#General Gardening Sydney

[reasonsforhope]

"As solar panels heat up beyond 25°C, their efficiency decreases markedly. Green roofs moderate rooftop temperatures. So we wanted to find out: could green roofs help with the problem of heat reducing the output of solar panels?

Our research compared a “biosolar” green roof — one that combines a solar system with a green roof — and a comparable conventional roof with an equivalent solar system. We measured the impacts on biodiversity and solar output, as well as how the plants coped with having panels installed above them.

The green roof supported much more biodiversity, as one might expect. By reducing average maximum temperatures by about 8°C, it increased solar generation by as much as 107% during peak periods. And while some plant species outperformed others, the vegetation flourished.

These results show we don’t have to choose between a green roof or a solar roof: we can combine the two and reap double the rewards...

How did the panels affect the plants?

In the open areas, we observed minimal changes in the vegetation cover over the study period compared to the initial planted community.

Plant growth was fastest and healthiest in the areas immediately around the solar panels. Several species doubled in coverage. We selected fast-growing vegetation for this section to achieve full coverage of the green roof beds as soon as possible.

The vegetation changed the most in the areas directly below and surrounding the solar panels. The Baby Sun Rose, Aptenia cordifolia, emerged as the dominant plant. It occupied most of the space beneath and surrounding the solar panels, despite having been planted in relatively low densities.

This was surprising: it was not expected the plants would prefer the shaded areas under the panels to the open areas. This shows that shading by solar panels will not prevent the growth of full and healthy roof gardens.

What were the biodiversity impacts?

We used environmental DNA (eDNA) surveys to compare biodiversity on the green roof and conventional roof. Water run-off samples were collected from both roofs and processed on site using portable citizen scientist eDNA sampling equipment to detect traces of DNA shed by the species on the roof.

The eDNA surveys detected a diverse range of species. These included some species (such as algae and fungi) that are not easily detected using other survey methods. The results confirmed the presence of bird species recorded by the cameras but also showed other visiting bird species went undetected by the cameras.

Overall, the green roof supported four times as many species of birds, over seven times as many arthropods such as insects, spiders and millipedes, and twice as many snail and slug species as the conventional roof. There was many times the diversity of microorganisms such as algae and fungi.

Encouragingly, the green roof attracted species unexpected in the city. They included blue-banded bees (Amegilla cingulata) and metallic shield bugs (Scutiphora pedicellata).

How did the green roof alter temperatures?

The green roof reduced surface temperatures by up to 9.63°C for the solar panels and 6.93°C for the roof surfaces. An 8°C reduction in average peak temperature on the green roof would result in substantial heating and cooling energy savings inside the building.

This lowering of temperatures increased the maximum output of the solar panels by 21-107%, depending on the month. Performance modelling indicates an extensive green roof in central Sydney can, on average, produce 4.5% more electricity at any given light level.

These results show we don’t have to choose between a green roof or a solar roof. We can combine them to take advantage of the many benefits of biosolar green roofs.

Biosolar roofs can help get cities to net zero

The next step is to design green roofs and their plantings specifically to enhance biodiversity. Green roofs and other green infrastructure may alter urban wildlife’s activities and could eventually attract non-urban species.

Our green roof also decreased stormwater runoff, removed a range of run-off pollutants and insulated the building from extremes of temperature. A relatively inexpensive system provides all of these services with moderate maintenance and, best of all, zero energy inputs.

Clearly, biosolar green roofs could make major contributions to net-zero cities. And all that’s needed is space that currently has no other use."

-via GoodGoodGood, May 12, 2024

[asha-mage]

"Sid Meier's Civilization is actually about a group of immortal god kings condemned to forever struggle against each other in a never ending cosmic game in which their empires and nations are but pawns" gets brought up as a funny 'ha ha' joke about Civ, but the thing is that is the most supported reading of the game's mechanics, writing, art direction, and even trailers.

But what's really funny is that each new installment leans harder into this idea then the last. With Civ 7 making it so that leaders aren't even tied down to their 'historic' civilizations (meaning you can't even argue the 'national personification' thing anymore) and since Civs can change while leaders can't, that means that leaders are also the only constant across an entire campaign.

This means, for example, in the universe of Civilization, the likes of Gaius Octavius, Hatshepsut, Napoleon, and even Gandhi are constantly reborn, take up leadership of a small singular village, live for uncountable eons (unless slain by another Leader or dethroned), rebuild the same nation, people, empire over and over and over again with only slight variations, until one achieves victory over the others (be it by sending their people into the stars, building a society that culturally subsumes all others, conquering the world, or otherwise somehow 'winning history' by the metrics they held dear in their mortal lives) and gains...nothing as far as we know.

We don't know if they wither to dust instantly Gothel style, or reign until the heat death of the universe, or begin aging and live out a mortal life for however long remains to them. All we know for certain is that they are right back there again at the stone age as soon as the next game starts, becoming chiefs of a tribe of thatched roved houses on some unrecognizable landmass, with nothing to do but start all lover again from scratch. Build the same walls and monuments and wonders, fight the same endlessly shifting battles against the same rivals. Maybe this time Rome is stamped out in antiquity, and maybe this time is launches the first space colony. Maybe Egypt raises up the pyramids once more, and maybe they raise up the Colossus, or the Hanging Gardens, or Statue of Liberty, or the Sydney Opera House. Maybe Napoleon's France finally achieves perfect ideal democracy, or maybe his warring ways lead a coalition of Japan, China, the Gauls, and Sumerians facing off against him all over again. Maybe Gandhi decides mutually assured destruction is the only way to protect world peace. The names change, the lands and continents change, the ages change, eventually even the civilizations themselves change- Gaius finds himself the Emperor of Egypt and Hatsheput the Queen of the United States of America- but the only thing that doesn't change is the leaders. Their configurations vary and sometimes they face off against a newcomer they haven't before, but always it ultimately comes back to a group of immortal rulers- the great and the good, the wicked and the genius, the mad and the unlikely, and the just plain lucky that one and all ended up in the history books- who keep trying to take one more swing, one more run, one more turn at fulling the ambitions of their mortal life, and leading their people to glory.

Because the only way to break the cycle, to the end the game (both in universe and out) is to stop playing. Give up. Stop pushing that glowing little arrow button. Stop following the ambitions, the ideals, the dreams, the hopes that lead them here in the first place.

But just like Civ players and just like humans in general, they never do.

[nolita-fairytale]

Carmy as Your Baby Daddy | Social Media AU & Headcanon Series | part three

part two | masterlist | part four me and @carmensberzattos are back again with more carmy as your baby daddy thots. no fr, this is pretty much just a leaked and edited version of our dms. telling people & your second trimester. #teambreaktheinternet

telling everyone at the bear is the most heartwarming and fluffy thing. tina absolutely knew the whole time. "i knew it!" she brags smugly. "what do you mean you knew?!" you exclaim while carmy looks perplexed. "just a feeling," she shrugs in her most 'i'm always right' tone of voice. "food poisoning, my ass."

richie's reaction is unexpected. while you think he'll say something snarky or crass, he has a much more emotional reaction. he gets quiet for a long time, and neither you nor carmy are going to say anything about the tears welling in his eyes. it's not till later, as you're getting ready to go, that he pulls you aside. "thank you for changing his life," he says, and you think it's the most genuine you've ever seen him.

the second restaurant, sydney's restaurant, is open and up-and-running, so you have to make your way there next. while carmy is working that night, you head over to the new restaurant with a cake you made that says 'best auntie ever.' it takes her a minute to realize that you're telling her that you're pregnant, and she practically stops any pre-shift duties as she tackles you in a hug while yelling: "we're having a baby!? we're having a baby!!!"

telling sugar and pete goes exactly as expected. sugar is so excited that their baby boy will have a cousin close in age to grow up with. "don't cry, pete," you all groan. (@carmensberzattos and I have a headcanon about this headcanon that sugar had a boy and named him michael 😭 and of course she asked carmy if it was ok before staking claim over the name).

while your first trimester is ROUGH, the fog begins to clear as you enter your second trimester. as your hormones change, the morning sickness is quickly replaced by a high sex drive and carmy can't get enough. it's everything: your hair is thicker, the pregnancy boobs are incredible, there's a glow about you and you just can't keep your hands off of him. the fact that he knows that you're carrying his child drives him absolutely wild. he is more than happy to help out when you're begging him to fuck you morning, noon, and night.

however, carmy gets all kinds of flustered when anyone else but you catches wind of how much sex you've been having. one day he shows up late to the restaurant and richie is laughing his ass of. "what's up?" "nothin'. just that you're late because you're gettin' some, cousin." and carmy is blushing beet red all the way down to his toes as richie shakes his head and says, "men can never resist a pregnant woman, cousin. tiff was the same way."

he comes home and grumbles about the long day he's had since richie's been so unprofessional all damn day. "so he knows you're gettin' some. what's the big deal, bear?" you ask him. "the big deal is... richie doesn't know when to shut the fuck up!" he huffs. "i hate to break it to you, baby, but i doubt anyone thinks you knocked me up by way of immaculate conception," you laugh, cheekily while running a hand over your belly, and he's blushing again.

ok but why is wearing overalls (in general, but also) while pregnant such a vibe?! you have a pair for your gardening and farm work, but your overall and dress collection expands dramatically when you start showing because all you want to do is be comfy.

you get an insatiable craving for trashy chicken nuggets. mcdonald's, sonic, dino nuggets made in the air fryer (or even just in the microwave), you name it! marcus makes fun of you considering you're married to a james beard award winning chef and yet all you want is fried chicken. carmy begins making you your own nugget sauces because, while he can't flip the bear into a drive-thru fast food chain, he CAN make a mean buffalo sauce, a homemade ranch, or a fancy beet ketchup.

you want to give the baby something gender neutral that you can refer to them as, still undecided about whether or not you want to find out. it slips out one day while carmy is talking to your belly before bed (because of course pete told him that was something he should do) and you're both a freaking mess when carmy calls them baby bear for the first time.

speaking of pete, he sees fatherhood as another way to connect with carmy. it's sweet, but in classic pete fashion, he's a tries a little too hard. he's in love with being a father and is more than happy to lend carmy books, recruit him for a daddy & me bootcamp, and asking the both of you if you want to hold his baby michael every chance he gets. while sugar pretends that she hates it (she loves it) you're more than happy to leave carmy with pete for the day. sure, it's annoying, and sure pete's A LOT, but it really IS sweet.

sugar insists on throwing you a baby shower and pete offers to help the two of you find a bigger apartment since you'll need more room. you decide to strike while the iron is hot (aka while you have the energy to) and the two of you move to a bigger unit in your building. you're most definitely wearing overalls and you're most definitely beginning to show. carmy doesn't want to let you lift anything where you have to remind him that you're pregnant, not breakable (which, still doesn't put his mind at ease). regardless, marcus, gary, sugar, and pete all come to help the two of you move on a saturday. (sydney is running a whole new damn restaurant so she's busy or she'd be there but she makes sure to send food over and stops by later to check in that night).

liz & maya send you the sweetest gift: a crocheted onesie with 'baby bear' embroidered on the front, while your parents have already purchased grandma and grandpa merch. they're on the first flight out as soon as soon as you and carmy facetime them and tell them the news.

carmy never misses a single doctor's appointment. it doesn't matter what shift he has to call out of or who he has to call in a favor with, he will be there. you have ultrasound photos everywhere: taped to the fridge, in your planner, in carmy's office at the restaurant, functioning as a bookmark in one of your books.

marcus runs a mean campaign to be godfather that would give any presidential candidate a run for their money. richie competes with him, partially just to stir the pot, and carmy has to talk him down, reminding him that he got to be the witness in your wedding. you make the argument that if anything ever happened to the two of you, you'd want your baby to grow up with a pastry chef for a parent-figure. "dark..." richie comments, shooting you a look, while you shrug it off with a laugh. "that was dark, babe," carmy says, nervously. "yeah the concept of godparents is dark, honey," you point out.

after going back and forth about it, you and carmy decide that you do want to know the gender of baby bear after all. when you finally share your decision with your OB, she's more than excited to share with you that you're having a girl. you and carmy, both teary-eyed, stare up at the ultrasound and declare that it's a new chapter for the berzatto family.

[celticcrossanon]

Australian Tour

Monday the 21st of October

The King and Queen travelled to Canberra today.

Under a cut as this is long

The King and Queen arrived in Canberra at 11.45am.

There was a Welcome to Country ceremony and a Smoking Ceremony at Defence Establishment Fairbairn upon their arrival in Canberra. The King and Queen were greeted by Ngunnawal Elder Aunty Serena Williams.

The King and Queen went to the War Memorial, where they laid a wreath at the War Memorial and toured the separate For Our Country memorial for indigenous soldiers (I can't find any pictures of this last event). They were shown through the For Our Country memorial alongside Aunty Lorraine Hatton OAM, an Australian Army veteran and Quandamooka Elder of the Noonuccal and Ngughi tribes in Southeast Queensland.

They then greeted the public outside the War Memorial.

The next stop was Parliament House, where The King reviewed members of the ADF on his arrival and The King and Queen attended a reception which included another Welcome to Country ceremony by Ngunnawal elder Aunty Violet Sheridan. The King and Queen signed the visitor's book at Parliament House (and also at the War Memorial earlier). At the reception, the King and Queen met two Australians of the Year, Professor Georgina Long and Professor Richard Scolyer. At some time during their time at Government House they met members of the public in the forecourt.

The Queen left to change her outfit and attend a solo engagement, a round table discussion with domestic violence advocates at Government House, hosted by the Governor-General Ms Sam Moyston.

King Charles received the Prime Minister and Leader of the Opposition at Government House. During this time he signed the royal warrant for the use of The Great Deal of Australia by the Governor-General.

Later in the afternoon, The King and Queen planted a pair of snow gums at Government House in Canberra

The King then visited the CSIRO's National Bushfire Research Laboratory. The King watched a "Pyrotron" demonstration which replicates a bushfire in a 29-metre long combustion wind tunnel, and then saw a 'burn over drill' outside, where five volunteer firefighters of the ACT Rural Fire Service demonstrated how firefighters stuck in the truck in the middle of a firestorm would survive 

The Queen visited the charity GIVIT in a room at the Australian Botanic Gardens.

The King and Queen then visited the National Botanic Gardens. The King undertook a special tour of the Banksia Garden by Beverly and Kain Ardler from the Wreck Bay Aboriginal Community. while The Queen met with schoolchildren learning about seed pods before re-joining the King. The King planted a tree and they both walked through the Rainforest Gully before returning to Sydney.

