#anyways so excited for whatever the last trial will be. this is the section of the map I have the least uncovered so I'm sure it'll be a

[dabidagoose]

Love the chicory wielder trials. We got the fun island one where you get to paint your self portrait at the end. Then there's the cool mountain one where you get to sing a nice song at the end of it. Then you go to a canyon where you unpack the abusive relationship your mentor had with the previous wielder, and you finally have to see that wielder spiral into a mixture of guilt and anger as she realizes what her mentee has become. All nice and fun!

#SUCH a tone change on number three there. it is of course good and fitting and I'm loving every second of this. it is also kind of a #wild shift #anyways so excited for whatever the last trial will be. this is the section of the map I have the least uncovered so I'm sure it'll be a #fun journey getting there #there's some other stuff i might do first before heading into endgame territory tho. still got tons of art classes to do and some missing #map sections in the upper left that have been driving me insane. we'll see if i can find them #and maybe also I'll scour the land for gifts and kittens and trash #chicory

[sugar-petals]

boyfriend bot (m)

↳ Not made of flesh nor blood. But made to treat you right. 

↳ PAIRING ⇁ baekyhun x reader

↳ STATS ⇁ one shot | sci-fi + domestic au

↳ WORDS ⇁ 29k

↳ WARNINGS ⇁ slow burn, the yearning™, eventual smut, light angst, making out, fingering, blowjobs, vaginal penetration, baekhyun can expand his dick what about it, cock warming, messy sex, artificial semen, giving orders + name-calling (bbh receiving), cum play, throatpies, wet panties all the way, masturbation, switching & dom!reader undertones but more vanilla > kink, french kissing, baek is a gentleman, cuddles

↳ ♡ Caro’s Note ✏︎ mmh i love seeing reader get her life turned upside down. features ten chapters. please indulge. ✍️

Chapter 1: The Capsule

God, the sting is back. Your left foot starts hurting like absolute hell. Out of all possible moments and places.

The vaguely polite smile on your face drops to a stifled expression, but Mr. Kim — on top of being just as oblivious as you expected a man of his job to be — is too preoccupied to notice.

„Our faculty is quite large,“ he says, gazing over the diagrams on his tablet pc. „We require a lot of spare room to test the robots.“

You exhale. Trying to focus on the diagrams, whatever they might mean. It’s mostly obscure, floating animations in green and yellow. Actually — very much unlike the faculty itself which is white, stark, and sterile. And yes. Too large for its own fucking good.

Just keep on walking, you tell yourself, you’ll be there soon. You’ll see Baekhyun in just a minute, okay.

Besides Mr. Kim, whoever works here has got to be a raging part-time athlete. Crossing all the plain white corridors feels like jogging right through a football field.

If you walk down any more of those, you’ll actually be out of breath. On top of limping like a stork in a puddle of half-dry mud. All accompanied by the squeaking of Mr. Kim’s obnoxious white crocs that seem to mock you with every step.

You spend too much time inside.

But who these days trains for a marathon like this.

Another deep exhale. Focus, focus, focus. You try to keep the conversation smooth.

„That’s reasonable. How long does it take to run such a test?“

„Really depends on the model,“ Mr. Kim hums, now diverting his eyes from his device to meet yours. „Prototypes take three, even four years to manufacture, trial, and refine. It is rocket science.“

Your foot is kind enough not to send another spike of pain through your legs so your face looks neutral at best.

„Four years. Quite a long time.“

Around just as long as you’ve been the single pringle of the neighborhood if you count up the months. Now that’s funny. You still feel pathetic showing up here, either way.

But since you already paid and walked what feels like three miles, there’s no going back.

Mr. Kim stuffs the tablet into his pocket now, then interlaces his fingers, making him reminiscent of some kind of ancient Roman oratory figure with his long white lab coat on.

„It is. The models that you can customize do several test runs over the course of two weeks, on the other hand.“

„Wow, that’s actually pretty fast, then.“

You’re genuinely surprised. That the faculty is professional to a fault, however, isn’t shocking. The reviews of their products are nothing but positive. Five stars are plastered all over the edgy customer feedback section on the company website. Accordingly, your purchase is worth more than five saved monthly salaries which torments you more than your damn foot.

Mr. Kim cocks his head a little.

„Technically, yes,“ he says. „However, every custom bot has once been a prototype. All the important safety tests have been conducted.“

You raise your brows. If you did the math correctly, it’s 3 to 4 years development stage plus two weeks of customizing and tests. That makes sense.

You’re surprised your brain can register as much. Now that it’s been ten minutes of walking or even a bit longer, who knows the time works differently in this bitch of a building, the corridor is giving your Achilles’ heel a hard time again with another endlessly long passage.

Doors upon doors, one more mysteriously labeled than the other, pop up right and left. ‚CASTS AND SCULPTURE‘ says one entrance. ‚LINGUISTIC DEVELOPMENT‘ another. From another corner, a whirring noise keeps on disrupting the silence of the hallway.  

What else can you do but try to slow down the pace without it being too discernable. It’ll pass in no time, you tell yourself, don’t be a bother. You won’t have some breakdown in here and ask for a glass of water or whatever. It’s already embarrassing enough to do all of this.

If you act up, they might consider you unsuitable to take the bot home. There are no opportunities to sit down anyway. Mr. Kim is far too awkward to talk about anything else but technical details. They probably don’t even have cardboard cups and mineral water in here, at least not in the radius of the sensitive equipments.

It really is a rocket science place.

Figures, this is a place for robots, not humans. The receptionist of the faculty himself had been a bot already. Sleek, poised, and polite. Interestingly, with a slight resemblance to Mr. Kim.

You chew on your bottom lip to distract yourself, walk on. Trying to come up with questions seems to be the best way to distract yourself at this point.

„Do… you also quiz the robots for conversation like that?“

It sounds like an outlandish thing to say to such a high-ranking scientist, but with the pain in your leg, it’s all too easy to forget about tone. The corridor becomes longer with every step and the neon lights above don’t help. Maybe you only hallucinate all of this. Mr. Kim sounds as factual and courteous as ever.

„Of course. We simulate every possible life situation you can think of. He can play sports with you, talk about modern art, cook Spaghetti, iron clothes, send you a text message, point out star constellations.“

„Really?“

Your heart beats even faster than it already does. Not that you’d ever need your robot to do push-ups or teach you cross-training. But Mr. Kim very much sounds like he’s confident the android will keep all its lofty claims. It’s a promise that raises your mood a lot more than you thought. All the details on the website you’ve read about three times already, but hearing them confirmed is still exciting.

„Even if a client customizes a model,“ he pulls out the device from his pocket again, then points to several other red graphs on the tablet. „The base programming allows for a variety of actions already.“

None of the data he shows you instantly rings a bell. It looks far too advanced. But it’s a no-brainer to you, someone like Mr. Kim lives in a bubble of bot speak.

As far as you understand it, what he means is that all robots have long been ‚finished‘. Customizing only adds a few features. A final, very personalized touch.

„Um— And my bot is able to learn, right?“

„That is one of the most important features,“ Mr. Kim fiercely nods his head. So that struck a chord. „Baekhyun is a leisure model, but you’ll notice that he asks a lot of questions.“

„What type of questions?“

„Well… Think of it as if a child with a rational mind gets to know the world. Very rapidly rather than naively. And, he constantly updates what your preferences are.“

„Right.“

The prospect of finally meeting him lets the pain in your leg fade off at least a little.

Baekhyun.

Only eight letters in an online form until this very moment. But soon, someone very real before your eyes. It’s an overwhelming thought, but your impatience is stronger than that. Now you really want to see him.

The corridor, thankfully, ends in a few feet anyways. Your knees are getting wobbly by the minute.

„Is he able to reach conclusions on his own?“ you ask, hands stuffed into the side pockets of your black jeans. Your pulse is still increasing. Mr. Kim’s friendly face becomes even friendlier with the smile that now stretches wide across.

„Conclusions— I would describe him as logical, but with a strong ethical twist. He’s a leisure model, after all.“

That sounds like a fancy way of saying ‚yes‘. Or, in a way, a hook to assure a new client that it was money well spent and not wasted on some hoax.

It’s not like you don’t trust the countless ‚I got a leisure bot and this is how we live’ client videos you saw online.

Even the most amateur vloggers seemed to be wildly in love with their models. Kissing and hugging them all over the place, playing games together and whatnot.

„You know, I had the honor of overseeing his tests last week,“ Mr. Kim continues. „Baekhyun’s sense of wit is so astounding, even our chief robotics officer was surprised. And he works in the department since 1995. That’s almost 40 years of experience here.“

You have to smile to yourself now, too. In the ‚select personality’ section on the customization website, your particular wish was to make Baekhyun sharp. Maybe this could turn out as interesting as you pictured it would be.

„We took a little longer with it. But I believe Baekhyun is among one of the best customizations this month,“ Mr. Kim now stops and draws out a key card. „Especially— in terms of how you helped us design his looks and theme. Most client requests we get want some kind of he-man. They only spend twenty minutes customizing their bot on the website, if not less.“

Mr. Kim pulls a frustrated face recalling that. In the meantime, you try to keep your legs straight as good as possible. It’s probably been a few years since you’ve been legitimately nervous like that and it catches you off guard. This is like a final exam. After a brief attempt to fix your hair, you shove your hands into your pockets a little deeper.

„Hm, I see?“

It must have been getting vastly boring in the lab judging by how he talks himself into a frenzy about the project. Although well, if he wouldn’t, you’d be a little worried. This is the type of job where you have to geek out. Mr. Kim seems to be the right kind of guy in his profession, you can’t deny that.

You take a deep breath now — hoping they didn’t go too far with their experiments once they got the rare opportunity to do so.

Mr. Kim pushes his brunette hair back. You can tell he’s getting a little tense himself. He disables the tablet PC using a sleek button on its side and clamps the device under his left armpit.

„You spent almost four hours selecting all the extended details,“ he says. „That helps us a lot. Baekhyun quickly developed into our favorite project to work on. He’s a very self-aware and attentive android.“

You nod, absent-minded already. What matters is that you finally reached the end of the fucking corridor. And just how high your level of adrenaline has been rising. It feels like a gyro drop at full throttle.

You murmur a small thank you and watch Mr. Kim swipe his card through the chunky white, bleeping doorknob. A green light appears from above the door and it scoots open.

„Over there,“ he brings his left hand forward, ushering you inside.

In the middle of the dome-like room before you is a platform sporting an adjustable mechanical frame. Chrome, light aluminum, something of that kind. A terribly odd construction, but almost mundane for a faculty of this caliber. Everything smells painstakingly sterile.

There are similar set-ups you’ve seen in the hospital you got your appendix removed in last spring. Whether that’s a good sign or not you can’t tell over the buzzing inside of your head. This shit has you way too clamped up in the stomach.

You try to focus on observing as good as you can. Back to the here and now.

The frame holds a shiny grey capsule reminiscent of a cocoon. Mr. Kim steps forth toward the pod and swipes across its surface with a gentle right hand. That triggers a series of mechanisms at the back of the capsule, causing it to gain opacity.

Within seconds, a quirky silhouette with elegant limbs appears inside the cocoon. Your hands tremble even more. This is the moment you downed three large fucking cups of coffee for this morning after two winding hours of sleep.

„There he is,“ Mr. Kim announces, audibly proud.

Once the capsule is fully transparent, it is turned upright by the frame shifting about— and dissolves. The cocoon is gone.

The man that now stands before you slowly comes to life as if waking up from a fifty-year-long slumber.

Chapter 2: Enamel

What you first notice is his hair: Whiter than pearls, almost platinum. It’s long enough so see a slight bend in it. Whether it is actual hair or some kind of artificial fiber seems quite impossible to tell. It’s all matte, gently moving. Underneath its softly parted bangs open—

Baekhyun’s eyes. You can’t help but get tunnel vision and an awkwardly stiff posture. Even if they still look sleepy, there is so much movement in them already. They are perfectly droopy and teddy-like, turning toward you with a shapely, slightly long button nose in between. Either iris is deep and dark to the point of no pupil being immediately recognizable. There is something very intentional in his gaze that makes you hold your breath.

At a second glance, it appears as if a thin layer of beige eyeshadow was smudged right around both lash lines, drawing even more attention to the little gleam in the eyes themselves. All around the lab, the faculty’s scientists have placed huge round neon light spheres as lamps, one emitting a light more uncomfortable than the other. But in Baekhyun’s eyes, they appear like distant planets.

Seconds pass. You stare. Then, a voice light and airy knocks you out of your frozen state.

„I am very glad to be with you now,“ Baekhyun’s lips begin to move. You audibly breathe in even harder.

They are small, rosy, angular at the cupid’s bow— revealing a subtle smile with beaming teeth and red gums above. And even though they are bright, none of his teeth appear remotely the same, even, nor too symmetrical.

Imperfect like nature, they look just like yours or anyone else’s. You wouldn’t have guessed, not in a million years, that they are made of ‚steadfast, durable acrylic‘ as it said on the website. His smile looks— so real.

„Very nice to meet you, Baekhyun,“ is the only thing you manage to blurt out, extending your hand. Your brain is running on emergency autopilot.

In this moment, it feels like you are more robotic than the robot before you.

The gentle squeeze of Baekhyun’s gently forthcoming hand feels warming. Where you expected cold metal, a smooth heat spreads in your palm. Besides a small whirring sound that seems to emanate from his shoulder joints and wrist, the way he shakes your hand is fluid, malleable to how your own arm angles towards him. Almost — intuitive?

„I’m sorry if I smell like oil and metal. That will fade,“ chirps Baekhyun, lighthearted and boyish, letting go of your hand. It took you a solid eight seconds to initiate a withdrawal. The shame of feeling so desperate drives a pulsing heat into your face. Guinness world record for longest human-android handshake here we come.

Mr. Kim can’t help but laugh behind you, then ends up mumbling into his non-existent beard.

„Exceptional… truly exceptional. Our language specialists have outdone themselves. Even the voice modulation.“

Whatever that exactly means, you nod along anyway. And you almost thought Mr. Kim was laughing at you.

You rebuke yourself for getting way too defensive. It’s not that your synapses would bother dealing with complicated information like this right now to begin with.

„His voice is— It’s just how I pictured it. It’s so beautiful.“

It doesn’t sound recorded or like some random car navigation system’s speaker at all. It’s almost as if he was being perfectly synchronized by somebody standing right behind him. Only a minimal distortion at the end of his sentences gives away how his words are being generated, processed, pieced together. Other than that, his light and animated tone sounds authentic to a surprising extreme. For some reason, it’s almost as if he’s singing. He speaks surprisingly fast, too.

„You have to compliment yourself,“ Baekhyun steps forward a little, and the capsule frame behind him removes itself from the room’s center platform with a zooming noise. „My voice is designed after your imagination.“

„That’s, that’s nothing. Mr. Kim did all of the important work,“ you negate, way, way too fast, and you bite your lip for almost interrupting him.

„Baekhyun is correct,“ Mr. Kim retorts, now appearing on your left with a clipboard in his hand. He must have fetched it while you were busy being a marble statue. „He’s proof of what fantasy can achieve.“

He smiles, then begins to tick boxes on the board, using a shiny, bold black pen from his lab coat’s chest pocket. Baekhyun smiles a marvelous smile right along.

He is truly hypnotizing to your eye. The more you can take in his entirety, the more overwhelming it is, and there’s no way you can get enough of it.

His skin in particular catches your attention. It is embued with a light bronze sheen. His neck, his arms, his face: All different ways of sunkissed, but still appearing as a consistent whole.

Upon a closer look, you even see a few moles and the finest hairs— on his underarms, the chin, the linings of the cheeks. The steep jaw, too. You remember a detail on the website saying that he can actually get goosebumps, so going by that the little golden fuzz is able to move.

You’ve never seen skin like that in your whole life, and yet, it feels natural. The evenness is not the same anywhere. In some spots, there are subtle blue streaks and elongated bumps, as if there were veins. His neck and hands sport the most prominent bits. Around his wrist and elbow area, you can clearly see bone structure denting through. It’s like real skin on a skeleton. His collar bones are acutely visible, as are his knuckles and cheekbones.

„Baekhyun’s haptics are perfected to a single pore,“ a scribbling Mr. Kim picks up on your lasting, travelling gaze. „Elastic, but sturdy, and still extremely soft. You can touch him like any other person. The skin mimics the same properties except that it hardly ages. It is also heated to body temperature.“

Now you know where your money went into. And why Baekhyun’s hands felt so astoundingly real. You wonder how it would feel if he would—

„Quite alright,“ you gawk, chasing away a gazillion of incoming thoughts. All while feeling what seems like an entire waterfall of sweat trickle down your lower spine. You grant yourself the annual award for the most inept conversationalist nation-wide. „Does that need any maintenance?“

„Principally… he is a self-maintaining system,“ Mr. Kim finishes up with his paperwork. „Even small damages he can repair without you having to bring him here. He can log into our databank and get updates if necessary, though that rarely occurs with leisure models. All very discreetly, of course. The, well, the only thing Baekhyun needs from you is regular interaction. As I said: Learning is vital to him. Absolutely vital. You can talk to him like with anybody else.“

„That I can uh provide! I mean sure!“

You exhale. Slacken. Try to keep your feet parallel to each other. If interaction is the only thing needed to keep Baekhyun on his toes, your toolbox can gladly stay in the basement. Lord knows you’d be a lackluster bot mechanic. Casts, sculpture, linguistics and whatnot, on top of any screws to tighten.

„It’s a pleasure,“ a very smoldering Baekhyun straightens his body, and along with it his crisp white outfit. Which you… already like a lot.

It’s tailored rather snugly to his slim frame. You believe it’s got to be synthetics he’s wearing, a thick kind of fabric. As if you didn’t sweat already, the top is sleeveless. Even if he appears quite slender, Baekhyun’s upper arms are nevertheless muscular. The way he straightened up only emphasizes how toned he is.

„And I’m sorry I made you nervous,“ Baekhyun continues, softy gazing over your face. „Seeing someone with enamel eyes is not the most common thing.“

Now your posture becomes equally as upright. The marble statue is back.

„Enamel?“

As if you forgot whatever the hell language is. Mr. Kim must think you’re a complete fool. And Baekhyun, anyways. You already realize how well he can read situations. And— well, your very face. It’s been one of your top requirements in the customization form, after all. It comes back to bite you.

„We normally use plain glass. For the ocular apparatus, I mean,“ Mr. Kim puts away his clipboard, seemingly content. „But since Baekhyun’s eyes are so dark, engineer Park suggested a coat of enamel to emphasize shine. It adds to the visual. Otherwise, his eyes would swallow all light if you will.“

That’s why the lamp reflections are the way they are in Baekhyun’s eyes. It really is a kind of shiny effect. Not even Tulo, the new palm-sized puppy of your friend Hwasa, has such a vivid expression.

In a following moment of sobriety, you let Mr. Kim’s words repeat in your head. Ocular apparatus. It feels so weird to talk about Baekhyun’s face this way. But it helps to remind you once again. He is man-made. For you. Convincingly well.

„Do you like it?“ Baekhyun promptly asks. „It is the department’s goal to make them look as real as possible.“

„I… I can’t complain. It’s incredible. Really incredible.“

If not absolutely staggering. Your whole body feels tingly.

Baekhyun shifts close to you by the millimeter the more you gape right at him. In the meantime, Mr. Kim stuffs his pen back into the lab coat with an understanding hum.

You have no idea what Baekhyun will do now.

Chapter 3: He Treats You So Right

„So, you agree to matching up with client 2B6?“ Mr. Kim asks Baekhyun.

„I do, sir,“ comes a faithful answer right away. Baekhyun’s cheeks become fuller in a beaming smile.

„Are you satisfied with the result and would like to take Baekhyun home?“ Mr. Kim now turns to you.

„Y—yes, I… I want to.“

You don’t even dare to blink. It feels like you’ve grown roots to the ground.

Is this a marriage ceremony? Is the kiss next? Are you supposed to strip on the spot to seal the deal?

But Mr. Kim is stoic.

„I see you are ready to go then. Baekhyun can explain most of his features by himself, anyways. Better than me, even.“

In fact, he sounds more hurried and neutral now. There’s work waiting for him, you can tell. And he sure as hell had his fair share of impatient clients.

You clench up hoping that you looking at Baekhyun like that isn’t that kind of—

Neediness?

You wish you could deny it. But you’ve made the purchase, you limped all the way here. It’s already obvious, it has to be. There’s no way they don’t pick up on it. It’s what drives Mr. Kim’s business almost endlessly, anyways. In this very moment, ten, maybe twenty, even thirty other bots are presented to clients in rooms scattered all over the faculty.

You have to pull yourself together. It’s not like you’re the only one. You center back to Mr. Kim.

„He can?“

„Yes. Any autonomous bot should be able to explain themselves, it’s what I believe in.“

Now that sounded like conviction indeed.

But you wonder why Mr. Kim still bothered going on tangents, then. But yet again, whatever was on the clipboard was a test run he had to monitor or something like that.

The way he asked Baekhyun if he wanted to match up with you must have been part of that. Baekhyun had agreed so fast and warmly, in such a genuine way of speaking.

Even now, his eyes look so inviting and full of reassurance. Without a single word.

Maybe he likes you. If he can feel something like that.

Or thinks of you as a… rational option. Why would Mr. Kim ask about ‚allowance‘ — or whatever it was — in such a manner, anyways? Wouldn’t it mean that Baekhyun did have a sense of affection? Trust, even? Maybe it was just a formality. A contract, or you were just reading too much into it. But it already stuck with you.

Mr. Kim monotonously continues. Maybe he notices how preoccupied you are. Or, after all, it’s a sentence he must’ve said a thousand times.

„If any other question arises, you know how to contact us.“

„Okay, great. I, I don’t know how to thank you.“

„Your contentment, that is the biggest reward,“ Baekhyun finally enters the conversation again. With a very, very big smile.

His eyes unequivocally ask for permission to touch you, and you grant it nodding. Whatever he wants to do— if Baekhyun is trusting towards you, now it’s your turn.

Baekhyun softly places his left hand on your upper arm, pointing toward the longer end of the lab room with the other.

„We’ll take the elevator over there. You can relax your foot a little. I hope we haven’t caused an inconvenience to you. We’re taking it slow on our way.“

Mr. Kim looks just as taken aback as you, if not more.

„Her foot?“

Baekhyun gazes back at the two of you as if you just asked him whether water is wet.

„It’s blatantly obvious by the way she stands, Mr. Kim. Recovering strained Achilles heel.“

The air is laden with gasoline, the cement blocks all around sleek and cold. Slowly approaching your silver little car in the cramped underground garage’s second story, Baekhyun first seems to scan the vehicle, then turns his head to you – seamlessly. You already anticipate him commenting on whatever scratch or rusty spot first caught his eye.

But instead, he looks courteous as ever.

„I can act as your chauffeur if you desire. Today’s traffic is very busy. I’m a smooth operator.“

You can’t help but laugh a little and picture Mr. Kim feeding a Sade playlist into Baekhyun’s system. Or who knows, any robot likely has instant access to Youtube with their hypermodern internet minds.

„Sounds convenient.“

You head towards the passenger seat after passing him the keys, with Baekhyun aptly entering the car from the other side. How his knees bend, how he slides right onto the seat. With such an oddly fluid way of doing it. It doesn’t escape your glance how easily he settles down and fastens his belt right away.

The scientists have really tested for everything.

Robots are legally permitted to drive since only five years and few are advanced enough to do so.

His side profile looks smooth from where you sit. The chin pointed and sharp, the nose straight, slightly long, and dainty. Baekhyun grips the steering wheel quite expertly with his left hand. He turns the key with the other.

„Your convenience is the most important to me. And I like driving vehicles,“ the engine starts. „It’s birds of a feather.“

You fasten your own seat belt, but rather as a reflex than by deliberation. You really have to stop yourself from consistently looking at him with what must be the most puzzled you’ve been yet.

„Oh, you mean, you get on well with other machines?“

„Your car has similar gears to mine, I can’t help it. Family.“

The engine revs up a bit, then quickly develops into a sonorous purr. Whenever you drive — your car strangely never sounds like that. On your way to the faculty, the engine rather resembled a gone-wild Spanish bull stomping and grunting around in heat.

Now that you think about it — Baekhyun spent over three years in the faculty complex. Who knows with what kinds of other machines he has communicated with. Comparing yourself is arguably unfair.

„Maybe grease is thicker than water,“ you say, cramped up fingers intertwining. You don’t know where your wit has been until now. At least you can try.

Baekhyun looks quite amused, actually.

„And yet, water runs much deeper,“ he says, turning the wheel.

The car already exits the garage’s wide neon-lined gate. Baekhyun enables the A/C with swift fingers. They’re strikingly pretty. Thin, long, and elven-like. His nails are perfectly almond-shaped and look peachy.

Once more— you have to snap yourself out of another way too detailed thought. The way he touched your arm left an impression.

You feverishly search for a conversation topic, all while trying to let your eyes wander around the street.

