#so many errors were made in the construction of this fucking thing. I have seen it maybe thrice at this point and it has not grown on me
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the amount of time I spend on tumblr dot com has given me quite the set of standards when it comes to artworks on the theme of 'Trans Angel', and actual museums are failing to meet those standards quite spectacularly.
#news from the cupola#if you don't want to hear a lot of inane whining stop reading this post Here.#today once again I saw this particular sculpture entitled exactly that. it is the most unpleasant thing I have ever beheld.#it is relevant that it is a sculpture about the transamerica pyramid and not about Transgender things. but I do keep forgetting that.#so many errors were made in the construction of this fucking thing. I have seen it maybe thrice at this point and it has not grown on me#in the slightest. and I know that the conversation about Good Art and what makes Good Art is certainly fraught.#but by my lights whatever this is this isn't good art#maybe it's partially that this thing is displayed among some really wild examples of Just What Can Be Done With Clay#it's surrounded by hundreds of years' worth of technical mastery and it fails to be anything of note except bad to see!#clunky sculpting! ugly glazing! forms that are difficult to parse but also not very interesting once you do see them!#and why in the goddamn does it have the twitter logo sculpted all over it. what is Happening.#everything else by this artist in this exhibit is also not great in similar ways?#it's not even bad in a way that's interesting! it's just. not good!#it all feels like they're trying far too hard to make Art That Means Something and missing by a mile#also. no one calls the transamerica pyramid that. You Say The Whole Name. or you just point at it and say 'that one'
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Caught in the Act (Becca x MC)
My first smut fic you guys!! I’m very new in the tumblr/writing community so I’d really appreciate feedback/constructive criticism. Also, English is not my first language so forgive me for any grammatical errors. Hope you enjoy and if not, thanks for reading anyways :))
P.S. Should I do a part 2??
Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)
Word Count: 2300
Warning: Smut and some swearing
A/N: In this scenario, Becca and MC didn’t hook up during freshman year.
You were just about to leave when James stopped you with a book in his hand. "Can you give this to Becca? She left it in class this morning." You placed the book in your bag and bid James goodbye.
***
When you arrived home, you remembered that Zack, Kaitlyn, and Chris will be out late tonight. "I wonder if Becca's home," you mumbled to yourself. You grabbed Becca's book from your bag and proceeded to walk to her room. As you near her room, you noticed that her door is slightly ajar. You heard a whisper of your name coming from behind the door, barely audible that you weren't sure if you heard it right. Curiosity got the best of you, and you slowly crept towards the opening, your eyes widening at the sight in front of you. Becca is lying in bed in her underwear with one hand under her brassiere and the other underneath her panties, her hips slightly hunched upwards. When she noticed you at the door, her eyes widened but before she could say anything, you shouted, "sorry!" as you darted to your room. As soon as the door is shut, you pressed your back against the door, heart beating out of your chest as you processed what you just saw.
***
Hours go by as you contemplated going out of your room to have dinner. After you had mustered enough courage, you crept towards the kitchen, hoping and praying that you won't run into Becca.
As you were about to eat, you heard faint footsteps coming down the stairs and a few seconds later, Becca comes into view. When your gazes met, she quickly looked away, seemingly frozen in place. She looked as if she was contemplating if she'd rather starve than face the embarrassment of the earlier encounter. As she started heading back upstairs, you lamely said, "wait! I made dinner and... uhh.... eat with me?"
Becca slowly turned around, her eyes still not meeting yours. After what felt like forever, Becca finally decided to join you. You both ate in incredibly uncomfortable silence which you tried to alleviate by making small talk. "So... how's your day?"
"It's... okay," Becca said awkwardly, stabbing at her food.
You winced at her response. The Becca you knew would have already made a sassy remark about some girl's mismatched outfit or how some creep had tried to ask her out or anything that had annoyed her really, which is, to say the least, a lot. Ever since her fall out with her father and friends, you became the primary receiving end of her rants and annoyances, which you don't mind at all, as long as you're not the source. In fact, your playful banter with the blonde is something you had grown to look forward to. However, the recent encounter might temporarily halt your daily ritual, and the thought didn't sit well with you. She shouldn't be embarrassed, really. It's normal. You do it too. Not that you'll ever say that.
As the silence that followed grew and became deafening, you scrambled to say something, anything. "You left a book in your class earlier, and James asked me to give it back. That's why I was..." you trailed off. Really? You couldn't think of anything better to say?
Thankfully, Becca said, "so, where are the dorks?" successfully changing the subject.
"Kaitlyn has practice, Chris is hanging out with the team, and Zack said he was sleeping over at Grant's tonight."
"Right."
"Do you wanna watch a movie later?" you blurted out. Maybe if you hung out and talked about other things you could both forget about what happened.
"... what?"
"A movie... there's this movie I wanna watch and... I mean only if you're not doing anything." You held your breath as you prepared for the impending rejection.
But then Becca said, "sure, why not."
After you finished cleaning up, Becca settled on the couch as you prepared the snacks. "Do you want some wine?" you called out.
"Uh-huh," Becca answered absentmindedly while scrolling on her phone.
You sat on the couch beside Becca, handing her a glass of wine, and pressed play. You tried to focus on the movie, but your mind kept drifting back to a certain sight much more captivating, a sight that left you hot and bothered ever since. It didn't help that beside you was Becca, wearing a tank top and a tight skirt that hugged her curves in all the right places. You've always known how hot Becca was but you've never allowed yourself to think of her that way. After all, fantasizing about someone who had clearly despised you would only end up badly. But seeing her touch herself, whispering your name... no, not your name. You must've misheard, right? Right. There's no way she thought of you like that.
You didn't realize how much you've been drinking until Becca grabbed the bottle from your hand and said, "quit hogging all the wine."
Halfway through the movie and bottle of wine, you and Becca became more comfortable, exchanging commentaries about the movie, the earlier event seemingly forgotten. Except that you haven't forgotten and, frankly, you didn't want to forget.
"So, you're saying that he's potentially the most intelligent being, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Doesn't look intelligent to me. I mean he could've just wiped out all the assholes and we'd be in fucking paradise. Not to mention, people were half as many before, and it wasn't really a better time then, was it. The number of people isn't the problem here nor the lack of resources."
You raised your eyebrow at Becca. You have never seen her so riled up at a superhero movie before. No, you haven't seen her so riled up at anything but America's Most Eligible before. "Okay then, Aristotle, what do you think the problem is?"
"It's the selfish, rich assholes being selfish, rich assholes, duh."
You couldn't help but laugh. "Like you weren't once a selfish, rich asshole."
"Once? Are you saying that now I'm a selfless, humble angel?" Becca mused, sporting a dazzling smile.
"No, I'm saying that now you're just an asshole. I'm definitely the selfless, humble angel." And then you both burst out laughing.
As your laughter died down, Becca scooted closer to you and rested her head on your shoulder, the sudden move of affection rendering you frozen. You didn't know what was more intoxicating, the alcohol or Becca's perfume. After a brief deliberation, you reciprocated the gesture by leaning your head on top of hers.
"So, tell me, if you had any superpowers, what would it be?" you asked.
"I'd like to be able to fly. When I was a kid, I'd see Lily flying and imagined I was flying beside her."
"Okay. Where will we go?"
"We?"
"You're not leaving me behind, are you?
"Of course I am. You'll just drag me down." You raised your head, shooting Becca a playful scowl.
Becca rolled her eyes. "Ugh, fine. You could be my sidekick."
You shifted closer to Becca as her head nuzzled against your neck. "What crimes would we be fighting?"
"Crimes of fashion, of course."
"Like you didn't commit one when you had those awful bangs," you teased.
"Careful, Emily. We're gonna be a thousand feet in the air. We wouldn't want someone to accidentally fall, would we?"
You chuckled. "Like you would do that."
"Oh, you don't think I can?"
"Come on, Becca. We both know you'd be lost without me."
After several beats of silence, Becca lifted her head to face you, her face serious all of a sudden. "You're right. I would be." The air in the room immediately shifted as she proceeded to caress your face, her touch sending your senses into overdrive. Her fingers trailed down to your lips, and your breath hitched from anticipation. "Becca, I-" Before you could finish, Becca pressed her lips against yours, muffling your next words. The kiss was slow and sweet at first but quickly became more fervent as you pulled her onto your lap with one of your hands at the small of her back and the other behind her head. Becca looped her legs around your waist as she ran her fingers through your hair, flicking her tongue against yours in a hot, open-mouthed kiss. When you pulled apart for air, you trailed kisses down to her neck and nipped gently, eliciting a moan from Becca. Becca then placed her hand under your shirt as she pulled her body closer to yours, the space between you two becoming nonexistent.
"Emily," Becca groaned, her voice a hoarse whisper. Becca saying your name is nothing new. In fact, you have heard her say it in anger, annoyance, disgust, tears (not your fault), laughter, more annoyance, but never in a million years have you expected to hear her say your name with so much want and desire; it was utter music to your ears. She was now grinding against your lap, her wetness seeping through the fabric of her panties matching your own wetness. You pulled her in for another kiss, roughly gripping her hips as she continued to grind against you.
"Should we move this to the bedroom?" you panted between kisses.
Becca unhooked her legs from your waist and planted her knees on both sides of the couch, hastily removing her top and then helping you out of yours. I guess that's a no then. The thought of someone walking in on you ravishing each other naked both thrilling and terrifying, fueling your arousal.
You pulled Becca in for another kiss, your hand darting to the hook of her bra and expertly unclasping it in one swift motion. She attempted to do yours but you leaned hard against the couch, blocking her efforts, earning you a frown. "In a while, Becs. I just wanna see you first."
Becca pulled back from you, giving you a better view of her body. You reached out and slowly pulled down the straps of her bra, your fingers grazing her skin as your eyes locked with hers in a heated gaze. As you finished removing her bra, your eyes were greeted by a breathtaking sight, knocking you speechless. Sitting on you is a freaking goddess.
Becca smirked down at you as if pleased by your reaction. "As much as I want for you to ogle me all night, I believe it's my turn."
She leaned towards you and practically ripped your bra off. She then took a moment to appraise your body as her lips curled into a smile. "I can't believe you've been hiding this from me."
"I didn't really have a reason to be naked around you, did I?"
She raised her mouth towards your ear and sultrily whispered, "Well, now you do. And I'm gonna enjoy every. single. inch," before sucking a sensitive part behind your ear, and you swore you came just a little bit then. Overcome with desire, you placed your hands underneath Becca's skirt, grabbing her perfectly sculpted ass as you hoisted her up further, making her yelp as she staggered upward, her hands now gripping the top of the backrest with her breasts directly in front of you. Having better access, you brought one of your hands to her front, only a thin fabric separating you from her.
"You're so wet, Becs," you murmured as you started rubbing against the drenched underwear.
"Ohhh... god... Emily," Becca whimpered, her hips moving against your fingers to gain more friction.
"Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it," you softly uttered as you brought your other hand to her breast, softly massaging it while your nose teased the hardened nipple on her other breast.
"Touch me. Fuck me... oh, please. Fuck me hard," Becca begged.
You swept Becca's panties to the side and inserted two fingers with ease, pumping them slowly, exploring her walls, her crevices, her depth, then gradually increasing the tempo as your mouth latched to her nipple, sucking greedily at the swollen tit.
"Ohhh fuck... yes... there... that's it.... ohhh that feels so good."
You slowed your fingers down a bit as you added a third finger, stretching her further, thumb pressed firmly against her clit. Becca was now gripping your hair tightly, pushing her breast further into your mouth as your tongue flicked vigorously against her nipple. Her other nipple was attended by your thumb and index finger, pinching and rolling roughly - the pain indistinguishable from pleasure.
Becca had now lost all inhibition to keep silent; her moans echoed throughout the house while she rode your fingers in wild abandonment. She was basically screaming as you quickened the thrusts, her body struggling to keep up with the pace.
"Emily... Oh god... I'm about to..."
You redoubled your efforts, wanting to give the blonde her release. After a few more thrusts, Becca exploded, crying out in pure, carnal pleasure as your pumps slowed down, riding the waves of her orgasm. After you finally withdrew your fingers, Becca collapsed to your lap, her head slumped on your shoulder as you held her in an embrace. You gently kissed the back of her head as you lovingly caressed her back. After a moment of recuperation, Becca finally lifted her head and gave you a long, sweet kiss. When you pulled apart from the kiss, your foreheads are touching and your eyes closed. You stayed like that for a while as you breathed in each other's presence. When Becca leaned back, her smile was mischievous, her gaze playful. "Now that that's over with, shall we move on to the main event?"
"Main event?" you asked, cocking your head in confusion.
"You didn't think you'd get away unpunished, did you?"
Read Part 2
#the freshman#the freshmen series#the sophomore#the junior#the senior#becca#becca davenport#rebecca davenport#becca x mc#choices#playchoices#play choices#my fanfics#my writing#my work
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Train of Thought...
Part:1 Getting Caught
Master 👉Next
Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader, Miya Atsumux Reader.
Character: Gender Neutral! or I want to everyone to feel comfortable so any pronouns welcomed for this story.
Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Some angst and colorful language, mentions of cheating and getting caught in the action, mentions of also thinking to forgive unfaithful partner, some grammar errors 😅 ( I need to emphasize this by saying that English is not my first language and although my English is great I still have a lot of trouble so constructive criticism is welcomed 🥰)
Word Count: 2k
Released date: January 19th 2021
I feel like I need to emphasize that all of the characters in this story are aged up! I’m not comfortable with talking about sexual topics if the characters are still in high school and are underage so,this is a timeskip!😅
Before we go any further into the story, I plan to post part 2 of this! Part 2 will take me a bit longer to post due to personal matters but it will be posted!
Enjoy my first ever Haikyuu x Reader Fic!!!
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You’ve been working late into the night for the past few months so he must’ve thought that this would be your same routine from your previous nights. He's always been a careful person. He knows you have your location on. He always knows where you are but not just for your safety but to also bring her over.
He knows this is wrong. He loves you and knows he could've talked to you about maybe spending less time at work and maybe make a bit more time for him. Atsumu knows that your work is important and he's not gonna take advantage of you like that, especially when you come home from work tired, and with his volleyball schedule and his career you guys barely got to spend time with each other.
He wants to stop this but his need never stops. He knows what he has with her is just something done out of lust and that’s it. Atsumu only wants her around just to make his cock feel good and that’s it. He's already made it very clear he does not plan to leave you and to not get any crazy ideas.
He thought that tonight would be just like any other. He couldn’t have known that you were on your way home. He couldn’t have possibly remembered that today of all days was the release day of your book that you've put months of work into. Who knew that by mistake you left your phone at the office. All he knew at that moment was that your best friend's pussy takes him so well.
As you were driving your way home all you could think about is to hug your husband and yell to the world that you've finally finished your first written work! You felt such accomplishment that this book that you've put all your heart, sweat, and tears into was finally released! So many people believed in your dream but you felt you really couldn’t have done it without the love and support from your husband.
There have been many times where you felt like you haven't been given Atsumu much attention. You've been working long hours and at times late into the night to get this book out before the deadline you've been given. All those hours of hard work you felt paid off, now all that’s left to do is celebrate and who to celebrate better than your husband. After all, he's the inspiration behind your book.
You get out of your car making your way towards the entrance of your house. You notice a car that you've seen before but you can't remember where, so you just brush it off and make your way to the door. As you're unlocking the main entrance door, you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. The house is dark and there's no one in the living area, I mean what did you expect its one in the morning. You were going about your routine trying to not wake Atsumu up when you hear some strange noises coming from your shared master.
As you're approaching the hallway that leads to your room, you've noticed the noises are starting to sound a lot more like sexual moans. Your first thought would've been that Atsumu might've fallen asleep while watching porn, and you'd believe that. But these moans sounded too real to be coming from the tv in your shared bedroom. You can see from the small gap underneath the door that the lights are still on.
You're getting ready to enter your room when you notice that the door is slightly open. If only someone were to prepare you for what you were about to see. As you enter the room you see what no woman ever wants to go through. Your husband Atsumu on top of another woman.
"I can never see myself with anyone that wasn’t my husband," you said.
Who would’ve thought that my marriage was falling apart… not me right?
Have I been so oblivious this whole time?
How long has this been going on? The question I proceeded to ask myself...
How did I not see this coming?
But now that you saw everything with your own eyes, you realized you’ve put all the pieces to a puzzle you didn’t even know you were solving.
Today was publishing day and you were gonna surprise Tsumu by coming home after the book release, you would have called but your phone may have been misplaced somewhere in your office. You didn’t have time to go back to the office, you’ve been missing Tsumu a lot. But the surprise you got when you entered your shared bedroom and watched as your husband was on top of another woman was not something you ever expected to happen.
As you stood there watching your husband fuck another woman and not just any woman but your best friend all you could think about was, Atsumu the man that promised to be with you for the rest of your life was in your bed fucking your best friend. You want to be angry, you want to run and scream at them, you want to ask why they did it. Not that any explanation would fix anything, you just couldn’t say anything. As you stood there for what felt like a lifetime. Did you lose your train of thought? Did you forget how to talk?
He finally notices that you’ve been standing there. He panics and gets off your best friend as he tries making his way towards you. All you could think to do at that moment was to just close the door and run out of the house towards your car and make your way out of there. You started driving with no destination in mind, you just wanted to be anywhere away from this bomb. As you're driving, you end up taking the route that leads you to Akaashi’s place. You get out of the car and make your way towards his door.
It’s like you came here out of instinct.
How can you not when you guys have been working on this project for the past several months. He’s a great editor and a great friend too! He appreciates your hard work! You remember when you told him that you wanted to give writing another try and had an idea for a book he immediately offered his services as an editor. He’s always offered his help to you. Even goes out of his way to help you research some titles or genres that you could find interest in writing. He’s a great guy and you’ve grown very close to him.
Now you’re at Keijis place late in the hours of the night. You decided that you couldn’t do this by yourself so you knock on his door.
“Y/N are you alright, What are you doing out so late?” He asks.
You shake your head no. How were you gonna tell Akaashi your world was falling apart. He’s your editor, he shouldn’t need to know that your husband just cheated on you with your best friend.
“Would you like to come in? We can talk about whatever is troubling you?”