It was a full day of events for both of them.

I am not mentioned the protestors, especially one very rude and disrespectful protestor (described as a "one-off idiot" by the indigenous elder who did the Welcome to Country ceremony at the reception at Government House, and her act was described as 'political exhibitionism' by a former Prime Minister), as they are not worth my time or attention.

[kjmsupremacist]

poison sweet off the vine (chan/felix)

Chan, a poor student hoping to make a little extra money while he pursues a masters in music production, lands a gig as a super rich family's pool boy. He thinks it's pretty sweet at first. He'll get to stay in a fancy house and eat fancy leftovers and all he has to do is clean their pool and help out around the house. And then he meets Felix, the bratty, sharp-tongued, skirt-wearing son of his employers. He knows he could get fired for just looking at Felix the wrong way, but Felix, even with his stormy, unpredictable moods and ignorant selfishness, is alluring and beautiful.

Part 1 | next mlist

Characters: Chan, Felix, other members of skz throughout

Genre: smut, eventual romance, angst, I cannot overstate how much of this is sex

Pairing: Chan/Felix

Warnings: alcohol, family dysfunction, mentions of homophobia, slut-shaming (both the fun kind and the not fun kind), feminization

Rating: Explicit

Length: 12.4k

Felix has got some shit going on in this one. It's not, like, super serious and we don't really get into addiction territory, but I will say it might be triggering for some people, so please just proceed with caution.

On that, we also don't really see what I would say is a realistic path of recovery or whatever. The ending is by no means meant to be read as "and then they lived happily ever after the end" but I leave a lot out because ultimately this is a horny fic within a sort of fucked up setting, and I didn't want it to turn into a pedantic exercise. So I guess this is sort of me saying the dove isn't dead, per se, but it's not doing well. I'm in no way trying to glorify mental health issues brought on by neglect and self-loathing, so please just keep that in mind.

Chan probably should’ve known what he was getting himself into. 

After months of searching for side jobs and apartments, he finally found what seemed to be a perfect solution—pool boy and general assistant around a grand estate, with room and board covered. The house is huge, with large, comfortable staff quarters. It’s a short bus ride away from the University of Sydney, where Chan will be pursuing a masters in music composition and production starting in February. And while the family who owns the place are rich and snobbish, they’re nice enough, and seemed reasonable during his phone interview.

Chan had no reason to say no. So in early December, he packed himself up and moved back to Australia from Korea, away from all his university friends and into a house of strangers. He’ll be missing the holidays with his family, but he wanted to start making money, so here he is. And up until this moment, Chan thought everything was going to be fine. 

“You’ll sleep here.” Mrs. Lee shows Chan to his room personally—a basement level bedroom with a small connecting bathroom and a sizable closet. There’s even a small desk in the corner—perfect for when Chan will stay up late studying. “You’ll use the small kitchen to make most of your meals, but we have luncheons and dinners sometimes to which all the staff are invited. Additionally, our cooks usually buy a little extra on groceries in case something goes wrong. If there are any leftovers, they of course go to our live-in staff members. So don’t worry too much over your grocery bills. For tonight, of course, I hope you’ll join the family for dinner so we can get to know you. I understand you’ll be taking classes after the break?”

“Yes ma’am,” Chan says, nodding as he tentatively drops his bags on the floor.

“If you could just send me your schedules as you get them, that would be helpful,” Mrs. Lee says. “I will try to let you know in advance if there are any important events where we need you, but for the most part I’ll leave those decisions to you. I just like to know when we can expect you to be home or away.”

“Will do,” Chan agrees. 

“Mostly, you’ll help with outdoor maintenance. We do have a gardener, but we let him know that he can feel free to ask for your help with more menial tasks.” Mrs. Lee gestures for Chan to follow her down the hall. “Here’s the staff laundry. There is also our main laundry room, where our maids take care of the family’s laundry. Since the holidays are coming up, we might be a little short-staffed over the next month or so. If our maid needs a hand with the laundry, can I ask you to assist?”

“Certainly,” Chan says.

“Perfect.” They head back up the stairs. “I believe that’s all I have for you, except to give you your key. Please use the staff entrance through the back. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Ah, yes,” Chan says. “Are there specific hours I’m expected to keep? Such as being up at a certain time?”

“Unless one of us requests your presence earlier, I don’t mind when you get up as long as your sleep schedule doesn’t inhibit you from performing your duties,” Mrs. Lee says. She rummages around in a drawer in the study. “Here.” She produces a silver key on a plain keyring, handing it to Chan. “Try not to lose it, but if you do, just tell us straight away. We know a good locksmith, so it will be a quick fix. You have all our contact information?” 

“Yes,” Chan says, attaching the key to his ID protector that also has a few of his other things on it. “Thank you.”

“I think we’re all set, then,” Mrs. Lee says, leading Chan back out into the foyer. “I think introductions will wait until dinner, as my husband doesn’t get home from work for a few hours and goodness knows where Felix is—”

“I’m here, Eomma.” Chan turns at the sound of a deep voice, and sees his undoing poised at the top of the grand staircase.

He’s the prettiest thing Chan has ever seen. His hair is dyed a pale pink, and grown out so his bangs sweep low past his ears, the longest strands just brushing his shoulders. Chan can make out freckles scattering across his face, and delicate silver jewelry dangles from his ears and neck, glinting in the light as he makes his slow way down the stairs. Most notably, though, he’s in a baby pink blouse, tucked into a short white skirt, with matching pink knee-high stockings. 

Chan’s world tilts. He knew that this family had kids, that they were around his age. But at the time, Chan had reasoned that it wouldn’t be a problem. He’d be too busy between work and eventually school to develop much of an interest, and besides, they were probably all boring, spoiled brats that Chan would become disenchanted with the instant he saw them. 

Now, he has to grapple with the fact that he was sorely mistaken. Everything is not going to be fine, because his new employer has a beautiful, skirt-wearing son, and Chan has to fight to tear his eyes back to Mrs. Lee instead of staring at Felix’s thighs when his skirt flutters with every step.

“Is this the new pool boy?” Felix asks, and Chan doesn’t miss the lofty tint in his tone. He bristles a little, but it’s hard to stay mad when he glances back and catches sight of Felix’s cute little button nose scrunched just slightly against the sunlight streaming in through the windows.

“Yes, this is Chan,” Mrs. Lee says. “Chan, this is Felix, my son. He’s just finished his first year at university and is home for break.”

“Hi, Felix,” Chan says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” Felix replies as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “You’re studying music at Sydney Uni, aren’t you? For your masters, right?”

“Ah, yes,” Chan says, realizing that Felix must already know all about him; he has no doubt the parents shared his resume and details with their children before agreeing to hire him. “Where are you studying?”

“UWA,” Felix replies, smiling politely. “I’m not sure what I’ll be studying yet.”

“Perth,” Chan says, nodding. “That’s quite aways.”

“Not as far as Korea,” Felix says, and Chan can’t tell what he means by that. “Besides, Perth has some of the best schools, so it’s worth it.”

Chan decides that he’s being put down, but can’t figure out how, exactly, so doesn’t bother trying to piece it out. It hardly matters, anyway; Mrs. Lee is right here, so it’s in Chan’s best interest to remain ignorant and well-mannered. “That’s true,” he says simply.

Felix looks between Chan and his mother for a moment. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he says, and walks down the hall.

Mrs. Lee watches him go with a small, fond shake of her head, then turns back to Chan. “Feel free to head back to your room, wash up, maybe take a nap,” she offers. “I’m sure you’re tired from traveling. Dinner will be at seven.”

Chan ducks his head in lieu of a proper bow. “Thank you again for everything,” he says, and makes his escape. As he weaves back through the house, Chan catches a glimpse of Felix padding out into the garden. He’s got a full bottle of wine in hand, almost as pink as his stupid little stockings.

Chan sighs. It’s going to be a long summer. His only consolation is that Felix will go back to Perth at the start of the next semester and only be back for breaks, and Chan will be able to drown in his homework in peace.

* * *

Dinner is served at the big, fancy table in the dining room just off the foyer. Chan makes his way through the maze of hallways and sees an army of staff setting the table. He counts four positions—the parents, Felix, and him, then. The daughters aren’t supposed to be back for another week, if he recalls.

Mrs. Lee is directing her staff, positioned in the threshold of the kitchen entrance, tasting dishes and sending some back. She spots Chan during a lull and steps into the dining room fully. 

“Please, take a seat.” She gestures him to the spot furthest from the head of the table. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Ah,” Chan says, pulling out his chair but hesitating to sit. “Just water, please. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, don’t worry,” she replies, ducking her head back into the kitchen. “A glass of water, please.” She pops her head back out to the dining room. “Though if Felix doesn’t appear by the time my husband arrives, I might ask you to go fetch him.” 

Chan inclines his head, though the thought of it makes him tense. He doesn’t like the idea of being alone in a room with Felix. He’s not sure if it’s fear over what Felix will say to him, or fear of his own impulses. Maybe both.

The table is set before Chan; eventually, Mrs. Lee is satisfied with her staff and takes a seat, too, to the right of the head of the table, opposite side as Chan, which means Chan’s seatmate will be Felix. Great. 

Mrs. Lee checks her watch. “I think he just got home,” she says. “Would you mind getting my son for me? We don’t want the food to get cold.”

“Sure,” Chan agrees, pushing his chair back cautiously and standing. “Any places I should check first?”

“Out in the garden, most likely,” Mrs. Lee replies. “If not there, then the pool, and if not there, then his room.”

“Got it.” Chan heads through several rooms to the back door, shoving his feet into the slippers Mrs. Lee had laid out for him there when he first arrived, and punches in the code on the alarm system so the siren doesn’t go off before opening the door. 

The air is muggy and thick and oppressive. Chan feels the moisture on his skin as soon as the door shuts behind him. He trudges across the vast second-story patio and over the bridge that looks down onto the smaller patio below, as well as the pool. No sign of Felix there. He crosses into the gardens, venturing deeper until he comes upon a clearing. It’s lined with carefully-maintained plants and a few statues. There, on the other side, sprawled on an ornate bench beneath the grand weeping willow, is Felix. He had one arm draped over his eyes, the other hanging off the bench, clutching the neck of the wine bottle, which rests somewhat precariously in the grass. 

“Ah, Felix?” Chan tries. Felix doesn’t budge. Sighing, Chan makes his way across the clearing, swatting a bug away as he nears him. There’s a nearly-red tinge to Felix’s cheeks, obscuring his freckles. He must have gotten some sun, despite the fact that this entire clearing is in shade. Then again, he’s been out all afternoon, Chan supposes. He comes to a stop a few feet away from the bench, unsure. The skirt Felix is wearing is riding up his thighs. Chan clears his throat and tries not to stare. “Felix, your father is home and your mother asked me to bring you to dinner.”

Felix raises the hand over his eyes, squinting up at Chan. There’s a blankness on his face for a few moments, and then a detached sort of recognition falls into place. “Pool Boy Chan,” he says, voice slow and syrupy. “Your welcome dinner, right. It’s seven already?”

“Seven-twenty,” Chan supplies.

Felix sighs, peeling himself up from his perch and bringing the bottle into his lap. Chan sees it’s almost completely empty, and understands the flush on Felix’s cheeks. He watches as Felix yawns, runs his eyes, and then surveys the contents of the bottle. “Ugh, it’s all warm,” he mutters, but downs it anyway before pushing himself up to his feet, now-empty bottle swinging at his side. He sways for a second but rights himself before Chan can reach out to help him. “Well?” he prompts, looking at Chan. “Are you gonna stand there, or are we gonna go to dinner?”

Chan wonders how Felix’s parents will react to the wine, but decides it’s not his place to say anything. “Right, yeah,” he says, turning and shuffling back the way he came, checking over his shoulder every now and again to make sure he hasn’t lost his charge. 

Felix picks his way through the garden with ease. How are his stockings still so perfect? How is his blouse still tucked and smooth? How is he pretty even with a sour attitude and alcohol warm in his cheeks? Chan balks at this last thought. Stop it. You cannot be thinking about how pretty your boss’s son is. On day one. Get a fucking grip, Chris. 

Felix does trip going from the grass and dirt of the garden to the concrete and tile of the bridge. Chan catches him, staying steady even when the wine bottle hits him right in the elbow. Chan makes the mistake of inhaling when Felix is pressed close. He smells like wine, certainly, but he also smells like lemons and sugar and something that makes Chan want to press his tongue to Felix’s skin. 

“Sorry,” Felix says in a tone that’s just a touch too silky for his loss of balance to have been accidental. Chan steels himself, making sure Felix is solid before simply letting go. 

“No worries,” he replies mildly. If Felix wants a reaction out of him, he’s not going to get one. “You okay?”

Felix nods, lifting the bottle a bit. “Drank most of it sitting down,” he says, offhand. “Thought I would sleep it off, but…”

Chan nods wordlessly, continuing across the bridge and patio, back to the door. He unlocks the door, sliding his shoes back off and waiting as Felix struggles a little with his. When he offers his hand, though, Felix gives him a look of disdain. 

“I’m tipsy, not catatonic,” he says, tone icy. Chan retracts his hand quickly before he can stop himself, stung. 

Felix gets rid of the empty wine bottle somewhere between the back entrance and the dining room. When they return, Mr. Lee is just settling into his chair. He looks up and, upon seeing Chan, offers his hand to shake. Chan hurries to accept. 

“Chan?” Mr. Lee asks. 

“Yes, sir,” Chan says. He doesn’t miss the slightly sharper inhale from behind him—thinly veiled amusement from Felix. He doesn’t turn his head. 

Mr. Lee also ignores this intrusion. “Mr. Lee, and no need to call me sir,” he says. “Please, sit.”

“Thank you for getting Felix,” Mrs. Lee adds, picking up a dainty bell beside her empty wine glass and ringing it once. “He’s often late, though I must say it’s not like him to… indulge so much before dinner.” There’s a sharpness under the polite tint of her tone, Chan notes as he slides into his chair and reaches for his napkin—disappointment, edges jagged with embarrassment.

“I just had a couple glasses of wine,” Felix defends. Staff members file into the room, carrying pitches, dishes, more wine. “I’m on break, Eomma. I’m relaxing.”

“Only one glass with the meal,” Mrs. Lee says. 

“Eomma,” Felix complains. 

Mrs. Lee’s eyes flick to Chan, then back to her son. “Fine. Don’t do it again.”

Felix nods. Chan files this exchange into his mind to study later. 

Wine is poured, soup is served, and dinner begins. 