„Is there something like… bots missing the faculty?“ you ask, swiping a few strands of hair off your right cheek. The A/C is messing with your hair a little. Baekhyun has turned it up enough for you to feel sufficiently cooled down, however. „I mean, after such a long time there.“

„By the way you customized me, I already know your home is much cozier.“

You’re trying to catch up with what he said for a solid five seconds. By the time you understand, it dawns on you how ‚he is logical‘ very much extends to some kind of predictive conclusions. That hold to be… very true.

„Ah— I, I guess? So you didn’t like it there?“

„I was built for you, that’s where I belong,“ Baekhyun says, surprisingly firm in tone. „Mr. Kim said he’s not surprised I grew bored of the environment but couldn’t figure out how to find something to do.“

„Oh… I can imagine, the faculty very much looks that way.“

You’re perplexed — because Baekhyun shakes his head.

„It’s not the place,“ he says, and you can hear his voice becoming more serious. „It was you who was missing. That I felt that way was a natural thing. I apologize if this is too early to say so frankly.“

The car takes a suave right turn, entering the bustling main street. Cabs everywhere. Confusing flashes from traffic lights and tall glass windows at every corner. Alongside many of Brooklyn’s most crisp-looking skyscrapers, a few giant advertisement boards pass by. Two of them display the familiar, ever-looming logo.

>>> AndroTech Leisure Bots Inc <<<

  Moscow | New York | Seoul

Beneath it, a corresponding slogan in red print.

He treats you so right.

You try to gather your words. But they spill, and you can’t really look at him.

„No— I mean. It’s important we’re… you know, compatible. Isn’t that, that’s the entire deal behind all of this? That we like each other. It would be silly to do anything else. Especially when this is all so… deliberately done. You don’t have to say sorry, Baekhyun.“

Your friends would probably cringe at you saying this out loud. The majority of them think you’re an oddball spending not just the money, but so many days being nervous about meeting ‚some robot’.

Busy forever customizing ‚just a piece of talking plastic and metal’. Even Hwasa was skeptical. Hyuna said it’s kind of weird to buy someone, something like that as she emphasized. But with Baekhyun next to you, the words just come out.

It feels like you’re talking to— a person.

„Thank you. I haven’t heard any other client talk about a product like that. Nobody is obliged to do this.“

„That’s sad. And I don’t think you’re just a product.“

„You really bothered a lot with me. I promise to show my gratitude.“

Baekhyun lends you an arm to limp down the small garden pathway without putting too much weight on your foot. The door to your ugly duckling of a yellow row house has always been notoriously moody, but today, it creaks particularly loud.

Baekhyun begins to inspect it, briefly caressing your back along the way even if he seems quite preoccupied with the problem. You can hardly think straight and get lost in the touch —

Until it happens.

Your grumpy old neighbor, Mr. Lee from the opposing lawn, is not fully seen behind the large bush that separates his terrace from yours, but almost definitely heard with a loud huff of disapproval.

„Eh!“

He’s observed you arrive. Or rather, heard. Probably sitting in his rusty beach chair, smoking, wearing one of his old pastel golf shirts. You can practically feel the scorch of his falcon eyes burning a hole into Baekhyun’s chest at a distance of several dozen feet.

Chapter 4: Pink Clouds

Right through like a laser cannon. It’s not like it’s particularly cold, not in this area anyways, it’s a warm spring this year. But you do shiver for a second.

„Goes on my list to fix right after the scratch on the hood,“ Baekhyun remarks in the meantime, giving the hinges a quick glance before quickly closing the door.

Mr. Lee he doesn’t even notice.

You decide to play it cool and not rub it into Baekhyun’s face. He didn’t even turn his head after Lee’s single-word, but very telling hmph tirade.

Maybe it would weigh too heavy on his mind to get an odd glance by someone else right away at his new home. Or maybe you’re projecting. But you never know how he’d take it. He has to feel welcomed by you in the first place, you think, not some bigoted grandpa who knows nothing. Mr. Lee is such a boomer.

You’re glad Baekhyun is unfazed. And, maybe even oblivious?

„I quite like the door like this, actually,“ you say.

You let your hands graze over the old door patina, then lay down your house keys on the nearby window sill. Next Monday, you’ll visit the keysmith to create a duplicate. Everything about arriving together in your home feels unusual. Surreal, almost.

„Removed fixing the door from list,“ Baekhyun nods, taking his white shoes off. „Perfection is perspective.“

You imagine him actually keeping a painstaking file on this. Somewhere on a mile-long server at AndroTech. Now you know why the faculty is so large.

„It probably sounds charming when someone comes home to the other. I mean, when it creaks. I have to get used to that.“

You feel the embarrassment on your face saying that.

You try to see the rational point to distract from your blush. Getting a heart attack from him suddenly standing in your room sounds like something to squarely avoid. Just a day ago, you would have interpreted a second pair of footsteps on this very entrance floor as a very upfront burglar.

„That is a very good reason not to repair it.“

Baekhyun smiles, doing a 360° to marvel at the entrance area in its entirety. As if it wasn’t a terribly small room at all. There isn’t much to see except a pot plant and a copy of Andy Warhol’s Marilyn Monroe print series, but he still makes big eyes regardless. Maybe this is heaven’s gate to someone who had to look at the faculty lights and way-too-large rooms for so long.

You should probably upload a video of this entire moment on your social media, but gripping the phone in your pocket feels odd. There’s no time to think about it twice anyways because Baekhyun comes to pick you up bridal style. That your heart skips more than a beat is in plain view, it has you gasping out.

„No more walking needed today. It’s leisure time!“

He lifts you far above his hip level with ease. Now you know why you wanted his arms to be big and strong. „Alright like this?“

„Wow, okay—!“

His voice is almost like a jingle, but the following squeal is strangely and completely him when he prances down the center hallway of your home. Being carried within your own four walls has knocked you off your feet indeed.

„Let me get you a blanket,“ Baekhyun props you down on your tiny mint green 80s style sofa just two minutes later. In the meantime, he has promised to make you pancakes for dinner. „You were shivering when we arrived.“

The sun has set, leaving the roof window dark above you. Instead, you’ve switched on the little blue, red, white and green lantern fairy lights dangling off the ceiling. Slipping under the sheets together is strange and oddly comforting at once. To have someone else lifting the duvet up at the same time as you. To come together underneath it.

It’s as Mr. Kim said. He is warm. And there’s a heartbeat, faint but constant, locked in his chest. You can hear it quite clearly once you opt for shifting closer to him. Whether you should be perplexed of amazed you’re unsure of. For his part, Baekhyun seems to bother getting cozy more than once by wiggling around. He finds the right position facing you laying on his side.

„You have a nice bed,“ he says, peeking at you. „Do you want to cuddle?“

He looks cute like that.

And why not.

His hair looks even more touchable in the soft light of the tiny lamps.

„Sure,“ you say, but it doesn’t sound like the most natural thing in the world. Your racing heart makes your voice more fragile than you want it to be.

„Like this? Is it alright for your foot?“

Both of you scoot together. You bury your head at his chest.

„Don’t take care of me too much, Baekhyun,“ you murmur into the fabric of his top. You can get used to having your face buried there. He doesn’t smell like grease at all. „My foot is okay as long as I don’t go berserk.“

Today’s sprint through the faculty had been the most Olympic thing you did in twelve months time, but that’s about it.

„Oh! I am sorry. Mr. Kim programmed me to anticipate and be of service as much as I can. Sometimes I go overboard.“

„I can deal with that,“ you nuzzle yourself into his chest even more. „Mr. Kim also made you a quick learner.“

„Yes, feedback is very important.“

„Mh, yeah.“

„I wanted to ask something related, actually.“

„Go ahead.“

You can’t help but clench your legs together. Bite your lip.

„You were clearly distressed when we arrived,“ his voice becomes serious. „I wasn’t sure whether it was because of me or something else.“

You feel your chest tighten.

Oh.

„Something else. It was something else. It’s not you, Baekhyun.“

„I figured. You were trying to distract from something so I wouldn’t be concerned.“

„It’s hard to hide bullshit from you,“ resurfaces your voice from his chest when you draw your head back from it.

„A bot doesn’t bother with issues, he solves them.“

He sounds confident.

„I don’t know if you can deal with this case.“

„You won’t know. You haven’t told me, after all.“

You sigh.

„It’s… someone who doesn’t like bots very much.“

„Who is it? Is there someone bothering you because of me?“

„Mister Lee. He lives next to us.“

„I see. What happened with him?“

Baekhyun’s response actually sounds far more composed than you thought. His tone is quite soothing.

„He was giving us strange looks when we arrived. Not the meh kind. The aggressive kind. You should stay away from him.“

Lord knows Mr. Kim did not build you some kind of war machine to fend off a raging boomer armed with a hark, golf club, and probably a bucket of water to shortcut Baekhyun.

„It must be a bad experience with another model. That’s what usually happened in such a case. He doesn’t know me personally, after all.“

„Maybe. It is not your fault, either way.“

„There are many people who are afraid of androids for many reasons,“ Baekhyun shrugs. „Jealousy, conspiracies, feelings of not being enough. Some of them even become clients and mistreat their bots, Mr. Kim has told me about a few cases.“

You’re taken aback.

„Why would they?“

„It’s the ultimate control or revenge experience. It’s a legal grey area.“

A silence follows. You don’t want to imagine these things but can’t help but do.

„Then I’m surprised Mr. Lee doesn’t own a bot himself. His… hatred is very strong for your kind.“

„I’ll research in our data banks about this. Maybe he had.“

„You think something went wrong?“

„It can happen.“

„Just… don’t get yourself involved with him up close. He’s creepy. Even if you know about cases like this.“

Baekhyun cocks his head into a smile.

„You’re protective of me. I appreciate that.“

And yet again— He caught you. Whether there is anything Baekhyun doesn’t see right through is reduced to a rhetorical question at this point. Sugarcoating wasn’t relevant on your website form in the first place.

„I’m… sure you look out for yourself. Just didn’t want you to feel unwanted the second we arrive.“

You avoid his eyes. Again.

„It wasn’t necessary, but that makes me feel even more welcome, you know,“ Baekhyun faithfully invites you to snuggle back up against him by leaning forward. „Few owners shield their products from harm. Other than for reasons of us being expensive investments.“

„I dunno. Aren’t most bots sentient?“

„To a degree. They’re built to resemble humans as much as possible.“

„Then— I think, emotional harm is just as shitty as some gears getting torn off or something. If there is consciousness in you. You think for yourselves after all.“

You state it with conviction. Mr. Lee doesn’t seem to realize anything of that.

„I do perceive it. But my brain makes it so that I draw neutral conclusions often. Maybe it’s because my purpose is to be of convenience. No owner needs a dwelling Shakespeare robot defunct in a day-long crisis because he self-indulges. Although I am able to recite all his plays.“

Neutral conclusions. You don’t think you fully understood that yet. Was it— Just like how Baekhyun reacted to Mr. Lee’s taunting? He wasn’t enraged nor happy. He didn’t register it at all.

„Is that… why bots stay with abusive owners?“

You try to utter this carefully, and most of it gladly turns out muffled. Still, Baekhyun acutely understands. You can tell by just how fast he answers.

„The bot will rebuild or reprogram oneself in case of damage. But walking back to Mr. Kim a model would never do. Feeling traumatized or targeted is foreign to us. We could be bored at most,“ Baekhyun shrugs again, and you remember how he experienced the faculty. Boredom. „But that’s only because our processors suggest we need new input and learn.“

Now it makes sense. You give a sharp nod.

„A robot doesn’t become a victim,“ Baekhyun continues. „He becomes trash in a worst-case scenario. A waste of material and innovation. And even then, he won’t feel sad. If he does look sad, it’s to accommodate the feelings of someone who feels sorry for him. And for showing an appropriate situational cue. It’s picked up solely from language we acquired, and our courtesy protocol. Not something like hormone receptors. If we are destroyed for fun by an owner, that’s the emotional baggage of nobody. Mr. Kim perhaps, but he will just build another bot. While we— well. It’s not a concern to us, naturally. We will protect ourselves only to preserve what the client purchased.“

„So… That’s where humans and androids are different.“

„It’s the last gap in science. That we really feel something below the surface. Maybe it’s a blessing, maybe it’s not. Sometimes I wish I could learn it.“

„I think you could experience a feeling like that. You’re self-aware. And Mr. Kim is probably building this whole hormone thing as we speak.“

„It’s quite a thought experiment. On the one hand, I was created to make rational decisions. On the other, I wish I had the presence to live through self-generated, volatile emotions.“

„Isn’t yearning for feeling not feeling already?“

„It is of academic interest. That I want to evolve and experience myself is a wish programmed into to me by Mr. Kim. Because it was a wish by you.“

„Right.“

On the website, you had specified to make Baekhyun self-developing.

„Maybe I will feel something one day.“

„I am convinced it could happen.“

„Until now, I can only mirror someone else’s feelings. With words and the strings that move my face to make expressions.“

„I think I know why many people are jealous of robots. They don’t have the burden of this chemical cocktail inside of them. The irony is… robots want to have that cocktail while humans want to get rid of it.“

Baekhyun picking up on your every mood and approaching you so eagerly with his observations of it is no longer a mystery. He tried to assimilate the sentiments as much as possible. To grow, evolve, whatever the objective might be called.

„The grass is always greener on the other side as they say. Maybe that’s why we do this exchange.“

„That’s like people with curly hair wanting straight hair and the other way around. Never content with that they have and valuing the opposite.“

„Are you not happy with your own cocktail yourself? You sound like you do.“

„It’s… a lot of responsibility to have this. And a hassle anyway.“

Baekhyun chuckles. It must have been an equation in his mind.

„Humans don’t like feeling something negative. It’s interesting how strong their survival instincts are. Bots don’t have this.“

„Yeah. We crave happiness.“

„I will probably never know what that is like. I was created for fulfilling someone else’s.“

To have someone made to make your survival easier. And to make you happy. It’s not something you can yet grasp. You feel obliged to be grateful.

„I wish you could feel it.“

„Your wish is my command, I have to thank you.“

„Maybe this human cocktail is good for at least something. Inspiring someone who can’t have it.“

„From an outsider’s perspective, it is quite something, actually.“

„So— It mends your ‚boredom‘ when you make us happy? And that makes you ‚happy‘?“

Baekhyun nods.

„That’s how it is. Maybe happiness for a bot translates to their brain and physical form getting fed information. We don’t feel how we enjoy this process, but we see how our system thrives when that information comes in. And that registers as a task fulfilled. Which is the best state of a robot to be in.“

„Is it that helping you learn about things makes you something… close to happy?“

That Mr. Kim stressed so much that Baekhyun needs interaction for input doesn’t seem so overstated anymore.

„Yes. But it’s not ‚about things‘.“

„Oh?“

„It’s helping me learn things about you.“

His voice is serious. Your legs feel kind of wobbly at that.

„The regular conversation thing, right.“

„It’s the only requirement from you. It might not seem like a lot, but to me, it’s important. I depend on new things coming my way.“

„Do other clients get that request to talk a lot with their bots, too?“

„Most need only a minimal amount of input. I’m one of the few leisure models who was customized with an emphasis on intellect.“

„Made you a bit of a contradiction I guess.“

„Mr. Kim said that it’s what makes me one of his favorite projects. It’s because of your ideas and that you cared to make me special. I am important to you in some way.“

The word strikes a chord.

Special.

Maybe Baekhyun is. And you bolstered yourself up by making him so to escape the lonely single pringle void. Equipping him with intricate characteristics to give him and yourself a kind of—legitimacy?

Then again, you haven’t interacted with other leisure models other than watching overedited videos of them. Each of those bots could be equally complex. Knowing of Mr. Kim’s genius that sneaks into everything a bot does, the benefit of the doubt still rules.

„Lots of learn talk, then. Anything specific to make it, I mean, quality input?“

Who knows, you think, he might want to learn foreign languages.

„There is a way of making it particularly effective,“ Baekhyun says.

„Remind me often, then. What is it?“

You anticipate some grand revelation. But Baekhyun doesn’t look like it.

„It’s when you touch me. When we, we touch each other. I was built with this in mind. Kinetic learning is what I process best.“

„Touch…—“

„If this is okay for you?“

Almost instantly— You flush. And nod.

„Your skin is unbelievable.“

„It has memory, actually. In particular places it’s very pronounced. Do you want to try it?“

„Yes.“

Baekhyun eases out of your cuddling position first, then loosens the velcro of his top, making space for his bare chest.

What you see shortens your breath.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

His eyes invite you to lay your hand between his collar bones, actually, just a little bit lower. He is entirely comfortable, even leaning forward into the touch.

Judging by how he opens his top even more, your hand has permission to trace down to his solar plexus. So warm and soft, and still: Firm, as if he worked out every day last week.

„What is meant by memory, actually?“ you can’t keep yourself from asking, even with your attention almost fully centered on how his chest arches under your fingers as if he was breathing.

And again, the heartbeat. Your fingertips delight in its strong pulse.

„The more you enjoy something, the more often I can give you the opportunity.“

„That’s how it works, then…“

„Since you like stroking my chest,“ Baekhyun looks down on your hand. „If you allow, you won’t see me with this top on lying next to you often.“

You suck in air. Wow.

„You don’t beat around the bush, Baekhyun.“

„There is no reason not to if I want to please you as much as possible.“

„I would like it. If you prefer that?“

Now, he seems surprised.

„Nobody has asked me this before.“

„Really?“

„My principle is this. If you prefer it, I do.“

„You don’t have your own preferences with these kinds of things?“

„I can come up with ideas. Things for us to try when we touch. But I won’t be partial. It’s all your part.“

„That’s a lot of responsibility for me,“ you puff out. Baekhyun shakes his head right away.

„Someone who customized every last detail of me is a very decisive person. And don’t feel burdened,“ he says. „I already know you like to take everything step by step. When I carried you, I felt it. You don’t have to worry. Just feel my heart.“

Maybe he knows you better than you do.

„Okay.“

Using his right hand, he reaches towards his chest. Baekhyun’s hand ends up cupping yours. Minutes pass. You survey his heartbeat. Sometimes, it switches pace. After almost twenty minutes pass and your lids start to flutter, Baekhyun switches off the lights and whispers goodnight.

Bright Saturday noon daylight. Bustling flocks of people. Weekend joys, lots of pocket money spent. You can smell fries, candied fruits, popcorn, and cigarette smoke all around.

„Normally, I’m a stay-at-home android,“ Baekhyun says, close beside you. „I didn’t know this could be so entertaining.“

Together with you, he watches a bearded Italian man at a stall. Expertly, the man swirls feathery light cotton candy threads back and forth with a thin stick. It smells amazing. Slowly but surely, letting thin layers of floss gather.

„I just try to go by Mr. Kim’s advice and introduce something new,“ you laugh, meanwhile handing the Italian’s assistant two coins for your candy floss.

„I never knew something like an edible pink cloud could be made.“

Baekhyun ogles the Italian as if he were a magician, prompting stifled laughter in the queue of the stall.

„I’m actually surprised,“ you pick up the wooden stick, then take your first bite. „That it’s not something you were already programmed with knowing.“

Side by side, you stroll off the stall, letting the other queuing customers step to the counter now.

„The faculty is like it’s own universe,“ Baekhyun shrugs. „The scientists don’t think about pink clouds there. I’m only a reflection of what they can imagine a prototype to be like.“

You get what he means. In such a sterile environment, you don’t think about sweets.

„Guess I’ll take you out of town more often,“ you pull apart the candy floss a little. Then, you hand Baekhyun a piece of it. You know he’s practically dying to touch it by the way his fingers twitch. Unsurprisingly, he immediately begins to poke into it.

„I like the funfair a lot,“ he nods. Meanwhile, you begin to stroll, passing other stalls every so often. „There are so many people. And this feels almost as soft as your hair.“

„Really? It surely isn’t.“

„Scientifically and physically speaking—“

„Okay, okay, I believe you.“

„I wish I could eat pink clouds myself.“

„The taste is like, well caramel, if you know what that is?“

„Caramel is a mixture of sugar, salt, cream, and butter,“ Baekhyun’s voice snaps into what you think is some kind of memory mode. „Henri Le Roux was the first chocolatier to sell it in 1980, though it is said to be an originally Arabic treat. Traditionally, it is served in small blocks that have about the same color as honey.“

„Yes exactly, and it’s really sweet.“

„What does sweet taste like?“

„Oh… I don’t even know how you could describe that. It’s kind of addictive? Very light… pleasant. Maybe, just how you believe a pink cloud tastes like.“

„If it’s pleasant, it’s a good thing,“ Baekhyun offers you the piece of floss that you gave him. „Maybe we should visit the stall again after we saw the carousel.“

„I’ll get cavities, Baek, and the portion is huge!“

„Oh— I’m sorry,“ he retreats his hand again, keeping the piece to himself. „I’ve never felt how it’s like to have a stomach.“

„You’re both lucky and not so lucky, then. You can’t eat candy but you can’t get stomach aches either.“

Baekhyun doesn’t quite look like he agrees, but keeps on gently kneading the cotton piece in his hands. Almost like a stress ball, but you can tell he gauges its characteristics.

A bot must hardly ever feel stress. Unless you do have him play tennis, or whatever else Mr. Kim would suggest Baekhyun to do for the sheer academic fun of it. But again — You remember saying that Baekhyun knows your home is cozy. Maybe he likes doing relaxed things and going out this way.

„Where humans have a stomach,“ he says, patting his belly, „I have an engine. It can be defect if I’m reckless.“

„That’s fair enough!“ you laugh, then point at the white and yellow carousel that begins to shift into sight behind the stalls. „I sure as hell won’t make you ride this one.“

„It’s so large!“

The big eyes he made at the cotton candy are nothing compared to how Baekhyun looks at the carousel.

„It always spins for ten minutes or so. You’ll see in a few seconds. I got vertigo last time I went on there with my brother. Watching is way nicer.“

„I wouldn’t recommend you get in there either, your foot isn’t fully healed yet.“

„Oh, you don’t need your feet for that.“

„Really?“

„You’re pretty much lifted in the air. Look,“ you point at the passengers finding their place. After a lanky guy has controlled all of the security belts, the seats rise, and then stars to spin around at a slow pace. Baekhyun seems like he’s just discovered the formula for beaming someone through space.

„Mr. Park told me there are things like this. And I’ve seen pictures of it. But I didn’t think it’d be like that. They’re flying!“

„M-hm.“

At this point, you are sure Baekhyun has an interest in physics. You decide to linger close to him, observing the seats fly past overhead. People cheer. Baekhyun smiles.

After a while, he turns his head to you. He sees that you’re spaced out. He turns his eyes back to the seats. It’s only after the carousel slows down that he turns to you again.

„Is there something that has preoccupied you?“

„Pardon?“

„You looked like you were wondering about something. Is it the faculty?“

You couldn’t hide the most trivial secret even if you wanted to. At least you won’t have a divorce from your robot husband at 47 because of a skeleton in the closet.

„I… was thinking about a moment before we said goodbye there,“ you say, chucking the wooden stick of the cotton candy into a nearby trash can.

„I knew you still had a question. But you didn’t want to ask in front of Mr. Kim, right?“

Any other person saying this would sound like a smug accuser, but Baekhyun speaks as if he was talking about the weather. There is no guile in him.

„Maybe. I don’t know. I was just wondering what this whole matching up thing was about.“

„Ah, that’s what it was.“

„It was confusing to me. I tried to explain it to myself somehow,“ you shrug. „Didn’t want to make it awkward.“

Looking at Baekhyun, he very well has that explanation up his sleeve. Maybe you should have asked earlier.

„AndroTech believes that robots can make up their minds to go with the client or not.“

„They do?“

„Perhaps not based on reasons that a human would think about to make a decision. But nevertheless, it’s their free will. If he says no, a new bot will be presented to the customer a week later.“

You’re genuinely surprised — and have a thousand questions already.

„I didn’t know that. I always thought that once the money is paid, it’s a set deal.“

Now you’re racking your brain why no such thing was stated on the website. You bet it’s a terms-of-service rule in font size 5.

„Mr. Kim says we should trust our judgment,“ Baekhyun continues. „It’s meant to protect us without being patronizing, I think. We can decide. At least at the beginning. I don’t know if bots like me have left their owners.“

„Maybe it’s a warning for clients who think they can do anything just because they paid.“

„I think so,“ Baekhyun says. „It’s also expensive for the faculty if something with the insurance happens. Or complicated repairs, that kind of thing.“

You’re cocking up a brow.

„That doesn’t have a lot to do with your free will, though.“

„It has to be mutually beneficial. Bots get to choose, Mr. Kim’s projects increase in security by doing that. Companies work by deals. Maybe it’s not a bad thing. I’m thankful I could decide. And I’m thankful they made me.“

Baekhyun’s statement couldn’t sound any more genuine to you, and you believe that he really is.

„You get to see pink clouds,“ you point back to the direction of the Italian stall.

„That, and— I get to see you.“

Baekhyun looks you straight in the eye now. It’s like in the lab room all over again.

You can’t get out anything other than an awkward stuttering noise.

