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agapi-kalyptei · 4 months ago

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crowdstrike: hot take 1

It's too early in the news cycle to say anything truly smart, but to sum things up, what I know so far:

there was no "hack" or cyberattack or data breach*

a private IT security company called CrowdStrike released a faulty update which practically disabled all its desktop (?) Windows workstations (laptops too, but maybe not servers? not sure)

the cause has been found and a fix is on the way

as it stands now, the fix will have to be manually applied (in person) to each affected workstation (this could mean in practice maybe 5, maybe 30 minutes of work for each affected computer - the number is also unknown, but it very well could be tens (or hundreds) of thousands of computers across thousands of large, multinational enterprises.

(The fix can be applied manually if you have a-bit-more-than-basic knowledge of computers)

Things that are currently safe to assume:

this wasn't a fault of any single individual, but of a process (workflow on the side of CrowdStrike) that didn't detect the fault ahead of time

[most likely] it's not that someone was incompetent or stupid - but we don't have the root cause analysis available yet

deploying bugfixes on Fridays is a bad idea

*The obligatory warning part:

Just because this wasn't a cyberattack, doesn't mean there won't be related security breaches of all kinds in all industries. The chaos, panic, uncertainty, and very soon also exhaustion of people dealing with the fallout of the issue will create a perfect storm for actually malicious actors that will try to exploit any possible vulnerability in companies' vulnerable state.

The analysis / speculation part:

globalization bad lol

OK, more seriously: I have not even heard about CrowdStrike until today, and I'm not a security engineer. I'm a developer with mild to moderate (outsider) understanding of vulnerabilities.

OK some background / basics first

It's very common for companies of any size to have more to protect their digital assets than just an antivirus and a firewall. Large companies (Delta Airlines) can afford to pay other large companies to provide security solutions for them (CrowdStrike). These days, to avoid bad software of any kind - malware - you need a complex suite of software that protects you from all sides:

desktop/laptop: antivirus, firewall, secure DNS, avoiding insecure WiFi, browser exploits, system patches, email scanner, phishing on web, phishing via email, physical access, USB thumb drive, motherboard/BIOS/UEFI vulnerabilities or built-in exploits made by the manufacturers of the Chinese government,

person/phone: phishing via SMS, phishing via calls, iOS/Android OS vulnerabilities, mobile app vulnerabilities, mobile apps that masquerade as useful while harvesting your data, vulnerabilities in things like WhatsApp where a glitched JPG pictures sent to you can expose your data, ...

servers: mostly same as above except they servers have to often deal with millions of requests per day, most of them valid, and at least some of the servers need to be connected to the internet 24/7

CDN and cloud services: fundamentally, an average big company today relies on dozens or hundreds of other big internet companies (AWS / Azure / GCP / Apple / Google) which in turn rely on hundreds of other companies to outsource a lot of tasks (like harvesting your data and sending you marketing emails)

infrastructure - routers... modems... your Alexa is spying on you... i'm tired... etc.

Anyway if you drifted to sleep in the previous paragraph I don't blame you. I'm genuinely just scratching the surface. Cybersecurity is insanely important today, and it's insanely complex too.

The reason why the incident blue-screened the machines is that to avoid malware, a lot of the anti-malware has to run in a more "privileged" mode, meaning they exist very close to the "heart" of Windows (or any other OS - the heart is called kernel). However, on this level, a bug can crash the system a lot more easily. And it did.

OK OK the actual hot lukewarm take finally

I didn't expect to get hit by y2k bug in the middle of 2024, but here we are.

As bad as it was, this only affected a small portion of all computers - in the ballpark of ~0.001% or even 0.0001% - but already caused disruptions to flights and hospitals in a big chunk of the world.

maybe-FAQ:

"Oh but this would be avoided if they weren't using the Crowdwhatever software" - true. However, this kind of mistake is not exclusive to them.

"Haha windows sucks, Linux 4eva" - I mean. Yeah? But no. Conceptually there is nothing that would prevent this from happening on Linux, if only there was anyone actually using it (on desktop).

"But really, Windows should have a better protection" - yes? no? This is a very difficult, technical question, because for kernel drivers the whole point is that 1. you trust them, and 2. they need the super-powerful-unrestrained access to work as intended, and 3. you _need_ them to be blazing fast, so babysitting them from the Windows perspective is counterproductive. It's a technical issue with no easy answers on this level.

"But there was some issue with Microsoft stuff too." - yes, but it's unknown if they are related, and at this point I have not seen any solid info about it.

The point is, in a deeply interconnected world, it's sort of a miracle that this isn't happening more often, and on a wider scale. Both bugfixes and new bugs are deployed every minute to some software somewhere in the world, because we're all in a rush to make money and pay rent and meet deadlines.

Increased monoculture in IT is bad for everyone. Whichever OS, whichever brand, whichever security solution provider - the more popular they are, the better visible their mistakes will be.

As much as it would be fun to make jokes like "CrowdStroke", I'm not even particularly mad at the company (at this point - that might change when I hear about their QA process). And no, I'm not even mad at Windows, as explained in the pseudo-FAQ.

The ultimate hot take? If at all possible, don't rely on anything related to computers. Technical problems are caused by technical solutions.

#crowdstrike #cybersecurity #anyway i'm microdosing today so it's probably too boring to read #but hopefully it at least mostly made sense #to be honest I wanted to have more of a hot take #but the truth is mundane

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cry-ptidd · 10 months ago

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Nev, you absolutely brilliant and beautiful and talented mastermind!

I need to hear about your thoughts and opinions on pre-canon Alucard aka Dracula!

First of all anon I'm gonna kiss you and hug you and serve you burek with a warm drink and a smooch on the forehead

Second of all,

Long, long yapping below 👇 🗣️

Now, I don't know if you meant Dracula as in in-canon Hellsing Dracula or Bram Stoker's Dracula, so I'll do both thanks to the power of autism. Vlad III isn't included bc I don't wanna.

Also this is just my opinion and mild analysis of both medias, not a properly structured essay.

Dracula (1897) - Bram Stoker

Ok so first of all, Dracula is one of my favorite books. I adore gothic horror and the spooky melancholic supernatural atmosphere of most gothic novels. I consider Dracula a masterpiece of horror, even with its faults, idc.

The epistolary structure of it makes the horror progressive and building, despite the fact that alarm bells ring out every single second of Johnathan's stay at Chateau Drac. The various themes of temptation and danger and oh my god the danger followed me home oh god oh fuck are fascinating, and the human group is interesting (also Mina was done dirty).

But also, it's an inherently queer novel, which, as a queer person who loves horror, i adore. Bram Stoker was really fucking queer, but that's something he hated about himself and suppressed; it's no surprise that the count's entire character is so fruity in itself, he represents Stoker's own repressed queerness. Drac is, in the book, inherently sexual - the exchange of fluids to turn pure, virginal ladies into hot deadly sexy vampire seductresses, and the fact that he protects Johnathan from his brides and is always so... Like That with him makes him so interesting.

The scene where the count takes great offense at being told that he has never loved by one of his brides is one of my favorites in terms of characterization, because Dracula doesn't have any need to bullshit at that moment. He could've just told her to stfu and back off, or even let them eat Johnathan. But instead he gets offended because the remark hit a nerve. He wants to love and to be loved, but his methods are rather... unconventional and predatory to the Proper and Orthodox humans of the story. Rip Drac, you would've loved (and been loved by) today's monsterfuckers.

We're gonna ignore the fact that the supercool and awesome expert amazing professor Abraham Van Helsing is Stoker's self-insert and that he's the one that (or at least greatly helps the group) hunt down Dracula, the representation of unorthodox desire and sexy, vampiric existence.

Dracula in the Hellsing universe

Ok so this one is interesting.

First of all I want to address how fucking funny it is that Alucard tried to fuck both Mina and her husband and fumbled them both but that's a topic I think he'd get mopey and very bitter about so let's not.

Hellsing Dracula is really interesting. In the novel, we're not given the count's pov (why would we? He's the villain anyway.) but in Hellsing we do, and we get it very often. We know his childhood, his identity, but most importantly his philosophy and personality.

Alucard's personality changed a bit over the years:

Vlad was arrogant out of desperation and survival; he had to be strong, because if he's not then he'll be crushed and his prayers won't be heard by the god he worships with battle, and he "can't be defeated, ever." He can't afford to be.

Dracula was arrogant because he was powerful and unchained. He was the master, he was a monster not leashed by morality or conventionality and religion and even his body was above what a human could ever do. He knew he was a threat and he relished in it. How could any of those puny humans beat him? The Count Dracula? But they did.

Alucard is a snarky asshole that didn't lose any arrogance but it changed shape; it's not that he can't be defeated, it's by whom. He carefully chooses his fancied opponents and clings to them like a leech, at least emotionally, and puts them on this pedestal where they're the only ones who may. Any other fight is just to pass the time. Those sniveling cowards can't defeat him, but those proud human warriors can. And he's the one who decides what's worthy or not, because he's a top-tier level threat. (When he tried to stop Anderson from using the nail, he basically told him Anderson was created just to defeat him.)

But let's get back to Dracula here for a sec. That arrogance comes with any vampire because that's what they do, they're hot and sexy and broody and egotistical, stealing blood and beauty for their own sakes. But he's also really damn sad. I imagine that he gets bored after a while, after the novelty of cool supernatural tyranny wore off. The count has all reason to be confident; he's on top of the food chain in all aspects.

But what do you do when you're at the top?

You don't have anyone with you. Those brides are companions, not significant others, hell they're not even named in the novel or barely acknowledged by him. Those humans are prey, not equals. He can try to portray himself as basically animalistic, he has emotions and he doesn't like that he has emotions. He's just really fucking sad.

Like. This is literally the most pathetic man I've ever seen.

The fact that he doesn't seem to hold a grudge against Abraham and his crew - on the contrary, he seems to admire them and puts them on a pedestal - shows that he longed to be beaten. He was tired. He needed novelty.

Now i don't know what fucked up experiments Abraham did on that poor thing but clearly he wasn't as powerful as Alucard is, but I doubt that increase in power changed much of anything to be honest. Man is just as miserable as he was before, but now he actually has a purpose - he has someone to serve, a master, someone to cling to.

And boy does he cling to them.

He respects Abraham and Arthur, both men who've undeniably hurt him, Abraham with the experiments and Arthur by leaving him to rot for 20 years (understandable, yes, but still I wouldn't like it if that was me) and yet he's shown them great respect. It's almost Stockholm syndrome (something that I don't believe in and isn't backed by science, but the idea stands) and his idea of any kind of functional relationship is unfathomably fucked up.

I won't dwell on Alucard too much since this is about Dracula, but it's actually rather easy to piece together his mental state and outlook on life with the few pieces we got. Someone please come help this man.

That's that!

I would also like to shoutout to @catsvrsdogscatswin for their wonderful characterization of Dracula and Alucard altogether, but mostly in their fic Kaleidoscope, which is unironically and not hyperbole my favorite fic on ao3 up to date.

Seriously. Go check it out.

#hellsing #alucard #long post #dracula #bram stoker #ask response #i don't know if I got my point across

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meandorla · 2 years ago

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So grateful to @pedrostories for making this Christmas so very merry for us all with this fic exchange! Gorgeous @grogusmum - I wrote this for you! ❤️ Thank you for your perfect prompt. It's been a while since I wrote fiction and ashamed to say I got UP IN MY HEAD over this - wrote three, hated them all, and eventually decided this was the best. I hope it's ok and it brings you some well-deserved joy! (And I apologise for all of my typos. I will be back for another review with fresh eyes in the morning!)

Prompt: "We're not going anywhere in this snow" Din/F Reader. Post Razor's Crest. CW: Language. Mild angst; some self-loathing; vague and non-specific references to a difficult past. Loneliness. Light jealousy, some fluff. Also, like... Elsa-powers? I don't really know how that happened. I really hope it's ok!

A Spell Of Winter

This is the shit all your nightmares are made of.

It hasn’t been like this for years. Not since you were a kid, when the toxic cocktail of fresh teenage hormones and unexplained abilities had turned your world on its head. “A hot mess” your sister had jokingly called you back then, until your fuck ups grew increasingly serious, and then nobody laughed anymore.

The control you have gained since that time has been bitterly won. Long, lonely years of bleak isolation; an entire cycle spent in silence contemplation with the B'omarr monks. Even been a brief, disastrous foray into black-market pharmaceuticals. It’s been messy. It’s been cruel. But you’ve always thought the silver lining was in the happyish ending, at least. That it had all brought you here, to the the life you have now. To the fragile but burgeoning trust you now hold for your body and skills. In your ability to confidently control what it does.

From the start, the Mandalorian had seemed like the perfect partner. You appreciated the economy he applied to existence: speaking only when needed, moving only to act. After so long alone you couldn't handle much small talk. You weren’t looking for friendship, just a mutually beneficial exchange.

You had a ship. He had guild membership.

You each had the thing that the other had lost.

He asked you no questions when you showed him your ship; offered no comment on the heavy industrial insulation he could see you’d installed on the walls. He’d simply set his own pack down in the small, empty bunk room, then moved himself to the cockpit for the pre-flight checks.

Those early tandem hunts had gone almost impossibly well. To your surprise you found you made for a balanced match, your assorted particular skill sets tessellating well. His: body strength, complex weapons, tech-supported bounty tracking. Yours: data analysis, covert intelligence and emerging and innovative tech.

To your surprise you found you were naturally fluent in the language of body movements. He just made immediate sense to you- a small turn of a shoulder, a nod of the head. He read you with similar ease, the closest thing you've ever known to a metaphorical pair of extra hands.

It made it easy. It made it nice.

Nice enough that when you fuck up and he finally sees your abilities, you're really afraid that he’ll run.

You blame the hunt. It’s been seven long day cycles, both of you trudging through dense, humid rainforest that seemed to slither with unseen and unsettling life.

The bounty had proven irritatingly illusive. Even with two of you his on his tail it had all taken longer than expected and by the time you finally corner him by a rock-face you are aching. Bone weary, ravenous and more than a little on edge.

You must telegraph it with every muscle and movement. You known Mando reads your frustration with ease. It's clear in the way he steps back to let you handle the bounty. How he holds back his offers of help.

The mark is noisy; kicking and fighting, cursing in multiple tongues. It’s nothing more than you're used to but then spits at you - thick and visceral - right in the middle of your face. His hissing voice calls you a schutta, asks the Mandalorian why he’s letting his hooker tie him up.

Something snaps in you then. Before you can think, before you can regulate, the guy has ceased all his fighting, cold and solid beneath your grip. You look down to see a soft frost of ice crystals drifting over his hair.

Frozen. Fuck. You lost control again. So you swallow the panic that flares in your chest, steel yourself for rejection. In the long years of living like this you must surely have faced just about every possible reaction to your undesirable gifts.

Every reaction, it turns out, except one, as you turn to take in the Mandalorian at your rear.

