#A ROBOT WOULD NOT FAIL THIS HARD

[desertduality]

I've been failing at captchas for like 15 minutes someone sedate me

[spring-lxcked]

wait coming back just to add that i was thinking abt the generational element of the af.tons just being a fucked up family line and i'm. fine. i swear i'm f

[arundolyn]

just realized how funny it is that relius quotes descartes and shit and apparently has deep philosophical conversations with izanami on the reg but also has little to no regard for human life most of the time

[nyancrimew]

i cheated on my robotics final

i was supposed to make an intelligent maze bot that would avoid moving obstacles and such... but it didnt. none of its sensors worked. i staged a whole presentation where i manipulated the obstacles manually to the tune of a sousa march while the robot followed a hard coded path with predetermined pauses

no one noticed. no one asked. i submitted my actual code with it, with comments that said it didnt work and that i was sorry, and the prof either didnt look at the code or didnt care

i got a 110/100 because it was so "impressive"

i got a passing grade in a programming assignment once where i couldn't be assed to do it so i just wrote some rp ass text in the report about how the customer (we got like a fake customer request to fulfill) discussed with me about how the project failed and how we would do it differently next time. crucially i did not do the actual project, like at all, i just quickly wrote fanfic about my teachers made up company and my self insert company being bad at working together. i still feel kinda bad for the people who actually did the project and somehow scored lower than me.

[yamujiburo]

You said you like sharing Team Rocket facts, sooo, what are some of your favourite facts that you don't get to share often or think not many people know? :D

Yam's Top 10 Team Rocket Fun Facts!

Jessie and James are both 25 years old

Jessie and James are NOT siblings (you'd be surprised how many people think they are). They have almost polar opposite backstories from each other.

James grew up rich but ran away from home at a young age because of all the pressure as well as his arranged marriage with Jessebelle (who looks exactly like Jessie funnily enough)

Jessie's mother, referred to as Miyamoto, was also a Team Rocket operative who worked directly under Giovanni's mother Madame Boss. However Miyamoto went MIA while on a mission looking for Mew and never came back, leaving Jessie to grow up in foster care

Jessie and James in English are named after the outlaw Jesse James which most people seem to know about. Buuut in Japanese, they're called Musashi and Kojiro, named after the famous swordsmen Miyamoto Musashi and Sasaki Kojiro. Musashi kills Kojiro so do with that what you will. Sub fun fact: Musashi and Kojiro's duel is referenced in Sun and Moon with Jessie battling Ash and using the sun to temporarily blind him and Pikachu before striking.

The Team Rocket trio are based off of the Time Skeletons from Time Bokan, who are probably the earliest version of the very specific trope "san-aku" (literally translated to three evil). The trope usually depicts one female leader and two bumbling men, one short and one tall. They also regularly build mechs/robots and beef with kids. In Sun in Moon, they DIRECTLY reference the Time Skeletons!

When the Johto series came to an end a decision had to be made on whether Misty or Team Rocket would leave the series. Head writer Takeshi Shudo fought really hard to keep Team Rocket (I think it's safe to say that they were his favorite characters). Seeing how Team Rocket stayed in the series till the very end, I think it's obvious to see what the end result of that decision was

The reason Jessie, in later seasons of Pokémon doesn't smack around James and Meowth as much/at all is because her voice actress, Megumi Hayashibara personally requested that the writers make her less violent. She felt it went against the "good natured villain" concept Takeshi Shudo originally had for them. On Hayashibara, Jessie's "failed nurse" backstory is based on Hayashibara's experience in trying to become a nurse.

James' love for sports and racing is often depicted in the show and is a reference to his VA, Shinichiro Miki's, love for cars and racing.

The reason Team Rocket crossdresses is literally just because the artists thought James looked better in a dress than Jessie did and ran with it

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Three AI insights for hard-charging, future-oriented smartypantses

MERE HOURS REMAIN for the Kickstarter for the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There’s also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

Living in the age of AI hype makes demands on all of us to come up with smartypants prognostications about how AI is about to change everything forever, and wow, it's pretty amazing, huh?

AI pitchmen don't make it easy. They like to pile on the cognitive dissonance and demand that we all somehow resolve it. This is a thing cult leaders do, too – tell blatant and obvious lies to their followers. When a cult follower repeats the lie to others, they are demonstrating their loyalty, both to the leader and to themselves.

Over and over, the claims of AI pitchmen turn out to be blatant lies. This has been the case since at least the age of the Mechanical Turk, the 18th chess-playing automaton that was actually just a chess player crammed into the base of an elaborate puppet that was exhibited as an autonomous, intelligent robot.

The most prominent Mechanical Turk huckster is Elon Musk, who habitually, blatantly and repeatedly lies about AI. He's been promising "full self driving" Telsas in "one to two years" for more than a decade. Periodically, he'll "demonstrate" a car that's in full-self driving mode – which then turns out to be canned, recorded demo:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/

Musk even trotted an autonomous, humanoid robot on-stage at an investor presentation, failing to mention that this mechanical marvel was just a person in a robot suit:

https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai

Now, Musk has announced that his junk-science neural interface company, Neuralink, has made the leap to implanting neural interface chips in a human brain. As Joan Westenberg writes, the press have repeated this claim as presumptively true, despite its wild implausibility:

https://joanwestenberg.com/blog/elon-musk-lies

Neuralink, after all, is a company notorious for mutilating primates in pursuit of showy, meaningless demos:

https://www.wired.com/story/elon-musk-pcrm-neuralink-monkey-deaths/

I'm perfectly willing to believe that Musk would risk someone else's life to help him with this nonsense, because he doesn't see other people as real and deserving of compassion or empathy. But he's also profoundly lazy and is accustomed to a world that unquestioningly swallows his most outlandish pronouncements, so Occam's Razor dictates that the most likely explanation here is that he just made it up.

The odds that there's a human being beta-testing Musk's neural interface with the only brain they will ever have aren't zero. But I give it the same odds as the Raelians' claim to have cloned a human being:

https://edition.cnn.com/2003/ALLPOLITICS/01/03/cf.opinion.rael/

The human-in-a-robot-suit gambit is everywhere in AI hype. Cruise, GM's disgraced "robot taxi" company, had 1.5 remote operators for every one of the cars on the road. They used AI to replace a single, low-waged driver with 1.5 high-waged, specialized technicians. Truly, it was a marvel.

Globalization is key to maintaining the guy-in-a-robot-suit phenomenon. Globalization gives AI pitchmen access to millions of low-waged workers who can pretend to be software programs, allowing us to pretend to have transcended the capitalism's exploitation trap. This is also a very old pattern – just a couple decades after the Mechanical Turk toured Europe, Thomas Jefferson returned from the continent with the dumbwaiter. Jefferson refined and installed these marvels, announcing to his dinner guests that they allowed him to replace his "servants" (that is, his slaves). Dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, of course – they just keep them out of sight:

https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/

So much AI turns out to be low-waged people in a call center in the Global South pretending to be robots that Indian techies have a joke about it: "AI stands for 'absent Indian'":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

A reader wrote to me this week. They're a multi-decade veteran of Amazon who had a fascinating tale about the launch of Amazon Go, the "fully automated" Amazon retail outlets that let you wander around, pick up goods and walk out again, while AI-enabled cameras totted up the goods in your basket and charged your card for them.

According to this reader, the AI cameras didn't work any better than Tesla's full-self driving mode, and had to be backstopped by a minimum of three camera operators in an Indian call center, "so that there could be a quorum system for deciding on a customer's activity – three autopilots good, two autopilots bad."

Amazon got a ton of press from the launch of the Amazon Go stores. A lot of it was very favorable, of course: Mister Market is insatiably horny for firing human beings and replacing them with robots, so any announcement that you've got a human-replacing robot is a surefire way to make Line Go Up. But there was also plenty of critical press about this – pieces that took Amazon to task for replacing human beings with robots.

What was missing from the criticism? Articles that said that Amazon was probably lying about its robots, that it had replaced low-waged clerks in the USA with even-lower-waged camera-jockeys in India.

Which is a shame, because that criticism would have hit Amazon where it hurts, right there in the ole Line Go Up. Amazon's stock price boost off the back of the Amazon Go announcements represented the market's bet that Amazon would evert out of cyberspace and fill all of our physical retail corridors with monopolistic robot stores, moated with IP that prevented other retailers from similarly slashing their wage bills. That unbridgeable moat would guarantee Amazon generations of monopoly rents, which it would share with any shareholders who piled into the stock at that moment.

See the difference? Criticize Amazon for its devastatingly effective automation and you help Amazon sell stock to suckers, which makes Amazon executives richer. Criticize Amazon for lying about its automation, and you clobber the personal net worth of the executives who spun up this lie, because their portfolios are full of Amazon stock:

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

Amazon Go didn't go. The hundreds of Amazon Go stores we were promised never materialized. There's an embarrassing rump of 25 of these things still around, which will doubtless be quietly shuttered in the years to come. But Amazon Go wasn't a failure. It allowed its architects to pocket massive capital gains on the way to building generational wealth and establishing a new permanent aristocracy of habitual bullshitters dressed up as high-tech wizards.

"Wizard" is the right word for it. The high-tech sector pretends to be science fiction, but it's usually fantasy. For a generation, America's largest tech firms peddled the dream of imminently establishing colonies on distant worlds or even traveling to other solar systems, something that is still so far in our future that it might well never come to pass:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead

During the Space Age, we got the same kind of performative bullshit. On The Well David Gans mentioned hearing a promo on SiriusXM for a radio show with "the first AI co-host." To this, Craig L Maudlin replied, "Reminds me of fins on automobiles."

Yup, that's exactly it. An AI radio co-host is to artificial intelligence as a Cadillac Eldorado Biaritz tail-fin is to interstellar rocketry.

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins

[reachartwork]

how to write fight scenes

many people have told me that Chum has good fight scenes. a small subset of those people have asked me on advice for how to write fight scenes. i am busy procrastinating, so i have distilled my general ethos on fight scenes into four important points. followed by a homework assignment.

Fight scenes take place on two axii - the physical and the intellectual. For the most interesting fight scenes, neither character should have a full inventory of the other's abilities, equipment, fighting style, etc. This gives you an opportunity to pull out surprises, but, more importantly, turns each fight into a jockeying of minds, as all characters involved have to puzzle out what's going on in real time. This is especially pertinent for settings with power systems. It feels more earned if the characters are trying to deduce the limitations and reach of the opponent's power rather than the opponent simply explaining it to them (like in Bleach. Don't do that). 1a. Have characters be incorrect in their assumptions sometimes, leading to them making mistakes that require them to correct their internal models of an opponent under extreme pressure. 1b. If you really have to have a character explain their powers to someone there should be a damn good reason for it. The best reason is "they are lying". The second best reason is "their power requires it for some reason".

