it out that could mess things up a little."

"You can't do this. You won't get away with it."

"I think I already have-" Dukes steps forward, holding the collar up, "What will you do, call for help? Oh, wait-" A smile with too many teeth "-You won't be able to." Mumbo pushes himself back, drawing in as a last ditch effort to protect himself. He shuts his eyes and hears the crackle of electricity.

Then the hands around his arms release.

He tumbles to the floor, opening his eyes to see a suit he recognises stunning the second grunt. False turns to him, her expression hidden by her helmet.

"Mumbo-" It sounds as if a heavy weight is lifted when she says it. She drops to her knees, gently checking him over. "Are you okay, did he hurt you?"

Mumbo shakes his head, "No I'm... Alright. I'm okay." He's... It might take a minute to believe it. She sighs, resting her glove on his cheek.

"We were so worried. We just-" She shakes her head, standing and turning to the incapacitated people around her. "Let me sort this out first."

"No, please do." Safer than making the same mistake they did. She pulls out her sets of cuffs, securing the grunts first.

"We got a distress signal from Wels. Apparently it's set for if his suit fails. Then we couldn't find either of you- X went near ballistic," she explains as she works. Mumbo listens, her voice a grounding anchor. "We came as soon as we could."

"Who's here?" Mumbo asks. He knows they couldn't fit the entire ship.

"Iskall, Etho and I. Doc's on back up."

"Is Stress there?" False nods. "Wels might be injured. He seemed bad when he went down." She finishes checking the bindings, raising her arm.

"False reporting," she pauses for an unheard response, "I've got Mumbo. No injuries but he says Wels might be. Tell Stress to be prepared." Mumbo wishes he could hear the conversation, but False lowers her arm afterwards. She hesitates when she sees the collar, picking it up cautiously.

"What even is this?" She asks, helmet tilting to Mumbo. He shudders, drawing his legs closer to himself.

"It's a... controlling device. It accesses your spinal cord to send nerve signals. Lets you control someone." False looks at it for a long second, then to Mumbo.

"He was about to put this on you." She sounds breathless. Mumbo looks into his lap, can't find the words to reply. He might break down if he does. "I'm getting those cuffs off and getting you out. What are the authorities like here?" She leaves the collar to the side.

"They're not awful," Mumbo explains as she works on the restraints around his wrists, "But someone with money and influence like him... He'd probably find a way out of it." She makes a frustrated noise just as the restraints fall away. Mumbo's muscles ache in relief. He rubs at the soreness around his wrists.

"We'll see what we can do," she decides. She offers him a hand. He stumbles forward, kept upright by her firm grip. "Who is he? I'm assuming that's the leader." She dips her head in Dukes' direction. Mumbo sighs.

"Tristan Dukes. Everyone in the city knows him. Well-known for his innovation and inventions, donates regularly to charities. Most inspiring inventors want to work for him." Mumbo gives his wrist a last squeeze. "I tried going for an internship here. It didn't go well. Probably good I didn't get it, if this is what he's doing behind the scenes."

"If I wasn't afraid of waking him up then I'd kick him harder." Mumbo can't help an amused snort. His legs are still trembling.

"That's not very do-gooder of you, False." She laughs, bumping his side gently enough it doesn't knock him over.

"What X doesn't know can't hurt him." He breathes a little easier at her light tone. She reaches for her belt, placing a stun gun in his hands. "You ready to get out of here?" Mumbo glances to the door. He'd like to see Wels, get proof he's okay. But he'll only get in the way. The three of them are a well-oiled machine on missions like this.

"Absolutely." It's a cause for celebration when he steps out of that office prison on its own. "How did you guys get here?" It would be a bit obvious to have a crew in their full suits through the city.

False makes a high-pitched "Well." She shrugs, sounding not very sheepish. "We took one of the ships. Then we may've borrowed a few cars."

"Borrowed," Mumbo repeats. She holds her hands up.

"Hey, we fully plan on returning them this time!" Mumbo shakes his head, following behind her. She raises her arm. "False again-" Pause "-Yeah, I'm getting Mumbo out. Left three people in the office. Floor forty, office B. The one in the fancy clothes is the owner of the company, Tristan Dukes. I want a background check on him. Dig up all the dirt you can find. He's not going free." She hums, glancing at Mumbo. "Okay. Keep me updated."

"Who was that?" Mumbo asks. False starts moving towards the exit, giving her gun a quick check over.

"Ren," she replies. "He's doing comms from home. We should be all set." And isn't he glad to hear that?

