#i know exactly how my brain works. and i can successfully convince it to love someone. and i can successfully convince it to stop. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oonajaeadira · 3 years

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If You Will Let My Heaven Touch Your Stars (Ezra x f!reader)

Rating: Mature.

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: FLUFFY SMUT. INSPIRED BY THIS. Non-explicit oral (m and f receiving). Formatting may be strange in certain Tumblr themes due to paragraph spacing with the poetry.

A/N: Okay, y’all. I was looking for another reason to write some Ezra. I got inspired by this naughty confessional post and felt the need to rise to the challenge, but make it a bit soft. You know I’m allergic to writing physical doings without some emotional yearnings. So it has come to this. And I’m not sorry.

Summary: Ezra runs his mouth over some poetry. You run your mouth over some Ezra.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

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You know that sigh. It will be shortly followed by a gravelly, dissatisfied “hm.”

“Hm.”

Next will come the impatient flipping of pages as Ezra learns that the book he’s chosen from the stack he got in trade on the Pug is…”less than literary and more than malignant.”

“What’cha reading, Ez.” The main node on the electropulse generator blew during the last harvest and you’ve been doing your best to repair it for the better part of the scaling period. Better to keep eyes on the electrics than let them wander over to his bedroll where he’s stripped to his skivvies, propped up against a crate, reading.

The rotation of Ranakh-4 is almost sixty hours, and in the north hemisphere there’s always light. Should be perfect for prospectors to take shifts and get things done, but instead, it creates a scaling period--a good fifteen-hour window of intense heat and sunlight that’s too dangerous to be exposed to for long, causing lots of nasty side effects. Including skin scaling. Hence the name. So during that period you and Ezra hide in the cooled tent, sleeping, polishing gems, maintaining equipment, wasting time, and generally trying not to annoy each other too much.

That’s a joke between you. In the years you’ve known him, Ez has yet to get under your skin. Ezra’s usually up for a game of dice or five-stand during scaling period, and if you’ve got gear to clean or inventory to count, he’s good for a story. Or ten.

But after the third rotation he stopped playing games of chance with you and his stories got gradually less... crusty. He still had a lot to say, but he stuck mostly to mining anecdotes, weaving around salacious details and editing himself in the moment.

And you’re pretty sure you know why.

This isn’t the first posting you’ve had with Ezra.

There was the assignment on Phintreas. The job on TG-19. The second assignment on Phintreas--that one it was just the two of you. Just like this one.

There was a moment near the end of that run when you took a break from digging to stretch, arching your back in the dappled sunlight and pulling your arms up and back toward the thick foliage tops. There were singing insectoid creatures on Phintreas and you’d dropped your wrists to your head to listen to their song a little, closing your eyes and hearing in their hum the chords of a song you used to love.

It was just a few seconds, the warm air on your bare shoulders, the long thin trees--actually large grass--rising and swaying above. A pleasant stretch in your lower back. But there was something off. Your ears were full of insect song but there was something missing.

The sound of Ezra’s digging had stopped.

You turned to find him taking a break, leaning on his shovel, jumpsuit open and pulled down to a knot at his waist like yours. Dirt-streaked arms and undershirt, looking at you, staring with sad eyes, the long slopes of his mustache running into his patchy beard making him look like he was pouting more than he was. Probably. Totally lost in thought, his eyes slid down your torso. When he woke to the fact that you caught him using you as a backdrop for reverie, he didn’t even have the balls to be embarrassed. Just realigned his focus on his shovel and went back to digging, the veins straining out on his big hands.

“You okay, Ez?”

“As well as one can be, sweetheart. I feel we’re close. It is a fine day full of wonderments.”

You’d thought about that look in the days afterward. Didn’t really know what it meant for you. Until the final sleep cycle on that grass planet, the wind traveling through the fields making the grasses sing hollow and low in the night.

“What’cha reading, Ez?” You’d come to learn that it was a magic question, one that not only got you an explanation, but perhaps a chapter or two in his baritone twang.

And that night, as you packed your final bag, he swung the spine around to read out, “Papas Cordel, Love Verses.”

He didn’t ask you if you wanted to hear any. He just started to read.

Softly. Slowly. The words were innocuous on their own but their combination was sinful, his voice melting at the back of your brain, lifting the fine hairs of your neck, slithering down your spine before making an orbit to press upon your core and vibrate there.

He never said goodnight. Just read you a few poems full of worship and yearning in that sonorous voice of his, then rolled over and went to sleep. It left you in a panic, trying to control your breathing, in full understanding of what that look from a few days ago had really meant.

And for the duration of your next couple of jobs you spent some time in regret, wishing you’d decoded your feelings sooner or that he’d made his own clearer. You’d vowed that if you ever had the chance to go back and live that night again you wouldn’t hesitate to….what? To do what? You never got that far. Didn’t matter. Time doesn’t go backwards. After a while, it was easy enough to convince yourself that you’d just read too much into it, that you didn’t really feel anything and neither did Ez. He had just been tired and staring into space that day. And he’d just been aesthetically moved by the song of the grasses in the night wind. It was a trick of the light, and the more you rationalized it, the further the memory slipped into the realm of silly fantasy.

So when this assignment came, you’d had time enough to leave the fantasy behind and met Ezra as you always had--as a friend and a damn talented prospector you were happy to dig with. The man always got his haul and getting paired with him always meant profit.

It only took one scaling period to make you realize you were lying to yourself.

Scaling period means getting somewhere shaded and cooled and making yourself as comfortable as possible. Which means stripping down to essentials. All those dice games trying not to look at Ezra’s broad, bared chest, looking up from a hand of cards to find his eyes quickly darting away from you…. By the third rotation you’d noticed that neither of you could make eye contact with the other anymore and after that, Ezra generally spent his downtime during scaling periods laying on his bedroll in his skivvs, reading one of the dozen books he’d scavenged back on the station.

You weren’t sure if you were flattered or embarrassed or even injured that he wouldn’t move on whatever he was tense about. But, ultimately, this arrangement was easier.

Or so you lied to yourself.

A “what’cha reading, Ez” got you a few chapters of an old time-travel adventure or a philosophical treatise on the life of some forgotten pioneer while you mended a garment or recounted the supply of viable drill bits or tried to fix the damn faulty electropulse generator for the millionth time. Something rollicking and full of resonance to keep your ears busy and your mind distracted while you focused your eyes on anything but Ezra’s bronze skin and sable eyes and full lips and big hands and thick thighs and--

This time he clicks his tongue and runs a hand through his hair, humming a high note in a kind of frustrated laugh. “I won’t devastate your ears on this one, sweetheart. Not much of interest here but some poor soul ruttin’ and scraping for talent that eludes them. How this found its way into a thing to be bought and sold I will never understand.”

And yet, he keeps reading. Silently.

After a few minutes and another wire successfully cleaned and reconnected, you repeat yourself, taunting him.

“What’cha reading, Ez.”

“Mm.” He just flips through a few more pages, refusing to answer.

“Hey.” You chuckle into your work. “What’cha reading.”

You hear a huge intake of breath before a hold and a forced release.

“Wow,” you laugh. “Fine. Don’t waste breath on it. Just tell me which one it is so I can avoid it later.”

“Love and other Stars by Aeon Aido Raja.”

“I see. What’s it about?”

“Sadly, it is about a poet who cannot seem to make the match between words and sentiment; a volume of supposed amorous verse.”

“Amorous verse,” your hands stop working on their own. “Love...poetry?” There’s a sudden flashback to the sound of hollow reeds and soothing verses in the night. The words are a program in your brain, overwriting your inhibition and professionalism, pushing you to a deeply-coded goal to calm the flutter in your chest.

“So it claims. Although I fear it lacks full understanding of both--” His voice cuts out as he realizes you’ve stood and you’re moving toward him and his wide eyes lock to yours as you sit beside him on the bedroll. “Now what has gotten into you, sweetheart?”

You know exactly what’s gotten into you. The triggered wish of returning to that night, the built-up tension of dancing around each other in your underwear, trying to deny what’s going on, watching him purposefully respect you when you know he feels something, when he knows you do too--

What was it you were going to do if you had a chance to go back to that last night on the grass planet? Time to find out.

“Read to me.”

Ezra hesitates, unsure. “This?”

“Read it.”

His eyes flick down to follow the quick fold of your lips as you wet them with your tongue, unconsciously mimicking you, before fumbling his gaze back to the book and, with a regretful sigh, begins.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

When he looks for your reaction, you’re not sure if he’s pleading with you for permission to stop or continue.

Shit. He’s right. It isn’t great. But you’re here now, you’re going to make the most of it.

“That’s not...so bad.” And then you find out what you would have done that night--or at least how you’d start--by showing him your raised palm, lowering it slowly toward him. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Your hand travels down through the air, just to the inch above his skivvs, waiting a moment in the aura of radiated heat there, before settling lightly over him. He never says no, never takes his eyes from yours, the only reaction coming from a small lift in his chest, the corner of his mouth curling just a fraction, and the fabric beneath your hand quickly becoming the only thing there to qualify as soft.

“Sweetheart, what you’re beginning here--”

“The only words I want from you are that poem. I want to hear you read. You stop, I stop.”

The heat hangs heavy between you, burns beneath your hand. And with a huffed exhale, Ezra starts again.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

Supporting him from underneath, you’ve begun running your thumb up and down him, and his breath hitches, bringing him to a stop. So you stop.

“You stop, I stop, Ez.”

“Believe me, gentle one, I do not wish the impediment of your affections--”

“Then don’t stop.”

In a beautiful panic, Ezra looks back to the poem. “You sure you want this one?”

You nod. “I don’t care how good it is. That’s the poem I want. Keep going. I've always liked your voice. I know you can make it pretty.”

He stares at the page a moment, and you push him--literally--gasping into a start.

“If ever I could tell you When my heaven touched your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

You stop palming him when he stops to breathe, and it’s only when you trace his waistband with your fingertips that he swallows and continues, willing you to keep going--

“Waking in the night to the aching void of your embrace-- Can you forgive me if I plead your name? If I summon you to my body from wherever you are?”

Whether it’s the want in his voice or just getting further into the words, the poem is already getting better. His eyebrows begin to push together and arch, as you stretch the top of his underwear down, wrapping your hand around him. His words start riding the occasional groan which just resonate with you more and you rock yourself against the bedroll in time with your gentle, yearning pulls--

“You hold me adroitly With accurate proximity To keep your breath and my breath Two founts and one pool. To swim a in star-reflective stream of our holy recreation--”

He’s doing so well, the words wandering out deep and breathy, so beautifully controlled...until you lower your mouth to him.

Then there’s a strangled staccato grunt as he adjusts, takes a couple of quick breaths and continues--

“But your body is a.....wildfire Your lips a destruction And I give my everything over to your….cleansing devastation.”

Oh, his struggle is glorious. You can feel him trying not to buck, needing to blow out a breath between pursed lips here and there to concentrate on the print. He reads with intent, leaning into context and feeling, making a gift to you of every word.

“I have yearned for you to find me worthy of a spark An ignition... The rebirth of your combustible attentions.”

He pauses again to breathe, and while you allow him a small reprieve, he’s stopped a little too long and you abruptly halt. When you pull back to look up in reprimand, he gives you a soft smile through his panting, shaking his head in wonder. You know he’ll have plenty of praises when this is over, but he doesn’t seem to want to break the spell to say them now. When you return his little smile, he looks back to the page and continues, prompting you to return to your own administrations.

“How you draw from me each sweet effusion-- Every secret vein untapped-- Now yours in expert execution, Now open to your burning maw.”

He pushes through the poetry rather than into you, allowing you to hear him and match him. Your body begins to counter-react as you feel him brimming, turning on more need in you than you’ve felt in a while, and you show him just how well he’s doing by doing well by him.

There’s a shift in his voice as more breath enters in and nonverbal noises begin to punctuate the words; a shift in his body as his fingers tangle in your hair and grip tightly, suggesting a final rhythm--

“But within the fire An aperture of...divine precipitation Where those of us who live untouched Can go to drown To die To howl…..! To see the blessed face of eternity Or the….busting open….of a thousand….wretched….stars-- You-call-me-to-sinful-prayer You-invoke-my-abject-soul I find myself in debt…!...and thrall…!... to your superior…!...divinity--”

When he stops reading this round, you show mercy as he pounds his fist into the bedroll and makes his own additions to the poem, exclamations made up of your name and curses and calls to higher powers. You can only expect a man to expel from himself wondrously one method at a time, and Ezra’s earned his reward so beautifully.

Damn his opinion. The poem was perfect. You chose correctly. Either that, or Ez’s tongue really can spin any old refuse into gold.

But the book is still held high, and as you lift from him and guide him through his aftershocks with your hand, he breathes heavy though the final verse--

“This is how I love you from afar With agony and forlorn words While you hover forever in my purview A shaft of dazzling incandescence Shining down from your sun/star Through the glass of my desire Starts and restarts an everlasting blaze”

Then, setting the book reverently on the bedroll, he takes your face in his hands, dragging his thumbs across your lips, no longer needing the page for the last lines.

“If ever I could tell you And if you will let my heaven touch your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

Ezra’s kiss is achingly grateful. He tries to put into one kiss the loving equivalent of everything you’ve just done for him.

When he pulls back, he gives you the tiniest rough shake, a punctuation of his playful consternation. “Mmm,” he grunts. “While I am glad to know you find my recitals pleasing, you’re about to find out that my talent for oral ministrations do not stop at mere recitation.” With a miner’s strong arms he flips you over him onto the bedroll, making short work of your underwear and pinning your legs around his shoulders in a matter of seconds. “Now, I will not be so cruel as to make you put words to my reciprocation, unless you’d like to fill the silence to direct me to your will. Or say what you please. I will not be able to add to the conversation as I will be otherwise occupied.”

You don’t know if it’s years of running his mouth or wagging his tongue or yapping his jaw, but he’s well practiced in using allllll the muscles therein to help finish what poetry couldn’t quite accomplish.

At one point you think of surprising him and trying your own hand at reading while being entertained. But when you fumble for the book, it opens to the same poem.

But not the same poem.

The opening lines are there: “I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--Walking through the light of a moon in decline--Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

And that’s it.

That’s where it ends. The whole published poem--a mere seven lines.

Oh, Kevva. That’s...that means….

Damn, Ezra. The mouth on you.

The book drops to the bedroll.

And you break into pieces as his heaven masterfully consumes your stars.

________________

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Taglist: @melobee @extraterrestrialdork @14mcmd1122 @grogusmum @cannedsoupsucks

#soft ezra #soft!ezra #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #fluffy smut #pedro pascal #ezra prospect smut

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

What is Real? (Adrenaline Junkie Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: PTSD, memory loss, swearing, angst, panic attack

Word count: 3,509

You opened your eyes to the dim sunlight pouring through your curtains. You tried to move your arms to push yourself up, but strangely your right arm felt incredibly stiff. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you looked down at it. Nothing was off about it, so why was it so stiff? It made no sense.

With great difficulty, you slowly maneuvered your legs over the side of your bed. Everything felt incredibly stiff, especially your right wing, and your head felt like it was filled to the brim with cotton. Groaning, you heaved yourself off the bed into a standing position. You wobbled slightly on your feet, but you steadied yourself with your nightstand. What was with you today?

Hobbling out of your room with a steadying hand on the wall. You let your wings thump and drag across the ground behind you. You didn’t have the energy to hold them up and your right one felt very off. You should ask Philza to brew you a potion of healing and maybe ask him why you woke up like this. Were you in for a really bad molt?

Stumbling your way down the hallway and dragging your feet, you almost fell over a couple of times. The stairs were going to be a massive pain if you could barely walk down the hall. Your body lurched forward as your foot caught the edge of a rug. You yelped as the ground quickly met your face, your arms not cooperating when you tried to move them to catch yourself.

Feeling a stabbing pain in your nose, you laid there for a little bit hearing the door next to you swing open. Without looking at him, your scratchy, muffled voice called out.

“Wilby, thank god you’re here. Can you help me up? My legs aren’t working today for whatever reason. I think I’m gonna molt soon.”

He gently pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, smooshing your face into his shoulder. You pulled away slightly to look up at him. He was smiling widely at you and his face looked blotchy. Wilbur never cried in front of anyone, so naturally you were incredibly worried for your older brother.

“Wil, are you crying?”

He just pulled you into another tight hug. Hissing in discomfort, you felt him push on your sore muscles.

“Wil, as much as I love you, can you please let me go? Everything feels really sore.”

He pulled away again, giving you a little confused smile. “I’m so sorry, do you want me to take you downstairs? We can get Dad to make you a potion.”

You returned his smile. “I’d appreciate that. But can you carry me? I don’t wanna move anymore.”

“Of course.”

Chuckling, he turned around and crouched gesturing for you to get on his back. A few unsteady moments later, you were successfully on Wilbur’s back and started your much quicker journey downstairs. You rested your cheek on his back and hummed in content. You found comfort in hearing his heartbeat, even if it was beating faster than usual.

Quickly reaching the couch, he gingerly put you down on it and made sure you didn’t lay on top of your wings. They sprawled behind you over the back of the couch.

“Stay right here, I’m going to get Dad.”

He walked outside with large strides, leaving you by yourself in the living room. You closed your eyes and pondered why today was so strange. First, you couldn’t move this morning. Second, Wilbur, your collected older brother, was crying. Third, Philza was up and outside. Usually he’s basically unresponsive in the mornings. He would never be up and about this early.

Opening your eyes when you heard hurried footsteps rushing toward you. Why’d you get déjà vu? Why did you feel so… so scared? Your panicked eyes landed on your dad running towards you with all your brothers following suit. You relaxed seeing your family. But why did they look at you with relief and tears in their eyes? Even Technoblade looked relieved.

Philza landed on his knees next to the couch before placing a gentle hand on your cheek. His worried blue eyes scanned you and he stared at you with a gentle smile.

“...Hey hun, how are ya feelin’?”

“I’ve had better days. I just feel really stiff, I think I’m going to have a bad molt this year.”

Your brothers looked at each other with confusion. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, Philza crinkled his brows. “Hun, do you not remember what happened? You-”

Tommy interrupted, “You died. SOMETHING KILLED YOU AND YOU RESPAWNED. HOW DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THAT?”

Flinching back, you deadpanned. “Gremlin, I think I’d remember if I lost one of my lives. My entire body feels like shit, but I sure as hell didn’t die. That’s just absurd.”

Philza gently grabbed your wrist and pulled down your sleeve. Instead of the usual three red hearts that were etched into your skin, only two stared back at you. You stuttered as your brain processed what you saw. You... died? How? Why couldn’t you remember your own death?

Your thoughts were interrupted as Philza spoke up. “You died, (y/n).”

“I… How?”

Philza pursed his lips together. “You were killed by The Warden. You were out mining.”

You looked at your hands. “Who’s The Warden?”

“It’s a mob that usually spawns in subterranean caves. We’re not exactly sure how you died, but… but you died down there, (y/n). You lost a life.”

You took in a shuddering breath. How could you be so damn careless? Were you falling back into your dangerous stunts phase? Did you get yourself killed? Why couldn’t you remember anything?

“Hun, do you want me to get you a potion for the stiffness?”

“...Yes please.”

“Tommy, can you please go get them a potion of healing? WIlbur, can you get a glass of water for them?”

Without a word, Tommy and WIlbur ran out of the room, leaving you with Philza and Techno. The piglin hybrid wouldn’t even look at you. Philza ran a comforting hand through your hair as he waited for your brothers to return.

When they came back, Wilbur helped prop you up so you could drink the potion and water. They soothed your scratchy throat and you felt your body fill up with warmth. It was always nice to drink a healing potion when you were hurt. Most of the stiffness and soreness that was previously rooted deep in your muscles was alleviated and you felt some of your nerves melt away. Now only your right wing was sore. You stretched, feeling a tugging sensation on the skin of your back around the base of your right wing.

“That’s better. I think I’m going to go shower, I feel absolutely disgusting.”

Not giving your worried family any room to argue with you, you swung your legs over the side of the couch and shakily stood up. Philza tried to help steady you, but you wove him off. If you were weak enough to die, you thought, you needed to prove yourself to your family that you were strong. You needed to do things yourself.

As you were shakily making your way up the stairs, Philza was following you, probably making sure you don’t kill yourself again. He was fussing over your wellbeing, you did just die and you were acting surprisingly calm about it.

“At least let me help you preen your wing.”

“Dad, I can preen my own wings. I’m 17.”

“I know hun. I just want to help you.”

“Dad. I can do it myself, I’ve been doing it alone since I was 10, and I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.”

Without giving him any more room to try to convince you, you closed the bathroom door in his face. You understood and appreciated that he was worried about you, but you needed to do things on your own if you were going to prove your strength to your family. You were angry that he thought you couldn’t do a simple thing by yourself. You could still hear him breathing from the other side of the door.

Peeling off your jacket, you ran your fingers along your left wing. The feathers were more out of place than usual, you must’ve gotten pretty fucked up by The Warden if they were this messy. After about 10 minutes of frustrated preening, you twisted your torso around slightly to reach for your other wing, but you couldn’t see anything. Why couldn’t you see anything? Your wings were large enough for you to completely wrap your body in them twice and then some, so it didn’t make sense to you.

Turning around to face the wall across the bathroom mirror, you spread out your wings and craned your head around to look at your right wing. Your eyes were met with a featherless nub that matched your skin tone. An ugly, discolored scar covered the entirety of the right side of your back. Without warning, memories flashed in front of your eyes at rapid fire.

A monsterous being towered over you, standing completely still. You held your breath as it just stood there. It walked away so you started to walk away. Everything lit up as you started to run from the thing chasing you. Blood pounded in your ears as panic engulfed your entire being as you tried to fly away, but you were caught. It effortlessly swung you around as it screamed. You felt your wing rip from your body and you flew across the cave. You couldn’t breathe. What did you do to deserve this?

“../n).”

You reached around to feel your wing, but you only grabbed the bone sticking out of your body. You felt anguish as you realized that you just lost a limb. You watched it drag your wing into the depths of the cave, leaving you completely and utterly alone as you slowly died.

“...(y/n)..”

You were crying in pain as you felt everything that happened crash down on you all at once. You laid there for what felt like hours as you sobbed and dry heaved. You prayed to whatever god was above that you would be put out of your misery soon. You felt as your body slowly got colder and colder. You were drifting in and out of consciousness. You couldn’t breathe. Please, for the love of god, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it sto-

“(Y/N).”

You saw a hazy figure in front of you. You felt someone’s hands gripping your shoulders in a firm grasp, you thrashed about trying to get out of it’s grip. You saw the monster that took your wing from you. The thing that killed you. You threw your arms about blindly in a desperate attempt to land a hit to try and get it to let you go. The only reason it let you go in the cave was when your wing was torn off, was it going to take your arms too?

You felt a smack as your hand collided with what you guessed was its grotesque face. It yelped and jumped back, releasing its grip on you. Its yelp strangely sounded like your dad’s voice. Your mind was probably playing tricks on you, your dad wasn’t here. You needed to get out. You scrambled up to your feet and bolted. You weren’t going to get killed again, especially by that thing.

“(Y/N)!”

How did it know your name? More importantly, how was it talking to you? You were probably still in the cave bleeding out as your delirious mind turned stone into the comforting walls of your home. You were probably imagining hearing your dad’s voice in a last chance to comfort yourself as you neared your impending doom.

Running down the hall, you made your way to the stairs. You couldn’t jump over the banister, you would probably break your legs again without both of your wings. Your vision was tunneling as you only focused on how to get out and away from the monster. When you were halfway down the stairs, you saw Tommy sprinting up to you looking panicked. No one deserves to die in the way you did, especially not him.

“Oh my god, Tommy we need to get you out of here, it’s coming for us.”

He grabbed your shoulders and bent over to look you in the eye, “(y/n), whatever you’re seeing is not real, you-”

“We need to go now!”

He was cut off as you grabbed his hand and drug him down the stairs. You could hear the thing coming closer. It started to come towards you and Tommy. You yanked him along with you as you reached the living room and sprinted towards the front door. You could taste the freedom. It tasted sweet.

Right as you grasped the door handle, you felt Tommy wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back. What the fuck, did he want to die?

“Tommy, if you don’t let me go now, it’s gonna get us. Please, you don’t wanna die the way I did.”

He said nothing as he turned you around and blocked the doorway with his body. The monster turned the corner and entered your sights. You’d be damned if you let Tommy die. You were determined to protect him even if you ended up dying a second time.

You puffed up your wing and shifted your body into a stance that you hoped was threatening. Pushing Tommy behind you and shielding him with your wing, you harshly glared at it.

“You fucking bastard, ya here for seconds? Was my wing not enough for you? Well, I’ve got bad news for ya, I won’t let you kill me again. I won’t let you near my brother.”

“(Y/n), it’s me,” it croaked out in your dad’s voice and started to slowly walk towards you, holding its arms up. Why wasn’t it shambling like it did in the cave? You felt more fear well up in your gut as you stepped back.

“You’ve got a lotta audacity to use my father’s voice against me. I’ll rip you to shreds if you step any closer to us. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”

It stepped back, it’s mouth impossibly frowning more as more drool pooled from its mouth. Tommy wrapped his arms around yours as he bound you to his chest. Thrashing, you desperately tried to get out of his hold.

“TOMMY WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? DO YOU WANT TO DIE? THAT THING IS RUTHLESS, IT WILL TEAR YOU APART LIMB BY LIMB JUST LIKE IT DID TO ME. DO YOU WANT THAT?”

He once again said nothing. You felt your hair on the top of your head start to dampen. You heard more footsteps running to you. Techno and Wilbur appeared behind the monster. They looked absolutely terrified. Were you going to watch your older brothers die?

Your chest heaved as you looked at them with wide eyes. “Tech, Wil please, for the love of god run while you still can. It’s in front of you.”

They glanced at each other before Wilbur grabbed the monster’s arm. You screamed in horror as it looked at him. To your confusion, Wilbur wasn’t grabbed. He just gently led the monster away into the kitchen.

“I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU TOUCH A SINGLE HAIR ON HIS HEAD, YOU’LL MEET A FATE WORSE THAN MINE. I WILL MAKE SURE YOU SUFFER MORE THAN I DID, YOU GODDAMNED FREAK.”

Your hoarse screaming was interrupted as Tommy squeezed you against his chest tighter. Techno slowly approached you, making sure that you saw his every move, and bent over to look you in the eye. Tommy’s arms tightened around you, scared that you were going to lash out at Technoblade.

“(Y/n), The Warden isn’t here. You’re home, you’re not in the cave. You’re safe.”

You studied his face. Was he even real? Was any of this real? He looked real. Then again, everything around you looked real.

“I… Tech, are-are you real? Is any of this real?”

Techno pulled you out of Tommy’s arms and pulled you into his own tight embrace. He pressed a hand on the back of your head and pushed your face into his shoulder, rocking you back and forth. Your forehead tickled where you felt the end of his braid brush against your skin. You started to sob into his chest.

“Tech, I was so scared. I… I thought I was gonna die again. Please don’t let me die.”

“The Warden isn’t here, (y/n). I’m real. The house is real. You are home. No one else is here besides Dad, Wilbur, Tommy, me, and you. You’re safe. We won’t let you die again.”

He repeated the same things over like a mantra. With each reassurance, you felt yourself calm down. Techno’s soothing, monotone voice gave you something that wasn’t too overstimulating to center your focus on. You cried until you didn’t have any tears left to cry. Even after you were done crying, Techno continued to rock you back and forth, caressing your hair on the crown of your head like he did when you were kids.

