#and also if you'd be willing to throw a few bucks at it :)

[brucebocchi]

Winter 2024 anime, Pt. 2: Mixed reactions, the bench, and the gems

hey y'all, this is also up on my ko-fi! it's free to read both here and there, but i'm struggling financially rn so i could appreciate if you'd throw a few bucks my way if you liked it! part 1 can be found here.

And we're back for part 2! Here's all the new stuff I finished this season, and one more I'll get back to later. As with before, these are sorted alphabetically within each category and are not ranked as of yet.

Also as before, the OP for each series is linked in the title. Check them all out if the header images aren't giving you the right feel for each show, but also check them out because most of them were actually pretty damn good this season.

[Solo Leveling OP voice] LET'S GET IT!

Mixed Bags:

Hokkaido Gals Are Super Adorable!

Your standard, quasi-harem “easily flustered Regular Guy wins over hot girls just by being really nice” shonen romcom. I really don’t have much to say about this one other than if you’ve seen My Dress-Up Darling, you’ve basically seen this already. The only thing that really sets it apart is the setting.

Tsubasa (voiced by Nobunaga Shimazaki, in a FAR cry from his turn as Mahito in Jujutsu Kaisen) is a straight-laced Tokyoite whose family situation lands him in a small city in the frozen boonies of Hokkaido. While looking for the bus to his new house, he runs into a gyaru in the snowy wild, the underdressed, hilariously-proportioned Minami, and they hit it off. It turns out they go to the same school, there are other cute girls there who take a shine to him as well, it’s nothing new.

I ultimately don’t have much to say about Hokkaido Gals, but I do have a soft spot for series like this, and after reading ahead in the manga I felt obligated to see it through. This is all junk food, but it’s all stuff you’ve seen done better in other series. I also have a soft spot for gyaru in anime and manga, and while I do like Minami just fine, she isn’t Marin Kitagawa or Rumiko Manbagi. I don’t really have it in me to recommend this show to many, though, at least not until another season rolls around, if that ever happens. The manga genuinely does get a lot better as it goes on, but the really worthwhile stuff may not happen until a third season, and I just don’t see that happening. 

The manga has issues that the anime isn’t willing or able to solve, chief of which being the visuals. The art style of the manga is wildly inconsistent, and getting a mediocre animation team on this didn’t help matters at all. While the colors often pop nicely against the pretty, snowy backdrops, nobody looks all that great overall. The characters are recognizable, but they just plain don’t look great a lot of the time, nor do they look consistent from one cut to the next; I said that Minami’s proportions are hilarious, but just as hilarious is how wildly they vacillate from one scene to the next for the sake of trying to titillate the viewer.

My biggest takeaway from both the manga and anime was everything I learned about Hokkaido in the process, and if the series is taking subsidies from the island’s tourism bureau, then it’s a job well done. I want some goddamn jingisukan now. The OP is a great time, though. I’m shocked it took over a decade for us to get a proper “Uptown Funk” knockoff in an anime.

Metallic Rouge

I’ll be upfront in saying that this was my biggest disappointment of the season by far. This show had so much going for it, and what we got was… ugh.

There was an unbelievable amount of promise from the outset: This was Studio Bones’ commemorative 25th anniversary production, and coming from the studio that gave us all-timer adaptations like Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood and Mob Psycho 100, not to mention later works from Cowboy Bebop creator Shinichiro Watanabe (including the Cowboy Bebop movie), you can’t fault anyone for having high expectations. It looked to be a fitting production as well: Watanabe’s influence shines through immediately in the gorgeous, lived-in cyberpunk off-world locales and racially diverse cast. Action takes the form of dope robo-tokusatsu transformation fisticuffs, and it’s entirely in 2D animation to boot. The first couple of episodes were killer, too; everything looked and sounded amazing, and there were just enough plot threads teased out that I just had to see how they’d unravel.

It brings me no joy, then, to say that Metallic Rouge collapses into a jumbled mess. I don’t even want to bother talking about what happens in the show because I don’t fucking care anymore. There are few media experiences more sobering than to have it dawn on you over a span of several weeks that “oh… this isn’t actually all that good, is it?” Episode after episode piles on with sloppy lore, weak worldbuilding, warring factions whose names you immediately forget, pointless double-crosses, and the most predictable twist you’ve ever seen. For a while I was willing to accept the fact that I didn’t know what was going on half the time and expected things to become clearer, but now I’m not entirely sure the writers knew either. The stakes apparently kept rising and everything just kept getting more claustrophobic. I’m glad it’s over, if only because if I had to hear “Clair de Lune” one more fucking time, I was going to go ballistic. 

There are several attempts at emotional beats, as the story is rife with tragedy and sacrifice, and every single one lands with a wet thud. Nobody gets enough time, motivation, or characterization for any of these things to feel like they actually matter, and that’s especially a shame because the finale might have been able to stick the landing if the previous episodes were less dense and better paced. Emphasis on “almost,” though, because just before the season ends, we get the absolute most pointless fakeout I’ve seen since The Rise of Skywalker, which is the lowest point of comparison you can make for any work of sci-fi.

This is especially frustrating because on paper, there is so much to like here. Rouge and Naomi are likable-enough deuteragonists with a fun dynamic, and they’d make easy yuri bait in a better show. The characters are all pretty and uniquely designed across the board, and the overall aesthetic, almost a pastiche of late-90’s anime futurism, is undeniable. The toku suit designs are neat and several of the action scenes are gorgeous. The score and soundtrack are outstanding (except for the aforementioned Debussy indulgence). I have few complaints about how the show looks and sounds; the style is great! All of my issues lie with the substance.

Metallic Rouge may have had all the ingredients, but it just needed more time to cook; whether that would have been by doubling the episode count or by more carefully planning the pacing and trimming some of the fat from the lore, I’m still not sure. Probably both. It probably needed better writers, too. Maybe it just isn’t as smart as it acts and there was no way to satisfyingly resolve the clumsy civil rights allegories that bring it uncomfortably close to the likes of Detroit: Become Human. So all of the above, I guess. I tend to adore stories that involve artificially-intelligent beings developing their own wills and emotions and learning to cut their own strings (the likes of Blade Runner, Nier Automata, even a couple of character arcs in the Persona series), but this ain’t it. I’m not even mad anymore. I’m just disappointed.

If there are two positives that will stick with me, though, they would be the absolute banger of an OP and, of course, Naomi Orthmann herself (pictured above, left). Outstanding character design. I’m mildly obsessed. She deserved a better show.

The Unwanted Undead Adventurer

This one isn’t even worth talking about, so here’s a brief synopsis, then I’ll add some commentary, and then we’ll all move on with our lives. 

Rentt, a beloved but mediocre adventurer in a fantasy town, gets lost in the mysterious labyrinth that all adventurers explore for personal gain, gets waxed by a dragon, and awakens as a shitty-looking CGI skeleton. He notices, though, that he’s able to level up better as a skeleton than he did as a human, and with the more monsters he defeats, the more he evolves into something closer to human. The rest isn’t really worth discussing.

If I’m being honest, I should’ve dropped this show much sooner. It looks kinda lousy most of the time, the plot (inasmuch as there even is one) is boring, character designs are forgettable (except for Rentt’s closest ally, Lorraine, holy hell) and it seems wholly uninterested in actually building its own setting. If it returns for a second season, I won’t be there, nor will I feel like I’m missing anything. Each episode felt like a chore to watch. I probably only saw it through because 1) I liked looking at Lorraine, I know what I’m about, and 2) I didn’t want to lump it in with the shows I did drop. The Unwanted Undead Adventurer isn’t as patently upsetting or frustrating as those three, but it just plain isn’t a very good show.

The Witch and the Beast

This show could have been so much more. I was drawn in by the gorgeous character designs and intriguing blend of Victorian gothic aesthetics and architecture with modern infrastructure, and very quickly disappointed by just about everything else. The first episode is an exceptional proof of concept, and almost everything that follows is an upsetting showcase of what could have been.

The story centers around Ashaf, a languid, chain-smoking agent of the governing church with a big-ass coffin strapped to his back, and his partner Guideau, a snarling hyena in a young woman’s body, as they investigate abuses of magic across the continent in search of nefarious witches. Guideau in particular has a bone to pick with witches, as the body they presently inhabit is the result of a witch’s curse, and they remain in furious pursuit of the one who cursed them. The curse can be temporarily undone by a kiss with a witch, allowing Guideau’s true body, a hulking brute confined to the coffin, to escape and wreak havoc. Meaning that on a few occasions we get a girl-on-girl kiss followed by a big dude wrecking shit. There’s also other investigations of serial killings, necromancy, and a cursed sword, and here’s hoping you like those, because the coffin breaks are few and far between.

This wasn’t great! By the third episode I had the sneaking suspicion that the animation talent on hand just wasn’t enough to support the aesthetic. While the character designs are exceptional, almost everyone looks awful in any shot that isn’t completely focused on them. This is especially true of Guideau, who looks so inconsistently off-model from one shot to the next that I’m still not entirely sure what they’re supposed to look like, and that’s kind of unforgivable when we’re talking about a main character. Everything looks too dim and too shiny at the same time, and action scenes look like shit more often than they look interesting. I can see so many flickers of something excellent (or at least really good-looking) in Witch and the Beast, and everything else that keeps those flickers from actually igniting makes it so much more frustrating to watch. Maybe just read the manga instead; the panels I've seen from it were uniformly gorgeous.

Actually, yeah, you should probably just read the manga, because for a season of anime, the pacing is atrocious too. It’s clearly trying to angle for a monster-of-the-week format, but each of these mini-arcs is a little too dense for a single episode, so multiple episodes are dedicated to these one-off curiosities, most of which do nothing to advance the plot or show off what the show does best. And if one of them isn’t particularly interesting, you’re saddled with it for the next two weeks like you've been stuck munching on a mealy apple. And I know you can only adapt so much in a 12-episode season, but the decision to end the season on a flashback arc and a lore dump was baffling. That’s not world-building, that’s lazy, and it made the show’s existing pacing issues feel that much more inane.

I feel like I was sold a false bill of goods. I can only imagine how the mangaka feels about this. Dull and uninspiring all around. What a waste.

The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic

Isekai, unassuming high school boy gains a unique power, impending war with the Demon Lord, yadda yadda yadda. The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic isn’t anything new or special by any means, nor is it particularly well-animated or -paced, but at its best it’s silly and charming enough that it made a nice, brainless palate cleanser on Fridays.

Usato, your standard quiet high schooler, ends up walking home on a rainy evening with the popular, attractive student council president and VP, when an isekai portal happens. It turns out that it was just the seito-kai that was invited along for the ride (and President Suzune, as it turns out, is fucking psyched to get to be in an isekai), and Usato got caught along with them. When tested for magical aptitude, Suzune and VP Kazuki hit the jackpot with electric and light affinities, respectively, but things go awry when Usato’s reading turns up with healing magic. Terror strikes the palace as the intimidating dommy-mommy Captain Rose barges in to spirit Usato away from his new friends and into her squadron of goons to train him as a combat medic.

As character comedy goes, this one is actually pretty solid at times. Shogo Sakata is plenty of fun as the put-upon, lippy Usato (a much louder role than Chainsaw Man’s Aki Hayakawa), and Atsuko Tanaka (Major Kusanagi herself!) is a blast as the terrifying Rose, an uncompromising slave driver of a drill sergeant with a secret soft side. The dynamic between them is great, too; Usato is over Rose’s shit from the beginning and isn’t afraid to talk back to her, but before you know it, this transforms into friendly banter as Rose clearly takes a shine to Usato and knows he can handle any punishment she doles out. Suzune’s also a bunch of fun now that she’s broken away from having to be the competent, popular girl at school and gets to fully lean into being a complete dork.

Wrong Way also works decently as an isekai, because it makes an effort to stay rooted in high fantasy rather than fall back on JRPG mechanics, meaning there are no stat screens! It also avoids the trappings of wish-fulfillment isekai series by having Usato start out as a regular-ass guy; he’s not a Kirito type, just someone Rose sees as a rough gem in need of cutting. There are no cheat skills or OP weapons or anything, just a kid training every day to get stronger so he can protect the people close to him, and that’s the kind of anime protagonist you should want to be.

For better and for worse, I get serious mid-00s vibes from this one; watch the OP if you don’t believe me. Some of the colors pop uncannily in that early-digipaint-era way, and the animation is pretty middling; the most fluid animation we see is whenever Suzune is acting like a creep. Much like those mid-00s anime, though, Wrong Way may have benefited from being weekly (or twice as long) rather than seasonal. There’s a ton of planting with very little payoff, and it doesn’t feel like the actual scope of the story has even been addressed yet. We don’t even learn why the series has the name it does until someone literally says it aloud in the 11th episode. I may have to reevaluate this season after a possible second, if we ever get one, because this doesn’t stand too well on its own.

Of the anime in this “mixed bags” segment, I’d say I enjoyed Wrong Way the most, but it still had enough problems for me to keep it here. It’s not a particularly bad anime, but it’s not especially good either. I guess we can slot it into what Hazel refers to as “good mid.”

On Hold: 

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (three episodes watched)

Man, what a title. That was the main draw for this BL series, which on paper is basically a gay version of the Mel Gibson vehicle What Women Want. 

Adachi (a surname that will always make me laugh thanks to Persona 4), a gloomy salaryman, has hit the big 3-0 without getting any, and now he can somehow read anyone’s thoughts just by making physical contact with them. Just as he laments that this is his life now, he accidentally bumps into his handsome, popular coworker, Kurosawa, whom he learns has been harboring a massive crush on Adachi this whole time. Well dang, what now? Kurosawa’s a really nice, thoughtful dude, but Adachi’s never even thought about being with a man before! And isn’t there something wrong with already knowing this secret? How can he even go into the office and look Kurosawa in those big, handsome eyes… every single day…

What I’ve seen so far has been pretty solid, if not particularly well animated. The visuals are really my only gripe here; I just put it off for way too long and didn’t have it in me to finish it on time to actually get this thing written and published. Yaoi isn’t my forte, which feels like a shortcoming on my end as a fledgling bisexual, and I’ve already remarked on the solid LGBT representation this past season, so I do plan on hopping back on this one.