Their escape goes better than his and Wels did. Any grunts on the staircase have already been dealt with, tied up in neat batches for the police to find. False still scopes out each corner, all business as they move through. It's the side door they leave through. The cool air in the alley nearly makes him sag in relief. The night is almost on them. She leads him through a network of alleys, head twitching towards any sounds she hears. The distant traffic is a quiet undertone. She approaches a parked car, knocking on the window of it.

The door swings open, Doc inviting Mumbo into the seat. Mumbo near collapses into it, shutting his eyes and leaning against the headrest.

"Mumbo," Doc greets. Mumbo cracks his eyes open, giving a tired smile. "It sure is good to see you."

"Yeah. Yeah, I could say the same." He's ready to sink into this seat forever. Doc rubs his shoulder and Mumbo allows himself to be pushed.

"What are you doing?" Doc looks to False, who's bouncing in place. Mumbo follows his gaze, listening along.

"I'm going to head back in," she tells him. "Can I trust you've got Mumbo?"

"Won't let him out of my sight." Mumbo rolls his eyes, slouching further into the seat.

"I am sitting right here." False laughs, patting his head.

"I'll keep in touch. Stay safe."

Doc nods, "You too." She offers a quick nod, closing the door and darting back into the alleys. Doc turns to Mumbo. He's smiling, but Mumbo can tell concern when he sees it. "How are you doing, man?" Mumbo sighs.

"Exhausted," he admits. "I don't think I've processed it properly at all."

"Understandable," Doc replies. "What even happened in there?" Mumbo groans, rearranging himself to rest against Doc's side. The suits aren't comfortable, but it helps to know someone is behind him after being alone in that room. He sticks his feet on the seat so his legs shield him from the door.

"Meeting could've gone better." Doc laughs deeply at that one, careful not to knock Mumbo off.

"Well, that's one way to put it." Mumbo smiles to himself, resting his eyes.

"Got into the office, EMP went off, broke out the room, nearly got out but got caught, rescued by False." He isn't going to mention the collar, or his history with Dukes. He'll save reliving that for the official report. "Think that covers it."

"Yikes."

"Yep."

"Guess it's not just Cub and Scar we gotta worry about, huh." Mumbo presses his hands to his face with a noise of displeasure.

"I don't even want to think about that. I do not want this to be a reoccurring nightmare." Doc chuckles, patting Mumbo's shoulder carefully.

"You'll be fine. Hopefully, it'll all be sorted after this. And you've got us. We're pretty terrifying." It takes a bit of effort, but Mumbo leans his head back far enough to see Doc's eyes.

"You know what, I'm holding you to that." He yawns, the energy that's been keeping him going has drained. He can tell he's crashing. "Protect me from businessmen with delusions of grandeur."

"Oh, of course." Doc's voice is dry. "I'll let Iskall know." Mumbo chuckles, shaking his head. He closes his eyes again, accepting he might not stay awake much longer.

"Big scary Iskall."

"He was big and scary when he found out you were in trouble."

"That's Iskall," he agrees. It's nice knowing that they all care about him. He wouldn't be forgotten. They'd keep looking until they found him.

He doesn't realise he's dozed off until he's being gently moved. He blinks his eyes open and realises he's now lying across the seats. Looking up, he finds Doc resting his hand on Mumbo's side. He's talking to someone out of eye-line. Mumbo relaxes. If Doc's there, then he's fine. He has no doubt in his mind about that at all.

The next time he wakes up, it's because he's being nudged awake. Doc is next to him, with a gentle smile.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he greets, sitting back so Mumbo can sit upright. He yawns, covering his hand with his mouth. "We're back at the ships. Got some stuff to finish up before we go back home."

"Is it finished?" Mumbo asks, rubbing his eyes. When he looks out the window, he recognises the hangar parking.

"Yep." Doc crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. "There was an incident-"

"Is Wels okay?" Mumbo interjects, fear twisting his stomach. Doc's expression softens as he nods.

"Wels is fine. Fractured his arm and a little bruised, but Stress has got him. He was asleep last I heard." Mumbo sighs, his chest finally expanding again. He sinks back into the seat. He has no idea how they've made it out of this situation as lucky as they have. "You wanna head into the ship? Let one of the others return this car." Mumbo nods. Would be nice to avoid running into the law after all this.

When he gets closer to the ship, he can hear shouting. He frowns, pressing closer to Doc. Doc simply rolls his eyes.

"They're still going," he murmurs.

"Still?"

Doc shakes his head, "Don't worry about it."

He leans over to open the ship door. The arguing silences immediately. False and Iskall turn to them as they enter. They're helmet-less, although False's hair is still in a bun at the bottom of her head.

