Accidentally went to the OKCupid website yesterday. I realized my mistake too late. Now, because it looks like I actually was active on the site recently, I’m getting messages - not the occasional one that I sometimes get, but a few in the last twelve hours. I guess I should be happy about that. It means guys think I’m interesting or attractive or something, right? I may be doing this online dating thing wrong. But really, if I don’t trust guys, I *really* don’t trust guys on OKC.
I will say, a couple of them seemed interesting. I should give them a chance. But another message started with “Dear lady.” HAHA NOPE.
crimsonclad asked: My favorite fic cliche involving robot worlds: one where a dude thinks he is in love with a sex robot, but then that sex robot turns out to be a human person who can't figure out how to work "I am not a sex robot but I would love for us to continue boning" into the conversation. So basically it would be amazing for Derek to think that Stiles is this new model of sex robot that hits all his kinks, and he feels HORRIBLE for falling in love with him but he CAN'T GIVE HIM UP. MISUNDERSTANDINGSSSS!
GREAT. SUPER. THANKS FOR THROWING THIS PLOT TWIST IN. WONDERFUL. NOW I HAVE TO THINK ABOUT DEREK’S TORTURED INNER MONOLOGUE AS HE GAZES UPON STILES’S BEAUTY.
Does Derek actually try to HIRE Stiles the not-actually-a-sexbot? Or is it like, Stiles is in the wrong place at the wrong time and Derek sees him, and knows FULL WELL he should detain Stiles properly, should turn him over with all the other human-skinned sexbots they’re picking up in the raid but something makes him shove Stiles into the shadows, makes him hiss “You should run. No one’s covering the side door. Get somewhere else, quick,” because he knows what happens to sexbots when their owners get arrested, and he doesn’t want that for this kid with the pretty eyes, the wide, clever mouth. It’s not his fault some creep created him in a lab under NEFARIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES.
And maybe Stiles is a runaway or something, or just blinded by Derek’s cheekbones or WHATEVER PLOT REASON you need for him to just stand there, staring dumbly at Derek. And Derek slaps his own face because of course, where is a sexbot going to go? It’s not like they have their own LIVES. So he throws Stiles his keys, orders him to go sit in Derek’s car and keep his head down until Derek’s back and Stiles does for PLOT OR WHATEVER.
And then because Derek doesn’t think things through, now he’s responsible for a fugitive sexbot with STOLEN MURDER SKIN and he’s harboring Stiles in his apartment until he figures out what to do. He kind of thought Stiles might just sit there, like, he hadn’t really considered that Stiles might need entertainment, that Stiles might talk back, might have opinions on TV shows and bicker with him over the last pot sticker, and Derek stands in the cold shower like, DAILY, trying to will down the giant inappropriate boner he has for a SEXBOT who can NEVER LOVE HIM and will probably land him in JAIL at some point.
Meanwhile, Stiles is like, running around, trying to hide his bodily functions and whispering into his hidden cell phone to Scott about this GUY he’s living with and how badly he wants to sit on his dick but he CAN’T until he fesses up to this entire protracted situation. Derek doesn’t even like him that much, really. Stiles is just a charity case to him, probably. UGH.
Another excellent possibility is that Stiles is some sort of futuristic census worker, or he’s lost in the building looking for a party Scott invited him to but sent him the wrong address, but THE POINT IS Stiles is wandering the halls of Derek’s apartment building (his FUTURISTIC apartment building, so, you know, glowy things all around or whatever) knocking on doors trying to figure out where the hell Unit 83746TCS55 is in this place.
TWIST: this happens to be the one night every six months Derek has allowed himself to order in a sexbot! And he hates himself for it, but he hates it SLIIIIIGHTLY less than picking up a human at a bar. Also, if you start having a panic attack during sex, sex robots don’t make fun of you! And when you tell them to stop, they have to, because of programming. Humans aren’t quite so reliable in that area, Derek has found.
