#or that you've never disagreed with someone on english-language media made by and for english speakers

[04tenno]

I will say a fair amount of localization discourse is predicated on the idea that people who speak the same language cannot come away with different interpretations of media or disagree on media which is asinine just on its surface

[crimsonbluemoon]

For the prompt game 12//07//25 please? Ah... Ohmtoonz? or a pair you've been itching to do :3

EACH TIME I SAY I WONT OVERDUE IT

Yet here we are. >.> 

AU: BabysitterTrope: Childhood friendsPrompt: “I know this looks bad, but I swear it’s not.” 

Pairing: Ohmtoonz

“Okay, I know this looks bad-” Ryan had to take a deep breath to keep from bursting out in laughter at the scene. His kitchen, which had been pristine and tidy when he’d left for a meeting with his lawyer three hours ago, was covered in more colors than he thought he could process. In the middle of the room sat Joe, hands splotched in yellow and smearing the substance down the tiles already coated in pink. The ‘babysitter’, (the term used very loosely, since it was a last minute decision after Joe’s original babysitter got sick) was in no better shape. Blue clumps of paint (Ryan hoped it was paint) were threaded through hair he remembered being much fluffier when they were children. Age had tamed it, though the red beard was even brighter now with fingerpaint between the strands. The place, his four year old son, and his babysitter were a disaster that Ryan still wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry over. “But I swear it’s not.”

“Luke.” Trying to keep from smiling, Ryan stepped forward, hands leaving his slack’s pockets to point above. “My ceiling is purple.” 

“And orange!” Joe supplied happily, splashing his hands down into an actual pile of paint beside him. 

“What happened? You’re a police officer; you literally shoot people for a living. How did a four year old get the jump on you like this?” Ryan had to tease, because it’d been so long since he’d been able to. Luke had always been the one that got away; his best friend for nearly two decades before, at eighteen, he left to travel Europe and ‘find his meaning’ in life. Ryan had wanted to go, nearly asked to join, but had simply stood in the airport and held back tears just long enough for Luke to enter the gate without seeing them. He’d been head over heels in love back then, and sometimes he’d thought the feeling was mutual. But all the ‘what ifs’ flew away with Luke on his plane, and Ryan had forced himself to move on. 

Eight years, one messy divorce, and a son later, Ryan had run into his high school love at the bank four months prior. Luke had come back to their hometown years ago to become a cop, but Ryan’s wonderful ex-wife had demanded he move to the west coast with her. He’d never got wind of Luke’s return, too distracted by the birth of Joe and the mother of his child abandoning her duties to run off with the pool guy. Ryan hadn’t been able to move back to his hometown until four months ago, still working on finalizing the paperwork and letting Joe finish his first year in pre-school before moving him back across the country. 

He’d felt a little lonely, raising his toddler without a hand to help support him on days he didn’t want to get out of bed. It wasn’t like his marriage had given him much in that department, either. She’d been distant after Joe was born, jealous of the attention Ryan gave their son, and sought her happiness in someone else. She hadn’t even said goodbye to their son when she left, which had been the coldest part of it all. And Ryan didn’t know how to de-thaw from her abandonment. Joe helped, because he was Ryan’s world. Honestly, the only good thing about the marriage was the ball of optimistic sunshine. But he had bouts of crying and questions about why his mom left that kept Ryan awake and aching for hours. Wounded with nobody willing to help heal him. Maybe he’d always been that alone, that empty and unlovable-

Except one look of relief and the words ‘There you are’ in a bank full of people was enough to fill his heart to the brim again. 

“Your kid’s way sneakier than the idiots in our town.” Luke glanced down at Joe with a grin that proved his next words were affectionate. “Like a damn little squirrel.”   

“That’s my favorite animal!” Joe gasped out, and Ryan shook his head in disbelief. Two days ago, it had been a flamingo. He’d begged Ryan to buy him a lawn decoration of the pink bird, which Ryan had firmly said no to. They barely even had a lawn, and he knew that Joe would never play with it. The puppy dog eyes were hard to refuse, but Ryan was getting better at putting his foot down. They did not need the bird.

But then Joe asked Luke, who bought it before Ryan came back from the bathroom. Ryan wasn’t sure who he scolded more that night over chicken fingers and fries. 

“Yup, you mentioned that. Six times.” Without an ounce of annoyance, Luke let Joe climb onto his lap, sitting cross legged so the toddler had a better seat. Green was smeared over Luke’s sweatpants from where Joe had dragged his knees, but like the amazing human he was, Luke didn’t show any regret over being a human jungle gym. “And remember what I told you each time?”

“Daddy’s favorite animal is a bunny,” Joe chirped back, and the long forgotten memory bubbled up too quick for Ryan to hide his blush.

“Luke!”

“What? I didn’t tell him why you like rabbits so much.” Except there was a grin on Luke’s face that was anything but innocent. Because how could it be, when Luke had never let him live down the time he walked in on Jonathan and Evan’s first time. He hand’t meant to blurt out ‘they were fucking like rabbits’ so loudly, and didn’t know that Mini had been recording the party. Craig got the perfect angle of Ryan nearly throwing himself down the stairs to escape the traumatizing experience. He wasn’t sure who had the tape anymore (maybe Panda, since his friend always liked to watch it whenever he was needing a pick me up), but Ryan had to guess that Luke watched it over a hundred times. 

“We’re not talking about this,” Ryan said, sending Luke a meaningful look through his blush. “We need to talk about who’s going to clean this disaster you and my son created.” 

