#im just thinking about the logic behind this
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Franz Kafka wrote his letter to his father on a typewriter but the last three pages are handwritten.
You can see the original typescript here, with Kafka's handwritten corrections.
#im just thinking about the logic behind this#he wrote the letter on a typewriter and probably he felt like he needed to say more so he wrote it by hand?#or was the whole letter handwritten and he just didn't type last three pages?#KAFKA WHAT WAS GOING ON IN YOUR HEAD#franz kafka#daily kafka#letter to his father
231 notes
·
View notes
Text
one kind of funny phenomenon I think in dreblr spaces is that we’ve spent so long arguing some things that sometimes we end up writing c!Dream sharing our viewpoints and accidentally make him like. Uhhh more woke than he actually is LMAO. c!dream isn’t arguing against punitive justice as redemption he made that shit . He put himself in a box
#just thinking about how c!Dream’s deal with c!tommy keeps going back to Why Aren’t You Behaving [tries to make him behave]#and it’s like bro why did you think that [gestures at exile] would even work what#and then he puts himself in the prison and it’s like ?? why did you think this one would work either what !!#like bro has a really broken worldview#the secondary less practical motivations behind c!Dream orchestrating exile amd prison are so funny to me lowkey#like the practical reasons are batshit but at least somewhat logical. and then there’s ??? dude get therapy#saw this draft and cackled so im posting it
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
son boy raccoon trash can man suffering in a dnd au as a cleric bc his warlock will not stop committing murders and he has to keep coming up with reasons murder is valid to convince the gm its fine and under control
#my characters#oops i fell in love#right is trying his best in the au to think about all the logic behind killing someone despite being a cleric SPECIFICALLY#bc he refuses to hurt anyone irl or in dnd and ok fine their warlock can have a little murder as a treat#and the body count is adding up and hes like ... so tired..... please can you not kill for five minutes im running out of excuses#fwiw he has the weird logic of the group in the base plot and the guy who is the gm here#is v open about ok but if we ask right then hell give an unhinged answer completely thought out and rationalized#and in fact asks him hey i know you refuse to hurt people but im having a debate with these two coworkers#if you had to commit a crime for aaaaaanyone on the planet who would you commit a crime for#and he doesnt even hesitate to say luca obviously to which the asker is like WHAT ABOUT MY DAUGHTER#YOU WANNA MARRY HER AND WONT COMMIT A CRIME FOR HER? but LUCA? of all people???? not even brent?#and right is just so confused because first off brent would probably be the one committing a crime for him without being forced#(brent agrees with this statement with a shrug) and second off luca has really weird coworkers and thought he was getting stalked for a bit#due to a misunderstanding with said one weird coworker so yeah obviously right would threaten the guy with a gun which is illegal and#third and final how could he face his beloved angel (the daughter mentioned above) if he was a criminal#he cant tarnish a sweet little innocent girls opinion by committing a crime IN HER NAME gosh fuck off with that attitude#he has STANDARDS thank you very much#and the three at the table are all like okay yeah that was really thought out on the fly youre right#also brent do not commit any crimes for him please and brent just nods in agreement bc ok he wont commit a crime unprompted#also hi animal crossing emotes are so fun to doodle for bye#once again i am baffled by how different the colors look on my laptop in the art program vs posting to tumblr#im going to go insane at how different they look#IM COLOR PICKING FOR MY OWN OCS AND ITS SO WRONG LOOKING IDK MAN
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
this looks like a long time but initially it said 1 MONTH 15 days
#i think i will just have to grab cutscene footage from online... im not waiting for that sh... lmao#this has me admitting that i'm not a gamer and left that identity behind some time ago... which is kind of sad but ok#thoughh when witcher 4 drops... 😈#oh my god i typed witcher 34 instead of witcher 4. i think that already exists on the internet LOL#i'm actually not as excited for w4 as i am for the remaster of the first game#i also don't have any saves and i need footage of like some late-quest stuff (just for a mention of lore inconsistencies LOL)#like what do i do go beat tw3 AGAIN just to get a clip of ciri facing the white frost#...................... well........#ok ngl actually a shot of emhyr in the beginning of the game would be better to explain 'lore inconsistencies'#because that's probably more aggravating to me than the 'we changed the white frost so you can fight it' thing#that thing is understandable. that's like basic video game logic. antagonists can be fought...#and though i don't like that messaging that forces of nature can be fought...#i understand this is a AAA game with outcomes that need to be written as endings. it's not an experiential VN#emhyr in tw3 though has just annoyed me and has actually annoyed me ever since i found out his character from the books#after all that you're gonna take him and pretend he just wanted to be a better dad and have a good heir on the throne...#well ok he did want a good heir on the throne. to be fair. just. not ciri but her child ... ahem#tw3 just dropped that pregnancy plot like a hot potato 😭 because it's so uncomfortable#without vilgefortz to decapitate in the end and the lodge actively plotting around i admit it loses its meaning#also to be fair tw3 does not have that throughline about reproduction and destiny that the books do#like the begetting of progeny is a huge huge huge theme in the books and so ciri's storyline is just one of a few ways it comes up#without geralt and yennefer specifically being angsty at the start about children it doesn't really work as a plot for ciri later on#the elbow-high diaries
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
day 3: unnecessarily complex fit
ii gotta be honest, they were originally gonna have two feet but then i couldn't figure out the perspective of their right one so i decided to just not draw it
#im aware that its the 13th but i wanted to draw this prompt.. and im like real happy with how this turned out..#could not make myself do shadows because what the fuck are light sources even..#and and i made a silly brush specifically just to use for the texture in this because i thought it would be funny..#yeah and um dont ask the logic behind the color scheme.. i honestly dont think about that shit ever#i just pick colors and go with the flow. you will NOT catch me practicing color theory..#and um yeah..#oh once again i made the smallest things too detailed. so they stand out much more than they're supposed to..#the nose piercing i was able to dial back. but the choker just is like that. and it stands out way too much..#also really appriciate that the shorts look alright because i had no fucking clue what was going on there..#i put off figuring them out for so long that they only made sense once i put the texture on them. which was like one of the last things..#art#my art#cringetober 2023#um#digital art#oh and the background was a total accident.. i had filled the characters surroundings with white to make sure none of my notes and shit wer#visible. and id forgotten about it.. so then when i changed the background color. it basically looked like that already.#i just tweaked it a bit..#tbh im quite glad it happened so because ii struggle with balancing the background between too distracting and a void..#the colors are so fucked for everyone else probably because ive fucked with my monitors gamma levels a lot#basically overall saturation is supposed to be higher. and mainly the dark green is supposed to be a bit more blue-ish..