Make sure your blows actually have weight. When characters are wailing at each other for paragraphs and paragraphs and nothing happens, it feels like watching rock 'em sock 'em robots. They beat each other up, and then the fight ends with a decisive blow. Not interesting! Each character has goals that will influence what their victory condition is, and each character has a physical body that takes damage over the course of a fight. If someone is punched in the gut and coughs up blood, that's an injury! It should have an impact on them not just for the fight but long term. Fights that go longer than "fist meets head, head meets floor" typically have a 'break-down' - each character getting sloppier and weaker as they bruise, batter, and break their opponent, until victory is achieved with the last person standing. this keeps things tense and interesting.

I like to actually plan out my fight scenes beat for beat and blow for blow, including a: the thought process of each character leading to that attempted action, b: what they are trying to do, and c: how it succeeds or fails. In fights with more than two people, I like to use graph paper (or an Excel spreadsheet with the rows turned into squares) to keep track of positions and facings over time.

Don't be afraid to give your characters limitations, because that means they can be discovered by the other character and preyed upon, which produces interesting ebbs and flows in the fight. A gunslinger is considerably less useful in a melee with their gun disarmed. A swordsman might not know how to box if their sword is destroyed. If they have powers, consider what they have to do to make them activate, if it exhausts them to use, how they can be turned off, if at all. Consider the practical applications. Example: In Chum, there are many individuals with pyrokinetic superpowers, and none of them have "think something on fire" superpowers. Small-time filler villain Aaron McKinley can ignite anything he's looking at, and suddenly the fight scenes begin constructing themselves, as Aaron's eyes and the direction of his gaze become an incredibly relevant factor.

if you have reached this far in this essay I am giving you homework. Go watch the hallway fight in Oldboy and then novelize it. Then, watch it again every week for the rest of your life, and you will become good at writing fight scenes.

as with all pieces of advice these are not hard and fast rules (except watching the oldboy hallway fight repeatedly) but general guidelines to be considered and then broken when it would produce an interesting outcome to do so.

okay have a good day. and go read chum.

[saerins]

─── 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4.7k | content: fluff (i promise), slight insecurities, comfort, 5 times he says yes and 1 time he says no

notes: ok ok so guys !! i know i’ve been posting angst recently so i offer you comfort sae !! <3 this man has my entire heart so i’m just gonna embrace it hehe may or may not have been thinking of ‘daylight’ when i wrote this .

summary: the way sae loves you is beautiful. it’s nothing like you envisioned and something you never knew you needed.

“be my girlfriend, then, idiot.”

he’s handsome, seventeen.

even more handsome when he’s on the field, being the beast you know he is. he dribbles past everyone like they’re robots, like they’re snails. he gets into the penalty area and scores, and everyone in the stand cheers.

if there’s one common knowledge in your high school, it’s that itoshi sae is one of the world’s best soccer players.

maybe it’s no wonder that you’re holding a bag full of gifts for sae for valentines, being assistant manager for your school’s soccer team. it’s astounding how heavy this bag is. but you’ll know that in the end, whatever’s inside will likely get distributed between the entire team anyway, given how sae never accepts a single one.

“is it that time of the year again?” sae sighs, squirting water from his bottle into his mouth, towel hanging around his neck as he walks out of the locker room shirtless, fresh after a shower and hair all damp, sticking to the sides of his face.

still handsome.

“would it kill you to accept at least one of them?”

you expect one of his usual retorts—maybe a yes or a one of them could be poisonous. but instead, he grabs the bag from you, still frowning. “fine then,” he says, opening the bag and peering inside before he turns his gaze back onto you, “which one’s from you?”

the one with the purple post-it attached to sae’s favourite candy bar.

“i didn’t give you any, itoshi,” you lie, keeping your calm and crossing your arms. but sae cocks a brow because he doesn’t believe you. “really!”

“yeah, you sure about that?” sae’s tone takes a surprisingly gentle turn, and you find it hard to get used to. especially when it’s coupled with an amused expression.

“really, i’d die before giving anything to a grump like you.”

sae nods his head like he doesn’t believe you and starts rifling through the contents. he takes something out—a candy bar with a purple post-it attached to it. you can’t escape from him even if you tried.

“you’re the most irritating smart handsome guy i know, i hope you make it to the big leagues, i’ll never get tired of watching you play,” sae reads out loud, monotonously because it’s his way of mocking you. his gaze shifts from the note up to you, and he has his answer by your unwillingness to meet his eyes. “slick.”

“oh, shut up,” you tell him before turning on your heels and walking off.

“you want me so bad.”

“you wish, itoshi sae.”

“hey, take the rest of these away from me,” sae calls after you, referring to the big bag of valentines’ gifts you’d just left him with.

you turn around, walking backwards. “i’m not your girlfriend, itoshi, not my job!”

sae smirks. “be my girlfriend then, idiot.”

taken off guard, you fail to watch where you’re walking and fall over a broom, knocking several of the janitor’s stuff over. sae runs over, straight-faced while he holds his hand out to you.

“damn klutz,” he remarks as he pulls you up on your feet.

you’re thankful sae’s not the kind to make jokes like how he swept you off your feet, but the close proximity is making you giddy, in a good way, and you’re not sure you want to pass up on that.

“so?”

“so what, itoshi? and let me go,” you say, trying to pull away from him. he doesn’t let go though.

“say yes, then i’ll let go,” he tells you, and you can feel his breath fanning your lips and you’re sure he’s having a field day watching you get flustered.

“sure you want me, itoshi sae?” because a part of you finds that hard to believe, with the way he rejects other girls left and right and barely feels any remorse.

but what you don’t know is how different you are to him. if he dare say, special. maybe it’s the way you’ve always seemed like the stubborn kind, the kind of girl that refuses to ask for help but secretly wants to be protected. the kind of girl who can always help herself, but kill him if he thinks you’re someone who wouldn’t mind having someone to lean on.

maybe at some point, he started to want to be that person for you. no matter how many times you scream his name for not complying to schedules, no matter how many times you flip your hair against his face. you have everyone on the soccer team on a leash, and most of all sae.

that’s the first time he tells you—yes, he wants you.

“not even if you bribe me.”

at nineteen, sae’s serious about you.

it’s no secret that he’s devoted—you can feel it. because sae isn’t the type to profess his love every day, no. he’s the kind that shows it through his actions, through the way he automatically carries your shopping for you, through the way he always takes your side in public, through the way he looks at you whenever you’re talking.

you have no doubt about it. it doesn’t even cross your mind that he might stray. yeah, you have your priorities, and he has his. you’ll go after them, and he’ll go after his—there’s no reason why you can’t chase your dreams in parallel.

your parents think otherwise, though.

like some rather typical parents do, they’re sceptical; sae can see it in their eyes. the way they furrow their brows whenever you invite him to chime in during dinner, the way they ask investigative questions—things about his past history that even you never asked him.

“mom!” you’re fed up with their interrogation tactics, shooting a warning glare at your parents.

your mom and dad look at each other in resignation before resuming to quietly eat their dinner. you’re reluctant to leave sae alone at the dinner table with your parents while you help to wash up, but sae tells you he’ll be fine. because he will.

they’re humans. they’re like you, just older and less prettier. why should sae be scared?

as expected, the moment you turn the tap on, your parents jump on him.

“you know, she really likes you,” your mom tells him. “i can’t say the same for you, though.”

sae’s never navigated around conversations with parents. he doesn’t know the first thing about this. he’s just keeping his fingers crossed he doesn’t fuck up.

“you look like someone who has a lot of girls, itoshi,” your father chimes in before sae can speak up. “you have a lot of girls on the side?”

he could not be more wrong.

“none, sir.”

why does this effort feel much more than necessary?

“why y/n?” your mother jumps in, and for the first time tonight, sae spots a genuine curiosity in her eyes.

not the best question to ask someone who doesn’t even remotely talk about their feelings. sae finds himself stumped, but your mother is, fortunately, a nice person deep down.

“just tell me this,” she leans forward, and your father seems to relax a little bit, sinking back against his chair. none of you realise the tap’s turned off. “do you love her?”

that’s… premature, if sae has any say in it. and he thinks it’s criminal that he’s telling your mother before he even tells you, but he knows that not admitting it would likely cause a rift between you and them—not something he wants.

making you miserable? no thank you.

so he nods, “yes, i do.”

“you realise that—”

“sir, let me put it this way: you can’t force me to stay away from her, not even if you bribe me.”

from the kitchen, you smile as you listen. looks like you had nothing to worry about after all.

“they’re nothing compared to you.”

you love seeing sae living his dreams; love having front-row seats to his matches, love catching the fleeting glimpses he gives after he wins.

he’s twenty-one and thriving in the soccer scene, more than ever. world-famous and revered. the two of you are stronger than ever, still, because despite how sae looks, he’s much softer than people think.

when he’s running late from practice, he texts you the moment he can, tells you what’s up. when he has to cancel on you, he makes sure he makes it up to you. if he has soccer obligations on special occasions, he’ll let you know.

it’s funny thinking back to the days when you used to squabble with each other, to the days when everyone was tired of hearing you and sae argue.

not that that should be a problem now anymore—why? simple, because non-disclosure agreements are ass. but a highly recommended thing by his publicist; to protect his image, and then he told you not to take it personally because he’s asking all of sae’s close contacts to sign it too.

which didn’t take long.

it was mostly rin and his parents, and some other guys he used to know back in high school.

oh, and there’s you. apparently, you can’t divulge anything about being in a relationship with itoshi sae. so, as far as the world is concerned, he’s a bachelor.

“it’ll sell better,” was all the explanation his publicist offered.

sae had been against it, because why should he hide you from the world? and it’s stupid. but his publicist is smart, pointing out that you might get harassed online if his loyal fans find out. (to which sae begrudgingly agreed to, for the interim.)

it was fine, up to a point, but you’d never really considered how you’d feel seeing all these headlines of sae possibly being romantically linked with all these socialites and up-and-coming movie stars.

a part of you, the prideful part, is too stuck-up to ask your boyfriend for assurance. mainly because you think it’s stupid. sae constantly texts you when he’s not with you (as much as his schedule allows), and whenever he’s done for the day he goes back home and calls you if he can.

the other part of you, the lovestruck one, is afraid that maybe you can’t measure up to everyone else. that just maybe, you’re worlds apart and you’re not good enough.

usually you’d wait for sae to tell you he’s home, you’d let him rest his mind on the way back, but this time you’re impulsive and you’re dialing his number before you know it.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, picking up after just two rings. even he knows you don’t usually initiate the calls.

“um,” you stutter because you don’t actually know how to tell him you’re calling to ask for assurance. despite having been together for four years, you realise that neither of you have actually sat down and talked about feelings.

“babe, talk to me,” sae urges you, and you can hear him getting off the bus. he must have just reached his apartment complex. he must’ve been tired from an entire day of intensive bootcamp and here you are, calling him with your trivial matters.

“it’s nothing, sae, forget it.”

“wait, what—”

you hang up before he can say anything and quickly text him.

i’m feeling a little sick tonight, just going to rest early.

sae leaves you on read and you think you’ve fended him off.

you did not.

an hour later, he’s at your door, carrying all your favorite convenience store snacks and a worried expression.

