#If you do end up having any other questions pertaining to these two and my opinions/readings or anything else‚ do always feel free to shoot

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Between Sonic and Tails, who do you think would end up confessing their feelings first?

Good question. Definitely depends upon the iteration and context, but for the most part (at least in my head) getting either of them to confess (and in some cases even ruminate on their feelings and admit to themselves the nature of them) is hard

Like, for example, I personally think that game!Sonic (and post sgw Archie Sonic and IDW Sonic) kind of take Tails' presence for granted in a way. To them, it will always be the two of them (Sonic and Tails). The ideal future is that they keep on hanging out and still fight side by side sometimes and that even if Sonic goes it alone he can always come back from his adventures to chill with Tails or crash at his place. In other words, in Sonic's fantasies of the future, things like getting married or raising families or anything like that are just kind of tacked on as something that will just kind of be true at best and ignored at worst. If he even considers a future where things are a bit different because Tails is together™ with someone, to him it's only natural that Tails would be in his life the same way and nothing would really change. And so to that end, even if Sonic DOES realize his own feelings, he probably wouldn't see any good reason to confess. It would make things more complicated, especially if Tails doesn't share those feelings, and he doesn't have to worry anyways because Tails will always prioritize the two of them and be at his side, right?

And then it's even worse for versions of Sonic more akin to, say, pre sgw Archie Sonic. This is because in addition to the already existing unwillingness to change things and the assumption that he doesn't ever have to worry about no longer being the center of Tails' world (or a major figure in it at least), there is some palpable internalized homophobia within that hedgehog with an added complexity. For Archie Sonic in particular, I think even if he realized that he wanted to even be with Tails forever in a strictly non brothers fashion, he would feel mixed feelings about that (perhaps that coming out about it would ruin things or make things weird, or that getting together with Tails at any point would deprive him of "normalcy", or that he'd pressured Tails into it, or even just weird or a bit creepy).

As for Tails, I actually think that most iterations of him have figured their feelings out by this point. In all honesty, there's only so long you can go on fixating on someone and admiring them, and structuring your life around them before you realize your "I want to be with them" isn't just about simply admiring them. It's just that Tails' main obstacle to me is the avoidance of ruining anything.

On one hand, there's Sonic's avoidance to being tied down. We've seen time and time again Sonic rejecting people who pursue him openly or looking uncomfortable with them. Archie Sonic in particular made it clear that this version of Sonic couldn't stand the idea of not being able to freely be himself or adventure. He couldn't stand the idea of having to tie himself down and taking on extra responsibilities and expectations simply because he's with someone. I can see Tails being afraid that by confessing, he could scare Sonic away. If he happened to confess and Sonic thought Tails meant to stifle him or Sonic felt uncomfortable by that open expression, wouldn't that risk their relationship? Even if Sonic wouldn't go so far as to drop him as a best friend (which he never would do that for the record), there's still real fear in making things weird or different between himself and Sonic.

And that feeds right into the other hand. On the other hand, Sonic probably doesn't see him that way, right? Though Sonic is special to him and Sonic also cares for him back, at best Sonic has never thought about it and never will, or he just wouldn't feel the same (in Tails' eyes). With Archie Tails in particular, even if Tails gets over his own interlized homophobia about it and recognizes his feelings for what they are, he probably feels that there's no way to be anything different than a brother to Sonic, and thus confessing would be a terrible move. If Tails confesses and Sonic doesn't feel the same, it also runs the risk of making things weird between them or (in Tails' eyes) ruining it.

All this to say that my general opinion is that as long as things stay exactly the way they are forever, even if they start spending even more time together, I find it hard to believe either of the two will opt into confessing on purpose

But, with that being said, a confession is not an impossibility. I don't think either of the two are immune to being put in a position where they finally confess (and no, with the state of things for them, simply saying "I love you" will not count as a confession). And if we barred situations where like. They're literally about to die or one can do anything they like without the other (or themselves) remembering the outcome, I actually can give you an answer

And honestly, if one of them had to confess eventually, I believe it would probably end up being Sonic.

Why? Well, out of the two, Tails actually sits back and thinks about his emotions more often than not. I think even before he figured out the exact nature of his feelings he knew he felt very strongly for Sonic. But, no matter which media you're touching upon, I feel as if Tails fits into that archetype of "person who has been in love with their best friend since literally forever, but knows their best friend will never feel the same". The longer Tails ruminates on these feelings, the stronger he feels them, the more he watches Sonic (especially as someone who cares about plenty of people other than him), the more time he spends with Sonic, the less incentivized he feels to actually confess. Especially if Sonic would never feel the same, the best Tails can hope for is that things stay the same between them and Sonic never replaces his role.

Or in short, Tails is so in his head about it at this point, it's very hard to convince him that confessing is ever a good idea or necessary.

But while Tails is more obviously attached to Sonic, Sonic is much less obviously attached to Tails and other people as a whole. With him being "free as the wind" and the kind of figure he is, he kind of benefits from having the persona of a guy who doesn't need his friends but (nevertheless) can be assisted by them. He probably seems cool for being so strong and independent while equally caring that people live. But this doesn't mean Sonic doesn't have attachments (far from it). Rather, for Sonic, his attachments to others seem to naturally grow. And the more time he spends with them, the more he grows used to their presence. And especially with someone like Tails, who has been around as his companion the longest, he doesn't sit around long enough to consider that Tails would ever leave his side. Once he grows used to that person, he doesn't have to recognize his attachment or even think about the nature of his own feelings because it is and always has been whatever it is. So, in other words, even if he becomes more and more reliant on the fact that Tails will always be around or that Tails will always assist him, he doesn't have to admit more than "This is what our best friendship is. This is what it's like"

All of this is to say that while my idea of present Tails would be trying to do anything in his power to stay with Sonic (as long as Sonic is willing of course), even if that means never confessing the exact nature of his feelings for the hedgehog, Sonic isn't already thinking about these things. This means that while Tails has very few pathways to confession, Sonic has plenty!...if you scare him well enough.

For example, Idw Sonic has been more clearly spending more time with Tails (even baseline just. Crashing at his place more often) after the metal virus arc. Couple this with post neo metal incident 2 electric boogaloo idw Sonic who just wants to have a break and live peacefully for a minute, this is a Sonic who has become scared enough to want to indulge in spending more time with Tails. I also think that post Sonic Prime Sonic is also a version of him who would start to spend more time with Tails than before after having already lost him and having to deal with the Tails shaped hole in his life once.

So, if you got a Sonic to the point where he'd fully accepted his feelings and he felt like confessing them would be necessary to secure the future he wants, then he'd confess. Honestly, the easiest way I'd see this going about would be a story where Tails is framed as leaving him to go do something or be somewhere else, away for Sonic, possibly indefinitely, or if Sonic actually has to spend enough time without Tails after initially telling himself his own feelings wouldn't matter so long as Tails is happy wherever he is. But, if it came down to confessing being something that might actually bring Sonic to his desired future (especially if Tails rejecting him is no different from prolonging the separation they already have if he says nothing), then I think he could work up the courage to do it.

And in the end...I think it has to be Sonic. Although I on occasion enjoy fantasizing about moments where Tails can't take it anymore and confesses, only for Sonic to realize his own feelings in the process, I think that Sonic would have to be the one who confesses his feelings/wishes for the future for Tails to even believe that his pipe dreams are a possibility. I think it's Sonic who would need to pull Tails out of his head, because the probability that Tails works up the courage to confess is more unlikely.

So...yeah. In my head, Sonic is driven to a point where he confesses and pulls Tails out of his head about it.

[headspace-hotel]

An attempt at summarizing the controversies that embroil mycorrhizal network research:

a bunch of scientists are miffed at how the media has taken "plants communicate and distribute nutrients through the mycorrhizal network" and run with it, finding the "mother tree" thing too anthropomorphizing and too presumptive about something very poorly understood

unfortunately all of the major models for understanding the mycorrhizal network are anthropomorphizing, even the more competition-centered ones...to the point that papers discuss whether the network is a "capitalist" or a "socialist" system

other researchers, screaming STOP USING LOADED TERMS THAT PROMOTE AN ANTHROPOCENTRIC INTERPRETATION

But, setting aside the question of whether trees can "intentionally" do something or be altruistic...how do we know the plant is the one in control? Are the trees "sending" nutrients or is the fungus taking the nutrients and sending them to other trees? Wait, how do we assign agency in a system like this at all? Isn't it unscientific to assume that any part of the system, fungus or plant, is consciously acting? Wait...are they actually separate organisms with their own interests, or is it more accurate to view all the members of a mycorrhizal network as one big super-organism? (Wait, is it anthropomorphizing to consider organisms as having interests? If yes, how do we describe what's happening using language?)

Basically, yes we have demonstrated and established that nutrients move from one plant to another plant in the mycorrhizal network, including from fully grown trees to saplings, plants in sunlight to shaded plants, and other things that are definitely fun to interpret as one plant "helping" the weaker plant. However, we don't actually know the intentions of plants, so for all we know, the fungus could be doing everything. Or it could be completely stupid to describe any of it as "one individual organism in the network Intentionally Does A Thing."

Big Problem: Although a shit ton of research is being done, most research in the mycorrhizal network is done on very simple networks of 1 or 2 plant species with a handful of selected fungal inoculants in otherwise sterile laboratory settings. These conditions do not reflect the natural world at all.

in fact, experimental conditions used to study mycorrhizal networks are mostly completely unlike anything that would ever exist...you know, Outside,

most of the research pertains to agriculture and there are many demonstrated benefits, and many farmers are ALREADY using methods to promote mycorrhizal networks, but my guess is that it's not as simple as matching crops up to fungal inoculants that help them for instant 20% yield increase, at least in Real Outdoor Soil with an existing microbiome and seed bank.

Roughly speaking, 50% of mycorrhizal associations benefit seedling establishment, and the remaining 50% are themselves split halfway between "no effect" and "negative effect." Doesn't this mean that the mycorrhizal network is not always chill and altruistic?

Well, those findings might mean absolutely nothing either way, since in a field-setting plant community, there are dozens if not hundreds of fungi species (the diversity and number of specialists increases in later-successional communities) that are part of the mycorrhizal network, and through them any given seedling might be linked to a thousand different plants.

Some researchers find it puzzling how so many mycorrhizal partnerships seem to have no effect. Maybe the effect only comes online in certain conditions?

Parasitism, mutualism and commensalism aren't fixed types of relationship, and two partners in the mycorrhizal network can and do switch between the three constantly. This is another problem: the experiments don't usually follow both partners in a plant-fungal pairing to the end of their natural lives, and it's been shown that a fungus can be mutualistic early in a plant's life and later on become more parasitic (for example). Or that a fungus can be beneficial in poor soil conditions and become parasitic in rich soil conditions.

But...is this really best understood as a situational switch between types of symbiosis, or can we judge it by the net effect on both partners throughout their life spans, or...my brain is breaking

Like, a fungus that mostly decreases the fitness of the host plant, BUT becomes very helpful in the presence of extreme drought...is it a parasite or mutualistic partner?

Some researchers lean toward a source-sink model where nutrients tend to flow toward plants that are most lacking and away from plants with most abundance. This is a rough approximation of something ridiculously complicated

Plants can and do select fungal partners to pair with and reject fungi that contribute fewer benefits.

Fungi also appear capable of selectively distributing resources based on the fitness of the host, or at least they did this one experiment where the fungus was connected to two different trees and researchers ripped all the leaves off one of the trees. This caused the fungus to divert its nutrient flow to the undamaged tree (throwing in its lot with the tree most likely to survive). However, we're not sure if this would happen in a forest or other natural plant community, since in the lab, the fungus was totally dependent on the two trees for survival and there were no other participants in the network. So basically, it's kinda like those behavior studies on captive wolves?

[breakyourrxles]

❥classifieds (m)

↳ Stumbling upon a tossed out android in the park across the way from your place is one thing, but catching feelings for him? Well, that’s a whole other issue entirely, now isn’t it?

lee juyeon x afab!reader — chobits!au, fluff, awkward romance, angst with a happy ending, gratuitous sexual content, porn with plot [15.4k wc] cws: ethical/moral dilemmas pertaining to android sentience, sex under the influence of alcohol. sexual content: juyeon has a big dick and fucks like a pornstar because he is not strapped to normal mortal confines, penetrative sex (unprotected), (a lot) dirty talk, wet and messy.

With your cell phone shrugged up against your cheek as you lug a large, tied off garbage bag down two flights of stairs on account of the elevator being out of order, you can't help but feel somewhat discontented by the gentle huffs of laughter coming through from your friend on the other end of the line.

"You really gotta get out of that dump, it's so long past time now."

Sighing, you finally reach the lowest level of the apartment building, and with an aggressive tug, the far-too-full bag of paper waste follows through the front doors behind you. There's a recognizable tearing sound that you're hopeful is akin to more of a plastic flesh wound than anything that will result in even more picking up of mess than what you've already done tonight — but as you reach the end of the walkway and are met by the gracious offering of the dumpster sidelined at the street — you hurl the bag up and over your shoulder with as much strength as you can muster, while simultaneously and much to your displeasure feeling the slip of your phone from its nestled place, down to the concrete flooring below.

"Fuck, fuck...!"

On the other end, you can hear your friends' voice as she tumbles to the floor, juggled against your palms as you attempt to salvage the device. It seems to help to some degree as you manage to force it away from the cool, hard flooring and instead into the far more plush, albeit wet, grass just nearby — it's been raining all day, and you're none too pleased about that on account of the effect it tends to have on your already shoddy mood as of late — but regardless, your phone is safe, and picking it back up, you can hear said friend asking what's wrong as you bring it back up to your face.

"Sorry," you say in a hurry, suddenly realizing that you've transferred much of the wet and dirty from the ground to your face having not wiped the screen before ushering it back into place to respond. You wipe it quickly with a grimace and finish your thought. "Kind of all over the place. Been a long—"

You pause again, partially on account of trying to decipher just how long it has been that seemingly any and everything has been going wrong, but mostly as a result of the heaping pile of...you can't even begin to know what that has caught your eye from across the street.

Your heart beats heavy in your chest, because despite it not being all that late in the evening, and the lights of the park just across the way being very much still illuminated, there's one thing that you're relatively certain of and even from this distance now:

That's a body.

"—Life."

"What? What's wrong?"

Squinting, you're not entirely sure how to even answer that question. After all, this friend has now long since moved out of town and cannot possibly aid you in the situation at hand should it be a situation, and beyond even that much...how often does this sort of thing happen? What should you do? Call the police? Investigate?

You don't really want to see something that you can't ever possibly unsee, but the ethics of leaving what could be another human being over there — if they're alive, injured, in need of help...

"There's...a body, in the park across from my place."

You take a step towards the road.

"What!? Well what the fuck! Call the cops!"

Another step.

"What if it's just someone drunk and passed out? I'd hate to get them in more trouble than they really need on their hands," you reply with another step forward, now well on your way to crossing the quiet, residential street. "I'm just going to have a peek, I can call the police if I need to but I just want to be sure."

"You're crazy, what if it's a set up, what if you get attacked!?"

You hadn't considered that angle, and now that the thought is in your head, your heart beats just that much faster. Some sort of ploy to lure an unsuspecting person to them only to turn the tables and hurt them instead, you frown silently at the thought of it, but make no effort in changing your course, either.

"Well," you sigh, reaching the dewy, green grass of the other side of the road and stepping a tennis shoe atop it. "You'll know as much, you can call the cops then."

The following steps are quicker than the last, perhaps a part of you trying to get this over with as soon as possible on account of the worry of not knowing what may be awaiting you. Your friend says something on the line, though you only know as much due to the general sound of her voice and not because you've actually heard any of the words said. You suppose that with each step forward and towards the pile of flesh on the freshly mowed grass — just under a lamp post and as if entirely meant to be presented for your finding — that the loud thump of your heartbeat against the inside of your chest is all too capable of drowning out any other sounds that may insist on being heard by you.

You sort of had wanted to be wrong; about the whole that's a body thing. Unfortunately, now that you're here, you're proverbially kicking yourself for having been such an adept guesser as much.

Eyes wide as you gaze down at the pile of person just before your feet, you know that your friend is still talking to you, and you're a bit aware of how frantic she sounds with each passing second, though you're a bit distracted by the goings on before you now.

A bit curled up and almost in the fetal position on his side, at a glance it appears to be a man: mid-twenties if you had to guess with messy, mid-length black hair that appears freshly shaved at the sides and adorning far too visually pleasing and clean clothes to be someone who has gone through something all that horrible leading up to their last moments here and now.

In fact, he seems immaculately clean — not a spec of dirt or blood or any evidence of blemish gracing him at all. Even as far as your assumption of a drunk evening out, you'd think someone to have far more signs to show of it before reaching the point of having passed out in a public park just a few blocks down the street from the bar district.

If the scene before you reminds you of anything, it's at most like a house cat — simply curled up for a midday slumber where ever he may deem fit.

"HELLO!?"

Wincing, now that the terror that has held you hostage up until now has seemingly dissipated a good amount, the shrill shrieking of your best friends' voice can once again be heard through the speaker, though you're not all that thrilled about it.

"Hey, it's fine," you answer back calmly, still staring down towards the man at your feet — contemplating what, if anything, you're meant to do about this. "I think it's just a drunk guy passed out, though he certainly doesn't look like he had all that wild of a night."

"Lemmie see."

That's right, video calling. Pulling the phone back, you switch the call type and turn the camera angle down towards what it is that you've been graced with. You're not expecting all that much of a response, so when she gasps in what would seem to be misplaced horror, to say that you're shocked would be quite the understatement.

Because what is so shocking about this, anyway?

"That's not a guy you moron," your friend says in utter disappointment of you. "That's a persocom. Look, you can see the serial number just under his ear."

You hadn't noticed upon first look, though you hadn't been looking for any such thing to begin with, but now that it has been mentioned, you bend down to a squatting position to get a better look at what it is that she is referring to.

And just as she said, there it is: the number eleven situated just below and behind his earlobe.

You sigh. "Okay, so...what do I do with him? Should I call like...the pound?"

"He's not a dog, he's an android, what do you think animal control is going to do about him?"

"I don't know! I just don't know what to do with him! Should I just...leave him here?"

A few moments of silence pass by as your friend hums in thought before finally responding to your inquiry with a far too cheerful tone.

"Take him home with you. He looks like an expensive model, probably a custom build so I doubt someone just carelessly lost him. My guess is he's been abandoned because things got a little messy back at home and the original owner didn't know how best to deal with it — or rather, couldn't handle powering him down."

You don't really know what any of that means, all things considered. Persocoms being far from your area of expertise on account of never in your life having enough money to ever own one yourself; instead, they're simply a thing that you're aware of the existence of, but far from anything that you understand in any great detail.

The idea of a live-in android, a humanoid personal computer willing and able to help you with any and all tasks that you may find yourself in need of — the idea certainly doesn't sound terrible when you think of it like that, but there is one thing that rings heavy in your ear even if the concept of it glossed over so carelessly.

'—things got a little messy back at home—'

Whatever that means.

"Is it even legal for me to take him? What if someone comes looking for him? Isn't he someone else's property?"

The shrug on the other end of the line is nearly audible as your friend hums an answer to all of the questions presented.

"If they cared that much, they wouldn't have left him here. No one dumps their million dollar car in the middle of a parking lot with the keys in the ignition expecting it to still be there the next day."

Fair enough.

"You're gonna need some help getting him inside, though. Ask your cute, burly neighbor to help you bring your lil twinkbot inside — oh, and record it for me, that guy is so hot."

"I'm hanging up now, I've apparently got things to do."

"Ta-ta! Have fun getting your kitchen cleaned!"

Ending the call and finally alone with your thoughts, as well as the predicament presented before you — you think over again just why it is that someone would leave something so expensive, so presumably prized out here for any other random person to come and confiscate. You feel sort of bad, but you also suppose that should you come to find that anyone is in search of the item that you can just as easily return it back to them, and in better shape than however he would have ended up should he be left out here in the cold, rainy elements of the overnight outdoors, as well.

Something about the road to hell being paved with good intentions nestles into the back of your mind as you make your way back to your apartment to grab your neighbor friend.

As it would turn out, there are perks to having some nerdy, technologically-attuned pals.

Two knocks at your front door and you're quick to your feet, long strides across your apartment and towards the sound before you quickly open the door to welcome the all too excited smile that's awaiting on the opposite end.

You gently frown. "You're way too happy about all of this."

Popping an arm up on the wood of the doorway entrance, Changmin allows the grin to grow just that much wider at your displeasure. "Never thought you'd be the one to end up with a persocom, what can I say? Of course I'm excited. Now, let me see him!"

Stepping aside barely in time before your friend pushes his way inside anyways, Changmin barely kicks his shoes off in time before he's rushing across the open living area and over towards the slumped body of the android that you suppose is now yours.

Stopping just in front of him, you pause only halfway towards the two of them as your pal turns to look at you from over his shoulder, and you're none too pleased with the devilish grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

"He's handsome," Changmin says with some sort of insistence in his voice, though you feign not understanding it. "I mean, they're meant to be easy on the eyes but this one is something special."

You roll your eyes. "Okay, well, he's not mine and I didn't make him, so that really is neither here nor there as far as I'm concerned."

"Sure," he waves off, as if not entirely willing to take you at your word. "He's probably a custom build, a lot of money in this kind of work."

Silenced, you watch as Changmin kneels down in front of the couch where the model sits, tinkering at the limbs and looking the details over before finally reaching up under the long, white dress shirt and seemingly dipping a hand down into the waist of the persocoms pants.