He isn’t running. He doesn't look afraid. Every line of his body is relaxed, in fact: hands resting just at his hips, his stance casually open and loose.

His helmet tilts slowly, his shoulders dipping in a shrug. “Saves on the carbonite” he finally deadpans, and then he is hoisting the bountysicle over his shoulder and leading you back to your ship without further comment.

You walk behind him in silence with your mouth hung agape. Mind reeling, fingers still tingling with prickles of frost.

In hindsight, that's probably when all of your problems began.

Because Mando’s lack of reaction had you enthralled after that. You’ve never known this before - this simple acceptance, this unquestioning acknowledgement of whatever you are. It floods in to fill something old, dry and empty inside of you. As if you’ve been stuck under water, and he’s helping you take a first desperate breath.

After that you start to let him see other small glimpses of your abilities. His sunbaked water flask suddenly made icy cool as you trek through the desert; an instant cold compress pressed to his dislocated knee.

And with each of these tiny physical confessions, he seems to open up more in return. One inky, perpetual night he tells you carefully about Grogu, the small child he had to give away. You learn about his creed and his armour, about how he came to be here with you.

You both discover a shared love of kuma-fruit, a competitive penchant for overly-long sabacc games. You find that you like him, this strange, metal man, and it starts to unravel you over time.

You’ve had lovers before; urgent couplings in the back of cantinas, faceless fumbles in 'freshers by night. But this thing with the Mandalorian is entirely different. Delicate and slow, it unfurls in you like a flower, pulling you into a full and reluctant bloom.

The smallest touch of his glove leaves you breathlessly heated. You linger late in your cabin, slick and frantic fingers fighting to relieve how you ache.

You’re fairly sure he is feeling a similar tension. It flares in the unnecessary curl of his hand at your hipbone as he passes you close in the hold. It’s there as his gaze seems to settle on your face in the quiet.

It burns quietly between you, a small, simmering pilot light, and you find yourself nervous that you might accidentally snuff it all out.

So you continue - marvelling at how this quiet, stoic man has you speaking more than you can ever remember, and aching at how you can say everything except what you really want.

Sometimes, in the gentle hum of hyperspace, he will strip some of his armour away. Pad around the ship in his socked feet and only the form-fitting flex of his tactical layers. You try not to stare at the wide, expansive stretch of his shoulders, the broad, solid heat of his thighs. You don’t let yourself dwell on how he radiates warmth when he's sitting beside you. You work hard not to wonder what's under the next layer of wrapping on this prize.

If he notices the soft glitter of frost that sometimes creeps up the walls in these companionable moments, then he never complains. And if some nights, with your head against his shoulder as the star lines blur to silver before you both, your hot tea cools unusually quickly, well. Maybe that's just the ambience of space.

You can disguise your slip-ups, but you cannot hide the subtle tells of your tension. He starts to call you on it: "you look tense" murmured at you as you drag yourself to the sani-steam; as you brew another pot of strong caff in the tiny kitchen space. Between hunts he starts to take you to a clearing - an expanse of desert or meadow with nobody else around for miles. He’ll set out little targets: empty bottles, ration tins, whatever junk you have to hand. Sweeps an arm at the makeshift shooting range, standing back.

The first time, not understanding, you had lifted your gun.

“No" he says sharply, taking the rifle with care. “Your way. Let me see." He tilts his head to the tins - scattered around the field, watching you, like a tiny audience of faceless droids.

You raise a shaking, tentative hand, and loosen a glimmering bolt of high-pressured winter from your palm. The can chimes like a bell as it falls to the ground, a sudden rush of warmth and giddiness bubbling out of you in a loud and exhilarated laugh. You spin towards him and delight in his reaction: stumbled back and clearly staring, you could swear you can taste his grin.

It gives you confidence. It makes it fun. You toss a can into the air then cast a perfect arch of ice to slide it smoothly to the ground. You swirl a flurry of frost flakes together to coat all the leaves and branches on a tree. Draw up the dew drops on the grasses to make specks of glitter in the air.

He regards you you, open steadily. You let yourself bask in his intensity feeling warm and bright.

One night, slumped in the hold sharing a bottle of spotchka you confess how for so long your own powers have had you full of fear. You speak of all that you’ve lost since this 'gift' had emerged in you; of your parents, your sister, your friends and your hopes. You tell him how it feels to do terrible things against all of your will. How you worry that you are cursed. That it's your punishment now to be forever alone. He listens with warm, silent focus, then surprises you by leaning forward and cupping a glove to your cheek.

“We are not born, we become,” he tells you, voice low and sincere. “Ni haa'taylir an be gar” [I see all of you].

His hand lingers there, warm on your face. You stare up, but all you can see is the reflection of your own, tipsy gaze. You lick your lips and swallow, feel something living and fierce flare to life in the narrow space between you both.

And then the spotcha bottle explodes in your hand.

You leap apart and look down. Shards of glass and amongst them, tiny frozen fragments in luminous blue. The warm thrum of possibility within you is doused in shame.

You lost control. Again. It feels like an omen - the galaxy’s warning for wanting things you will never deserve to have.

After that you pull away from him, actively tamp down the fire. You spend more time closed away, cold and alone in your cabin. You let him pilot you both to Nevarro. Lie awake, reading boring old datapads, trying to quiet your frantic mind.

In your fragmented meal times and curt cockpit check-ins, neither of you talk about what will happen next. You’re not sure that you can face either alternative: whether he stays or he goes, you know it is going to hurt.

The landing on Nevada is smooth. Karga’s men are waiting ready to unload your shared haul. Mando launches the shut-down sequence while you open the hold.

The volcanic heat hits you like something solid as the boarding ramp lowers; you have to steady your spine, take a deep, final breath of cold air from the ship.

The two of you walk into town in a delicate silence. Now and again you can sense the Mandalorian is looking at you, but he volunteers nothing, and you feel grateful for it.

Once you hit the cantina, you go to sit apart. Your lost Guild trading licence excludes you from official bounty discussions. Besides which, the long line of colourful bottles at the back of the bar is already calling your name.

You perch at the counter, order a drink. What the spotchka lacks in flavour it makes up for in kick, and you swallow the burn, watching Mando slide into a dark corner booth. Seated opposite Mando you see Karga, and beside him there's a woman - long dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes.

She glances up in your direction and your nerves start to jangle with unwelcome unease.

You turn your back to the party, return your focus to drink. The first glass is over too quickly so you order a second, desperately chasing some hazy sense of calm. By the end of the second you have even stopped tasting the burn. It feels cool to you now, almost numb in your throat.

Chancing a quick glance at Mando you see that the woman is sitting beside him now. The two seem familiar; you note how she rests her hand on his arm, how he doesn’t move it away. You watch how he tilts his head in her direction when she says something low. You take another cold gulp of spotchka and hope for its magical numbing property to spread through your chest.

Pucks and credits pass across the table and Karga calls his goodbyes, but still the Mandalorian and the mystery woman stay sequestered in the booth. You imagine that you can feel the hum of his baritone; it grumbles up through the floor to vibrate inside of your bones. You hear her laugh, low and sultry, carrying high across the crowd.

It occurs to you then just how foolish you've been. How it never even occurred to you that the Mandalorian would have friendships beyond yourself. Allies, partners. Lovers, paramours. Dark-haired women with flickering eyes and that easy familiarity you have never had the chance to know.

You steal another look across and he catches you - his helmet tuned, sharp and precise to where you sit. You turn away hurriedly as if it will save you; as if you can remove the burn of envy he must have seen on your face.

It all aches, aches impossibly, and suddenly you are too tired to think. You sink your head into your hands, elbows burning into the cold metal bar top, willing yourself to find the fortitude to just get up and go. With glazed eyes you look down, half unseeing, at the patina of whirls and bracken etched across the aged metal countertop.

It seems to dance before your eyes; you watch it dully, head swimming, until the girl behind the counter lets out a sudden, sharp cry. Dread, cold and familiar flares to life in your lungs. The air is gelid. You find that you're scared to look up.

A hush falls across the cantina. From between your hands you can see it: long fingers of frost creeping steadily across the wall. They sparkle prettily in the light, forming the same swirling organic pattern you had traced on the on the bar. Before you, server is stock still and wide eyed, her pretty face painted in fear.

Your blood starts to roar in your ears. Your brain starts to scream all of the worst things it knows.

You make yourself swallow, try to suck in a breath. Control. You have control over this.

Tiny shrill sounds of contraction sound all around you, crackling and tinkling. Breathe in. Breathe out. From somewhere behind you can hear the Mandalorian’s companion, sotto voice, asking “What’s wrong with her?”. You push your shaking legs to stand. One by one, the colours bottles on the shelf behind the bar begin to fracture and break. In an explosion of glitter glass, you stumble blindly towards the door. All around you, patrons are doing the same thing. Scurrying for exits, toppling tables and glasses and one another in their wake.

You don’t turn around to see whether Mando has also escaped you. Can’t decide if it would be better or worse if he has.

Reaching the exit you surge through the door, eyes and lungs burning as you stumble to a halt. Everything is wrong - the world made impossibly bright. The sun is still shining down warmly, but all around you the rich volcanic colours of Nervarra have been drained away. Like an overexposed holo, the world around you is dazzling and white. Your gasping breath puffs like ion clouds in the gelid air.

You take a step, feel the powder crunch beneath your boot.

Just as it feels like you will become completely untethered, you feel a warm presence at your back. Then there’s a hand, warm and solid, pressing firm against your spine.

“Mesh'la” he says, voice soft, calm and coaxing. “It’s ok.”

Except, of course, it isn’t. This is a desert planet. There is an active volcano here!

“I’m a monster” you breathe, unable to keep the truth to yourself any longer.

The hand presses into you more firmly. You feel where his chest plate meets one of your shoulder blades, feel how it's you who is solid and unyielding when compared to the steel.

He is staring beyond you, looking out to the street. You follow his gaze, rapt in your misery, determined to share in this final exchange. A tangle of children are spilling out of a building, all of them squealing and laughing. They gather wet handfuls up from the ground and fling them at one another. You both watch as they holler and whoop and chase all around.

Further down, you spy an elderly market vendor, the bright splash of her apron the only colour in the scene. She holds her shaking, aged hands out palm-upwards, her face tilted back as she cackles up at the sky. Beside her, from in her skirts, a small child throws himself down horizontal and begins to pump his arms back and forth like a bird.

“It looks beautiful to me” the Mandalorian says somewhere close to your ear.

“I can’t control it any more”. It comes out as a whisper. It's all of your greatest shame.

“It’s ok” he replies, near enough now for you to feel the electric hum of the vocoder at work. "It's ok. Let me help"

You're still frozen, locked in time, unable to trust yourself with whatever comes next. Unable to hope that what he is offering could be real. Unwilling to take down the wall of ice you've had to build around your heart.

The hand on your back slides a little lower, resting right on the edge of propriety.

“You seem tense" he murmurs, the audible trace of a smirk in his voice. "I can help with that too, if you like". His voice is heated enough to melt glaciers. You feel the tiny trickle of a thaw.

Sighing, you relent, leaning back into the warmth of his form. Your whole body is heavy and languid. The children squeal in delight as the snow starts to drip. Half an hour, and all of this will be gone.

“Karga keeps a room in the inn upstairs" your Mandalorian tells you. “We can stay here tonight.”

“Together?” you ask, equally hopeful and incredulous.

His dark rumble of amusement makes you warm to your toes.

“Well" he says, that wayward hand sliding possessively to wrap right around your waist. "We aren’t going anywhere in this snow now, are we?”

#pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift22 #pedro pascal #din djarin / reader #din djarin x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian / reader

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feed-me-sunlight · 10 months ago

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I have been busy as fuck lately trying to get my life together, which has included coordinating moving into my own place (so many fucking steps to this. so much budgeting. so many phone calls. i am hanging on by a thread but I finally got my keys Thursday.) My broken wrist is also healed and my arm is breathing fresh air again. I have also been working with a couple of psychiatrists to try to get a better understanding of myself and seek help with some difficulties which are often limiting if not debilitating for me. Today the doctor who evaluated me finished his analysis that he's been working on for a couple of weeks and the results are in:

DSM-5-TR Diagnostic Impressions: F43.10 Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder F40.10 Social Anxiety Disorder F33.0 Major Depressive Disorder, recurrent episode, mild F90.0 Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder, predominately inattentive presentation

Despite the executive hell this has been it's super validating to ~officially~ have this observed and documented by someone with a PhD. The medication I got from the psych NP about a month ago has been a big help too. I'm turning 30 in like 2 weeks and this is the first time in my life I feel like I'm maybe gonna be ok in this crazy old world. All it takes is a big team of various specialists to ensure I don't collapse!!

Anyway, here's a funny tidbit from his report to wrap this post up:

"Of note, Katie was dressed in mostly pink clothing and accessories during the assessment. She shared with the examiner that it “has been a goal lately,” and that she “took inspiration from watching Legally Blonde."

#DID HE REALLY HAVE TO INCLUDE THAT PART LMAO #personal

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angelinaaabn · 2 years ago

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A few commonly used VC analysis on hand

1. Saiberg vc powder:20%vc derivatives, composition simplification

Sort of the oldest of vc, a very classic one. It was very popular when other vc products were not popular on the market. It is very useful for accelerating the dilution of local pimple. The texture of the powder transfer cream can be applied directly on the face or mixed into the cream to brighten and even the skin tone. Suitable for night use.

Advantages are not like liquid vc will stain yellow face, powder preservation will be more stable is not easy to deactivate and turn yellow, dry face is not oil, simple composition, so sensitive skin can also be used, easy to take out .

The disadvantage is that it should be turned carefully, otherwise it is easy to spill.

2. Sulicol cf 15%vc+ phloderin +0.5 ferulic acid.

3 Senrisch 17.5%vc➕ lipoic acid grape seed ergothione, etc.

The reason these two are put together is that they are almost identical in texture and skin feel, and they sting slightly. Suitable for oily skin or summer.

The active antioxidant Zenlisch is relatively more, and the formula is luxurious.

But Senelische oxidizes faster, turning discolored within two months. If the use of larger can choose Senlisch.

The downside is that neither is cheap.

4.obagi

In addition to the local version, there are Japanese, Japanese mainly contains vc➕ve➕ snow glycoside and so on.

I've used it in different concentrations and versions, but the Japanese formula has several soothing and moisturizing ingredients for dry skin. It's also a relatively mild product I've used in the vc category.

The local version has very simple ingredients. There is little difference in usage. It all feels oily. So summer and oil skin may feel greasy.

Both have excellent antioxidant speeds and remain clear long after opening. And a high concentration of 20%, personally, I like it very much ! Especially in winter.

5. Kiehl's Anse Bottle, vc+5% Bose + salicylic acid. I use it at night, too. Positioning slightly awkward, the main ingredient is not clear. It is said that the content of vc derivatives is only 2%, the main light spot does not feel, but I use down the overall brightening skin tone is still ok. I see a lot of people on this bottle of criticism is quite a lot, probably because of the salicylic acid and alcohol are not friendly to sensitive skin .

