ur future, uwu

♡  —  URFUTUREUWU,  an independent rp blog for Reginald 'The Wrench' Blechman of Ubisoft's Watch Dogs series. This blog is for mature audiences & mutuals only.  Visual and written triggers are untagged, so enter at your own risk. 

          ✺ IT’S OF NO CONSEQUENCE, the speed and nature of the deflection.  hand swatted away with ease - as if Uta was not stood atop the top of the food chain.  dark eyes blinking from carved hollows.  “would it persuade you otherwise if I were to wash them?”  words phrased as a jest, but humor barren of tone or scarce peaks of expression beneath.  not missing a beat before his next inquiry.  “did you make it yourself?  your mask.”  handiwork the likes of which was unfamiliar to him.

“Uh, that depends on how well you wash them. You gunna do one of those ‘rinse and walkaway’ things or actually use soap like a civilized hu - uh, person.” And whereas this man was empty of tone and inflection, Wrench had a little too much to him. The sound of his voice, as always, distorted but hiding nothing of his amusement, and the way he tries to pass off his own minor panic as a joke, the wobbly way his voice sounds before he refocuses - always eager to brag about his own work. “Yeah, I did. It’s a - new model. The last one kinda got - overheated.” He relaxes, one hand touching the side of his mask as it flicks between expressions ( x's and question marks ). Fingers delicate as they touch upon spikes before retreating. 

           ✺ INVADING THE OTHER’S SPACE without a moment’s hesitation — open palm raising to consider the other’s mask.  head canting with dark locks falling about his shoulder.  “welcome to the masquerade.”

@urfutureuwu​ ( wrench / uta )

            ❝ It looks … ”  dangerous?  infeasible?  inevitably going to cause a high level of … how else to phrase it, but ‘ alarm ’ to, at an  [ optimistic minimum ]  five mile radius?  “unstable.”  coming to idle at a distance not quite considered safe — .  weight shifting to caned side as head canted and fingers idled overtop his lips in muted contemplation.  “though I admit, the spikes give it … character.”

@urfutureuwu ( wrench and viktor )

            it’s already all so much — did wrench ( sorry, reg )  HAVE to sit in his lap, too? shuichi groans a little as the weight sinks onto him, and his face immediately burns red, deepening when his hand closes around his thighs. but his own embarrassment doesn’t last long, attention diverted by him pulling the mask off.

he doesn’t… look like he expected, though shuichi isn’t quite sure what he expected, honestly. he’s… almost plain, birthmark aside — especially next to himself, or dabi, or shigaraki. shuichi huffs a breath, warm as it hangs between them. they’re close. intimately so.

shuichi stares at him for a moment longer, then swallows, and looks down.

“fair enough,” he mumbles, breath catching as reggie’s fingers brush along his neck. he shivers involuntarily. his scales have always been overly sensitive, something he’s bound to quickly discover. “i, um….” his face is still hot, but he forces himself to look up and meet his eyes. it’s a rare thing, after all. and then he clears his throat. “you say that like it’s gonna deter me.”

his own hands move, then, like he’s just remembered they exist, and settle on reggie’s arms, somewhere between elbows and shoulders. if they’re going to do this, truly, they need to start somewhere. “it’s gonna be…. weird for you, probably, like, unfamiliar, but can i — can i kiss you?”

It’s always difficult, the first few moments of being maskless in front of someone that’s new to the sight, but Reggie likes to think he handles it well. Gazing not quite back at Spinner but enough so he doesn’t look cowardly. Grin still haughty and crooked, but something tender about his expression, his brow raising as the seconds tick into a handful of minutes of staring, before Shuichi backs down, leaving just him. Breath strangely light as he pushes away his own discomfort to poke at that of his companion.

“Mm, you never know.” A lazy, rolling shrug. “Some people don’t like reminders, and some people are possessive over them. You were worried about Dabi earlier, and I’m just - yanno, letting you know. He’s not going to give a fuck about any clawmarks you leave behind. And I’m - well, I’ll fucking mind them, but not in a way that’s negative, yanno?” His fingers dance, gaze dropping to watch them pet along green scales. Brow quirking just a little as he watches the other shiver. “We’re friends. I don’t want you to feel fucking weird after it if you see anything that reminds you of it. Or if I look - pained later. So, if you ain’t into me being - a bragging bitch - don’t leave any evidence in showy places. I on’y ask that you don’t fucking murder me. Snuff isn’t my thing and I have an - aversion to death.”