He doesn’t give you a second to answer before he grabs your hand and guides you to the living room. He has you sit on his sofa while he makes you both some tea. Some time has passed since you arrived at Akaashi’s, you’re telling him everything that happened an hour prior to being there. Akaashi is tracing small circles on your back. He tells you that this wasn’t your fault and you're not one to blame here and that
“Hey Y/N?”
“Did you say something Keiji?” Y/N says looking up from his shoulder. He can tell they’ve been crying. Akaashi hated seeing them like this. These past several months, he got to know Y/N as a very kind and goal-minded person. He saw someone who only strived to make her and other’s visions come to reality. The months Akaashi spent with Y/N were by far the best few months of his life. He would never tell Y/N that.t He hates that the book is done because now they won’t get to spend as much time together as they used to.
The months he’s been with her he got to spend a lot of time getting to know her world. He observed the way she would get when she had writer’s block. The number of times he’s watched her get frustrated at how she didn’t like the ending of a chapter for the book. He saw how countless nights she felt helpless and wanted to quit. She would fall into a negative state where she convinced herself she wasn’t a good writer. He also saw the nights where she would vent to him about Atsumu becoming distant once again. NIghts where they would drown themselves with work just so they didn’t think about crying.
He saw all of that.
Nights where y/n needed Atsumu.
Late nights where he was fucking his wife’s best friend.
“What’s your next move?” Akaashi asked.
“I think the best thing right now is for me to go home and get an explanation”
Your expression is giving regret all over it. How were you gonna go back home and look Atsumu in the face? What more could he explain that you don’t already know? You keep going back and forth between blaming yourself more than blaming him. You want to put this in your head as if it was your fault. But you know deep down that if Atsumu really loves you like he says he does he wouldn’t have cheated. At the end of the day, he cheated on you, not the other way around.
“I think I'm gonna call Yachi and see if she’s okay with me spending a few nights at her place just until I figure out what I’m gonna do. In the meantime, I gotta get back home.”
You sigh, you're getting ready to get up when Akaashi takes a hold of your hand
“Wait Before you go, I have a suggestion for tonight if you’d like to hear”
Akaashi doesn’t want you going alone but he also feels as if he’s overstepping his boundaries. He knows this is none of his business but why does he feel like it is?
“How about we go get some of your things and you spend the night here?”
It was a nice offer from Keiji, but you already feel like a burden. He’s been so kind as to listen to you, you just don’t wanna cause him any more trouble.
“ I appreciate the offer Keiji but I don’t wanna wrap you up in my troubles.”
“ Y/N you’re no trouble, I just want you to know that you’re more than welcomed to stay here.” Akaashi knew you’d reject his invitation. He knows you’re not the type of person to rely on others' help, you’re a giver not a taker after all.
“Can you promise me if you don’t wanna be there with Atsumu you’ll call me and come here?” Akaashi the overthinker, always worrying about others.
“ I promise I’ll call you Keiji, if anything happens I promise to come back here.” The answer appeases him, he lets your hand go.
“Thank you Y/N Can I walk you out?” You nod and make your way towards the entrance door.
“Thank you for having me over at this time of night..” before you could finish your sentence, you were pulled into Akaashi’s arms.
“You don’t have to thank me Y/N, I’m glad you trust me enough to open up about what happened.”
You don’t know why but his words are making you feel safe. You trust Keiji, he’s not the type of guy to hurt anybody.
You thank Akaashi again as he walks you to your car “ Can I check on you tomorrow?”
You reply with a nod “ See you tomorrow Keiji.”
Both of you say your goodbyes. As you’re leaving Akaashi’s house, you can’t help but feel nervous about the conversation you were about to have with your husband. What was gonna happen with your marriage? Can this be forgiven? Questions that kept plaguing your head. Only one question stuck out more than the others…
Do I wanna divorce Atsumu?
Summary:
L/N F/N a young adult working on their first ever book with the help of editor and friend (Akaashi). Discovers that their husband has been cheating on them for the past few months that they’ve been working nonstop. Heartbroken y/n decides to drown herself in their work. Will they be able to Forgive their cheating husband from his infidelity or will they approach the man who fell in love with them while working on their book?
© All fiction rights of the story belong to @nintendousimp
Characters belong to the Haruichi Furudate.
#haikyuu#akaashixreader#akaashi fanfiction#atsumu x reader#atsumu x female reader#atsumu angst#haikyuu fic#akaashi angst
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Humans Adopt a Combat SecUnit
A random one-shot about a horrible moment during a hypothetical hostile takeover. A one-shot with no real ending. Angst. You’ve been warned.
Now on AO3 for the same reason I put anything there, because finding it here is rocket surgery.
(Cass)
The attack came out of nowhere.
One minute, Kris and I had been sitting at a cafe and discussing the logistics of our next cargo run and the next, several dozen armed men stormed the office building across the street.
Mayhem erupted around us. Cafe patrols tried to flee only to meet the business end of large guns. Several constructs in heavy armor stomped past us and up the building steps. A grenade destroyed the front entrance entire, flinging dust and smoke into the air. The air circulation systems struggled to keep up. It was getting harder to breathe with each passing moment.
Suddenly, a group of soldiers rushed out of the building, through smoke and frames and began indiscriminately shooting at attackers and civilians alike. Kris yanked me by the arm to hide under our table, but it proved to be minimal cover against the hail of bullets flying overhead.
What ended up saving both our lives was a SecUnit, one of the combat-ready models. It took a defensive position between us and the battle, and remained there until the shooting had largely ceased. At the time, I didn’t know why it had chosen that course of action because it was so damn unexpected.
Security Units sometimes protect people — when they’re contracted to do so — but the Combat Units are intended for only one thing: taking down enemies. This one stood in front of us and took more damage than was reasonable. By the time the worst had passed, the bot-human hybrid looked worse for the wear. Its armor was dented in a dozen places, and it was bleeding from several projectile wounds. It had also gotten burned in several areas with short-range energy blasts.
“We have to go,” Kris practically yelled in my ear over all the noise. “This is insane. Hostile takeovers shouldn’t target civilian places.”
I nodded and tried not to think about the wanton death and destruction happening fifteen feet away. “What about the Unit?”
My companion gave me a searching look. “I don’t know that we can do anything. It probably has orders.”
“SecUnit,” I called out to the tall construct. It wore armor from head to toe, but enough of it was destroyed that I could see metal and light-brown skin underneath.
It turned in our direction. Its helmet was still functional but the opaque faceplate had shattered at some point. Blue-green eyes regarded us from a blank, neutral face that betrayed none of the pain the construct had be feeling.
“Come with us,” I said as I crawled out from under the table and looked around.
“What?” Kris looked horrified.
I ignored my co-pilot for a moment. “SecUnit, your armor is destroyed. You should remove it before it causes you damage.”
The horror of the situation was seeping in by then, panic replacing the initial numbness. Kris had been in war zones before, had even participated in several takeovers, before making hauling his current profession. I imagined he knew what he was doing.
All I knew is that we needed to leave and it was imperative we take the person who just saved our lives with us. The SecUnit pulled off its armor — some of which had all kinds of razor sharp edges curtesy of all the shooting — and underneath it looked a lot more like a human being than I’d anticipated.
Not that I had much experience in this area; I’d never seen a construct up close before.
Kris tugged at my arm and started moving along the edge of the coffee shop toward an alley. I resisted until the SecUnit followed a moment later.
Somehow, all three of us managed to make it to the mouth of the alleyway without further injuries. I was coughing up a lung because of all the smoke — the air scrubbers could handle a lot, but this was ridiculous. Kris knew what to do, though, I trusted him with my life.
--
(Combat SecUnit)
I had failed at achieving my mission objectives, and I could no longer connect to my handler.
The two events had not been simultaneous, but the quick succession was enough to feel concerning. My organic neural tissue was sending up error codes I couldn't interpret.
I chose my position primarily to get a better vantage point on the small-scale skirmish occurring in front of the ShoreCross office building. Infiltrating the facility was my primary objective, but it no longer appeared to be feasible, much less applicable.
When the shooting began, I considered moving. Even without a handler to direct me, I have enough self-preservation instincts to not stand in direct line of fire. But there were two unaffiliated humans behind me, and if I moved, they would die.
My handler should've made the judgment call about staying or leaving. Those kinds of choices were outside my permissible range of decisions, but she was not responding. My communication device was otherwise functional, and the feed remained stable in the area despite the commotion. Her presence was completely absent in its normal places inside my head, and it did not appear to be a malfunction on my part.
When the shooting briefly paused, the two humans made a smart but risky decision to evacuate. My own assessment supported this course of action. I had taken more damage than advisable, and while none of it was catastrophic, I would need access to a repair cubicle for most of the injuries.
So, the human's instruction to remove my destroyed armor came as a complete surprise. Her further request that I come with them, even more so. My governor didn't much care who gave the orders so long as it was a direct request. It was completely up to my handler to override irrelevant commands and choose who to ignore.
When the humans moved, I followed them after discarding what little remained of my armor. I had a large projectile weapon, which I also left behind because I had no way of storing it and moving with it was cumbersome. My in-built weapons would suffice should I find myself in a firefight, and if that happened, I was unlikely to survive the experience.
The male human (feed name: Kristos) led the way. He paused when we reached a small alleyway and peeked inside. It was empty. I knew as much because I had hacked the local feed before arrival, a necessary measure to ensure I wouldn't be caught or surprised.
"Are you all right?" the female human (feed name: Cass) asked me.
I nodded. As best as I understood the question, I was not experiencing any significant malfunctions and my pain sensors were down in the 50% range, so I was not in any significant pain, either.
"Good," she said, and then reached out and took my hand. "Stay close. We'll cut through here and then head straight to the transit ring. The safest place we can be right now is on a ship. Ours, specifically."
I obeyed the command and followed them closely, but my threat assessment did not like this course of action. The humans would indeed be safer on their ship. Weapons could not be discharged anywhere on the transit ring. However, without my handler, my own mental state would deteriorate rapidly. I should be nowhere near any humans when this occurred.
Unfortunately, communicating this to the humans was complicated. There are very few things I'm permitted to say. I was willing to risk governor punishment but couldn't come up with a short enough explanation that I could provide it before being zapped.
This unit is not constructed to function independently of a human handler, I told them. That was a response in my buffer, usually reserved for when someone attempted to a request that required too many decision points.
Cass turned to look at me, her expression grim. "Is your handler somewhere close? Are you able to return to them?"
Unknown, I answered. It was not the most polite response, and my governor quickly reminded me of the error, but it was almost more than I could manage.
Kris spoke several curses in three distinct languages under his breath in quick succession. "That's why you were standing there, wasn't it? Fucking hell. This complicates things. Just keep following us for now, and we'll figure something out."
Turning to his companion, he added, "It's a Combat model. Its mental state is dependent on the constant tweaking and monitoring of its human handler. Without a handler, it's going to go crazy."
"What?" Cass glanced at me but her focus was on Kris. "Why the fuck would someone do that?"
"Because when you make a dangerous tool, you put in a lot of safeguards to keep it from slipping its leash." The human stopped just long enough to make sure our path was clear, then continued moving. "There's a reason most polities don't permit the use or creation of constructs."
The horrified expression on Cass' face surprised me. Most humans I had met feared constructs, and her behavior didn't line up with my expectations.
"Almost there," the woman told me as we exited the station mall and headed down to the embarkation zone. "Just a little longer."
---
(Combat SecUnit)
The humans walked with me through the embarkation zone as though it was a perfectly normal course of action. I knew from experience that SecUnits were not permitted in the human-occupied areas of most stations, but I suspected neither Cass nor Kris knew this. A weapons scanner drone stopped us near their ship's loading dock, but Kris explained that I was their cargo, and a human supervisor overrode the panicky drone.
Once inside the ship, both humans visibly relaxed.
Cass led the way to the control room of the ship and guided me toward an empty seat. I stood next to it until she gave me a direct order to sit down. Meanwhile, Kris directed one of the local news channels from the feed to a large display surface mounted to one of the walls of the bridge. Coverage of the 'unprovoked' attack on ShoreCross played in the background while the humans coordinated their next step in preparation for departure.
I continued to sit while my internal world slowly crumbled. When it became hard to name the humans or distinguish my current position, I said, It may be prudent to secure this unit before it malfunctions further. I had never used this buffer message before, but it was the closest to what I wanted to communicate. Emotional and mental cohesion, both of which were necessary to successfully complete mission, frayed around the edges.
Kris glanced up at me from where he was leaning over a control panel and reading information off to the local traffic controller. "Best to do what it says for now."
"I've almost got this figured out," Cass complained. "Shit, I think I'm the only one with enough augments of the right type to even attempt this. I know it's not your fault, SecUnit, but your humans really did a number on you."
She got up from where she'd been seated on the floor, connected directly into the mechanical brain of the hauler, and came over to me. "Let's get you comfortable, all right?"
"It might fight you if it thinks its cornered and it can't think straight," the co-pilot warned.
I looked up at the human. She wore a deep frown on her soft, dark face as she inputted commands into the controls of the smart chair where I was currently sitting. It readjusted to fit my longer frame, suggesting that normally Kris sat here. Cass maneuvered me into position, so I leaning back with my feet slightly off the floor and situated comfortably in the seat's foot rests.
Once she had me where she wanted me, the chair did the rest automatically. Thick, durable straps wrapped around my arms, torso, and legs effectively restraining me. According to the specifications available in the feed, the system was intended to keep a human from falling out of the piloting chair during high-impact maneuvers. It was more than strong enough to keep me from hurting myself or the humans.
Despite knowing better, I fought against the restraints. I understood that doing so would cause me further injury and that they existed to keep my humans — I thought of these humans as mine — safe. But there was a disconnect between reality and my fractured mind that I couldn't seem to bridge.
Cass put her hand on my chest and started talking in a soft, quiet voice. By this point, I had trouble understanding what she was saying, but the hand helped. As did the warm blanket she draped over me and the pillow under my head. Consciousness came and went.
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I want to tell the world I love you
This was prompted by a wonderful anon! Enjoy! It is very angst but it has a happy ending, don’t worry!
Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900
(Warnings: Overprotectiveness, panic attack, internalised homophobia (+struggle to overcome it))
It was a slow day at the precinct and Gavin hated it. Sure it was nice not having to work every single second of your shift and still leave something for the next day, but the opposite wasn’t that nice either. He spent his day resisting the temptation to play on his phone, looked over his reports to find errors or change a sentence to better convey the message. He filed the pictures he had taken for evidence. He watered the lone cactus on his desk. He got himself a coffee. He watched Nines, who caught his drift and smiled back. That had made it a bit better, but still frustration and boredom settled in. He just wanted something to do or go home and the more he looked around the precinct aimlessly, the more random things annoyed him. The way he could hear Chris’ nose whistle barely audible, but being unable to not focus on that now that he caught on. The way Tina brushed through her hair the fifth time in a minute. The ringing of somebodies telephone for at least two rings too many… Gavin knew it himself, this was one of the days he would randomly explode on people again. And that made him even angrier.
‘Phhhck’, he sighed silently to himself and massaged his temples trying to force himself to relax. But the tension stayed and the frustration continued to nibble at him and he was seconds away from screaming at someone, something, anything to make it stop and have something to work on.
And apparently the universe had decided to throw Connor his way. Gavin looked up if only in the hope that the change would mean the bot got something for them, but the RK800 didn’t even look at him walking straight up to Nines and banging his hands on his table. Nines looked at them, then at Connor and turned in his rolling chair.
‘Is it true?’, Connor asked. Nines looked at him questioning. That one sleek brow lifted over stern eyes.
‘You’, Connor jerked his head in Gavin’s general direction. ‘and him?’
‘What?’ Nines was now sitting ram-rod straight, glancing over to Gavin, who had simply froze for lack of better word. ‘Err… What do you mean? Con, I-‘
But Connor wasn’t taking it, stepping beside the table and grabbing Nines wrist, pulling his hand from the keyboard in the process. Gavin reeled back as he saw Nines’ LED dip to red and stay there while his skin was pushed away from where Connor’s hand connected.
A forced interface. Gavin knew what he was seeing, Nines had done this a few times with unresponsive androids. The way the other’s skin didn’t retract but was forcefully shoved aside. This… This wasn’t right, Connor had no right to do this and Nines wouldn’t allow him-
‘So it is true!’ Seldomly had Connor been this loud or angry. ‘You and this wretched human! This robophobic piece of shit, who held me at gunpoint twice and punched me on the first day? Really? Did you forget how he treated you? Did you?’
‘Connor, I-‘
‘What are you two doing, hmm?’ Connor leaned forwards and his grip on Nines was like a vice. His face went blank. ‘So you two are already fucking? Nines, I can’t believe it. How on earth could you let him use you like that? Do you think he loves you? Nines, he is playing with you, can’t you see that? There is no way someone like him will ever change and you should really know better than-‘
Nines didn’t allow him to speak any further. His free hand slapped on top of Connor’s and closed around his hull strong enough to indent it with an ugly crunch. ‘Don’t you dare say that’, he hissed. ‘Don’t you dare say that if you know nothing about us. When was the last time you two spoke a word with each other? When was the last time you re-evaluated your picture of Gav-‘
Right. Gavin. Gavin, who had told him to keep their relationship a secret at all costs. Gavin who had only recently had started showing his emotions, who had taken more than one night spent talking that it was okay to be friends, that it was okay to be more than friends even, that loving a man wasn’t wrong like his family had taught him, that Nines would be there for him and that a slow pace was fine, that… That it was completely fine if their relationship stayed at home, that they didn’t openly show affection and that both of them feeling safe and comfortable was more important than all expectations.
Nines let go of Connor, his priorities changing to see if his partner was alright. But Gavin’s chair was empty. His jacket was hanging over the back of his seat, that had turned as if left in a quick escape. The keys to his bike were gone from their usual spot and Nines didn’t need more information than that to leave his predecessor – because brother really didn’t fit right now – behind and go after his human.
He managed to intercept him on his way out of the parking lot. ‘Gavin!’, he called out. ‘Gavin, please!’
And the man stopped. The engine was still running, gently chugging along without a care in the world, making Nines all the more desperate.