The voices in his head have been screaming at him nonstop since he saw that they had lost a life earlier in the day. They were telling him that he was stupid for letting you go mining alone. That he was a failure for letting you die alone. He couldn’t hear his own thoughts. He could only attempt to comfort you while trying to ignore the voices.

Tommy stood stiff at the door watching you two. For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. His older sibling was always calm and collected. He’s never seen you react like that. He’s never seen you so terrified. You were always the one to comfort him, never the other way around. You were there to give him hugs when he scraped his knee as a child. You were there when he’d have nightmares. You always made sure that he was alright. He was truly stumped.

Meanwhile in the dining room, Philza sat at the head of the table staring blankly at his folded hands placed in his lap. Wilbur had pulled up a chair to sit next to him, rubbing his back in small circles. The two didn’t speak to each other. Instead, they were listening to your heartbreaking sobs as Techno’s deep voice rumbled lowly underneath your sobbing.

Wilbur didn’t know how to comfort his dad. Hell, he didn’t know how to comfort himself. His little sibling just died, forgot about it, and remembered it in the span of six short hours. Your death must’ve been traumatizing if you were reliving it. He didn’t know how to comfort you, he always was the one, besides Philza, to comfort you when you were upset as a kid. He felt completely lost.

Philza remembered how he felt his heart drop when he heard you start to scream from the other side of the bathroom door. The instinct to comfort his child overpowered his rational thought as he opened the door. He found you curled in on yourself on the ground with your only wing tightly wrapped around you mid panic attack. He asked you multiple times if it was alright to touch you, but you never responded. You just kept your eyes screwed shut. He was crouched in front of you trying to get you out of your trance before he decided to put his hands on your shoulders. That made you finally open your eyes. He tried to give you a smile, but you started to flail your arms. He dodged the best he could, but your movements were too erratic and you ended up smacking him across the face.

He felt so scared for you when you ran away from him in a panic. He thought you were going to hurt yourself when you reached the stairs. He felt like someone tore his heart out and stomped on it when he realized that you were afraid of him. You saw him as your murderer. When you started to threaten him, he saw just how terrified you were of dying again. How terrified you were of him killing you. You didn’t react when tears started to slip down his cheeks. He didn’t care that you were threatening him, he cared that his own child was terrified of him.

At the moment, you were slowly fading out of consciousness in your brother's hold. You felt completely drained physically, emotionally, and mentally. You barely registered Techno picking you up and carrying you up the stairs to your room, laying you on your bed. He even covered your wing with your blanket.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added to the series taglist): @acecarddraws @goldenstarofthunderclan @ravennightingaleandavatempus @dirtydiavolo @immadatmostthings @hee-hee-haw @jackalopedoodles @m1lkmandan @vanhakirja @im-a-depressed-gay @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @questioning-sanity @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @kakamiissad @lifestylesleep @speedymaximoff @sun-shark-tooth @camisascam @yeiras-world @jayistrash

#sbi x reader #platonic #sibling reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #angst #tw: ptsd #tw: swearing #tw: panic attack #tw: depersonalization

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j3ssisam3ss · 3 years

Text

This idea won’t leave me alone...

In short: A Dickinette/BioDad!Bruce/Enemies to Lovers fic featuring:

Marinette “If God gave me strength you’d all be dead” Dupain-Cheng

Dick “Don’t make me use my Batman voice” Grayson

Tim “Give me coffee or give me death” Drake-Wayne

Damian “I’ll gladly give you death” Al Ghul-Wayne

Jason “It’s not trauma it’s humor, quit looking at me like that” Todd.

I can’t write a Dickinette fic at the same time that I’m writing a BioDad!Dick fic. I just can’t. But this idea won’t get out of my brain, so here I am writing it down and hoping it’ll leave me alone after this.

Marinette finds out she’s Bruce Wayne’s biological daughter when she’s summoned to Gotham for the reading of his will.

Because apparently the universe can’t give her even a single month to deal with the fact that her boss was a secret supervillain. Or the fact that the partner that had betrayed her, attacked her, sexually assaulted her, repeatedly, was the same guy she’d spent years crushing on.

It’s fine though. She’s fine. She’s not fine. No trauma or trust issues here.

She’s expecting money from her absentee father, maybe a cool car or something. Instead, she’s made co-CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and co-guardian of two kids.

Because apparently her biological father was something of a serial adopter. Apparently, he had no interest in reaching out to her, but adopted four boys and served as a mentor or guardian to countless other kids. She’s not bitter about that. Really, she’s not. She is.

Nevertheless, dealing with things she didn’t sign up for is practically Marinette’s calling card by now, so she takes to running Wayne Enterprises and raising her siblings like a duck to the water. Half the WE employees jumped ship after Bruce’s death? Not a problem, she’ll bring in new hires and inspire cult-like loyalty with her professionalism and efficiency. Her kids charges (and the rest of the Wayne family) moonlight as Gotham’s vigilantes? We’ve all been there. She starts immediately on new suits - ones that will have some magical extra protection and won’t make her barf every time she looks at them. The dead sibling is actually alive and just as salty with Bruce and his family as she is? She’ll make friends with him and force a reconciliation sweeter than the macaroons she used to bribe him.

The only issue she can’t solve is one Richard John Grayson. As Bruce Wayne’s far too attractive eldest ward - not son, apparently that’s a sore spot - the executors of Bruce’s will have named him her partner in this whole kid-raising, business-running mess. Which would be fine, except for the fact that he seems to have made it his life’s mission to oppose anything and everything she suggests or does. Marinette is running a fashion empire, trying to teach centuries-old monks what the internet is, raising two kids, and leading a multinational corporation. She doesn’t have time for this nonsense. And yet it’s her problem.

And then Gotham decides that she and Dick are in love and everything gets so much worse. Is it too late to take the Miracle Box and fake her own death?

Dick, on the other hand, has spent the last six years trying to break out of the shadow of Batman and Bruce Wayne alike.

With Bruce’s death, it feels like he’s taken three steps forward and fifty backwards. He’s twenty-four. He’s a police officer, with hopes of becoming a detective. He’s not prepared to run a multi-billion dollar company. Not prepared to raise his siblings. Not prepared to abandon his identity as Nightwing to become the Caped Crusader.

And yet, he has to. Because Tim and Damian need him. Because family comes first. Because it would destroy his siblings to become Batman. It will destroy him too.

When the court introduces Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Bruce’s biological daughter and his partner in sibling-raising and company-wrangling, his immediate reaction is relief. Maybe now he can get a little sleep. Maybe Damian will actually listen to her and will have a semi-normal childhood. Maybe she’ll be able to convince Tim to ingest something other than coffee. Maybe he won’t have to completely give up being Nightwing. Maybe between him, Tim, and Marinette they’ll be able to convince the world that yes, two young adults and a kid can run a successful business. Maybe one day she’ll grace him with a date.

These dreams are brought to a screeching halt when Dick realizes: Marinette Dupain-Cheng has no understanding of what a partnership entails.

She speaks for both of them to the board, to the media, to the kids, without so much as asking his opinion. She makes decisions and changes and informs him when it’s too late to protest. When he tries to bring it up, she gives him an innocent look of confusion and changes the subject. It’s infuriating maddening frustrating. Somehow, he’s doing more work trying to keep up with her than when he was running WE by himself.

And that’s not even getting started on the secrets she’s keeping. Her personality is all sunshine in public, but at home she’s as cynical and distrustful as Bruce himself. He hears voices coming from her room when she claims to be asleep. She has too many skills that don’t match with her background or age. Skills like disarming a gunman before the security guards even realize he’s there. Like successfully running a multinational corporation with no prior experience. Like knowing exactly how to deal with the media, despite being raised as a baker’s daughter.

Dick is taking on the mantle of Batman, raising his siblings, trying to learn how to run a multi-billion dollar company, and making regular appearances as Nightwing. He doesn’t have time to deal with this drama. And yet it’s his problem.

And then Gotham decides that he and Marinette are in love and everything gets so much worse. Is it too late to dump Bruce’s body in the Lazarus Pits and force him to deal with this mess?

@maribatmarch-2k21

Maribat March - Day 23 - Enemies to Lovers

#maribat #fic ideas #dickinette #marinette is so done #cynical marinette #guardian marinette #dick grayson is batman #everyone is traumatized #just realized this works for MaribatMarch #MaribatMarch2021

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sixeyesgojo · 3 years

Text

Pictures of You

Summary: prequel to I’ll Be Your Enemy - fluffy!

Characters: IBYE!Reader, Gojo, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara

Word count: 2,3k

Content warning: none

A/N: requested by @thecaptainsbride

If anybody got the reference Gojo made when he was late; congratulations, you have been successfully hurt (but this time it was not me).

Since I left the relationship between Gojo and the reader up for interpretation in IBYE, I will do the same here! Consider this piece me trying to mend your hearts <3

Taglist applications open for anyone who is interested!

“A trip to an amusement park or something like that doesn’t sound so bad,” you mused in front of Satoru. “It serves as relaxation and maybe the first-years can get closer to each other, you know, bonding and so on. They will see each other many times from now on, so getting along with each other is important,” you reasoned, your eyes almost sparkling from the thought of a day off.

“But Jujutsu Sorcery is an individual–” he began.

“Satoru, I think you should see this as vacation. A vacation where you can eat sweets until your teeth rot and absolutely nobody will hold you back,” you interrupted him.

“Okay, I am sold. Am listening now.” You just knew how to convince him. Sweets.

So that was exactly how the first-year students and you ended up at a fairground somewhere in Tokyo; it was quite neat, not too small but not too spacious either. None of you could get lost in it. Still, it was buzzing with life and all kinds of people mingled. The colorfulness was a refreshing sight to take in, compared to the dark world of Jujutsu Sorcery where seeing people suffer was your daily routine. The pleasant smell of food wafted through the air, making your mouth water, as you walked past the different booths with them. Waffles sounded like absolute heaven on earth right now.

Jujutsu Sorcery certainly was a draining sport, mentally as well as physically. Therefore it was only right to take a break at times, right? Self-care days were just as important as working.

In order to wind down a bit, you had suggested a one-day trip – just you, Satoru and the three first-year students you had adopted in your mind right away after meeting them several times.

“Sensei, you look very pretty today!” Yuji complimented you. Even Megumi noticed: “Did you have a haircut? Your hair seems a little bit shorter.”

“Yeah, Nobara had a field day with me. Cutting my hair.. or more like trimming the ends, choosing my outfit, doing my make-up and so on just for today,” you gushed as if you were a high school girl again. “Leave it to master stylist Kugisaki Nobara and nobody will ever look bad,” the brunette girl commended herself. Yuji was affectionately patting her on the back.

Undoubtedly, Satoru was late – nobody was surprised about that. You already went ahead and generously treated the trio of students you loved dearly to some food.

“Thank you for the food, sensei!” As usual, Yuji and Nobara were in perfect harmony with each other, seemingly sharing a brain.

“Thank you very much,” Megumi also expressed his thanks sweetly. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought the way his lips seemed to twitch was unintentional. “Absolutely no problem, kiddos. You guys enjoy it while I try to contact Gojo-sensei, yeah?” you shot them an apologetic smile, already fishing out your phone. The three of them nodded in perfect synchronization. They’re as cute as little ducklings, you thought.

You didn’t even need to bother calling.

You were about to dial Satoru’s number on your smartphone when Yuji’s voice boomed, “Oh! There he is! Gojo-sensei, we are here!!”

The boy waved at his teacher.

Satoru immediately spotted the pink-haired student and skipped over to where you all were standing. “Sorry for the wait! I’m afraid I got lost on the path of life!!”

“Nice of you to finally join us, but sadly, the fun is already over and we decided to go home. Just wanted to call you to let you know! We’ve been here since morning,” you deadpanned as the white-haired man arrived, looking Satoru dead in the eye – if they weren’t covered. “Wait, wha– Hold on, I am very sure I am not that late. MY MOCHI?” Satoru sounded frantic, facing his students who just shrugged their shoulders. “Serves you right,” Megumi stated calmly. Nobara, being the sassy girl she was, also joined in, “Losers don’t get to have fun and that’s a fact.”

It was such a wholesome and funny moment for you to see the students playing along with your prank without being told beforehand.

You broke out in laughter, not being able to contain it any longer, “You should have seen your face, dumbass! I was just joking!”

“Phew, I almost thought I had to kiss the idea of eating sweets today goodbye. What a horror that would be, my day would be OVER this instant,” the blindfolded man pouted, “so where should I buy my sweets? I’m gonna buy the entire place anyway, but where do I start? Any suggestions for Great Teacher Gojo?”

“Hold up, Satoru! We gotta take a picture together to commemorate this special day!” you suggested, bouncing up and down with enthusiasm. “I swear I just saw sensei’s eyes sparkle but I might be wrong,” Yuji remarked, looking at his dark-haired friend for confirmation.

“Sensei, if you want to take a picture, we have to take it at the right angle!” Nobara chimed in, the secret Instagram influencer in her on full display. She continued to explain, “It would come out great if Gojo-sensei took the pic, long arms privilege and so on.”

The female student almost seemed more into it than you were, it was adorable to you to see the usually bold student be this into taking pictures.

You hand the tall man your phone, but not without shooting him a “if you drop my phone, I’ll make you drop dead” look.

“Okay, ladies, now let’s get in formation,” the male teacher commanded loudly. Upon hearing that, Megumi immediately slapped his hand in his face and turned away in embarrassment. Why was this man like this?

“...Ladies?” Yuji asked, the expression on his face screaming ‘confusion’ “Gojo-sensei just referenced a Beyoncé song, Itadori,” the dark-haired boy explained in a hushed tone, turning back slightly as if he did not want to get caught.

“And it’s not just any song!” Satoru happily chimed in. “Yes, yes, the good old Formation,” you added, nodding in satisfaction. You remember how you showed him the album when it dropped.

“Can we all just ignore Gojo-sensei and take our pic?” Nobara inquired as she shoved everybody into their respective spots. “Alright, everybody, smiiiiile for the camera. Say cheese!”

Click, click, click, click.

Finally, Satoru had gotten his share of sweets. Complying with his sweet tooth was always an effective way to calm him for some time. Almost like feeding a baby, in a way.

Now it was time for fun rides!

...or at least that was what you thought… until Satoru dragged you along to ride a freaking pendulum ride with him. The three students had managed to talk themselves out of stepping foot on that monster of a ride but Satoru didn’t even give you a chance to refuse, he simply gripped your arm and walked towards it.

Stopping only when you were already standing in line, you nervously eyed the metallic behemoth with its iron arm. The monstrosity was seemingly ready to make you throw up from the way it would spin you through the air repeatedly, going back and forth and back and forth again. Why did you have to do this?

“Satoru,” you called his name timidly and tugged at his sleeve, the strange feeling not leaving your gut, “do I really, really have to do this?”

“Absolutely! I promise it will be very fun,” Satoru replied with a signature grin you wanted to wipe off of his face at that moment.

No, it was not fun. At all. You were dizzy and your fear of height was kicking. The blasts of air hitting your face left, right and center were not helping at all and you were sure, if anybody took a picture of you right now, you would look horribly green.

“I– can’t do this anymore!” you shouted mid-air, right before the ride swung to the other side. The force knocked the air out of you once again.

“SATORU, PLEASE GET US OUT OF HERE!” you begged and squeezed his arm with an iron grip. The height was too overwhelming. “Mid-ride?” Satoru asked and you nodded frantically. “Now that’s what I call reckless! Sounds like fun. I’m in!” he declared with a grin.

“Domain Expansion: Infinite Void.”

That was the last thing you heard the tall man say before he touched your head with his large palm.

Your eyes widened in horror as you realized this man used his domain this recklessly, for fun. Maybe it was a side effect of being able to use it multiple times a day.

The infinity gently wrapped itself around Satoru and you. Almost movie-like, you watched as the entire, vast universe beautifully unfolded in front of your eyes. Each star being created separately, then abruptly flashing by as a sea of stars – as if you were in a wormhole. You perceived the entire domain within a flash of a moment, yet tasted eternity in it. Everything but nothing at once.

Despite being touched by Satoru himself, the sensations weren’t without merit. If this was how it felt to be in the safe space of Satoru’s touch within his inner world of Limitless, you would rather not fathom how it felt to be the one hit by this powerful domain.

It took you some time to process things and recollect.

“When I said I wanted you to get the two of us out of that thing, I didn’t mean ‘send me to your domain’,” you scolded him.

“Well, it was convenient,” he defended himself and you could almost hear the grin on his face, “Bet you’ll hate me after this though.”

“Hating you was never really an option I’d ever consider but okay, we’ll run with it this time. Now undo your domain, please, while I am asking nicely.”

“Your wish is my command! This time at least.”

“Satoru.” A stern last warning fell from your lips.

“Yes, yes, boss. On it.”

“I thought you said it’ll be fun but I am absolutely not riding that thing ever again,” you took deep breaths to calm down as your feet securely touched the ground again. Your legs were still trembling a bit.

“And it was fun! At least for me! I like seeing you struggle – it’s so funny – and the way you clung to my arm? Adorable! You are so tiny compared to me, like a bug I could crush between my fingers!” The annoying sorcerer laughed merrily.

“Gojo fucking Satoru, the only thing that is about to be crushed here are your balls. With my leg. You are very lucky to have that damn Infinity of yours or else,” you threatened.

“Ouch, you really do know how to hurt an invincible man,” he snickered and flicked your forehead lightly.

Rejoining with the students was easy as they all saw the barrier Satoru’s domain created.

“You are lucky there was some kind of show going on down here. That barrier above would have freaked people out if they weren’t distracted,” Nobara said, looks shooting daggers at her weird teacher. Innocent and as nice as ever, Yuji pitched in as well: “Yeah, Fushiguro also tried to distract children with their wandering eyes! I think he did a good job.”

“Okay but what did he do though?” you asked curiously and looked at the boy in question.

“...Shadow puppets,” Megumi slowly admitted, looking anywhere but at the people in front of him.

“Oh? You love your foster-dad-turned-great-teacher this much to embarrass yourself out in public? That’s new!” Satoru teased the poor boy. “Someone has to be the voice of reason around here or you’d all be in jail. That includes preventing civilians who are able to see curses from seeing you use Jujutsu while floating mid-air,” he justified, ignoring the tall teacher’s mockery completely.

“As much as I love slandering Gojo-sensei, I’d rather spend my day actually having fun,” Nobara pitched in, reminding everybody of why you were here in the first place.

“So, let’s go ride the ferris wheel!” she added excitedly.

More fun rides.

Before you knew it, the day passed by. You could already feel the heaviness in your legs from walking. The swirling feeling from all the rides boded in your chest – you probably would not be able to sleep well tonight. It was definitely worth it though, you thought.

You had already brought the students back to their dorm – Satoru had ran off to the school because he remembered he had to do something – and were on the way home yourself.

You were in some sort of trance, completely immersed in your phone, so you hadn’t registered when Satoru called your name until he gently tapped your shoulder, falling into step with you.

“Yeah?” you looked up to Satoru, snapping out of your train of thought.

“Just wanted to tell you; ‘Operation: Relaxation Day’ was a great success.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Satoru.” A genuine smile graced your lips and for a moment, he softened at the sight.

“You know what? It was amazing, I really should start listening to you more often,” he confessed with a smirk.

“Well, it’s thanks to your amazing power of persuasion that we got to spend it like this, so thanks for today,” you half-heartedly complimented him.

“You do know I only said we’d not be available today and then dashed, right?” he asked you, the usual playful tone lacing his voice. “Exactly what I meant by saying ‘your amazing power of persuasion’.”

“I think I’ll frame the picture we took,” you murmured softly, fondly looking at the screen of your phone. The picture from earlier was displayed on your homescreen.

Surely, you would hang it on the blank wall in your home as well. It was a personal treasure now.

Taglist (dm me if you wanna be added): @assbuttbaek @megumifushi @bleueluna @gojos-mochi @delammi

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x y/n #domain expansion #infinite void #ibye series

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imkylotrash · 3 years

Text

Tiny Riot

Pairing: Sky x reader

Requests: I was wondering if you could do a soulmate imagine for Sky? Anonymous And Could you please make an angst/fluff Sky x Reader imagine? Anonymous And A cute sky imagine where him and the reader cuddle. Anonymous

You share a unique tattoo with whoever is your soulmate. Of course, this means people drawing their own “tattoo” on to match the person of their dreams. You try to excuse them by thinking of the desperation some people must feel to find their one true love. You have the pleasure of knowing exactly who your soulmate is because you saw his tattoo on the first day of school when he stretched after a workout and his shirt slid up to reveal the anchor on his lower hip. It’s just that you think he’s sort of a jerk so you refuse to act on it. You won’t fall prey to this idea that the universe decides who you can and cannot love. So, you date. You date everyone you can find who’s willing to test your theory that you can create love without caring about a silly tattoo but no feelings develop.

“This is not working,” you tell yet another guy that’s been your test subject for the past two weeks. You don’t want to admit that perhaps the tattoo could be a real thing because that means you end up with Sky. The obnoxious specialist who cares way too much about his hair and not enough about how to treat people. You see him date Stella who most definitely is not his soulmate but apparently, neither of them cares.

“I thought things were going pretty good,” he smirks trying to pull you in and as a result bringing you back to the present. You push him away trying not to care about the hurt in his eyes.

“I said we’re done.” You get up and leave feeling the frustration hitting you once again. Why is it so hard to find someone that isn’t meant to be your soulmate? It’s a rhetorical question by the way. All around you people are showing their tattoos to random people in the hopes of finding the one they’re supposed to love for the rest of their lives while your anchor is hidden under three layers of foundation. Four months pass before you slip up. You’re during a speed round of fighting in the ring. Two people in the ring, one punch sends you to the back of the line to wait your turn. If you block, the fight continues. You’re a sweaty mess after an hour and you don’t think twice about wiping your forehead with your wrist. The foundation comes right off leaving your tattoo exposed. It’s not fair that you’ve gotten yours in the most obvious place.

“Would you look at that? Ready to lose?” Someone somewhere in the universe is playing a cruel joke on you. Sky is standing opposite you puffing up his chest after Stella cheered him on. There’s no way in hell you’re losing to him - all worry concerning your tattoo forgotten. The bell goes off and you successfully block every punch he throws at you.

“Give me a real challenge,” you say deliberately provoking him to rush his punch allowing you easy access to the ribs.

“Hey, what is that?” He doesn’t care about losing anymore but you’re standing completely still from pure shock. How could you be so careless? Months of work thrown into the bin because you just had to win.

“Nothing,” you say hiding your hand behind your back.

“Is that an anchor?” he insists stepping towards you.

“No. It’s a clover. Totally not the same thing.” You rush inside hoping you’ll be able to lose him in the sea of students flooding out from the classrooms. You’ll be damned if you fall into the trap of believing the idiotic notion that sharing a tattoo means you must love each other. Eventually, he does find you though.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he says sitting down next to you. You’re not even going to try and run. You’ve been running all day trying to avoid him and still, he seemed to be everywhere you went.

“And now you found me.” You rub your tattoo - a habit you’ve picked up lately as a sign of your nervousness.

“I guess we share a tattoo.” You feel the cool air send a shiver down your spine.

“I guess we do. But I’m not going to date you for that reason.”

“You don’t even know me.” And I don’t want to. Though you can’t make yourself say that. It’s like your mind is purposely trying to keep you from hurting him.

“How about this? Give me 1 hour and if I haven’t convinced you that I’m actually a decent human being then I’ll never bother you again.” You’re saying yes before you even have a chance to think about it. You don’t consider Stella who’s probably pretty upset about this turn of events or the fact that you’ve sworn not to give him the time of day. Apparently, you’re not thinking with your brain anymore. Three hours pass before you notice the time.

“I should go inside.” You don’t move though. You want to deny the truth but he actually seems like a nice guy. It’s crazy how different your perspective can be depending on the situation. Watching him with his friends, he seems like a cocky idiot but with you he’s so different. He’s down to earth, calm and the best part is he’s not trying to impress you with crazy stories of his heroic acts or anything. He’s just Sky who likes to talk about music and once in a while mention a few books that really resonated with him.

“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” he asks completely disregarding what you just said. You shake your head no waiting for him to explain.

“I’ve always wanted to sleep under the open sky.”

“Are you crazy? We’ll freeze to death.” It’s probably a bit of an exaggeration but you’ll definitely freeze. He opens his jacket and looks at you.

“It’s pretty warm if you stay close.” You’re screaming to run far away and ignore just how good he looks right now, but your body isn’t listening. Instead, you cuddle up with him wrapping the jacket tightly around you. That night you stay awake talking about everything and nothing wrapped up in each other’s arms. By sunrise, you know you won’t be able to go back to avoiding him. Your riot has failed.

“Why did you ignore me at first?” Sky asks and you can’t help but laugh.

“I wanted to prove that we weren’t bound by who the universe thought we belonged to. I’m my own person.”

“You can be your own person and still be meant for someone. One doesn’t exclude the other,” Sky reasons and regrettably, you have to agree.

“How do you feel about me now?” he asks. You don’t bother responding instead just leaning in and doing what you’ve been wanting to do for the past few hours. He’s taken by surprise but once he catches up, he’s quick to deepen the kiss.

“I guess pretty good,” he chuckles once you break apart. You can’t hide the smile on your face even if you wanted to. He gently traces the shape of your anchor which has an oddly relaxing effect on you.

“So, you believe in soulmates now? I convinced you?” he asks with a smile.

“You definitely made a good argument for your case.”

#sky x reader #sky blurb #sky imagine #sky gif #sky #winx sky #fate the winx saga #fate the winx club #fate winx club #winx club #winx saga #fate winx #fate #ftws imagine #ftws blurb #ftws #soulmate!au

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authenticmiya · 3 years

Note

Hey could you possibly do a young Johnny x reader where she’s one of the cobra kai’s sisters or something and after everything with Ali she’s there for him and he finally doesn’t see her as just a friend

Out Of The Blue - Johnny Lawrence x Reader

Summary - Reader is Bobby’s twin sister and also the best friend of Johnny Lawrence. Following the breakup with Ali, the reader does everything she can to get Johnny to understand how much she cares for him.

Words - 1.1k

Warnings - fluff

A/N - Oh my gosh! This was my first request, so I hope you enjoyed it! Thankyou so much for giving me an idea to write about! My inbox is always open for anyone else who wants to request!

After the whole beach incident, Johnny was definitely not recovering anytime soon. Not only was he injured physically, but his heart was well and truly broken.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this Y/N.” Your twin brother Bobby admitted to you, as the two of you walked slightly behind the Cobra Kai’s.

“He’s heartbroken Bob, what do you expect? It’s not exactly a walk in the park.” You told him with a frown. Walking towards your first period of the day, it was noticeable how hurt Johnny was. As one of his life-long friends anyway, you’d noticed his whole demeanour do a 180 into more of an asshole.

“Students welcome! Before you take your seats, I have a new seating arrangement in order for your senior year!” Your teacher announced, making all of the students groan in annoyance.

“Tommy and Bobby, you can sit together at the back on the right.” He began listing the names. By the time it was your name being called out, it was just you and Johnny.

“Looks like we’re gonna be Physics partners for the year Johnny.” You smiled and he just nodded. Boy this was going to be one long year. He didn’t speak to you for the whole lesson - despite the attempts of you trying to have a conversation with him.

“Someone pissed in his breakfast this morning.” One of the students snickered but before he could make a comeback, you were quick to beat him.