So Stiles knocks on the door, and Derek opens it, and says “you’re early,” and Stiles is like “ummmmm, Scott said 9:30?” and it is 9:45, so he’s not sure what this super hot dude is talking about. But Derek is looking him up and down, and if Derek had known sexbots came in this model, he wouldn’t have been ordering the other ones. He should read through the online catalog more thoroughly, maybe. So he tells Stiles to come in, and Stiles does, because he guesses he found the right apartment!
And Derek skips the pleasantries, because Stiles is a sexbot. Skipping the pleasantries is the whole point. And Stiles would say something, but the hottest guy he’s ever seen is ravishing him, and hey: better than a stupid party hosted by Scott’s electro-pathology classmates!
Then: they DO IT. YOU KNOW.
But then Derek says something about liking his programming, and maybe next time he could code in more kissing, and Stiles realizes with a sinking heart that the dude he’s now 73% in love with thinks he’s a damn SEXBOT, and Stiles can’t quite figure out how to explain that he’s just a human who got lost in the building. And also Derek asks him to come back next week, and, well. Stiles really really wants to. Maybe he can just…explain next time.
Anyway, lots more pining and confusion, Derek being filled with self-loathing because he’s in love with a robot, Stiles being filled with self-loathing because he REALLY LIKES BEING A PRETEND SEXBOT, but also he needs to come clean. Eventually Derek gets an email from the sexbot service asking him why he hasn’t requested their services in the past four months, and a few big emotional scenes later they are in love the end.
(oh oh also after the sex Derek tells Stiles things he would never tell a HUMAN, because there’s a special memory clear code or whatever, so after sex Stiles cards his fingers through Derek’s hair while he talks about his horrible life of tragedy and pain, and when Derek tells him to delete it Stiles knows to say “file deleted” (that feature is mentioned in sexbot commercials) but it isn’t deleted. IT IS IN HIS HEART. YOU CANNOT DELETE THINGS FROM YOUR HEART.)
you cannot delete things from your heart
I HAVE NOMINATED BOTH OF THESE FOR THE PRESTIGIOUS FUTURE SEXBOT DEREK-HALE GARBAGE-WEREWOLF AWARD BUT I was thinking actually that maybe Stiles is an undercover cop investigating illegal human skin sexbot trade and also maybe—WAIT, it is an internal affairs investigation, the point is, he has a legitimate reason to lie to Derek Hale and tell him, sure, he’s a sexbot, one of the older models, though—because they’re investigating a CRIMINAL KINGPIN and Derek, for some reason, fits the profile (nephew of notorious drug kingpin Peter Hale, now in prison, lots of ready cash, no discernible job, etc. etc.) and it’s the only way to get in the door—
because you know Stiles is the rogue cop who’ll do anything for a collar, always disobeying direct orders and having his (holographic future) badge and (future) gun taken away and then given back to him when his hunch turns out to be right and he drives a (hover) car through a window to catch the guy—
MY POINT IS, he goes home with Derek Hale and fucks him and takes his credit chip—
—okay, wait, if what he needs is access to Derek’s credit account, this makes possibly more sense—
and he tells Scott, it’s just the once, he’d fuck the guy for free, come on, it’s the break they need, and Scott is like “fine, you’re crazy, but whatever you say—” because in the future it’s obviously not actually illegal for the cops to pretend to be a sexbot and do you to get access to your credit chip, but the problem is, it turns out it’s not Derek at all.
[This would be the part of the story where they figure out who the real kingpin is and arrest him and let’s all go to the place where Stiles’ forearms flex as he tightens (future) handcuffs around someone’s wrists, face grim and tired from late nights, cut on his cheek, etc. etc.]
The problem is, Derek pings him a couple weeks later and asks if he has any available bookings. Whenever is fine.
And Stiles knows he should obviously just drop off the face of the earth and never contact Derek again; the investigation is closed, he got what he needed, no one got hurt. He’s going to delete the message, but then he—doesn’t. He offers Derek an appointment. And after that appointment, when Derek asks if Stiles has room in his schedule for a regular appointment, Stiles hesitates, and Derek says quickly that he can pay in advance, and Stiles says, no, it’s just that, um. uh. and Derek says, it’s fine, don’t worry about it, and Stiles just—can’t say no to him.