"Mumbo!" Iskall moves before Mumbo can react, nearly knocking them over as he wraps his arms around him. Mumbo's brain momentarily malfunctions, taking a second to remember to hug Iskall back. "I was so worried, don't you dare do that again."

"I wasn't planning to, but I'll let you know." Iskall steps back, keeping his hands on Mumbo's forearms.

"And you're okay? How are you feeling?"

"I'm-" The lie nearly slips out before Mumbo thinks about it. He sighs, answering truthfully. "I'm a bit shaken. Finding it hard to believe that all happened, honestly."

"We've got you, okay?" Iskall reminds him. "I'll listen if you want to talk." Mumbo nods. He's not sure when that will be, but he knows it'll do him good.

"Will Xisuma want a proper report?"

"Not until you and Wels are rested up," False says, "He's pleased you're safe." She nods to Doc. "We're going to take the car back."

"Make sure you check in," Iskall tells them.

"We will," Doc reassures, offering a wave as they head outside. The ship feels much emptier with the two of them gone.

"Do you want to see Wels?" Iskall asks. Mumbo didn't realise how much he wanted that until now.

"Yes. Yes, I'd very much like that." Iskall smiles, leading Mumbo through the ship. It's bigger than the one he and Wels took. Offers more than three rooms. Iskall takes them into one of the side doors. Mumbo can immediately see the pink of Stress's suit as she moves around the room, humming a tune to herself. She pauses when she sees them in the doorway.

"Oh! Mumbo, you're back!" She smiles. Mumbo spots Etho curled in a chair on his phone. He raises a hand to acknowledge them. "You're not secretly hiding any injuries are you?"

Mumbo laughs, shaking his head, "No, I promise I'm okay. No injuries on me." She pokes her finger into her cheek.

"And you wouldn't mind me checking?"

"Um, if you want to."

She beams at him, "Nah, you're fine!" Iskall scoffs, gesturing out.

"How come that doesn't work for me? This is bias. Surely that's against oath."

"Iskall, love," Stress starts, her voice dangerously sweet, "Your idea of a minor injury is a stab wound. You've lost trust privileges." Iskall makes a noise of protest whilst Mumbo breaks into laughter. He can see Etho smiling out the corner of his eye.

There's a groan from the bed, then a teasing voice, "Who let you lot in?" Wels pushes himself up with one arm. The bulk of his suit is gone, only the black under-layer left. His other arm is bound by tight fabric to his chest. More interestingly, his hair has been neatly plaited out of his face.

"You shouldn't be moving, mister!" Stress scolds, jumping to move the pillows so he can sit up. "No jostling that arm."

"Yes ma'am," Wels replies. He laughs when Stress flicks his cheek, batting her away with his uninjured arm. Mumbo feels like he can finally breathe properly for the first time since all of this started. Wels looks at him, his expression soft. "Good to see you, Mumbo." His voice turns serious when he asks, "You're okay?"

"I'm fine. Virtually untouched." He holds his arms out before remembering he's still wearing his full suit. "Don't know if I can say the same for you." Wels laughs, sinking into the pillows.

"It's only a broken arm."

"Only," Iskall teases, "Like you're not going to complain when you still can't use it in a week."

Wels hums, "Well, Stress gave me painkillers, so I'm not exactly hurting right now." Stress waves her hands.

"All of you have complexes, I swear! You're gonna gain nothing by sitting there all miserable and sore!" She sounds genuinely exasperated. Mumbo is guilty of falling into that category.

"Admit it, you just like seeing us all loopy." Iskall tilts his head towards her. Stress flashes a smirk, resting her cheek in her palm.

"You can't prove it."

"That's admittance." Etho chimes in, keeping his eyes on his phone, fingers moving impossibly fast.

"I- I don't think that's how you use that word." Iskall frowns, his face scrunching in confusion.

"They're all made up anyway," Etho replies, "I'll use them how I want."

"Stress?" Wels asks, turning to her. His voice is perfectly polite.

"Yes?"

"Can I have more painkillers for the headache they're giving me?" Mumbo barely holds back his laughter. Iskall doesn't, doubling over with it. It only gets stronger when Etho makes a noise, looking disappointed at his phone.

"Yeah, I think you're going to be okay." Iskall pats the bed by Wels's feet. Stress finally sighs, standing fully and shepherding the two in.

"If you're going to clutter the room up then get some chairs. We can have a sleepover." Mumbo smiles, getting pushed into the chair Iskall slides under him.

"Woohoo," Iskall cheers dryly.

"Does that mean I get ice cream?" Wels asks, "I think I deserve ice cream."

"You need more sleep, is what you need." At Wels's dramatic noise she adds, "Ice cream when you wake up."