“You’re gonna be eighteen years old next year, so shut your damn mouthes, assholes.” You snapped, making them turn a blind eye and act clueless.

“Miss Y/N, is there a problem back there?” And you just shook your head no. Johnny looked at you strangely.

“I can handle myself you know?” Johnny told you.

“Funny you should say that, because all I’m trying to do is be a supportive best friend.” You sighed. The class was soon over and you found yourself at your locker.

“Did you hear about Johnny and Ali? I heard he broke her radio at the beach last night.” What was it with kids and their right to gossip about your friend today?

“Yeah you ought to keep his name out your mouth sweet-heart because I’m not having another person talk shit on him.” You slammed your locker door, scaring both of the girls.

“Oh so when you get confronted, you suddenly become silent?” You raised an eyebrow. The Cobra Kai’s watched this whole conversation go down, considering their lockers were only metres from yours.

“Why does she keep doing this?” Johnny couldn’t lose his bad reputation, just because people were talking bad about him. He could handle himself.

“Dude that’s my sister and may I clarify, your best friend. Do you want her to just stand there and have to listen to all of that?” Bobby questioned.

“She’s so in love with you-“ Dutch began.

“Watch your mouth.” Bobby shut him up. But that one comment just stayed on Johnny’s mind for the rest of the day. Were you in love with him? Or was Dutch just trying to get into his head.

“Hey Johnny, wait up!” You called out to him at the end of the day. He was surprisingly on his own.

“You’re not going home right now.” You told him.

“What do you mean Y/N?” Johnny sighed.

“You’re going to get in my car, we’re going to the drive-through, then we could go to Golf N Stuff.” You insisted on all of these activities for one reason, and one reason only. It was your mission to successfully get Johnny over his heartbreak.

“I just want to go home, I’m not really up for anything today.” He went to turn around and you grabbed him by the bicep to prevent him going any further away from you.

“I can deal with you being an asshole all day because you’re heartbroken, but you’ve never denied my request for the drive-through.” You wiggled your eyebrows.

“I can’t just leave my motorcycle here.” Johnny told you.

“I’ll drive you back here after we’ve had food.” You suggested and of course he caved in.

“How you convince me to do all of this stuff, will forever amaze me.” Johnny said as he put his seat-belt on.

“You’ve been there at my worst Johnny, I’d be an awful friend if I didn’t return the favour.” There you went again with the term ‘friend’. Was he overthinking it because he’d just lose his girlfriend? Or was he frustrated that he couldn’t just make you his in a heart-beat? His head and his heart were telling him a million different things.

“Why’d you keep staring at me like that?” You asked him with a chuckle as you pulled up to a red light.

“How’d you know I was staring?”

“I know everything about you Johnny.” You muttered. Once the two of you had your food, you two just sat in your car.

“Thought you were taking us to Golf N Stuff?” Johnny said confused as the two of you remained in the parking lot.

“I just want to talk to you Johnny. You’ve gotta open up to me. Even if you don’t want to. I know how your brain thinks, it’s eating you up and no offence, but you’ve turned into more of an asshole.” That’s what he loved about you, the honesty. No wait? Loved about you? What?

“I guess seeing her with Larusso wasn’t what I was expecting. I know it’s been a few weeks, but I at least thought she’d still, you know? Want to be my girlfriend.” He admitted.

“A guy shows up out of the blue and you felt threatened. You’re allowed to be. The heart works in mysterious ways Johnny. It’s going to hurt for a while, but you’ll be okay.” You reassured him.

“And I can promise you, and I mean really promise you, that I’ll always have your back. Even if you don’t want me to, I’m not gonna stand there and take anyone’s bullshit. We’ve been best friends since we were in diapers.” He chuckled, trying to reminisce the days when you guys were kids.

“You don’t know how much that means to me Y/N.” Johnny felt his heart beat faster, not in a dangerous way, but a loving way.

“I do these things because I care and worry about you. As much as you don’t want to show this heartbroken act, I’ll always be your shoulder to cry on.” You side-hugged him as you two were still in the car.

“Thank-you Y/N. I guess I need a girl to talk to, considering you’ll probably listen to me a lot more than the guys, and take it seriously.” He told you.

“Don’t worry about thanking me Johnny. Who knows, maybe one day we’ll end up married?” You joked, but who’s to say that wouldn’t be the case in the future?

#cobra kai imagine #cobra Kai #Johnny Lawrence imagine #Johnny Lawrence x reader #the karate kid

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ladykissingfish · 3 years

Text

Under the Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part Eight // Kakuzu

What is with this group and wasting their free time doing such inane and pointless things? The old guy can think of at least 50 other activities (the majority of which involve making money) that everyone could be doing, rather than lining up to kiss each under a little green plant. When it’s his turn in the spotlight, he tries as hard as he can to back out of his “obligation” ... but Pein (and Kakuzu’s own persistent partner, Hidan) insist that Kakuzu participate. Kakuzu sighs and nods; he’s smart enough to know when he’s been defeated. However, Pein should know that Kakuzu will be adding a little extra money to his paycheck that week, for “hazard pay”.

Pein

Nagato was more interested in Kakuzu joining his group than any of the others. Immortality, money-sense, expertise and wisdom ... this is the man who survived the wars of the past. This is the man who survived the mighty Hashirama, God of all shinobi. Still, Nagato is no fool; he realizes that Kakuzu’s number one priority in life isn’t the Akatsuki, but money. Kakuzu would probably (and had likely thought about) betray them all in exchange for a tidy sum. So Nagato (as Pein) works to keep Kakuzu content enough to remain loyal, including making him the group’s treasurer and giving him complete control over everyone’s finances. And Kakuzu remains highly useful; strategizing, completing missions twice as fast (and ten times as efficient) as his younger teammates. Pein approaches Kakuzu and gives him a light kiss on the forehead, before returning to his room. He reminds himself to speak to Kakuzu later; he has some ideas about weapons he’d like to procure for the group, and needs to see if it would be financially feasible to do so.

Konan

Kakuzu genuinely likes Konan, and appreciates her company. Many men of Kakuzu’s generation were raised on the belief system that women were solely meant to be wives, child-bearers, and home-makers; to call a female a ninja was deemed unthinkable. But Kakuzu was a rarity in that he never saw this as being the case; man or woman, one’s inner strength was all that mattered in regards to being a shinobi. He’s spoken with Konan at length about her childhood, and the trauma she endured, and he knows that this little blue-haired lady is a sight tougher than a LOT of people (and Kakuzu’s met quite a few in his long life). Konan walks up to him and he smiles; it’s rare for Kakuzu to smile, but Konan brings it out of him. “Good evening, Kakuzu-san. I think it’s my turn.” He nods, and slips off his mask so that his lips are exposed. He leans down and very, very gently kisses her cheek. Her blushing skin is soft and her smile is beautiful as she thanks him and steps away, to let the next person go.

Kisame

Nobody knows this about Kakuzu (and he fears he would be mocked if they did), but the old guy puts a lot of emphasis on the idea of exercise. Five hearts is a lot of responsibility, and staying healthy is how Kakuzu intends to keep living forever. So every night, when the others are asleep and after he’s done with his reading, he’ll spend some time in his room exercising. One night Kisame passed by his open door and saw him using a pair of heavy books as make-shift weights. The next evening Kisame came to Kakuzu’s room with a set of real barbells , which he casually gave to Kakuzu with the admonition not to overdo it. Kakuzu greatly appreciated the gesture (and the unspoken support), and the two have been good friends ever since. But ... a kiss between them would just be too strange, so Kisame comes up with a better option: an arm-wrestling match, Kisame grabs the kitchen table and two chairs and sets them up under the mistletoe. Of course the rest of the Akatsuki gathers to watch, hooting and hollering and placing bets on who will win. Kisame and Kakuzu are both fairly evenly matched, so that challenge goes on for a while. Finally, with a final grunt of exertion, Kakuzu is able to slam Kisame’s hand into the table. Everyone claps, and Kisame laughs and tells Kakuzu that he’s “one tough son of a bitch”; high compliment coming from a man who was half-shark.

Itachi

Out of all the members of the Akatsuki, Itachi was by far the least problematic of the younger ones. Quiet, thoughtful, quick and efficient in completing missions. And polite; always forthcoming with “please” and “thank you”, and never failing to use honorifics with the others, even though some of them (ie Deidara and Hidan) don’t show him that same respect back. One time Kakuzu had caught a cold that stubbornly hung on for several days. Itachi came to his room every day with a cup of congestion-easing tea, something that Kakuzu didn’t ask for, but greatly appreciated nonetheless. Itachi comes up to him and nods. “Kakuzu-san.” “Itachi-san.” Itachi leans up and gives him a light kiss to the cheek, and Kakuzu is struck by a particular urge — to hug this kid. Something about him, perhaps everything about him, seems like a cry for parental love and affection. Kakuzu resists this odd impulse, but Itachi seems to sense that it’s something he wanted, because he leans over again and very briefly puts his arms around the older man. “Thank you,” he murmurs, before walking away. Kakuzu watches him go, slightly shaking his head.

Tobi

Tobi gives Kakuzu an uneasy feeling deep within his heart(s). Running around, speaking loudly, eating nothing but candy and sweets, acting like a complete fool — it’s an act. Kakuzu has never been more convinced of anything in his life. The only question is, why is Tobi putting on this act? To deceive them all into a false sense of security, before striking? Kakuzu has hunted bounties a good deal of his life, and a lot of the more difficult ones to catch have acted EXACTLY the way Tobi does, in order to throw off potential bounty hunters. Kakuzu learned to see through them, the same way he sees through Tobi. But to tip one’s hand and give away what you know is unthinkable in the chase and capture game, so Kakuzu never lets on what he actually believes. “Oh boy Kakuzu-san; does Tobi get a kissy now?!” Kakuzu nods, and Tobi slides his mask halfway off (Kakuzu notes the lines on the side of his face; accident, most likely. Possibly a disfiguring one) and the strange glint of his eye. Before Tobi can act, Kakuzu puts a hand on his face and kisses his forehead. “There. Now go.” Tobi slides the mask back on and hurries away with his usual chatter and giggling, and Kakuzu reminds himself to loom through the bingo book later for bounties with visible scarring on the left side of the face.

Zetsu

Five hearts means more blood needed to sustain said hearts. More blood means a stronger scent. A stronger scent means ... Kakuzu smells delicious to someone like Zetsu. Zetsu approaches him and looks around quickly; the two are alone. His brain runs through every possible scenario in which he could successfully kill and eat Kakuzu. He’s victorious in a few ... but most end with him mutilated by the man’s tentacles, and having to face the wrath of Pein on top of everything else. So he simply sighs, flicks out his tongue to taste the saltiness of Kakuzu’s cheek, and walks away again. Just that one taste was almost enough to make zetsu throw restraint to the wind and eat his fill, so he leaves before he can do anything he’ll regret. Kakuzu wipes off his cheek in mild disgust ... in a group full of freaks, Zetsu certainly seemed to take the cake.

Deidara

Kakuzu still remembers the day they brought this kid into the group. And that’s exactly what he was; a kid. Barely 15 years old, with a powerful “gift”, and full of anger at a village he felt betrayed him in not trying to understand his unique sense of ‘art’. Fast forward several years later and Deidara had changed, and most of that change was the better. Kakuzu could only surmise that the kid matured due to the constant council and guidance of his older and wiser partner Sasori; Kakuzu feels mildly jealous that Sasori was able to reign some measure of improvement over HIS young partner, but Kakuzu couldn’t do a thing with Hidan. Still, though, even Sasori hadn’t been able to completely tame the kid, as evidenced by Deidara managing to get BOTH arms blown off in a tussle with some Konoha nin. Kakuzu had been tasked with sewing his new arms back on, but to the kids credit, despite his painful the procedure had been, he didn’t utter a sound. Had even thanked Kakuzu, twice, afterwards. Deidara walks up to him and looks almost shy; 19 years old now and still with the face of a child. Kakuzu leans down and kisses the kid’s forehead, again noting his soft and smooth — and LONG — his hair was. It sways as Deidara walks away, and Kakuzu wonders how much he could get for those luscious locks, from the right buyer.

Sasori

Respect. Out of all the words that Kakuzu could use to describe how he felt about Sasori, Respect was at the top of the list. And the funny thing was, Kakuzu hadn’t even met the REAL Sasori until almost a year of being in the Akatsuki. The two had been sent on a mission, and at night, near the campfire, a soft metal sound made Kakuzu turn his head. It was a small, slender redhead, emerging from the being that Kakuzu had THOUGHT was a real person. The two had looked at each other for a while, and then started a game of cards as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As time went on, the two became closer. They both shared an interest in/knowledge of medical jutsu and procedures, and would often come to one another with questions or with articles on different medicines. Kakuzu nods at him as he walks up, and Sasori does the same. He thinks about it, bends down and kisses Sasori’s left cheek, and Sasori smiles at him, bidding him a quiet Good Evening before going back to his room.

Hidan

“Hey old fuck; you’ve been dying to get your hands on my sexy body all day, haven’t ya, pervert?” Kakuzu would roll his eyes at Hidan’s comment, but at this point, he’s ridiculously used to the things his partner says and does. As he looks at Hidan’s face, he wonders, and not for the first time, whether this is a punishment of sorts. Gaining five hearts and creating a kind of immortality only came for Kakuzu at the end of a long and bloody road, one paved with the unwilling sacrifices of other people. Was it Fate, that the Gods had put THIS man, this loud, overbearing, foul-mouthed heathen, into his path? And as the one person who just might be immortal, too? Hidan often joked about “When all these other assholes bite the big one, me and you might as well get married, bastard.” But what in the world was he saying? Surely he was joking; why would someone as young and attractive as Hidan want to be with Kakuzu? Kakuzu who was heaven knows how many times Hidan’s age, and — “So we gonna slobber each other or what?” “You’ve got a big mouth, brat. Learn to shut up once in a while.” “MAKE me shut up, fuck-face.” So Kakuzu grabs Hidan around the waist, tilts him back, and sinks into his lips. Kakuzu’s mouth is rough and scarred but Hidan’s is smooth and soft, and the contrast creates a dizzying effect for both men. Hidan grasps Kakuzu’s shoulders tighter, leaving slight nail-prints in Kakuzu’s flesh. Their lips are touching but in this moment it feels like everything is touching, even their very souls (if either of them still had one, that is). When Kakuzu finally breaks the kiss and pulls Hidan back up, the white-haired immortal seems fairly disorientated ... but that doesn’t stop his mouth. “You’re an even bigger pervert than I thought, old fuck. Who the hell said you could stick your tongue in my mouth?? And why —” Kakuzu suddenly reaches out and grabs Hidan’s face with both hands, this time pulling him forward into a very soft, closed-mouth kiss. “Better?” Instead of a smartass answer, Hidan simply nods; and now he’s smiling as he walks away. If he were to turn around at any point, he’d surely gasp; because Kakuzu’s smile was even bigger than Hidan’s own. “Stupid kid,” Kakuzu mutters to himself, still smiling as he makes his way back to his room.

#the akatsuki #under the mistletoe #kissing #kakuzu #hidan #konan #pein #tobi #deidara #sasori #kisame #itachi uchiha #zetsu

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bagadew · 3 years

Text

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Case of the Unbreakable Speckled Band (Part 3b)

Last Time: After being discovered in Miss Pavlova’s cabin, things didn’t go as badly for us as we thought they would. In fact we got to dance around with Herlock Sholmes the Himbo Detective and discovered that Susato (and presumably someone at Capcom) really knows a lot about snakes, Nikolina has a pet kitten called Darka, and Kazuma apparently died by tripping over said kitten in a tragic accident. However, while it would probably be the best explanation for everyone involved, I’m not entirely sure it’s true as it still doesn’t explain the fact the crime scene was clearly tampered with.

Well it seems that, like me, Susato’s not entirely convinced Nikolina’s telling us the truth.

In fact, it looks like she’s sure of it.

You know, I didn’t expect to feel conflicted about finding Kazuma’s killer, but I kind of do...

Like, I came into this fully expecting to feel hatred and anger towards whoever did this. I was expecting to confront some hateful villain on a par with Miss Brett or Manfred Von Karma and to take satisfaction and vengeance in taking them down... but this isn’t that. There’s no conspiracy, no big untouchable threat, there’s just an abused and scared little girl who probably killed Kazuma because she thought he was going to kill her.

I don’t expect to feel good about taking Nikolina down. I think it’ll feel like when we had to go for Adrian Andrews... only this time she’s actually guilty.

I don’t have anything to add to Susato’s speech, other than it feels important to put it up, and it seems like a good show of who Susato is as a person.

You know, I’ve had a little difficulty pinning Susato down until now, but I think I’ve finally got her. Susato Mikotoba is a woman who believes in truth and justice, and will go to great lengths to reveal it... even if it hurts far more than the lie ever did.

Herlock’s been quiet for a while now, and I don’t think he’s still reeling from the snake business. It’s difficult to read his expression with his hat like that, so I can’t tell if he’s running through the crime scene in his mind, or if Susato’s words have struck a cord with him.

Wait WHAT?

Ah, ok. Herlock basically been using this whole thing as a distraction, and was planning to give everything over to Scotland Yard once we arrived home so they could deal with any ‘outstanding issues’.

(Also he’s handcuffed us again)

It hadn’t quite clicked before, but no one’s actually considered what Ryunosuke must be feeling. His best friend has just been murdered, and all almost everyone has done, has been to accuse him of killing him. Even among Hosonaga, and later Susato, Ryunosuke hasn’t got to really talk about his feelings, and I’m not sure if anyone’s actually given him the opportunity to do so.

With the next stop looming ever closer, I know we don’t exactly have the time to talk right now, but I hope Ryunosuke gets the chance once this is all done.

Ok, let’s do this.

Let’s run through what we know doesn’t fit so far:

1) The writing in Russian: not only is it in the wrong language but Kazuma died instantly, meaning that there’s next to no way he wrote this himself, and absolutely no way he did it if he died tripping over a kitten.

2) The ships log has been left blank from after 2am, meaning that who ever was probably in on it.

3) Half of Darka’s bell somehow found it’s way in Nikolina’s bin, meaning someone must have taken it from the crime scene.

4) If someone went into the cabin (which they must have done) they have to have pressed the emergence alarm after they left.

Let’s start with the biggest contradiction shall we? The photographic print.

Oh Nikolina, that’s not the issue here.

Ryunosuke’s got it.

Well done Ryunosuke.

I’m trying to work out what this could be. The bell half perhaps? But that’s something that was taken away surely.

Ok, so just something that proves it wasn’t an accident. Well I’m not too sure if it’s what I’m supposed to be looking for here, but I’ll present the mark on the floor and see what happens.

Oh thank god!

Well, not exactly Hosonaga, while it’s true that the tripped kitten explanation does explain how the bell was broken, it doesn’t explain why half of it made its way out of Kazuma’s room and into Nikolina’s bin.

Exactly Ryunosuke!

So, now that we’ve successfully proved someone was at the crime scene, let’s start working out who could have done it.

(TBH I still think that, while Nikolina killed Kazuma, Stroganoff was the person who tampered with the crime scene. The writing just feels a bit too calculated to be Nikolina, especially if she killed Kazuma out of fear.)

Ah, I was wondering when you’d have enough Stroganoff.

He’s basically saying that we already know I (Ryunosuke) was in the room, and that if what I’m saying is true then it has to be me as the door was bolted from the inside.

However, as I (both Ryunosuke and me) have zero knowledge of Russian, it’s impossible for me to have written the message. What we do have however, is knowledge as to how the door was bolted from the outside, which we must be getting close to revealing.

That’s... a really good question actually. Why didn’t they just take the whole thing?

Ah, I see. I was looking at this from the eyes of someone from the modern era of electric lights, rather than with the eyes of someone who lives with jolly old Victorian lighting. The floor wasn’t visible enough to make out half of a cats bell.

Shit... she’s their kid...

You know, while we still don’t know exactly how Nikolina came onboard this ship, I’d kind of assumed that the sailors (or perhaps someone affiliated with them) had found her trying to stow away or hiding down by the docks, and taken pity on her and decided to help her out. Because, I thought, there was no way Nikolina would reach out to strangers for help, given how scared she is. But the answer is that they weren’t strangers. They were family.

That’s why they’ve all been ready to risk everything without hesitation, even if it means covering up a murder. She’s their kid, and I’m about to make them watch it all be for nothing.

Yeah, Ryunosuke... it is...

(I love the way these spirits combine together. Nikolina looks even smaller and younger next to Stroganoff, and her hiding behind him while his fighting stance partly shields her does a good job of showing how things are for them right now. It makes me think of images of cornered animals protecting their young.)

Because he’s lying, but then I think you’ve already figured that out.

My time has come.

Susato, it’s ok. I’ve got this, you don’t need to make us look bad by suggesting things you know aren’t true.

DON’T PASS THE BUCK TO ME!!!

(Again, me an Rynosuke operate on the same wavelength now)

OH MY GOD, THE HIMBO DETECTIVE MADE A PROPER DEDICATION ALL ON HIS OWN!!!

HELL YEAH I DO!!!

Look at him go! He’s even using Susato’s fancy words to explain it!

And there goes the bolt on the door!

Now we’re explaining that the emergency stop button can be pressed at various different points around the ship, including, crucially, just outside these two cabins.

Oh Susato, you know as well as I do that this whole things had Herlock’s fingerprints all over it.

(Important information, along with not being trusted with a pet, do not trust Herlock Sholmes with any machinery or control panels)

To be honest this is the appropriate reaction. We’re at sea Herlock! Don’t mess with the thing that stands between us and drowning!

Herlock ‘But Did You Die’ Sholmes: Now lets not lose sight of the fact I got us evidence.

And the worst part is that he’s right.

Not if you drugged everyone!

I think it’s finally time to bring up the blank ships log.

Ok team, Herlock’s in charge of our excuses from now on!

We’re going through the fact that the log was blank, which with Stroganoff’s meticulous ritual of writing: Nothing to Report, every half hour on the dot, means that there definitely was something to report.

We sure are suggesting that Susato!

Not if you were drugged Hosonaga!

HE MADE ANOTHER PROPER DEDUCTION!!! I’M SO PROUD!!!

Ok, have the drugs finally worn off on Herlock’s brain, because he’s saying really smart things now. Or is it just that he’s taking things seriously rather than using this whole thing as a distraction?

Susato’s got it too!

So, because it’s such a large scale job, it couldn’t have been pulled off by any one person, meaning that the entire crew must have been in on it.

(Poor drugged Hosonaga, they really identified you weren’t one of them the second you set foot on this ship didn’t they?)

Now see, the problem with this strategy, is that while Bif might not be happy about the rest of his crew getting into trouble, I feel like this is a Murder on the Orient Express scenario, in the sense that everyone involved fully acknowledge the risks and came into this prepared to go down if necessary.

Yeah, he’s not happy, but he’s not cracking.

In fact, I’m not sure anything could cause him to crack. He is the one person’s standing between Nikolina and (potentially) death. I can’t see any way he’s going to back down.

I understand now, Herlock wasn’t aiming for him. Because they’re Nikolina’s family too.

It seems to be just like we suspected. Nikolina asked them to help her escape, and so, as one, the crew agreed to help her. They put sleeping drugs in the chicken so no one would notice what was happening, and got one of their comrades on the shore of Shanghai to take her to the ship at midnight.

Here’s the problem we have now though. Now she’s covering for them. Even if I’m wrong about Stroganoff or another member of the crew writing the message, the ships log means that they either knew or found out, and I can’t imagine they would have sat by and done nothing.

Wait a second though. We met Nikolina in her cabin, which means she must have got back inside some way or another. She couldn’t have done that if she was the one who pressed the alarm. I think this could be a way to establish someone must have helped her.

They’re still fighting, and to be honest I didn’t expect anything else. They’re both protecting each other now and it’s going to take nothing but evidence to make them budge.

I’m going to be perfectly honest Herlock, you’ve kind of lost me.

In fact I think you’ve lost most of the room...

ITS TIME FOR DANCE OF DEDUCTION 3: I WAS HOPPING I’D HAVE UNTIL THE NEXT CASE TO THINK UP A NAME!

Ryunosuke, don’t play dumb. We must dance!

(Or observe, that’s good too)

Right, well we’ve worked out Stroganoff was the one who did the fabrication, so we should probably focus on him first.

Got you.

To be honest I’m at a loss as to how he got some of the ink round there. Perhaps he knocked the ink over when he was sorting the crime scene out.

Or perhaps it was on his finger and he accidentally rubbed it over when he held his hands like this?

... I thought so...

So, just after one in the morning, Bif was patrolling the corridor when a scared an pail Nikolina came up to him desperate for help. He followed her to Kazuma’s cabin and found him on the floor. Apparently the event before went on like Nikolina said, only instead of luring Darka through the vent, she went next door because she was worried about the sounds she’d heard through the vent.

... he’s still shielding her isn’t he?

I think Susato knows it too.

The problem is, that Nikolina’s following Bif’s lead. Perhaps if we had the chance to talk to her alone we’d know we were getting the truth, but not with Bif there. And to be honest I’m not sure I can really blame either of them for that.

I’m not 100% sure to be honest. And I don’t think I will be until this case is closed.

I’ll take that as not being done then.

I have no idea...

(His fist was closed, could that be the issue?)

(Thank you god of video games!)

OPEN WITH THAT NEXT TIME HERLOCK!

Yeah, we’re not going to be able to guess!

Nikolina’s earring!

Which he couldn’t have had if he was dead when she came in!

(Stroganoff’s face seems to suggest that we’ve reached the final curtain.)

I don’t think either of them can explain away this.

(Again, lead with the earring next time Herlock)

Things are in the right order now.

He let her in. He thought she was Hosonaga so he let her in.

It’s all going fine right now, but we know how this ends.

Of course he did, just by looking at Nikolina you can see she’s been through a lot, and besides, Kazuma has a secret all of his own.

Here we go. Whatever it might be, the thing that triggered Nikolina’s survival instinct is coming.

Ah shit...

You know, since the moment Darka disappeared through that vent, I’m not sure things were ever going to end differently. Kazuma was always going to open the door, he was always going to help the frightened girl he found there, and being the incredibly quick man that he was, he was always going to recognize her.

And Kazuma was always going to want to look into the situation, and that was always going to tip Nikolina into a panic. And then sooner or later she was going to lash out in what seemed to her to be necessary self defence.

Here it is.

Oh!?

So this wasn’t the trigger. But then what was?

Oh no. He was going to get Ryunosuke from the wardrobe. The wardrobe Nikolina couldn’t possibly grasp the significance of, but that was right next to the bell cord.

(Also didn’t I say the captain was somehow to blame?)

(What do you guys say we chalk it up to him and put this whole business behind us?)

(And yes I do know that I’m stalling again)

... in a panic you struck out... and he stumbled... and hit his head on the way down...

I see, so Darka put him off balance first. And so when you pushed him he he hit his head on the bedpost.

Fear, adrenaline, and a lack of judgment due to stress and trauma. Perhaps if this had happened on any day other than the one where you’d just fled things would have been different, but maybe not. It’s hard to tell.

And we know the rest...

Stroganoff cleared away as much of Nikolina’s presence as he could find, and in doing so found Ryunosuke asleep in the wardrobe. It must have seemed like fate was giving him a stranger who could take the fall instead of his kid.

So Nikolina was the one who ‘cleared away’ the bell. That explain why some of it was left behind, and why it ended up in her bin. Stroganoff would probably have thrown it overboard.

What’s that?

I see, that’s a good question.

What he said about the inspector...

