#worst possible place to be monogamous

[wheel-within-a-wheel]

i have completely lost track of what asks are in your inbox uhh. fuck it (1/2): Can you be in love with someone and still fall in love with someone else?

no. all the polyamorous people you know are actually cryptids rather not unlike bigfoot and the loch ness bigfoot

[fantaatix]

a stolitz post? in the year of our lord??

warning this is genuinely a long ass post

okay so sometime last month i was watching 3bskyen’s JLMW reaction (really tells you how long i’ve actually been cooking this post), and he was talking about color theory or something but what caught my attention was that he was paused on THIS frame:

he said something about the red/blue contrast throughout the music video; red being symbolic of blitz (the moon) and blue being symbolic of stolas (the ocean (?)) and it got me thinking, i wonder what the gold might symbolize? because this definitely isn’t the first time we’ve seen the color gold in reference to stolitz. first think back to truth seekers, there’s gold in quite a few places

golden rails, golden feathers, golden shackles; this is why i say gold and not yellow. at first i thought it might be symbolic of the power imbalance, but that’d be too easy.

quite the selection of objects, isn’t it? rails imply safety but can also be restricting, the feathers seem harmless but then turn into shackles…possibly reminiscent of the nature the book deal and the role it actually played in blitz’s mind about his relationship with stolas.

but there’s one more thing i left out; the golden dust

...okay...don't laugh...

first time i saw this scene in truth seekers i was immediately reminded of shrek ever after

AND I’M NOT COMPARING BLITZ TO RUMPELSTILTSKIN, i’m not trying to imply they stole from shrek ever after, THAT'D be a stretch. if anything blitz is better compared to shrek himself, but i'm not gonna write about that because i Don't Want To

but if i’m remembering correctly, that movie revolved around the theme of taking good things for granted, like your partner and your friends, which aligns pretty well with how blitz’s bad trip ends:

“i believe your subconscious is trying to tell you that you simply cannot fathom proper intimacy, but also craves it as well. it’s rather unfortunate, sir, considering it’s often how you treat those who stand by you, such as myself. are you worried i may have enough of it one day, as well?”

"you cannot fathom proper intimacy."

blitz doesn’t know how to be close to other people–i don’t think he understands the relationship he has with any of the people in his life.

we still don’t truly know blitz’s full belief on love and we can only deduce it from his actions; he says monogamy is boring but then goes on to stalk his monogamous employees, on their anniversary no less, bringing along his own singular date...

he focuses on the sex in his relationships because that’s what he’s good at; he finds sex less complicated than romance... and then struggles to get his asmodean crystal to open a portal because he can’t get it off.

he has this recurring pattern where the title of “best friend” eventually turns into something else, often unrequited...

“...my first ever friend!”

he didn't expect stolas' intimate attraction to him. stolas made the connection and it succeeded in making blitz feel guilty about stealing the book; that was why he stayed the night. blitz isn't used to not being rejected, even though he has a record of relationships that stopped once the Evil Four Letter Word came up. when he goes into a relationship, blitz has learned to not expect it to evolve past sex. love has negative connotations to him.

the worst part is we don’t know for certain WHY any of this is, or if it can even be chalked down to a singular thing

yeah, his mom died in a fire blitz caused, his best friend/crush lost his limbs in a fire blitz caused, he’s been treated as property since a young age; you can makes all kinds of correlations between these events and how they might have affected him later in life but as it stands now, we have no concrete answers other than the conclusion that blitz hates himself and has commitment issues.

but back onto that “taking things for granted” tidbit–subconsciously, he knows relationships can be good, but he feels he has to give up a lot of freedom in order to maintain one of his own.

also note how blitz is desperately crawling up the staircase, feathers kind of just hitting him haphazardly as he does so, as opposed to trip!moxxie who takes a few steps up after picking up a feather of his own volition. he knows moxxie’s relationship is more stable than any relationship he’s ever had, and yet:

“stop fucking talking, all of you!”

cue the gold dust.

now, i'm not saying the book deal was a good thing. in fact, it kind of reinforced the power imbalance between blitz and stolas. i'm saying that from blitz's perspective, it was a safeguard. any feelings he might have had for stolas before could be dismissed, and he does exactly that one episode prior;

"it's a transactional fucking, you see..."

what i think he does take for granted is the advice “moxxie” gives to him, his attempts to reach out in a meaningful manner, kind of like stolas’ attempts to reach out. he ignores them both; he’s too deep into his own denial.

also, STAIRCASES IN THIS FUCKING SHOW.

why do these fruity little men think so low of themselves and so highly of others??

i guess that's a bit of a rhetorical question, we all know the answer, but. wait. hold on a sec

ohhhh.

OOOHHHH, that's what this post was gonna be about!

i fucking GOT all of you, you thought i could go a post without talking about him you're WRONG and should feel SILLY.

so this was the OTHER thing i realised when watching 3bskyen's JLMW reaction: it follows the same theme as moxxie's bad trip!

JLMW vs. moxxie's bad trip

in helluva boss, we're used to seeing staircases being symbolic of a difference in power or importance, or a staircase to heaven, or a highly anticipated event going wrong *cough cough ozzie's cough full moon cough cough*

however, i think in the context of moxxie’s bad trip and JLMW, it can also be attributed to emotional distance. like stolas, moxxie's also looking for an emotional intimacy/understanding between him and blitz (he spends his whole trip actively trying to get on the same level as him for crying out loud).

this could also fit into blitz's bad trip; he's trying to get on the same level as stolas, but feels like even if he ever did, he'd still be inherently worthless. a "play thing".

he doesn’t know why anyone would want him for anything else, but he’s clearly not all about the hierarchy.

they need to get on the same level as each other emotionally; they need to break the power dynamic, and thats why the book deal had to go.

the difference in the symbolism is that while blitz has a straight and narrow path to trip!stolas, moxxie’s path to trip!blitz is this winding, unguarded staircase. he almost falls off.

now, compared to both of those, stolas’ path is a fucking stroll. albeit an emotionally damaging stroll, but it takes less physical strength.

conclusion; stairs are symbolic of a difference in power, but gold is symbolic of something else.

and there is a power dynamic between moxxie and blitz. it's not like stolas and blitz's dynamic, it's an artificial imbalance; blitz is the boss, moxxie is the employee. and moxxie has his own inferiority complex, which i think plays a role in it too.

the imbalance between stolas and blitz is kind of, unfortunately, inherited. but it's not impossible to manage. of course, stolas doesn't care about where blitz is on the hierarchy, he doesn't care about the hierarchy period. but it's still there. blitz cares because it affects him.

"you will be technically under his jurisdiction, but..."

this was problem one. stolas unintentionally demonstrating his power over blitz. "surprise, i technically made you someone else's property! please love me!" i'm exaggerating but this is definitely not the kind of thing you spring on your partner; they needed to talk about this beforehand, but according to stolas:

"no need for an arrangement, it can just be him and me!"

sigh. the many different ways this night could've gone

this is enough to trigger blitz's fight or flight. he wants to be with stolas, but he doesn't want the freedom to choose to be with him, which is problem two:

because blitz's belief of love is so inherently fucked up,

what are the chances that the very thing stolas gave to blitz to reaffirm his free will was just interpreted as another shackle?

blitz doesn't do commitment; stolas doesn't say "i love you", he doesn't need to. if you love something, you let it go, and if it comes back then it's yours--which happens in the very next episode.

blitz is the first person to mention love.

but if they want to love each other, they have to be equals, which was why the book deal had to go. they can't hold each other to these super high standards because that'd just set themselves up for disappointment. they have to be on the same level.

tldr: they're two sides of the same coin. literally!

color theory for dummies, a brief intermission

fun fact: i actually didn’t learn color theory in an art class, but in a textiles class. we love american education. but anyways, i’m gonna ask you to draw your attention specifically to the complementary colors.

we start the chorus of JLMW in a purpley sort of place, which then shifts into gold, and then into the red/blue contrast.

except red and blue aren’t complete opposites, they’re both primary colors.

if they wanted complete opposites, they could’ve used red and green, or blue and orange, which are admittedly uglier combinations but the point is that stolitz aren’t complete opposites.

however, purple and yellow, or gold, ARE complete opposites; they’re complementary colors. if purple is implied to be symbolic of stolitz together, then could gold imply stolitz apart?

well…no. i think that’s the wrong angle. if they wanted that contrast, they could have left the gold out entirely, because red and blue separate is stolitz apart.

so how are we supposed to deduce what the gold is actually symbolic of? because no, i don’t actually think it’s an extended shrek 4 reference. that kind of exclusively pertains to blitz’s trip.

listening to the lyrics in the gold part;

This unspoken contract

A deed we forged for mutual gain

If that's all this was when you're not here

What is this rooted pain?

I don't care that you're of lower station

Or primed to sate my dark temptations

Why can't you understand? Let me explain

And I'm terrified as I cry

To make these feelings true

What's left for me and my broken heart

If I cannot have you?

a direct mention of the book deal…and another mention of the power imbalance…so i realize am starting to sound insane, but please hear me out.

i think the main theme of helluva boss IS learning to love in spite of damages and traumas and insecurities–not ignoring either of those, but learning to work around them or possibly heal those parts of yourself so you can love someone else effectively. learning from mistakes.

so what if the gold is symbolic of the simple desire of a mutual understanding? or a meaningful connection with someone else?

tying it all back together somehow

both moxxie and stolas want to connect with blitz (in different ways), but for stolas, that means severing possibly the only thing connecting them thus far (the book). for moxxie, that means climbing the staircase and possibly being pushed even further away.

moxxie also has this high opinion of blitz despite all his obvious (and not so obvious) flaws. i think it's partially because of his own inferiority complex, but to him, blitz is the phantom--his scar becomes the mask he hides behind. he knows blitz puts on this loud, crude personality to hide his cracks and keep others away, and has a scarily accurate portrayal of him in his mind.

moxxie wants to be on the same level as blitz, and he knows it's possible to get there, because he's a damaged character himself and he gets it. he's just yet to take the actual first step.

stolas, even in his own imagination, doesn't think it's possible to be emotionally intimate until the deal is broken. he could reach for blitz, but blitz wouldn't reach back. he's not looking. not to mention the literal celestial view he has of blitz in his head.

while stolas can see blitz's damage, he can't fully comprehend it yet, partially because blitz won't give him the chance and partially because stolas isn't damaged in the same way he is. they both had deadbeat dads, but they adapted in different ways.

that's just the way trauma works, you adapt to deal with it, and then have to unadapt those unhealthy coping mechanisms once you're finally safe. it just takes a while for people to realize they're actually safe, and these fruitcakes are no exception.

conclusion? uhh, i don't know, i guess i don't really have one. just. enough with the discourse about these bitches i guess??? just give them each some time, change takes more than two seasons.

i guess i could compare the way the songs are set up but this was supposed to be out like two days ago and it's already 11:45 so. maybe some other time, maybe in a post about moxxie's Interesting taste in musicals

was unfortunately unable to finish the mox vs. fizz masterpost this month but we'll see sometime in the coming months, maybe sometime after the next helluva short comes out. been a bit too busy with school and other social things to have time writing these long asf posts about my skrimblos

okay goodnight o/

[markantonys]

the single best thing the show could do for the polycule is a very simple change: make it happen on purpose. make all four members work together from the beginning to set up a poly relationship intentionally, rather than stumbling into one due to a mix of miscommunication and Fate Said So.

in the books, rand thinks he's having a series of unconnected romantic encounters with three different women and has no idea a polycule is developing until the women come to him to propose the final product. it is documented that the reason rj wrote it this way is because it's inspired by a similar situation he was once in, so i can't exactly blame him for writing based off personal experience, but it does cause several problems in the story.

Problems:

a) rand has little to no input on his own relationship(s) and spends the whole series being extremely passive in his love life. this makes him come across as at best a victim to the whims of his partners who is not allowed to express what HE wants out of the relationship, and at worst an asshole who doesn't really care about any of them as people and doesn't care what arrangements the three of them work out so long as he gets to fuck SOMEONE. it also means that the romances don't have as much of an emotional impact on him/his character development as they should (and as they do on the women) because he's just kinda floating along going "oh whatever you guys want, makes no difference to me."

b) elayne and aviendha get a bad fandom rap as being bad partners to rand because they confuse him on purpose and play games with him. like most of elayne's (in particular) bad fandom raps, this is an unfair exaggeration, but it's rooted in the fact that rj wanted rand to wind up in a polycule by accident rather than helping arrange a polycule on purpose, which means that rand has to hook up with 3 different women in a row without realizing that a polycule is brewing, without having discussed the idea of additional partner(s) with his prior partner(s) and gotten their permission to hook up with other people, AND without coming across as a cheater. which means that rand has to believe himself sufficiently broken up with the prior woman before he can hook up with the next one, which means that elayne has to send him conflicting letters so that he can get away with hooking up with aviendha and aviendha has to freeze him out so that he can get away with hooking up with min.