Iskall sticks his hand up, "Do the rest of us get some?"

"I want ice cream," Etho adds. Stress breathes in slowly, closing her eyes.

"You lot are gonna be the end of me," she announces with a smile. "Go to sleep." Mumbo laughs. Despite his impromptu nap, he can already feel tiredness settling in again. Surrounded by everyone teasing each other, it's not hard to drift off. Nothing's going to get him here.

"He was going to put that collar on him," False explains. Her arms are folded, back straight. The hologram of Xisuma frowns, a surprising display of emotion during a debrief. "If I'd been literally seconds later, X, I don't know what we'd be dealing with."

"And he's doing okay?" Xisuma asks, concern in his voice.

"He's dozing with Wels," Iskall replies. "He said it hasn't set in yet. I've told him I'll be there if he wants to talk about it. Stress and Doc are with them."

"Okay. And Wels?" The two glance at Etho.

"He wasn't great when I found him," Etho explains, his mission voice in full force. "We think he's broken his arm and he was giving me static shocks, so probably electrocuted. Won't know more unless they open up, but they seemed in good spirits earlier." Iskall nods in agreement. It's concerning him how quickly they've both settled. As if nothing traumatic happened. That's the most insidious kind. The one that punches you later.

"What about the people responsible?" All three of them share glances at that. False swallows.

"We secured most of the grunts. The authorities have picked them up." She made sure of it herself.

"But?" Xisuma prompts.

"The main guy, Dukes or whatever, completely vanished." Bitterness is still heavy in Iskall's tone. False sighs.

"I left him in the room, out cold, whilst I got Mumbo out of there. He was gone by the time I got back and so was the collar."

"None of us saw him leave," Etho adds.

"This is... More concerning. So that device is still out there."

"It won't be easy for him to build himself back up after this," False explains, "Most of the papers are already linking it to his company."

"That's no guarantee," Etho points out. "There's ways to place blame, claim he had no idea."

"Or he'll use it to go even deeper," Iskall comments. Xisuma taps his fingers on his arm, the hologram flickering as he thinks.

"Have you told Mumbo or Wels about this?" He asks, finally. He always puts his crew first.

"We've... No," Iskall admits.

"We're not sure how to."

"Make sure you do," Xisuma tells them, "Before you get back tomorrow." He pauses, looking over the camera. "Well, today now. Consider yourselves dismissed. We can have a full debrief when you're back on the ship." The three nod. They exchange a brief farewell before the hologram shuts off. Iskall turns to False, resting his hand on her arm to stop her rushing off.

"I'm sorry for shouting earlier," he apologises, straight to the point. "This has stressed me out more than I'd like, and finding out that scum got away just-" He breaks off. False smiles.

"It's okay. I get it." She couldn't believe it when she got back and he was gone. Then nobody knew where and her blame had to fall somewhere. "But they're with us, now. We're all safe. We got there in time."

"We nearly didn't."

"But we did," Etho states, joining the conversation. "Don't get stuck on the ifs right now. They're going to need us."

Iskall nods. "Right. Yeah." He perks himself up. "After mission nap?" False shakes her head, the three heading back through the ship.

"It's past midnight," she reminds him.

"After mission bedtime," Etho suggests. Iskall laughs, but nods along.

"Things could've gone worse," he states. False claps lightly, aware of the possible sleeping hermits.

"There you go! That's more like it."

"Mission successful-ish," Etho agrees.

"We got them back," False says, "That's the main thing."

"Yeah."

None of them want to consider the alternative.

#space outlaws #space outlaws au #hermitcraft #yeah im maintagging this one took work #my writing #anyway for my usual rambles #theres a few things i think would work differently in the au #but were more fun to include #yes i created a whole villain for this #idk if ill use him in the future #but i thought id leave it open in case #spoilers if u havent read it yet:#wels doesnt panic because of his helmet malfunctioning #he panics because of the emp #but he wont tell mumbo that #fun fact :)

175 notes · View notes

animebw · 3 years ago

Text

Binge-Watching: Pokemon Banned Episodes

It’s time to watch about Pokemon’s banned episodes! These are episodes that, for whatever reason, were either pulled from circulation soon after being dubbed or were never dubbed in the first place. There are seven in total across the show’s initial run, and I’ve already watched one of them- The Ice Cave- which was never dubbed because it featured Prominent Blackface Jynx. Now it’s time to check out the other six and find out why Big Brother doesn’t want you to see them!

This post will be a little looser and less structured than my usual posts. I’ll just briefly touch on each episode in turn and talk about why it was banned, as well as my own impressions. Cool? Cool. Let’s-a go!