"Uh," you motion in discomfort at the sight. "What are you doing?"

Changmin glances back at you again, first in confusion, and second with a roll of his eyes upon realizing why it is that you're acting some kind of way about where his hands have disappeared to. "Control panel is at the hip, calm down. If you're interested in the more intimate details of the model I'll let you figure that out on your own time."

"Changmin!"

"Just saying," he chuckles, pulling his hands back and settling the fabric back in place again. Standing once again, he leans forward and takes the chin in one hand, closely looking over the facial features of the android and subsequently checking for life. "Now we just wait and see if he boots up."

There's not long to wait, however; watching on in anticipation for only a few seconds, the slumped stature sprawled across your couch lazily blinks a few times, as if having just been asleep like any other person. Much to your surprise, there's nothing especially bizarre or robotic about it, at all. In fact, his resemblance to human is sort of uncanny. Changmin releases him and steps back to stand next to you as you both watch in a sort of awe as the man on your couch pulls himself up into a more proper, sitting, position, rubbing his eyes from slumber before they bring themselves up and towards you to settle.

"Now what?" you whisper with a gentle lean towards your friend.

Changmin answers with a question towards the model. "Do you have a name?"

A few moments of silence pass, and it causes you to wonder if there is some sort of internal memory damage done that would result in the original owners dumping him off in such a way. Surely, there has to be some reason.

"Juyeon," he says, although it comes off in tone as if a bit in question. Unsure of the answer even himself.

"Cool, he works!" Changmin exclaims with a clap of his hands, eyes wide and bright and full of promise of what's to come despite the persocom being far from his own. "Do you have an owner? Someone we should return you to?"

Narrow, thoughtful eyes glance up towards the ceiling before coming back down and settling onto Changmin. "I have no recollection of previous ownership in my memory banks."

Glancing towards you, your friend shrugs. "Guess he's all yours, then."

Great.

You're happy to take a bit of a more background role right about now as you listen in on the way that Changmin engages with Juyeon, instead, you look over the persocom as he sits on the plush furniture now — seated more proper and with palms pressed to his knees as his eyes look up towards the man speaking to him. He reminds you something of a school boy listening in on a lecture.

"It's settled then!"

Not having realized that you've spaced out, the loud chiming voice of your friend brings you back down to earth with a crash as you're left to wonder what it is, exactly, that has been settled in those few moments of your not having been paying attention.

"What?"

With a strong hand at your shoulder, Changmin pushes you forward, and stumbling towards Juyeon, the two of you meet eyes once again — though yours certainly much larger and full of unease than his — in fact, he appears calm, if not a little unaware of his surroundings in a sort of charmingly confused way.

"He's yours, like I said," Changmin reiterates as he heads back towards the front door to see himself out. "Everything's set, he's good to go, the rest is up to you to work out."

"I don't even know what that means! What do I...do with him?"

Juyeon's still looking up at you with his gaze locked — brown eyes and a dark dusting of what you can only figure is a mixture of eyeliner and smoked eyeshadow that gives him even more of a cat-like allure, you suppose that whoever it was that had this model made certainly had a knack for it as far as visuals go, though what that entails and the uses for such a dashingly handsome model of life-like android...well, you're not sure you really want to delve so deeply into that.

Regardless, you hear Changmin huff out a laugh under his breath at your question, as well as the gentle sound of your front door being cracked open.

"That's entirely between you and him."

Over the following months, living with someone else begins to settle into a routine.

You figure it's simple enough, at least: Juyeon is happy enough with any accommodation you offer him. Countless of late night hours following his 'moving in' of sorts would inform you that owning a persocom is not much different from having a pet, though with far less emotional or interpersonal demands from you, and much more usefulness around the house.

Forum users often would post their routines with their persocoms and the work schedules that they would have them on. First time owners advised to settle into one, themselves, and to not allow themselves to view the androids as humans, though they certainly do resemble as much, and nearly unidentifiably different from anyone else in the crowd next to them. It's an intriguing sort of subculture, in a way: owners and persocoms and their relationships between one another. Some people happy to effectively use their personal computer androids as household slaves — keepers of the homes for nothing more than doing the tasks that the humans wish not to do, while others, you would find on one particular night after following what would turn out to be a quite fascinating internet paper trail of links, would view their persocoms as much, much more than that.

You would also come to find that the overlap in custom models, and owners with far more deeply established relationships with their persocoms, is stark.

It comes as no surprise the more you read into it and think about it: custom build computers far from unheard of in the realm of traditional hardware, so when it comes to someone interested in building what may effectively serve to be their exact, ideal type in a partner — all of the bells and whistles, every feature both physical and in personality perfectly manifested and created to serve — you find yourself occasionally looking at Juyeon through the eyes of whoever it was that set out to create him to serve that exact purpose for them.

And then wonder why it is that he has ended up in your possession now.

Seated at the dining room table now and with your laptop open, you glance up over the top of it towards the man in question as he scrubs a dish at the sink with one of your pink, frilled aprons snugly tied around his neck and waist — it's kind of a charming sight, you can't lie — and it's easy to see how someone could get used to this sort of thing. You've not settled into any particular routine with Juyeon at this point, and in part it's because you know yourself to be assigning him a particular level of personification that you've read time and time again to be ill-advised. It's difficult not to, however. So human in looks and the way that he simply exists around you, even the way that you find yourself thinking of him — as a 'man' — you recognize is probably far from the way that you should be viewing him. Regardless, as a result of your confusion in how to go about living like this, Juyeon has not settled in as your live in housekeeper, nor as your prized boy-toy, either. There are days where the both of you take on tasks around the house, sometimes he will clean the bathroom while you vacuum the house, but often, many days are spent with the both of you seated next to one another on the couch; little more going on than enjoying the television nestled across the way and against the wall.

Sometimes you suppose Juyeon's job is to do little more than simply exist in your shared space together, and he appears happy enough to do as much.

Though, it brings up another question in and of itself: does he have feelings? Does he experience happiness?

Of course, the obvious answer would be no. Androids don't have feelings, computers are not sentient. Weeks and weeks spent together with Juyeon, you can't be sure if you're becoming too comfortable with him and as a result losing your wits in relation to him just that much more, because there are moments where you're nearly certain that he must be experiencing some level of sentience. Emotion. A feeling. More hours spent late at night and long after he falls asleep to rest reading the accounts of other people truly feeling as if they've felt the same about their persocoms — only to be met with the backlash of people far more logically attuned, perhaps — because even as you read the stories from people who post just as much the same as you find yourself believing, you can't help but think them to be a bit too deeply enmeshed with what is ultimately, just a computer.

You think them to be crazy, and yet you think Juyeon to be different. So really, who is the delusional one?

When you ask him if he is happy, he tells you that he is. An easily programmed response, and especially for a custom build intended to be a specific someone's everything. No talking back, no free-thought, you exist to be mine and to live by me alone. You will be happy with it, but more than that, you won't express anything of the contrary.

A miserable life, even if he is incapable of truly feeling misery. Maybe you're projecting, both happiness and displeasure mutually upon a being so far from experiencing either of them.

Glancing over his shoulder and as if feeling your gaze at the back of his head, Juyeon gently smiles before turning back to rinse a glass in hand. You smile back, though it's slow in response and past the point of his ability to see it.

What truly charms you about Juyeon, though; beyond his sharp, model-esque looks and his impressive ability to get groceries put away in all of their proper places in record time, is more the cat-like and borderline vacuous curiosity that remains nestled behind his eyes. In moments when not tasked with something, you often catch yourself watching him — looking around the apartment at all of the elements surrounding him — small trinkets that glitter and shine, seemingly so intriguing to him in a way that you can't quite understand.

Because why would any of this be of any interest to him? Why should he have any interest in anything, at all?

It sort of dawns on you then, watching as Juyeon places the last glass into the drying rack next to the sink, that rather than doing late night internet searches and mulling over thoughts to yourself about the hows and whys and other inter-workings of whatever it is that makes up his mind, instead, it may just be time to do the most obvious thing.

Get to know him yourself.

"Want to sit with me?"

It feels weird to ask him, though you're not entirely sure why. You always present everything to Juyeon as a question, even tasks around the house. You know there is not likely to ever be a situation where he will deny you as much, it's almost certainly not programmed within his software at all (an ethical quandary in and of itself), but now you have no household errands for him to take care of. Rather, it's the most casual of circumstances in which you find yourself asking something of him.

Turning, it's almost as if his eyes light up at the question, though you curse yourself internally for even thinking as much. There's definitely a learning curve to this whole 'living with an android and not personifying him' thing.

"Of course."

Pulling up the chair just next to you, Juyeon settles in and his eyes settle upon you expectantly. You know this look, it's the look that is anticipating more tasks to be laid upon him. It makes you feel guilty, however — as if you're overworking him, asking too much of him already though you think it more likely that you ask far less of your persocom than many others do of their own.

It's quite literally a major function of his existence, so why does it feel so bad to use him as such?

Perhaps something to do with the way that Juyeon looks at you — as if you're the only person in the world. You suppose that for him that much is true, because as far as he can remember, the only other people in the world besides him are you, and Changmin.

It might be time to take him outside, but that's not the topic of discussion for tonight.

Pushing your laptop out of the way and instead replacing it with the glass of liquid, you nervously run your thumb over the rim as you purposefully avert your eyes from the man seating next to you. Really, you called this meeting long before you were reading for it, and now that it's here, you're not entirely sure what to say.

A shallow inhale, you pull your eyes upwards to finally meet his. "I want to...get to know you."

The silence following is deafening as you await a response. You imagine the gears twisting and turning inside of his machinery as if there's some kind of factory that lies beneath the faux flesh and hair that sits before you, though logically you know it not to be the case. Instead, you can see the proverbial gears of contemplation firing in that beautiful skull of his as he mulls over the words, and with pretty lips ever so slightly parted, he finally gives you a reply.

"What do you want to know?"

Juyeon's voice is deep and velvety in a way that you haven't thought about that much until this very moment. You suppose it's in large part because you've not sat down and had an actual conversation with him before now. It's pleasant, and kind of sexy — but you're quick to correct the thought as soon as it enters the mind.

"You said you don't remember anything about your owners before me, but do you know anything about...yourself?" you inquire slowly, as if treading upon waters that you're entirely unsure about. You don't want to offend him, or bring up unwanted memories, though you question how realistic a concern that even might be. "Like, do you have television shows you like, or a favorite color...foods you enjoy — though, I guess you don't eat food..."

Your words begin to sound a bit like rambling the longer you carry on, as well as you coming to realize that you actually have a lot of questions for him as he sits before you now.

Still, you watch as one, single corner of Juyeon's lips perk upwards, as if somewhere deep down in there he is thrilled about your interest in him beyond scrubbing tiles and porcelain.

Chin nestled against his palm with an elbow planted into the wooden table beneath, he cocks his head to the side and looks at you with nothing less than fondness.

"I can eat," he begins softly, quietly. "It's for show, of course, but I can. Shows, colors, anything like that...I guess it will just take more time, but I enjoy the things that we watch together in the evenings."

"We always watch something different, you just like everything?"

Juyeon hums in thought, and you wonder how much of it is for show as if to allude to the fact that he has any free will or thought at all. "I don't like the news. I don't like to hear about bad things happening to people."

Oh? A chink in the programming?

He continues the thought with little pause, eyes glancing up towards the ceiling. "I like those shows where a lot of strange people live together in a house and have fun all of the time, even though it seems to end up in fighting a lot..."

You laugh into the rim of your glass as you bring it up to your lips. "You like trashy reality television? I didn't expect that one."

It does raise a particular set of questions, however: the ins and outs of the goings on between sexually active and attractive people in reality television settings — how much of what would commonly be described as a typical, romantic, physically intimate encounter between people does Juyeon understand?

But you're not going to ask it like that, either. Because weird.

You take a sip of your drink and swallow hard before setting it back down onto the table.

"How much of the...human experience...do you know? Like, beyond speaking, cooking, cleaning — all of the basic, simple things — I guess I'm asking about...your programming?" you finally stutter the words out, though once you have, you can't help but laugh at yourself in the aftermath. "God, it's so awkward."

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm any different from you," Juyeon comforts, sliding a hand across the table to settle atop one of your own. It reminds you that you've engaged in physicality so little since his arrival to you, and his touch offering an unanticipated warmth that you wouldn't have expected from someone so far from human. "We're the same in all of the ways that matter, we just come from different places. I think that's the best way to look at it."

You swallow hard, heart beating surprisingly hard within your chest at the touch offered to you by him.

"But to answer your question; I have the same understanding as anyone else would, any other man of my age. I know of and understand the concept of the range of emotions, I feel feelings just like you, I feel touch and nervousness all the same. I understand romance, and passion, and—"

He pauses on the word, narrow, dark eyes glancing up from the table and meeting your own across the way. His gaze feels smoldering now in a way not before felt: kitten-like cuteness now replaced by a similarly feline but much more sinister presentation, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him as his lips part once more to finish the sentence one started.

"—Everything else in between."

Throat dry at the words and touch, you shake it off briefly and hope for him not to notice the way you sit flustered as a result of it. Ridiculous as it is, there's something about the way that he looks at you and speaks to you in that moment that feels far too much like flirting, and worse than that, you shiver at how easy you found yourself lost in it, as well.

But Juyeon isn't real, not in the human sort of way, and you'll be damned if you allow yourself to fall romantically or sexually attracted to your live-in android pal. Not if you have anything to say about it.

Besides, that's a whole other can of ethically and morally questionable can of worms that you're not interested in wading through any time soon.

Instead, you abruptly pull your hand away with a loud clearing of your throat and your eyes just as sharply averted from his.

"Well, it's late," you say shakily, scooting your chair back with a loud noise and gathering your cardigan from the back of it. "Should probably head to bed, have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

You don't wait for a response, grabbing your laptop from the table and spinning to head towards your room. Avoiding his eyes all the while, it's only when you realize that you've left your dirty glass where it certainly doesn't belong do you still and resign yourself to having to turn back and face the man as he remains — presumably still seated where you've left him in wake of your humiliation.

A deep inhale, followed by a slow turn. When your eyes fall upon Juyeon again — messy dark hair and your cute, frilled apron still hugging his form, the glass is already in hand and you're met with the most disarming, delicate eye smile — almost as if a different man entirely sits there now from before.

"Don't worry," he says cutely and quietly. "I'll take care of it."

The following couple of months pass far quicker than expected as the greenery of summertime melt away in favor of earthier browns, reds and oranges — it's as if the world itself offering you the perfect opportunity to change and shift your interactions with Juyeon and subsequently, his interactions with the world around him.

Numerous, afternoon shopping outings for long sleeved shirts, jackets and scarves for him, paired with warm drinks that only you drink but none to anyone's acknowledgement should they pass by in brief, you can't help but feel the adoring swelling of your heart as a result of scenarios such as these: Juyeon isn't your boyfriend, he's barely even a boy, at all, but there are truths of the matter, and as much as you try not to lend too much thought to them, it still remains that where once sat a kind of emptiness in your life — no longer it remains as evident as before.

After a long day out together with your persocom, the two of you return back to your apartment far later in the night than originally planned on account of missing a train and getting lost just a bit outside of town, even in spite of having a literal computer along with you for the ride. Still, Juyeon holds the bags in hand and at elbow bend as he kicks his shoes from his feet and shakes his hat off to the floor like a child. The scene brings a smile to your face as you hang your coat onto the hanger, and gently pulling bags from long, fully capable arms, you and he briefly meet eyes in a way that feels so much different than most of the other times that you do.

A fondness for him growing in your heart. Nurtured everyday by the fact that you live with him, cook with him, shop with him, do everything with him. There are little boundaries imposed between the two of you, and as a result of it, you find yourself becoming far too enmeshed with each other in a way that you know is well on its way to becoming unwise.

The truth is that Juyeon is kind, and thoughtful, and everything that you would want in a partner.

Everything that you would want in a partner that you have no hope of ever finding so long as he remains in your life, taking up the space that he does — not only in your apartment, but in your life, in general.

Comfortably nestled between the sheets of your bed, you sigh into the cool air of your bedroom as it gently swirls in circulation on account of the quiet spin of the ceiling fan just above you. Eyes slowly falling to a close as sleep begins to take you after a long and busy day, the stirring of your bedroom door just about fails to pull you back from the grips of slumber — as if unsure of its having happened at all.

One eyelid cracking open to survey your surroundings, you glance over towards the ever so slight pooling of illumination from the hallway, obstructed only by the tall, lanky silhouette of someone dangerously and conveniently familiar to you.

"What's wrong?" you question in a whisper, but Juyeon doesn't step any further forward in response.

Instead, you're met with a few moments of uncommon silence before you hear him inhale to answer.

"Can I—" he pauses again, trepidation heavy in the air between you. "—Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Oh.

Oh?

You know that you don't have that long to mull over the inquiry without bringing about even more worry and anxiety that is quite evidently already present within him. The idea of that alone is something that you've spent so much time talking yourself out of ever since finding him powered off and abandoned in the park just across the way that to be faced with the fact now and again — even in spite of being told as much straight from the mouth of the man himself — you have no choice but to take him and his word at face value now, as well as come to a decision as quickly as possible.

The relationship has been easy thus far, simple, enjoyable; in ways, something like this feels like the obvious next step.

Relationship.

Perhaps the obvious next step if Juyeon were human, and capable of even being in a true relationship with you, or anyone, for that matter.

Matters of the heart often at odds with the mind, but really, what's the worst that could happen? Friends share sleeping arrangements, family members share sleeping arrangements — you know yourself to be more than capable of doing as much without it becoming sexual.

Talking yourself into it, the beginnings of coping with having made a decision that you know not to be the one that you likely should be making.

Either way, you're out of time.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

You're not so much startled awake by the feeling of it, in fact, you're willing to melt into the touch much quicker than perhaps you might have anticipated. Perhaps it's on account of teetering just on the edge of consciousness, and thus not entirely having all of your wits about you — maybe if you were in better form you would be far more willing to make the better, proper choice.

The gentle shifting push of your thigh out of the way, then the delicate curl of long, adept fingers into the sides of your panties — maybe you would have more of a chance, but not after the feeling of the smooth, blunt tip of his length sliding through your wetness from behind and bumping right snug against your clit with what one can only assume to be some sort of practiced ease.

You're certainly awake now as the groan catches in your throat and your eyes roll back ever so slightly — Juyeon continues on with the motions, too; there's no accident in his movements against you, faux-fucking you though with no penetration as he repeatedly delivers slow, stead drives of his hips against you from behind as you lie spooned and somewhat pinned beneath him.

He's heavy, but doesn't feel much more so than any other man of a much larger stature than your own. Instead, his lips press up against the shell of your exposed ear almost instantaneously with hot puffs of air cascading down from his mouth onto the quickly dampening flesh of your face as you remain caged under him.

"Does it feel good?" he whispers against you, and with the way that his breath catches on his own words, you'd swear that it must feel similarly erotic for him, as well.

You nod ever so slightly, managing out the most meager of replies as the feeling of him relentlessly prodding your most sensitive parts begins to have a building need for more and more. "Yeah."

"Do you want to feel more of me?" Juyeon then asks, hand slipping back from your underwear and fingers instead gripping tightly into your hip, as if to put the thought in your mind of how he could have you should you allow him to.

He sounds absolutely sinful in your ear like this, and you've briefly been made aware of this side of him before, though not one you've allowed yourself any time to mentally explore. It's something you've put well and far out of your mind — the possibility of this, the crossing of this line. You've done the reading, you understand the long list of potential purposes of persocoms...

He lightly groans into your ear, and it rips you back from your thoughts.

"I can make you cum over, and over, and over again," he says in addition, never relenting the slow, pointed glide of his cock through your folds. The persistent itch of a budding orgasm is felt between your legs, and you want deeply to be bigger than the urge.

"I have—" Juyeon whispers against you again, and this time it's paired with a particular shift back of his hips. You know what's coming, the most cognizant part of your mind choosing instead to feign ignorance just for the chance to simply enjoy this for what it is, and with little other thoughts or considerations accompanying it. Blunt, press of the end of him at your entrance, followed just thereafter by the slow, smooth sinking of his length into you as the rest of the thought finally exits his sinister lips.

"—Endless stamina."

"Fuck, Juyeon—"

"Yes?"

It takes you a few moments. Moments that feel like hours as you come back to consciousness and try to make sense of what's real and what isn't, but what you can quickly gather is that that was not real, and now that your eyes are open to view Juyeon laid up in bed just beside you: hair messy, eyes on you, and very much hands (and everything else, for that matter) to himself — this is real.

As is the suffering throb between your legs.

"Dreaming of me?"

You know he's joking, and you chuckle it off as normally — albeit, nervously — as you can. "Yeah, I guess so."

Having a hard time facing his gaze despite feeling it on your skin, you're only able to offer him a quick glance before hastily knocking the sheets from you and clamoring out of bed towards the bathroom for a much needed, freezing cold shower.

"Anything you remember?" Juyeon calls out lazily and through a yawn, turning himself over in place as to follow your movement with his attention like a pet who is all too interested in your every whereabouts.

Over your dead body.

"No."

You slam the door shut. It's on accident, of course, blame it on being so tightly wound up.

Two days later, with the dream mostly out of your mind and the ability to make eye contact with your persocom having come back into your routine, after a simple dinner and a movie outing that turns a bit into dinner, a movie, and some drinks — with a light buzz that has your head a bit in the clouds and your inhibitions somewhere up there with them, once arriving back to your apartment with Juyeon, you find your eyes lingering on his form just that much more than you might typically allow yourself to view: quite a tall figure with broad shoulders and such a pretty, small waist to accentuate the curve of him — if the work done on his face alone wasn't perfection enough, then whoever had such a custom build done certainly didn't allow for the attention to detail to end there.