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
sniffles sadly. every day im so sad that fnaf didnt go with placing vanny into aftons role.... god forbid women do anything ! ! !
#just saw gtlive finish the first ending n like. urgh#maybe if i liked eclipse more i wouldnt mind how prevalent they r but woof man#like i get it its charlie and evil baby or whatever in the same body but come onnnnn#that and the candy cadet stories just bashing the same kid going into woods framework into the ground#i miss when it was like. this dude sewed 5 kittens together! this lady melted 7 keys! stuff like that yk that was different and scarier#i do rlly think the series is going toward this like polished marketable thing instead of the grimy sludge i liked .... </3 and the AI stuf#is sooooo boring like fuuuuck its so boring. i wouldnt mind if its charliebots bc at least theyre interesting !!!!#but mimic as the new villian? bro. dude. thats so boring come on... afton was interesting bc he was fucked up severly#and robots r just like. theyre just robots dude its not even scary its just a thing being programmed smh#without the afton behind it its kinda just ..... bleh#honestly i wish they would cap the story? like make vanny take aftons role; do some shit; end it in a tragic but cathartic way#and then if they want to make more games do either other families in universe (like fazbear frights) or prequels/ world building shit like#something set in circus babys pizza world or w/e .i mean you could argue its about cassie now but if her dad is bonnie bro we're still stuc#in the afton central place. and i dont like that hteyre moving on without wrapping up the 102938120 loose ends they already made URGH ! !#is it too much to ask for a fnaf game thats crusty round the edges and really metaphorical for theorists to dig into but logical enough it#can be solved and also creates a good plotline . yeah i guess hell will freeze over before that#d.txt#sorry im sooooo normal about fnaf <- is abnormal. fuhnaffs theories r GREAT thoguh i love that guy he makes me happy about the franchise :o
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have no idea why but out of all the fanart I've ever drawn my genshin stuff for some reason stays the most consistent & I literally can't figure out why
#its not even something im consciously trying to accomplish either i rarely ever think about trying to maintain a consistent style#my two priorities when i draw are always 1) have fun and 2) make it look pretty . art style ''consistency'' is negligible in the end#and something thst just happens naturally as a result of you learning yo draw more things#hence why i hate the idea of consistency tk begin with its more of a marketing tool for yourself than anything#But anyways enough of my tangent. i think it is so weird that my genshin art looks like it was all actually drawn by the same person#my orv art is so 😭😭😭 its everywhere help#though that is partly bc i like experimenting more w orv the novel provides a vast amt of material to work w#if i had to actually logic out a reason behind my genshin art staying consistent then id say its probably smth im just doing subconsciously#since all my genshin stuff is quarantined here in the first place#Worried face. im pretty sure genshin is now the media property ive drawn the Most fanart of#next to hxh. Worried face
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
girl what the hell is axs I'm scared
#I understand the logic behind splitting the tickets on sale#but girl#I'm nervous#and why do we still only have 1 cardiff show? I'm annoyed about that acc :/#every other uk city gets multplie shows:(#I'm literally also gonna have to book mon tues and weds off for the sale#just in case I don't get waitlisted#but I do not have enough holiday so im going to have to explain this situation to my supervisor tomorrow..#like#I don't acc need 3 days off#but I might need 1 of them#but I won't know until 14 july#so like. help me please boss#why did they have to push back the wait list emails#the rest of Europe got theirs#I can't believe how quick this has come though#to think that this time next week i could have tickets...#anyways#em talks#the eras tour
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
omg im scared my tags are gonna get cut out
were he not born to be a hero he must surely be born for this. <- I LOOOOVE THISS my GODD are u KIDDDDINGME i looooove that so much monty :(( how it ties back in to the start!!
and the way!! he uses what he learned on izuku. and izuku really DID burst into a million tears 🥺 poor guy probs needs it THE MOST WAAAH i loooove this lil interaction i am MUSH
and when he realises its different from touching you??? OHHHH. BOYYYYYY.
i love this monty thank u for writing this
STEADY BEGINNINGS ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO
tags: GN reader, developing relationship (eventual friends to lovers), touch starved shouto, physical affection (hand holding + long hugs), good god the yearning, obliviousness, jealousy, fluff + angst, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency
wc: 3.8K
series masterlist: 2/5
Shouto was born to be a hero.
It is a sentiment shared by reporters and fans alike. Todoroki Shouto, the pride of Endeavor, the saving grace of his family name. True, his development had been entirely up to chance—no matter the intent or cruel desperation behind his father’s actions, he had to rely on the probability that the next offspring would win the genetic lottery—but low and behold, he did, and to many people that alone was a sign of destiny at work.
Ultimately, he chose to continue the path of being a hero himself, but no higher being put him there. His father did. At the time of his birth Shouto had not been a son, not even a baby. He was a project. A small, shapeless, squirmy thing. Malleable, like any young mind. It’s a miracle he retained any will and individuality.
Sometimes when alone with his thoughts, Shouto would hypothesise on the whys and the hows. The conclusion he always comes to is this: any sort of reality in which Shouto succumbs to his father’s ideals and manipulation would have to be a world in which his mother does not exist.
While his existence was planned, and wanted, he was to be a hero and as such, wasn’t cut from love—that came after. He loved his mother. So much so that when she hurt, he hurt. When she cried, he cried. She taught him what it meant to be gentle, to have hope, to aspire to be his own person. Years spent amongst the country's finest heroes and Shouto still regarded his mother as the bravest woman he knew, strong because she refused to be hardened by her circumstances; soft so that she can’t be broken again.
You are like his mother in that regard. Those same echoes of reassurance that softness isn’t weakness, and it isn’t earned. You’ve been touching him more as of late, as if determined to prove it. Static between brushed fingertips, words expressed by simply pressing your knees together, the weight of your hand on his bicep to garner his attention. The build up is subtle and cumulative and yet each instance strikes him with the magnitude of a thermodynamic explosion.
Nobody bats an eyelid to this shift in physicality, which makes it all the more difficult to determine whether he is reading into things or not. It could be that he’s noticing those small instances only because it’s you, and you are all he can think about lately.
You’ve given him permission to reciprocate. He merely has to ask for more if he wants it. What Shouto hadn’t accounted for is the unbearability of being vulnerable enough to ask. An innocent “can you hug me?” becomes so much more daunting to voice with all that longing crowded up behind it. He can’t help worrying you’ll see right through to the bottom of his desires.
A hand comes into view. Bakugo’s ash-smudged finger and thumb pinch and snap together in front of his face. “Come back to Earth, dumbass. Your thousand yard stare is scarin’ my new assistant”.