I gotta say, the co-leading voice actors put in serious work this season. Adachi is voiced by Chiaki Kobayashi, who continued his role as Stark in Frieren, returned to Mashle as Mash Burnedead, and contributed to Metallic Rouge’s cluttered cast as Noid. Kurosawa’s seiyuu, Ryota Suzuki (of whom I’ll always be a fan for his masterful turn as Yu Ishigami in Kaguya-sama), also held down leading roles in Bang Brave Bang Bravern and The Unwanted Undead Adventurer. They’ve been great in the few episodes of Cherry Magic! that I’ve seen so far, and they’ll be a huge part of what brings me back.

The Gems:

Bang Brave Bang Bravern

I feel like the mark of a perfectly audacious piece of media is in the moments where I find myself incredulously shouting “WHAT THE FUCK AM I WATCHING” at the screen, and Bravern made me do that at least once per episode. I have so many things to say about what makes this show great but all of it can be summed up as “it fucks so goddamn hard.”

A joint military exercise in Hawaii between Japanese and American mech pilots goes south as a sudden invasion by metalloid aliens portends certain doom for humanity. Just in the nick of time, though, a bombastic, autonomous mech named Bravern arrives from space and insists that ace pilot Isami Ao take his reins. Isami reluctantly agrees, and to his consternation, Bravern goes full tokusatsu on everyone’s asses, complete with fully-diegetic theme music, and keeps the threat at bay. With Bravern continuing to pester him to act as a pilot, Isami is forced to take up the mantle of a reluctant hero as everyone rallies around Bravern to save Earth. Tagging along is blond-haired, blue-eyed American pilot Lewis Smith, who gets to live out all of his Top Gun fantasies, right down to the latent homosexuality.

That last point isn’t a projection or anything: This show is legitimately gay as hell, and it rules. Bravern’s feelings towards Isami feel far more romantic than what you’d expect from a literal robot, and his description of how it felt to have Isami pilot him for the first time, as relayed to a grim-faced military council, is riddled with hilarious innuendo. Isami struggles not only with shouldering the burden of needing to be a hero to all of humanity, but also being beset on both sides by a loud, insistent mecha and a dewy-eyed gaijin, both of whom very well seem to want to get in his pants. Intricate rituals punctuate Isami and Lewis’ angsty relationship as these broad-shouldered, muscular men grow ever closer. It’s also worth reiterating that Isami is voiced by Ryota Suzuki, who also voiced Kurosawa in Cherry Magic!, and that may not have even been his gayest role this season. I’m not super well-versed in mecha as a genre, but I do know that there’s a lot of Warrior’s Bond-type stuff in these series, and Bravern lays it on thick. And hard.

This show looks killer, by the way. CGI implementation in 2D anime is still a touchy subject, but Bravern features some of the best I’ve ever seen. Simple cel-shading goes a long way to the point where, outside of some uncanny motion, Bravern himself feels perfectly blended into the hand-drawn animation. Mecha designs range from realistic military-style tech to otherworldly sentient robots, and battle sequences run the same gamut as the stakes rise. As goofy as all of the above may sound, it’s committed to being a grandiose, big-time mecha showcase.

This is as good as camp gets in anime; Bravern does for the mecha genre what Akiba Maid War did for yakuza film pastiche (I have also heard positive comparisons to Samurai Flamenco, which I’ll have to get on ASAP). It’s an excellent mecha show in its own right, and wildly hilarious to boot. Bravern himself is very genre-savvy and seemingly a bit of an otaku himself; he loves acting like a mecha hero, to everyone else’s chagrin. Several of the villains (also mechanical beings, voiced by an all-star seiyuu roster that includes Kenjiro Tsuda, the aforementioned Atsuko Tanaka, and Rie Kugimiya) are total dorks themselves. A CIA interrogator tries to waterboard a mecha at one point. Bravern is a deeply silly show, but its heart is planted as firmly on its sleeve as its tongue is in its cheek: For as wacky as it can get, the story still unfolds with a straight face and excellent emotional beats. 

This show also has the most unskippable ED of any anime since Chainsaw Man dropped a new one every week. I will not say what happens. You cannot predict what it is. Just watch it. One of the top YouTube comments on that video says “When I saw this ending after episode 2, I thought I was going crazy.” That’s a ringing endorsement.

Chained Soldier

On the heels of 100 Girlfriends completely rewiring my brain, I was raring for some more good old-fashioned anime trash. I was told that there would be plenty this season, but you can consult the “dropped” section to see how well that worked out for me. Chained Soldier came with some significant hype, and soon enough into the first episode I realized that I’d actually skimmed through this manga before (don’t ask why), so I was on board immediately. Now here’s some nice trashy fun.

The world is in peril thanks to creatures called Shuuki that can advance on our world via portals from another dimension. Women primarily lead the charge against these monsters, as this dimension produces a special fruit that can lend them (and not men) otherworldly powers to help them in the fight. Yuuki, a perfectly normal young man, ends up in grave danger as he stumbles into a portal, where he is saved by the beautiful Kyouka, a commander who is able to subjugate Shuuki at will and use them to fight others. In a bind, she asks Yuuki if she can subjugate him, which he agrees to by licking her finger and transforming into a monster himself, at her beck and call. Because of his utility in battle, Yuuki is enlisted into her squad of baddies (and also an 11-year-old), living in their home as a caretaker and answering directly to Kyouka as her “slave.”

I know. Hear me out.

I put “slave” in scare quotes because Chained Soldier fortunately isn’t going full Shield Hero on us; this arrangement has a give-and-take baked in. See, every time Yuuki completes his service, Kyouka (or whomever else takes advantage of this anomaly) is compelled to carry out whatever suitable “reward” springs from his unconscious, and this is where the ecchi kicks in. Sometimes it’s a kiss, and sometimes it’s something a little more; the reward corresponds to the length and intensity of Yuuki’s contributions to battle, so the heat can turn up in the form of, say, clothed face-sitting, a good scrubbing in the bath, or some nice, casual CBT. All of this is to say that “slave” is a bit of a buzzword here: It’s more of a dom/sub situationship with a lot of extra steps.

Yes, just about everything that isn’t an action setup is full-on harem trash, and Chained Soldier lays it on thick, right down to full-on nudity. Nothing about this show resembles high art, but I can’t help but admire such a high level of commitment to its aesthetic, including the sleaze. It fully commits to the bit and doesn’t even bother lampshading its own trashiness. Chained Soldier knows what it’s about, and I respect that. It also has the good sense not to sexualize the youngest girl, which is a point in its favor that I can’t award a couple other shows previously discussed.

And while this show is plenty fun, the action sequences often excellent, and the character designs usually delightful, there’s not actually a whole lot going on here. As I said with Mashle, I know that battle manga like this can take a minute to really get cooking, and as I said with Witch and the Beast, 12 episodes may not always be a sufficient runtime to adapt enough to break ground, but the debut season feels more like a proof of concept than anything else. That being said, Chained Soldier’s manga has a very effusive audience, and its praises don’t seem to entirely be about the boobs and butts, so I’ll wait patiently for the second season. I think it’s earned that much.

Delicious in Dungeon

This is the one I’m having the hardest time writing about because it so confidently and so completely speaks for itself that anything I could add would feel like scattering sawdust at the beach. Dungeon Meshi (I refuse to call it by its official English title) is a widely beloved manga among those who’ve read it, and for Studio Trigger to do an honest-to-goodness manga adaptation for the first time might as well be front page news among anime fans. 

The story follows Laios, the deeply weird human hero, as he delves back into a bizarre and mysterious dungeon to rescue his sister Falin from the belly of a dragon, along with his misfit party: The neurotic half-elven mage Marcille, the temperamental halfling rogue Chilchuck, and the dwarven warrior-slash-chef Senshi. The party is frequently low on supplies, so to survive the trip they’ll need to subsist on the most abundant resource in the dungeon: Monsters. Senshi’s aptitude in the kitchen helps ensure that everything is edible and sufficiently tasty, regardless of how nasty the monster it came from may have been. With monster obstructions out of the way and their bellies filled, our party delves deeper into the dungeon as the mysteries deepen in kind.

I love the character dynamics in this so goddamn much. Marcille and Chilchuck are frequently put off by the dubious monster food presented to them, but their consternation is worsened by the fact that Laios’ fascination with the monsters it came from annoys the shit out of them. I referred to him as “deeply weird,” but that doesn’t begin to describe his absolute galaxy brain, and I mean it as a term of endearment. Laios is deeply knowledgeable and curious about the fauna in the dungeon, and not just how they taste: He is vocally curious about how certain monster attacks may feel, sings along with siren songs, and even keeps a hardcover bestiary inside his breastplate. He’s one of those people you turn to if you have a question on a hyperspecific subject, but you have to be careful how you ask it or else you’re trapped for the next two hours. And I love him for it.

Even putting the comedy aside, there is a fascinating human element at play in Dungeon Meshi, and I can tell that that surface has barely even been scratched yet. Marcille is just as dogged in her pursuit of saving Falin as Laios is, maybe even moreso (remember what I keep saying about LGBT representation this season?). Chilchuck continues to convince himself that he’s only in the job for his own personal gain, but you can see that mask slipping. And I still wanna know what Senshi’s deal is. Even with the five major players I listed, there’s an increasingly deep roster surrounding them—showcasing a broad spectrum of races and ethnicities, both real and fantastical—each with their own histories and motivations, and I cannot wait to see how they play out and interact with one another. There seem to be much deeper themes at play here as well as we learn more about perceptions and grudges between differing races, oppositional magics, clashing ideologies, and the monetary incentives that drive both the dungeon’s exploration and its very existence. I’m here for it.

I’ve been holding off on reading the manga until the season is up in June (though I could crack any day), but I know a loving adaptation when I see one. Not that Trigger ever slacks off in the animation department, but they absolutely brought their A-game here. Everyone looks bouncy and cartoony in the way only Trigger can pull off while still looking as close as possible to Ryoko Kui’s source material (as far as I can tell). As with Frieren, the action sequences aren’t frequent, nor are they entirely what the show is about, but they look incredible every single time. And the food, of course, looks incredible, no matter how weird. This is practically a cooking anime and a fantasy dungeon anime at the same time, and both aspects are visually on point at all times.

I’m obviously speaking from my own bubble as one of the six people who still use Tumblr in 2024, but I rarely see new anime make a splash like this on social media every single week, and the ones that I do are usually the monster shonen hits like Chainsaw Man or Jujutsu Kaisen. Dungeon Meshi deserves the exposure and success it’s attained, and I’m excited to see it continue. I’d easily slot this right up there with Bravern as one of the best new anime of the season.

A Sign of Affection

I’ve seen a hell of a lot of shonen slice-of-life romances in the past year and change, so a nice fluffy shoujo like this was an excellent palate cleanser. There were a hell of a lot of Big Action Setpieces and panicky teens and grim dungeon crawlers this season, and at the end of the week I wanted to unwind with a bunch of pretty twenty-somethings falling in love with each other.

The show centers on Yuki, a young woman living with congenital hearing loss, making do at a public college after growing up at a school for the deaf. Though she’s able to get by with LINE messages and lip reading, she’s unprepared when a foreigner asks for help, but she’s saved by a handsome and mysterious young man named Itsuomi. He’s able to help out, and takes an interest in her when he realizes his fellow undergrad is deaf, and Yuki takes an interest in kind because he’s really goddamn hot. It turns out that he’s a polyglot and an avid world-traveler, but sign language is not in his purview. This mutual interest sparks the concern of her childhood friend, Oushi, one of the few people in her life who already use sign language, who wants to be sure that nothing untoward is happening. And it isn’t, because this is just a really lovely, low-stakes romance story.

This is pure, unfiltered shoujo at its best. Yuki’s internal monologue is peppered with flowery prose, and everything and everyone looks soft and beautiful. Fashionable, doe-eyed women and pillowy-lipped ikemen abound (seriously, holy shit, the lips on these boys) as the scope widens and the main love interests’ friends explore their own possible love stories. Itsuomi is very much of the “mysterious boy” archetype you’ll find in romance stories in this demographic, but he’s not hiding any sort of dark past like you’d typically expect; he’s just an interesting guy who keeps his personal life close to the vest. He’s a self-appointed world citizen who loves learning about how people of all cultures live their lives, and in Yuki he sees someone within his home turf who happens to live in her own world entirely. And it’s easy to see his forward behavior with Yuki as infantilizing at first (Oushi sure does, and I’ll get back to him in a second), but as they grow closer Itsuomi quickly becomes much more considerate of her boundaries and learns to accommodate her as he studies sign language and gestures that help ensure her comfort. This is a story about Yuki’s horizons broadening just as much as it is about Itsuomi wanting to be let into Yuki’s narrow world, and that sort of synergy makes for some exceptional romance.

A Sign of Affection deserves some credit for refusing to shy away from Yuki’s disability and making a point of depicting her world as one that does little to accommodate her. Very few people in her daily life ever bothered to learn sign language, she relies on a friend to take notes during lectures, and work is hard to come by. It’s an honest depiction that makes an effort not to be exploitative, which is a breath of fresh air. Not only that, but there’s some interesting meta-commentary in there: The only major conflict in the story stems from Oushi’s jealousy, and his reservations about Itsuomi possibly “taking advantage of” Yuki almost feel like he believes that he’s the only one who knows what’s best for her just because he’s done the bare minimum to accommodate her. He thinks he’s coming from a good place, but he winds up accidentally infantilizing her in exactly the way he thinks Itsuomi might. That’s a particularly interesting bit of irony!