Shuichi is - soft. Something made obvious by his touch, the hesitation in his speech, and Reggie feels immediate kinship to it, the insecurities he shows as he asks what should ordinarily be an innocent question. Kisses being something natural, and normal - unless of course you had a mug like his.

“don’t just stand there staring, honey.”  striding too fast, too close.  any and all concepts of PERSONAL SPACE tossed clean / clear out the window.  gloved hands catching the other’s hips as pink LED ‘ X X ’s stared back at custom emojis.  “try to move your feet.”  instruction purred as hips shifted hard right, then rolled slow. “nice and easy …”  afterall, if they were going to go to the club for information?  he’d need to at least pretend like he fit in — .

@urfutureuwu​​ ( wrench ) gets a lyric starter tormented

The world has changed a lot for one (1) unfortunately lanky white boy self-titled ‘The Wrench.’ From side alley hustles to miscellaneous contracts, from miscellaneous contracts to DedSec jobs, from those to straight up being a valued member of DedSec San Francisco, a lot of things have changed for him. His contact list, having once been empty, is now full of all kinds of hackers, from the elite to the script kiddies who needed constant advice, from fixers to straight up murderers. Things have changed for DedSec’s resident The Wrench in the Works.

Things, however, have also not changed for Wrench. For instance, his inability to to communicate to people he found attractive - oh and his blatant inability to dance. A high pitched and nervous laugh escaping him as his companion moves deep into his personal space (something he ordinarily didn’t mind), and grabs his hips (something he, well, he didn’t mind but -) and then -

     Lone gray eye tilts up to glance at his company, studying him over the pages of his novel with a quirked brow. Kakashi could feel a kinship with anyone who covered their face in public, though the studded and digital face staring back at him was… unique. “What better way to spend the evening than with a cold beverage and a written masterpiece?” He’d forgotten to stock his fridge again; to the pub it was. His eye glances back down to the page where he had left off, “I was just about to get to the good part.”

“It’s a job, jackass.” 

shit jordi says: watch dogs legion edition  /  accepting

Wrench wishes he could say it was awkward to adjust to. Not just picking up and wearing his old face again, but Jay’s reappearance, his existence at his side. They’re older now, far different than they had been before. Wrench has been married (and subsequently divorced). He’s lost his business and his life. His work. His ability to trust. And Jay had - well, Jay had done whatever the fuck he had done, Wrench didn’t know what other than the obvious - gotten a job as a fixer and apparently worked with Dedsec. Point was, they were different, it shouldn’t be easy to fall back into each other’s spaces. They still shouldn’t fit together like pieces of different puzzles, snug, with every tab and nook or whatever-the-fuck they were called fitting all tidy together. 

They shouldn’t. It went against nature that they would. But they do. And every day he has to live with that. The knowledge that the world around them had changed, that they had changed, and yet - absolutely fucking nothing had changed at all.

A fact proven by his immediate response to the almost snap by the other - voice changing in pitch, going higher than it has any right to be as he outright mocks the other. “It’s a job, jackass.” The mocking repeat of phrasing followed too soon after by a jerk of his head - as if he were trying to escape a hit before it was thrown. Knowing well by now that, while some things changed, other things did not, and Jay having lived the life of a fucking fixer had probably on exacerbated his tendency for violence. And, well, if that reasoning wasn’t enough for him to resort to blows, his apparent hatred of Wrench would definitely have. 

i just want to send out a special thank you to everyone that, upon the passing of anne rice, decided to immediately pick up her characters. she will be rolling in her grave, and i thank you for that.

“ CAREFUL. WOULDN’T WANT THEM TO BREAK OFF THAT LITTLE PRICK OF YOURS. ” The question does manage to pull a snort from his throat. “ Stick to the hacking, pal. ”