("they're just greedy/indecisive/cheaters" is probably the biggest harmful stereotype against poly people, and the above approach from the books flirts with that far too much, so the show definitely needs to change that. the majority of people have a very very difficult time understanding polyamory (just look at tumblr, where even the ~wokest~ WOT fans are saying the polycule should be split up into 2 monogamous pairings bc they think the poly aspect is "weird" and they insist that elayne Actually loves aviendha the most or rand Actually loves min the most and that they can't possibly REALLY mean it when they say they love multiple people equally), which is why it's especially important that the show portray it in a way where it's abundantly clear that it's not cheating or rand being greedy/indecisive/stringing a bunch of women along.)

c) the problem for the other 3's approach to the polycule is miscommunication. the problem for min's is Fate Said So. she is rammed into the polycule by prophecy rather than by spending enough time with the other parties to come to want it on her own, and so she coasts along on "you have to let me join your relationship because it's fated to happen no matter what" rather than needing to put in the same work elayne and aviendha do of bonding with each other, making an effort to learn about aiel polyamory practices (in elayne's case), and growing to genuinely want to share their partner with each other and to genuinely enjoy seeing the other happy with him.

the result is min feeling out of place in the relationship: elayne constantly thinks about how she loves rand and aviendha equally, then sometimes hastily adds min as an afterthought; aviendha is very firm that she can't share rand with elayne until they're first-sisters, but shrugs and makes an exception for min for no reason (but then proceeds to think how she wishes she didn't have to share her partner with a near-stranger); min barely cares about the other two and frequently thinks how she wishes she could just have rand to herself and it's unfair that she has to share him. it's a very glaring contrast how elayne and aviendha come to feel genuine joy and compersion at rand's love for the other, while the most positive thought min ever has is "if i HAVE to share (which i'd rather not), then elayne isn't the worst option for a co-partner."

on this last point, monogamous people forcing themselves to try out polyamory for their poly partner's sake (which is absolutely how book!min comes across) is something that happens and gets people hurt irl, and contributes to the societal misconception that polyamory never works out long term and that a choice will inevitably have to be made (again, see tumblr deciding that the endgame will have to be elayne & aviendha happily monogamous in caemlyn and reddit that it will have to be rand & min happily monogamous traveling the world). so if the show is going to portray polyamory, imo it has a responsibility to show that it is a viable long-term relationship type that people can be genuinely happy in. thus, all 4 parties need to choose this type of relationship because they want it, not because fate said they had to, and especially min since she's the one who is the most explicitly in the "only doing this bc fate" camp in the books (whereas rand, elayne, and aviendha all come across as genuinely polyamorous people who likely would have settled on this arrangement even without prophecy foreknowledge).

Solutions:

i made a post recently-ish with a hypothetical timeline for 8 seasons of the show, so if i make any unexplained assumptions in this section about what seasons various characters will be spending time together during, that's where they came from.

i feel pretty confident that rand/aviendha will be the first romance we see in the show, since he's still getting over his much-more-serious-than-the-book-version relationship with egwene and it would make sense to give him season 2 to finish that up and to hold off on new romance for him until season 3. i'm predicting he and aviendha will also meet elayne at falme in 2x08, but i also expect the characters will set off on their TSR roadtrips by the end of 3x01 at the latest, which gives rand and elayne no more than 1-2 episodes together - enough to establish Crush Vibes, but not enough to actually have anything happen between them. so, the show will go out of order and start with rand/aviendha.

which is a perfect way of changing the polycule from accidental to intentional! having rand's first romance be with the partner who is from a poly-aware culture means that the entire set of relationships is now being built off a poly-aware base. from the get-go, aviendha can explain the concept of polyamory to rand and make it clear to him that she is comfortable with that sort of relationship, which means that they can get together and stay together rather than needing to backslide so that rand has an excuse to go off and fuck other people. he doesn't need excuses if he instead has permission! also, rand/elayne not having happened yet would mean aviendha has no reason to feel guilty and pull away from rand after sleeping with him.

so, rand and aviendha are solidly together and poly-curious by the time they reunite with elayne in s4. aviendha can see that rand and elayne like each other, so she encourages them to get together, and rand/elayne can indeed get together without rand/aviendha needing to be tanked first since rand and aviendha are both on the same pro-poly page. elayne knows a little about polyamory from meeting bain and chiad at falme (and maybe from meeting alanna or other greens at the tower), and she has feelings for rand but also likes aviendha and doesn't want to interfere with their relationship, so she is happy to agree to the arrangement. but she still has plenty to learn about aiel ways and about aviendha, and aviendha wants to become first-sisters as is proper, so even without aviendha having toh to elayne for banging rand, the two of them still have a reason to want to bond and grow closer (and for the show, this arc will result in them falling in love instead of or in addition to becoming first-sisters).

so we've fixed the narrative relying on miscommunication to get rand, elayne, and aviendha into the polycule. now to fix the reliance on Fate Said So for min. we can safely say that she's already had her 3-women viewing judging by that line in s1, so she already knows the polycule is fated. this in itself is fine - wrestling with knowing you're fated to love someone is an interesting character arc if done well and done sparingly [sideeyes rj on both counts]. what needs to be changed is how min USES this foreknowledge.

don't have her share it with elayne, aviendha, or rand until after the four of them have gotten together naturally. have her discuss the viewing with her aunts in s2 (or, hell, even with mat, could be a good way to contribute to the friendship they're supposed to have at the end of the series) instead of with elayne, and have her say she knows who 2/3 of the other people are but would never want to tell them about this viewing because it sucks to know you're fated to love someone before it's happened and she'd hate to burden anyone else with that knowledge. have her keep the viewing to herself because she wants rand and elayne (and aviendha, tho min doesn't yet know who she is) to have the freedom to fall in love by choice, even though she herself can't have that freedom. (shit, now that i write it out i actually LOVE the idea of mat being the one she's having this convo with since he too will soon be struggling with a Fated Romance.)

in the books, by telling elayne soon after meeting her that she'll have to share her boyfriend with 2 others and then in salidar going "one of them is me btw so you'd better give me permission to fuck your boyfriend when i see him soon," it feels like min is using her viewing to bully elayne (and later aviendha) into letting her join the relationship. min telling rand in eotw that he shouldn't bother with egwene because they won't end up together also contributes to this vibe, and the show has thankfully already cut out that moment, so i have high hopes that they're attempting to make min more..........empathetic, i guess, in terms of how she uses her viewings. book!min is understandably afraid of being left out in the cold since she doesn't know which if any of them rand will love back, so she uses her viewings to prime the other parties to be willing to Let Her In when the time comes, basically, but it's still kind of a shitty thing to do. however, so far, due to being older and much more mature and much more reluctant to share viewings, show!min gives me the vibes that she would rather quietly resign herself to unrequited love than have to burden other people with the knowledge that their love is Foretold (particularly once she comes to view elayne as a friend in s2).

so, if min doesn't share the viewing with elayne and aviendha in advance, then she will have to join the relationship naturally, by spending time with and getting to know all 3 parties, rather than by telling them they have to let her in because Fate Said So. i see space for all 4 of them to be in the same place together during season 4, while avirandlayne is brewing but min is still just a friend, so that would be a great time for min to bond with them all prior to getting with rand (and maybe as a result, rand develops a crush on her and confesses it to elayne and aviendha, who are happy to give him permission because they already know and like min; alternately, rand has an obvious crush on min but is totally oblivious about it, so elayne and aviendha tease him like "if there is...............anyone else you're interested in.............maybe a certain bartender............you can totally go for it" and rand is adorably baffled as to why they believe he has a crush on min, and then in season 5 he finally Realizes).

and like, wouldn't it be so cute if after the four of them are in a committed polycule, min finally says "hey, i actually had a viewing ages ago that this would happen, but i didn't want to tell you guys and make you feel pressured to love each other" and they all have a good laugh about it together? that would be SO cute!

so, overall, the seeds of a wonderful polycule are there in the books, and the show doesn't have to make a TON of tweaks to help it live up to its best potential! i'm really excited to see what they do with it because it's such a unique romance storyline and one of my favorite aspects of the series, it just needs the Updating For 2020s touch (and the Updating To Reflect The Way Real Human Adults Behave And Communicate With Each Other touch) that the show has so far excelled at applying.

[shouldiusemyname]

Only Friends - The Voice of the 80's Babies

Long post

Inspired by this post by @chicademartinica and bestie @thegalwhorants's comment about the wardrobe. Also this post from @blmpff which really made me think I'm in the right direction...

Before I get into this I just wanna say that I'm posting this very hesitantly as it's a very personal view of this show (possibly within the Jojo-verse). I might be reading too much into this and projecting my own experience and the fact that Jojo is about my age, but OF feels very much a reaction of my generation. I realize that most of what I'm going to say will sound familiar and relevant to everyone (not just 80's babies) but I'll try to explain the difference between what I read as a general generational experience and a universal experience.

I said it before and after watching the first ep it has never been clearer that Only Friends is what happens when 80's babies are given a chance to settle scores.

Everything about this show screams I WAS A TEENAGER IN THE 90'S!

First of all - the clothes! EVERYTHING they're wearing is like it's taken from my high school photos 😅 I know fashion is fluid and trends will make a comeback periodically, but given what I feel they're trying to say, I believe it's intentional.

The Sex of it All

It's like a direct reaction to the way we were raised and the relationship my generation has with sex. This is very regional and cultural, but generally speaking sex was not discussed as a natural aspect of life and relationships. Sex was either shameful, dirty, reproductive, or (the worst option) over discussed without healthy boundaries. My parents' generation didn't have the tools to discuss sex with their children in a healthy way because they were also denied this conversation by their parents. So, they either hid it or overshared.

So, my generation was raised (by western media basically) believing that everyone must have sex and our social standing is directly linked to whether or not we were having sex (who said American Pie?). We weren't given the option to have different views. We were trapped by this extremely deformed view of sex and relationships.

Watching this show and the discussion around it feels like creators are calling bullshit on everything we were told about sex.

Stuck in the Middle

I'm going to generalise here, but basically people who are just slightly older than us (meaning my generation) have this very black and white attitude towards sex - there's the right time to start having sex, your partner matters (in the way that you should be in love or in a relationship), relationships are monogamous, and kink is a deviation (don't even get me started on queerness - you were either gay, straight, or a crossdresser).

On the other hand, 90's babies were born into a much wider and open world that gave them the opportunity to get a much broader picture and view about relationships and how sex plays into them. This is even as basic as just having a wider vocabulary to talk about it.

My generation was, however, stuck in the middle, left to really hindsight our way through our perception of sex and its place in relationships.

In my 20's I've witnessed so many conversations where people were analyzed over the fact that they choose not to have sex like there's something wrong with them. Why are you not having sex? What's wrong with you? You're waiting for love? - don't waste your time. You're just going to fuck whoever? - that's just wrong. There's no winning.

Furthermore, when considering what Jojo said about the discussion around queer sex in queer shows and bl - my generation was raised with the idea that being queer (which was then just being gay) was all about who you have sex with. No one ever said anything about love or gender. When I was figuring out my own sexuality, being queer was about who you wanted to sleep with, not who you loved. We still see this today when people believe that our queerness is defined by whether or not we are having queer sex, and I believe this is at least part of what @bengiyo is talking about when he talks about the internalised homophobia. This is so much of my generation carrying and passing it on because we were denied these conversations.

So Now What?

Now, creating a show that is about sex, queer sex, and how it plays into queer relationships is reclaiming the conversation about queerness as an expression of love as well as sexuality. We deserve to discuss these issues as a generation that was denied these conversations whether queer or not. And somehow, these issues are discussed more freely and openly within queerness as it has the advantage of being free of heteronormative notions.

Another reason I believe this is generational is the fact that Jojo is consistently having this discussion within his shows. I don't know how to explain it, but his shows feel like screaming liberation, like he's walking around with a baseball bat (preferably Only Friends branded) and smashing these false ideas one by one. Which is why I believe we need to look at this show as part of the Jojo-verse shows along with The Warp Effect, 3 will be free and Gay OK Bangkok. Jojo is on a mission.

Expression Within The Show

Ok, so what am I getting at after I had you read my trip to the shrink?

I believe that ALL OF THIS is expressed in the show through the group dynamics we see in our friend group. They all represent different notions and they will fight over dominance. This is the power struggle that my generation is trapped in. We need and deserve to say our peace.

This is what I meant when I said that OFTS is what happens when you're an 80's baby with shit to say.

As usual thank you for reading my ramblings. I hope you get what I'm trying to say, and clearly have issues 😅 so feel free to comment and give perspective...

[scribespirare]

If you're up for it, could you write where Miles and Miguel are secretly in a relationship except the spider gang are trying to set either or both of them up with someone else?

secret relationships my beloved <3<3<3

“So I met this girl-”

Miles groans loudly and shoots his next web, letting it swing his weight up into the next arc. “You better be about to tell me you asked her out.”

“No,” Gwen says, and Miles can tell by the sound of her voice that she’s grinning under her mask. “I think you’d really like her!”