I’ve seen enough shonen-oriented romcoms where an unassuming Regular Guy gets flustered as a way-too-casual girl pushes his buttons (hell, I’ve already reviewed two of those this season), so it’s nice to see the formula flipped for a shoujo as Yuki and her best friend Rin blush and squee over Itsuomi and his coworker Kyouya, respectively. A Sign of Affection isn’t afraid to get a little silly with it, either; plenty of these moments are punctuated by characters’ faces going low-detail or full chibi, and they are cute as shit every single time.

This one was just cozy as hell. If you’re into this sort of thing, swaddle yourself in it and bask.

Solo Leveling

I let this one collect dust after the third episode and didn’t pick it back up until the season was almost up, and honestly, I was kinda dreading it: The trailers didn’t look too promising, the show was slow to start, and it looked like yet another derivative JRPG-style dungeon crawler that managed to get popular. Turns out, nah, this show actually kinda fucks and the web novel series and webtoon it’s based on are popular for a reason. The story is nothing special, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a perfectly serviceable turn-your-brain-off action spectacle with a bit more lying beneath the surface.

In a modern-day South Korea where portals to mysterious dungeons open up and threaten the populace, those who can brave the dungeons, known as hunters, are an invaluable human resource. Once someone is assigned a grade as a hunter, they have that grade for life, barring some rare occurrences. Sung Jinwoo is at the lowest rung on that ladder as an E-rank, incapable of improvement, assigned the epithet “the weakest hunter of all mankind.” He mostly shows up to portal raids as a warm body to fill a quota, and one such job goes haywire as most of the raid party, Jinwoo included, is brutally slaughtered in an arcane secondary dungeon within a portal. He somehow wakes up in a hospital, unharmed, and able to access a digital menu before his eyes that exhorts him to do the One Punch Man workout every day, lest he incur punishment. He gets hilariously chadly in the span of a few days in the hospital, including an inexplicable haircut, and finds access to dungeons only he can enter and levels up within this new system.

This one gets off to a slow start and may have benefited from a longer premiere like Oshi no Ko or Frieren, but once the table is fully set, Solo Leveling really starts to cook. Jinwoo’s titular leveling process is a blast from one fight to the next, and as he moves to work in the dungeons that other hunters can access, it turns out he’s been training with the weights on. He’s suddenly fighting way above his pay grade, and after staving off attacks from hunters taking advantage of portals for nefarious ends, he is recruited by an ambitious corporate scion to make some real coin and establish an independent association of hunters.

While it can feel like there’s a whole bunch of table-setting between portal sequences, it’s some smart worldbuilding on Solo Leveling’s end to establish how portal hunting became a central pillar of this society, and doubly so how political and capitalist interests can leave a wide berth for corruption and bad actors. If there’s money to be made in hunting, of course people will find ways to make even more at the expense of others, both at the corporate and individual levels. There’s a lot of talk in there about “survival of the fittest” and “natural selection” and that… makes me nervous.

Those are terms that can be used to justify immoral actions in the name of money, sure, but Jinwoo also uses them to justify his own process. To what end is he constantly improving himself? Sure, he's doing what he can to provide for his younger sister and their ailing mother, but I see less and less humanity in him as this goes on. There are constant hints at something far more sinister at play than just a dude getting stronger for himself, not the least of which being “the system,” the UI that implores him to keep taking on these “quests.” Something, or someone, seems to be guiding him. Whenever another hunter turns on Jinwoo, of course his self-defense instincts kick in, but system pop-ups instruct him to defeat X number of hostiles like it’s a normal video game scenario. There’s something eerily depersonalized about these encounters, despite them being full-on mortal combat, that gives me serious Ender’s Game vibes. Consider me intrigued.

I’d heard that the Solo Leveling manhwa’s main draw was its visuals, and though I had my doubts early on, I'm sold now. This is a pretty solid presentation! Hiroyuki Sawano turned in yet another banger soundtrack to punctuate all the action setpieces, helping to stitch together a fairly complete tapestry. Said setpieces are exhilarating and almost impressively bloody, and while the animation is nothing impressive in the day-to-day, it goes absolutely batshit when the gloves come off. Movement is inhumanly fluid and the visuals can go into the same loose, psychedelic territories we’ve seen in the likes of Mob Psycho and the second season of Jujutsu Kaisen. If this is the new meta for shonen action, I’m not complaining.

By all rights, this is a pretty decent show, but if I’m being honest, this one just hasn’t stuck with me much. And that’s fine! Sometimes I just wanna see some nutty action stuff and move on with my day. Solo Leveling hits that spot perfectly, and I'll be right back there when it returns for its next season.

‘Tis Time for “Torture,” Princess

I was surprised to learn that the gag manga this is based on, with such a seemingly simple premise, has been running for well over 200 chapters and counting. As the anime progressed, I was far more pleasantly surprised to learn that it actually works.

In a standard anime fantasy world where the forces of good are fighting the demonic Hellhorde, an unnamed warrior princess and her talking enchanted sword are taken prisoner and subjected to torture as they’re squeezed for intel. Said “torture,” as the title’s scare quotes would suggest, is mildly unconventional, as the demon baddie inquisitor, aptly named Torture Tortura, attempts to ply the princess by presenting her with tantalizingly delicious-looking food that she can only partake in if she coughs up some info. Naturally, the princess caves every single time, but her intel is often inane and useless, so the “torture” continues. It’s not all food, though: The princess is soon held out of arm’s reach of adorable baby animals by a gyaru beastgirl, pampered into submission by a spa-loving giantess, and is faced with a tsundere vampire faildaughter, who… tries. 

And you’d think that would be it; the joke wears thin and you move onto something else. Before you realize it, though, something’s changed: The princess and her captors are quickly becoming friends. The premise almost feels perfunctory: These inquisitors are actual people just doing their jobs, and whatever happens after the princess’ myriad confessions is fair game. There’s no malice or animosity, even during the “torture” sessions themselves: Everyone will have a blast and grow closer as friends, and then the princess will voluntarily go back to her bedless cell. It’s like Sam and Ralph after they clock out, except they’re almost always off the clock. Everyone is genuinely looking out for each other in all directions, and the only thing that keeps the torture going is the need for a status quo to return to, even as it grows more elastic. If anything, Time for "Torture" is a good example of committing to the bit without having to necessarily rely on it.

The real irony in all of this is that it becomes increasingly apparent that the princess is having her needs met in captivity far better than she ever did back home. In her proud proclamations about how she’ll never cave to the temptations before her (shortly before she does just that), the princess often talks about her upbringing and her time as the head of an imperial legion, but these stories often betray her lack of friendship or any of the little things that make life worth living. Her life as royalty was one of isolation and deprivation, to the point where she finds more freedom and fulfillment as a prisoner. She truly lives in a society.

Hellholm, on the other hand, has a surprisingly healthy approach to things like work-life balance, food, and leisure, and its most valuable prisoner is no exception. The Hell-Lord himself is a surprising exemplar of this; for as much as he looks and talks like your standard terrifying JRPG demon king, he’s a surprisingly good dude! He looks after his family, employees, and even the captive princess as if they are all one and the same; he exhibits strong principles and an aversion to conflict, sees to his employees' needs and wants alike, and is a supportive, loving father to his unbelievably precious little daughter (who also serves as a “torturer,” to the princess’ delight). He’s also a big time anime dork, and even bonds with a knight attempting to rescue the princess over their shared otakudom before sending him off peacefully. As “villains” go, he’s top tier.

Time for "Torture" is nothing groundbreaking by any stretch, but it’s a cute, silly time and it plays with anime fantasy tropes in the same way a six-month-old German shepherd “plays” with a cheap stuffed toy. How long the premise holds up is entirely up to you, but I had a lot of fun with it. I have no idea how this ended up being one of the better shows this season, but I guess it just scratched the right itch for me.

[digenerate-trash]

Merry Christmas! Sorry to add to the Bailey pile but could we get a drabble about yan Bailey hiring/ paying Whitney to bully and isolate the PC thinking it will draw them closer but Bailey immediately regretting the arrangement once they realize Whitney is into you? Idk a lot about DOL but I love your Bailey writing so much <3 <3 love your whole blog, this smut gets me through a lot <3

Gonna say. This and the idea that brutality Harper pays Whitney to fuck you up is my favorite "gross man doesn't realize that the violent freak is also in love with you" thing and I fucking need that. So here you go!!! 

AMAB Bailey | AMAB Whitney | GN PC. 

Started as a precaution. Just to keep an eye on you at school he promised Robin he'd knock a 100 bucks off his debt every week if he reported back to Bailey and kept an eye on you. But Robin was useless... always has been. 

So instead he went to your tormentor. And when Whitney sat in his office ready to tell the old man to fuck himself to his surprise Bailey didn't want him to stop. He wanted to make it worse. And Bailey was willing to pay to make it happen.

Simple job Bailey thought. Rough you up. Make isolate you. Keep you constantly running from school to home. Then report back. It's an easy job. There's no way even a meathead with a smoking habit could fuck it up. 

The first few weeks went great. Whitney kept a surprisingly detailed account of your humiliation. He even brought Bailey little trophies from his outings. Homework you could never hand in before Whitney stole it. Personal items. Keys. Even your underwear once.

Whitney was such a diligent little monster that Bailey was starting to take a liking to him. He might even be smarter than he leads on. But things shifted. 

Whitney was still all over you the torment never stopped and the reports came in every week like they should but... you weren't as.... upset. You'd changed a bit. Something shifted and Whitney wasn't giving him any clue as to what that might be.

That is until he found the padlock in your room broken one night. And when Bailey slammed open the door to make sure you hadn't left. Instead, he found the delinquent over you. 

Pressing his teeth into your soft flesh marking you up and holding your hips to his as he thrusted into you. His rings cut the skin on your hips. 

you shouted in surprise and tried to push Whitney off of you but he just bit down harder pulling you close. You know Whitney doesn't mind showing off but this was a little too far for you.

Bailey grabbed Whitney by the hair yanking him off of you you shrieked as Whitney's teeth cut your skin causing you to bleed.

Bailey was furious as he tried to grab Whitney to beat him but Whitney was just a bit faster. Grinning with blood in his teeth not looking for a fight with the old man. He'd already declared war after all. Whitney flees the orphanage still smirking to himself.

Bailey hates that. He hates that he let this monster get so close to what's his. He hates that he let this happen on his watch. He was so careful. But he trusted a deliquent and that was his fault. 

He pulls you from your bed and back to his room. He throws you in the tub before he starts to scrub you down washing off every little touch that Whitney left on you. The water is frigid but Bailey doesn't care. You deserve it for betraying him. And you won't be leaving his sight till he deals with Whitney.

Permanently.

[h-sleepingirl]

On Double Binds (A Hypnokinky Article by sleepingirl)

Many are familiar with the concept of “double binds” either inside or outside of the hypnosis world – even if not by name. There is the well-known example of something like, “Would you like to do this now, or later?” which highlights one aspect of double binds – creating the illusion of choice between two options while underplaying any others. However, as we’ll explore, double binds and binds in general are both more complex and more broad than is described by a “this or that” sentence.

In this essay, we’ll aim to explore double binds in depth – including their origins, the various perspectives on their applications, and examples of how to be versatile with them – to further our use of them as hypnokinksters. Let’s explore.

Who?

Within the framework of hypnosis, language, NLP, and other fields, there is a fascinating amount of overlap, not only in content, but in the key players involved therein. It is ideal to discuss these topics with the context of who was involved and what the cultural climate was surrounding them instead of in a vacuum.

Gregory Bateson was the first person to introduce the idea of a double bind while investigating language and communication in patients with schizophrenia. (He did this along with colleagues such as Jay Haley, author of “Uncommon Therapy”, an oft-cited book analyzing the techniques of Milton Erickson.) What they theorized in their paper, “Toward a Theory of Schizophrenia” (1956) was that schizophrenic individuals have a difficult time discerning choice both inside and outside of situations involving double binds, and that double binds occur frequently in the family environment of a schizophrenic patient, potentially contributing to the development of the disorder. Also in the paper was extensive discussion of the “ingredients” of double binds, according to the authors – including conversation of Erickson’s therapeutic use of them, how people tend to respond in various scenarios, and the framework of communication that they fit into.

Bateson is one of these “key players” in the “canon” of the body of hypnosis knowledge. He wrote the introduction to “The Structure of Magic, Vol. I: A Book About Language and Therapy” (1975) – the very first book that Richard Bandler and John Grinder put out in their soon-to-be extensive series on Neuro-Linguistic Programming. In fact, looking back to the origins of NLP and where it first began formulating at University of California, Santa Cruz, Bateson was a professor who had close contact with Bandler – an eager student interested in Gestalt therapy – and Grinder – the professor specializing in linguistics. Both of them drew upon Bateson’s body of work when formulating the beginnings of NLP, and Bateson ended up being the person who introduced the two of them to Erickson.

While NLP is a goldmine of history and good referential leads, it has an unfortunate (and ironic) habit of distorting the information and terms that it borrows. “NLP double binds,” for example, differ from “Bateson double binds,” and in the hypnokink world we take blindly from both sources. It’s prudent for us to strive to understand some about NLP to glean information on where many of our hypnotic habits come from, and it does provide a valuable context of how to analyze them, including in this case with binds.