“what is it?” he asks you. you’re a little too stunned to speak. sae lets himself in, placing the snacks on your dining table before he really looks at you, surveying your face. “what were you crying about?”

you suddenly feel stupid for thinking your puffy eyes wouldn’t give you away.

sae tips your chin up when you try to look down. “y/n, tell me,” and he sounds only concerned, and the guilt builds up inside you.

so you tell him—you tell him about your intrusive thoughts as he lets you lay against his chest on the couch. you tell him about your insecurities as he sits in silence and listens. you tell him that you think it’s stupid of you to think this and you’re beginning to think you’re an ass for keeping him up so late when he has training tomorrow morning.

but sae doesn’t feel that. not one bit.

“it’s not stupid,” he tells you, and if you’d been able to see his expression, you’d know that he can never look at anyone the same way he looks at you. “all those girls you’re worried about, they’re nothing compared to you.”

“really?” you sniffle, appreciating the fact that even though he’s horrible at talking emotions, he’s trying his best for you.

sae pulls some hair away from your face and you pull back to get a good look at him. “really, stupid.” you laugh and he laughs, and now you’re really feeling stupid because there’s no way sae would ever choose anyone else over you. would never dream of having any other option.

“promise?”

sae sighs, in that lovingly way he does. “yes, i promise,” and he means it—he’s never thought of being with anyone else. “i love you, don’t i?”

you nod, chuckling because yes, yes he does. and yes, you know that more than anyone. even if it has to be kept under wraps for now; there’s no cause for concern.

when you fall asleep on his chest and sae’s too cautious to wake you up, your mother wakes up to take some water and stumbles upon the sight. she greets sae with a nod and a smile, the softest one he’s seen so far.

“my daughter has good taste.”

“that’s a secret.”

sae’s only getting more and more famous as he gets older. a year later and he’s already garnering attention from everyone, with girls lining up to be a possible mrs itoshi.

you’re still unknown; hidden in the crevices, tucked between pieces of signed contracts. you’re dealing with it, it’s fine. it’s going great, only because you’ve learned to get used to it. it was either that or to call everything off, and you don’t want that.

it’s a friday night and sae’s away for another match, this time in london, and you’re watching post-game interviews on your screen while you finish your pack of chips.

they finally get to sae, throwing the normal obligatory questions like how he feels after winning the match, how he feels like being the man of the match. until they start asking personal questions like who he’d like to dedicate his win to.

he dodges the first few easily with vague answers. but then they get even more personal.

“so, itoshi, rumours have it that you’ve been in a long-term relationship now, is that true?”

you freeze up hearing the question, noticing how sae momentarily looks to the right before he rolls his eyes and turns back to the interviewer.

“maybe,” he answers, and you’re surprised. that’s the first time he’s probably not listened to his publicist.

“now who is this lucky lady?”

sae sighs, “that’s a secret.”

his interview ends there as he retreats back into the locker room, your phone vibrating almost immediately after.

one day i’m gonna show you off to everyone.

you smile as you type your response.

sure you want the whole world to know you belong to me?

you expect a retort about how it’s the other way around, but he does one better.

fuck yes.

“you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

you’re both comfortable, twenty-three and lounging in sae’s apartment, curled up in the couch, fingers intertwined and spending a lazy sunday in.

it’s right smack in the middle of his break and you’ve got him to yourself for four entire months. it’s been good, so good.

everyday you’re reminded of why you love him, of why he’s yours. the way he pulls you back against him in the mornings when you wake up. the way he says your name when he’s sleepy, the raspiness in his voice known only to you.

“hey, i’m heading out for a while,” he tells you, slipping on his slides and unlocking the door.

that’s how it usually goes; you’re still not allowed to admit to your relationship, even if sae has hinted at being in a committed relationship. what his publicist considers as minimising risks is that both of you shouldn’t be seen out in public together. that’s why you’re having fun nights out at odd hours and being romantic in private.

sae often just leaves in the middle of the day, some alone time and maybe get some groceries since you can’t let yourself be seen leaving his apartment. it’s not an ideal situation, but you’ll take it. the last thing you want to do is make his life harder.

while he’s gone, you do the chores—make the bed, defrost some chicken breasts, vacuum, maybe wash the laundry. he’s doing his best to learn the right way to do chores (because one time when you asked him to help vacuum he ended up vacuuming the bathroom too), but you find it’s easier if you just do them instead.

usually he comes back by now, takes about a half an hour because his apartment is nestled in the centre of town, surrounded by all the stores and amenities he could need. but you stare at the clock.

it’s been an hour and a half, what’s he up to?

sae doesn’t even respond when you text him. right as you’re about to call him, worried, you hear his keys jangling and the door opening.

you expected to find him carrying a huge bag of groceries with the amount of time he was gone, but he’s empty-handed and you’re starting to think maybe he was hounded by paparazzi.

“did you have trouble with some press?” you ask innocently, mop in your hand.

sae sighs, “fuck no, thank god.” he toes off his slides and tosses his keys on the dining table, taking his cap off and tousling his hair. his pretty pretty reddish brown locks.

“oh, then where’d you go?”

sae smirks at you this time, hiding something behind his back.

“what’re you up to, itoshi?”

he rolls his eyes because you only call him that when you’re afraid. “relax, baby,” he coos, inching closer to you and revealing what he’s holding.

sae’s holding up your keychain; a mini figurine of sae you got from one of the gift shops during his match. but you spot something that wasn’t there before—a key, painted black like the door to his apartment.

“sae?”

“this key’s yours.”

you blink at him, a little stupefied. “sae, did you get lost while trying to find the key copy place?”

sae clicks his tongue, annoyed. “shut up, do you want this or not?” by the way he’s all red, he did get lost.

you take the key from him, suppressing a grin. “aw thanks, now i can let myself in.”

sae sighs again, “i’m asking you to move in, stupid.”

“y-you want me to move in here?”

“yes.”

“like, you want to see my face everytime you wake up and before you go to bed?”

“yeah.”

“you want me to live here with you, together?”

“yes and if you ask anymore i’ll take it back.” because sae’s aware that you’re asking out of disbelief—he loves his alone time yet here he is, asking you to be with him whenever he’s back home. which isn’t that hard to believe for him; you’re the only one he’d ever want to be alone together with.

you giggle, “okay okay, roomie.”

sae only sighs. “you make me lose my goddamn mind.”

“i don’t want this anymore.”

it’s your fault, it’s all your fault.

sae’s publicist is at the house, screaming at the top of his lungs, and by sae’s unamused expression, he’s not having it. he’s just controlling himself so he doesn’t end up getting a lawsuit filed against him for employee abuse.

“who thinks it’s safe to go out wearing their boyfriend’s jersey, which isn’t even for sale yet by the way,” he rants, staring straight at you, “and go down and buy a birthday cake on his birthday and take it up to his apartment, all while knowing that the press is gonna be camping outside the complex?”

he makes you feel stupid.

sae steps in front of you, his broad shoulders the only thing making you feel safe from his publicist’s constant attack. “you yell at my girl one more time and you’re done,” sae threatens, managing to get his publicist to storm out of the house.

apparently, sae had a big endorsement deal all planned with the one stipulation being that he had to appear a bachelor up until the stunt was over. and now his publicist’s mad because that’s all down the drain and his commissions are gone.

“hey, you okay?” sae asks you, gently, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

you’re fine, you’ll get over it. it’s just what his publicist said that gets in your head.

it’s like you’re trying to ruin his deals.

being with a famous pro player comes with some form of caution, you know that right?

she’s just in the fucking way!

weeks pass and it’s not easier to drown out the voices. sae’s good at it, so he’s already moved past it, resumes work as per usual, assumes you’re okay too because of the multitude of times you insisted that you are.

but really? it’s fucking difficult.

if you thought you were insecure before everyone knew about you, it’s ten times worse now. while the majority of people are nice about it, saying wonderful stuff like how the two of you are so sweet and look so good together, there’s still so many people who shit on you.

wait, i thought he was with that model from that one shoot? damn, he got the short end of the stick with his gf lol

lmaooo what a downgrade from that other soccer star he was dating

@itosae you okay, dude? you blind or something?

there’s a lot more than that. a lot. some of them even found your account, messaged you directly and said some less-than-nice things.

you keep it all from sae, though. the last thing you need to do is distract him any further, especially when he has the champions’ league coming up.

“i’m fine, mom,” you say one night when your mother calls to check up on you. “i promise.”

you’re a bad daughter, keeping these from your mother who’s just concerned. she isn’t convinced, but she hangs up anyway afterwards, telling you to rest.

it’s easy for things to spiral when you keep them all to yourself. the voices in your head that belongs to sae’s disgruntled fans growing louder, drowning out the words of affection sae tells you everyday.

until one day you think you can’t take it anymore.

they’re all telling you that you’re not good enough, that you’re just a burden. his publicist is nowhere near your side, instead silently siding with the fans who berate you. sae’s oblivious to it all, you think, because he doesn’t do anything about it.

one day you’re just sitting side by side, watching a movie, sae’s arm around your shoulders, his fingers idly twirling your hair.

“sae, we need to talk.”

like the lover he is, he pauses the movie, adjusting himself to look at you. “yeah, what is it?” he’s smiling at you because he has no idea what’s coming.

and you know, you know if you tell him what you really think that it won’t work, so you put on your best game face. truth be told, you’d been building up to this moment anyway, purposely telling him you’d be busy whenever he’s back from his games just so you won’t spend time together. it was all to give him the illusion that you just weren’t interested anymore, no matter how fucked up that sounds.

“i don’t want this anymore.”

sae furrows his brows. “what? what’s this?”

you sigh, feigning frustration. “this, sae. us. i don’t want this anymore.”

“why not?”

“because i’m tired. i’m tired of dating someone who’s half here and half not, i’m tired of tolerating your stupid habits, i’m tired of being with you, sae.” you’re raising your voice, but sae doesn’t flinch. his expression doesn’t even change. you’re beginning to think you broke him, made him malfunction.

when sae doesn’t say anything, you continue.

“i want to break up.”

sae looks away from you, at the patch of rug on the floor beside him, jaw clenched. he blinks a few times before he looks back at you.

“no.”

now it’s your turn to be confused. “w-what?”

sae tilts his head to the side, concern etched in his expression. “i said no, y/n,” he repeats, sighing. he puts his forefinger under your chin, his thumb caressing the side of your face. “who are you trying to fool?”

“i-i mean what i said, sae.”

you’re in disbelief. you hate how he knows you better than anyone else, maybe better than yourself, and you’re beginning to realise no one can come close to sae for you.

“so you don’t love me anymore? don’t wanna be my girl anymore?” he asks, but it’s redundant because he knows the answers. “i love you, okay? and i’d be a shit boyfriend if i let you go like this.”

you’re speechless, so you don’t say a thing, just sit awkwardly in front of him while for the first time in his life, he resolves to being there for you.

“look, i don’t know what mean things people are saying online, but fuck them,” he tells you.

“sae, it’s not easy,” you sniffle.

“then talk to me, and stop shutting me out, you idiot,” he chastises, and you find yourself falling onto him. “i fired my publicist too, by the way. couldn’t stand him spouting shit about you even after i told him to shut the fuck up.”

you laugh at his exasperation, your chest somehow feeling lighter.