You wonder how much else of him is molded perfectly to someone's tastes, but shake the thought from your intoxicated head just as fast. You cannot be doing this. Not now, and not ever.

Juyeon pulls off his coat, setting it up onto the rack and dipping perfectly manicured fingers into the neckline of his white, button down, dress shirt — you watch him from the corner of your eye, though you wish yourself to have the self control not to — gently tugging at the buttons and leaving just a few of them undone in a trail that leads just far enough down the front of his chest to expose the pale, flesh there without showing off too much. A tease, though he's not doing anything in particular, and especially not on purpose.

This is entirely on you, and projection in its truest form. Curiosity certainly is having its way with you now.

Clearing your throat, you manage to pull your eyes away from him entirely, though the awkwardness of your movements draws his attention, anyway. Pulling your shirt from your pants in the beginnings of undressing for a shower and bed, you suppose it is simply time for yet another ice cold shower — not the first, and likely far from the last should these living arrangements persist.

But the clasping of Juyeon's hand around your wrist has other plans for you entirely, as it would seem.

Gently tugging you back towards him, everything feels like slow motion as his head dips down towards yours — other hand coming up to delicately cradle the side of your jaw as he leans in — you still in place for numerous reasons; fear, anticipation, concern, excitement. Juyeon pauses just after you, lips nearly feathering over your own with how little distance now rests between the two of you.

"Warming up to me, are you?" he asks in just above a whisper. You're not sure how to answer that, largely on account of the fact that it feels as though he can read your mind. A response isn't necessary though, because he continues the thought. "I can tell. I can feel the way your heart races or your body temperature shifts..."

You can't help it, chin shifting upward ever so slightly as if in an attempt to close the distance, but if he recognizes the half-assed effort, Juyeon doesn't allow it and maintains the gap still.

"You're interested..."

"I'm...curious," you correct, and for once it's actually the truth.

"Curious," Juyeon copies with slightly upturned corners of his lips. The air between the both of you feels stifling now and as though there isn't nearly enough to go around. Dizzying close to him in such a way that has you wanting to reach out and touch him far more than ever before, you have got to keep your cool — alcohol induced bravery being no excuse to make decisions that under normal circumstances you might never make.

And then come to regret.

But you suppose that the thing just said about being able to tell is true; Juyeon takes the moment into his own hands and walks you back only a few steps so that your back is against the wall. Now caged in by him, it reminds you briefly of the dream only a few days ago, although you face him like this now — reaching down, Juyeon takes one of your hands into his own and leads it up towards the unbuttoned mess of shirt along the top of his chest, pressing your palm to that very place as if urging you to touch him, feel him, be forced to acknowledge that he very much is here and real in all of the ways that really, truly matter. Physically, mentally, emotionally — Juyeon is just as much there as any other man you could have in your apartment this evening.

Your fingertips meet at the skin of his sternum, and though you've made physical contact with him before, you're surprised by his warmth each and every time. You don't anticipate him to ever feel as human as he does — even a light, barely there sheen of perspiration to the touch from the long walk between the train station and your home.

The science doesn't make any sense, or maybe it does and your judgment simply far too clouded by inebriation and desire to put the pieces together, but the thoughts are immediately put out of your head when Juyeon closes the distance between your mouths finally and kisses you hard where you stand against him.

Head slightly cocked to the side for just the right angle, when Juyeon's lips part against yours and his tongue dips delicately across your own you think for sure your knees might just give out from beneath you. Thankful for the wall at your back, fingers curling into the white shirt that they were placed upon — you know this is spiraling out of control, and quickly, but at this point...

You're not sure you have the self-control to do anything about it.

Suddenly and much to your displeasure, however, Juyeon breaks the kiss and pulls away from you, though not breaking the physical contact between you entirely as he takes your hand into his own and leads you towards the living room — seating himself on the couch, the very same couch where Changmin booted him up and back to life only a handful of months prior to now — you stand somewhat awkwardly as he gazes up at you with those same, devilishly slender eyes that you know to be hiding some sort of ideas of misdoings behind them.

Large hands slowly coming up to the buttons of his shirt again, his eyes never leave your own as he continues to release more of them; one by one another button falls away from the shirt that keeps the fabric held together, the flesh hidden behind, and with each one your breath catches in your throat. In situations like this, albeit infrequent as they are, you're given ample time to think about this, about this and what this is and what you're doing. It's wrong. Objectionable at best and ethically despicable at worst, you're fairly sure...

Your eyes look up from his hands and to his own instead, Juyeon meets your gaze with slightly parted lips and the gentle, erotic poke of his tongue to the inside of his cheek as his fingers run out of white buttons to unfasten, only to travel just a bit further down in journey of finding more.

"You said you're curious, " he says finally, pulling apart the button of his trousers with ease and making just as quick work of the zipper. "So, what are you curious about?"

You're fairly certain you're going to pass out.

He looks ungodly hedonistic like this under the barely illuminated evening lighting of your apartment living space — legs spread and undressing himself for your viewing pleasure. You wonder how much better of a person you would have to be to withstand this kind of test, because Lord have mercy, you are on the precipice of failing now.

Juyeon brings his thumbs up to hook into the hip of his slacks, and raising his lower half he gently pulls them down just enough to be out of the way.

All the while his eyes never leave your face.

"Curious about functionality?" he questions, though it sounds a bit as if it's rhetorical. An inquiry to no one in particular as your eyes fall to the far too fitted black fabric that now lies between your eyes and whatever it is that is hidden beneath. Juyeon brings one hand up to the bulge there, slowly palming over himself as you watch him. "Anatomical correctness?"

You swallow down absolutely nothing into the desert that is your throat as you watch on.

Then, he dips the same hand beneath the fabric, wrapping a fist around himself and shallowly pumping. Only now does he allow his eyes to fall from you — head falling back against the couch and eyes rolling shut at the feeling of himself.

"Or is it more—" he whispers again through his ministrations. "—Personal taste?"

"You're going to ruin my life," you finally manage out, but to that, Juyeon only laughs with a careful raise of his head once more to look at you.

"Quite the contrary," he says in response, still slowly palming himself beneath his briefs. "I can be any and everything you want me to be."

Inhaling sharply and with an evident shake of uncertainty to your stature, you look into Juyeon's eyes again — deeply, firmly — and come to a decision. It might not be a good one, and it almost certainly is not the correct one, but it's a decision nonetheless; made here and now.

You'll deal with the fallout should the time come.

"I want to touch you."

Juyeon doesn't reply with words, instead pulling his own hand from himself and granting you the space to experiment as you see fit. Knelt between his legs, your own palms slowly snake up his thighs only to meet at either side of the place that your curiosity mostly resides. Eyes fluttering up towards his own again before you go any further, one corner of his lips perking upwards in fondness has your nerves quelling just ever so slightly, though not nearly enough to put the entirety of the issue to bed.

"Do you...feel it?"

Fingers curling into the elastic waistband of his briefs, you tug them down along his slender hips gently to expose the long, hard, length of his cock to your eyes in totality. Part of you is almost surprised to find him to be erect at all, though you suppose it wouldn't make much sense, otherwise. You've done enough reading to know physical intimacy to very much be a feature of many persocom models, and especially custom builds, it should come as no surprise now.

Juyeon was built to serve many needs of someone's, and sex was most certainly one of them.

Taking him into your palm, the contact brings a jolt from him, and you suppose that's answer enough to the question. Juyeon answers still.

"I feel everything," he sighs out, reveling in the feeling of your hand along his shaft. "Pleasure, pain...I feel it all."

At that, you begin a languid, lazy pace along him, watching the way his chest heaves and falls with every stroke — amazed by how real he feels in your hand. Long, but not particularly thick, his cock weighs heavy in your palm, and even seeing a beading of precum at the slit surprises you, thumb coming up to swirl it along the wide, blunt tip of him.

He writhes beneath your touch at that, a groan caught in his chest while dark eyes stare down at you.

"You have...cum?" you question, still slowly swirling the liquid around the head and enjoying the unraveling of him like this.

While erotic in the most basic sense, something about the situation feels clinical, nearly scientific, in a sense. Even with Juyeon's cock in your hand as you stroke him off like this, you can't help but think it a bit like an experiment. Unsure touches that lack fundamental understanding, rather than something truly intimate and sexual in nature between two people. In the meanwhile, your free hand slowly traverses the exposed flesh of his abdomen just up the way…smooth to the touch by familiarly muscular beneath the pads of your fingers.

Maybe this ought to be how the first time goes, you can't be sure one way or another.

Barely capable of holding his head upright and with only one eye cracked open to look down at you, Juyeon forces out a reply as best he can. "Not in the traditional sense, of course, but you wouldn't know the difference in the moment."

"How?"

"Won't it ruin the allure?" he chuckles under his breath, though it hitches at the tail end with a particular flick of your wrist along him. "Knowing the technical workings of it all?"

You don't answer him, at least, not verbally; instead, you lean forward to take him into your mouth with a swirl of your wet, warm tongue over the head of his cock to taste him in full.

It earns you a full bodied groan, one that you've apparently been dying to hear.

Slowly bobbing along half of his length, you're only given a few moments of taking him before you feel a strong hand under your jaw — carefully pulling your mouth up and off of him to instead look him in the eye as he speaks to you.

"I can still cum in you," he whispers out, thumb ghosting over the wet of your bottom lip and lewdly pushing his hips up to glide the tip of his cock against your messy, used mouth. "More than most, if that's what you like."

The words bring such a painful throb to the space between your legs.

"What else can you do?"

Educational talk has officially teetered over into dirty talk, foreplay. Suppose that was bound to happen, all things considered.

You don't take Juyeon properly into your mouth again, instead allowing him to simply drag the wet mixture of spit and precum along your lips and chin in such a pornographic display that it has his eyes gazing down at you just that much more hooded and full of lust than you've ever seen before. It's intoxicating how he views you like this, and for a man that already teetered on the edge of unfathomable levels of sex appeal, you question whether it possible for anyone to look more seductive than he does now.

"Fuck you as long as you want, as hard as you want," Juyeon finally answers in just above a whisper, voice laden with desire. "Any time, any position. Anything you want, and the best part—" he questions, though you think to know where he's going with this already.

The anticipation of hearing the words pooling in your gut in what can only be described as unbridled arousal: the promise of unmatched sexual desire. No one will ever fuck you the way that Juyeon can fuck you, because it is quite literally impossible by human standards.

"—I never finish before you do."

Endless stamina, a cock that is always hard, capable of orgasm and continuing to serve you...precisely the kind of information that once upon a time, you were hoping to avoid ever learning.

And as if he can see the world spinning inside of your head with this newfound information, Juyeon leans forward in his seat to bring your arms into his hands — pulling you closer, he slots his lips against your own all over again even in spite of the mess. This time, however, the kiss is far needier, more hurried, laced with a wanting that you could have never guessed lied buried within him all this time.

Has it been, or is he simply meeting you where he must as per his programming?

Breaking the kiss, Juyeon only allows mere centimeters between your mouths before breathing the request into yours.

"Let me make you feel good."

Letting him take the lead, you melt into the touch of him pushing you up to your feet once more as his fingers go to work at front of your pants. Little time is wasted before the fabric is pooled at your ankles and you are urged to step out of it, when just as quickly, Juyeon takes your hips into his hands to pull you forward and settle atop him with a knee nestled into the cushions of your couch and on either side of his own.

Hovering over his lap, you feel the careful nudge of the tip of his cock as it settles firmly against your entrance but with no real insistence to enter you just yet. Instead, Juyeon's hands as well as his attention is turned upwards to your chest with soft palms grazing the skin and warm, wet lips wrapping around one of your nipples in just the perfect amount of pressure that has your head spinning.

Tongue digging firm circles into the sensitive bud, you almost miss the way one of his arms slithers around the small of your back as if to hold you snug in place against him, but just as quickly it becomes rather evidently all a part of his plan as you finally feel the intrusion of the wide, blunt head of his length prying you open from below and pulling your body down to sink onto him in full.

It's a slow, careful process — and for that you're thankful with no physical preparation done on your end. In ways, you prefer it that way — like this, it feels real, it feels raw. Sometimes sex simply happens without the bells and whistles and without the luxuries of time, or foreplay.

Sometimes, people just need to feel each other.

Teeth digging into your bottom lip to pull back the whine that threatens to escape you — feeling impossibly full of him like this as your hips settle flush in his lap — there's a passing moment where you worry of him being too big with the looming threat of him at the deepest ends of your insides, instead, Juyeon leverages his above-average strength to lift you off of him just at the precipice of too much before gently gliding you along his shaft all over again for friction that is just so fatally exquisite.

Getting a handle of your bearings and shifting your weight to take more of an active role, you roll your hips against his own as Juyeon shifts the grip his arm has on you to instead hook up at the top of your shoulder from behind — better to pull you down hard against him, fill you deeper with himself as you find a rhythm atop him that starts to suit you.

You can't hold back the whimpers, though you'd like to try, and looking down at Juyeon beneath you as you ride him, part of you wants nothing more than to ignore the explicit adoration that shines in his eyes as he watches you like this.

"Good?" he asks quietly, as if not wanting to interrupt when the answer is so obvious, anyway. You nod quickly, Juyeon pulls you down onto his cock harder as if in affirmation of your reply, and you moan out loudly for him as a result. "Want to watch you cum."

"Fuck," you gasp out, as if the mere request enough to get you there already. "I'm close, I'm close don't stop, don't—"

"Harder?" he asks you now, and all you can chant out is breathy 'yes'' in reply.

Juyeon shifts his position from beneath you just slightly, slinking down so to have better leverage of his feet against the floor and you immediately realize why when he meets your comparatively useless fall along his cock with a hard, full drive of himself up into you instead.

The force just about knocks the air out of your lungs, but more than that, the friction has you seeing God.

It takes little more of that — thighs trembling and abdomen clenching in orgasmic promise as you grit your teeth through the most euphoric release you think to have ever experienced in your life up until now. Juyeon's hips never falter, never slow — because why would they? Never at the whims of his own humanity or release, he can fuck you just as hard, just as fast, all of the way through your own orgasm and past the point where other men may lose themselves to the stimulation...

Not him.

Sounds of wet skin pressing hard and fast together ringing heavy in your ears — it's all you, that much you know — how drenched you are around his dick as he still continues to drive into you even after the peak of your orgasm falls off, it's only now that you realize that Juyeon will simply continue fucking you like this unless you ask him to stop — ask him to finish for himself.

Leaning down, you capture his mouth into yours all over again — a bit teethier and ill-coordinated than the previous times but much needed all the same, the man beneath you is happy to meet you in such intimacy, and like this, you whisper your own request against his dry, bitten up lips.

"You can cum, want you to cum."

Meeting the words with a throaty groan, Juyeon cocks his head to the side to kiss at you better before pulling away and speaking against your mouth once more. "Want to feel me fill you up?"

The grip his fingers have on your body stiffens then, one of your own carding through the damp, black strands that stick to his forehead as a result of the goings on now. Juyeon fucks up into you hard and fast again as if chasing an orgasm of his own and as the curve of his cock drags against your g-spot all over again, fingers curling into the hair at his scalp much harder than anticipated as he threatens to take you there all over again, your eyes clench shut at the familiar throb of him as he buries himself deep within your walls for one, last time and with a deep, almost pained groan through gritted tight teeth.

Clenching down around his cock like this you can feel him empty inside of you in waves — gentle pulses of his cum pumping heavy within you.

Then, silence. Nothing more than the quiet, rhythmic sounds of two people attempting to catch their breath in the aftermath of...who knows what, really.

Juyeon sleeps with you again that night, just as he had already done previously. The only difference this time being the way delicate, long fingers fish for yours beneath the sheets.

Four, loud knocks at your front door is not how you wish to be startled into consciousness.

More than that, the distinct sound of a familiar woman's voice sounding out through the otherwise empty halls.

Stomach leaping into your throat, this is bad. Really bad. For a plethora of reasons, but most of all because of what — and who — still resides next to you in a deep and seemingly much needed slumber.

Last night was a lot, for the both of you; your thighs are sore and frankly the remanence of stinging throb that is still harbored between your legs serves as just as much of a reminder as anything of the series of decisions that led you to this very moment.

But you don't have time to mull over the hows and whys, because you have to get up, get dressed, and present somewhat properly before your friend wanders into your bedroom and stumbles upon the aftermath of such a thing herself.

You intercept the situation well enough, however; robe slipped on over your form and sitting her down at the dining room table for a late breakfast — a surprise visit, great, though less sarcastically so under usual circumstances. She brings breakfast and you're at least thankful for that because you are starving after the appetite worked up under last night's activities and you question whether you have the strength in your legs even now to stand at the stove long enough to cook something up for yourself, much less for a guest, as well.

Juyeon is no where to be found still, even an hour after your awakening. For that, you are thankful, though you know it not to last forever. Your home is his home, and he has free roam of it as he should...especially now, especially with the way that things have unfolded between the two of you.

Whatever your relationship is with him now, it is forever changed in some way, shape, or form. Lines have been crossed and while you're certain of his ability to simply carry on as though nothing has ever happened should you ask it of him...

Can you?

Shoveling another slice of fluffy pancake into your mouth as she carries on about what it is that she has been up to since having moved away from the city that the two of you once shared, your mind remains clouded with not only the what of your plans to disclose, but beyond that, the mere fact that you simply must.

And the window to do so draws quickly to a close.

"I have to tell you something," you finally say. The words are quiet, already somewhat beaten down in anticipation for a less than thrilled response from the friend sitting just across the way. She's not particularly judgmental, no, but this? This?

It wasn't all that long ago that you sat on the same side of the moral fence on this particular quandary as her.

"What—" she begins, and while at first you believe her to be inquiring about your words, the direction in which her eyes gaze — fully beyond you and back towards the bedroom door gives away that you have run out of time, entirely.

Shit.

"—Is this?"

Eyes closing slowly in a bout of displeased defeat, you exhale heavily before turning around to inspect the scene: it couldn't be worse if you had tried to set it up as such, either — Juyeon standing just outside of the bedroom and fully in sight of the both of you, freshly washed and nude from the waist up...only a towel held closed by hand at his hip to keep anything shrouded from the eye, at all.

He exits just as quickly, fast on the pickup and most certainly not needed for this.

Turning back to view your friend, the scowl evident on her features — a question of what happened here, how did we get here written all over her, though you can't imagine she'll offer as much in a verbal sense.

"I'm going to ask you this one time," she states calmly, though the displeasure in her tone is beyond evident. You don't want her to ask, because you don't want to tell her the truth, but you will. "Are you...involved with your persocom?"

Silence so heavy you could hear a pin drop, and picking at the skin around your fingernails in nervousness, you pull a shaky inhale into your lungs before delivering precisely the answer that you know she does not want to hear.

"Yes."

"Really?" she bites back, equal parts disappointment and disgust that you can hear all too plainly. "You're having sex with the android that cleans your bathroom? You're got to be fucking kidding me."

"It's not like that," you hurriedly answer with a whine. It sort of is like that, but too much simplicity behind the words, too little nuance, there's so much more to the circumstances and the goings on and everything surrounding...everything, that to say it like that doesn't do it justice: it doesn't do the situation justice, and it most definitely doesn't do Juyeon justice, either. "It wasn't like that for a long time, it was never my intention. I tried— "

She scoffs, cutting you off from the thought. "You tried? Tried what? To not fuck him? How hard could it possibly have been? Surely you're not so lonely and pathetic that you have to resort to settling in for a life with a custom built, glorified sex toy for life."

Hearing someone speak about Juyeon like this does something inexplicable to you in a way that you couldn't have anticipated. Bubbling rage in your gut at referring to him as nothing more than perhaps, quite literally, what he truly is — still, you cannot bear it. Can't bear to hear it, and especially not with such contempt in ones voice.

He is more than that, you know that to be the truth. You live with him, you speak to him, you share a life with him.

Briefly, you think back to all of those people you read posts from early in the days of your meeting, the claims of nearly certain sentience in their persocoms. Hints of life. True life. True free will.

You can't prove it, but you suppose that much like so many other things, some beliefs reside wholly on faith.

It is your truth, and that's all that you need now.

"Do you have feelings for him or something?"

Without missing a beat, you answer her. "Yes."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, give me a break."

"You don't know what it's like, what he's like. Juyeon is so real, thoughtful and kind and full of life and love in a way you couldn't possibly ever understand unless you experience it for yourself. You know just as well that I used to feel the same way about the concept of such a thing, but now that I've lived it..."

"You cannot have feelings for your persocom."

"I care for him," you plead with a defeated shake of your head.

"It's not real, he isn't real," your friend insists, pushing herself back in the dining room chair with obvious intent to leave and hear no more of what goes on here any longer. "You're living in a fantasy land, and I don't want any part of it."

Grabbing her belongings, the woman that you once called your best friend exits your apartment in a flurry — you don't have time to offer any more explanation or understanding, not that you think it would quell the situation at hand, anyway, but the sinking feeling in your chest of not only loss, but guilt once again reminds you of all of the reasons that you may have been right the first time around. That maybe this is wrong, that you are wrong for allowing this to reach this point, at all.

Cleaning up the table full of plates of half eaten food that tell a story of a meeting gone horribly wrong, you consider doing the dishes here and now — and typically, you might, but the nagging feeling in your gut paired with the all too apparent absence of Juyeon calls you elsewhere in the quiet of the walls of your living space.