“I’ve got the kitchen if you take the rugrat.” The offer of help was so simple, yet every time, it sucker-punched Ryan. Luke had not been expecting Joe when Ryan came back from California, blaming Jonathan’s ‘lack of understanding with the English language’ as to why he didn’t know. Ryan hadn’t been a fan of social media, and only kept in touch with a few old friends from the town. But like Joe was his own, Luke didn’t hesitate to jump into the fray with Ryan, helping out whenever he could. Being a cop meant weird hours and long shifts, but Luke never complained when he popped over to visit them after work. Ryan never needed to ask for help; Luke just gave it. Whether it was cooking Joe food while Ryan took a much needed shower, or picking out pjs as Ryan bathed the fussy kid, Luke was there to lend a hand and a smile right when Ryan needed it.

But for the life of him, Ryan couldn’t figure out why. Luke was attractive and single, and the talk of the town even now. It was hard to go into the supermarket without hearing one of the cashiers asking Ryan how Luke was doing. It was common knowledge in their little town where Luke spent most of his days, and it seemed people thought the best way to catch his attention was through befriending Ryan again. The jealousy and insecurity from high school reared up, and Ryan had to attack it with a fire hose to keep from Luke knowing. Luke had a right to date, to court whoever he wanted, because he didn’t owe Ryan and Joe anything-

“Uh oh, daddy’s daydreaming again.” Joe’s words and a snort of Luke made Ryan re-focus, turning his attention back to the two still on the floor. Luke looked so content with the toddler in his lap, and Joe showed no signs of discomfort being so close to the other man. They were covered in paint and his house was a wreck, but Ryan felt his heart swell at the warm image. 

“Maybe you should go pick out your pjs so I can check in with your dad.” Luke’s words were like magic; with a quickness that he never had when Ryan asked him to move, Joe scampered out of the kitchen. Little purple footprints made Ryan groan, but his shoulders barely got to slump before warm hands were pulling him forward into a hug. 

“You’re covered in paint,” Ryan protested weakly, though put up no real fight. The smooth hand that slid down his spine melted his stress away, and Ryan felt helpless to the urge of sinking into Luke’s warm chest. 

“What did Tyler say?” Luke didn’t mince words, but kept his voice low against Ryan’s ear. There was no reason to shiver at the contact or intimacy of their position, because Ryan knew it meant nothing like what his heart hoped it would. 

“He said this next court case will be the final one; she’s not fighting for any custody.” He should have been happy about the news, since it’d been what he and Tyler had asked for when discussing Joe’s fate. But it’d stung, knowing that even now, his ex-wife wanted nothing to do with the son they had created together. How did he explain that to Joe when he got older? When he asked questions about her, when he got angry and confused about his own self-worth? Ryan would do whatever he could to raise Joe with love and care, but fights would happen. They’d disagree over bigger things than eating broccoli or only reading two stories before bed. Who would Joe turn to in those moments? That was why he’d probably tried so hard with his ex-wife to begin with; he’d never wanted Joe to feel unsupported or disadvantaged because he’d only have Ryan. 

But he couldn’t make her love Joe. And that killed him more than the divorce ever could. 

“She’s an idiot.” Luke’s words of anger toward a woman he never met was unlike him. Charisma and open-mindedness were his middle name, never judging a book by its cover. But Joe’s mother seemed to be the one exception, Luke showing disdain toward her from day one. “She had everything anyone could ever want, and she gave it up like an idiot.”

“You really liked babysitting Joe that much, huh?” Ryan tried to make a joke, but his laugh was cut off when Luke grasped his shoulders and pulled him back far enough to force eye contact. 

“I’m not just talking about him.” The serious gaze made it hard to breathe, Ryan’s chest stuffed with too much to sort through. His eyes blinked slowly, reminiscent of the unspoken feelings he’d shut down at the airport years ago. Now they oozed out without his permission, and he didn’t have a plane to help hide them this time around. 

“I’m…I’m not-”

“Not what? Intelligent? Charming? Sweet? A great father that your kid would spend every second of the day with if he could? Not someone who deserves love?” Luke’s words were followed by a grin, a warm palm cupping Ryan’s face and slowly dragging a thumb under his wet eye. “Not the most amazing guy I’ve ever got to meet? Who, if I ever got the chance to call my husband, would never go a day without knowing how crazy in love with him I was? Cause I’ll tell you right now, you are all of those things. Every single one of them. You are worth so much more than you could ever know. And I’ll knock out any fucking moron who says anything else.”

“Luke…” But what could Ryan say? His stomach fluttered at the words, hope rising in his throat and keeping his vocal chords from speaking again. There was no room for protest, because Luke’s steady words and lack of hesitation proved the statements came from his very being. He really saw Ryan as something to brag about, as someone to keep. When his own wife, who was supposed to want him until death do them part, threw him away. Ryan knew he needed to say something, to give a response in some way to the confession (and Jesus, did Luke say he loved Ryan?), but his mind was too fuzzy and scared to speak and destroy the fantasy. 

“Luke said a bad word!” Joe, however, had no such problems, and Ryan forced his eyes away from Luke to see his son with his hands pointing to the counter. “He needs to put money in the swear jar!” 

“Oh, ri-right.” Ryan swallowed slowly and tried to focus, but a little peek at Luke from the corner of his eye made his heart jump into his throat again. His blush was deep, he knew it, but there was no saving himself. “You owe a dollar to the jar.” 

Luke’s grin was a mile wide as he slipped past, dropping the bill into the jar while keeping his eyes set on Ryan. And when he spoke, Ryan knew he wasn’t speaking about the swear. 

“So worth it.”