“So, you’re studying music, Chan?” Mr. Lee asks.

Chan is grateful the soup is made from cold cucumbers; he swallows quickly and painlessly so he can respond. “Ah, yes, music production.”

“The arts are very important,” Mr. Lee says. “But they require a passion.”

“I believe I have that,” Chan says as politely as possible. 

“That’s good,” Mr. Lee says. “We are nothing without drive, ambition.”

Felix takes a long pull from his wine glass. 

The rest of dinner goes this way—polite drivel bounced back and forth like a casual tennis match between Chan and the Lee parents, while Felix mostly ignores all of them in favor of his meal. Each new course resets Chan’s expectations for just how horrendously rich this family is. A dish featuring caviar is followed by a truffle risotto, and then lobster. The wine is endless, so Chan keeps to sips.

He also gets the distinct impression that family mealtime is rare, a practice that is stored away in a cabinet with the nice dishes, taken down and used only when necessary. 

Chan doesn’t keep track of how much Felix is drinking, but by the time dessert comes around, the flush has crept down Felix’s neck. Still, he seems steady enough, and when he is pressed for a comment, he provides one with ease. So is that what he is? I guess every rich family has its functional alcoholic. More money, more problems. 

“Thank you for the meal,” Chan says earnestly when the staff come to clear the last of their dishes away.

Mrs. Lee offers him a smile. “Of course,” she says. “Thank you for joining us.”

“Congratulations,” Felix cuts in before Chan can formulate a reply. “She’s impressed with your table manners.”

“Felix,” Mrs. Lee says, tone cool but meaning clear. “It wasn’t a test, Chan,” she adds. “We just would provide some… instruction if you had been… less practiced. So you could be prepared in the case of a more formal event.”

“Ah,” Chan manages. 

“Well, on that note,” Mr. Lee says. “I think we’ve held Chan here long enough. You must be tired from traveling.”

“A bit,” Chan admits. It is true, but he’s mostly interested in getting away from the awkward tension at this table. 

“Go on and get some rest, then,” Mrs. Lee says. “Both of you. The staff will clean up here. We—” She gestures to her husband. “—will likely be gone when you get up and will return later in the evening. That’s typical of our schedules. Meals are whenever you’re hungry. Our kitchen isn’t fully staffed at the moment, but Chan, please help yourself to any leftovers. Maya—one of our senior employees—will be able to help you.”

“Thank you,” Chan says. Felix is already standing. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Chan takes this as a final dismissal, and hurries to follow Felix’s retreating footsteps down the hall.

He doesn’t catch up to him; the steps leading down to the staff quarters are closer. As he descends, he looks back and catches a glimpse of the swishing white of the skirt and the faintest whiff of sugary lemons. 

* * *

Chan collapsed into sleep as soon as he got settled in his room, exhaustion pulling him down into unconsciousness almost violently. When he wakes, the house is still and dark, the air in his room stale. There’s a damp patch directly beneath his body on the sheets from a small accumulation of sweat—he must not have moved a muscle since shutting his eyes. 

Though fatigue weighs on his limbs, his mind is decidedly awake, so Chan pushes himself up, slapping around for his phone and then groaning when the bright screen sears his eyeballs. 

Eventually, he discerns that it is 5:17 a.m. Chan’s an early riser, but not this early, so he blames it on the nap he took before dinner yesterday. In any case, it can’t be jetlag, since Korea is an hour behind Australia. Chan gets up and dressed, bumbling around his room quietly and trying to kill a little time. 

Around six, his stomach growls angrily, so he resigns himself to human interaction and opens his door, making for the kitchen. 

The light is on when he gets there, and an older woman is stacking dishes in one of the cupboards. She must have heard Chan approach, or else simply has a great sixth sense, because she turns as he enters. 

“Chan?” she asks. She’s white, unlike most of the staff, with weathered skin and crooked teeth and piercing eyes. Chan guesses she must be in her mid-fifties; her hair is just beginning to grey. 

“Ah, yes,” he says, realizing it was more a question than a greeting. 

“Maya,” the woman says, and some neural pathway manages to fire in Chan’s brain and reminds him that this must be the woman Mrs. Lee mentioned the night before. “Good to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Chan replies. 

“You hungry?” She returns to her task, sliding some plates into place. 

“Yes,” Chan says. 

“Me too.” She takes the last handful of silverware and files it into a drawer. “How about some bacon and eggs?”

“That would be amazing,” Chan says. “Can I help?”

“If you want toast, it’s in here,” Maya says, tapping a long, skinny cabinet door as she shuffled past on her way to the fridge. “Could you grab me a slice? Not toasted, though, just leave it on a plate. Do you want coffee?”

“Yes please,” Chan says, taken aback by her blunt but warm welcome, lurching into motion and crossing to the cabinet. 

Chan makes toast and Maya cooks at the stove, coffeemaker brewing to the side. “Mr. and Mrs. Lee are already gone,” Maya tells him without him even asking. “Felix will get up anywhere between seven and noon. The girls will be the same. Generally, as long as you’re polite and you don’t get… underfoot, you’ll find your time here to be quite pleasant.”

Chan registers that she’s offering him some valuable advice. “I’ll keep it in mind, thank you,” he says.

Maya looks him over out of the corner of her eye. “You seem like a nice young man, though,” she says. “I doubt you’ll have a problem.”

“Have there been… problems before?” Chan ventures. 

Maya is quiet for a moment, but eventually she responds. “Yes, we’ve had a few pool boys in the past. Of course, some simply moved away, but.. we had a few get in trouble for making passes at the girls.” She turns and Chan sees she’s done cooking—she’s holding two perfect plates of bacon and eggs. “Not just the pool boys, of course, other staff members have been fired for similar reasons. It’s usually that, or stealing.” She offers Chan one of the plates.

“Thank you,” he says. “And thank you for explaining. I am just here to earn some money while I’m in school, though, so you’re right, I doubt I’ll have a problem.” That is, unless Felix takes over my brain, he adds silently. 

The leathery skin of Maya’s cheeks wrinkles as the corners of her mouth tug up in a small smile. “Good.” She nods towards the door. “Go on, find a spot at the island. Take your toast. I’ll bring the coffee and jam.”

Chan’s just finishing up his food when Felix stumbles in, head in his hands. He’s barefaced and puffy-eyed and wrapped in a simple silk robe. It hangs loose at the chest. Chan snaps his gaze back to his plate before he can get caught looking. Felix slumps into a seat at the far end of the island.

Maya has already finished eating, and was in the kitchen cleaning up, but she comes in now with a mug of coffee and a small tablet of medicine in the other hand, tsking at him softly. 

“Thank you,” Felix grumbles quietly. “I haven’t thrown up yet, but if I do, I’ll clean it myself.”

Maya hums her approval. “Just toast for now?” 

“Yes please,” Felix says. 

Chan listens to this exchange attentively. This Felix is entirely different from the one he met yesterday. He kind of expected him to snap at Maya, to be antagonistic the way he was before, but instead he’s small and quiet and contrite. Maybe Chan misread him. Or maybe his hangover is just that awful. 

Felix downs the pill Maya brought him with a soft groan. There’s a heavy silence save for the soft scraping of Chan’s fork against his plate. And then—

“No, I don’t usually drink like that,” Felix says flatly, and Chan nearly jumps out of his skin. 

“I didn’t say you did,” he replies quietly once he recovers. 

“You were thinking it,” Felix says. “Last night. And yes, I’m usually polite to our staff. I’m spoiled, but I’m not a monster.”

The Felix Chan met yesterday had been a bit of a monster, rude and arrogant and selfish, so Chan doesn’t know if he buys that, but he just puts his utensils down and looks up at Felix, holding his gaze. “Okay,” he says.

“You’re not smarter than me, okay?” He says it with such finality. 

Chan’s not exactly sure what he means. “Uh, okay,” he agrees anyway, taking his final bite of toast and washing it down with the last of his coffee. 

Felix nods and goes back to being miserable into his palms. Chan almost feels bad for him—almost. 

He brings his dishes back to the kitchen, protesting weakly when Maya takes them. 

“Your job isn’t in here,” she says. “Go on, tend to the pool before it gets too hot.”

“Thank you,” Chan says, and slips out the front entrance so he doesn’t have to confront Felix again, heading back to his room for some sunblock and a bottle of water. 

Though it’s only a bit past seven by the time Chan makes it outside, it’s already punishingly hot. He tries to make quick work of it, skimming off dead leaves and dead bugs and other unidentifiable debris. He tests the water, tests the filters, tests the temp, and clears the pool deck of debris as well. He checks the stock of towels, water bottles, liquor and ice and mixers behind the bar on the far end of the patio. By the time the pool and deck look spotless, it’s nearing eleven and Chan is drenched in sweat. He retreats to the shade, treating himself to a bottle of water.

He doesn’t see Felix approach, but suddenly the boy is standing over him, dressed in nothing but short black swim trunks, sunglasses pushed back over his hair.

“Come float with me,” he says. “You’re gonna die of heatstroke if you don’t.”

Chan grunts, taking another swig of water. “I'm supposed to be working.”

“Well, are you?” Felix asks. “Working? The pool’s already clean. Jerry isn’t here today, so there’s no gardening to do. Your only responsibility now is keeping me company.”

Chan’s still not sure how to take this shift in attitude. “I don’t think that was in the job description.”

Felix’s eyes narrow, his eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. “Fine, sit here and melt then, I don’t care.” He turns to go; Chan finds himself wounded somehow by the sourness in his voice.

“Hey, alright, alright,” he says quickly, pushing himself up onto his feet and tugging his tank top off. “You’re right, anyway, I’m melting.”

Felix turns back, and his gaze is bright again. “Good,” he says, and slips into the deep end.

Chan joins him, and has to admit the relief of being in the cool water is almost overwhelming. He paddles out to Felix, tipping onto his back. “Feeling better?” he asks. 

“Mmhm,” Felix says. “Toast, coffee, and antiemetics work wonders.”

Chan can’t help but laugh. “Oh, that’s what Maya gave you?”

“What, did you think it was an antidepressant or something?” Felix asks. When Chan hesitates, he groans. “We’re not that stereotypical. Rich family with tortured children. No, we’re just about regular in terms of dysfunction.”

Chan isn’t sure how he’s supposed to respond to this, so he just kind of hums. 

“What’s your family like?” Felix asks. He floats into Chan; their shoulders bump and settle against each other. Neither of them move to pull away.

“Ah, I dunno, we’re pretty boring,” Chan says. “Grew up here, actually. Moved back to Korea. I have two younger siblings, a sister and a brother. Hannah’s in secondary school. Lucas is still in primary.”

“And you’re going into music,” Felix says, like he’s reviewing a file.

“Trying to, anyway,” Chan replies.

“I wish I could go into music,” Felix says. “But Abeoji says it’s not sensible. So I’m studying business and communications. He wants me to take over for him.”

Chan can’t conjure up much sympathy. No matter what Felix does, he’ll be doted on and provided for for the rest of his life. He has a path laid out before him; all he has to do is walk it. If he says he wants to walk it but is too tired, his parents would probably conjure up a gold chariot to carry him down it instead. Maybe it’s not what he wants, but it’s secure. Chan wishes he had security.

He feels tiny fingers on his bicep and looks up. Felix is ghosting a hand over the muscle, watching Chan, waiting. 

“What?” Chan asks.

“Do your parents know you’re gay?” Felix asks bluntly.

Chan blinks. “Uh, how did you know I’m gay?”

Felix gives him a look. “Please,” he says. “I already told you, you’re not smarter than me.”

“Yes, my parents know I’m gay,” Chan says, sighing. “Why?”

Is Felix moving closer? “How do they feel about knowing?” 

“They’re supportive,” Chan says uncertainly. Felix’s hand is still on his arm. His lips have gotten color back into them, pink-red and plush, Cupid’s bow all dramatic corners and enticing. Chan can smell him over the chlorine and sunscreen. Lemons and sugar and something else. He swallows, hoping Felix doesn’t see.

“Lucky you,” Felix says. “How do you feel about knowing it?”

“I’m not emotionally constipated, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Chan says. He can’t stop staring at Felix’s lips. He wants to grab his little wrist. He wants to grab both of them, wrap his arms around Felix’s waist, pin his hands behind his back, and kiss him. And kiss him. And kiss him. “I’m very comfortable with who I am.”

“Lucky you,” Felix repeats. Closer still; his eyes are half-lidded. Chan could count his freckles. He could kiss every one. “Lucky me.”

We had a few get in trouble for making passes at the girls. Felix wouldn’t be any different, Chan knows. Chan would be fired on the spot. He needs an escape, so he blurts out the first thing that pops into his head, wrenching himself from the lust-addled stupor Felix has somehow coaxed him into. “If you don’t usually drink like you did last night, then why did you? Last night?”

It works, at least; Felix pushes away. “I’m hungry,” he says instead of answering, paddling over to the ladder. “Let’s get lunch.”

Chan accepts this, hurrying to follow him.

* * *

The next week passes mostly in this way. Chan gets up early, cleans, spends the midday either lounging or helping one of the other members of the staff. Maya cooks a lot of his meals. Felix comes to bother him on occasion, demands for his time or attention. When Chan accepts, Felix is bright and sunny. His air of general superiority never goes away, but he’s fun to hang out with when he’s not actively trying to get Chan to touch him. When Chan rejects him, too busy with work or too tired to withstand the teasing, Felix’s entire disposition shifts, dour and sulky and often rude. He retreats into himself for the rest of the day, punishing Chan by punishing himself. I guess he’s just used to getting his way, Chan thinks to himself. Not a monster. Just spoiled.

Still, in the back of his mind, Chan remembers the first day. What had Chan done that day to elicit the moodier Felix? Was it something Chan had done at all, or was he simply a convenient target for Felix’s ire? He’s not sure. He’s not sure which option he dislikes more.

The girls arrive that weekend. Chan meets them briefly; Rachael, the eldest, is much like her mother, and will be out most days because she has an internship. Olivia, the youngest, is sweet and funny but spends most of her time chatting on the phone with her boarding school friends. Their parents, at least, had the foresight of putting all of them in separate wings, so there’s very little chatter about the house, even when all three are home. Felix has rooms on the fourth and highest floor of the house, and overlooks the back patio, gardens, and pool. Olivia is in a tower to the east—like, a literal, actual tower; Rachael sleeps on the third floor in the western area of the house, nearer to the elevator and overlooking the front drive. The primary suite takes up a majority of the rest of the third floor, which is about all that Chan knows. He’s only been as high as the second floor once, and it was to fetch something for one of the maids. It’s mostly guest rooms and entertaining space. 