Miles groans again and takes a sudden turn mid-air to try and throw his meddling friend off, if just for a moment. And a moment is all it takes for Gwen to catch up to him again, swinging perpendicular to him and laughing. “C’mon, Miles! You gotta get out there!”

She’d turned him down nearly six months ago when he’d asked her out, and he knows she’s felt guilty about it ever since. And yeah, he’d been pretty bummed immediately after. But all his moping had drawn the gruff concern of someone else, and he and Miles had suddenly started spending more time together and…well, Miles now knows he’s bisexual. So.

With a final exhilarating but unnecessary flip Miles lands atop the roof of an apartment building, pausing to catch his breath. Gwen lands next to him gracefully and flips her hood back. “I’ve got her number, you want it? I got her permission to give it to you.”

“You what!?”

“Yeah, I keep a picture of you on my phone and everything,” she says teasingly. “She thinks you’re cute.”

“Oh my god,” Miles mutters, and wishes he could cover his face up even more than it aready is. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Her expression softens, the humor falling away. “I just want you to be happy, Miles.”

“I am!” he protests. And he’s not lying. Now that he’s able to see his friends regularly he’s not lonely anymore, or feeling burdened by the weight of being Spider-Man. That weight is shared across hundreds of other shoulders now.

And when he does have a random pang of loneliness? When he has a bad day or fights with his parents or even just doesn’t feel good for no reason at all? He has a place to go. A place with open, waiting arms that envelop him so completely he feels like the rest of the world couldn’t possibly exist beyond the boundaries of that embrace.

But Gwen doesn’t know that.

And neither do Hobie, Pavitr, Peter, or any of the rest.

Pavitr and Gwen are the worst about trying to set Miles up with others. Hobie will throw out the occasional offer but usually he stands up for Miles when the others get kind of pushy. Something about relationship anarchy and how Miles should be allowed to decide how he wants to handle his romances or lack thereof. Honestly, that is a different kind of annoying though. Because Miles does have a romantic relationship and it might just be a plain monogamous one in contrast to Hobie’s confusing poly web of flings and partners, but it still exists. Miles just…can’t talk about it. And Gwen’s meddling has now convinced the group that Miles is sad and pathetic and alone.

“I am,” Miles tells Gwen again. “I promise, I’m happy. Please stop trying to set me up with people?”

Gwen looks at him for a long, stretched out moment. “I’m not trying to set you up just to-”

“Please?” Miles cuts in.

That earns him a sigh and then an eye roll. “Fine. I’ll stop." He breathes a sigh of relief, but then- "Peter’s been working on Miguel anyways, I’ll just help him out.”

Miles feels the blood rush drain from his face. “Peter’s trying to date Miguel!?” he squeaks.

Gwen mistakes his panic for horror, which it kind of is but not in the way she thinks, and laughs. “No, he’s trying to talk Miguel into getting back out there. So far Miguel isn’t budging. I don’t really hangout in places where I can meet older women but maybe I can annoy him into looking for himself. Do you know if he likes guys as well?”

Fuck, out of the fire and into the frying pan.

[cinemaocd]

this is probably going to be long

OK, I lived through the AIDS crisis. I was a young person questioning my sexuality at arguably the worst possible time in American history. I discovered the word "bisexual" (hooray I have a label) only to read a few days later in mainstream news about how "bisexuals were responsible for spreading AIDS to the hetero community" which was a take that was tolerated on national news shows at the time. The only sex education I had in my entire public education was a film we were forced to watch about how you could get AIDS from french kissing (you can't) and heavy petting (which we didn't know what it was because it was outdated old people code for oral lol)...

The entire LGBTQIA plus community was not attacked as a monolith, the focus of hate came on gay men, because they were the most obviously effected and also the most visible and prominent in the community. The rest of the community did their best to embrace and protect them. (For example lesbian groups that were on the front lines of caring for people who were sick when no one else would...).

And there were people like myself who identified as allies but were in a place where they didn't feel safe to come out themselves. I did not come out at that time because even though I was in accepting local community at University and working at a feminist journal I knew I would lose friends and family and possibly future work opportunities. Being Bi it was easier to blend in for me and I took advantage of that. Part of the reason I hesitated so long about coming out was I felt a lot of guilt that I didn't come out in the 90s during the AIDS crisis. I felt like a coward who wasn't worthy to stand with such brave people.

It took me a long time to let go of that self-hate to the point where I could come out. A big part of it was acknowledging how fucked up the climate for LGBTQIA folks in the 80s and 90s. We had two family friends (which is how I knew I would probably be rejected by a lot of my family) who died of AIDS. Yes, these were brilliant, creative men who worked in theater. One of them was the props coordinator for Late Night with David Letterman (responsible for building Dave's velcro suit etc.). I also have a peer who died of AIDS in the early 2000s, long after the disease had supposedly been "not a death sentence" who also happened to be an actor.

Despite their lack of political involvement, they were be seen as radical just because they lived openly as gay men in a society that hated them and wanted them dead, and only tolerated them if they were the "fun gays" who weren't actually threatening the status quo...

Being in theater or the arts was a survival tactic for a lot of people ya know because it was a more accepting environment and because it wasn't considered important like politics, medicine, science etc. (Miss me with the gays can't do math jokes. A gay man invented the fucking computer).

The gay men I knew in long-term monogamous relationships survived the worst of the crisis and they automatically became "respectability queers" for having not died and wanting jobs with health insurance etc. Because one dude follows his dream of working in theater and the other quits theater and goes to work at the phone company and buys a house with his partner, one is fun and the other boring? One is a creative genius creating culture and the other is a consumer of cultural pap? Wow. Great take.

FUCK. I'm just getting so angry thinking about this. You want to know why it took me till I was FIFTY fucking years old to come out: AIDS. That's it. ONE Fucking word.

Sorry I have no idea WHY I fucking started this other than I saw a shitty post that said, our culture became boring because all the fun gays died and left only the boring gays who only care about marriage or whatever.

[halloweenrazorcandii]

Monster - Dodie. @anonbinaryweirdo Zephyrine scene.

"Well this ends bad then. I knew it would. We knew it would, So we won't eat our words, 'Cause they don't taste good." Zephyrine has always had a feeling, a funny feeling. That her marriage and seemingly monogamous love for the funny, prepped demon father, King of Hell, she thought she would last lifetimes with. Whatever a lifetime in hell is, anyway. As soon as the dreaded Lilith had shown to their door, there's been a sinking boat in her vixen senses she hadn't noticed until she felt she needed to slam herself as far away from her husband as possible. Their son growing fond of the former Queen of Hell, she felt she couldn't drag him away. She'd see them post pictures having fun on Sinstagram, going to hells luxury firey lakes, having fun. Lilith cooking her former husband dinner, happily serving Zephyrine's child, along with Lucifers she'd grown fond of. Like a family. No matter the tears and fears that had grown to the fox breed, no matter how many times she'd tear the fur from her tail or tug on her horns in agony upon just the thought of missing her life, she'd never gotten the audacity to let herself back in. "Look, I know that I've seen this before. High and mighty, at the top of your list, Adoring every move, and now my rank is sinking. But we're both guilty of black or white thinking. And through my red eyes, you look pale. All of your scars, Now look more like scales." 7 Months. 7 months without her family. During these times she'd confided in her loved friend, Angel Dust, a pornographical actor. He'd undergone some unfair treatment at his studio, since he'd "worked" there. Despite her not confirming the spiders own theories of her new behavior, she'd still appreciated his comfort. Though she felt she couldn't even find the feeling to appreciate. When Angel had come to the hotel with a black eye and slumped figure, Zephyrine had enough. She, one night, had strided to his studio, owned by infamous overlord Valentino. She had striken a deal with the overlord for Angel Dust's time of abuse to be replaced by her. She became popular by the viewers fast, Valentino using her body for all sorts of entertainment. She'd started appearing on bigger screens, deemed the audience. She hadn't enjoyed this. Not a bit. "I'm guessing that I've grown horns, I guess I'm human no more I can tell I've rotted in your brain. Oh how easily passion twists, You think I'm a crazy bitch. A thousand words are left unsaid, 'Cause no one listens to the dead. So maybe I will talk to you the only way I know how to. I've said my speech, through sharpened teeth." While at work, Valentino commands a new form of entertainment. Muzzling. The device is set on her, her fur sleek, she'd already been worn and used. The notice of the muzzle instantly clicks with the vixen, and she doesn't like it. At all. Her performance being shown on a big screen, just outside Lucifers tower, for all to see. All, to see. The crowd around the screen eminent. Zephyrine begins to growl. Her sharp fox canines peaking from her dirtied lips. Her claws hooking on anything they can find, and after being kicked by Val to "calm down", she goes batshit. From worker to worker anyone in her way, mauled. In desperate attempts to take off the Muzzle, she panics, scurrying around the studio, already breaking the chain attached to it. While the scene displayed on live hell camera, from the Voxtech Horns channel, it just so happened the King of Hell was looking out his window as his worst nightmare shone upon to the entirety of the Pride ring. It was almost as if the violence in the porn was being taunted. Was this planned? Lucifer began to shake. After failed, desperate attempts to subdue the rabid animal let loose in their studio, an employee, a likely familiar one at that, resorts to last option. Click. . . . Boom. The silence rattled all of Hell. Lucifer turnt away, only to find two of his sons, frozen in place, eyes locked to the device.

[mjjune]

9 for twtr OCs for the ask game! i wanna know all the lore~~~ (--@space-writes)

Thank you!!! No one has asked me this one yet 👀

Putting under the cut for mild worldbuilding spoilers

Ask me Pride Asks!!!

9. Are there cultural or lore specific aspects to their identity? If applicable, does their species affect it?

Unfortunately I refuse to spoil too much about The Wolf, so I'll just stick to Red and Avery (the woodsman)! For some basics about the culture of the kingdom the story takes place in, there is a religion that is very black and white (literally, my idea behind it was: "what if the worst christians possible got their hands on the yinyang?" lmao) and even though it's not overtly discussed on the page, gender is also very black and white. General misogyny exists, though it's not as intense as most medieval fantasy stories (re: The Queen has no king, women can be on councils and in the church and govt, be doctors, hold high position in careers, etc). There is also the classic "you must get married, be monogamous, and produce offspring" culture. This is all on the down-low in my book and not directly discussed, but it's fairly clear through Red's experiences in the book. But also because of the black and white lens, essentially anything between genders is... not a thing. Even just conceptualizing that would be extremely difficult for most citizens. Avery - Since Avery spent most of his youth outside the kingdom—literally, in the woods—he was mostly solitary and so he could do his own thing regarding gender/sexuality without feeling held back by the rigidity of the kingdom's culture. That said, he was born in the kingdom and briefly raised by his parents there, and that founded his idea of Gender, and also his parents essentially had mixed/reversed gender roles (re: the mom was big and physical and a hunter, the dad was gentle and educated and artsy) so this impacted the way he views gender, roles, and himself. Also with regard to the religion, which he was forced to convert to for 5 years 😅 probably just short-circuited his brain because Binary™ and made him even more trans/nb than he already was lmao Red - Red (as princess) has the pressure to produce heirs and get married, and so this part of the world directly impacts her identity because she has no interest in the latter of those things. Because she is well educated and slated to be the next queen, she has a bit more power over her own life and the direction she takes compared to most civilians, who would likely get married whether they want to or not for money/survival. Also I imagine being raised pretty solitary in a castle and focusing on education and being Hyperaware of how she has been sexualized for her beauty and just... being a public figure/celebrity impacted the way she views sex, the way she views attraction, and likely the development of her own attraction (which is none, since ace). But I guess, chicken or the egg? haha

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TWTR TAGLIST: (ask for comment below to be +/-) @aether-wasteland-s @annetilney @artbyeloquent @bebewrites @dogmomwrites @elijahrichardwrites @eventideintrigue @faithfire @flowerprose @forthesanityofstorytellers @ghafasinej @helioscenic @isabellebissonrouthier @jamieanovels @lexiklecksi @little-mouse-gardens @mr-writes @perasperaadastrawriting @phantomnations @theimperiumchronicles @thyroidhormones @verba-writing @vsnotresponding @wildswrites @wip-nook

[aroaceconfessions]

I feel like part of the reason I feel so uneasy towards sex and romance is because people are so weird about it. For example the recent and worrying rise in misogynistic rhetoric ("alpha male" crap,) restrictions placed on reproductive rights, possible restrictions placed on marriages too, purity culture, inadequate sex ed, porn, monogamous culture, heteronormativity, cisnormativity, amatonormativity, amongst tons of other things...

Honestly all these things make me so depressed and hopeless. I'm witnessing regression in real time and it's scary. Especially scary as a acearo nonbinary adult who'd love to have procedures done to make my body nicer for me to live in.

The future seems bleak, bleaker than it already was for me. Worst of all I have no power to change anything. It's so frustrating. Reality sucks.

Sorry for such a depressing post, I just had to get some of this off my chest.