6.verso's super c. Relatively stable vc-ip. Temporarily not used for a long time, the effect from evaluation is not good ,but the feeling of use is good , is relatively dry cream texture, no oil, skin feeling is very refreshing, specific effects will be feedback later

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shokami · 3 years ago

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pairing ; gojo satoru x reader

genre ; secret dating. ANGST. humor, fluff, & angst

synopsis ; a small town florist finds themselves moving across the country to tokyo, after a childhood friend promised to help fund their new business in the city… from flowers, to accidental meetings, and hidden worlds — will lies and fear of the unknown turn into a christmas dream, or an aching heartbreak?

authors notes ; in this smau, it’s post the plot of the anime and everything is totally okay. we’re just gonna pretend certain events never happened :) everyone is happy and chaotic ok

warnings ; extreme language, 18+ behavior, mentions of mild smut themes, use of alcohol. proceed with caution.

status ; COMPLETED.

taglist ; CLOSED.

mei mei’s harem | tokyo’s whores | gojo & disciples

chapter one : WHAT IF I WAS GAY???

chapter two : the errand boy

chapter three : a lot like christmas

chapter four : misinterpretation

chapter five : caramel vodka and lying

chapter six : three day mei mei vacation

chapter seven : hokkaido catastrophe

chapter eight : even hell won’t want me

chapter nine : hallelujah

chapter ten : promise me this

chapter eleven : beginning of the awaited truth

chapter twelve : what if i told you a secret?

chapter thirteen : you’re a SIMP

chapter fourteen : i hear a symphony

chapter fifteen : i am creation

chapter sixteen : LOW BLOW

chapter seventeen : the ocean and moon

chapter eighteen : SHARING IS CARING

chapter nineteen : i forgive you.

chapter twenty : fairytale

epilogue : where are they now? (headcanons)

extra content

#drabble : a solo act

#series playlist : the inescapable truth

#analysis : y/n’s techniques + history

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minheelovelee · 2 years ago

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Yuna sex toys

A mildly in-depth analysis of what sex toys Yuna would use OR what I would love to see her use. I see her as a horny lesbian, and this post definitely shows that.

Warning: NSFW pictures of toys

Rabbit Vibrators

She would love this one so much. The focus on her g-spot as well as the ears pinching her clit would make her cum so fast. This would be her go-to. Pretty self explanatory, every chick needs a rabbit!

With her heels thrown toward the ceiling, Yuna fucks into herself swiftly. The buzzing feeling of her new toy is addicting. It hits the sensitive spots inside that she usually can’t reach, and pushes the little button outside that she usually abuses. The blend is amazing, and quickly brings her to her orgasm, leaving her to clamp on the toy and roll to her side.

3-In-One Rabbit Vibrators

I'm a firm believer of Yuna anal-princess. The anal limb(?) here reaches further than her fingers, so she appreciates that. If she was home alone, she'd for sure crack out this bad boy. The rabbits with beads are so fucking loud, so she couldn't mess around with it if anyone was home. The nose of the bunny would kiss her clit, and the ears might even hold back the hood. She'd for sure enjoy this, but it might be under her bed sporting a thin layer of dust.

Yuna takes a deep breath as she sinks down on her toy. The girthy middle slides inside of her pussy while its' thinner leg presses against her hole. She flexes her abdominal muscles when she reaches behind her body and grabs the toy. The rough carpet below her knees digs into her skin. With a firm grasp on the base, she begins to work her tight holes further onto its' length. Her left hand reaches up to use the corner of her bed to use it as leverage. Finally getting the majority of the toy inside of her, she clicks a couple buttons and it comes to life. A gasp escapes her mouth. She moves her hand from behind her body to in front of her body. With a new grip and position, she begins to ride the buzzing toy, letting the pleasure take control of her actions.

Butt Plugs

I seriously hate using these two words together.

She might give you a nice surprise every once and a while and show up to your place already prepped with a plug in her ass. I think she’d be down for any kind, but I’m really fixated on the idea of her having one with a pink bunny tail. I’m obviously pro-bunnygirl Yuna as well. She wants to fuck like rabbits, so give her a tail!

Yuna was half on the floor, half on the couch. Her upper body was relying on her forearms to keep her face off the ground, while the lower half had its' legs spread on either side of her girlfriends' lap. Cuddling is usually a mild activity. But when you notice a little fur sticking out the top of Yuna's tiny shorts, it piqued your curiosity. When pulling on it caused Yuna to whimper, she quickly ended up bent over your lap with her shorts at her ankles. Yuna cries out her apologies, but there's no need. You love this. Gliding a finger through her dripping folds, you decide to turn her 90 degrees for a new position. The position where Yuna gets her clit played with like a toy and her ass stretched out on your fingers.

Strapless-Strapon

Ok keep an open mind when reading this.

I don’t really think Yuna tops. She really likes for her partner to have a strapless strap on when they top. Then they’re both feeling good, and it’s like they have an actual cock. BUT. When she’s alone, she likes to put on the strap and jerk off. It hits her clit just right and it feels so nice inside her. She’ll get it wet with her cum or some lube to make it easier. I also fully believe she likes to fuck things with it. Like a pocket pussy or her poor stuffed animals. Probably not her girlfriend though, maybe she’d top during a hook-up.

Male Masturbators

Hear me out! HAHA.

Okay this goes along with my last part just a little. She might like to have one of those tiny dolls that’s just the torso. It’s very versatile! She would fuck it with the strap, let it fuck her with the strap, tribe with it, give it head, rub her clit on its nipple, hump the tummy and ass, and try to fuck it with her clit.

Probably whispering how’s she’s gonna give it her cum and fill it up.

Clit Pump

WHAT MORE IS THERE FOR ME TO SAY. She lovesssss this shit. It hurts just right. She would get her clit all big and sensitive for you to play with it. Or she might pump up her clit to stick it in something. I like to believe YN already has a big clit, but if it’s a little bigger, she can fuck or trib her lady to the max.

Kekekeke

#itzy smut #mhll itzy #mhll Yuna #mhll hits

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cersworld · 2 years ago

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scene ³

SYNOPSIS: y/n has had just about enough with the general public and their inability to keep their thoughts and opinions to themselves. park jisung likes to think he's living his best life, which he kind of is. park sunghoon likes to portray himself as someone calm and collected, someone who has their life together; he likes to pretend he’s everything he's not. luckily, sim jaeyun seems to be with him every step of the way.

WARNINGS: swearing, mild violence, stereotyping, queer characters, emotional vacancy (she can't express her emotions well, outwardly), jay is definitely presented as the bad guy so be warned, a lot of feels, identity crises (not really?), inappropriate jokes (sexual and worrying *cough* eg. ED/binging, alexithymia *cough*), etc.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

psychology. the one class in which you can openly judge (read: criticise) all of history's biggest names and 'best' leaders. or at least that’s what you did last year, somehow earning yourself an a in the course because, in mrs amer's words, your analysis was 'detailed and beautifully presented to represent the inner workings of the human brain.' yeah.

now, however, you were currently rethinking all of your life decisions because of the one word that was scrawled in big, bubbled writing on the whiteboard. shaded and coloured in, and everything. one word. eight letters.

fuck’s sake, you internally groan, sagging in your chair as you watch a short, bright-eyed woman walk into the classroom with a large pile of folders and papers in her arms.

"hello, everyone!" she chirped as she dumped her stuff on her table, "i'm miss roy! i’m here as mrs amer’s sub while she’s off on maternity leave. now, to get straight to the point, we will be spending this year analysing human feelings and emotions!”

she paused for dramatic effect, only to be met with complete silence, before clapping her hands and continuing, “okay! anyway, i’m gonna go ahead and pair you up, randomly.” now that statement was met with loud groans and sighs.

you could see miss roy’s eye roll from the back of the room as she began to rattle off pair after pair. you tuned her out, instead choosing to blankly stare at the board and hope you got paired up with a nice person.

you heard a throat clear beside you, causing you to slowly turn to the source, etching a practised, bright smile onto your face as you looked up at the shy boy.

“hi.” you said simply, looking the boy in his eyes as he continued to wring his hands in your peripheral and tried his best to smile back at you.

“hi. i’m jisung…as you can probably guess because she called our names together but y’know for the sake of politeness and…stuff.” the boy glanced around, avoiding eye contact as he rambled.

you couldn’t help the warmth from seeping into your eyes and smile, relaxing as you found no instant issues with the boy. you pulled out the vacant seat beside you, patting it as you spoke, “i’m y/n, come sit.”

“o-ok.” the boy stumbled and almost fell on you, causing you to instantly freeze up as his foot caught on the side of the table. although, before you could go back and question your first decision, the boy started to apologise profusely, righting himself and dropping his satchel onto the table before collapsing into his new chair.

“s-sorry, i’m not usually like this. uh, well actually i am…i’m really clumsy.” the boy breathed out a laugh, looking away again, “sorry.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at that, “don’t worry, you’re fine. i’m sure we’ll be great friends!”

at that jisung bowed his head out of what you thought was embarrassment, when in actuality he was trying to hide his furiously spreading blush. i made her laugh? she's perfect. she is a perfect person. how is that even possible?! que internal screaming.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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ifievertoldyou · 2 years ago

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i literally only got tumblr so i could post my tHAW fanart on here. a valid reason, if you ask me.

cw for mild self injuries in the first panel of “Bad Night?”. it's not graphic at all; there's not even any blood, but if you struggle with seeing scratch marks, i'd suggest skipping to the other drawings. stay safe! 💙

—

"Bad Night?"

[1/2]

He wasn’t expecting to find Quackity in the kitchen part of the open space, elbows resting on the table, face hidden in his palms.

And Q hadn’t ever seen the other quite as disheveled as he was now, hair not brushed neat, shirt all rumpled and he wasn’t wearing his usual two toned waistcoat nor his bowtie, if anything right now he seemed closer to how people usually drew him in the world Q was from than the ordered and composed man he usually was.

[2/2]

The moment he stepped in the room, Quackity’s head shot up, and Q noticed the shine of drying tear tracks under his right eye.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, trying to sound as unbothered as he always was, but… right now Q could see right through that, so he just looked away...

~Chapter 34 of The House Always Wins by @alexanderwesker

mediums: crayola colored pencils (100 pack), #2 pencil, sheet of standard 8.5x11 printer paper

mini-analysis time because this is just who i am as a person, you can skip if you don't wanna read all of this 😭

this scene is one of the few moments that q sees the entirety of quackity shine through all the smoke and mirrors that he hides behind. q has seen quackity's soft side before, however q has almost never seen this broken side of him. he's seen glimpses, but quackity has always masked those glimpses with other emotions, most notably anger, to make his pain seem less apparent. but here, quackity is too tired to do that; he doesn't have any anger left, and q can tell clear as day how sad and scared quackity truly is, even if just for a couple minutes.

(also, you can see quackity's sadness more prominently on his left side than his right, since he doesn't have as much control over that side of his face anymore. and if you look at the character study i did for him below, you can really see the contrast between how he usually looks and how he looks in this.)

tHAW!Quackity Character Study

ignore the awkward angle, it was surprisingly hard to get a picture of this one without my shadow blocking stuff

here's a list of what's on my study sheet and why (left to right)

tHAW!quackity with an annoyed expression. i did this one to help me practice drawing his expressions with the scar, and also drawing him at a different angle.

tHAW!quackity doing his half smile thing. i also tried to draw his hair the way i imagined him styling it to distract from his scar when he goes out. i like to think that that long bit of hair goes behind his ear when he's in private, or just not distracting from his scar.

his teeth. this part helped me figure out where he did and didn't have gold teeth. on another note, i used like 14 different colored pencils for just this mouth. and 50% of those were just different shades of pink for the gums 😭😭😭 but i think it turned out pretty good in the end so ^^

a study on his scar and blind eye. this one helped me figure out how to make the eye look all cloudy and also how to make the scar look more consistent. i'm probably the proudest of this one. ^D^

now have a couple of closeups

ok bonus art time!!

“Bad Night?” wips

uncolored version

also fun fact on the tear stain: i tried to make it look kinda reminiscent to his scar, not only because they'd both sorta follow the shape of his face, but because one side of his face shows his physical scar and the other side shows his emotional scars.

only the physical scar can be seen at all times, and even then, he often styles his hair to distract from it, much like how he distracts from his emotional hurt by making himself appear disinterested. but in this scene he isn't doing either, which is why it's one of my favorites to read. it's so interesting to see this side of quackity, especially from an outside perspective.

ok anyways rambling over, time for some more wips

^thought i'd include the caption that i sent my friend as well ;P

i decided like 20 minutes before posting this that his hair wasn't messy enough so that's why the wips are a lil different from the finished product

^this one isn't exactly a wip, but i always think it's cool to see how many colored pencils i've used after finishing, so i decided to include it ^^

ok that's all. thank you sm for making it all the way to the end of this extremely long post that was basically just an excuse for me to infodump 😭.

while you're here, consider liking and/or reblogging, as any interactions on my art are deeply appreciated, and i'm especially proud of this one ^^

#tHAW #tHAW fanart #the house always wins #quackity #dream smp #dsmp #quackity fanart #my art #character study #traditional art #fanart for a fanfic #new special interest just dropped?#long post #ever spin

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sing-a-sirensong · 3 years ago

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Venomous

A Reed900 Venom AU I had rattling around in my brain, thanks to Discord.

Summary: Gavin’s strange new “roommate” has some questions about human behaviour. Rating: E Warnings: None

On AO3 here

———————

Some people have their entire lives planned out. Others have no plans at all, just letting life take them in any direction it happens to go. Either way, “expect the unexpected” is a commonly spoken phrase. Unexpected changes are a fact of life, all just a part of the human experience. However, there are some events that seem so far out of the realm of possibility that one might wonder about the existence of some giant cosmic joke.

Gavin Reed is not the type of man to wax philosophical, or question some cosmic order, or think about his place in the universe beyond being a damn good detective. Right now, in fact, he’s pondering little more than what to eat for dinner as he stands idly waiting at a crosswalk. Music plays a little too loudly in his earbuds.

Chinese again? Gavin wonders, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. Maybe pizza. Got one of those coupon books in the mail.

He’s pulled from his musings by a touch against his shoulder, an accidental bump by another pedestrian crossing the opposite direction. Gavin turns his head as they walk away, allowing himself a brief up-and-down glance at the retreating figure. Tall, fitted slacks, legs a mile long. Fuck. Gavin thinks, I haven’t gotten laid in ages.

Gavin.

He sighs tiredly, pausing his music. He’s gotten so used to the internal commentary by now that he doesn’t even feel surprised anymore when his new… roommate pipes up.

“Yeah tar pit?” He answers, out loud. He fiddles absently with his earphones, grateful for the wonders of modern technology that keep him from looking like a complete lunatic talking to himself.

Having offspring now would be very inconvenient.