„I, yes.“

„You have to know. I’m only built to learn about things like pink clouds because it pleases you.“

„Are you sure?“ you tilt your head, regaining your full voice tone again. „You wanted to taste the candy, too.“

Baekhyun takes a bit longer to answer now. He seems to ponder.

„That’s true,“ he eventually concludes. „Maybe I’m more selfish than I thought.“

Baekhyun’s head sinks. The eye contact breaks.

You haven’t seen him look sad before, or at least don’t remember it. Even if the funfair is in bright daylight, his eyes look as if they dim down.

„Hey. It’s not wrong wanting a taste,“ you reach forward to cup his chin. „You’re a leisure bot. You have to analyze these things, don’t you? Or, if you could, just enjoy them for yourself, you know.“

„I never thought of it this way.“

„That Mr. Kim gave you the opportunity to decide,“ you linger in your touch, „means that you’re not just here for me. You can experience things from your perspective.“

„I was doubtful it could be true.“

„But it is, Baekhyun.“

„I still can’t try pink clouds���“

„You still can. Just your way, you see. Skin memory.“

You take a moment to muster all your guts and lean in close, then kiss Baekhyun on the lips. They are subtly warm and pliable. Small, but plush. They gently pucker, as if they returned the kiss.

You never thought it could feel so authentic. Even what feels like accelerated breath ghosts over your skin. Baekhyun seems to notice your astonishment, opening his lips just a little. Maybe just to snap you out of paralysis and prove that what you feel is nowhere near the full extent of how he can move.

Or maybe— it is an invitation.

Eventually, you convince your mind that this is not just an illusion. The feeling on your lips is very real.

Unlike moments ago, you don’t hesitate. You let your tongue dip forward just enough to separate his lips by millimeters. They promptly ease around you. Baekhyun’s teeth are considerably small, and it figures, it all fits the petite frame. However, they don’t scratch your tongue one bit, you glide right across them instead. His bottom lip feels plump and works so easily as a cushion.

He’s already relaxed his jaw. You don’t even notice that he hardly tastes like anything. All you are concerned with is lapping the taste of cotton candy into him, and going by how his lips tighten, Baekhyun has understood how to take it in.

A sudden heat permeates you. Along with it comes a lewd idea, flickering before your inner eye. The imagination of Baekhyun sucking on your clit like that makes your tongue pull back to its original position. As if you had to breathe in. He notices. He’ll do something about it. It’s not just the low pressure in his mouth now that you retreated. Baekhyun wants more cotton candy. His dark eyes are begging.

What slips out to briefly nip at your top lip… his tongue. The back of your head surprisingly registers a steady touch by now — it is Baekhyun’s right hand gently cupping the surface your hair. His touch is so nuanced, you don’t feel his fingers, only how your own hair cushions back against your head. By the time his tongue retreats, your lips tingle with warmth.

Now you want more.

All he dared was a little nip, but you are curious of feeling his tongue to explore more. Baekhyun hardly has to riddle what it means that your hand sneaks up to his jaw from underneath and guides his chin toward you.

His lashes shake and eventually cast down when he releases himself into you. Baekhyun’s tongue surrenders quickly between your lips and accepts your tongue, swirling slow and deliberate as if you would coat him with liquid sugar.

Your hand doesn’t feel like leaving its position. Baekhyun’s jaw is narrow and not at all difficult to hold between your fingertips. You let him pulse and lick into you softly. Taste all the sweetness. His bottom lip is all wet and soft against yours. Slow and moaning. You sure do hear him gasp and whine at the back of his throat.

That it’s all just your saliva and his voice is all but a speaker feels so surreal. With Baekhyun’s tongue in your mouth, very aptly moving, it’s all nothing but a kiss with a robot. It feels so hard to part and stop, to catch a breath.

What must have been twenty seconds looking like a semi-chaste, bordering provocative kiss from a certain distance really got your blood circulating. Baekhyun’s eyes have become yearning.

„If that’s what it tastes like…“

„We have a lot to do when we get home.“

Chapter 5: Are You The Machine?

Being times more the social butterfly, Hwasa told you to buy a convertible sofa when you moved in — very much unknowing of Baekhyun joining your household three years later.

The number of birthday parties and overnight guests you actually found the couch useful for you can count on two hands. Six days ago, you were already pondering to give it away. Who knew you would’ve regretted that big time. You promise to write Hwasa a thank you text for being sensible later.

Despite looking small in its usual state, the couch always proves to be much larger than your actual bed in its extended form, and is much firmer to rest on. A little dull with its mint color, but that you can squarely ignore. It doesn’t creak, smells pretty neutral, and is situated in the precise middle of the living room where soft lighting emanates from three corners of the area at once without it being too obnoxious to the eye.

For a guest, sleeping on it would mean a tough night and tense back. But for Baekhyun, it’s a perfectly steady surface to recline on. He’s been stripping off his top true to his promise from last night, neatly folding it afterwards. He lays it aside just as gently as he leans back, being the first one on the sofa.

„Okay, are you ready?“

His tone is relaxing.

„Yes.“

But you don’t let that fool you, climbing on the sofa yourself now. Baekhyun’s eyes rest on you more observant than ever. Calmly, not remotely rude, but still taking in every clue. You realize that it’s what he’s been made for. It’s his hour. So he’s not going to ignore one little detail true to his nature.

You feel naked even if you’re still clothed even if it’s not Baekhyun’s intent. The way you had no chance in hiding your foot injury, you are now all too aware that he sees your nervous breath going deep.

Whenever you’re vulnerable, you opt for the fast lane. Today is no different. Knowing your favorite safe spot, you head for his chest. Baekhyun’s arms accept you knowingly. You’re snug against him in seconds. And kiss his neck, again and again, until you look up to catch another breath.

„Is, is that good?“

You hate saying that but you still did. Making big eyes at him as if it was the first thing you’ve ever done with a man.

Baekhyun visibly notes your haste and struggle for words just so that something is said. He’s deliberate in taking a moment before his answers.

„Can I ask you something?“ he eventually says, with a silvery overlay in his voice swinging along his words.  

„No problem?“ you cock your head. The request is coming soon. You wonder what’s been on his mind. Maybe he doesn’t like neck kisses. You find yourself holding your breath both out of suspense and not to sound like you’re running out of it. It’s like the faculty all over again. Baekhyun smoothes his right palm into the nape of your neck.

„If I could do all the work…“

„Oh—“

„I think we’d be in the spots we’re comfortable in. Please don’t misunderstand.“

„No no, I get it.“

„You don’t have to overextend yourself for me,“ he continues, in a low tone.

„Sorry, Baekhyun,“ you cast down your eyes. „I’m acting all stupid again.“

„I’m not saying that. What I mean is— I can show you how my body works the best when we try it this way. I want to find out every way to make you satisfied. I’m afraid I’m not suitable the other way around no matter how I twist it. Please don’t be sad because of this. Just tell me what to do. Anything. The best way to please me is still to please yourself. You don’t have to worry about me not getting an experience out of it. It’s just happening in my way that might not be visible to you.“

Baekhyun ends with a serious look.

You remember the phrase of Mr. Kim.

The, well, the only thing Baekhyun needs from you is regular interaction. As I said: Learning is vital to him. Absolutely vital.

Once more, you have to remind yourself. What keeps Baekhyun running is nowhere near the same thing as what makes you do what you do.

You turn a bit red realizing it’s not 50 rapid-fire kisses that he needs. Except to know that you like doing that maybe. But other than that, what Mr. Kim said between the lines is that Baekhyun will stagnate or even degenerate if you don’t talk to him the right way. Not about him, but about yourself.

„You… want the essentials to learn. You prefer when I speak and command.“

He gives a clean nod. You got the point.

„I will do everything else. When I say I want to act— This is not me trying to control you or something like that. I just think it’s good to start out this way. I want the weight off those two,“ he points at your shoulders. „You feel a lot of pressure that you have to do something. Me allowing you draining your energy feels counterproductive to me. I’m not saying you’d be bad at pleasing. I merely can’t help it. Fulfilling your wishes, if you will.“

„I’ve never done this before. I try to instruct you as good as I can. Sometimes I forget what you were made for.“

Maybe that learning process involves not just him figuring you out. It dawns on you that your responsibility for Baekhyun is nothing you can underestimate.

„You think of me as a person you can please. I appreciate this. But I want you refreshed and not exhausted like that. And I apologize if I’m very insisting or stopping you. Or if you feel very watched or transparent because I try to understand you. I just have to say this so we work out well from the start.“

Baekhyun’s eyes drop to your chest quite unequivocally. Of course, he’s seen you getting all worked up.

„I, I get that. I get what you mean. I think I’ve tried to bite off more than I can chew,“ you clamp up your hands. „That was too fast. I’m still running on my old bad habits.“

It strikes you in your gut that you’re the one acting like you’re automatic.

Dull, unreflected. Merely reactive if anything.  Do you realize,  you think,  how fucked up that is. Baekhyun has been behaving more human that you do. Are you the machine?

„I’m not… used to someone watching out for me this way. If I’m not saying what I want… all you can do is take every clue you get.“

Admitting that might make you feel tighter in the lungs, but at least it was honest. Maybe that’s part of responsibility, too. You’re starting to get why interrupted you. There’s a roadblock that needs to get taken down. And that block is inside of you.

Baekhyun very well knows you’re not ready nor really craving to bounce up and down on him for half an hour without getting a cramp or looking mighty weird. Not with that foot injury in the first place.

„I won’t need a clue if I already know I can do something for you. That brings me fun. You can be selfish. Be as selfish as you want to until it’s second nature. I know you have good intent. I can help you learn this. But I take the bulk of things. You don’t have to be ambitious with me.“

Baekhyun’s voice really does make you feel like you don’t have to worry about it. Until it’s second nature, then. Being so new to this really makes you scattered in your thoughts.

„I’ll remember this. I, I think I have something that I want you to try with me.“

Your hands unclamp. At least a little.

„All ears,“ he smiles. You push a strand of hair behind your ear. And another one.

„Is it weird if we try something experimental first?“

Starting out slow and uneventful or taking a dare. You went through either scenario in your head already. Either case, you’d overwhelm yourself or make the first time awkward. At least you hope this one works out.

„You gave me over 280 customizations. We can do something different for almost every day of the year. I think anyone would be curious.“

Talk about being too ambitious. You already saw what kind of stir that caused in the faculty.

„Mr. Kim must have thought I’m crazy.“

„He overworked himself. But he said it was entertaining to construct. Almost everything you came up with is now inside here,“ Baekhyun points at himself.

„Still can’t believe it.“

„And I won’t complain about having more options either. It helps me to cater to you much better. Just ask away.“

Very well. You gather yourself already.

It’s not like you’ve been thinking about a certain thing all the way home from the funfair. You try to make it come out cohesive and confident, but all you can do is mumble. Baekhyun’s face so up close makes your words unstable.

„So, uh. It said on the website you have this special mechanism and… you know what I wrote below that in the questionnaire. I was, I was just giving it a try and, you don’t have to do this if that doesn’t work out or something. It was just an idea. I don’t know.“

Somewhere beyond that word spill, you can still see how Baekhyun already looks like he knows exactly what you mean.

„The  Special Request .“

You swallow hard. That sounds like a brow-raising term that probably the entire faculty departments passed around back and forth in their memos and emails. You feel like hiding for 50 years. Maybe you should resort to digging a hole in your garden and disappear from civilization in an underground cave system. Planting beetroots and carrots shouldn’t be too difficult down there, even in this day and age.  

„The… special request. I mean, this is something that I don’t have to do anything for, technically? Not with my foot, right? But I hope this is not too special or something like that.“

Unlike yours, Baekhyun’s face is completely relaxed.

„I’d be glad to test this out with you,“ he says. „And I have to be frank. Mr. Kim said this might have been the best idea you could have given a robot scientist to work on, you know.“

Now that comes as a surprise that makes you exhale pretty sharply. He can’t lie about this, can he?

Again, you feel the blood shoot up to your face. You couldn’t be any more flustered. Maybe this actually wasn’t a too bad idea.

But still. Out of all things, you really asked him to do  this .

Just about the most perverted thing you could think of at the moment.

Special Request. What a mad thing to do. And now you’re here and he said yes. It’s bizarre. You feel the urge to jolt.

„…I’ll be getting a towel.“

But there’s a loving hand rested on your shoulder as you do.

„Y/N. There might be someone else who’s supposed to do that,“ Baekhyun holds you back from jumping up and rolling off the bed entirely. „Your politeness is quite incredible to me, I must say.“

And you did the same mistake again.

You grit your teeth, snap back into Mr. Kim’s advice. Instruct, instruct, instruct. It feels like you have to rewire your brain from scratch.

„Please— bring me a towel, Baekhyun,“ you rephrase, pause in your movement, and take a deep breath. Giving commands like that wasn’t anything like you’ve done with your previous boyfriend. You never dared. You thought it would bother him.

But Baekhyun is headed down the hallway in almost a split second. He returns with not one, but two towels. And— A hair tie.

He hands it to you with a little smile. Baekhyun didn’t miss you swipe your hair out of your face multiple times.

Concentrated in his work, he gets busy stacking one towel at the end of the bed and splaying out the other across the sheets. Waiting, you sit at the edge and watch. His movements are economical and fast. Once the bigger towel of the two is neatly lined up as a square, he stops to look at you.

Okay , you think to yourself.  Next thing you want, next thing… He’s not here to chit chat nor are you. Don’t be silly and ask why he’s looking at you like that. You can’t just ask for towels and it’s done with the whole instruction thing. He doesn’t mind if you say this with more directness. Bots can’t read minds. It’s not like he’s working on autopilot like some other pleasure models do. It won’t sound weird, it’s what he needs. Say something, say something. Keep it crisp now.

„Come pick me up. Settle me on this.“

That’s more like it.

„All as you wish.“

Baekhyun scoops you up from the edge of the bed without any seeming effort. When you first arrived at your house, you already felt just how easily his arms were carrying you. Who’s to blame? In the online questionnaire, you requested nothing less than that.

Given what he’s made of and how he’s powered, his muscle capacity can’t fade. It’s crafted for endurance. You find yourself transfixed on his biceps gulping. That he’s topless and you can feel his heartbeat doesn’t help.

„Is there something wrong with my arms?“ he stops on the spot.

Baekhyun took only the blink of an eye to notice. You might as well blurt out your entire uncensored thoughts whenever they come up. Maybe you’re wrong about the mind-reading thing. Again.

„I was just wondering… You can’t really tire, right.“

He seems to have anticipated the question. Meanwhile, the shakiness in your voice is hard to conceal.

„Every model,“ he retorts, „is instructed to take that into consideration. We’re not getting together with a fellow bot who works the way we do. Mr. Kim told us many times that we have to mind the difference.“

„So this is part of the testing?“

„Yes. Underestimating it is a bad idea. Not because we want to insult a human or anything. It’s just a mechanical thing to mind. We’re just built this way. By virtue of the material if you will.“

„Yeah. You’re really strong…“

As of yet, Baekhyun’s posture holding you is still the very same. He grips you from underneath your upper back and knees without crouching or wavering. His body’s balance is absolute nuts. Every other guy would’ve shifted your weight or his feet somehow. And Baekhyun isn’t even reaching 5’10 or looks particularly buff from a distance. At the carousel, he even looked as if he was a kid.

„There’s no reason to worry,“ he immediately shakes his head. „I’ll be very careful. I know that I have to harness my strength. I’m not going to do things roughly unless you really want it.“

Now that you think about it. He could probably pulverize you with one thrust. Rest in peace, uterus.

„So, you can adapt to me, right?“

On the inside, you already beat yourself up for questioning Baekhyun like that. He’s your creation. Mr. Kim perfected him. He doesn’t have flawed human intentions or ulterior motives. Comparing him to guys who didn’t have your best interest in mind is an unfair thing. All of his body is regulated and under meticulous control. The way he kissed you at the funfair was done with impeccable measure. Everything down to the millimeter. There is no reason to mistrust him.

„If there’s anything I’m programmed to do, it’s that,“ he says through a smile, causing his cheeks to become adorably full. Up close like that, again you notice how small his face is.

„That’s, that’s true,“ you soothe yourself, and make effort to hold onto him. Although you probably wouldn’t fall off by accident even if you randomly flailed around.

„You don’t have to be afraid. I couldn’t hurt you even if I get a bug.“

„Heard about it,“ you say, recalling one of the first videos you watched about pleasure models online.

„I would shut down and Androtech gets an emergency video call that goes straight to your phone.“

Nothing less than that has also been the first bullet point in the online document you received after sending Mr. Kim your questionnaire. You signed the paper only a week ago.

„Okay. Yeah, there are many precautions. Even if your system runs on an error, nothing’s gonna happen.“

„You got it. I’ll do everything slowly, okay.“

Slowly bending forward, he plants you in the center of the sofa with the spread towel well distributed all underneath. You could roll to the side, it’d still cover the area well enough. With you on your back and feet propped up, Baekhyun joins you kneeling on his heels at a certain distance. Seeing him this way makes him look cute. It’s hard to believe that someone sitting so chastely on your sheets could probably elbow any bypassing truck into a street ditch.

You have to gather yourself again. Deep breaths from the belly. The nervousness is back stronger than ever.

Hey. This is what you got him for,  you say to yourself.

Why’d you be a chicken? Baekhyun is just as sweet as you wanted him to be. Strip and get your orgasms. That’s what he’s here for. Not hurling you to outer space or whatever. It’s rude if you pretend anything else and have him wait. You spent too much time customizing the living hell out of the website and Mr. Kim’s team worked too hard on this for you to ruin it like a scaredy-cat. This is what you wanted. Literally, exactly what you were imagining. Now do him the favor to fulfill that, and do yourself the favor. You’re more of a prick if you deprive him of things he can do for you than if you are selfish for once. This is taking way too long. It’s ridiculous. You can make this so simple.

You have to admit that the sudden inner voice came up at the right time for a pep talk. You make sure to put the right weight into your voice.

„Please take off my clothes.“

Chapter 6: Candy Apples

You exhale, mentally flip through the safeword instructions that the faculty website provided at the top of the questionnaire. Stop for stop, pausefor pause, more for more. Straightforward business. They know they’re dealing with nervous clients.

Once Baekhyun is done peeling your jeans off, he nonchalantly tosses them off the sofa knowing very well you made a strange face at him for folding his own clothes. You have to laugh and almost forget that you’re almost entirely naked in front of him for a moment.

Your voice would probably come out too squeaky and trembling at this point. So you take the liberty of reaching for Baekhyun’s wrist. It’s surprisingly small with your fingers loosely wrapped around it. His pretty fingers couldn’t be any more enticing. You questioningly shoot a glance up at him.

„Yes. Guide me,“ he whispers, and it sounds as intimate as it did last night under the fairy lights. „That’s perfect.“

As good as you can, you at least try to get more comfortable on your back. You don’t dare to laxly spread your legs yet, but manage to bring his hand close enough between them. Your voice comes out in staccato, but it’s still more stable than you thought.

„Your thumb… And your index… Please rub me.“

Baekhyun lowers his hand on your core in a soft pace.

„Okay. Very slowly,“ he says. „I’m starting now. And always say stop if you want me to. You know the safeword system, right?“

You nod.

„It said you’ll also give me clues for tapping.“

At least when the situation requires it.

„I’ll be sending Mr. Kim a message that I’m in good hands just like he thought,“ a very content Baekhyun smiles gently at you.

His touch is quite feathery at first, not lingering for too long as to see how you react. Baekhyun’s hands are sweet and slender on you, nor are his palms very wide. They both alternate on and fit well with the very spot they caress in tender intervals. You can be lucky your underwear is still on. His touch would probably shock you if it was skin-to-skin right away.

How long his fingers really are you start to feel when he drags his index finger down from your pubes, across your clit, between your labia, dusting just briefly over your clothed entrance. Your jaw feels like it’s sewn shut. The noises you want to make are too overwhelming. Baekhyun keeps on repeating his strokes until he changes to using both hands at once. Again, being very dainty how they trace the area, but not missing a single inch.

„Shit… You can use more pressure. But don’t do it for too long, Baek.“

Baekhyun doesn’t waste much time. The rubs of his thumb push down on your clit quite a little more. With the fabric of your panties between his finger and you, the friction turns into a languid heat and a slowly oozing wetness getting trapped in the spot. Only his other hand is necessary to feel yourself beginning to soak.

„That’s beautiful,“ is the only comment from him that you can hear through your upcoming moans, now finally let out.

How damp you are is accompanied by Baekhyun’s either thumb dipping into the little hill your clit makes through the white cotton, probably becoming semi-transparent with every new caress. You could go crazy.

„Do what, whatever. Use your entire hand. I mean hands. Use both. Use all your fingers.“

Your moans are thrilled. And as desperate as you’ve been trying to hide. But he only seems spurred by it. That relief helps you loosen up at least a little more.

„I’ll try something, okay. Say how you like it.“

As if the tension on your clit is not enough, Baekhyun has the compelling idea to switch from his thumbs to using both index and middle finger to prod between your labia as if they were headed to penetrate you.

They push against your entrance carefully enough not to tear the cotton, but as proper as having the juicy, wet bit of skin around the opening feel his two fingertips going for their aim with a steadfast precision. They come in just below your urethra, almost sliding past underneath it, all over the fabric, right onto your hole. He knows exactly where to position them, and keeps his fingers locked and circling in the spot.

„Fuck. You’re too good at this. Push it.“

„Once or more?“

„Do it more. Do it as if you were fucking me.“

The hem of your panties gets pulled down briefly with every tug that results from Baekhyun dipping his two fingers forward. By not even half an inch, but you can feel it. The fabric dents inward where he stiffens his fingers and lets them sink into your pussy shallow, as much as the cotton allows.

In the meantime, the upper part of his left hand is preoccupied flat against your clit, making it swell up by giving a rhythmic pulse with a surprising consistency. You grit your teeth. His expression is as concentrated and adoring as always.

You realize that obviously — Baekhyun doesn’t have a dominant hand. Why would he. Left, right, they’re both able to do the exact same thing with the exact same agility and intensity. Or completely different things without influencing each other.

With the many possible scenarios popping up in your mind by knowing that, your legs open by themselves. Baekhyun keeps on patting your clit, but going much slower to drag out the arousal. He’s taking off some pressure, but softly continues.

Meanwhile, his right hand, still pointed right at your core, pokes through your panties swift enough to deepen their reach. Your pussy is all sticky against the cotton, with the blotch of the fabric getting large enough to seep down toward your ass. Before, the wetness had been thin and trickling, but now grows much more viscous and lubricating.

The resulting slick noises are making you feel more turned on than embarrassed. Baekhyun has somehow managed to make it sound more sexy than you thought it could be.

His eager, lowered brows moving along in the smallest arches with every dip only contribute to your legs drifting further apart. Although he is still kneeling as before, he’s hunching forward now. His eyes are stuck on you like magnets. Baekhyun is mesmerized. Either of your inner thighs can feel his breath. Your left thigh even gets a little tickle by his hair strands, right where you are sensitive.

„Baekhyun, ah shit—!”

It’s so hard to hold it together. With an erratic buck out of nowhere, your hips skew Baekhyun’s aim to the upward right. His fingers end up pressing right into your outer labia with the same momentum he just used on your entrance.

You gasp out. Before he can even apologize, you secure his hand right in the spot with your own.

How fast your reflex was rips Baekhyun’s eyes from your pussy and gives you a spike in adrenaline. His surprised face makes you strangely horny.

„No no, go on,“ you bring his fingers right into place. „Squeeze my lips. Please make them really swollen. I want them as red as the candy apples you saw at the fair. Make them so you’ll want to have a big juicy bite.“

„Oh, you can bet.“

The usually so light and sweet smile that Baekhyun carries so often becomes a lot darker, sexier now. His eyes are like two pieces of coal from underneath his bangs. There’s no doubt in his tone. He will execute everything you say to the last drop.

You can already tell what you got yourself into. Ambition is something that you can leave to him. You gave him enough food to chew and devour. Suddenly, Baekhyun’s pussy crazy face is something you want to provoke even more.

„Show me how much you love them. Don’t hold back.“

��I won’t.“

„Make it really filthy for me. Do it like worship.“

„Time for some lip service.“

Baekhyun’s left hand wanders down from your clit. Together with his right hand, it digs into the fabric of your panties to get hold of your labia. One between his thumb and index each, he gives a juicy squeeze to test them, gathering them up in their full fleshiness.

They’re too wet for Baekhyun to have enough grip on them if he just pinches them from either side. He has to use three fingers at once and even succeeds in pulling them forward just enough to have your clit enclosed behind them.

The crotch area of your panties is not wide enough to cover your lips like that. With Baekhyun massaging their inner edge with both of his thumbs, you soon have to deal with the soaked fabric no longer veiling the entire area. The craving in your voice almost takes you aback.

„Shove it to the middle, now. Let me feel your hands. Skin to skin. Do it.“

Baekhyun instantly complies. He centers and lines your panties across your clit that gets a bulky, rubbing coverage that way, all while exposing your bare lips on either side. The fabric stretches across your pussy almost like a thong. The unspoken wow on Baekhyun’s lips does not escape your attention. Nor does the way his tongue darts out. The way he brings his hands on your labia makes your body jerk and wind, twisting the towel underneath your back. His face is so much closer, both the warmth of his breath and the heat of the friction of his fingers makes your arousal pool into even more wetness.