Felix’s sisters are friendly, but they generally keep to themselves even when they are at home. Chan imagines they’re skittish around new male hires, and can’t blame him. He wants to tell them they don’t have anything to worry about, but knows it won’t do any good. Still, the idea does give him some dark amusement. Don’t worry about me, girls. It’s your brother I want.

And god, does Chan want. Felix is always in short little skirts and dresses, sometimes with stockings and other ridiculous little accessories, and is usually made up too, with sparkly eyeshadow and dark eyeliner and smudged mascara and sticky lip gloss on his pouty lips. He always ends up in Chan’s space whenever he can get away with it, coming up to him when he’s working on the pool or settling in the grass beside him in the garden or perching on a running washer while Chan works on a new load of laundry. He leans in close until Chan’s head is filled with the smell of him, taunting Chan, daring him to take.

Chan maintains his composure as best as he can over the next couple weeks, better than the first day at the pool now that he knows what he’s in for. Felix asks him about himself, and Chan answers delicately. He doesn’t pry into Felix’s personal life. He tells himself it’s because he’s being professional, or that he doesn’t want to give off the impression that he’s interested in Felix, which he fears will only make him bolder. But really, he knows it’s because he’s afraid that he’ll like what he finds, dragging him impossibly deeper into this weird psychosexual vortex, or else that he won’t like what he finds, but will nonetheless be enraptured by Felix’s terrible beauty.

He even jerks off to the thought of Felix despite his guilt, hoping it might cure him of his desire, but it does little to curb his impulses. Instead, it fills his dreams with Felix. Tortured, awake and asleep.

It’s not like Felix is helping in the slightest. If it were just in Chan’s head, he could probably bear it, stuff it away in some dark corner of his mind and soldier on. But the problem is, Felix seems to be determined to make Chan crack. He’s not even sure if Felix actually wants him, or just loves to toy with him. Either way, it’s kind of working. Chan is a man possessed.

Some days are like the first day, though. It doesn’t happen often, but Felix will disappear, and when he returns, it’s with alcohol in hand and an invisible veil over his features. He gets drunk and doesn’t speak to Chan or anybody else and stumbles off to bed. The next morning he pays the price for his indulgence, miserable but resigned. It’s almost like he’s punishing himself, but Chan doesn’t know for what. Still, by noon, he’s his regular self again, probing and selfish and dripping sweet poison that makes Chan nearly lose all sense. 

Chan does all he can to cling to his sanity. Keep your hands to yourself so you’re not tempted, he tells himself one hot morning as he pours himself a lemonade behind the bar, chores finally done. No matter what he does. You can’t control him, but you can control yourself.

And, of course, Felix appears. He’s in a little skort-bottomed bikini, baby pink with cherries smattering the surface of the fabric and heart-shaped pink sunglasses slung over the string in-between to the two cups on his chest. Chan feels a heat rise to his cheeks immediately, and fixes his gaze determinedly on Felix’s face instead. 

“Can you mix drinks?” Felix asks, hopping up onto one of the barstools. “You used to bartend, right?”

“Uh, yes,” Chan says. 

“Make me a Sex on the Beach,” Felix says, and Chan tries not to choke on his next sip of lemonade.

“D’you even know what’s in one of those, or are you just saying it because you like the name?” he asks with raised eyebrows, suppressing a cough.

“Vodka, peach schnapps, orange juice, and cranberry juice,” Felix rattles off immediately. “And sometimes those cherries or an orange slice. But I like mine with more peach schnapps and less vodka.”

Chan sighs at him. “I can’t just feed you alcohol. I don’t care if you’re old enough, I shouldn’t enable you. Your parents will kill me if you swan into dinner drunk on cocktails I made you.”

“I won’t get drunk off one cocktail,” Felix says. “Especially if you make it with less vodka and more schnapps.” When Chan hesitates, Felix wheedles, “Fine, no vodka at all. I just wanted to watch you make it, really. That’s all.”

“What?” Chan blinks at him stupidly. “Why?”

“You have nice arms,” Felix replies, like it’s simple. “I like strong guys, you know.”

“Well, I’m definitely not doing it now,” Chan mutters.

“Chan.”

“Felix.”

“Please?” Felix makes his eyes big and sad and pitiful.

“Will you lay off if I do?” Chan barters. 

“Pinky-swear,” Felix says, offering his pinky.

Chan links his reluctantly. “Okay, fine. Just one, though. No vodka, just schnapps.”

Felix keeps to his word. He doesn’t say anything else suggestive or flirty. What he does instead, Chan thinks as he lifts a bottle to measure and watches Felixfollow the line of his arm, is much worse. His eyes darken, his tongue poking out to swipe over his gloss-covered lips. He drags his gaze over Chan’s body, hiding nothing about it, about where he’s staring and why. Chan is embarrassed by the attention, of course, but mostly it all just goes straight to his dick. Felix is practically begging Chan to fuck him, and Chan wishes more than anything he didn’t have to say no.

He finishes making the drink, dropping a couple of maraschino cherries in, and even finds a pink umbrella to garnish it along with a matching straw.

“Thank you.” Felix’s voice is even deeper and huskier than usual. Chan clenches his fist around the neck of the schnapps bottle as he moves to put it away. “Ooh, this is really good. You must’ve been popular as a bartender.”

“I got good tips.” He cleans off the counter and dries his hands. “I’m, uh, gonna go in and see if Maya needs anything from me. Leave the glass in the sink when you’re done. I’ll clean it later.” He starts walking before he even gets an answer.

But Felix’s voice floats over to him on the wind, sweet poison just like the drink in his hand. “See you later, Chan.” 

Chan doesn’t go see if Maya needs anything. He heads straight to his room, locks the door behind him, and turns the shower on. He strips quickly, throwing his clothes on the floor and steps in under the cold water, chest heaving.

He comes with his forehead pressed to the cool tile, icy water pounding against his back and fist wrapped around his cock. It barely keeps the heat beneath his skin at a simmer.

When he goes back to the pool, Felix is nowhere to be found. The glass is clean and drying on the rack.

* * *

It’s on a particularly hot day that the last of Chan’s resolve melts into nothing.

Felix’s parents are both out, his father at work and his mother at some kind of social gathering; his sisters are gone, too—Rachael at her internship and Olivia at a friend’s house, and most of the staff have already taken leave for the holidays—Christmas is less than a week away. So it’s just Chan and Maya, and Felix.

Felix came down to breakfast that morning in something rather modest, actually—a light, flowy skirt that fluttered a few inches above his knees, and a plain t-shirt tucked into the waistband. Simple and demure. Chan had let it lull him to a false sense of security, thinking, it’s too hot today for mischief anyway, right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. Chan’s checking one of the filters in the shallow end of the pool, water lapping at his thighs, when Felix pokes his head out the back door. “Chan,” he calls.

“Yes?” Chan looks up, rinsing his hands off in the pool water.

“Can you help me? The zipper on my skirt is stuck, and I can’t twist it around to the front to see what’s wrong.”

Chan knows it’s dangerous. His promise to himself from the week before echoes faintly in his head. Keep your hands to yourself so you’re not tempted. But Felix looks genuinely upset. And it’s not like there’s anyone else to help him—Maya’s probably busy with the laundry, or working on lunch since their private chef is off until Christmas Eve. 

It’s just a zipper, Chris, he tells himself. You can handle a fucking zipper. “Sure, lemme just dry off.”

“I’ll be in the bathroom,” Felix replies, disappearing inside again.

Chan grabs a towel and runs it over his legs, just so he doesn’t drip all over the floors, and then chucks it on a nearby pool chair and ducks into the cool relief of the house. He pads across the hall and knocks on the bathroom door. 

Felix opens it and Chan slips inside, trying not to stare. Felix is shirtless, wearing just his skirt and a pout. Unlike Chan, he doesn’t try to hide his staring at all; Chan considers only now that he should’ve put a shirt on before coming in, or at least kept the towel as some kind of buffer. 

Not that it would’ve done anything, he thinks wearily as he gestures for Felix to turn around so he can look at the zipper. He’s as incorrigible and fickle as they come. 

The zipper is, in fact, stuck—Chan has to wrestle with the fabric as delicately as possible, but growing up with a little sister wasn’t for nothing, and eventually he manages to free it without putting a snag in a single thread. He doesn’t unzip it all the way, just far enough that it’ll be easy for Felix to reach. He’s honestly a little bit afraid that Felix is naked under the skirt, and that interaction is the last thing he needs.

“All set,” he says, cringing at the way his voice comes out, hoarse and weak. 

He turns to leave, but one of Felix’s tiny hands curls around his wrist, pulling him up short. “Finish unzipping it for me,” he says. “It’s hard for me to reach.”

“Felix.” Chan turns back around. “You can do it yourself.”

“Why don’t you wanna do it for me?” There’s that pout again, the pretty pink lips, glossy and so inviting; the wide, pitiful eyes. Chan almost falls for it, too entranced.

“You know why.” Chan tries to gently pull away, but Felix’s grip is too strong. “Felix,” he repeats. He thinks maybe he’s pleading with him, please, have a little mercy on me.

But Chan isn’t sure Felix knows how to be merciful, at least not in the face of something he wants. “Unzip me,” Felix demands, voice soft and almost petulant. “You said you’d help.”

Just unzip him and run, then, Chan thinks, sighing and moves behind Felix again, shaking his hand until Felix lets him go. He pulls the zipper down all the way and nearly bites his tongue so he doesn’t curse out loud.

He’s cursing a lot in his head, though. Fuck, shit fuck fuck fuck shit, oh fuck. Because Felix isn’t naked under the skirt. It’s worse.

Felix shimmies his hips a little so the skirt falls to the floor. He steps out of the puddle of fabric, then bends at the waist to pick it up. Fucker, Chan thinks. “What? D’you like them?” Felix asks, throwing Chan a glance over his shoulder. “Hyung?”

What a stupid question. Chan tips his head back, forcing himself to stare at the ceiling instead of at Felix’s cute little ass wrapped in a baby blue swimsuit bottom that’s only a few square centimeters of fabric away from being an honest-to-god thong. Felix has them hiked up over his hips, leaving very little to Chan’s imagination. He wants to escape before he sees what the front looks like and abandons all of his feverish promises of goodness right here and now.

“Felix,” Chan says through gritted teeth. “I don’t think your parents would appreciate this behavior. I certainly don’t.”

“You don’t?” Felix’s voice sounds closer, but Chan doesn’t dare look down. “Are you sure about that?”

Chan is absolutely sure about that. His body, however, has other plans. He can feel himself getting hard, and he knows if he doesn’t get out now, Felix will be able to see it through his swim trunks, and he’ll be done for. 

He feels fingertips on his waist, soft and warm. “Hyung,” Felix murmurs. “Look at me.”

Chan can’t help it. He crumbles completely at the sound of Felix’s voice, low and sweet and so enticing. He brings his head back to center, eyes focusing on Felix, and his breath catches in his throat as his gaze instantly travels lower. The front of the swim bottoms barely cover him; one wrong move and Chan’s certain Felix’s dick will pop free—which, he reflects, is probably exactly what Felix wanted. He flicks his eyes back up to Felix’s face, and is met with a devious little grin.

“I’m looking,” Chan says. “What else do you want from me?”

“I think you know exactly what I want,” Felix says.

“We can’t,” Chan says. “It’s not—appropriate, you know it’s not.”

“Why, because you’re working for my parents? So what?” Felix says. His hands are still on Chan’s body, trailing up his stomach. “They don’t have to know. It’s not that big of a deal! You’re only a couple years older than me, it’s not like it’s that scandalous. I want it. Don’t you?”

Chan swallows roughly. His skin is hot where Felix is touching him, even though goosebumps have broken out over his back where the A/C is blowing. This is it. Chan’s going to ruin his life for a terrible, pretty boy, and he finds that he doesn’t even care. “I do,” he whispers. He grabs one of Felix’s hands, the one that’s trying to sneak a little too low. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”

Victory shines through on Felix’s face, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Fucking finally,” he goads.

“Shut up and come here,” Chan says, and leans in and kisses him. 

Felix squeezes Chan’s waist with his other hand, gasping into his mouth. Chan takes a step forward, and another, cupping Felix’s jaw with one hand and nearly crushing his fingers in the other, backing him up against the wall. He licks Felix’s lip gloss off his lips, his teeth, his tongue. It tastes like artificial strawberry, gooey and sickly-sweet. He drops Felix’s hand, breaking away from him for just a second so he can take his baseball cap off, so the brim doesn’t get in the way. He throws it over in the direction of Felix’s discarded clothes without looking, and surges forward to kiss Felix again. Felix moans, taking hold of one of Chan’s biceps.

“Fuck,” Chan pants, reaching down and palming Felix’s ass, groaning when Felix hums out a noise of satisfaction. “God, if your parents weren’t gonna kill me before, they’re definitely gonna kill me now.”

Felix giggles. “No, they won’t.”

“I don’t care,” Chan says, dipping his head so he can nip at the sensitive skin of Felix’s neck, kissing over the hollow of his throat. “I’ll tell them it was your fault. You were the one who kept flirting with me, kept riling me up. Always wearing your shortest skirts, always looking for an excuse to touch me.”

“I wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t looked at me like that on the day we met,” Felix shoots back, and Chan flushes in embarrassment. He should’ve been more careful, he shouldn’t have even wanted it in the first place, but—well. It’s far too late now. “You made it so easy. It was too fun, I couldn’t resist.” 

“You’re such a brat,” Chan bites out. “Don’t act like it was just for fun. You wanted me to fuck you from the start.”

“So are you going to?” Felix asks. “Fuck me?”

“Well,” Chan says. “We’re gonna need lube. And probably a condom. And we probably shouldn’t be in the bathroom, what if Maya walks by? What if your mum gets home early and comes looking for you?”

“We could go up to my room,” Felix says, but he makes no move to pull away, and neither does Chan. Instead, Felix’s fingers find the waistband of Chan’s shorts. He toys with the fabric. “But I don’t want to wait. I want to come.”

“Already?” Chan asks, like he isn’t just as worked up, like he isn’t hard and aching just centimeters from Felix’s fingertips. 

“Touch me and find out,” Felix replies, and Chan doesn’t need to be told twice. He reaches down, ghosts his palm over the bulge in Felix’s obscenely small swim bottoms. Felix whines softly in his ear, so Chan gets bolder, curling his fingers and squeezing just slightly. The noise it pulls out of Felix’s chest is poisonous and wonderful.