Shouto blinks out of his stupor and the blurred vignette surrounding his vision recedes. He glances at the skittish man sitting outside Bakugo’s office currently sending worried glances over his shoulder. “I think he’s more scared that you’re back,” Shouto intones dryly. “Isn’t he the fourth one this year?”
“Not my fault they’re all wimps,” Bakugo huffs. A slap reverberates around the office as he throws down a manila folder onto his desk and drops heavily into his chair. He regards Shouto with suspicion overtop his computer monitor. “Whatever you were just thinkin’ about—stop”.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking about”.
“I know you always manage to make Olympic level leaps in logic,” Bakugo rolls his eyes and tears open the folder. He slides out what Shouto assumes is a debrief and flips it between his fingers. Shouto keeps quiet. He reclines into the couch cushions and returns to reading the incident report on his lap, counting down from ten in the privacy of his mind. Anytime now.
Three, two, one.
“So what is it?” Bakugo asks, trying too hard to sound flippant but landing squarely on irritation. “Spit it out before you give yourself an aneurysm”.
Shouto opens his mouth and closes it again. A wave of hot embarrassment washes over him. He knows Bakugo will do him the kindness of being blunt and honest but it doesn’t make it any less humiliating to admit.
In their younger years Shouto saw something of a kindred spirit in Bakugo. He too did not like touch and aggressively voiced his distaste for it whenever he got the chance—which was often, because divine intervention sought fit to give him the most tactile, handsy friend group possible.
As they got older though, Shouto began to realise that the protests and threats were hollow. Despite being vehemently against affection, Bakugo would allow it anyway, and sometimes even seek it out. The aggression was bravado. Bakugo liked having his friends draped around his shoulders. He liked when Mina kissed his cheek, or Kaminari played with his hair, or Kirishima gathered him into a too-tight hug, or Sero tangled their ankles together on the couch.
Only, for him to comfortably accept it, Bakugo needed to act as though he were doing them a favour by allowing them into his space. And Bakugo’s friends played along without complaint.
From what he’s observed you are also an affectionate person. You are liberal with your warmth and adapt seamlessly to the boundaries of those around you. But you were also visibly uncomfortable whenever people took that affinity for intimacy as an open invitation, and recoiled if they encroached on your own.
Shouto has imagined reaching out only for your body to flinch away from him more times than he can count. It’s a battle staged in his head, ingrown fears. The possibility alone was enough to keep him from reciprocating, set in a state of fawn-like inertia.
“There’s somebody I want to get closer to. A friend,” he begins. Bakugo makes an inquisitive noise, props his cheek against his fist and narrows his eyes as he listens. Shouto retells the story in part, deciding to omit your name, and by the tail-end of it Bakugo’s forehead is deeply creased in dissatisfaction.
“You make all your own problems, Halfie. Y’know that?” he mutters, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and sinking back into his chair. “Fine, you don’t want to make this person uncomfortable, or whatever. If you need a hug so damn badly, why not ask Deku? Not like he’d say no”.
Knowing Bakugo would make his dilemma sound ridiculous is one thing, actually hearing it is another. “How do you know it isn’t about Midoriya,” Shouto returns petulantly.
“It ain’t Izuku or anyone else from your nerd squad,” Bakugo says, dropping his hand to drum on the desk. “I would’ve heard about it”.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t touch people. And that’s fuckin’ fine, yeah? But if you had, I know for a fact any one of them would’ve burst into tears and told everyone in a five mile radius”.
“Oh,” it leaves him a little off-kilter to hear. Shouto leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, setting the report on the dark wood coffee table. The corner of the page is curled, and the spine is creased, and the ink annotation has smudged under his thumb. He details these things as he deliberates, the excuses cloying in his throat and thick like he might cry too.
Bakugo was right—if he craved close contact so badly, why couldn’t he go to Midoriya? He knows he would likely be met with enthusiasm.
“You don't have to tell me who. I don’t care. But you’re overthinking it,” Bakugo grunts at his lack of response, in a way that very much suggests that he cares. “Go ask. If they say ‘no’ it’s tough shit, but the world isn’t gonna end. From what you’ve told me they wouldn’t say ‘no’ anyway. Dumbass”.
Shouto nods and gives up the pretense of reading the paperwork. He feels coltish as he stands and brushes down his front, straightening the creases.
“You’re right”.
“I know”.
“Thank you, Bakugo,” he says. A small smile unfurls across his anxiety-bitten mouth. “You’re a good friend”.
“Shut up,” Bakugo grumbles. It’s a testament to his concern that he hadn’t cursed Shouto there and then. “Now get out of my office. What are you doing here in the first place? You got your own!”
“Yours gets all the sunlight. And it’s always quiet because nobody comes in here,” Shouto ignores the baleful slit of an eye Bakugo turns on him. “I’m going to take my lunch now”.
“Do what you want,” Bakugo dismisses haughtily, and Shouto smiles while thinking, not for the first time, that he’s very lucky to have friends like these.
The fidgety assistant bows as he exits and turns into the sun-drenched hallway. Warmth drapes around Shouto’s shoulders, lingering at his nape while he descends the dark stairwell where the light doesn’t reach. His boots thud against the linoleum, and he counts each footfall to keep his face neutral as his legs carry him toward your department.
Somewhere between one and one hundred and thirteen, a fraction of Shouto’s courage starts to dwindle. He grits his teeth. A hundred steps can’t be enough to dissuade him after decades of denying himself any kind of indulgence.
The further he goes into the support wing the more elaborate the layout becomes. You’re in research and development, assigned a workshop close to the quirk analysts. Heads turn as Shouto rolls through. Heroes didn’t often make personal visits to this area. If he thinks hard enough he could count a grand number of two past visits and neither of them were for you.
His stride falters when he catches sight of your nameplate. It is fixed to the wall outside your door, polished and gleaming proudly. Shouto traces the characters of your name engraved into steel before raising his hand to knock.
Your voice rings out from inside, “Come in!”
A pitched beeping sound comes from overhead. The workshop doors begin to open in a theatrical fashion, receding like curtains to reveal your space. The floor is mapped out with tape. Clear boundaries drawn between the work benches, the fume cupboards, the vault and your personal office, in an attempt at organised chaos. He might have been more interested in poking around for the first time if he had not felt on the edge of intrusion.
You’re tucked behind your curved desk surrounded by numerous monitors that dwarf your frame. Shouto furtively takes in your cute, rumpled appearance. The upper half of your coveralls have been undone to reveal an undervest, sleeves tied tight around and accentuating your waist.
“Take a seat, I’ll be with you in…” the dull tapping of practiced keystrokes comes to a stop as you notice him in the doorway. The professional veneer disappears. “Shouto?” you say, mostly to yourself. Your gaze slides beyond his shoulder, looking for whoever might be accompanying him. “Is everything okay?”