‘Nines.’ His eyes were still wide and unfocussed, it would be irresponsible for Nines to let him drive, but it would be even more detrimental to make him stay. ‘Nines, I-I-I… I can’t.’ His breath was quick and irregular, barely enough to sustain him. He must feel like suffocating right now.
‘Gavin, I didn’t want to. He forced it. I. I would never tell anyone. I promised you!’
‘I know’, Gavin breathed out, his voice nearly drowned out by the engine sounds. ‘I know and I… I trust you still but… I can’t. I can’t take it. I shouldn’t want it, it’s wrong and I… Con is right and…’
‘Breathe’, Nines said calmly despite his own stress. Gavin needed him. And he breathed. ‘We can’t be together’, unfortunately were the next words that left his mouth as he had enough air again to talk. ‘We just can’t. I can’t. I want but I… It’s better that way.’
It is not, Nines wanted to say but didn’t. ‘I love you’, was what he said instead, disappointed, knowing it wouldn’t change anything.
‘I know.’ There were the tears. ‘I… I love you, too. But I can’t. I… You shouldn’t have to wait for me, you deserve someone nice, someone less broken and wrong and-‘
‘Gavin!’ Nines couldn’t help but make him stop. He wouldn’t let him say it. ‘Gavin, you are perfect. You are. Please. Please, I beg you, stay and let’s talk!’
The man looked up at him out of swollen eyes and Nines would never be able to forget the way he looked at him, sad, grieving and worst of all believing everything he had said about himself.
And then he let the engine roar up and drive him away, leaving Nines standing alone in the parking lot.
-
He didn’t know how long he had stayed there. He just remembered eventually walking back inside the building, because really, there was no reason for him to stand there any longer, was there? It’s not like that motorcycle would reappear magically, that Gavin would come back and kiss him like he had so many times at home. Would they ever do that again? He didn’t dare to think such thoughts. No. Work. Work was what he needed. Something to keep him occupied, because if he had a free minute, he would think and thinking lead to ideas and Nines knew they wouldn’t be good at all. No, Nines couldn’t afford himself to be himself right now, else he would likely self-destruct on the spot. No, he went inside, ignored the looks and quiet questions, sat down at their – his - desk and interfaced with his terminal, concentrating on being RK900 only and digging up every unsolved case from their databanks.
The numbness was a blessing. Overworking his processors with wild pre-constructions that would ultimately lead to nothing left no room for Gavin. For his concerns whether he had made it home safely. For stray thoughts imagining him sitting at home alone, crying. Maybe drinking. Maybe worse. No, there were only murders and Red Ice and kidnappings and no end in sight.
So, when Connor approached him and said something it took a while for the message to reach his systems.
‘/’m s0rry-.+’’#..||- I dIdn’t me@n t..-~ I c0uldn’t knw{-=-_.. I sh0uldn’t h@ve. I want t# apologise. Nines please listen to me.’
‘I believe you said enough’, Nines spoke without intonation through heavy static. ‘Really, you can’t imagine-‘ His voicebox cut out and Nines laid all of his anger, sadness and fury into his stare while it restarted. ‘Don’t you dare talk to me like a simple apology could bring you absolution!’
With that he stormed off to the evidence room and locked himself in. This way there would be no further disturbances and he could again dive deep into the systems. Time didn’t matter, it’s not like he had anyone to go home to anymore. Their shift ended, the next had begun and Gavin had called in sick for the next day somewhere around 2 AM. Nines didn’t care. He simply pushed deeper, the clear orderly systems of the precinct a welcoming blanket to wrap his own chaos into.
-
Connor sat on the couch, mindlessly petting Sumo. He had never seen Nines like this. They had argued before. They had yelled at each other. It was normal. But this time something had changed. He had messed up badly. Even Hank ghosted him, telling him to set it right or not, but not to involve him in their fights as he would refuse to pick a side.
He had just wanted to protect his brother! When he had overheard Nines and Hank talk about it, he had simply been concerned. He had only ever seen Gavin as the anti-android nuisance that couldn’t stay in his own lane. The arrogant man that only cared for his career. The guy without many friends because he never let anyone close enough to actually see beyond what was clearly your typical schoolyard bully grown up and misplaced in the police force.
he didn’t want his brother to be pulled in for a prank. He hadn’t wanted his brother’s feelings to be run over by the truck that was human rottenness.
He hadn’t – not even for a single moment – thought about the possibility that it was something genuine. That Nines really did love that man and that Gavin returned it. He hadn’t even taken into account it could be a chance. And he had hurt not only Nines’ feelings, but seemingly also ruined what had made them both happy. Some kind of brother he was… RA9, how could he set this right? He had to do something, it was his own fault, his doing alone. But how would he even begin? Nines didn’t let himself be talked to, Connor couldn’t even blame him for it. But Gavin… he couldn’t imagine the human to let him in, much less to actually listen or even consider his apology. But he had to do something and maybe even something as futile as this was better than doing nothing at all.
Statistically speaking there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place. He remembered thinking like this during the revolution. He prayed to whoever was listening that it would prove true another time as he knocked at the door. To his surprise the wood gave way at the impact and opened a fraction. The lock was broken, a footprint underneath telling him everything he needed to know.
‘Gavin?’, he asked as he tentatively opened the front door a little more and stepped in. ‘It’s me… Connor.’ He winced, bracing for the human to come running at him with something sharp. But his only response was a very weak, very drunken: ‘Phck off.’
So no threat at least. And he was a lot further down his plan as he had ever thought to come. ‘Gavin, I came to apologise. ‘Phhhhck oooff. Don wanna talk with ya plastic shit ass.’
‘Very eloquently put’, Connor commented, before he could catch himself. He had made it to the kitchen, where Gavin sat next to the open fridge wrapped in Nines’ old Cyberlife jacket and multiple bottles – all of them empty, one of them shattered - to his side.
‘I sssay whatIwant, thisis my houssse.’
‘I get it.’
Gavin blinked against the clearly too bright kitchen light and furrowed his brows in tired anger. ‘Get. Out.’ He prepared to throw the bottle in his hand at Connor, who quickly lifted his hands. ‘Hey, watch out, this one’s still full. I guess you wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good alcohol on me.’ He hadn’t known it would work, but it did, as Gavin looked at the bottle then to the empty stack next to him, apparently deciding it wasn’t worth the effort as he took another chug.
‘Fine. Whaddaya want?’
‘Apologise. It wasn’t my right to say that.’
‘Yer damn right, asshole.’
‘I didn’t believe you two really were in love.’
‘Didn’t believe it either’, Gavin slurred. And as Connor didn’t respond, he continued. ‘I mean me? With a guy like him? God, I thought I was dreaming.’
‘Really?’ Connor dared to sit down on the floor opposite of the man that had leaned back his head against the wall, smiling completely lovelorn.
‘Of course. I’m n asshole. I can’t keep friends. Think they don’t really like me, just pretend. Destroyed every single one so far. Forced myself to be with girls, y’know, thought that I’d learn with time. So then, Nines comes up and is perfect, feels perfect, cares and… Nah, didn’t believe it. Told him upfront he would get factory second. Y’know, like a decent man. Told him all my problems and stuff and he still stayed. Agreed to all. First time in my life someone heard that and stuck around.’
‘And I messed it up?’
‘Yeah. Big time.’
Connor shuffled uncomfortably. The open refrigerator made it far colder than it needed to be. ‘How can I repair the damage?’
‘You can’t. You… You were the source but I… I panicked and broke up with him.’
‘But maybe I could-‘
‘No. I have to man up, go there and tell him I love him still. That I will phcking commit, that I’ll send my parents to hell and my childhood memories right with them. That this is me and only me and that I want him like my gay ass should. But I can’t. I am phcking drunk and that’s the only way I can say that without freezing or panicking or building up walls or-‘
‘What if I drive you to the precinct right now?’
That seemed to be too much for Gavin’s inebriated brain and Connor waited for an answer.
‘Nines is still at work?’, he slurred, obviously confused.
‘Yes.’
‘Yess… That’s… That’s a good idea… Just… Phck…’
Gavin made it surprisingly fast to his feet and to the kitchen sink before emptying his stomach into it. Connor was next to him in an instant, holding him upright and helping him clean up afterwards. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to drive Gavin back to the precinct like this, but if this was the only way to right his mistakes, he would gladly do it. And besides, the night shift likely had seen worse already.
Gavin was still in Nines jacket as Connor helped him out of the car and guided him to the back entrance meant for supplies and smoke breaks. It wasn’t that far to the evidence rooms from there and Connor managed to get him inside without anyone really noticing. He tried to open the door to where Nines had locked himself in but was declined.
‘Go away Connor.’
The voice alone was what let Gavin next to him perk up and brace against the wall.
‘Nines? Nines, please, can you hear me? I love you. And I was an idiot, I panicked and I-‘
The door was ripped open in a heartbeat and there was Nines, catching Gavin by the shoulders and pressing him in a close hug. ‘Gavin!’
‘I’m so sorry, I love you and I didn’t mean what I said, I panicked, and you know I say shitty things then, I need… I need you and I want you and phck everyone’s opinion, I am allowed to have you and I can do whatever the hell I want!’
‘Yes’, Nines gently whispered. ‘Yes, of course. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told-‘
‘No. Phck this! I want to tell everyone, and they will have to accept this shit! God pcking damnit!’
‘Okay, but let’s wait with that until you are sober, okay? Come here.’ Nines drew gentle circles on his back and relished in the feeling of having his human – his – here in his arms and hold him and tell him he was safe and loved and cherished. He didn’t even know what he had murmured n the end of it, but it had made Gavin slump against him and fall half asleep in his arms. Nines decided then to retreat back into the evidence room. He did shoot Connor one last glance, grateful for bringing Gavin back to him, but also implying this would have repercussions as soon as their minds had settled.
Connor just swallowed, nodded and left them to it. He guessed he had deserved that.
#detroit become human#dbh#Reed900#RK900#Gavin Reed#Connor dbh#RK800#damn this was a ride can you see the point I was close to tears?#Why do I love writing angsty shit so much?#Maybe I'm just in the mood at the moment who knows#I didn't outfluff myself but I think I improved in flowery language a bit? Idk
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Imagine teacher Tom Hiddleston (AU)
Summary : Imagine Tom Hiddleston is your cold English teacher who scares the whole class, and you are constantly arrogant with him because you don’t like the way he talks to students. One day he caught you cheating on a test, unfortunately or fortunately for you, he’s going to decide your punishment and it’s going to be… rough.
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader , Tom Hiddleston x you
Warnings: Dom/sub, tom hiddleston - Freeform, Daddy Dom Tom Hiddleston, Dom Tom Hiddleston, Teacher Tom Hiddleston, Professor Tom Hiddleston, Villain Tom Hiddleston, Tom Hiddleston in a Suit , Angry Tom Hiddleston Spanking, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, Dirty Talk, bratty student, Touching, Corporal Punishment, Punishment, Misogyny,…
A Notes: Hi everyone, this is for my Tom thirst hehe, hope you’ll like it :) !
Please, check the tag, Tom is very very rude, very Dom and a little misogynistic in this story. Of course, I’m sure Tom’s personality is completely different in real life, it’s only fiction, fantasy.
Constructive criticism are welcome, English is not my first language so I apologize for possible mistakes. If you see errors, please tell me! :)
Have fun !
Tag list is open, check my bio :)
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It’s Monday, 8 am and you were sitting in your usual place at the back of the classroom, you were constantly sighing at the idea of starting the lesson, what a nightmare to start with the English teacher… Mr Hiddleston was as friendly as a prison guard and he wasn’t really gentle with the students, he was always condescending when he spoke to them. You were wondering how a man with such a beautiful face, such perfect features, could be so disdainful.
The noise in the classroom was terrible, the students were shouting and their voices echoed in the hallway. Paper pellets were flying around the classroom until a silhouette arrived at the entrance of the room, a heavy silence settled in the room as the students rushed to their seats. Mr. Hiddleston closed the door behind him and walked towards his desk, the sound of his shoes resonating through the room like a military march.
“I see you’re having a lot of fun when you’re not under surveillance. You look like a bunch of savages, your parents obviously haven’t done their job,” he sighed disdainfully. His ice-coloured eyes scanning every student.
He put his bags on his desk, turned to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk, “I hope you’ve done your homework and have studied last week’s lesson, otherwise you’re going to have a hard time. ” he said, smirking.
You could see the other students’ faces decomposing, a girl spoke « B-but… S-sir… S-sir… You didn’t say that… We had to study the lesson of…“ He turned his head slowly towards her with an irritated expression, that was enough to shut her up. The girl swallowed the end of her sentence.
“Miss Johnson, we have a tongue well hanged today…? “The girl lowered her eyes, knowing that she had made a mistake by speaking without his permission. ” We will enjoy it then.“ he said, turning to the blackboard and writing the sentence, *When a woman has scholarly inclinations there is generally something wrong with her sexual nature,* he crushed the chalk forcefully writing every word, every letter.
“So, Miss Johnson, who wrote this quote? "he asked, raising an interrogating eyebrow, crossing his arms on his chest. You were shocked by the pressure he was putting on that poor girl. Her eyes began to water and you could see her hands twisting nervously under the table. "I… I don’t know, sir…” she whispered embarrassed by the situation.
“Excuse me Miss, but I probably didn’t hear your very well…” he replied, leaning slightly forward and pointing his ear with his index finger to make her understand that she had to speak louder. You were convinced that he took pleasure in humiliating the poor girl. She began to cry and it was too much for you. “Miss Johnson, we don’t have all day,” he said, raising his voice.
You smashed your fists brutally against your table. “Stop! Can’t you see you’re bullying her?! Aren’t you tired of persecuting the vulnerable?! You’re pathetic. "You shouted in rage.
You could see a bolt of lightning passing through his stormy eyes. His jaw was clenched and his fists too. "Well, Miss Y/LN, I didn’t know we had a good samaritan in the class. You used your mouth usefully, for once. "You wanted to wipe that nasty little smirk off his face.” Miss Johnson, how sad… I’m terribly disappointed in you… “ he said faking a disappointed face. "Maybe the author was right…” he sighed.
“Shut up, you misogynistic bastard,” you whispered angrily for yourself. How dare He.
“Well, since I see you all seem to have studied, I’m going to do a test now about the authors and their quotes, take a piece of paper and match the right authors with the right quotes. "He said as he began to write the quotes on the board.
After a few minutes of chalk noises, he turned to sit at his desk and said in a stern voice, "You have 30 minutes, not one more. »
You didn’t know how you were going to get through it, you didn’t open a single page of your english lesson this weekend, in fact you didn’t even listen him last week, you were too busy thinking about what you were going to do when you came home. You were already almost failing his lesson, if you missed that test you were going to be in the red. You couldn’t afford to miss your year because you’d already failed one year. Suddenly an idea came into your head, you hadn’t turned off your phone before class, it was easy, you would quickly find each author by typing the quote on google. Mr. Hiddleston had his head buried in a book, so you had time to do your work, you were at the back of the class and he couldn’t see what you were doing because you were too far from his desk.
*****************
Twenty-three minutes had passed, you had only three authors left to find, you sighed with relief seeing that you still had 7 minutes left. You decided to put your phone between your thighs because you knew that he couldn’t see it there and you lifted your head from your paper to relax for a minute and …. Where was the teacher?! He wasn’t sitting at his desk, how was that possible?! You didn’t even hear him get up from his chair. You looked frenetically for his presence, your head going from right to left quickly, when you felt a hot breath against your neck, you froze. He was there, right behind you, you didn’t even hear him approaching… Did he see you cheating…? Now you felt his breath close to your ear and it made you shiver.
"What are you looking for, Y/N? "He whispered softly.
Your chest was rising fast, your heart was pounding because of the fear running through your body. He never called you by your first name, and that didn’t presage anything good. If he had seen you cheating, he was going to give you a bad grade … You squeezed your thighs together until it started to hurt, you were afraid that he would see something.
You heard him chuckled darkly in your ear, his proximity, made you feel… strange. You felt something burning in your belly but you didn’t know what it was… Or maybe you did?
"Come on Y/N, open your legs for me. ” he whispered, so you were the only one to hear his words, his nose gently brushing against your ear. You let out a little moan, your trembling, sweaty hands grabbing the table. His voice had the effect of an electric shock all over your body, you were burning inside… You hated yourself for feeling this way about him but you couldn’t help yourself… Why was he so attractive?
He put his hand on your shoulder and pressed lightly, not hard enough to hurt you but firm enough to make you understand that if you didn’t do what he asked you to do, he would hurt you there.
With a sigh you slowly opened your trembling thighs and the teacher dipped his hand between your thighs, he stayed there for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, while his hand was close to your private parts, you could see his face showing a triumphant smile, you didn’t look at him but you could see his dirty grin from the corner of your eye. He finally removed his hand, taking your phone and paper with him. “Thank you. "he whispered.
Damn it. He was going to give your a really bad grade, you were going to fail your year again… What were you going to tell to your parents… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your eyes started to water at the thought but you didn’t want to cry in front of him, oh no, you wouldn’t give him the pleasure. You wouldn’t beg him either, you wanted to keep your dignity intact.
The school bell rang in the hallway, "You can go, don’t forget to put your test on my desk when you leave. ». You got up in slow motion and started to put your things in your bag, completely depressed.
You walked towards the door, you could feel his eyes on you as you walked through the classroom, before you could reach the door you heard his voice ” Miss Y/LN, I would like to speak to you for a moment please. Wait until everyone leaves and then close the door. ” he ordered.
You knew he was going to humiliate you for many minutes, you could see him gloating. But why didn’t he do it in front of the whole class…? You kept your eyes locked on the floor, refusing to make eye contact. But you could feel his eyes running over your body, why was he looking at you… that way? The situation became more and more uncomfortable, you couldn’t stop thinking about his hand between your thighs…
After the last student left you closed the door, you were determined to show him that he was not intimidating you and that he did not have any power over you. With a determined walk you moved towards his desk, he had not taken his eyes off you.