Chan tugs the swim bottoms down as Felix lets his fingers slip inside Chan’s pants. A string of precome stretches from the head of Felix’s cock to the fabric before snapping midair. Chan presses his thumb against the slit, looking down to watch a few more beads dribble out over the tip when he pulls away. He collects it with his index fingers, spreading it down the length of Felix’s cock before taking him in his fist. “So messy, Felix,” he murmurs.

Felix fumbles for Chan’s cock, moaning softly. “Your hands are so big,” he whimpers. His hips twitch up into Chan’s palm. “Feels good.”

Though Felix is wet, there’s still too much friction, so Chan releases him for a moment. Felix whines at the loss, but Chan shushes him, spitting into his palm, and then takes him in his fist again, letting his spit mix with the precome, making the glide easy and smooth. Felix stutters over a moan, letting his head tip forward so his forehead is resting on Chan’s chest. He runs his fingers up the length of Chan’s cock, then brings his hand back out to the waistband of Chan’s shorts and tugs them down with a frustrated noise. 

Chan moves his hand faster over Felix’s cock, a dark, nasty sort of pleasure blooming in his chest when it makes Felix tremble. He lets out another choked little moan, and Chan shushes him. “Someone could hear you, and we don’t wanna get caught, do we?”

Felix doesn’t listen. “Cha-an,” he slurs, pressing a wet kiss to Chan’s chest as he fumbles with his cock. His little fingers are a bit clumsy, but it doesn’t matter to Chan. Felix is touching him, like he’s been imagining, like he does in Chan’s dreams. He’s not entirely sure this isn’t just another dream, except that it feels so real. He can smell sugar and lemons and Felix. He speeds up his hand, moaning low when Felix nips at his skin. 

“I tried, you know,” Chan huffs softly. “You know that, right? I tried not to let this happen. I tried not to want you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Felix says against his skin. “Didn’t work.”

“No it didn’t, did it?” Chan finds it easy to accept. “Look at me, baby.” 

Felix straightens, looking up at him. There are stars in his eyes. “What?”

Chan doesn’t reply, just kisses him again. His lips are so soft, mouth so inviting. Chan could kiss him all day, he thinks, running his tongue over the backs of Felix’s teeth. Felix rolls his hips in time with Chan’s hand, stroking Chan at the same pace, letting himself be kissed. The noises he makes against Chan’s lips only make the dark pleasure grow. Felix is ruining him, but at least the destruction is mutual. Chan’s gonna make sure he’s the best fuck Felix will ever have.

Felix pulls away to pant out, “Chan, Chan, oh fuck, so good, daddy, fuck,” and then he’s shooting hot white release onto Chan’s fingers, Chan’s arm, Chan’s stomach. Chan can’t help the low almost-growl that drags itself up his throat as Felix shakes, whimpering sweetly in Chan’s arms. 

“Good boy, baby,” Chan murmurs, head spinning from the way Felix sounded, the way he called him daddy. Coming out of any other mouth, it would’ve made Chan cringe, but somehow with Felix it makes his knees weak and his vision blur. “Made such a mess, you gonna clean it up?”

Felix doesn’t say anything, just bends over, still trembling, and presses his tongue to Chan’s abdomen, swiping at his own come until Chan is clean, even his arm and hand. He pulls off Chan’s fingers with a wet pop, blinking up at him.

“Still want me to fuck you?” Chan asks darkly, prying Felix away and tucking himself back into his pants.

“Yes,” Felix whispers, that same trained sultry look back in his eye. He recovers quickly, Chan thinks, almost exasperated.

“Get dressed, then,” Chan says. “If Maya asks, you invited me up to game.”

“Got it,” Felix says pertly, side-stepping Chan to retrieve his skirt, handing Chan his cap while he’s at it. 

Chan takes it, but doesn’t put it back on, instead doing his best to smooth his hair in the mirror, waiting while Felix tugs his t-shirt on, too.

“Zip me up?” Felix asks, and Chan is reminded exactly how he got here. It almost makes him laugh.

“Sure.” He pulls the zipper into place, bending to kiss the top of Felix’s spine when he’s done. “Ready?”

“Mm,” Felix says. “Let’s take the elevator, Maya probably won’t see us.”

He’s right. They get to the elevator without interruption and spend the ride from the basement to the fourth floor in complete silence. Chan had almost forgotten there was an elevator in the building, since most of his time was spent in the basement level or on the first floor. He’s pretty sure he’s never been in it. But it moves quickly, and soon Felix is leading them out and down a hall Chan has never stepped foot in. 

Felix’s room is like the rest of the house. It’s clean, proper, and stately. The only things that betray its inhabitant’s age are the figurines lining one of the bookshelves. Chan closes the door behind him, flicking the lock, and doesn’t have the chance to take in any more of his surroundings. Felix is on him in an instant, fingers at the waistband of his shorts again, needy and demanding. 

“C’mon,” he says, muffled by Chan’s skin. “You said you’d fuck me, so fuck me.”

Chan picks him up with ease, smiling to himself when Felix squeals his surprise, and walks them over to Felix’s bed. He deposits Felix in the sheets, hiking his shirt up and bending over him to suck a hickey into his inner thigh. 

“Chan,” Felix moans, sweet and low and perfect. “Daddy.” Chan bites, and Felix whines. “Oh, fuck, you’re so mean.” He’s breathless when he says it, delight pitching in his voice. His fingers find Chan’s hair, tangle in the curls. “Will you fuck me like that? Mean?”

Chan looks up, finds Felix’s glassy eyes. “Is that what you want, baby?” Felix nods, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “Want me to treat you rough? Want me to pound your cute little ass into the mattress?” He doesn’t know how the words have snuck their way into his mouth—dirty and depraved. But it doesn’t matter, because Felix rolls his eyes back in his head, nodding emphatically. 

“Please,” he whispers. “Please. It’s all I’ve wanted this whole time. ‘S why I’ve been so annoying.”

“At least you’re self-aware,” Chan mutters, crawling up the bed so he can kiss him.

Felix wraps his little legs around Chan’s waist, kissing him hungrily, trying to pull Chan closer. “Chan,” he murmurs against Chan’s lips between kisses. “Daddy, need you, please.”

“Where’s your lube, baby?” Chan asks. “Condom, too.”

Felix rolls over with a groan, yanking open the drawer of his bedside table and rummaging around inside. Chan takes the opportunity to unzip Felix’s skirt again, though he doesn’t tug it down yet. It’ll be easier when Felix is on his back. 

Felix reemerges from the drawer with lube and a condom held victorious in a tight fist. He rolls back over, lifting his hips as he hands over the goods so he can tug his skirt off. Chan helps him, dropping it on the floor off the side of the bed. Next goes Felix’s shirt, shucked easily up over his head and leaving him in just his microscopic swim bottoms. 

Chan does the only logical thing. He bends down and undoes the bows on Felix’s hips with his teeth. Felix gasps softly; it turns into a breathy moan when Chan turns his head and kisses the tip of his cock.

He kind of wants to blow Felix, but Felix asked to be fucked, and Chan has basically accepted that he’s never going to tell Felix no ever again, so he sits back on his heels and pumps out some lube. 

“Showered earlier,” Felix supplies. “I’m all clean.”

Chan wasn’t gonna ask, honestly, was just gonna go for it, but he appreciates it. He raises his eyebrows as he reaches down to spread his cheeks. “You were that confident it would work?”

Felix shakes his head. He looks so little, drowning in the crumpled duvet. Chan thinks his mouth is watering. “I was hopeful,” he says. “I’ve done it every day, hoping.”

“Jesus, baby,” Chan mutters, easing his first finger in and rubbing something patternless into the skin over Felix’s hip bone when he whimpers. “Just for me?”

“Mm,” Felix confirms. “Knew you’d come around eventually. Just wasn’t sure when.”

Chan’s got his finger in up to the last knuckle already. “You’re kinda loose, baby. Did you prep yourself already?”

“A little,” Felix admits coyly. “But you’re bigger than I thought.” A soft giggle rises up. “You’ll have to go up to four fingers for sure. I only did three of mine, and mine are tiny.” He holds up his hand to show, as if Chan hadn’t already catalogued this fact on day one, and hadn’t been obsessing over it ever since. 

“Jesus,” Chan repeats. “You do that every day, too?” 

“Not every—every day.” Felix’s breath hitches when Chan’s second knuckle slips back out and catches on his rim. “Usually just one finger, maybe two.”

It’s still incredibly hot. “Sure you were doing it for me, or do you just like having your hole played with?” Chan pushes two fingers in this time. It’s still not much of a stretch. 

Felix moans, showy and sweet. “Both,” he says. “Your fingers feel better than mine, though.” Chan is working up a slow rhythm. “You get deeper. I bet your cock will feel best.”

“Have you been thinking about it?” Chan asks, curling his fingers a little, searching around for Felix’s prostate. “Imagining my cock?”

Felix’s eyelids flutter. “It’s almost all I think about when I’m with you,” he admits, low voice impossibly lower. “Oh, fuck!” He arches up off the bed. Chan’s found it. 

“Yeah?” Chan teases, hoping his voice comes out steady so Felix doesn’t have proof of just how much this is turning him on. “Right there?” He does it again, petting over the spot, and Felix twitches weakly, letting out another incoherent moan. 

“Mm, daddy, stop, hurts,” Felix whines with absolutely no conviction in his voice.

Still, Chan avoids it for the next couple thrusts. “Can’t take it?” he goads. “But what happens when it’s my cock? I’m gonna fill you up, baby, you’re so tight, I won’t be able to avoid it.”

“I’ll fall apart,” Felix says, though not piteously. It’s more a statement of fact. “I don’t wanna fall apart yet.”

That’s fair, Chan supposes. He doesn’t respond, just fits his ring finger in alongside the first two. He meets some resistance, but Chan has done a good job so far, and Felix opens easily, so it’s not long before he’s pumping three fingers in and out of Felix like it’s nothing. 

“Ch-Chan,” Felix stutters. “Hurry up, I can take it.”

Chan kisses the inside of his knee. “No, I don’t know how you’d explain the limp to your mother.”

“She wouldn’t know it’s you I’m fucking,” Felix points out.

“Still,” Chan says. 

“She already thinks I’m a whore, it doesn’t matter,” Felix mumbles, so swift and quiet Chan almost misses it. 

“What?” He pauses mid-stroke. 

“Nothing,” Felix says. “It doesn’t matter is all. I said hurry up.”

You’re fucking him, you’re not his psychiatrist, Chan thinks to himself as he resumes fingering him. It’s not your job to try and fix his life. Even if you could, he’d hate you for it. 

They brush past the moment quickly, drowning it with the wet noises from between Felix’s legs and Felix’s sweet moans. Chan murmurs praise as he adds in his pinky—doing so good, baby, almost there, look so pretty, so patient for me—and Felix responds beautifully, fucking himself back down on Chan’s fingers and twisting in the sheets. A fine layer of sweat has broken out across his skin, making him glisten in the early afternoon light. By the time Chan finally pulls away, satisfied that he won’t tear anything when he fucks him, Felix’s cock is already hard again, red and leaking against his stomach. 

Chan rolls the condom on, spreading a little more lube over the length, watching Felix catch his breath. “Ready?”

“Chan, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll never forgive you,” Felix replies, and Chan laughs. He realizes it’s the first time he’s laughed in a while, the misery from keeping his desire tamped down and hidden for weeks too heavy for joy. But now it doesn’t matter anymore, and he’s laughing again. He lines himself up with Felix’s puckered entrance, pink and red and perfect. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” he says, and pushes in. 

Felix is perfect. Chan knew this, but still—it was only imagination that had guided him all this time, because Chan’s never known anyone as perfect as this. The tight heat around him makes him shake. Felix’s eyes cross first, and then roll back completely as he lets out a moan when Chan finally bottoms out. Chan tips over Felix’s body, breathing out soft moans and pressing reverent kisses to his chest and stomach. 

“So full,” Felix rasps softly. His hands are in Chan’s hair again, combing it off his forehead. “Oh, fuck, Chan, feels so good.”

“Perfect, baby, you’re perfect,” Chan manages. He doesn’t know what else there is to say. “Take me so well, it’s like we were made for each other.”

Felix refocuses his eyes. Chan watches his slow blinking. “Could just stay like this,” he says. “Till my parents get home.”

This makes Chan’s dick twitch; Felix feels it and giggles. “Thought you wanted me to fuck you,” Chan counters. “Mean.”

Felix sighs dramatically. “I want that, too.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” Chan says, drawing his hips back and pushing in again. 

“Mm, or tonight,” Felix says. “After everyone’s gone to bed. You won’t be able to fuck me hard then ‘cause we’ll have to keep quiet. You could just put it in and we could cuddle like that.”

Chan groans, imagining it, their hushed voices in the dark, hoping no one hears them, biting back moans as Chan pushes in and fills Felix up. Huddling under the covers, chest to back, Chan’s arms wrapped around Felix’s lithe body. “Fuck, baby, you’ve been thinking about this a lot, haven’t you?”

Felix nods. “I want you,” he says plaintively, like that explains it. Maybe it does, except Chan’s been wanted before, and it wasn’t like this. This is something else, something deeper, more primal. He knows because he feels it in himself, too.

“What do you want, baby?” Chan asks. He wants to know the ways Felix has been picturing him, wants to know if it’s the same as the ways he’s been picturing Felix. He thinks he’ll agree to anything Felix asks. 

“I-I,” Felix stutters, hesitant, but Chan recognizes it as fake. The words are just waiting to trip off Felix’s tongue. “I want you to fuck me and make me come over and over,” he begins. “I want it rough and fast. I wanna come so hard I almost pass out.” He’s picking up steam, talking faster. “ I want it everywhere. I want you to fuck me in the shower and bend me over my desk and push me up against the mirror.” He’s panting now, but he keeps going. “I want to ride your thigh in the pool, I want to choke on your cock when you’re eating breakfast. I’ll come find you in the garden, too, and I won’t be wearing any panties so you can finger me under my skirt.” He gives Chan a wide-eyed, innocent look when he says it, but Chan sees the clear intent behind the facade. He’s trying to rile Chan up, but he’s also dead fucking serious. “I can take it anywhere, any time, I want it like that. Doesn’t matter if I’m busy or drunk or asleep, I like it. I’ll like it if it’s you.”

“Lix,” Chan groans. “That’s so dirty.”

“Want you to take advantage of me, daddy,” Felix pleads, blinking up at him, his beautiful eyes huge. “I’ll only wear my tiniest underwear from now on, and I’ll finger myself open every morning so it’s easy. I’ll carry condoms in my bra, so you’ll know where to find them. Will you do it?”