[pretty-ds]

This could be fun!

NSFW ASKS. Give me the number of the questions you are curious about. I will give you asks in return if you would like. 🌸💗🌸

1: Kitchen Counter, Couch, or on top of the dryer?

All of them

2: Your last sexual encounter: Good or Bad and why:

By myself 2 days ago. It was great because i know me and what i like.

3: A fictional person that you think would be good in bed:

Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice.

4: Something that never fails to make you horny:

Fingers in my mouth. I am a very oral girl and a Doms hands just do it for me. Not just any Dom, someone i have chosen.

5: Where is one place you would never have sex:

On top of a fire ant hill

6: Weirdest thing that ever made you horny:

Watching a man playing with his ring

7: How are you after a really good f$%k?

Depends on the type of f$%k but overall, relaxed

8: Have you ever got so wet in the night that you wake up wanting some sexual activity?

Yes

9: Tell me your wettest dream?

I could make something up but in all honesty, i don't remember

10: Top or bottom?

Bottom in my role as a sub. Both as in positions

11: What body attracts you the most, men or women?

men in a physical manner, women in an artistic viewpoint

12: Ever kissed someone of the same sex?

Yes

13: Home alone and you’re bored. What do you do?

Log on to Tumblr, of course

14: Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find:

Adult toys

15: Weirdest nickname a significant other has ever called you:

I was once in a relationship with a historian and he called my breasts Osgood and Farley because of WWII bunkers located on the California coast. This was the ultimate in compliments from that guy

16: Are you a touchy feely person?

Yes

17: If you were/are a lesbian, would you go for the women/girls who act like men, or the ones who act like girls?

I suppose it would be to whom i was attracted. I admit i find girly girls very attractive but i have also seen a few hot boy-girls (for lack of a better term)

18: Does a massage get you wet?

That depends where on my body the massage was given and who is the person massaging

19: Is it ever okay to not use a condom:

Yes. Long term, monogamous relationships and those trying to conceive

20: If there’s one place a girl/guy should touch you to make you instantly horny, where is that

my mouth or neck. But if i am highly attracted to the person, any place would do it

21: Has a guy/girl even touched you or discreetly groped you while clubbing or in a crowded place?

Yes

22: Ever left the house without wearing any underwear?

Yes. Very intentionally

23: What do you wear when you go to bed?

Depends on the weather, if it is cold i wear cute pajamas. In the hot summer months i wear a t-shirt and panties

24: Biggest turn on:

D/s

25: Worst possible time to get horny:

In church

26: Do you like it when your sexual partner moans:

Yes!

27: Worst sexual idea you ever had:

I don't recall but i am sure than have been a few

28: How much fapping is too much fapping:

If said fapping causes injury

29: Best sexual complement you ever got:

I taste like peach juice

30: What do you think you and/or the opposite sex looks the sexiest in?

Confidence

31: Have you ever been called a tease?

In my year book, i was class flirt so it's about the same thing. Apparently, I flirted but did not follow through. I thought i was being friendly. Who knew?

32: Fill in the blanks: “If they ____________, we are ****in”

If they bring a nice wine, we are drinkin.

33: What your favorite part of your body:

I suppose my face and my chest

34: Love (>,<, or =) Sex For those of us who don’t remember our math thats “greater than, less than, or equal to]

Love is > sex

35: What do you wear to bed?

See #23

36: When was the last time you masturbated:

See #2

37: Do you have any nude/masturbating pictures/video of yourself?

I have nudes. Not for public consumption

38: Have/would you ever have sex outside?

Yes!

39: Have/would you ever masturbate at work?

I have

40: Have/would you ever have sex on a plane?

If it were comfortable and legal, yes

41: What is one song you’d like to have sex to?

Powerful by Ellie Goulding and Major Lazer. String of Pearls by the Glen Miller Orchestra for soft and slow lovemaking

42: Has anyone ever posted nude pictures of you online?

Not that i am aware of

43: How do you feel about tattoos on someone you are interested in?

If i am interested in them then obviously i'm alright with tattoos

44: Does size really matter to you?

No. Confidence and intelligence matter to me

45: Is there anything you do on the internet that you would not like your significant other to see?

Yes

46: Do you own any sex toys? (what is it? (how long have you had it?)

I have quite a few toys and a few BDsm toys. They are different ages going as far back to 2017

47: Would you give your significant other access to your internet history?

If my future Dom asked me, yes

48: Would you be offended if your significant other suggested you get plastic surgery?

No. I am my own worst enemy and focus on imagined faults. No one can be better at that than me

49: Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute?

Prostitute in the high-class escort kind of way. But it would never happen

50: Who gave you your last kiss? Did it mean anything?

My husband. Yes, It means he loves me

51: Do you like to have phone sex?

Sometimes but it takes a lot to get me there

52: Do you feel comfortable going “commando”?

No. But i have and probably will again

53: Would you have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn’t shaved their pubic hair?

Depends on whether i am able to breathe or not

54: Booty or Boobs?

Boobs

55: If you had a penis, what would you name it?

Mr Winky

56: Have you ever been on an official date?

Seriously? Yes

57: Have you ever cheated on someone? (Why?)

Yes. I have exclusive tastes that are not understood by many. People into D/s can relate

58: Have you had sex with someone of the same sex?

Yes

59: Have you had sex with more than one person simultaneously?

Yes

60: Have you ever been to a strip club?

Yes

61: Name one naughty act you have done in a public place?

Blow job

62: Sex in the morning, afternoon or night?

With the right person, yes ;)

63: Shower or bath while having sex?

shower

64: Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed?

If you haven't been able to tell by now, aggressive, but that does not mean I want all sexual encounters to be aggressive

65: Love or Money?

Love, with enough money to go out and have a nice time. I would expect my partner to want that from me as well

66: Have you been caught having sex?

Yes

67: Does anyone have naughty pics of you?

Yes

68: Do you like wild sex or romantic sex?

Both. but i generally get more release and relief from wild sex

69: Do you consider hair pulling sexy?

Absolutely

70: What should a guy first do when about to have sex with you?

Lead

71: Something that will never fail to get you horny?

Intelligent conversation, depth, and confidence

72: Favorite sexual things a guy/girl does to you that's not sex?

Putting his fingers in my mouth while talking aggressively sexy to me

73: What do you wear to seduce the opposite sex?

Perfume and a smile

74: Have you ever paid for sex?

Haven't we all in one way or another? With actual money, no

75: Do you like kissing in public?

Yes as long as it's not tongues out, panting, and making out

[nebulouscoffee]

For the ship ask game: Worf/Bashir; Deanna/K'Ehleyr; The O'Brien's/Data; Kasidy Yates/Ro Laren!

Ooooh thanks for all these interesting picks!! (What I'm learning is, either you guys are just extremely good at coming up with ships, or I am a chaotic multishipper who will ship literally anything fhjdskhjfs)

Worf/Julian Bashir- ship it

What made you ship it?

That dart board scene from Way of the Warrior. I didn't even particularly want to ship it, I just have eyes😂

What are your favorite things about the ship?

Yes, Worf's canonical opinion of Julian is "He is a child who plays with toys", but I actually think- if the right situations arose and he got to see Julian as more than just "arrogant chatterbox" and "guy who still has feelings for Jadzia"- Worf would realise to his horror that Julian has a LOT of qualities he's consistently been shown to admire, even some he wishes he could exhibit so readily, like the fearless opposition of authority figures (remember the TNG s4 finale when the Klingon High Council asked Worf to kill that kid saying it was "the Klingon way" and he said "but it is not MY way"? Julian does this kind of thing all the time lol! And with little to no hesitation. Worf is rarely around to witness it, but it's so funny to imagine him being caught off-guard like 👀... girl that honour tho👀 👀)

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Idk if it's unpopular necessarily, but I love putting Worf in polycules and I disagree that he's too monogamous to make it work! I think Worf gets jealous and possessive when someone he's agreed to a monogamous relationship with starts flirting with other people, but if these were always the terms right from the beginning, he'd honour them. Anyway I enjoy a LOT of Worf polycules haha, but the ones that involve Julian are Worf/Dax/Bashir, Worf/Dax/Sisko/Bashir, and (my new personal favourite) Worf/Martok/Garak/Bashir. (Mutual who infected me with that last one, thank you, you know who you are😂)

Deanna Troi/K'Ehleyr- ship it

What made you ship it?

TROI: I didn't know it was possible for a human and a Klingon to produce a child.  K'EHLEYR: Actually, the DNA is compatible, with a fair amount of help. Rather like my parents.  TROI: I know exactly what you mean. My father was human and my mother is a Betazoid.  K'EHLEYR: Really? It was the other way around for me. My mother was human. You must've grown up like I did, trapped between cultures.  TROI: I never felt trapped. I tried to experience the richness and diversity of the two worlds.  K'EHLEYR: Perhaps you got the best of each. Myself, I think I got the worst of each.  TROI: Oh, I doubt that. 

The first time I watched this, I took Deanna's comment at face value- but, both earlier and later episodes explicitly state that Deanna often felt out of place on Betazed, & her sheer discomfort every time Lwaxana comes on board (especially with the way she talks telepathically, which Deanna considers "rude") suggests that she isn't being completely honest here. Which is fascinating! (Truly, having 90s Trek women blorbos is taking inconsistencies and building elaborate webs of explanatory insecurities lmaoo)

What are your favorite things about the ship?

I am a sucker for alien cultures and worldbuilding and the internal worlds of characters who inhabit and oscillate between those worlds, & I've noticed most of the ships I think about a lot are either human/alien or alien/alien (I can project way more easily onto those haha). So Deanna/K'Ehleyr is a goldmine in that regard

(Also, I just love dynamics where a "tough" character has a surprising amount of respect for a softer, more empathetic character)

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I don't know the prevailing opinions on this ship, so I shall once again invoke the Worf Polycule Rule and say K'Ehleyr should have lived and been a recurring character and Deanna's "we hook up every time you're on board the Enterprise" and she and Worf would still have needed Deanna's help raising Alexander S5 onwards so this eventually would've led to Worf/Troi/K'Ehleyr

Miles O'Brien/Keiko Ishikawa/Data- ship it

What made you ship it?

I'm gonna be honest- I had never even thought about this before today, so it was in fact this ask that made me ship it. Thanks!😂

What are your favorite things about the ship?

Well, it allows me to reinterpret a lot of the early Miles/Keiko content in a less "traditional married couple" way, which- as presented on the show, always felt a bit dated for the 24th century lol.

Okay, I'm thinking... We know Keiko was Data's friend first, and it was him who introduced her to Miles, right? So what if she and him originally met because Data was experimenting with having a love life and Keiko saw his profile on Enterprise-D Tinder or whatever and thought "hey, that sweet android man from the arboretum! Why not?" And they ended up making dinner in each other's quarters, infodumping about plants, having sex a few times, no strings attached (I genuinely feel like Keiko would be one of the least weird people about Data's whole No Emotions thing). Meanwhile Miles is grumbling in Ten Forward after a music recital that his life is sort of at a standstill, and he's a bit lonely, he just wants someone to come home to- and Data (the only person listening, naturally, which leads to a one night stand lol) suddenly has the thought- why not set him up with Keiko? And thus- the iconic, infamous, two-show-spanning O'Brien polycule begins.😂 (Jokes aside, Data probably steps out of this arrangement after a bit, once he realises they are deeply in love and headed towards an eventual marriage-with-children situation, and that's how he ends up giving Keiko away at the wedding)

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Are there even... opinions on this one? I guess I could voice what is perhaps an unpopular opinion about Data, which is- I don't actually think he and Geordi ever slept together at any point during TNG. To me, they are one of those "they've never kissed but they are married" situations- like they are way too dependant on each other to risk their friendship like that! I do think Data could've been hooking up with more people than shown in canon, but it was always arrangements like this- ones he could end at any point with minimum damage and no hurt feelings. Geordi is much too close to him for this; but being the O'Briens' third from time to time? Definitely could happen

Kasidy Yates/Ro Laren- ship it

What made you ship it?

Writing a fic about them! (It is one of the many, many Fully Written Fics I Cannot Post, and I am so annoyed with myself hahaha)

What are your favorite things about the ship?