Oh dear.

Hosonaga, you were literally drugged at the time, and I’m still pretty sure you were set up to fail (which does raise the question of what would have happened to Kazuma if Nikolina hadn’t killed him)

Susato?

I see, she’s realized that he was going for Ryunosuke, thus slotting the final piece of this whole tragedy neatly into place.

(These two cases are really going all out in very different ways. The next one better let me relax and have fun Maskqu de Masque style. I’m not sure I can take much more of this.)

Here it comes, the unnecessariness of the whole murder.

Yeah...

:((

Ryunosuke’s best friend has been murdered because of the misunderstandings of a child, and he’s been raked over the coals because of that. While it might not be the kindest thing to say for Nikolina, it’s an important thing to say for Ryunosuke, and I feel he’s justified in saying it.

In fact it would probably be a bad sign if he didn’t say this. He’s as much of a victim in this whole affair as anyone. I’m glad he’s at least getting an apology from Nikolina, even though it’s unfortunately gone past the point where that would be useful.

It’s finally over, and just as I predicted it doesn’t feel good.

HOSONAGA SATURO YOU HEAL LIKE A CHAMP!

‘It’s just a scratch’, you said.

‘Go to a hospital’, we cried.

‘No need, just give me a few hours to click my face back into position and pass me back my glasses lenses and I’ll be fine’

Hosonaga, you are unkillable and this is exactly why you’re superiors had to resort to shipping you out.

Ok, enough fun declaring Hosonaga to be our new god. Let’s go back to the serious and depressing business of Nikolina.

So, it seems like Nikolina will be handed over to Scotland Yard, and Herlock will sort things out with the immigrations office so she doesn’t have to go back to Russia.

Also the way they’re talking about her future means that she’s not going to be executed (thank god), which makes sense given that she committed manslaughter rather than murder. Whether or not she goes to prison will probably depend on the judge as, while she has the fact that she’s a white female child, she is also not English and speaks with a strong accent, and therefore, is going to be subjected to a lot of Xenophobia.

Hm?

Ah.

Again, I’m glad Ryunosuke’s getting these apologies.

Wait, are you sure Stroganoff? Like yeah, you’re not going to get done for murder, and the whole defending a kid thing will play of pretty well in court (plus the man you accused wasn’t English and has a less white skin tone than you). But you are also a Russian man with a strong accent and you won’t be able to fall back on being a child or let the evils of sexism and xenophobia fight each other.

Well at least we’re free again, even if we’re in a worst place than when we started.

You know he will Ryunosuke. And given how well he was defending her till now, I think he might just succeed.

But we have to get to England to make Kazuma’s dream come true!

Herlock, can you come to us again in our hour of need? I know we have a lot of them but...

(I swear to god this game is shooting for my jugular)

We’re holding Kazuma’s sword, aka, his spirit. Please don’t make me let it go game.

Is it too much to ask for them to hug? I think they both need it.

Hold us Hosonaga.

(Though not me (Eleanor). Instinct tells me we must remain two meters apart so our weird lungs don’t accidentally take each other out.)

(I cannot be the person who killed Hosonaga)

(And yes I am trying to lighten the mood with my talk of genetic lung conditions because I’m aware it’s only going to get sadder)

(Told you)

There was nothing you could have done Hosonaga, and it’s become my own private mission now to find a way to prove that to you.

:(((

Game are we going to have to sail to England on Hosonaga’s guilt?

I’m aware that you’ve got a whole fun game lined up over there, but is this really the only way?

Can’t we just go to Japanfornia instead, track down Amy Fey (if she’s even been born yet) and get Kazuma back on our team?

No... ok...

Exactly!

WHAT! WHY AM I BACK IN HANDCUFFS!??

HERLOCK SHOLMES COME OUT HERE RIGHT NOW, THIS IS ONLY A LITTLE BIT FUNNY!

He’s amusing himself at least...

(You know what, I’ve decided right now that this is a family friendly blog, so no, I’m not going to say what I’m thinking. You can’t make me.)

Also read the room Herlock, the three of us were having a moment!

Nice save.

Ryunosuke’s trying to throw himself under the buss and send Susato and Herlock and Hosonaga off to go live out the rest of the game without him.

Sorry Ryunosuke, but you’re the protagonist. We can’t leave without you.

That’s it! Ryunosuke, you’re naturally good at lawyering! It’s time for you to take up Kazuma’s mantle!

Am I chopped liver to you Susato?

Are we doing a studying montage on the ship over?

Yes Ryunosuke!

Training montage Hosonaga!

You can help! Teach me how to be the crime scene thief and not give a damn!

(Actually on second thoughts, maybe you should sit this one out and offer moral support instead)

Said Hosonaga, knowing that I wasn’t.

(*Eye of the tiger starts to play*)

I CAN LEARN ENOUGH TO WING IT HOSONAGA!

HELL YEAH!!!

Oh good, I’d forgotten about Kazuma’s morally ambiguities loose end.

(Probably because every character I fancy has one of them and it’s no longer anything to write home about.)

Let’s do this Susato, me an you all the way!

Hosonaga? You cool too?

Wait, now is not the time to be sensible Hosonaga! Remember when we got Miss Brett? That was against protocol and it meant we got to see her take off via her big hat! (Although we didn’t get justice and it ended with you being shipped out, but let’s not dwell on that.)

Hosonaga normally (while shovelling three tables worth of crockery into his bag): Nothing will get in my way! I’ll lay my life on the line if I have to! I will strait up ignore the rules if I think they are unjust!

Hosonaga when Herlock is present: I have never broken a rule in my life, nor would I ever do so. I am the most sensible and down to earth man you will ever meet, please ignore the way I am dressed right now.

What happened Hosonaga, did you watch me and Herlock doing our dance of deduction and immediately decided someone had to be the adult and it might as well be you?

Or... did watching Herlock roll around on the floor and cling like a limpet to the walls make you wonder that this is how you come across?

Because to be honest you were loudly declaring yourself the Crime Scene Thief just last trial... so I don’t think you’ll ever be able to create too much contrast in our eyes.

Come on Crime Scene Thief!

Herlock’s aiming right for Hosonaga’s canonically shit schooling with those words.

Remember who you are Hosnaga! You’re the badass who lay his life on the line for us!

(I like how much Herlock’s talking Ryunoskue up, I guess this makes up for the fact he handcuffed us again for the asthenic)

Hooray!!! Hosonaga’s taking us to Disneyland England!

“Hello, this is Saturo Hosanaga. Just calling to say that I’ve done it again... yes I understand that my breaking the rules makes you sad, but I simply will not stop... well you see, they’re unfair and heavily biased in your favour. Also we both know if you could have stopped me you would have done so long ago. Goodbye.”

Capcom! Stop trying to make me get to England off of Hosonaga’s guilt!

Allow me to come with you, or at the very least please borrow the KBS (Kazuma’s big sword) for protection.

Goodbye Hosonaga... until we meet again...

But (and I need to make this very clear Capcom gods) not my mentor!

The KBS!

We will guard this with our lives!

(Karuma huh? That name sounds faintly familiar.)

(Ok Google, now play Eye Of The Tiger)

WE ARN’T DOING THIS AGAIN CAPCOM! PUT THOSE DEATH FLAGS DOWN!

Oh thank god, she just wants to be even!

Ryunosuke, are you sure you’re even able to do that?

You heard the lady Ryunosuke. (And no this totally isn’t because I want to see if you’re even able to do it.)

Booo

Herlock, I love you, but...

KICK HIS ASS SUSATO!!!

WHY ME!!!

Poor sweet Ryunosuke...

Ah, I see it’s time to be sad again.

Oh Kazuma, what were you up to?

Anyways, that’s it for The Adventure of the Unbreakable Speckled Band. Join me next time for The Adventure of the Runaway Room!

#tgaa #tgaa spoilers #the great ace attorney #the adventure of the unbreakable speckled band #ryunosuke naruhodo #susato mikotoba #herlock sholmes #satoru hosonaga #and for what is probably the last time:#nikolina pavlova #bif strogenov #and...#kazuma asougi

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 127

Annnnd a-one, and a-two, and a queue-queue-queue!

This chapter has one of my favorite things in the world to write - Interpersonal relationships (if you are surprised, I’m going to assume you are new here....).

Specifically, one of my biggest pet-peeves is when friends or siblings are written in a way that shows that the author doesn’t actually have any friends or siblings they are close enough to that all rules of societal politeness go whizzing into some far-off dimension as soon as they are in proximity.

When I get to write a chapter with such close friends/ersatz-siblings and also have @baelpenrose cackling and egging me on, it literally makes my whole day.

P.S: If anyone has wondered about the ages of the characters, several are clearly lined out in this chapter......

EDIT: Fixed some insane formatting issues.

“The food festival, Sophia? Really?” an incredulous voice asked before the door to my office even opened all the way.

I resisted the urge to scream, but did surrender to pinching the bridge of my nose and breathing slowly. “Hello, Arthur. Do come in. Long time no see. Of course I’m not busy…” My one day each week to have a few hours to myself - no mentees, no assistant, even Tyche was off work….

“We saw each other last night when I came over for dinner after sparring with Conor, and you’re never busy on Saturdays, Alistair makes sure of it.” He dragged a chair in front of my desk for what I felt was the sole purpose of putting his boots on my desk instead of the conference table.

“I thought you two didn’t even like each other, how did you - “

He waved a hand dismissively. “Enemy of my best friend’s enemy is my friend, that sort of thing. Anyway - “

“Did you just call me my own worst - “

“You are, let’s not pretend otherwise. Anyway.” Arthur arched an eyebrow at me and waited for any further objections, but I couldn’t think of any. “The Food Festival. It’s my one favorite tradition on this ship until armed combat becomes a spectator sport, and you are putting Parvati and Hannah in charge of it?”

After a beat pause to make sure he was done, I glared at him. “Everyone has asked me that, and I don’t understand the issue. They’ve both helped in the past, even before they started training to replace me. I’ve handed more and more off to them each time, and they did great! Plus, they have three months, it will be fi - Wait, why do you even care, Arthur?”

He held up one finger with the authority of a deity who would have smited me if he could. “One, Parvati Fletcher does not like mapo tofu. You do. Specifically, you like it from that one vendor who grows her own Sichuan peppercorns and uses them like they are an infinite resource. Two, I spend entirely too much time working with Zach Khan, and he won’t shut up about how stressed Hannah is. Three - “ I was seriously starting to get concerned he actually could smite me at this point - “As much as I love you in the most platonic way possible, you are an obsessive, compulsive perfectionist who insists on doing everything herself and running herself into the ground so that everyone else has the time of their lives. So why are you trusting this, the largest and oldest event on the Ark, entirely to other people?” Dropping his boots from the desk, he leaned forward, palms down until we were nearly nose to nose.

“Sophia Reid, I swear on any god I can kill if you are dying…”

“WHAT!?” I squawked, jerking back and standing so fast I knocked my chair over. “For the love of little fish, I’m not dying! I haven’t had a near death experience in four years, thank you.”

“Three, not counting the fact that there is a reason Alistair makes you drink anything through a straw anymore.”

“How did - Nevermind.” I shook my head and tried to focus on the topic at hand. “No, I’m not dying. Nor am I injured, having a midlife crisis, rethinking my life choices any more than I ever do, or so much as in possession of a stuffy nose.” Taking a deep breath, I rolled my eyes and started counting off before I could stop myself. “Conor and Maverick and I are fine. No, I’m not arguing with Tyche again. Yes, I’m still going to therapy. Else is fine. No new sentient plagues or rogue cult leaders that I’m aware of. Nor have I become immortal, queen of the universe, savior of humanity, pregnant by Noah, or possessed.” Carefully, I picked my chair back up and sat down.

“Good...to… know?” He gave me a funny look. “Who asked the most disturbing one?”

“Immortal or Savior of Humanity?” I asked for clarification. “Those were Maverick and Derek, respectively.”

The look only got worse. “I meant ‘pregnant by Noah’, but fascinating to see where your priorities lie….?”

“Oh. That was Charly.”

“Dammit,” he swore softly. “I had her pegged for ‘possessed’.”

“I’m pretty sure she is, but the suggestion that I am came from Tyche, on no fewer than 3 occasions, by 4 different entities. She seemed pretty hopeful that Else was potentially mind-controlling me in an effort to make me take a nap,” I admitted.

“That tracks.” A nod of approval prefaced the question I had been avoiding - successfully, thus far, I might add. “Now that you’ve ruled out every possible plausible reason that you would entrust this to literally anyone other than a clone of yourself, why?”

“Why what?” My face was composed in an expression of innocence so convincing that I probably deserved an Oscar.

“I can and will convince Charly to turn all your coffee to decaf, so help me, Sophia.”

Realizing that he was, legitimately, worried about me and at the limits of his usually-impressive patience, I held up my hands in surrender. “Fine. You get the scoop. Please record this and send me the loop, so I can just flick it at people who ask, please?” When he nodded, I exhaled slowly. “It is no secret to anyone that I never wanted this job. I made the mistake of establishing the Food Festival, which as you point out is the largest event of the cycle on the Ark - the last three years, literally everyone attended in some capacity.” When he opened his mouth to argue, I held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the Festival. What basically started out as a potluck because we were homesick and needed to meet - you know, the rest of humanity - is a huge, three day holiday. It’s amazing!” I spun in my chair, arms flung wide for emphasis, before stopping to face him.

“It also consumes my life, for months, to prepare for. And that’s just implementing changes to make it more accessible so people don’t miss out! That doesn’t include adding things to make it more interesting or keep it from getting boring, or whatever. I literally don’t have time to do any of that!”

“So, you’re inflicting this on them instead?”

“Inflicting?” I snorted. “Hardly. This is their final exam, their capstone project, their dissertation. If they pull this off, I will gladly hand the entire office over to whoever is elected, cheerfully and knowing the Ark is in good hands. But, they have to pull this off. It’s the only major part of being Councilor of Resources and Relations that they haven’t done yet by themselves.”

He rubbed his face, looking somewhat impressed. “That’s honestly not what I was expecting.”

“I don’t think it ever is, honestly.” I shrugged at the question he glanced towards me. “For Evan, it was coordinating the weapons exhibitions. Charly managed to pre-empt her own by designing more efficient aqueducts and filtration for when we reach Von - you know, the ones that also produce light?”

“Of course she would invent glow-in-the-dark plumbing. Who else?” Something caught up with him. “Evania Josue got away with planning an event? Seriously?”

“Oh, that’s right… you weren’t on Level One…” I murmured. When he only looked more confused, I clarified. “She was Maverick’s co-pilot when we needed people to pilot the Ark, which was not designed to pilot manually, via dead reckoning, using cameras pointed out the few viewports we have, for several weeks after the sensors were sabotaged.”

“She was whose co-pilot?”

“You really never heard this story? You practically live with seven people who were there…”

“Usually I get the bits about ‘Sophia nearly got her brains bashed out’ and ‘that traitorous bitch’, then start tuning out while I try to decide what it would take to get Charly to teach me necromancy… If Evan was the co-pilot, then why is Maverick….”

“Not in line to replace any Councilors? Arthur, we know that would be a disaster for him.”

He nodded reluctantly. “Your younger partner is a nice boy.”

“For fuck’s sake, he’s thirty seven!” I groaned.

“Nice man, whatever,” he waved off. “Which is exactly what I would like for you as a partner. You need nice partners, and blunt siblings. But I see what you mean about him being a Councilor… he’d be miserable.”

“What was yours?” I asked mischievously, dropping my chin onto my hands.

That earned me a flat stare, until he finally surrendered when I didn’t flinch. “The Twentieth/Early Twenty First History curriculum.”

“Seriously?” That had literally been the first thing he had done when Eino tapped him as a possible successor.

“I didn’t budge on points even he admitted he would have, out of fear of offending people.”

“Which is a fear you very much lack,” I pointed out.

“The truth is the truth. Coating it in sugar only makes it taste worse.” He shrugged nonchalantly before suddenly looking dangerously like he was thinking again. “There’s two of them.”

“Yes, Arthur. Hanna and Paravati are, in fact, two distinct and separate women-type-lady-people.”

“Thank you, Fee, I was well aware.” I suppressed a growl at the nickname - he knew I hated it. “I meant, only one can win the election, smartass.”

“Better to be a smartass than a dumbass,” I muttered.

“Sophia, you are forty five. Please grow up just a hair?”

“Tyche doesn’t want to be HR forever, you know.”

That brought his mind to a visibly screeching halt. “Wait, what?”

“What what?” I asked. “She does it because she is phenomenal at it, but it isn’t her passion. She only stuck around as long as she did to make sure I didn’t trip over a chair and brain myself while I was at work. When I’m gone, she’s gone, loser take the spoils.”

He whistled softly before shaking his head. “It’s bizarre to think of you two retiring around the same time I’m just starting the position.”

“I’ll have been a Councilor for a decade when I step down,” I pointed out. I almost included unless I die first, but that never seemed to be as funny as I thought it was.

“But you aren’t that much older than me,” he sighed dramatically. “Anti-aging technology is frustrating.”

“Annnnd this is a natural extension of your career, with a ten year break thereabouts the middle.” My grin was so bright it made him scowl before I finally got a begrudging smile. “Think of it as getting elected head of the school board.”

The groan he let out probably echoed for several levels throughout the ship. I had basically just pointed out that he was becoming that which he most hated.

Or not. He seemed to recover with a gleam in his eye. “Pfft. Dean of Students, at the very least.”

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #humans are weird #found family #siblings #humans will pack bond with anything #aliens #post apocalyse #post post apocalypse #science fiction #original science fiction #haw #hfy

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thisizaraisu · 3 years

Text

In/spectre vs The Detective is Already Dead: Every Masterpiece Has its Cheap Imitation

So I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. While I did only give In/spectre an 8/10 due to its admittedly weak pacing, it was also one of my favorite anime to come out last year. I love the character chemistry and banter, it was enough to make me forgive the pacing a million times over. And The Detective is Already Dead sets itself up similarly to In/spectre with some great character interaction and a main girl that reminded me a LOT of Kotoko (and you can take one look at my profile picture to know how I feel about Kotoko). But if you’ve been reading my posts, you’d have seen that The Detective is Already Dead was the first show I dropped this season. So while I was initially very interested in everything the show had set up, there was a point where it all went wrong, and admittedly I don’t think it was Episode 2. Today I wanna take a deep dive into both series, and explain why one is a masterpiece and one is a disappointment.

Structure

The Detective is Already Dead has the most screwed-up story structure I’ve ever seen in an anime... and I watched God of High School. My biggest problem with the way the show is structured is that the chronology being completely random isn’t my only issue. We gleam two major facts from episodes 1-3: Siesta has passed away, and her heart is within the body of another girl. For whatever ungodly reason, knowing this we go back to a flashback where Siesta is fighting a kaiju with toxic breath that could wipe out the entire nation of Japan. Now tell me, if Siesta were to be killed by this monster, would she have any salvageable body parts left over? Hell no. And therein lies my problem: the way that the story has already gone through its motions leaves NO room for feelings of stakes or tension in these flashback sequences. It’s not just the chronological whiplash that bogs the whole thing down, but the fact that we already know Siesta’s fate makes these “intense” flashback sequences utterly pointless (I’ll get to why “intense” was put in quotations later). I honestly did not mind the idol arc at all, but at the end of said arc, a new character was teased, only for her to not be introduced in the following episodes. There are SO many structural issues that I was baffled, it continually left me with more questions than answers and not in the way a good mystery series does so. More often than not, the question it left me with was “What the fuck were they thinking?”

In/spectre on the other hand is structurally sound. It jumps around occasionally but it covers events that are entirely relevant to the lives of our two lead characters and their relationship. Additionally, while the pacing is admittedly lackluster, it’s not confusing. We see the high-stakes war between Kotoko and Rikka unfold in real-time, with Kotoko’s plan to rid the world of Steel Lady Nanase encoutering numerous logical hurdles. Again, I’ll get into why this works down the line. But for now, I wanna talk a bit more about:

Character Chemistry

The chemistry between Kotoko and Kuro is a real saving grace for the show. I’m gonna be bringing up the term “saving grace” a few more times for In/spectre, and I do realize that the term is typically used for good qualities of bad media, but here’s where I’m coming from on this: pacing is something that I typically put a LOT of stock into for an anime. However, when the other qualities are so enjoyable that I can put weak pacing to the side, I consider those qualities a saving grace. All that being said, every interaction between Kotoko and Kuro brought a genuine smile to my face. The witty banter and innuendo shared between them is not only well-written, but reserved for the right moments. It never breaks the tension that the show has worked so hard to build up, rather it’s present in their initial meeting, their moments shared in the hotel, and after the conflicts they encounter have been resolved. There are occasionally tongue-and-cheek jokes thrown into the preludes to action sequences but they’re very quick laughs as immediately after we’re thrown right back into the action. The timing and writing in In/spectre is just top-notch and they’re a direct result of how naturally Kotoko and Kuro’s conversations flow and how well the two completely different leads compliment each other.

The only character Kimihiko had good chemistry with is fucking dead now. Moving on.

Action

In/spectre is not very heavy on the action, but two scenes in the show’s runtime did make my jaw drop: the conclusion of episode 1, and the scene where Kuro pulls his body across the I-beam impaled into his chest to punch Nanase in the face. Kotoko and Kuro have a bit of a “brains and brawn” dynamic going on. While Kuro is by no means unsmart, Kotoko is definitely more of the master strategist, while Kuro can use his immortality to keep their target at bay. This present is incredibly present in the fight with Steel Lady Nanase. Kuro is constantly knocked down, battered, bruised, impaled, yet he keeps rising back up to give Kotoko enough time to work her magic. It’s a plan that promises nothing but searing pain for Kuro, and throughout it all I was constantly wondering, at what point will Kuro break? This has been happening for numerous episodes, when will he not be able to get back up? The fact that In/spectre made me feel that there were stakes for an IMMORTAL BEING is, in hindsight, kind of amazing.

In direct contrast, The Detective is Already Dead really falls off after the first fight. While looking back on it, it is really dumb that Siesta was able to bring a gun onto an airplane, on first watch I honestly really liked what I was seeing in the fight between her and tentacle boy (I don’t remember his name and I don’t feel like looking it up). And what got me REALLY invested was the way Siesta didn’t actually kill him, rather faking his death and having him imprisoned. I was invested for a key reason: the show’s title isn’t exactly spoiler-free, but it got me wondering, is Siesta ACTUALLY dead? Is she truly gone from this world, or is her “death” in name only like Tentacle Boy’s, and do I actually get to see more of this enjoyable, In/spectre-style character dynamic? Sadly, this was thwarted by episode 2′s reveal of the girl that received Siesta’s heart. Again, a horrifically paced sequence between episodes that kills any momentum the series had built up.

Additionally, it was during the fight between Siesta and Petelguise that I felt the show had genuinely hit rock bottom, because they made a fight between a cute waifu in a mech suit and a kaiju that could wipe out all of Japan in a moment’s notice BORING. I didn’t touch on it much during my initial explanation of why I dropped the show, but I wanna elaborate a bit. First of all, as I said previously, there are no stakes to be found. We KNOW that Siesta can’t die here. Secondly, the movement is just so wooden, there’s no attempt at animating the fight in an exciting way, rather it just feels like they’re going through the motions to convey the words of the light novel without trying to get it to translate to video form. Finally, there’s WAY too much dialogue and it drags down the entire sequence by making the chase scene way longer than it needs to be, and given the show’s propensity to really over-season every scene with dialogue, I imagine this was the same for future action sequences as well. I dropped the show as soon as Siesta jumped onto the clock tower with Petelguise, because it was in that moment I realized: I feel literally nothing right now.

The last point of comparison I want to draw between these two shows is:

Bullshit

Thinking about the very different way these two shows use the art of bullshitting is honestly the reason I wanted to make this post. Kotoko’s solution to the entire Steel Lady Nanase conflict is, after all, the art of bullshitting. What makes it work is the fact that it’s the perfect solution to what the situation calls for. I know this is a bit of an odd comparison, but In/spectre is like a reverse version of Elf starring Will Ferrell. Unlike how at the end of Elf, they wanted to make everyone believe in Santa to restore his power, Kotoko’s ambition is to get the Internet to toss out their belief in Steel Lady Nanase to rid her of her power as a “monster of the imagination.” If people maintain their belief in this monster of Rikka’s imagination, there’s no realistic way to stop her. Here lies the biggest obstacle, however: the power of imagination is so strong that Nanase has become a very real entity, responsible for multiple murders. Kotoko can’t just magically find an incriminating piece of evidence that outs Nanase as superstition, so her only solution is to trick the people of the internet and convince them that she’s a myth. As she does this, her invented inference runs into skepticism and she has to continue to bullshit her way out of it until finally, she’s created an explanation for the recent string of murders with no holes in its argument. It’s an arduous process but one that does have to be drawn out as Kotoko very clearly and intentionally sets up explanations that would draw skepticism before inventing an excuse that refutes any potential counter-arguments. It’s honestly the equivalent to someone writing a 50-page college thesis with no research and successfully defending it.

Siesta, on the other hand, is the most annoying kind of supergenius character. Personally, I love Siesta. I think her character design is great, I think she’s funny and that she shares some really enjoyable dialogue with Kimihiko, so when the show isn’t butchering fight scenes I actually really enjoyed her screen time. So it’s not Siesta herself that bothers me, but it’s the way that the plot is so willing to let her make perfect deductions with the most minimal knowledge given to her. This also reminds me a bit of Sherlock in Moriarty the Patriot, with his ability to make perfect deductions from just a glance at the scene of the crime, but it works well in Holmes’ case because all of the necessary evidence is in that confined space. Siesta on the other hand is just magically able to decipher a villain’s motivation and weaknesses with a two-minute conversation... yeah I don’t buy it.

So that’s about it, I probably could have drawn up more contrasts if I had actually continued watching The Detective is Already Dead, but it became such an abject disappointment that I just ended up going back to In/spectre instead. You know, a mystery show where the writers and animators knew what they were doing.

#anime #anime review #in/spectre #kyokou suiri #tantei wa mou shindeiru #The Detective is Already Dead #Seasonal anime #winter 2020 #summer 2021

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joshslater · 4 years

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Five Step Program

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I stared at the contents of the envelope, a blue jockstrap, and a folded piece of paper. I hadn’t put much hope into this “miracle solution” to becoming a jock without any of the work. Of course there was a catch. “First 20 customers get their first shipment free of charge” was enough for me to fill out the form with my information. It wasn’t anything too revealing. Name, address, height, weight, age. A box where you could write what you hoped to achieve with this revolutionary five step program. That’s what they really were after, I guessed. Having people enter their dreams so that they can tailor their next scam better. I was even surprised I got anything in the mail at all, and now having opened it, it made even more sense.

I could see how sending a jockstrap to someone perhaps fulfills some legal requirement that the recipient could now look like a jock. It could be a way to avoid getting a federal fraud charge. But I hadn’t spent a dime on this, so it didn’t make any sense. The jockstrap looked like any other jockstrap, I guessed. I’d never owned one, nor worn one. The pouch was dark blue and made with two layers of some synthetic mesh material. The big waistband was light blue with the letters JOCK repeated in dark blue around it. There was a faint smell of synthetic material and detergent. I did a mental sigh and opened the folded letter.