“All of it?” Chan licks kisses up Felix’s neck. “We’re gonna get caught, baby.”

“Only when it’s safe,” Felix amends. “Can’t have them taking you away from me, who’d fuck me then?”

“Okay, only when it’s safe,” Chan agrees, because of course he wants it, too.

“Good,” Felix says. “Now fuck me harder, I wanna feel it.”

A strange sort of noise rumbles out of Chan’s chest. It’s something close to displeasure, he’s pretty sure, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it. He pushes himself up off Felix’s body and grabs him by the backs of his knees. He pushes him down into the bed that way, folding him at the hips until Felix’s knees are almost at his ears. “So flexible, baby,” he murmurs. Felix lets out a satisfied sigh, which hiccups into a moan when Chan thrusts into him. His cock bobs in midair from the force of it, dripping precome on Felix’s chest. “That how you wanted it?” He adjusts to the new angle quickly, picking up the pace again.

Felix is breathless when he responds. “Yes, just like that, yes.”

Felix is spread so wide like this, his body curled over itself to accommodate Chan. Chan digs his fingers into the skin of Felix’s thighs, hard enough to bruise. Felix can always wear stockings to cover them up, and Chan has a feeling he’ll like having the reminder. He slams his hips forward, rough just like Felix asked, fast and ruthless. All Chan’s hours in the gym are finally paying off, and he forces down delirious laughter at the thought. 

“Look so pretty like this,” Chan grits out. “Should’ve kept your skirt on, babygirl, they always make your waist look so nice.” Felix lets out a whimper at the word babygirl, and Chan zeroes in on that immediately. “You like that? Babygirl?” Felix nods fiercely; Chan realizes tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes, his cute nose reddening. Chan leans close. It’s a little difficult, with all the body in the way, but he manages, kissing the hollow of Felix’s cheek, then trailing down to his jaw. “Why the tears?” he murmurs into Felix’s skin.

His voice vibrates in Chan’s skull. “Feels so good,” Felix replies. “Just—overwhelmed, can’t help it. Good tears, don’t fucking stop.”

Chan straightens again, satisfied that Felix is okay, so he doesn’t have to work so hard. “Okay, baby. You need me to stop, though, just say so.” He rocks his hips in deep, making the bed creak. It’s a good thing nobody’s home.

“I won’t ever tell you to stop,” Felix says, and it’s dreamy and almost vacant. He’s staring up at Chan, eyes a little unfocused. A tear rolls down his cheek, leaving a pale grey streak in his skin from his mascara. He snakes a hand between his torso and his thigh and wraps it around his cock, stroking slowly, almost absently. His eyes never leave Chan’s face, even when Chan thrusts hard and deep and makes him cry out. “D-daddy, hn, gonna make me—gonna make me come—ah, oh fuck.” The rest is unintelligible, staccato moans, and then Felix’s whole body convulses. He clenches down on Chan, making it almost impossible for him to move; his pretty face contorts into a twisted expression of bliss, and his legs tremble. He comes with a string of soft curses, so hard some of it shoots past his chest and hits his face, coating his lips and spattering across his cheeks, a few droplets even sticking in his eyelashes.

Felix releases his cock, which still dribbles out a few beads of come with Chan’s every thrust, arms going limp at his sides and head lolling back. 

“Fuck, Lix,” Chan grunts, movements shallow despite the urge to start pounding him again, kind of worried he’ll fall apart. “Sound so gorgeous when you come.”

Felix is slowly licking the come off his lips while he cleans his eyelashes with the hand he wasn’t using to touch himself, his chest heaving. “I wish,” he says softly, so faint Chan barely hears it, “that I was flexible enough to suck my own cock.”

Unbidden, the image of Felix curled tight over himself, his own cock stuffed in his mouth, hole gaping and spread, manifests in Chan’s mind. “Oh, god,” he gasps, and before he realizes it, he’s coming, too, buried deep inside Felix, knuckles white where he’s still holding his legs. 

Chan hangs his head, panting and disoriented, as he comes down. Presently, he unlocks his fingers and releases Felix’s legs; they slide down on either side of him, whispering soft against the duvet cover. He makes no move to pull out. He’s not sure he can move at all.

After a while, he looks up, and sees that Felix has managed to clean off his face. He shakes his head, groaning, and sits back on his heels, bending over Felix’s body, running his hands down his sides, and presses wordless kisses to his ribs and stomach, slow and lazy.

“Good?” Felix whispers.

Chan looks up at him. “So good,” he replies. “Better than I imagined. Not sure I should say that, since it’ll just encourage you, but it’s true.”

Felix giggles brightly. “I won’t be nearly so bad now that I know you’ll give me what I want,” he says, tipping his head to the side.

“I have a hard time believing that,” Chan replies, finally pulling out. He gingerly removes the condom and ties it off, crawling up the bed so he can reach the waste basket next to Felix’s bedside table. He grabs a tissue while he’s at it, and rolls onto his side, towards Felix. “C’mere,” he coaxes softly. “Let me clean you up.”

“Oh,” Felix says, like he’d forgotten entirely about the mess on his chest. He turns to Chan, reaching out and laying a hand on his bicep.

Chan swipes his drying come away, leaning it to kiss away the rest, tugging Felix close to him until they’re lying chest to chest, legs slotted together. He looks up. “All done,” he says softly.

Felix leans in and kisses his forehead. The gesture is oddly sweet. “You really went for it,” he says. “I was impressed. I thought you’d need more prodding.”

“You’ve been quite frustrating,” Chan points out, keeping any trace of venom out of his tone. He’s not angry about it anymore. “I guess that was all the prodding I needed.”

“Mm, I’ll keep it in mind,” Felix says.

“Please don’t,” Chan mutters, and Felix giggles again.

“Out of curiosity,” he says. “Which outfits did you like best?”

“What?”

“What do you like to see me in?” Felix asks evenly. “It’s just you around. I can dress just for you.”

“Oh,” Chan says weakly. “I like the short skirts. And the stockings. You have—” He shifts his hand lower and squeezes. “—the best thighs ever, I like when you show them off.” Felix hums, clearly pleased. “But seriously, you could wear anything, and I’d want to fuck you. So don’t worry about me.”

Felix laughs again, full-bellied and mischievous. “Oh, Chan,” he sighs. “And here I thought my Christmas break was going to be boring.”

[squish36-writes-and-draws]

11 November: Unraveling

Quick little update: I have burned through my stash of prewritten pages, and now, when I need to write more, I have a cold and a shit ton of school things I should be doing. We're going to be on shaky ground until probably Saturday.

Word Count: 510

TW: Keefe is swearing a lot. Also, general Keefe angst. Self-esteem is in the single digits.

General Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously

@poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @corruption-exe @rusted-phone-calls

@when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes

@callum-hunt-is-bisexual @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @sillyguy-supreme

@void-kill @thefoxysnake

Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak

@theleopardstalker @you-will-meet-your-downfall @multi-fandom-lunatic

On Ao3 or below the cut!

First (3 November) / Previous / Next

I once loved a gardener with his dirt-smudged face and hands Trimmed my weeds and gave me room to grow my flowers again But now my love is gone And I am left here withering Withering

Keefe Sencen's Journal

  I hope you’re happy now, mother dearest. 

    I hope you know how much you’ve fucked me over. 

    I should have never even attempted to draw Taylor into this mess. I just—wanted to think that I’d be safe for once in my starsexile life, but that’s too much to ask. 

    Over the last couple of hours, I’ve bounced around the globe looking for a nice place to go and also trying to figure out how the pathfinder determines coordinates. I’ll probably be working on that instead of actually reflecting on my life tonight because exile I don’t want to think about my life anymore. Absolute dumpster fire of a life right there. 

    I think I’m in Paris? I can see that famous tower thing but let’s be real when we say that I’ve got no fucking clue where I am or how human society works. It could be some other ostentatious tower just to fuck with me in particular. 

    Anyway the time zones are really different between Sydney and wherever I am because I left right around dawn, and now it’s sundown. If I thought my sleep schedule was bad enough as it is, it’s about to get so much worse and I’m here for it. 

    I haven’t had any interactions with humans around here, and if I could, I would definitely try to avoid speaking to anyone about anything ever because we saw how well that went last time. Alas, I don’t trust myself enough for that to not be a possibility. 

    I’ll probably be bouncing to the next city in a couple of days. Maybe if I pick a new place often enough, no one will be able to find me. Maybe then I can stop hurting everyone around me. It won’t work, but it’s a nice possibility to think about. 

    I found a nice garden to loiter in for the next couple of days, and in the case that I get bothered by the legal authorities, I can just simply…leave. I could cause so many crimes on purpose. That bank heist plan doesn’t actually sound that unrealistic now that I’m genuinely considering it. I won’t, but it would be funny, and that’s the real measure of success. 

    You know what else is funny? I don’t, but someone across the street does. It’s much less overwhelming than it used to be and on the one hand, that’s a good thing because I don’t have a constant migraine, but it also means that I’m going to be fucked to exile in another couple of weeks, let alone centuries of this. Who am I kidding? There’s no way I’m making it centuries without Gisela finding me. I just need to hold out long enough that I’m not useful to her little schemes and machinations by the time she comes to collect her little unethical science experiment. 

    If I can’t solve the problem in its entirety, I’ll settle for being annoying. It’s gotten me this far which isn’t exactly a glowing endorsement, but it’s better than nothing, and that’s all I have. 

[elizabeaufort]

⏤ Introducing ELIZABETH BEAUFORT. Word on the street is they are a STRIPPER / MODEL, having been around for 4 YEARS. Though they are OBSESSIVE and COMPULSIVE, they can also be OPEN MINDED and GENEROUS. In the chaos of New York City, they’re sure to fit right in.

— BASICS

Name: elizabeth "lux" louise beaufort

Nickname(s): "lux" ( preferred nickname and stage name ), "liz, lizzie" ( family members only )

Age / D.O.B.: 30, July, 2nd 1994.

Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Female, she / her, heterosexual.

Hometown: Sydney, Australia

Affiliation: Civilian

Job position: retired Stripper @ GF / artist / performer/ model ( temporarily unemployed )

Education: Dropped out the second year of Arts and Media

Relationship status: dating Alexander Calder.

Children: 2 ( twins, beau and lilou age 2 ) + ( 2 in the oven )

Positive traits: (5) open mind, kind, patient, flexible, resilient

Negative traits: (5) obsessive, compulsive, impulsive, enigmatic, awkward

Personality:  INFP mediator

Height: 1,68m / 5'6" ft

— BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGER WARNINGS: murder, death, child abandonment

What happens when a French gardener Claude and a socialite divorced Estella became lovers? This is how Elizabeth came to the world. She was born in Australia, Sydney. Her grandparents by her mother side, wasn't thrilled with the news. But they tried to make it, their romance and their little family. At the age of 5, Elizabeth and her parents moved to U.S. seeking for the 'American dream'.

Arriving in the States, they tried to adapt to the new life, but Estella wasn't very happy. She misses her old life in Australia where she had everything and there had to battle to get her things. Eventually, the fights became constant, and Claude tried everything to fix it, although he didn't have the budget to give what his wife wanted.

When Elizabeth was 6 years old, her mother said she was going on a trip and would back. And she never back. She abandoned her, and her father. A few years later he signed the divorce paper she requested.

Years and years later, she met a guy named Jack, and the pair quickly became infatuated and rushed to a wedding (both needed money). He was a mechanic, and she wished to become an interior designer one day.

A tragedy of destiny came when her husband was brutally murdered, a few days before the twins were born. The killer mistook him with somebody else. He wasn't the target. After the death of her husband, it was hard to raise her children and she felt bad for all the effort her father was making for her, and his grandchildren. She did a lot of odd jobs to help her children and her father as well, this is when she met someone, who suggested her work in a club that was looking for new strippers and paid well.

She went to get information and decided to give it a shot. It was the fastest way to get money and paid well. At home, people are unaware of what she does for work, and she would rather things be kept this way. Her father helps her with the twins.

⏤ TLDR // TRIVIA HC

her mother abandoned her when she was a child.

her husband was murdered by mistake.

mother of two (twins) a boy and a girl named lilou, and beau, age 2.

her father helps her with the grandchildren

did a lot of odd jobs and still does some odd jobs

her twins are colorblind and both have heterochromia in their left eyes.

her father knows she is a stripper but he pretends he does not know it, and she pretends to her father that she does not work as a stripper either.

the twins aren't biological children from her late husband.

she still wishes to be an interior designer or work with media or have her own drink company.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS:

TUTOR. There were moments her father wasn't exactly fittable to take care of her, so this character probably was bestie of her father, and decided to take her under the wings when things get ugly in her household.

UNLIKELY FRIENDS: She is the rain of sunshine to y/m.

— TAKEN CONNECTIONS:

Acquainted: Tristan, Flynn

Close friends: Izara

Childhood friends: Beth

Clients: Hans

Her late husband's friends: Jack, Izara, Ric

Co-worker / Boss: Via

Parents friends: Korra

Ride and Die: Ric

Twins' Father: Alexander Calder.

[the-hazbeens]

BEHOLD: A plotted starter for @thehazbins from Sydney!

It was a quiet day for Sydney, seeing as he had nothing to do. Charlie hadn't planned for any redemption activities for the day, so he was taking the free time to roam the area surrounding the hotel. At this very moment he was quietly tending to a small plot of land he had recently taken up as a hobby. He was absolutely fascinated by the unusual flora and fauna of Hell— what little there was, anyway— and was gardening. Generally people tended to leave him to himself if he wasn't trying to interact. His residency in Hell was something that drove most away. By all accounts he SHOULDN'T be there, but he was. And this bothered a LOT of people. Only the ballsiest sinners dared approach him with the intent to harm. Not that it did much... He was intimidating when he wanted to be. After all, you don't get the nickname "The Hunter Demon" for nothing. His reputation for challenging the most deadly creatures on earth earned him that one. A hum escaped his lips as he gently tamped down on the soul around his most recent specimen. So far, the garden seemed to be going well!