Knocking gently at the wooden door frame of your bedroom, the door is open, and in spite of it being the middle of the day, the flash of lightning oozing in through the rain drenched window on the opposite end causes it to feel equally gloomy in ambiance as the mood otherwise feels, anyway.

Along the way, Juyeon sits at the edge of the bed, as if in wait of you to come and find him like this. He is dressed now — a simple black t-shirt and loose, black sweatpants — oddly enough, it feels as though he is dressed in anticipation of somewhere to go.

Slowly walking inside, the rain pelts against the window so roughly that you're not sure Juyeon capable of hearing you should you wish to speak to him in a whisper, thus, you seat yourself at the edge of the best beside him with a palm lightly placed over one of his knees.

He heard everything, you know that well enough with the way that sound carries through your tiny living arrangements. Aside from that, you know him capable of feeling — beyond the projection of his sentience that you feel yourself so sure of, how much of his ability to feel even just at a base level; hardware, software, whatever it is that makes him the who and what that he is — Juyeon feels, and immensely so from the way that sadness wears so evidently on his features now.

You can't help but wonder if this isn't the first time he has lived through circumstances such as this. Memories wiped and primed for rebooting with a new person, a new life; all the while dressed and ready once again to take his leave, though why that urge settles within his bones so strongly, he himself can't even be sure.

"Should I go?"

The words, while anticipated, tug painfully at your heart. Lips down turning into a frown, you squeeze his knee beneath your grasp before leaning further against him and pressing your head to his shoulder in comforting embrace.

"No," you answer quietly. "I don't want you to leave."

Shifting slightly, Juyeon turns to face you more, wrapping long, strong arms around you in an embrace that you think to be something of a thank you for not abandoning him once more. Pulling from one another slowly, you reach up to cradle his face into the palms of your hands as you look deeply into his eyes: beautiful, and endlessly dark but glittering and so full of life, all the same — moments like these, like this, you're so certain of what lies beneath.

So much more than what you're told, so much more than what you had bargained for.

This time, you pull him into the kiss.

Rather than the trepidation of uncertainty, laced within these lips now is a sense of knowing, and allowing your hands to fall from his face to instead search for the bottom hem of his shirt, upon finding it, you feel the knowing grin of his lips twist against your own.

And with that, a tug of the fabric upward.

Juyeon slips his shirt off quickly, tossing it to the floor elsewhere along the room and you waste little more time shrugging off the robe that you earlier had no choice in putting on, anyway. Perhaps a wise choice as you're reminded of having worn nothing more under it, he's swift in maneuvering you in a way that suits him as he pulls up from the bed and instead pushes you back along it — following up the length of your body as his hips settle between your legs and lips once again slot against your own.

This time it feels different. Less curiosity, less learning. Now? Simply experiencing him.

Forearm pressed into the mattress beside your head, Juyeon's other hand feathers down the flesh of your torso towards precisely where you want him to be — delicate fingers ghosting over your skin in such a way that the tiny hairs raise in the wake of his touch, everything that Juyeon does is with intent to have you melting beneath him, and not only does it work, but it's far better than you could have ever imagined.

As his middle finger finds its mark between your legs, slipping between your slit and slowly rubbing circles into the sensitive nub of your clit, his lips slip down from yours to kiss along your jaw; down the column of your neck and settling just at the juncture between your shoulder, carefully sucking and nibbling marks into the supple flesh at his mercy.

Back arching into his touch, you want to feel him more and again. It hasn't even been that long since the last time, but with so much promise of what's to come, you find your body reacts in such a way that you barely capable of reigning it in. Every touch of Juyeon's is perfect, both in placement and pressure. Never too hard, nor too soft, always the precise, right amount.

Slipping a finger into you, you can't help but press your hips down and against his hand in a bid to feel more. Juyeon grins into the skin of your neck as you do, the feeling of his teeth that much more evident and bringing about even more of a pulse of your needy walls around the single digit buried inside of you.

"Juyeon," you finally say, though it comes out as much more of a pathetic, desperate whisper than ever intended. At the sound of it, he begins fucking into you slowly with the very same hand, simulating the precise thing that you both know you're about to ask of him now.

"Please," you whimper now, still grinding down against his hand. "Need more..."

Shifting his weight slightly, Juyeon brings his lips up to your ear before answering back in a whisper. "Want to feel full of me again?"

Arousal throbbing hard around his hand, you hear him huff out an amused laugh against your ear. "You know you can have any part of me that you want, all you have to do is ask."

Pulling up quickly and with no interest in losing more time, Juyeon slips his pants off and to the floor only to settle between your legs once again. This time, however, he sits knelt between your thighs as he brings the same hand back to continue prying you open for his cock, and as you look down to survey the scene, you find him lazily palming over himself as he watches himself work you open.

It's a bit more than you had been ready to take in the sight of, dizzyingly intoxicating and lewd with his lips ever so slightly parted in awe of you and the tight grip of his fist around his length pooling precum at the slit.

Slender and perfectly toned body sitting before you like this, perhaps you never stood a chance, after all.

Finally pleased with the work done, Juyeon slips his fingers from your wetness to instead hook around your thigh and press the underside to his chest — with your calf situated at his shoulder, he urges himself closer, angling his length down to press the wide and glistening tip of his cock at your entrance and with every intention of sinking into you just like this; fully splayed wide for his viewing pleasure.

Firm strokes between your folds, you moan out in need and frustration for him, which only brings an upward curl to his lips just that much more.

He's teasing you.

"Ju— ah —"

Protest quickly lost in your throat as you feel Juyeon begin his initial drive into you — carving out space for himself between your tight walls with slow, intense press of his hips forward — with your body open for him like this he feels even bigger inside of you. Fuller of him with less space inside to accommodate for his size, it feels so soon that surely he will be buried fully inside of you, but with a quick glance down through the tightly knit furrow of your eyebrows, you're quick to learn that the position offers far more than you had originally bargained for.

Humming, Juyeon tugs his bottom lip up between his teeth. It would appear that like the typical man, he's facing the mortal fear of desperately trying to fight back to urge to cum, but knowing better, you can only imagine that you feel fucking exquisite around his dick.

"Doing so good," he says after all, jaw nearly hung open as the last remaining signs of his length disappear inside of you. "So full. Pussy is so small, couldn't possibly take more."

Pussy throbbing around him as he says the words, Juyeon groans quietly with the first withdrawal before slowly pushing back inside of you all over again — slightly faster this time, and almost as if he anticipates you to break from under him.

Up until now, your mouth remains shut knowing well enough that should your lips part nothing more that desperate whimpers and whines will spill out, but needing more from him, you have little option presented to you.

"Juyeon," you say first, little more than a pained whisper falling from bitten red lips. Narrow, dark eyes fall to your own in anticipation of what it is that you're going to say, but likely nothing could have prepared him for the request being made of him, next.

"Break me, Juyeon. Make me yours."

Careful, gentle eyes turning nearly menacing, threatening at the words; Juyeon's grip into your thigh harshens suddenly followed by a quick, hard snap of his hips against your own — so rough that it has you shoving up the bed, it's following subsequently by more and more as he settles into a ravishing pace into you, delivering repeated, firm, drives of his cock against your walls and with the angle that he has now, the perfect curve of his length serving as the most immaculate deliverance of friction against your g-spot.

"You look so pretty wrapped around my dick," he manages out through hard fucks into you, eyes dancing their way between your own and the very place that he disappears inside of your needy body. With a firm enough grip of your leg in place and the strength to manage it, his other hand comes down to messily rub wet circles into your clit, and the touch has you crying out just that much more loudly for him, too. "Okay baby, why don't you cum for me? Lemmie make you mine and I'll give you just the reward you deserve."

And it doesn't take long to give him what he wants, either. Between the relentless fullness of his cock inside of you and the filthy words that drop from once seemingly innocent lips, your thighs shake in his grasp and walls tighten that much more around him with the threat of your release as it accompanying yell catches in the dryness of your throat — coil on the verge of snapping, you need something more from him, though you're unsure how to manage it out in time. Grasping desperately out and towards him, he picks up on it quickly — leaning down to meet you face to face as you hurriedly usher the broken words out from your body.

"Cum with me—"

Needing no more instruction, Juyeon settles back into place between your thighs continuing hard against you, and as the coil in your gut snaps with orgasmic release, you force your eyes open to watch the muscles in Juyeon's abdomen tighten just the same; jaw clenched firm and head thrown back momentarily just before his jaw falls slack and the deep, pained groan of release rips through him as he fucks his load fully into you as you cum around him and milk it thoroughly out of his body.

Slowing at the tail end of both of your orgasms, Juyeon's grip on your thigh softens, gently allowing your leg to fall from his shoulder, and while not pulling himself from the wetness of your cunt just yet, as you look up at the sight of him — fucked out and damp with the aftermath of sex that cannot possibly ever be beaten, as he carries on within you in slow, shallow strokes, you suppose that curiosity gets the best of you, yet again.

"Can you...cum again?"

He grins, as if with complete understanding of the filthy implications of such a question.

Gently lowering himself down again, bare chest to bare chest with you once more, Juyeon kisses along your neck once more, along your jaw and meeting at your mouth again. It's gentle, with barely there nips of his teeth at your bottom lip before he offers you an answer to the question.

"So, that's what you like," he whispers into your flesh, tone heavy with desire and the need to meet all of yours. "Make you mine, fill you with my cum over, and over, and over again..."

His hips begin to pick up pace again, firmly pressing the entirety of his still impossibly erect cock between your messy, soaked, walls. "Just want to be unthinkably full of me, don't you? Filthy thing, playing house all this time, wonder how long you've wanted me to make a complete mess of you."

You don't know, you sort of lost track, and you're not entirely interested in revisiting the timeline, either.

Pulling up and out of you abruptly, you're nearly discontented by it until you feel firm, strong hands pulling at your arms and twisting you to turn you over. Falling flat to your stomach, those very same hands gripping hard into your hips from behind and pulling you up to meet his own at just the right angle — you have little time to reconfigure yourself before you feel the blunt prod of his cock reentering you from behind this time...

And it is intoxicatingly electric the way his length pries you open like this.

Wasting little time, Juyeon fucks you hard and fast, slowing only to dip forward and grasp your arms into his hands — a makeshift contraption of you losing your range of motion as you're forced to merely balance on your face and chest with arms pulled harshly behind your back to grant him the leverage to fuck you full of himself just the way that you deserve.

Just the way that you want.

"So wet for me," Juyeon groans between thrusts, the prominent sounds of such evident with every hard meeting of his flesh against yours. "Won't let you lose a drop of my load, is that what you want?"

Barely able to speak, you manage out the most pathetic whimper of affirmation that you possibly can.

"Want to feel me cum inside of you?"

"Y-yes."

"You gotta cum around my dick again then," Juyeon insists, though it doesn't take much with the relentless fullness of him into you from behind, you're already nearly there by the time a hand slinks down between your legs to rub at your pussy all over again. A humiliating few seconds — though you have no concept of time now as it is — before you're crying out and throbbing around him just as requested, and with little more work, Juyeon answers you back with a loud, full groan as you feel his cock pulse and throb with release as he once again fucks you full of the warm, sticky wetness of his cum.

Slowly releasing your arms from his grasp and gently falling forward to lie beside you in the afterglow of all of this, once finished staring at the emptiness of the ceiling and contemplating whether or not there lies a specific place in hell for people just like you, you feel the familiar touch of Juyeon's delicate fingers as they find your own, slotting between and taking your hand firmly into his embrace.

"I think I'm in love with you."

As consciousness takes you once again the next morning, you're at least thankful for the fact that it's not the knocking and yelling of a friend that you no longer are acquainted with that awaits you — instead, Juyeon stands at the edge of the bed with coffee and breakfast made, though not on much of a silver platter on account of your not having one — it's a cutting board, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

Head sweetly cocked to the side, Juyeon looks down at you with fondness that once upon a time you may have shrugged off entirely as nothing more than a part of his programming. Now, with a new understanding not only of him, but perhaps of yourself and life as a whole, you find yourself far more willing to accept things as they are — whatever that is, and simply...in the moment.

Juyeon looks at you with unbridled love and adoration, because he does love you, and he does adore you. No matter the hows or the whys or the wheres that it may come from, this is the truth; this is your truth, and this is Juyeon's truth.

Now that love has slowed down, you're simply grateful for the ability to have caught up to it.

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask  (⌒‿⌒) —this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

[jackinalex]

I have an idea that is impossibly ambitious and may end up being a complete disaster, but if it works, it’ll be an awesome event for our little fandom. As a fan fiction reader and writer, I know how important interaction is for the longevity of fanfics in the fandom. In order for readers to have content to read, writers have to write. And for writers to write, they need feedback and love. Comments and kudos are great, but have you ever wanted to take it a step forward? As a reader, have you ever wondered what you could do to encourage your favorite writers and give back? Have you ever wondered if your work is honor-worthy? I certainly have, and for that reason, I want to host fanfic awards! 

Here’s how I think it will work: For my concept, it will be completely fan-nominated and fan-voted. I have come up with categories and stipulations, but I am open to suggestions for both. I plan to create a Google Form in which fans can nominate stories for each category, and the stories that are nominated the most for each will become the nominees (or if there are few votes, then all suggestions will become official nominees). Then, I will create a second Google Form in which the official nominees will be voted upon. The nominees in each category that gain the most votes will win! I’m still trying to come up with prizes, but at this point, I think an official graphic that winners can display on their blogs, profiles, etc. will be enough, as with the official titles. If you have an idea for prizes, let me know! 

Stipulations for Nominations: 

-Please only nominate one story per writer for each category. To clarify, you can nominate a story by your favorite writer for two categories, but not two in the same category. 

-Please only nominate stories from the past five years (I want to try and highlight stories from the more modern era since our fandom has fallen off. The writers who have been here deserve some recognition!) This does not pertain to the Legacy Fic award. 

-Please don’t nominate a fic in one category more than once. I’m not collecting emails for privacy reasons, but it isn’t fair to nominate one fic five or six times. Give other fics a chance! 

-You may nominate one fic in more than one category if the fic will fit into that criteria. However, I will likely use my best judgment to determine if the fic needs to be in both categories. 

-Please only nominate fics in the All Time Low fandom.

-Please CAREFULLY read the criteria for each category before nominating. Also, be sure to check the year a fic was last updated/posted to ensure that it is from the past five years (nothing past 2019). Fics can be posted anywhere (ex. ao3, wattpad, mibba, etc.) 

Categories: 

-Best Fluff (any pleasant, feel-good work)

-Best Angst (main plot has to do with prevalent physical or, mainly, emotional torment of characters)

-Best Smut (focuses on sexual activity)

-Best Kink (fics focusing on a specific kink(s) rather than just sexual activity)

-Best Crossover (fics featuring members of ATL and members of other bands, actors, etc.)

-Best Drabble (fic under 1000 words)

-Best One Shot (single-chapter work)

-Best Ongoing (fic that is still being written)

-Best Completed (fic that is multi-chaptered and completed)

-Best Legacy Fic (an iconic fic that is well-known and respected in the fandom and has been for many years)

Please direct any questions, comments, or suggestions to my ask box! More information will be out as more is decided.

The nomination form. 

[bengiyo]

We Must All Get Louder and Gayer About La Pluie Immediately

I understand that this show only airs on iQIYI and that most of us canceled that after KinnPorsche and/or Love in the Air, but I’m gonna need y’all to re-up those subscriptions and get on this train right now. This and Step By Step have been some of the most intriguing romance explorations we’ve had in the realm of Thai BL in a long time, and you are missing out on this incredibly breakdown of the soulmate and fast romance tropes that I’ve ever experienced.

I’ve seen some consternation about whether this show is honoring or defying conventions within romance and BL, and I don’t think that’s the most enjoyable way to engage with a piece of media in a mature genre. I think it’s more useful to ask questions like:

How is this show using those conventions?

What do these conventions fit?

What new things have we learned about ourselves or the genre as a result?

We’ve been unpacking the soulmate idea from the very beginning (@lurkingshan). The show upended our expectations about that from the opening scenes by showing us a romantic man who doubts in his own romantic destiny because his parents divorced. The show has then gone on to state quite plainly that it believes that the hearing loss connection is entirely coincidental, and that what people do in their relationships with other people is what matters the most.

We are sitting in the audience, and so we know that this is a romance. We fully understand that Tai and Patts will more than likely be together at the end of this story. What that knowledge and expectation allows the show to poke at the development of relationships in dramas. The characters are in a slow burn romance, but everyone in their lives doesn’t think they should be! That’s been incredibly fascinating because we so often see BL characters rushed into a relationship with each other that we are always surprised when they aren’t (Bad Buddy, My School President, Bed Friend). It’s been incredibly enjoyable for me to see a romance refuse to rush their characters into commitment with each other.

My good friend @lurkingshan wrote about this subversion of tropes and expectations this morning as they pertain to Lomfon. She makes the point that we expected Lomfon to be a bigger factor going into episode 7 than he was, and that’s also I think part of the point. He’s not a threat to the core romance, but he does have a role to play in this story. For me, I think he’s here to reinforce that skepticism and doubt are critical to making any sort of relationship or belief system function. Your ability to handle new challenges and things that confuse you are critical to being able to maintain a commitment. It doesn’t work if it’s forced.

As for misunderstandings, this show also continues to be intentional about this. As far back as episode 4, Dream chided Patts for not making things clear with Nara. Patts listened but hoped that his non-answer would be enough for Nara. Likewise, Bow has warned Tai twice about Lomfon’s clear desire for him, and how by not making things clear Tai may also face difficulties.

This comes to a head this week with Nara. I agree with @ginnymoonbeam that Nara’s return lets the narrative blow up Tai’s uncertainties he’s left bubbling since the beginning. I personally love Nara’s reintroduction here because Tai is romantic and because he genuinely seemed to like Nara. He liked that she still knew how to take care of her ex. He liked the determination she showed to travel all the way to Chiang Mai to pursue him. He was rooting for her! Even if he misunderstands the kiss, it’s not really about the kiss. It’s about the fact that someone he admires cares for Patts, and he likely worries that he’s the reason they didn’t work out. He’s also still questioning if the mutual attraction between himself and Patts can be trusted.

Moving on to the intimacy, I wrote last week about the way this show has made it clear that these are two men interested in each other. Following up on that this week, we entered an incredible liminal space in their relationship. Patts signaled earlier in the episode when they first got to their room that he is hoping to pick up where they left off with their last intimate moment. Both went into this bed fully aware of the sexual tension between them.

Tai is the one who opens the door this time by first offering the massage and then initiating the kiss. Things heat up between them, with Tai again on top to remain in control of the situation, something @shouldiusemyname points out here. Tai once again asks Patts to stop when he moves to escalate the encounter, but Tai shows Patts that he is interested in him. He offers to help him out by performing the act that Patts was most certainly going to do last week. This is incredibly fascinating for me, because I have always asserted that bottoms are the ones in most control of an encounter. I do not read Tai choosing to take care of Patts as him giving up control in any way. In fact, it’s a way for him to further maintain it. He reassures Patts that he is happy to be here and lets them release the tension of the moment.

Also, I just absolutely lose it over the lip flick.

gif by @pharawee​

Once again, I cannot overstate how radical it is for me to see a show saying that the one performing the act is the one in control of the encounter, and has the character who’s feeling unsure use that as a way to explore their own feelings. Tai needed to know that he likes making Patts happy. Please list the other BLs that have done this with sex in the notes. It’s not very often we get this!

Also, look at this man. This is not the face of a man who is being coerced. This is the afterglow of two people navigating their intimate relationship (@ginnymoonbeam).

He’s literally rubbing his hand because as they spoon because he’s so relieved.

I also just absolutely love Patts. I love that he keeps leaving notes for Saengtai to make sure he knows where they are.

Look at him walking around the next morning. He seems pleased...like a man can seem pleased.

We just never get this kind of stuff in genre. This is a classic romance of the Nora Roberts variety that’s allowing us to show two men navigating their romance and intimacy on their terms while also showing that even fated mates must be good partners to each other. This is a story that loves romance and loves the conventions of the drama. It is approaching each thread with clear-eyed conviction, and we as queer viewers deserve this.

So, I’m going to need you all to get louder, weirder, and gayer about this show. We gotta get more people on this one. We can’t let this show be forgotten because it’s not on YouTube.

Once again, thank you for coming to my post.

tagging @wen-kexing-apologist​ and @kyr-kun-chan​ for all the conversation we’ve had about this show.