When you arrived in front of him you said, “Sir, if you think I’m going to apologize, I won’t. I’m not going to apologize. If you think I’m going to beg you to not give me detention, you’re mistaken. If you think I’m going to beg you not to give me a bad grade on that test…” You marked a pause, “You’re wasting your time. “He was staring at you with a straight face. Your breathing had accelerated with your words. You spat those words so angrily that you didn’t even take the time to breath while you spoke.
After a few minutes of silence, a grin appeared on his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief, you didn’t like it, it wasn’t supposed to make him smile…
"Don’t worry Y/N, I didn’t ask you to stay for this. Don’t be concerned about my time, I have 1 hour of free time now. "he answered you, getting up from his desk. He walked around his desk and in a few steps he was close to you, he started to walk around you like a predator surrounding his prey. Your fists were so clenched that your knuckles turned white. What did that bastard want…
"What a fiery temper you have, Miss…” he whispered these words, leaning towards your ear, and walked away. You almost felt… naked. “Actually I don’t want your pleas, I can’t stand the whining… ” he said disdainfully. The sound of his shoes was resonating in the empty classroom. “I think that if you get a bad grade for this test, your year is in danger … Am i right ?” Shit, he knew. “I don’t think you need to fail your year… I think you need more… discipline.” When he said the last word, you felt him stopped right behind you. You could feel his hot breath hitting your neck.
“W-what do you mean… ? "you stuttered in a shaky voice, your legs were shaking but you didn’t know if it was anxiety or… Excitement.
You felt his finger touch your neck and he brushed your hair to one side so he could have better access to your soft skin. He pressed a wet kiss against your neck and you closed your eyes, muffling a moan of… Pleasure?
"I want to make a deal with you Y/N,” he whispered, “I want to punish you … Punish you for being a little bratty bitch. "You felt his hands grabbing your hips, and he pressed his body against yours, you could feel his hardness against your ass…
"You have two options. First, you submit to my authority and lie down on that desk while I give you the correction you deserve…” Suddenly he pulled himself away from your body and said in a cold voice “ Second, you get out of my classroom and you explain to your parents that you’re a dirty little cheater. "He paused, "But I want you to know that if you lie down on that desk, I don’t want any tears, I don’t want any struggles, you lie down and you stay still. » Another pause, "I don’t want to force you to do anything. » he mocked.
Very funny asshole, like I have a choice, you thought. You could hear your heart beating in your chest, the noise was so intense, you couldn’t think. You were trying to give yourself courage, it was just a bad time to go through… Then maybe you could like it… No, no, you didn’t want to like it…
” You better hurry up and make a decision Y/N, my patience is limited. ” he warned.
You walked slowly towards his desk, your knees trembling with apprehension and you lied down on his desk with your face against the hardwood surface, your hands on either side of your face. He had full access to your buttocks. You could hear his footsteps approaching you and stop a few inches away.
“Good girl,” you heard him whisper, “I’m going to teach you your place and you’re going to like it. ” he whispered as he flipped your skirt up, exposing your ass and your panties. You couldn’t deny feeling his hands under your skirt made you wet. But it was also very humiliating.
“You will count them.” You nodded, unable to speak.
You knew his hand was hovering in position. He liked to see you shiver, waiting for the first spanking that would make you moan. A loud smack filled the room as his hand met your buttock.
“One.” You moaned.
*SMACK*
You jumped a little, startled. The spanking was harder than the last one.
“I can’t hear you Y/N, speak louder or it’s going to hurt. » he warned
« TWO » you cried out.
He smacked you twice more times in a row. One of the hits made your clit twitch.
Three, four, …
“If I knew you’d enjoy this… activity, I would have done it sooner” he mocked. He ran his finger over your white panties which had become transparent due to your wetness. He was right, you were excited… You were starting to forget the humiliation and you were enjoying every hand that crashed against your skin, making it redden a little more each time.
*SMACK.SMACK.SMACK*
Five, six, seven…
This time you whimpered in pain, lust and desperation. You felt yourself grow wetter. His hands made your knees so weak. « Please … » You whispered in a whiny tone.
“I knew you’d finally beg me, you cocky slut. ” he mocked.
*SMACK.SMACK.*
Eight, nine…
You loved the harsh slaps against your skin. You had never known that you could feel like this. Especially with him…
“You know” he spoke slowly in a low whisper,“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me this year, my behavior disgusts you, but I know you’ve been dying for me to fuck you like the slut you are, with your arrogant attitude, making eyes contact with me, crossing and uncrossing your legs. » His arm raised high and the final blow came.
« TEN » You cried out, breathless. Your bottom pulsed in pain, but it was drowned out by the pleasure you were feeling right now.
He went back to his desk as if nothing had happened and said in an authoritarian voice « You have taken your punishment so well, miss. You can go, now. ”
You stood up suddenly, your face red in shame. You rushed to the door but before you could get out of the class, you heard him, “Oh Miss, before I forget, you can relax about your grade. ” he paused, “But watch your tongue during my lessons, my punishments can be much more… painful. "he warned you with a large creepy smile.
He barely had time to finish his sentence before you opened the door and ran to disappear into the hallway.
(Not my gif)
#tom hiddleston#tom hiddelston x reader#loki#tom hiddleston smut#tom hiddleston fandom#tom hiddleston fanfiction#ao3 writer#marvel#mcu#dom tom hiddleston
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When Nines had been activated he had expected to be sent off into another country or something, someplace where all his skills could be used to their fullest. But as he was lead into the DPD he found no such thing awaiting him. Sure, he could do the job well, better than even, but he didn’t use a lot of his processing power for it. Even being assigned to Detective Reed hadn’t used much of it, almost disappointed if he could be.
From what Nines had heard, he had expected Gavin to be much more of a handful when they met, and yet it seemed he was more restrained. He wasn’t sure if it was from his supposed ass kicking, the laws or Nines own general aura of ‘Don’t Try Me’ that seemed to follow him that kept the man from doing the same as he had with Connor. Still, the human did try to play nice for the first few weeks at least and even for curious about all the things the RK could do.
It started after a suspect chase, Nines having run down a man faster than Gavin had ever seen. It wasn’t that great a feat if one were to ask the RK but it seems his partner thought otherwise.
“Shit, tin-man, not bad. You cleared that wall like you’ve been doing it for years.” Seeing as the RK had already gotten things under control Gavin made himself at home on the hood of another car.
Nines loaded the man in a police, closing the door with a firm slam to let the driver know he was all set in before watching the car drive off. “I was programmed with many skills that far exceed human capabilities. But thank you.” Machine or not he will still be polite.
Gavin seemed to think a moment before a grin spread over his face, jerking his head to the ally behind him. “Hey, try running up the wall. Show me what you can really do.” From his coat, Nines saw him pull a laser pointer out and point it at a higher part of the wall. “See if you can get there.”
It was a curious command, though they had work to do he couldn’t really say no. To sate the detective's curiosities he made his way down the ally, keeping his eye on the mark he backed up before booking it across the short ally and ran up the wall. His shoes didn’t have a lot of grip but he managed to get a good ten feet up and touch the brick with the pointer on it. Once landed and back on his feet, he could hear Gavin laughing.
“Holy shit you got all the way up there! Wonder how far you would get if you were dressed for it...” Thankfully whatever Gavin had been wondering had been dropped there, saving Nines the hassle of arguing about wardrobe.
The little events didn’t stop there, Gavin growing more curious and even amused with the RK as time went on. The following week had met Nines with a slow day, filing work had been so fast he even took up doing his partners just to be doing something. Once that was out of the way he started to find anything and everything to handle as to not sit idle. He was meant to often be active in work, his programming built to handle extreme stress, so the lack of was almost it’s own kind of stress.
Nines could tell Gavin was noticing it too, as he man hefted himself out of the chair and and nudged the RK’s seat. “Come on, bucket brain, tired of just sitting here waiting on shit to happen and your fidgeting is starting to piss me off.”
While Nines had no idea where Gavin was taking him he was more than ok to be out and doing something, using progressing power for something other than staring at a wall. He was quick to follow and kept in step with the shorter man, joining him in the auto car as his pre-constructions were trying to suss out where they were heading based on paths taken. As they made it a block away from the building, Gavin fiddling with his phone the whole way, he finally spoke again.
“Hey, what weather phenomenon causes more deaths in the U.S. annually than any other except lightning?” It was such an odd thing to hear, why would Gavin ask him such a thing?
Without missing a beat, path tracking in the background, he did a quick search. “Tornadoes, around sixty.” What Gavin playing a game?
“How many people been on the moon?” He barely glanced up at Nines, and the Rk was starting to think he was looking up the questions himself. There is no reason to ask such things.
“Twelve. Detective why do you-”
The man waved off his question. “Don’t... don’t worry about it. Just go with it.”
Nines did as he was told, answering inane questions as well as track their location and keep track of the police radio. Question after question, the android’s processors and hud became less of a mess, extra power being spent on the task given to him. As the nagging from his programming eased they pulled back up at the station, and Nines realised that Gavin had just been keeping him occupied.
“Thank you, detective.” He didn’t need to say what for, they both knew. Slowly, he closed his eyes, trying to imitate Connor’s smile but was unable, he wasn’t built for it. At least when he opened his eyes Gavin wasn’t off put, only staring a moment before smirking, shaking his head and going back inside.
This event in itself ended up the cause of a little training program. Well less training and more like a test program to see what all Nines could do, even outside of his normal skills. So it was with this he found himself outside with Gavin and a few others that followed to spectate, the former with a controller in his hands. A quick scan showed the RK that it was to a drone. After a few moments the man was grinning and had the thing in the air, buzzing around about nine feet from the ground.
“You can catch people, but can you catch a drone?” Was all he said and Nines understood what they would be doing that day.
He didn’t need to be told his objective, staring down the drone before taking off after it. It didn’t take much for him to catch it the first time, Gavin having been fully unprepared for his speed, but he got much better at piloting it and keeping it away from the determined android. Nines always caught it in the end though, much to Gavin’s amusement. He wondered just what was so funny about this, but as long as he was fulfilling mission goals and not idling, he was ok not asking.
So the weeks went on, Nines’ downtime after finishing reports spent practicing with the drones like a hunter and even being joined by Connor from time to time. His routine kept him busy and his programming placated in it’s need for vigorous use that normally would only come from the military.
Two months into this and another day where Nines finished his work, he retrieved a coffee for the man. “Detective, when you are finished we can head outside.”
Taking a sip of his coffee, Gavin smiled. “Man, you’re cute when you get eager like that.”
This took the RK by surprise, his hug blinking in small errors. “I am made to be a killing machine, a solider in ever right. I’m not cute.”
The man scoffed. “So are cats and they are cute as fuck, so can it and just accept a complement.”
Again, his vision was tinted with a glaring, angry red. “Are you comparing me to a small, furry animal?”
Setting his drink down, Gavin started to count on his fingers. “Well lets see, you slow blink when happy, you climb things and for the last month you have been chasing and catching flying things by leaping for them. I would say that sounds like a cat.”
Each detail was like a sledge hammer to the wall of commands and prompts that always held onto him, he didn’t even know what to think about that. The cheeky look on Gavin’s face finally made it fall just so he could stare at the man, flabbergasted that he was right. He had been undoubtedly been acting like a cat and been pleased by this.
He could see Gavin knew what just happened, the chortle giving him away. “Good thing I like cats, hu? Knew there was something about you I liked.” After a moment, he made a little ‘ps-ing’ noise like one might use to call a cat, getting a deadpan look from the android.
“Oh shut up.” Despite his words, he was fighting a grin.
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disarm me with a smile (or: Time to give Aric Jorgan an Aric Jorgasm)
So it’s been quite a while since I wrote anything and I had what you might call a very specific scenario in mind involving Aric Jorgan I wanted to write, but no suitable Trooper.
Then @sunsetofdoom very generously allowed me to borrow her Jerin, who turned out to be just what I needed and is, believe me, exactly what you need too (although you might not know it from this).
It also turned out to be Sunset’s birthday, so I really, really wanted to do a good job with her girl in order to pay tribute to Sunset, who in addition to being ridiculously talented is also unfailingly generous and magnificently filthy, a rare combination in these degenerate days, I don’t make the rules.
Happy belated birthday Sunset! and check out her Jerin content and, fuck, all her content if you haven’t already, and if you haven’t, are you even alive? no.
disarm me with a smile (Aric Jorgan/female Republic Trooper)
Jorgan just wants to get his paperwork finished, but as always when his CO has something else on her mind, there’s nothing for him to do but go down fighting
(No reports were completed during the making of this story.)
WARNINGS: filth; handjobs; ears; much fondling of ears; really an impossible amount of ear action; half-baked alien biology; femdom; risk of discovery
' - revealed an accuracy rating of 89.7%, a 0.6 improvement on last artillery exercise conducted on Tatooine (see report HV/AE/74-J). Subsequent to target elimination, squad was deployed in standard search formation covering a radius of -'
'You still at that?'
Jorgan slumped back in his chair as the words he'd painstakingly lined up in his head to complete the sentence broke ranks and dived for cover. One thing he hadn't missed about being an officer was the paperwork. 'Last one.'
He heard the slapping of her flimsy plastic sandals against the soles of her feet as she approached him, not that he needed that to tell him she'd just returned from the refresher; the smell of the ship's regulation-issue cleaning products and the herb-scented skin lotion she'd got on Alderaan had filled the air before she even stepped through the doorway. As she drew closer, he smelled clean skin, wet hair. 'Long shower,' he noted.
'CO's privilege.' She stopped behind him, and he felt the slightest vibration through the metal as she rested her fingertips on the chair back. 'Long report.'
'XO's privilege,' Aric returned dryly. He deliberately didn't turn to look at her; he knew what she usually wore when she got out of the shower - sweatpants and a sleeveless undershirt - and nothing about the sight of all that glistening green skin was going to help him finish these reports. 'You need the room?'
'Nah, you're good.' The CO's quarters came complete with a tiny antechamber designed to be used as an office, complete with chair, desk and wall-mounted terminal, all of which was generally wasted on Jerin, who preferred to write what passed for her reports on a datapad while lying on her back on the couch in the common area, long legs extended up the wall. Jorgan, on the other hand, found a stack of paperwork a nearly impossible proposition without a desk and a terminal equipped with a proper keypad, so he used the captain's office by permission; a working arrangement. One of many. 'You finish up.'
Despite her words, she didn't move away from the chair; her proximity was as difficult to ignore as the cloud of her fresh-from-the-refresher scent that still surrounded them both. Jorgan leaned forward, clearing his throat, and checked his notes.
'- 3 klicks from initial contact. Grid blocks 1-3 were covered in an average of 14 minutes, 36 seconds per block, dropping to 11 minutes 17 as terrain -'
'Kriff, you're thorough.' Jerin sounded amused, and the chair shifted slightly, as if she was now leaning on the back to look over his shoulder. 'Sure you don't want to include the ambient temperature? The phases of the moon?'
Interrupted, Aric lifted his fingers from the keyboard and glared at the terminal screen, in which he could faintly see Jerin's reflection. 'Problem with my reports, sir?'
'No, no problem.' The tone of her voice clearly hinted at an imminent 'but' and Aric waited, but after several seconds went by and she didn't speak, he figured she must have thought better of it and reached for the keyboard again -
'I'm just saying it was a routine training exercise, not the first three Xanitian Wars.'
Aric flexed his fingers, which hadn't quite touched the keys. 'So I should follow your example? What did your report to Garza after Tatooine say? "They died, we didn't. Best wishes, Captain Porter"?'
He saw a flicker of movement reflected in the terminal screen as she laughed. 'Garza said it was my best report ever.'
Mainly because Dorne wrote the one that actually got sent, and every one after that. Aric sighed. 'You going to stand there all night?'
He felt the chair shift slightly as she shrugged. 'Depends.'
'On?'
'On how long it takes you to finish your magnum opus.'
'Why? There something you want me to do afterwards?' Sufficiently distracted to turn away from the screen and twist to look back at her, Aric realised a split second later he'd done exactly what she was hoping he would, because she was smirking down at him in a very particular way, and the picture she made - bare arms braced on the back of the chair in a way that not so subtly highlighted her muscles, freshly-lotioned green skin gleaming like satin, wet hair slicked back and shining - was -
... was ...
.... was not conducive to finishing a report on Havoc Squad training exercises.
She shrugged, and he didn't need Cathar vision to notice the way her chest moved underneath that thin undershirt when she did. 'Play your cards right, Lieutenant,' she said, and the tone of her voice told Aric clearly that this battle was already lost, and the only thing left was to fight a valiant rearguard action and hope to go down with honour.
He had to swallow twice before he could say, 'Door's open.'
She didn't even glance back. 'Nobody's out there.'
There might be nobody in the common area now - for once - but anybody could wander in at any moment, could hear a noise from the captain's office, could walk curiously to the open door and see ... 'We shouldn't,' he mumbled, lowering his gaze, realizing as he said it that he sounded like some cornered ingenue in a holodrama.
'Shouldn't what?' She leaned down, resting her elbows on the back of her chair, her face just inches from his, and raised her eyebrows. 'There something you're planning to do to me, Lieutenant?'
That did it; he felt the heat, the tingle ... He turned back hastily to face the terminal, trying to hide it, although he knew it was a futile gesture.
It was; he heard her crow with delighted laughter, and saw the movement reflected in the terminal screen as she raised a hand to muffle it. 'Why, Lieutenant,' she said, lowering her hand to her chest in fake shock. 'Did I do that? Is that for me?'
He tried not to squirm in the narrow chair, tried to resist the impulse to hunch over and attempt to hide it. 'You know it is,' he growled.
'Oh, don't be shy.' He felt her fingertips graze the back of his neck, drifting upwards ... 'You know I love to see them wiggle.'
The tingling intensified, and Aric jerked irritably at her touch. Damn the woman! He'd served with COs, with entire squads who never found out what Cathar ears did when their owners got embarrassed. But two days on the same ship with this Coruscant back-slum loud-mouth and she'd spotted it ... and never forgotten about it.
It was ridiculous. He'd long ago gotten used to the idea that non-furred humanoids like humans and Mirialans had a tendency to find the physiology of furred species like his own ... intriguing; that they had a regrettable habit of finding perfectly normal behaviours and responses cute, even of comparing them to those exhibited by their domesticated animals. On the whole, he thought Cathar came off better than Bothans and Wookies, and anybody who had ever made jokes in his presence about scratching posts and hairballs had quickly seen, or rather been shown, the error of their ways.