“and, do me a favor? ignore the mean comments, yeah?” sae tells you, softer this time. “i kinda don’t ever wanna lose you, so.” he has his head resting on top of yours, your fingers intertwined and your heart soaring.

until now, you’d thought it’d be easy to drive sae away. you thought if you’d been enough of a nuisance, an eyesore, that he’d just take your word for it and run, that he’d throw a fit and let you leave.

but he doesn’t.

sae stays. and he tells you to stay. because he doesn’t know much about laundry, or how to handle feelings, but what he knows is how to love you. he knows what you need and he knows what you’re thinking, even if he doesn’t necessarily tell you about it.

and sae is a bitch to the world. he’s not the friendliest to fans nor does he care about making friends or enemies.

but to you, he’s everything. he says no to either of you straying and he says yes to whatever you ask except when it doesn’t make sense and you never knew that this was the beauty of being with someone who wants you—in every sense of the word.

there’s a certain threshold to pass before you can see everything clearly. suddenly it’s like the mean voices are faded into the background, and suddenly sae’s love is all you hear, and nothing is blurred because now all you can think about is how even if the world fails you, sae never will.

“hey, sae?”

“mhm?”

“thank you.”

he smiles against your head and you can feel it. “i love you, stupid.”

and you love him; recognising your handwriting and sweeping you off your feet. you love him; braving your parents, living his dreams. you love him; protecting you and showing up at your door. you love him; bashful yearning and unwavering emotions.

so you kiss him in response, and that’s all he needs to know that you’re with him for life.

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Though the Hamato clan in Rise is often more openly affectionate than past iterations I’ve noticed that the amount that each family member actually says the words ‘I love you’ actually differs for each family member.

Mikey: I’ll say it again, I love you guys

Leo: We did it!

Mikey: Love you dad!

Splinter: My sons, you know I love you, but you only remember lessons when you learn them the hard way

Splinter: We are not giving them the evil teapot, we are going to save my beloved sons!

Throughout the series Mikey & Splinter are the ones who tell their family that they love them the most, often either staying it in their everyday life or having it come up in conversation. They’re the ones that most easily say ‘I love you’ because it’s a simple fact to them, they do love their family why shouldn’t they say it?

Raph: Tests are easy, it’s answers that are hard 

Donnie: I love you so much! Let’s do it!

Leo: We learned a valuable something about never something-ing you alone again

Raph: Aww I love you guys!

In contrast to Mikey & Splinter, Raph & Donnie are the ones who use the words ‘I love you’ the least out of the family because they have other ways of showing their family that they love them, Donnie shows his love for his family through his inventions & Raph shows his love for his family by protecting them & keeping them safe.

Donnie & Raph save the words ‘I love you’ for moments where they’re particularly excited or touched such as when Raph gives Donnie the go-ahead to use an untested invention because he believes in Donnie’s inventions enough to think, even untested it will help or when Leo promises Raph they won’t leave him alone again, even taking care to not say the word ‘leave’ because he knows the word is upsetting to Raph.

Leo: I love you guys!

Leo on the other hand is firmly in the middle, he says the words ‘I love you’ more than Donnie & Raph, but he’s not as able to simply say it in everyday conversation the way Mikey & Splinter are.

In fact Leo seems to save the words ‘I love you’ for situations where he feels as though something is wrong & he feels as though he’s let down or upset his family in someway.

Leo: Raphael, I love you my brother but you do tend to fail in big moments.

Leo: Raph, you know I love you but people don’t focus on punctuation when they’re stuck in concrete

Leo: Donnie, you gotta stop this! I love you and your gaming is hurting me!

Leo: Okay Señor Hueso, my beloved brother Donatello and I had a bit of a spat

Raph is the person Leo typically says ‘I love you’ to the most & he usually says it when he’s pointing out a flaw in his older brother’s plans, it’s Leo’s way of saying even when he’s telling Raph something isn’t going to work he still loves him.

The second person Leo says ‘I love you’ to the most is Donnie & it’s usually reserved for when they are fighting such as in episode The Purple Game when Leo thought that Donnie was still controlling the robot that was attacking them & during the episode The Hidden City Job where after Leo has an argument with Donnie he primarily refers to Donnie as his ‘beloved brother’.

Leo: I love you

Splinter: No!

It seems as though Leo reserves the words ‘I love you’ for when he feels as though he’s upset a family member, either by disagreeing with them or getting into a fight with them & combining this with the fact that in the episode ‘Flushed But Never Forgotten’ when Leo thinks he might loose his family forever, the last thing he wants to say to them is how much he loves them, ‘I love you’ might be the words that Leo says when he thinks he’s done something that would make him loose his family.

When Leo says ‘I love you’ what he’s really saying is ‘I love you, please don’t be mad at me, please don’t be upset with me,’ ect

[hotxcheeto]

Hi hun! So if possible could you do a modern AU where it’s fem!reader/Abby Anderson, and Abby is a dom (and reader is a sub) and Abby is feeling soft but still wants to do the dirty so she does and is lowkey still bossy but is soft as well, like the reader cry’s from overstimulation and Abby kisses their tears away kind of thing?

I love you and you’re an amazing writer!! 🖤🖤🖤

━ 𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐄

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Smut, cursing, strap-on use ( r! receiving ), oral ( r! receiving ), kissing, teasing, soft dom aspects, slight humiliation? dom abby, sub reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - i used text to speech to make sure there's no mistakes and this poor robot. m'not sure if I like it but it's... something :0 thank you for requesting!! ily sm!!

REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD & IT'S APPRECIATED!!

"That's it... look how good you take it."

Her hips continuously kissed your own as she rocked back and forth, breaking in the new bedframe she'd just spent over four-hundred dollars on. She remembered rolling her eyes at the price for something so simple, but you begged because,

'Abby it's perfect and it's pretty look..'

…then there she was, standing in line with the box, her card practically crawling out of her wallet. You were over the moon though, unable to stop rambling about how good it was gonna match the new paint coat that you'd chosen for her to decorate the bedroom with. How all of your wall decorations would look so good above it, and how you wanted her to hang each one.

The frame was nice, she gave it that, but it needed a personal touch.

And that's exactly why her silicone cock was now buried in your cunt and your screams were surely heard by the same neighbors that helped her carry the new couch up the stairs just last week.

"Look at that pretty pussy, taking me so good." You whined something in response, holding loosely onto the pillow that kept your head elevated and your drool from ruining the already tainted, damp sheets. You held it like it was going to disappear if you didn't, crying as the toy brushed your cervix and grinded against your special spot.

"Abby-" You breathed in, moaning out a few pleas for her to go deeper. "M-more-" She found that amusing, laughing at your begs like it was a game, teasing only for a moment before she heard you whimper out a cry, turning your head, straining yourself to just catch a glance of her in the floor-length mirror leaning against the wall.

You looked absolutely pathetic, worn down to the very end of your awareness as her much larger body nearly swallowed you up whole. She held you, but not tight, just enough to keep you in place, and it felt so fucking good.

"Alright, alright, m'sorry..." A kiss was placed to your shoulder blade as her eyes met yours in the reflection, her muscle-chiseled arms cradling your lower half while she pounded into you at a head-spinning pace. "I'll give you more, just gotta spread your legs..."

Her palm pushed your inner thigh, gripping whatever she could and pulling you apart at the same time her pace picked up. Chuckling at the way your face was squished up against the pillow and your eyes failed to stay completely open.

Yours and hers reflection blurred as tears welled up, juices trickling down your ass the moment you felt a familiar bubbly feeling in your gut. Abby noticed too, though, she always noticed, but she would never confess your own tells to you. That would ruin all the fun.

"You gonna come?" She purred against the shell of your ear, reaching up to grab your face, waking you up from whatever cock-drunk daze you'd been in. "Huh? You gonna come pretty girl?"

You nodded in her hold, humming over and over while you pouted. The silicone drove you insane while rubbing against your clit each time it moved in and out, deep and melodic humps keeping you overwhelmed and fuzzy and at this point you weren't sure you knew your own left from right.

"How much you want it?" You made an unintelligible sound that made her let out a breath of entertainment, grinning at you in the reflection. "What was that?" She questioned, wiping your face to get a good look at you. "Really b-bad Abb-by-"

A sharp intake of air assured you that Abby had in fact heard you. The sound of your voice like a tantalizing song written by the sin of lust itself and fucking hell did it make her drill into faster then she'd already had been.

"Yeah?" You nodded, the waves of pleasure coming from the feeling of your bundle of nerves being abused along with your stuffed hole finally rocked you right over the edge. Hiding a scream into the fluff of the pillow and clawing at the sheets while she cooed little praises into your ear.

Legs shaking and arms having given out, you laid there whilst she pushed her pretend dick back and forth. Listening to the pretty sounds of you talk to her with pure gibberish that made no sense to anyone but yourself and even you weren't sure what you were trying to communicate anymore.

It just felt so good.

She fucked you the whole time you came, the aftershock making you twitch with bliss and finally make a move of your own. You'd begun pushing back, trying to meet her hips at the same times she'd move.

"What're you doing?" She smiled, looking down to where you both were connected, your behind doing a nice little wiggle when she gripped your ass cheek.

"Feels good..." You muttered, her body lifting itself off your own sending a rush of cool air down your spine. You took a deep breath, her chest meeting your back in a quick return only in order for her to press little kisses where your tears had frozen on your face. Sinking into your skin. But the wet marks had stayed long enough for her lips to take them away.

"I gotta clean you up..." She said softly, backing up and massaging your hips knowing that neither of you were quite ready to be done just yet. "You wanna-" She watched you shake your head, turning around as best you could with a pout and furrowed eyebrows.

"But baby... you're all messy." You looked in the mirror at the strap that was still deep inside, your own cum dripping down and onto the bed. "Abby..." You huffed, watching unclip the toy and very slowly pull it from your hole.

"Use your words, Y/n." She set the toy aside, rolling you over onto your back. "Gotta know what you want." She already knew though.

She knew all too well.

"I... Abby I want you to clean me up..." She tilted her head, looking down between your legs. "Yeah? M'gonna need you to be more specific. You want me to get a rag-" "No."

She stared blankly for a moment, examining the way you slowly worked up the courage to ask. A simple question in her mind, an act that she performed all the time, all you had to do, was say it.

"With your mouth..." You mumbled, her eyebrows raising and head tilting in just the slightest. "What'd you say?" Your hands flew over your face to hide any flustered expression you might make, face burning though the blush invisible.

"C'mon, tell me baby..." Her hands lightly pulled yours back by your wrists, pecking your nose when you became visible once more.

"I want you to clean me up... with your mouth."

Abby hummed, kissing your cheek so hard that it squished your face and made you giggle, the girl then moving down to your neck. Then... you felt her tongue glide over your nipple, giving another sloppy kiss to your boob before her warm breath trailed lower and lower.

And then... she was there, hovering just above your little bud, staring into your eyes as her tongue finally slipped from her lips, kitten licking your clit. You jerked in response, a slight gasp leaving your mouth as your gaze flickered over to the mirror.