[thebeigelunatics]

i was given marching orders to read 'the secret hours' as i had many questions pertaining to molly doran and lamb's relationship with her. i've finished it so now i need to have a think with you all. 😭

most of molly's pov felt strangely like standish's usual pov. i guess because they both possess that bookish quality about them.

apparently nicking scarves isn't a new preoccupation for lamb so my headcanon re: scarfgate is that standish bought a scarf, jackson stole it and she had to buy a new one to replace her old one. that's why they look almost identical.

i suppose neither mick herron or will smith knew this at the time that s2 was written or filmed, but lamb knew dickie way better than any of us have been led to believe.

i wrote out the timeline from when lamb's stasi joe was killed to when partner's death/the standish saga begins and there's seemingly no time at all between the events. everything happened within a span of three years give or take.

there's a line of dialogue or two that mentions river being born/cartwright becoming a granddad and i enjoyed that.

also the seeds were planted for the creation of slough house back then too via dialogue and i thought that was v crafty.

i had assumed that lamb and molly had a longer, possibly romantic relationship but they definitely did not. she knew him for a month, slept with his friend/asset, was involved in a bombing and then didn't see or speak to lamb for fifteen years. idk why i'm bummed by that. it didn't satisfactorily explain to me why lamb and molly seem so warm with each other in the books/on the show. also i think i wanted some assurance that lamb had loved/is capable of loving someone? idk i wanted to meet a version of him that isn't exactly the version of him we have now.

final thoughts: a HUGE part of my lamb and standish obsession is trying to work out why standish? what was so special about her that made lamb do x, y and z before and after partner's death? and i guess this book helped me refine the 'he felt guilty' angle of the why standish? question a bit better... but it STILL doesn't all the way work for me? what happened to molly happened relatively close to partner's death and she essentially ended up being a victim of partner and cartwright too. so why not molly? instead of standish, why didn't he take on molly? is it because he felt molly had betrayed him in berlin, going to cartwright when he'd asked her not to? was it because molly knew ALL OF THE THINGS and in order to start fresh, he needed someone around who knew NONE OF THE THINGS? please, i need to understand! what was it about standish that made him cling to her and never want to let go?

[astraariel]

flores amarillas (a devotion of love)

pairing: fili x mexican!reader (kinda?)

summary: after being thrown into Middle Earth randomly, Fili surprises you with an act of love, reminding you of your life back home.

september 21st - when someone gives someone else yellow flowers on this day, it means you have undying loyalty and love for that person and can be used as a symbol wishing to spend the rest of your days with that person.

word count: 2.4K

warnings: none

tags: tooth-rotting fluff; nobody dies/everyone lives!au; modern character in middle earth!au

author’s note: I am so sorry for being gone for a whole year, oops. here is a fic I wrote in a couple of hours bc I randomly got the urge to write again… my hyperfixation of lotr/the hobbit has made it’s return so I hope you guys love Fili as much as I do <3

so when I daydream, obviously I do it by how it pertains to myself and my culture so this technically is a mexican!reader insert since it's a holiday from my culture BUT it’s a cute holiday nonetheless so I wanted to write about it. this will probably be the only specific reader fic I write because I don’t want to narrow my broadness bc I try to write for any READER! (ig I also write just fem!reader but I digress)

am I posting this a month after the date? yes, yes I am. but who cares! I still wanted to write this and I think it will help me get out of my slump and make me try to write more…

for the sake of the fic (and my mind) the dwarves have the same calendar system as us... I can not mentally try to convert when September 21st would be for them lol. anyways, enjoy and ignore any grammar mistakes♡

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The sound of your footsteps echoed around the grand halls of Erebor, the quiet murmurs and shuffling of all the dwarves doing their jobs filled the air as you walked toward the gates.

Thorin had dismissed Fili of his duties for the day as crown prince, allowing him to skip all his meetings he normally would be in attendance to.

As soon as Fili had gotten the news, he ran to find you so he could make sure to steal you away for the day. 

So here you currently were, making your way to where Fili was so he could surprise you with whatever he had planned for your date.

Looking back on your life now to what it was back in your world, was bizarre to say the least. You’ve grown accustomed to your new life here in Middle Earth, but it had taken you a bit to adjust to it. Having been fond of the books made you excited to live and breathe the words you had read as a kid in real life.

Finding yourself stumbling around the Shire at the same time when the company had been instructed to meet at Bilbo’s house, changed your life for the better. 

Once Thorin had begrudgingly allowed your presence into the company, you quickly learned how the quest had been a long and exhausting one. Hours and hours of the dwarves grilling you on where you came from, what your world was like, and what you were doing there had your head spinning. Eventually, it turned from weariness to genuine curiosity so you had found yourself on quiet nights around the fire, surrounded by thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard telling them about random facts from your world. 

The company slowly began warming up to you in their own ways, but you grew exceptionally close to the two younger brothers. 

Many nights with Fili and Kili had you going on and on about your life back home. Kili’s incessant questions and curiosity allowed you to run your mouth over and over about random aspects of your life and made you grow fond of him immediately. Fili, on the other hand, was a bit quieter, shaking his head at his brother’s antics and having more thoughtful questions that had you reminiscing on old memories.

Nonetheless, you began to care for them even with the many nights that had you dreading the end of the quest and the final battle that the dwarves found themselves in before reclaiming their homeland. 

You originally didn’t want to get close to any of them, the fact that you already knew their fate and they didn't, ate at you everyday. You kept your distance at first, the anticipatory grief already settling in once you had made eye contact with the brothers that very first day was already too much. And yet, you still found yourself laughing and opening up to them throughout the quest. 

Especially Fili. 

His blue eyes captivated your mind, they beckoned you to get closer to him, to ask him questions about his life back home in the Blue Mountains. About his childhood, his hobbies, his likes and dislikes; he made you fall in love with him after your very first conversation. 

Of course, you couldn’t voice that. He was the crown prince, who was currently on a quest to reclaim his motherland. 

And of course also because…the ending.

You weren’t sure how your presence in Middle Earth and on the quest would affect the outcome, but if you couldn’t change what happened, you wanted to save yourself that grief. 

And yet, when Fili presented the courting bead he had been creating late at night during the journey, you accepted it wholeheartedly. 

You were a selfish creature. 

Thankfully, you did everything in your power to keep everyone alive, after long and anxious nights of sitting by all of the Durin’s beds they all healed from the battle and began their new lives in Erebor.

You began your new life in Erebor as well, with Fili. 

A voice shouting your name shook you from your thoughts. 

“Amrâlimê, you look beautiful as ever.” Fili came into view as you processed his comment.

Smiling, you leaned over to kiss him. “Thank you, you look wonderful as well.”

Grinning, he took your hand. “Come, I have an amazing day planned for us, ghivashel.”

♡‧₊˚

Your fingers traced the lines on Fili’s hand as the two of you laid in the grass, still recuperating from the spontaneous race up the hill where you currently both laid atop of.

After a bit of silence, Fili’s voice rang in your ear. “Did you have fun, my love?” 

Sitting up on your arm, you look over at him. “Of course I did, I always enjoy myself when I’m with you.”

Fili looks over at you, “Flattery,” he grabs your hand and kisses it, “careful fair maiden, you may just create an admirer out of me with your words.”

Giggling at your mushy banter, you smile over at him. His golden waves framed his face perfectly in the fading daylight. His eyes crinkling in happiness as he looked over at you made you swoon inside.

Fili stands abruptly, extending his hand out to you. “Come, follow me, I figured we could have a picnic under the stars like old times.” 

Fili leads you off to the side into a fenced off area where you knew the few botanist dwarves cultivated their flowers. 

Once the two of you entered, your eyes were met with a blanket in the middle of the garden with an area of food and desserts displayed along with blankets that the two of you could use for the coming night chill.

“When did you do this? You were with me all day?” Your confused face followed Fili’s figure that was walking toward the sitting area.

Fili sends you a cheeky grin. “I may or may not have bribed Kili to do this for me with the guarantee that I’d cover for him with Uncle so he can sneak off with Tauriel next week.”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “Kili will do anything but confront Thorin about being with Tauriel, he needs to just suck it up and tell your Uncle he’s in love with an elf.”

Fili hums in agreement as he guides you further toward the blanket. You situate yourself as you look over the treats that Fili (Kili) had laid out for you.

The two of you quietly begin snacking as you gaze at the sky when Fili breaks the silence. “I’m very lucky to have you, amrâlimê, I thank whatever power that put you in my world because I was able to meet and love you.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn away from Fili, “you're so sappy.” Glancing at him again you smile, you never will get used to his random confessions of love he does. You don't think the butterflies will ever go away, he constantly makes your heart want to burst out of your chest with how fast it always beats around him. 

The amount of love you have for Fili has never been like anything you’ve experienced. Whenever you think or look at him your heart swells, just being in his presence sends a calming effect through you and yet simultaneously, a tsunami of intense emotion. You've never had any love like it before.

You agreed with what he said, you truly thank whatever power placed you in the Shire when it did.

“I know we don’t really see each other often since I'm so busy-” Fili begins.

“Fee, I know you have responsibilities, I understand.” 

Fili just stares and smiles at you for a second. “I know you do, Mahal, I love you so much.” After a split second he says, “I’ll be right back.”

The random shift of tone catches you by surprise eliciting a laugh from you, “What?” 

“I’ll be right back!” He gives no other explanation before running off in a direction leaving you. 

“Ok?” You’re left confused, but amused at your lover’s antics.

A few minutes pass by before you hear footsteps returning, your head turns in the direction of the sound and you find Fili’s figure holding something behind his back.

“What are you hiding,” you giggle, “What’s behind your back, Fee?” Leaning over you try to get a glimpse at the mystery behind him.

He doesn't say anything as he bends down to get on his knee so he can be closer at your eye level to your figure reclining on the ground. 

You look at him expectantly waiting for him to start.

“I wanted to make this a grand gesture, but I was panicking and Kili’s fed up with me constantly going on and on about this day but…”

Titling your head, you question, “This day?” 

Fili seems to stop his rambling and pulls his arms from behind. “It’s the 21st of September.”

You let out a surprise gasp before sitting up. You had noted on the calendar in your room that it was the 21st but expected nothing from it since you weren't in your own world.

And yet here was Fili, kneeling with yellow flowers held out in front you. 

Your eyes scan over the array of yellow flowers that were held carefully with white paper in Fili’s hands.

“How did you-?” 

Fili smiles, “During the quest, remember?”

Your mind combed through your memories, attempting to recall the conversation. 

The company had been unknowingly making the journey to Rivendell (under Gandalf’s expense) which had evoked Kili’s curious side from the exhausting trek. You and the two brothers were walking side by side toward the back, when Kili had posed you with a new question from your life back in your world.

“Tells us more about your culture,” Kili nudges you, “not just your world but you specifically.”

Catching you by surprise, you think quickly for an answer. “Hmm…well from where I’m from, there's a specific day that a person may use to confess how they feel about you.” You're not really sure what compelled you to mention this specific custom, but your mouth opened before your mind could keep up with it.

Kili’s eyes brightened with your response, so you knew you’d have to unfortunately continue with the train of thought.

“Well, on the 21st of September, if someone gives you yellow flowers, it has meaning. A lot of people from my culture see receiving yellow flowers on this day as being a very important and caring act. It’s to some, very intimate, because not many express their emotions like this so when a person does, the significance is extraordinary.” Your eyes flick back to the brothers.

Clearing your throat, you looked forward in embarrassment.

Great. You’ve just opened that can of worms out to the two brothers who you’ve barely met, as well as whoever else was currently eavesdropping in your conversation.

Not having felt the change in air with you, Kili continued to ask, “Have you been gifted yellow flowers before?”

Still not making eye contact with either of the brothers, you sighed. “No, I have not.” Clicking your tongue you continued, “I think perhaps it’s because the people who I have dated didn’t know about the meaning. I mean, even if they did, I don’t think the flowers would mean much because the relationships never worked out.” You shrugged lamely.

It’s not like you’re admitting all your past relationships were a bust, it just wasn't the type of love that was true. If any of your exes had gifted you yellow flowers, you're not sure if it would’ve had the type of impact you’ve always imagined. All your relationships had their highs, but they also had their lows, hence why they all ended and why none of them had gifted you your yellow flowers. 

You still had the hopeless romantic thought that The One would come into your life and you’d know if they were The One if they gifted you your flores amarillas like you've dreamed of. 

“Ah, well that’s interesting!” You looked over as Kili smiled at you, apparently losing interest in the conversation. Glancing at Fili, you noted that he seemingly wasn't paying attention to your entire spiel; thankfully in his own thoughts.

Your mind reels back from the memory. You knew exactly why you didn't remember that because you were embarrassed for the rest of the day because you had gotten emotional during the conversation. While you were already getting close to the brothers, you still were embarrassed that so early on you had opened up about your pathetic love life so much that you blocked it from your mind.

“I thought you weren’t listening when I was talking about that to Kili?” You questioned.

“Of course I was listening, every time you spoke I was captivated.” Fili’s smile softens.

Biting your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from grinning, you let him continue.

“When you had answered Kili's question with that, it took me by surprise but I found myself enamored by the way you spoke about the custom. So when I heard you speak about your culture, I knew it meant a lot to you not only due to the meaning but because it reminded you of your world.” He reaches a hand toward you, “While I am thankful you're here with me, I know that you also were pulled from the world you knew, so by talking about your culture it comforted you.” 

Your eyes began to water, God, you truly loved him. 

“I knew I wanted to incorporate this day in our lives so I thought what better yet than to propose to you with something that reminded you of your culture back home.” 

Your eyes widen, “I knew you were my One the moment I set eyes on you. So, will you marry me, amrâlimê? Will you grant me the privilege of spending the rest of your life in your new home with me?” 

“Of course I’ll marry you, Fili.” Leaping over you toppled both of your bodies to the ground with your hug. 

Landing on your sides, Fili pulls away quickly, “Don’t crush your flowers!” 

“Oh, oops, sorry.” You laugh before grabbing and smelling the bouquet, “Where’d you get these?” 

“Oh, I got them in Dale this morning,” 

“Oh my gosh.”

He laughs, “Yeah I’ve been writing to a botanist who has a flower shop in town, because I was wanting real yellow flowers for you.” 

“Flores amarillas.”

“What?” Fili looks at you.

“Flores amarillas, it means yellow flowers in Spanish.”

He smiles at you and slowly repeats, “flores amarillas.”

Giggling, you nodded.

Grinning at Fili, you made a mental note to teach him Spanish.

[glitchy-anime-fan]

This might be just me, maybe I’m missing something, but I feel like some people who criticise EPIC!Odysseus for killing an infant but drawing the line at sleeping with Circe might not be taking into consideration how literally every event Odysseus has face since Troy has affected him as a person and how much guilt he’s continually facing.

To preface; THIS IS NOT ME HATING ON OTHER FANS!! I’m not trying to bully anyone or make fun of anyone, this is just something that has been in my head and I need to rant about it. This also only pertains to EPIC’s depiction of Odysseus, not any other interpretation of the character/story!

[minor grammatical edits made on 2/25/2024)

I saw a discussion on here the other day where the parties involved were talking about the changes made between the original Homeric story and EPIC. One of the main points of contention that I remember was how one of them said it rubbed them the wrong way that Odysseus was fine with killing an infant but didn’t want to sleep with Circe. I can totally understand why this may be an odd choice of morality to make, however, we have to keep in mind that the Odysseus from the Troy Saga is VERY different than the Odysseus in the Circe saga. Troy Saga Odysseus appears to be far more confident in himself and his plans; one could even argue that he’s a bit cocky. As stated by Odysseus in the ocean saga, NONE of his own men died in the battle which would add to Odysseus’ confidence and pride. This is vastly different than the grief stricken Odysseus later in the story, but more on that later.

Now the infant scene in question doesn’t necessarily set in stone Odysseus’ moral/ethical code; one could say the situation itself is an ethical dilemma (a problem with no one right answer). Odysseus is told by Zeus, king of the gods, that if he doesn’t kill Hector’s baby than Odysseus’ entire family (perhaps even kingdom) is in grave danger. However, Odysseus doesn’t make a decision right away, I’m mean the entire second song of the saga is Odysseus mulling over his options; kill an infant or risk his families safety. Neither option is preferable and I think “Just a Man” is meant to show that Odysseus isn’t a man who would readily kill a child, no questions asked, just because he was told to. In “The Infant and the Horse” Odysseus is ready to comply until he discovers that the “foe” he’s meant to kill is an infant. I mean, he literally pleads with Zeus to give him another option;

[ODYSSEUS, ZEUS]

I could raise him as my own (He will burn your house and throne)

Or send him far away from home (He'll find you wherever you go)

Make sure his past is never known (The gods will make it known)

I'd rather bleed for ya, down on my knees for ya (He's bringing you down on your knees for ya)

I'm begging please

Oh, this is the will of the gods

Please don't make me do this, don't make me do this

This part alone shows that Odysseus is, in fact, NOT fine with killing a child. Again, the second song in the saga is Odysseus going over his options and even asks for forgiveness when he finally makes his decision. I don’t know about you all, but I don’t think someone who’s okay with killing a child would ask for forgiveness. In this situation it’s very likely that Odysseus made the choice to protect his family and kingdom above all else, which I feel like is a valid choice in this situation. Odysseus was told, by a god, that him and his family would be killed should the baby live, I highly doubt Odysseus at this point was readily willing to try and call Zeus’ bluff.

It’s also not like the action didn’t affect Odysseus later. Again, I’m sure someone who wouldn’t have a guilty conscience about such a heinous act would ask for forgiveness. Similarly, two songs later in “Open Arms”, Polites brings up Odysseus’ guilt at the end when he says “I see in your face, there is so much guilt inside your heart”. Odysseus is clearly guilty about what he’s done, once again reinforcing that he is not “okay with killing an infant”. You can also pick up on it in the way Jay sings Odysseus’ songs following “Just a Man”; Odysseus seems to be more distracted or distant likely due to the shock of his own actions.

Similarly, we have to take into consideration literally every new traumatic incident Odysseus is faced with between the Cyclops and Ocean sagas. In the Cyclops Saga, Polyphemus kills a large number of Odysseus’ crew which would make this the first heavy loss Odysseus’ army would have faced since the war. I can imagine that this loss would have been a huge blow to Odysseus’ pride given the fact that none of his men died in the war. Similarly, since Odysseus is their captain and king, it’s fair to assume that Odysseus may see the deaths as his fault adding to his guilt.

Not only does he lose many in his crew, Odysseus also loses his best friend Polites which greatly effects Odysseus throughout the rest of the musical. In “Keep Your Friends Close” when the crew is scheming to open the bag of wind from Aeolus, they say “Everything's changed since Polites,” referring to how much Polites’ death not only effected Odysseus but also the crew. Odysseus becomes more and more closed off and distrusting which makes sense since it seems Polites was the one that mainly pushed Odysseus to be more open. This is another death that Odysseus can tack onto the growing list of reasons his guilt is eating him alive.

Side note: Odysseus also looses the support of Athena, his patron goddess following “My Goodby”. Athena has been someone who we can assume (given Athena’s story during “Warrior of the mind”) has been guiding Odysseus since he was a child so, even if Odysseus is no longer happy with Athena’s view on being a good warrior, it likely hurt him on some level to loose her. We have to keep in mind; Odysseus also thought of Athena as a friend not just a goddess and has thought this way since he met Athena. If we assume that Athena and Odysseus have never had a fight this bad until “My Goodby” then I think it’s fair to say that the outcome of the fight would negatively impact Odysseus. He may be too prideful to admit it at the time, but I can only imagine how awful it would feel to loose the support of a friend and patron deity at the same time.

I think one of the biggest blows yet for Odysseus comes during “Ruthlessness” when Poseidon and/or the Laestrygonians sink and kill everyone but Odysseus and his immediate crew mates (as in, the crew on Odysseus ship as apposed to those on the other twelve ships). As I mentioned earlier, throughout the ten years Odysseus and his army were in Troy not one of his men died. This changed when they faced Polyphemus, and only worsens when Poseidon attacks. Odysseus goes from having a crew of 600 (at the start of the musical) to 43 following this attack. Not only does he loose nearly all his men, it’s directly Odysseus’ fault it happened in the first place. Poseidon tells Odysseus directly that they “totally could have avoided all this had [Odysseus] just killed [Poseidon’s] son”.

Had Odysseus just listened to Athena at the time and killed Polyphemus, there would have been no one left to tell Poseidon about the attack; the god likely wouldn’t have known. Likewise, had Odysseus not let his hubris get the better of him and not told Polyphemus his full name, even if Poseidon found out his son had died or was left blind, he wouldn’t have known who did it. The whole situation is directly Odysseus’ fault and Poseidon is very clear in letting him know that. This obviously is going to add to Odysseus’ guilt exponentially since this time it truly was his own actions that lead to this scenario. Not to mention that had Odysseus just apologised, Poseidon might have been gracious to the crew.

Now there’s no saying what that would look like for Poseidon, maybe he would have only sunk one or two ships or maybe he was lying, who knows. The main point is that Odysseus was given another chance to get out of this peacefully, but he can’t swallow his pride long enough to say “I’m sorry”. Odysseus instead tries to talk his way out of it and Poseidon isn’t having it; this is another instance of Odysseus’ actions resulting casualties. All of this happens before the Circe saga mind you.

So let’s review all the instances that would be causing Odysseus guilt so far:

He’s been forced to kill a child to save his family and kingdom

He’s lost his best friend and a chunk of his crew to Polyphemus

He’s lost the support of his patron goddess who he has also seen as a friend since childhood

He’s lost 90% of his crew (give or take) due to his own actions

You cannot look at this and tell me that it would not greatly affect your mental health in any way. Odysseus is being weighed down by an immense about of grief and guilt as the story continues. It gets to be so much that in Puppeteer Odysseus tells Eurylochus that while he would like to leave Circe’s island, he can “hardly sleep now knowing everything [they’ve] done”, directly referring to the guilt that keeps weighing on his mind. By this point in the story Odysseus is so wracked with guilt that he would rather risk his own life to save the few men he has left that add anymore to his guilty conscience.

I see this as one reason why Odysseus rejects Circe’s advances. Odysseus went to save his men who were transformed because he already can’t sleep and doesn’t want to add any more guilt onto his mind. Do we really think he would change this stance just so he could sleep with a goddess? The thought of cheating on Penelope would likely cause Odysseus just as much guilt as leaving his men. This situation poses a similar dilemma to the very beginning of the story; Odysseus can either comply and free his men or not. In this moment Odysseus is in a lose-lose situation, however, he doesn’t let that stop him from trying to essentially create a third option that doesn’t add to his guilt.