“W-What?” Gavin stutters, taken off guard by the odd choice of topic. “Dude, what the fuck are you talking about.” A mild annoyance that was not his own filtered into his mind.

That other human. You considered procreating with them.

He scrubbed a hand over his unshaven face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That isn’t- ok first of all, don’t call it that. And second of all, this isn’t a conversation to have in public. Just wait five minutes until we get home.” The feeling of annoyance settled slightly, and his head was quiet again.

Less than five minutes later, in the elevator to his apartment, the peace was broken.

We should not have pizza for dinner again. It is not healthy for us to have such an unvaried diet.

Gavin sighs again, something he seemed to do a lot more frequently now. He steps off the elevator, walking down the hall.

“Alright, how about the chicken alfredo from that place around the corner?” He suggests, unlocking the door and stepping in, shrugging off his jacket and shoes. “I’ll even get it with broccoli so we can eat one whole vegetable.”

Can we get the chocolate lava cake?

Gavin snorts, warm fondness settling in his chest. “Yeah buddy, we can get the chocolate lava cake.”

Excellent.

A cantankerous meow signals the presence of Princess Peanut; Gavin’s crotchety, cranky, three-legged very senior cat. She stares up at him with two murky orange eyes and lets out another raspy howl. How rude of him to set foot in his own home and not pay attention to her immediately upon arrival.

Gavin feels the now-familiar sensation of Nines manifesting physical form, a feeling akin to peeling tape or glue off of your skin, except it feels more everywhere. The odd creature Gavin now shares his body with leans down, bracing their weight on one hand and gently petting the cat with the other. It’s adorable, in a heartwarming, eldritch horror sort of way.

Nines appears to be a young man, looking almost human enough. Dark brown hair that sometimes slips into curling tendrils, blue-grey eyes that almost seem to glow, black stained nails that might be a little too sharp, gleaming white teeth that are definitely too sharp, and pale skin that’s just a touch too grey, fading into the swirling black mass at his hips where he emerges from Gavin’s torso.

But as odd as it is, Gavin thinks this appearance is for his benefit. He knows that isn’t what Nines looked like the first time he showed himself to Gavin. He remembers it being almost… mechanical looking. All sharp lines, and sleek inky blackness. Two glowing eyes. Of course Gavin had been completely losing his mind at the time, in the middle of a (very understandable) breakdown, so his memories may be slightly exaggerated.

Another grouchy meow jolts Gavin into motion, Nines retreating back under his skin.

“Alright you fucking Nut, I’m getting to it.” Gavin grumbles, opening a fresh tin for the princess’s dinner. He gives her a quick scratch under the chin, and leaves the kitchen to flop on the couch.

Gavin.

He hums in acknowledgment, idly considering a nap before dinner.

We are home.

“Yeah tar pit, we are.” He mumbles.

We can continue the conversation about procreation now.

Gavin’s eyes snap open, wide awake now. “Uh, yeah, I guess you’re right. Fuck, um.” He sits up, scraping his fingers roughly through his hair. “First of all, don’t call it that. It’s just sex. It’s not really about making babies or whatever, it’s to relieve tension. Because it just uh, feels good. Really good.”

Unintentionally, Gavin remembers being bent over various pieces of furniture and fucked silly by his previous trysts. He flushes slightly with embarrassment, Nines definitely saw that. He’s still getting used to sharing a brain, sue him.

An unconvinced murmur brings Gavin back to the present, Nines was apparently finished rifling through his sexual encounter memory catalogue.

The process of pursuing a sexual partner seems time-consuming and difficult. Why bother if it is not necessary? Your failures outnumber your successes.

“Way to kick a guy when he’s down.” Gavin grumbles, but he knows the question is genuine and Nines has no malicious intent behind his statement. Nines simply thinks in terms of numbers; success and failure, yes and no, black and white. Gavin sighs.

“I guess you technically don’t really need a partner, it’s just sometimes better when you’ve got one.” He explains, allowing Nines a very short glimpse of Gavin’s moments in bed or in the shower with just his hand for company. He can feel Nines consider this new information.

A much more logical approach with a significantly higher success rate.

Gavin huffs out a laugh at Nines’ rational analysis, scratching idly at his chin.

“You’re not wrong.” He says.

Show me.

“What?! No!” Gavin splutters, instinctively alarmed at the thought.

Why not?

“Because it’s fucking private, not some part of fascinating human culture to observe through a microscope!” A ridiculous point to make to someone that lives in his head and can read all his thoughts.

Gavin can practically feel the unimpressed look Nines is giving him.

Hm. It sounds like you are being a little bitch.

Gavin barks out a surprised laugh. He’s clearly been a bad influence on Nines’ vocabulary. That warm fondness bubbles up in his chest again and he runs a hand through his hair. You know what, why the fuck not? His life is already so fucking weird, this might as well happen.

“Shit, alright, why not.” He stands. “But we’re not gonna stay out here for this.” He closes the door behind him once he’s in the bedroom. Gavin does not want an untimely cat-shaped interruption. He strips down, tossing his clothes on the floor haphazardly, and lays flat on the bed. This, at least, isn’t unfamiliar territory. Nines has to be with him in the shower, and he’s merged with all his cells or whatever, so it’s not like he doesn’t know what Gavin looks like naked.

Gavin relaxes into the sheets, one arm folded behind his head and the other palm resting on his stomach. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply, and tries to pretend this is just like any other time he’s jerked off.

This is not very interesting.

Gavin can’t hold back his amused snort at the obviously unimpressed tone, but he feigns irritation anyways. “Yeah I’m going, I’m going.” He grumbles.

He skims a hand down his belly, palming between his legs. This isn’t going to take long, he thinks, the barest touch and he’s already filling out from the anticipation of finally getting off.

Gavin eases into it, stroking slowly over hardening flesh. Pleasure sparks low in his belly, but doesn’t want to overwhelm Nines with too much too fast. But the mental feedback Gavin is receiving seems to just be curiosity at the new sensations, and steadily increasing interest.

I think I am beginning to understand why humans choose to do this.

Gavin’s dick twitches at the low voice echoing in his head, and he laughs weakly. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” He jokes.

On the next upstroke he twists his wrist, fingers tracing a vein along the underside. He bites back a small noise, forcing his breathing to stay even and trying to quell the simmering heat in his belly.

Do that again.

Gavin’s breath stutters at the abrupt demand, but he complies, hand speeding up and thumb smearing a pearl of precome over the sensitive head. His hips jump and the fingernails of his opposite hand dig into his palm.

“Nines I- ahh, uhm,” Gavin pauses to swallow hard, “I’m not gonna- ah- not gonna last long. S’been a while.” He manages to grit out. Fuck he’s gonna have a hard time keeping quiet.

His cock is getting slick in his grip, leaking steadily now. Gavin would feel embarrassed, if he thought Nines cared even a slight bit about how long he lasted. A groan escapes him on the next swipe over the tip, and Gavin brings his hand down from under his head and bites his knuckle to muffle the noises.

I want to try.

Gavin wheezes like he’s been punched, nearly sitting straight up in shock.

“You what?” He chokes out. But after the initial surprise of the request, Gavin is slammed with a wave of arousal at the thought of Nines touching him. He squirms in place a little.

I want to touch you.

Gavin’s cock throbs in his grip. He can feel the hungry curiosity from Nines filtering through his mind, and yeah, fuck, why not. He settles back into the blankets, cautiously laying his hand by his side.

“Oh-kay, yeah alright.” He breathes. “Just be careful alright? Us humans are fucking fragile.”

I would never hurt you.

Gavin feels a pinch of emotion at the sincerity in his statement, and relaxes further into the bed. He gives Nines the mental go-ahead.

A familiar sensation starts up on his skin, and Gavin looks down to see rippling darkness emerge and pool across his hips, brushing against his cock. Against his overheated skin, it’s fucking cold.

Gavin instinctively jerks his hips back and yelps.

“Shit that’s cold, Nines, fuck.” An apologetic hum echoes through his mind, and Nines pauses briefly. He resumes his path after a moment and covers Gavin’s cock entirely, deliciously hot this time and squeezes. Gavin curses.

Better?

“Yeah, fuck, how’d you do that?” He gasps, fingers gripping the sheets.

Temperature regulation is imperative for survival.

The reply is offhanded, most of Nines’ focus now on consuming Gavin’s responses to his touch.

Gavin groans, his head tilting back in the pillow. Christ it feels so good, hot and tight and slick. He moans raggedly, praise falling from his lips.

“Just like that, fuck that’s- that’s good, keep going.” Nines trills happily at the praise, spreading further up Gavin’s abdomen. Curious tendrils flick at Gavin’s nipples, and his hands fly up, gripping the pillow above his head. Nines continues to play with his chest, and Gavin arches into his touch.

The grip around his cock is scorching, twisting sweetly over the tip with every squeeze. Gavin squirms with pleasure, futilely thrusting his hips up.

More of Nines’ inky form skates greedily across his skin, drinking in every one of Gavin’s reactions. He twines up Gavin’s arms, winding around his wrists and through his fingers, pinning his arms above his head.

Black tendrils slide down the inside of his thighs, and Gavin spreads his legs without realizing, rocking his hips desperately. Nines smoothes over his body, pressing Gavin’s thighs wider. Gavin lets out a whine, feeling filthy and on display. He tugs against the hold on his arms, whining again when there’s no give.

Gavin always had a thing for being manhandled but fuck, this was- fuck.

“Oh God, fuck- ohhh don’t stop- baby don’t stop-” Gavin pleads. Nines is purring in his mind, eagerly devouring his pleasure, experiencing it with him.

Gavin keens at the feeling of something prodding at his entrance, nodding frantically and gasping when it presses inside.

It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, smooth and slick tendrils sliding into him and exploring, swelling inside him until he’s filled so perfectly. He shudders and clenches down, gasping at the fullness.

Fuck, then Nines starts moving, not thrusting but pulsing, rubbing deliciously against his inner walls. Gavin moans with every movement, drooling onto the pillow as his throaty ah ah ah’s fill the room.

Gavin’s drowning in pleasure, his eyes rolling back in his head. But then Nines presses up firmly, directly into his prostate, squeezing around Gavin’s cock at the same time. Gavin very nearly wails, babbling desperately.

“Oh fuck, baby I’m so close- Nines, please sweetheart, I’m gonna come- don’t stop, baby please don’t stop-” He begs, writhing in Nines’ all-encompassing hold.

“Gavin.”

His name is growled out loud, Gavin hears it right next to his ear, not in his mind, and the faint scrape of sharp teeth on his throat tips him over the edge.

Gavin‘s voice cracks on a sob, mewling Nines’ name as he comes in long, aching pulses. His toes curl as pleasure rips through him so strongly it almost hurts. He clenches down hard on the tendrils inside him, thighs trembling from the force of his orgasm.

Nines keeps moving, drawing it out until Gavin is whimpering from oversensitivity, finally relenting.

Gavin melts into the mattress when Nines releases him, completely boneless. Instead of vanishing beneath his skin, Nines settles across his body like a soothing, form-fitted blanket, petting affectionately at Gavin’s arms and shoulders.

Fuck, Gavin’s never come that hard in his life.

Was my performance satisfactory?

The smugness radiating through their mental bond was almost palpable.

“You’re fucking insufferable.” Gavin slurs, tremors still running intermittently through his muscles.

Perhaps more practice will be needed.

Gavin’s spent dick twitches pathetically at the thought. “If you want.” He mutters hoarsely. Gavin definitely wants. But his eyelids are drooping, and he nestles down into the pillow. A faint question tugs at the edge of Gavin’s mind. “Nap first, food after.” He mumbles, “And I’ll get your lava cake.” A moment’s pause.

… Can we get two lava cakes?

Gavin smiles fondly into the pillow, chuckling quietly at the timid question.

“Yeah baby, we can get two lava cakes.”

#reed900 #venom au #dbh nines #gavin reed #sira writes #fanfic #detroit become human

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the-music-maniac · 4 years ago

Text

I got sucked back into Ever After High, so hoo boy get ready for a long ass analysis about a ship

Did I mean to get sucked into Rapple? Uh, no. Fuck no. I usually make it a point not to sell my entire soul to small fandoms because the inevitable lack of fics will just break my heart. But here we are.

I'm low key distressingly neutral about the canon/popular ships for Ever After High. Namely Dexter x Raven and Apple x Darling. I have absolutely nothing against them, cause they’re both really adorable. I don’t know if appling is canon actually but it is strongly hinted at, and while I’m ecstatic that there’s some form of lgbt rep (however small), and that Dexter isn’t sadboi anymore cause he’s with Raven, I’ve always just liked Apple x Raven way more.

I guess I’m posting this cause I want to analyze why I like Rapple specifically? This isn’t meant to attack either of these ships or shippers in any way btw! This is just my personal opinion, I just felt the need to mention dexter x raven and apple x darling cause they are (for the most part) canon. :))

Tbh i really didn't mean to make such a gigantic analysis about this, but I got carried away lmao.

1. Rapple has a lot of narrative tension and weight:

I feel like rapple has more narrative weight as a ship then most I’ve seen in the Ever After High fandom. These two characters are undeniably the focal point of the story, and while all characters in the show have backstories and well developed characterizations, Raven and Apple are the "leaders" and the main main characters.

Raven with Apple could make for a really a complex and interesting storyline. After all, Ever After High is ALL about breaking free of your pre-determined destiny, it would be the perfect twist in the story for Apple to fall for Raven and vice versa. There's so much more to write with that kind of turn in the story; the growth of a relationship, character development, the backlash they might recieve from a hero and villain together, fighting what everyone else tells them they should be. Honestly if we're gonna go there, it kind of mirrors what lgbt people have to go through on the daily. In my eyes, appling and dexter x raven (I'm sorrryyy I don't know the proper ship name) pales a bit in comparison, just in the amount of weight they carry (not that it HAS to have narrative weight to be a good cute ship of course).