„We’ll change this up,“ you say, catching Baekhyun fully alert.

„Tell me.“

You’re sweating. The idea that comes up in your mind is so many times dirtier than what you first thought while he was kissing you at the carousel — that you have to gather your breath several times.

„Tug here,“ you bring Baekhyun’s left hand to the front part of your underwear. „Pull it upwards. And press my lips together with one hand.“

Bringing up your panties this way leaves the middle line of fabric thinner, as well as tight and squeezing around your clit and labia minora. It slides between your ass cheeks and pulls against both of your holes at the same time.

That way, Baekhyun has an easier time squeezing the outer lips together quite firmly. They’ve become pink and red like ripe strawberries. Your pulse is racing like crazy.

How Baekhyun presses them with his fingers curling forward, your clit becomes even more closed in. Both the tightened up fabric digging into its sides as well as from the front, and the grip of Baekhyun’s right hand on your entire pussy leaves it attacked from all angles. The squeeze is strong and far too delicious.

„Fuck, so lewd, fuck!“

The arousal is like a luscious burn spreading. But it doesn’t sting or rub your clit enough to give it relief. You’re left in limbo, with your pussy lips growing plumper in Baekhyun’s never-tired, busy fingers. You want him to eat and slurp you up whole and stuff his mouth full, and have him trail his cotton candy tongue all over your big clit, but know very well that you’d come in seconds and probably pass out. Your legs twitch far too much already.

„Pause. I’m, I’m not gonna let you eat it for now. For now, Baekhyun. But you know how it would be like.“

Baekhyun stops. He very well knows.

„Your lips, they—“

You wish you had his cock between them and you know he knows, too.

„Need a good filling,“ you whisper to him. „A big one. Big and glazing and oozing.“

Pouring out as much as possible. You can picture it so well. Baekhyun hums right along.

„Yes, Y/N.“

„I can’t wait for much longer. You have something for me?“

„I have.“

Baekhyun’s fingers loosen carefully now. Slow, as not to give you the accidental push over the edge now that the pressure on your clit subsides and it becomes sensitive, easy to set off. Eventually, he is able to let go completely without triggering your orgasm. It leaves you throbbing and even hornier than before.

„Do you want to, or should I?“ he points toward the hem of his pants. You both end up smirking a little to yourselves. You know it’s your favorite part.

„Won’t be taking chances with this one,“ you breathe out, then scoot forward from your recline to hook your fingers at his abdomen. Time to inspect. It’s a welcome break to let your clit off the hook a bit. He’s even warmer than his wrists there.

You only realize that there’s no reason for him to wear boxers underneath when you’re already halfway nearing the spot that seems too bulged out for your own good. Way too bulged out. Shoving Baekhyun’s pants down to his knees entirely, you get to see that Mr. Kim’s engineers really did overwork themselves.

Just as you requested, this part of him has been left deliberately hybrid — the skin showing an actual silver-blue sheen from underneath. Inside, you see copper and titanium-plated ligaments and movable layers that intertwine like fish scales. Outside, a highly elastic blend of silicone and texture-giving material. It’s matte and a bit opaque, but still akin to actual veins being visible in how it’s sculpted.

Baekhyun’s subtle curve looks remarkably elegant. Almost mathematical. You could put his dick next to the Fibonacci Spiral and it would be uncanny.

Now with his trousers removed, you see how easily everything rises and expands even more. The layers inside his cock glide alongside each other seamlessly without the startling noise you expected them to make. Their sound is absolutely minimal.

„That’s the dick I wanted.“

„All for you, Miss. Try it out.“

Chapter 7: Custom Shapes

You can’t resist the urge to touch him, trace a finger across the right side. How easy to the eye the material appears is evenly matched by how soft and smooth his entire length is, peaking in a subtly formed tip with cascading angles. Neither too broad nor bulbous, nor with a protruding edge, promising an easy insertion and smooth thrusts. There’s a deliberate bit of foreskin adhering to it, closing the transition between tip and shaft in a harmonious way. You love his cock. But one thing you want to kick yourself for.

You’ve entirely overestimated yourself in terms of how many inches you want him to get like an idiot. Not to mention the girth.

It’s almost as big as your whole fist. He’s going to absolutely destroy you. You feel your hands starting to shake. The adrenaline drops into a panic.

„It’s too big, Baekhyun. I’m scared.“

„Y/N…“

„I’m really not used to this. It’s going to hurt me.“

Even before you finish speaking, he immediately shakes his head.

„No, no, I’m sorry if it comes across as that. I can make it squeeze more easily if you want. I can do that.“

„Can you?“

„That’s what the plates inside are for. You can try it out. Press it if you want.“

Calming yourself feels hard to do right now. But you follow his suggestion, giving the middle part a proper squeeze. First hesitant, but then, more firmly.

Kinetic memory, you remind yourself.

And he didn’t lie. Everything becomes a lot more malleable than you thought.

The little scale parts visibly rearrange. Where you apply pressure, and it’s still not much at this point, the girth recedes, and slowly bulges back out after you retreat your fingers again.

„So… okay. Okay. It does feel different. That’s working. But it’s still really huge…“

Baekhyun comes to assuage you with his voice now.

„I’m not going to rip you apart, okay. It also doesn’t expand back once I’m inside you.

„It doesn’t?“

„I can make it adapt to how you want it to be.“

The plating does look like it allows for a lot of flexibility. And decent elasticity for that matter. You soothe yourself by squeezing him again, watching the diameter contract inside your palm.

„That’s, that’s good news. And I thought I’d get impaled.“

„It has a metal core but it doesn’t necessarily stay the same,“ Baekhyun continues. „If you want to take it into your mouth, I can do that as well and make it smaller.“

„It’s what I’ve been thinking. I’d get lockjaw otherwise. You have one fat monster.“

Whatever you were thinking when you gave him almost an underarm worth of length on the website, something got the best of you — despite things being so predictable and his customization being entirely up to you.

„I hope I didn’t scare you too much.“

Baekhyun himself reaches down now to squeeze his cock next to your own hand until the copper layers contract. The firmer he does it, the more it adapts. It’s like he said. Maybe you can actually fit this. A big lump that’s been coiling up in your stomach slowly dissolves with that thought.

You also notice that Baekhyun is completely still even if you’re practically in a death grasp around his dick. Anybody else would be squealing and writhing. You again realize. He feels absolutely nothing.

It is all meant just for you.

You have to get that fact into your head. It’s all crafted for your enjoyment. Of course it’s not going to be some immovable way-too-large-dildo attached him. For the amount of money you paid, anyways. You could swear a third of your budget was used to give Baekhyun a high tech wonder wand.

„The good thing,“ he says, „about being made instead of born is that it can be three in one. I know why men easily envy pleasure models who are built in such a way.“

Wait a second. You perk up. What does that mean.

„Three in one… sizes?“

„Exactly,“ Baekhyun begins to recount. „Mister Park phrased it like this. A big girth to look at, medium size for penetration, and a shorter version for oral. Especially if you are concerned. You have a strong gag reflex.“

It’s hard to believe your ears right now.

„How—How did you—“

„While I was making breakfast. I looked into the freezer to see if we have pizza for lunch. And I saw your box with mixed brands of popsicles.“

„Oh…“

That box.

„The smaller ones are almost all gone.“

He must’ve looked at the back of the box where the types of ice cream are all listed.

„Yeah. The mini cones and such.“

And the sandwiches with three types of ice cream inside. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry. Your favorites. But why would that even matter? You look at Baekhyun completely incredulous. What on earth was he getting at?

„But the elongated ones,“ he draws an approximate image into the air with his index, „that you have to squeeze out of a tube are untouched. It’s the type of ice cream that you have to wait to melt to rise up from the paper wrap. And when they do and you squeeze, it can shoot up suddenly. That can be uncomfortable to eat for some people. If you have a sensitive throat, you’ll avoid it.“

You feel caught for something you didn’t even commit. How could he make such an accurate conclusion based on what you didn’t eat? You already saw at the funfair how easily he could look up information about food on the spot. Maybe that’s exactly what he did. But still, he connected two seemingly unrelated things without breaking a sweat. He’s really learning fast.

„I’m dating Sherlock Holmes.“

The colorful breakfast fruit plate Baekhyun served up was too delicious to notice that he’d already inspected and organized every inch of your kitchen. Not to mention he was wearing one of your cute aprons with little dancing piglets and sheep on them which distracted you until the toast got cold.

„I’m not going to ignore the hints if they’re right in front of my eyes. Avoiding your discomfort is my first priority.“

You go figure.

„So… you can make it even more perky, then?“

„Not to an extreme degree. But molded to the width of your jaw and teeth,“ Baekhyun points at your chin. „So it will slide in and out very easily.“

„Oh, alright?“

You raise your brows. So it can actually change its shape even more than how he just showed you. You’re starting to like this.

„It’s not going to be painful or make you choke unless you push for it. But when I decrease the length, that shouldn’t happen anyway.“

It really does seem practical. Three in one. The perky version for oral. Why not, the best of all worlds. It’s an advantage of technology, as weird as it sounds.

You mentally send blessings to whoever in the testing department had the guts to brief the colleagues that the big girth version is more eye candy rather than recommended for use. You’d probably clamp up or scream the roof down if he fucked you like that. Let alone do deepthroat.

„Does this mean… you can make it an imprint that fits my mouth? Can I see it?“

He’s really making you curious. You’ve indicated a vague idea of something like that in the questionnaire, but never assumed that the engineers would bother making it into something complex. Up until now, you have to urge yourself to not underestimate how easily inspired they must have been. Somebody really went off.

„I can give you a short demonstration if you help me a little,“ Baekhyun reaches for the towel at the end of the bed, drying off his hands with gentle rubbing motions.

„Okay, just tell me.“

„All you have to do is take it in very slowly. And consistently. It will shape itself that way. I’ll have to give you a few pointers. Can I do that, you want to try this?“

„Sounds good.“

„You can always pinch here if you don’t want to anymore,“ Baekhyun indicates a spot at his right thigh that is just within reach.

„I got it. Just pinch,“ you repeat for yourself, and settle to get comfortable, push your hair out of your face.

At first, positioning yourself is a little difficult because you have to bend forward from your own seated position to reach his crotch, but you end up figuring it out without having to put strain on your foot.

Little by little, you guide in Baekhyun’s tip.

It immediately begins to waver and bend inside your mouth. Meanwhile, judging by the little nestling and a soft tug at the back of your head, Baekhyun has used the hair tie to pull your hair into a ponytail.

While you had immediately laid the tie aside after he returned from the bathroom and forgot about what it was supposed to do out of nervousness, he kept an eye on it.

Baekhyun is that motherfucker, you say to yourself. Let’s do this.

Given that the keyword seemed to be consistency, you remind yourself to keep going stably, keeping your lips loose around him. As if you were eating an ice cube, you avoid using your teeth like hell. You must look ridiculous opening up this wide.

„Don’t worry about scraping me once or twice, the silicone is sturdy,“ Baekhyun says, letting his right hand glide under your jaw. „Prop your chin on my palm. I show you how wide you have to open to make it comfortable.“

Whatever sturdiness there is supposed to be, all you feel is the slightly velvety surface of his cock’s underside lathering against your tongue. You would have thought it takes some lube to make it glide, but it’s not as painfully dry as you thought. Neutral it does taste, but it’s not a desert dry material.

With Baekhyun’s hand under your jaw, you get a better sense of opening up soon. He’s really touching you very gently.

„You feel how it re-forms itself, right. Is it okay like this?

„N—hm.“

„Keep sliding it in for just a little more. You’re doing great.“

Doing so is really surprisingly easy. Where you thought his dick would bump against, there’s basically nothing happening at all.

„Excuse me when I say that. You have a perfectly shaped mouth cave,“ Baekhyun smiles. „But I already know from kissing you.“

What must have sounded like the creepiest compliment in any other situation actually makes you hum and smile a little. You begin to understand just how seriously he seeks to map out your body. Nobody has ever truly bothered to do that.

In the meantime, you notice your nose approaching a dead stop at his loins and your lower lip pressing against what must be the most supple balls of all time. You’re sure that he didn’t make those shrink.

„They’re as big as they were before,“ Baekhyun confirms, vigilant eye he is. „The rest is already close to fully imprinted by now. I just need you to move your head back and forth a little. That helps me gauge how you angle it and what your lips tend to do. Add a bit of variation if you want.“

Doing just that proves to be more fun than you thought. You bop your head a little slower, a little faster. Shallow, then all the way to have your forehead meet his abdomen. It really is… easy?

His size has decreased significantly. You didn’t gag at all so far. Baekhyun doesn’t feel as if he’s just stuck there and ramming in. That you’ve already taken his entire length in so early makes you feel really accomplished, too.

While you move your head, you can feel his dick change a little on your tongue. You even let it slide in sidewards to poke into your cheek, then pull out to kiss the tip of his dick, making Baekhyun smile even more brightly.

„I see you’re good at this. And I really love your lips. They’re pretty.“

You inspect the very slicked up shaft before you with great interest. Without really going at it fully, you already really salivated a lot on it. But even more notable is the unusual shape it’s changed into. It’s assumed a downward curve and has dents where your tongue and teeth were located a second ago. The tip is also much more streamlined. It could probably reach down your throat a little more without having you coughing all over the place.

„The imprint is done, right? That looks really impressive.“

„As good as finished. I save that in my memory data. It can reform at any time you wish it to.“

So that’s part of kinetic learning, too, then — custom dick shapes.

„Mh, interesting. Thanks for doing this, Baek.“

You straighten from your former position and smile at him.

„I might use a similar shape if you ask me to do anal. Just slightly larger. I think I can fit into you very well overall.“

As if he couldn’t be any more adorable, he puts his thumb up with the most innocent face.

„Oh man. I’m so glad I got you, Baek.“

He’s very well read that your questionnaire had a clear preference when it comes to butt stuff.

„Thank you very much. If you want to do this often and get a little practice, I can even help you slide it down your esophagus a little more. I promise you won’t gag or get narrow.“

You don’t doubt it’s possible anymore. Who knows what other freaky templates he can bend into.

„This dick really is magic,“ you lick off some excess saliva from your lips.

„All it is is being designed so you can do whatever you want with it. Everything to your liking.“

You scratch your head.

„And I thought I’d get into trouble doing this.“

Lord knows every blowjob so far has landed you in making a scene or teary eyes. Especially if you tried to shove it down even if you couldn’t reach balls deep. Silly ambition again. And you thought you’d quit this all together.

„Just because you have a limit to depth,“ Baekhyun wipes a little thread of spit from your chin, „doesn’t mean you have to do away with your oral fixation. I really saw you having fun trying different techniques. And it looked like it was very pleasant stimulation for your tongue and saliva flow. If you want do this, you can always ask.“

You get a little flustered at him saying that. Not that he’s wrong. In any sense at all, actually.

„I think you’ll have to get ready to be in my throat a lot during the mornings. With my favorite cherry lube.“

Oh god. That is going to be… very slobbery and heated.

Nothing screams more ‚already am, come get your face fucked at 4:15AM I don’t care‘ than Baekhyun’s eyes right now.

„If you want something tasty before breakfast I’ll have no problems preparing that also.“

He does an invisible hat tip. So serving up fruit is not exclusive to the kitchen then. You find yourself getting euphoric.

„And… we will get to anal some time,“ you mumble under your breath. „Put some prep stuff on our online grocery list.“

„Yes, Ma’am. Just noted. I hope I can thrill you.“

As if you were getting into your car for the first time all over again, Baekhyun dons his best butler voice and you’re starting to fancy it.

„With that wonder boy you have in your pants, I’m thinking I met my match, you know.“

The type you wanna say I do to in a special ceremony separately.

„Precisely how it should be.“

„And, Baekhyun… With the special request idea. I don’t know how to say it. I want to extend this a little to oral as well. Maybe even today.“

„Will get back to it in about an hour.“

So he’s already calculated the route, then.

One hour sounds like a challenge to you, but at this point: You might as well trust what he’s got on his mind. He estimates you better than you do yourself anyway. You’re glad you didn’t move to penetration right away to begin with. Your pussy had enough time to calm down a bit. The swelling is still very much there, however. And your panties are nothing short of a mess. They’re basically sopping.

„As for going on now… I probably don’t have to tell you how wet I am,“ you take a deliberate look down your thighs.

„If you want to know my exact train of thought. I’ve already planned when I’ll wash your ruined underwear. 3:30PM.“

You have to giggle. The mere thought of that image. And he’s really taken over the household like a whirlwind.

It’s time you get to your part of the equation again. Mr. Kim’s imperative returns to you. Your turn to give Baekhyun some more input. With a dick like that, you can think of more instructions than you could list in one go. You build yourself up and place your hand just where you cupped his chin during your kiss on the fair.

„Then I plan you take them off — at now PM.“

You can almost hear a series of programmes running behind Baekhyun’s flickering eyes. Who knows what he is analyzing in his head again. Eventually, he flashes his cute little smile again and ushers you.

„Here?“ He questioningly points back to the center of the sofa where you started out, and you lie down right there.

Funny how much you sidetracked and moved around in the meantime.

Not thinking about transitioning into another position has made it much more effortless and nowhere near as awkward as you thought it would be.

And in hindsight, you were easily swayed into an unexpected intermezzo. Guess you love sucking his dick already. Which is just how Baekhyun offered it to you. All yours. Big and fat and bendy and perfect, morphing itself in whatever makes you hot. You want to shout it from the rooftops, right at all the Mister Lees of the world.

But upon second thought? Better not tell especially your nosy friends from work how hooked you are before they ask for more details.

Hwasa means well, but she would end up telling your damn boss by accident or something. Or Taemin, he would gossip about it on his twitter without name-dropping you, but everybody would know regardless. Meanwhile, Xiumin would make a vlog about „How To Perfectly Clean Your Flat“ and mention it in passing. Chen’s wife would watch it and tell Chen and Kai. Kai would absolutely tell Hyuna and Lisa. And Hyuna would absolutely tell Lay, and Lay would tell Kai, and by that time, the president would probably know.

Treasuring this all for yourself seems like the better thing to do. You want to protect Baekhyun even if he’s the last person on the block who probably needs it. Maybe it’s also a sense of protecting yourself. Maybe some of your friends wouldn’t be averse to getting a leisure bot themselves, but the rest of them still prized even their toxic partners as better than someone like Baekhyun, even if his kind had been part of the society for long enough.

You take note of making impromptu experiments like that for the future regardless.

By now, Baekhyun undresses you fully. Steady hands, steady eyes. Giving your legs a lusciously slow caress that gives you goosebumps. Pulling down your panties with a lot of deliberation, and giving you a good view of his cock. It’s shaping itself back and grows a little again, adding in girth and becoming less streamlined. It curves upward now, revealing a very plump and tight set of balls underneath. You’ve briefly felt them, but didn’t have the chance for a closer look. Now that you think about it, they’re even bigger than before. How it happened, you don’t know.

They seem to be pulsing and turning something white and silver metallic on the inside now. Making them appear… even larger. Two generous scoops of light pink seaside parlor ice cream. Discernable as a pair, but still perfectly one like a pillow. Not sagging very far down even if they seem to move around quite easily. They can probably slap and cushion against your clit if you go for doggy style with decent speed. The noises would be so nasty, you’d have to record it. You curse your foot for not permitting that anytime soon.

So— that thought will leave you high and dry for some time, then.

Makes that damn Achilles’ Heel getting his ever-loving shit together an even sweeter feat to look forward to, actually. So Baekhyun can really drive it home. You get kind of heated at that image in your mind. He is great at giving it to you from behind, you just know it. Now, everything he does well. But this one in particular. You get all sweaty with that idea again.

Baekhyun is still all the way preoccupied with pulling your panties past the knees, upbeat and kind in his expression. And calm, endlessly calm. Every movement, it’s all in perfect ease. You look like a jittery mess compared to him on your back right now.

„Shit, man,“ you bite down your lips after a desperate sigh. This couldn’t be any more tantalizing.

Chapter 8: The Bigger Picture

„Should I stop?“ his hands linger at your ankles, panties almost stripped off your legs. You can already feel the relief of not drowning in yourself anymore.

„No, I,“ you shift around on your back. How the hell do you explain this. „I wish I could stay calm like that, I’m not gonna lie to you. Sorry if I’m one of those bot envy people.“

No use in beating around the bush. He’d read it out of you anyways.

„And I wish I could shake as beautifully as you, you see.“

A comforting eye smile rises underneath his bangs. It gets a hold on you in a way that’s inexplicable.

Don’t you remember him with the cotton candy taste, you think. If anything, the envy is mutual. You’re pretty slow.

He’s trying his best to understand you.

You might want to start reciprocating that. Baekhyun can’t feel human happiness. But he can feel like he’s fulfilling his task. So help him with that, for God’s sake. Your part of the equation isn’t done after paying some money and taking him home or whatever. Being with a bot is more than that. He doesn’t have the needs of a human, but there are conditions that have to be met regardless.

„Point taken, Baekhyun.“

His cheesiness is cute. No use in not trying to tremble either, then. You can’t be him and he can’t be you. Might as well embrace yourself so he can work with it.

Baekhyun finishes the swipe of his movement and settles more closely, sitting on his heels just as before. You’re starting to think that it’s his signature posture.

„And I don’t mind if you envy me,“ he says, offering his hands for you to hold.

„You don’t?“

„There’s cold envy and there’s warm envy. It’s all about how much you like the person. You don’t hate me, right.“

„No, how would I? I really— like you.“

You close either hand around his.

„Then it’s warm envy,“ Baekhyun nods.

„I think… I understand.“

„And you need to know that I adore you also.“

A little squeeze of his hands accompanies his words. You’re caught off guard. All you can think of as a reply is a nod, unable to meet his eyes. You’re at a loss of words entirely. Here you go again.

Maybe the time has come that machines have a better grasp on emotions than humans. They have to teach it back to them.

You try to hide your embarrassment by a little stutter, but he’s already lowering his head down to you, again facing you close by. Close enough for you to see the light golden fuzz of his skin that actually almost seems silver under the artificial lighting of the room.

„So if you want me to do anything for you. Just do the same thing as before. You’ve done it well.“

„I don’t think so,“ you chew at your bottom lip, very well convinced that all you did was being a mess. Baekhyun must be seriously frustrated with this amount of all-too-human chaos.

„There are clients that take at least four to five trials to instruct their leisure models properly. You’ve already managed at first try, you see.“

Your jaw legitimately drops. Probably even lower than when you saw Baekhyun step out of the capsule.

„Five attempts?“

„Some send their bots back because they can’t get themselves to do it at all,“ he affirms. „But either way, those are likely the clients who’d rather apply to purchase automatic models in the first place.“

Automatic models.

You remember. Now you count one and one together — Mr. Kim talked about these bots. You never even realized. The ones seemingly everybody was ordering which drove the whole faculty staff into an endless scientific boredom.  

„Most client requests we get want some kind of he-man. They only spend twenty minutes customizing their bot on the website, if not less. Our engineers rarely get to equip a bot with so much pizzazz.“

In fact, these are the bots of a cheaper price range that run on the exact same automatism over and over for the lack of not having any other programming or sentience.

You don’t have to look no further than imagining that they work like a generic sex toy. They’re just in humanoid shape. A fruit plate for breakfast they can’t serve. They don’t have any interest in cotton candy either. The client can only switch them on for intercourse and enjoy maybe two or three default positions at best before their bot goes back to sleep again. They don’t talk freely, they don’t think, they don’t ask questions. They do their job, but they’re not…

Boyfriends.

You suddenly don’t regret spending forever at the PC to fill in forms and paying a lot more money to the faculty anymore.

„What? That’s insane. I never knew.“

How lucky you are to have Baekhyun is an overwhelming thought. If you’re entirely honest with yourself— it even gives you something that feels like butterflies. It’s strange.

„We non-automatic models can only do what we’re supposed to when we get asked.“

„Yeah.“

„Even most things a client requested in the past can’t be done again without a second permission. You have to instruct us in every new situation.“

„Yes, Mr. Kim really emphasized that.“

You feel better knowing that you have read between the lines correctly. Mr. Kim said a lot of things that sounded very complex and removed from daily life, but he managed to convey the most important thing about Baekhyun.

„I have always heard from Mr. Park that many female clients who give their bot back aren’t even the type of person who has troubles speaking their wishes. They don’t have any wishes at all. I think they’ve given up on themselves.“

He looks so downtrodden saying that. The image in your mind looks just as depressing. You want to curl yourself up.

„Wow. Wow, that… sounds scary.“

„Already by law, we can’t dictate them what we want as a replacement for their lacking preferences. Even if that is what they’re expecting. And then, they blame it on us if we stay passive during sex. It’s an unfair game.“

You can already picture how many cases like that must’ve happened.

Mr. Kim was absolutely right to let non-automatic bots decide over who they want to match with or not.