Beauty and the Beach: A beach episode? What could possibly go wrong? Well, everything, basically. You’ve got lots of banning shots of girls in bikinis, an old man leering at Misty’s boobs (and no, trying to localize it as “you remind me of my granddaughter doesn’t make it any less creepy), and James wearing inflatable breasts that made me physically retch. Also, Misty��s forced to parade her bikini-clad body in front of a drooling audience for money. Yeah, it’s the G-rated version of that and there’s no real fanservice, per se, but still, yikes. Turns out, OG Japanese Pokemon is way hornier than the dub would lead you to believe. There’s even that one line in the OG theme song about looking for Pokemon under a girl’s skirt. And it’s super fucking uncomfortable on every level. Thank god that American standards for kid’s content are more prudish so the localization team scrubbed all this stuff out.

-It’s interesting that despite dubbing this episode, they didn’t translate any of the signs into English. I wonder why?

-”You’ll always be my baby.” We really need more Deliah Ketchum content.

The Legend of Dratini: The gang stops Team Rocket from stealing a rare Dratini! This episode was never dubbed because the guest character is a park ranger who points an actual gun at Ash on multiple occasions, and guns in American kid’s cartoons is still very no-no. Thought honestly, it’s kind of funny how intense the ranger is about the whole thing. They’re just a bunch of kids, dude, no need to go full Lone Ranger on them. Also: yet more uncomfortable horny with Jessie trying to seduce said ranger, despite him being an old man. Gross.

-”Please do something about that talking through singing thing.” pfft

-So Dratini’s Japanese name, Miniryu, is literally just “mini dragon.” Nice.

-Ash Fucking Dies(tm)

-Oh, that’s where Ash gets his giant horde of Tauros. I was wondering.

-Okay but why is this ED just Meowth singing an acoustic guitar song

AI Soldier Porygon: Ah, the infamous episode that gave seizures to tons of kids watching and made Japan tighten its broadcast standards so you couldn’t show rapidly flashing lights anymore. Truly, Pokemon was a groundbreaking show. And yes, there are a lot of flashing lights in this episode, and despite not being epileptic myself, it puts a lot of strain on your eyes. I can totally see how it messed people up.

Other than that, this episode is mostly fun as a late-90s throwback to the era when people were just starting to get into computers but didn’t entirely know how they worked. Ash imagines a computer virus as an actual virus, the internet world the gangs visits gives me heavy flashbacks to Scooby-Doo Lost in Cyberspace, of all things, and somehow an antivirus program escapes to the real world and blows up like an actual bomb. It’s pretty ridiculous, but hey, that’s Pokemon for you.

-Hold on, this guy’s name is Professor Akihabara? As in, the nerdy professor is named after Tokyo’s otaku mecca? Good lord, this show.

-And now I realize that Porygon’s name is a Japanization of “polygon,” because of course it is.

Holiday Hi-Jynx: In case you couldn’t tell from the title, this is another episode done in by Blackface Jynx. It’s a pretty silly holiday special about Jessie restoring her faith in Santa Claus after trying to kidnap him. Also, Santa exists in the Pokemon world, his sleigh is pulled by a Rapidash instead of reindeer, and his elves are all Jynxes. Don’t ask me to explain that, because I don’t think I can.

-So, apparently Jynx has telepathy hair. Huh.

-Ash jumping headfirst into reckless situations will never stop being funny.

-”I think it’s time to Psywave goodbye now.” Santa’s a fucking savage, lol.

Stage Fight: Another Jynx casualty! She only shows up for like three seconds in a group shot and never actually talks, but I guess even that was too much. Which is a shame, because this is a pretty fun episode. The concept of a radio play pantomimed by Pokemon as human actors do their voices behind a curtain is exactly the kind of bonkers worldbuilding I come to this franchise for, and there’s even a sweet emotional arc about a trainer overcoming her fear of her Raichu so she can patch up their relationship and make it trust her again.

-”It’s kinda hard to match the lip flaps, isn’t it?” Ahahaha, dub humor.

The Mandarin Island Miss Match: MAN, am I bummed this episode got banned. It’s such a great development episode for Ash, forcing him to cool his arrogance and realize how much he owes the Pokemon and people around him for helping him win. It takes more than outer strength to be a great trainer; it takes respecting your Pokemon and appreciating them for all they do. After all, they’re the ones actually fighting and winning the badges that Ash is so proud of. Seeing that realization would’ve made his character development even more satisfying on a grand scale. Also, Prima is the fucking best and she absolutely triggered Misty’s lesbian awakening through the sheer power of her boobage. Which may be part of why the episode was banned, honestly; Prima’s got some stacked funbags, and that might’ve been a little too much for American censors. Plus, you know, it’s got Jynx in it too. Once again, a potentially great Pokemon episode is wiped from memory because of blackface. Gotta love hate it.