They fuck a lot, but they also just—talk, or go running (Derek thinks the subroutine where Stiles gets out of breath and says “Go on without me!” is funny.) or get takeout (Stiles tells Derek that he was retrofitted to convert food to energy) and Stiles knows it’s all going to blow up in his face and Derek will hate him, but it’s—
Stiles has had a string of bad relationships and lousy breakups, most of which were his fault, for not being around enough or not being able to talk about what was bothering him, and Derek just—doesn’t expect anything from him, really, and the sex is great, and after a while Stiles figures Derek HAS to know, he’s not even really trying to hide it anymore, but Derek doesn’t know, because he grew up on a tech-separatist farm and never even saw a machine that wasn’t an apple-corer until he was sixteen or seventeen, and swallows every half-hearted lie Stiles tells him.
Derek probably ends up seeing Stiles at some terrible high society charity ball that he has to go to because of his family, and Stiles is there, working security, wearing a gun holster (IMPORTANT) and polite, professional, observant, so obviously not a sexbot that Derek feels like an idiot for not figuring it out sooner, and goes home and deletes the appointments from his calendar.
I mean, OBVIOUSLY they work it out, because Derek feels angry but also weirdly relieved that he just turned out to be a pathetic joke, and not a pervert who fell in love with a sex robot, and probably Scott pulls Derek over for having a broken headlight, he’s like “oh, it’s you,” and Derek braces himself to be made fun of, but Scott just leans on the window of his (future) car and scratches his ear, and says, look, Stiles is a jackass.
"He is not," Derek says, forgetting that he hates Stiles, and Scott says,
"yeah, he pretty much is, but he’s torn up about you."
Derek says bitterly that he figured Stiles would be having a good laugh about it with all his cop buddies, and Scott says nope, Stiles never told anyone about you.
and probably they get together when Stiles comes by with a manual credit chip because he’s been trying to get Derek’s account to take back the money remotely but of course Derek blocked Stiles’ account entirely, and Stiles is subdued and embarrassed and just wants to give the money back and get out of there, and Derek says, why, he earned it, just keep it, and Stiles’ cheeks go bright red, and he says, no, he didn’t—earn anything, he didn’t do anything he didn’t want to do, he probably should have been paying Derek, thanks for—you know, spending time with him. Being funny.
And Derek SEES suddenly that he knows Stiles, that he’s come to know him, and sees for the first time Stiles’ desperate loneliness and how tired he’s been, and he just—opens the door, and says come in, he just ordered too much takeout anyway.
ALSO SUPER GENIUS!!!!!! Especially because I like to think Scott McCall would like nothing better than to be the dude who helps humans, werewolves, AND sexbots live and love happily together! He would EAGERLY reach out to the former-suspect-son-of-a-kingpin-dude-who-used-Stiles-as-a-sexbot and try to help heal his broken heart!
ONE OTHER IMPORTANT OPTION: So, Stiles is in grad school but it doesn’t pay the bills, so he gets a job at one of the sexbot rental stores. You know, he runs the register, plugs in units when they’re almost out of power, helps them into the cleaning unit when they get back from a job, whatever. He doesn’t judge! People get lonely, the sexbots are charming if a little dim, and he gets a lot of his reading done during his shifts.
MEANWHILE, ELSEWHERE IN THE FUTURE: Derek, as in every universe, is Mr. Lonelyhearts Grimface, and his buddy Erica got him a free rental from the sexbot place as a JOKE. Derek has would like to be the sort of person (wereperson) who either rips up the gift certificate OR rents a sexbot, takes it on hilarious adventures and sends pictures of those adventures to Erica to punish her for interfering, BUT, he just figures: why not. Why not just check it out. He probably won’t see a model he likes, so he’ll look around and make a face at what people find sexy and then re-gift the thing to Peter. Peter’s gross, and he’ll probably love it. But what the hell, Derek is mildly curious, so he decides to stop at one of the franchise branches on his way home from work.