The floral sheets caressing your skin as you watched her lean in closer, though, her line of sight was focused on you.

"Look at me." She demanded delicately, barely squeezing the underneath of your leg. At the sound of her voice, your head bobbled over making her chuckle while her eyes busied themselves in finding each time your face scrunched in the slightest.

Abby liked when her mouth would wrap around your clit, just like it was now, and you'd make one of those higher pitched whines. Sometimes a sob would follow if you'd been pushed over the edge a little bit too far than usual, and she drank each one up.

"Abby-" She'd begun sucking on the little bundle of nerves, moving just down in the slightest to lick the mess of wetness she'd created. The sounds that came from it were unholy and you wondered how anyone could abstain from the act of sex.

"M-more please..." Your voice was soft, though scratchy and in a slight pain from choking back your noises. She didn't respond as she gathered your slick with her two fingers, pushing into your abused hole while listening to you gawk at the feeling.

"Feels s'good." You sounded like a choir of angels when you spoke, looking down at her with those eyes. Those eyes that just seemed to look right through her the moment you began to shudder at the fluttery feeling of your orgasm on it's way.

Her tongue flattened against your clit moving up and down fast before she'd pull back to give it a few tiny flicks. For a moment, this is all she did, going back and forth between the two motions while you struggled to keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. Heels digging roughly into the bed below you.

"M'getting close Ab-by-" She caressed your thigh, rubbing pretty circles into your soft skin with fingertips that felt quite the opposite. You focused on that feeling, along with the way she pulled her fingers from your hole to massage the area around it.

She was being something close to gentle, bringing you up before she'd bring you down, but you were still climbing. But you'd just kept grinding weakly into her face while following after your climax that was getting only closer and closer as the milliseconds ticked by.

"Abby-" She nodded her head, not pulling away as you finally tripped yourself over the edge. Crying out as you came against her mouth while pawing at her head, trying your best to push her away despite not wanting her to leave. Abby knew your body, though, well enough to know that if she pulled back now, you wouldn't forgive her.

"Abby! Please- please..." You whimpered, a tingly wave of pleasure coursing from top to bottom, breaths shallow until her tongue slowed.

You laid there for a moment, looking at her in the mirror while she pressed a few soft kisses to your pussy. Then again to your inner thigh before pulling back and meeting your eyes in the reflection.

"So... you like the bedframe?" She smiled when you giggled, nodding your head up and down while turning your head to face her. "Mhm." She allowed you to wrap your arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to you despite both your bodies being covered in a sheer layer of perspiration.

"Good..." She purred, kissing your lips and then your cheek, and then a few other places while listening to you laugh. "Sorry it was so much.." You muttered, messing with her baby hairs while staring with blown out pupils and a far away look.

"Worth it." She said, nipping at your nose and smiling when you squealed and turned your head while laughing.

Tagging: @cherriesxinthespring

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

Insufferable

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Reader

Summary: Y/N has a lot to say about her lovely T.O.

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

----

"Hey sunshine, haven't seen you since roll call." Y/N shot daggers at her friend as she plopped down into her seat.

"I have had a long morning and that infuriating thing of a man didn't make it any easier." Nolan, Chen and West couldn't help but laugh at their friend's misery. They all had the pleasure of working with officer Bradford one on one so they knew the hell he was giving the rookie.

"I honestly don't know how you all put up with him and his method of training. I swear to God that man is half robot, half man. He's insufferable!"

While she was busy ranting about Tim, she failed to notice her friends were no longer snickering at her rant, smiles long gone frome their face as Tim stood silently behind her hearing every word from her mouth.

"I'll add that right to the list of names I've been called, Boot." Y/N felt all the colour drain from her face hearing Tim's voice directly behind her. She stood up and turned to face him.

"Sir I'm sorry-"

"Save it, let's go." Tim stormed off towards their patrol vehicle, not interested in hearing a thing she had to say.

"Someone's in trouble."

"It was nice knowing you."

"I hate you all." Y/N managed to take a bite out of her sandwich and a large gulp of her soda before trailing behind her clearly ticked off T.O.

Tim sat in the driver's seat, watching her drag her feet back to the car. She wouldn't admit it but the officer scared her even more in this moment as he watched her like a hawk.

He watched silently as she got in and buckled up. With a shake of his head he started the vehicle and pulled away from the curb. He drove past three blocks before he finally said something.

"If you think that I have been hard on you these past couple months, I am about to make your remaining months as a rookie even more insufferable. I could easily make this your last day but that would be me being nice."

Y/N wished that she could've disappeared at this very moment so she wouldn't have to deal with whatever hell Tim was surely going to put her through.

[sshadowritestoriess]

hello! could you write something with zen echo and ramattra (sorry if that's too many characters) with a human reader who kisses them even tho they don't really have a mouth, I'd like to know their reactions

Kissing robots is so good <3

Kissing Zenyatta

Kisses aren’t a display that surprises him, really!

It might have been pretty anticlimactic the first instance that you had press your lips to his faceplate, a gesture of which he gently leaned into and remained patiently still, until you pulled away

But he would still sometimes entertain you with a prized “oh!” as if he hadn’t expected it

He only apologized the first time for not being able to return the favor the same way, but he was delighted by receiving such a human affection! It pleases him immensely that you would demonstrate this kind of love as if he were human

The best he could do to reciprocate was to press his forehead against yours, lean carefully into your touch, or nudge his jaw against your cheek

He’d be ridiculously gentle doing these things, highly aware that he was of metal and that humans bruise quite easily.

When you would kiss him where he would have a mouth, he liked to respond with a verbal “mwah!” or other kiss sound

You both would also have a habit of blowing kisses to one another as well. He loves pretending to catch yours, and would feign placing it on his cheek before signing “I love you” with his hand

But he also liked to take your hands in his and press your knuckles to the nine lights of his forehead, feeling the warmth of his glow against your hands in his own means of returning the gesture

Sometimes he even asks for kisses, very politely. It’s hard to refuse (but why would you?)

Kissing Echo

Considering her face is just a hologram, you both occasionally forget that and share an amused moment when trying to kiss each other

Sometimes it’s definitely on purpose though! Feigning a kiss upon one another’s mouth with sweet smiles, and an especially elated giggle from Echo

Your one-sided kisses always make her gasp, an expressive look of joyous surprise on her face that leaves her mouth agape

She finds it so interesting, curious, and will lift to you her hands and turn her head from side to side asking “Can you do that here? And what about from here?”

So it’s not really a one-and-done— if you kiss her, you’re gonna end up doing quite a couple. She loves it very much

She doesn’t seem bothered that she can’t truly kiss you back, and if asked she’ll tell you “I think there’s something just as special about pretending!”

And it’s true. The make-believe gestures of affection are something very unique to her that may as well be real in its own way

Just because she couldn’t kiss you doesn’t mean she wasn’t. It may not be the same, but it felt no different than if she could. And it was fun, and worth her reactions

She could never bore of your kisses, nor tire of returning them.

Kissing Ramattra

Ramattra, on the other hand, would somehow end up shocked by your kisses every single time without fail. Subtly flinching as if you’d accidentally surprised him

He’d make a disgruntled noise after your display, but he’d never ask you to stop. He would, however, make sure now and again that you didn’t think he was going to be able to suddenly kiss you back one day

Sometimes he’d mutter something about “human gestures”, but it was hard to discern if it was bringing him offense or not. But again, he never told you he didn’t like it— and he was pretty open about telling you the things that brought him unease

It was more like he was just tolerating it for a while, but he’d eventually begin appreciating it

While he can’t kiss you, he does have a similar gesture that brings him a lot more satisfaction when you attempt to do the same

His specific model can summon a very brief vibration from behind the “mouth” of his faceplate, an old discreet means of communicating that uses the gentle buzz as something similar to Morse code. The pulses produce no sound, but emits a small encoded wave between omnics— like sending a text directly into someone’s mind

It wasn’t a language any human could decipher, but he’d press his ‘mouth’ to your neck or cheek and speak a quick note of affection there, anyway.

You seemed to understand it was loving. And when one day he’d tucked his face into your shoulder and his faceplate pulses ticklishly against your skin again, he was suddenly ecstatic when you leaned your throat against his head and hummed quickly, in the same rhythm he did, mocking his gesture

So, technically, you were telling him you loved him back by repeating his ‘message’, and you had no idea.

He wouldn’t admit a thing to you, but you could tell it made him pretty happy.

And while he preferred his version of “kisses” to yours, he would never turn down your ways of showing him that you loved him

[reds-skull]

Thank youuu

I love them too, I'm thinking of having them as a big brother/little brother duo maybe?? Anyway here's them buying tea for the base like stereotypical Brits

Ok first time I read this my heart melted because it's so sweet :]

I keep thinking up aus for mw2, but they're all too complicated for a one-off comic, and I just finished a series so I'm not doing another one for the time being. But I had a superpower au for them, that I'm gonna explain under a read more because I know it's gonna be long lmao

But before that thank you for everyone again! I read all your lovely comments and they warm my heart <333

SO in this au, some people gain powers the first time they die. The powers are based on how they died (also when they die they meet these cool eldritch beings called reapers that have a little chat with them to decide if they're worthy of those powers).

Soap died from an explosion. Got blown out of a building. So his powers are explosion resistance and creation. His fingertips are always on fire because he's practically blowing the air around them all the time.

Gaz fell off a helicopter :( so now he can manipulate gravity, either objects around him or himself. He also floats a few inches off the ground most times.

Price was kinda hard for me to decide but I ended up making him die by abandonment. Now he can telepathically communicate with people.

And Ghost... he died in that coffin. Got pulled out by a reaper and received the powers to control limbo, the space between life and death. He's not authorized to use them unless he's alone, so he gets sent on solo missions only, until Price recruits him to the 141.

That is, until he pairs up with Ghost.

Before being recruited to the 141, Soap mainly defused bombs. Since, even if it's too late, he won't die. Thing is, Soap still gets hurt. His bones get crushed, his heart stops, his limbs get torn apart. He does heal, but the worse the injury, the longer it takes.

That made him kinda depressed. Because he felt like a glorified bomb robot. Except he's cheaper, since it doesn't cost the military any money when he fails to defuse on time.

Ghost isn't immune to bombs. He himself doesn't enter limbo, since that traps anything alive.

He and Soap go on a mission where intel suggests the enemy has rigged various explosives around the intel they need. They split up, Soap goes to defuse them and Ghost slowly makes his way through the facility.

And Ghost does help him. But he treats him like he would a regular, non-powered human. Stops when he's in too much pain, encourages him through it. Does his best to stop the bleeding.

Ghost completes his objective, but Soap gets spotted by an enemy and detonates the bomb he's working on to save himself.

Ghost find Soap after he fails to sitrep, impaled by a rebar. He whimpers and begs Ghost to help him off it, since he can't heal.

Because Ghost sees him as human. He watched as Soap kept trying to make jokes with him, but more importantly, how he treated him no differently from anyone else.

Soap, for his side, isn't used to that... gentleness. And that's how his interest in Ghost begins.