And he’s successful this time.

Unlike he pleaded with Zeus, is seems that for one reason or another Odysseus is successful in pleading with Circe; he is able to create a third option for himself and his crew. He’s able to create a reality where his remaining crew survives and Odysseus doesn’t add anymore to his guilt.

Again, this is not about the original story, or other interpretations, this is solely based on what we know from EPIC. In short; Odysseus pleaded and begged with Zeus not to make him kill Astyanax, to give him a third peaceful option but failed. Odysseus is given a whole song about his own moral struggle in the options given to him and is then haunted by the guilt of his actions. He is then faced with the death of his crew due to his own actions, becoming not only a point of further guilt but also a shot at his pride. Odysseus looses Athena’s favour and looses Polities. While Odysseus may have begun to cave to Circe, I believe it was ultimately his love for his family and his desire to not add to his guilt that made him reject Circe.

Odysseus was never okay with killing an infant, he felt guilty likely from the moment he made his final decision. By the time he meets Circe, Odysseus would rather attempt to talk his way out (something that hasn’t actually worked till now) than add to his guilt. I’m truly not sure what I’m missing that, in the context of the musical, this isn’t obvious. Maybe it’s because I’m taking EPIC as its own story and not a one-to-one with the source material, who knows.

Sorry this got really long, I just needed to get it out somewhere before it plaques my mind anymore. Once again, I’m not trying to hate on anyone or bully anyone, this is just my own opinion on the matter!

[mushroomnoodles]

info

mush/noodle · he/him · 21

read the FAQ?

hi. i draw sfw, nonfetish mpreg. of simon petrikov. i dont take requests unless im particular to them + simon related. but im willing to discuss and answer questions you have abt the whole.. mpreg simon thing lol, and you're always welcome to suggest things you want to see pertaining to my content, just uh.. be patient, and be aware im only gonna post simon stuff lol. i dont do a/b/o either. my blog is very fluff + angst forewarning. i aint afraid to touch heavier topics but i try my best to tw them accordingly.

i have a group of running aus and sometimes my content isn't just mpreg. im extremely uncomfortable with proship. please dont be horny on my art, i will block you. other than that im pretty chill

my art tag is #i have a mproblem, i also have #golbaby and #golbaby +1000 if youre looking for the baby or them in 1000 years. #my style is for works in my non-at art style. au tags beneath the cut :)

MAIN TIMELINE AUS (morrigan is the child of GOLBetty and the Simon in the show)

#plainvanilla the default timeline. the au color is purple. #wizardbetty (petrigrof semi-fix it au where simon is brought back in time into an alternate universe where betty survived as a budding wizard in the nuclear fallout, where he has to navigate the apocalypse while pregnant. eventually, morrigan creates a portal back to ooo, and the two try their best to get back to normal life while raising golbaby and trying to relate to humans from a time that is not their own.) the au color is blue.

#spicywizardbetty (similar to wizardbetty but simon is brought to the present day in her au. betty has full MMS and thinks he is her universe's simon come back to be with her.) the au color is the same blue as wizardbetty's.

#replacement dad (morrigan kidnaps an ice king from another universe and uses their transmutation abilities to change the wiring to bring that simon back and change the crown's appearance enchantment to make him resemble their dad. this simon, referred to as Imon or Ice Simon, is kept in morri's pocket dimension while they "fix" him.) this au has no set color. #bad end. (au where morrigan is unable to break the seal placed on them and is born 6 months after their due date; exhausted from trying to break the seal for so long, they drain the life of everything around them and it ends up killing everyone in the candy kingdom. marcy is a chaos creature now and pb is a monstrosity akin to the mother gum) this one is super angsty! the au color is grey. #forever seal (au where the seal placed on morrigan is extremely powerful and meant to be permanent, or at least until pb can figure out how to neutralize golbaby's powers; simon runs off shortly afterwards and is desperately seeking some way to break the seal on his baby. a wanted man, he travels ruins and hunts for artifacts and researches spells, while trying not to garner any attention from the townsfolk he lives with.) the au color is dark green.

#creaturewizards (arguably the most canon divergent, where wizards are all different kinds of mythical creatures. simon was turned into a sphinx and retains the species after being digested by GOLB, where betty becomes a harpy before becoming GOLBETTY. when she impregnates simon, he is expecting a whole litter instead of just morrigan.) the au color is brown.

MAJOR AUS (these universes do not feature morrigan as a golbaby, and the simons, betties, etc are different)

#candyworld (au where simon and betty are recreated as candy people, with betty being the candy elemental in pb's place. eventually she gains proper sentience with no candy person dumb dumb and overthrows pb, becoming the incredibly territorial candy witch.) the au color is pink.

#vamparents (au where simon and betty are vampires in the vampire king's inner circle, known as THE HANGED MAN and THE WORLD separately, and THE LOVERS together. betty was ambushed by a vampire before the mushroom war and was turned, before biting simon to save him from death by radiation poisoning.) the au color is maroon.

#lichtrikov (au where the host body The Lich chooses is the corpse of Simon Petrikov, unwittingly incurring GOLBetty's wrath. there is an alternate timeline of this where she impregnates him with a child meant to punish him forever by rendering him useless.) the au color is green.

#magic morri (au where magic betty and ice king stay together and have morri, who is then taken and raised by pb and marcy) the au color is teal. #dreamtime au (very tiny au following a dream i had once where magic betty turned ice king back into simon successfully after learning he was pregnant. ice king's personality is not entirely gone.) the au color is very loosely dark blue, but doesn't have a set color either.

[marciaillust]

Heyooo! It’s me again (i hope i’m not bothering you by asking questions like these) I started making a comic and I’m struggling with the typography

Any tips or recs to look? I really like your work and that’s why I am asking :)

Heyo!

I can dish out a few tips but they aren't really hard rules so take them with a grain of salt and artistic freedom.

The most important thing imo is the presentation of the text on the page. The shape and number of speech bubbles will be registered way before any of the contents so it needs to looks the part. 

The first tip would be generally avoid the speech bubbles being overly thin and long. The example below is pretty tame but believe me, I’ve read comics with the wormiest of speech bubbles and they tend to not look good.

Sometimes the automatic alignment of the text will look closer to a square (especially if there are many short words in a sentence) so feel free to go in and move the text around via the enter key so it looks more like the rhombus. You won't always be able to achieve it especially if the first word in a sentence is long (e.g. the word "hypothetically") but a rhombus should be the goal.

While we're on the topic of speech bubbles I like mine to have really short "tails" (the bits that indicate who is speaking), unless I REALLY want to make sure the reader knows who is speaking in a scene.

 Also I always make the tails point directly towards characters mouth unless it would make the scene confusing (for example if two characters have mouths really close to each other or something, I might make one tail point a bit higher/lower/to the left/right to differentiate between the two speakers. But that’s like a super specific problem and could be avoided with proper frame layout.)

And like, never skip the tails unless its the same character monologuing at length. Nothing breaks emersion more than when you have to stop and turn into an investigator to determine who is speaking in a scene.

Now for the fonts themselves, in my opinion the size of text should be unified between speech bubbles and across pages when it comes to a single font. Example, all casual speech - arial, 14; all thought bubbles - Calibri, 15. 

That is of course unless there is artistic merit to changing the font and/or font's size. Making someone yell, suggesting a threat or sarcasm, indicating a playful tone or something akin to that -  lean into what you're trying to communicate visually.

All fonts are not made equal and sometimes you will have to adjust things manually e.g. letter spacing or line spacing. Generally I try to keep the spacing the same regardless of the font, e.g. "yay exciting" had massive gaps between the lines which I've shrunk to make it look more visually cohesive with the rest of the dialogue. Same with these ones:

At the end of the day typography and everything pertaining to speech bubbles is design work and what designs do is communicate a message and serve a function. I’ve had this picture saved on my pc for years now (reverse google search doesn’t tell me who made it but it’s like the bible to me so I will share it, I am almost certain it was made by tryinghuman but I might be wrong):

Really every part of a speech bubble can be “designed” down to a single word. The position of text, fonts, the shape of the bubble etc. And every change will culminate in an effect and the goal is to have that effect reflect what you’re going for.

Make it legible or illegible, make it see-through, capitalise one word, cover speech bubbles up with other objects, make them crack or fall apart. Not every speech bubble needs special treatment! But once in a while it’s nice to throw something different in to spice things up.

Also, and this is a rule that was bestowed upon me during a graphic design class, don’t use more than 3 fonts per page (again, unless there is artistic merit to it like e.g. purposefully trying to communicate a sense of chaos. Otherwise it just looks a bit unprofessional. In my opinion anyway.)

And the last thing I will say, and this mostly applies to comics in English, is some “speech” fonts include capital “I”s both with and without serifs. The serif I should generally be reserved for the pronoun “I”.

There is so much more when it comes to text in comics like the flow of bubbles across pages, splicing text across bubbles for communicating speech patterns or intentions of the characters, and there are tutorials about it out there but I wasn’t able to find my favourites on command............. sorry................ But I’m peppering this in just so you’re on the lookout for all the other cool things that go into comic making :)

Hope this helped!

[that-ari-blogger]

Idealism

One reading of Wicked that I have noticed to be particularly popular is as a love story between Glinda and Elphie, and I actually subscribe to this idea. What Is This Feeling is often interpreted as a love song, repressed emotions and all that, but here is where I disagree.

Wicked is a satire, and so What Is This Feeling is a satire of the love-at-first-sight trope. The relationship takes time, and doesn't actually work out in the end, that's part of the tragedy of the story.

I would argue that this song sets up why the romance falls apart, but also why it is so compelling to discuss.

Let me explain.

Spoilers Ahead

According to the Cabridge Dictionary, "Idealism" can be defined as the following:

"The belief that your ideals can be achieved, often when this does not seem likely to others"

There are other definitions pertaining to philosophy and principals, but this is the definition I will be working under, and here is the interesting question: Of the two named characters present in What Is This Feeling, who is the idealist? I will come back to this.

A massive attraction of the Glinda x Elphaba ship is the idea that opposites attract, and that certainly seems to be on display here. The opening of the song establishes once again who these characters are, and while their relationships with family is interesting, my favourite example of their dynamic is this:

"There's been some confusion for you see my roommate is..."

"Unusually and exceedingly peculiar and all together quite impossible to describe."

"Blonde"

Thats some good character writing right there. Galinda is almost aggressively indirect, dancing around the subject to avoid actually saying anything, while Elphaba is direct, and realistic. It's a neat little comedy beat, and this song is comedic in nature, but it's also fascinating.

This is our first look at the old Galinda, and she's... a schemer. She doesn't do anything herself, instead preferring that others take action or even say things for her. She will take an artsy path to ensure someone else walks down the road the way she wants them to.

Galinda is charismatic and has weaponised that fact.

Elphaba, on the other hand, is awkward and blunt, but intelligent, and there is something to that. There is a stereotype of historical witchcraft as "women who were clever" and while there is some truth to it, history rejects simplicity.

I recommend Crash Course's video on the subject but put simply: The Witch-hunts in history were based almost entirely on fear and anger, with the remainder made up of prejudice and superstition. Encyclopedia Brittanica puts the number of people killed between forty-thousand and sixty thousand, both men and women (I couldn't find any explicit mention of non-binary folk executed for witchcraft, so I guess we got out of this one. Good work team).

What is important to understand is that witches were societal outcasts, anyone who there was prejudice against could be tried as a witch. Women who were mildly intelligent or, heaven forbid, had opinions, were often targets of this prejudice in such a heavily patriarchal society.

So, where does Elphaba slot into this? Well, she's an outcast from society because of her skin colour, and she's clever. She is very intentionally invoking the history and popular culture depiction of the witch (something her original incarnation in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz definitely contributed to) to invoke sympathy in the audience, or at least, to invoke antipathy for those who call her a witch.

The rest of this song doubles down on the differences between the two, and the fact that this causes them to fall apart instead of together is important here.

"My pulse is rushing"

"My head is reeling"

"My face is flushing"

"What is this feeling?"

This the setup for a love song, right? These are symptoms of powerful emotions and at this point in a romantic story, you would expect the meet cute. But the song pulls the rug out from underneath you.

"Loathing

Unadulterated loathing"

Love at first sight is rare in real life, but it is common in fiction. The prince and princess meet and fall instantly head over heels, etc. But once again, Wicked is a satire, and it goes in a different direction. Part of this musical is the relationship between these two being built up from scratch, and this song establishes that baseline.

But why do these two fall apart in the end? I mentioned that this song foreshadows that, and what did I mean by that?

I asked earlier on in this post which one of the two witches is the idealist, and I think the answer is Elphaba. She believes in honesty and kindness and is hopeful to a fault (remember The Wizard And I?), which is in contrast to Galinda's remarkably utilitarian mindset. Galinda says what she needs to say and wants nothing more than the spotlight.

Don't get me wrong, wanting attention isn't a sin, that's not what I mean here. I'm trying to say that Galinda doesn't have far reaching dreams for herself, she wants personal happiness, nothing more. Or so she thinks.

My thesis for this series about the songs in Wicked is that the musical is about the collision of dreams and reality, and its interesting how that works with the characters.

Galinda is incredibly shallow, but she ends up getting inspired by her friend. Elphaba's hope and ideals brush off on Galinda over time, not enough to be noticeable to her, but enough that when Galinda gets everything she wants, she is unsatisfied.

That's why the relationship doesn't work out in the end. Elphaba has ambitions to make the world a better place, and Galinda doesn't realise that she does too until it is far too late.

Final Thoughts

Please don't misinterpret this post. This isn't that Glinda x Elphaba is a bad ship or even that it isn't a valid reading of the story. It is, and I will explain in future posts as to why that is the case. All I am trying to say is that this song is explicitly antiromantic, and that factors into the queer reading of the musical.

I will, however, say this: "Gelphie" is such an awful name for a ship. Like, come on folks, you could have gone with anything, but "Gelphie"?

In all seriousness, this is the third post in a series about Wicked, next week I will be talking about Dancing Through Life, a song that is remarkably complex for a character trying his hardest to be simple. So, stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Shifting Wings: Chapter Four

Shifting Wings: Before the Raven Matthew, there was Jessamy, and Jessamy came with a little sister by the name of Adrienne. Dream adores his two little Ravens, but after over a hundred years of imprisonment and the death of Jessamy, Dream will find that he has not just lost his companion, but his beloved little Raven Adrienne no longer brightens the halls of his Palace. None of his staff wish to speak of where the Raven has gone, but the silent new resident of the palace is cause for question. After all, she was the one who aided in his release. If none of his subjects would help him find Adrienne, perhaps she could lead him to the whereabouts of the missing Raven. If only the woman wasn’t so flighty and hard to track down.

Warnings: Angst.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x FemaleRaven!Reader, NAMED Reader (I like the name).

Word Count: ~2.1k

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1916, The Dreaming

Morpheus was reading to you, a past time you had wormed out of him much to his confusion for why you wanted him to read to you. You knew perfectly well how to read these days, could flip your own pages, had read an innumerous amount of books since becoming a raven. But he found that it was, at times, hard to say no to you. He would never admit that he enjoyed your active seeking of his company. So here he was with you perched on the arm rest of his throne while he read you one of the newest books to appear in the library.

It was a book of poems, The Road Not Taken, by a mortal named Robert Frost, you found that you rather liked listening to the poems. Or maybe it was Morpheus’s voice. You liked the sound of it just as much. Morpheus finished up the last poem in the book and slowly closed the heavy leather bound book.

“Are you still awake, my raven?” Morpheus softly asked, knowing that on occasion, you fell asleep. A sight he rather enjoyed. But no, you had not fallen asleep this time and waddled your way to the end of the arm rest.

“Quite so,” You replied, tilting your head. “And I don’t always fall asleep.” Morpheus raised an eyebrow in counter and you stamped your foot. “I mean it! I’m listening!”

“So you say,” Morpheus echoed, enjoying the way you worked yourself up. It was when your true personality shone the brightest and your melancholy of being a raven was momentarily forgotten. Morpheus’s eyes dropped to the little anklet wrapped around your left leg. It had a little ruby hanging off of it that matched the one he wore around his neck. It was a gift that he had gotten you  years past after Jessamy mentioned your birthday.

While mortal celebrations such as birthdays were not celebrated within The Dreaming, Jessamy had planned out a small party for your 150th birthday. Many of the palace staff had given you unique trinkets from around the realm, even some found in other realms. Morpheus had mulled over what gift to give you, knowing that you already had all material possessions you could want. Certainly when it pertained to your passion of art. Jessamy had saved the day once again, suggesting that you would love something he created.

Morpheus had thought a ruby would be appropriate, as the red color fit nicely against your midnight and pearl colored feathers. It was also nice to have every visitor in the realm see that you were his beloved raven. You had glowed when he presented to you and you glowed every time it was mentioned, and then showed it off to anyone who would look.

“You’re staring, am I molting again without realizing it? Do I have pin feathers sticking out?” You asked, titling your head to the side before turning in a circle and inspecting your plumage. You couldn’t see any wayward feathers… but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

“Be at peace, Adrienne, for there is naught a single feather out of place,” Morpheus assured you, fingers catching the side of your face and drawing your gaze back to his. “I was merely appreciating the divine Corvus perched upon my throne.”

“You’re flattering me… what are you about to do?” You accused him, narrowing your eyes at Morpheus and once again, hitting the nail on the head. Morpheus sighed at your ability to see through him.

“Adrienne…”

“No,” You tutted, hopping a few paces so you were out of reach of his bewitching touch. “I know when you and Jessamy are about to leave The Dreaming, you are consistently trying to get in my good graces. Where are you off to this time?”

“A Nightmare has gone rogue, Jessamy and I will be setting out to retrieve him.” Morpheus explained, running the back of his fingers down your neck. You stared hard into his eyes for a few moments before deciding that he was telling the truth. Not that he had ever told you an untruth.

“A rogue Nightmare,” You mused to yourself, mind thinking over who the fool was to go against Morpheus. “Which one? And why are you going to retrieve them? Can’t you just tell one of the others to go get him?”

Morpheus shook his head.

“I fear that it is one of the great arcana’s, that has strayed from his task.” He explained to you. “I shall go and retrieve him myself.” When it became apparent that Morpheus wasn’t going to tell you who had strayed from their task, you pressed further.

“You didn’t answer which one rebelled.” You pointed out. Morpheus, try as he might, couldn’t hide everything from you. You were the sibling of Jessamy and neither of you missed anything. You took a threatening step (it was hardly threatening to the Endless) towards Morpheus. “Who was it!?”

“Adrienne,” Morpheus started to speak, you cut him off.

“This isn’t something you need to protect me from!” You pointed out. “If it’s a threat to The Dreaming then I should know! You know ignorance is the biggest threat of them all.” Morpheus disagreed, sometimes knowing was far more dangerous, but he wouldn’t argue with you. He didn’t want to argue with you.

“I fear that it is The Corinthian who has gone astray,” Morpheus admitted to you, drawing a finger to the underside of your beak. “But you are not to interfere, Adrienne.” He warned you, his eyes sparkling with his astral power for a moment. “Am I clear?”

You weren’t so rebellious to not recognize a serious warning that you’d do well to heed.

“How bad is it?” You asked quietly, slumping where you stood, worry now filling your tiny body. Morpheus gaze turned gentle once more.

“Have no fear for Jessamy and I, my precious Adrienne, we are only going out to retrieve the Corinthian.” Morpheus soothed and reassured you. “We shall be back before you finish your sketch.”

“I told you that I only have an hours work left.“ You said skeptically.

“Precisely,” Morpheus spoke before rising from the throne and setting the book aside. He summoned his helm and donned it, then turned back to you. “Wait for me, Adrienne, and we shall start the next book in our stack. There is nothing to worry about,” He promised, then drawing out his pouch of sand, you watched as Morpheus transported himself from the realm.

“Then why do I have a bad feeling?” You whispered to an empty throne room.

You were mindlessly dragging your pencil across parchment, in a trance and dissociating from your surroundings. The only sound in your studio was the scratching of your pencil and your little feet twisting around on your work table. Lowering the pencil from the parchment, you examined the sketch of Morpheus with Jessamy perched on his shoulder. You didn’t know why you felt so composed to sketch it. Maybe it was the fact that despite Morpheus giving you his word that he would be back within an hour, both of them had yet to return after three hours.

Then again, time was weird within The Dreaming, so perhaps you had once again let it pull you into its grasp. Your head turned to the silent clock hanging on the wall. No. It had been three hours since Jessamy and Morpheus left. Late. Dream of the Endless was never late. Dream of the Endless never broke his promises. The pencil slipped from your grasp and you let it roll along the table and fall to the floor.

“I’d hate to harass Lucienne, but this is not normal.” You spoke to yourself, not able to hold back the growing worry within your small body. Abandoning the sketch, you took flight and opened a hole in the realm to fly directly to the library. Flying from your art studio to the library, you soared through the shelves and spotted Lucienne shelving a stack of books. You flared your wings and coasted down, landing on the top of the shelf. Lucienne looked up at you.

“Hello Adrienne, what brings you by the library.” You shifted your wings nervously, not wanting to bother her, but knowing that something was indeed wrong.

“Morpheus and Jessamy aren’t back yet,” You explained softly. “It’s been three hours.” Lucienne’s eyebrow went up and she adjusted her spectacles.

“Perhaps they found other business to attend to,” Lucienne offered.