Stiles is on his break while Lydia runs the register for awhile, so he’s just leaning against the wall, trying to figure out how he’s going to convince Professor Carlisle to give him an extension on the midterm lab report, and he’s propped against the wall, a semi-vacant expression on his face, his mouth hanging open. YOU KNOW. THE WAY IT DOES.
And Derek walks in, ready to be grossed out and horrified, and he sees Stiles. And before he knows what he’s doing, he walks up to the counter and says “um, him. That model.” He doesn’t see the look of confusion-turning-into-amusement on Lydia’s face, because he’s still staring at the sexbot. He can’t believe he never knew they made sexbots that look like that.
"Oh, our Stiles model?" Lydia says, raising her voice to help clue Stiles in to what is happening. "You want to rent him for the night?"
And Stiles looks up, ready to be offended, but he’s SDHSFHS*~^&$^TGDHOIADJHAR%$%^*t&*fysh (he is not actually a robot with a crashing hard drive, but that is an approximation of what his brain thinks when he looks up and sees Derek looking at him, his scruffy cheeks pinking up, his breath going shallow).
Lydia rolls her eyes, but doesn’t say anything as she “rings him up,” (she is a VERY GOOD FRIEND), and he goes home with Derek and, well, you know. This is the one part of every sexbot story that is basically the same. Bathing suit areas galore. Derek marvelling at the advanced polymers that make the skin seem so real. Stiles sweats like he’s human, he bruises beneath Derek’s teeth like he’s human. Tears leak from the corners of his eyes when Derek fucks him gently…like he’s human.
SCIENCE: Derek thinks it is amazing.
The next morning, Derek is kind of surprised to see Stiles still there, in sleep mode, but he doesn’t get a chance to ask about it because his doorbell rings, and whoops, surprise visit from Cora and Laura, and Derek is so not prepared to admit to them that he has brought a sexbot back to his apartment, and he looks in panic at his closed bedroom door, because a sexbot probably isn’t programmed to handle this kind of situation, right? Just because it was programmed to rim Derek into babbling hysterics doesn’t mean it knows how to handle awkward family interactions.
But Stiles walks out fully dressed, drops the vacant sexbot act (tip for the audience: he mostly dropped it as soon as he got his hands on Derek), and he’s goofy and charming and whips up some crêpes and asks Cora about her knitting and listens to Laura talk about her work in the pediatric ward, and when it becomes clear that Derek’s sisters are staying for the day he excuses himself. Behind he leaves Derek, very confused about the advanced circuitry in THAT one.
I’m not sure how the big reveal works best with this one— maybe Derek goes back and tries to rent the Stiles model again, but that bot is always mysteriously rented out already, because Stiles is hiding in the back, hoping Lydia will have his back just ONE MORE TIME, because he feels like Derek will hate him forever if he knows the truth, and he likes the guy.
idk, maybe he runs into Cora on campus when they’re both nominated for prestigious graduate fellowships or something, and some wacky Hale matchmaking and “I’M A REAL BOY, DEREK” incidents later it is all worked out.
Someone reblogged this post with “this fic prompt battle is getting FIERCE” and that was before me and Helenish just got SPANKED by Crimsonclad’s new addition. NO ONE HAS ANY EXCUSE FOR WHY THEY AREN’T WRITING SEXBOTS. NONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I REJECT THIS TERMINOLOGY. Is it a battle when you’re halfway through a bottle of red wine and someone says “oh shit, I forgot,” and drags a bottle of champagne out of the back of her fridge? Is it a fight when the other person says, “hey, also, I made some brownies, too. The recipe called for canola oil but I used two sticks of butter and three quarters of a bag of chocolate chips.”?
I CALL IT A PARTY.
Mr. Lonelyhearts Grimface