-”Sometimes, his brain goes out to lunch.” pfft

-”Now you really look like ash.” Damn, Misty’s on fire today. As is Ash, I suppose.

-”She’s using perverse psychology on me!” “You know, you sound smarter with your mouth shut.” I’M FUCKING LOSING IT

-”Is it available on CD?” “Tape only! 18.95.” sdfkhsdf Prima’s great

Best of Team Rocket

-”We work with Jessie, so we know all about brutal!”

-”We’re so good, we destroy things without even trying!”

-”Don’t worry, I prepared this parachute!” *splat* akjdhskdfhs nice

-”We conduct misdeeds in a fair and open manner.”

-Team Rocket Dinner Theater sounds like the best fucking idea.

-”Can’t we be friends, even thought we’re stealing from you?”

-”And a wet Meowth is an unpleasant Meowth!”

-”Losing is so important, it’s what we based our whole career on!”

And with that, I really have finished Pokemon’s initial run. Just one more movie to go, and then it’s time to move on to LoGH!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #pokemon #pokemon gen2

11 notes · View notes

dakt37 · 4 years ago

Text

Anyone in the mood for Steve/Tony secret identity shenanigans with a dash of mutual pining?

Behind the scenes I've been wildly obsessed with this ship since about April, and the other day I wrote something that I'm fond of enough to share. It's not a fic really, more of just a treatment with some dialogue scattered about. 2.4k-ish words, present tense because that's the way my brain works. Inspired by a slew of fics I've been devouring this week, but hopefully not close enough to be ripping anyone off.

Okay so, it's one of those versions of the Avengers where nobody* knows that Tony Stark is Iron Man. They know he built the suit and is the Avengers' sugar daddy and resident inventor, but they think Iron Man himself is a separate guy, hired by Mr. Stark to be a bodyguard and pilot for the armor. His identity is Top Secret. Heck, at first everyone thought he was a robot. That cat got out of the bag, but it was true enough to tell everyone that he was just pretending to be a robot to protect his secret and not let enemies know of a potential weakness; i.e., that he's squishy under the armor. Plus, if people knew Iron Man was really a man, they'd try to figure out who he is. And Mr. Stark is very serious about wanting to protect his employees. (*Pepper and Rhodey know, and probably Happy? But no one else.)

Well Steve ends up falling for Iron Man anyway. Even not knowing his real name, his face, or even his true voice because it's always modulated (in an obvious way; it's tinny and robotic, part of the Iron Man branding). He gets him in private one day and confesses, in a very adorable and awkward way. Tony panics because honestly he's fallen for Steve too, but he can't let him know that, at least not now as Iron Man. He doesn't quite reject him the way he should-- that is, he doesn't directly say he's not interested. He knows Steve would be able to see straight through the lie, so instead he just keeps insisting that he "can't" return his feelings.

They go back and forth a bit about possible roadblocks.

"Is it because I'm a man?"

"What? No, that doesn't make a difference to me."

"Is it a trust issue?"

"Of course not, I trust you with my life."

"Is it because of your boss?"

Iron Man hesitates because… well yeah! Technically it IS because of Tony Stark.

Steve sees the opening and presses on, "Would he… let you go if you revealed your identity to me?"

Iron Man chuckles, to Steve's consternation, "No, he couldn't do that. It's just… he… it's complicated."

Steve opens his mouth to continue his inquiries, but Iron Man cuts him off. "I'm sorry, Cap. I really, really am." And he flies away, feeling like a jackass and a coward.

Steve meanwhile just feels determined and suspicious. Iron Man isn't afraid of being fired, but there's clearly something to do with Mr. Stark that's holding him back. Steve decides to pay a visit to the Avengers' benefactor to get some clues.

Later, Tony is down in an Avengers lab, brooding about the latest fine mess he's found himself in. This secret identity thing is getting to be a real pain in the ass. And if Cap has been paying attention to Iron Man enough to think he's fallen for the Tin Man, then surely he's been paying attention enough to notice how rarely Iron Man and Tony Stark are in the same room together. The armor has an autopilot mode, but it's not so convincing now that people know that Iron Man is a real guy in a suit and not just a robot.

So Tony has set himself at the task of improving the autopilot. The AI part isn't actually so hard; he's made some pretty personable AIs before. But JARVIS is just a voice; Iron Man also needs to move. Getting the subtleties of natural movement into the armor is tricky business. He runs analyses on video footage of himself to nail down things like how he shifts his weight while standing around, how he gesticulates while speaking, and how he interacts physically with his teammates on the battlefield (a friendly shoulder pat, a hand up, flying with a passenger, etc.)