There’s a worried twist in your mouth that he wants to smudge away. A look in your eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugged at his being. Shouto rolls his shoulders, shaking off the tension, and moving deeper into your office. The doors close automatically behind him. “I’m okay,” he assures, taking the seat across from you.
Your expression gentles, and he likes how your gaze follows him. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me,” he continues. “But if you’re working I can head back”.
“Lunch?” you repeated. Your eyes darted to the corner of the monitor closest to you and promptly widened. “Oh, shit. When did that happen?”
An upswing of fondness catches him like a blow to the chest. His mouth quirks into a smirk. “How long have you been here?”
“Too long. I got lumped with a new project a few days ago and it’s almost done,” the monitors shut off one by one as you sheepishly press each button. Then you gave him a soft, apologetic look, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Must’ve missed me if you came all the way down here”.
Dread shriked through him. The low whirring from the equipment scattered around your workspace is suddenly inordinately loud. Was he that obvious?
You, however, fail to notice Shouto’s anxiety and grab him around the wrist as you pivot the desk. “C’mon. Let’s go before the good stuff is gone,” you tell him.
Shouto had absolutely no clue what the ‘good stuff’ entailed—maybe he should’ve bothered to ask. Atleast it would take his mind off your hand. It’s wrapped around his sleeve, right where the fabric ends, loose enough for him to unshackle from if he wants. When he doesn’t protest the contact you stroke your thumb in an arc over the heel of his hand and squeeze.
Shouto falls into step, too caught up to realise you’ve taken him to the cafeteria. He expects you’ll drop his wrist in the presence of your colleagues, yet you adjust your grip and glance back at him with an encouraging tilt of your head.
“I’m starving. I think I’ll get a rice bowl. Smells pretty good today, don’t you think?”
Shouto hummed his agreement. He felt out of his depth, and he didn’t trust his voice. The spark of giddiness was doing embarrassing things to his throat. The line is mercifully short and before long he has a warm bowl of food held against his front.
“Did you want to sit in here? I can take us to one of the senior staff lounges instead if you want,” you cast a nervous look across the sparse crowd. “I mean, support engineers aren’t really gossiping types but…”
A petty part of him hoped the whispers would escalate. To have your name linked with his, to be known as a person that you cared about—he found that deeply satisfying, for reasons he couldn’t yet put his finger on.
Then again, being alone with you far eclipsed the appeal of flaunting your friendship. “The senior staff lounge sounds best,” he answers after a minute of feigned consideration. You nod, regretfully having dropped his hand, and motion for him to follow once more.
The lounge is a modest room with a kitchenette, a breakfast nook and a few bean bag chairs. It smells faintly like peeled oranges. There are post it notes and blueprints haphazardly stuck to the pinboard, covering an out of date calendar filled out in illegible scrawl. This is no shop awning. There is no rainfall to lend to the ambiance. But you are together in an enclosed space, and that is enough to make his heart beat in anticipation.
You scoot into the breakfast nook. He sits on the same side of the table and tries to subtly spread his knees enough to nudge your thigh. You side-glance in surprise but choose not to mention it. Instead you smile through your first mouthful and ask, “How've things been since I last saw you?”
Achy, like he’s used an atrophied muscle. Lonely, and frustrating beyond words. But he doesn’t say any of that. He digs crescents into his thigh through his pant leg and says, “Boring”.
“Figured that might be the case. I saw the livestream of you fighting Haywire,” you bump your shoulder against his. “The Commission probably dumped a whole load of paperwork on you, huh?”
Shouto wrinkles his nose. He hoped you hadn’t caught that fight. The pursuit of Haywire—an eco terrorist with an electrical quirk—managed to cause an unprecedented amount of damage to the city infrastructure.
“You handled it as best you could. The power grid can be fixed. What’s important is people are alive because of you,” a warm weight covers the fingers restlessly whittling at his pant leg. You pet his hand, “I’m glad you weren’t hurt”.
Guided solely by his impulses, the instant you start to draw back he envelops the top of your hand and sandwiches it between his own. He goes hot and cold all over in quick succession. Boundaries, he reminds himself. But you’re not pulling away. You’re studying him with a knowing gleam in your eye.
Shouto clears his throat. Heat pricks across his skin, concentrated in his cheekbones. “Sorry,” he says. You can ask, a memory echoes. “Is this okay?”
“You don’t have to apologise. I told you it’s fine,” you reply firmly. “I’m happy to remind you if you need to hear it”.
“No, I…” his brow furrows. “I’ve been thinking”.
“That’s not good”.
Shouto snorts and shakes his head, his amusement petering out into a shallow breath. “I want to ask. I’ve wanted to ask like you said I could,” he explains vaguely. “I’m not very good at it, I think”.
You make a soft, understanding sound that immediately sets him at ease. “I guess, after denying yourself something for so long it can be scary to let yourself have it again,” you murmur, a faraway look in your eyes. After a pensive moment the sheen fades and your laughter lines deepen, “I’ll do what I did before, then. If you look like you need a hug I’ll ask you instead”.
“In what way do I ‘look like’ I need a hug?”
“You get this—I don’t know how to explain it,” you gesture vaguely at him. “This blankness about you, but not your normal resting face, I mean you don’t seem all there. I don’t like it. I like it best when you’re happy”.
“Ah,” comes his eloquent response. Shouto drops his gaze to where your hands knot together. Every quark in his body is urging him to get closer, and remain close. “Bakugo thinks I should try to hug Midoriya, too,” he adds, oddly flustered.
“Huh. You talked to Bakugo about—? That’s a surprise. A nice surprise, I mean! Well, Midoriya does give great hugs. It would be good for you to…”
Shouto’s thoughts grow louder and he frowns down at his rice. You’re saying something about physical touch and wellness and friends. Dopamine and serotonin. It barely registers. Two truths are pinging around his skull.
You have hugged Midoriya. Of course you have. You’re friends.
You think he’s great at it.
Why is that so unsettling? Teenagers think like this. Single minded and overly emotional.
He feels the shifting of your knuckles under his palm. “Hey. You’ll need one of these back if you’re going to eat,” you say.
“Right,” he lifts his left hand and picks up his chopsticks to take a pinch of rice from his bowl. He chews until the clamouring in his mind has settled, and you patiently accept his stoic silence without explanation. Shouto hasn’t been this awkward since highschool, and even then he was too wrapped up in his familial problems to be aware of it.
“What’s the project you’ve been working on?” he eventually asks.
You take the change of topic in your stride, leaning closer and lowering your voice to an excited whisper, “I’m not supposed to tell you but—it’s for Deku’s new costume”.