“He promised he wouldn’t even be an hour, Luce, he said to wait for him,” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “He— he promised.”

That had Lucienne’s back going ramrod straight, for she knew that when Morpheus made promises, especially to you, he always kept his word. There was no one in the universe that Morpheus cherished more than you, and if he hadn’t kept a promise to you? Something was gravely wrong.

“Can you still feel Jessamy?” Lucienne asked, knowing that you and Jessamy were connected through your shared blood. You bobbed your head and shuffled in place, your ruby anklet jangling.

“Yes, that was the first thing I checked when the hour was up. You know Jess, she doesn’t play around, she’d make sure they found Cori and brought him back. She wouldn’t let anything get in their way. If they were going to change plans they’d tell me,” You said, your true anxiety leeching into your voice. “Luce, I haven’t heard anything from them.”

Everyone in the palace waited for Morpheus to return. Some with bated breath, others sure that the Endless simply had gotten caught up in business. But then days turned into weeks, and weeks to months. Soon years were trickling by, Endless and raven still missing. You always kept hope in your heart, certain that they would come back. They wouldn’t leave you all alone. But they never came and you sat perched on the armrest of Morpheus’s throne, waiting.

You didn’t know if it was your faith in Morpheus and Jessamy that kept you waiting, or your love for them. Jessamy was your rock, grounding you to The Dreaming and keeping you stable in your immortal life. Morpheus was the one who held you heart. To lose either of them would hurt you irreparably.

Night and day you sat there, waiting. It felt like agony to you, and it was by Lucienne and Mervyn’s despair that you barely took care of yourself. You often found yourself curled up on Morpheus’s throne, hoping that when you woke up they would be there. That Morpheus would be staring down at you in amusement as he chastised you for sleeping in his seat. You would give anything to be chastised by him again. But they never came back. Jessamy never came swooping back into the throne room. Morpheus never returned in a swirl of starry eyes and dark hair.

Then one day, nearly ten years after their disappearance, you were numbly helping Lucienne shelve books in the library. She had convinced you to leave the throne room, a very rare occurrence. Clicking across the table full of books, you were about to tug the next book of a pile when a blinding pain hit your chest and you let out a scream. Lucienne spun around to look at you just as your body flopped onto the table top and you convulsed.

Pain was blistering all over your body, like hot rocks were digging into your flesh. You flailed, your wings flapping like crazy while you struggled to breathe. Just as quickly as that blinding pain had come, it disappeared and you were left feeling a deep emptiness. While you gasped for air and tried to understand what had just happened, Lucienne’s hands gently righted your twisted body.

“Adrienne!?” Lucienne called, alarmed by your scream and worried that something terrible had happened. “Adrienne what happened?” You whimpered, knowing exactly what the hollowed emptiness you felt was. Not able to hold back your choked sob, you let out another terrible scream as tears dripped from your eyes.

“She’s gone!” You choked out, your wings flapping against the wood as you tried to grasp onto something to stop you from truly breaking down. Lucienne didn’t understand what you meant by ‘she’s gone’ at first, but the more your writhed around and the more you cried, the further her heart sank in her chest.

Only one event would cause you this much pain.

Lucienne collected you within her arms and held you against her chest to stop your thrashes, fearing that you would only hurt yourself. But in the end, nothing she could say or do would ever soothe the hurt you felt.

Date Published: 5/24/23

Last Edit: 5/24/23

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[so-long-soldier-writes]

Commitments

elijah mikaelson x fem!reader x kai parker | requested

summary: an argument breaks out when kai learns about elijah’s plan to propose to you. he had been making these plans himself, he just hadn’t expected the other man to do it without letting him know first. luckily, you intervene mid-fight and are able to settle it between them, proposing an agreement that suits you all

tags: poly relationship, arguments, talks of marriage, happy ending, fluff

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i hate the title, but not being able to title it was the only thing stopping me from publishing the request, which i didn’t want to do, so it’s kind of a bad title and i’m sorry about that. but, i hope you like it!

The minute you leave to go to your lunch date with Rebekah, Kai confronts the other man in your life about a small box he found in his nightstand. 

“What do you plan on doing with it?” He tries to square up the original after hearing it is, in fact, a ring. 

“I know you spent a lot of your life locked away, but I think you know why one would usually buy a ring.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. Are you going to propose to her?”

“If you must know, yes, I was planning on it.”

“You can’t do that,” he starts, only to be interrupted.

“And why not?”

“Because I was going to.”

“You must be joking. You don’t have the devotion for marriage, Malachai.”

“Maybe I do. How would you know?”

“Because I know you. We have been in this relationship for two years. We know each other just as much as we know her.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Elijah. I am devoted. Devoted to her.”

“I know you are. But what about marriage? It’s something else entirely.”

“Are you suggesting I’m not capable of it?”

“I’m merely suggesting that you are not able to handle something so binding. Marriage is a commitment.”

“I’ve been committed to your dumbass all these years.”

“You have, for her.”

“So what’s the problem then?”

Elijah sighs, “let’s not make this an argument.”

“Me? You’re the one starting shit!”

“Malachai, I-”

“And don’t fucking call me that, you know I hate it. Why do you think you get to propose to the girl we’re both dating? She can’t ride off into the sunset with you and leave me behind, and how do you know she even wants to marry you?”

“So now you’re telling her what she can and cannot do. That’s never a good sign of a healthy relationship, Mal-”

“Shut up! Stop calling me that! And I’m not telling her what to do, I’m only saying that there’s three of us in this relationship, and you can’t just break it up like that.”

“Of course we would work out the details later, but it is imperative that I-”

“No! We work out the details before we ask the life-changing decisions! And funnily enough, I was actually going to ask you about similar details when I found your little box - which, by the way, you should hide better - because I have been wanting to go out and buy my own little box for her, because I do love her, and I am willing to make that commitment!”

“It’s not a little box, Mal… Kai, it’s a ring.”

“I know that.”

“And did you just say you wanted to propose too?”

“Yes, I did. But unlike you, I care about her feelings towards you, so I wanted to ask you before I made any rash decisions.”

“I care about how she feels for you, Kai, I just planned to ask those questions pertaining to you after I asked the question.”

“Why after? Why not before? Why so secretive?”

“Kai, I’m not in the mood for doing this with you-”

“Actually, it makes so much sense. You’ve been really standoff-ish lately, and I’m guessing this is why. But why the attitude, huh? Guilt, maybe? Pity?”

“You’re taking this too far. I have not been meaning to come off a certain way. You are projecting your own fears onto me.”

“I cannot deal with your thousand year old pretentious vampire talk right now, Elijah, I-”

“Well I cannot deal with your sensitive, baby vampire feelings. So may I suggest we both end this before we drive ourselves crazy?!”

“I am not sensitive! You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

“I do, actually, quite know. And I know that you hate to admit it, but you are being sensitive, because you love Y/N so much and the thought of not having her kills you.”

“So then why are you taking her from me?! Why did you go and buy that-” 

“What’s going on?!” You shout into the room, effectively shutting up the two men. You could hear their muffled yelling from outside, tension settling in your bones at the noise. 

They both stop and stare at you. 

“Y/N,” Elijah coughs, “I thought you were meeting with my sister.”

“Something came up so we rescheduled. Why are you two arguing?”

It’s dead silent. 

“You better tell me right now. I thought we got over the two of you fighting.”

Kai wants nothing more than to spit out the truth, but the original would crucify him. Thankfully, Elijah sighs, “we are having a minor disagreement.”

“About what?”

“About you,” Kai says quietly.

“Yeah, I got that. Would someone like to expand?”

“I wanted to propose to you, Y/N,” Elijah finally admits. “But I hadn’t told Kai about this plan yet, so when he found the ring, he became upset.”

Your stomach flips, “propose? Elijah…”

“I love you, Y/N. You are the woman I want to spend my eternity with. But as it turns out, Malachai feels the same, he just hadn’t taken the same steps yet.”

“The steps?”

“I didn’t buy a ring because I wanted to make sure it was okay with him if I asked. But Elijah over here decided he’d just ask me after asking you,” Kai supplies. 

“You both?”

They nod. 

“Oh my god.” You sit down in the nearest chair to think. “God… I love you both, so much.”

“Would you?” Elijah starts, then continues when you look up at him, “marry one of us?”

“‘Lijah… I love you. I do want to live forever with you. But Kai, I love you, too. I can’t choose between you guys.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?”

“I’m saying I can’t marry either of you. I can’t break your hearts; I can’t commit to one; I can’t make that decision. I won’t.”

“But… you still want to be with us, right?” Kai stutters out, afraid your rejecting words are a break up. 

You turn to him immediately, “of course, Kai. That’s what’s stopping me from marrying either of you. I need you both in my life. If marriage is going to divide us, I don’t want it.”

“But Y/N, it’s the opposite. It’s what brings people together.”

“‘Lijah… marriage is a binding process sanctioned by the government. We can live and love without a piece of paper telling us to do that. We can be happy just being us.”

Kai visibly softens at your words. His shoulders relax and jaw untenses. “I am just happy to be with you, Y/N. Elijah, please say you agree.”

The more traditional man takes longer to give into the idea. 

“I love our relationship just the way it is,” you tell him. “And, since you already bought the ring, I will still wear it, if you want. Kai, you too. I can wear them both. As a symbol of our love, without going through all the yucky legal stuff to have it.”

Elijah sighs before smiling and agreeing. “An anti-proposal proposal. I’m for it.”

A huge smile takes over your face and you rush to hug them both. They return the favor with the same enthusiasm. 

“Now, if we may, I was going to give Bex my whole afternoon, but now I have nothing to do! Might my favorite boys join me on the bed with a movie?”

Kai springs up at the word ‘movie,’ and immediately fetches popcorn and snacks. You give Elijah one more kiss, thank him for agreeing to your wishes, and then send him off to find a movie. 

For the rest of the day, you lie cuddled in between your boys, sharing candy and kisses, until exhaustion settles in your bones. 

“Sleep, Y/N,” Elijah mutters, “we’ve got you.”

“We love you,” Kai mumbles, half asleep himself. 

You kiss both their hands, then start to drift off into a deep sleep. “I love you both, too.”

[ljnsdump]

What a Plot Twist You Were (Jisung x F!reader)

Jisung x F!reader

You can't force chemistry to exist where it doesn't, the same way you can't deny it when it does.

Genre: M/F, slight enemies to lovers, fluff, classmates, school setting no mature scenes because im not ready to imagine jisung in those scenes

Warnings: just a lot of bickering and probably cursing here and there, y/n is a spoiled brat

Word Count: 3,999

Hello! A Jisung oneshot because the man finally has an IG acc haha. As always, dont hesitate to give me feedbacks! Enjoy reading!

Read at your own risk.

------

"Y/N, don't make me let you pull out from that modelling." Her mom warns her sternly. "This is your final semester in high school. You'll be graduating soon and you will not be able to do that if you keep this up."

She rolls her eyes, knowing that her teacher is snitching on her again. As they should though. "Ma, it's fine. My grades are enough for me to be accepted in any university."

"No it's not!" She argues and puts the utensils down on the table that caused a loud sound. Y/N's dad holds her as if to calm her down. "Universities would prioritize those with higher grades and has better knowledge on the courses they want to take than you do."

"Whatever, you'll still get them to accept me anyway."

And that's the time both parents realized that they raised a spoiled brat.

It's monday and everybody is in their first class of the day.

"Okay class, as you may know this is your final semester. We will make sure that no one gets left behind so we came up with a way. We will do the buddy system. You guys will be paired up to your buddy and you will be responsible for each other for the rest of the semester. If one doesn't pass, the other will be questioned, so help each other out. If you have topics that are hard for you both, try to come up with ways so you both will be able to understand it. You can always come to me, other teachers and even students."

They all agreed and chose their buddy. Then Y/N and Jisung come into the room at the same time but from different doors. Y/N enters the front door with her ipad and coffee while Jisung comes in from the back with just his pen and a notebook.

Their teacher notices them both. "Oh good. You're both here." She says and looks at them back and forth. "You will be each other's buddy. You will be paired up for all school work for the entire semester. You will be responsible for each other's grades."

"What?" Y/N's eyebrows furrow. She heard what her teacher said perfectly but she just couldn't accept it. "He's not that smart! You're pairing me with someone who can't help me."

"You’re late, Miss Y/L/N. Both of you are. Everyone already chose who they wanted to be their pair. It's just the two of you remaining." She answers with stern voice. "And we tried pairing you up with Yunjin before." Pertaining to their top student in class. "But you ended up just letting her do everything."

Y/N looks at Jisung. "You're not saying anything about this?"

He just shrugs and goes to his seat. Y/N groans and does the same.

"Alright. Listen up. First task."

Jisung was the one who stood up first when class ended. He was about to exit the room when Y/N called him. "Park Jisung!"

He turns with an annoyed look on his face. "What?"

She walks to him. "Why did you not say anything earlier when she paired us? You know well both fail."

"I'm not that bad." He replies that she scoffs.

"Fine! Then what should we do about that stupid reporting?"

"I have to go. Just chat with me about your ideas and whatever." He starts to walk away.

And she follows his strides. "I don't have your number!"

"WhatsApp, Messenger, IG, Twitter." He lists down. "It's 2023."

Y/N scoffs in disbelief.

After class, she meets with her best friend who was with her boyfriend at a cafe nearby. They're both in 12th grade, Ningning is in a different class though.

"Hey, who's your pair?" Ningning, as soon as she sees Y/N.

Y/N groans and rolls her eyes. "Park Jisung."

"That sloppy, rugged soccer player?"

She nods. "Yup." Popping end of the word. "Hey, Jun." Y/N casually greets Ningning’s boyfriend who's playing on his phone.

"Oh, sup Y/N." And offers to bump fists.

She accepts with her fist as well. "Nothing much."

"Okay, let's order first." They all sit. "Love, what do you want?"

"A reuben would do, love." He replies.

They spent the remainder of the day talking about their lives and spilling teas.

When she got home, she decided to try out reading about the topic of their report but just minutes later, she plopped down on her bed because she got bored.

Y/N takes out her phone and decides to look for Jisung's account on messenger.

To: Park Jisung

Hey, what are we gonna do about this?

And she finished having dinner and even went to prepare for bed, he still hasn't replied yet.

To: Park Jisung

Park Jisung!

Still no reply. She runs her fingers over her hair in frustration. Jisung has two close friends, she remembered. Y/N looks up the name Zhong Chenle and the Chinese guy's photo pops up.

To: Zhong Chenle

Hey, just wondering if you're with Jisung. Please tell him to check his phone, we have to work on our project.

Just minutes later, a notification pops up saying she has a new message from Jisung.

From: Park Jisung

What?

Oh my god, he's unbearable, she thought.

To: Park Jisung

The project.

From: Park Jisung

Send me your thoughts and ideas about it.

To: Park Jisung

I have no thoughts nor any idea about it.

From: Park Jisung

Then what are we supposed to do?

To: Park Jisung

Idk, let's just meet up tomorrow after class to figure this out.

"Bro, what the hell." Jisung grunts as he puts his phone down and picks up the xbox controller. "She wants me to meet up with her after class. Why did we get paired up, we have no idea about these."

Jisung is currently in Sungchan's place with Chenle. They're playing video games like how they do every single day and not getting tired of it. "Finally you can get some." Chenle teases him.

"I heard she's double-jointed." Jisung's eyebrows furrow at Sungchan's joke, and looks at him with disgust on his face. While Sungchan and Chenle high five.

Jisung walked to Y/N's seat when their class ended. He watched her gather her things in a hurry and was surprised to see him.

"What?" She asks, forgetting that they planned to meet for their project today.

His eyebrows furrow, confused as well. "I thought we'll meet after class?"

"Oh yeah. About that, meet's cancelled. I have to go. Let's just pay someone to do that report." Then she takes off before he can say anything. Better for him though, he'll have the whole time to play his beloved games.

Y/N meets with her handler in a cafe after driving almost half an hour from the university.

"I'm here." She announces and gives a quick friendly hug from behind to her handler Joy. "Let's go?"

Joy turns to her as she stands up. "Okay, good. Let's go. Our client is very chic and very boss lady vibes, Y/N. She's picky and she definitely knows what she wants."

"That's cool. You know I'm here to impress."

"I do." Joy smiles as they walk fast towards the building across the cafe. "I've sent your file to them already. You've looked over the products that you'll be modelling for?"

"Yes, the jewelleries. I actually even own a couple of pieces from their brand. They're nice."

When they arrive, a tall lady in formal attire welcomes them.

"Hi, I'm Seulgi, Mrs. Laviste's assistant. She's waiting for you in her office."

The local company rents both the 3rd and 4th floors of the building for their offices and manufacturing facilities.

They arrive at the office, the woman stands up upon seeing them with a big smile to greet. "Welcome to Ligaya! I'm Flora Laviste, you can call me Mrs. Laviste." Offering her hand which Joy gladly took.

"This is my talent." Joy gestures to Y/N. "Y/N."

Y/N smiles and shakes hands with her as well. "Y/N Y/L/N."

"From what I heard, you're the youngest of Mr. And Mrs. Timothy Y/L/N, is that right?"

"Yes." She smiles. "Yes, I am."

They discuss for a few minutes in Flora's office then go to their in-house studio to shoot a few shots as a demo just for them to see how their products would look on her.

"We reviewed everything and we've decided to take you guys on your offer. She's very good." Nodding her head, applauding Y/N's skills. "We'll do the shoot on Saturday morning."

Friday came and it's time for them to present their report. Y/N came early to school to get the report she paid a college student for.

Holding the flashdrive in her hand, she thanks Yeri. "Thanks a lot Yeri! I really just can't do this on my own."

Yeri smiles. "No worries, Y/N. It was easier for me since we've been over the topic a couple of times already. I sent the file to you too through email."

Y/N sat beside Jisung when she arrived in their classroom. She specifically instructed him to come in early. "We just read what's on the presentation." She tells him.

His eyes shift, obviously in doubt. "Sure?"

"Yeah."

"Park and Y/N, you're up." Their teacher announces after the pair prior to them were done with theirs.

They set up on the computer and in no time, the first page of the slide flashes on the white board through the projector. 

"Our topic, the three main classes of carbohydrates." Y/N starts. She then continues to casually read the passages on the PowerPoint presentation which raises a brow of their teacher.

She stands up from her desk and walks towards the center walkway. "Pause, Ms. Y/L/N." The teacher raises her index finger. "You can't just click continuously on those pages without discussing them."

Y/N immediately protests. "But Mrs. Lim, these are self-explanatory."

"Good, then please explain them." She crosses her arms. "And Mr. Park, don't just stand there. Help out your buddy."

The two groans silently upon hearing their teacher's statement. Then Y/N looks at Jisung. "Help me explain it."

"You said it's self-explanatory." He whispers.

"I didn't think she'd let us explain it still after I said that."

After a few minutes of waiting and just looking at the two infront murmuring at each other, Mrs. Lim figures out they got nothing. "Alright, you two. Something's making me think that you both did not make this. I'm gonna let you re-do it this weekend and when we come back on Monday, I want you both to be able to explain and discuss it properly or else this reflects on my record book. Understand?"

Y/N grunts and removes her things from the desk to go back to her seat.

"Let's meet tomorrow morning." Jisung tells her.

"Can't, I have something very important. Afternoon."

"I have something important to do in the afternoon."

Y/N throws her pen to the floor, stomping her feet like a little kid throwing tantrums. "Why did we ever agree to this?!"

Jisung stands tall in front of her with a serious look on his face. "Don't throw tantrums on me, Y/N." He warns with his deep ass voice. "I'm not one of your maids."

"I-I didn't think you were." She nervously replies, blinking and shying away from his eyes. "I was just upset."

"Let's meet tonight."

"Mine or yours?"

"Mine."

At 7pm, Y/N arrives at the convenience store near Jisung's apartment. She immediately texts him.

To: Park Jisung

I'm here.

Hey!

Dude!

Park Jisung!

It's very cold here.

I'm gonna kill you.

8 minutes later

From: Park Jisung

Just hang on.

To: Park Jisung

I've been hanging on you idiot.

3 minutes later

From: Park Jisung

I'm coming down.

He, in his black hoodie and sweatpants approaches her and she almost had a heart attack. He looks like a kidnapper on his fit, the only thing that made her realize it is him is his nose. Weird.

"You look scary." She tells him.

He shrugs. "Yeah? Well... let's go."

They start to walk, her, following him from behind.

"Walk slowly."

"This is my normal pace. Your legs are just short."

Y/N stops and crosses her arms while watching him walk away. He did not notice until he finally crossed the road. He looks back and Y/N is still on the other side, glaring at him. Jisung can't help but laugh and put his hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he waits for the lights to go red again.

From: Park Jisung

Stay there.

Although she's far, he can see clearly that she rolled her eyes after reading his text.

As soon as the red light appears, he runs to her and grabs her wrist lightly, and they cross the street.

"Dickhead." She mumbles.

The apartment is definitely Jisung's, Y/N thought upon getting in. Empty red bull cans, chips packets, everything is everywhere. Chenle and Sungchan are there too, yelling at each other as they play.

Y/N looks at Jisung, suggestively while crossing her arms again.

He sighs. "Come on, guys. You need to go." Telling his two friends.

"What?! I thought we were---" Sungchan stops when he sees Y/N and the look on her face. "Time to go."

Chenle removes the headphones from his head. "So what if she's here, it's not like she's staying long anyway. And besides, bros over hoes."

Jisung immediately smacks his head. "That's the red bull talking."

"Oh yeah, she's the first. I'll consider." Chenle adds and this time Y/N is the one glaring at him.