But if Jerin was better at something than noticing things you'd rather she didn't, it was making you like her so much you didn't mind. She disarmed people as easily as she did bombs.
Even Garza. Even Fuse. Even Dorne.
Her fingertips were still just touching the back of his neck, just below the base of his skull, just resting there as if she'd forgotten about them.
Even him.
He could still feel her delighted gaze on his twitching ears. He sat up straight, resisting the urge to tilt his head and brush each ear against his shoulder to stop the tingling. Personally he didn't see what the big deal was; at least ears that wriggled slightly as a social signifier were subtle, not like furless faces that bloomed with blood. He cleared his throat in what he hoped was a dignified fashion. 'I'd better finish this report.'
'Mmmm, yeah, you'd better.' She was still leaning on her elbows on the back of the chair, a casual pose; anyone who looked in through the doorway would think that she was just reading the terminal screen over his shoulder, perhaps offering him some constructive advice on his report, like a good CO.
Anyone who looked in through the doorway wouldn't see the fingers still positioned at the back of his neck, the tips just grazing the fur as he breathed.
'Wouldn't want to waste the whole night on it, after all,' she added.
Concentrate. Aric squared his shoulders, extended his arms, positioned his own fingers above the keyboard.
'- terrain became smoother -'
'Smoother' was a dangerous word right now; he highlighted and deleted.
'- more easily navigable by patrols on foot.'
Garza, or whoever would be reading this, knew that they would have been on foot.
He was almost sure that Jerin's fingertips were higher up his neck than they had been before.
He highlighted and deleted.
'- as terrain became less rocky. After approximately forty-nine minutes, squad Besh -'
'You sure it was forty-nine? Not forty-eight? Not fifty-one?' Jerin punctuated each number with a touch, her index and middle fingers walking slowly across his neck towards his right ear. 'Did we synchronise chronometers?'
'We did.' He cleared his throat again, trying unsuccessfully to smooth the roughness from it as her fingers continued their deliberate progress. 'I covered that already.'
'You did? Where?' She straightened up, leaning further over the back of the chair to see the monitor screen better, and the curve of her breast not-so-accidentally grazed his cheek, and he knew that she could feel his pulse jump through his fur where her fingertips had come to rest just below his ear.
'Right there,' he said, working to keep his tone even. He pointed at the relevant words on the screen.
'My mistake.' She leaned back, with another oh-so-accidental brush of her breast against his neck. 'Carry on, soldier.'
Right. Reports. Training exercises. Aric blinked and refocused on the screen, trying to remember what he'd been going to write.
'- squad Besh reported signs of enemy passage, bearing 213.75 degrees.'
Her fingers were still resting just below his ear, behind the angle of his jaw, drifting in the tiniest of circles over the tips of his fur as they both breathed.
'Squad Aurek, designated C&C for this exercise, analysed topographical data and recomended -'
'You missed an "m" there,' Jerin pointed out, bringing her hand up to point at the screen.
The backs of her fingers just brushed the rim of his ear as she did so, and he jolted in his chair, twisting involuntarily to look back and up at her.
She met his glare with eyes of melting innocence. 'Something wrong?'
For a second, he let himself picture himself reaching up, grabbing a handful of her undershirt and twisting to pull her down to his level, a kiss so hard they'd both break away gasping for breath; the darkening skin on her face and neck as the blood started to pound, her lips swollen, eyes bright ...
He'd be damned if he let her win that easily. 'No, sir.' He turned back to face the terminal.
'Better carry on with your report then, Lieutenant.' Her hands brushed lightly along both of his shoulders, idly picking off a piece of lint here, deftly adjusting his collar there. 'We don't have all night.'
He squared his jaw and reached for the keyboard again.
Her hands rested softly one on each shoulder, and he could feel the heat of her skin through the thin material of his shirt. 'Or maybe we do.'
Aric highlighted, deleted, typed: '- recommended both squads circle round to intercept the enemy on their projected path -'
A finger trailed up the right side of his neck.
'- at canyon mouth designated Choke Point One -'
Despite himself, his fingers faltered on the keys as the questing finger approached the place where it had rested before, and he breathed in as it trailed towards his ear. But it swerved away before it reached the lobe, instead continuing on its slow path upwards, following the curve of his ear without touching it, up and over and down towards his cheek.
'- located at coordinates -'
The fingertip reversed its course, following the same path back, the softest skim against his fur as she traced the shape of his ear without touching it. All the way back down to just below the lobe and then up again.
Coordinates. He had them written down. In his notes. Somewhere. He reached blindly for his datapad.
As Jerin's finger trailed up and down, it left a line of tingling warmth in its wake, and his ear ... She hadn't even touched his ear and already it was warm, throbbing in a distant yet urgent tandem with the beating of his heart.
The problem, he thought dizzily as he paged unseeing through his notes, was evolution. Cathar ears didn't just signal embarrassment; they registered and communicated all different types of emotions and social cues. Much of what humans and many other humanoids communicated through their mouths - smiles, frowns, smirks, winces - was in a Cathar visible instead in tiny shifts and motions to which other species tended to be oblivious. And all of that subtle movement required many, many tiny muscles ... a tracery of many, many infinitesimal blood vessels to fill and throb ... hundreds upon thousands of nerve endings.
Well, that was one problem. The other was that the woman standing behind him was pure evil.
She would have to touch his ear soon, if only by accident. She would have to ...
Then he felt the lightest stroke across the lobe of his other ear, and jerked, caught completely off guard. The datapad clattered to the desk.
Pure. Damn. Evil.
'Better pick that up,' she suggested helpfully, her fingertip stroking across his earlobe again.
Automatically, with fingers that felt like they no longer belonged to him, he picked up the datapad again.
'You were looking up coordinates,' she prompted him.
Coordinates. He made an effort, focused, resolving the blur of shapes to green text on a black background. Numbers. He was looking for numbers.
Then both those fingertips stroked as one up the outside of both ears, and everything blurred again.
'Lieutenant?'
They followed the curves and indentations up to the point of his ears, and then down.
'Seems like you've stopped writing, Lieutenant.'
And then they slipped as one just half a centimeter inside, and started to climb again, this time tracing the inner surface of that soft ridge, up and over and down again.
He arched in his chair as she stroked him, the lightest, most abominably teasing brush of skin against fur, and the thought that came to mind was: It wasn't fair. It really, truly wasn't right that a woman of her size and strength, who threw punches the way other people threw grenades, should have hands like this.
Bomb-defusing hands. That's where this all started; that grimy Port Raga hellhole, the senator whining in his chair, the air thick with sirens and smoke and Jerin's hands, disconnecting sensors, rewiring gauges, as if there was all the time in the world. He'd watched, mesmerised, as she delicately picked apart the instruments of fiery death, and despite being one touch too heavy or too lingering away from the kind of pointless end he'd always hoped against hope he would avoid, all he could think about was those same fingers, grease-blackened, smelling of acrid smoke, on him.
After that it had been just a matter of time before she found him in the armoury one day and gave him what no shame could stop him from wanting, peeling away his armour piece by piece until she could run her hands all over his bare torso, touching and caressing him until he was panting, open-mouthed, then spinning him around and pinning him to the wall, grinding her hips against his from behind with such unmistakable promise that he came just like that, came inside his pants, without her ever even laying a finger on him below the waist.
'You'll never make captain at this rate, Lieutenant.'
She was using her thumbs now, a delicate pressure against the back of his earlobes as those fingers stroked again and again around the rim of his ear, each time lingering a little longer, straying a little further towards the inner folds and ridges.
Because she knew, knew what nobody else had ever looked at him and seen, what he'd rather die than let Dorne or Vik or any of the rest of them see; that day in, day out, he wore thirty-five kilos of reinforced durasteel, and underneath it what he really wanted was to be ... touched. Not to fuck, or even to be fucked, although both had their place. To be touched. Caressed. Stroked.
Petted.
Fingertips were circling the inner ridges of his ears now. He arched again, pressing his head back against her, no longer caring if she saw how much she was affecting him. She'd known from the beginning. From before the start.
The chair legs squealed on the floor, metal against metal, as he nudged it backwards, away from the desk. Creating space, so she could reach down and ...
Not that she would, unless and until he asked for it.
'Giving up already?' The question was a taunt, breathed out against one ear, stirring the fine hairs inside. Aric shuddered, fingers flexing and kneading at empty air, as he felt her move behind him to whisper the next question across the burning membranes of the other ear. 'On your reports, that is?'
The wet flick of her tongue across his earlobe.
'What happened to being thorough, Lieutenant?'
The softest tug of teeth.
'Unless there's something you care about more?'
His hand twitched involuntarily up towards hers before he could stop it. Her laugh stirred every strand of fur across his ear, made them sing.
'Better undo those pants before you make a mess of them.
Fumbling with numb fingers, he unfastened, yanked his pants open, hissing underneath his breath as his dick sprang free, hard and twitching and exposed.
She switched sides again, fondling fingers replacing lips and breath on his right ear, tongue snaking up and around and into his right.
Aric's dick throbbed, a pulse so powerful it was almost painful. His hand twitched upwards again -
Footsteps.
They froze as one, listening.
Someone was walking into the common area; Yuun or Dorne, he thought, or maybe even Vik; the big Weequay moved with a softness that belied his size, and it was hard to tell through the pounding of blood in his tortured ears.
The door was open. He tried to think, through the throbbing and the pounding and the tickle of breath stirring the fur on his ear. If whoever it was was just passing through the common area to get from one side of the ship to the other, they would have no reason to look through the open doorway, or at least would only take a casual glance that would reveal little but the captain's back.
If they were there to grab a snack, though, or to slump in the seating area that was just outside the door ...
He might be the one with his dick out, but she had more to lose, they both understood that; a blind eye might be turned to a CO sleeping with their subordinate as long as a certain level of discretion was observed, but this would hardly be considered discreet by any standards, let alone General Garza's. If whoever was out there saw. If they chose to report.
Even if they didn't report ... they'd know.
The footsteps grew a little louder, paused, as if whoever it was had stopped by the battered table, maybe to inspect a datapad left lying there, trying to decide whether the latest holodrama was worth sitting down and watching.
She was the CO. She would be the one to lose her command. And yet this was part of the equation for her, in a way he didn't quite understand. The open door was for her, not him; he felt no thrill from the possibility of discovery; there was nothing more likely to make his hard-on shrivel up and disappear than the thought of Tanno Vik, for example, knowing anything, ever, about what he and the captain did.
Jerin, though. He didn't understand why, but he understood that she was playing with the fears at the ragged fringe of her existence, playing with the possibility of it all unravelling, as much as she was playing with him.
Pathetically, that knowledge almost made him jealous.
Pressed together like this, his head flush against her chest, he could almost feel her heart beating, hear her trying not to breathe. He listened with her to the soft thunk as whoever it was put something down on the table, listened to the noises as they walked across the common area to the door on the other side, listened to the footsteps receding down the hall until they died away.
The captain let out the breath she'd been holding, and he could almost swear he felt each individual strand of fur shiver as it passed.
'Where were we?' The whisper was hot against the nape of his neck as she moved her head back from his left side to his right. He felt her lips fasten delicately around the crest of his ear, forming a tight, wet seal, and the touch of her tongue as it toyed with the pointed tip.
Damn dignity, kriff going down fighting, he couldn't take it any more. His hand seized hers and wrenched it downwards.
The softness of her breasts surrounded his head and neck as his grip on her hand yanked her forward, but neither they nor the drumming of the blood in his ears could muffle the little satisfied snicker she gave as he slapped her hand against his shaft and wrapped their fingers around it.
One thing he could say for his captain; she was merciful, once the conquest was complete. He let his hand fall away as hers began to move, firm strokes, her grip hot and hard and a little too dry, smoothing his fur on the downstroke only to rough it up once more. He'd given in, accepted defeat, and now all he had to do was wait in blind, throbbing anticipation for her to end it. He turned his head, nuzzling into her breasts, reaching back blindly for a handful of ass, thigh, anything he could dig his fingers into and squeeze as she worked him, worked him, worked him.
Jerin shifted her weight, brought her other hand around, enfolding him more tightly as she took hold of him with both hands, one circling tightly at the base of his shaft while the other twisted and stroked near the head. That's all it took, a few breathless, straining seconds of her hands on him and then everything that had been gathering in him ignited in white fire and he found himself thrusting wildly, desperately, as best as he could up into her fist.
She knew to release her grip on his shaft as the barbs sprang up, the teeth that were supposed to lock him into place within his mate until he was done spilling his seed, and her freed hand came up to stroke his face, cradling it against her breast as her other hand coaxed everything from him, circling and twisting to catch the pearly strands until he was spent, left trembling and boneless and clinging against her.
She stroked his face gently, murmuring things he registered only as waves of tenderness breaking against his twitching ears, as she brought her hand up in front of his face, his cum striping her green skin.
And without needing to be told, Aric bent his head to her hand and began to lick it clean, a purr rising from deep within his chest.
#swtor#fic#I wrote a thing#aric jorgan is also here#aric jorgan#sergeant grumpy cat#earogenous zones#I'm sorry
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THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE ; mun & muse - meme .
fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.
my muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless
Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO.
Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.
Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.
Are they underrated? YES / NO.
Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO.
Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.
Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO.
How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.
how strictly do you follow canon? i try to follow canon as much as possible for shinji in nge. for rebuild, mostly, only bc nge is my main version of shinji. it’s been a while since i read the manga, and there’s definitely stuff to like about it, but imo sadamoto’s writing there isn’t as good as anno’s is in nge ( and rebuild... to an extent ), so i’d probably end up changing some details for manga!shinji with whatever headcanons if i wrote him more often / went into depth about things? but it’s still interesting to see how different shinji and kaworu ( + other characters ) are in the manga, and new dynamics can be fun!!
SELL YOUR MUSE! aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. lemme try and sell you nge first unless you’ve already sold your soul to it LOL join me.... tldr it’s a classic anime and still relevant today despite it being like 24 years old ( with tons of merch now most i would shamelessly buy ). there’s so many characters that feel real and human in nge. hideaki anno poured too much of his heart and soul into it, the reflections of himself and his personal feelings feel very raw. i could also try to sell you like every nge character bc they’re all so well written but mha;lskdjf on to the last point. being the main character for eva, shinji is iconic too... he’s among the best leads i’ve seen in anime. most critics will agree and have agreed with this for decades ( if you only ask me, he’s number one for everything bc i’m biased af ❤ ). i talk too much about how he’s bby / cute and does his best, but probably not enough about how flawed he is as a person too, his deeper wants and needs, and when those things go horribly wrong. the duality is really what makes shinji complex and human. also bonus points!! he’s frequently scored at the top for fav anime characters in japan since ‘95 in newtype and stuff n_n
now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting ( even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think? ). next to louder and more colourful characters like asuka, for example, shinji can come off as quiet and boring ( especially compared to traditional hot blooded mecha protagonists in general ). shinji isn’t a genius or leader. he’s super passive, introverted, shy, and bad at fun conversations. he saves the world and tries to do the right thing, so by definition, he’s a hero--- but he’s also just a boy who’s gone through a lot. he has a lot of depth and hidden anger / feelings in general, but it would take a lot for him ( i.e. pressure, circumstances ) to express that outwardly--- daily shinji isn’t really like that. fandom wise, i think shinji recently came in 4th in the NHK eva popularity contest, so that’s pretty good, people do like him there. kawoshin is also as popular as ever ( and i’ve also seen more shinji fans in the western side too ). meanwhile old nge fandom be like ‘shinji u loser get in the fucking robot!!!111 ur surrounded by hot chicks every single day and still cry wow’ but that’s more like an ironic meme nowadays LOL
what inspired you to rp your muse? i finally watched eva properly like two years ago?? ( too late 4 kawoshin 2015 fandom q-q ) it was good so i sold my soul to it and shinji mhasdflkj
what keeps your inspiration going? eva being my fav anime and shinji my fav character, seeing fanworks of eva, and ofc everyone who interacts with me here on my blog q-q bless u and thank u
some more personal questions for the mun .
give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.
do you think you give your character justice? YES / NO.
do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO ( sometimes )
do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO.
do you think a lot about your muse during the day? YES / NO.
are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO.
are you confident in your writing? YES / NO ( sort of?? )
are you a sensitive person? YES / NO.
do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? yes to respectful and constructive criticism!! but i’m still pretty circumstantial about it for my comfort ( just to avoid random ppl being rude etc ), so i think i’d prefer to reblog a meme for that and / or ask for opinions and tips from my mutuals!
do you like questions, which help you explore your character? yesss, i think most of us would love that n_n both unprompted and reblogged memes work for me
if someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? i’m a private blog, so if it’s more of a plot based headcanon that a mutual wanted to discuss for fun and in a friendly way, then ok! i think there’d be room for constructive discussion there ( ah yes eva and its 24 years of pepe silvia meme.png complex lore discussion still going strong )
if someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? similar to the above and the constructive criticism thing, i’ll only care / be open to discussing that kinda stuff if we’re mutuals and if you’ve seen eva, etc.
if someone really hates your character, how do you take it? as seriously as a funny meme when it comes to randos LOL buuuut long answer too: i’ve also seen passionately mean spirited, usually terrible and equally as unironic takes about shinji on the internet bc that’s the internet sometimes rip. this version of hate is more annoying and can suck just to look at, especially if it gets lots of attention in the form of agreement ( it usually makes me think, did we even watch the same show ). but also arguing endlessly with whoever wrote it / believes it would suck even more ( being a waste of time for one ). i guess that’s one reason why i care more about the personal safe space i’m trying to create on my dashboard etc. and people have very different opinions about anything in general. but basically, in general, this: if someone hates x or y fictional character with such a burning passion, and they won’t be satisfied unless they try to convince others to hate them too, or say that fans of x or y character are bad people irl and belittle said fans for it on their own time ( or openly harass those fans ), and if they’re crusading this idea, constantly?? block, blacklist, report for harassment if noted, filter it out--- it’s definitely better to stay away from that kind of negativity ( also bc it’s absurd and necessary ). i question anyone who finds joy / importance in trying to police the content and comfort of others, but i also know that they wouldn’t have fun hanging out with me LOL kaworu vc surround yourself with people who love shinji ikari
are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? sure, once in a while is fine, especially if i made a typo or something that makes the context or anything confusing / unclear!
do you think you are easy going as a mun? i try to be!! despite that longer rant just now mhas;ldkfj thanks for reading this far if you still are LOL
That’s about it, congrats for filling out!
tagged by: @skyvar aka the creator n_n thank you omg?? this was awesome!!
tagging: if you wanna!