Congratulation on becoming one of our first customers on the revolutionizing five step Jock Express program. As a thank you for signing up, this first part is totally free of charge. Should you wish to continue the program, as we are confident you will after having successfully completed the first session, simply use the URL at the bottom of this page to enter your credit card information and we’ll send you the next item as soon as the payment is confirmed. I’m happy to inform you that we can offer a reduced price for the entire program, should you chose to start it within five days. The price is only $100 for the next installment, and progressively higher as you advance in the program. There is no commitment to purchase so you can stop the program at any point. We’re confident you will want to complete all the five steps in the Jock Express program.

Fuck that! What morons sign up to this kind of shit?

Instructions: The Jock Express is the easiest and most user friendly fitness program ever developed. Simply drink a lot of water, put on the items included in each program step, as you normally would, and go to sleep.

I was even more confused. Why would that sway anyone to put out $100 for at best another piece of gym clothing? I put it all in my in-tray on my desk and let it slip from my mind. I had dinner, watched TV, answered some late emails and the usual Tuesday stuff. By bedtime I walked past my home office and had the sudden recollection that I had something waiting in the in-tray. Then I remembered what it was, and almost reluctantly decided to go ahead with wearing the damn thing. I was still convinced it was a scam, but was immensely curious to exactly how it would work. If nothing else I would get to feel what wearing a jockstrap feels like. I drank a glass of water, put on the jockstrap, and went to bed. The jockstrap was as comfortable as anything and I quickly went to sleep.

Apparently I slept through the first alarm, and jolted awake on hearing the more incessant buzz from the phone. I jumped out of bed and it wasn’t until halfway to the bathroom I realized I was naked. I wouldn’t say massive, as in cartoonish in any way, but my dick and balls were noticeably bigger than before. It took a few seconds for my still startled brain to put the pieces together. The jockstrap had disappeared and somehow affected the body. It hadn’t replaced any body parts, I could still recognize my dick, but it was for sure altered. Suddenly $100 felt like way too little money. I didn’t even put any pants on as I typed in the URL from the letter. Jock Express step #2 for $100 and express delivery for another $25. Annoyingly no option to order all four remaining steps as a package. I just wanted to have them all in my house as soon as possible.

By the time I had entered all my details, checked all the boxes, and clicked the final webshop button I was rocking a massive hard-on. The biggest one in my life so far, by far. I didn’t care right then if I would come late or call in sick, I just knew that I had to take my pre-cum leaking enhancement for a test drive, and slowly started to move my hand up and down the shaft. It felt better than ever, and lasted longer than I have ever before. I’m not really sure how long, because I zoned out a bit while wanking, and then exploded with an epic load of cum. I managed to tilt the chair back and catch it all on my body, but then I felt really spent and dozed off, only to be brought back with a text message from my boss. Sick day it is, I decided.

A more apt description would be a lewd day. I just cycled between laptop porn, wanking and showers, and combinations thereof. I loved the difference it made when wearing underwear. Even when flaccid you could tell here was action waiting, not just only wearing underwear, but while wearing jeans too. I took photos so I had progress photos to compare with.

The next day was a strange one. I worked all day in the glow of someone with confidence, as if somehow I had done some achievement. I kind of surprised myself with how much of a difference it made when dealing with the pileup of emails from yesterday. Big dick energy. I could make decisions so much faster than I was used to. I don’t know if I really had more confidence, or just didn’t care as much. I was for sure giddy with anticipation of what was yet to come by overnight delivery. I forced myself to stay until official end of office hours and then bolted and drove straight home.

Thank God there was a DHL box in my mailbox, or I don’t know what I would have done. I opened it on my way in, and it’s contents were similar to the first one. A folded letter and some folded cloth. Without opening the letter I unfolded the cloth, which turned out to be a plain, sleeveless, white cotton T-shirt. Had there been someone to high five, I would have done so. I’m not fat, but there is a bit of flabbiness I would love to get rid of, so I couldn’t wait for this part. I felt anticipation in my stomach and something else in my pants. I hadn’t had a wank since this morning.

Evening couldn’t come soon enough. The letter said basically the same as the last one. A new URL for the $400 Jock Express #3, which I immediately ordered, again with overnight shipping. Not really sure what to kill time with, I figured a jock would watch sport, so I just randomly put some football on. I hadn’t really paid any attention to sports before, so I wasn’t sure about who was who, what the series looked like, or really what happened on the field besides the obvious. I ended up masturbating to the football, which in my opinion made it better. By 9:30 I decided to drink a few glasses of water, strip, put on the sleeveless T-shirt, and go to bed. I tossed and turned in anticipation for quite a while. The T-shirt had a very loose fit, and the big holes for the arms made it even more mobile, though it was anchored by the crew neck. Finally at some point I managed to fall asleep.

I woke up before the alarm. It was dark enough that I knew I hadn’t slept through them all. Instead of getting up or turning on the light, I just slowly moved my hand to my chest under the sheet. My chest was about the same size, but felt firmer, I imagined. But more importantly I was naked and the shirt was gone. I moved my hand down and couldn’t contain my joy when I started to feel the faint square of abs. I jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to have a look in the mirror. The effect was better than I thought from just touch. My torso not only looked fit as a model, with abs and V and all, but younger and with better skin. Perhaps an illusion, but it almost looked like my dick was bigger as well.

Having woken up early, after a wank and a shower, I was one of the first in at the office and quickly got ahead on my tasks for the day. I still had the anticipation I felt yesterday, but today it was more like I knew what to expect. It wasn’t just a one-off or a fluke, this was legit and it was happening. As I started early I decided to flex out early and rush back home. I spent the drive home fantasizing about different types of clothing. I was kind of wishing for those sleeves they use in basket, to amp up my arms, but there might be some scientific reason why they changed the body parts in a specific order. Who was I kidding? This wasn’t science. This was magic.

I ripped open the familiar package as soon as I was inside the front door. This time it was white under armour legging of some sort, ending just below the knees. I was considering strip down fully naked and put on the leggings right then and there, and wear them until it was time to go to bed, but decided against it. Even though the descriptions were vague and didn’t really say you couldn’t do that, I didn’t want to risk fucking up the process. Instead I found some underwear in the same color as the jockstrap and took a pair of scissors to an old white T-shirt to make it look like the one I put on yesterday. Then I put on those, and nothing but, and sat myself in front of the TV, determined to actually try to follow the game this time, whichever game I happened to see.

It might be I imagined it, perhaps because I’ve never really seen myself in a sleeveless T-shirt before, but it looked to me like my arms were a bit more defined than yesterday. I realized that I had just assumed only the parts under the clothes are affected, but that’s just something I made up. It could be that it just primarily acts under the clothes, or perhaps it was just a coincidence and the clothes really could change anything. In the end I let it go. It didn’t matter, I couldn’t prove it either way, and I couldn’t watch a game, have deep thoughts and masturbate all at the same time anyway. I was so into it I almost forgot to order the next package. A steep $1000 for whatever the next item was, but so far it was fucking worth it.

I really liked how I looked in the 3/4 leggings or whatever the fuck they are called. Just imagining how much better I would look the morning after made me go to bed with a big boner, despite being thoroughly wanked. I tried to calm myself by thinking of the last game I watched, and not give Jock Express a thought, and it kind of worked. I know I fell asleep pretty quickly and dreamt of football until the alarm woke me up.

“Fuck yeah!” was the first I could think when I saw myself. The thighs were about as large as before, but the line going down them made it obvious they were muscles and not jiggle matter. It even felt different just standing. I’m almost positive my dick had grown even more. Who the hell wouldn’t dish out $400 or whatever for this shit?

While the day started great it quickly became frustrating with all the corporate bullshit. I knew how to do my job. There were just so many fucking rules in the way of doing it in the best way. Perhaps the anticipation of the second to last package made me be in a bad mood. Whatever. I bolted as soon as I could, cranked up the volume in the car, trying to not think of anything until I got home. I almost punched something when I opened the mailbox and didn’t find an envelope. Instead it was just a note about DHL attempted to deliver while I wasn’t home. I could either call them to deliver tomorrow or drive to a pickup point. Like fuck I would wait another full fucking day.

I was furious when I got back into the car, blasting music as loud as I could, but I quickly calmed down. Perhaps this was a good thing? It might be a box with shoulder pads from football or hockey or lacrosse or whatever the fuck else looks hot. You know what else is hot? Michael at the DHL pickup point. I mean, I’m not homo or anything, I’m just saying he was a good looking dude.

The packet he gave me was a bit disappointing though. No way it could contain anything as large as shoulder pads. I didn’t want to fuck with my mojo, so I kept the same routine as before and didn’t open it until back home. Fucking cleats and socks. Another fucking leg day. And they smelled bad too, like distilled vinegar or some shit. As I entered the URL from the letter on my phone I got two more shocks. The price of the last package was ten thousand fucking dollars! And even worse, the delivery wouldn’t arrive until Monday. Two fucking days away. “This is bullshit” I shouted at nobody and threw the empty cardboard box into the wall to no damage to either.

I was still furious and went straight to the fridge, pulled out a cold can of beer, opened it, and downed half of it. It felt better, but I was still upset on the world in general. I looked at the phone screen again. $10k is a fuckton of money. There wasn’t a rush to buy it right now either, if they didn’t do overnight delivery during weekends. I emptied the can and crushed it against the countertop. It hurt my hand, which just added to my anger for being such a weakling. I pulled the rest of the six-pack out of the fridge and threw it in the living room couch on my way to the bedroom. I needed to get out of these stuffy office clothes and cool down with a cold one, or four.

I ripped off the tie and started to unbutton the shirt on my way into the bedroom, and once there opened the door to my wardrobe. I felt like a girl, not knowing what to wear. I hated everything my eyes fell on, and I hated feeling like that. I bunched the shirt into a ball and threw it into a corner, together with the tie. I climbed out of the pants as quickly as I could and threw them there as well. Then I stopped myself.

Everything I saw I really liked, I realized. The pecs, the abs, the thighs, and the generous bulge in the boxer briefs.I yanked off my socks and more deliberately lowered my boxers to let the dick and balls loose. I knew what I wanted from this junk selection of clothes, and opened a drawer with my athletic clothes and pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants. It was Friday and my dick and balls deserved some freedom, I thought, as I put on the sweats without any underwear. I picked up the sleeveless T-shirt from the floor by the bed and put that on as well. I felt so much better. A few beers, whatever game was on, and some more wanking, and perhaps this could turn into a good evening after all.

After two more beers, cum stains on sweatpants, T-shirt and the couch, and fuck knows how many games I zapped through I couldn’t wait any longer. Whatever bullshit the cleats and sock did, the sooner it was over with, the sooner I could move on with the final package. $10k was still a lot, but if I sold all shares I could buy it, keeping both house and car.

The socks went almost up to the knees, but weren’t any real soccer socks or anything like that. The looked more like something someone might have to the gym, or something a skater would wear. Skater was perhaps right, because they smelled like that vinegary acidic smell of really sweaty skater shoes. The socks were white with a wide black band around it near the top, and were a bit off-white on contact surfaces around the foot, as if they had been used in black shoes by someone. As if I would fucking care. I pulled up both legs of the sweats over the knees and put on both socks, pulling them as high as possible. The cleats were black and a bit banged up, but fit perfectly on my feet. I didn’t even remember having given out my shoe size. I was unsure how tight to tie them, so I went with comfortable without being loose.

It felt weird walking with them, like the shoes were pushing your forward. Not at all like my much flatter leather shoes. Somehow my test walking ended up by the fridge, so I grabbed another six-pack and returned to the couch for some more ESPN or whatever.

I had no idea what sport it was on the screen, but glancing out the window I could see that it wasn’t evening anymore. I must have fallen asleep, I realized, but I felt way better than I ought to, given the pile of crushed beer cans around me. I walked to the toilet to have a piss, and it wasn’t until I lowered the front of my sweatpants to grab my morning semi-stiff snake I realized I was barefoot. I was pissing for probably a good minute, aiming down with one hand. Holy fuck so much I’ve kept in while sleeping. I was pretty sure I had cleats and socks on when I fell asleep. I did a few bounces on the balls of the feet. It felt fucking great, and shook loose the last drops of piss from my dick. I dropped it back into the sweatpants, and broke into a smile from how fucking huge of a tent it made, despite being just a semi. I did a few more jumps, looking at how the flagpole in my front swung up and down. I really didn’t deserve to feel this great after yesterday, but I’d fucking take it. I felt so full of energy I felt I could do anything. I wanted to run just to see how it would feel.

I dashed into my bedroom and emptied the rest of the athletic clothes drawer on the floor. Some T-shirts, a pair of basket shorts, white socks and wiped down indoor and outdoor shoes. All of it was underwhelming, outright disappointing. And why the fuck did I keep the shoes here and not by the door? I grabbed the outdoor shoes and without bothering with socks started to mash my foot into it. It was clearly at least one size too small, perhaps several. Who the fucks know how shoe sizes work. I threw both shoes into the wall above my pile of office clothes. Fucking hell. Why do all days start out great and then go downhill so fast, I wondered.

I grabbed a pair of flip flops, the car keys, and pulled the credit card out of the wallet and walked out to the car. The car stereo startled me when I turned the ignition key, as it blared out some hip hop at max volume. I reached to turn it down, but changed my mind. It felt like my mood, as I was driving to my closest mall almost below speed limit. There wasn’t much traffic out anyway on a Saturday morning. As I turned into the almost empty parking lot in front of the mall I realized the fucking God damn shit mall would open for another 40-something fucking minutes. I wished I could turn up the music louder.

As I looked down on the cum stains on my shirt and tenting sweats I decided why the fuck not, and started to beat off in sync with the music.

40-something fucking minutes later I entered the sporting goods store in the mall. Johnson’s or Dick’s or Willy’s or whatever, I don’t care. I picked up some proper compression clothes, like the leggings I had earlier with a matching top. I got myself some outdoor Nike’s, a few proper tanks, some jocks, boxer shorts and socks, new flip flops, and a snapback cap. On the way to the cashier I decided to pick up a wooden baseball bat and a regulation size football as well. Back in the car I ripped off all the stickers and shit and put on something I could run in. The sneakers, jockstrap and shorts, a tank top, and the snapback. I left the car and just ran.

It was a revelation. The first time I tasted ice cream or coca cola, or the first time I discovered I could do something else with my dick besides peeing and hitting it too hard. I felt like a good damn terminator. Like as long as I kept the pace below sprinting I could run for hours. Trickles of sweat running down my face, my arms, my back, wetting the fabric of my clothes where it could, cooling the skin with the breeze my motion generated where it couldn’t. I have no fucking idea how long I actually run. When I finally ended up back in the car I was steaming and real fucking hungry.

I felt like a shower was in order, but I was too hungry to do that first. I went by Five Guys and had a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a peanut butter milkshake. As I started eating I realized I wasn’t anywhere near tired. It was probably enough running for today, but I wanted to do more. Halfway through the meal I decided I would visit the gym we had a company membership at. I had only been there a few times since the introduction walkthrough. I wasn’t even sure I had the card in my wallet anymore, or if it was in the bowl of stuff in the kitchen.

I made a quick stop at home, unloaded my car, found the card, and set off to the Pacific Wellness Center. The dude in the lobby had a pissy attitude and asked me if I was wearing indoor shoes. I asked him what they looked like, and he let me in. Such a shame, because he was kind of good looking.

Inside the gym the results were mixed. Squats, lunges, planking, and abductor machine all went excellent. It was fun, even. But everything involving arms went miserably. I could only lift a pathetic load, and after a few reps I would be tired. I even embarrassed myself in front of two massive gym buddies. One of them had amazing arms. You could see how strong they were even when he wasn’t lifting, but fuck me what beautiful ‘ceps when loaded. And tanned too. It was lucky I had the jockstrap on, because that body was smoking hot.

I could only stand a few more failures after that and then sped back home, still with hip hop at max, in a mix of emotions. I got naked on the way to the bathroom, and there I spent perhaps an hour in the shower, getting the grime and sweat off me, and wanking twice, thinking of the arms of the hot dude. As I dried myself on a towel I knew I had to buy the last package. Ten fucking thousand fucking dollars. I had to use the laptop to access my bank, and once I had put in the sell order for my stock portfolio I saw the pornhub tabs I hadn’t looked at since Wednesday.

The big-busted bimbos I had wanked my way through the Wednesday suddenly didn’t seem as interesting. I clicked around a bit until I found a muscle stud fucking a Latino girl. How quickly the taste can change, but except for pathetic arms, I’m was now the muscle stud. I quickly entered the URL from the Jock Express #4 box and ordered the last package. The delivery date was still Monday, so come Tuesday the muscle stud would be me. Only one fucking week.

Since I was out of beer I threw on my old shorts and a T-shirt, and had a walk to my nearest convenience store and bought one six-pack for each hand. I was feeling a bit stiff from the training, but it was much better than it ought to be.

As I opened the door back at home the warm smell of gym clothes, sweat, and feet hit me. I did the responsible thing and threw everything in the washing machine, opened a beer, and started to watch whatever was on.

Sunday was just a boring-ass filler day. I woke up at a decent time, had a long run. I passed through the park, but didn’t engage with any of the groups playing football or beach volley there. I could wait two more days to get my arms sorted. I did some cleaning up and domestic shit back home. Then I went to the gym again, but this time I pretended it was leg day, so I didn’t have to embarrass myself. After dinner I had an evening jog as well, and only had a few beers before bedtime.

Same thing on Monday. Woke up pretty early and went for a long run. When I was almost back home I got a text message from my boss, saying we needed to talk about my performance over the last few days. My answer “Suck my balls” probably summed up the conversation much better than any in-person meeting. I found that the best way to find porn with muscle studs in them was to search in the gay section. Just because you like to watch big arms and strong backs doesn’t make you homo. I jacked off to the videos until it was time to eat lunch. By 2 pm I was climbing on the fucking walls in anticipation, and every minute felt like too long. Perhaps it wouldn’t arrive today at all? I heard the mailman at 2:18 and rushed out wearing only shorts and snapback.

The mailbox was stuffed full with a big, soft envelope. I tore it open on my way back inside, kicked the door shut, and emptied the contents on my kitchen table. A big black something fell out, as well as something small that rattled across the table. Ignoring the letters, as usual, I unfolded the cloth. It was a big, black hoodie in sweatshirt material, with the print “STRONG” on the front. Finally arms! I picked up the small plastic box that almost fell off the table and opened it. It contained some sort of advanced mouthguard mad in blue, white, and transparent plastic of different hardness and flex. The kind that football players use.

Not knowing what to do next, I went to the gym and spent a few hours just randomly doing low weight, high rep stuff. I was trying to catch a glimpse of everyone else who worked out to see what their arms and legs looked like. Once I felt it was too obvious I wasn’t doing anything serious I drove home, but instead of going inside I started to walk and walked for hours just looking. It felt good just to be in motion. I didn’t return back until the sun started to set, and it was almost fully dark when I walked through the door.

I decided to just go ahead with the last piece of transformation. I stepped out of my sneakers and pulled off my damp socks. It didn’t smell of strawberries. I pulled off the T-shirt and stepped out of the basket shorts, but kept the compression shorts on. I grabbed the hoodie from the table and put it over my head. Perhaps it was me, but it smelled of musky sweat inside while I put it on. I poured myself a big glass of water and downed it.

I walked with the small plastic box to the bathroom and had a look in the mirror. I didn’t really look that different. The big hoodie hid my newly athletic front. The legs and feet looked strong, but who ever notices that? My big bulge in the compression pants was however a change from the past week that couldn’t easily be hidden. I opened the box and put the mouthguard into my mouth. It fit snugly and didn’t change my appearance much either. Not knowing what to do with the hoodie I put it up over my head and pulled it tighter with the drawstrings so all but my face was gone. Then I turned off all the lights and went to bed.

It was still dark when I woke up. Instantly I knew it had worked, because I couldn’t feel the mouthguard in my mouth, though it felt different. As if the ghost of the mouthguard was still there, prying my mouth open. I felt some sort of pressure on my head, as if I was wearing a hat or a beanie or something. I was about to feel my head when I realized moving my arm felt different. Not wanting to fuck around any longer I went straight to the bathroom again to have a look in the mirror. I stared at my reflection with open mouth. The difference was breathtaking.

First of all I wasn’t wearing any top, so my abs and pecs were on full display, but they were also bigger than before. Everything was bigger. My shoulders were much bigger, my entire upper body looked wider than before, and everything about the arms were huge. My face was still my face, but there were lots of small changes. “Fucking dope” I said with a much deeper voice than what I had before. I smiled a smirk and flexed the arms in different poses. I couldn't wait to show up at the gym doing an arm day. I just needed to have another shower. My dick needed service, and I felt sluggish, as if I hadn't really wakened up yet.

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whattodowithace · 3 years

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Drinking With Cupid Part I (Chan)

Title: Drinking With Cupid Part I

Pairing: Chan x Reader

Genre: Angst; Fluff

Word Count: 5,159 Words (all parts)

Writer: Whattodowithkpop [Lio]

A/N: I think I have seen a movie or tv show with a similar concept to this, but if I have, I don't remember for certain. I was also inspired by the song 'Drinking With Cupid' by VOILÀ. This is for the @acewriters writing event.

*****

Half of the world lives in committed bliss, thriving with their significant others, some with children as they live their life in a happy family unit. The other half were not tied down, either living alone or even still living with mom and dad in their basement for the ease and convince. It's hard to find love, even in a world littered with dating apps and websites, it would seem as if finding a partner would be much easier.

Here at Cupid, we don't agree with the apps and websites philosophy. Running numbers is a much more efficient way of finding love with much more ease and much less heartbreak. Sure, there are some adults who prefer to stay single and plan to be that way for a long time, to those we applaud and root for as they follow their dreams. For the millions who long to find love, however, we have your solution. Cupid was founded by its CEO, who went by the name Cupid, back in 2018, and since then has been working on matchmaking software that outshines even the best dating websites and apps. His software is nearly perfect down to the final .%, ensuring an airtight compatibility that has successfully matched thousands of happy couples since its launch in 2019. The future is bright for Cupid, with more and more matches being made the more accurate the percentages are becoming. All you need to do is go by Cupid Incorporated to get your numbers in our system and from their we will do the rest.

Chan walks along the floor, surrounded by hundreds of guests that had come to celebrate Cupid's two year anniversary. He was the founder of this algorithm, however he remains anonymous by his own will, knowing some people wouldn't be thrilled about the idea of this type of system for matchmaking. Chan had started this project after he had many failed relationships. Some only lasted a few weeks and ended without much attachment, however, there were some relationships that were lengthy and caused deep scaring on his heart when they ended. That's when he thought of this idea, of matchmaking based on numbered compatibility. He wanted to find the one he would match with, the one that would make him happy without having to go through the tragic relationships that were doomed for failure from the start.

Eventually, he became consumed with this project, abandoning dating altogether and harvesting a desire to perfect this algorithm. He didn't look for love anymore and soon, his desire for true love dwindled and was replaced by the success that Cupid started bringing him. When Cupid became big, he was running compatibility numbers all day, hundreds of numbers running matches and placing people together where more than 94% of matches were successful to lifelong companionship.

Chan, now a young adult well on his way to become one of the biggest entrepreneurs in the world, filled his pleasures elsewhere, his money getting him anything he wanted to which he used to fill up his free time. Here he was, at the anniversary party for his company, a hidden alter ego amongst the crowd, no one having the faintest clue as to how powerful he was. He quite enjoyed it, it was how he got most of his biggest investors was undercover work like this, plus without all the press. However, chatting with these rich powerful people in one room was something that became exhausting in a rather quick manner. He would wander off into a quiet space, taking a large allotted time to recuperate from the tiring chats.

On one of his getaways, he escaped to the hallways of the auditorium his company booked for the party. The spacious hallways carried the echos of his footsteps down the entirety of the hallway, alerting anyone, if there, that he was walking down the corridor. That meant he was also able to hear footsteps if there happened to be a soul walking through the same halls and, coincidently, there was. The sharp, quick sounds were easy to deduct that the person was, most likely, a female wearing a thin high heel and walking at a quick pace back to the party area. Chan felt a rush of excitement at the small mystery he had encountered in the hallway. It wasn't big like a robbery or a murder, but for what was going on in the room behind him, this was an exciting change of pace.

Chan, however, was not ready for this mystery to be reveled to him, the figure making his heart stop for a few seconds, before beating in an irregular pattern. His throat went dry, his palms sweaty and his knees weak, his mind blanking as the woman he had hypothesized rounded the corner. However, he didn't hypothesize her to be stunning in every way, an enchantress of his body approaching him faster than he could prepare.

When she saw him her head tilted in confusion, she didn't expect to see someone else in this quiet hallway. As she approached him, Chan felt as time had stopped when she stood in front of him, her smile radiant as it beamed at him.

"I'm looking for the Cupid anniversary party, I got dropped off at the wrong entrance." Her voice was soothing, something Chan could listen to all day without getting bored.

He hadn't realized how long he had been staring, until she asked the question again with a nervous laugh, the awkward tension building the longer he stayed silent.

"Oh!" He exclaims, a bright blush creeping onto his cheeks and ears as he scratches the back of his head. "It's just down this hallway, the party is behind the yellow doors you can't miss them."

She smiles with a small laugh, nodding in understanding. "Thank you."

Chan watches her begin to walk away, towards the direction he had just came. It takes him a second before he comes to his senses, walking to catch up with her until he walks beside her.

"Would it be okay if I accompanied you to the party? I wouldn't want you to walk by yourself, especially since you already got dropped off at the wrong entrance."

She looks over to him, her smile reaching her eyes and making Chan's heart spin.

"That would be great, thank you."

The two walk back to the party, their conversation engaging and never finding a dull moment. Even during the party, the pair stayed close by, engaging in many more conversations as the evening continued. Chan was smitten and he knew it. All the plans he had for years to come flew out the window as he talked to her more, finding her funny and adorable making him fall for her more as the sun set in the sky. It was the end of the night when they, finally, had a moment alone with most of the guests having left he could hear her with more clarity.

"Are you here to invest in Cupid?" Chan asks, his nerves high as it was a personal question especially in this line of business.

"Oh, I'm not an investor." She smiles as she looks out the giant windows the venue had, the stars beginning to emerge from the darkness of the night sky. "I actually have my numbers in Cupid's system. I wasn't exactly invited personally, I only wanted to hear more about Cupid's algorithm."

As the secret host of the party, Chan normally would've been annoyed by this intrusion, however in this case, he was ecstatic over her sneaking in this way. He was also elated to hear her numbers were in the system, even though he had a policy for himself that he couldn't use the numbers for his own benefit, he was excited to hear she didn't hate the algorithm.

He was thrown off guard when she asked him the same question, his nerves skyrocketing as he hadn't prepared a cover story, most investors just wanted to talk about themselves and money so they never asked for his specifics. In his panicked state, he blurted the first thing that came to his mind.

"I'm Cupid's brother." Chan trails off, watching as her face shows a range of emotions.

"Wait, you know Cupid?" She asks in excitement, making Chan feel a bout of anger for his imaginary brother she asked about with such excitement.

"I do." He says, his response short and annoyed.

"That must be interesting. Especially, with how his brain works to where it was able to create an algorithm such as Cupid."

Chan realized how idiotic it was, feeling jealousy over himself because he panicked and told a lie, however he couldn't help it as he watched her talk about another guy the way she was talking about Cupid.

"Yea, he is really smart." Chan mumbles, watching as she turns to face him.

"I'm sure you hear that a lot, so I would rather talk about you." She smiles, her body turned towards his, giving him her full attention.

Chan smiles, feeling butterflies in his stomach as she looks at him waiting for him to tell his story. Chan felt those butterflies drop, however, when he realized he was Cupid and to tell her about himself would mean he'd have to talk about his imaginary brother.