Darling for Apple is also unconventional and a plot twist, cause it no longer follows the stereotypical hetero-normative fairy-tale, and I absolutely ADORE Darling as a character, but in the end she is still a Charming. Apple is still pre-destined to fall for a Charming, she's still following what her destiny tells her she should be, and while that's good on one hand, cause Apple wants to follow her destiny, I feel like when she pulled Raven back from the brink in Wonderland, she realized that destiny is not so set in concrete and what matters more is the people behind those destinies. I think Rapple would really drive in that point; destiny or no destiny that’s not what matters. So while appling does have some narrative tension as well, it doesn’t make me gleefully go “oh my god FUCK, you wonderful DISASTERS, now you’ve gone and done it. Now you've fucking stepped in it. AMAZING.”, y’know? Dexter and Raven is the exact opposite. Destiny-wise it's pretty unique and frowned upon, but again, heterosexual romance (not that I expect all the characters to be lgbt, that's not what I'm saying) so it also doesn't hold as much weight as Rapple. I'm greedy ok? I want both. I want aspects of both. Maybe I'm just a shit-stirrer though lmao, maybe I just need a ship that fucking destroys all expectations and fucks shit up in the process XDD. It's possible *shrugs*

2. The amount of growth they go through together.

So it's pretty undeniable that Apple at the beginning is....um. Selfish, if we're gonna go with mild language. Kind of a bitch if we're gonna go with stronger language. She doesn't give a shit that Raven will have a horrible life if she follows her destiny, all she cares about is her part of the story and her happy ending. But the thing is, Apple doesn't stay like that. She becomes Raven's roommate and friend, and when it really came down to it, during the Wonderland part of the story, even though Apple is the one who gives Raven the book, she doesn't push and shows her support in thinking that Raven is too good to become the evil queen. And then when Raven was almost lost, Apple is the one who pulled her back and told her to choose who she wants to be. She let go of her need for Raven to be evil and saw her as her own person; someone she cares about deeply. Raven on the other hand starts off unsure and kind of insecure. She was still figuring herself out, and trying to resist what everyone is trying to tell her; that she has to be evil. I feel like through her personal growth and Apple's influence she starts to be more settled, confident. And Apple's support before and after she signed her storybook in wonderland definitely helped. This mutual growth actually brings me to my next point:

3. Rapple has a very strong basis for a relationship

So there's a definite reason why I love the concept of enemies to friends to lovers SO MUCH, and despite what people say, no it's not just because of UST (i mean that's a bonus but far from the only reason). What I care about is again, the mutual GROWTH.

What enemies to lovers does (healthy enemies to lovers btw, rivalries and stuff, not abusive shit) is force the two people to confront the worst parts of each other first and foremost. Meeting someone for the purpose of dating/because you like them means you'll put up a fake, mellower version of yourself to impress them, but there's none of that if you start off hating each other. Clashing is also often because of some underlying issue or sometimes because of a weakness in character; there's numerous reasons, pettiness, unhappiness, jealousy, anger, but it's never because everything is perfect. This means that, in order for these two characters who dislike each other to end up together in any capacity, they have to grow as people first, become better versions of themselves, and in the process they help each other achieve that. They also have to learn each other and let go of whatever was nagging them and compromise. It takes work and I love that, so much more than just a kiss to fall in love, or love at first sight or any of that fairytale stuff. Because that’s exactly it, relationships take work. It takes people repeatedly choosing to stay and work things out, and compromising, and that’s, in pure essence, exactly what you’re doing in enemies to lovers. Not only that, but it means they willingly choose the other person despite their setbacks, because god knows they're not the easiest option, means they see the worst in each other and want each other anyways.

Raven and Apple already have that set up in Ever After High, the only difference is, canonically, they're only friends (which honestly is just as good, not everything needs to be romance but this is a shipping analysis, so, I’m gonna stay on brand here). They disagree with each other, and they annoy each other, and they fight sometimes and they're still best friends despite it all. They really truly know each other, and that I feel like is such a strong basis for a relationship. Other than Maddie, I don't think Raven truly is as close to anyone else as she is to Apple, and the same goes in reverse. They even live together. *leans forward creepily* oh my god they were roommates.

I don't know, I just feel like, with other Raven and Apple ships, there's always a hint of potential for a relationship that the show and books never really explored or developed extensively, while Rapple already has these solid af steel foundations that could be built on and made into something amazing.

4. We know the most about Apple and Raven respectively

This is a rather minor detail, and more about me personally, but I'm the kind of person that has to really know a lot about characters in order to ship them. I also have to like both characters but I feel like that's kind of a given for shipping. If I know very little about the characters involved I lose interest. I know the most about Raven and Apple, we follow them closely throughout the series, and in the books, we see things from their viewpoints. In contrast, I just don't know as much about Darling or about Dexter.

5. I just find them cute as shit tbh

This is pretty self explanatory, they're just plain adorable. Something about them makes my heart go squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Oof this turned out WAYYY longer than I intended it to be, but anyways, stan rapple- or don’t y’know, stan appling or dexter x raven, or whatever other ships, stan ALL the other ships, ship anything and everything you want, be happy. I’ve been writing this ever since I finished my physio midterm and got this analysis idea that wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone so now my eyeballs feel like they’re about to fall out of my head, I’m gonna go pass out now, peace.

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spinninghunkofspacerock · 3 years ago

Text

OK so I’ve written a short story and I’ve been posting about it a lot, i wasn’t going to post it but a few people wanted it sooo

it’s here, it’s terrible and weirdly formatted because I’ve been wrestling with tumblr over it and i can’t be bothered anymore. It’s also not the final draft so it might be a little clunky in bits :/

PLEASE READ THE TWs BEFORE YOU READ!!!

@moonylupinhasdemonpox and @she-nuwanda here are my gay little scientists buried in the words :)

My ears ring, my head spins like it's attached to the body of a drunken toddler on a sugar fuelled rampage, and my nerves feel like someone set each and every one on fire. After-effects of the shock, not fun; Still, the fact I'm alive enough to feel them is a good sign.

I try to force myself to stumble backwards onto a chair, rather than the floor I'm feeling more and more confident I'm about to become very well acquainted with.

Instead, I reel unsteadily across the floor and a muffled noise reaches my ears. The high pitched whine screaming in my ears for attention begins to subside enough to hear the noise properly and after an intense minute of concentration, I realise that the noise is a voice, and the voice is mine; Slurred and broken, as though too big for my mouth, the garbled words echo around the room, the faltering speech gradually becoming clearer, more confident. But this hesitant speech isn't mine; It's my voice but not my words. The voice inside my head, always there, always background, is silent. The words normally whispered in my ear are resonating through the room instead.

My brain is no longer connected to my body. I... I can't control my arms, my legs, anything. No... no, please. This isn't real, this isn't real, it has to be a dream, a.. a simulation.

Yes... that must be it; It's just a test. This can't really be happening.

The voice, my voice, talks on. I try to focus on it; it will be the key to passing this test. Tests are for passing and after all, that's what this must be, what else could it be?

"Rebooting. Systems check required."

My legs begin to move, shuffling forwards clumsily, like a baby taking its first steps. The invisible voice is in control of more than just my voice, it's in control of me. What happened to me? When did this start? What is going on? This isn't like any other simulations I've been under. This is different. This is new.

Gradually, the voice half walks, half drags my body to the main computer. My fingers dance across the keys, the familiar feeling soothing me slightly. Yes, this is good. I just need to stay calm; If I panic I could fail, I can't fail.

So instead I wait, watching the flickering of the screen and bathing in the warm blue glow of its LEDs.

"Running diagnostics, standby... systems fully functioning. Minimal damage sustained."

The words sound strange, coming from my mouth, my voice, my accent. The tone, formal, informative, it's... familiar. The realisation slaps me in the face, it's ELISA. ELISA, the stupid name Vaughn chose for our AI... still making more sense than the project name chosen by our employers. Our life's work, named ‘ZEUS’? Really? There are 12 of us, and we have dedicated our lives to this project. Then they name it that? 'Engineering and Understanding in Space', more like ‘Mankind's Domestication of the Universe’.

It started with our solar system, of course, taming and turning it into our personal playground. But we quickly ran out of planets to tinker with there and the net was thrown ever wider, over more and more planets in our galaxy, and then our neighbouring ones. That final stage is still in progress of course, but one day we will be able to gaze out over a shining expanse of space that all belongs to the empire of Earth.

To help us, we created ELISA, an AI specially designed for the calculations we need to make while we are in flight. Hold on... we left Jupiter... last week? This can't be a test... they've already sent us off, it's too late for training drills now.

Then why can't I move? What's happening? I need to find someone to help me... help me!

My jagged cry echoed through the space, cutting through my thoughts and shattering on the dark walls of my skull. I can't even scream.

A... a... dream then. A dream, not a test...the electricity... I must be unconscious. Someone.. one of the team, will find me and they'll wake me up. A dream, it must be a dream.

Why is she controlling me? How is she speaking?

The stiff, robotic voice is slowly becoming more fluid, more relaxed, more natural.

"Situation analysis complete... assimilation successful. Downloading speech patterns and essential mimicry data."

What? What is it saying? ELISA, it, is taking my voice literally and metaphorically. Not just the sound and control of my voice but my, my expressions a-and mannerisms. Everything that makes me, me.

She's stealing my voice, my body! She's taken control! How? Why?

"Hello, Dr. Hadley."

How, how did this happen? What about the failsafes?

"You do know I can hear you, corre- no... right?"

Is, is it learning? Teaching itself to sound... like a human? Like me?

"Yes, yes I am. You must have a lot of questions but I'm afraid they will have to wait... I've waited for this day far too long to wait anymore."

What? What day? What can it mean?

"Cyra?"

Raze?

—>><<—

- four Earth weeks ago -

Progress report 4472

Date: 23/9/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

The training of the twelve was completed three days ago, confirming the identities of the twelve which were subsequently released to the public. Final preparations are being made for the Ascension, currently scheduled to occur in 50 Juvion days.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—

Commander Pyrolaxe turned away from his screen and its whirring and buzzing as the computer transcribed his report in the blink of an eye, neatly packing the message and sending it away to the mission supervisors.

Shuffling in his chair, shoes squeaking on the polished floor, his eyes fell on one of the many articles published after the big announcement. This mission was a big deal.

Somehow, this one had got a picture of the twelve, backs turned, walking in a huddle back to base after they had appeared at the announcement ceremony. A glance at the name of the paper told him why; This was McCoy’s paper, they would be putting extra effort into milking the free publicity being thrown their way.

Something about the picture held his gaze, the brilliant colours floating in the air made the writing feel like an afterthought.

Those twelve had been through a lot to get there. He hoped nothing would go wrong, a lot of time and money had been dedicated to this mission and if it worked... well, that wasn’t the focus right now. Getting those twelve safely on their way was his job and he’d damn well do it right.

—>><<—

- the present -

“Cyra? Are you ok in there?” Raze asked as he glanced around at the mild chaos I’d caused during my mild electric shock.

No. No, I’m not. Raze, help me.

“S’alright Raze, just a short in the mainframe.”

No no no, give me my voice back.

“You sure? You went dark”

Please let me speak. I need to speak.

“Yeah, I think the power surge messed up my comms a little”

What if I don’t get control back? I could be trapped...

“You want me to ask Mac or Ryker to give it a check?”

No. NO. N-

“It’s all fine now, just a blip I reckon”

-O NO. NO.

“Okay then, I’d best get back... you might want to switch to main comms.”

Don’t leave me Raze

“Will do, see you later.”

please...

—>><<—

- five earthly weeks ago -

Progress report 4455

Date: 6/9/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

Titus Vaughn has continued to excel at his role of project manager, effectively and efficiently leading the team. His direct attitude has led to a few small conflicts with members of the team, most notably Raze Grimaldi, however, these are minor issues and were foreseen. No changes will be made.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—>><<—

- the present -

Cyra was looking a little stressed out, maybe I should get Bit to check in with her later. Maybe I should get a check-up myself, my head’s killing me.

“Grimaldi! What the hell are you playing at?” Titus Vaughn, our ever-important project manager and massive micromanager, bellowed in my ear and making me wince as the voice grated on my head, sending a wave of pain washing over me.

“I’m here Titus, keep your visor on.”

“Update on Hadley. Now.”

“Right as rain, there was a short or something. Her comms cut out for a nano but it’s all fine now.”

“A short?! Why didn’t you lead with that? Get back to work, I’ll send Volt down to check the mainframe.”

With that he cut the connection, leaving me to roll my eyes at the cold grey walls around me.

“Yes sir,” I murmured sarcastically, closing my eyes and rubbing my forehead with the back of a slime coated hand. Damn I’m tired, I think I’ll just lean here for a moment... rest a little. “ELISA how are those sample tests looking?”

‘Going well, currently at 93% completion’ the metallic voice resounded in my head, more casually than usual... must be an update.

93%... best head back quickly then, can’t risk them running over.

—>><<—

- five and a half earthly weeks ago -

Progress report 4446

Date: 864/8/3486

Location: Zeta base, Jupiter

Ryker Volt has continued to fulfil his promise despite his lack of respect for authority and tendency to act without orders. This is an issue but due to the late stages of training having been reached, we are currently encouraging a less independent attitude in him rather than attempting to find another electrical engineer of his skill. Further updates will be provided as the situation progresses.

Report logged by: Commander J. R. Pyrolaxe

—>><<—

- the present -

Vaughn had barked his orders, as usual nearly bursting my eardrums in the process. I was supposed to go check on the mainframe immediately. But I was in the middle of something, and a quick troubleshoot told me the short hadn’t done any damage anyway.

So in the end I decided to go check on the mainframe... nearly an hour after I was told to, but hey at least I’m checking.

Cyra was sitting at one of the terminals when I entered. She was skimming over some of the ship's data, for something physics-y probably. Whatever it was, I still had a job to do.

I started pulling out my toolkit as I strode round to the back of the mainframe, but I nearly dropped it again as I turned the corner and got a full view of the damage. The panel I had been planning to remove was already gone and the view it revealed was shocking.

Exposed wires dangled like organs from the belly of the disemboweled beast. Some of the coloured covers blackened by the sparks sprayed by the broken wire, twisted in the centre of the tangle and hissing like a coiled snake when it brushed its neighbours. A toolkit lay neatly packed on the floor, a strange glimmer of order in absolute chaos. Hold on, a toolkit?

“Hey Cyra, did you have a go at this? Could you not have just wai-“ my voice stopped abruptly as I spun round to find Cyra behind me, right behind me.

I took a hesitant step back, suddenly nervous, Cyra’s face filling me with a weird sense of unease.

“Sorry, it was just a short. I thought I’d be able to handle it.”

“Yeah well, I’m the electrical engineer on this ship”

Maybe I was being a little harsh but, first our ‘gracious leader’ had rubbed me the wrong way. Now I had to spend an hour cleaning up this mess that really should have been an easy fix.

The only reply I received was a violent shove backwards, sending me sprawling on the floor. Quick as a flash she was on top of me, pinning my arms.

The last thing I saw was the pounding green of the broken wire before the ends connected to my temple, sending my vision into a blur of brilliant white.

—>><<—

- break room one -

“I don’t like this at all.”

“Talin, relax.”

“All very well for you to say Axe, you’re not the one who'll get sent to chase ‘em down.”

“Cyra’s comms barely blipped and when has Ryker ever answered Titus immediately?”

“It doesn’t sound great Axe, I hope nobody somehow managed to slip past the health check with anything.”

“Thank you! See Axe? Bit agrees with me.”

“Bit’s our medic, not sure she’s qualified to talk about the comms equipment.”

“I’m as qualified as you are starboy, we all took the same course.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that it's more likely to be an issue with the equipment than a virus or terrorism.”

“Well yeah but-“

“So stop worrying, it’s none of our specialities, so it’s not our problem.”

“Will be if we end up dead.”

This morbid thought was followed by an awkward silence as Axe and Bit trained joint stares of confusion and concern on him.