For way other reasons you had naïvely assumed. To be fair, you are still a beginner with this and AndroTech’s terms of service page was a jargon novel in font size 4, bearable as a skim at best.

„So it would even break the law,“ you find yourself even more startled. „To engage in acts that were not… requested on the spot?“

„Yes. But it’s not all clear-cut. Some bots are enabled and do try hard to read their client’s true wishes out of them, and they take the lead to get things started. Especially when a client is extremely nervous on the first day.“

„Oh…“

„You’ve seen me do it with you. How to touch you, whether I can drive and cook for you, how we relax before sleeping. You saw that I was forward with you to take the pressure off. I even picked you up without asking.“

„Yeah, I saw. I understand it now.“

Pretty much from the very first moment. Baekhyun probably knew you didn’t want to walk the corridors to the faculty exit the moment he looked at you. And he did take the lead, and asked about your every reaction hoping he anticipated exactly the right thing you didn’t dare voice.

„Which can be uncomfortable, but the client very clearly has something in mind and they end up saying it. But you can’t use coercion or skip that they say it.“

You give a small „M-hm“ in response and feel the guilt rush over your face.

„That shyness or shameful feeling at the start we can deal with. But in other cases, a person only wants the bot to tell them what to do. Which we’re not allowed to,“ Baekhyun’s voice shifts to a much graver tone. „We are the ones who adapt to the client. We don’t have a motivation to give orders, either.“

„Motivation?“

This keeps on getting more and more puzzling.

„If you can’t feel something, you can’t desire something. Take me— I don’t know what a sense of satisfaction is. And our base programming is to be of service. Even if we did something random that we saw fit just to give a command. It’d be illegal.“

At first, you wonder why the rule would not apply to the automatic he-man bots, but it was actually making sense. The client had decided on their limited programming. Switching them on was giving permission itself, and they could be turned off at any moment.

Meanwhile, a bot like Baekhyun had variation to his actions and was constantly running on AndroTech’s special power generator, lord knows what it did to run all day. Now, if any of his actions were against your will, or he did something without being asked: He would be taken away from you.

If he gave you a decisive order completely unprompted: His programming would be permanently deactivated almost on the spot, even. Bots trying to guess what their clients had on their mind were walking a tightrope.

„This is a much more serious thing than I thought.“

You puff out. Baekhyun gives a wholehearted nod.

„You can tell we have to be careful to find clients who know what they want.“

„I never thought of it that way. But yeah. I can see how the faculty gets into trouble otherwise.“

„Yes. It’s a huge problem.“

And you were as silly as assuming that bot abuse was the biggest issue in the industry. Turns out clients who want their leisure models to break the law are the real skeleton in the closet.

It’s starting to become a bigger picture to you. The repercussions are so much more expensive and damaging for the company image. A bot that an angry client kicked around was only a nuisance if repair was concerned. The whole thing was kind of bizarre.

„I’ll be very careful,“ you assure. „To fulfill my side of the contract.“

„Y/N. You are the last person who’d concern me. I have been sure from the start that you are the ideal person to be with. It’s why I agreed so fast to Mr. Kim’s question whether I want to match up or not. Most bots will ask Mr. Kim to postpone that question so they can gauge their client in a testing period.“

„They… do?“

„Yes.“

„But I already made a mistake,“ you say, remembering how you started out today. „I don’t think I’m ideal or something like that.“

Baekhyun’s following blink is more than knowing.

„That you question yourself tells me you’re a good client. Bad clients don’t self-reflect.“

Maybe you’ve done at least that right.

„I see?“

„You might become reserved or berate yourself sometimes. But that you wrote down 280 specifics for Mr. Kim tells me everything. Once the nervousness dissolves, you do the right thing already and I see your nature. You wish for a lot of things. That makes you ideal to me. I can take care of this one thing at a time.“

He plants a brief, but passionate kiss on the back of your left hand. The cheesy motherfucker got you again.

„Baekhyun, I…“

„That gives me a lot to work with. I hope you look forward to all this. We’ll spend many great nights.“

His charming little smile and dark eyes are as encouraging as ever. Thinking about the many options of 280 makes you giddy already.

„I do. And… I really want to see how the Special Request feels like.“

Your legs are like squirming jelly at this point. Very much unlike Baekhyun who’s stable and resting — in promise of great stamina.

„I’m ready if you are. I’m sorry if my talking delayed this. But I think some last few questions had to get out of the way. As for the request: There’s not much I need to prepare for it.“

Chapter 9: You Look Really Beautiful

„We’ll be starting with… you know. Lower medium size?“

You shift in the sheets, stuttering that out like a pre-schooler, but who the hell cares at this point. It’s not like you didn’t invent all of this.

„All as you want it,“ says Baekhyun with just the right touch of yielding in his tone. How he makes this sound so impeccably polite is a mystery.

„This is really easy to insert,“ he continues, giving a light caress against your cheek. You don’t miss just how much it is meant to be an encouraging touch. Your face feels tingly.

„Okay, let’s give it a shot, then.“

While Baekhyun reshapes the plates, you recline with your knees pulled toward your torso, making sure to place your wonky foot in an unobtrusive way. So far, it’s only complained while you were climbing around trying to find a position to suck Baekhyun off. Sweet baby Jesus. If your heel would ruin your first time, you’d curse your clumsiness forever and sign up at AndroTech to get your legs android-ized if that were even possible.

You’d probably make a good cyborg now that you think about it. With your new steel-inforced feet and knee caps, you’d be one robot step closer to blowing and riding Baekhyun to infinity until his dick needs repair, which you… already plan to do anyways.

„Can you stimulate me like before, please. Just by using your cock now. I’m so horny for it.“

„Of course.“

Baekhyun glides the tip up and down your outer and inner labia alternatingly, then lets it rub all over your clit. Which happens so smoothly. You’re more than wet. He’s drenched you so hard.

Shit.

It doesn’t take many prods until your arousal returns at its fullest, and Baekhyun strikes a complimenting tone in the middle of letting the underside of his shaft tap against the swelling rose bud.

„Your pussy is really pretty. It’s like pink clouds to me.“

He makes a little innocent face. He’s too adorable. Still, you swallow. So it’s time to bring the funfair to this sofa, then, is it.

„I really— want you to stretch it nicely,“ you grab hold of his cock. „So that the filling can seep in really far. I want a lot of it. And after you filled me, you make me cum.“

„I will, Y/N. I prepared a lot for you,“ he nods. „And it’s enriched with pheromones.“

Pheromones.

So the faculty did find ways to flavor things. Realizing that, you already feel twice as horny as before.

„Shit, it’s gonna smell so good. Put it in, put it in… I want to know how it feels.“

You fumble with his tip at your entrance, and Baekhyun lifts his hips accordingly. It slides in for an inch, giving your entrance an idea of the diameter so far.

While you first squeezed his dick in your hand, the surface felt very matte. Now, with Baekhyun carefully securing his cock between the soft embrace of your lips, it makes for a great sensation of grip and stretch paired with how wet you are. His medium girth is really not bad at all even if it’s downsized. In fact, it’s pushing at your entrance in the juiciest way. With no panties in between anymore. You realize that it’s really about to go down.

„Baekhyun, oh god. Oh god. It’s good. Put your hands around my waist.“

He swiftly does, no second wasted. His fingers, his palms, his wrists— are so soft. You notice that his right hand sits significantly lower than the left one, pretty much on the hip bone. You already want to ask him to move it upwards that you realize he’s seen the scar from your appendix surgery and avoided putting his hand on it.

„Do you want me to slide in more along the way?“

„Yes, more.“

You can tell that Baekhyun knows the exact angle to glide into you. With his hands suavely placed on you now, he adjusts your pelvis without needing leverage. The sheer given shape of his palms has your body melt into the right posture. Eventually, his cock tip makes its way down your walls, bulging them apart. Baekhyun’s length gliding into you has you feel the entirety of his shaft pushing in with a proper thickness. A perfect languid strain, making your pussy feel amazingly filled and bursting with veiny, girthy cock.

„Fuck. Please use your fingers, Baekhyun,“ you gasp out, feel your lungs contract. „And kiss me all over.“

He keeps on sliding in. Leaves little kisses on your nose and sweat-glazed collar bones, breasts, neck. His plush little lips make pecking noises that sound all the way dirtier when he turns them into desperate moans. Baekhyun sure knows how to push your buttons. You’re about to go nuts entirely.

One hand leaving your waist, he adds a consistent stroke at your clit until he surprises you with slowly hitting balls deep.

Already?

„I’m in. How does it feel?“

It really is good to insert.

The heat from your clit mixes with the satisfaction of Baekhyun now being fully curved inside you. He was so much easier to take than you were afraid of.

„It’s amazing to me.“

A squeeze from your muscles comfortably locks Baekhyun, who gently lowers his posture above you, in the spot. Just enough for you to let your fingertips ghost over the center of his abs. His body is so warm, almost heated.

Then, you reach for his face and kiss him deeply. His tongue immediately picks up your pacing, swirls around yours in an intricate dance. The passion overflows. You want so much more.

„Start thrusting. Stimulate me.“

Accompanied with a faster flick of his fingers on your clit, Baekhyun lets his cock pulse in and out of you without removing much of its length. The inward tug at your walls pushes your womb along with it. Baekhyun’s width is just right in spreading your pussy apart, and how he gets you off brings more slickness to each thrust. You feel yourself getting really swollen up and bubbling wet, even more than before.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

„Make it grow a little,“ you push the words past your tense jaw. „And then give me the first special request.“

Again, he doesn’t hesitate. The sudden growth spurt takes a bit off the speed out of Baekhyun’s plunge, but soon increases again. It’s because his cock has started to leak inside, pouring more and more lubrication around itself.

„Is that good?“

His thrusts make the velvety liquid surface at the base of his cock. Very slowly, but surely. He’s fucking it out of you so well. Almost instantly, the smell is intoxicating. A hefty concoction of vanilla, fruit, and something very sharp and musky layered over it. A very masculine and upbeat spice that is like an electric current. The liquid keeps oozing from your entrance with every thrust, bringing more of the scent to live.

„Fuck. Please more. That’s so good. Hold me when I buck up, Baekhyun!“

The special request is nothing but a liquid mechanism that lets Baekhyun pump you full of milky white pre-cum. Whenever you want, mid-fuck at full speed, or as a quick filling without much prep. With a big load or just a little portion as lube, anything goes. Baekhyun has to refill the material with special cartilages every now and then, but it’s compressed like the foam of a whipped cream bottle. Just a lot more fluid. And way, way too loaded with artificial pheromones for your brain to handle. Your pussy explodes with oozing pre-cum and the tension of pleasure alike. You really can’t handle it. Still dizzy from the kiss, your tongue is all loose and erratic anyway.

„Not, ah—! To ask for something I can’t handle for the twentieth time or something! Fucking shit!“

You take a deep breath. Even a fast look between your thighs has you clenching. Everything is so creamy. And sticky. And milky. All with his cock buried right in the soaking middle of it. Baekhyun really gave you a full-on A class preview for the special request.

„Ask away. Even if it’s unrealistic. I make things feasible. That’s my job if anything,“ he looks more friendly than ever at you. Mr. Kim couldn’t sport a smile any better. Jesus Christ, he’s patient with you.

„I think I got some greed but, uh.“

„No worries. I can work with that. Greedy girls are the best girls.“

„Can you just, cockwarm me and give me another load. With the— bigger… version. If that doesn’t get me to the ER. I just want to try it for a minute or two even if it’s too big. You probably know if I’m built to do that better than me though.“

By the knowing look he gives you, Baekhyun indeed does.

„That works, I already calculated that. You’re stretched enough. If we don’t do it for long and I’m not moving, you’ll just feel really stuffed and full.“

„Exactly what I’m wanting,“ you blurt, and your eyes grow all the more impatient.

„Okay. I’ll be holding your legs up a little more for that if it’s alright. Just keep your ankle very relaxed.“

„M-hm!“

By doing that, you realize he changes how you angle yourself at him. You mentally prepare yourself, and already feel him expand inside. That pushes even more of the scented fluid out of your pussy, spreading over his cock. The smell of vanilla and grapefruit, whatever it is, becomes even stronger. Everything pools and drips from his expanding shaft in sticky threads that you want all over you, and in his mouth, his face, everywhere. Your poor pussy is nothing but a lake at this point.

„I’m gonna burst with this inside of me.“

And he really is monstrously big in his full form.

„Almost there. Does it feel okay?“

It grows and grows. Becomes veinier and all slick, bathed in scent and your own pussy creaming it up.

„Shit… that thing is like a spear! Fuck! Keep it, keep it up—!“

He keeps on growing. The stretch of your walls is driving you wild. You can’t even put a proper grip on him with your muscles at this point. All there is — a bulging sensation of your pussy getting filled out all around. It does make you feel tensed up. Even if the surface of his cock feels only a bit elastic, the diameter is too wide at this point.

„It’s a bit uncomfortable if you focus too much there with your muscles,“ Baekhyun says. „Look at my hands.“

Baekhyun circles into your clit with his index. It mixes relief into the stretch. And more pulsing excitement. Just a light caress wouldn’t do it at this point. He knows he has to rub a little faster.

„You’re all… stuck there,“ is all you can moan. He’s grown sufficiently to let your sensitive entrance feel like it’s going to burn up in flames. In its normal state, there’s no way he would get past it in his large size. You don’t even know just how far up he is inside you. If he’d thrust now, your guts would be as ruined as your panties. The flaring sensation of him spreading all inside you is all that you can think of. You’re starting to think you must’ve developed a cock addiction because of those pheromones, the thought of him not being inside of you all day like this sounds terrible.

Now that he’s entirely erect and stiffened, you can tell his dick has exactly the inner metallic strength you thought it had. He’s pretty heavy inside you. You get a buzzing in your head and accidentally shift your hips a little. The feeling that follows makes you gasp.

„That, that’s hitting something. Oh my god. It’s pressing me. Oh my god. What is that, Baekhyun!“

„Your cervix.“

„That’s deep in. Holy shit.“

„It’s really big and puffy. My sensors are liking it.“

So that’s where he is, then. Buried right there. Hitting the spot.

“Hold it there, Baekhyun. It feels so unusual! Please press it a little more.“

Baekhyun shifts his hips himself, causing you to feel the same bump again. It makes your body jerk and takes you by surprise once more.

„I think it likes kissing my tip the way you do with your lips.“

Either you’re imagining things, or Baekhyun actually sounds a bit accomplished.

„What! Does it react?“

„It’s getting increased blood flow and expands around me. If you want, I can rest a little deeper with my tip at the hole in the middle.“

The idea is so filthy knowing he could shoot you up with more pre-cum any second. All of it would spritz deep inside of you, almost the deepest way possible. You picture Baekhyun mixing up a huge load for you, only to pump it all the way through his immense length.

„Please, please do that, please. Push against it.“

„I’ll have to be really careful.“

„Come on, Baekhyun,“ you firmly grip at his hips to pull them down. „Beat my pussy up. It’s deep enough. Give me the whole length.“

That this means going balls deep entirely is making your legs do funny things.

Baekhyun, squeezing in the last inch, finally makes you feel like he’s splitting you apart. From your legs up to your neck, you can feel the strain. Your pussy can barely take it. It doesn’t know whether to fall apart or to tense up. That Baekhyun’s cock tip ever so slowly pushes, then penetrates into your cervix and stays there, neither opening it fully nor just resting loosely against it, sends you all sorts of arousing signals.

„You’re stretching so well. See how amazing your labia look now.“

The sensation of Baekhyun has distracted you entirely from just about anything else. A quick glance tells you it does just look like that. Your muscles are too pushed apart to grasp his dick, but your pussy lips do that job for you. They’re finally getting their right stretch. Plush, and wet, and wide apart, they hug Baekhyun as if trying to pull him in. It’s as if they’re sucking and gargling his cock and spilling saliva everywhere. They’ve grown amazingly plump and red. Two cock-hungry, endlessly greedy girls just for Baekhyun.

„How do you feel? Describe it to me.“

„I’m feeling so, I can’t, fucking crazy! It’s prodding a spot that’s really far up. Oh God. It’s so big. You… fuck… oh— You—!“

„You can call me any dirty names you want,“ Baekhyun lowers his voice. It sounds so naughty and provoking when he does that. „You know that I’m down to be a huge whore.“

The plain sneering delight in his eyes is so intense that your pussy starts to pulsate. That lewd and yearning Baekhyun hiding underneath the cute smexy smile has ambushed you again.

„Give me that slutty look on your face and stroke my belly. Show it. Moan. If you wanna be a whore, do it properly.“

„It’s really bulging out here, Y/N…“

He whimpers, traces his palm across your abdomen, quick to find the spot. It does form a bit of a bump. Even from your position, it’s quite visible.

„Yeah… Look, you did this.“

„Your pussy is so perfect on the inside, too. Really pink and juicy.“

That his tip is currently making cockwarming love to your cervix you can very well feel. The two of them are already headed to be on a familiar basis with each other. You want Baekhyun to smash and jizz it every fucking night.

„If you have some more cum, now’s the moment, Baek. Pound it.“

„One second,“ he jerks at the base, briefly having his right hand leave your waist. You grip at the nape of his neck to pull his face down. You lock lips, and they are so mesmerizing while Baekhyun makes sure to find a nice angle.

With a loud moan into his mouth, you can feel him stuffing your pussy with a shot of rich fluid. The accompanying thrust is strong, steep, and throbbing. It makes you want to mount Baekhyun and fiercely bounce on his dick until cumming all over it, way until collapsing. His cock reaches far enough through the opening of your cervix to fill your womb with its creamy load. The liquid drips against the upper area until it spreads out and leaks down into your vagina. A lake of his semen now pools back and forth inside your spongy uterus, Baekhyun’s cock stirring it with its light pulses and movements. He’s not thrusting, but making sure to keep his dick swaying and prodding just enough to ease your tensions.

„Another load,“ you part from his lips, craving. „Really make it to the brim. Move it once. Push it in… So good, Baekhyun…“

„Okay,“ he hums, and kisses you again, this time making gentle contact with your lips. „I’ll make it really warm and thick.“

„God, yes…“

„Here, are you ready?“

„Fill me.“

Baekhyun’s fat cock delivers a juicy stab, fucking the meaty, veiny width under the tip right into your cervix. Hard and quick, making your toes shiver. The blow pounds and heavily stretches it apart under your deep guttural moans. He’s really deepening his cock almost to the max, and you can feel how stiff and girthy he’s made it become. 

The first pre-cum load allows for a perfect glide already. The plunge is so good. Your cervix now faithfully grips at his shaft, fully lubricated and anticipating, swelling up, greedily throbbing around him so fast. It pulls his cock in the way you want to deepthroat Baekhyun. You repeat and repeat his name.

Finally, a second spurt comes to seep right into you like a waterfall. Baekhyun floods your pussy entirely without holding back. A gushing injection of white streaks and pearls comes to permeate you so deliciously that your heart skips a beat. The spill is much less fluid this time, but runny just like freshly whipped coconut cream, fanning out into little melted clouds. He’s shot what you imagine as more than the amount of a small glass of water into you. You are creamed up to the last millimeter. If he was fertile, you’d be pregnant with a cute little Baek baby in two seconds, and give birth only three minutes later.

„I love it!“

Your pussy walls loosen around him. Even if it means saying goodbye to your filling, now you wanna see how his semen looks like.

„Rest your hand there while you’re pulling out,“ you guide your had toward your abdomen. „You’re gonna tell me the difference.“

With Baekhyun slowly drawing out his cock and letting the vacuum suck the fluid downward, you become giddy. Your cervix refuses to close and instead stays pulsing open, letting all that he filled you with drip out. It’s a pal size puddle. Baekhyun’s dick looks so gigantic and coated now that he pulled out. You can’t believe all of that was inside of you.

„I really hate to leave you feeling empty,“ he says, and massages your belly very attentively.

„I wish your cum could stay inside all day. It’s so warm. I really miss your cock, too. Shit, Baekhyun.“

After some waiting time, his last bits of semen makes its way down. Your pussy gapes enough to let it squeeze out. It’s so thick and white, completely opaque. How good it smells you only register when you’re already hanging at Baekhyun’s lips again. The scent drives you to kiss him again and again, having your hands all over his body, praising him with your moans. He yields into your wild hug and the making out continues until your creampie no longer flows out. Half of your pussy is full of sticky semen still, warming you from the inside. Between your heavy breaths, you realize that Baekhyun’s laser gaze on you have even more craving than before.

„And this is not even the main event,“ he rasps into your ear. „We’re still headed towards the most important thing.“

You shake. His dark eyes set on you like a panther’s. He’s readier than ever. This goddamn robot stamina. Now he wants to fuck you up entirely.

„Make me cum… really hard, Baekhyun.“

„I’ll have you moaning and arching. Tell me what to do.“

„Remember I talked about some Special Request mixed with oral?“

„Very clearly,“ he nods, helping you get up from your back. „I got you.“

„Leave it at big as it is now. Not the full growth but almost there. Really give me a lot of cum, okay. Empty yourself into my throat. You can also fuck my mouth but keep it shallow. You can hold my head later on.“

„All as you like. Here,“ Baekhyun helps you guide the shaft between your expectant lips.

You suck at the tip, but your mouth doesn’t get very far down. The difference to Baekhyun’s smaller, adapted version is extreme to see, to touch, and taste. While you gobble the far end, a generous spurt of cum shoots into your throat already. It pools on your tongue before you swallow three times.

It tastes mild and sweet.

Maybe you’ve been eating too much cotton candy as of recently, but it does bear some resemblance to it. You shake the girth from one side of your mouth to the other, signalling Baekhyun to fill you again. More cum begins to appear, then burst at the roof of your mouth, and you don’t manage to hold in all of it. Thank God the towel is thick enough.

All the jizz expands on your tongue and you swallow faster, with Baekhyun leaking more of his cock milk. You decide to have some fun thrusting your head forward and have the whole thing explode against his loins and your lower face. With Baekhyun’s dick plunging into you deeper, the remaining cum flows past your lips and lands between either of your legs on the towel.

No wonder his balls do their pulsating thing. He has to keep up mixing and pumping everything out. His cock is now so perfectly slippery that you can glide your tongue around it in fast circles. The faster you go, the more his foreskin retracts, revealing the beautiful sturdy glans that provides you with another milky shot against the back of your throat. The mixture is smooth, allowing for an easy big swallow. For some reason, it’s almost like almond milk conditioner diluted with a bit of water.

Baekhyun adding little thrusts to each leaking makes you moan like a pervert. You suck and lick up every incoming bit of fluid properly until gulping it down. At this point, your entire stomach is a sea of white cream. Your mouth feels like it’s drowning in baby lotion, but without the obnoxious taste. Even now, you’re still not tired of bopping your head and blowing bubbles with the amounts of his sperm that gather around the middle of his cock. The more you get into the rhythm of moving your head, the more heated and loud you get.

Puckering your lips adds the right pressure, and you keep your jaw as wide a Baekhyun showed you earlier. The slicking, slurping and glucking noise of the suction is music to your ears. Him spilling out more liquid helps you glaze his length with warm icing now, and your speed is surprisingly high in doing so. You end up sinking your fingertips into Baekhyun’s shapely ass cheeks and hold onto his body like that while blowing him. You feel they are toned and soft at the same time, even more heavenly when you use your entire palms to hold them.

„Great, you’re doing great,“ Baekhyun wipes off a blotch of cum from his belly and lathers his cock up with it, careful not to disturb your mouth at work. „Do whatever comes to your mind.“

As if that praise was not enough, another rewarding fountain fizzes into your mouth. The vacuum from your tight lips resounds almost like a kissing noise. With another moan upcoming, you blurt out the majority of Baekhyun’s load. This time, his legs are the victim of your slobber, getting their first contact with his cum in dripping white stripes. It looks so hot. Looking at his ruined thighs with your saliva and milk on them makes your pussy throb several times.

In the meantime, your lips are left perfectly coated and big, clinging to the veiny surface slightly below Baekhyun’s tip. Especially your lower lip has gotten much plumper and picks up every relief on his dick. You love the sound of him thrusting in his shaft that is met with a little lake of cum at the farther end of your tongue. The more elegantly he helps you plunge in the tip, the better it stirs the fluid and leaves a nice caress at the top of your mouth and the inner corners of your lips. The taste is breathtaking. After swallowing for the seventh time now, you pop his dick from your mouth and distribute the remaining cum on your cheeks and temples by sliding his length all over your skin.

„That feels so good,“ you pat his cock all over your cheekbones, your forehead and the bridge of your nose. You even glide the tip of his cock against your browbone, tracing its lining and have a few little droplets of Baekhyun’s delicious milk dance stuck in your lashes. The fluid leaves your face feel cooled and soft. The matte silicone surface of his length is perfect enough to slowly glide under the guidance of your hand, massaging your face gently and slick.

And then, you get an idea.

„Hold your cock up for me. Maybe make it curve up a little,“ you instruct, take a few breaths to cool down. When Baekhyun is ready, you slide your right hand between your legs and head your mouth for his balls at the same time.