"It's getting really late." Chan notes as he sees the sun sinking below the horizon. "What if I took you to dinner sometime and we can continue our conversation."

The woman smiles, her bottom lip hiding behind her teeth to try to surppress her smile. "I would really like that, yeah."

The two exchanged numbers before exchanging goodbyes, each leaving their own way after exiting the venue. Chan felt a surge in his heart, a feeling he never felt before in any relationship he has ever been in. It felt like there was a spark between the two of them, sending jolts of excitement through his body. He went home, his first call to one of his good friends, Donghun, as he told him about the girl that had caught his attention. Donghun expressed excitement for his friend, however, felt an uneasiness about the situation, warning Chan to proceed with caution in this relationship. In his state, Chan missed the warning, telling Donghun he needed to go think up a cover story for him to tell her when they went to dinner, making Donghun feel even more uneasy as they said their goodbye's.

On the other side of the city, she arrived home, calling one of her good friends as well to tell him about the man she met. However, her conversation had a little different feeling than Chan's. Her friend, Byeongkwan, was her confidant in her elaborate plan to take down Cupid and his algorithm. Her numbers were in the Cupid database, yes, however she had already been matched. She was matched with a man who's numbered compatibility was high with hers, they dated for three years, hundreds of memories made together and loved poured into each other. It was two months before their wedding, both having gone to their respected parties and planning on sleeping apart that night as they were expecting to be too far gone to both make it home. That night she found him with another woman, in their shared bed. She was heartbroken, having poured two years of her love and life into this man all based on numbers calculated on a computer made her bitter at the world. Thus began her plan for revenge. She didn't have much of a plan, only knowing she wanted to end Cupid for good, not wanting anyone else to continue dating someone because their numbers were compatible, that wasn't how you found love.

Byeongkwan was her friend that helped her through her breakup, one that took a long time to recoup from. He didn't agree 100% with her plan, however, it was what got her off his couch and back to her life, so he didn't want to send her back into her lethargic way just because he disagreed with her motives. So he listened to her that night, her telling him about the man she met that was related to Cupid and how she planned to get some information about him through Chan. However, something had Byeongkwan smirking on the other side of the phone. She talked about 'using' this Chan character, however she had a lot of sweet things to say about him and expressed countless times how much she enjoyed his company. Before they ended their call Byeongkwan asked her if she would go on the date, to which she replied with an immediate 'yes'. Byeongkwan, relieved, bid her a goodnight and congratulated her on finding someone who could help advance her in her tale for revenge.

Byeongkwan was surprised to receive a call the next night, his clock showing almost midnight when her caller I.D flashed across the screen. He was even more surprised to hear they had already been on their date and to keep adding to the surprises, she didn't mention Cupid once. The only thing she talked about was Chan and his goofy personality that she found adorably alluring. Byeongkwan couldn't help but feel relief hearing her talk about a man this way again, a man that sounded good for her and one who wouldn't end up breaking her heart. Byeongkwan knew you couldn't base a character purely on second hand accounts from one date, however everyone starts somewhere and this Chan fellow was starting out right in Byeongkwan's book.

Yet again, on the other side of the city, Chan had called Donghun to tell him about the date. Donghun was elated Chan had found someone he really liked, someone that seemed to compliment him well, however one thing still plagued Donghun's mind that he couldn't let go of.

"She doesn't know you're Cupid." Donghun's solemn voice travels into Chan's ear and makes the boy's cheery smile drop.

"I'll tell her eventually." Chan promises his friend, his tone quiet from how it usually was.

"I don't want to see you put it off so long that a small, white lie becomes a regret."

"I know, I know. I promise I'll tell her soon."

~ Next Part

A.C.E MASTERLIST

#acewriters #recoromanwrites #a.c.e #a.c.e chan #a.c.e x reader #a.c.e chan x reader #a.c.e fanfic #a.c.e imagine #ace #ace chan #ace x reader #ace chan x reader #ace imagine #ace fanfiction #whattodowithkpop writings

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

Text

The CEO’s Little Kitten ~ Jumin Han x Reader

(( I’ve been feeling a bit off for a while now, and MysMes has always been a way to get comfort for +4 years, and replaying’s Zen’s route, along with the fact that my bestie’s birthday is approaching, made me want to come up with some nice for Jumin, where the Reader is a Veterinarian. Yeah, I’m definitely not projecting, I promise, lolol. ))

---

Everyone knew that Jumin loved Elizabeth the 3rd the most in this life, for a lot of reasons, so much that he often called her the partner of his life. On the other hand, the fact that he was never around women was the reason for a lot of false rumours that the other members of the RFA would often abuse and use to wind him up, coming to get a rise out of the otherwise stoic and composed man, but nothing seemed to bother him.

That is, until his father brought another woman with him and tried to convince him to marry this woman’s protejee, and if that wasn’t enough, his cat was behaving oddly, and the Vet was in vacation, so he was a bit frantic, to say the least.

“Mr. Han, if I may, my son has a friend who works at a well known and renowned modern Veterinary clinics. I could give him a call and see if this person is available to come by for a check up on Elizabeth the 3rd.” the chef spoke, making Jumin raise his eyebrow in intrigue. “Very well, let me know when he will come by.” he nodded, going to his room to watch over his cat more.

Barely 2 hours passed, and there was a knock on his bedroom door, and opening the door, the chef was in front of him with a small, fatherly smile.

“Mr. Han, the doctor has arrived.” the chef declared, standing in front of the tall, brunet man. “Tell him to come in.” Jumin spoke dismissively, going back inside the room. “Hello~! Where’s the beautiful little princess~?” a cheerful and sweet, soft voice called out, and a beautiful woman stepped in, dressed in a purple medical scrub, and the blouse had kitten pattern. “I wasn’t aware that a woman was the Veterinarian. My name is Jumin Han, and this is Elizabeth the 3rd.” Jumin extended his hand to her to shake, albeit a bit reticent, as he usually is around women. “It’s great meeting you, Mr. Han. I am Doctor Y/N L/N, you may call me whatever you want. Daniel’s dad mentioned something about this little sweetheart, but I have to know from you directly the reason why you wanted a check up.” she spoke with so much ease, as she went to kneel in front of the bed, next to the cat. “I left her with my assistant for the day, but she hasn’t been eating since I brought her back home. That’s unusual behaviour for her.” Jumin looked at the woman with curiosity as he saw Elizabeth slowly put her her forehead to the doctor’s, and for him, it looked like a picture painted by someone as great as the genius renaissance man, Leonardo da Vinci. “I understand. First of all, I’d like to ask how meticulous are you in taking care of her. Like...Do you give her strictly measured meals at specific times of the day, and only certain brands of food? Or you prefer to let things be estimate or by the eye?” she asked, as the cat jumped on her lap, as she began petting her. “Everything has been measured and chosen by widely renowned nutritionists.” he explained, watching his cat behave more affectionate with this stranger than with most people she’s ever been in contact with. “That makes sense. And when you let her with your assistant, are they are thorough and careful as you are, or do they estimate?” she asked again, helping the cat climb up her torso, as she rested around her neck, like a scarf, and started purring loudly. “I can only guess she wouldn’t be as exact as I am.” he crossed his arms, looking at the content and happy look on his cat’s face, as the woman was scratching her behind the ears. “Have you considered the potential idea that Elizabeth ate too much? For example, if you give her 1 and a half can of food, but your assistant fed her both full cans, not wanting to waste everything, then Elizabeth is way too full to eat again. She needs to digest everything and maybe a bit more exercising.” the woman explained, touching her nose to the cat’s, giggling at how cute she was being. “Are you sure that’s all there is?” Jumin asked again, just to be certain. “Based on the anamnesis and the checking up I did on her, everything is perfect. You’re taking take of her better than 99% of the population of pet owners. Her fur is impeccable, her eyes are shiny and follow me perfectly, her reflexes are great...Maybe we should trip her claws a bit, but that’s no big deal. Other than that...She has the cutest toe beans I’ve seen in a long while.” her voice became a bit more pitched, as she gushed over his cat. “Very well, then thank you for your help. How much do I owe you for your consultation and diagnosis?” he asked in a professional voice. “Owe me? You don’t owe me anything. It’s not like I really did anything. Besides, it’s always a pleasure being able to spend time with such a beautiful princess.” Y/N smiled at the man with a grin that resembled that of his own cat. “That’s rather gracious of you. Let me at least pay for a taxi to whatever destination you’re heading to.” Jumin pressed on, feeling weird seeing someone not taking the money he offered. “Aww, thank you, Mr. Han, but that won’t be necessary. I like to walk around the city quite a lot, it’s relaxing after a long day at the clinic.” she carefully picked up Elizabeth from her shoulders, kissed her head, then gave her to Jumin. “Would it be okay to ask for your business phone number, in case Elizabeth the 3rd needs your assistance again?” he asked, speaking purely business...Or so he wanted to make himself believe. “Oh, sure! I hope I see this gorgeous baby again! I don’t exactly have a separate business phone, but here, this is where you can contact me. I always have my phone with me, so you’ll reach me pretty fast if anything happens.” she took out her phone and gave him her number, leaning in to give the kitten one last kiss on the nose.

The man, for the rest of the day, spent his time playing and cuddling with Elizabeth, pondering over the incredibly strange interaction he had today with this woman.

She didn’t seem anything like any woman he had the misfortune to encounter, all of them gold diggers, either wanting him for his money directly, or to have something to tie them with his company, or with his father...Hell, some were in it for his money AND looks, if that wasn’t bad enough.

Jumin is aware that he was born with great looks, and he has the brains to make that work in his and his company’s favour, getting successful deal after deal, and then ghosting them.

But this woman...This so called Y/N...She was something else.

She didn’t smile brightly and talked sweetly to him out of wanting something, she did all that just because she saw Elizabeth.

She didn’t give him her number because she wanted to pester him with business messages, but because she wanted to see Elizabeth again.

She couldn’t care less about Jumin, she just wanted to do her job...No, rather, her passion.

Jumin could see the love and passion she had from the way her eyes sparkles, and the way her voice became an infinite times gentler and sweeter whenever she’d talk to or about Elizabeth.

This woman was definitely something else, especially because she completely conquered Jumin’s thoughts.

And now he wondered...

He seemed like a generous woman who would like to help others...So if he could get Assistant Kang to join RFA, why shouldn’t he try to get her in the organisation too?

And she quickly agreed as soon as she heard about charities and parties, and suggested giving money for the local animal shelters and the wildlife associations and so on.

As days and weeks passed, a party was successfully held, and Jumin had the pleasure to see how perfectly well Y/N blended in with the other members, and they all loved her, despite being rather timid at the beginning.

After the party, they gathered to a pub, had some drinks and something light to eat, while Y/N, Zen and Seven would sing Karaoke, Jumin would watch them amused, and the two women would take care of a cutely drunk Yoosung.

It was incredibly wholesome and they decided they must definitely do that again some time soon.

Months passed, and Jumin called the woman more often to hang out with Elizabeth and himself, under the pretext of wanting her to check up on the cat, but of course, they’d often hang out and eat together more often than not, with him occasionally walking her home, saying that he didn’t have time to do his 30 minutes of physical exercise.

But things started taking a turn for the worse unexpectedly soon, when, while on a play date with the cat, Y/N received a call from her boss, telling her that she was fired.

“Wait, what?! Wh-Why am I fired? Have I done something wrong?” she walked away from Jumin, speaking in a softer voice, not wanting to bother him. “Not necessarily wrong, but you don’t fit in to our ideology. You accept treating animals for less than the normal sum, and you think everything is a charity. Y/N, I’m sorry, this is a business in the end, and we can’t have charity work for every homeless stray, or any owner who can’t pay for their pet’s treatment. You have a good heart, but we can’t continue like this any further. I’m sorry, you are a fantastic doctor. Good luck in the future.” her boss explained, making the girl nod, putting her arm around herself. “...I understand. I’m sorry for disappointing you. I wish you all the best in the future as well.” she spoke in a voice barely audible, sighing as she hung up and raking her hand through her hair. “Great. That’s exactly what I needed.” she muttered, shaking her head and going back to Jumin as if nothing was wrong.

“Did something happen?” the man asked, realising rather easily that something wasn’t well. “Oh, yeah, all’s cool, don’t worry! More importantly, look how Elizabeth is cuddled up with her toy!” she tried to change the subject, but he wasn’t having any of it. “Was it a call from work?” he was annoyingly perceptive, the girl thought, as she chuckled awkwardly. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” the corner of her mouth twitched upwards for a split second. “So I hit the nail spot on.” he nodded, not sketching any emotion on his face. “They fired me. Said I didn’t treat my job like a business, but like a charity passion. I’ve been doing this for so long, with the only mindset of saving animals that I kept forgetting that...I can’t pay for everyone’s treatments if they can’t afford it, and I can’t take care of all the strays in the world either. I guess I forgot myself and overstepped the line between sensibility and my heart...It’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it?” she laughed weakly, looking down with an embarrassed expression. “I wouldn’t call that pathetic. In the worst case, maybe a bit naive. You have an admirable heart and your intentions are good, it’s obvious that you’re doing your job with love and passion. You remind me of Zen, but you’re less arrogant and annoyingly prideful.” Jumin spoke his opinion, making the girl smile tenderly. “Thank you...You’re really nice, Jumin. Even though you’re a successful businessman, you make an effort to understand someone so different. My dream has always been to become a great doctor and work hard to get enough money to build my own clinic, get funds for high tech equipment and also try to help the animal shelter and take care of all the strays. It’s...A rather unrealistic and childish dream, don’t you think?” she chuckled, shifting her gaze towards the playing cat. “It is incredibly naive and unrealistic, if you don’t have the proper base for a business and know how to negotiate to earn funds and equipment. I can help with that.” Jumin ended his proposition, making the girl frown at him. “I refuse that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that you’d be willing to waste your money on someone like me...But...It’s as I said. Wasted money on someone who has no idea what to do with it. And besides...I wouldn’t want you to think that I want your money or something. I want us to be friends. I care a lot about our friendship.” she smiled tenderly at him, which only made the man sigh. “At least you’re not refusing me out of stupid pride. If you are ever in need of a job, Elizabeth’s private doctor position is always open for you.” Jumin nodded at her. “Thank you, Jumin. I’ll keep that in mind. I won’t forget your kindness...But I don’t want to end up like Jaehee, where you have to text her, since you can’t stand her voice anymore. I wouldn’t want to annoy you with just my presence.” she scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “...I’m sure that wouldn’t happen. Anyhow, I know a few great clinics that are willing to employ someone with your energy and knowledge. The least I can do is call them up and recommend you.” the man suggested, which seemed to brighter the expression on her face. “I would greatly appreciate that. Thank you from all my heart for caring about me, Jumin. I mean it, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” she grinned gratefully at him, and for the first time in his life, he felt a heart arrhythmia.

And that’s exactly what he did, and for a while, the girl was more than enthusiastic with everything, but sooner rather than later, the boss realised she was an amazing employee and started abusing her work ours, calling for her more than one shift per day, not allowing her enough time to rest between shifts, not enough time to eat properly or go out with the members of the organisation whenever they managed to match a evening.

Jaehee would call to check up on her, and oftentimes, she’d wake her up in the middle of the afternoon, which is when she was able to get a wink of sleep.

Zen would ask her to post selfies, and it was obvious she was starting to get paler, and she had dark circles around her eyes from the sleep deprivation.

Yoosung asked her if she’s been eating properly, as he thought she was starting to lose weight in an unhealthily way.

Seven asked if she was doing anything else other than overworking herself, as even himself and Jaehee, despite everything, still found time to do some things for themselves too.

And Jumin...

Jumin was the most worried out of them all.

He knew how determined she was to save the little souls she was so fond of, and quickly realised how her kindness could easily be taken advantage of.

He was annoyed with how gentle and soft she was, but in the same way, that’s what intrigued him so much about her.

It only made him want to protect her, especially since he was lowkey blaming himself for recommending her that specific clinic.

So, one day, he found the perfect opportunity to call her, when Elizabeth, once again, stopped eating and was behaving rather lethargically and was coughing, and of course, as soon as she heard about the cat being in distress, she rushed to Jumin’s place without a second thought or suspicion.

As soon as she entered in his room, he had to gather all the self-control he had not to jump on her and get her in bed, to force her to sleep properly, while he gets her a proper, nutritious meal.

She wasn’t smiling, she wasn’t glowing, she wasn’t vibing, she wasn’t cheering, she wasn’t cuddling Elizabeth, she wasn’t...

She wasn’t okay.

And for some reason, this bothered Jumin a great time, but he wasn’t sure how to address this without offending her or making her uncomfortable.

His interactions with Zen and Jaehee made him understand human behaviour a bit more in-depth than he would otherwise, just from books, so he settled for examining first.

“Okay, so what’s wrong with the little princess?” her voice was weak and soft, as she kneeled down slowly, petting the cat. “She has been rather lazy today, didn’t want to play, and has been coughing frequently.” Jumin’s explanation was simple, but effective. “Fur ball. She has to vomit a fur ball, but can’t. Could you please bring me a tray or something? I wouldn’t want this beautiful white carpet to get dirty with stomach fluids and vomit.” she stretched herself to get her bag, taking out a sort of laxative. “Use this.” Jumin brought the first useless clipboard he found around, putting it on the ground next to her. “Thank you. There, there, darling, it will be alright, don’t worry. I know it’s uncomfortable, but you’ll get better in a second.” after giving her the laxative, she started massaging her belly, helping the cat vomit the fur ball easier. “Great job, sweety, you’re all good to go.” Y/N gave the cat the ghost of a smile, as she got up, albeit, as lethargic as the cat used to be. “Thank you for your time and for taking care of Elizabeth, Y/N. Why don’t you stay over for lunch?” Jumin asked, as he raised the clipboard and put it away, on a desk, not to forget to throw it away. “I’d love to, but maybe next time. I have a triple shift today and it starts in 2 hours. I really appreciate you thinking of me, but...Work.” she sighed, looking away, before giving with a forced smile. “Are you sick, Y/N? You don’t look very healthy to me. Have you gone to do regular check ups?” he asked, trying to think of a proper excuse to stop her from leaving. “Oh, uhm...I didn’t really have the time. Work has been taking most of my time. But I’ll go as soon as the opportunity arises, I promise!” she tried to skip the conversation. “Well, then, I’ll be off! It was great seeing you, Jumin. Elizabeth too, of course! Take care of yourselves!” she waved at them, rushing to leave the room, making sure she closes the door behind her.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to take too many steps, as a vertigo state started taking over her, and she had to stop and lean on the corridor’s wall, only for her vision to get blurry, covered with a myriad of black dots, and then disappearing completely.

She fainted, falling to the ground with a soft thud, the sound being amortised by the fluffy carpet, but it was enough for Jumin to go check up on and sigh at the sight.

He knew something like that was going to happen, yet he was just grateful it happened while in his home, not on the street or something.

Jaehee would sometimes experience vertigo states and faintness while at work, due to overwork and overexhaustion, but this was taken to the extreme.

That woman had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.

He picked her up with ease, placing her gingerly on his bed, tucking her in, as he took of his blazer, rolling up his shirt sleeves and watching over her.

Usually, fainting would last barely seconds or minutes, but this wasn’t something ordinary. He heard of numerous cases of people sleeping 12, 14, even 16 or more hours, to compensate from the long period of stress and deprivation, so all he could do was wait until she would awaken herself, then give her a light, yet nutritious meal, make sure she hydrates herself...

And never let her do something as stupid as that.

He was going to make sure she doesn’t neglect herself again.

After all, you can’t fulfill your dreams if you are ill or dead, correct?

Jumin took her phone, putting it on silent and disabling all alarms, to make sure she sleeps unbothered, while he’d complete his work in silence and do everything he would do in a day, but as silent as possible.

It melted his heart when he noticed Elizabeth cuddling in the crook of Y/N’s neck, and at that moment, he wished he would take both of them in his arms and just stay there and rest for a while, in complete peace, having no more worries.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he was awoken by a soft cry, which startled him, only to see the girl on the edge of the bed, her head hung, her hands gripping at her unkept yet otherwise beautiful hair.

Frowning in confusion, he got up to sit next to her, putting his arm around her and pulling her to his chest, playing with her hair, as if he was playing with Elizabeth’s fur.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time, Jumin. I really am. I bothered you too much already...” she managed to squeak between her sobs. “Nonsense. Is that what was giving you distress?” he asked, in surprise. “That, and...I...Got fired. Again. I told the boss that I fainted and couldn’t come, but she didn’t believe me, so...That’s it. No more job again...And another slap in the face that I’m just a stupid girl who dreams too big, but has no idea how to do anything. I’m just a weak failure who can’t do anything right. You shouldn’t even stay around someone as stupid as me. I’m sorry...” her small form was trembling, and the man could swear the words were hurting him more than were hurting her. “Stop speaking like that. Instead of insulting yourself, solve things. If you can’t solve things by yourself, then ask for help. Everybody needs help sometimes. Nobody was born knowledgeable, and neither was I. My father helped a lot, and more, all the studies that have been taught to me. Like you don’t know know anything about management, I don’t know anything about medicine. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak, and nor does it make you a bother for anyone.” Jumin explained, as the girl hugged him tighter. “But...But...You’re so busy...I don’t want to give you more trouble than needed. I don’t want you to end up like me. My dreams are silly and unrealistic...I couldn’t possibly ask you to support something so stupid and childish as that.” she spoke in a meek, mouse-like voice. “You have no idea how many cat projects I’ve done so far and how much money I lost, because I wanted to glorify my love for Elizabeth the 3rd. I may be 27 years old and I may be the one who’s going to continue my father’s work after he retires, but that doesn’t mean I can’t indulge in my own passions. That’s how it is with you as well. So, Y/N, look at me. Look at me and ask me for help.” Jumin put his hands on her cheeks, raising her head so he could look into her tearful eyes that held a myriad of emotions and doubts. “Can I really be selfish and ask for your help, Jumin?” she managed to ask after having a small internal battle with herself inside her mind. “I wouldn’t offer my help if I wasn’t willing to do it properly.” he leaned in to kiss her forehead, making the girl take a sharp inhale, putting her hands over his, and smiling softly. “Thank you so much, Jumin. I owe you everything.” she whispered, gratefully. “You owe me taking care of yourself. That’s all. Accept the position of Elizabeth the 3rd’s personal Vet, and let me help you out with your dream. It’s not as unrealistic as you think it is, if only you have someone who knows what to do.” he offered, and she could only nod, and this time, her usual bright smile was back on her face, even despite the tears that were still streaming down her face. “Okay, Jumin. I trust you. I will take care of myself...So please help me out.” she said in such a sweet voice, that Jumin, for the first time in his life, had the urge to just grab her face and kiss her, with no regrets. “The deal is settled, then. Tomorrow I have a meeting with a wealthy company from abroad, and we will be staying at a resort by the beach. You’re coming as well, I won’t accept any complaints. I will call Assistant Kang to tell her that I will be leaving Elizabeth the 3rd with her for a few days. If you have appropriate outfits for going at the beach, then we will go pick them up from your place when I go leave Elizabeth with Assistant Kang. If not, we must go buy some.” Jumin got up, explaining everything as he called Jaehee, informing her of everything she must know.

She felt a bit uncomfortable knowing that Jaehee had more work on her hands because of her, but she had to learn to accept that she needed help, and Jumin was willing to offer it, because he was a good friend and he cared about her and her well-being, like nobody ever did.

It was weird being so pampered all the time, not feeling like she deserved it, but even so, her mind was constantly on the man she was living with, and even more, tomorrow was a big day.

She tried out a few swim suits, sundresses, hates, sunglasses and slippers, all the perfect clothes for going at the beach at a private resort and enjoying the cool ocean and the hot sun.

Y/N spent most of the flight sleeping on Jumin’s shoulder while listening to music on her phone, and he fell asleep with his head leaning on hers, as they arrived early morning, and went to have a great breakfast.

As the meeting started at noon sharp, Y/N spent the whole afternoon walking around the shore, with her feet in the water, listening to the waves breaking and the tranquil atmosphere, along with the ocean breeze and the sun rays were making her feel revitalised like never before.

She felt alive, after so long.

Hours passed without her even realising, and Jumin appeared in front of her bringing two cocktails on the beach lounge chairs, and she rushed to him.

“How was it? Everything alright?” she asked, taking a sip of the ice-cold strawberry drink. “Of course it did. But that isn’t the most important thing now. I see you’re rather happy. You’re not as pale as you used to be just two days ago either. I’m glad.” he said, causing another wide grin to spread on her face. “Well, it’s thanks to you, after all. You gave me the opportunity and helped revive me. I haven’t been out in the sun for a long while...And now...Well, I finally remember what it’s like to relax.” her smile was contagious, as Jumin started smiling a bit as well, until their phones started beeping and they saw the other members were chatting about the girl.

Yoosung: Is she okay?! I’ve been trying to text her all yesterday, but there was no sign :( Zen: Yeah, me too. This place has been kinda quiet without her. 707: I just tracked her location and... 707: She’s at an exotic resort?! lol?! Zen: ?!?!?! Yoosung: HUH?! Jaehee Kang: Let me explain. Zen: Jaehee, you know what happened with Y/N? Jaehee Kang: Not everything, but just some bits that I picked up from Mr. Han. Zen: What does Trust Fund Kid have to do with Y/N’s disappearance?! 707: LOLOLOL Y/N AND JUMIN ARE IN THE SAME PLACE, RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER!!! Yoosung: *Gasp sticker* Zen: SAY WHAT NOW?! Jaehee Kang: Mr. Han took Y/N with him on his business trip, saying that she needs a break from work. You all know how bad she was doing. Yesterday especially, she fainted from overwork and exhaustion, got fired, and Mr. Han offered her a job and said he’d make sure she’s okay. Jaehee Kang: That’s the brief summary of what I pieced together. Yoosung: Y/N!!! If you see these messages, please tell us you’re feeling better!! I’m very happy that Jumin was so nice to help you out! Zen: ...That’s shocking. To think that Silver Spoon would do something like that for someone. That’s amazing. 707: Jumin, won’t you take me on a beach business trip too?! I feel my skin drying from the lack of sun too!! Zen: Jeez, don’t whine like that, do something about it. 707: lololol. Anyway, it’s not that shocking that Jumin did something like that for Y/N. I mean, he offered Zen some deals too. Didn’t he tell Yoosung that he’d hire him, if he gets good grades too? Jaehee Kang: Oh dear... Jumin Han: All you know to do is to gossip all day long. Don’t you have anything better to do? Jumin Han: Also, Y/N is just fine. And yes, she’s next to me. Y/N: Yep! I’m doing infinitely better than before. Thank you so much for worrying about me, I promise I will take care of myself from now on!! Y/N: *sent a selfie*

Y/N then got next to Jumin, taking off her sunglasses and gluing her cheek to his, grinning, one arm around his torso, to help herself stand on her tippy toes and reach his level, while the other was used to take a selfie.