NLP

NLP – especially early NLP – has an interesting method of breaking down chunks of “flawed” communication and acknowledging both how they can negatively impact someone and how they can be used to the operator’s advantage in inducing trance or change. The former is called the “Meta model” and lists various therapeutic challenges to problematic thought patterns. For example, someone might say, “My partner doesn’t care about me,” and NLP says to ask, “How do you know that? What have they done to show that?” to recover the “missing information,” which is referred to as “Deletion” in the Meta model. On the flipside, the “Milton model” (referring to THAT Milton) says that you can use Deletions to your advantage – for example, saying, “You can feel it much stronger now, can’t you?” where both the object of the sentence, “it,” and the comparison word, “stronger,” are left purposefully vague and without index to allow the subject to fill in the blanks themselves.

This is a very simplified and incomplete discussion of both the Meta and Milton models, but the key here is to understand double binds in a similar fashion – from one perspective, they are a hindrance and can be challenged, and from another, they can be utilized purposefully to obtain results. Some descriptions of NLP include binds as part of these models, while others break binds down into the simple communication chunks given by the Meta and Milton models.

Ingredients of Double Binds

To fully be able to utilize double binds, we must move past the model of them as simple “this or that” phrases. Let’s discuss them broadly to understand how they apply in both everyday situations as well as hypnotically. We will compare and contrast “Bateson double binds” with “NLP double binds”.

According to Bateson, double binds:

Require two or more people, one of whom is being acted upon by the other(s) who somehow have influence, authority, or superiority over the subject

 A classic example is parent to child, but even child to parent is possible if the parent feels like they do not have control or authority over the situation

Often give a not-unfamiliar experience of being stuck in a dilemma, especially in the case of them being problematic

Bateson places high value on the idea that in the context of someone’s life, the double bind is not a single experience and thus can’t be resolved as such; the person experiences the feeling of being stuck as patterns or habits

Have a “primary injunction”: they create a sense that there is a “right” thing to do, and if the subject doesn’t perform, they will be “punished” (whether verbally, by withdrawal of attention, cultural stigma, etc)

This is often cited as having two possibilities: “Don’t do this, or I’ll punish you” and “If you don’t do this, I’ll punish you” – perhaps an example might be a boss telling an employee that they need to finish a project by the end of the day; the punishment if they don’t is implied

Have a “secondary” and sometimes “tertiary injunction”: conflicting with the initial message, they create a sense that even if they fulfil the original requirements of the situation, there is no way to do it that doesn’t also fail some other aspect of it

Continuing the above example, the boss gives the employee extra work and expresses something like, “This isn’t punishment, it’s acknowledgment of your skill” – the employee may be overworked, but the only way to avoid more work is to go against the initial premise of, “Do the work or you will be punished”

May exist outside the scope of these clear guidelines if the subject often feels like their world is full of double binds and “no-win” scenarios

Bateson describes part of this in terms of the relationship between people – there is an “important” relationship that the subject doesn’t want to jeopardize and simultaneously feels unable to communicate on the paradoxical or uncomfortable nature of the situation or messages

May differ from the exact feeling of being “stuck between a rock and a hard place” in that the subject may have difficulty discerning the nature of the bind or what is preventing them from acting

For example, in a situation where there is an unspoken rule not to question a parent, and the child witnesses a parent doing something wrong, the child may feel paralyzed but not understand why

Certainly, Bateson’s focus is on double binds that impede the individual in some way, and this description of binds might be new to those of us that only are familiar with binds from a hypnotic level. In Bateson’s binds, as well, the entire scenario and environment that exists is a large focus to how the bind works – circumstantial double binds, or double binds where the “injunctions” (conflicts) are entirely nonverbal.

But Bateson does, in the original paper, talk about double binds in a therapeutic context, in fact referencing Milton Erickson and hypnosis. Here is an excerpt:

Another Erickson experiment (12) seems to isolate a double bind communicational sequence without the specific use of hypnosis. Erickson arranged a seminar so as to have a young chain smoker sit next to him and to be without cigarettes; other participants were briefed on what to do. All was ordered so that Erickson repeatedly turned to offer the young man a cigarette but was always interrupted by a question from someone so that he turned away “inadvertently” withdrawing the cigarettes from the young man’s reach. Later another participant asked this young man if he had received the cigarette from Dr. Erickson. He replied, “What cigarette?”, showed clearly that he had forgotten the whole sequence, and even refused a cigarette offered by another member, saying that he was too interested in the seminar discussion to smoke. This young man seems to us to be in an experimental situation paralleling the schizophrenic’s double bind situation with mother: An important relationship, contradictory messages (here of giving and taking away), and comment blocked–because there was a seminar going on, and anyway it was all “inadvertent.” And note the similar outcome: Amnesia for the double bind sequence and reversal from “He doesn’t give” to “I don’t want.”

The situation in this case is considered by Bateson and colleagues to be a double bind, as the necessary ingredients are present and the scenario itself creates the bind. There is another interesting comment as well, that the “amnesia” is a somewhat expected response. What Bateson is referring to here is the way that people may deal with feeling bound – not necessarily literal loss of memory, but change in perception of the event. The subject of a double bind is often mentally struggling to parse the situation, which may manifest in a variety of different ways, depending on their perspective and how aware they are of all of the aspects of the bind. The specific feeling of being trapped seems to be the hallmark of binds, in Bateson’s theory – that is what he and his colleagues were studying.

Bateson says this is a non-hypnotic example, but it is interesting to think about whether Erickson would agree with that assessment, or if we as hypnokinksters would, considering our broad perspective on mind play in general. We only have Bateson’s account here, but perhaps it is worth investigating about what it means to feel “stuck” in a situation that is hard to discern, rolling something over in one’s mind, changing focus between internal and external – all very hypnotic patterns. But while this is something we’ll explore more in depth, this is not really the kind of double bind we’re familiar with from the hypnosis world – so let’s dive into where that version of them really comes from: NLP.

According to NLP, double binds:

Are often a question, using the word “or”

“Are you ready to go deeper, or are you ready for something more intense?”

Offer a real or perceived choice between two options while explicitly downplaying or not mentioning any others

“Would you like to talk about this now, or after dinner?” – no choice offered to not have the conversation, or have it on a later day

Have potential to be rejected if they are not true binds

The subject may see other options and choose to circumvent the original offer – in the previous example, “Can it wait until tomorrow?”

Often are meant to facilitate one outcome chosen by the operator, even though the subject is apparently given a choice

“Do you want a quick trance or a long trance?” – the outcome is that trance is going to happen in both cases

Can be “unconscious” or ambiguous – framed in such a way that the answer to the question is not truly consciously answerable

“I wonder if your feet will go into trance before your head, or vice versa…” – this can be emphasized by changing the perspective of the sentence, “I” vs “you”, “I wonder…” vs “Do you think…”, or other verbal markers such as “Who knows if…”

Often are composed with other aspects of the Milton model

“You’ll be a great subject if you listen really carefully, or if you let my suggestions float in unnoticed…” – the use of “if/then” is indicative of causal thinking, which is a standard part of the Milton model, also presuppositions

Here we see the common habit of NLP in its natural environment: the “borrowing” of a term and concept well-established in psychology, and distorting it. Sometimes this sort-of-infamous NLP distortion renders the result useless, but there are certainly cases (such as this one) where the theory and practice that comes of it is worth thinking about, understanding, and finding ways to use. This is the “double bind” that most of us are familiar with – a single expression ranging from simple to complex which attempts to garner one outcome through the false offering of choice. We know now that this is very distinct from Bateson’s binds, in many ways, with a notable exception in that both Bateson and NLP reference Milton Erickson as being masterful with them. We will compare, contrast, and attempt to reconcile the two, but first let’s talk a little more about NLP binds in hypnosis.

The term “double bind” seems to beg the question, “Are there other forms of binds?” The answer is yes. The classic example, “Would you like to go into trance now, or later?” is a double bind. If we remove one of the options, we’re left with, “Would you like to go into trance now?” This is a theoretical “single” bind, because upon the subject responding positively, they’ve “bound” themselves to a course of action or thought. Oftentimes, binds overlap with other NLP artifacts, such as being part of a “yes set” or being part of Milton model language patterns. For example, “Do you think that going deeper into trance like you are right now means that I’m weakening your will?” binds a “yes” response to the cause/effect of them subjectively feeling more submissive or controlled by you. Of course, we can add options as well, and come up with a “triple” or “quadruple” bind – “Would you like to go into trance now, or later, or would you like me to choose?”

NLP binds are about having a general goal in mind and being able to break it down into multiple scenarios to offer which lead to that goal. If the goal is to get someone to go into trance, you can think about the various aspects of that situation – what position they can be in (“Would you prefer going deep sitting up or laying down?”), when it’s going to happen (“…immediately or in a moment?”), parts of their body (“…eyes open or closed?”, “…hands in your lap or hanging down?”), what else is involved (“…staring at a watch or a spiral?”), how they are feeling (“…excited or pleasantly nervous?”, “…aroused or too deep to be turned on?”), what they are thinking about (“…focused on my voice or my eyes?”, “…listening harder with your left ear or your right ear?”), and many, many other options that have to do with all of the different variables. This could be about the environment, who is involved, what you’re doing, and much more.

Compare, Contrast, Reconcile (Applications)

In this section, we’ll take what we’ve learned about these two distinct types of binds and see where they are similar, where they differ, and where they can be spliced.

Choice and/or No Choice

One of the major differences between these two forms of double binds is that in Bateson’s, the sense of being trapped is important to the bind itself, while NLP seems to emphasize an aspect of sneakiness – you don’t necessarily want the subject to know there are other options, if there are any, and the goal is for the subject to feel like they are making a choice themselves. But an NLP bind can also be a Bateson bind, for example, in a situation where a hypnotist asks a subject, “Are you ready for me to fuck up your mind, now, or do you need a break?” and the subject blushingly responds that now is good, but the hypnotist does not immediately signal to them that they are doing hypnosis. The subject is left unsure – is hypnosis happening, or not? Likely they don’t want to ask to clarify or push. This leads to a variety of possible responses – perhaps the feeling of hypnosis becomes ambiguous, and the act of the subject continuously checking internally and wondering if trance has happened becomes hypnotic. The sneaky hypnotist can take advantage of this.

This feeling of being trapped in paradox is evident in the reverse of this as well – the common trope of the hypnotist saying, “Don’t go into trance…” while swinging a pocketwatch or otherwise signalling trance. The subject is unsure how to respond. In hypnokink, there should never be risk of real punishment or disappointment from a dilemma like this, so it is more of a playful version of Bateson’s bind than a true version of one, but it is one that we can explore. Any situation where you create incongruent messages and expectations fits – trying to get a bimbo to act smart, a scenario where the subject is told not to orgasm but it’s unclear what the “punishment” would be for disobeying, telling someone that it’s dangerous to brainwash themselves but rewarding each step in that direction.

You can conceptualize it like this: A Bateson bind is a scenario where there is no perceived correct response, and an NLP bind is a scenario where all perceived responses are correct. Once we understand the usefulness of both, we can freely intermingle and make decisions about which to choose.

Implications

Another place that we can marry the two effectively is taking into account Bateson’s focus on the personal history, environment, and mindset of the subject as essential to a double bind. In many of his examples, the bind comes partially as a product of these things – in a scenario of a potentially unhealthy relationship, one partner may express to the other, “If you loved me, I wouldn’t have to ask you to do this.” This is a classic Bateson double bind – the partner clearly must do the thing they are being asked to do, but by doing so, they fulfil the conditions that the first partner laid out as meaning that they don’t love them. Perhaps, in this case, there is a history of the first partner asking for certain things to be done – they themselves are in a pattern where they expect the second partner to never follow through, thus never giving them a chance to “prove them wrong.” This unspoken part of the bind that exists – as well as any others, such as the theoretical second partner’s childhood being filled with nagging parents – is just as important as the verbal construction of the bind.

We can apply this knowledge to the NLP double bind by reducing the verbal aspects of binds, and leave them implied. For example, in the case of two partners on a video call together with limited time, the hypnotist may allude to the fact that they are going to do trance (“Well, gotta fuck your shit up at some point…”) which leaves the subject to wonder when it’s going to happen. (As discussed previously, not immediately acting upon the statement or changing the subject away from trance can create the Bateson bind.) The hypnotist may ask, “How badly do you want it?” which presupposes that there is a desire as well as urgency. The “hidden” option is the response of “I don’t want it,” which is not explicitly downplayed, but considering the context (unless the subject is going for bratty) the answer will usually be somewhere on the scale from “kinda badly” to “really badly.” In general, we should strive to be aware of our partners’ thought patterns and personal history in order to better utilize it, as well as striving to be able to create patter that doesn’t sound like it came out of an NLP manual.

The Hypnokink Bind

There is a sort of third perspective on double binds here – the perspective of us as erotic hypnotists, where we almost expect our partners to understand when we are binding them, because that’s part of the fun. Not every hypnokinky subject at every time will key into when a bind is happening, but many will recognize the classic NLP pattern, and this is something we need to keep in mind as hypnotists. Often, we’re able to tell by their response, whether it’s a knowing smile or a furrowing brow. The bind in this case becomes fully voluntary – it is no less of a “bind,” but we should examine our motivations for using them and how we can adapt to a situation where a bind is fully informed and consented to, even appreciated.

In the case of a subject who knows the bind is happening, perhaps one option is to bind even more fully – in “The Brainwashing Book,” we talked about the idea of “traps” and how we can make our suggestions and language encompassing in a way that there is no available “failure” response. Continuing the example, instead of simply saying, “Would you like to go into trance now, or later?” we could say something like, “Do you think your desire to go into trance affects whether you notice it happening immediately, or in a little while, or even if it slips past your awareness?” A few things are at play here. There is a meta-question about the real question – a “yes” or “no” response to whether they think their desire matters doesn’t affect the presupposition that trance is going to happen. In fact, this presupposition isn’t challenged even by the subject wondering about noticing or not noticing anymore. Whichever response they have – feeling trance now, feeling trance later, or not feeling trance at all – is covered by the original question. There may even be some confusion and struggling to parse, which fits inside the Bateson bind: Stuck between various options, especially for someone who is trying to analyze, not sure if there is a “right” answer, and the feeling that they’re unable to properly challenge it as it happens.