The movements of the autopilot are getting smoother, but there's still a little lag to non-battle actions, causing the beginnings of a gesture or sentence to seem a bit stilted. Tony uploads his latest iteration of the code into the suit and starts putting it through its paces.

It's certainly not the first time Steve has walked in on Mr. Stark working on the Iron Man suit. Between fixing battle damage and adding upgrades, there's usually some pieces and parts scattered around the lab. But today it's the whole suit, assembled and standing apparently of its own accord in the middle of the room. A few wires are connecting it to the ceiling and nearby computers, but they're slack. Data cables and fall-arrest lines maybe, but nothing actively keeping the suit upright. Steve freezes, half hidden behind one of the partitions used to divvy up the lab space. He hasn't announced himself yet, and Mr. Stark is clearly wrapped up in his work.

Steve stares at the suit, wondering. It's standing unnervingly still, but that doesn't negate the possibility that the pilot is inside, being careful and patient as Mr. Stark circles him and taps various joints. Tony moves to stand in front of the suit, hands on his hips, looking up into the glowing white eyes. Steve's gaze rolls over the pair, noting in an absentminded way that Iron Man's height advantage is at least partly due to the large rocket boosters in his boots. Steve has always known Iron Man to be the same height as himself, if not slightly taller, and he suddenly wonders where the pilot stands without those boots.

Tony lifts a hand and knocks lightly against the chestplate. "Relax, buddy."

The suit shifts, and Steve inhales sharply despite himself. It's like watching his fellow servicemen go from parade rest to at ease; not a huge move, but an assortment of loosening muscles that breathes life into a simple standing pose. Iron Man shifts his weight slightly onto one foot, cocking a hip. His shoulders relax, and his helmeted face tilts down to better meet Mr. Stark's gaze.

Tony grins. "Hey there." He sounds pretty pleased. "Let's do a voice check. Give me a catch phrase."

"If we can't protect the world, you can be damn well sure we'll Avenge it." Iron Man's voice seems extra robotic, syllables not quite falling where they should. It hitches as well, the last word dissolving into static. Steve frowns along with Tony.

"Oh, gross. That was awful. Downgrade from the last test for sure." Tony cups Iron Man's jaw with one hand, encouraging him to tip his head back. "Bad coil too, sounds like." He taps Iron Man on the neck with one finger, where his Adams apple would be under the armor. Steve swallows reflexively as he watches. "I'll have to get that from the inside," Tony mutters, more to himself than to Iron Man, Steve feels, but then Tony has a habit of doing that to just about everybody.

Tony reaches up to hold Iron Man's jaw in both hands now. His fingers slide along the metal almost like a caress as he tilts the helmet down to face him again. Something twists in Steve's stomach. It's an awfully familiar way to touch another person's face, even though a helmet. Tony's index fingers sweep up and catch in the seam where the golden faceplate meets the red jaw. There's a soft click, one Steve is sure he couldn't have heard if he didn't have enhanced hearing. His breath stops.

Tony is going to lift the faceplate. He's going to reveal the man underneath. Of course he can, of course he knows who the mysterious pilot is. But they don't know that Steve is there. He's not supposed to know. He promised he'd never pry. Should he announce himself? Run? Just close his eyes?

The faceplate has only come away from the helmet the barest inch when Tony stops. For one wild second, Steve thinks he's been made. Surely one of Mr. Stark's computers picked up his presence.

"This isn't priority," Tony declares, pressing his thumbs to the corners of Iron Man's mouth slit and closing the helmet with another audible click. "A broken voice box is excusable. Need to make sure you can move right first."

Steve leans on the room divider he's still mostly obscured by, feeling almost dizzy. His stomach twists again, and he's not sure if it's from relief or acute disappointment. He'd never want to break Iron Man's trust, or Mr. Stark's for that matter. But… he'd been so close… he could have finally known… He shakes his head, refocusing on the pair across the room.

Tony has retreated to a nearby workbench, picking up a rubix cube. He tosses it at Iron Man. "Reflex check." The armored man catches it easily. "Let's see your dexterity," Tony prompts next. Iron Man starts twisting the cube, but quickly gets jammed as the blocks don't quite get flush with each other before he tries to twist in a cross direction. Tony chuckles. "It's not a race, buddy. JARVIS, increase finger sensitivity by ten percent." Iron Man pauses, then reassesses the cube, feeling around the sides and smoothing the blocks into place before choosing his next twist. Steve finds it slightly odd that he's not looking down at the cube as he manipulates it, but he supposes that the point is the hand motion and not to actually solve the puzzle. It's important to have spatial awareness even without your eyes, after all.