They really are like scoops of ice cream. Enough milk has distributed over them to make your attention of kisses, licks, feathery light bites and sucking very easy. Everything glides, and you love how they vibrate ever so slightly.

„Tell me I will feel this against my clit as often as possible, Baekhyun.“

„Every day if you want. I can make them buzz a little more than that as well. That goes for my cock, too.“

„What— Really! Please do it! And please, more cum…“

And they do. It must be the weirdest thing your lips and the tip of your nose have felt, ever. A million dancing ants start their party on your skin. Alternating between left and right, you give your mouth a proper ice cream feeding. Baekhyun’s cock vibrates along and produces another waterfall of sperm.

While you let the buzzing ripen up your lips with even more swelling, drops upon drops of cum add from above where Baekhyun holds his cock in an almost vertical position. Since its curve bends toward his stomach, that’s where more of his cum lands. You love to observe the milk trickle over the little veins of his loins, his lightly toned abs, and the perfect V shape of his pelvis. With every drop, you rub your clit to new heights and feel it become spongy. You’re so sensitive and wet that it’s harder to get your finger to the right spot, so you end up using three fingers at once.

Baekhyun glazing himself with all that luscious cum makes you want to lick him up whole. On the other hand, his oozing cock spills so much fluid that you don’t want any of it go to waste.

With the flicks of your index finger speeding up between your legs, you ask Baekhyun to stuff and thrust his cock back onto your tongue and provide you with a final wave of cum for good. He dusts over your lashes to remove the spray they took before, then diligently brings his palms around the back of your head. Baekhyun is so utterly careful and sensual in his expression that you have to groan and feel your pussy twitch. His pretty fingers fit so perfectly around the area under your high ponytail. Having his wrists ghost over your temples makes you want to come on the spot. Now that your head is softly locked safe, Baekhyun asks if he can start, earning the most eager nod.

„I won’t make you gag, I promise,“ he gives his fingers a final arrangement, laying flat on your hair.

You feel like you’re about to implode and already drive your head forward. Aided by the slip of your mouth, he pulls you onto his cock, driving in a bit more length. About a third of his cock gets in, and you feel only a slight bit of tension. Your lips close around him, but remain flexible, still. Your hand between your legs rubs faster. And faster. Your clit is begging for a second rush. By the time, your jaw has become perfectly loose and receptive, ready to take a pounding. You moan in frustration from all the suspense, and finally he begins fucking his monster dick into your skull. 

The girth stretches your lips and leaves your mouth completely stunned. Baekhyun properly angles himself into your head and showers you with complimenting little wows, then continues the speed and screwing until half of his dick pumps into your mouth. It’s pushing in and stimulates your lips with every thrust. The buzz is amazing. 

Your throat is perfectly accepting of Baekhyun’s tip. The vibrating stimulation at your tonsils sends excitement through your entire body. His cock is amazingly big, hot, and jittery. When he drills it into you with a little ‚your mouth… so soft… like cotton candy…’ under his breath, you can’t take it anymore.

When your rubs escalate and your pussy begins to contract, he blows up your mouth with an avalanche of extra sticky and flavorful cream. Unlike when he was pumping out the cum against his belly, his cock now powerfully empties in one go and overwhelms your tongue with taste. 

The portion is so huge and almost foamy. Now you’re filled double. Your leaking pussy, stuffed with his bubbling semen, and your mouth, rich with the potent vanilla taste. Your clit thumps hard with a series of twitches, about ten, eleven, twelve times, with another strong rub from your middle finger pushing it over the edge.

The load of cum bursting into your mouth is so large that your cheeks slowly bulge out a bit. Baekhyun holds his cock in place to help you keep it centered. A look at his hands alone is enough to fasten your rubs and make you feel your climax peak. Your eyes get large from the extremity of pleasure surging from your clit, having your body rock, making you yelp out and spill Baekhyun’s semen back over the pulsing curve of his dick. It’s so messy, but you don’t care.

He takes the opportunity to thrust back into your mouth in sync with the twitches of your pussy, blasting your way too impatient esophagus with more sputtering threads of hot milk. Your clit throbs even harder when you hear the wet noises your throat makes. Every thrust has you blowing out cum with stifled, slobbery gargling. Baekhyun penetrates you so well and won’t waste a milliliter of cum. It’s so thick and so good, and distributes so nicely every time he fucks it into your throat a little further. The vibration of his cock makes your tongue so swollen against the underside of his shaft and even more sensitive to how his cum feels.

Liquid satin, gliding so well down into your stomach that you wish he could penetrate, too. You slurp and gobble the last shots of cum, and enjoy Baekhyun’s thrusts feeding you his fully sperm-decorated cock. With your saliva flowing into the mix, the load gets perfectly blended and has you produce the nastiest sounds around the meaty base of his dick. You want to lap it all up, slather it all over you, bathe in it. He drenches your mouth completely. You swallow and swallow until he knows you’re feeling full and stops the flow.

You still try to suck the leftover liquid out of him until only drops remain on your tongue. A final swallow, and you lock eyes with Baekhyun who’s gently smiling and cupping your head.

„B—woah,“ you gush out, slipping your lips off his dick. You look down on your body and Baekhyun’s, finding your skins coated all sticky as if a pot of joghurt spilled all over your chests and legs.

The special request indeed leaves nothing left to be desired.

„Really incredible,“ Baekhyun says.

„Warm…,“ you lick your lips, and shake, move your tongue about to loosen it up. „And so much— Fuck!“

„Not a drop left. I’ll probably need half an hour to gather an amount like that again.“

„I want this all the time. This, this is so much fun.“

„Yes. You were really enjoying yourself. You look really beautiful.“

Probably really messy and funny with your drying lips and tousled ponytail. You have to chuckle.

„Brace yourself, Baekhyun. I hope you have enough hair ties prepared.“

Oh, it’s gonna be a ride.

After you settle your breath, Baekhyun goes about cleaning your face and neck, and bits of your chest. He has to get a third towel from the bathroom to get the job done, including rubbing himself down. As ruined as he looks, AndroTech has to send him into the fucking robo deep cleaning room or something if you keep this up.

Eventually, Baekhyun helps you up the same way he put you down on the sheets two hours ago. You coo to him, and he carries you to the bedroom softly humming. You feel a strange serenity. Protection. Baekhyun looks so sweet and calm. A warm feeling spreads across your abdomen, and you listen to your blood rush in your ears. He really got you going,. He offers a glass of water that you accept and nip at while he sorts his and your clothes, dumping all the towels into the laundry basket and switching off the living room lights afterwards.

Alongside carrying a paddle hair brush, he returns with your favorite strawberry bubblegum chapstick. He must have picked it up next to the washing machine in the bathroom. You keep a little shell-shaped metal bowl next to the basin where all your cosmetics are scattered in. How he knows that it’s your go-to lip product will remain another mystery, although you are sure he has a page-long analysis on it. 

After asking for your permission, Baekhyun applies it for you and makes sure to kiss you not once, but twice. He loosens the tie out of your hair and goes about brushing it, smoothing it. Lying down in your bed for the afterglow with the fairy lights on gets even better when Baekhyun offers his chest to lean against for dozing off.

Chapter 10: Pulling Out The Carrots

You wake up to the smell of waffles and cocoa coming from the kitchen. You sit up in bed. Feeling more gloriously fucked out than fucked up, actually. The floor, even if it’s still the exact same as before, feels different when you set your either foot on the ground. It’s not only your heel feeling at least a little better. It’s also the fact that it’s the ground of an apartment with two people in it.

Bothering to put on socks, you find that your closet has a new stack of clothes where Baekhyun normally sorts in his white vest. So Mr. Kim sent a new batch of attire for him as promised in the email you received last night. Seven sets of midnight blue, carnelian, and more white cuts of similar fabrics and varying shapes. Your closet looks strangely complemented with his clothes in it. Not to mention much tidier since he folded each and every piece.

Before you waddle to the bathroom, you check your phone and see an avalanche of shy emojis from Hwasa in your notifications. You did manage to send a little comment on the sofa before you went to bed.

„Guess whose car is fixed,“ Baekhyun sets a plate on the table. The whole kitchen sizzles and looks as if a restaurant chef just let a huge cloud of steam loose from his souffle in the oven. There’s juice, there’s blueberries, there’s syrup on the table. His smile is even brighter than it was yesterday.

„You gem!“

Falling around his neck makes Baekhyun laugh. You cling in the hug and pepper his forehead with kisses until the waffle machine bleeps.

„Dig in, princess,“ he stacks up three waffles on the plate, golden brown and drizzled with syrup.

„Sit down with me when the last one is done,“ you fork the top waffle, separating it into five hearts each. Crispy outside, vanilla-colored and juicy on the inside. Back in the day when he was still active, Gordon Ramsey couldn’t have done it any better. Baekhyun nods, now busy with a large blue bowl. He’s kept his smile and hums a little. The kitchen radio is playing in the background.

„And something else,“ he swipes the wooden spoon through the bowl. You realize what’s inside. He steps toward the table to masterfully place a generous amount of whipped cream on your stack of waffles.

„What was it?“

„I talked to Mister Lee.“

„You what?!“

With a clattering noise, your fork drops right back onto the plate. If the sweet scent in the kitchen didn’t fully wake you, then this definitely did.

„I first checked the databank as I said,“ Baekhyun puts down the bowl on the table and takes a seat opposite to you. „There was no record of him interacting with androids anywhere. He didn’t own one, nor did anyone else in his social environment or the area around here. Except you of course.“

„A—alright, and?“

Judging by Baekhyun’s picture-perfect appearance that doesn’t seem to sport a single scratch, at least Mr. Lee didn’t get out his golfing equipment then.

„I went over and met him on the porch while he was having his coffee. I introduced myself and asked about his garden.“

„His garden?“

„Mister Lee has taken up quite a bit of work with his vegetables,“ Baekhyun pours some orange juice from a jug into the chunky little glass in front of your plate. „He was busy with carrots yesterday.“

„What— What does that have to do with…?“

„He was huffing out loud because he couldn’t pull out a particularly large one.“

„That’s what I heard when we arrived?“

„Precisely you did.“ As if your jaw couldn’t hang any lower, now you’re also flooded with embarrassment.

„He was squatting right behind the large bush that blocks the view,“ Baekhyun continues. He said he didn’t even hear us arrive because he had headphones on.“

„Jesus, really?“

„I was already wondering why I didn’t notice any danger when we arrived at the house. You only heard the noise and made a conclusion. But actually, Mister Lee was in his own world.“

„Oh…“

„I helped him plug out the remaining carrots just half an hour ago. It was really easy. He gave me a few potatoes from his garden, too. I’ll make you fries for lunch today.“

„You really hear what you want to hear,“ you say to yourself out loud and start chugging the orange juice. Maybe moving into the underground tunnel system you’re planning to build for yourself to disappear from the face of this earth is still a very good idea.

„And don’t worry. I didn’t tell Mister Lee about your reaction. He doesn’t know about the misunderstanding. I just said I heard him shout in his garden and he readily explained what he was working on.“

„That was very sensible, Baekhyun. So I was accusing him for nothing, then.“

You bury your face in your palms. Goddammit.

„Mister Lee is as harmless and unbiased against bots as this waffle,“ Baekhyun points squarely at your plate.

„And I thought this would end up in a fistfight.“

„The funny thing is. Mister Lee said he used to be a boxer back in the 1980s and had muscles like I do. He was really amused how fast I was pulling out the carrots.“

„B-Boxer? Was he trying to intimidate you?“

Maybe you need to muster your rusty karate skills again. Who knows what Mister Lee was really up to. You didn’t know much about his family, but you’re sure a more detailed Internet search would reveal that his grandfather was indeed called Bruce.

„No worries,“ Baekhyun picks up the jar again, re-filling your juice. „He called me a dapper young gentleman and offered we could come over to have carrot cake at 4 PM. He says the house is a little empty since his grandkids moved to San Francisco. Mrs Lee is also looking forward to congratulate us. If you’re free after work?“

„They… invited us?!“

„In the most friendly way possible. And their potatoes are really huge. That’s going to be a lot of fries.“

Looks like Baekhyun has found your neighbors to be much more trustable than your paranoid robot gf brain. Before you can really deliberate whether to say yes or no, your intuition does the work for you and makes your strained jaw blab the words.

„I’m free, sure I—“

The doorbell rings twice, ripping you right out of your thought flow.

Baekhyun swiftly gets up. You already expect Hyuna or Chen with the latest gossip in town about your universally heard late-night moaning noises.

Setting up what feels like another Guinness world record, you stress-eat two waffles at once before readying yourself to get up, too. Another loss of face right around the corner but at least you have something in your stomach and Baekhyun’s beautifully cooked meal isn’t getting cold which would be the ultimate heresy.

To your relief, however, Baekhyun returns with—

A post box.

„Delivery for my princess,“ he chirps from the kitchen entrance. „Wow, it’s really heavy, too!“

„God, I’m a mess,“ you shake your head at yourself.

„Pardon?“

„Nothing, I just said it’s actually for the prince, you know.“

Your castle might be an outdated yellow house, but it has a creaking palace door and splendid clothing parlor. And pancakes for dinner. And the prince has a really big dick, so.

„For— me?“

„Yes, yes. If Mr. Kim can send you something nice, I can do that, too.“

There goes another portion of your salary but fuck it. You act as if you were puffing yourself up a little, with flared nostrils and a dandy eyebrow wiggle. A laughing Baekhyun uses his mere nails to loosen the tape from the packaging in one smooth go, and also doesn’t seem to extend any efforts prying it open. You’ve never seen anyone open a box this elegantly.

„That’s the kind of rivalry between creators I didn’t expect,“ he says. „I hope you’ll like the new clothes, by the way.“

You’re starting to get the hang of this whole bots-and-boredom thing. Keeping Baekhyun on his toes is paradoxically both less and more of a big deal than you thought but you’re working it out.

A note of calling your declared friendly rival Mr. Kim to ask him for a few more pointers is what you decidedly jot down on your own mental to-do list. He explicitly said that Baekhyun can very well explain himself, but getting some more insider knowledge to ambush Baekhyun with surprises doesn’t hurt. And whatever this kinetic learning thing is, you certainly need some more ideas from the source, too.

„You can model them after we return from eating cake.“

„Nothing I’ll love more,“ Baekhyun removes some of the crumpled up paper cushioning inside. Since the box is fairly big, it takes a bit until the content becomes apparent to him. Once he realizes what it is, Baekhyun’s eyes light up and he starts jumping up and down through the kitchen.

„It’s a pink clouds machine!“

boyfriend bot on ao3

NOTE: oof, that’s a big ole fic :D i hope you liked it. talk to me about baek 😭❤️ 

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2020. all rights reserved. reposts prohibited. portrayals are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun #exo smut #exo fanfic #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun au #boyfriend bot #exo sci fi au #exo au #future au

[927roses-and-stuff]

Miracles in Gotham: Chapter 4: Unwelcome Discoveries (Part 2)

Hey, guys! This fic is inspired by @ozmav’s Maribat AU. Shoutout to @mystery-5-5 for brainstorming ideas with me for this fic. 

Woah, updating twice within the same week? It’s like I finally learned how to manage my time!... Not. Honestly this is my stress relief right now because I have two papers due tomorrow and those subjects are not as much fun to write about. On another note, I just finished my midterm and passed! So, yay! Anyways, hope you guys enjoy and have a little bit of luck come your way too. 

Btw, after you’re reading this can you guys please tell me if I’m writing too much angst after reading through this chapter??? I am writing what I think would logically happen in this type of scenario, but I also tend to be really pessimistic. 

If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham or ask to be added to the tag list.

Tag list: @northernbluetongue @zerotosiki @spicybelladonna @my-name-is-michell @legendaryneckjudgestudent @lokiifriggasonn

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By the time Marinette entered the classroom, her mood had lifted considerably from moments before. She sat at her usual seat and prepared her things as the rest of the class filed in. Her mood was slightly disrupted by a disgruntled Lila who roughly swept past her, but otherwise it seemed like today was finally going to be a normal day; well as normal as one could get in Paris, anyway. As the last remaining students settled in, Mme. Bustier walked into the room with a huge stack of papers. She settled them on her desk before addressing everyone. 

“Good morning, everyone!” 

“Good morning, Mme. Bustier,” the class parroted back in varying degrees of enthusiasm. Mme. Bustier smiled in satisfaction. 

“Now before we begin our usual morning exercise, I would like to call up Marinette and Alya to help me distribute these packages for you. I will give you a few minutes to look through it before discussing it further,” she said, as she split the pile of papers in half and handed one half to each girl. Marinette’s eyes bulged. The stack of papers consisted of multiple stacks of paper about twenty pages long each. She and Alya shared a glance before obeying Mme. Bustier’s orders. She started at Chloe and Sabrina’s desk and ended with Rose and Juleka at the back. Then, she returned to her seat, analyzing the stack of papers in front of her.

“Wayne Enterprises Sponsored International Connections Program in Gotham City, USA Information Package and Permission Forms”

After that was a bunch of paragraphs that Marinette skimmed over. The first few pages detailed what the program was for, their accommodations, costs for travel along with what necessary documents were needed, and all sorts of other details that made Marinette dizzy. The next few pages after that outlined the risks specific to Gotham and resources that students and their guardians were strongly recommended to review before even stepping onto Gotham grounds. The pages after that were permission forms asking for the legal guardian’s consent, her personal info, insurance, etc. 

Needless to say, the whole class was baffled. In fact, some of them were downright lost, considering they didn’t even know a Gotham City existed in the US. Or what Wayne Enterprises was supposed to be and why they were offered to join this program. Only Max and Alya seemed excited at the prospect of the field trip, judging on the excited murmurs that Marinette could hear. She picked up on the word “vigilantes” from Alya and “greatest detective” from somewhere behind her  and suddenly it all made sense. She wasn’t sure if she heard correctly, but she was pretty sure she heard Lila talking in self-assured whispers to the confused people around her. She held in a scoff, before returning her attention to the papers in front of her.

Marinette frowned, closing the package and pushing it away from her. She waited for Mme. Bustier to explain the details more clearly. Unfortunately, Marinette already knew there was no way she could go, at least, not without risking Paris’ safety. 

“If you have finished, please bring your attention to me. I will explain everything. Please leave all your questions till the end,” Mme. Bustier said, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “As you may have noticed, this opportunity has been given to us by M. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises. He has chosen our school as a trial school for a program that he wants to implement next year to help expand student achievement nationally and internationally. As well as to encourage young students like yourselves to make connections with students from other countries. In fact, I believe it was Mayor Bourgeois who sent M. Wayne a glowing recommendation of our class from fundraising events to everyone’s extracurriculars and achievements! I am so proud of all of you.” 

At the front, Chloé straightened in her seat and smiled smugly. Beside her, Sabrina was looking from Chloé to the stack of papers in front of her in disbelief. The class was in a similar state of shock, and soon whispers erupted excitedly from most people in the class before Mme. Bustier silenced them all. 

Oh, that made sense, Marinette thought. Despite the sense of pride she felt for herself and the class (their hard work deserved some reward after all, especially with all the akumas recently), she knew Mayor Bourgeois was not the type of person to recommend just anyone from the goodness of his heart. He had recommended this class to M. Wayne for Chloé’s own success. Which was a bit of a shame, Marinette thought, since Chloé had more than enough resources to find opportunities for herself. However, she couldn’t help but feel grateful to whatever deity convinced Mayor Bourgeois to include the class, anyway.

“Anyways,” Mme. Bustier said when the class had calmed down. “I expect everyone here to listen to what I have to say and take it to heart.” Mme. Bustier’s voice settled lowered, her tone becoming dangerously low. “This program is a huge opportunity however, Gotham City is full of many risks and I am making it absolutely mandatory for everyone in this room, as well as their legal guardians to use the sources outlined under “Risks to be Aware of While in Gotham City” Section. While M. Wayne has assured the supervisors for the trip as well as M. Damocles that our accommodations will be in Gotham’s financial district, there is still going to be danger; more than what we’re accustomed to in Paris.” 

At the end of her spiel, the atmosphere in the room weighed heavy on Marinette. She had never seen Mme. Bustier so strict before, her teal eyes piercing through everybody in the room. 

“Um, Mme. Bustier?” Lila spoke and stood up. The class swivelled their attention to her. “I’ve actually been to Gotham City and have met M. Wayne before for a humanitarian project. I’m sure M. Wayne will make sure to do everything to keep us safe.” 

“That may be, Lila, but I assure you, these instructions were given to me by M. Wayne himself via email. He will do his best to make sure our trip is as safe as possible, but that means we need to do our part in keeping ourselves safe.” 

Blinking owlishly, Lila faltered. “Yes, of course, Mme. Bustier.” She forced a smile. “I was just saying so because it would be an absolute shame for anyone to miss out on such a great opportunity!” 

Marinette rolled her eyes. Sure, she thought. That, or she just wanted everyone to know that she knew Bruce Wayne- whoever he was- and be impressed.  At least she didn’t claim that she saved Bruce Wayne’s horse or something similar. Or claim to be friends with the vigilantes Alya had been fangirling about earlier.

The rest of the morning was spent going through the rest of the package from how to ensure that everyone had their visa, to what they should bring and how they should behave while they were there. Marinette frowned; there was something off about this trip. She wasn’t sure whether it was the duration of the trip ( which had a minimum of one month, with extra time being granted in case of any future interruptions), or why an American company would choose this specific French class for the trial program instead of a class in say, London, or any other country that spoke English. It seemed that Max was thinking along the same lines as her, because the moment Mme. Bustier finished, his hand shot up in the air. 

“Yes, Max?” 

“I have a few questions concerning this program. Why is there a minimum allotted time for our stay? Would our parents need to agree to any extension of staying? And how are we supposed to communicate or even understand anything when most of us don’t speak English?” 

Mme. Bustier smiled. “Those are all excellent questions. As I have said before, Gotham City is dangerous so there might be trips that are part of the program that will need to be rescheduled or we may need to take a later flight in case anything happens at the airport. Therefore, we need to be aware that our trip may last longer than the required month. Next, while we are there, you will be put in remedial English classes along with any classes you choose to take at Gotham Academy for the duration of our stay. This way, you will have the opportunity to brush up your English skills.” 

Alya was quick to stand up and shoot her hand in the air. “Will we be going on any field trips outside of Gotham City? Like Metropolis?” 

Mme. Bustier stared at her. “Maybe, but as for now, all details of the trip are included in the itinerary in your packages.” 

Alya deflated, slumping in her seat. Marinette turned toward her and whispered, “What’s so special about Metropolis?”

She perked up and whispered excitedly. “It’s the home of Superman, Booster Gold and Blue Beetle!” Marinette had absolutely no clue -nor any real desire to know- who those were. It didn’t seem to matter as Alya rambled on. “And, and, and, it’s also the home to Pulwitzer prize-winning journalist Lois freaking Lane  from the Daily Planet. I love her. I think I told Nino once that I would leave him for her (Nino gave an affirmative “uh huh”) if the opportunity ever arose and he said he wouldn’t mind as long as he could be with Superman. But that’s alright because Lois Lane is a badass and I love her; she is a genius-” 

“Ahem.” Mme. Bustier coughed. Alya stopped mid-speech and laughed sheepishly. Her voice must have been louder than she realized.

“Sorry Mme. Bustier.” 

“No problem, Alya. Just keep your excitement until the end of class.” She smiled softly. “And, I will see if I can mention your love for Lois Lane to M. Wayne.”

The way Alya froze in her seat, her jaw unhinged and wide eyes, Marinette wasn’t sure if she was in normal shock or if Mme. Bustier had actually managed to kill her with words. She chuckled before nudging her side to bring her back to reality. Shaken out of her stupor, Alya thanked Mme. Bustier and sat in her seat. Her smile was record-breakingly wide and she seemed to vibrate in place. 

Letting out a giggle, Marinette was ecstatic for her best friend. Sure, she may not know the superheroes she mentioned, and still wasn’t too sure of who Lois Lane was, but Alya looked like she won a million euros and meeting her idol would be a great opportunity. As Alya continued to freak out however, she shared glances between Adrien and Nino in front of her and had to stifle their laughter. 

Maybe if Alya did meet Lois Lane and Superman, and Gotham vigilantes, she could share her excitement with Marinette when the class returned to Paris. 

The rest of the day had been pretty normal, with the addition of excitement in the air as her class discussed the trip to Gotham. Students from other classes seemed to be split between being jealous of the class for the opportunity, or relieved at the foreseeable absence of what they dubbed as “the akuma class.” Students from her own class huddled together in their small groups, already planning on what they wanted to do, what they thought Gotham would be like, and how they were excited to meet any cute Americans. Marinette couldn’t help but let their excitement affect her as well. Not only was going abroad always a cause for excitement but surely it was a relief to be able to leave Paris in the foreseeable future. It was exhausting being targeted by stupid demonic butterflies and sucking up your feelings like they didn’t exist (Unless you were Lila, then you cried and let everyone worry about your emotional state and any akumas that could come from it, that is). However, Marinette had a feeling that this trip to Gotham would stir a lot of drama within their class, when everyone had the chance to reveal any negative emotions without the consequence of an akuma around. 