Depending on the situation – if this is a verbal back-and-forth, or if the subject is not verbally responsive in trance – there are options to continue the bind as suggestive patter (“…And I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I enjoy wondering about it, and maybe you’d like to enjoy wondering with me, going back and forth with just easy curiosity about how you will respond to trance this time and how your internal thoughts affect it…”) or even to bind further, adding in more restrictions and “steering” the subject how you’d like them to go (“…You should decide: Is it important to you to consider this, or is it something that you can just let go of?”).

Collapsing the Bind

There is a final aspect to binds that we must consider as something useful – what happens if or when the bind is released? In the case of the subject being unsure if they are supposed to be in trance or not, the clarity of the hypnotist explicitly releasing the bind is something that we universally know is freeing. Think about similar examples in hypnosis – “confusion” or “overload” inductions such as the 7+/-2 are popular and effective because of the contrast between the subject’s mind racing and the sudden, clear instruction.

Similarly, this applies to both NLP binds and Bateson binds. In a Bateson bind, it’s especially clear; the paralysis and paradox is the nature of the bind. In NLP, we have to analyze the situation a little more. When giving options, such as, “Do you think you’ll be completely mindless, or keep enough of yourself to watch your own brain fade away?” we can think about how to create a sense of punctuation or closure with it. It is perfectly fine as-is, but it allows us a choice to move from ambiguous to clear. This could certainly be as simple as saying, “I think you’ll go back and forth, feeling your own consciousness slip through your fingers…”, which shifts focus from the subject wondering internally to the clear thoughts of the hypnotist. It breaks the bind, not necessarily by choosing one option or the other (although that is certainly an option) but by building upon it while moving to a space where the hypnotist calls the shots.

The other aspect to this is about timing. In “The Brainwashing Book”, we talk about the format of a scene as a series of peaks and valleys, and the motivation of us as intimate partners to seek climactic moments and be aware of the flow of play. Collapsing a bind can certainly be a climactic moment such as this – it can be the induction of trance, the change between focal points, the gaining of permission for something, or more. We should always be attentive of how to build tension and enjoyment, looking for these peaks and valleys in the body language and verbal language of our partners. If we see our partner struggling with paradox, for example, unsure of whether or not they are in trance, we can purposefully add to it (perhaps by goading, “Are you, or aren’t you? Hmm?”) and watch carefully – does their breathing change, is there a moment where they look like they may crack? Perhaps one option to build and peak is by snapping your fingers to bring them out, so they have an intense moment of, “Oh, I must have been – and oh, I wish I still was –” and then almost immediately dropping them back down.

–

In Conclusion

I hope you enjoyed this writing – it is good as a standalone but there is so much more to say as all of these topics are so entwined. This particular article will likely be adapted into a couple chapters for my next book, which will be on NLP for hypnokinksters, so please consider this a sneak peek into that project – speaking of which, if you liked this and haven’t checked out “The Brainwashing Book,” I encourage you to see for yourself!

The other reason for me writing this is to show what I can put out in terms of shortish-form educational content. I am looking into making more writings like this in a scheduled, monetized format like Patreon – they take a lot of time and effort (probably about 12 hours here of writing, organizing, research, etc!) and I believe that I have a LOT to offer in terms of knowledge to share, especially intermediate or advanced material like this.

It is possible-to-likely that I will have to shift my focus for a little while off of my current job because of COVID-19, so I want to get this started early! If this was interesting or enjoyable to you, please share it, and let me know if these articles are something you’d find worth paying a few bucks for per month (while having input to the topics I write about), or purchasing them at a small cost one-by-one, or something else.

If you REALLY REALLY like this RIGHT NOW and you want to tip, here you go: https://ko-fi.com/sleepingirl

Thanks so much!

–

Bibliography:

Bandler, R., & Grinder, J. (1975). The Structure of Magic I: A Book About Language and Therapy. Palo Alto, CA: Science and Behavior Books.

Bateson, G., Jackson, D. D., Haley, J., & Weakland, J. (1956). Toward a Theory of Schizophrenia. Personality and Social Systems., 172–187. doi: 10.1037/11302-016

Jones, A. (2008, October 7). Binds, Double Binds and Unconscious Double Binds – Part One. Retrieved from http://communicatingexcellence.com/binds-double-binds-and-unconscious-double-binds-part-one/

Lankton, S. R., & Lankton, C. H. (2014). The Answer Within: A Clinical Framework of Ericksonian Hypnotherapy. Routledge.

Roffman, A. E. (2008). Men are Grass: Bateson, Erickson, Utilization and Metaphor. American Journal of Clinical Hypnosis, 50(3). doi: 10.1080/00029157.2008.10401627

sleepingirl. (2019). The Brainwashing Book: Hypnotic, Erotic Behaviorism and Beyond. Kindle Direct Publishing.

Yudkowsky, B. (2016, May 17). Beware the Bind. Retrieved from http://agentyduck.blogspot.com/2016/05/beware-bind.html

[hyunjilicious]

A/n: I'm low-key terrified because I never wrote anything like this before... 🥺 so I hope it doesn't suck? Thanks for the request @hommoturttle I hope its ok!

Summary: just sex. And breeding kink. SMUT 1.6K

Warnings: smut, some dirty talk, the tiniest bit of degradation, breeding kink obvi and some possessive Bucky. 18+ please!! (also idk about you but this gif does ✨things✨ to me - like.. Mr Barnes, stick whatever you want wherever you wantksksksk ok I'm done 🥲)

It would happen after a mission that you went on without him. No matter how used he is to going away and putting himself in danger, his brain refuses to accept that that's your job too. He gets crazy worried, sweats through most of the nights that you're not there to sleep on his chest, snaps at everyone that tells him to calm down, and counts the days until you're back. He's usually able to stand the distance, but not in these scenarios. He always ends up missing you like you've been gone for months, but the way the night you're back unfolds, makes up for everything.

No amount of cuddling, sweet nothings or showers together could possibly make up for the time away like the frantic rounds of sex you always go through as soon as you get back do. And it's always the same, he's on top of you, hovering above your body as his eyes never leave your frame. He wants to see every detail, every inch of your face, every feature that he loves so much. 

It starts crazy and it ends even more so. Foreplay is long forgotten, everything you get is him throwing you on the bed and ripping every piece of clothing that stands in his way. And it's more than enough, the pure need and hunger in his manic blue eyes, has the power to drive you insane in record time.

You're a squirming, wet and needy mess by the time he has you naked on his bed, hands clawing up to him. "Come on, Bucky, I need you"

And it drives him up the walls too. He hates the belt that slows him down, and his shirts never make it out intact. 

Biting down hard on his lower lip as his need gets the best of him, Bucky's breathing passes the threshold of obscene, his buffed chest heaving as he can't help himself.

"Come here, doll" he finally rasps, his voice low and grave as his jeans fall to the floor.

In a moment, he's on top of you, his legs lodged in between yours. Every touch is amplified by the wait and the feeling of his rough hands on your waist is mind-blowing. You squirm under his touch, trying to wiggle your way closer to him.

"Missed me too, huh?" Bucky grins proudly, gently but sternly grabbing your chin. His thumb rubs along your jawline, his teeth showing as he can't hide his enthusiasm.

"Yes-" you breathe out, melting under his touch. "Missed you so much, Buck."

"Need me?" he keeps teasing, lowering himself so that his lips reach the side of your neck. At first, it's his hot breath that you allow yourself to get drunk on, but when his teeth lewdly sink into your skin, you yelp, your thighs involuntarily closing around his hips.

And you can tell he takes pride in the responses he gets from you. You're sure he feels the goosebumps up your arms, or the way your rib cage shakes with every breath you take. But he keeps going, his greedy hands exploring your naked body, taking your breasts into his palms as he keeps on sucking claim marks into your neck.

"Fuck, Bucky-" you moan, back arching. His lips and his fingers are already too much for you to take, but when the tip of his cock brushes against your thigh, you're all but done. 

"Tell me you need me, doll" he hums, pushing himself up on his left arm. The mattress dips under the weight of his metal hand, and as you look between your bodies, your eyes land on the way he's eagerly fisting his cock in his right hand. You're caged in his hold, and it's the only thing you want.

"You're all I need, Bucky" you cry, your hands softly roaming up his chest. His hair had fallen around his face, framing his features and offering them the required amount of shadow needed to accentuate his carnal desire. Bottom lip wet and lodged between his teeth, he watches you closely, waiting for more.

"Bucky, please-" you continue, uselessly shaking your hips from side to side. "I'm already so wet, I'm such a mess for you sometimes. Just use me, do whatever you want with me, I just need to feel you, Bucky. Deep inside me, please"

He shakes his head in disbelief, hints of bitter laughter escaping his lips. "Such a needy, little thing" he muttered to himself.

With your mind clouded and busy enjoying the build-up, when the tip of his cock connectes to your folds, your eyes snap wide. Your reaction brings a proud grin to Bucky’s lips, but this is just the beginning.

Giving you no time to adjust whatsoever, he slams himself into you, bottoming out as you feel your breath cut short. "Fuck, fuck-" you pant, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself.

"Be good for me, doll, ok?" Bucky groans against your ear. His body is right on top of yours, fully rocking you against the mattress with every deep and powerful thrust of his hips. "You need to take all of me"

You can feel him up into your chest, your pleasure materializing in the form of tears, coating your eyes for just a short second before running down your temples. 

"Buck-" you cry.

"I'm gonna fill you up, baby" he grunts, holding onto your shoulders as he shoves himself deeper. "Deep inside your belly, yeah? Gonna feel me for days"

And you're not that close yet, your brain isn't yet drowning in hormones, so you can think straight, you can form a decent answer - but you refuse to. You just squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth, sucking the pleasure his cock forced into your body. Every vein is palpable, your walls closing in around him as if his size isn't already a tad bit more than you'd normally find comfortable. But you love it, he's there, as close as he can get, consuming himself right there with you.

"Fuck-" Bucky grunts, his metal fingers wrapping around the roots of your hair. It's unwashed - a weeks worth of sweat embedded into its fibers but he doesn't care. He only sees you. "I missed you so fucking bad, doll-"

"I'm here, baby-" you coo, your words shaky and barely audible.

You don't know if he heard you, or if he even processed your sentence, he's too caught up.

"You're mine - you're here with me, only mine-" he adds, fervently sucking away at the skin of your neck. "My baby, my angel, mine-" he grunts, emphasising his last word with the help of a ravaging thrust that shakes you to your core.

You cry out, his name burning your throat as you feel him ripping your insides apart.

"Bucky- Buck- I-"

"So sweet-" he cuts you off, moving his head to the other side of your neck. "And only fucking mine. Say it-" he demands.

"I'm-" you gasp, "I'm yours, only yours"

"All mine"

You faintly nod along, vision blurry as you start to lose yourself.

"Say it!" Bucky adds.

"I'm all yours"

"Say it again"

"I'm... all- all yours, Bucky" you manage to mutter before a pleasure filled whine erupts from your throat. "I'm getting close… Bucky, I can't-"

"Easy now-" he moans, slowing down his pace. He comes face to face with you, his damp lips sloppily pressing against yours. He's still balls deep inside your cunt, making the gentle movement of his hips almost unbearable.

Eventually, he slowly tilts your head to the side, burying his face into your hair as he whispers against your ear, "I'm gonna pump you full, yeah? Gonna fill this sweet cunt with my cum, and you, like the good little slut you are, are not gonna let any of it go waste, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Gonna use that pretty cunt of yours to milk my cock dry, yeah?"

You whimper and nodd, frantically trying to get him to pick up his pace. But he isn't having it. When he finally pulls out at that agonisingly slow pace, he captures your lips into another kiss as he slams himself back in.

"Come on, Bucky, fill me up" you cried, involuntarily pulling breaking the kiss, "I wanna feel you inside me"

"Oh, you're gonna feel me inside you alright" he taunted, repeating his movements and pulling all the way out before forcing himself all the way back in. "A little bit of me inside you-" he growls and thrusts again, deeper and harder, "Growing inside you-"

"Holy- fuck!" you screamed, throwing your head back.

"Mine forever, doll-" Bucky grunts, both of you dangerously close the edge, "Yeah?"

"Mhm-" you hum, whiny and all teary eyed with your lips gathered between your teeth.

And then you're all but done - legs tightly wrapped around his middle - every muscle of your body clenching uncontrollably as a spiral of pleasure engulfs your body. And Bucky isn't far behind, your name being the only thing on his lips as he shoots his load deep inside your pussy - careless and irregular, a few last thrusts until he crashes down on top of you.

Although out of breath, as the last waves of your orgasm propagate along your body, you still cling to him. Bucky's face is hidden against your shoulder as he struggles to come down from his high, none of you willing to move even an inch.

"I'm never pulling out" he jokes, and it takes all the energy you have left inside your body to chuckle along.

"Wouldn't ask you to" you laugh, "But you're crushing me so-"

With a grunt, but still with impeccable ease, Bucky wraps his arms around your middle and spins the two of you around, until he's laying on his back with you against his chest. 