“Midoriya is getting a new costume?” Shouto replies. You playfully shush him and he pouts a little.
“Don’t sulk. He doesn’t know yet either,” you poke a chopstick at the corner of his jutted mouth. “It’s my job to prepare a design portfolio and talk through everything next week. You’ll get a new one too, when you break the top five”.
“If,” he amends.
“You don’t think you’ll move up?”
“Reaching the top was never really a priority for me,” Shouto’s attention splinters, half of his focus on the conversation and the other on the sensation of your skin. He considers overturning his hand to entwine your fingers. “I just want to be the best hero I can be”.
You hum, and as if plucking the desire right from his mind, absentmindedly slip into the gaps between his fingers. Shouto steadies his breathing and takes another mouthful.
The rest of the hour passes, syrupy and slow like molasses. By the final minute Shouto’s palm is sticky and reluctant to part from yours. You usher him out from the breakfast nook first, stacking the empty bowls before directing him back toward the emptied cafeteria.
You slide the bowls along the counter for the kitchen staff to take. Then you wipe your hands down your front as you pivot to face him, thrusting out both arms as he stands frozen.
“Can I hug you?”
Shouto touches his face and you laugh.
“This is because I want one,” you clarify with a warm grin, beckoning him closer.
Shouto inhales steps into the embrace, his arms instinctively wrapping around your back. There are less layers this time—the heat of your body is overwhelming, alongside the gentle rise of goosebumps across your bare shoulders. Your breath fell gently on his collarbone, his head lowering to curl into you. He thinks, were he not born to be a hero, he must surely be born for this.
“Thank you,” you mumble, squeezing his waste a final time as you retreat. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”
Shouto nods. Your presence moves away like the sun being blocked out and he watches you go, departing words caught in his teeth, an incessant buzz in his fingertips. The walk back to his office is a gauzy yellow haze. Every physiological response in his body told him that he was in a free fall, despite his feet being firmly on the ground.
“Shouto!”
Shouto halts mid-step at the familiar voice. He turns to look at Izuku, at the tentative beginnings of his smile. “Izuku,” he says.
“We missed you at lunch—are you feeling alright?” Izuku asks, slightly bemused. “You look kinda… floaty,” his eyes are dark, softened in the afternoon light as they sweep over Shouto’s figure and his face.
"Izuku," Shouto said before he could convince himself otherwise, “Do you want a hug?”
The innocent question appeared to crash into Izuku with the levity of a bullet train in motion. Tears sprang to his eyes, brighter now. Shouto tenses as he is swept into a solid hug. Izuku smells like fresh air, sweat and sweet-salty broth. He holds Shouto as though trying to keep his seams from bursting; thick arms are secure around his shoulders, and a rough palm rubs broad strokes down his back, smoothing the tension until Shouto is relaxed.
You were right. Izuku does give great hugs. Shouto came away doughy, and fuller, and with the stark realisation that while touching Izuku soothed the ache, it still felt completely different to touching you.
Later, as he leaned his head against the desk surface, he sluggishly contemplated the implications of that.
#oh monty this makes me ache for him sooo terribly#i got sooo sad at 'he was a project' bc truly :(((( like a test trial :(( oh im so sad#and this is so powerful omg: any sort of reality in which Shouto succumbs to his father’s ideals and manipulation#would have to be a world in which his mother does not exist. <- :(((( he loves his mama#and i looove the idea of you reminding him of the parts that he loves and admires about his momma#how you view softness as strength and it ISN'T EARNED!!! that's the impt bit. I AM SUUUCH A SUCKER FOR THAT#The build up is subtle and cumulative and yet each instance strikes him with the magnitude of a thermodynamic explosion.#<- SO GOOD DHBGHSF. i also love that you gradually ease him into it#anD WAAAAAHHH THE WAY it shocks no one that youre touchy w him and he's double thinking if its just him bc ure all he can think about latel#An innocent “can you hug me?” becomes so much more daunting to voice with all that longing crowded up behind it <- I WANT TO HUG HIMSDHFBSD#he is sooOOO precious :(( learning how to love and be touched and wanting it just cos he wants it :((#the oLYMPIC LEVEL LEAPS OF LOGIC HAS ME CACKLING HJSBDFJ i looove todobaku dynamics my GOD#AND HOW HE KNOWSSSS BKG IS GONNA ASK HIM TO SPILL IT ANYWAY DSHFBSJD PLS#AND SO TRUE :(( he and bkg are the same !!! in diff ways !! nd he allows the affection to touch him!!! despite all his bark WAAAH#MONTY I LOVE EVERYTHING U WRITE TRULY DHSD THE CHARACTERISATION NAD THE LIL DETAILS I AM JUST !!#AND SHOUTO BEING SCARED OF RECIPROCATING!!! BC OF U REJECTING HIM WAAAAH my precious boy#I CHOKED AT THE DEKU SUGGESTIODNFHSDB and everyone in their group bursting into tears at the thought of shouto's touch WAAAH#theres so much personality to your scenes monty i am forever in awe of it!!!!!! the todobaku dynamic SOARS and bkg's personality shines thr#and im cryING at shouto counting all the steps to you asfbsd he likes how your gaze follows him :(( OHHH IM MELTINGG HE LIKES UUU#WHEN U JOKE ABT HIM MISSING U HGSDFSJA AND HE GOES FULL ON ANXIETY BUT URE LIKE EH ! LETS GO !#IM CRYININGHBDFDS HES SOO CUTE when u grab his wrist and its ALLL he can focus on oh GOD let me HAVE HIM#AND HIM WANTING UR NAME TO BE ATTASCHED TO HIS DFJBS OH im so sick for tht BUT HE'D RATHER BE ALONE WITH U GODDDD#his lil movements tyring to get close to u like spreading his thighs?? OMGFBASFJ thATS SO CUTE#I LOOOOVE the attention to all the small points of touch AND WHEN HE TAKES UR HAND BACK TO SANDWICH IT WITH HIS OWN GOOOD DHJFBSHJ SOMEONE#everything abt this interaction is makigme GO INSANE monty omg. 'i like it best when ure happy' and then HIM OVERTHINKING THE HELLLL#OUT OF YOU HUGGING MIDORIYAF AHSDJFJ IM GOIDHFGJBSL#HIS LITTLE SULKKK SAAAAVE ME and he considers oVERTURNING UR HAND TO INTERTWINE UR FINGERS HELLOADG>>>!>!>>!!?!?!#MOnty i feel like a rabid dog going insane at small touches LIKE. they could breathe around one another and i think i woud die#bnha#sho
592 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m probably fundamentally a Not Good Horse Person simply because I forget that other folks’ horses are fucking nuts because mine are so solid. Like my mare is the shyer of the two, but her idea of spooking is flinching and backing up a couple of steps. My gelding just raises his head and like that’s it. So like I’m so used to mine not giving a single shit about anything that if I had to handle somebody else’s horse I’d probably die because I’d be treating it like one of mine lmao
#she speaks#my horses#it’s been a really long time since I’ve had to handle somebody else’s horse tho lol#this is an exaggeration tho cuz like I do know what I’m doing#and they’d probably end up with a better horse for it because I don’t tolerate bullshit#I’m not mean at all not even close#but if a horse decides something is scary we’re gonna spend a whole lot of time making it not scary#my horses aren’t perfect sometimes they do shit that I’m like okay no we have to fix this#but it’s rare and it’s usually my gelding and it’s usually because he’s decided he needs to test my authority#he’s a very spirited animal and he has his own ideas on how things should go#and sometimes I have to remind him that I’m the boss and that I have good reasons for the things I’m doing#because horses are smart and some of them don’t like to just blindly follow orders#some of them want to see the logic behind it#that’s where trust comes into play#he trusts that I will show him why im doing something#and I understand how fruity that sounds lol but it’s actually true#mark rashid talks about this a lot in his books#and in my opinion he’s the gold standard on good horsemanship#but I digress#point is I forget that most folks treat their horses like they expect them to explode#and there’s some old horseman wisdom on this that I think folks have forgotten#quiet people make loud horses#if you tiptoe around your horse you’re going to create a horse that reacts strongly to big movements#if you treat a horse like it’s going to explode then it’s going to explode#treat your horse like you expect it to be okay with whatever you throw at it#and then fix the problems that arise from that#and you’ll end up with a solid partner
1 note
·
View note
Text
.