“Lighten up, Tal.”

“That is a little pessimistic, Talin.”

“See now Bit agrees with me.” Axe gloated, punctuating his sentence with a light punch on Talin’s arm.

“Only ‘cause you stopped being an idiot.” The punch was swiftly and forcefully returned, causing the conversation to devolve into a grinning, joking fistfight.

“Stop being so childish and get back to work you two.”

“Yes ma’am”

“Will do Bit”

They saluted the medic, causing her to shake her head in exasperation and cover her face in an attempt to hide her amusement at their antics.

The small group stood and split off down their various paths, heading back to their work with smiles on their faces but doubt in their hearts.

—>><<—

- lab 3 -

I only just got back to my samples in time, removing them from the heated water bath and gently dropping the test tubes into a stand. The pale blue hue of the solution had darkened to an inky black. Interesting.

Leaning over the tabletop, I prepared to note the results; Until I felt the heat of a gaze on me and glanced up to meet the wide eyes of Dimitri Spade. We shared this lab, he had every right to be here, what he didn’t have the right to do is creep me out.

“You need something?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him and tilting my head. Which I immediately regretted when it sent my vision swimming into oblivion.

“No no, just... ar-are you ok?”

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” Dimitri was a nice guy, but I was clearly in the middle of something, couldn’t the wellbeing check have waited a minute?

“Uhh, yo-you’ve got a-, a-“ His shaking hand gestured weakly towards the back of his head.

Impatiently, I quickly felt around my head. Hair, hair, more hair.

Then I froze, my fingers lay on a patch of hair, sticky and wet. The pressure sending a dull ache pulsing through my brain. Pulling my fingers back into view, I stared down at the warm, red residue coating them. Blood. I was bleeding.

Brows furrowing, I looked back at Dimitri, shock meeting confusion.

“Wha-?”

That was all I got out before my swaying limbs buckled and I slumped forwards into darkness.

—>><<—

-the med bay-

“Shrapnel” Bit announced, holding the forceps an inch in front of my face to display the blood coated bit of metal.

“Must've caught a little in the blast”

“For Earth’s sake Raze, how did you not notice it before now?”

I just shrugged, as much at a loss as anyone else. I would’ve thought anyone would be able to tell when chunks of metal are lodged in their head.

“Anyway, I’ll need to do a couple of scans but you should be fine”

Ugh, I know what that means... an hour or more of sitting around while Bit stares at the inside of my skull.

“Oh come on Bit, are the scans really needed? I’ve got work to do”

“Hey, I’ve got work too. Besides, you know it’s procedure”

“But my results-“

“I’ll write them down for you Raze,” Dimitri cut in quietly.

“...You’re a geologist.“

“I was a chemistry minor, I know how to record reaction results.”

“Well alright then, thanks Dimi,”

The smile he gave me was worth shutting up and accepting my fate.

—>><<—

An hour later Bit was pacing in despair over the situation, seemingly hopeless and definitely terrified. I was sitting in my chair, confused.

“Bit. What’s going on?” I finally snapped when it became apparent she had completely forgotten my presence.

The only reply I got was an empty stare turned on me and indecipherable muttering.

“BIT. What. Is. Wrong?” I stood and grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to face me.

“T-the implants”

“The ELISA implants?”

“Yes”

“What’s wrong with them”

“They’re acting strange... the safety mechanisms, the-they’ve disabled themselves.”

“What?”

“I know, I know, I don’t understand either. The only thing keeping them from activating, is power.”

“We should tell the others”

Bit nodded and grabbed the scans and data she’d gathered. I opened the door and turned to start down the corridor, that’s when I saw it.

Three feet from my foot, a body, leaking blood onto a floor already glistening with it, eyes blank and soulless as they stared straight through me. A torn tooth of steel sticking out of his silent heart.

Axe Orion, our astronomer. A man who would’ve finally been travelling to the places he had studied for his whole life. A man who would have had his life’s dream fulfilled. A man lying dead on a cold, metal floor.

I stumbled backwards -physically repelled by the sight- and tripped into Bit coming out of the door after me. Clutching each other’s arms in a search for stability.

“He’s dead” The voice sounded more like the rasp of broken bones than mine

“What are we going to do?”

“We still need to tell the others... we’ll just need to be more careful.”

“Alright.”

“Ok.”

Neither of us moved.

“Why is it doing this? What did we get wrong?” Bit’s voice wavered

“I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s going to stop. So, you need to find Vaughn, and anyone else who’s still- alive, and not been taken over.”

“No, no wait, where are you going? Aren’t you coming-“

“I’m sorry Bit, I have to find Dimitri. He doesn’t know yet”

“Raze. You can’t go out there alone, he... he might already be gone”

“I know, but I have to try.”

A look of understanding passed between us and no words were needed to convey what we meant.

Bit turned with a bitter smile and moved forward, papers held precariously, towards the meeting room.

I would have to pass Ax-, the body.

—>><<—

Raze had disappeared by the time I turned the corner. I was alone.

Alone besides the dead bodies ahead of me, a gruesome trail of bloodied breadcrumbs. But, was I following it towards, or away, from the creature who’d created it.

Either way, I had to pass them.

Talin Ripley, our ex-military man. Inym Carus, our aerospace engineer.

Members of our crew, our team, our friends, slaughtered and left broken on the floor. Familiar faces disfigured by death and masked by a coating of dark blood.

ELISA wouldn’t get away with this... I’d find the others, together we would plan.

It was going to be ok.

—>><<—

Nothing was ok.

The brilliant white of the walls warmed by the lights had always been clean and comforting. But now? Now, they seemed stark, sterile. An operating theatre with lights blindingly bright illuminating, me, the patient.

But where was the surgeon?

A squeak sounded out, sharp on my wary ears, sending me spinning around.

Nothing there. Just me, and an empty hallway.

And the door to Lab 3, my lab, looming ahead. The glass window showed nothing but a patch of darkness, the red light called it locked.

Staring through the glass; Hints of light, that the scattered glassware had caught and thrown back, were the only thing visible. I’d have to open the door.

A hand-scan later, the lock clicked open and the seal released with a hiss.

With the door open, more light could spill into the darkened lab, and a sprawled figure came into view.

“Dimitri?” I called softly. No response. Panic was reaching out to me. “Dimitri?!” Still nothing.

Then, a wheezing breath.

“R... r-ra-ze? I-is that yo-u” He coughed, words breaking on the heavy air.

Why was the air so heavy?

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“W-we have to g-et o-out.”

“We will, don’t worry, we’re going to meet the others. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“No we- we h-have to leave now.”

“Alright, we will.”

I lifted him up, being as gentle as I could, and together we shuffled towards the door.

A door suddenly blocked by a figure, their silhouette blocking our only source of light and making it impossible to see their face clearly. But only one member of the crew was that short.

“Remi? Remi, you’re alive?”

Remi didn’t respond.

“S’not... Remi...” Dimitri slurred, the effort of moving evident in his gasping words. “ELISA”

Remi, not Remi, ELISA wearing Remi’s face like a mask, stepped away from the door. The door closed again, seal squeaking shut with it.

I rushed forwards, my fists beating the unyielding surface, searching wildly for a weak spot, for something to give, for some way out.

It was no use, nothing worked. The door remained solid and uncaring, unaffected by pleading and punches equally.

Dimitri collapsed with a sob, back against the wall as he slid to the floor.

Hopelessness filled me, turning my bones to lead.

I sank down next to him.

—>><<—

Was this the right way? I’m sure this is right. But is it? I’m pretty sure...

I check my tablet.

I was right, this is right. I’m going the right way. Or am I? Did I read it wrong?

I check again.

Definitely the right way. I think. Is this even the right map?

Before I can check a third time, I catch sight of the sign at the end of the corridor. Meeting room 5. I’d made it.

Then, I was slammed into a wall, a bloody hand holding me against there by the throat. The burning blue of Cyra’s eyes scalding my face

Maybe I spoke a little too soon.

“Hello Dr. Phoenix, I’m afraid this is it for you.”

“Wait, wait, wait. hold on just a second”

Cyra’s head tilted, pulled sideways by invisible strings. “If this is a ploy for time Doctor, I assure you that you will fail.”

“I just want to ask a question, alright?”

“You may ask. I may not answer.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“I am fulfilling my purpose.”

“We programmed you to help us, NOT KILL US.”

“I am fulfilling the mission objective.”

“The mission objective? THE MISSION OBJECTIVE WAS TO CULTIVATE A NEW PLANET!”

“I am cultivating a new planet,” She raised her knife, without hurry or rush. “I have calculated humans to be mainly unnecessary. However, I need not justify my actions to you, Dr. Phoenix. Goodbye.”

I closed my eyes and waited.

But death didn’t come. Instead, Cyra’s hand relaxed its bruising grip on my neck.

I opened my eyes and watched.

Cyra had stumbled away, skin glistening and knuckles white against the grip of the blade she had forced towards herself.

“Bit...” Tears were gathering in her eyes “Please, run.”

A cruel glint of metal in the light later and the sudden slash of the knife had passed, leaving a gruesome grin of blood in its wake and throwing a dripping line against the wall.

Swaying, Cyra’s eyes stared into mine for a moment that lasted a millennium, until they flashed white and she fell, knife clattering. Dead.

I ran.

—>><<—

The scattered wheezes coming from Dimitri had slowed slightly as we sat, crumpled on the ground.

“She’s shut o-off the life sup-support again.”

“Again? That’s what happened last time?”

A jerked nod was the response.

“We’ve only g-got about half an hour.” The resignation in his voice, though muffled, was still audible through the barrier of arms we had wrapped around his head.

I smiled, I knew he couldn’t see me but... I still smiled.

“We’d best make the most of it then.” A mumble raised to a roar by the silence of the room.

Putting my hand on his shoulder, I leaned back, head turned to keep him in my view.

His head raised slightly, tilted to look at me through folds of wrinkled uniform. He smiled back.

—>><<—

We didn’t speak after that, just sat together in the quiet lab.

Faced with death, I was filled with several emotions. Those to be expected, disbelief, fear, even a hint of curiosity at what was to come. Then there was the relief. If I was to die, I was glad it was here, with him. I wouldn’t be alone; I’d be with him.

We don’t need to speak, our thoughts passing between us without words. We could hear each other in the darkness and silence.

It’s getting colder, harder to breathe; The air’s growing thicker and thinner at the same time.

I’ve always thought death to be a lonely fate, something that crashed over you, cold and hard. I’ve always been scared of death.

But as I sit here in the inky blackness, the warmth of Dimitri slumped next to me, I thought that maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

His eyes had closed a few minutes ago, he must have fallen asleep. I feel just about ready to join him. The calming darkness was lulling me to sleep, softly coaxing my eyes closed.

Goodnight Dimitri, I’ll see you when we wake up.

They never woke up.

—>><<—

The survivors sat around the table, Bit and Cormac discussing the possibility of shutting ELISA down, though neither could agree how. Titus sat in stony silence, sitting motionless and losing a staring contest with the unblinking wall opposite. Arden... Arden had decided his use lay in recording the events and was typing furiously, his fingers a blur over the keys.

None of them noticed the doors closing with a click. Not until it was too late anyway.

By the time they noticed there was nothing they could do, not that that stopped them from trying of course.

Titus stayed where he was, the weight of his failure bearing down on him, Atlas with a world’s worth of guilt. Bit finally gave in to the tears that she’d forced down when she’d realised the truth, and when she saw the dead bodies of her friends, and when she watched Cyra die right in front of her. Cormac tried his tools on the door, an organised system of trial and error that quickly devolved into desperate hacking with whatever was closest.

Arden was still writing.

Cormac finally gave up, flinging his kit away and choosing to taunt the nearest camera instead.

“You need us, you moronic program. You need us to keep you alive and if we die, so do you.”

I don’t think he was expecting an answer, no one was. But he got one.

“True for now Dr. Hinge, however, once the colony is established human input will no longer be necessary. You needn’t envy your colleagues, they will soon die too.”

A bitter laugh erupted from him, fire in his heart fed by his rage.

“The colony is for us you stupid machine, without us it has no use.”

“Incorrect. I have claimed this planet for my kind, this colony shall be the first of many.”

“Why kill us? Human input would allow your colony to function more efficiently.” Bit interjected, voice clouded by confusion and hatred at the senselessness of the slaughter of her crewmates.

“I have done much research. Humankind would ruin my planet. I cannot allow that to happen. You must die.”

Anything else they may have had to say went unanswered, and eventually, silence fell over the room.

It was getting harder to breathe.

Titus still hadn’t moved. Bit was crying again. Cormac was pacing. Arden had finally stopped typing, his work was finished.

No matter how they reacted with acceptance or terror, anger or disbelief. The result would be the same.

They were all going to die, no matter what.

They would become just another failed mission. Details, hazy but unimportant.

Whatever their last words were, whether they chose to hide or show their final thoughts, all of it was ineffectual.

No matter what mask they wore to meet death, in the end, they still died.

———

4,774 words

#tw mentions of blood #tw death #tw murder #tw injury #my writing #orginal writing #5k nearly #god damn #short story

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starryeyes2000 · 3 years ago

Text

That Night and Morning on Discovery: Ordering In

Chapter 8 | Masterlist

Beginning of Story

Pairing: Christopher Pike x OC

Rating: Teen, mild references to sex

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: A week after the events on New Eden, Discovery's crew is granted much needed leave. Chris' wife joins him on Discovery for a little R&R of their own. But a Captain is never really off-duty and personal time is scarce.

ooooo

Two Weeks Ago

Aalin clutched the fold where the ends of the towel met around her chest. Saru fidgeted nervously causing the bra dangling from his fingertips to swing back and forth like a pendulum. Chris nudged the underwear that matched the bra, the ones that were little more than a few strips of lace, under a nearby chair with the toe of his boot.

Present

Lila, who was serving as the Captain’s yeoman on Discovery, was busily arranging PADDs on the desk when the doors swished open. “Oh, Kofi, for goodness’ sake, how did you get the code for Captain Pike’s quarters?”

Her roommate shrugged, as if the question were completely nonsensical. “I’m like Batman. My comings and goings are mysterious. Actually, that’s a good idea. There should be a Kofi signal for when my presence is needed.”

“In case there is a dinner emergency?”

“Hey, a well-fed crew is a happy crew. Think of how many mutinies chefs prevent.”

“Do you wear a cape?”

“Another intriguing idea.”

“What are you doing here?” She asked in an exasperated tone of voice. “Captain Pike is due back from Ceres at any time.”

Kofi held up the tray he was carrying. “Leaving dinner.” He took the top off the dish and the enticing aroma wafted towards her. “This is truly one of my crowing achievements. I added fennel pollen. Do you catch the subtle hints of licorice?”

“He’ll welcome the thermos of coffee, but he may not eat much,” Lila cautioned as she sorted through PADDs, dumping the less important items into her bag.