"There-" he shrugs placing a kiss on the top of your head, "Problem solved"

[bowelfly]

Hey, would it be okay to print out some of your art for my personal enjoyment? More than willing to leave a nice tip on paypal, kofi or something, if possible? big fan of the mothman drinking from a bottle. Or if you have redbubble or something, would love to buy a print of course!

hey! yeah that's totally fine by me. i just moved to a new state which has so far cost me over $5000 so i certainly wouldn't turn my nose up at a few bucks from kind strangers. i do have a kofi if you wanna make your own prints and throw me some scratch in compensation, or you can buy from my redbubble, which has both prints and stickers, and will likely be of much higher resolution than what you'd be able to make from a jpg downloaded from tumblr

eventually it'd be nice to make and sell my own prints and stickers since redbubble takes like a 85% cut or something ridiculous like that so unless you get one of the fancy framed prints i'll only end up getting a few bucks at most, but i doubt that'll be anytime soon since i don't have the time, energy, or equipment to do that currently

also in the meantime if theres any art of mine anyone wants as a sticker or print or whatever that's not on there, just let me know

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter fourteen - “pinky promise”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.1k

synopsis: bucky and the reader reconvene after the events of the previous night, figuring out what they need to do from there. pinky promises are endearing but they don’t prevent the effects of distressed regret & emotional frustration.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

She awoke with wet regret staining her cheeks. She remembered falling asleep with shame, liquid guilt seeping out of her eyes. Slowly and silently weeping herself to sleep while drunk. What a colossal fucking mistake she made. She felt terrible, and she could only imagine how Bucky felt. She needed to apologize. Immediately.

She found that her shoes were still on when she got out of bed.

"Oh, Christ," she huffed at her messiness.

Regardless, she grabbed a jacket for protection from the chilly Wakandan morning air before rushing to the door, determined to find Bucky as soon as possible and apologize profusely for the previous night.

She opened the door but before she could dash out, she smacked directly into what felt like hard wood. Wait, no. The "hard wood" was a chest, and that chest belonged to a person... it was Bucky. Damn it.

"Sorry!" the two exclaimed simultaneously.

They both backed up.

"Y/N..."

"Bucky."

"Can we talk?"

"Yes. Please."

They awkwardly made their way into the room, eventually sitting side by side on the end of her bed. The air was quiet and void of their usual content and lighthearted atmosphere. Both of them sat staring straight forward.

"Bucky, I... I am so sorry about last night. I know being drunk isn't an excuse for being unprofessional, but I really have no other explanation as to why I'd ever do something so inappropriate. I feel awful and I can't imagine how uncomfortable I've made you. I will completely understand if you don't want to work with me anymore. I can talk to Shuri or T'Challa and we can find someone else to take my place if—"

"Woah," he turned to her, slightly alarmed. "Slow down, slow down. Who said anything about replacing you?"

"Well, I just thought after...last night, you'd rather have someone else work with you. It probably wouldn't be wise to continue treatment with me after certain... professional boundaries have been damaged."

"I'm not working with anyone else."

She looked at him bewildered, but he looked dead serious.

Y/N shook her head. "I—"

"Look, I'm not a therapist and I don't know the criteria of your 'professional boundaries'... But you were drunk. It happens. I don't think any less of you because you had a little too much. Believe me, I've been there."

"I know, but it's not necessarily the drinking that was the problem. It was... my actions."

"Right. And I don't think leaning a couple inches is really grounds for leaving Wakanda."

It was more than just "leaning a couple inches," and she knew that. She was humiliated by her drunken errors, but it was seductively dizzying to be that close to him. In the moment, she relished in every second, every atom of hers that was touching him. However, it was the afterthought that was the problem, the realization of what she had done and how wrong it was.

"Bucky..."

"I'm not working with anyone else."

"I'm not the only good therapist, you know."

"But you're my therapist. I don't want a new one."

"And I don't want to disrupt your progress, but there's no way I can keep treating you after last night."

"Why not? What's gonna happen if you do? Nothing."

"It's not that simple."

"Nobody was here. No one knows but us. There's no way you can get into trouble."

"It's not entirely about getting in trouble. It's about the nature of our relationship and how that change can impact how effectively and ethically I can treat you."

He was quiet for a minute, thinking.

He shook his head, looking down at his feet. "We can work something out..."

"I don't think so, Buck..."

"So you're just gonna leave then?"

"I think that's what needs to happen."

He turned his head to her, making deliberate eye contact.

"Y/N, please."

"All I wanna do is do right by you, and I can't do that after I've compromised our relationship."

"But you didn't compromise—"

"Bucky," she exasperated, "Can you please try to understand?"

"Can you please try not to be so hasty about things? Our relationship is fine. You don't need to leave."

Stubborn. He was being stubborn. But, all she could see was strong will and passion. That was the problem. All his faults morphed into aptitudes when they filtered through her perception.

"I really care about you, Buck. I just want you to have access to the help you need, and as much as I hate to say it, I don't know if I can be that help anymore."

"Can't we just try?"

"Try what?"

"Just... hear me out. We can continue the sessions as if nothing happened, and if everything is fine, then great, but if not, then you can go."

Is that what it would take for him to be okay with her leaving? Is that what it would take to make her departure less of a complete upheaval? There was no way this would work, she thought. But what were the lengths to which she would go to make the transition smoother? Was she willing to make sacrifices to help ease his hardships? She reflected for a minute.

For him, she would. For him, she considered, she'd do most anything.

"Okay," she said after brief contemplation. "We can try. But you have to keep in mind, the entire time, that I still might have to leave in the end."

He smiled, sincerity almost suffocating her. "Thank you."

"Promise me you won't be disappointed if I end up having to leave."

"You want a pinky, blood oath, or spit shake?" he asked, jokingly.

"Bucky," Y/N deadpanned.

"Well, it's not like we need to promise, because you won't have to leave... 'cause everything will be fine."

God, she hoped so.

"Promise me anyway. Just in case."

"Fine. I promise. You have my word."

She held out her hand to him, pinky finger raised high.

"Make it official."

"You know I was kidding?" he asked.

"I know. But you brought it up, so now you're payin' the price," she smiled, feeling herself momentarily slipping back into their dynamic. "Officially promise me with your pinky, James."

In acquiescence, he lifted his hand up to hers, pinky extended, and wrapped their fingers together. As it turned out, her hand had desires of its own and begged for additional contact. It yearned to smooth over the skin of Bucky's hand and press their palms together. Her hand wanted to intertwine the rest of their fingers and hold on ever so tightly. It wanted to hold on and never leave Wakanda, never leave his side.

As it also turned out, the hand is not the mind. These were surely not Y/N thoughts. Definitely not... Desires were kept repressed and no actions were taken. Sorry hand.

Their fingers stayed connected for just a few brief seconds of silence. Not nearly long enough for it to be awkward or for them to get second thoughts about the integrity of their agreement. Their fingers disconnected.

"So..." Bucky started, "are things gonna be weird now? With us?"

"They don't have to be, but I guess it depends."

"On what?"

"I don't know. Whether you're upset with me over what happened - which you have every right to be."

"Upset with you? No! Not at all. It seems like you're more upset than I ever was."

"I'm only upset because of what I did!"

"Well, I'm only upset because you're upset, so... stop being upset."

"I-..." she sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. Are we good?"

"You don't have anything to be sorry for..."

"Just say we're good."

She let out a nervous laugh.

"Fine, we're good. I'm just surprised at how you're so cool with this."

"Well, friends bounce back quick, right?"

Her demeanor changed. The mood sunk.

"Bucky..."

"No, no. Don't sit there and tell me that now we aren't friends. You just pinky swore with me," he said with a meek smile, attempting to lift her mood back up. "C'mon, that counts for something."

She looked down at her hands, suddenly missing the skin-to-skin contact. "I just think it might be better to be more professional and less... personal."

"Better for who exactly? 'Cause I know it wouldn't be for me."

She turned her head to look at him, face earnest and contrite. He only looked confused and a little mentally disheveled.

"I want to make this new... plan thing work. If you don't want me to have to leave, we have to reinstate some sort of boundaries, Buck."

"So boundaries means throwing away being friends?"

"I'm not throwing it away. I want to make sure we can be successful, and to be successful we have to be a little more..." she took a breath in, hating how much she kept bringing up this word, "professional. We gotta have more good days than bad, you know?"

A few beats of silence passed them by. Bucky's expression softened to a dangerous level of sincerity.

"I think you are my good days..."

Y/N tore her gaze away. She couldn't do this. She wished he wouldn't say such gentle things; she was trying so hard. The tension in her heart began to frustrate her. And it was because of him. She wished her emotions weren't always so escalated in his proximity.

"How long were you outside for?" she changed the subject.

"All night."

"What?!"

"Just kidding. Only for a couple minutes. Why are you changing the subject?"

"I'm not."

"You really are. And you're uneasy."

Trying to deny feelings was harder when someone else called them out.

"Stop trying to analyze me."

"M'not analyzing. I'm just reading you."

Reading her?

"Reading me?"

"Yeah. You were looking at me, but now you turned away. You're bouncing your leg but otherwise you're completely still, tense, like you are when you're nervous. You're also turned away from me... kinda like you don't wanna be near me."

Yeah, because her heart felt like it was going to burst.

She stood up, walking away from him and his infuriating correctness. How dare he know her like that? Anger bubbled in her stomach. She faced him, arms crossed over her chest, as if shielding herself from his prying efforts to understand her personality. How dare he decipher her.

"Really?" she huffed, amped up nervousness morphing into irritation. "You barely slept last night, and it's not just noticeable because of the bags under your eyes. You do this thing when you're tired - you blink really slowly and then rub your eyes. It's subtle. How's that for reading? Oh, and you're more uncomfortable about having one arm than you let on. When you sit next to me, you always make sure to sit so that your arm is on my side. In fact, you're so bad at tolerating uncomfortable that you refuse to even think about getting a new therapist - even though it's the right thing to do - because you don't want to deal with the change."

She took a breath after expelling her vexation. Bucky stared at her with wide eyes, never before hearing her angry, much less at him.

"That's not why..." he all but whispered.

"You know I can tell when you're lying, right?"

"Apparently not," he rolled his eyes. "And I thought we made a deal."

"I think you should leave."

He looked up at her. "Y/N.."

She turned away from him, deciding she couldn't handle looking him in the eyes.

Glancing at the door, she muttered, "I'll see you at our next session."

"But— I thought..."

"A deal's a deal. I'll see you, Bucky."

The room was eerily silent until Bucky decided to move. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for something, anything out of her. Perhaps she was hasty, but there was no room for second thoughts, second emotions. She completely steeled herself. Feeling around him was just... a lot. A lot to deal with. Maybe too much.

"Okay," he said, voice quiet. "I'll see you... I guess."

With that, he left. He left her in an empty room with empty feelings and an empty hand. She looked down at that hand, the very same one that wrapped its finger around his in the lighthearted simplicity of a juvenile gesture. Joy with Bucky was like that - simple. Being happy was effortless with him. Yet, it was so troublesome to be displeased with him. She could sense another distressed night sleep coming her way.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lauxrens @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @quxxnxfhxll @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @buckys1thiccbih @maravderofthephoenix

[honeybrulee]

Sacrifices

Jean x Reader

Summary: When Jean is knocked unconscious during a scouting expedition you make the decision to risk your life in a desperate attempt to save him

The blue smoke from the flare signalling the scouts to retreat billowed its haunting message across the sky. Whatever had happened, whatever state the scouts ahead of you and Jean was, it wasn't good, and that was all the information you had to rely on in that moment.

The two of you, at the very back of the formation, dug your knees into your horses to push them ahead, silently sharing a look of uneasiness at the situation. For conditions that required a retreat signal from the commander your surroundings were quiet. Too quiet.

"What do you think's going on?" Jean called, raising his voice slightly so that it would carry across to you over the sound of pounding hooves.

"No idea, but I don't like this. Something doesn't seem right. We need to regroup with the others as quick as we can."

Jean nodded sharply in agreement before spurring on his horse, leaning into its neck.

However, as per usual, your gut feeling proved itself to be right. Before you could even get near any of the others, the ground you rode on began to shake with the familiar heavy footfall of your enemies.

Turning to look behind you, you notice five titans approaching rapidly, eyes focused on you and Jean.

One of them was gaining more rapidly than the others- an abnormal. Not leaving anywhere near enough time for you to send off a flare in hopes that nearby scouts would notice your predicament, the abnormal lunged for Jean, sending him hurtling off his horse with a yelp and across the planes of land.

"Jean!" you cried out, veering your mount in his direction. Your concern grew as he remained motionless, splayed out unnaturally on the grass. You knew you needed to be fast, the abnormal pulling itself from its stomach to it's feet again.

You called out his name again as you rushed to him, but still only silence answered your call. You couldn't let Jean die- not before you had the chance to confess your feelings to him.

The two of you had been friends ever since enlisting for the scouts, and you had only grown closer and closer over the years. Countless nights spent in his company under the moon left you with a sense of longing in your heart, one which only worsened upon your observation of the way the man gazed at Mikasa. Regardless of whether your friend shared your feelings or not, you still couldn't leave him to die so carelessly at the hands of a titan.

Sliding off the saddle of your horse once you reach him you realise there's no chance of getting him back on his own horse, the poor creature having been crushed under the stomach of the abnormal when it lunged for him.

With haste, you scoop Jean up in your arms, grunting as you use all your strength to settle him on top of your steed. With every second you spent adjusting him the abnormal was once again gaining on you, a hunter ready to crush and consume its prey, and the other four regular titans weren't far behind. Your eyes pricked with tears at the wave of hopelessness that washed over you. No. This wasn't the time for those sort of thoughts. You had to pull this off - for Jean.

Jean. You observed the way his limp unconscious body slumped against your horses neck, blood flowing steadily from his nose and the corners of his lips and the areas around his eyes already beginning to bruise.

You had two choices. Get on the horse with Jean and try to outrun the titans- unlikely. That held the risk of neither of you surviving, the abnormal was too fast, you'd be overwhelmed before you made it so much as thirty metres. Option two, however, secured Jean's safety, and you already found yourself choosing that one with not even a second of thought regarding the repercussions for you. You would secure Jean to the horse, send it off in the direction of the others and pray they noticed him and took care of him. You, meanwhile, would remain behind, distract the titans from Jean and bring their attention to you. That was the one.