[charlesandmartine]

Sunday 13th October 2024

Our apartment garden in the 'Heights' would not be advertised as large. Bijou might spring to mind, or an estate agent could describe it as 'easily maintained outdoor space'. Postage stamp just wouldn't be polite. However, it is a garden but one that is largely laid to lawn. We have never been convinced that Aussies are as obsessed about gardening as we are. Indeed somebody told us once that local authorities have an expectation that rear gardens were generally there to build another house on! The fact is that in cities such as Sydney, where land is at a premium and prohibitively expensive, most road fronting properties have a house built behind it. The houses facing the harbour and probably costing tens of millions of bucks will inevitably have one peeping over the top of it. All this leaves very little for a love of horticulture. Our little outdoor space is a division of the whole rear garden. The remaining garden exclusively for the use of the owners is almost entirely taken up by an irregular shaped swimming pool. Having said all that, springtime definitely brings out the best in whatever gardener spirit that does exist. Marigolds, pansies, geraniums, jasmine, bottlebrush, hibiscus are in full bloom; the sort of displays more common in our summers. Bird of paradise plants are prolific and exotic. We have not seen such colour here in summer/ autumn months on previous visits.

The blue skies soon arrived this morning, so after lunch we stepped off for the Spit along the coastal path. The Spit links the Northern Beaches to Mosman and then on to Sydney City Centre. The first bridge was completed and opened in 1924; there had been a steam punt operating across the Middle Harbour prior to the new bridge. However, when the Sydney Harbour Bridge opened in 1932, traffic increased to such an extent a new opening bridge was needed, and in 1958, the current bridge was completed and this is the one our bus rumbles across on route to the city.

Our walk was only approximately 10km but what with the ups and downs of the path, the absolutely gorgeous route took us about 3 hours. Fabulous lookout posts draw the gaze across the harbour to Manly in one direction and the deep blue of the Pacific the other. Beautiful highly expensive real estate have unrivalled, privileged harbour views and along the route are found protected historic aboriginal sites. When I say historic sites, call me a cynic but these are dirt scratchings of boomerangs, kangaroos and fish that certainly look the part, but I can't help thinking they might just be comparable to Trigger's new broom; I mean a little scratch here and a little scratch there from each generation and Bob's your uncle, looks the part but it's brand new. Anyway everyone goes along with it.

We passed through a little place called 40 Baskets. Its name originated when in 1885 a group of fishermen caught forty baskets of fish in the embayment off Forty Baskets Beach to feed a contingent of soldiers at Quarantine Station, who had just returned from war in Sudan. Well I guess that clears that up. Today it forms a great recreational space with access to the beach and sea.

Such a rewarding walk, and because we had been good and not had a coffee, ice-cream or beer, we allowed ourselves a little bus ride back to Balgowlah and hence to Coles for a few provisions. Unfortunately we then had the long hike back up to the 'Heights'! We might have had a beer and had done with it!

Tomorrow will be a busy day; it's Theatre Day!

ps. No sign yet of Christmas in the shops.

[duchessofvastergotland]

Full itinerary for the Crown Princess couple’s visit to Australia and New Zealand

Earlier this month it was announced that Victoria and Daniel would travel to Australia and New Zealand for their first joint overseas visit of 2023. The court have now confirmed the itinerary:

13th February (Canberra)

Visit to the Swedish Embassy in Canberra where they will meet with the Ambassador and Embassy staff

Welcome ceremony at the National Museum of Australia with local indigenous people and a tour of the museum

Visit to Namadgi National Park to learn about the impact of the 2020 wildfires

Dinner at the Governor General’s residence

14th February (Canberra and Sydney)

Visit to the National Arboretum to plant a tree

Climate meeting at the Australian National University followed by a seminar on energy security, with a speech from Victoria

Bilateral meetings with Australian ministers

Travel to Sydney for a reception at Government House

15th February (Sydney)

Attendance at the Sweden-Australia Sustainable Mining Summit

A guided tour of the Sydney Opera House

Visit to the botanic garden, including a viewing of a garden designed to mark World Pride

Visit to Saint Vincent’s Hospital which specialises in cancer care

Meeting with the Australian women’s national football team ahead of the 2023 World Cup

Evening reception for Swedish people in Australia at the Contemporary Art Museum

16th February (Wellington)

Visit to the National Museum Te Papa and view exhibition on nature, sustainability and traditional knowledge

Visit to Parliament for a meeting with the New Zealand-European Friendship Association

Bilateral meeting in the evening with representatives of the New Zealand government

17th February (Wellington)

Traditional Maori welcome ceremony at Wawhetu Maraeu

Meeting with young people ahead of the World Cup

Lunch at the Governor General's residence

Meeting on the electrification of the aviation industry

A guided tour of Zealandia Ecosanctuary, a protected natural area

Dinner at the residence of the Mayor of Wellington

18th February (Hamilton)

Visit to recycling plant Saveboard which recycles packaging and plastic waste to produce sustainable building materials

A guided tour of the Maori section of the Hamilton Gardens

Visit to a dairy producer to learn about sustainability efforts in the dairy sector in New Zealand and potential collaborations with Sweden

[hollywoodfamerp]

WELCOME TO THE NASHVILLE OPRYLAND HOTEL! 

Experience the energy and excitement of Nashville, Tennessee – the Music City. On the banks of the Cumberland River, this landmark hotel is just a short drive or riverboat cruise from downtown Nashville’s historic attractions and nightlife. 2 of the city’s most popular attractions - the world-famous Grand Ole Opry and General Jackson Showboat – are conveniently located next door to the resort. Inside lies an extraordinary selection of dining, shopping, live entertainment and recreation options that provide the perfect destination. You'll be amazed at the 9-acres of indoor gardens, cascading waterfalls and indoor river with its very own Delta River flatboats. Discover Gaylord Opryland and make memories. You won't believe what they have under one roof!

UNDER THE CUT, YOU’LL FIND THE LIST OF ROOMMATES!

Due to an issue with the booking system at the hotel, it seems the roommates have all been mixed up. Was it the hotel? Or those pesky gossip blog hosts looking for drama? Guess we will never know... enjoy your stay, partners! 

PLEASE LIKE THIS NOTICE WHEN YOU HAVE READ IT AND SO THAT YOU CAN KEEP TRACK OF THE LIST UPDATES!

Pamela Martinez (Bayley) - Kelsea Ballerini Joshua Hong - Lili Reinhart Ariana Grande - Bill Skarsgård Mark Lee - Sabrina Carpenter Tom Holland - Zendaya Coleman Wong Yukhei (Lucas Wong) - Margot Robbie Timothée Chalamet - Lupita Nyong'o Kim Hongjoong - Beyonce Knowles Austin Butler - Vanessa Hudgens Chace Crawford - Elizabeth Olsen Alex Torres (Quackity) - Maia Mitchell Jung Wooyoung - Sarah Drew Tyler Hoechlin - Lucy Hale Louis Tomlinson - Jenna Ortega Natalia Dyer - Joe Keery Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul (Ten) - Maika Monroe Kim Mingyu - Sarah Paulson Jeon Jungkook - Blake Lively Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) -  Kim Jongin (Kai) Harry Styles - Taylor Swift Anya Taylor-Joy - Elizabeth Gillies Selena Gomez - Gigi Hadid Chris Evans - Tessa Thompson Choi San - Kim Ahyoung (Yura) Min Yoongi - Samantha Gibb Stephen Amell - Emily Bett Rickards Lee Sunmi - Kang Seulgi Colby Lopez (Seth Rollins) - Emily Osment Zoey Deutch - Florence Pugh Christian Yu - Brittany Baker (Britt Baker) Pedro Pascal - Jennifer Morrison Byun Baekhyun - Shay Mitchell Demi Lovato - Dua Lipa Hwang Hyunjin - Diamanté Quiava Valentin Harper (Saweetie) Nick Robinson - Maya Hawke Bruno Mars - Maura Higgins Leati Joseph Anoa'i (Roman Reigns) - Madelaine Petsch Brett Tucker - Demi Bennett (Rhea Ripley) Kim Namjoon - Camila Morrone Lee Taeyong - Camila Mendes Andy Biersack - Mazz Murray Dylan O'Brien - Adelaide Kane Harry Kane - Meghann Fahy Renee Paquette (Renee Young) - Sarah Hyland Jackson Wang - Emma Stone Geoff Wigington - Sana Minatozaki Otto Wood - Anna Kendrick Sebastian Stan - Jessica Chastain Sam Claflin - Ashley Elizabeth Fliehr (Charlotte Flair) Gareth Southgate - Jessica Lange Tyler Alvarez - Cate Blanchett Lee Felix - Kim Minjeong (Winter) Zac Efron - Perrie Edwards Ross Lynch - Yoo Jimin (Karina) Carrie Underwood - Lee Taemin Jonathan Good (Jon Moxley) - Zoe Kravitz Gong Jichul (Gong Yoo) - Dylan Sprouse Myoi Mina - Molly-Mae Hauge Choi Soobin - Sydney Sweeney Mason Mount - Brittany Snow Joe Burrow - Julianna Margulies Kim Jungwoo - Kim Jisoo Choi Minho - Rachel Weisz Akanishi Jin -  Colin O’Donoghue Lee Minho (Lee Know) - Megan Jovon Ruth Pete (Megan Thee Stallion) Xiao Dejun (Xiaojun) - Kaia Gerber Awsten Knight - Madelyn Cline Park Seonghwa - Hailee Steinfeld Miley Cyrus - Chris Hemsworth Mercedes Justine Varnado (Sasha Banks) -   Rebecca Quin (Becky Lynch)   Bella Poarch - Ana De Armas Yoo Siah (YooA) - Lauren Jauregui Jensen Ackles - Katherine McNamara Grace Van Dien - Christopher Bang (Bang Chan) Lily James - Jung Yoonoh (Jaehyun) Wong Kunhang (Hendery) - James Lafferty Kim Taehyung - Halle Bailey

[vergess]

TS4 blogging

There's technical in fandom terminology for all of this but I don't know it, sorry for being a cringefailwaifu or what have you.

I am trying to keep a family alive for 10 generations of short lifespans. This is a known style of play, but IDK the word.

Anyway, I'm on Gen 7, it's going so good, I just wanted to note everything down before I forget.

Gen 1 (founding family):

I decided to populate the world with rainbow pastel sims, and began play with a werewolf version of @arionwind, who ultimately bred out with a pink pastel sim. Conveniently, because werewolves can achieve immortal status, this Ari sim is still alive.

Meanwhile, the pink sim turned out to be a witch, a genetic trait allowing the character to use cheat codes "in universe" as magic.

This meant all children would be either genetic witches or genetic werewolves.

Gen 2 (banananananana):

The first child of G1 would ultimately be our throughline. Because of my exceedingly, violently modified game settings, this one came out a trans man autonomously on age up, so that's fun. Although born with human skin, I modified him to have pastel yellow, beginning a trend throughout the subsequent generations of picking a theme color for all of the kids skin, hair and eyes in a generation. All other genetics were left unmodified.

His name was Syrene and he was the first one to be named Serrano as well. A real trendsetter, he determined a lot of things about future generations' play styles.

He also had 7 children, including 2 sets of twins. My man was Never Not Pregnant.

He was so happy about being a parent that he funded the family money tree, which rapidly became the primary source of income in the game. A money tree is a garden object you can buy with reward points for making your sim happy. At higher levels, it pays 22,500 dollars a day.

He personally funded 3 of them.

Cheerful as fuck.

Gen 3 (grape):

Ultimately I elected to follow the youngest of the younger set of twins, Rori. Her twin, Augustin, was the last natural born werewolf in the family line, as he never had children himself. However, he remained Rori's close friend throughout her life.

Rori sired many children in her life as a world travelling magical duelist, and ultimately raised a handful of them while paying double child support to the rest.

Gen 4 (bluet):

The 5th of Rori's children, a retiring homebody who ran off to a rural village when she got pregnant. She spent her life making Unusually Strong Potions due to sims of this generation and later having the Ancient Bloodline trait. She also raised llamas and kitted a lot.

A very chill woman overall, which makes the Dramatics of her child... impressive.

Gen 5 (brown on brown IDK she was born very pretty but not very fruity):

Maricela Serrano, you beautiful bitch.

Maricela died at her adult birthday of Having Too Much Fun, a known cause of death in the game.

She had recently, as in the day before, finished marrying her wife, Sidney Lalonde, of the Newcrest Lalondes (when I first populated the game in gen 1, I put in a homestuck house on an unused map and forgot about it entirely until this point).

Because both were born with the double fertility trait (heavily modded game!) both of them were able to sire and carry children over the course of their engagement, and ultimately they had 6 children together. And oh man, what children they were, raised by the ghost of a dead mom, and an Actual Lunatic Immortal Witch because oops somewhere along the way Sydney drank an immortality potion.

Gen 6 (peachy teens!):

The eldest, Romeo. The twins Viola and Sebastien. The twins Lady and Othello. And the youngest, Ariel.

Of them, Ariel quickly seemed the loveliest and the most worth pursuing genetically, however, Ariel proved the first of a dramatic calamity about to befall the family line.

Although both Maricela and Sidney were witches, Ariel proved to have no magical ability. So I set them up to be a comedy focused NPC and moved on to Othello.

Othello was an over acheiver (which is a type of teenager you can play, with specific goals) who quickly graduated high school and entered college as a teen, a thing I did not know you could do in this game until he did it.

This is of critical importance.

He went to college and on the FIRST. NIGHT. AFTER. CLASS.

He died of studying too much in the library. His brain exploded into computer symbols.

In addition to not knowing teens could go to college I also did not know they could die.

I relented to my next backup, Lady. Lady is a mean, evil, romantic sim and almost immediately dies of being too angry, another known cause of death in the game.

I am rapidly running out of peachy teens!!!!!!

I fall back to Romeo, who is at this point an adult with the goal of becoming world famous, so I make him an actor and off we go.

As part of the bit, I have him sire as many kids as possible. Every time an NPC asks to date him, he knocks them up and breaks up with them immediately. He did this himself the first 2 times, but I make it an enforced rule from then on.

He gets world famous, becomes old, and decides to meet his many children.

Gen 7 (cherry red and spring green):

All of Romeo's children were born without magic, so I picked the prettiest one and had her run away to live at the beach. She became a mermaid because I think they are pretty.

She lived an extremely uninteresting life of being a B list youtuber and raising her only child, a daughter she had via IVF with her best friend from high school.

Super chill, very normal.

Gen 8 (strawberry pink and dark green):

No idea why her child came out human and evil, but that happened. Anyway, while bringing Romeo's gravestone to the family graveyard, Sidney (the immortal Lalonde) was just like, "hey Siobhan, stand still, you're a witch now."

So I guess my vague plans of making her be a vampire are over, since you can only be one kind of magic thing at a time.

But she can still be a supervillain so that's fun!

And that's where we're at.

[destinygoldenstar]

Fusing Total Drama Characters In Sims 4 (Part 2)

I’m fusing Total Drama characters in Sims 4 using the genetic mechanic.