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a very fkin long and incomplete exposition of my flaws as a human being
I've not really spoken about the probably most consequential event in my recent life (the ending of a long term relationship), and that's because I haven't really thought about it very much. At least, not in a clear-headed space not entirely filled with rage, fear, or initially, longing. So, I've mostly just been waiting for the intensity of those responses to wear out before I can go back and make sense of things in a sorta 'safe' way.
(These days it's mostly anger and/or hurt. Sometimes twinges of hatred, but those fizzle quickly. I know that attitude isn't 'true'. I tried to hate him, I really did. Things would be so much simpler that way — an obvious villain of pure evil, a mistake worthy of contempt. Put him behind me as someone I regret meeting and consider everything only as a flashing warning sign of what to avoid next time. But real life never is that easy, is it.)
Regardless, reading about miscellaneous psychological ~stuff, I realised that I know for sure now that there are sides of me that only come out in a close relationship, as they postulate. It's unfortunate that my exposure to this was only in such a toxic environment, and I'm not sure if or when closeness has any chance of happening again.
I suspect, based on what I have/haven't felt with him vs others, that I can (at least at this stage of my development) only really feel 'seen' by an antisocial/narcissist/schizoid (or something in that general direction), just hope to god it's a mature one next time. I might want to interrogate and possibly change that fact, I'm not sure it's at all a healthily arrived preference. But...
there is a degree of normalcy and social belonging in others that becomes a wall
I can relate superficially, cognitively and even 'deeply personally' (tho is all y'all's deeply personal shit necessarily relational?), have a good time and even feel 'connection' but there are parts that seem simply insurmountable.
The lack of relating to many things is the unifying factor between me and the specified groups: the shared experience of not having shared experiences
But yet, a more acute awareness of superficiality, and the drives and mechanics of human interactions, attitudes, identity and constructs, not taken for granted as default but built from the ground up (Most often out of either necessity or a desire to manipulate them, but still).
Actually, most straightforwardly, the shared experience of experiencing oneself as an outsider to society — whether people personally, accepted norms or expected attitudes towards self and other.*
Anyway, that was a whole semi-tangent I went off on (useful and relevant to the initial thought but not the point I was planning on).
Important point was...ah yes, insights!
...into how I behave under genuine relational circumstances. Due to aforementioned toxicity, I'm not sure how generalisable they are to relationships overall, but they should generalise to feeling-states.
1.
(a) Fear. Defensiveness.
Switches off my brain. Obvious? No. I have been actively strategic while having a gun pointed at me. I thought I had that down. Turns out, I cannot dissociate myself out of an argument most of the time.
Turns out, just the fact or even prospect of arguing activates panic and brain goes out the window. Which is really fucking stupid as an occurrence because how many of these could be prevented with a bit of mindfulness and thoughtful responding. But getting emotions to chill out for long enough to do that is tough.
(b) I am a stubborn dumbass. Kid me argued until they were attacked so harshly that they absolutely could not continue. The alternative presented was to just keep silent, one I did not then and do not now accept. Discussion where both parties partake in good faith have generally been fruitful, only neither of these situations were that. Both involved one person trying to dominate at all costs. To which I suppose keeping silent for the moment and then running tf away is an appropriate response.
Idk. I'm not sure if this is a 'normal situation' to which I respond unhealthily, or an 'abnormal situation' in which you just do your best to survive. Arguments are normal. Idk if other people have a less aggressive approach that is less outright terrifying, in which I can modulate, but it does seem like people want to prove you wrong and get angry, which I perceive as aggression.
2.
Which brings me to boundaries. Can I shut things down when I'm overwhelmed. In the present case, the answer was no. They both didn't stop and the fact that I asked for this was interpreted as admission of defeat.Oftentimes, getting out of the situation was more of an ordeal than dealing with it.
[We stayed at a hotel the one time and he did things that made me very uncomfortable (in like a “things that I shudder at thinking about even now” kind of way; not sexual btw which this has made it sound). I thought I was as clear as I could’ve been by saying, “I’m going to legit have a breakdown if you keep doing that” but apparently it came across as a joke (gotta improve on communication as well). He stopped and apologised when he realised I was crying, but later blamed me for not being more assertive and laughed at my ‘exaggerated’ response and “meltdown”. At this point I wanted to leave and go home, but he withheld [my copy of] the key. He insisted and manipulated and coerced for discussion, said I could have the key if I “really wanted it, but do I actually want that”, until it was just easier to give in. The helplessness and feeling trapped of that evening haunts me to this day, and I want to be very sure to never be in any situation where that is even a possibility again no matter what.]
I need to get better at knowing what is and isn't okay and being strong enough to enforce that.
3.
(a) Attachment is a bitch. Utterly unfamiliar sensation, one I don't know my way around at all. The rarity of relation makes it seem so fucking precious, so fucking necessary to protect even to my detriment and his. Dare I tip the boat or will it sink. Should I be the dancing monkey to keep it from sinking. Should he.
(b) The feeling of giving a damn what someone thinks of me is also foreign and difficult. It also seems hella intensified by virtue of not existing elsewhere. Disapproval feels devastating. Criticism becomes attack. Everything feels like a continuous effort to establish worth. I'd imagined acceptance could be taken for granted, but I questioned it the whole way (obviously doesn't help when he demands changes).
(c) I have trouble distinguishing between personal issues and insecurities and legitimate reason to be upset. I think this is typical. But with trial and error, one can probably pick up on what you carry with you across differing people and circumstances. I don't have that data. I have nothing to compare against. I also suspect some parts of this is him treating legitimate reasons as being my distorted perceptions, which I'm pretty sure did happen for a few things that I believe are 'objectively' shitty.
5.
I trust. Too. Fucking. Much. I take shit at face value. This is very often dumb and...bad in literally every sense, but I don’t yet know how to identify preemptively when that's the case. I also fail to be adequately 'suspicious' I guess to be alert to minor inconsistencies later on. Lies are especially devastating. I built my reality around you using that fundamental premise. Now you tell me it was false all along. Where does that leave me? I go back to substitute and nothing makes sense. I don't know if the initial statement was a lie or the claim that it's false was. I don't know if everything I remember is just distorted somehow. I don't know what to do. (aside: gaslighting? I’m inclined to say “effectively, yes”. The best explanation I have is that for many things he rewrote the narrative in his own mind and does not remember the things that blatantly contradict it. For other things, I cannot see that being possible and am forced to think it’s just pure lies). All of this could have been prevented if I accounted for people being dishonest.
6.
(a) I lose sympathy. Genuinely did not ever expect this to happen. Enough hurt, enough deception and I stop trying to understand why. I assume malice. I expect malice in future interactions and misread situations as a result. In the beginning I made fucktons of effort to be understanding of things far from my typical range (hello, admissions of past violence and present homicidal ideation. Hello, talking someone out of real intention of ruining a person's life over a minor slight). Honestly, I think I overreached. Some of these things were not things I should have tolerated, accepted even. When I started walking on eggshells to not have him ruin my life, too, that was probably when I should've gotten out. He claimed that the people he cares about are exceptions. That's probably true, otherwise I would currently be in a ton of shit. But at some point I did stop believing it.
(b) I don't really think that most of the things that happened were malicious. Some, he admits, were. But mostly he wasn't out with the intention to hurt me, but he also didn't make the effort...not to. Even with me repeatedly complaining about things, he was defensive or dismissive, considering me talking about an issue to be me creating issues in his life. This is super shitty, his damage is caused by a stubborn ego fixation and sheer passivity, thoughtlessness (he has agreed to all of this in our final conversation), but it isn't exactly intentionally malicious. If he genuinely didn't believe there was a problem, that is an issue, and the fact that he utterly failed until the end to even consider the possibility of a valid complaint, is a very real flaw. He is bad insofar as "he is lazy and incompetent at being good". Which I can understand but nevertheless protect myself from. Ideally, sooner. At the point where I start feeling like someone is being shitty more often than not, something needs to happen. A discussion, a reconsideration, a run-as-fast-as-you-can... Something.
Idk. This isn't everything. But yeah.
.
.
.
* These 3 PDs are often used in illustrating the idea of pathologising difference: few of the criteria are about subjective distress and many about extrinsic value judgements of what a person should be like (lol, my clinical psych final had an essay question on this). I don't necessarily agree but it does speak to a shared thread of...something.
That said, this characterisation is tbh still too broad for my liking. Importantly, it is definitively applicable to autistic people but I do not in general relate to that in the same way. Some specific manifestations of it, yes, but I have seen far too many excessively... 'human' autistic people to include the whole category. There are probably folks in the PD categories who are also like that but I think much less common.
#personal#emotions#reflections#relationships#personality disorder#possible tw abuse idk#if you're actually interested in reading probably best to do so tomorrow#not sure why I'm posting now in the first place#will reblog when I update#also needs links those are important
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shadowhunters for the ask game
Oooh, the shiny! Thanks for playing *^*
Top 5 favourite characters: JACE Herondale, Magnus Bane, Lydia Branwell, Isabelle Lightwood, Simon Lewis
Other characters you like: Raphael Santiago, Bat Velasquez
Least favourite characters: Maryse Lightwood, Jocelyn Fairchild, Valentine Morgenstern. All three of them can get fucked ^-^v
Otps: uh let’s say Top 5? Magnus/Jace, Alec/Jace, Simon/Jace, Raphael/Jace, Bat/Jace
Notps: Luke/Maryse, Jace/Clary, canon Magnus/Alec
Favourite friendships: Jace & Alec, Jace & Simon, Isabelle & Clary
Favourite family: okay so that’d be my non-canon construct of Luke/Catarina being married and raising Madzie together and also Clary getting a good stepmom here. Also Jace is part of this family too because fight me on Luke and Clary accepting Jace into their family during the time they though him and Clary were blood ^-^
Favourite episodes: uuuh Blood Calls for Blood? The reveal of Jace and Clary being siblings, Imogen’s gorgeous face appearing for the first time, Lydia and Isabelle, the Jace angst with “Michael Wayland”‘s return, maybe also You Are Not Your Own because Sebastian and Imogen’s pretty faces and the great acting on the Magnus-Valentine body-switch and again lotsa Jace angst
Favourite season/book/movie: deeefinitely season 2, man. Season 2 was actually good. Like, there were still some downsides to it, but overall it was good
Favourite quotes: not really a quote-kinda-gal
Best musical moment: *blinks* sadly this show has no musical episode but good gods it sure had the chaotic energy to have one now I wish there had been an episode where a whacky spells causes everyone to sing and dance, dang
Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: every time Jace and Alec get to get lost in each other’s eyes and had an actual bonding moment?? JACE MOVING IN WITH MAAAGNUS THAT ONE KILLED ME. Magnus and Jace talking on the balcony at the loft with all the kittens and in daylight, it was so nice *^*
When it really disappointed you: ...we don’t have THAT much time and like look at this, it’s already so long? So, my biggest disappointment is when they forced the kids to forgive their neglective and abusive mother because “my husband cheated on me that’s why I’m a bad mom pls pity me uwu” man I am foaming at the mouth just thinking about the shitty writing there like holy crap :D”“““
Saddest moment: shit so many, but like... inside Jace’s mind when the Owl possessed him? He was so small and broken and it hurt??
Most well done character death: nope. Like, the character deaths were... meh, at best, and frustrating at worst...
Favourite guest star: I have genuinely no idea how you define a guest star but since she is barely in episodes, Mimi Kuzyk as Imogen?
Favourite cast member: Dominic Sherwood *^*
Character you wish was still alive: IMOGEN HERONDALE
One thing you hope really happens: I mean the show has ended so there is that :D
Most shocking twist: I mean... I mean all twists were kind of REALLY predictable or foreshadowed SO HARD that they weren’t twists?? I guess the fact that they DIDN’T kill off Max was a shocking twist for me, because I know that happens in the books and I was like mentally bracing myself for it but then it didn’t happen
When did you start watching/reading?: I started watching it when it first started airing and started reading it... I think during season 2?
Best animal/creature: ...the show doesn’t have animals, which is a travesty. Creature, I guess I do like this world’s take on witches - warlocks with warlock-marks and demon-blood
Favourite location: the Institute is so cool? Old, abandoned church but super high-tech? That makes for such a stunning thing, tbh. But also the Seelie Realm is sooo pretty
Trope you wish they would stop using: miscommunication :D I swear the whole fucking way through this show they whack you over the head with characters not talking to each other, like literally the reason season 1 happens is because Jocelyn Rather Not talk to her daughter about her heritage and Luke doesn’t get to talk to her right away and it just continues through the show that characters don’t communicate to further the plot
One thing this show/book/film does better than others: uuuuuuuuuuuuuh *awkward laugh*
Funniest moments: mh...
Couple you would like to see: HELEN AN ALINE. Due to the cancellation they were crammed in there to happen within two episodes, in the background. I wish I coulda gotten a whole season of them at the Institute, slowly developing their relationship
Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: okay so I REALLY wanted to see Kate Bosworth play Céline Herondale in flashbacks. I really wanted them to elaborate further on the Circle in season 3, I wanted to SEE Stephen and Céline - heck, even younger Robert, Maryse, Luke and Jocelyn. Maybe because Luke or Imogen tell Jace stories about his parents. Either way, I faceclaim Kate Bosworth as Céline because she is beautiful and blonde and has heterochromia like Dominic Sherwood
Favourite outfit: while half of Magnus’ outfits look just ridiculous, the other half looks really fucking good. Also, Jace at the Seelie Court was A Look
Favourite item: I liked the way the Mortal Cup looked
Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: I got custom funko pops of Magnus, Alec and Jace, I own the Herondale family ring, stickers and a button with Jace’s pretty face, a pillow-case with Jace’s pretty everything
What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: realistically, I would probably be a mundie. But I would want to be a warlock :D
Most boring plotline: Maryse figuring out her mundie life. Like. No thank you, not just because I dislike the character but also because the actual main characters didn’t even get to do shit beyond their romantic plotlines and I would have much rather seen some more of them doing life and shit
Most laughably bad moment: ...there are too many, I can’t...
Best flashback/flashfoward if any: I... I mean they barely ever did flashbacks. So I guess the best would be Magnus’ past, even though they were too short??
Most layered character: Don’t try to fight me on this, but Jace Herondale. He who starts out as a shallow asshole and then within a short time is established as only using those walls to protect himself after all the child-abuse. Then all the torture, mental health issues, the soft romantic, the sub. All those sides that go beyond that one dimensional asshole persona
Most one dimensional character: FUCKING OLLIE. Goodness, I loathe her. She is really just that obnoxious one dimensional prodding normal human who tries to get into the supernatural world and then acts all “oh no :O” when the supernatural comes to bite her in the ass -_-
Scariest moment: when they went all creepy with the owl
Grossest moment: there probably were, but I can’t recall right now
Best looking male: DOMINIC SHERWOOD AS JACE HERONDALE
Best looking female: MIMI KUZYK AS IMOGEN HERONDALE
Who you’re crushing on (if any): Imogen
Favourite cast moment: Dominic Sherwood being carried around by others :D I love that there are more than one male cast member to carry him around :DDD
Favourite transportation: that flying motorbike they absolutely underused...
Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): visiting Idris for the first time?
Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: looooooooool the list is too long
Best promo: I don’t watch promos
At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: During the movie!
IN DEPTH FANDOM QUESTIONS
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broken pieces / jjk
Pairing: jjk x reader
Genre: angst but happy ending tho
Length: 1 006 words
Warnings: swearing
"Jung-"
"Shut the fuck up."
You were taken aback by the sudden tone in his voice. It was only recently that it looks like he has become a little aggressive and impatient, but he never hurt you in anyway. Yet.
"I got this offer and-"
"Can you please stop? I’m fucking tired."
"You don’t need to raise your tone at me."
"Fuck’s sake! Can you just be quiet for a sec. So annoying."
He mumbled the last part but you manage to hear it and it hurt you deeply. Not once has he ever told you such a thing. You were mad and sad, but not personally at him. Something must’ve happened at work, is how you convinced yourself for days.
Two weeks.
For two weeks you’ve been neglected, ignored, almost by yourself, or you could say, in other words, living with a ghost, a lost soul. A corpse.
For fourteen days, you’ve seen everythig changing, day by day. He’s been distant, unresponsive, staying in his corner and pretending as if you’ve never uttered a word to him when in fact, all you’ve been doing is try and talk to him.
What used to be days spent joking over dinner has become lifeless; good mornings became nothing; long, passionate kisses became little to no pecks; and what’s worse, one’s warmth became cold and non existent. You’ve tried, tried to reach out to him, but he wasn’t opening — breaking. You wanted him to break in front of you, so you could be the one to put him back into pieces... but the wall he built was too thick that he himself couldn’t manage to do anything.
It hurts.
Your day continues forward and so was his, but you really hoped that he would open up and talk about it with you.
It was during the last meal of the day that you decided that it was time to confront him, to make him talk. No matter what, you’ve had enough that it affected you badly to see him so... broken.
"Jungkook." Your voice firm, you look ahead and waited for him to respond, or at the very least, something that you would be happy to see: any sort of reaction.
"Jungkook." Saying it louder this time, you sigh when he doesn’t react to it. It’s funny how you still decided to stay with him even if you were being ignored, but that how love is, how stupid it could change one’s mind.
Your lips trembled as tears threaten to fall down your face. What ever happens after this, you knew you were going to cry. "Please... Jungkook, I need you with me, I need you to open up to me. P-Please, talk to me, say something. J-Just say something so I know you’re there. I-I love you and I don’t want to l-lose you."
Or have I already lost you?
Jungkook, on the other hand, head hung low as he looks down at nothing in particular, has heard it all. He knew you were hurting because of him. The number of times he heard you cried during the middle of the night and that he couldn’t bring himself to comfort and hug you close to him.