Zen: Ohh, your dark circles are starting to disappear! And your skin isn’t as deathly pale! Y/N: Yeahh, I spent the whole day outside in the sun. It is incredibly refreshing. Yoosung: I hope you’re having fun at the beach! Did you get to swim yet? Y/N: No, not yet, but tomorrow it’s going to be even hotter than today, so I’ll definitely enjoy the water then! Jaehee Kang: Y/N...You look happy. I’m glad to see you smiling again. And you made Mr. Han smile too...That’s quite the feat. Y/N: ??? What do you mean? Jumin has a beautiful smile! Zen: Not more beautiful than mine, surely! Zen: *sent a selfie* Jaehee Kang: I have been cleansed... 707: lololol here we go again. Y/N: You have a beautiful smile, Zen. But Jumin’s smiles are pure and rare, like the first snowdrop of Spring. Jumin: *smile sticker* Jumin: You heard her. Zen: *angry sticker* Zen: Did you steal her phone and write that yourself or what?! Jumin: No. Jumin: *sent a picture* Jumin: She’s by the shore, I’m still on the lounge chair.

Jumin took a picture of the girl who was staying with her feet in the water ankle-deep, looking into the horizon as the sun was setting and the sky was painted with all the colours of the twilight by angels. He could only look at how gorgeous she looked as she had her hands on her hat, to make sure the breeze won’t fly it away, and the way her sundress was gently swaying in the wind.

Yoosung: Ohhh, so pretty! I’d like to go on holiday to a place like that too, one day! Y/N: OMG Jumin!! Y/N: *embarrassed sticker*

Before she realised, Jumin was behind her, startling her unwillingly, as he prowled silently, like a feline.

“D-Don’t startle me like that!” she chuckled weakly, putting her hand on her chest where her heart would be. “That was not my intention. I just wanted to see you up up close again. The picture came up beautiful.” he said, taking off her sunglasses and hanging them from his Tshirt neck, loving to see all the emotions that her eyes betray so innocently. “I-I don’t know how to respond to that.” the girl blushed softly, looking away, trying to hide her face with the long ends of the hat. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad that I can see you smile again...For me. You make my day brighter than this sun does. And I’m happy that you’re finally willing to rely on me to help you with your dream.” he smiled softly, putting a hand on her face, lifting her face up. “If I can make you happy, then I’m happy as well. Jumin, I...I love you. I know I said I didn’t want thing to be weird between us, but...I had to tell you. You deserve to know my feelings for you. They have been there for a while...” she closed her eyes, blushing even harder, only to make the man smile at her. “Good. Now that I know my feelings for you are reciprocated, I don’t have to stop myself from doing this.” Jumin hummed slightly, leaning down to capture the girl’s soft lips with his, giving her a sweet, gentle kiss, only for her to put her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

But then, the phones started beeping like crazy, startling and confusing the girl, until she looked at the chat and gasped, hiding her face with her hat.

“WHEN-...?! WHY?! H O W?!” she chirped in embarrassment, seeing a picture of them kissing in the group chat, while everyone was commenting on it. “If Zen wants to show off all the time, then why shouldn’t I as well?” he smirked softly, kissing her forehead to calm her down. “Y-You...Just...I don’t know how to reply to that either. You’re really something else.” she sighed dramatically, before chuckling and hugging him. “When you smile like that, you remind me of a kitten. And now you’re cuddling me like one. How cute.” he mused, putting his arms around her. “I love you.”

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pines-troz · 3 years

Text

Weekend With The Warners Chapter Six - Animaniacs & Pinky and The Brain

Summary: When the CEO assigns Pinky and The Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids.

Word Count: 10,710

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/71433888

Pinky honored Brain’s request by resuming the planned family activities to occupy Yakko and Wakko. The mouse rode upon Wakko’s red cap as they neared the movie theater. His light blue eyes lit up the moment he saw the movie titles on the marquee along with the various movie posters displayed across the side of the building.

Everyone loved going to the movies! What could be a better way to spend an afternoon than to sit in a dark room with other strangers, munching on expensive snacks, and getting emotionally invested in a movie for two hours? He was especially looking forward to watching a movie about the Furbies! Pinky hoped that this family friendly-animated movie featuring the controversial 90s toys would follow the same beats as other recent animated movies from the past decade: A buddy road-trip journey with a surprise villain twist in the third act (which always shocked him every time!), and all the characters throwing a big dance party at the end to the tune of a contemporary pop song. Pinky would always get up on his feet and dance with the characters on the screen. While Brain would always shield his face at the sight of his enthusiasm, he had a strong feeling that Yakko and Wakko would be more than happy to dance with him before the credits rolled.

Oh, he and the siblings were going to have such a fun-fun silly-willy time!

Wakko carried Pinky on top of their red hat, zooming around the front of the theater like an airplane. With their tongue lolled out, he blew a raspberry to imitate the sound of a plane soaring through the air. He was eager to go to the movies with Yakko and Dad. Even though it would have been better if Dot and Dadoo accompanied them, Wakko learned from their wisened experiences as a middle child that he couldn’t get what he always wanted and had to accept compromise. But he was willing to make the most out of the afternoon for Dot’s sake. Looking on the bright side of things, the middle child was eager to lounge in the comfy leather reclinable chair while chowing down on the various snacks. Buttered popcorn, cheesy nachos, hot dogs, candies, and a large cup of Abyss Boy soda! But he’ll remember not to consume the entire soda all at once. The last thing he wanted was to have another potty emergency on their hands. Regardless, Wakko couldn’t wait to satisfy their appetite for movie theater food!

Yakko cautiously trailed behind Wakko and Pinky, masking his worry with a small smile. The normally laid-back smart aleck was glum over Dot’s health. Of course, part of being a responsible older brother was being the main caregiver for his siblings’ needs. And Yakko took pride in tending to Wakko and Dots’ needs, especially if they felt under the weather. The eldest Warner couldn’t shake off the bewildering fact that Dot was being cared for by a good friend, who successfully proved himself to be a competent caretaker, while he and Wakko walked about as if nothing happened. If his sister wasn’t so insistent on going to the movies for her sake, then he would be back at the hotel room tending to her needs like the caring sibling he was. But as a responsible older brother, Yakko kept his word. But going to the movies just wouldn’t be the same without her. He missed having his nacho buddy right by his side.

The eldest Warner was pulled out of his thoughts the moment he felt his phone vibrate. He fished his phone from his pocket and he noticed the reassuring text message from Brain.

I commend your concern for your younger sister. Dot is taking a much-needed nap at the moment and she will be okay. : )

Yakko softly smiled at the good news. He was thankful for the mouse’s swift response as well as the contents of the message. “Dot’s fine under Brain’s care…” He reminded himself. He looked over at Wakko and Pinky, who seemed to make the most of their situation as they conversed in their typical eager fashion, almost as if nothing had gone wrong.

“I’m gonna buy so many snacks!” Wakko exclaimed, flapping their arms excitedly.

“Troz! And I’ll get to swim in the bucket of popcorn!” Pinky added with an equal amount of enthusiasm.

Yakko tried to conceal his concern with a small smile and a chuckle. “Yeah, it’s gonna be fun!” He lied with convincing enthusiasm.

However, Pinky managed to catch a glimpse of sadness behind the Warner Brother’s eyes. His big goofy smile faltered. The idea that Yakko was trying to hide something that was hurting him made Pinky’s tummy feel all tight, but not in a good way. But Pinky was determined to alleviate the teen’s woes.

“Is something wrong, Yakko?” The tall mouse asked concernedly.

Yakko gave a surprised expression before shrugging it off. “Oh, it’s nothing,” The teen replied, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Pinky pondered for a moment. He took his paw and rubbed the bottom of his chin as he thought, but snapped his fingers as he figured it out. “Well, I don’t know how to get rid of the nothing that’s bothering you, but I’m sure that the movie might take your mind off of it. Narf!” He explained optimistically.

Yakko looked at the mouse who took his problems quite literally and shook his head.

“No no no,” The oldest Warner dismissed while waving his arms. He looked back at Pinky, who cocked his head sideways and stared back at him with concern pooling from his blue eyes. There was something in the mouse’s eyes that compelled Yakko to tell the truth. “Well, it’s just that it feels wrong to go to the movies without Dot, ya know?” He confessed.

Pinky and Wakko gazed concernedly at Yakko, who continued to speak up. “I mean, who else am I gonna share my tray of nachos with?”

Wakko wordlessly raised their hand, but Yakko stared at them with skeptical eyes and crossed his arms. “Wakko, you’ll just consume the entire tray.” He interjected with a deadpan expression.

“Yeah, you’re probably right...” Wakko glumly admitted as he lowered their hand.

“And I don’t feel like I should be watching a movie when I should be back at the hotel taking care of my little sis.” The eldest Warner mentioned.

Pinky’s eyes widened. “So that's what Yakko was worried about!” He pondered to himself. Even though Dot’s absence was sorely felt by the three of them, it wasn’t the end of the world because Brain was currently tending to her every need. The lanky mouse knew how to comfort Yakko.

“We all miss Dot, but you don’t have to worry because Brain’s taking great care of her!” Pinky reminded him with a reassuring smile. “And I would know since he always takes great care of me!”

“He does?” Wakko asked curiously, tilting his head like an adorable puppy.

“Of course! Brain always makes me thimbles of nice hot tea whenever I get sick and patches me up whenever I get the owies after a failed plan to take over the world! Zort!” The mouse confidently explained. “And if Brain can take great care of me, he’ll take great care of Dot!”

Wakko believed in Pinky’s word. While he felt bad for Dot, he knew that their sister was in good hands. The middle child turned to face their older brother. “See, Dot’s gonna be fine!” He emphasized. “And besides, she commanded you to have fun just before we left the hotel room!”

“Yeah, I know…” Yakko muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don’t you trust Brain?” Pinky softly inquired.

Yakko was surprised by the mouse’s question. “Of course I do! I wasn’t implying that I didn’t. It’s just…” The eldest Warner stared at Pinky, whose blue eyes seemed to pierce his very soul, prompting him to demolish the barriers he built around his emotions. “Well, it’s really hard to ignore my big brother instincts, ya know?” He finally confessed. “Not to mention how weird it is to have someone else do my job.”

Wakko walked over to their older brother and gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. “But Pinky and The Brain have been taking care of us all weekend! They take us out for food, tell us bedtime stories, and give us goodnight kisses,” He reminded their older brother, with Pinky silently nodding. “They’re our dads, remember?”

“Dads?” Yakko quizzically repeated with a surprised look on his face.

Wakko’s face contorted into a worrisome frown. He thought that Yakko would already be on board with the mice becoming their parents, but apparently, that was not the case. “Well yeah.

Didn’t you hear me say ‘goodnight mouse dads’ last night?”

“No, he was fast asleep when you said that,” Pinky told the middle child.

Yakko stared at his sibling with a befuddled expression. In any other circumstance, Wakko would only use the words like ‘dad’ or ‘dadoo’ when he was messing with their special friend of the week. But there was an undeniable sincerity in Wakko’s voice when he referred to the mice as their parents. And considering how well the rodents have been taking care of them, the thought of them being parents was a nice idea. Pinky would always dote on him and his siblings and be incredibly supportive of them. Plus having constant praise and validation from the silly mouse is exactly what Yakko needed to combat his anxiety and self-worth issues. And despite his grumpiness and stern nature, Brain proved to be an excellent caretaker. The big-headed mouse was incredibly protective of him and his siblings and even humored them by indulging in their childish requests. Both mice were a pleasure to be around and they were decent guardians who looked out for them and deeply cared about them. They seemed like the perfect parents to have.

But Yakko felt his big brother instincts and anxiety nagging at him. He was taking good care of his sibs for decades without any intervention from any adults from the outside world. He was the sole caretaker of his siblings when the human adults at the Warner Bros. Studio thought they were too dangerous to be allowed in society and locked them away in the water tower like dogs at the pound. Even though Yakko admittedly believed that he could have benefitted from positive adult figures during those years in captivity, he managed to pull it off on his own. Taking care of his sibs was one of the things he was great at!

Now that Wakko adopted Pinky and Brain as their dads, Yakko feared that the mice would usurp his role as caretaker and would be rendered useless. What kind of big brother would he be if his role of nurturing provider, the one job he took the most pride in, was taken from him?

“Come on Wakko, don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just start referring to our friends as our parents.” Yakko scoffed as he circled his right hand in the air.

But Wakko took offense to their brother’s statement. “What’s his deal?” He thought as he gritted their teeth and flashed their fangs.

Wakko felt their eyes start to water as he curled their hands into fists and stomped on the ground. “Is that any way to talk to your dad!” Wakko shouted, gesturing towards Pinky.

Yakko was taken aback when he saw the tears forming in the corners of Wakko’s eyes. He didn’t mean to hurt their feelings. “Wakko-”

But before he could say anything else, Pinky interceded when he hopped down from Wakko’s hat and stood between the siblings. “Stop the fighting, please!” He pleaded with his watery blue eyes. “My heart breaks at the sight of sibling rivalries!”

Yakko looked at the buck-toothed mouse, overwhelmed with guilt. They were supposed to be having a fun time at the movies on Dot’s behalf, but the only things he accomplished were quarreling with Wakko and making Pinky cry. “Well, this is just great,”

The eldest Warner released a heavy sigh, shoved his hands in his pocket, and walked away from his sibling and mousey guardian. He slumped onto the bench and placed his head in his hands. Taking deep breaths, he dwelled over the scuffle. Sure he would eventually patch things up with Wakko, but he thought about Pinky. That poor innocent bundle of joy who loved almost everyone and everything in this world. And he made the little guy cry his little heart out. Yakko assumed that it would take a while longer for the mouse to forgive him after what he did.

“Poit!” Pinky softly spoke up. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Yakko lifted his head to find Pinky sitting on Wakko’s red hat. The two looked at him with worried expressions on their faces. Perhaps now was the time to set things right.

Yakko thought about what he wanted to say, took a deep breath, and exhaled. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, fellas.” He ruefully apologized. He took a moment to gather his courage before confessing one of his biggest fears. “It’s just that...well, I’m used to taking care of my sibs.”

Wakko wordlessly nodded in understanding. He remembered all the times Yakko took great strides to make sure he and Dot were provided for when they were stuck in the water tower and afterward. Making them meals, entertaining them with his jokes, schooling them with his educational songs, and telling stories before bedtime. Wakko knew that Yakko took a lot of pride in his role as the responsible eldest sibling.

Yakko looked at his sibling and the tall mouse as he continued to speak. “And while I trust Brain to watch over Dot, I never had anyone else take care of her in my place before. And I can’t help but feel so…” He struggled to get the word out from his throat, but managed to let out a defeated sigh.

“useless…”

Wakko stared at their brother with somber eyes. He could relate to feeling left out. Especially since his U.S. Capital's Song or The Great Wakkorotti didn’t stack up against Yakko’s Nations of the World or Dot’s Poetry Corner. The last thing he wanted was for their older brother to feel the same way.

“Now that’s just not true,” He thought determinedly. Yakko was many things: funny, talkative, boisterous, clever, sometimes annoying, charismatic, and musically-inclined. But never in all of his years did Wakko describe their older brother as useless. Far from it! Yakko simply needed to be reminded of how important he was.

Wakko sprinted over to Yakko and catapulted himself onto the bench. With open arms, he gave their brother the biggest hug possible. Yakko felt his eyes start to water as he was immersed in his sibling’s warm and affectionate embrace.

“You’re not useless, big brother,” The middle child assured as he gently rubbed their right hand up and down their brother’s back. “You’re one of the best people I know!”

Yakko blinked away the tears as he heard his sibling’s adamant praise.

“And besides, who else can come up with catchy songs about the universe or multiplication?” Wakko added with a playful smile.

Yakko let out a hearty chuckle. Touched by Wakko’s sincerity, he wrapped his arms around his sibling, pulling them close. “Aw, thanks baby sib.”

“Anytime, bro,” Wakko replied, giving him a couple of pats on the back.

Pinky was still perched on Wakko’s hat, watching the loving moment play out through tearful eyes. Their reconciliation played out just like those Hallmark Movie Channel films where the leads made up after their third-act breakup and gave each other warm hugs. But instead of conventionally attractive white couples, it was two toon siblings who fiercely loved in that strong familial way, which was a hundred times better! Oh, how he loved seeing family members make amends!

When the siblings slowly released themselves from the hug, Pinky hopped down and went over to Yakko’s knee to let him know just how special he was. “Feeling better, love?” The mouse kindly inquired while gently patting his knee.

Yakko looked at Pinky, who was comforting him like a parent soothing their child. The eldest Warner focused on the mouse’s soft blue eyes. There was not a single trace of malice or anger to be found. Only pure, unconditional love radiated from those eyes.

After spending decades locked away in the water tower and ignored by the workers in the studio lot, all Yakko ever wanted was attention. He craved any type of reaction from other people, whether it be good or bad. He could make people laugh or irritate them past their limits. Just as long as he received some sort of response, he was content. But as Yakko continued to stare into Pinky’s gentle eyes, he was reminded that the best type of attention was love. Not the romantic type or the adoration from viewers, but familial love. Yakko forged a strong brotherly affection for Wakko and Dot, who equally loved their big bro. Perhaps, he was willing to allow Pinky, and even Brain, to love him and his siblings like the good parents they set themselves up to be.

“Yeah, I’m feeling better now,” He assured the mouse. But there was something else nagging at him that he wanted to address. “But there’s something I gotta ask you, Pinky. Do you see yourself as our dad?”

Pinky did not hesitate to answer. “I do, but I could be your mum if that makes you more comfortable!”

Yakko softly chuckled. “I really appreciate you looking out for us, but I need some time to really think about this.”

Pinky gave the teen a gentle smile as he patted his knee once more. “Poit! That’s alright, take all the time that you need.”

With a sigh of relief, Yakko was grateful that Pinky didn’t try to rush things through and respected his feelings. If the rest of the weekend went by this smoothly, maybe he would have no issue with referring to the mice as his new dads.

Wakko looked at the two and decided to change the subject. “You know what, I don’t feel like going to the movies either.”

Yakko was surprised by what he just heard. “You don’t?”

“Sure! If you don’t wanna go to the movies, then neither do I.” He affirmed.

“Are you sure?” Yakko asked. He didn’t want to make Wakko feel like he had to make a sacrifice for his sake.

Wakko gave a confident nod. “We can always go to the movies some other time.” He insisted. “And as a middle child, I’m used to making compromises.”

The eldest Warner was relieved by his sibling’s astute answer and playfully ruffled their red cap. But with the movies now crossed off their planned schedule, he was uncertain of what he, Wakko, and Pinky should do to pass the time. “Now the only question left is what ways could we have fun outside of the hotel room?” Yakko pondered aloud. He brought himself into a thinking pose, propping his elbow onto his arm which was draped across his lap, and scratching his chin. Wakko sat down next to their brother and immediately copied his pose.

Pinky pondered as well. Deep in his thoughts, he looked at Yakko and Wakko, who fused into a rocket ship and opened up the ship’s hatch. Pinky immediately hopped inside to find Yakko and Wakko dressed in Star Trek uniforms. The lanky mouse looked down to find himself wearing a fetching red dress uniform from the original series. Yakko pressed a red button and they blasted off the bench and zoomed through the city skyline. Inside the ship, Pinky noticed a big sack full of toys and goodies. The ship crashed through a window, landing in the hotel room. Dot was dressed in an elegant nightgown and a purple fluffy boa draped over her shoulders while Brain, who now had long blonde hair, was dressed in a buttoned-down white satin shirt and black leather pants. The chubby mouse bit on a red rose as he read his book on world history. Dot and Brain were shocked by the sight of the rocket ship. The hatch opened, and the giant bag was pushed through the door and landed in the middle of the room. Yakko, Wakko, and Pinky emerged from the spacecraft and opened up the sack full of goodies. The Warners played with the various toys and games while Brain seductively winked at Pinky and tossed the rose. Pinky managed to catch it with his tail and blushed at his partner’s romantic gesture. Brain immediately wrapped his arm around Pinky’s waist and pulled him in for a sweeping kiss.

Pinky sighed as he was brought back to the real world. He had the most splendid idea and he couldn’t wait to share it with the Warners.

“Who says that we could only have fun outside?” The lanky mouse asked.

Wakko gave the mouse an incredulous look. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could bring all the fun inside the hotel room instead!” Pinky exclaimed.

Yakko and Wakko thought this through and grinned at the suggestion of bringing the fun back to the hotel room and including Dot and Brain in their activities. After all, she only wanted Yakko and Wakko to have fun but didn’t specify where they could have fun.

“That’s brilliant Pinky!” Yakko complimented. “Maybe we could do some fun arts and crafts projects!”

“Or play board games! And buy lots of snacks!” Wakko eagerly added.

“Or purple: all of the above!” Pinky cheered.

The three of them bounced off of the bench, excited to bring some much-needed fun to Dot and Brain. Pinky tugged at Wakko’s sweater sleeve, prompting the middle child to place the mouse back on top of their cap.

“We could go to the mall and purchase some supplies for today’s activities!” Pinky explained as he pulled out the gold credit card from his pocket.

“Well let’s hop to it!” Yakko declared. He broke off into a sprint, with Wakko running on all fours to keep up with their brother’s pace. Pinky laughed joyfully as he held onto the middle child’s red hat.

- - - - -

Back in the hotel room, Brain was silently reading Heidi while Dot was fast asleep in the other bed. The smaller mouse took another glimpse at the snoozing Warner sister. He had to admit that she was quite adorable. Hopefully, the girl would be on the mend by the time she woke up.

The small mouse let out a blissful sigh. After dealing with the hectic antics of the boisterous Warner siblings, it was nice to have a moment of peace and quiet. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to develop a brilliant plan for world domination!

Brain closed his book and quickly retrieved his journal and pens from his pocket. He was determined to devise a fool-proof scheme just in case his previously crafted giant robot plan backfired. Now the question was what could he do? Cradling the pen in his hands, he began to ponder the many ways he could ascend to power.

Create a mind-control app? Start a pop culture-themed podcast and send out subliminal messages during the ad-breaks? Start a TikTok trend that encourages participants to obey him? Blackmail Elon Musk? Promote an enticing convention and swindle money from con attendees? Stage an elaborate heist in the Mar-a-Lago Club? Build a drone to harass the politicians in Washington D.C.?

Oh, the possibilities were endless!

But his ears twitched upwards when he heard the door open. Pinky, Yakko, and Wakko returned to the hotel room, each carrying multiple bulk plastic bags filled with who knows what. As the three entered, Brain immediately shushed them, placing his index finger close to his mouth. Once he got their attention, he gestured towards Dot.

“Right-o!” Pinky whispered, giving his partner a thumbs up. Yakko and Wakko immediately did what they were told and tip-toed quietly into the room.

Yakko looked over at his sister, slept serenely in bed. He was quick to notice her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. Overcome with relief, the eldest Warner smiled. Dot was okay.

He looked over at Brain, who was putting away his novel and felt a pang of guilt for doubting him.

“Hey Brain,” Yakko addressed the big-headed mouse. “Thanks for watching over Dot.”

Brain smiled at the Warner brother. “You’re welcome.” He said. “And judging from your text, it’s quite obvious how lucky she is to have older siblings who love her dearly.”

Yakko smiled back, feeling touched by the praise. Wakko carefully patted his back.

“Hi, Dadoo!” Wakko happily greeted Brain.

The smaller mouse tilted his head in confusion at first. But then he remembered Wakko referring to him and Pinky as their dads last night and assumed that dadoo was just a unique term of endearment. “Greetings Wakko.” Brain replied with a small wave. “So how was the movie?”

“Oh, we didn’t go to the movies,” Wakko answered.

“You didn’t?” Brain inquired. “Then where pray tell, did you three go?”

“We just came back from the mall,” Pinky reported. “Yakko and Wakko came up with these fun ideas of activities we could do instead, so we all decided to have a fun-fun, silly-willy day in the hotel room!”

“We figured that we’ll take it easy for today,” Yakko said.

Yakko and Wakko took out some of the contents from the bags, such as materials for arts and crafts, Jenga, Connect Four, and Chutes and Ladders. Pinky also took out a few items from the bag.

Pinky brought a few packages for Brain. “Here, I bought these just for you. Troz!”

Brain opened up the bag to find over a dozen packages of doll clothes. The mouse marveled at various suit jackets, coats, sweaters, pants, and royal outfits Pinky purchased for him. His beau remembered his fashion preferences and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I remembered what you said about making as many extrapolate purchases as possible. So that’s what I did!” The taller mouse explained.

Brain was so flattered by Pinky’s memory that he didn’t even bother to correct his poor vocabulary. “Why Pinky, I’m touched by this kind gesture.” He said graciously.

“Aww Brain,” Pinky cooed.

“I’m going to get started on my next graphic novel!” Wakko declared as he took out one of their library books from the book bag.

Yakko also retrieved his book on European architecture from the bag and sat cross-legged on the ground. He took one of the bags and dumped out its contents. Packages of popsicle sticks and various bottles of glue sprawled across the floor. The teen opened up the package and carefully took out the popsicle sticks and began assembling his latest crafts project.

Brain couldn’t help but notice the eldest Warner’s determined look as he began gluing the popsicle sticks in a large circle while using his library book as a reference. The mouse was fascinated by this development and walked over to the teen. “So, uh what are you up to?” The pudgy mouse politely asked.

“Oh, I’m building a popsicle stick model of The Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris.” Yakko casually explained. “I read about it in my library book on European architecture.”

“Ah, le Sacré-Coeur de Montmartre.” Brain blissfully sighed. The mouse was impressed with the oldest Warner’s excitement for recreating the iconic church. “Would you like any assistance?”

“Sure!” Yakko answered enthusiastically.

The mouse was pleased with the thought of being included in a wholesome crafts project. Brain took out a few popsicle sticks and collaborated with the Warner brother in companionable silence.

As they built their model cathedral constructed from popsicle sticks, Yakko continued to muse over the idea of the mice becoming new additions to their little family. Pinky constantly doting on them, showering them with praise and gifts.

Brain, on the other hand, was a grump who could be stern at times but was ultimately a softie who had their best interests in mind. Yakko loved to tease the serious mouse whenever he had the opportunity, but he also loved to share his educational pursuits with him, knowing that the intellectual would appreciate it.

He also took Pinky and Brain’s short stature into consideration. Since they were small mice, Yakko and his sibs could cause as much chaos as possible and they would have some challenges keeping up with their silly antics.

There was a lot of untapped potential in allowing the rodents into their everyday lives, and Yakko couldn’t help but ponder the possibilities.

But the teen lost his train of thought when he heard a soft mumbling from the bed. Wakko, Pinky, and Brain also stopped what they were doing and turned their attention towards Dot, who roused from her sleep. Stretching her arms, the Warner sister fluttered her eyes and slowly got up into a sitting position on the bed.

Yakko was the first to notice his sister getting up and smiled. “Great to have you back, Lazarus.” He joked. Dot couldn’t help but snicker at her brother’s quip. Yakko decided to ask a more serious question. “You feeling better sis?”

“Yeah.” She answered. “How long was I asleep?”

“About a couple of weeks, give or take,” Pinky answered with a shrug.

“Pinky!” Brain berated his partner. He then turned his attention to the girl. “You’ve been asleep for a couple of hours.”

Dot nodded as she carefully adjusted to a sitting position on the bed. “Thanks for helping me, Brain.”

The smaller mouse smiled humbly. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh Dot, I’ve got you something from the store!” Pinky crowed. He sprinted towards one of the bags and took out a plastic box containing a family of Calico Critters. Lifting the package over his head, he raced to the girl’s bedside.

Dot’s eyes twinkled as she eagerly took the package. She inspected the small bunny family dressed in their finest countryside attire. While Dot prided herself on being an intelligent young woman, she didn’t have it in her to hide away her interests in soft toys and plushies.

“Oh thank you Pinky! You’re the best!” She exclaimed as she scooped Pinky up and nuzzled her cheek against his face.

The smaller mouse laughed and let out a “Troz!” as he was smothered with affection.