Well, that was that, she supposed as she went home for the lunch break, the permission forms tucked under her arm. She had been half tempted to chuck them in a bin somewhere, but knew her parents would be pissed if she didn’t tell them. Thus, she entered the bakery and once there was a lull in the orders, asked both of her parents if they could talk. 

She led them upstairs in the living room and placed the bundle of papers on the dining room table. Marinette briefly explained the program and let them read through the package carefully. By the time they finished, Marinette only had an hour left of her two hour lunch break. 

“So?” She prompted, trying to gauge their reactions. 

Her maman and dad exchanged a glance and nodded, before turning back to her. 

“You’re definitely going.” Her maman said, putting the package back on the table. 

Marinette’s jaw dropped. “Wait, Maman, don’t you need some more time to think about this?” She couldn’t believe it. She should’ve chucked the package in a bin. 

Her dad frowned. “Marinette, we don’t like it either, and it’s not...ideal, but we believe it’s for the best if you stay away from Paris for now.” 

Marinette’s eyes widened, glancing back and forth between her maman and dad. “What do you mean?” 

Her maman sighed. “Ever since we almost got akumatized on the day you were expelled, me and your father have been talking, and well, Paris isn’t safe for you anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.”

Her dad nodded in agreement. Marinette felt befuddled. She felt like she definitely lost a few brain cells. 

“Gotham City isn’t safe either, Maman, Papa. Didn’t you see the risks listed?” Marinette asked, grabbing the package and desperately scouring through the package. This was so not happening; she couldn’t afford to leave Paris. 

She heard a sigh coming from her maman, before her hands settled on Marinette’s own. Marinette glanced up to stare at her maman’s cloudy grey gaze. “It’s definitely not ideal, and we wish you were somewhere safer, but I trust that M. Wayne and the school administration would never have allowed this to happen if it was too risky.” 

“But-” 

“And, “ her dad interjected before Marinette could continue. “If this hadn’t come up, we would’ve sent you away with your grandmère and you would’ve had to pause your schooling and travel around Europe with her until it was safe to come back home.” 

“Or,” her maman added, giving Tom a small glare. “We would’ve sent you to Shanghai with your uncle Wang. At least this way, you can continue with your schooling and still be with your friends under the maximum amount of protection.” 

Her breathing turned heavy at her words. Her heart was beating faster, was it just her imagination or did it feel like the room was stuffier than before. She didn’t understand. Why now? They had been planning to send her away. She pressed a hand against her chest to try to control her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It had been a calming trick Master Fu had shown her when she had been at the edge of getting an anxiety attack. 

Not for the first time, Marinette wished she could just tell her parents she was Ladybug. Then again, maybe that would’ve motivated them further to get her out of Paris. 

No, her maman and papa loved her. They just wanted her to be safe. They weren’t aware she’d been taking care of Paris all this time. 

She felt her maman’s warm presence beside her as her papa engulfed them both. She barely registered the apologies her maman whispered as she stroked her hair. She was too busy pushing down all her anxieties. 

She couldn’t risk getting akumatized. 

Her lunch break had been long over by the time she had calmed down. By then, both her maman and papa had returned to the bakery with promises that they would talk about this tomorrow and that they would call the school to report her absence for the afternoon. 

Marinette barely registered them as she trudged up to her bedroom. Then her bathroom. Shower. Dry hair. Change of clothes. Bed. 

She didn’t know what to feel. She didn’t notice the kwamis flying towards her and snuggling with her, in her hair and the crook of her neck. 

“What do I do?” She asked listlessly. 

Tikki floated to her field of vision. “Marinette. It’ll be okay.” 

“How?” 

Tikki didn’t give an answer. She sighed and sat up. She was going to write in her diary until she read her last entry. Right. Marianne. She sighed. She’d call her and then go on an early patrol of the city. 

She didn’t want the helplessness that came with being Marinette.

Taking a long, deep breath, she grabbed her tablet and called Marianne through video chat. Surprisingly, despite her age, Marianne adapted to technology pretty well. She and Master Fu were living somewhere in London, enjoying their retirement together. Marinette liked to keep up with them regularly, since she missed Master Fu, and their present now gave her hope for her own future. 

She waited for the screen to load, and smiled widely when Marianne’s face entered the screen. She looked like she had just gotten home; the makeup she was wearing was starting to fade, and her hair was tied in a slightly wet updo bun.

“Marinette! Bonjour! How have you been, darling?” Marinette noticed that she had adopted a slight British accent when she talked. It hadn’t been that long since they last talked, so maybe her and Master Fu had been going out more. 

“Bonjour Marianne.” She softly waved her hand. “Everything’s fine actually. How are you and Master Fu?”

Marianne smiled, re-focusing her own screen so Marinette could see her more clearly. “Everything’s been great. Wang has taken to liking massage parlors again. We just visited one yesterday.” 

Marinette smiled fondly. She could feel Wayzz’s presence on her shoulder as he listened intently. If anyone had been more devastated than Marinette about Master Fu’s amnesia and departure, it would have been Wayzz. It had taken a long time for him to open up to Marinette and the other kwamis, often leaving the Oolong tea she brewed for him to run cold. Fortunately, he was getting better and opening up more. Their love for Master Fu had been what helped he and Marinette bond together as a new Guardian and kwami. 

“I’m glad. It seems like you two are really happy.” 

Marianne squinted her eyes; she could feel her gaze through the screen. “Why did you call, Marinette?”

“I, ah, had a question about the Miraculous actually. I was wondering if your time with Master Fu before had given you any insight to them.” 

Marianne frowned slightly, rubbing her chin. “I’ve picked up on a few things, but Wang was really secretive. I’ll give it my best shot for you, dear.” 

“Thank you! I was wondering if you had any clue as to why the Miracle Box turned into an egg when Master Fu renounced his Guardianship to me?” 

Marianne sighed. “I wish I could tell you, but I’m as lost as you are.” 

She deflated. Her hands gripped the tablet tighter. She knew there was only a miniscule chance that Marianne would’ve known anything, but a tiny part of her had hoped that luck would be on her side. Exhaling, Marinette thanked her. 

On the other side of the screen, Marianne’s frown deepened. As happy as she was with Wang Fu, it was cruel for destiny to hand such a young child the enormous and numerous responsibilities that the Guardian had to bear. She glanced at Wang, who was sleeping on the couch contentedly. She was happy they could now spend the rest of their lives together in peace when most of it had been previously spent in war. 

Speaking of war… 

“Marinette, darling! I think I might know of someone who can help you!” 

Marinette perked up. She had been about to change the subject or close the call, but maybe she had a bit of luck on her side after all. 

“Who?” 

“During the war, when Wang and I escaped to Paris, we were aided by someone who would become one of our closest friends. When he was recruited to battle in the war, he was very young, so Wang had lent him the Snake Miraculous for its powers of Intuition, at least until the war was over.” 

Marinette felt Wayzz stiffen on her shoulder. 

“She doesn’t mean…”

“Unfortunately,” Marianne continued. “When he returned home, he had an argument with Wang and almost didn’t return the Miraculous. It was only a month later that he left it on our doorstep. We haven’t heard from him since, but maybe he might know something. He was always a genius and intuitive beyond his years.” 

Marinette frowned. “Do you know where he might be now?” 

“His name is Alfred Pennyworth. He mentioned once that his family had a tradition of serving a family called the Waynes.” 

Marinette’s frown deepened. There was the name Wayne again. Which meant Gotham. It felt like the universe really wanted her to go there. She sighed. At least she’d have an objective while she was there- if she did go in the first place. She smiled again, once she saw Marianne’s worried stare. 

“Thank you so much, Marianne. I need to go now and plan what to do. I hope you and Master Fu stay well.” 

Marianne smiled. “You too, Marinette. Don’t hesitate to call me for anything, dear.” 

She merely nodded, and they both logged off. She set aside her tablet and turned to face Sass, who was already in front of her. 

“Tell me everything you know about this Alfred Pennyworth and your time with him, Sass. I need to know if he can help before considering everything.” 

The snake kwami merely nodded. “Of course, my Guardian.”

#and of course by universe i mean me #miraclesingotham #mlb x dc #maribat au #maribat #yall im really gonna add trauma to this already traumatized butler huh #i am so sorry #this arc was not supposed to be three chapters long #even i want them to go to gotham already but the set up ugh #ml x dc

[sazorak]

Every Game I Played in 2020, Ranked

2020. Boy, what a garbo year huh? Didn't actually play that many games this year all-in-all. Happens! My backlog is getting pretty big, but I just find it hard to focus on games when I could be working on something. Or put off working on something, as it may happen to be at times.

My arbitrary decision from years ago to only attach a numbered ranking to same-year releases is getting increasingly silly, especially given my propensity to wait on playing games until I’m in the right mood, but whatever. That order matters than the dumb numerical numbering anyway.

2015 | 2016 | 2017 | 2018 | 2019

Later Alligator – 2019 – Steam – ★★

The style of this game is very cute, and the jokes are funny enough. But… ok, look, I’m not one to be precious about what is or isn’t a game. But this really isn’t a game. It’s a series of disconnected, unrelated challenges clipped from Atari Free Mini Game Collection 100, wrapped in a very non-interactive adventure-game. It’s cute, it’s kind of sweet, but it’s dull. Dull dull dull. There’s a pointless, mandatory sliding block puzzle early on that infuriated me by its mere existence. Them giving the ability to skip it because “wow you’re bad at this huh”, which, while accurate, also just sold the whole point meaningless of the “““interactive experience”””.

Also: when a huge part of your game is WOW WE ANIMATED EVERYONE REALLY GOOD, text boxes that reveal word-by-word, far away from the animations that occur when said characters talk? Kind of stinks!

8. Carrion – 2020 – Steam – ★★

What Carrion does well— the whole “You’re controlling The Thing and just rippin’ people apart!” shtick— is really neat. They made that bootleg The Thing animate real-ass good.

The actual game as a whole though? Kind of garbage. Imagine a Metroidvania with zero actual exploration, where every opportunity you have to venture off the path instead results in immediate railroading with constant, utterly inexplicable one-way pipes. It’s not that it’s linear, it’s that it actively slaps you when you attempt to explore. It’s very frustrating! Add the fact that the tentacle-monster-shtick makes challenging to actually, y’know, move around and control all your bits…  the only reason I finished the game was due to foreknowledge of its extreme brevity.

I think if the game were more open and less obsessed with constantly handing out upgrades, as well as having less of a focus on pure combat, I think I’d have enjoyed it more.

SD Gundam G Generation Cross Rays – 2019 – Steam – ★★

It is well documented at this point that I am both an active Gundam fan, and as well as an on-again-off-again tactical RPG aficionado. A SD Gundam game appearing on Steam with a good English translation and localization is… exciting, to say the least. That said, I have never had much context for this game series beyond the basic facts that the combat tended to be pretty well animated CG, and that it’s vaguely similar to Super Robot Wars. Turns out… it’s really different from SRW? I dunno how the rest of the series fairs, but Cross Rays is weird as hell.

For one, there’s zero tutorialization at all. None. Almost all of what I’m going to explain here is me figuring stuff out by trial and error, or by reading junk online. Gundam is insanely popular, you’d think they’d be interested in explaining how it all works, but… nope. Even Super Robot Wars has multi-level introductory bits for new folks to show them the rope these days.

So: Cross Rays is a tactical RPG where you can playthrough the storyline of various Gundam AUs. You can play through them in any order. These playthroughs are fairly literal translations of the stories. You take control of the lead mecha from those series, fight enemy mobile suits that show up in SRW-like tactical RPG combat, until all reinforcements cease. Pretty straight forward. There are occasionally mission variants like “prevent enemies from reaching X” or “prevent enemies from destroying Y”, but even those can be just reduced to “kill everything very quickly please.”

But here’s the thing: while there is a story progression, the characters in the story itself actually have no character progression. These characters and mecha are actually considered guests, despite it being ostensibly their story. Instead, you are able to field “permanent” mecha and pilots of your own choosing, which do have progressions. There is no plot justification for this or anything like it. The game does not recognize that it’s weird that during Iron-Blooded Orphans intro where nobody knows what a Gundam even is, you can have 25 Gundams show up at once and just fire lasers at everything. That’s because this game is actually about repeatedly grinding the same set of missions over and over.

Pilots are recruited by completing certain in-mission requirements. Mecha are acquired by either by getting enough kills with the progression-less “guest” mecha, combining mecha you already have gashopon-style, completing certain quests, or by leveling up mecha and then “evolving them”. This is the actual core of the game.

SD Gundam G Generation Cross Rays is basically Disgaea, it turns out? You’re grinding story missions at various difficulty levels in order to complete missions, try to recruit specific pilots, equip them with stats and levels to make them stronger, and then hitting mecha together in a sort of quasi-SMT fusion system until you get all the powerful mobile suits you desire.

The combat itself is kind of… bland? There’s a lot of systems, but they mostly seem in service of making an already easy game easier, or burning through tedium. There are four different difficulty modes, because there’s not actually that many different missions you can play through. The expectation is you’ll just work your way through every story beat while ramping the difficulty up over time to where the “guest” mecha would not be able to handle on their own. In fact, letting the story mecha act out the story beats is actually bad after a point, unless you’re still trying to get those lead mobile suits, or if you’re trying to complete some mission requirement in order to recruit Named Wing Grunt Pilot #246.

There is something to the notion of “I want to get N and N and N and N on a team, piloting weird but powerful mobile suits, and just solo every Gundam AU in a row,” but the whole premise seems kind of against purpose. Why bother recreating story beats at all, then? It’s not like the game even acknowledges any of that going on.

If the point is that I’m supposed to be, like in other grind-heavy tactical RPGs, breaking the systems to my own end in order to proceed… why not make the missions you play challenges focused towards that? The story progression literally only exists to facilitate the mission-based unlock conditions, which makes all the energy put into making them JUST LIKE THE ANIME really damn pointless.  

I like tactical RPGs, I like breaking RPG systems so as to beat hard challenges (I beat all the insanely hard extra bosses in FFXII for crying out loud), I looooove Gundam. I should like this. But I don’t really have the “god, I NEED TO FILL THIS LIST” gene that some folks have… except as an excuse to continue to engage in gameplay I enjoy. The gameplay here seems in service of the collection, rather than the way around.

7. Pokemon Sword: The Isle of Armor – 2020 – ★★★

Pokemon’s first foray into actually doing DLC is… a mixed bag. As a positive, they’ve improved the Wild Area concept I liked from the main game, and even brought back buddy Pokemon walking behind you. That’s neat. On the other hand: the actual progression in it is completable in like an hour, it doesn’t scale with you, so you’re bound to be over leveled for it, and all the raid stuff, while still conceptually neat, is just as flawed as in the base game. And so, you’re just left with even more new Pokemon to RNG grind on to continue to catch-them-all. Nah, I’m good.

Astral Chain – 2019 – Switch – ★★★

Platinum knows how to make good character action games. They’ve made a bunch of them. Bayonetta, Nier: Automata, Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance. They also know how to make some kind of mediocre character action games. Transformers: Devastation, Wonderful 101, their various shovelware character action games like Korra. Astral Chain falls somewhere in the middle, I guess?

Astral Chain has all the production of their good games. It has some stylish, cool action. It has a neat core mechanical idea, in that it’s essentially a two-character action game where you control both characters at once. It has a lot of the old mechanics from some of their best games brought in; witch-time last second dodging from Bayonetta, Nier’s shooting-and-slashing combination, the Zandatsu mechanic from Metal Gear Rising, even Wonderful 101’s multi-unit shenanigans. The setting is different, and there’s some neat world flavor all in all.

But, of all games I’ve played over the past few years, Astral Chain made me more vividly angry than any other. It’s not that it’s too hard— far from it, really, I found its combat incredibly mashy. No, the problem is that it has so many shitty mechanics slathered on that it become a chore to get to the “good bits”.

Why would you put forced stealth sequences in your character action game, especially when your movement controls are not suited for it?

Why the HELL would you put platforming sections in your character action game, constantly, especially when your stupid ghost buddy can accidentally yank you off the edge, your auto-combos can just throw you off the edge, or literally anything can knock you off the edge and make you lose life?

Why would you put so many constant excuses into the world to force me use the digital sensor in the game, that also makes it miserable to walk around while using it?

WHO THE LIVING FUCK THINKS THESE SHITTY BOX BALANCING MINI-GAMES ARE FUN???

These games are supposed to encourage me to perfect everything, right? Why keep putting fucking fights you need to complete in order to get an S rank behind backtracking, or Legions I don’t have yet? That isn’t adding replayability, that’s just wasting my time. There are even in-level missions that have fail conditions that you never even know about. Surprise!!! A lot of them involve chasing after guys and catching them with your chain, which is really obnoxious to do!!!! SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The story is just Bad Evangelion, straight up. Every story beat from Evangelion is here, executed worse. They also make your character have a twin just so they can have a character who can talk and feel emotions, because your boring-ass protagonist is stuck being an emotionless audience cipher. Cool!!!

Tetris Effect – 2018 – Origin – ★★★

It’s drugs Tetris. I personally don’t use, or have synesthesia for that matter. I imagine this game is better if you do. It’s an enjoyable enough experience but it feels incredibly slight for what I was expecting from it, or even compared to something like Lumines, which has tons of replayability by way of its difficulty. Tetris just isn’t that hard, unless you’re forcing yourself to do weird shit to get points. I WILL NEVER LEARN HOW TO T-SPIN. Never.

Castlevania Anniversary Collection – 2019 – Steam – ★★★

Kind of an unremarkable Castlevania collection. Neat that it has an official translation of Kid Dracula in there, but also… look, I prefer Metroidvania Castlevanias, OK?

6. Spelunky 2 – 2020 – Steam – ★★★

I’m not entirely sure why this doesn’t click for me where Spelunky 1 did. More annoying intro levels? Too many fiddly requirements for different ending-progression? Gameplay additions that just make things more annoying? Spelunky 1 was hard, but there was a kind straight-forwardness to it, even with its weird secrets, that made it much easier to grok and continue banging your head against. I’m just not having as much fun with this. Difficulty should be challenging, not a hassle.

5. Stellaris: Federations – 2020 – Steam – ★★★

This is the year that Stellaris just broke for me.

Federations itself is a good DLC; it adds some really interesting mechanics tied to various types of multi-national unions (the titular federations, as well as the Space UN), as well as the addition of unique “origins” that allow you to further specialize your gameplay. The origins in particular are a great addition that allows more specialization and roleplay.

I’m just tired of the sheer amount of busywork Stellaris forces you to do. Every DLC adds more junk you need to keep an eye on, and the fact that the AI doesn’t even bother with it (compensating with copious economy boosts in order to keep up) makes the whole thing frustrating. It’s like playing fetch with yourself; you just get tired of chasing after your own ball after a point.

I have to wonder if they’re pivoting towards a notional Stellaris 2 at this point? Might not be a bad idea for them, though it is weird with all they talked up adding more origins when Federations came out.  

4. GranBlue Fantasy Versus – 2020 – Steam – ★★★★

This is probably the fighting game I got most into over the past few years. There’s just this nice, almost Street Fighter-esque ease of execution to the controls, and that Arc Systems Works 3D-as-2D style continues to just do work. I don’t give a single shit about GranBlue Fantasy (frankly, I think I’d enjoy this game more if it wasn’t attached to a property) but the characters are fun enough to play and look at.

The big problem here is two things: no crossplay, and no rollback netcode. In the span of a month, this game became a total ghost town on PC, and it doesn’t sound like PS4 faired that much better. 

Ring Fit Adventure – 2019 – Switch – ★★★★

I’ve fallen on-and-off this game all year. At its heart: it works, it’s a fun exercise game. I don’t think it really feels like a “game” (in the sense that I’m not really coming to it for riveting gameplay or anything) as much as just a guided exercise experience, but… that’s fine? The in-game story is kind of flat, but funny in the fact of it existing at all. Buff Nicol Bolas and all.

XCOM 2: War of the Chosen – 2017 – Steam – ★★★★

XCOM2: War of the Chosen is a great answer to what XCOM2 struggled with. As I discussed back in 2016 (Jesus Christ), XCOM2 tried to push against player’s worst instincts by incentivizing them to keep being aggressive through a whole bunch of timers— which, kind of just weren’t fun given how much accidentally walking into an ambush could “ruin” dozens of hours of play. War of the Chosen dials that back in some intelligent ways, by instead making the encounter designs themselves, as well as much more grab-and-bail mission types, encourage players to push ahead instead. Smart!

The addition of the Chosen makes the game feel more alive, and they really do make missions harder— particularly early on. But they’ve somehow accidentally fell into the hole, where XCOM just… isn’t that hard? Early on it’s challenging, particularly with the resource restrictions and all. But they keep giving you more and more options (that aren’t especially meaningful choices) that make your team more and more powerful, without increasing the strength of the enemy as time goes on. By the five-hour mark, you basically know if you’re going to steam roll the game or not.

The amount of additional character and variety in the gameplay is great, I just wish it had a more challenging difficulty curve. Maybe make the meta-layer of when enemies show up more targeted to where players are at. If a player is doing well, ramp up the difficulty, if they’re struggling, pull it back a bit. I should always feel like I’m just barely keeping ahead with XCOM, not like I’m bored. And by the end of War of the Chosen, I was kind of getting bored, really. Oh well.

3. Animal Crossing: New Horizons – 2020 – Switch – ★★★★

This is probably the video game that I spent the most time with hours-wise this year. I’m not entirely sure why? It’s a nice evolution of New Leaf, in that the crafting, environment shaping, and general quality-of-life improvements made are quite nice. There’s clearly been some thought on how people play these games, and ways to make the experience less frustrating.

… and yet, they kept so much tedium in the game. Like yes, the schedule stretching is the point, I get it. As someone who for some reason decided not to play with the clock, I only just recently finished the fish, fossils, and insects for the museum. But there’s just so many weird, little things that just make it hard to keep coming back to it. It’s like… to what end? When I’ve unlocked everything, and basically seen the entirety of the item list at this point, and the holiday events all being the game meaningless collectathons…. Why? I’m not going to try completing the collection; the museum stuff is about my limit, really (and even the paintings I can probably pass on).

I guess even an idealized, digital representation of a quasi-domestic life has the spiritual emptiness of consumerism-for-consumerism sake. Thanks???

Hypnospace Outlaw – 2019 – Steam – ★★★★

I grew up on the internet of the early 00s. I had an AngelFire website, mostly consisting of shitty sprite webcomics and hosted Gundam pics. I remember when Google wasn’t really a thing and you would heavily rely on website compilation sites like the Anime Web Turnpike in order to find anything of value online. It was weird, it was wild. It was exciting!

The internet seemed so different back then. There was a ton of garbage online, but also, like… there was a sense of optimism to it. Folks were shitty, there was plenty of bad stuff online, but it felt so disconnected from the fabric of the physicality of real-life that it was at the same time a perfect escape.

I was young when I first got “online”, something like 12. I remember having this notion that the internet was going to be this great equalizer, that it had infinite potential to change how people behave and interact. Boy, huh.

Hypnospace Outlaw is essentially a splendid alternate universe GeoCities recreation, where you’re a volunteer moderator of a grouping of websites on HypnOS, an internet-analog you access while you are sleep. At the surface level, it’s mostly about poking around the weird alternate-historical version of the internet they created, full of kids feuding, bizarre historical divergences, and plenty of amazing bespoke weirdness. All of this is great; there’s an incredible amount of content that’s just great to poke at, listen to, and explore.

Below the surface, there’s also a rolling plotline about the ethics of this industry-owned platform, those who run it, and the way corporations handle new technology, new platforms, and emerging digital societies. There’s a late game turn that’s pretty damn affecting. And as someone who has moderator his share of internet forums in his time, trying to balance ‘do it for the community’ and what your ostensible ‘bosses’ require of you, it was kind of a weird throwback in more ways than one.

Minecraft – 2011 – PC – ★★★★★

Turns out, Minecraft is really as good still who knew??? Started playing a bunch more of it this year due to Giant Bomb deciding to do so, and yeah: still good!

2. Hades – 2020 – Steam – ★★★★★

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again— Supergiant makes damn good games. I’d been holding off on checking out Hades until its full release due to my tendency to burn out on games easily, and I’m glad I waited. Hades is a fantastic rogue-lite experience. The way it makes narrative progression part of the reiterative, randomized rogue-lite structure is just perfect.

It’s got all the usual Supergiant bullet points. Great characters, voice acting, narration, and music. In terms of gameplay, it’s probably their least ambitious game— playing something like a cousin to their original game, Bastion— but it’s also been polished to a mirror sheen. It just feels really damn good to play, over and over and over.

That being said, the second (final?) ending feels kind of…. Tacked on? It’s fine as a goal to go for while continuing to do the game’s relationship mechanics for additional story bits, but it ends up feeling kind of unfulfilling compared to the payoff of the first one.