They exfil and return to base. A few months pass, and Ghost keeps an eye on one Soap MacTavish. Looks through his medical records, past missions. Finds out just how much he suffers through.

But Ghost isn't his commending officer, so he can't do anything. Until he's approached by his captain, John Price. He brings up the option of adding a new member to the taskforce. He gives Ghost the candidates he considered, Soap was brought up, Ghost stops him and states that he would agree to a new member if it was Soap.

Now if I had like, better writing abilities I would have absolutely written this as a fic. Butttt I don't and even if I did, I don't have confidence in them so I won't. But this idea is now out there and you can do whatever you want with it.

Also I got like a lot more sketches of this au but I only posted the ones I made for the ask.

[jester089]

Not a peep

Sorry to all my unfinished requests sitting in my inbox. I will do them eventually. But their's so many character type requests and those take the most out of me because I need to really think. So I'm taking an intermission to write what I want to write. TADC Crew x Eerily Silent Reader

Caine

You never talking or making any kind of noise intrigues Caine. He has never met a human that never talks, non the less never makes any noise at all. He will most likely try to get you to say something or set up scenarios where you trip and knock something over. But they never work. You either notice them before hand. Or are able to think fast enough to stop any noise. Once he's over the initial want to disrupt your constant silence he doesn't really think of you differently. You're unique sure but you're still human.

Gangle

You freak Gangle tf out. The fact that you kind of just appear without her knowing. Or you could have been standing near her for minutes her not knowing. It makes her think you're going to do something bad to her like Jax. You never talk, or emote. Your face always unchanging. After enough time of you doing nothing good nor bad to her she starts to get used to you. You still make her uncomfortable but the fact that you haven't done anything makes her not as worried. She still isn't ok with the fact that you kind of just are around her and she doesn't know. But with enough time she will react less strongly to it. It'll never not scare her. But it can be lessened.

Zooble

Zooble appreciates you. You don't do anything to help or hinder her. You don't annoy her or try to talk to her. You are the only person she will willingly let into her room. And she stays true to that. Because when you are with her you don't touch things and don't make noise. You just exist near her. She doesn't like people. But you give her some much needed connection and attachment without pushing her like everyone else. She will secretly try and make you talk, but she never goes as far as a lot of the others. It's most just a "Hey, you feel like getting something to eat?" Just basic questions thinking you might slip up one of these times.

Kinger

Kinger surprisingly doesn't dislike you. You'd think with how jumpy he is with normal people he would really hate your quiet nature but he doesn't. Sure you scare him more often then not but he knows you are never trying to. You just exist in a way that works for you and that leads to everyone getting jump scared every other hour. You seem really mentally stable compared to everyone and not surprisingly are a very good listener. So he enjoys being around you. In moderation. It's hard to keep up conversation without any responses or even reactions from the person you're talking to. It's like talking to a living breathing inanimate object that moves. He's genuinely debating on if you're a robot or not. But your chest rises and falls just like his, you eat, drink, sleep (despite not having to), and move in a very human way.

Ragatha

At first like many others you, freak her out. She feels like you're planning something bad with how you never talk or interact. You just observe. She feels like you're gathering information to better mess with/kill everyone. It makes her sweat and get all stiff when you're so much as in the same room as her. It takes her a whole lot of time to realize you aren't hostile. You aren't really friendly either. You're just there. She appreciates you not being bad. But also you're unnerving to her and everyone else. You know when you scare someone and they "jump"? Well when you just appear next to her she jumps, literally. One time she was already on edge then you appeared next to her, she got a good foot off the ground that time.

Jax

Naturally once meeting you Jax does everything he physically can to make you talk, or react, or make any kind of sound. He always fails no matter how good his "prank" was. It annoys him. One time you got hit in the face with a full paint bucket and you didn't react or cry out in pain. You took the hit straight in the nose then hit the floor. Despite that and your nose being caved in you didn't react in the slightest and you didn't make even the smallest sound. Now he avoids you. He's scared that if he keeps pushing you're going to snap and kill him. And I don't know about you but I wouldn't mess with someone who can take a full paint bucket to the face, get their nose broken and not react at all.

Pomni

You initially freaked out Pomni but she's actually learned to really appreciate you. You still make her slightly uncomfortable but she isn't afraid of you like she used to be. You are an amazing listener, you are surprisingly strong considering how you look, you keep Jax away from her, and you help her look for an exit. Well help is a strong word. You just exist around her and every now and again when she asks for your help with something you do. She really wonders if you are just like that or getting put into the digital realm messed with your head somehow. But she can't worry about that now. Right now she needs to find a way out of here.

(You can kinda tell when I am or am-n't writing for myself. Personal stuff is usually shorter and worse quality. I go above and beyond with requests because I want people to enjoy them. But that does make me get burned out quicker.)

xoxo, Jester

[bipp-bopp-time-to-stop]

Pretty Boy

Finally, I got this finished. I had hoped to get this posted about two days earlier but damn did ending it kick my ass six ways 'til Sunday. I also changed the title of this fic because I kept reading the old title and it didn't gel as well as it used to for me. It may be a bit generic in my eyes, but it works. Although I do like him, I feel like I'm not the best at imagining or summarizing what Warriors' character is like. I still tried my best and am satisfied enough with the result. Enjoy!

TW: Yandere themes, gore, blood, long and detailed descriptions of torture, slightly suggestive in certain parts, some self deprecation on Wars' part, Wars is pretty... fucked up

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Being pretty wasn’t easy- and Wars knew this well. Yes, you could be considered attractive, but that was so… surface level. Surface level was enough to make merchants a bit more lenient towards you, makes it easier to obtain gossip, and made making “friends” less tiresome. Walking the walk wasn’t the hard part of being pretty. It was the talk.

To be pretty, handsome, desirable, beautiful, and more, required work. It required proper etiquette and good habits. It required a level head and a pleasant attitude. It required a good handle on your emotions regardless the situation. It required all of this and more. If you failed at any of this, even for a moment, pretty could get ugly.

For the longest time, Wars believed himself to be good at staying pretty. He knew he was on the surface- he wouldn’t be teased by his brothers otherwise if he wasn’t. He was usually chosen to be the face of the group when it came to handling locals and gathering information. A handsome face and charming attitude was nicer to deal with than a rugged face or snarky personality. No offense to Time and… maybe some offense to Legend.

It was tiresome. Playing nice with others he would sooner prefer to ignore or even berate. Hero he may be, he never saw himself as the tried and true goody-goody type. Thankfully, though, he didn’t have to be that with his brothers. He could partake in stupid games such as who can smash the most pots in a minute or who can last the longest in a cucco pen. He could make all sorts of dirty and dark jokes and have laughter answer him instead of shocked faces and gasps. It was freeing to be around his brothers- to forgo the title of hero and just be him.

And then you came along.

It was an unwelcome adjustment, at first. At all times now did he have to put on the facade of being this charming and polished hero. He forced himself to come to your aid whenever you stumbled or struggled with the journey they were on. Came to your defense whenever one of his brothers would snap at you for making a rookie mistake. It was clockwork to him. But you, on the other hand, weren’t.

“Wars? Mind if I talk to you about something? Uhm, privately?” You ask as you approach him with a noticeable level of hesitancy. It peaked Wars’ curiosity by a tad but he was far from surprised. He was your regular confidant amidst the group, after all.

“Sure,” Wars agrees as he follows you a distance away from the group. He wondered what you wanted to tell him this time. Was Legend getting too snarky with you again? Was Time making your training too rough to handle? Maybe Wind played a prank on you that crossed a line? Or was it not related to them at all? Perhaps you were feeling homesick and just wanted to talk one on one or just wanted to confide in him about something personal?

“Could you just… stop?”

… Huh?

“Listen I… appreciate you for what you’re doing- truly, I do. But… you don’t have to force yourself to like me or make the others like me,” You sigh and face him with a complex expression. Displeasure was the emotion Wars could make out the clearest and it made him squirm more than he’d like to admit.

“I… what? I’m not sure I follow,” Wars replied robotically. “Could you elaborate on what you mean?”

“I think I’m being clear enough already,” You sigh again but it’s deeper this time and Wars only finds himself growing more jittery. Why? Why was that? Why was your displeasure with him suddenly so… bad? “Please, just… stop with the facade. I’d rather you dislike me, or even hate me, then be some kind of- of fake friend with me. It’s not nice.”

Wars was left gaping like a fish. Even as you grew more suspicious with his silence and eventually walked away because of it, Wars couldn’t even formulate a word. Why was this shaking him up so badly? It was an act, yes, but… was it really? Had he actually grown to like you? Perhaps he had… and Wars didn’t know how to feel about it.

The next few days were awkward, to say the least. You’d seek out help from anyone else and Wars didn’t pipe up once. The tension was not missed by his brothers, but they didn’t butt in to help. Honestly, some seemed to enjoy the fact that the spot by your side was now left open. It was a bitter pill to swallow when Wars noticed that. Why?

He fell back on his training as a knight in hopes it would help him. When wanting to learn about the target, one must observe. He gathered intel left, right, and center in hopes of quelling the rapids of unease in his chest. He asked pestered his brothers about you whenever he was one on one with them. He’d strategically place himself behind you when the group traveled so he could watch you without worry. The more he observed, the more he learned, made him only grow more confused and… yearn.

Why were you asking Twilight how to ride horses? He could teach you that! It was drilled into him when he was training to be a knight, so no need to turn to the ranch hand for help! Why were you pestering Time for stories? Wars was a captain during a time of war! He had many stories to tell you (the not so gruesome ones, of course) and they’d be just as interesting! And why were you wanting to go into town with Legend? He’s good with merchants too, y’know?!

The unease in his chest only grew each day. The rapids had turned into a tsunami and the waters grew murky with green. The snarling and biting sensation of his heart hurt- like a viper had seized it. These boiling and bubbling feelings were awful and gross and disgusting and ugly. Pay attention to me! Think of me! Come to me first! Ask for my help! Look at me! Look at me! Look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me LOOK AT ME!

As his patience was about to run dry, Hylia finally threw him a bone.

When it came to espionage, Wars was almost always the first pick. It was obvious he was the best suited for it considering he bothered to take care of himself and had formal etiquette drilled into him like a screw. Though, this event he had to sneak into was different. Why? Because it was a couple’s event and by a stroke of luck, you were his partner for the night.

Even though the outfit and make-up you were dolled up in was basic, Wars felt flabbergasted. He was so used to you being slightly grimey and dirtied up like most of the others that he never realized what all was hiding underneath that. For the first time in what felt like years, his heart was floating along on crystal clear waters. Despite this mission being supposedly high risk, Wars couldn’t help but feel relaxed as he had your hand in his nearly the whole night. Having you cling to him and coo at him, no matter how fake, had him light headed. Not even a higher power would be able to rip his gaze from you. Not like they’d be any more divine than you were.

From that night onward, Wars knew his place beside you now. While he missed being your sole confidant, he couldn’t exactly complain about his new role. A role that allowed him to be privy to every detail about you. From your routines to your clothes to your diet to your habits and even to your body. He’s lived around a castle and royalty long enough to know how to be an attendant.