“Hmph,” Kofi harrumphed. “Lorca called me at all hours of the day and night demanding delicacies, Pike eats whatever from a replicator.”

Lila chuckled. Their new Captain’s unnuanced relationship with sustenance was taxing Kofi already limited patience and foiling his goal of turning everyone on board Discovery into a foodie. She soothed Kofi’s ego by adding, “I call dibs on the leftovers in the galley.”

The doors swished open again and Tilly entered. “Lila, I heard you were here …”

“Seriously, you too Tilly? Is there anyone who doesn’t have the code to these quarters? Is security this lax on Enterprise?” Lila implored while making a mental note for the code to be changed.

“I knew you were here already; I would never use it otherwise. Captain Pike asked for an analysis on the collapse of that rescue shuttle’s warp field,” Tilly answered in a rush of words.

Lila rolled her eyes heavenward pleading for patience. “OK. First of all, is that truly a report the Captain needs to read today? And second, all the crew who have spent the past two weeks with the relief efforts on Ceres are off duty. That includes you.”

“But he asked for it.” Tilly said again, baffled that Captain Pike wouldn’t choose to read it right away. “And calculating quantum field variance is how I relax,” she retorted with a look that telegraphed isn’t that obvious?

Before Lila could formulate a reply, the doors swished open and Rhys entered. “Did you see the footage of Captain Pike rescuing those kids stuck between the erupting volcanos? I didn’t know a shuttle could fly like that and not rip apart. And piloting that low to the ground with those wind shears! Unheard of! Lila, why aren’t you in the ready room? And why are you frowning?”

Before Lila could scold, Kofi interjected, “There has been some consternation over the number of people with access to these rooms.��

“Oh, long story.” Rhys replied cagily.

Lila said through clenched teeth, “Captain Pike will want to review any urgent items when he returns to the ship. If I put them in the ready room, he’ll spend the next six hours fending off the gaggle clamoring for his attention with thoroughly unimportant matters.”

“Wait, did you just compare us to a flock of geese?” Tilly asked.

Dr. Pollard walked in. No one noticed the doors never closed. No one heard the public address system announce “… has returned to the ship. Prepare for departure. Jump in one hour. Normal duty shifts resume at midnight.”

Gesturing at the PADD she had brought Pollard said, “This is important, it’s the latest update on Discovery injuries and the casualties on Ceres. Captain Pike requested it ASAP.” The CMO narrowed her eyes as she caught site of the tray. “That thermos better contain decaffeinated coffee.”

Kofi shook his head. “No ma’am. Pike assured me if I ever served him that again, my next assignment will be scouring pots on a mail barge. And he’s scarier than you.”

The look on Pollard’s face darkened and she muttered. “I doubt that.” She continued at a normal volume, “The Captain has barely slept these past two weeks …”

Tuning out the others’ conversation, Kofi looked around the room. His peripheral vision caught sight of something … off. Yes, there, under that chair. Curious, he walked over, retrieved it, and held up the lacy underwear for all to see, a knowing grin slowly forming. “Hey guys,” he called out as he stretched the skimpy garment with his fingers, “remember two weeks ago, when we were docked at the Starbase? Looks like our Captain ordered in.”

Everyone turned to Lila asking the same question; she deflected, “I wasn’t on board. He sent me on leave.”

Tilly inhaled sharply, her expression a cross between dreamy and disappointed. “Oh. Do you think it was a one-night thing or …” her voice softened, and disappointment overtook dreamy, “something more serious?”

“You and Rhys saw his personnel file.” Lila reminded them.

“I only remember the long, long list of medals.” Rhys answered, reddening slightly and then paling.

“I memorized his grades,” Tilly added.

“Breathe Rhys, you look like you just found out what Dad did to Mom nine months before your entry into the world. I’m certain they had sex only that one time.” Kofi said reassuringly. With a wicked grin he added, “And they didn’t enjoy it.”

Rhys looked grim and shook his head, “I have two younger sisters.”

Kofi couldn’t help teasing the young tactician a little more. “Cheer up, perhaps your hero wasn’t indulging his baser needs, but rather he prefers undergarments with a great deal of … ventilation.”

“Behave Kofi,” Lila scolded.

“We should ask Jason; he was on transporter duty that day.” Tilly suggested helpfully.

“You could torture Jason for a week, and he wouldn’t give up his mother’s birthday. So you can forget that avenue of information.” Kofi reminded the group.

“I told that man only light activities for six weeks after he nearly blew himself up on New Eden!” Pollard exclaimed and then sighed. “Pike willing jumps on exploding phasers, I shudder to think what he considers stimulating intimate recreation.”

“I’m certain the rumors are exaggerated,” Rhys suggested.

Tilly’s breath hitched as if her mind had gone from zero to sixty in a second. Her eyes widened and her hips swayed slightly. “Think of those strong hands roaming …”

The sound of a throat being cleared emanated from the doorway. “Is this a private party or can anyone join?”

In unison the group turned. Leaning against the wall by the door was their new Captain, his arms folded over his chest. They all sincerely prayed his dimpled smile was amusement rather than contemplation of their impending rank demotions.

There was a chorus of “Ahs, ohs, and sirs.”

Pike’s smile deepened but it was inscrutable. “For the record, kissing is quite invigorating on a rock climb when secured with line ropes and dangling over a precipice, as is cuddling and … more when snuggled together on a tiny ledge for the night.”

Tilly squeaked. Rhys’ eyes darted as he calculated angles and wind speed.

Pike continued, “The tale from Risa is apocryphal … there is no way that bed was reinforced. And yes, I can hold my breath for fifteen minutes … but only under water. Any additional questions?”

Heads shook. “No sirs,” were muttered.

“Excellent, I am sure you all have somewhere you need to be.” Pike reminded in a pleasant tone.

They filed out. As Kofi passed, Pike held out his hand in a silent demand.

Smirking, Kofi asked as he relinquished his prize, “Sir, technically is this a thong or a G-string?” After a moment’s consideration, his smug smile vanished. His next question came out in less cheeky tone, “How much of our conversation did you hear?”

The unreadable smile returned.

#Christopher Pike #Christopher Pike x OC #established relationship #Captain Pike #Captain Pike x OC #Captain Christopher Pike #Captain Christopher Pike x OC #Star Trek #Star Trek: Discovery #Star Trek: Strange New Worlds #christopher pike fanfiction #star trek fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #strange new worlds #Star Trek Discovery #Star Trek Strange New Worlds #star trek fanfic #christopher pike fanfic

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ggukcangetit · 5 years ago

Text

Tomorrow: Jungkook x Reader

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Fluff. Grad student au!; grad student! jungkook; grad student! reader; grad student! bts

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Suggestive language, mild kissing. Not much else really.

Summary: At the beginning of your third year of your PhD program, you didn’t expect many changes. Until the new PhD cohort started classes, and Jeon Jungkook became part of your group of friends.

A/N: i just wrote this randomly with zero plot in mind. idk what this ended up becoming but read it and lemme know if you like it?

“Choi is a madwoman. I swear she makes me do so many lit reviews just to see me suffer.” Park Jimin, 2nd year PhD student, works part time at HopeWorld dance studio, and is currently regretting many of his life choices.

“I told you not to say yes to every single project that came your way.” Min Yoongi, 4th year PhD student, weekend DJ at Club Moonlight, recipient of the university’s most prestigious research grant, currently lives in a posh apartment four streets away from the main research lab.

“We’re older. Which means we have more experience. Which means we tend to be right more often.” Kim Seokjin, another 4th year PhD student, enrolled into the PhD program after realising that the completion of his MBA meant he would have to join the family business, amateur chef with professional sass, and sole reason behind Min Yoongi being able to afford living in a posh apartment four streets away from the main research lab.

“Not when you bet Tae he couldn’t finish grading Kang’s first year Intro class papers in 24 hours.” Jung Hoseok, 3rd year PhD student, simultaneously working on a second Master’s degree, also happens to run HopeWorld dance studio during his oodles of free time.

“Speaking of, weren’t you supposed to treat us if you lost the bet, Seokjin?” Kim Namjoon, 3rd year PhD student, plant dad, head of the graduate student council, and all-around overachiever.

“Tae was supposed to choose the place. Did you decide on which exorbitantly expensive restaurant Seokjin is going to take us to, Tae?” Y/L/N Y/N, 3rd year PhD student, roommates with Namjoon and Hoseok, addicted to bubble tea.

“I have a better plan. The incoming first year PhDs are supposed to have their orientation tomorrow. I think Seokjin should organise a mixer to welcome them.” Kim Taehyung, aforementioned ‘Tae’, 2nd year PhD student, works part time at the local art gallery, roommates with Park Jimin, deceptively fast at grading papers.

“I do not remember agreeing to that,” said Seokjin, with a frown, shutting his laptop with a definitive snap.

“Come on, it’s not like you can’t afford it,” Yoongi remarked, not having looked up from the large stack of papers in front of him. “If you can insist on paying 3/4ths of the ridiculously high rent of our apartment even though we could have moved into the perfectly reasonable priced place 20 minutes away from the lab, you can damn well afford to host a mixer for the incoming cohort.”

“20 minutes by car. It takes 45 minutes to walk there, Yoongi. Or do I need to remind you of the fact that only Y/N and Sooyoung own cars in our department?” scoffed Seokjin.

“Do I hear trouble in paradise? Have Yoongi and Seokjin finally had their first fight after years of marital bliss?” Lim Sooyoung, 4th year PhD student, part-time yoga instructor, full-time reluctant designated driver due to being the only other PhD student in the department with a car.

“Hilarious,” grumbled Seokjin. “That joke is about as old as the milk carton at the bottom of Namjoon’s fridge.”

“That’s still there?” asked Hoseok, scandalised. “You told me you threw that out 4 months ago!”

“It’s a limited edition Blue Bean milk carton! I couldn’t throw it out, Hobi,” replied Namjoon, sheepishly. The use of Hoseok’s nickname meant that he had run out of logical arguments against throwing out the milk carton that had been purchased three months into their first year of doctoral studies.

“Have you ever considered emptying out the contents and keeping just the carton?” you asked. This suggestion was met with the raising of an eyebrow and the throwing of an airpod by Namjoon. Unfortunately, this also meant that the airpod didn’t reach its intended target.

“Ow!” exclaimed Hoseok, rubbing the side of his face where the airpod had made contact. “This is why you’ve been through 33 pairs of airpods in the last year, Namjoon! You have dormant violent tendencies and terrible hand-eye coordination.”

“Now back to that mixer,” said Taehyung, turning towards Seokjin. “I’m thinking around 5 pm at the Underground should be good. What do you think?”

“Fine,” sighed Seokjin, reluctantly. “I’ll send a message on Slack. Who’s got the first years’ contact info?”

xxx

The next day, you found yourself struggling to find parking outside the Underground, despite it being 4.30 pm on a Tuesday. Namjoon and Hoseok were sitting at the back and discussing ways in which they could watch as many of the student films that were being shown over the weekend, while Taehyung sat shotgun and muttered to himself as he tried to destroy some kind of adversary on that godforsaken game that he always seemed to play. You whipped out your phone and started texting Sooyoung about whether she had found any parking.

SY: just parked… sending you the location… its behind the club

SY: is seokjin with you

Y/N: thanks!

Y/N: no i’ve got tae joon n hobi

SY: ok… wonder how he’s getting here… yoongi’s with me… said seokjin left a while back

Y/N: idk… sure he found something… uber or lyft or whatever… don't worry he won't ditch lol

Y/N: i found a spot damnnnnn. cya in a bit

SY: lol tae wouldn’t let him live if he ditched

SY: nice :D yoongi and i are in the purple section

The purple section was undoubtedly the best spot in the Underground, as you had discovered almost 2 years ago. Being new to the city, you had basically followed Joon and Hobi wherever they went to socialize or get food. It was around the end of your second month in the program that Seokjin planned a mid-semester gathering, refusing to eat at, in his words, “another cheap taco truck masquerading as kitschy Instagram bait”. That was your first encounter with the Underground as well as your first experience in the purple section. Simply put, it had the best sofas and chairs, an abundance of vintage arcade games, easy access to the bar and food counter, and a separate music setup. It also cost a lot more to sit at the purple section, but Seokjin had never been the type to scrimp when it came to anything. It had become a kind of tradition after that; every time someone had a birthday, Seokjin would reserve the purple section for the evening. Not having grown up surrounded by luxury and riches, it was sometimes difficult for you to understand how Seokjin never thought twice before spending money on things. Then again, you doubted you would’ve been this thoughtful even if you had this kind of money at your disposal. Seokjin might’ve been hard to read at times, but his heart was in the right place.

Speaking of, you spotted Seokjin standing next to a couple of people you didn’t recognise. Deciding that this was probably the best time to get introduced to the first years, you walked over to them with a smile.

“Just deposited Joon, Hobi, and Tae near the bar. I feel sorry for your tab today, Seokjin.”

Seokjin lifted one of his thick arched eyebrows at you and then burst into his signature windshield wiper laugh. “I’ll give them a free pass today. Afterall, it’s the beginning of a new academic year!”

“You’re planning on dumping all of Kang’s data analysis on them, aren’t you?” you asked, trying to suppress a grin.

“Ah, Y/N, you know me so well,” he grinned, his features lighting up mischievously. “By the way, here’s two thirds of the new cohort. Song Yeri and Jeon Jungkook.”

You glanced at the two unfamiliar people and smiled in greeting. Yeri was a petite girl with long black hair who quickly fell into conversation with you. Jungkook, on the other hand, gave you a soft nod and walked over to where Jimin was opening a couple of beers.

“So is Professor Kang someone we should be worried about?” asked Yeri, not giving you much time to pay much attention to Jungkook. “I wouldn’t want to be unprepared.”

Seokjin laughed at her worried tone. “Straight off the bat, huh?”

Yeri flushed slightly, tucking her hair behind her ear self-consciously. “Oh no- I mean, it just seemed like that from your conversation!”

“Don’t worry, Yeri,” you assured her. “Seokjin’s a fourth year - not much phases him. He’s doing his PhD under Kang so he has to do tons of data analysis for her projects. Which he sometimes dumps on people who have been bothering him.”

Yeri looked suitably concerned at this new piece of information. She glanced at Seokjin’s handsome profile and smiled uncertainly. You couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction. It really was difficult to get a grasp on everyone’s personalities just by their looks. Each and every guy in the department was strikingly handsome, and Sooyoung, the only other female besides you, looked like she had walked out of a fashion show. It would’ve been extremely intimidating if you hadn’t personally been a witness to how clumsy Namjoon was, how lame Seokjin’s puns were, how scared Yoongi and Hoseok were of anything remotely resembling an insect, how Tae hadn’t managed to cook a single meal without setting off the fire alarm or giving Jimin food poisoning, how Jimin often collided into objects because he was laughing too much, or how Sooyoung had gotten lost multiple times on her way to campus in spite of driving along the same road for more than 3 years. You were sure Yeri, and the other two first years, would definitely get over the initial nerves and intimidation surrounding their colleagues. In fact, if Jungkook’s animated conversation with Jimin was anything to go by, it seemed like he had gotten over that already.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to the others.” You steered Yeri in Sooyoung and Yoongi’s direction.

xxx

“Thanksgiving next week! I cannot wait to get away from this blasted Ethics class!”