[spoilers for DS9: For The Cause and TNG: Preemptive Strike below]

They are both so unapologetic about their Maquis collaborations it makes me insane! Like, when Ben finds out, Kasidy is sorry about the lying to him part- but the show never makes her realise she was wrong to help those people, or even apologise to him. Same with Ro- when she betrays the crew, Riker just sort of understands (and doesn't even seem that surprised when she turns her phaser on him!) She regrets having to let them down, but not what she felt she had to do for the Maquis (and the Bajorans in it). It's really fun to imagine their paths crossing at some point- maybe Ro was captured by Starfleet and they end up in the same prison after 'FTC'; maybe Kasidy and Ben just never fully rekindle their relationship (not even necessarily because of her betrayal, there's also her clear disapproval of his actions in 'Rapture' and 'TDDUP' to consider) and she finds a much freer existence in the Maquis with Ro? (Breaks my Sisko/Kasidy heart a little, but still. It's interesting🥲) Of course, if we want a less messy more wholesome alternative, she and Ro only meet post-canon - Ro's lost her Maquis family and wants to help deliver aid to the Bajoran diaspora & victims of the Dominion War, Kasidy's trying to pick her life back up after Ben left her. They go on to have many adventures together in their freighter🥰

(The freedom they could give each other to be unrepentant about their criminal behaviour, basically! Literal #BeGayDoCrime ship)

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Despite everything I said above, I think they would actually have their fair share of disagreements. They're both in so much pain! Maybe Kasidy wants to deliver supplies to the civilians suffering on Cardassia Prime, and Ro isn't happy about it. Maybe Ro tries to comfort her with the idea that Ben's still around as a borhya, and it massively backfires. Maybe Kasidy finds Ro's guilt over letting Picard down grating, maybe she projects some of her anger at Ben onto Ro. They'd probably have a lot of weirdly cutting guilt-trippy arguments and passive aggressive makeup sex. But they would still give each other the space to talk, and cry, and like, be angry

[biomegasin]

i feel like relationship anarchy is about to be a big buzz word on tiktok and shit the way enm is now and i just wanna say. On one hand there is obviously some value to the willingness to destruct our notions of relations because of how influenced by ideology they are. i think i am a relationship anarchist hardcore for my romantic relationships bc i see almost absolutely zero value in the nuclear family structure and very little in the rest of the typical predetermined structure of monogamous relationships like living together, buying a house together, financing shit together etc etc beyond the demands of the hegemonic class structure obviously which are very real. however when u apply this concept without any thought to how we DO need to place certain value on certain relationships its just that the value is misplaced in current society, you become an individualist like the strict hetero-patriarchal monogamist you seek to undermine is. like this relationship anarchist i just saw on tiktok was like you do not need to value your mom as your mom and your boss as your boss if you dont want to but im like ok yeah, estrange your family if you need to and also yes, fuck your boss except like how are you going to organize with your coworkers (sorry but trade unionism is mad important to engage in IF u ever wanna revolutionize ANYTHINg u will need to b able to engage w the democratic demands of workers therefore understand your boss as your boss) AND like i think its important to if possible engage with your family as much as possible, honestly, even though its hard and painful work. def speak from a place of privilege-ish there bc my family is not the WORST although..... pretty difficult. anyway. im afraid with relationship anarchy people wont understand that yeah u can deny any structure that is imposed on you but for what? if its not to think about how we can build better relations no point, otherwise its just selfish

[emotionalboygirl]

my partner and I decided to open our relationship. I don't have much interest in seeing anyone new, myself, but I encouraged them to do so if they'd like (I don't think it would be fair to restrict someone in that way, also, we started the relationship out as non-monogamous many years ago so it's not an entirely new concept for us).

so my partner just started seeing a new person, and I can't help but to be sad/jealous/mournful/confused about it. I don't think I'm ready to talk about it just yet with them because a lot of my feelings are still unfinished thoughts. I know a lot of it is internalized dysphoria about my own body and that I know my partner has a preference for women, and for penises. I am not a woman, and I don't have a penis. these are both things I've been insecure about in my life and my relationship, and have been honest about, for the most part. however, this new person they're seeing applies to both of those, and I feel like I could never physically compete with someone who is their perfect physical preference. I know that it is not a competition, but I can't help but feel like it is when this is the first person they've brought into our home.

of course a lot of it would also be that I'm scared they will love me less, and the possibility of a breakup due to them desiring someone else more, even though that's typically not how polygamy works. if that is how it turns out, however, I can be accepting of it, even if it hurts a lot. I care about my partner so much, and I want to see them happy no matter what, even if it's not with me. I also have to rationalize and know that these are hypotheticals, and probably not something that would happen any time soon, if they were to happen at all.

i feel like I'm between a rock and a hard place with my emotions right now, because I still don't know exactly what I do and don't want. I do want my partner to be happy and be able to express their sexuality in a way that they want, with a person that makes them happy and comfortable. but on the flip side, I want that person to be me. I know it's not entirely possible, and that's really tearing me up. I don't think it's fair to have an expectation that my partner should be attracted to me and ONLY me, but boy! jealousy is a bitch and can sneak up in the worst ways. I don't want to be jealous. I want to feel confident in myself and secure in my relationship but with all these new negative feelings swirling around my brain it's hard to feel secure. I feel like the carpet could be ripped out from under me at any point. and I know that's irrational. I know the best way to go about this is to have a level head, be in touch with my own emotions, and listen to what my partner has to say about it.

I think it would be best to ask them how they feel, and afterwards look inward based on what they have to say about everything. I know open, honest communication is the only way to resolve any negative emotions but I'm just not ready since my feelings are all still very fresh and not cohesive. anxiety, fear, and confusion are all present, but I think I need to think quietly and really dig down to the root and find out why I feel these things in order to address it all.

why am I so scared to lose them? why am I so quick to be so insecure? what am I so fearful of?

why am I so frustrated with myself because I have these emotions? I rarely let myself be upset, I feel like I force myself to be positive-minded at all times, and I just need to let myself be sad and angry and confused. it's normal and healthy to have negative emotions. the best way to resolve them is by studying them and understanding them.

I'll be journaling more about this, but for now, I think I need to take a step back and go for a walk. peace

[kyrodo]

I am hopeful after the recent talk with Red but it is pretty clear he's not doing well. He is bogged down by a history of career and project failures, migraine attacks with emotional and mental effects, an immense amount of hardwork both from work itself and from home/the car, nobody to sleep with because I stay up late, Nobody to cuddle which is his own fault, no sex because I gave up on him trying to get me off and it ruins his lips, or bleeds my butt, one of the two, and it's hard to tell Choskey I'll suddenly be gone for a while, and Red actively avoids any such acts anymore after Choskey showed up. He is jealous immensely because of how well me and Choskey get along, how supportive I am of him and how many things we do together while ignoring the fact that we don't do things together because the only thing he ever wanted to play was planetside and anything outside costs money other than walking. He dislikes me being in call with Choskey all the time including on restaurant trips and on walks but also won't join the call himself.

He misses the monogamous part of our relationship. And I kinda knew this was going to be a problem, but I was definitely not happy where I was before. I see Red failing a lot, getting frustrated a lot, or days eaten up by work, sleep, migraines, failures trying to get his projects off the ground or sudden decisions to give up on them even when I'm there to encourage him.

I do not spend a lot of time doing my share of the chores and things would be a lot better if I were tackling that more reliably and more consistently than I have been. I was hopeful when he got a violin the same time I got my flute but he ended up not doing much of anything with it even when I made it a point to practice every day. I thought it would help him work on it too, but it didn't. Red's inability to focus is legendary. Adhd completely controls his life and keeps him from doing anything he wants. Personally I do want to throw medication at it until something works. Because I know even though it'll not completely solve the issue, it is the only thing that will affect whatever chemical imbalance is making him like this. I know from enternode and light that medication is not perfect or guaranteed to be effective and they come with side effects. But I do know it tends to be better than the alternative, especially if what is being treated is considered crippling. Same with Red's depression.

It won't change the fact I'm usually gaming something multiplayer by the time he gets home and that further complicates the possibility of us doing anything together. Stay up too late to sleep with him. Or that I often don't wake up in time to shower with him or wakeup cuddle. Or that I stay home when he does trips to the store, food, etc. Because it doesn't require both of us to be present and I want to use what time I have in the day elsewhere. It doesn't change that I rarely leave the computer to the point it affects my ability to do much in the way of chores, exercise, etc.

It doesn't change that whenever anything goes wrong I tend to post things in places people don't like instead of go to them directly. I am gluttonous in the worst way possible. I crave immediate satisfaction over longer term investments. I want to play, I want to spend as much of my life doing something that makes me happy as I possibly can. And I will sacrifice sleep for it. And I don't like just leaving whatever cohesive articulation in my head unwritten.

So I understand why Red isn't happy but he also has very little to offer me in terms of affection, happiness, social events, or activities. Emotional support, he has trouble enough dealing with himself. Choskey it is easy for me to understand and deal with him better. He's happier than Red. He's easier to keep happy than Red. He's less angry if ever. He's either happy or sad and that is a lot less stressful to deal with. My words are more effective on him than Red. My presence helps him be better and it is more obvious when that is the case.

I know Red would prefer one person to live and die with for better or for worse but I am not a machine. I can't not be affected by his foul moods or frustrations or avoid groaning inwardly and watch fail to even start something he was planning to do for the day, whether or not I'm present. I can't be there for him 24/7 like I can with Choskey, but Choskey weighs less. Not just physically but emotionally. He's easier to support. It's easier to feel like my efforts aren't being put to waste. And we are willing to break rules like being in discord 24/7. Red would never do that.

I am chaos incarnate. I do not keep organized, or at least I care more about function than form. I would be the one to make an ugly house in a sandbox game and live with it because it gets the job done. I don't do things by the book. I have to clear soda cans from my desk each day.

Through all of that Red loved me, took care of me, kept doing things like make bread for me because I was his number one priority, but it means nothing if I'm not happy. It means nothing if we're not happy. Something needed to change. We weren't going to cons anymore or making any effort to visit friends regularly again. Red's retail therapy kept ruining whatever extra money we had and he often put it to waste. And despite all the games I buy my form of recreation is both cheaper and more immediately effective.

I wish Red would finally find a job with less hours, less work, less stress, less work politics, but he seems to be cursed, and I don't have any way to counteract it. I just want our costs to go down so we can actually do something major like a furcon, and I want people to actually be there with or for than just us. Choskey promises that.

I can't fix Red's moods, migraines, failed projects, lack of focus, stressful work environments or inability to do things like homework regularly. There is so much I can't fix. And I don't want to die feeling lonely or unhappy. I want things to work out with both Choskey and Red, but if that can't be the case for one reason or another I am prepared. We have history, but we don't have happiness. Red is a tortured soul, powerless to change his fate, powerless to accomplish anything. In a sense I have my own failures as well, but I have a social life, I have social needs, emotional needs, gaming needs that no matter how well Red takes care of me he can't fully meet them. Red's life is work. If Choskey got a tech job maybe he'd have some breathing room to find something better, but right now Red is worked to the bone. He also willingly makes more work for himself while at work. He's always biting off more than he can chew but it is his very nature to automate, try to improve things try to set these ambitious goals he'll unlikely be able to deliver, and gets nothing for it in the end. And at every new job he does it again. And he never comes home except when it's really late. And if it weren't for Choskey I would be alone for the entire time. He sacrifices his lunch time for work, constantly gets overtime when he doesn't have to, and at any point he could assert his right as a worker to stop being a doormat for every employer.

And he gets burnt out no surprise. And I can't do anything about it. I want to be happy. I want someone to play with. To love with. To be social with. And Choskey plays that role for me extremely well. He has friends and family that welcome me. We do things, we have fun, there's a clear idea of what we're going to do and when. My life feels purpose. I feel like the day was well spent. I have a harder time finding time to do things by myself like Valheim, but that was exactly what I wanted.

Red completely shuts himself off from everybody. And every now and then he'll say something or be loving or be fun to be around, but it is few and far between. I've been holding on since his first Target job waiting for him to find a job that he actually liked or could be relaxed at but it never happens. It's been more than a decade and it never happens. His life completely revolves around stress and he never catches a break. I thought peloton would be his calling but it turned out to be another fluke. I can pray, I can hope, I can wish things will be better for him finally but I can't do anything about it. I need do more chores but beyond that I'm at a loss on how to support him, how to spend time with him, how to properly love him. I want to be with him still but I want to be happy too.

[5dollarpear]

i care so much that I don't care at all ~ glaive

63

It doesn't seem that long ago, the time when emo was used as a pejorative. There are a lot of ways that word can be interpreted. Ranging from a broad and diverse style of hard-core that puts emphasis on negative emotions. Or even a whiny brat that thinks emotions are unique and no one knows what it's like to be like them. Glaive falls somewhere in the middle. Not even being 18, glaive gives the impression he doesn't know exactly where he wants to fall on that spectrum. However, he is certainly reminiscent of the latter. His pop rock performances may be coming from the right place, but the lyrics make it so much more difficult to take him seriously on record.

First and foremost, he is clearly working with the right people. Glaive's craft is traditionally more aligned with hyperpop and digicore. He hasn't completed abandoned these roots as well. Many of the tracks here are undercut with the same variety of white noise that makes his music nondescript and keeps it from being 100% accessible. But don't take that as a sign that his work isn't easy to digest because it is. The track list is packed with adequately put-together pop rock nuggets, all made grimier by glaive vocals, his voice is very obviously underdeveloped. But he knows how to use it. Glaive makes good use of his dynamic range, making for a performance that grabs your attention. Compare this work to another from this year, Post Malone's already forgotten, monogamous 5th album Austin. Also, an uncharacteristic excursion into the pop rock fray. The fact that he played guitar on every track and his trademark love/hate relationship with downers are completely overshadowed by the horrendously bland production. Sucking all remaining life out of this comatose record. I care so much that i don't care at all is not like this.