He had to start small and work his way up. Given that your relationship with him was still on slightly rocky waters, he had to be patient yet again. Suggestions on what to potentially wear or little tips about hygiene were a good start in his mind. Just words, no touching- yes, that’s fine for now. Far from what he fully wants, but it’s enough to tide him over in the beginning.

And then… hmm… would you mind if he did your hair, (Name)? Nothing too fancy- just wanting to make sure it’s being taken care of and there’s a new style he thinks you might like. It’s an even mix of practical and fashionable and he’s sure you’ll like it. Hmm? Oh no no no no no! He wasn’t smelling your hair he was worshiping it, he was just getting close to get a piece of fuzz out! That’s all!

Also, what do you think about wearing this tunic with this pair of pants? He thinks the colors look well together. If it’s not your style, how about a few other outfits he came up with? Perhaps… a good ol’ green tunic to top off this pair of brown pants? Maybe maroon with something more tan colored? How about something bright like yellow? Or… oh, you’d look good in royal blue. … Oh? Why was he doing that? Well, you complained about having to pick out an outfit at times so he thought he’d help you out! Besides, he knows you trust in his style! So… is it okay if he takes care of that for you now? Okay? Okay! Great! And, uhm… do you need help getting dressed? Well, you did twist your ankle a few days ago and he wants to make sure you don’t irritate it while getting dressed. A-Are you sure? Positive? Well, okay… he’ll be right outside while you change just in case you need help please.

Ah ah ah! Don’t you give him that look! Look at your hands, do you really think you should be gripping a spoon at the moment? More than half of the soup is ending up back in the bowl and all over you, so just let him help! He’ll make sure to blow on it so that it’s not too hot, he promises. He’ll also handle getting you seconds or even thirds- yes, thirds. You need meat on your bones just as much as the rest of them and you know Wild cooks as much as he can for dinner. Just remember to open wide and say ah~.

He knows, he knows- it’s cold. Just do your best to stay still for him, will you? Can’t have your pores staying gunked up for much longer or else you could break out or even get sick. Also, your face will just feel nicer once he’s done. He’ll be careful around your eyes and lips. Actually, speaking of lips, why don’t you try out this lip balm he’s been using. No no no, don’t swat his hands- he’s just making sure to apply the right about. And… hold on, just a little more… there! Don’t your lips feel much better now? Look at how plump and pink they are now! Pretty, yes? Please just let him kiss them.

Hey! Settle down, you’ll just make your injuries worse! Yes, yes, you’re a capable adult and can wash yourself but look at you! There aren’t any potions or fairies to spare and Hyrule just knocked himself out from using too much magic! Now, please… let him help. Please, it hurts him to see you hurting like this. He won’t wash anywhere you don’t want him to and he’ll make sure to be as gentle as possible when it comes to dressing your wounds. He promises. Cross his heart and hope to die.

So, yes…

He was very content with his new role.

But don’t think this praise is one sided- oh no. He expects you to praise him back. He needs you to. If you don’t… well, he doesn’t mean to be dramatic but he’s sure his heart would stop beating.

So, please, praise him. Yes, comb your hands through his hair and admire how soft it is. No no, he doesn’t care that he just styled it- he can always style it again. Do you like it? Do you want to try out the products he’s been using? Ah, the way your fingers massage and scratch at his scalp feel lovely. Do keep going- he really doesn’t mind.

Hm? Does his voice really sound that nice? It’s nothing much, really, just his natural accent mixed with the elegancy expected from someone of his rank and title. If you like it so much… would you like to listen to him narrate a few poems he wrote? He’s been meaning to proof read them, anyways. Proof reading is easier when done aloud and with someone else there to check his work. Don’t cut back on criticism or praise- he wants to hear all of it.

Woah! No, it’s okay! It’s okay, it’s okay! You didn’t mean to barge in on him and it’s not like he’s indecent- just shirtless. But, since you’re here… would you do him a favor? He’s been checking himself out- wanting to see if his new training regiment is doing him any good. Do his biceps look bigger than before? Are his abs more defined? What do you mean he could just look in the mirror? Those things add ten pounds, you know! Just spoil him a little, wouldn’t you? He wants to hear your opinion because it’s the only one that ever matters to him anymore. No matter what he thinks of himself anymore, it’s nothing compared to how you see him. He’s all beautiful and pretty and dolled up just for you. Tell him what to change, what to do, how to act and he’ll follow every order to a T. Whatever it takes for you to hold him and touch him like he’s the embodiment of luxury. Mold the clay of his person into a masterpiece and admire the art turned life before you. Please just treasure him even a fraction of how he treasures you.

This perfect balance he had achieved with you was what made him wake up in the morning- figuratively and literally. He was there for almost every step of your daily routine now. Big or small, he had some hand in it even if you didn’t realize it. He had worked out every minute detail to the point that he’s not suffocating but he’ll never be far either. He’s good at what he does and he knows it- you make sure he does. He never gets less than five words of praise a day and if you short him- unknowingly, of course, you’re not cruel not like her- then he just has to perform at 110% the next day. So…

“The swelling and redness isn’t going down. It’s clearly poison. From what, I don’t know yet, but I intend to find out as soon as possible and have someone pay for doing this to them.”

How could he have let this happen?

You laid prone in the inn’s bed looking like you had just had your face slammed into a nest of vengeful hornets. It was swollen beyond belief and too red. Wild was silent as he slowly spooned homemade porridge into your mouth. His long and unkempt hair cascaded down his shoulders and covered his face. Wars didn’t need to look Wild in the eye to know how he silently sobbed- he was no better, after all.

“Any idea as to what happened?” Hyrule’s question draws Wars out of his stupor. He looks over at the brunette with an empty gaze. Hyrule narrows his eyes and waits with hands on hips for Wars to answer. Seconds tick by and Wars makes no sound but ultimately shakes his head.

“How… how do you not know? You’re always by their side…” Wild quietly pipes up. He’s barely turned his head and Wars can see his red rimmed eyes staring straight through him. Sadness pools in them and rage makes it seem like his tears are about to start boiling as they fall down his cheeks. Wars understood Wild’s feelings because they were his own. The wild haired man seemed ready to pin the blame on Wars and pounce so he could let out his emotion. Wars didn’t know if he’d bother to defend himself.

“I can’t think of anyone who would want to do this. We haven’t pissed off anyone in town yet nor have they,” Hyrule sighs as he returns to your side. He lets a healing spell fall from his hands to bring you some comfort. The swelling and redness doesn’t fade a bit since whatever poisoned you was actively affecting you. You barely make a sound in reaction to Hyrule’s spell or Wild continuing to feed you. Could you even speak? Did you even register that they were there or was Wars illusioning himself into believing you were even smidge bit lucid?

The door to the room bursts open and Wars doesn’t have time to snap at the intruder until he’s being slammed against the wall. Rough hands close in on his throat with a crushing grip and Wars finds himself staring into the crazed eyes of Twilight. The larger man is huffing and puffing like a raging bull and sporting his abnormally sharp teeth. For a few tense moments, Twilight does nothing more than stare down Wars. Was he debating on strangling him or tearing into his neck with his fangs? Perhaps both given that Twilight was about to blow.

“You… you… did this,” Twilight accuses as he presses Wars against the wall even harder. The accusation chills Wars to the bone as he looks over to you. He felt like this was his fault anyways but… for him to actually be the one who harmed you? How? How was that possible?! He does everything he can to support you and comfort you! He would sooner cut off his own hands than let them bring you harm! So how… how could he… what did he…

Something is slapped against his face and he suddenly finds it hard to breathe. As he coughs and sneezes, powder comes out. He swipes at his face to wipe off whatever Twilight had slapped onto him but it only seems to spread it more. A wet and cold towel is scrubbed against his skin as Hyrule jumps into action to save Wars from what is likely the supposed “poison”.

“Enough!” Hyrule yells as he stops cleaning Wars’ face. He looks over at Twilight with rage that had finally boiled over. “What the hell are you doing, Twilight?! What good are you trying to achieve by poisoning one of us?! Especially with (Name) in the room?!”

“It’s his fault!” Twilight snaps back. He picks up a round, blue container from the ground and nearly shoves it back in Wars’ face. Wars’ eye nearly fall out of their sockets when he recognizes what it is. “He bought this the other night and put it on their face this morning. When I was looking through (Name)’s belongings to find what may have poisoned them, the stench of this powder caught my attention. I don’t know what it is but it smelled rancid.”

“Foundation…” Wars croaks out as he stares at the container and the powder on himself. “It… it was supposed to be foundation. I bought it the other night from a cosmetic merchant. I looked through their wares and- and all of it seemed well made and luxurious. I-It was supposed to be a gift and… and they loved it. I put it on their face this morning and it went on so nicely and they looked so lovely and… and… and then…”

Wars sinks to the floor with a choked sob. He shakes and crawls over to your bedside with his eyes trained on your poor face the whole time. He can see you try to look over at him past the swollen lids of your eyes but he doubts you can see much at all. He wants to reach out to you and comfort you through the pain. To caress your face and whisper sweet words. To pepper gentle kisses across your skin while he murmurs out his adoration but he can’t. He’s tainted by the very thing that harms you now. He bought and handed you the very poison that swells and reds your skin. He recalls how you trusted him- like you always do- when he applied your make up this morning. And now look at you- look at what he’s done to you.

He’s pulled away from you by the collar of his shirt and nearly dragged out of the room. Twilight forces him to his feet and looks him dead in the eye. Although he’s had his outburst, his eyes are still simmering with anger. Wars can hear heavy footsteps echo behind him before Time comes into view. He looks over Twilight’s shoulder and gives Wars his own stoney scowl with both eyes open perhaps a sign to Wars that he was also angry about what happened.

“Legend is currently isolating the offender away from the town. You are to meet him at the appointed place and take over from there. The poor bastard’s fate is going to be in your hands and when I come to check in on you within three hours, I better find that you’ve dealt him due punishment. I’ll let your imagination run wild with the possibilities of what will be done to you should you not meet my expectations. Understood?” Time tsked. His look and tone made it clear that this order might as well be regarded as law.

“Yes sir,” Warriors nodded. He straightened up and dusted himself up. Slowly, training was taking over him and seeping into every fiber of his being as he marched out of the building. He carried himself with purpose as he walked to where Legend was supposedly waiting for him. Crowds parted to let the man through as it was clear he was on a mission and the malice that seeped off of him was enough to make even the guards look the other way.

The well paved roads of the town quickly turned into nothing more than well trodded dirt pebbled with rocks and gravel. After more walking, moss and more overgrowth overtook the ground. Wars had to give it to the Veteran- he was good when it came to preparation. He had likely dragged the man off to a secluded area far enough away from town that no one could hear any screams. He also imagined that the Vet had picked out a secluded area that would be hard to see and get to.

“Fucking finally…” came the tired groan of a bored Legend as he emerged from the tree line. He may have put on a good poker face of being nothing more than annoyed, but Wars could easily see through it. Eyes were the window to the soul, after all, and Legend was positively burning. “I’ve gotten tired of listening to the bastard whimper and cry. Be lucky that I had the patience and benevolence to save him for you.”