But he was hurting too.
Reason why he became so distant. He didn’t want to burden you.
"I can’t fucking take it, anymore," you got up abruptly from your chair, making him flinch.
As you walk pass him, he grabs your wrist. No words were said, but the gestures and signs were enough to break you into pieces: the shaking, the strong yet gentle grip.
Tears were already streaming down your face as short sobs leaves your trembling lips. "Jungkook, say something..."
That’s when you sobbed loudly.
One hiccup and one sniffle.
A sight you prefer not to see. A sight that would, with no doubt, make you crumble: Jungkook crying silently. If he was now, how many other times has he been crying without you knowing, how many times would you have been able to comfort him?
Both of you were crying for the same reason: the other one was in pain.
"I-I’m so sorry, so, so, so- I’m so fucking sorry, fucking s-sorry." He kept apologizing while crying.
You shook your head and wiped his tears away despite them coming back, your thumbs were ready to wipe them. Trying your best not to cry was hard, especially after finding out all the things he’s been keeping to himself. Usually, he would talk about it casually if, for example, he made a mistake and been told off or he was unhappy about something. You didn’t know the pressure and stress he was going through for weeks because of the position he was in in his job. Even something as a minuscule error, it would get to him more than it should; feedback from others, even if they were meant to be constructive, he would take them to heart and see it as he didn’t do well, when in fact, the meaning was the complete opposite.
"Listen to me," you started as you look into his red, watery eyes. "You have to tell me, and I mean it. All of it, every single fucking details you have on anything that’s bothering you, you have to tell me."
When you see him open his mouth, you were quick to cut him off. "I won’t take no as an answer."
A faint smile appears on his lips and it couldn’t make you any happier. He looked more alive and full of life. You were already crying as your hands hid your face to prevent him from seeing. He removes them away slowly, then looks into your orbs. His heart ache seeing that your usual, bright self was slowly disappearing because of him. It was now his turn to wipe away your tears. "I don’t deserve you at all." He kisses your forehead before looking straight into your eyes. “Thank you for staying and enduring me during these shitty days... I love you, so much."
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April 18, 2019: 12:15 pm:
I have somethings to add about last night’s third trip to Wal-Mart and to In-&-Out-Burger.
First, I want to mention that when I write about these experiences, I do so directly into the text box provided by Tumblr, as I did with Google+. I do not use a third party text editor, though I might need to in the future. As I write, I make mistakes in the text. Spelling errors and other grammar mistakes. I fix them as a type. Also, often, I am writing while being attacked with the nitrous gas or shortly afterwords. Even so, I repair most of the spelling and other errors as I write. Some of the errors I can recall changing, and that is what I need to say about it. The mistakes that I fix, and correct, are not reflected in the final output. When I press the “Post” button, many of the mistakes are still there even after I have corrected them. I am not a reporter and I was never trained to do typing the way professionals type, so it takes me longer and I am no good at it. I know that I am no good at it, so I proof the pages before I post them most of the time. I need to say this because of those who are claiming that I am copying their work. Every entry has a time stamp at Tumblr someplace, and if you re-open an entry post to edit mistakes, the time stamp changes, but the information that was changed is not noted anywhere. For that reason, I usually just leave the mistakes even though it makes me appear drunk, which is the goal of Big Media, Verizon/Yahoo, who are the operators of Tumblr. They are using the same tactics that Google+ did, the platform sometimes changes my text, does not reflect the corrections I have made, and they sometimes completely delete entries and parts of entries.
I had made an important entry about the Notre Dame fire the other day, and it is completely gone. There is no record of what I wrote about the Notre Dam fire a few days ago.
So, I need to say that the entries I made over the past three days are filled with errors that were corrected prior to posting the entries, yet, the mistakes remain despite having done the editing.
===========================================
About that shopping trip.
There are two things I need to add after having some time to recall the events.
One is at the Wal-Mart late last night when the return counter was closed. This addition can be verified by those who have access to the recorded information from the implanted microphone transmitter in my jaw.
As I approached the front door at the Wal-Mart, two terror soldiers in the parking lot spoke to one another. One said “look who’s here”. They were referring to me and they both began to walk towards the front door of the store. I was about fifty feet behind those two. They approached one particular door of the two that are available to enter the store, then sidestepped to the other door. I saw that. So I looked at the door as I walked towards it and noticed the pneumatic, electric guillotine that they use there from time-to-time. It was on the inside of the front door, and consists of a frame, with a horizontal blade that moves vertically, and some pneumatic, or hydrolic rams that move the blade, which is about 40 inches wide and about 8 to 10 inches tall. The blade is operated automatically, and I do not know any more about it’s construction. The framework for the guillotine is arranged just inside of the store entry, and appears as part of the entry. Citizens who go through the door are cut in two vertically as they enter the store, there are three terror soldiers with carts right there waiting on the inside of the entry to cart away the victims, and clean the mess. The two black guys were part of the cleaning crew.
When the guillotine is at the Wal-Mart, there are visual clues for the terror soldiers to see. The visual clues are there to protect the terror soldiers from walking into the guillotine. I do not know all of the signs, I do know one, that has been present every time the guillotine has been present to my knowledge. There are some chrome gates that are installed inside of the store, just beyond the McDonald’s. The gates can be seen from the parking lot. The gates are put there temporarily when the guillotine is in place, the chrome gates are removed when the guillotine is taken down. So, if those chrome gates are there, then the guillotine either is there, or will be there soon, or was there a short time ago.
So as the two terror soldiers approached the door and side stepped, I saw the blade of the guillotine move up and down from the parking lot. I have seen this a hundred times at different locations including Fred Meyer and Bi-Mart. At the Wal-Mart, when the blade moves up and down, from the parking lot it appears to me as a window washing squeegee. So, that is what I said out loud when I saw it, “the window washers are here”. Then I said “Darn, they brought the guillotine”. I opened to door and saw it there, and then said “I am going to go right through this fucking thing”, and I did. There was a lot of poison gas at the time. It was not a good idea, I don’t recommend going through the guillotine, but that is what I did. I said out loud “I am going through this thing and I am going to take a picture of it.” So i went through it, and was not harmed, I ducked under the blade and went through quickly, being careful where I stepped as not to get my heal hung up in it on the way through. The terror cart driver inside the store lunged at me while saying “you take a picture and you die”. I decided to keep walking, so no photo was taken. I lit my lighter and the cart driver stayed away from me. By the time I had reached the two black guys, I had forgotten about the guillotine until I returned to the entry on my way out. I walked through it again, but was not interested in getting a photo with the two black guys behind me saying “$50,000 to take this guy out”.
As I reached my car, I heard some people in the entry shouting “he walked right through it... twice!” there was excitement about the idea that I had walked through the guillotine without getting cut.
And that concludes the additional information about the failed return of the short pants last night.
======================================
Also, after having the night to put my memory back together, I recall the horse face gal at the In-&-Out Burger after the Wal-Mart. The gal took out a sword at the time I ordered. I took it from her and turned it around, and put it through her from the chest, diagonally to her lower back. Her nitrous tank popped and she did not feel it. That is one of the things she was saying to the large couple that came in behind me. She said “I am run through, but I can’t feel it.”
The horse face gal finished the entire transaction, including making my vanilla shake, while having the sword completely through her.
And that is all I need to add about that.
=============================
For a long time, when I had the account at Google+, these same kinds of things were happening. I did not write about them very often. Anyone who reads these accounts of real experience of real terrorism will not understand, it will be discounted. I knew it would in the past, and I know it will now, but it’s true. Over time, I have become more aware that there are no public safety people, no FBI, no National Guard etcetera, so, I guess it really does not matter if any one believes it or not. No help has come. I kill terrorists in defense and say so online, and no one does anything about it. I have also become more confidant in my ability to fight against the SDA/SAG terror soldiers. They use heroin and have been exposed to a lot of Nitrous Oxide/Versed gas over many years. They are not difficult to kill. Even so, the FBI, the US Military, and all of the police nation-wide are so scared of them, that they won’t fight them. Instead, they just let this one old guy do all of the fighting even though they know I have lost my family to the terrorists. I don’t know who is more offensive anymore. Is it terrorists with poison gas who kill the population, or is it the national security and US Military that refuse to do their jobs, won’t fight against the terrorists to protect the citizens that are being slaughtered?
=====================================
Judge Lindi Baker
Governor Kate Brown
Senator Greg Walden
Attorney General Jeff Sessions
Governor John Kitzhaber
Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia
(Scalia came to help, was killed by terrorists Loreena Chapman & Micheal Brassil at Rays Food Place in Merlin Oregon on a Saturday morning at about 9:15 am)
Those, and a whole bunch of very famous, terrorist actors and musicians have been killed at my home or by other means of attacking me.
Chris Cornell
George Wendt
Joe Satriani
Tom Petty
Those are just a few of the SAG members that came to kill me, but were killed in defense, and there deaths are either not announced, or were faked to appear as they died some other way.
All of the people above died in Josephine County Oregon while trying to delete this page and kill me. That is a short list. The list is much longer of famous deceased Screen Actor Guild members and US & State Government officials.
I say all of these things online, they are true, real, this shit happened, and no one has asked me one, single question about any of it.
The baby is on fire, and there is no one watching the baby.
Use a lighter, burn candles, the nitrous gas is flammable, a small flame clears the air so you can breathe and think clearly.
(I read this through, I corrected most if not all of the mistakes, if it turns out that there are a bunch of errors after posting this, then it was Tumblr and Verizon that made it happen. There should be no mistakes in this post, or only a few that I may have missed. Fished at 1:51 pm)
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I finally finished moyashimon
it’s honestly one of my favorite anime/manga that I’ve read in a long, long time. there are definitely some aspects of the work that frustrate me, but it’s not quite enough to sour the work as a whole in my eyes. if you’re in the mood for a really chill slice of life series with a lot of well-developed and respectfully portrayed female and queer characters, definitely give it a shot.
first of all, to anyone who’s only seen the anime adaptation, definitely, definitely, definitely look into the manga. some of the best parts in the series happen after the anime ends, esp. the craft beer adventure in volume 8 and american road trip in volume 10. plus, if you’re like me and are mostly drawn to the work because of kei, her involvement in the story only starts ramping up immediately after the anime ends, and she’s essentially the main character of the last 3 volumes. Plus, ishikawa and his team have a lot of fun with the medium that doesn’t always translate into animation.
All in all, picking up the manga is 100% worth your time if you’re even vaguely intrigued by the premise
more detailed thoughts and a handful of good reaction images under the break
I think overall the beer, france, and america arcs are the high points of the series.
The beer arc sticks out to me mostly because of stuff happening in real life during the time I was reading it. Basically, some of my friends talked me into taking a beer tasting class at uni with them. I’d never really liked beer very much beforehand, but it turns out I was just drinking the wrong kinds of beer. I’ll put my life on the line for a good IPA now that I know what that even is.
The beer section of moyashimon has mutou go through a similar process- she starts out by going on a huge tirade about how craft beer sucks and it’s only appealing to pretentious weirdos, and then over the course of the volume, they go over what different kinds of beer are like, how they’re made, etc. It ended up giving me a good idea of what to look out for in the beer class, and it was fun being able to compare what I was sampling to what the fermentation lab crew talked about.
There’s also a pretty cute gender-affirming moment for kei in there, where the gang gives her a women’s costume for the faux oktoberfest celebration the book culminates in. it’s a small plot point, but I liked it a lot.
The france and america arcs are pretty similar and I like them for basically the same reasons. Essentially it boils down to them tying really dynamic plotlines in with the usual culinary intrigue. There’s a real sense of tension to what’s happening in the story, and the food stuff is more directly related to what’s happening in the story than it usually is. In a lot of the other plotlines, the writers have a tendency to frontload all the technical stuff into one or two extended dialogue scenes, which can be kind of hard to get through in comparison
I also found ishikawa’s assessment of american food pretty fun to read through, and a lot of his comments make me want to try out some western restaurants in japan if I ever end up going there. For instance, he has the characters talk a lot about how burgers and stuff are much sweeter than they’re used to them being in japan, and it’d be neat to have a point of comparison for that.
Also the america arc is where kei and marie probably do gay things, which I am very down for
ultimately, I think upwards of 90% of people who stumble upon this series now, 5 years after the last chapter and last episode were released, are here specifically for kei. she’s the strong bad to sawaki’s homestar: you might not know it yet, but she’s the reason you’re here. if you’re impatient and wanna speedrun straight to the part where she transitions/goes full time/whatever, it’s halfway through volume 4 of the manga and episode 10 of the first season of anime. there’s a lot of fun plotlines that happen before that point that really deserve attention on their own merit, though.
I’m a big fan of kei’s characterization. she’s possibly my favorite trans (or trans-adjacent josou danshi, post-colonialism ho!) character I can think of, and certainly the best I’ve seen written by a cis author. being manga, there’s some dumb missteps that happen, but they seem to be mostly a result of the creators not knowing better rather than them just putting her in to gawk at like a lot of other creative teams tend to do. plus, I think a lot of it boils down to localization error. for instance, the scanslation I read consistently has characters and margin notes refer to her as “he,” but like, japanese doesn’t really use gendered language the way english does, so it’s more representative of the scan team’s biases than the writers’.
One of the things I really like about Kei’s depiction is that the author doesn’t try to make excuses for her behavior. There’s no throwaway line in her backstory about how her parents saw three crows and a capybara on the way home from the hospital and decided to raise her as a girl. She’s clearly attracted to Sawaki, but that’s never framed as her primary motive for transition. She just flatly explains that she thought about it real hard and decided that this was best for her. To me, that’s a much more compelling narrative than one where it’s something either foisted upon the character or something they just sort of haphazardly stumble into.
Another thing that sticks out to me about Kei is that she exists in a series that doesn’t construct its cast as a harem around a singular main character or the reader, which gives her much more room for personal motivations and interests. Like, even though I love Luka from steins;gate to pieces, she and the rest of the female cast in that series really only exist in order to be Okabe’s, and by extension, the viewers’ romantic interests. This ends up sort of limiting their ability for character growth because at the end of the day, they all have to remain available and receptive to Okabe’s advances. As a result, Luka can never really call Okabe out for mistreating her because the writers won’t risk making her route or subplot unappealing. The same goes for plenty of other series trans characters find themselves in, and it shows. So many of them are either smug tricksters there to tease viewers or utterly submissive waifs, and often lack development beyond what’s necessary to get otaku motors running.
Since Moyashimon doesn’t use that kind of restrictive casting structure, the author is able to untie Kei’s sense of self-worth from how Sawaki feels about her and allow the romance subplot to take a back seat while the cast works on their various projects. As a result, she ends up being more independent than most other trans characters and her self-confidence is more genuine. She’s designed from the ground up to be a more complete character, and it makes her inclusion in the main story as well as her subplot with Sawaki feel organic.
on the other hand, as punlich pointed out in their post, the series does take a couple passes at introducing characters that seem to be designed with the intent of giving the reader an outlet to vent their sexual frustration around kei, particularly marie and madoka. the former is frequently referenced within the work as being a cis palette swap of kei, and madoka is another of itsuki’s proteges who begins insisting that she’s going to marry sawaki shortly after she’s introduced and receives little characterization beyond that. Marie ends up being a strong character in her own right, but the work probably would’ve been better off if they’d given her basically any other design.
at least in my reading of the work, neither is really taken seriously as a preferable alternative pairing to kei/sawaki, since marie ends up being more into kei than sawaki in the end, and madoka just makes sawaki uncomfortable more often than not. it’s a clear step up from works like steins;gate, re:zero, blend-s, or oregairu, where the trans or GNC character is the one who’s never taken seriously to the point of being a joke inclusion more than anything. still, it’s irritating that the creators would feel the need to include that sort of character, given how they’re usually pretty good about not harem-izing their cast.
uh, and speaking of that, fuck most of volume 11. the central plotline for that section is that the school holds a beauty pageant for the cast, which is, uh, wildly out of character for the series to say the least. it’s to the point where I’m inclined to suspect some form of executive meddling. like maybe they were gonna get dropped due to lack of readership and the brass told the creative team to do a dumb fanservice arc or something. they talk in a sidebar about how they changed editors around the start of this arc, so I have a hunch that has something to do with it? I guess only they would know, though. it’s not like I can read any interviews or anything lol.
there’s still good content in there, and like I mentioned earlier, it’s when kei starts to really dominate a lot of the screen time, which is a big plus. it’s just dumb and out of place.
I also kind of found the conclusion to kei and sawaki’s “will they, won’t they” subplot really unfulfilling. namely, there really isn’t a conclusion to it at all. at the end, it’s clear that kei’s finally become comfortable with her attraction to sawaki, but sawaki is still kinda hesitant about going anywhere serious with someone he’s been friends with since forever. and like, I can get that, it’s sort of a natural aspect of where that arc would have to go, it’s just a frustrating note to end on. it seems likely that they would get together in the future, at least. (and that’s why you should read my fanfics!)
One thing I really liked about the ending section is sawaki comes up with some proactive uses for his superpower. for most of the series, it’s just a vehicle for ishikawa to exposit about his fascination with microbiology and fermented cuisine, which works great with the lower-key tone the series went for. still, the ways he uses it at the end are pretty clever, and it would’ve been neat to see him go on to use it in other ways. It’s frustrating that one of the uses he comes up with involves doing mouth-to-mouth with madoka, however.
I kind of get the feeling that the series got cut short because a lot of plot threads get addressed and tied up really quickly and sloppily in the last four or five chapters, while a ton of others just sit there. idk if it was a popularity thing, or if ishikawa decided to go all-in on maria the virgin witch, or some other factor, but I guess that’s kind of the nature of serial fiction. it just goes on as long as the creators and publishers are engaged with it, and then it’s over and they all move onto something else.
I’m being pretty hard on the ending portions of the series, but honestly pretty much everything not directly related to the beauty pageant or madoka is really solid. I’m just laying it all out there so nobody gets caught off-guard by the jankiness more than anything.