Tony grins wide again. "Much better." He takes the cube back and tosses it uncaringly over his shoulder. "Let's work on your people skills. Oh!" He throws his hands up in mock despair, pitching his voice in silly melodrama, "There's danger afoot! Save me, Iron Man!"

Iron Man tilts his head to face his employer, and Steve would swear he could read fond exasperation in the slight pause before he responds. Or maybe Steve's just projecting his own feelings about Tony's antics.

"Fear not, citizen," Iron Man deadpans. "Iron Man is here to rescue you."

Tony bursts out laughing, but is interrupted as Iron Man wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him in. Steve can't help but smirk at the honest to god squeak that Tony emits as Iron Man tucks him tightly into his side. Tony squirms, smacking Iron Man's chest with an open palm as he gasps, "Too tight!! Ease up fifteen percent!" The metal arm around his waist loosens slightly, and Tony slackens with it. He huffs, laying his cheek on Iron Man's shoulder, forehead against his neck. "Careful with your psi there, Romeo. I don't need any civil suits on my hands over cracked ribs."

Iron Man pauses again before replying, "Okay." He shifts his head, looking down at Tony. "Are you injured." His voice still has a bit of a flat quality. Steve hopes Mr. Stark fixes that "coil" in his voicebox before their next team-up. It's hard enough to pick up some of his more subtle inflections through the modulators on a good day; Steve doesn't want to lose any more of his true voice.

"Nah," replies Tony, shifting against the metal arm that's still wrapped firmly around his waist. "Fit as a fiddle. Fit to fly, in fact. Passenger test. Low hover."

Iron Man adjusts his stance, free hand flattening palm-down to activate the flight stabilizer. He lifts Tony with his other arm, helping the smaller man step up onto his metal boots. Tony slides his arms up, wrapping them securely around Iron Man's neck. Steve's stomach does yet another odd twist as his brain supplies him with the word, "embrace."

"Hold on tight, citizen," orders Iron Man, activating his rocket boots and sending them straight up, about two feet off the floor.

Tony is laughing again. It's a light, mirthful sound; not the derisive scoff Steve is used to hearing from him. "That's too cheesy, oh my god. You sound like Cap in an old news reel." Steve startles at the mention of himself.

"I'll ease up on the cheese by fifteen percent," replies Iron Man, echoing Tony's previous comment.

Tony's eyes sparkle. "Much better. Love to hear that good humor."

"Easy to have good humor with such good company."

"Oh ho! Careful with the flirting out in the field. Can get a guy in trouble."

Flirting.

The word bounces off Steve's brain, rebounds against the inside of his skull, and then sinks in like a throwing ax lodging into a tree with a 'thunk.'

Flirting.

Iron Man was flirting with Tony Stark. Tony, the only one on the team who knew his true face. Tony, who so carefully tended to the armor that kept the man inside safe. Tony, who caressed Iron Man's helmeted face, laid his head on his shoulder, twined his arms around his neck. Tony Stark, the most eligible bachelor in the world, who was never known to have the same date twice, let alone to ever be in a real relationship.

The revelation crashed into Steve as if Iron Man himself had tackled him. Iron Man couldn't not date Steve because of his secret identity. He couldn't date him because of his secret relationship. Iron Man and Tony Stark were involved, and hiding it from the world. Iron Man by hiding his face, and Tony by acting the flighty playboy.

Steve was so shocked, so utterly distracted by the parade of emotions stampeding through him, that he didn't register that the hovering pair was slowly revolving on the spot. At least, not until he heard Tony's alarmed yelp of, "Steve?!" and looked up to find him staring directly at him, wide-eyed, over Iron Man's shoulder.

Tony Stark was not a man who embarrassed easily. In fact he was self-described as shameless. On the surface there was nothing suspect about the sort of tests he was running with Iron Man. Steve would bet bottom dollar that in any other circumstance, Tony would cheekily play up the potentially questionable nature of their current pose, reveling in the salacious humor. But instead he was panicked, caught out. And that clinched it for Steve. He'd stumbled onto a secret affair.

Steve realized his mouth was hanging open, waiting to say words that his brain wouldn't provide. For a second, Tony seemed equally dumbstruck. Then color rushed to his face, and he barked, "Get out!!"

Steve didn't need telling twice.

#Stony secret ID plotbunny #dakity yaks #i don't even know which reality this is an AU of tbh #i had old comics vibes in my brain but #it's however you'd like to read it really #long post #in case the cut doesn't work #stevetony #stony #super husbands

101 notes · View notes