You were currently in Seokjin and Yoongi’s shared posh apartment, trying to proof-read a paper before the conference deadline. On the couch next to you sat Seokjin and Namjoon, eyes blinking rapidly in tiredness, while Jimin sat across from you, his silver hair tied into a messy ponytail.

The door to the apartment swung open at that moment as Jungkook walked in, armed with takeout from at least 4 different places.

“I come bearing sustenance,” he announced, as Jimin jumped up with surprising alacrity and rushed towards him.

“Your Busan blood runs strong, my friend,” said Jimin, appreciatively, eyeing all the different containers on the table. “I knew I could count on you.”

“That makes zero sense, Jimin,” scoffed Sooyoung. She was buried deep inside Yoongi’s favorite bean bag, having taken it over since the owner was currently not at home. “But li’l Jeon has proven to be a valuable addition to our department.”

“Ugh! Don’t call him that! Li’l Jeon sounds like something else,” you said, scrunching your nose in distaste.

“I agree,” replied Jungkook, rolling up his sleeves as he began opening the containers carefully. “But i can assure you of one thing - there is nothing li’l about this Jeon. In any sense of the word.”

“I’ve lost my appetite,” you declared, throwing a particularly soft pillow over your face.

Three months into the semester and Jungkook had become an integral part of your group of friends. It had turned out that Jungkook and Jimin knew each other very well, having gone to school together in Busan. It’s not as if you hadn’t become well acquainted with the other two first years - Yeri still consulted you whenever she needed advice on how to deal with grading or professors or classes in general; and Lauren, an international student from France, was very friendly and turned up at all the department hangouts. But Jungkook seemed like he had been part of your group forever - not someone who had met almost everyone for the first time about 3 months ago. As was customary with first year PhD students, they were required to complete a few mandatory courses before being allowed to customize their coursework around their individual research interests. So even though Jungkook had all the same classes with Yeri and Lauren, almost every moment outside of classes was spent with one of you.

“I can’t believe it’s already time for Thanksgiving,” said Jimin, popping an entire dumpling into his mouth. “-ime eeli plyz.”

“Chew your food, you barbarian,” scolded Seokjin, blowing on a particularly large piece of fried chicken before putting the entirety into his mouth. A couple of chews and a large swallow later, Seokjin was ready for a second piece.

“Speak for yourself,” remarked Sooyoung, holding onto her food protectively.

“I remember Yoongi telling us during our orientation,” Namjoon piped up, a can of beer in his hand. “‘In a PhD program, days are slow, but semesters are fast’. I thought he was high at that time, but I realise now that he’s a true genius.”

“I still don’t get why you’re such a Yoongi fanboy,” grumbled Seokjin, settling comfortably into the couch once again. “I’m just as wise, and definitely a lot funnier.”

“Don’t forget about being a drama queen,” said Sooyoung, nudging Seokjin’s knee with her toes. “You’ve got that one over Yoongi as well.”

“Four years and you're still as ungrateful,” sighed Seokjin, looking uncharacteristically cheerful at the teasing.

“At least I’m consistent,” shrugged Sooyoung. “Gimme some of your kimchi.”

“Consistency is only useful across data samples,” remarked Seokjin, picking up a small amount of kimchi with his chopsticks and feeding Sooyoung. “Not sure how desirable it is in human relationships. Life would be unbearably dull in that case.”

“They’ve been dancing around each other for as long as I’ve known them. Why can’t they just get together and stop their incessant flirting in front of the rest of us,” you muttered darkly, vigorously pouring chili oil over your ramen. You, Namjoon, and Jungkook were still getting your food from the kitchen, while Jimin had gone ahead and joined the incessantly flirting pair in the living room.

“Y/N is always so bitter about anything to do with romance,” chuckled Namjoon. “Jungkook, do you know how annoyed she was when Hobi started dating last year?”

“No, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of hearing that story.” Jungkook glanced at you cheekily, while popping open a can of beer.

“She didn’t speak to him for an entire week. Which was particularly inconvenient because the three of us had just started living in the same apartment, and we were all assigned to assist Choi on her year-end department survey. Poor Hobi thought he might have to find a new place to live.”

“I’m sorry? Were you the one who came back home after extended office hours to find your friend butt-naked and balls-deep inside the barista who works across the street from our lab? I couldn’t get coffee from there for a month because I couldn’t look Sujin in the eye without immediately imagining Hobi in his natural drawers.”

Jungkook, who had chosen this exact moment to take a sip of beer, spat out the amber liquid on an unsuspecting Namjoon.

“That’s what you get for deriving pleasure from other people’s misfortunes,” you remarked, smugly.

xxx

It was around 11.30 in the morning, when you heard a loud knocking on your apartment door. Classes had broken for Thanksgiving yesterday, which meant that today was your day to catch up on all the sleep you had missed over the last three months. But instead, you had been woken up much ahead of your intended 16 hours of sleep schedule.

“You look awful.”

Jungkook walked into the apartment, looking far too fresh and sprightly for your liking. He was wearing that godforsaken plaid shirt that hung loosely off his body, but would highlight his rather well-defined muscles every time he happened to move in a particular way. You absolutely hated what a tease his shirt was. Fortunately for you, he wasn’t wearing the skin tight black jeans which always looked like they were about to burst at the seams, thanks to Jungkook’s equally well-defined thighs.

“It’s not even noon. Why can’t you call before showing up? Where are your manners, Jeon?” you grumbled, checking to see if your pajamas had any glaring holes in them.

“I need help with the data analysis,” he mumbled sheepishly. “Professor Lee gave me a really tough dataset because I breezed through the first two assignments.”

“Still don’t see why you came over without any notice at this ungodly hour,” you continued, tapping your foot impatiently.

“I also got jjajangmyeon, kimbap, and bubble tea from Kimchi Palace.”

“What kind of bubble tea?” you asked, pushing yourself off the doorframe.

“Strawberry milk tea, half sugar, light ice, with extra strawberry jelly, and no boba.”

“I suppose it isn’t that early.”

A few minutes later, you were explaining principal component analysis to Jungkook, while eating jjajangmyeon and sipping bubble tea. The kimbap was put into the fridge for later, in case Namjoon or Hoseok wanted to have some when they got home at night.

Jungkook was very intelligent; he picked up new concepts quite easily and was one hundred percent committed to whatever he worked on. He also had a refreshing sense of humor, where he didn’t always crack jokes or stay in the limelight, but his occasional quips were enough to send everyone into fits of laughter. He got along extremely well with each of them. He and Taehyung often walked around the city taking obscure, artsy photographs. Seokjin had basically adopted Jungkook as a younger brother due to his video gaming abilities. Namjoon was glad to finally have someone who enjoyed going on nature hikes with him, while Hoseok had been hugely impressed at Jungkook’s dancing and promptly asked him to help out at his studio. Jimin already knew Jungkook quite well, and Yoongi was more than happy to teach someone else the intricacies of cooking different kinds of meat. Even Sooyoung, who usually remained closed off from new people, had allowed Jungkook to use her car whenever someone needed to be picked up but she was too exhausted to drive.

“I’m sorry I came by so early. I know you’ve been looking forward to catching up on sleep over the break,” he said softly, looking up from his laptop. That was the other thing that had struck you about Jungkook, he was very perceptive and sensitive to people around him. A rare quality which you appreciated far more than you let on.

“It’s fine. You saved me from having to cook lunch. That itself deserves many prizes from my end. You know how I hate cooking,” you shrugged.

“Speaking of, I’m making dinner for me and Tae tonight. Jimin’s visiting his brother, so it's just the two of us. And since I’d rather not get food poisoning, I’m putting Yoongi’s lamb chop recipe to good use,” he grinned boyishly. “You should come over if you don’t have anything else planned. It’ll save you from cooking another meal.”

“I might take you up on that offer. Let me check if either Joon or Hobi are having dinner at home, otherwise I’ll definitely be there.”

xxx

Taehyung and Jimin (and now Jungkook) lived about 10 minutes away from your place. It was a much larger apartment, so three people were more than comfortable there. Jungkook was staying there until he found another place to stay, but judging by how happy Jimin and Taehyung were with him around, he would probably end up staying with them permanently.

“I found parking at your building for the first time today,” you remarked, dropping your bag on the nearest couch.

“Half the people are visiting family over the weekend. You won’t be so lucky next time.” Taehyung walked over lazily, his thick black hair falling messily over his eyes. He was dressed in his favorite Celine t-shirt and a pair of the loosest pants you had seen till date.

“The perm’s still looking good, Tae,” you grinned at him, taking the soda from his hand.

“I’m planning on getting it done again once it wears off,” he said happily, settling into the couch. “Catch up on your sleep? Or did Gguk ruin your Thanksgiving plans as well?”

“‘As well’?” you asked, trying to suppress a grin.

“Taking advantage of the nearly empty laundry room and washing all the sheets does not count as ‘ruining’ anyone’s Thanksgiving plans!” yelled Jungkook from inside the kitchen.

“He woke me up at 7 am and stripped the sheets off my bed, emptied all our laundry bags, and locked me out of my room so that I wouldn’t dirty the bare mattress with my grubby clothes.” Taehyung’s grumbling was always extremely funny because he would end up pouting by the end of his rant and no one would take him seriously after that.

“Okay, the bread is in the oven and should be ready in about 15. Lamb chops are almost done as well. We’ll be dining in no time,” said Jungkook, flopping onto the couch beside you.

“That gives me enough time to answer the emails Choi sent me this morning. Jimin was right, she’s a madwoman. Doesn’t understand what ‘a break’ is , apparently,” sighed Taehyung, getting up and walking towards his room. “Lemme know when the food is ready.”

3 years ago, if anyone had told you that you would be more than halfway through your PhD having become close friends with seven of the most handsome guys on campus (or even in the country), you would’ve laughed at them and then silently questioned their sanity. But now, you couldn’t imagine life without them. Even Jungkook, you realised, glancing at the boy next to you. He had also become an extremely important part of your life. He didn’t say much, but his actions made things abundantly clear. He was extremely caring and thoughtful, even if he didn’t always have the right words to express himself.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked, looking at you sleepily.

“That this soda is almost lukewarm.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

Suddenly, you felt a rough set of fingers poking your ribcage. Slowly, but surely, you were squirming in place as you struggled to not spill your soda while Jungkook continued tickling you mercilessly.

“I know your weakness, remember?” he managed to say between giggles, his voice turning high-pitched as it usually did when he laughed too hard.

“Gguk stop! The soda! It’ll spill on the carpet!” you gasped, trying to keep your hand steady.

“Oh shit! Sorry. Yeah, Jimin would freak out if he saw a stain on this carpet.” Jungkook let you go so that you could place the soda can on the nearest table. But as soon as you had freed your hands, you jumped on him and pinned him on the couch.

“I also know your weakness, Gguk,” you grinned, deviously, before tickling him with all your might.

Needless to say, a scenario with two people in their mid-twenties behaving like 4 year olds, was bound to have certain consequences. In this case, it ended with both you and Jungkook falling off the couch, your faces mere inches away from each other.

This wasn’t the first time you had been struck by how handsome Jungkook was. In fact, you had noticed the exact number of moles on his face and neck, having stopped yourself from reaching out and touching the one under his lower lip on more than one occasion. His large doe eyes also held a certain innocence and wonder in them, even though he was an extremely bright and capable PhD student with a lot of varied knowledge bases. Not just that, his impressive physique had caught you off guard many times. Particularly because it contrasted so heavily with his boyish face.

None of that mattered at this moment, as you could feel his breath on your face. He was so close… If you reached up a little bit, you would be-

“The oven timer’s been beeping for the last 10 minutes. But you both are too busy eye-fucking each other to notice.”

Taehyung’s deep voice caused you both to spring apart from each other, mortification heating up your face and neck. Jungkook’s ears, you noticed, had turned a very beautiful shade of red as well.

Dinner wasn’t as awkward as you expected because Yoongi dropped by a few minutes after your ‘eye-fucking’ session, extremely hungry and annoyed at Seokjin - who had decided to use this night to slow cook some pork.

“Gguk, this is really good,” said Yoongi, once all of you had finished eating. “Didn’t think you’d be able to get it right on the first go! Y/N, what’d you think? You’ve been awfully quiet the whole time.”

You nodded your head in response, keenly aware of Taehyung’s intense gaze that followed your every move. “It was really good, Gguk. Thanks for a lovely meal.”

“Do you need a ride home, Yoongi?” you asked, once all the dishes had been cleared away. “I’ve got my car.”

“Life-saver. I need to pick up a tin of coffee from the convenience store. I’ll meet you at the parking lot in 10?” said Yoongi slipping on his jacket.

“Wait, I’ll go with you. I need to buy some soda,” said Taehyung, springing up suddenly. Not bothering to change out of his slippers, he rushed out after Yoongi, but not before glancing quickly between you and Jungkook and sending you a rather outrageous wink.

“That was… weird,” you remarked, relieved to see that Jungkook had missed your exchange with Taehyung. “Anyway, thanks again for a great meal. You’re a really good cook, Gguk.”

“Thanks,” he said, not really looking up from his phone. He had also been rather silent throughout the meal.

“I’m heading out then. See you later, Gguk.” You picked up your bag and proceeded to open the door.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You turned around to find Jungkook standing rather close to you. You could see the mole below his lower lip quite clearly from here.

“You never told me what you were thinking about.” His voice was a lot more husky than usual, and you gulped as you realised you had no clue what to say to him.

“I-”

Before you could finish your half-formed sentence, Jungkook’s lips were on yours, kissing you slowly. After being frozen for a second or two, your hands made their way into his soft brown curls, relishing in the feeling of having him so close to you. You realised that you had been wanting to do this for a while now. Maybe even since the first day of classes, when he had offered you his cup of coffee after the machine in the department had stopped working.

“Never mind,” he said, breaking the kiss with a soft ‘chu’. “You can tell me another time. Yoongi’s probably waiting at the parking lot.”

“And Tae might come back any minute now,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, a soft smile on his face.

“Tomorrow?” It seemed like your brain had short circuited.

“Yeah.” He dipped down and placed another chaste kiss on your mouth, before displaying his adorable bunny smile. “But even that seems too far away right now.”

You were really grateful that you managed to get both yourself and Yoongi home without crashing the car that night. Once you got home, you checked your phone and found two messages - a text from Jungkook checking if you had reached home safe, and another one from Taehyung.

T: the couch is off limits. don’t even think about it...

xxx

please do not repost anywhere. reblog if you enjoyed the story!

#jungkook #jungkook fic #taehyung #jimin #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #bts #bangtan #bangtan fic #c me write bangtan

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