The lyrics, on the other hand, range from passable and vague to immature and embarrassing. Possibly worst of which is the opener. The clumsily titled "oh are bipolar one or two?" Reads like an angsty adolescent trying to half ass their last words. But it comes across as tasteless and tacky. You can just sense the "this'll teach em!" underscoring each goodbye. Not one of them sounding sincere or from a place of genuine pain. His words of apathy and high school drama make me think of xxxtentacion in a bad way, and sam ray in a good way. The elements of Ray's genius shine through in his tendency to use simple words and ideas to create a larger whole. Each individual word serves a purpose to communicate his concerns and feelings. I care so much is clouded by an air of pretentiousness and self-indulgence

It is unclear where glaive will be by the time his next album comes out. He will presumably be an adult. His fans will also be a lot more mature. If he continues in his current trajectory, he may end up going nowhere. If he continues to change his approach to music, then he might just be ok. He might need to figure out what an ego is first, though.

[nokwisi]

the necessary energy — viktor x f!reader; nsfw

when an experiment involving a mysterious drug known as Calor goes awry, you and Viktor struggle to navigate the resulting effects—both physical, and emotional. note; so, this is my very first attempt at writing for viktor (or arcane, for that matter!), so please bear with me on characterization and all that jazz. science jargon is pulled out of my ass, and in great abundance. apologies, but also not really because this was fun to write! content warning/tags; 18+, sex pollen, multiple orgasms, porn with feelings, scientists being dumbasses, viktor is self-conscious, reader is emotionally stunted, love confessions, slow-build, angst and a dash of fluff. word count; 7.6k, heavy dialogue

It could be a quiet thing, humming to life lazily, blossoming in the space between as you worked side by side on your projects; a wrench passed from your hand to his, a touch that would ignite it just a little more, like fanning a glowing ember aflame.

Although neither of you would say anything, you'll both categorize it within yourselves as something—something inexplicable to two brilliant minds, and it would be ironic in that sense; and lovely; and gradual.

Gradual enough that you won't realize your affinity has evolved to glowing, aching infatuation. Until you're pondering not the relative equations to your current conundrum, but rather the sharp angles of his face, or the pinch of his thick brows; the zeal of determination in his golden eyes as he dissolves into his work.

Indeed, in an alternate reality, the two of you might have been in love.

As it stands now, you're entirely convinced that your confrère believes love to quite possibly be the worst condition of the human mind—'an affliction of productivity, it's symptoms hiding under the guise of yearning hearts and anxious minds'— a rather peculiar ideology for a man ailed such as himself.

You sympathize with Sky, the poor girl's gone and fallen for a man who deems himself monogamous—both mind and body—to the pursuit of science. Married to his work, as it were. Sky could never hold a flame to the burning ambition Viktor harbors. Perhaps, and although the concept is saddening, no one can.

A small, melancholy smile graces your lips as you think back to your time spent at the Academy, where you watched from the perspective of what you can only surmise as that of friendly rival. Witnessing Viktor— already so enamored with the pursuit of knowledge—fall in love with it completely. He would scoff at the notion of mixing pleasure and work, even by way of colloquialism, and the thought makes you huff a laugh.

He's always been set in his ways; driven with a powerful sense of ambition, of curiosity and hunger. Fated to spend endless nights diligently drowning in his work, only to be restricted by the physical limitations of his own body.

It was those quiet nights that you'd gotten to know the Zaunite: sequestered together in the Academy's labs long after all other students had left. The busied scratch of fountain-pen on parchment, tools placed upon tables, comfortable silence that—given time and ingrained curiosity on both ends—broke in the form of questions, and good-natured competitiveness.

Reminiscing silently, you peer down through the double magnifying glasses and into the innards of the mechanism before you, pinching a battery between a pair of tweezers. It's a touch like surgery; wires and gears like sinew and viscera, collaborating in a symphony of machinations to create life—or, in the case of your little friend, a humble emulation.

"You intend to use a lithium power source, then?"

You startle at the voice—one so distinct and lilted there's no questioning it's owner—and let slip the small, albeit very expensive battery. It clinks it's descent into the depths of the open paneling, making quite a ruckus for such a little thing; as though teasing you.

You sigh, a little defeated, a little irked. "Aside from dabbling in potentially nuclear territory, lithium endures power the longest, and is relatively stable." Righting the tweezers in your fingers, you shift and peer determinedly into the bot.

"Yes, but conducting experiments with these batteries have yielded other, potentially failing results to your goal, have they not?" Viktor's cane clacks rhythmically against the porcelain floor as he approaches. "While lithium provides a stable source of energy, it is a gradual winding up of power."

"I feel as though waking up slowly would be preferable to a heart-attack, Vik." You murmur.

Viktor huffs a laugh, "I agree...but sometimes, it is precisely that which the body needs. A potent, powerful jolt of energy."

Focusing on fishing out the battery, you absently acknowledge Viktor's presence at your side: a slight shift of air, a gentle hint of something sugary—sweetmilk, a regular indulgence of his—and warm cedar coalesce to bring his familiar scent. You can hear the way he rolls his fingers against the metal of his cane. He's lingering.

Setting the tweezers down and leaning back from the magnifying glasses, you roll your eyes up and look at Viktor through the fan of your lashes, expression pinched with faux annoyance.

"Please, indulge me more on the semantics of batteries, and their applicable use on a machine you did not create."

Viktor raises his brows, momentarily stunned by your heavy sarcasm, but then something sharpens in his golden eyes. It's a miniscule thing, a flash of guile that's taken years of practice to decipher.

"Ah, you're right—my many successful endeavors in automation certainly wouldn't be of use to you," he waves his hand dismissively, you roll your eyes with a touch of genuine annoyance, now, "I'll leave you to your work, then."

You wish, with no real malice, that he isn't inarguably better at automation than you. His cane signals his departure, slower than his usual cadence—he's giving you time to change your mind, your brain supplies—and with an exasperated sigh and a knowing smile, you turn in your chair.

"What would you recommend, then?"

Viktor stops not halfway to the door, pivoting on unsteady legs to look at you with an insufferable, endearing smirk. It's a look you'd come to know quite well. Years of working side by side has provided plenty of time to memorize it.

"Oh, don't look so smug, Vik. There'll be no working with you."

Viktor laughs softly, lured back to your side with a newly invigored gleam in his eyes. "Apologies, although let us not pretend you aren't exactly who you are. I thought that stubbornness of yours was left at the Academy—"

"Right alongside your manners, it seems." You quip smoothly, "you aren't making this very easy, Viktor."

He gives an inquisitive quirk of his brows, his voice light and feigning, "making what easy? Accepting graciously offered advice from a former classmate? Ah—of course, a scientist such as yourself must take great pride in self-sufficiency."

"You know, Sky often speaks of your humble nature. I've yet to see it for myself." You lob out, teasingly. The smile that'd taken over Viktor's sharp features wanes just barely, but enough for you to notice. Interesting. "Enough banter, Viktor—would you help me with this?"

He blinks twice, and pans his attention from you, to the vaguely humanoid bot splayed on the workshop table before you.

"Right—yes, of course." He steps closer, and with his free hand gently grazes the copper housing equivalent of it's chest. "You wish for the function to be that of assisting the handicapped, no?"

You nod, fleetingly glance to the cane perching Viktor on his feet, and say, "yes; simple command functions such as carrying items, text-to-speech for the hearing impaired, and potentially an alarm system. I'm brainstorming more, but it seems it will remain a concept unless I find a suitable source of energy."

"I see." Viktor hums. "Perhaps a differing power source may be the key to creating a constant, steady stream of energy. Batteries, they are—" he shakes his head a little, "eh, well they are susceptible to erosion. Not ideal for a machine that mimics life."

You huff humorlessly, "that depends on who you ask. Humans erode just as well. Some fear a sentient machine that may well outlive them, even if it's sole function is to fold your underthings. But, I understand."

"Have you considered hydraulics?" Viktor queries.

You knit your brows, echoing incredulously, "hydraulics?"

"Yes. It seems simple—elementary. However, I have heard of amplified iterations. Charged fuel, of sorts." He says, vague.

Leaning forward, you peer once more into the cavity of your machine. A thick lattice of wire twined together, reminiscent of an artery, protrudes from the housing case of the battery; the heart, it you will.

"Explain." You simply say.

Viktor shuffles a little on his feet, gripping the handle of his cane tight enough to elicit a small creak. "It is an iteration of a substance well known to the undercity—"

Quickly, you sit straight. "Viktor—"

"It is not immediately dangerous, as it has been stripped of it's more extreme reactive properties. The rate of deterioration is far less than that of oil, or water, or any other viable liquid. And it is charged, as I said."

You're scoring your lower lip with your teeth, ruminating. "Meaning a continuous cycle: powering itself...no need for batteries, but rather a cooldown system..." Tearing yourself from the magnifying glasses once more, you look to Viktor. "What is it called?"

"They call it Calor."

"I take it you already acquired some?"

Viktor's mouth twitches with the threat of a smile, "of course. Why else would I have suggested it?"

Fluidly, he slips a hand into the pocket of his trousers, procuring a glass vial of liquid; it's red, glimmering in waves as he displays it between his thumb, and forefinger. You stand, approaching to gently pluck the vial from him. Viktor's gaze flits between your face—ostensibly gauging your reaction—and the Calor.

"What are your findings?" You ask, turning the vial over in your palm, watching the light from your workstation refract through the substance; it shimmers, in a way.

Viktor replies, giving a long-winded explanation on the properties of the liquid, and you don't fail to notice the ostentatious, scientific jargon he uses as he does it—as though trying to bury something else beneath the complexity of it all. Still, you listen to him patiently, take in the information he gives, and there—at the tail end of it all: "Is commonly ingested to trigger synapses in the cerebral hemisphere to the amygdala—"

"This is a drug." You state plainly, looking at Viktor deadpan.

Viktor stutters marginally over his words, stopping to look at you with what you believe is the most poorly constructed act of innocence you've ever seen.

"You want me to power my handicap-assisting robot...with drugs."

"It is only a drug if ingested." Viktor says, matter-a-fact, "just as it is a fuel, if applied as such. So, I suggest we do not ingest it."

You look at Viktor for a beat longer, as though anticipating a sense of exasperation that does not come. Sometimes, you really wish it did. If only to dampen the self-satisfaction that manifests on his ivory features when he realizes—and he really is so smug about it—that you're relenting.

You heave a sigh and curl your fingers around the vial. Viktor's anticipatory expression melts into a smile, and for the life of you, you can't find it in you to be annoyed—genuine, or not.

"We will tell no one until we have either perfected it's uses, or managed to replicate it's properties in a safer, less...illegal fashion." Viktor says, his mind leaping right into it as his body settles a touch warily into the seat you'd occupied moments prior.

You catch his amber eyes with your own. "I'm not going to ask how you even procured this."

"Yes, it would probably be best not to."

"Fantastic! Your integration of conduits are reminiscent of veins. Entirely synthetic, inspired by the organic." Viktor muses, his focus poured through the magnifying glasses and into the newly retconned innards of your bot. "Have you already calibrated the coolant system?"

You hum in affirmation, standing beside Viktor as you slip on a pair of protective gloves. "All that remains is the Calor."

"Basic functions?"

"In place. If all goes well, our little friend here will, at the very least, be capable of movement." You reply, excitement curling your lips as you begin transferring the Calor.

"To run, one must walk." Viktor murmurs, watching your hands as you unscrew the vial.

A light hiss of air punctuates the action, followed by the unmistakable aroma of...cinnamon. Scrunching your nose, you toss a glance at Viktor.

"Manufactured aroma, to make the drug more appealing." He supplies, "we should not be affected unless properly ingested."

"Should not?" You jab lightly, "I'm surprised you didn't run any experiments with the effects of the drug itself."

"I don't think I'm well suited to execute a proper experiment," Viktor replies, lifting his cane up slightly with emphasis, "and for obvious reasons, I could not employ a subject."

You hum softly in response, engrossed as you transfer the Calor to the renovated housing core of your bot. It's a tense thing; a slight tremble could have you spilling the fuel all over the workshop station. Viktor remains as equally silent, watching you work.

Upon completion, you exhale a steady, long breath.

"Let us create life, then." Viktor announces, and you can't help the little snort you give in response.

"If it's life you want to create, there are much easier methods." You tease him, and the very subtle color that blooms on Viktor's sharp cheekbones makes you feel proud—it isn't easy to make him flustered.

He coughs a little, "of course, but what scientists would we be if we did not overcomplicate everything?"

"The boring kind." You smile, setting aside the empty Calor vial before clapping your hands together, excitedly. "Now, for the moment of truth."

Gently, as though your little bot's sentient and sleeping already, you close the paneling on it's chest, and secure it in place. To start the initial pump lies a switch on the counter-side of the bot—the equivalence of it's spine—and with no ounce of hesitation, you flip it.