#bruhhhh im literally doing the same things to my current friend group that i did to people in high school bruhhh#how do u stop the cycle </3 it is endless#at the very least now i am awARE#but the awareness doesnt hit until im out of the actual social situations#within the moment i feel quite overwhelmed and excluded no matter what i do#i think for me its harder cuz im just also more introverted#so other people might see my quietness as like idk oh maybe she doesnt wanna talk right now#while im seeing things as why am i not being talked to right now :((#its hard i want to show up for my friends a lot of them are graduating#but every group social event makes me feel more and more alone and i have stopped being able to control my emotions in the moment#like just the knowledge of like#if theres only space for 2 people on a sidewalk i'll be that third person trailing behind#and like its always me#groups of three make me uncomfortable#i dont have the confidence to insert myself in a group of two like ever#which is part of the problem for sure#and its like im quiet so even if i insert myself it'll just be me doing NOTHIGN#and saying NOTHIGN#which like ACHK#been getting bad at fighting these thoughts more and more by the day#the onLY thing thats different is my logical side she is#way louder than she used to be before i just gotta learn how to listen to her#in the MOMENT#its always afterwards where shes like told ya so#im doing more for myself too now though really really dont want life to repeat itself for the nth time#seeing a therapist rn who feels a lot better than my previous ones so im holding out hope#told me to list things i like about myself and i was like uhh how about things i value <3#and she was like no LSDKJF#its so tricky cuz like the things i value i dont even necessarily like about myself#i value honesty but honesty if misdelivered stings and i think ive done that one too many times
0 notes
Text
I did not expect it to be so depressing! Thought it was just gonna be another fun and happy adventure with the kids with just a slight hint of lore BUT THEN THE ENTIRE THING WAS JUST STRAIGHT-UP LORE AND CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.
That spooky month episode was so SAD what the FUCK
#Was gonna add something about the religious themes of the episode as well but I couldn’t word it correctly so just assume I said something#assume I made some really good and logical points#AND THE FUCKING ENDING OH MY GOD#PUMP’S PARENTS ARE EITHER SO BUSY THAT THEY’RE NEVER HOME OR THEY’RE JUST FUCCIN DEAD.#I don’t think they’re dead because that leaves grandpa to pay for the house and other normal expenses and whatnot#When he’s clearly too old to be doing that kinda stuff. Pump’s sister even says that him stressing out their grandpa too much hurts him.#Pump’s antics combined with his sister’s schooling and the expenses of everyday life is just too much for one person of his age.#So I think the parents are just always off on some big business trips or whatever. Being negligent shitty parents.#Meanwhile Skid’s dad is just dead. He’s gone. It’s basically made obvious all throughout the episode.#That ending tho with Skid’s mom (I forgot her name) and him just crying on the floor with a messy house behind them… AUGH#JUST FUCCIN KICK ME WHILE IM DOWN WHY DONT YA#THAT WAS SO SAD OH MY GOSH#wordz
441 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#must not text him texting him is the growth killer#must not text him texting him would be bad because it will make us feel bad and its my fucking bday this weekend#im not letting me do that to us#but fucking god i miss him rn and a lot lately 😭😮💨 was there a traumaversary i didnt know about??#the only him related traumaversary already happened in feb and we handled it pretty fairly well (mostly due to the ffected being dormant)#but still like. what did i do last year for my bday? what did we do the year before he was probably there then but i dont remember feeling#this way around last bday? which he prroobbabblyy wasnt there for? time is not easy for me#idk its driving me crazypants lately like i miss him so much i thought he was my everything forever he told me he would be#but hes not and he never was and hes done a lot to hurt me but none of it was on purpose he was never mean or violent#and looking at old pictures we look so fucking good together and old chats the way he talked to me was so sweet and but that doesnt change#the fact that at this point in time and probably never again is he actually here#fuck this noise man ive got a cute outfit ready im going to the local museum with my grandma for my bday day#and ive got weed and tunes planned for the evening there are so many things to look forward to coming soon why#why do i seem to be stuck in the past lately. like not in active ptsd mode im not triggered as the kids love to say but i just cant stop#thinking abt him and the whole relationship and wishing he was here. wishing he never left? or more like wishing hed come back#hoping that hes changed enough and that i have too to make it work. i keep having awful visions of him coming to my door after a life attemp#and im so mad at him but i cant leave him out here so of course i invite him in to care for him and make sure hes ok#and its awful because it feels like a whisper away from being reality. its too close to what could be real#and its awful not because its a dream but because the closeness to what could be reality hurts so much when logic kicks in#and i know its not reality no matter how dang close it seems#personal#i think im splitty lately. im losing more time than usual and i cant get this boy outta my head.#i hope hes a lingering thought and not a permanent resident oh that would fuck us up so so bad#idk. idk dude! everythings fucked up atm im doing a lot of personal growth but im also behind on so many other things#i just want him out of my brain. its my fucking goddamn birthday and im making this one a good one for fucking once#i can handle the other shit later but this one do be fucking me up in a major way lately the last few days. weeks? who knows
0 notes
Text
my little brother and I were both sitting in the living room today just coexisting peacefully (he was playing bg3 and I was on the couch sewing) and out of nowhere, he looked up from his laptop and was like "Astarion's covered in blood right now, you wanna come see?" so of course i got up so fast I made myself dizzy. like how does he know me so well
#it's the part where he's in the white frilly blouse thingy#i haven't gotten that far yet in the game so that's all i know in regards to context#my family and close friends know i have a thing for vampires so im guess that's the logic behind it?#perhaps?#anyway#i did me a giggle just thinking about so why not share it with the world too
0 notes
Text
ONE - LN
summary: the quadrant team find themselves in a hotel for the night, but there's just one issue - there's only one bed left.