Once they're out, Jisung kicks things out of the way. "My room is clean." Then walk towards there. And indeed it is. Shoes all over, but not in a messy way but it's on the walls like he's collecting them. And they're not just any shoes, they're all or at least that's how Y/N sees it, Jordan 1s.

Her mouth hangs open when she sees the display. "You collect?"

"Kinda."

Just minutes later, they're set up on the floor with their gadgets on the center table.

Y/N scratches the back of her head, getting frustrated over what they're doing. "This is so stupid. Carbohydrates are carbohydrates, what the fuck are those main classes for?!" She whines.

"Come on, Y/L/N. All we gotta do is read and understand then make a report."

"I wish it's as easy as saying it."

Jisung gets his hand off his keyboard. "It seems like you hate these subjects that we're taking. Why enroll under them?"

"Because they want me to be a doctor. Like any fucking Asian parent wants their kids to be."

"I'm sorry."

"No need to be, it's not you."

They spent the night just talking about random things. She learned that Jisung prefers nights over days. He's got poop hands as what Chenle calls, meaning everything he touches just fails. He and his friends always play PUBG with Chenle's cousins from China. Random things.

But Jisung felt that Y/N is a good listener. She doesn't give her own opinions on his preferences, she finds everything he says cool, and she asks you about how you feel when you make that choice. It's like she's learning new things as they talk.

But they did not make any progress with their report.

It's almost 12 midnight. "I need to go home now." Y/N states after looking at her watch.

"Are you Cinderella or something?" He jokes.

"I have a shoot tomorrow morning. I can't look puffy." She replies. "You can come with me tomorrow morning. We'll work on this slowly."

Tomorrow came. They met at the cafè again. Y/N picked Jisung up from his place.

"Do you always bring other people aside from your own team to your gigs?"

"No. But it's fine. I can just introduce you as one of us."

They arrive and in no time, Y/N is all set. They also discusse sample shots for the campaign. Jisung just observes as he tries to work on their report.

"Your boyfriend's handsome." Mrs. Laviste says, giving her a teasing smile as they look over at him.

Y/N immediately shakes her head. "He's just my classmate. We got paired up for school work."

"He's been glancing and staring at you for the past few minutes."

"That's probably because he's doing everything and I'm here literally looking pretty."

They suit her up in a silk skin tone slip dress pointing focus on the jewelleries on her. A gold butterfly rests in between her clavicles, they take a shot of that. Her hands, her ears, they alternately put pieces of jewelries and take a few shots of it in all angles possible. Jisung couldn't help but stare. She's good. Great, actually. She gives what's needed from her.

"I just got off the phone with our male model. He won't be able to attend, he's suddenly having the flu." Says Mrs. Laviste's secretary.

Y/N lowkey raises her hand just enough to point at Jisung.

Joy tells Y/N, "You should talk to him."

Y/N nods. "Jisung-ah!" Jisung looks up at her. He sees her walking towards him. "We need a male model."

"And?"

"You'd be a great one. You're very tall, and your face is decent, you just need a little makeover."

He shakes his head. "I don't think I can. I just came here to work on our report."

"I'll help you. We have until tomorrow. Plus, the pay is good."

At the end, she was able to convince him to join the shoot. They set him in front of the mirror, Y/N helped out in picking up his fits. She laughs when she sees his eyes moving, afraid to move his body.

"You can move, idiot."

He looks at the makeup artist doing his face. "Really? I don't wanna mess up what they're doing."

"As long as you don't go crazy."

They do the shoot together first just so Jisung loosens up and then his solo shoot after. Y/N helps him a lot aside from the director.

"Jisung-ah, just a stoic face. This is a close up shot emphasizing the earring."

After several flashes, he's all done. Y/N claps her hands then everyone else follows. "Congrats on your first modeling gig!"

He grabs her hand and puts it on his chest. "Feel that? I'm so nervous."

Of course, she was taken aback, she didn't feel shit, just her own heart pounding when her hand landed on his hard chest. "T-That's normal." Then she walks away, face flushing, cleaning up her things.

"What's the plan?" He asks when they're finally out of the building.

"We're gonna get lunch and then go to your soccer practice?"

Jisung shakes his head. "I can just pass on that one. Let's just do the report in my apartment again." She looks him straight in the eye and before she can say anything, he says, "I cleaned up."

Y/N smiles a little. "Okay."

"What do you wanna eat? My treat today." He says, looking at her.

"I'm craving biryani."

"Let's go to Jamieson's then."

And somehow they're eating lunch together, Jisung is skipping practice to do their project together, talking casually unlike before where they just roll their eyes at each other.

Y/N asks while they eat. "So what do you think about the modelling thing?"

He shrugs. "It's cool for my first time. You and your team made it too easy for me."

"And you were pretty good too. You have potential." She puts her hand on her face, posing elegantly, mimicking his poses earlier.

Jisung laughs and immediately removes her hand from her face. "Stop it."

"Why? Wait until Chenle and Sungchan see those photos."

"Oh God." He cringes and ducks head under his hands while Y/N laughs.

They spend the whole afternoon discussing their topic, even arguing if one finds something different in their researches but at the end, they were able to finish up their presentation and are confident that they'll be able to discuss it in front of the class on Monday.

"Thanks, Ji."

And for some reason they found themselves arguing about what comes first, the egg or the chicken. They even did their research on their stands far more efficiently than how they did it first with their report about carbohydrates.

"If I'm right, you'll give me $50?" He taunts.

She pulls out her phone from her purse and counters with, "And if I'm right, I send this pic to your friends." Showing him photos of his shoot that she took without his knowing.

Jisung was about to snatch his phone when she immediately stands up and runs away from him. "Y/N, delete that!"

"No!" She yells back but falls onto the floor by the kitchen. "I can't feel my legs!"

He rushes to her with panic on his face. "What happened?!"

"I think we squatted on the floor for too long." Jisung sighs in relief. "But I still can't feel my legs, it's weird and ticklish."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I dunno, it's really weird. I hate it."

"I'll try to massage it." He looks at her waiting for her approval and she eventually nods, just desperate for the weird feeling on her legs to go away. His hands are huge, she notices. That's why it looked so good in the photos earlier.

"It's going away." Before they stand up, he attempts to steal her phone but she immediately holds it protectively with both her hands. "No, these are mine."

"That's literally me in those photos."

"Yes, I'm aware."

He traps her between both his arms and the kitchen counter. Jisung lowers himself to level with her. "Give me your phone." His voice drops an octave that gives her goosebumps. His voice has always been deep but it's different when it's this deep.

Their faces are almost touching and she blinks a couple of times as her nervousness gets the better of her. "Y-You're too close."

"I know."

"You look good." Out of the blue she says then covers her mouth with one hand.

Jisung chuckles. "You look good too. Really good." She tries to avoid his lingering eyes but she can't. "You like us like this, don't you? That's why you don't wanna give me your phone?"

"I thought I'm the first woman who ever got this close to you?"

"You are."

"It doesn't seem like it."

He gives a small smile. "That's because you make me do things I never knew I'm capable of doing." And her heart skipped a beat, she couldn't say anything. It's like her throat is blocked with something. "And I thought you're one of them strong girls? The type who nobody wants to mess with. You've always had that image but why are you refusing now?"

Y/N grabs him by the neck and crashes her lips with his. Jisung got surprised but started kissing her back until he snaps back to reality.

But she suddenly pushes him away, running to his bedroom to get her things and in no time, she's in her car driving home with her heart pounding in her ribcage. Meanwhile, Jisung remained speechless in the kitchen, no idea as to what exactly happened.

From: Park Jisung

People usually say something and don't just run after they do that, yk?

From: Park Jisung

Don't be a coward now.

To: Park Jisung

Forget that ever happened.

From: Park Jisung

Uh... no

From: Park Jisung

You kissed me first and now you just want me to forget abt it?

To: Park Jisung

Yes

From: Park Jisung

No, in fact, maybe I'll kiss you again tomorrow.

[queerlilchinchin]

Chinchin's WiYS Stream Official Post

This is the official post announcing my Write in Your Style writing stream.

--

Hello, everyone! Welcome and thank you for your interest in my Write in Your style writing stream.

Stream Description:

To start off, let me describe to you what I envision this stream to look like. Twice a month (every 1st and 3rd Tuesday), I will be getting on my writing streams. Probably somewhere around noon Pacific Standard Time. I will be starting the streams with that stream's strip of writing, then I will read the last stream's submissions.

Of course, I've got to start somewhere, so the first stream will be announcing the start of the streams as well as giving the first prompt. I will be doing livestreaming on twitch, which will then be downloaded and posted on youtube and tik tok. You are welcome to join me on my livestreams. I will open the stream up to questions at the end. It can be questions about the prompt or the concept or whatever else pertaining to the streams.

How to submit writing:

I will likely be making a new blog for it, though I already have a lot of blogs. This blog will be mostly for asking questions about the streams and gaining more interest in them. You may also submit here if you don't wish to e-mail yours to me, which will be the other way. Any submissions left via comments will not be used simply because I don't want to make it easier for others to steal your writing or risk anything like that.

Stream Start Date:

The streams will officially start beginning of December, so the 5th will be the first stream (unless something happens to prevent it starting on time).

Days of the week that the streams occur may change due to my life circumstances being kind of up in the air right now. I'm looking for new work, so my days off may change.

How writing works:

I've had some questions about how exactly the writing part will work and how long you all will have to write. As the streams are bi-weekly, you will have nearly 2 weeks to submit your writing. They will be short pieces of writing, so it shouldn't take terribly long to finish them.

For now, it will only be my original writing that will be used, but as time goes on, I may open up the streams to other writers who wish to also submit their own writing for the original writing for others to rewrite in their own styles.

You may write them however you wish to. It just has to be the same story as the original put in your own way (don't turn a romance about a valkyrie and a demigoddess into a horror about the two characters). You're just recreating the writing, just like draw in your style.

Who can write:

Absolutely anyone is more than welcome to write. I will be reading your submissions for now, but as I figure out the features of streaming, I may open up the floor to writers reading their own writing if they wish. I will also be giving credit in any form you wish (if you just want your name or your tumblr blog or your Wattpad/AO3 accounts linked).

Stream Account Links:

Gotta link you guys to the accounts that will be posting the streams!

YouTube

Twitch

TikTok

Blog

@wiys-streaming

Ending Statements

WiYS streams are really a way to showcase and remind writers that we all have our own style of writing, even if it seems like you don't. You are capable of taking a story that was already written and make it your own (not that I'm encouraging copying, but you know what I mean... hopefully). Being a writer can be really disheartening sometimes, especially when you feel like your ideas aren't original, but sometimes the most unoriginal ideas can be home to the most incredible stories. Cliches are/were popular for a reason. Tropes become tropes for a reason. People love what they love and if they love the thing that you are making that is so "unoriginal," they will love your writing.

Don't forget that originality is not synonymous to good. Or creative. You can write something "trite" and make it incredible. I hope that this new stream will remind writers of that. :)

Thank you for your time and if you have questions, please feel free to send them to @queerlilchinchin.

WiYS "tag me to everything" taglist: @nerd-in-distress, @jvten, @steh-lar-uh-nuhs (fyi, tumblr won't let me tag your other blog or I would have), @aether-wasteland-s, @mjrino, @cheezyratz, @accountusername, @perasperaadastrawriting, @mrblazeflappybird, @forthesanityofstorytellers, @mangofen, @bigwipscholar, @pluttskutt, @doublegoblin, @crazytechpersonzreal, @sitiart, @ashesinthewritten, @achildweanedonpoison6, @quotidian-oblivion, @world-of-my-imagination, @marmeegle, @alesseia

WiYS "tag me to important stuff" taglist: @distortedwhite, @lyssentome, @ah0yh0y, @grollow, @perlen-gold, @saltysupercomputer, @vshushmshu, @lordkingsmith, @gummybugg, @quisyop, @enne-uni, @cometkov, @shado48, @cryscal, @mary-is-writing, @elizababie, @squintclover, @schmem14, @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego, @wakkoroni

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

kaveh/gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

warning(s)!!: alhaitham cringes at y'all (fun sucker), typical kaveh & alhaitham banter, no-gender mentioned for y/n, lowercase intended sorry im lazy

w.count: 2.1k

synopsis: kaveh is always forgetting his keys one way or the other, you try and keep his mind focused on what he keeps missing. he misunderstands your question 'aren't you forgetting something?'

a/n: much love to @birinboom for helping me choose this title and letting me annoy her with my banners for hours. smooches

you dont have to live in the same house as kaveh and alhaitham to know kaveh's morning routines of which he has several. sometimes he'll wake up early- be it a rare occassion- and peacefully make some coffee or review a few blueprint drafts then get ready for the day. others he's a bit more speedy, already dressed by the time he makes it into the kitchen for coffee and already having mehrak at his beck and call so they can get a move on.

but mostly, it consists of him oversleeping from hardly getting any sleep at all, rushing out of his room with his hands pushing the last of his red bobby pins in, yanking mehrak's handle with anything but an apology, and hoping that anything he needs for the day is already inside the sentient briefcase. he'd get a coffee somewhere at the akademia, or from some client if they're so kind, or even from you if you happen to run into him.

he never remembers everything though. most infamously, his house keys that are usually hanging by the door or somehow end up in alhaitham's possession. on those days, when you wake up in your own home devoid of all the chaos a morning with kaveh could include, you somehow always know when it's one of those days when he would be locked outside with no way in.

'alhaitham,' you call out to the grey-haired bookworm when you see him in passing through the akademia's halls on his way to work no doubt. he stops his strides and looks over his bare shoulder to see you coming over, hands full of material for your daily tasks.

'what is it?'

'do you have kaveh's keys today?' you ask quietly in the halls, making sure no one was within earshot since kaveh tried so adamantly to keep his living at alhaithams a secret.

alhaitham didn't verbally answer you, but he did pull out his own grey key revealing nothing attached to it. if he had it, normally they'd be stuck together by the keyrings. you nod and hum, waving to him before dismissing yourself since you didn't need to keep him from his work. only two options left:

kaveh forgot it at home or your gut was telling you wrong... for once.

you knew that your partner had a few meetings with clients today, but you weren't exactly privy to where those meetings would take place. whether it be their homes or somewhere like puspa cafe for the reason that it was surrounded by the noise of the public.

you decided to wait until later on in the afternoon to continue your investigation- he wouldn't notice until then anyways. besides, you had work to do today as well and he'd feel bad if he knew you spent your time running around looking for him instead of working. he didn't want you to fall behind on your tasks at his expense.

the said tasks at hand were fairly mundane and didn't pertain to anything of great stress. working for the akademia was stressful all on its own, but it could be worse. luckily, your relationship with alhaitham- the acting grand sage- was smooth enough that when you needed his approval for something he was quick to hear you out and then make a decision. you lightly chuckle at the memories of kaveh finding out he had rejected something from you for whatever reason and chewing his roommate's ear off later because of it.

kaveh could be high-strung about certain things- your duties and work for example- even when he didn't need to be. so you had advised him that any further pressing on why the acting grand sage told you 'no' (which shouldn't happen in kaveh's perfect world), wouldn't be necessary. the rejection made sense when you inquired further on it and all you would need to do was make some adjustments and try again.

it was the same type of drive you wish he'd have with his own stubborn clients. when something in a blueprint doesn't or can't work out due to literal safety and impossibility, you wish he'd just tell them so and just say no. though almost always, he caves. he's proud of his work, but you also know it weighs heavily on him as a 'genius architect'.

that overloaded, perfectionist mindset was exactly why he always forgets the small things not pertaining to work.

the middle of the day comes and just before it goes by with the tick of the clock hand, your name is called from afar. you could see your blonde worry-wart coming your way with mehrak close behind him. you stop in your strides in order for him to catch up with you and once he's within arm's distance he's slinging one of his over your shoulders to give you a small side-squeeze.

'running errands?' he asks before he's taking the books and files out of your arms and nods his head in the direction you were previously going. you learned long ago to not fight him on when he takes things from you so he could carry them in your stead. your arms had started going numb from the distance between your workspace and alhaitham's office where they were soon going to be delivered anyways.

'yup. documents and files for the acting grand sage to go over and review.'

'eugh,' kaveh shivers, 'can't you just refer to him by name? i doubt he cares if you drop the titles when you aren't even around him.'

'it's not very professional, kaveh. when im working i need to address him properly.'

'i dont see why. he wouldn't correct you if you just used his name.'

'he'd correct you though.'

'yeah to get under my skin!'

you laugh at the rise you start to get out of your lover before you lightly grabbed onto his bicep using it to tether you both together while his hands were occupied with your workload. the rest of the trip was filled with mindless, idle chatter- his favorite kind when with you. the moment you knocked on alhaitham's office door he had half a mind to stay out in the hall, but he couldn't just give your paperwork back to you. he had to see the duty of carrying your things for your through, even if that means getting a few rips from his grey-haired roommate.

'here are the documents i told you about before. they just need brief reviews and filing.'

'thank you,' alhaitham told you without so much as looking up to you. he knew kaveh was with you though. 'kaveh,' he started, 'y/n came to ask me if i had your keys this morning.'

kaveh basically dropped the paperwork on the desk since the acting grand sage decided to bring that up in the middle of the blond setting them down.

'they have a knack for suspecting when you have forgotten them,' alhaitham continued while kaveh distressingly looked to make sure no one was listening in while aggressively shushing him. alhaitham knew how to push his buttons.

still, kaveh was quick to search his person while you stood beside him amused. he pats his pockets and pants down, and even mehrak's digital expression twists, idly hovering nearby. acting anxious on his master's behalf. kaveh looks at you bewildered when his search comes up empty.

'how do you always-'

'i just do.' you answer him. 'dont worry, if the acting grand sage is kept busy you can stay at my home until he's back.'

'you're more than welcome to keep him,' the rip to kaveh went discarded as the blond just kissed your check in appreciation. 'please keep that out of my office,' alhaitham sighed. kaveh just sneered childishly at his previous underclassmen.

'consider that payback.'

'for what exactly?'

'oh, 'for what', he asks. for your little attempt to pester me just a moment ago!'

'oh, my apologies. i thought you hadn't heard me.'

'well, i did!'

'boys,' you intervene before they both get too worked up. 'i don't want to listen to you both squabble, so if that's all you need from me acting grand sage, i'll be going.'

'yes,' alhaitham sets his sights back to you, 'that'll be fine. thank you.' he thanks you again before you turn and start making your way out. kaveh makes it a point to grab your hand and swing your interlocked limbs dramatically on the way out, just to show the other man what for.

on other days, you're lucky enough for alhaitham to allow you to stay over with kaveh. he allows it for a couple of reasons: it keeps kaveh from hammering away on projects all night because he won't let you sleep by yourself and you have a tendency to placate the blond so the mornings can run much more smoothly than if it were just the two of them. also, you make coffee for both of them and any chance he gets to drink coffee he didn't have to go through the effort to brew himself gives him just a bit more time to himself and his books.

you were standing in the kitchen of their shared home in one of kaveh's open-back shirts. you had tried one on for fun once since they were so interestingly designed and found the open fabric was nice to sleep in since it didn't trap the stuffy sumeru night air.

as usual, alhaitham was the first awake and walking around. you shared sounds of morning humming before you give him his coffee and he meanders off somewhere to read. not long after, kaveh was waking up and stumbling bleary-eyed into the kitchen lured by the smell of coffee. you also hand him his mug of coffee with too much creamer in it and he receives it along with a peck to your lips.

'hmm,' he hums still groggy. 'your lips are warm.'

'well, i did drink come coffee myself. probably from that.'

'really? i didn't taste it.' he teases, wanting to try and 'taste' the coffee you drank before alhaitham shouted from the other room.

'take it out of my kitchen..!'

you spend the morning sharing kaveh's space and helping him get dressed and ready. he let you braid his hair and place his feather behind his ear. he helps you get dressed and flatten out any uncomfortable wrinkles in your clothes. along the morning quiet, he would place kisses anywhere he could. on your nape as he helps adjust your collar. your shoulder before you pull on your shirt after discarding his. on your wrist when you're braiding his hair messing it up in the process so you have to start over.

neither of you would talk much, but the messages conveyed through actions and small kisses are enough for an early day. you both hear alhaitham leave which lets kaveh loop his arm around your waist and swing you around playfully to his chest and hold you there for a bit before you both finally finish up.

just before kaveh leaves ahead of you since he doesn't let you open the door yourself, you snag the long, dark ends of his hair and effectively stop him. he whines before turning to you.

'aren't you forgetting something?' he racks his brain and even merak looks confused behind his shoulder with digitally upturned brows. he runs a quick mental checklist before a look of understanding crosses his face. he steps back over the threshold and the toes of his boots tap against yours. you weren't expecting the sudden proximity as you lean backward and almost stumble before his arm is wound around your back and his other hand gently guides your chin up.

behind the walls of the entrance and cracked open door, he kisses you sweetly. once on your lips, then the corners of your lips, then your cheeks, and then one more peck to your lips. he looks at you satisfied and only leans his chest away from you as you lift your arm.

'that was very flattering, but i meant these.' you both start laughing at the sight of his keys dangling between the two of you. his small keychain bearing witness to the overly affectionate kisses early in the morning.

'thanks, sweetheart,' he tells you before gently taking them and placing them safely in his pocket. he kisses you one more time on the forehead and finally starts to make his way out with you to start his day.

at least he didn't forget them today since you were there to remind him. he can only wait on pins and needles for the day he can do this in his own private home with you and not one where alhaitham ruins the mood all the time.