Taking a small step back, you tug your protective goggles over your eyes and cast a fleeting glance at Viktor. He's already wearing his, leaning forward, perhaps a touch too much, with anticipation.

A gentle whirring purrs to life after a brevity of silence. Creation in sound; you can hear the bot's artificial veins being pumped with the Calor. A triumphant grin begins splitting your face as you watch, breath held in your throat as though waiting for the automation to breathe, first.

The sharp piquancy of cinnamon fills your senses, and it isn't until Viktor places a hand on your shoulder that you realize he's been saying your name—and with an underlying urgency that pre-emptively makes your stomach drop.

"—is overheating," you catch, the whirring purr since escalated into a grating, mechanical din. "The coolant system is not engaging, we must stop the process, or the Calor may vaporize."

You tear your attention from Viktor, to the bot. There's steam—although not uncommon with mech these days, it most certainly is not meant to happen here—erupting from the fissures of it's outer-shell.

Unthinking, you touch the bot to move it. Heat bleeds through your gloves, making you flinch and hesitate, giving the automaton just enough time to implode in on itself. The steam takes on a pink hue, curling upwards sinuously; Calor invading the air as the remnants of the liquid seeps from the bot like blood.

"Step back—open that window, now," Viktor struggles to hastily move from his position, his tone sharp and pointed. "We must ventilate the room before—" he coughs, clamping a hand over his mouth as he shuffles further from the table.

The spice of cinnamon burns your nostrils, tickles your throat, seeps into your lungs enough to have you stifling a series of coughs as you quickly run to the window and throw it open. The air outside is brisk, and you inhale greedily before realizing Viktor hasn't joined you.

"Retrospectively—" Viktor says, coughing intermittently, "we should have worked with ventilated masks. We failed to—" more coughing, spurring you to move from the window towards him as he leans haphazardly against the table, "failed to consider the simplicity of heat and liquid."

"Yes, a simple mistake, but you need to get fresh air and not contemplate what we should have done—save that for later, Vik." You close the space between you two, reaching out to coax him with a hand around his forearm.

Viktor makes a noise when you touch him, a strained sound akin to a whine, and for a fleeting moment you're concerned you might've hurt him. Quickly ceasing your touch, you search his tense expression, noting the color in his gaunt cheeks.

He averts his eyes, looking downwards, and the underlying chagrin there is enough to distract you from the heat that simmers beneath your skin. A slow, gradual thing that doesn't register as anything more than raised temperature from the steam.

"I...may have withheld a particular aspect of the drug." Viktor says, sounding uncharacteristically meek. The way he reaches up and tugs at the tie around his throat—a simple movement, nothing of importance—catches your attention. "I'm sorry."

The heat is rising, now. What you thought was just the steam proves to be something more: a reaction of the drug, most definitely. You swallow thickly and try to ignore the gooseflesh on your skin, the shiver that threatens to trickle down your spine.

"We ingested it, you need to tell me everything you know about it's effects, Viktor. We can go to the infirmary—"

"We cannot go to the infirmary." He cuts you off, his usual soft tone sharpened. "It is an illegal substance, you could lose your work."

Your brows knit, "this drug could seriously hurt you, Viktor. We don't know what effects it could have on—"

"A cripple?" He finishes, unfairly harsh as locks his gaze with yours. His pupils flood his eyes, blown wide to whittle the amber down to a sliver. "You need not worry about me." He tacks on, marginally softer.

It's the drug, it has to be, because you can feel the frustration he displays. It coils within you, deep down in your belly like a hunger. It makes your blood pulse painfully loud in your ears, has your fingers tingle like static. You push through the sensation, absently tugging on the collar of your blouse. You don't notice the way Viktor follows the movement from beneath his brows, his head cast downward.

"If we can't go the infirmary, I need to know what we're dealing with, here." You exhale shakily, growing uncomfortable with the way your shirt chaffs against your skin. Without thinking, you begin popping open the buttons on your vest, working it off your shoulders.

"Elevates body temperature, obviously. You should rid yourself of your vest, it helps."

He shakes his head a little, looking anywhere but your face, "the vendor may have mentioned it's uses as...an aphrodisiac."

You freeze in your movements, fingers fisted in the fabric of your vest as you place it on the table. Glancing at Viktor—perhaps timidly, with this newfound knowledge—you catch the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly. There's a scarcely noticeable sheen of sweat beading along his brow.

You can see the way his slender torso rises and falls with his uneven breathing, the grip he holds on the notch of his cane turning his knuckles white; and then, just beyond that, the very obvious strain of his slacks—

Whipping around to spare you both of embarrassment, you're assaulted with a powerful jolt between your thighs. It throws you entirely off kilter, weakening your knees enough that you have to slap a hand against the table to balance yourself.

"We should wait it out, then." You grit out, but the prospect of enduring this quickly growing ache makes you irrationally irritated. "All drugs...filter through the body eventually."

The clang of Viktor's cane hitting the floor has you quickly pivoting; what you see makes that heavy pulse between your thighs thrum, arousal so poignant it makes your limbs feel weakened: he's holding himself up with one hand on the table, lanky body bowed inwards as he presses a shaking palm against the hardness in his pants.

His teeth are clenched, lips curled into a grimace as he screws his eyes shut. He looks as though he's in agony, but the pinch of his thick brows and the clear flush that colors his face renders you incapable of thinking anything other than how absolutely beautiful he is.

Has he always been so breathtaking?

Your throat is dry, clicking when you swallow, and he's moving his hand now, a trembling undulation that forces a desperate whine from his mouth. The answering throb of your cunt feels like a Pavlovian response; and you can't stop the small, yearning moan that escapes your lips.

"Manual stimulation," he stutters, "it—nnnh—it alleviates the symptoms." His slender hips buck forward, and you can't take it anymore.

"Vik—" you croak, and find that your tongue now feels a heavy, useless thing in your mouth. The heat is consuming you, sweating from your body, pooling liquid lust in a manner so intense you swear you can feel it slither down the insides of your thighs.

Pointedly, Viktor turns his darkened gaze upon you, breathing ragged, skin blushed and hot. There's such intensity in his eyes;

"Touch yourself."

It comes out sounding like a demand, and perhaps it is—regardless, you concede, because the desire that's coursing through your veins, the way he looks at you, demands it just as well. You turn from him, leaning against the opposite end of the table before hesitantly slipping a hand beneath your skirt.

Whatever reservations you might've had in this moment melt away the instant your fingers graze the soaked fabric of your panties, the faintest touch against your over-sensitized clit making you whine loudly.

Viktor groans in response.

You shiver at the sound of him, and he's so close, close enough that you can hear not just his small noises, his labored breathing, but the rustling of clothes; the implications of that making you burn hotter, making your fingers work quicker, clumsily slipping beneath the gusset of your panties to glide along your wet slit.

It's searing pleasure, entirely not enough, and without a second thought, you push two fingers inside yourself, spread them to feel the stretch, and then—"Viktor..."

You moan his name. Lustful and weighted and so incredibly needy, and somewhere far away yet so frustratingly close, you hear his breath hitch in his throat. There's a slick, repetitious clicking noise emitting from beside you—from him, and in your stupor it takes a second to register what it is.

You're suddenly struck with the overwhelming urge to see him—gods, you want to see him so bad it feels like a necessity.

"Let...oh, fuck—let me see you, Vik." You plead without an ounce of thought, functioning on the innate whims of lust.

There's a brief moment of hesitation. You would worry of overstepping boundaries, but that seems a bit of a moot point now.

"I d-don't—mmmh—you want to...?" he stumbles over his words, sounding incredulous and piqued in equal balance.

You can't stop the movement, like your body has torn from cognizance, acting through sheer impulse as you turn your head to peer at him.

The vision before you makes you clench down on your own fingers and moan: he's gone and unbuttoned his vest entirely, undone his tie and the first few fastens of his dress shirt beneath that. There's sweat beading on his exposed chest; sharp clavicles and alabaster skin shuddering as he groans with the movement of his hand.

Your attention drops from his beautifully tormented face, downwards. He's fisting his cock, thick and long, flushed a lovely pink at the tip where it pearls with precum. It's a frantic pace he's set for himself, the tendons in his hand prominent as he strokes himself off, barely keeping his balance against the table in the process.

"Vik—" you whine, pumping your fingers within yourself, trying to reach a spot within you that seems to move further and further away as the seconds pass, "fuck, you're so beautiful."

He gives a trembling groan in response, his eyes opening to a lust heavy, haft-mast to meet yours. "You're letting the drug speak for you."

You bite your lip, "no, Vik, I'm not."

His brows pull upwards, a look akin to despair, like he doesn't fully believe your words to be true—but wishes them to be. And then his gaze drops to where your hand has disappeared beneath your skirt, and his own hand stutters, the smooth stroke he's employing slipping from his grasp. The frustrated growl of a noise Viktor releases ignites something baser within you.

"Let me help you, I...I can help you."

Viktor shakes his head, "I am fully capable of—"

"I know you are, Viktor." You cut him off, snappier than you intended, but you're so damn tense you feel as though you'll burst any moment. "I'm not offering through pity, I'm offering because I want to."

A heavy silence balloons in the space between for a moment, Viktor's amber gaze searing into yours, before he closes his eyes and gives a small, relenting nod of his head.

"Yes," it's nearly a whisper, "yes, please."

Your heart stutters in your chest, seizing up with anticipation—to touch him, to feel him in a way that's never occurred to you before this moment, and yet, rings as completely inevitable all at once.

Quiet nights spent in the Academy labs, admiring his work, admiring him; a touch of fingers, a spark categorized as something, something—

Your fingers slip from within yourself, the lost felt acutely, but you think the ache is worth it when you step into Viktor's space, and he looks down at you through heavy lids; desperation was made for him.

Keeping your eyes locked, you reach down. Viktor's hand slows, stops, he whines softly at the loss of friction, and when you wrap your fingers around the space his does not fit, he chokes on his breath and moans. He is weighted and thick in your palm, slick with precum that allows you to stroke with ease.

He looks as though he wishes to close his eyes, but can't find the will to completely look away from you; attention darting from your face, to your hand, to the floor when you wring another deliciously debauched moan from him, as though he's ashamed of it.

Your skin feels scorching, arousal pulsing through your veins like magma, spurring you to move quicker. You can feel the way his cock twitches in your hand, stiff like steel silk as you analyze the way his pretty features twist.

"It feels—I'm g-going—" his breath catches in his throat, his hips bucking into your touch as his other hand snaps up to grip your shoulder, balancing himself. "—cítíš se tak dobře," he whispers harshly, and although you have absolutely no idea what he's saying, the very intensity of the words is enough to make a shiver lance down your spine, settling hotly in your gut.

You're enamored, craving his release almost as much as your own, losing your self in the way Viktor falls apart in your hands. You've always preferred the process of creation, but no amount of destruction has ever looked as magnificent as him in this moment.

"C'mon, Vik." You breathe, moving in closer, close enough that his breath is on your lips, and his focus has nowhere to turn except into the depths of your eyes, "come for me."

His hand hastily moves from your shoulder, to the nape of your neck, fingers burrowing into the notches of your spine. His teeth grit, the workshop table creaking in protest with the way he grips the edge, trying to find some semblance of balance as he bucks haphazardly into your soft palm.

He swears in his mother tongue, you can tell by the way he hisses the word, and then he grits out your name; yanking you forward to smash his mouth against yours in the messiest, most desperate iteration of a kiss you've ever experienced.

He tastes sweet, his moans vibrating against your teeth, and it feels more like you're simply sharing the air. Viktor's attempt at a kiss dissolves in concert to the stiffening of his frame; the tightening of his fingers on your skin; the finality of the broken groan he gives.

You feel his cock pulse, hot wetness spilling against your hand. You moan softly into his mouth, gazing up at his blissed out expression through your lashes—softer now, shattered, but by way of euphoria. His mouth is open and his eyes are glossed, heavy.

Giving him a moment to chase down his breath, you pull back and give an involuntary whine at the shift of movement. Pressing your thighs together, flexing the muscles, hurting with how much you need him.

Then, with a suddenness that takes you completely off guard, Viktor pulls you back into him, kissing you properly—surprisingly sensual for a man who has denounced love. He licks a line along your tongue hotly, open-mouthed and fluid, guiding your head to the perfect angle to completely devour you.

"Need you." You gasp against him, uncaring of the residual spend on your hand as you start to finish his earlier process of removing his clothes. "Vik, please," whining, splitting his dress shirt open to paw at the hardness of his chest.

Viktor draws back, his hand coming around to cup your chin, grazing his thumb against your tumescent lower lip. His countenance is more lucid, the orgasm you'd torn from his body dulling the sharpness of the Calor, but there is still a fire burning in his eyes; you wish nothing more than to be scorched.

"You know, I'll never tire of hearing you beg me for help." Whatever slyness he's aiming for falling short with the unsteadiness of his breathing.