warnings: none, just fluff ig
a/n: this is so short and i kinda really hate it im so sorry - i think this was requested but i cant find it in my inbox :(
masterlist the playlist
y/n had been working with the quadrant team for a while now, helping out with filming and editing their videos. it was a dream job, honestly, getting to travel around and hang out with friends, even if it meant dealing with a few chaotic moments here and there.
they were on location, ready to shoot some new content for an upcoming video. however, when they arrived at the small hotel only to find that there were only three rooms available for the night, chaos ensued as they tried to figure out the sleeping arrangements. three bedrooms, six beds, six people.
“lando snores - absolutely not,” max called out, grabbing niran quickly.
“y/n wakes up at 6am - absolutely not,” ria followed, grabbing araav too, leaving y/n and lando stood quietly next to each other, assigned to a room despite not getting a word in edgeways.
“it’s a good thing i’m a heavy sleeper,” y/n sighed, looking up at lando who smiled at her softly.
“it’s a good thing i don’t mind waking up early,” lando replied, grabbing her camera bag before leading the two of them to their room. y/n fumbled with the keys, trying to unlock the door quickly.
she opened the door and froze, lando walking straight into her back, not expecting the sudden stop. there, in the middle of the room, was a single double bed. y/n turned back to lando, who was standing behind her with their bags.
“um, lando, we have a problem,” y/n said, stepping aside so he could see.
lando peered into the room and his eyes widened. “oh, great,” he muttered. “one bed.”
“yeah,” y/n said, rubbing the back of her neck, trying not to be saddened by his upset at the situation, “we’ll figure something out.”
“i’ll take the floor. it’s fine,” lando sighed.
“no, you won’t,” y/n shot back. “i’ll take the floor. you need a good night’s sleep for filming tomorrow.”
“so do you,” lando argued. “we can’t have you exhausted either.”
“no, i’ll take the floor,” y/n shot back, crossing her arms defiantly.
“y/n, don’t be ridiculous. i’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”
“well, i’m not letting you sleep on the floor either,” y/n countered, voice firm.
the others watched the back-and-forth with amused expressions, until max finally stepped in, appearing suddenly in the open door.
“you two are adults. just share the bed. it’s not a big deal.”
lando and y/n exchanged hesitant glances. they had been friends for years, sure, but sharing a bed felt... different. still, they both nodded, realising it was the most logical solution.
“fine,” y/n said, a touch reluctantly, “we can share the bed.”
as they got ready for bed, both of them were internally stressing. as y/n stood in the bathroom brushing her teeth, she couldn’t stop thinking about how close they’d be, especially when the mirror gave her the perfect view of lando laying on the bed, arm behind his head as he scrolled his phone. lando was trying to ignore the feeling in his stomach at the thought of lying next to y/n all night, one step away from googling alternatives to a cold shower. still, she climbed into the bed, each of them staying rigidly on their respective sides, trying to give each other as much space as possible - y/n half tempted to set up a pillow between the two to add some distance.
time passed and y/n found it impossible to fall asleep in the unfamiliar bed. she tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, and with each turn, the sheets rustled loudly in the otherwise silent room. every few minutes, she let out a frustrated sigh, clearly unable to settle.
lando, who was on the verge of falling asleep, noticed y/n’s restless movements. he heard her get up and walk to the bathroom, the sound of the door closing quietly behind them. after a few minutes, y/n returned and climbed back into bed, but the tossing and turning continued.
another sigh escaped y/n, and lando, though exhausted, turned over to face her.
“you okay?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
“yeah, i just... struggle to sleep in unfamiliar beds,” y/n admitted quietly.
lando sighed, his exhaustion outweighing his nervousness.
“c’mere,” he sighed, exhaustion outweighing his logic as he reached out, gently pulling y/n into his arms.
y/n’s heart raced, her body momentarily freezing up at the sudden contact but she relaxed into lando’s embrace as his hands settled on her hip, fingers extending along her skin. surprisingly, it did help. being close to him, feeling his warmth, was comforting.
as y/n’s breathing evened out, lando assumed she had finally fallen asleep, feeling a mix of relief and adoration for the woman that lay in his arms. he hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding. then, with a gentle, almost hesitant movement, he pressed a soft kiss to y/n’s head.
“good night,” he whispered, his voice tender.
“hmm night,” she mumbled back, barely conscious to recognise what was going on around her. it was better not to dwell.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#propertyofwicked
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Its been 6 months😭😭 pleaasseeee make a part 2 of the android x human story im beggingggg😭
-H❤️
Yandere! Android x Reader (II)
Featuring your assigned android partner who is not as devoid of humanity as you originally thought.
Content: female reader, AI yandere, mildly NSFW, based on Caves of Steel
[Part 1] | [More original works]
The case had been solved.
Not only that, but you'd managed to prove that human officers were just as efficient as their robot counterparts. The Commissioner was beyond ecstatic, pacing back and forth in his office and finding new ways to praise your detective skills.
"That'll show those Spacers. They think some glorified tin box can match our skill?"
You frowned at his words and glanced to your side, where the android was sitting. He observed the Commissioner with the same polite smile, no hint of disagreement on his features. Was he not insulted? You questioned him once the formal meeting had finished.
"I have no reason to be offended, (Y/N). It is a personal opinion, and thus I have no control over it."
"So you don't mind people disliking robots to such an extent?"
He pondered your statement.
"I would certainly be upset if it was you who harbored the disdain. The beliefs of other humans hold no meaning to me otherwise."
You couldn't tell if he said it out of politeness, or if he actually meant it. Most likely the former, in order to part on good terms. After all, your partnership has reached its completion. He'd return to the Spacer Colony with his report on human customs, and you'd go back to your regular job.