Wakko contentedly sighed as he closed the graphic novel. The middle child got up to place the book back into the book bag. “I should get back to work on my latest artistic masterpiece!” He declared as he rummaged through their pocket. But the drawing wasn’t there.

He rushed over to the book bag and dumped out all the books, hoping that their drawing would fly out. Only a dozen books plummeted onto the floor. Wakko scrambled through the library books in search of their precious illustration but to no avail.

Yakko and Brain paused their popsicle stick construction when they noticed a distressed Wakko desperately looking for something important.

“What’s wrong, Wakko?” Yakko asked concernedly.

“My drawing!” Wakko warbled as tears started pouring down their cheeks. “I must have left it back at the library!”

Brain got up and carefully approached the worried Warner sibling. “Now now, it’s not the end of the world, Wakko. You can make another drawing here.” He soothed. Providing words of comfort wasn’t one of his strong suits, but he was trying his best.

“But it’s very important to me!” The middle child trembled as the waterfall of tears continued to fall.

Brain felt something stirring deep inside him. Seeing Wakko reduced to tears over his missing illustration brought up the painful memory of Pinky sobbing uncontrollably when he forgot to send his letter to Santa. The mouse learned not to brush aside Pinky’s own wants as trivial and he would not do the same for the middle Warner sibling.

With his tiny pink paws, Brain gently patted the child’s foot. “Dry your tears Wakko, we’ll retrieve your picture from the library before closing time.”

“You will?” Wakko grinned at the mouse despite the tears that streaked their face. Brain replied with a confident nod.

The smaller mouse retrieved his smartphone from his pocket and tapped his Google app. He typed the name of the library in the search bar and hit the magnifying glass button. He immediately found the results and looked over at the library information on the right-hand side, searching for the weekend hours of availability. The library closes at 5:00 PM. He looked over at the time on the top left-hand corner of the phone. It was now 4:45 PM.

Brain looked over at Wakko with sheer determination. “Come along, Wakko. We’ll make it to the library faster if we take my human suit.”

The chubby mouse sprinted over towards his robot, swiftly climbed up the suit, and hopped inside the driver’s seat. Yanking the control levers, he swiftly grabbed Wakko and made their way out of the hotel room. The mouse ran over to the elevator and saw the doors about to close. Brain managed to place his foot on the divider, stopping the doors from closing. Once he got inside, Brain pressed the rooftop button.

“But aren’t we going to the library?” Wakko asked worriedly.

“We are Wakko, we won’t be walking or taking a cab.” Brain answered with fierce determination.

“But I will promise you that we will arrive at the library before closing time.” He guaranteed.

Once the elevator doors opened, Brain began to sprint towards the center of the rooftop patio. “Hold on to your hat!” He commanded, and the middle child firmly guarded their red cap with one hand.

Pressing the red button in the controls, Brain ignited the jet-powered boosters on his shoes and he took off from the rooftop and ascended above the hotel. Brain carefully steered the controls as he flew across the city skyline, careful to keep Wakko secure in his arms.

Wakko kept a strong grip over their hat as their eyes wandered down to the ground. He looked over to The Brain, who kept a determined stare as he searched for the public library. Wakko stuck out their tongue and let out an enthusiastic cheer.

“Wooooo!!!” Wakko joyfully shouted. Many onlookers in the city streets turned their attention to the strange robotic suit carrying the eager toon. Not the most unusual thing spotted in Los Angeles on a Saturday afternoon.

Brain spotted the library gardens and swiftly descended towards his destination. Jerking the controls, Brain landed near the library entrance in a superhero pose. Wakko released himself from Brain��s hold and ran into the library.

Upon remembering the no-running policy, Wakko sped-walked over to the children’s section. Once he burst through the entrance of the kid-friendly area, Wakko picked up the pace. He spotted the drawing tables but was sullen to find them bare, save for the box of colored pencils.

“Oh no!” Wakko gasped. Someone must have stolen his artwork! While he didn’t have the same detective skills as Hercule Yakko, he was determined to get to the bottom of this!

“Can I help you?” A kind voice asked. Wakko turned around to find the nice librarian he met this morning. Maybe she can help him solve the case!

“Excuse me Miss Librarian, I left my important drawing on the table earlier, and now it’s gone!” Wakko nervously explained while rocking on their heels in anticipation.

The librarian sympathetically looked at the child before remembering. “Oh, that’s because I saved it!”

“Really!?” Wakko exclaimed.

“Yep,” The librarian confirmed as she opened up the drawer and took out the illustration. “Normally we recycle any pictures that are left behind, but I thought that this picture was too good to be tossed out. Plus I figured that you and your family would have come back for it anyway.”

The librarian gave the picture back to Wakko, who quickly retrieved it. The middle child gazed at the drawing with tears of joy.

“Reunited and it feels so good!” He cheered while clutching the picture to their chest. “Thank you very much, Miss Librarian!”

“Your welcome.” The librarian kindly replied.

Wakko waved at her as he made their bouncy exit from the children’s section. By the time he exited the children’s section, he found Brain awkwardly waiting by the circulation desk.

“Found it!” He proclaimed as he showed the mouse the back of the picture.

“That’s wonderful.” Brain sighed in relief. “May I see your illustration?”

“I’m not finished with my drawing yet. But I promise I’ll show you when it’s done.” Wakko said as he stuffed the picture in their shirt. “Scout’s honor!”

“Very well. Let’s make our way back to the hotel.” Brain said as he held Wakko’s hand. Once the two made their way out of the library, Wakko tugged at the robotic arm hard enough to gain Brain’s attention.

“Hey Dadoo, can we fly again?” Wakko eagerly asked, bouncing up and down.

“I would prefer if we walked.” Brain answered hesitantly.

“Awww,” Wakko groaned in defeat.

“Come now, walking has its benefits.” Brain reassured the middle child, but they still looked down at the sidewalk, kicking a stone pebble out of frustration. The mouse furrowed his brow as he pondered. Certainly, the best way to please Wakko was to please their appetite.

Brain gently squeezed Wakko’s hand, causing the Warner sibling to look up at the big-headed mouse. “I know of a wonderful designer donut shop where we can pick up two boxes of confectioneries to share with the others.”

Wakko’s eyes widened with joy, eager to visit his favorite donut shop once again. “Yay!” The middle child chirped before leaping into Brain’s arms. The mouse was caught unaware by Wakko’s sudden gesture of love but welcomed it nonetheless.

- - - - -

Back at the hotel room, Yakko, Dot, and Pinky were playing an intense game of Jenga. Pinky inspected the unsteady tower, searching for the perfect block to remove. The mouse found a loose piece. He yanked it out in one swift motion, but the tower soon collapsed on him.

Dot put a hand over her mouth as she saw the poor mouse toppled by the Jenga blocks. Yakko couldn’t help but laugh at the tower’s sudden destruction, but the Warner sister swiftly elbowed him.

Fortunately, Pinky popped out of the pile with a hearty laugh. “Oh, that was so much fun! Narf!”

“Let’s play another round!” Yakko declared as he gathered a handful of Jenga blocks. He began to assemble the tower when the door clicked open. He, Dot and Pinky turned their heads to see Brain entering the room, carrying Wakko in one arm (whose face was covered with strawberry frosting and rainbow sprinkles) and two boxes of donuts in the other.

“Hi fellas!” Wakko greeted with a wave.

“Hey, Wakko!” Dot called back. The middle child was relieved to know that their little sister looked much healthier and seemed to be on the mend.

“Did you find your drawing?” Yakko asked his sibling. “Yup!” Wakko cheered as he jumped out of Brain’s grasp and onto the floor. “And we also found donuts!” He swiftly took the two boxes and opened one of them, showcasing eleven donuts.

Pinky trotted over to the box and gazed at the many different flavors. “I’ve never seen so many donuts like this in my life!”

“Oh, they’re the best!” Wakko exclaimed as he was about to list off the various donuts. “There’s brie, white cheddar, chicken noodle soup, buffalo chicken, seafood salad, avocado, macaroon, bacon, ranch dressing, and macaroni and cheese!”

“Ooh, so many choices! Zort!” Pinky exclaimed. “But I’ll have the macaroni and cheese donut please!” Wakko happily handed the donut over to Pinky who eagerly accepted the unusual treat.

Brain retrieved a handful of napkins from his suit pocket and offered them to the group. “Now let’s save the hotel cleaning staff the trouble and avoid making a colossal mess.”

“Okay Brain!” Pinky replied as he took a napkin. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot quickly grabbed some napkins from the robotic hand before grabbing their donuts of choice.

The chubby mouse placed the last two napkins on his bed before exiting the robotic suit. After landing on the mattress, he walked over to the box of donuts to inspect the bizarre donut flavors.

Before Wakko could eat his second donut, he noticed Brain having a difficult time selecting which flavor to indulge himself with. The middle child remembered how Brain offered his french fries the other night and decided to return the favor. He looked at their donut and split it in half.

“Here Dadoo, have some of my mashed potatoes with butter and gravy donut!” Wakko eagerly offered.

“That’s awfully kind of you Wakko, but I’m all set.” Brain declined. “I think I’ll have the brie donut instead.”

“Okay, suit yourself!” Wakko concluded. He threw the two halves of his donut in the air and caught them in their mouth. Wakko hummed contentedly as he felt the mashed potato, butter, and gravy melt in their mouth before swallowing.

“So Brain, what’s the dinner situation like?” Dot inquired as she cautiously took a small bit from her donut, careful about not upsetting her stomach again.

Brain pondered for a moment. Dot’s sudden illness threw a wrench in his plans to take the kids out to a fancy restaurant, throwing away another chance at having an elegant dining experience over the weekend while he could pay for it. But Brain was never one to dwell in defeat. He couldn’t change what he can’t control, but he could always adapt.

“Is anyone in the mood for room service?” Brain asked the group.

“Now we’re talking!” Yakko exclaimed.

The mouse hopped over to the nightstand and took out the pamphlet regarding the hotel’s room service. After everyone informed him of what they wanted, Brain picked up the telephone, punched in the numbers, and requested a lengthy dinner order: meatloaf and side vegetables for Yakko, roast beef and chicken for Wako, chicken noodle soup and caesar salad for Dot, garlic jumbo prawns and filet mignon for himself and a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes and pudding snacks for Pinky.

A half-hour later, their dinners arrived. The Warners sat down on the floor as they consumed their respective meals. Pinky dove into the potato as if it was a swimming pool. Brain was satisfied with his meal, thankful that the steamed carrots that came with his prawns were served al dente.

After dinner, The Warners plopped back onto the bed rather exhausted after a long day. Dot took the remote control and turned on the television. She searched through the hotel’s selected movies in search of something decent to sit through.

“The Sandlot was a bit of a let down in my opinion, so I’m gonna pick out tonight’s movie.” Dot drawled as she scanned through the various movie titles.

After a minute of scrolling past some bland-looking movies, she came across an unusual-looking movie poster. A picture of Brain wearing a brown toupee standing in a dramatic pose with his eyes closed beneath the bold text of the title: A Beautiful Brain.

Wakko and Dot ‘oohed’ and ‘awed’ at the screen. Yakko initially let out an amused snort but then he read that the movie was nominated for several Academy Awards, including Best Picture. A movie that was directed by and starred Brain somehow was in the running for Best Picture?

The Warners were wildly curious about the fact that Brain of all people was involved in such a prestigious movie.

“Okay, I have so many questions right now!” Yakko declared. “Were there no good movies out the year you made that movie?”

“What made you want to direct?” Dot asked with genuine intrigue.

“Can we watch this movie please?” Wakko begged.

Brain waved his hands in the air. “Now, calm down.” He ordered with an indignant frown. “To answer your inquiries, yes I acted, directed, and produced this piece of critically acclaimed Oscar bait, and, as you children would suspect, it was all part of an elaborate plan to take over the world.”

“By winning the hearts of critics and audiences everywhere?” Dot spoke up.

“Unfortunately, that wasn’t the main objective of my plan.”

“So what’s it about?” Wakko asked curiously with their tongue bouncing about.

“A Beautiful Brain follows the story of a once-promising gifted student who grows up to be a weary and cynical college professor who learns that his value in life extends beyond what he could provide with his superior intellect.” Brain explained.

“Oh, it’s such an emotional rush! I laughed, I cried, picked my nose when no one was looking!” Pinky eagerly added. “And it could have won Best Picture too, if it hadn’t been for…” The mouse’s smile contorted into a rueful frown as he remembered his blunder during his mission to secure Brain’s place as Best Picture winner so he could take over the world on Oscar night. “Me...”

Pinky tucked his legs in, wrapped his arms around his knees, and lowered his head on top of his kneecaps. Brain gave a sympathetic sigh and gently rubbed his partner’s back. “But all is well, dear Pinky.”

“What happened?” Yakko inquired.

“I was supposed to rig the ceremony by putting in Brain’s envelope in the winners’ pile, but I accidentally put in my no-bake cheesecake recipe in the envelope by mistake!” Pinky sadly recalled.

“And had I been announced the winner, I would have used my immobilization ray to kidnap the entire audience of Hollywood elites and force them to do my bidding.” Brain finished as he continued to caress Pinky’s back in a soothing manner. “But it’s best not to dwell on past failures.” The pudgy mouse reminded his partner.

“Can we still watch the movie?” Wakko asked anxiously.

The smaller mouse cringed at the question. Truthfully, he had not revisited the movie since it premiered in select theaters, and since they recounted their failed plan to the kids, he was not in the mood to watch his critically acclaimed vanity project.

“No, you kids wouldn’t enjoy it.” Brain insisted. “It’s a dreadfully long movie with too many conversational scenes and not enough action to keep your attention.”

“You’re right, that doesn’t sound very captivating at all,” Yakko remarked.

“Yes,” Brain said dryly, brushing aside the eldest Warner’s quip. “In all honesty, the movie makes The English Patient look like Mad Max: Fury Road.”

“Wait a minute, they made another of those movies?” Dot asked. Yakko and Wakko were equally surprised by this revelation. Apparently, they glossed over the most recent Mad Max movie in their Reboot It song.

“You haven’t seen Mad Max: Fury Road !?” Pinky and Brain shouted simultaneously. The Warners wordlessly shook their heads in unison. The mice looked at each other and knew that this needed to be remedied.

“Oh, it’s only one of the best movies in the history of history!” Pinky explained. “There are so many cars that go zoom-zoom-zoomie! Zort! And there’s a lot of emotional moments that make you feel all soft and gooshy!”

“Fury Road is a cinematic masterpiece that works on so many levels!” Brain added. “Brilliant action set-pieces, a major focus on visual storytelling with biting commentary on the brutality of war, and a magnificent exploration of feminism.”

“Feminism in my action movie!?” Dot gushed, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Sign me up!”

“Alright, let’s see if we can find this movie anywhere,” Yakko said as he scrolled through the various movie titles until he found a colorful movie poster featuring a woman with a shaved head and a man in the front seat of a car.

“Oooh, so pretty,” Wakko awed. As he read the descriptor he noticed one huge obstacle. “Aw man, the movie is rated R...”

Brain hummed in response. “It appears that this movie is deemed inappropriate for children…” He drawled as he gazed at the Warners’ defeated expressions. But he laughed in response. “But we’re cool guardians, right Pinky?”

“Amen to that!” Pinky cheerfully responded.

“And if we’re going off by the date you were originally conceived in the Warner Brothers Animation Department, all three of you are technically over the age of seventeen and needn’t worry about this sort of issue.” Brain stated confidently.

Yakko and Wakko bounced up and down the bed in elation, linking their arms and doing a do-si-do. Dot went over and hugged the mice. “Yes! I can’t believe you two are gonna let us watch the adult action movie!”

“It would be a crime not to show this movie to you kids,” Brain chuckled.

“Yes! Best dads ever!” She declared as she hugged them close, their cheeks squishing together. Pinky savored the affection while Brain was stunned by the sudden gesture. Once they broke away, Dot carefully cradled the mice in her hands.

“But mark my words, I will watch your Oscar contender at some point, old man!” Dot added.

“Yes, yes, certainly.” Brain waved his hand in dismissal. “But for now, let us indulge in this beautifully crafted piece of action cinema.”

Dot gently carried the mice in her hands as she brought them over to the other bed. Yakko and Wakko landed on the bed and got into their movie-watching positions.

During the movie, Brain was surprised to learn that the Warners remained relatively still when watching the movie. Although Wakko did get up from time to time to act out the thrilling action scenes.

Brain was so invested in the movie that it took him a few minutes to realize that something soft and warm had wrapped around his broken, zig-zagged tail. He looked down to see Pinky’s tail intertwined with his. A gesture normally reserved for moments of intimate cuddling after a failed scheme to take over the world or a particularly grueling day of experiments at the lab. Regardless, Brain smiled at Pinky’s affectionate gesture.

The pudgy mouse looked over at the Warners and his partner before releasing a contented sigh. Even though they weren’t able to go to the movie theater together, they still managed to watch a movie from the comfort of the hotel room.

Once the credits rolled, the Warners applauded as Brain turned off the television set. Brain tried to get up but felt a sharp pain in his rear when he tried to move. He looked over at Pinky and noticed that their tails were still tangled together.

The color of Brain’s cheeks and tail tinted to a light shade of pink. “Pinky!” He alerted his partner, gesturing to their tails.

The taller mouse looked over at their tails and blushed at the sight of their intimate display. “Oh, sorry Brain,” Pinky replied with a sheepish smile. He slowly unraveled his tail, careful not to hurt his partner, and liberated his appendage.

Brain was ready to give a reprimanding speech to Pinky about showcasing such lewd activity in front of the children but was alerted when he felt a gloved finger gently patting his large head. The mouse turned to see the Warner sister batting her eyes and endearing him to her cuteness.

“Hey Brain, can you and Pinky tell us a story?” Dot asked. Wakko nodded enthusiastically with their tongue bouncing about.

“We would be delighted to, wouldn’t we Pinky?” Brain answered as he slyly glanced at his partner.

Pinky eagerly rushed over to his beau’s side, pulling him into a side hug. “We should tell the story of Rapunzel- no! We should act out the story of Rapunzel, Brain! With costumes and sets!” He suggested. The Warners were excited at the idea of the mice putting on a show for them.

“Sounds like an ambitious endeavor, but with enough ingenuity, we can pull it off.” Brain concurred. “Now, we just need to obtain materials for the set, some costumes, and a long wig for Rapunzel’s hair.”

“I’ve got some pieces of cardboard from the crafts store,” Yakko stated, pointing over to the small pile of art materials.

“Excellent!” Brain said with a confident grin.

“I have some Calico Critter clothes that would fit you both.” Dot added.

“Wonderful!” Pinky exclaimed, clasping his hands together.

“I’ve got some pisghetti for Rapunzel’s hair!” Wakko declared. He reached into their hammerspace and retrieved a handful of long, moist strands of thin spaghetti, which was covered with small specks of black fur.

Brain stared at the spaghetti and back at the middle child. “Wakko, I am both amazed and disgusted by your creativity.” The smaller mouse remarked. Wakko grinned at the unusual compliment.

“Now, Pinky and I need approximately fifteen minutes to prepare for our low-budget stage production of Rapunzel. So I suggest that you three get ready for bed.”

The Warners saluted the mice and immediately began their bedtime routine of changing into their pajamas and brushing their teeth.

The mice were quick to construct an elaborate set made entirely out of cardboard, don their wardrobes, come up with a script on the fly and memorize said script and all the musical numbers. Pinky was excited to play the role of Rapunzel. The mouse wore a lavender dress and fashioned the spaghetti into a braided blonde wig. Brain decided to play the leading man, wearing a teal vest, a white undershirt, and black pants, and his brown toupee (the same toupee he wore when he taught high school under his Mr. Brainslowski alias and when he acted in A Beautiful Brain).

The Warners emerged from the bathroom in their pajamas. Yakko had a grey T-Shirt with the Warner Bros. logo and red flannel pajama pants. Wakko wore a hockey jersey and a blue bathrobe. Dot a purple nightshirt and matching pajama pants. The siblings were surprised to see a small set on the foot of their bed and the mice already dressed in their respective costumes.

“So, you guys have everything all set?” Yakko asked.

Pinky eagerly nodded. “I’m so excited to play the role of Rapunzel!” He declared as he twirled around.

“And I’m equally excited to play the role of Finn Glider! The charming rogue and Rapunzel’s love interest.” Brain explained dramatically as he struck a dynamic pose.

Yakko raised his hand in objection. “Uuuuuhhh, but isn’t his name Flynn Ri-”

“Ah ah ah!” Brain interrupted with a pointed finger. “We don’t want the mouse to sue, now do we?”

“But Brain, why on earth would I want to sue you?” Pinky questioned as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Brain rolled his eyes and he took Pinky’s hand. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” He told his partner as he tugged him by his hand, retreating behind the curtains of their makeshift stage and turned off the lights.

Moments later, a small puppeteer’s box emerged from the curtains, with a small dim light behind the screen. The mice picked up their shadow puppet props as Brain’s booming voice provided the expository information in the prologue.

“Once upon a time in a faraway kingdom there lived a beautiful princess. But the poor girl was kidnapped at a young age by an awful hag. The poor girl, whom the hag named Rapunzel, lived in solitude in an abandoned tower in the woods. Each day, she stared out at the world from her tower window, longing for companionship…”

The lights behind the small screen blew out. The puppeteer’s box was wheeled away to the left and the curtains pulled back to reveal a painted forest background and a cardboard tower. So far the Warners were impressed with the mice’s creativity and were immediately invested in the play.

Pinky strutted onto the stage, but Brain quickly yanked him back. “You have to open up the tower window, you imbecile!” Brain reprimanded in a hushed voice.

“Oh, sorry Brain!” Pinky whispered back. The Warners suppressed their laughter as the mice dealt with their theatrical screw-up.

The cardboard shutters to the cardboard tower flew open and Pinky popped his head out with a radiant smile on his face.

“Oh, what a lovely morning it is outside! Narf!” He spoke in a somewhat monotone voice. He looked down to refer to his script and continued on. “The animals are having such a fun-fun silly-willy time outside, and yet I am alone in my tower. Oh, how I wish I had someone to talk to.”

At that moment, Brain waltzed onto the stage and stood in a dramatic pose.

Pinky smiled and waved at his co-star. “Greetings, fair person!” He exclaimed. “And what might your name be?”

Brain looked up at the tower and tossed back his toupee. “It is I, Finn Glider! Notorious outlaw, cunning rogue, and certified ladies’ man!” The mouse flashed a smarmy grin at his audience.

Yakko and Dot stifled their giggles.

Wakko, on the other hand, was frightened at the sight of Brain baring his teeth and pulled their hat downward to shield their eyes. “You guys didn’t tell me that this was a scary story!” He wailed.

After giving a smug smile, he turned his attention back to Pinky and approached the cardboard tower. “And who might you be fair maiden?” He inquired. “I could only hope your name is as beautiful as your face!”

“My name is Pinky- I mean, Rapunzel! Zort!” Pinky faltered.

“Nice save,” Brain muttered sarcastically.

“Thank you, Brain.” Pinky kindly replied whilst batting his eyes. The mouse glanced back at the script in his hands and focused on his performance. “So Finn, would you like to drop by for a spot of tea?”

“That sounds lovely, fair Rapunzel.” Brain eagerly responded. He looked to the tower and his smile turned into a forlorn frown. “But alas, I have no way to access the tower.”

“Not to worry, Finn. For I could let down my hair for you to climb up the tower!” Pinky crowed.

Brain knelt down and extended his arm out to Pinky. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair!”

The taller mouse gathered the braided spaghetti wig, which proved to be much heavier than he anticipated. But nevertheless, he happily dropped the pasta wig, which crash-landed on top of Brain. The Warners laughed at the sudden slapstick comedy while the chubby mouse let out an exasperated sigh.

“Glad to know you kids are enjoying yourselves…” Brain soured.

Once he got up, he climbed up the spaghetti wig. However, this proved to be a challenge, for the pasta was surprisingly slippery after staying in Wakko’s pocket for an uncertain amount of time. Upon reaching the top of the tower, Pinky pulled him through the window and the curtains closed, ending the scene.

For the next half hour, the mice continued to perform their rendition of Rapunzel, and the Warners were enchanted throughout the play. In the final scene, the two mice sat in a boat made from a used toilet paper roll cylinder, singing a passionate duet about finding the light and falling in love. Once Pinky and Brain completed their song, they leaned in for a kiss and the curtains closed.

The children stood up and applauded. The mice emerged from the curtains to see their enthusiastic audience. Pinky and Brain exchanged loving glances, proud that they were able to pull off a play in a short amount of time and with limited resources. Clasping their paws together, the mice bowed.

“Oh man, that was a riot!” Yakko cheered.

“Two thumbs way up!” Dot agreed.

Pinky took off his pasta wig and walked up to Wakko. “Oh, can I eat some of the spaghetti?” He pleaded with the middle child.

“Of course,” Wakko said, as he took the spaghetti and split it evenly between themselves and the smaller mouse. “After all, sharing is caring. Right, Brain?”

The intelligent mouse was surprised that not only Wakko remembered his dry remark from their dinner at McDonald’s, but how he has taken it to heart. “That’s correct, Wakko.”

Pinky took one of the strands and offered it to Brain. “Here, you take this end of the spaghetti and we’ll recreate that iconic kiss from Lady and the Tramp!”

Brain silently shoved the spaghetti back to Pinky. “A tempting offer, but I would prefer to have pasta that wasn’t stuffed in someone’s pocket for Lord knows how long.”

“Okay, more for me!” Pinky said before slurping the spaghetti. Brain shook his head at his partner’s moronic display.

Pinky was about to give Brain a kiss, but Brain held his hand up before their lips could collide. “I will only kiss you after you brush your teeth.” He commanded.

“Right!” Pinky agreed.

“Okay children, you know the routine.” Brain addressed.

The Warners nestled themselves underneath the covers. They were rather exhausted after an eventful day and were ready to hit the hay.

Pinky and Brain gave each of the siblings their mandatory goodnight kiss on the cheek before Wakko gave them a goodnight smooch on their heads in return. After the middle child placed them on the nightstand, the mice hopped to their bed.

By the time Wakko turned off the lamp, Brain collapsed on the pillow, eager to fall asleep. The mouse closed his eyes and was ready to drift off to his slumber when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes to see Pinky gazing at him with a worried look.

“Don’t go to sleep just yet,” Pinky said. “I’ve got a surprise for you in the bathroom.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound unsettling in the slightest.” Brain sarcastically remarked.

“But Brain,” Pinky whined.

Brain looked into Pinky’s eyes and pondered for a moment. The last surprise Pinky planned for him turned out to be a fun karaoke night. Perhaps he should have more faith in his partner and indulge in whatever he had in store for him.

“Oh, alright.” Brian surrendered in an exasperated tone.

“Great!” Pinky cheered as he gave Brain a quick smooch on his chubby cheek. “I promise you’re gonna love it! Just give me ten minutes to prepare!”

With that, the lanky mouse hopped down from the bed and scurried over to the restroom. Brain placed his paw over his right cheek and let out a tired sigh. “I don’t know whether to be excited or scared of what that imbecile has up his sleeve.”

AN: I apologize for the long break between chapters. I was feeling the winter blues and hit a bad writer’s block. Fortunately, I managed to overcome that roadblock and now I’m focusing on my writing. The next chapter is going to be considerably shorter compared to the last few chapters and more Brinky-centric, but it’s just as important in regards to character growth.

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #fanfic #brain #pinky #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner

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