“I’m more surprised than anything, Legend. The fact that you’re not jumping at me and trying to tear me a new one is a little… off putting,” Wars huffed. Legend only grins at the man and approaches him with a saunter. He claps a hand onto Wars’ shoulder and leers up at the captain.

“Oh, I wanted to and I still very much want to right now. But, then, I got to thinking about how you’re now here and not beside them like some sort of dog on a leash. Hyrule trusts me greatly so there’s no doubt in my mind that I can be at their side for hours on end without interruption. Given what you did to them- and I do plan to tell them everything- they’ll surely appreciate me being there instead of you, don’tcha think? I always thought I looked better beside them than you ever did. After today, I’m sure they’ll agree,” Legend provokes as he smiles snarls at Wars. It takes every shred of willpower Wars can spare to not deck Legend in the face right then and there. Legend obviously notices the barely masked rage and laughs. He gives Wars a pat on the back and struts off while whistling.

Wars stalks down the slope Legend had come from before dropping down a small ledge. His boots squelched as they sunk into the thick moss of the cave floor. In the very back, illuminated by a few lanterns, sat the perp. He was bound up to a wooden chair thanks to thick strands of rope and chains. He was gagged but not blindfolded. His gaze met Wars and, for a fraction of a second, he seemed relieved- as if he expected Wars to be his savior. Naturally, these delusions were dismissed the moment the bound man caught a glimpse of Wars’ ice cold scowl and clear look of intent.

Instead of immediately lashing out at the merchant, Wars observes what tools he’s been left to work with: A pair of shears, some rusty knives, a bottle of green and viscous liquid, and a few rods of metal. Of course Legend wouldn’t leave him with anything good. The thing that Wars seemed to have the most hope in was that bottle of liquid but that could be saved for later. Save the best for last and all that…

“What shall I start with first? Something small, of course, but nonetheless painful. Can’t have you dying too soon, can we?” Wars sighed in annoyance as he combed a hand through his hair. After some contemplation, he picked up the pair of shears and directed them to the merchants hands. “Let’s get rid of those pesky fingers, shall we? I think that would be a lovely place to start.”

With anger fueling him and well defined muscle lining his arms, chopping through each finger didn’t require much more effort than chopping carrots did. It sounded rather similar to it too, just with a bit more snap. Wars took his time too- bothering to get the bladed edges of the shears comfortable against each joint before he slammed a hand down on the handle. Despite his control and technique, the process still went by too quickly for Wars.

Putting the shears to the side for the moment, Wars armed himself with one of the rusted over knifes. The blade was so dull that it likely couldn’t even cut butter but Wars would make it work. He brought the knife to the man’s arm and began to cut against it with a sawing motion. It took a few back and forth motions for the skin to finally give in but Wars stopped the second that happened. He moved the blade over by a hairs length and began again. With each cut made, he would move the blade over and begin to slice again.

Were Wars a naturally more savage man, he would have caved into his rage and pummeled the sinner into broken bones and gore the second he was left along with him. It sounded tempting, he wouldn’t lie, but this felt much better to him. The slow increase of pain and letting the man before him hang on a thread for however long he allowed was much more soothing to him. Death by a thousand cuts would take awhile but awhile was something Wars didn’t exactly have and it would be too lenient in Time’s eyes.

Wars’ next pick were the metal rods. He grabbed the heaviest and thickest of them all and tested the weight of it in his hand. Once he had a sure grip, he wasted no time in introducing it to the merchant’s knees. Over and over and over and over and over again did Wars slam the makeshift weapon into the sinner’s kneecaps. Only once he heard and felt each knee pop and crack below his blows did Wars move on. In a single, powerful strike, Wars hit the man across the face with the rod and broke his nose.

The damage he’s done so far was good but not enough. The man was barely lucid anymore- overwhelmed by pain and bloodloss. The idea of removing his gag and listening to him plead for a few minutes was now out of the question. Were Wars not so limited on tools and too clouded by emotion, he was sure he could do a lot more.

Arming himself with the knives once again, Wars finally began to stab him. It wasn’t relentless and wild, but calculated. He wanted each stab wound to not be overlapped by another so he could count each one at the end of this all. Given the poor state of his equipment, the knives were quick to bend after about ten stabs each. Once the blade of each knife had bent, Wars turned back to his trusty shears to continue the job. He made sure no inch of skin was left untouched by his rage. Even once he felt like he had gotten to each part of the man possible, he untied him from the chair and flopped him down onto the ground to get to his back. He was long since dead by now, but that wasn’t going to stop Wars.

The minutes trickled on by as Wars continued his work. He grew sweaty and his arms ached but he refused to rest. With his hands slick from blood and sweat, his palms sliced across the blade of his shears more than once as the metal refused to stay steady in his grip. It stung but it was a welcome sting- it brought him away from the monotony of his actions.

“I see you’ve done well to keep yourself busy,” Time’s voice muses and it jolts Wars away from his actions. He stands up and greets the older man with a curt nod before stepping away from the body. He lets Time get a good look at the corpse and hopes that it’s up to the man’s liking. Time also looks at the bloody and/ or broken tools Wars had used. He merely hummed and picked up the bottle that Wars had forgotten about.

“How are they?” Wars asks as he discards his shears.

“Better. Their face isn’t fully red and swollen anymore, but it’s patchy and sensitive. A welcome improvement but still a sight none of us like to see,” Time replies. He uncorks the glass bottle and tips it over. The thick liquids falls out in blobs and seeps into the open wounds of the corpse. It takes Wars a moment to realize that it wasn’t some sort of acid like he had originally suspected. Instead, it was a juvenile chu chu. Good thing Wars didn’t use it or else he’d have nothing to show Time.

“That’s good to hear. Any idea when they’ll be fully recovered?” Wars inquires further.

“They should be mostly healed up in about two days, but Hyrule recommended to not have them wear anything on their face for about a week,” Time answers as he discards the bottle. He glares down once more at the body before looking back up at Wars and gives him a curt nod. “Not bad for what you had. It’ll do.”

With Time’s approval, Wars lets his shoulders sag and a breath of relief leaves him. He follows the older hero out of the cave and away from the scene. Wars tears off a few strips of cloth from his shirt to cover his bleeding hands as a makeshift bandage. He’d heal them up once back with the rest of the group. He’d also have to remember to get a change of clothes as his were very wet and very red.

He paid minimal attention to his brothers when he returned back to the inn. He fell back onto his routine to get cleaned up. He rushed at certain parts when he remembered that you were nearby and potentially hopefully waiting for him. Once he had triple checked himself and made sure no blood or poison still clung to him, he snuck over to your room. Realistically, you’d be sleeping but even getting a glimpse of your relaxed face would be far better than the pain you were in earlier.

“Warriors?” Oh… you were up.

With the face of a man caught red handed, Wars stopped trying to sneak into the room. He was still quiet as not to disrupt the peaceful air nor to alert his brothers that currently laid sleeping rooms over.

“Yes?” Wars whispered as he sat down on the chair at you bedside. It held some residual warmth, so whoever had accompanied you earlier hadn’t been gone long. If Wars had to guess, he would be all in on it being Legend.

“Where have you been? I vaguely remember you and Hyrule and… Twilight, I think? Getting into an argument earlier. I think I feel asleep and then woke up with Legend beside me…” You recount. Wars feels his heart drop to chest despite having the Vet tell him what he planned on doing.

“I’m sorry,” Wars apologies quietly as his shaking hands reach out to grab your own. He pulls them in close and presses a gentle kiss to both knuckles and palms. “I’m- I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t apologize,” You sigh and Wars shakes his head. No, no you couldn’t forgive him for this. He hurt you- he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. But, then… that wouldn’t exactly be you then, would it? You always forgave them for what they did, whether or not you knew the full extent of it. You always forgave them and never stopped loving them which only made Wars’ heart clench and hurt more in the moment. Even with your face starting to look like you once again, he could still make out the residual damage done.

A hand cards its ways through Wars’ hair and massages the back of his neck. With a small grunt, Wars leans over and rests his head against your chest. He believed you should sooner be slapping him than caressing him, but he wasn’t going to argue. You were stubborn as a mule and who was he to go against your word and decisions?

“It’s okay, Link. You didn’t mean for this to happen so don’t go blaming yourself,” You coo as you continue to love on him. Hearing his name fall from your lips never failed to make him shiver and feel so vulnerable. It was such a wonderful and liberating feeling- to be the apple in your eye. Although he felt rotten and worm infested to the core, you still held him and admired him like he was ruby red and ripe from the tree. To be loved for both his pretty and ugly sides meant more to him than he could ever convey. He just hoped that, in all the he did, you would have an inkling of an idea of this.

“Look at me?”

The order was so tender and mild that he felt like it was sooner addressed to a babe and not him. Nonetheless, Wars didn’t hesitate to lift his head up and look at you. In the depths of your pupils could he see his reflection. His hair was unkempt and ruffled up by you hands. His thick lashes were misted by tears and his ocean blue eyes wobbled as he held your gaze. His skin was clean and cleared of any concealer so every pore and flaw were visible. Even in this state, he watched your eyes soften and crinkle into something so warm and sweet that made him feel like this was his most stunning moments yet.

“My pretty boy…” You whispered as you held his head his heart, his soul, his very ambition and will to live in your hand.

“Yes…” Wars croaked as he nuzzled against the silky skin of your palm. It was in these tender moments did Wars finally understand what salvation meant. “Your pretty boy… pretty just for you.”

[weldingmetal]

Organicfacer

So we call ourselves monsterfucker and robotfucker and what not but how would this happen if transformers were real?

So I wrote this little blurb. This could be for any continuity I think. Send me requests and I’ll see what I can do. Also tell me if ya want to be tagged.

this was inspired by @robot-horde

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So the Cybertronian and human relations were going as well as they could.

Although there were some protests from humans and a few problems here and there everything went as well as it could. It was recently released that Cybertronians could freely explore earth and whatnot if they did not cause destruction…however there was something the government failed to mention and the bots under all circumstances didn’t expect.

Humans will try to fuck anything that they can.

This led to very…. Interesting revelations. No one knows exactly the bot and human that started everything although many have their money on Hot Rod.

Whoever it was it happened like this. A lonely human sick of their species decided to take a chance and a bots curiosity was burning bright which led to the human confirming that they were a robot fucker and the bot realizing that he could probably never fully go back to hard metal digits.

Thus the term “Organicfragger/organicfacer” was coined on one of the many Cybertronian group chats.

Apparently with the widespread public discovery that the two species genitalia was compatible came many expected and unexpected events.

A human/bot relationship flag

Sites dedicated to Human/bot erotica

Cheesy inaccurate romance novels by Cybertronian and humans alike

Facebooks moms complaining only to do a 180 and always be looking for a bot s/o

Men being mad that femme bots don’t want them.

Memes

TV shows

Cybertronians and humans who only date each other for clout.

The car washing businesses skyrocketing.

So in other words it would be nothing short of sexy chaos