Except he never left. Days later, he was still sipping on his morning coffee, lounging at your table. You fiddled with your cup in contemplation. Was there anything else left to do?
"When are you leaving, actually?"
The pale man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.
"Is my presence here of such significant disturbance?"
"What? No!" you swiftly exclaimed, stumbling on your words. His lips widened in yet another cheeky grin. He was teasing you again.
"My assignment on Earth is done, thus I should have returned to the Colony already. That's what you're wondering about, yes? I am awaiting a response from my superiors."
"Whether you can go back?"
"No, whether my transfer has been accepted. I have applied to be your permanent partner."
You could feel your cheeks burning with heat. Was it that obvious to the synthetic that you enjoyed his company? Then again, he wouldn't have gone through such motions just for your sake.
"Why did you..." you probed sheepishly. There was no logical reason for him to keep working in a poorer, less advanced environment.
"Because I want to continue spending time with you."
Nonsense. An artificial being wouldn't make its decision based on such mundane, emotional reasons.
"I don't believe you."
"I understand. It is a faulty answer to come out of a machine. Though unlike common AI assistants, we have been invested with the capacity to develop likes and dislikes. Interests. Wants. It helps with variety and individualization."
"And you want to stay here? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you have a crush on me or something", you attempted to joke.
A few moments of uncomfortable silence. Had you gone too far with your humor? Was it too cliché of a sentence? You turned away, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear. You just had to be witty, huh?
"I'm afraid I do not know what to tell you, (Y/N)."
"You don't need to say anything, it was a poor choice of-"
"Many social aspects have been implemented into my behavioral network. Workplace rapport, friendships, intimate relationships. What seems to be lacking is the transition from one to another. I know how to act as a romantic partner, but how does one achieve such a title in the first place?"
You gazed at him, incredulous. What was he trying to say?
"I am trying to convey that I am indeed infatuated with you. Which, then, makes my initial explanation dishonest: while I do appreciate our fruitful work cooperation, it is not a main reason for my decision. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings."
You'd never been a romantic. You sometimes flipped through sample pages of contemporary romance books at stores and community centers, but they always felt forcefully cheesy. Predictable. Consequently, you never had any grand dreams of passionate confessions under the rain.
On the other hand, you also didn't expect to be asked out in such a mechanical, calculated manner. Or that a machine would be the suitor. Yet there was something charming about his approach. For the first time since meeting him at the border, you saw him struggle. There was something human-like in his uncertainty.
You stood up from the table, and walked towards the android. Then, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, expressing the mutual feeling and understanding.
His eyes bore an eerie glint to them. It was most kind of you to offer a common ground, but he knew better. The affections you held for him were, with utmost certainty, a mere fraction of whatever overwhelmed him from the moment he encountered you. Limerence, obsession, compulsion, there were many definitions that aptly described his otherwise unexplainable desires towards you. Even more unexplainable was the fact they'd evolved from a blank slate, a programmed agent with no previous knowledge on feelings or humans.
You noticed his hesitation.
"Is there anything else troubling you presently?" you nudged.
Nothing of immediate urgency. Well, not for you, at least. The android remained thoughtful. What were the variables which needed to be met in order to initiate a sexual encounter? Would it have been inappropriate for him to suggest intercourse straight after this conversation? To him, it was a natural escalation he'd considered many times in the past. To you, it could've come as a sudden, crass, and hurried proposal.
He reached for your wrist and discreetly pressed a thumb against your skin. Judging from your resting heart rate, facial expression, and localized temperature, there was a fair chance you wouldn't reject his advances. Once the statistical risk had been assessed, he pulled you in for a kiss.
"Would it be possible to continue this in your bedroom?" he inquired, standing up.
"Alright, just don't...ask for approval for every single step" you retorted. You'd rather not become a narrator of your own pounding.
You open your eyes with a squint, greeted by unexpected natural light flooding your bedroom. Someone must’ve lifted the hologram blinds.
“My apologies, I hadn’t considered the discomfort it would cause you. My Spacer colony uses artificial lightning, though I am becoming rather fond of the natural sun rays here.”
Your android partner is meticulously preparing his outfit for the day. Judging by the stark nakedness and the glistening skin, you suppose he’s had a shower while you were still sleeping. You involuntarily furrow your brows and blush at the sight. He notices your embarrassment.
“A most surprising reaction. You have seen the very same genital organ…”, he says as he quickly checks his wristwatch, “...precisely eight hours and forty-five minutes ago.”
“It’s just…most people get dressed once they start doing other things. I also wear a towel for coverage when I come out of the shower.”
He processes your words.
“Hmmm. Illogical, but it explains your reaction.”
You stand up and stretch with a prolonged yawn. Suddenly, a revelation hits you: your mind flashes with images of the android fondling your body, your ears ring with the shameless moans you’ve let out throughout the night. Your face turns pale.
“Listen, when is your next functional inspection?” you ask, without waiting for the synthetic to answer. “Will they, uh…will they have access to all of your memories?”
You know that the android permanently records all data and saves it into a memory unit. It’s a pointless fear, of course. The Spacers couldn’t care less about irrelevant details. If the intended tasks are fulfilled, what happens on the side is out of their concern. Yet you don’t exactly appreciate the possibility of your personal deeds airing like this, before the eyes of multiple engineers.
“You may rest assured, whatever involves your privacy will not be included in the examination.”
“Do you get to decide what is checked and what isn’t?”
“No, most data is sampled randomly.”
You stare at him, confused.
“Then how-”
“It is not common practice, nor encouraged by our code of ethics. I can, however, choose which information is available to begin with.”
“What? I thought you’re fully controlled by whoever created you. If they so desired, couldn’t they open you up and take whatever they require?”
The robot smiles at your assumption and takes a few steps towards you.
“Once an android model is finished, one can no longer modify the processor. Not without compromising everything else with it. It is not a device to be deconstructed, (Y/N).” He taps his temple, then continues: “I am a biocomputer. While most of my parts are mechanical, my processor is a cortical organoid developed in a laboratory. A human brain, if you will.”
Somehow, the discovery fills you with dread. A living organ, encapsulated within a machine. What does that say about consciousness? About self-awareness? The Spacers didn't just tinker with metal scraps and smart computers. They artificially birthed life.
You were always under the impression that your robot companion is closer to the computer you have on your desk. Billions of lines of code within a black box, which then lead to spontaneous, novel interactions with the outside world. To think that at the very core of his functions lies a clump of living cells...
Perhaps you weren't so different, after all. The line between machines and humans is suddenly blurred.
#yandere#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere male#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere robot#yandere android#robot x human#android x reader#robot x reader#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere oc#yandere original character#yandere imagine#yandere fic
2K notes
·
View notes