Why?

I don’t flipping know. Why not?

I’m gonna do EVERY pairing possible. This post is just gonna be however long Tumblr allows for images.

So let’s just get into it.

I’m using my own TD Sims for this. They’re in the Gallery if you want them. As well as all these pairings and sims that get generated. So what you want.

Gwen + Heather

Two queens. This should make two good sims.

I mean I would hope so.

Let’s see what Sims comes up with…

Okay. WOW.

We got two W’s here.

The girl really does look fashionable as Heather, and her pants match Heathers crop top. The shows don’t match though, so it’s a 9/10.

The boy not only got generated with the teal hair, but he got generated with a matching shirt for that teal hair. Actually, his entire outfit matches.

Is he buff? We got a buff kid?

The girls name is Grace. She’s an art lover & a genius.

I love her, actually

The boys name is Nash. He’s adventurous & loves the outdoors.

He sounds perfect for Total Drama.

Gwen + Duncan

You know I have to do this.

I know a lot of people hate this ship.

But we gotta do it.

Let’s see the punk kids and get it over with…

Oh god…

Who are you people?!?!

The boy has Duncan’s exact body type. He inherited the short legs.

(Well, as close to that as you can get with Sims)

But he’s… fine. He might actually be kinda handsome.

The girl is shit. I’m sorry. She looks awful. Nothing matches. She’s wearing a gardening hat. And she’s a dirty blonde. WHERE did you get blonde hair from?!

Are one of these two secretly blonde and I don’t know it?!

The boys name is Ace. He’s a dance machine & paranoid.

Actually, that does sound like a name Gwen & Duncan would put on the table.

The girls name is Fernanda. She’s loyal & a dance machine.

First hilarious thing is that they’re both dance machines. Second is the idea that a Gwen & Duncan offspring has loyal as a trait.

Gwen + Leshawna

Another round of queens.

Let’s see…

Huh…

That is very interesting indeed.

(I changed her outfit for a brief second to see what her hair looked like)

We got the mixed race. The girl is wearing a raincoat and idk why.

But she is actually pretty.

The boy…

“You sir, are one pretentious hipster”

Idk if I’m weirded out or in love with it.

The girls name is Misty. She’s self assured & hates children.

The boys name is Jagger. He’s creative & a slob.

Yep. Definitely a hipster.

Gwen + Geoff

Here’s these two.

Crazy knowing that the original storyboards had them as a couple.

Let’s see what Sims comes up with…

Yeah. What I expected. Especially the boy.

They definitely have personality. I love that the girl got dyed hair. And… she’s buff??? Okay, slay.

The guy looks like Geoff’s kid for sure.

The boys name is Nehemiah. He’s a practice makes perfect & an animal enthusiast.

I think ‘practice makes perfect’ is a newer trait they added. I haven’t actually tried it for any of my sims yet.

The girls name is Constance. She’s a music lover & erratic.

Gorgeous name. And she sounds like a character.

Gwen + Izzy

Here’s my Izzy Sim. First time seeing her.

I headcanoned this one quite a bit. She’s hairy. She’s got marks. She’s buff. And she’s wild.

This is gonna be the last one for today.

This is gonna go either well or horribly.

Let’s see what Sims comes up with…

Okay yep. Disaster XD

I mean, the girl looks okay. I’ll give her that.

The boy is a hot mess. Mismatch all around. And he has TWO nose rings.

Even Duncan didn’t go that far.

The boys name is Ian. He’s materialistic & a child of the islands.

I mean I’ll give him this, he sounds like he’s fit right in to Total Drama.

The girls name is Sydney. She’s outgoing & evil.

And there’s our first evil kid of this game.

There’s our season main villain right there.

Say these generated sims were on a team on a show. What’s their team name?

[s41nt-b3rn4rd]

Tumblr won't let me put a read more on the orginal ask but, HELLO? HI?? I THOUGHT I HAD ANON OFF????? Yes hi I have ocs. My current favorites are like- 5 out of... so many. They'll be under the "read more" because there's alot about them. I'm normal I prommy.

Also potato if you see this, hi. {remember to read the tags for sillies}

In order of who im (SADLY) Hyperfixated on, it goes;

* Sasha {Bulleteer Aaron} , in canon she's an ex-boxer that now works at a tattoo parlor and shares an apartment with a demon she summoned while on a wine binge. She's mixed with Russian+Irish+Icelandic+Mexican heritage but grew up mainly with her Irish and Mexican heritage. She's a disaster panace who can't be picky at this point- Sasha just wants someone who she can come home to at the end of the day, and talk to like a normal person. Does she count as a villain? I hope so. She killed a small family in nebraska once. In a story/rp, she used to be the ambassador for a kingdom but settled down as a butcher. She got burn scars from it for being a #girlboss and they stayed canon. * Sydney {Witherstone Appleton} , in canon their a demon that got summoned BY Sasha. She works at a diner, but mainly lives to annoy Sasha by giving her "water curses" and "sleepy spells" which is just him staring at Sasha until she takes care of herself. Notice how Sydney has multiple pronouns! Because in my lil' oc universe- demons don't have genders. Hell is seperate by everyones own depiction and in mine- it's just.. bland. normal. Sometimes the current ruler throws parties, that's fun. You can get a gender if you want, healthcare and stuff is free. ANYWAYS- Sydney is so normal it HURTS me. It just wants to fucking get groceries, pay bills and leave. BTW they commited tax fraud but shhhh we don't have to talk about that. BTW 2 THEY ALSO KEEP IN CONTACT WITH THEIR FAMILY- HER FAMILY * Matthew {NO MIDDLENAME NOR LASTNAME}. You know that funny meme of what happens if a centaur and a mermaid have a kid?? Yeah he's that. He's basically like, a generic guy- minus his bull ears and the horn's he's growing and his ability to speak underwater and breathe underwater. In canon he used to be like- a leutanint general but now he works at a light-house. He's a weed smoking girlfriend despite being a gnc acearo man with chronic leg pain. also lung pain. In the rp he was made for, he was surprisingly the least problematic. All he did was stress knit- I'm pretty sure he got the job BECAUSE he was just! some guy! He does have horrors though. And by "horrors" I mean he grew up (and out of) the orphanage so he has little to no knowledge about his parents, chooses to stay silent/nonverbal throughout his life so his sentence forming SUCKS- he lives is life in a cycle, can barely cook nor fold laundry. To cope though, he knits and likes to sneak into gardens and revive dead/dieing plants via necromancy. BTW he grew up in the same orphanage as Sasha and they have a blood pact. If one gets hurt, so does the other. * The Asker {that's it's name}. Me and my bestie for life have an ask game with eachother, where our ocs ask eachother questions, and that's my silly little guy for it!! Funnily enough, it was based on anon asks, but eventually evolved into it's own thing. It used to live in an empty black void- with bright computer lights illuminating it's small area of safety, and a single keyboard with oh so many letters and such. But RECENTLY, that fuck ESCAPED!!! JAIL BREAK!!!!! And is currently living in the basement of a motel because "oh my god is this the outside why is it bright why is it loud oh my god oh my god [THEIR] going to [DECOMMISSION ME]." #slay, y'know? Don't worry though, it'll get a job at like- walgreens or walmart and live in a normal ass neighborhood soon. * Sammy {Picture}. Once again, another oc made for an RP that I absolutely FELL IN LOVE WITH!! He's an object-head with one of those rotary phones for a head, but more pathetic looking and kinda like a bug, but it's okay. He's a preschool teacher and admires his job. He has a situationship thing with the person who he shares an apartment with- a soap rabbit humanoid named Bob, that is also a substitute history teacher. Anyways remember the bug thing? Yeah. Sammy used to be a catipillar centaur but someone fucking robbed its grave when he died. BTW Sammy was a catipillar in this sense

and therefor he's very colorful. he's a pathetic meow meow but he's also said the most ominous insults ever. He's my favorite bc I like to imagine him doing the most boring tasks like drinking water. He does his taxes btw. Their my only oc who willingly does its taxes.

[healerqueen]

50 Favorite Children’s Books

Inspired by Studio Ghibli director Hayao Miyazaki’s list of his earliest literary influences. This list is limited to books I read in childhood or youth. 50 Childhood Favorites

Caddie Woodlawn and sequel by Carol Ryrie Brink

Winter Cottage by Carol Ryrie Brink

The Saturdays, The Four-Story Mistake, and sequels by Elizabeth Enright

Enemy Brothers by Constance Savery

The Reb and the Redcoats by Constance Savery

Carry On, Mr. Bowditch by Jean Lee Latham

Derwood, Inc. by Jeri Massi

A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder

Heidi by Joanna Spyri

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

Understood Betsy by Dorothy Canfield Fisher

The Wheel on the School by Meindert De Jong

All-of-a-Kind Family by Sydney Taylor

Family Grandstand by Carol Ryrie Brink

Baby Island by Carol Ryrie Brink

Cheaper By the Dozen and sequel by Frank B. Gilbreth, Jr. and Ernestine Gilbreth Carey

Rebecca’s War by Ann Finlayson

The Lost Baron by Allen French

Snow Treasure by Marie McSwigan

Number the Stars by Lois Lowry

The Winged Watchman by Hilda Van Stockum

A Single Shard by Linda Sue Park

By the Great Horn Spoon by Sid Fleischman

Captive Treasure by Milly Howard

Toliver’s Secret by Esther Wood Brady

Silver for General Washington by Enid LaMonte Meadowcroft

Emil’s Pranks by Astrid Lindgren

Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH by Robert C. O’Brien

Hitty: Her First Hundred Years by Rachel Field

Twenty-One Balloons by William Pene du Bois

Freddy the Detective and Freddy the Pig series by Walter R. Brooks

The Cricket in Times Square by George Selden

Mr. Popper’s Penguins by Robert Lawson

Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White

The Borrowers by Mary Norton

The Wombles by Elisabeth Beresford

Homer Price by Robert McCloskey

The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin

Winnie-the-Pooh by A.A. Milne

Sir Cumference and the Dragon of Pi by Cindy Neuschwander and Wayne Geehan

Tuesdays at the Castle by Jessica Day George

The Bridge and Crown and Jewel by Jeri Massi

The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis

The Gammage Cup by Carol Kendall

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien

The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart

The City of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau

Young Adult:

The Eagle of the Ninth and other books by Rosemary Sutcliff

The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth George Speare

The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien

Ranger’s Apprentice by John Flanagan

Dragon Slippers by Jessica Day George

Buffalo Brenda by Jill Pinkwater

The Arrival by Shaun Tan

Small Steps: The Year I Got Polio by Peg Kehret (a nonfiction memoir)

Picture Books:

Make Way for Ducklings and other books by Robert McCloskey

Go, Dog, Go by P.D. Eastman

Sam and the Firefly by P.D. Eastman

Robert the Rose Horse by Joan Heilbroner

Ice-Cream Larry by Daniel Pinkwater

Mr. Putter and Tabby by Cynthia Rylant

Discovered as an Adult: Seesaw Girl by Linda Sue Park

The Ordinary Princess by M.M. Kaye

The Armourer’s House by Rosemary Sutcliff

Urchin of the Riding Stars and the Mistmantle Chronicles by M.I. McAllister

Princess Academy by Shannon Hale

Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes

Escape to West Berlin by Maurine F. Dahlberg

Listening for Lions by Gloria Whelan

The Angel on the Square by Gloria Whelan

Courage in Her Hands by Iris Noble

Knight’s Fee by Rosemary Sutcliff

Victory at Valmy (Thunder of Valmy) by Geoffrey Trease

Word to Caesar (Message to Hadrian) by Geoffrey Trease

The Letter for the King by Tonke Dragt

The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner

The Reluctant Godfather by Allison Tebo

Seventh City by Emily Hayse

Escape to Vindor by Emily Golus

Valiant by Sarah McGuire

The Secret Keepers by Trenton Lee Stewart

[ourlordapollo]

Pokémon Gym Leader Theory of Characterizing OCs

I wrote this for me, sharing it because I need to get it out of my brain. Target audience: people who can name more than like 6 Gym Leaders/Elite Four and their personalities (games, not anime), and are also not that good at characterizing their OCs (AKA me)

By that I mean, you can list a couple personality traits or interests, but when it comes time to actually write the character, you find you actually have no idea what they would do or say

Premise 1: Every single Pokémon Type has an associated General Personality Type

Example: Water Type specialists tend to be elegant and classy (Wallace, Juan, Siebold), Fire specialists tend to be (sigh) fiery (Flint, Flannery, Blaine). You get the idea.

Premise 2: Almost every single Gym Leader and Elite Four member has a hobby, job, or interest. Some of these are straightforward (Larry is a foodie, Koga is a ninja, Brawly likes to surf) and some are more abstract (Morty is... training some sort of ghostly extrasensory powers, Sydney appears to be some sort of delinquent, Wikstrom.... is some sort of full-time Shakespearian LARPer?)

Premise 3: It is extremely easy to write believable fic about these characters, because these two main traits, Type-Personality and Interest (also fialogue, but we'll get to that). Note that the vast majority of these characters never interact with each other in canon, yet it is incredibly easy to imagine them doing so, and shipping characters who never interact is common and popular. From these two traits alone, you can create a baseline for what feels in-character and what doesn't.

The Theory: If you are having trouble characterizing an OC, you need to identify what their Type speciality would be and at least one hobby.

Dialogue: You can then use this information to work outwards: If your character was a Gym Leader, how would they introduce themself? What would they say upon losing? Pokémon characters tend to speak in puns and references to their Type. While game dialogue is a little much for contemporary adult fiction, knowing how your character sees the world is the biggest factor in interiority (imo). What do they make metaphors about? What do they notice about the world around them? Exaggerating it now will help you scale it back later.

Pitfall: Don't assume that hobbies and Type-Personalities must be related. A Fighting specialist doesn't have to be a martial artists, and vice versa.

Case Study: Let's say Skippy is an Electric specialist and a gardener. The Electric personality type is often fast and energetic, and gardening is typically slow and methodical work. How do you reconcile these things? Maybe Skippy is an impatient person trying to find a way to speed up the process of gardening and make it more efficient. Maybe they have a hidden zen side that only comes out when they garden. Maybe they want to be a track star and are only doing gardening out of obligation. By marrying these two things which are seemingly at odds, you create a character with some level of depth.

Anyway, this method is meant to start you (well, me, actually) on the path of creating a character. Gym Leaders are notoriously static and generally have no character arcs or any outstanding morals outside of "the bad guys are bad!" (with Malva being a notable exception), so creating an arc and a backstory will take considerably more work.