You lifted the reins, throwing them over Jean's body and tying them to the back of his belt, making sure it was tight enough for him not to fall. Scratches from the coarse earth littered his skin, and you couldn't resist the urge to lean in and press one tender kiss against his cheek. A goodbye kiss perhaps, maybe selfish on your part, maybe a waste of precious time- but you could take one moment to be selfish for yourself. You would earn it.

With one last look at Jean you nudged the side of your horse, sending it galloping off ahead with your friend secured to its back. Your heart clenched in desperation, begging whatever gods might be out there to deliver him safely to the scouts as you stood and watched him disappear into the distance.

The abnormal was right behind you now, letting out a throaty screech before lunging violently at you the same way it had to Jean. You quickly sank the hooks of your ODM gear into a nearby tree, pulling you sharply in its direction and out of the grasp of the titan. The trees were only short and were sparse, nowhere near high enough to give you any advantage over the abnormal but as long as you could remain out of its clutch you could manage until somebody noticed and came to help you. If somebody noticed.

Meanwhile, a few miles ahead, the scouts were regrouping, taking headcounts and waiting for as many survivors as they could gather to join them.

"Sir! Someones approaching on the horizon! Only a single rider!" a scout called out, alerting Levi and Erwin.

"Who is it?" another spoke, attempting to focus their eyes on the face of their approaching comrade. Things changed however, when they noticed that the rider was slumped over unconscious.

"It's Jean," Armin wailed, "and he doesn't look conscious!"

As the horse flew in their direction Captain Levi prepared to stop it, standing just to the side of its path so that he could grab the reins and haul it in. And that's what he did, the horse bucking and squealing in a frenzy.

"It seems like he's tied to the horse by the reins. And that's definitely not his horse, either," Eren evaluated, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

Mikasa spoke next. "Whoever was with Jean must have tied him up like this so that he could escape while unconscious. But surely that means they must have been protecting Jean from something, else they'd be on the horse with him."

"Y/N! She was the one who was out there with him!" Armin came to the realisation, making the others murmur and gasp. You had made many friends within the scout regiment, always easy to get along with and willing to spend time with and care for your teammates, so your death would not go down easily.

Erwin furrowed his brows, thinking about his next actions carefully. If what they were theorising was true, he couldn't just leave members of his regiment to suffer a needless death at the hands of titans.

"Very well then," he spoke clearly, gaining the attention of the others. "Captain Levi, you will go with Eren, Mikasa and Armin to locate their missing teammate. I will lead the others back to the walls, join us when you have determined her fate. I will also see to it that Kirschtein is escorted safely to the walls."

With a nod, they departed, Erwin assigning two scouts to ride either side of Jean's unconscious body on your horse. The others galloped in the direction they had seen Jean come from, and it wasn't long before they found you. You looked weak from exertion, trying with every fibre of your strength to fight off the abnormal and the four regular titans. Three of the normal titans lay dead on the ground, the napes of their necks steaming in defeat. Now you were flying in endless circles around the abnormal and one remaining titan, barely missing their clutch each time they swung at you with meaty fists.

No matter how hard you tried, exhaustion would always find a way to catch up with you. After endless swinging, leaping and the intense focus it required to have kept yourself alive this long in your situation you were growing weary, the strength draining from your body, and before you knew it you were being squeezed horifically tight in the fist of the abnormal. The large titan opened its gaping mouth, blunt teeth exposed and ready to crush you. You yelled, using what little strength remained to squirm as hard as you could manage but to no avail. The creature's grip was too tight, and as it began lifting you into its mouth you found yourself squinting your eyes tight shut and sobbing.

You reminded yourself that this was for Jean, that you were doing this to save his life, but the thought of him only made you cry harder.

"'M, sorry, Jean. I love you," you whimpered breathlessly.

However, just as you prepared yourself to be bitten in half, the sound of ODM gear engaging caught your ears. You gasped in shock, and a small part of you began building hope again. The next thing you knew you were falling from the titan's fist towards the floor, the beast's nape having been sliced. Before you could meet the ground you were snatched up by someone. You didn't know who, however, as the relief you felt mixed with your exhaustion, leading to you falling into unconsciousness as you knew you were finally in safe hands.

You had done it. You had saved Jean and survived. They had come to get you.

___

When you regained consciousness you were safely tucked into your own bed back at the barracks. You tried to sit up but immediately fell back down and groaned at the sharp pain that wracked you. Your ribs, they must have been broken by how hard that titan had been holding you. The titan- Jean. Where was he? Was he okay? What if the scouts hadn't found him and he was still out there somewhere all alone. He'd be dead by now for sure if he hadn't met back with them. Had you unknowingly sent him to his death?

But before you had the chance to work yourself into a frenzy, all of your questions were answered in one.

"You're awake!" A frantic gasp from your bedside. Jean.

Tears sprung to your eyes. He really had survived and had made it home safe.

"Woah, woah, woah, you idiot, sit still. And what are you crying for?" he exclaimed.

"You're alive!" you rasped, throat raw.

"Yes, but the question is why? Why would you ever do that for me? Huh? Sacrifice your whole life, send me off to safety and leave yourself to be torn apart by titans for my sake? Why the fuck would you ever do that you idiot?" Jean was practically shouting, his voice shaking and wild.

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes to avoid him.

"Well? Don't just close your eyes! I need to know why you would ever do something so stupid. Risk something so precious just for me!"

You felt your heart pounding, heat rising to your cheeks. He couldn't ask you something like that.

"Do you really need to ask?" you spoke quietly, still not strong enough to speak at a regular volume.

"Yes! I really fucking do need to ask."

"Think about it, Jean. You don't actually need me to answer that for you. You'll only make a fool of me." you pried your eyes open, looking up into his in the hopes that he would get your message and wouldn't make you go through the pain of being rejected, of being told that he only had eyes for Mikasa.

"You're already a fool for doing what you did. You should have left me to die. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you, especially if the reason for your loss was me." Jean's angry facade broke, the man falling to his knees at your bedside and sobbing into the back of your hand.

"That's exactly why I did it, Jean. I don't know what I'd do without you either, and in that moment your entire life was in my hands so I did what I could to preserve it. Call me all the names you want, and maybe it was stupid, but I couldn't care less. I'd do it a thousand times over if it meant being able to see you alive and healthy every day. If you're really going to make me say it, fine, I'll say it. I love you, Jean. I have for years. I love the way you always panic over me when I get so much as a papercut; I love the way you let me lean on you and sleep on your shoulder when we're out scouting overnight; I love the way you make me laugh with your dumb jokes every day; and how you hold me when I'm sad and don't leave until you see me smile. I love you, Jean. Is that what you wanted to hear? And I know you only have eyes for Mikasa. I do- believe me, but there it is. The truth. The reason I did what I did. And like I said, I'd do it all over again. I don't expect you to say anything back, I already know you're not interested. Now please, just leave and spare me the embarassment of being rejected by the person I love."

Jean froze, dumbfounded. His eyes were wide and glued to your face, at the pained and heartbroken expression you held. All this time and you'd thought he'd never wanted you? Thought that he wanted Mikasa? Slowly, shakily, he got up from his knees and moved to sit on the mattress by your hip. You turned your face from him, avoiding his eyes.

"You truly believe I don't feel the same way?" his voice shook as he spoke.

Your eyes widened, and you automatically turned your head back in his direction to detect from his face if he was lying or not.

"You really think that I'd be this upset over anyone else doing what you did? You think I panic when you get hurt because we're just friends? You think my heart doesn't feel like it's going to beat out of my chest when you fall asleep against me? That I tell you all of my dumbest jokes just to keep a teammate entertained and that I hold you when you cry because I don't like seeing a friend upset? You really believe that. I do it all because I love you. Always have, ever since the day I met you. And Mikasa? That was a childish crush, never anything more. I've never felt for anyone the way I do for you. When I woke up back at the barracks I was so confused. The last thing I remembered was riding back to the commander with you when some titans appeared. I thought you were dead, Y/N. The others only knew I was conscious again because I screamed at the thought of you being dead and in the stomach of some damn titan while I was tucked up in bed, healthy and alive. And when Eren told me what really happened? I was furious. Furious at you for putting my life over yours, but even more furious at myself for letting that happen in the first place. I always make sure we're stationed together for the exact purpose of protecting you. I'd die for you, Y/N. And I know how hypocritical that sounds but gods I love you, my sweet girl. I don't know how I'd live without seeing that beautiful smile every day. I love you."

Tears brimmed at your waterline at his words, the breath leaving your lungs.

"You really mean that?" you gazed up at him, not daring to break the eye contact you had established.

"More than I've ever meant anything in my life," he reassured. Jean sighed, reaching to brush a strand of hair from in front of your eyes. His hand slid down to your cheek, thumb swiping over it and wiping away the escaping tears.

Slowly, ever so carefully so as not to hurt your battered body, Jean leaned down, resting his forearm at the side of your head for balance.

"Can I kiss you?" he almost whispered, eyes blinking slowly.

"Please," you sighed, heart pounding when he closed the distance and complied with your plea.

His lips swept against yours with every care in the world as the two of you exchanged your pent up emotion without words. And as Jean held you that night safe in his arms, as he spent hours pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, cheeks, jaw, nose, lips- the two of you felt your hearts melding together, becoming one synchronous unit. He had you now, and you had him, and neither of you planned on ever letting go. You were in it now and forever.

[agentlemuse]

Dea!!! I am so in love with your Buddie the old guard fic I've read it so many times now I LOVE IT could you maybe write a little sequel to it with Eddie whitnessing Buck dying and coming back to life for the first time! No pressure obvs but you'd make me super happy! thanks again for writing the buddie old guard au fic ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!

Hayley I am so sorry for making you wait!

Also on AO3

“How much are you willing to wager,” Hen challenges, her own stack of bills being dropped on the table like a declaration of war.

Chim eyes everyone carefully, emptying out all the money in his wallet with a confident pop of his gum. “I’m all in. Buck?”

“All in. Eddie?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on! It’s tradition,” Buck begs, practically pouting as he tries to get Eddie to join in on the bet. He refuses every time and every time Buck acts surprised.

“Pretty sure the only tradition here is them getting all of your money,” Eddie points out with a smirk, earning a sharp laugh from Athena.

“You are too young to be this lame,” Buck sighs dramatically as Eddie rolls his eyes. He might be lame, but at least he will keep his money.

Just like that Hen is crowing as Buck laments his defeat. He looks to him with wide eyes in hopes of sympathy but all Eddie can do is laugh. He did warn him.

Athena and Bobby were chuckling fondly from their spot in the corner, speaking to each other without saying a word as they do often do. After one night of partaking in too much of Hen’s sangria he asked Buck if they had developed telepathic powers and Buck laughed so hard he snorted red wine out his nose. Considering their immortal status he didn’t think it was quite that funny, but Buck disagreed.

Looking at them now he still says it was a valid question.

“Okay everyone listen up,” Athena announces, drawing the attention of everyone with the simple command. “We have some news.”

“New job,” Buck asks eagerly, already wanting to speed ahead.

Bobby and Athena share a sad look and for the first time since Eddie has known them they look like they’re struggling to find the words to say. Athena stands, picking at a scab on her arm.

A scab.

She shouldn’t have a—

“I’m mortal.”

It’s funny how you can live for a millennia and a single moment can still knock you to your knees.

Athena could still have three, maybe even four, decades with them, but suddenly each moment is finite. He knew this was possible, Buck had told him about Abby, but it wasn’t real until now.

He may not know her as well as the others; hasn’t watched dynasties rise and fall with her, but she’s his family now. He foolishly thought he’d have more time before saying goodbye to family again.

But it’s not about him. It’s about Athena. It’s about the people who have loved her for centuries trying to wrap their minds around life without her.

Eddie doesn’t know much about Buck’s parents, partly because there isn’t much worth remembering from the way Buck tells it, but Athena is his mother for all intents and purposes. Now that she’s - not vulnerable (she’d stab him for even thinking it) - mortal, Buck has been like an overprotective mother hen. Athena has looked ready to strangle him on more than one occasion and he’s pretty sure the fussing is more likely to take years off her life than anything else.

And it’s sweet. Funny even, how Athena looks at him with such exasperated fondness.

Only that overprotectiveness makes a reckless Buck even more reckless.

Which, fine, Buck’s immortal. For now. Because that’s the thing, isn’t it? The idea that immortality just ends was hypothetical before now.

And Buck is—

Buck is—

Buck is his family. His person. The only reason he doesn’t spend this eternity of his lamenting every new day.

Buck has been on this earth for nearly a millennia without him, but Eddie doesn’t want to live without him. Not for a thousand years or a thousand days or even a thousand minutes. Not because he needs Buck, but because he wants him. He wants his kind eyes and infectious laughter beside his side. He wants the feel of his breath on the back of his neck as he lays curled in behind him. He’s not sure he can go back to sleeping alone.

A shame he’ll need roughly a thousand years to figure out a way to finally tell him, which is not going to happen with Buck being so eager to get himself killed.

Buck insists on throwing himself into danger, which means Eddie has to throw himself further. He’s younger, newer, he can take more hits. He knows logically that Buck must have died hundreds of times before him, but he hasn’t died since Eddie killed him. Maybe he can’t keep him alive forever, but he can certainly try.

Bobby catches on first.

“Nasty hit you took today.”

“I’ve had worse,” Eddie says nonchalantly, fingers flexing against a phantom wound long since healed. Buck stormed out earlier, pissed he jumped in front of a bullet for him only to bleed out slowly. Tonight Buck will hold him closer, making sure he’s still in one piece; a bittersweet ritual they’ve formed together. He’ll take the anger if it keeps Buck safe.