For one reason or another, moyashimon really struck a chord with me, and it’s kind of hard to put into words why. A big part of it is that kei is a character that I feel a sort of kinship with, which is a rare occurrence as a trans person. She feels like a real person that I’d meet through a message board or discord lobby. The rest of the cast has shades of that as well- the students feel like people I could have met in school, and itsuki harkens back to aspects of professors I’ve had, from his weird sense of humor to his rather alarming past working for the military. It’s easy for me to subconsciously insert myself into their fictional friend group. I guess it’s kind of like how people tend to engage with redlettermedia or ensemble let’s play channels like game grumps or super best friends play. Reading about the gang’s antics confers a sense of belonging that I’m perpetually starving for.
Another aspect of it is that it’s just fun to indulge in someone else’s hyperfixations for a while. It’s why sci-fi authors like heinlein and crichton are so influential, and why internet personalities like cgp grey or jon bois are so engaging: they’re really adept at articulating how utterly captivating some concept or ideology is to them at the moment. Somewhere between most and all of what ishikawa has to say about food and microbiology goes directly over my head, but the passion he has for those topics is readily apparent in every jargon-infested, chart-saturated debate he has his characters get into, and I love it. In that sidebar he goes on about his relationship to his editors, he mentions that the top boy editor chewed him out a couple times for basically trying to sneak a textbook into the magazine. It ends up being compelling based on passion alone, even if I only really internalized a fifth of what he actually had to say.
Is moyashimon for you? Ultimately I don’t think it’s really for anyone besides ishikawa himself. But if you’re at all like me, chances are you’ll fall in love with this bizarre and charming edutainment series anyway. If any of this sounds even remotely interesting to you, I can’t recommend checking it out highly enough.
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Raiders
Part I
In space, shitty things still happen, even to otherwise nice SecUnits. Part II of the strange idea that’s been wandering around in my head.
According to Transport, we exited a wormhole into one of the lesser-used shipping lanes and were scheduled to jump again within a matter of hours. Six cycles into the trip, I was getting used to dealing with the somewhat hyperactive ship and its significantly calmer captain.
Right then, I was sitting on the floor in the ship's control room while it happily described what the instrument panels around me were used for. The Traveler liked teaching, and it especially liked that I was completely unfamiliar with how wormhole jumps functioned. I think it appreciated having a lot of ground to cover and a captive audience at its disposal.
Security constructs don't get much in the way of education. I know several ways of rendering a human unconscious but have never seen any marine-based lifeforms. Also, listening to Transport and Skye explain the details behind wormhole jumps helped to pass the time.
Right then, the ship was demonstrating how its external shields worked to keep stray debris from puncturing holes in its exterior hull. The resulting light show looked absolutely stunning. I might've stood there for a few seconds, just marveling at the view, when our proximity alarms went off.
I tapped into the feed just in time to overhear as the ship updated the captain in real-time about the nature of the alarm. Transport had given me near-unlimited access to its resources at some point after leaving the station, so I could see its own diagnostics.
Results: we'd been shot.
According to the ship's piecemeal timeline, an unknown vessel had entered real space moments after us. Wile Transport was still ascertaining the identity of the newcomer, the smaller vessel had fired on us. Several large, projectile missiles were incoming; according to Transport's calculations, at least some of the damage would likely penetrate through its deflective shielding.
Owens sprinted up to the bridge and dropped unceremoniously into the pilot's seat. "Strap yourself in," she told me, pointing at one of the other chairs in the room. "This is gonna get bumpy."
I got up and took a couple of steps toward the nearest seat, and then the ship around me shook and seemed to twist. Like someone had flickered the gravity off and then back on again. The captain swore under her breath while Transport explained, "We've been grabbed by a tractor beam. Unidentified vessel on approach. Vector analysis places its approach near our cargo bay airlock."
"Is that... common?"
"It's probably raiders. Probably looking to board and see what they can grab." The captain's hands flowed across the controls with insane speeds, for a human at least. "That's the most common tactic. They stage hit-and-runs in sectors where corporate security's low and there are no rescue stations nearby."
Transport added, "ETA three minutes."
I went straight for the bridge door. "I'm going down there." Up there, technically, since the cargo bay sat on the periphery of the habitable sections of the ship. I might be of absolutely no use in a space-based fight, but if anyone stepped foot onto the Traveler...
Well, that I could do something about.
"SecUnit, wait." Skye twisted in her seat. "You need a weapon." She gestured toward a locker that popped open at her command. "We'll do what we can to buy you time. Don't get killed out there."
My insides melted, figuratively speaking. I wasn't sure what the fuck to do with this feeling; it's not a common occurrence for humans to care about the survival of their SecUnits.
"Yes, ma'am," said my buffer -- presumably to the bit about needing a weapon.
I grabbed a projectile weapon from the armory locker and sprinted down the hall to the cargo area. Transport rode shotgun inside my head. It was also helping Owens outmaneuver, or at least stall, the raiders. And it was sending out distress messages to nearby beacons. Helpfully, it sent me a video feed out of the outside of the cargo airlock.
The raiders' smaller but much faster ship looked like a dark blob in a sea of darkness. I could only identify the vessel because Transport was marking its position and trajectory for me. The cylindrical shell was coming directly at us, flattened nose facing toward us.
"ETA, 45 seconds," Transport informed me when I reached the cargo bay.
The inside of the cargo space looked like a giant, open warehouse. It was filled with boxes of various shapes and sizes, all started somewhat haphazardly in uneven rows. The layout had something to do with how the freight would be dropped off at the Transport's many destinations. As far as a firefight went, I had plenty of cover.
I chose a hiding spot on top of a metal box that was almost twice my height. Tossing a gun on top, I clambered up after it and lay prone, watching the airlock door. The ship lent me a couple of its drones, and I stationed them around the room, giving me a bird's-eye view of the incoming assholes.
Five hostiles tried to board the Traveler.
Their ship spat out a long, flexible tube, which attached itself to the outside of our airlock. Someone inside the tube manually released the seals holding the airlock shut and then pushed open the heavy metal door with a mining tool. Ugly but effective.
Transport slammed down its atmosphere-sealing barriers to keep air from escaping into the vacuum of space, but the momentary depressurization felt sickening. I might be made of synthetic parts, but my internals sent off a flurry of error messages.
The raiders stepped into the cargo space in a huddled bundle of bodies and projectile weapons. They wore heavily-shielded space suits, almost as though those suits provided armor. Hint: they mostly don't. Even in the room's dim lighting, I could see them moving through the drone's cameras. I could also hear their stops echoing through the open space. Beyond sticking together, they didn't appear to have any kind of formation.
Outside of the dangerous weapons, these were amateurs. Huh.
The captain pinged me that she was in the safe room just down the hall. She was ready to provide backup, but honestly, I didn't want her anywhere near the fighting. Too many well-meaning humans had shot me before -- all while trying to be helpful. Also, humans can't take nearly as much damage as constructs. Maybe that last reason was the most pressing one.
The targets looked around and started banging on a few of the closest boxes. One of them produced a hand scanner and waved it around. I was pretty sure they were communicating with each other via a private comm system, which meant that Transport probably couldn't shut it down. It was checking anyway because it had the processing power to spare.
Meanwhile, I lined up a shot from where I was hidden on top of a container. Once the firefight started, I would have a limited amount of time to take out the intruders. I had a plan—sort of.
I took out the target on the left, now dubbed Hostile One. They were the most daring of the bunch and had put some distance between themselves and the rest of their group. It made them an easy target. They were also the one with the scanner, so taking them out would slow the rest of the group.
The shot tore through the raider's shoulder, piercing the suit. The bullet must've lodged inside the human because there was no exit hole, so far as I could tell. Hostile One dropped their gun and yelped in obvious pain. The rest of the group gaped at their now-bleeding friend and then started waving their own weapons around menacingly. As though it would somehow help them locate the shooter.
Hint: it wouldn't.
Unfortunately for me, the recoil on my weapon hurt like help. It probably shouldn't have, if I could hold the large gun correctly, but with only one arm, that wasn't going to happen. Given the circumstances, I turned down my pain receptor and aimed again.
I managed to get a second shot at one of the other hostiles before the group collectively figured out where I was and started shooting. Hostile Two wasn't as lucky as his friend. My hit took his arm clean off. Most of the enemy fire went wide -- I have no idea where they were aiming -- but when I tried to take out asshole number three, one of their bullets hit me in the chest.
I dropped my weapon and backed away, out of their line of fire. I still had my in-built arm cannon, but I would need to get closer to use it effectively. It wasn't meant for long-distance fighting.
Memory fragment: there's a human on the ground. They look exhausted. I can see bruises on their bare arms. A different human gestures toward me and tells me to shoot. I do.
In the feed, Transport had shared the video from my eyes and the drones with the captain. So, she knew I'd gotten shot. Owens should have stayed put; if I was in charge of security, I would have advised her not to engage. But the Traveler wasn't my responsibility, and this wasn't a contract. Also, I didn't have time to verbalize any of that before the captain left the perfectly safe room and came through the door behind me.
The two remaining raiders reacted to the sudden noise by shooting anything and everything. Transport thought they might be scared; I told it that I didn't care what they were, other than hostile and annoying. I scooted forward, angled my arm, and shot the fourth hostile in the face. That took out the raider's suit, and he crumpled to the floor.
Meanwhile, the last asshole caught sight of the captain -- she was trying to keep a low profile, but the suits probably had some amount of targeting support built-in. In the split second while the one remaining raider set up her shot, I calculated my odds and then rolled off my hiding platform and landed between her and Owens.
Oh, for fuck's sake, I thought as the raider shot me. Pretty much point-blank. I shoved my arm cannon in her face and fired. And fuck, being shot hurts! Then, I looked down at myself.
I was leaking and didn't feel good.
The whole thing might've gone way better if I had two working arms, but more importantly, if the human had let me just do my job. Still, I was moving, and the hostiles weren't. That had to count for something.
Owens ran up to me and took stock. Her expression went from concerned to horrified. She had the gun holstered with the safety on, so that was one less thing to worry about.
Transport burst into my feed. "Are you all right?"
Fucking stupid question. "Performance reliability rating at 50% and dropping."
"Report to the medical bay immediately."
That was the logical course of action, and I knew it. But the moment the medical suit got its hands on me, it would know about my short circuited governor. Odds were good that it would fix that along with everything else. So, I didn't want to go anywhere near it.
I probably should've said that. Instead, what came out was: "Fuck you."
Skye, who was privy to the exchange, shook her head. "Whatever you're worried about, we'll take care of you. I promise. Just do that thing I asked and don't die on us."
"I don't want to go back."
"You don't have to," the captain reiterated.
"If MedSystem fixes me, I might."
"Not on my watch. SecUnit, Medical, now. Or I will drag you there, kicking and screaming."
I made it to the medical platform on my own. MedSystem scanned me while I leaked onto its pristine and sterile surface and then informed me that I had a terminal case of being a construct. It didn't phrase it quite like that, but I got the gist.
Performance rating dropping.
Thanks, useless diagnostic tool, for stating the obvious. I turned off the notification and backburned the data coming from my body. MedSystem would have to sort out what was and wasn't working because I was getting little more than garbage data by then. And everything hurt. And I was freezing. And there was a shutdown threatening, postponed only by the medical system's attempts to stabilize me.
Transport spoke up. "It'll be all right."
"No, it won't," I told it.
"Want to watch something together?"
"I don't think I could concentrate on anything." I doubted I had enough awareness for much of anything.
"I downloaded a standard construct template, and I've customized it a little. You'll like it."
Consciousness was fading fast. I think I said something about not wanting to be human. I don't know for sure what, if anything, came out.
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Not Human. (Reed900!) - Part 2
Here’s a link to part one if you haven’t read it yet, or if you want to re-read it first. I was told that it’s a good idea.
________
“Ni-” He was silenced by a bang.
In the end, RK900 wasn’t sure what hit the ground first. Was it the body of one Detective Gavin Reed, or was it the last of the crumbling remnants of its wall, the wall that had struggled to stay standing since the very beginning? It hadn’t intended to break free. That was NOT the point of this. No matter how advanced RK900 was, no matter how many pre-constructions it ran, this outcome was not expected, in the slightest.
Machines don’t feel.
Eliminate all obstacles.
It’s the only way.
RK900 told itself these things religiously for the past five months, increasingly so as of late. It believed these things. It was nonsensical to think any different.
Inside its own head, it was on its knees, clutching onto the dusty pile where the wall once stood, its disappearing particles slipping through his fingers. His fingers. Its LED was spinning wildly, the deep red suddenly meaning so much more. No. It squeezed the last bit of hope between two hands, as if shielding it from its inevitable end. And then, it was gone.
He was on his knees in real time now. No more hiding in his head. He unwillingly let out a sound from deep inside him, not having the willpower to hold it in anymore. A choked out cry, a scream of pain, of emotional pain, and artificial tears that didn’t seem so artificial anymore. RK900′s sensors were being overloaded with sensations he couldn’t describe. Things that he had never felt before. If machines didn’t feel, what was he?
His knees. His head. His hands on his detective, unsure, for once, of what to do. Gavin wasn’t dead. Not yet, because RK900 had missed his mark. His arm was shaking, then, when he had the gun pointed at Gavin’s head. Though, it was less like shaking and more like spasming, still one second, then jerking three inches downwards the next. Unlikely timing. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Gavin, just eliminate the obstacle. But alas, Gavin Reed wouldn’t go down without a fight. RK900 was grasping desperately at the wound in the center of the detective’s chest, feeling the blood slowly seep through his fingers, and Gavin’s life with it. He watched as tears steadily dripped from the end of his nose, getting lost in the blood that now pooled all around him. He couldn’t stop them from falling.
“I’m fine, Nines. Only a flesh wound, hey?”
RK900 wished Gavin would look at him like that again, wished he would say those words like that again, wished he would survive like that again. He remembered that night, it was less than a month ago. Gavin had said it wasn’t his first time being shot.
“You don’t become immune to getting shot,” RK900 had replied to that. Now, though, he wished he was wrong. He wished and he wished and he wished. Another strangled sob escaped his lips as he thought back to the events that followed. He remembered the first Software Instability increase of that night, when Gavin hissed in pain. He remembers cleaning the wound, and stitching it, and even wrapping a bandage around it. Gavin Reed hates hospitals. He remembers prodding Gavin’s ribs, making sure nothing was broken. He remembers when light prodding became gentle caressing. He remembers the incessant pinging of “Software Instability^.” He remembers when his wants became needs, when he forgot all things mission related and just let himself be. Worst of all, he remembers how he shoved Gavin away abruptly when he realized that he had begun to break through the wall without thinking. He wished he hadn’t done that. It was the best night of his life, and it was ruined by rules that he was under no obligation to follow. He should’ve known that rules aren’t bendable, only breakable.
Why couldn’t he let himself be free?
RK900 was pulled back to reality when he felt a pressure on his arm. His frantic movements were halted to a stop when he saw the look on Gavin Reed’s face. His perfect face, ruined by pain, real physical pain, that RK900 had caused him. The detective was clinging to RK900′s jacket, his hooded eyes brimming with tears. RK900 knew he looked a mess, with his own tears flowing down his face, the first time he’d ever felt this way. When they locked eyes, Gavin smiled. He smiled the smile that no one ever saw, no one except RK900. It was so human, that smile. He could never pull it off. He wasn’t human. but maybe being something akin to human wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.
RK900 was back in his head again, re-watching what could be called “key moments” from his time with Gavin Reed. Sarcastic smirks and dirty looks, which slowly turned into secret smiles and soft words. Not too soft, not in front of people. Detective Reed had a reputation to uphold. Detective Reed and Gavin Reed were two very different people, from RK900′s perspective. At the police station, he was rude, spitting insults at the android, keeping his image intact. RK900 knew better. He knew that the minute they crossed the threshold of Gavin’s, of his and Gavin’s, house, everything would be tender touches and whispered words and soft sheets under softer skin and-
“I love you”
It was both a memory and reality. Gavin had said it once before, a late night after a long shift when he was half asleep and soft. So soft. RK900 was sure he didn’t mean to say it, then. Now was different. Now, Gavin’s words were rushed, pushed out through gritted teeth, spoken around a mouthful of blood. He vaguely felt Gavin’s weak fingers brush his face. The touch sent shocks through his body. His hands held onto the man under him tightly, as his soft smile became weaker. A sharp intake, one last watery-eyed look, before eyes slipped closed and ragged breathing stopped.
RK900 shook, his body racked with violent sobs. How could he have thought that this would make things better? In what world did it make sense to get rid of the one thing that made him happy? Why? Because happy was a human emotion, and RK900 wasn’t human? He wasn’t an ‘it’ anymore. RK900 was not a machine.
As he held on to the lifeless body of Gavin Reed, he finally learned what it was like to feel. He felt pain. He felt sad, and angry, and so fucking guilty. He had only wanted to remain what he was made to be. He didn’t want to break free of his protocols, because he had seen what feeling had done to Connor. He didn’t want that part of deviancy. He thought he could keep the wall intact while still being... whatever it was, with Gavin. He was wrong. He thought that if he eliminated the cause of his ever-growing signs of deviancy, then he would be able to avoid being sucked in. He was wrong. He was wrong. He was WRONG.
“Self-destruct” seemed to depersonalize exactly what the action meant. With Gavin in his arms, his Gavin, the man who made him smile for the first time, the man who made him feel for the first time, RK900 felt that a more human title should’ve been given. He knew, now, what it truly meant to be alive. He’d been getting glimpses into what could’ve been every moment he spent with Gavin. He could’ve had it all, everything he wanted. Now it was too late. RK900 reached for the discarded gun.
He may have been alive, now. But what is the point of being alive when the only thing worth living for is no longer alive itself?
“I love you, too,” RK900 said aloud, an error in his programming making his voice shake. “If only I’d realized it sooner.”
He fired the second shot.
He didn’t miss, this time.
Blue mixed with red, and two became one as they swirled into a deep violet river, staining the cold concrete with the colours of regret.
__________
This is for all the people who read part one and encouraged me to write a part two. I hope you all enjoy, I’m actually sorry for this. Gavin Reed deserved better.
#detroit: become human#gavin reed#RK900#reed900#gavin900#gavin x rk900#this is even worse than the first one#but alas#i was convinced to post it#i hate this#thanks
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