A soft puff of a laugh escapes you as you reach up and take hold of his wrist, fingers shaking against the drug, still burning you up, "there's no one else capable, even now."

"Truly?"

"I've stroked enough of your ego, Viktor...among other things." You exhale, impatiently. "Would you help me, please?"

Viktor answers you with a quick kiss, his lips touching yours as he whispers hotly, "of course. On the table, if you would."

You don't need to be told, twice.

The metal is frigid against your thighs as you slide up, barely mindful of your failed automaton and the remaining Calor spilled from it's artificial veins. You're trembling with anticipation as Viktor pulls the chair up close, taking a seat before you as though preparing to delve into his work.

Mixing pleasure and work.

The thought is fleeting but still makes your stomach swoop, and then Viktor's hands are behind your knees, the contact burning your skin with desire. Notching your legs higher until your shoes are against the table, you follow the motion of him splaying them wide. The blush that overtakes you is sweltering, your head reeling with suspense at the thought of those long, dexterous fingers working between your thighs, sinking into your heat, twisting and stretching you out—

"Do you know how long I have thought about this?"

Your heart lodges in your throat, blocking the moan that bubbles there when he closes the distance, stroking his fingers against the thin, soaked layer between you, and him.

Having someone else—him—touch you right now feels as though your nerves have been exposed, raw and dangerously sensitive. You buck up, and Viktor reacts accordingly: gripping the crescent of your hip with his free hand, pinning you back down with a surprising, and absolutely frustrating display of strength.

You want him to just get on with it already, but whatever sense remains within you demands to explore what he just said.

"Tell me," you hiccup a moan, his touch evolving into a more firm caress, "h-how long."

Viktor maneuvers his hand deftly, pushing aside that barrier to touch you, skin against skin, sliding two fingers against your slit to press inside your tight heat with no ounce of resistance. The moan you give is lewd, splintering the stillness of the room as it coalesces with Viktor's appreciative groan.

"Ever since the Academy." He breathes, and the tension's back in his voice, Calor swirling together with the natural arousal of having you in such a position, "when you criticized me, and complimented me—challenged me."

He starts pumping his fingers, pushing them to his knuckles, curling them just the slightest, drawing back. You're so wet, and it's obscene, and lewd, and everything you ever wanted. You struggle to keep your focus on him, propped up on wobbly hands, but you try, because the imagery of Viktor fucking you with his fingers is too intoxicating to miss.

"You were the first person to truly push me. Who looked at me, and decided I was not frail. I will not break." His movements quicken with the conviction in his tone, dragging his fingertips against that bundle of nerves nestled deep inside you.

It's electric—charged, and so, so sensitive.

Your head falls back, losing yourself completely, moaning unabashed as your hips attempt to roll in time to the relentless piston of his fingers. When Viktor's thumb ventures upwards between your slick lower lips, honing in on your swollen clit to rub sharp little circles around it, you feel as though you may truly ascend.

It's too much, not enough, searing pleasure that has you squirming on the table, pushing against him and pulling away all at once.

"Vik—!" You gasp, eyes screwed shut tight enough you see phosphenes, "Vik—oh gods, I can't—"

"You can." He exhales sharply, "you have to."

You whine, that high keen of a noise bursting in the air when Viktor removes his thumb, dips down and closes his lips around your clit.

Instinctively, you try to close your thighs around his head, but he pushes one away, ignores the other, and sucks, giving a deep, throaty hum that vibrates throughout your entire being.

Scrambling, you find an anchor in his hair, gripping the tousled strands tight enough you're sure that you're hurting him. Viktor's responding groan feels like raw electricity, rippling through you, catching every single nerve in a miasma of pleasure.

You feel like you're glowing from the inside, out; bursting with pleasure so intense it renders you incapable of vocalizing other than his name. He does not seem to mind, if the eagerness of his tongue flicking against your pulsating clit is evidence, enough.

Gradually, Viktor winds down alongside the calming of your moans, licking gingerly against you, soothing you as he slips his fingers from your still aching cunt. You whine deliriously at the loss, the scraping of the chair heard distantly, and then he's above you, kissing you.

You can taste yourself on him, spurring you to kiss him back with vigor. Pulling on his hair tighter than you intend, as though willing him to never leave, Viktor grunts against you.

"S-Sorry," you shudder, "I just—"

"I know." He sounds winded, feverish, "I need you, too. I have always needed you."

Your heart sings at the confession, at the revelation.

Viktor's lips leave yours, gliding to the cusp of your jaw, kissing down the column of your throat as he moves his hands beneath you. You lift your hips without thinking, not needing to, knowing that this is what you want—what you have always wanted.

You just needed the necessary energy to realize it; a potent, powerful jolt.

Reemerging from sucking what you're sure is a lovely mottle of purple on your neck, Viktor locks his golden eyes with yours. Between your bodies, you feel the heat and weight of his cock pressing against your slick; teasing, prodding, but never quiet delving into where you desperately need him.

"Viktor," you reach out, "please," pulling him close once again, grazing your lips against his in an almost kiss, "fuck me."

His entire frame shudders in response, hips canting forward as though he can't control it. With the way you're feeling, you're positive it's exactly that; and you whine, thrilled and eager against him when he sinks deeper.

The stretch feels divine, the sensation of him slowly sheathing his cock within your throbbing cunt overwhelming. Viktor vocalizes his appreciation of you with a moan that cracks right down the middle, sounding nothing shy of wrecked.

Dropping his head to your shoulder, his hold on your waist bruising, he pushes far enough that the sharpness of his hipbones dig into the plush flesh of your inner thighs.

He's murmuring something against your shoulder, strings of dialect that remain foreign to your ears, but praising in it's lilt, and then, as though struck with the realization that you cannot understand him, Viktor turns his head and begins kissing your neck.

"Amazing...you are amazing." He pants, sounding as overcome with you, as you are, him. "Fantasy does you no justice."

You buck against him in response, mewling deliriously as your hands roam anywhere they can reach; through his hair, down his back, following the ridges of his spine. You can feel the shift of bone, the tense of muscle as he finally—finally starts to move.

It's a slow drag, his length spearing you so deep there's a slight twinge of pain before he draws back, leaving you feeling achingly empty. The process is maddening, and you're squirming, rolling your hips, pawing at him, pleading with your glassy eyes for him to just—

"Viktor—harder, please!"

He grunts, digs his fingers into your flank tight enough you're sure you'll bruise, pulling you against him in unison to a forceful thrust. The table jars, the metal clinking of tools rolling off and onto the floor echoing through the room. Viktor garners your attention with the reverent touch of his trembling fingers against your damp cheek.

You don't realize you're crying; desperate tears that line your flushed skin, until Viktor gathers them with a swipe of his thumb. He knows—of course he does, and with all problems he's come to face, he resolves it through action, determination.

His gaze darkens, molten gold and liquid jet, thick brows pinching with focus. It's a look you've seen countless times before: when he immerses himself in his work, vigilant in his pursuit.

His unsteady rhythm evolves, each forward stroke purposeful, driving his cock to the hilt each time, and you would praise him for it, if your voice wasn't rendered to a staccato of high, keening moans.

It feels good—it feels seismically better than good: searing, white-hot pleasure that blooms in your belly, coiling and tightening each time Viktor's sharp hips collide with your quivering thighs, the slick crash of skin against skin resonating through your whole body.

And the look on his face; you've always appreciated his undeterred focus, but never considered you'd be the subject. Viktor's looking at you like you're the only thing that matters; hyper-focused as he fucks you hard enough the table actually shifts.

With a grit of his teeth, he pushes himself upright, takes proper hold of your waist, and yanks you against him. Your back arches as you cry out, writhing on the workshop table as he digs deep; bottoming out each time, his thick cock grazing every single electric spot within you.

"Oh f-fuck—oh gods," you groan, quickly spiraling towards an orgasm you're not entirely sure you'll be able to handle; physically or mentally.

You don't want this to end. To lose the euphoria that courses through your veins, the imagery of Viktor above you, pouring his entire being into you as though making you cum is the answer to all his problems; the missing variable to all his equations.

He looks beautiful like this: sweat beading on his skin, shirt split open to frame his angled body; sinewy muscle flexing and rolling with the relentless thrust of his narrow waist. Freckles dot his alabaster skin like perfectly placed constellations. Wayward strands of hair hang over his eyes in an elegant dishevelment.

Gods, why did it take a failed experiment and a dose of liquid lust for you to realize—

"I love you," you gasp out, and it feels as though those words were carried within you all along; trapped behind your teeth, sitting on the tip of your tongue, "I love you, Viktor—"

You can see the exact moment those words hit him. His tense expression softens; brows lifting, eyes clearing, like seeing for the first time. You're on the precipice, and the way Viktor jerks against you, like your confession is his undoing, sends you over completely.

Viktor loses his strength, crumbles against you as he moans open mouthed against your shoulder. You can feel the heavy pulse of his cock, nestled deep inside you as you clench involuntarily tight, succumbing to an orgasm that you can feel in the very marrow of your bones; all encompassing, a maelstrom of pleasure.

There's a blooming warmth, and you let slip a blissful, hazed whine from you realize that it's him—finding his release. His weight trembles above you, his voice a series of strangled swears and gravel-pitched moans as he rocks against you, chasing down the ecstasy to the last drop.

The tension that's been progressively winding up in your bodies releases in an almighty, euphoric rush, and in the aftermath, there is only you, and him.

No Calor to blind your senses, to manifest confessions where there may otherwise be none, and you realize—with Viktor's head cradled in your arms, resting on your chest—that everything you've said and done has been true. Regret does not fester within you, all you can think about is him. How often you had thought about him, still think about him, years and years past a time you resolved not to.

"How...do you feel?"

Viktor's voice, exhausted and perhaps disquieted, snaps you from your stupor. Your attention flicks from the vacant spot on the ceiling you'd been staring at, downwards.

"I feel..." you begin, and there's a hollowness behind your sternum now, an uncertainty. Does he feel the same as you? Was his heated confession as genuine as yours? "I feel...better."

You swallow thickly.

Viktor shifts, pushing himself up right. You silently mourn the loss of his heat and weight atop you; flinch at the feeling of him slipping out of you, and the grimace that twists his mouth in the process. His gaze, now lucid, aware and painfully reluctant to meet yours, darts around the immediate area in search of something.

"I am sorry. I should not have...erm, I should not have finished inside—" he cringes at his words, glances down and hastily begins tucking his length away, blushing furiously. "Where are the towels? You keep towels in your workspace, no?"

"Viktor."

Moving to sit straight, you can't ignore the ache between your legs. You didn't realize how much the drug dulled your other senses, like pain, until now. It feels as though you've been whittled down to your very core, incredibly sore and yet, entirely sated. Knowing it is Viktor's doing makes your stomach flutter; residual arousal thrumming weakly.

"We need to dispose of the remaining Calor, or otherwise risk a repeat—" You put a stop to his words with your hands on his face, coaxing him to look at you as he stands inert between your legs.

"Viktor, look at me." You breathe, inhale, steel yourself, "did you mean it?"

His attention flits between your eyes, like he's searching for something; perhaps the very same thing you are. A modicum of uncertainty, a wisp of regret, something to tell him what you suspect he's believed all this time: that he isn't what you want, that he can't be what you want.

"...that I need you? That I have thought of you—your brilliance and your beauty—every night since first meeting you?" His voice is quiet, but intense. "Absolutely."

Your heart is fluttering around in the cage of your ribs, uncontrollable.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You whisper, sweeping your thumb across the beauty mark below his eye.

Viktor sighs, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist as he closes his eyes. His brows twitch, as though he is contrite, and then his lids flutter open. There is a sureness there that has you feeling anxious; worried.

"I could not burden you with something as...trivial as my desire. I am not what you need. I am..." his gaze flits to your automation, bleeding and broken on the table, "not right, for you."

There's an air of sadness in his tone. It doesn't sit right with you; Viktor, always so determined. Viktor, never backing down from a challenge. Viktor, refusing to let his physical limitations stop him from achieving what he wants.

"I meant it." You say, not daring to look anywhere but the depths of his eyes, "I love you, Viktor. Nothing is going to change that."

You hope that your truth is conveyed through every facet of your being; that he feels your sincerity in a synapse more powerful than any drug could ever create.

"Everything about you. Your mind, your body—everything. I...I think I always have. I just...showed it the only way I knew how." Your gaze softens, committing Viktor's rapt expression to memory. "But, one of the things I love most about you, Viktor, is your unshakeable determination. I have never met anyone as ambitious as you...and I have never known you to give up."

His grasp tightens marginally around your wrist; you dare to lean in, sharing the charged air between you, watching the way his eyes flit to your mouth.

"So...are you going to give up?"

"You—always pushing me, challenging me," he quickly breathes, closing the distance in a blink to kiss you hard enough your teeth knock together; perfectly imperfect.

You smile against him when he echoes your words from earlier.

Confident, sure, determined.

"I love you, too."