“You’ve been taking a lot of hits lately.”

“Saying I should work on my ducking skills?”

“Saying you can’t take them all,” Bobby replies, cutting off whatever comment he might be opening his mouth to say with a look. “When is the last time Buck died?”

“You should ask—“

“When?”

“When I shot him,” Eddie admits, jaw clenching.

“He’s had a good run, but good runs end. He knows what’s at stake just like everyone else. We can’t outrun the inevitable. You’ll drive yourself crazy if you try,” Bobby says softly, an unspoken pain behind his eyes. “Don’t miss out on the good worrying about the bad.”

“Wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t so eager to put himself in harm’s way,” Eddie deflects, no real malice in his words.

“Funny, that’s what Buck said about Athena.”

That was hardly the same. Buck is being reckless, Eddie is just—

Well it’s not like he can take care of him through his cooking, now can he?

The next few months they take it easy on the missions, focusing on time together as a family. It’s good, great even, but it’s only a matter of time before the world has a need for their set of skills.

Which is how they find themselves in this dimly lit warehouse in what is clearly a trap.

He and Buck have taken the front, trying to clear a path to the escape route so they can’t get pinned in. The sharp pops of bullets flood his ears, a fog of plaster dust filling the air as bullets lodge in walls instead of bone.

There are too many blind spots and not enough cover.

There’s shouting, cries of pain, but none of them familiar. They’re gaining ground, they’re getting out, they’re—

The sick sound of a bullet striking flesh, muscle, bone enters his ear. A spray of blood hits his cheek.

Eddie turns to see Buck crumple against the ground.

Suddenly there is no noise, no friends or foes. There was only Buck lifeless on the floor, his head a gaping wound of brain matter and skull.

He falls to his knees beside him, blood soaking his trousers as he reaches out to help him. Only, he doesn’t know how to fix this.

“Buck, wake up. Buck. Buck.” He doesn’t recognize his voice, doesn’t recognize the frantic panic of this strange sound coming out of his mouth.

He thinks of all those zombie movies he used to watch with his sisters when he was young. The only way to kill them was to take out the brain. They couldn’t come back from that. Buck couldn’t—

Eddie shot him in the head once, but this was different. There hadn’t been this hole. There hadn’t been brain matter scattered across the floor. Buck hadn’t taken this long to wake up.

He can’t do this without him. He doesn’t want to do this without him.

“Wake up, wake up, you have to wake up,” Eddie demands, then begs.

“Eddie, we have to keep going,” Chim says from across the room, providing cover from enemies he couldn’t care less about. “He’ll catch up.”

He ignores him. Of course he ignores him. He can’t leave Buck. He’s going to wake up, he has to, so why is it taking so long?

The team moves on, because there is no other choice if they want to get out of here, but Eddie doesn’t move. He waits for a sign of life, anything, but Buck stays perfectly still. He should be healing already, blue eyes fluttering and a smile on his lips. He shouldn’t be so still and pale under the stark stream of red.

He’s so lost waiting for puffs of air that aren’t coming he misses the footsteps behind him. It’s not until he feels rough hands grabbing at him that he remembers the fight. He feels a knife slide through his ribs as they try to drag him back. He thrashes wildly, scrambling for any weakness he can exploit. They’re not going to take him away from Buck. He’s not leaving him alone. He’s not—

A single shot rings out and the man Eddie was fighting falls.

Eddie turns back to Buck who is sitting up with a gun in hand.

Eddie scrambles over to him, pulling him close, feeling the side of his head to make sure he’s whole.

“Eddie, we need to catch up with the others,” Buck urges, already back in the game. How can he be so calm? How can he be so steady? “Eddie. Eddie.”

“Your birthmark grew back.”

Buck’s face grows soft for a moment, letting out a puff of breath like it was punched out of him. Eddie can feel the wound on his side healing, but he ignores it, busy feeling the pulse of Buck’s heartbeat where his hand rests on Buck’s neck.

“Eddie, we have to keep going.”

“You weren’t waking up. You took so long to wake up.”

“I’m here, Eddie,” Buck insists, resting his forehead warm and whole against Eddie’s. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you, okay? I won’t leave you. Now let’s go.”

Eddie goes with him because there is no other option. He doesn’t want to be anywhere without him.

It doesn’t doesn’t get any easier to watch him die, but Buck always comes back to him. He has to believe he always will.

[l1ana]

Imagine being able to hold Thors' hammer

Summary: Yeet, idfk I'm in a car thinking this up so yEAH—

———

You were the main one to usually tidy up after the messes that the rest of the avengers made in the tower; that included repairing destroyed parts of it. After all, it was the least you could do to repay Tony for letting you in as one of the family. Unfortunately, being let into the family also meant being the main target for idiot or cruel pranks cast upon you by the rest of the team. It was hard to get used to at first, but you eventually made way to accept that everyone were just as goofy and carefree on the inside as they were on the outside— They never meant you any harm.

Today was no different. Long story short: some idiot tried to attack the tower, lots of collateral damage to the tower, you going to clean up the tower. “[Name], you know I have money for a reason, right?” Tony asked, walking underneath the ladder you stood on with a coffee mug in hand. “Yeah but fixing things is my specialty. Consider it a second hobby besides helping you guys kick the shit out of bad guys.” “Language.” Steve groaned, relaxing into the couch. A smirk graced your face. “Figured you'd say that.” Tony took a seat at the dining room table.

“That guy was... Tough.” Clint exhaled an aggravated sigh. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Natasha added. “Are you all okay? I can fix you some cup of tea if you'd like.” You said, waving your hand upwards to have a multitude of tools make their way to the walls and initiated the cleanup. “No, no, [Name]. It's quite alright.” Bucky dismissed, still wondering how you could be in such a happy-go-lucky mood after what the hell just happened.

You reached your left hand downwards, expecting one of your tools to fly into hand. “Uhhh, I can't seem to find my hammer. Can someone get an extra from the closet?” At those words, an idea popped into a certain gods mind. Now he sure enough wasn't the mischievous type compared to his brother Loki, but Thor did enjoy teasing you as much as everyone else did. Clint stared at him with that knowing look in his eyes, fully aware of what the deity had in mind. It was quite obvious to everyone what Thor was thinking, and most of them groaned in dismay or laughed in agreement.

“You honestly can't find any other way to act smooth, can you?” Tony remarked with a sip of his drink. Unlike the others, the capabilities of Thors legendary hammer Mjolnir hadn't been leaked to you at all. And since you hadn't the slightest clue to whatever Thor was brainstorming, this only worked to his favor. “Of course he can't. The only way he knows how to is by telling his long tales of being a god and whatever.” Sam stated with a wave of his hand. To elaborate on what they were saying— Thor may have developed a small l̶a̶r̶g̶e̶ liking towards you. Just a little bit. But honestly, he wasn't the only one.

“You guys just can't leave the poor girl alone for one minute, can you?” Wanda laid back into the recliner while making said comment. “Hey, I'm not the one thinking it up.” Bruce waved his hands around in defense. “Nor am I.” Clint added before doubling with a, “But just in case, 30 bucks saying she'll hold it.” Que the loud and obviously ticked off groans from Steve. “That's a really low move,” He grumbled, throwing his left arm atop of his face. “..... 50 saying she will.”

Bucky threw a pillow at his companions stomach, scolding him for indulging in this idiot plan to make you swoon for Thor. “10 on her not holding it.” Until giving in himself for why not sakes.

Before they knew it, the team was all making quiet bets deciding whether or not your palm could properly wrap around the handle of the legendary hammer without falling. The good news if you couldn't hold it was that Thor could catch you —due to the weight of the hammer knocking you off balance and sending you quickly gravitating towards the floor— in one arm and his hammer in another, looking dashing and being seen in your eyes as ‘hero’. And even if you could hold it, to which he HIGHLY doubted, he'd be getting paid. It was a win-win on either side.

Snickers and moans, followed by a few discouraging comments courtesy of Sam, flew around as Thor aproached the ladder you stood at with Mjolnir behind his back. “[Name], I have the hammer you seek-” Once he turned his eyes up, he immediately dragged them back down to the floor with a crimson stroking his usual pale skin, not wanting to come off as ungentlemanly for staring at your rump. A cough came from his mouth as you opened a free hand and held it out, expecting the hammer to be set into your palm. “Thank you Thor.” Oh goodness your voice was like catnip to a catnip-starved street feline. He absolutely adored it with his entire heart and soul. Almost made him feel bad for what he was about to do. “E-ehem! You're deeply welcome, my dear [Name].” He said, pulling his weapon from behind him and holding it by the base, setting the handle within your palm. His head clocked back towards the team, who either gave a look of affirmation or one of disagreement to his action.

Thor sighed, his fingers releasing grip of the iron block and opening his arms out, ready to catch you.

Nothing happened.

It went dead silent in the tower, the only sound being you hammering the nail into the wall to finish hanging the picture. The amount of jaws that dropped was immesurable. Thor turned his head round to witness the shocked expressions written over his team mates faces. Oh yeah, they looked like all hell had been loose. Deciding to dart his gaze upwards to where they all directed their sights, he joined the rest of the avengers in this awestricken state.

There you were, twirling the hammer in your hand innocently as you wiped the sweat glands forming on your forehead. “There we go. Good as new.” You remarked with a chirp, pushing the picture frame to be straight and neat. You slid down the ladder as the tools fell back into your small toolbox, the top closing itself instinctively with a satisfying snap. “This is quite the odd modeling for a hammer. But nevertheless, thank you for the help. If I had moved, it might've been raining wrenches and iron bits, heh.” A gloved hand, your hand exactly, scratched the nape of your neck as you giggled nervously. Due to your close-eyed grin, you were unable to catch glimpse of Thors' undescribable expression that painted his face.

“I’ll get going to the outside now. Y-you all have fun!” With that you dashed through the living room on your way to the balcony, opening your eyes and taking notice of everyone's faces. “What's wrong? I can always lend an ear if need be.” You chuckled, leaving them all in wake of those words.

“She held it.” Clint was the first to speak up amongst the group, putting a wall between the quietness. “She actually held it.” His mouth was wide enough to stuff and entire pie in as he said that. “She actually held it.” Sam took a long hard stare at his drink, eyes furrowing. What the hell was in it? He wasn't drunk right now, right? Oh well, whatever was in it -or left in it- was gone, down his throat. Natasha just smirked in a know-it-all fashion, retorting “That's what you all get for underestimating the power of [Name],” “Aka the power of unrelenting kindness.” Wanda and Nat did a little fist bump. “Name's worthy... Totally didn't see that coming.” Steve said sarcastically with a smug look. He already foresaw the hammer within your threshold long ago after witnessing what a charismatic young lady you were, always willing to help whenever.

“See, this is the part where I wake up because I know I did not just let a 200 go to waste.” Tony said, pinching his cheeks. Everybody was stuck in conversation, dishing out surprised comments or bragging about the money they got simply from the bet. However, Thor wasn't making any comments at all. No gasps, no inhales, nothing. Just nothing. It was blatantly obvious that he was the most stunned of all. Bruce smirked. “What's the matter Thor? Someone finally picked up the claimed ‘unholdable’ hammer and now you're quiet?”

“To be honest, [Name] is probably the worthiest of us all.” Peter said. “I mean, she has a heart of gold. Literal gold.” He fawned over how much of a sweetheart you absolutely were. Pietro nodded in agreement. “She's a gracious girl with nothing but purity within her.”

It goes without saying that this whole idea of ‘worthy’ didn't define as much to everyone as it did to Thor. So many roads were being laid out before his very eyes revolving around you. This had so many different meanings, so many different futures. You could take place as a ruler of Asgard. You could possibly transend and become a goddess. The head attached to the mop of blonde hair was sent into a ditzy. He was in this state of rethinking literally everything that's eved occured in his life. His emotions were a mix of shock, rage, joy, and so much more— all of them swirling n him and creating a feeling he didn't even know existed. There was no way to even give it proper words. “Hey, Thor.” Rhodney snapped his fingers, eliciting the other to awaken from his daydream. “Oh, yes?”

“So, whatcha gonna do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“[Name] held your hammer. This obviously means something besides the fact that she's boiling with love to spread.” Bucky said. “Isn't there something more to it...?”

“I have to marry her.” Thor said without hesitation. “What?” Everyone in the room perked their heads up. “Asgard must be ruled over with those the hammer deems worthy, and [Name] is without a doubt worthy.” Oh how Steve was happy that he didn't pull the hammer off the table that time when they were all drinking. “Awww, so you finally get a shot to kiss wittle old [Name]y-waymey.” Tony mocked, making fake smooching noises. “He wasn't ever going to make a move on his own, I think it's good that the hammer got involved.” Pietro commented.

“Jeez it's blazing hot out there.” Speak of the devil, there you were, emerging from the outside with sweat running down your body, your clothes almost soaked in the substance. “I could use a drink right about now.” Waltzing your way to the fridge, you bent down and picked out a small glass of water, chugging it down in one gulp and releasing an ‘ahhh’ of satisfaction.

Thor felt something hit his head; A pillow. Glaring at the one who threw it, the god sighed at Clints childish act yet got the message. He inhaled, mustering all the courage he could and walking up to you. “Uhm, lady [Name], I could really-” “Hey Thor. Here's your hammer back.” You turned and greeted, opening his palm to place the hammer in it. “W-wait, you knew this was mines...?” He asked questioningly. “Yup. You always walk around with it after all,” A light laugh emitted as he took the time to process this. “It's pretty light for a hammer that only gods can pick up. Does that make me a goddess?” Everyone overhearing this in the living room snickered. No doubt about it, Thor was going to go crazy.

“Wellll, I guess since it's your hammer, that technically makes me your goddess!”

thor.exe has crashed