1. Crusader Kings III – 2020 – Steam – ★★★★★

I never could get into Crusader Kings II. Despite my interest, the sheer mechanical heft and unintuitive interface made the game a wall that I just couldn’t get over. I’m sure if I’d dedicated myself I probably could have learned it, but… ehhhhhh.

Crusader Kings III, on the other hand, has a good tutorial, a cleaned-up UI, and a very helpful highlight and tooltip system that make it much easier to understand how to actually play the game through resources inside the game itself. And, as it turns out: I rather love this game.

I mean, conceptually it’s an easy sell, isn’t it? Historical politics is something I enjoy broadly. I liked Stellaris but wish it had more narrative, roleplaying elements. They outright say that “winning” isn’t really the point of the game. Instead, it’s more about emergent storytelling and playing with the different systems and seeing what you can do with it.

My current game has had me taking the Haesteinn dynasty from its Viking origins into England, forming a London-seated Northern Sea Empire that encompasses all of Britannia, Iceland, Holland, Norway, and Denmark. I am currently working on hegemonizing Norse religious control over enough Asatru holy sites to finally reform the religion, such that more unified feudalization can occur. To that end, my current ruler’s predecessor invaded West Francia and conquered the whole of its territory, substantially reducing the foothold of Catholicism in mainland Europe… which seems to have kicked the hornet’s nest, given the Crusade I’m going to need to contend with next time I boot up the game.

Of course, a complicating matter is that my current ruler— the Emperor of the North Sea, King of Ireland and the Danelaw, liege of the King of Denmark, was elected from the extended Haesteinn family via Thing, the Scandinavian council of his erstwhile vassals. Where the previous emperor, the one who manufactured the invasion of Francia, was quite religious and beloved for his adherence to the old ways, I discovered as I took over as his successor that he really, really is into just boning down across Europe. We’re talking constantly attempting to seduce neighboring Queens and Princesses. His vassals are not thrilled with this. They also don’t care for his propensity for torturing people to death, constantly.

I had no real say in this; attempting to stay on top of a dynasty is kind of like riding a bucking-bronco, so many things are only tenuously under your control that some weird shit can happen. This is especially true when you use the systems that make it easier to maintain the coherency of your domain. The Norse religion encouraging concubinage results in you having a lot of kids, which means there’s a lot of domain partition going on (someday, primogeniture, someday). Naturally, using Thing election reduces that, but also makes you sometimes end up having to play Emperor Stabbo-Fucko because they thought he was the best candidate at the time. Hell, I thought he was the best candidate at the time until I discovered just how many people he’d be laying with on the low. But you just have to roll with it.

The way the game forces you to play ball with character traits is great. Doing things that match with the character’s traits makes them lose stress. Doing things against their character increases stress. Too much stress can force you to make the character take up vices (which can make them suffer health or opinion maluses, as well as altering their aptitudes), or even die outright. And sometimes those vices and attitudes can be boons, given they open up opportunities for different character interactions.

Emperor Stab-and-Fuck-Kingdom is perhaps the most relaxed person alive, it turns out, because his sadism makes him really enjoy sacrificing infidels, which makes the gods happy. It also freaks the fuck out of all of his vassals, so they’re a good supplicant mix of both appreciative of my religious sentiments and also utterly terrified of my skull piles. Some especially brave vassals occasionally try to assassinate me, but my lovers keep jumping in front of the knife and saving my life mid-coitus. Iiiiiit happens! :D  

The game can be incredibly fun to just watch, as it becomes emergently weird. Georgia right now is incredibly Jewish in game. I’m not sure how that happened; I guess someone made a random Jewish guy into a vassal, who somehow moved up enough in the world to make it a movement? The Byzantine princes elected a Coptic as Emperor, which over the course of the decade resulted in very accelerated balkanization as Byzantium just lost its shit. The Middle East and notional HRE haven’t really unified in a meaningful way, so I’m curious how things are going to go if/when the Mongols unify and roll-on in.

It’s one of those “Just one more thing” games that can completely devour time. I have more than a few times checked the clock mid-game to see that it’s 4AM and that I’ve totally ruined my sleep schedule in the process of play. Oooooops.

I highly recommend checking it out if you’re curious; the introductory, pre-release video series Paradox put out showing off the game does a pretty good job of showing the core gameplay loop and also how weird it can get.

#GAME OF THE YEAR #GOTY #nonfiction #thinkpiece #2020 #Crusader Kings 3 #Hades #SD Gundam #Animal Crossing

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (13)

Chapter 13: Strange Way of Finding Things | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: This was supposed to be a full-length flashback chapter but I looked at the word count and I just-- 😳😵😧😬 So I just decided to split it because I don’t wanna drag you guys on with more than 5000 words of a single chapter. I would’ve broken my record average word count 😜 anyway, I hope y’all are ready for the angst

Also tagging: @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms​ @berenilion​ @justtinfoley​ @stellar-trinity​ @peterwandaparker​ @calgasm​ @queen-destenie​ @calsponchoemporium​ @cal-jestis​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @sweeetteaa​ @fallenjedii​ @superwarsofthrones​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC | Additional (last 2 tags count as TW): Nomara Anesh, Jedi Master! Fem OC, Togruta Fem OC, Jedi Seeker! Fem OC, family separation, separation anxiety

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 | Previous: Part 12 | Next: Part 14 | Masterlist

13 of ?

31 BBY

ESHYN, LAU’NON SYSTEM, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

The clouds clear a path for the Jedi Starfighter, aboard it is the young Jedi Seeker, Nomara Anesh, one of the youngest seekers at only 34 years old.

Her aerial view of the archipelago captivated her as she flew by the land mass. The sapphire blue coastline surrounded the island, high mesas with a vast carpet of grass framed the formation while the torrential waves kissed the rigid rock faces with its ivory-white seafoam and mist.

It was simply breathtaking.

Though it saddened her that the Trade Federation has begun to press its ugly thumb into this tropical masterpiece. Prior to her visit, Nomara did her reading on the planet, its current political and economic state as well. She has always been the curious one amongst her batch—said her former master—thus resulting to her inquisitive upbringing.

“There it is, Evy,” Nomara peered through the side window of the cockpit. “Sa’Junna: where we need to be.”

She afforded another pass above the main island, searching for a safe place to land with the assistance of the astromech droid.

“Do you see anything, Evy?”

The droid, EV-65 or Evy as Nomara personally nicknamed it, chirped in excitement, equally as captivated as its Jedi owner; the droid popped out a tiny satellite from a small hatch on its dome head.

The young woman managed a smile at her droid’s happy trills, but something stirred within her as she approaches the island. The closer she got, the swirling at the pit of her stomach became stronger—though, it didn’t alarm her because she doesn’t sense anything wrong with it; nevertheless, whatever the Force was subtly telling her, it intrigued her.

“Bee-beep!!”

“Great job, Evy. Override the landing cycle now,”

“Beeep-doo!”

It took Evy a few seconds before relaying the area coordinates for a safe landing area to Nomara’s dashboard. A virtual map of the island flashed and a green blip blinked over the center section of the land mass. The Jedi followed the lead and managed to dock her ship in between the capital and a village half a mile away from each landmark. The droid remained on the ship while Nomara dismounted the vessel.

The city of Sa’Junna was developed by a civilization of old, and then later cultivated and nurtured by the past generations until the current one. Having grown and thrived for countless millennia, a great majority of the residents were humans, but other humanoids like Twi’leks and Nautolans have migrated to this idyllic sanctuary. The place appeared to have seen better days priors to the Trade Federation’s occupation.

Nomara could see the bustle of trade in the city, it wasn’t as grand as Coruscant or Naboo, but the prosperity is evident.

Upon alighting her starship, she was promptly greeted by a tall stature of a human male with a greying beard that covered half of his olive-skinned face. He gestured with open arms, welcoming the Togruta, while subtly keeping a tinge of caution in his words and actions.

Nomara bowed slowly and solemnly in greeting.

“Welcome, traveler. What is it that you seek in our already-disturbed home?”

“The exact disturbance you speak of, friend.”

The tribe leader introduced himself as Sentuk Nirmo, he governed one of the villages that networked with the main city—where most of the trade transpires. Seeing that Nomara bore better will than the Trade Federation’s emissaries, he invited her into their settlement where they could speak openly within closed walls. As they walked, Sentuk briefed Nomara of their situation.

“At first, they wanted the metal. But when they found the deeper caverns, that’s when they’ve completely sucked our mines dry! The Federation has robbed us of our own homeland.” Sentuk grieved, and then added. “They barricaded the Yishen Strait—our main trade route—from civilians and real traders. Since then, business has been slow for many of us.”

Sentuk’s voice trailed off when he noticed Nomara subtly panning her head left and right, as if searching for something. The Jedi apologized for zoning out, the tribe leader dismissed it as a fascination towards the planet as well as exhaustion—and so he invited her to their settlement. The Togruta follows the Sentuk into the village; along the way, he explains that each village has a leader which then comprises the council. With every step, the faint trace of the Force that Nomara has picked up gotten stronger.

Sentuk presented his humble home, it seems that the Federation has already left its mark in this village along with the others surrounding the capital city—Nomara looked around and found children playing out in the open, whilst weavers make baskets and rucksacks out of their looms for the hunters to store their game, other residents tend and plow their modest vegetable gardens and orchards.

“It seems so peaceful here,” Nomara’s smile faded as instantaneously as it appeared. “But I sense the distraught in these people.”

Sentuk hummed in agreement, recalling his grievance of their overall predicament. Nomara’s brows pulled together, she closed her eyes for a moment to detect that trail she’s picked up.

“There’s something else,” she mumbled so quietly that Sentuk barely heard.

The Togruta blinked her eyes open and the first thing she saw was a small girl watching the other children play—she looked like she had just learned how to stand and walk. Forgetting that she stood with the tribe leader, Nomara approached the child slowly until the girl acknowledged her with wide, quiet eyes bursting with curiosity.

She knelt down to level with the child, she offered her open palm, and without a single ounce of hesitation the toddler placed her pudgy hands on the vibrant red-skinned palm of the visitor. Their eyes met, Nomara’s heart leapt for a reason she can’t explain, her lips involuntarily curled and by impulse, her fingers folded around the soft, tender hand.

“Jidné!” a melodic voice beckoned from the cottage.

Both Nomara and the child turned to the direction of the voice, it was the mother. Nomara slowly hoisted herself back to her full height, when the mother stepped out of the doorway of their home, two more little girls followed behind her—presumably the little one’s older sisters—but they kept themselves close by the skirt of their mother, intrigued and at the same time shy of the unusual-looking visitor.

“I’m sorry, I just…” stammered the Jedi softly. “Your daughter.”

The mother flashed a friendly smile, “Yes, what about her?”

“She’s strong with the Force. For someone so little, she carries a significant amount of it within her.”

The woman immediately got the hint, she’s heard the stories, though this is the first time she’s met one in the flesh. Her eyes wandered to the waistband of the Togruta’s robes and spotted the silver hilt shimmering, dominating the neutral colors of her clothes.

“You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?”

“Yes, my name is Nomara Anesh,” the Jedi bowed her head briefly as soon as she uttered her own name.

“My name is Tymara Sheedra, I see you have met my little Jidné,” the woman peeked over the backside of her skirt, spotting her two other daughters, she introduced Krea and Maryn—aged eleven and eight respectively. The girls greeted the Togruta who beamed a gentle smile at them as she returned the gesture.

Nomara clarified that she was a Seeker and stated her purpose to Tymara, the Togruta’s emotions synched with the other woman’s—that friendly smile reduced into a poker face and then replaced with a blank smile.

“Um… Why don’t we talk inside? I just finished making supper,” Tymara invited the guest into her house, who politely obliged despite the tension.

The single-storey cottage was quaint, although each room was cramped and limiting to a number of persons inside. The kitchen was in the same space as the dining table—which lacked chairs and had woven cushions and mantles in its place. If one is to peek a little bit to their right, they could see the bedroom—the girls’ beds were thick-enough cushions each sitting atop a wooden frame, whilst the parents’ bed is settled on another side of the room; the only thing distinguishing the “rooms” was a wooden divider panel.

Nomara wagered this house couldn’t fit any more family members, Jidné would be the live marker of the home’s limit. She settled herself by the table—across where she sat, the three girls played in a small space that only fit them perfectly without needing to duck or crouch, the two older sisters watched with great fascination as Jidné lift a doll off the floor without touching it, Nomara watched intently along with them.

Tymara offered her a bowl of broth and bread on the side.

“I’m really sorry about our house. It’s not exactly much, isn’t it?” Tymara initiated quite apologetically, poking the bits of meat in the soup.

“I don’t mind,” Nomara awkwardly chuckled, parroting Tymara’s nervous poking before scooping up a spoonful and then bringing it into her mouth.

“What is it that you Seekers do?”

“We search the galaxy for Force-sensitive children. We bring them to the Jedi Temple in Coruscant and then train them into becoming Jedi Knights like myself.”

Tymara bit her lip and gawked emotionlessly at her food, it took her a good minute before she started to touch her food again. She spoke again, but didn’t face Nomara when she did.

“Have you come for her?”

The Jedi’s head perked to the mother, Tymara let the bottom of the spoon float above the soup—sensing her fluctuating appetite swirling together with the anxiety slowly eating away her mind; Nomara inhaled deeply, ceasing to touch her food to find the right words to say.

“Not specifically. I didn’t even know it was her until I… well, found her. The Force—or perhaps the universe—has a strange way of showing things we need to see when we least expect it, no matter how difficult it is to accept the signs.”

“And this Force… showed you to my daughter?”

“It would appear so,”

“Are you going to take her from me?”

“I wouldn’t force it,” Nomara replied somberly, as if understanding the grief of separation. In a way, she has felt that in one way or another.

There was silence, even the girls have purposefully hushed their voices and giggling to secretly listen to their conversation between the guest and their mother—even the little, two-year-old Jidné followed suit of her sisters.

“Eshyn isn’t what it used to be anymore, this was my home, and my husband’s, and our parents…” Tymara mumbled, watching her daughters resume playing. “We thought the Federation would make us prosper—because that’s what they promised us. You could imagine how stupid we all felt when the Trade Federation delivered the perfect opposite of what they told us. Ever since then, life has been hard for all of us. Especially the children—even if they don’t see it that way, at least not yet.”

Nomara understood Tymara’s sentiments, after all, she is a mother just looking for out for children and wanting what’s only best for them. The collective giggling of the girls was the only thing that warmed the abode today.

“Where’s their father?”

Tymara’s clasped fingers tightened around one another, she breathed deeply and bit her lip before she spoke a word.

“I lost him to a mining accident… because they wanted more metal. That’s all we ever heard from them. More metal. More work. More yields.”

“I’m sorry,” Nomara averted her gaze to the food that had now gone cold.

Little Jidné approached the table, specifically to Nomara’s side. She waddled towards the Jedi, the baby stared and studied the vibrant indigo patterns of the montrals while feeling its texture; then her pudgy paws found the tassel of turquoise beads that framed the side of the Togruta’s face, mistaking it for a toy. The two women giggled, endeared the little one’s innocence as Jidné continued to lightly swat the accessory and watch it dangle, immediately and easily entertained. Eventually, her sisters joined in and bombarded the Togruta with questions of wonderment—to name a few, they asked her where her species lived, if the white patterns on their faces were actual skin or tattoos, and how long can their montrals grow.

Nomara is simply overwhelmed by the cheeriness of these three girls combined, but the unexplainable lightness of Jidné prevailed. She knew it was the girl’s Force energy, but also the purity of her heart and spirit.

Tymara smiled at the sight of her youngest daughter getting along too easily with their visitor, but it was a sad smile—in her mind, she was already arguing against herself for the betterment of her youngest. With the occupation rendering them dirt poor and being a single parent, she had to make the toughest decision of her life. It took Tymara the entire evening to let it sink into her and toughen herself up even though she’s already falling apart because of their economic state.

By sunset, the entire village was rattled by the presence of the Trade Federation emissaries and their guards—a small unit of battle droids. What barred them from taking a step further into the settlement is Sentuk, with his warriors and hunters united to making a barricade out of themselves to protect their home.

“Not one step further!” Sentuk bellowed.

“I am sure you are aware of your settlement’s dues, old man,” the Neimoidian official flapped its trouty lips at the tribe leader.

“Your demands do not have a single drop of realism in them! You demand large yields over a short period of time, not even the manpower of two villages combined can make that quota,”

“Yeah, with what you’ve done with our mines—that quota is ridiculous!” added a spear-wielding warrior standing beside Sentuk and the men behind them murmured in agreement.

“Is your brain smaller than what it appears?!” taunted another man in the barricade, the joke was received differently from each party.

Vexed and provoked, the Neimoidian emissary raised a finger at Sentuk.

“I have given you more than enough time for that quota and you have failed me once more! I told you what would come to you should you not do what you are asked!”

A hasty wave of the hand prompted the guards to aim their rifles at the people making up the human barricade, the people in the village shrieked in fright—many of which have already retreated into their homes but peered through their windows. Nomara, who had been observing the sour exchange between the leader and the slimy emissary, rushed into the scene a split second after the command to fire has been given—killing off five of the men already and fatally wounding Sentuk after being shot in the side of his stomach.

“Jedi!? Here!?” the Neimodian screeched in a panic.

All of the villagers completely retreated into their homes—including Tymara and the girls—while Nomara aided the warriors in eradicating the battle droids, leaving the empty-handed emissary standing amongst the pile of dead clankers. Completely befuddled and frightened for his life, Nomara had him at swordpoint.

“I… I didn’t give the order! I’m just a messenger…!” he whimpered and his sheer terror had unconsciously dragged his legs to make him run away, leaving the wake of the ruined droids behind him.

When the tension eased, Nomara quickly turned her attention to the wounded Sentuk. A group of people have already gathered around him.

“Bring him to your healer, quickly now!”

The group carried their leader by the feet and underneath his arms, they briskly brought him to the cottage of the village healer while Nomara caught her breath and examined the droids’ remains. She felt the gaze of Tymara piercing right through her, she found the mother and children huddled by the doorway after the skirmish; Nomara saw the sad, disdainful sigh of the mother as she herded her children back into the house again.

After tucking the girls to bed, Tymara joined Nomara who was overlooking the coastline; the ocean breeze made the ladies’ robes and skirt billow wildly above the grass. There was a voiceless banter between the women, as if they have already began this conversation in their minds and linked it to each other.

“Will she be taken care of?” Tymara blurted.

Taken aback by the question, Nomara turned her head to the mother and stared at her for a long moment, unaware that her lips have parted due to the surprise. She turned her eyes back to the ocean slowly being devoured by the evening’s darkness.

“What?”

“Jidné. If you bring her with you, to become a Jedi, will she be taken care of?”

“Tymara, a Jedi’s hard life is a hard life,” Nomara shifted her body to face Tymara. “Jidné will have to grow up facing a lot of dangers as she grows up if she comes with me.”

Tymara bitterly chuckled, more of a nasal exhalation than an actual laugh, “Better than scratching the earth for her next meal. At least I know that she lives fighting for something honorable.”

“What about you? And Krea and Maryn?”

“We’ll manage. They’ve already learned how to loom and tend farms, they know their craft well. But for Jidné, well…” Tymara licked her lips. “This will always be her home, but I know she’s made for something greater. I just know it. You can never underestimate a mother’s intuition.”

Nomara smiled, although sadly, mostly for Tymara and the girls. Having nothing more to say, the two of them continued to look into the horizon, finding an individual sort of comfort underneath the pale blue moonlight.

“No, I suppose not.”

That night, Tymara snuck upon her sleeping daughters, but fixated her eyes on the youngest—plump cheeks squished against the pillow, her round and supple belly rising and falling as she slept, and her twitching eyelids made Tymara wonder what the little one could be dreaming of. She knelt down by Jidné’s bedside, her hands smoothly glided over her soft head and fine head of dark hair, and leaned forward to kiss Jidné’s forehead—it was a long kiss, and even after she pulled her lips away, the roundness of the baby’s cheek perfectly fit the curve of Tymara’s nose bridge, inhaling Jidné’s infant scent.

The woman bit her lip as she battled with her tears. It’s going to be a long night for Tymara.

Nomara watched from the open doorway, arms crossed with each other, there was a heavy gloom around the house that suffocated her—not even sighing deeply helped. She retired to the space in the bedroom that Tymara had personally fixed up for her.

In the morning of their departure, Tymara held her youngest daughter for the final time and rocked her as if putting her to sleep. Her sisters, as well, bade their own tearful goodbyes to their baby sister, ceaselessly riddling her plump cheeks with kisses and leaving tears stains upon her skin—in a way, Jidné is lucky that she is unaware that this is the sorrow of parting.

Tymara nuzzled her cheek against Jidné’s smooth forehead. One last embrace and a kiss buried into the crook of the child neck; with her eyes closed, she imagined how Jidné would grow up to be—but she’s completely certain that she’d grow up to be a strong, courageous woman—and she painted a mental picture of how her daughter would look like once she’s come of age.

In a prayerful solemnity, Tymara whispered all of her wishes for Jidné to Jidné herself—be strong and brave yet remain kind, wise, and gentle; make good friends with the other children if she meets any; listen well to the instructions of the elders; and most importantly, listen to her heart.

Tymara savored this last moment, Nomara was kind enough to give all the time she needs—the Togruta passed the time by prepping her Starfighter and doing the necessary maintenance checks before takeoff.

“I love you… I love you so much, my darling girl,” Tymara feigns a brave face. She held Jidné right in front of her, then Jidné’s pudgy hands caressed both of her cheeks, and that’s when she lost it—tears streamed down her cheeks, wetting the child’s tiny fingers.

The true, final embrace and kiss from her mother before Jidné is transferred to the arms of Nomara Anesh.

“You have my word. She’ll be treated well.”

“I know,” muttered Tymara quite weakly, rubbing her arms together to whisk away the cold goosebumps pelting her skin. “I know.”

Tymara watches her daughter walk away in the arms of the Togruta. She watches a part of her heart and soul shrink in the distance, unaware eyes looking over the shoulder of the Seeker and back into the grieving eyes of her mother. Tymara’s hand flinched into a short-lived wave and quickly brought them to her lip, biting into her fingernails until her daughter has fully disappeared in a ship with Nomara and out of Eshyn.

#cal kestis #cal kestis fic #jidne sheedra #cal kestis x jidne sheedra #cal kestis x jidne sheedra fic #fem oc #cal kestis x fem oc #cal kestis x fem oc fic #force-sensitive! fem oc #bounty hunter! fem oc #jedi! fem oc #nomara anesh #jedi master! fem oc #togruta fem oc #jedi seeker! fem oc #family separation #separation anxiety #star wars #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order fic #sw #swjfo #swjfo fic #jedi fallen order #jfo #jedi fallen order fic #jfo fic #fic #fluff #fluff fic

[bmaxwell]

Best of 2020: Not the Top 10

Old Game of the Year: Final Fantasy XV

My feelings on Final Fantasy XV are similar to my feelings on last year’s Death Stranding: I can’t really argue that it’s a good game, and I can’t recommend it without a lot of asterisks. The combat is sloppy and just never felt right for me,  and the story meanders in places - but it’s also an experience that I cherished and it will stay with me for a long time.

The game’s setup of “4 buddies on a road trip before one of them gets married” feels inspired, and the early sections of the game are its best moments. It feels lighthearted, driving your car from site to site, camping, cooking, and fishing. One of your party members takes pictures throughout the game, and at the end of each day you are asked which ones you want to save. Over the course of the game, you can look back at these photos, and that really makes FFXV feel like a shared journey.

As it progresses, the story feels disjointed and incoherent at times, but the friendships built and memories forged in the early hours of the game were more than enough to carry me through, and the ending made me feel wistful in a way I did not expect. Final Fantasy XV became the first main series Final Fantasy game that I played to completion.

Also good old games: River City Girls, Yakuza Kiwami 2, Assassin’s Creed: Origins, Remnant: from the Ashes, Destiny 2  

Best Music: Hades

At this point I can pretty much say “It’s a SuperGiant game” and that’s enough to justify a Best Music nod. It’s smart, it’s catchy as hell, it’s moving, the music for Hades is what the music has been for every one of their games. It’s a crucial part of the game, and the experience would be poorer without its quality. And the end boss music got me pumped every single time. 

Atomicrops’ music is pretty goddamned neat though.

Also very good music: Atomicrops, Spiritfarer, As Far as the Eye, Monster Train, Calico, SINoALICE

Best Early Access game: Griftlands

It’s a good time to be a fan of deckbuilding card games. Griftlands takes the idea of dispatching enemies by force or negotiation that I first saw awkwardly introduced  in Renowned Explorers, and implements it into an excellent deckbuilding game. In Griftlands you choose from 3 characters (each with unique cards and playstyles) and try to survive in the wastelands by fighting, robbing, flattering, bullshitting, and whatever else you have to do to get by. 

Each character has one set of cards for combat, and a set for conversation. The world feels fresh and unique, and it has the visual charm and personality I’ve come to expect from Klei. If this had gone 1.0 this year, it would have certainly been in my top 10.

Also wonderful early access games: The Last Hex, Trial by Fire, Dreamscaper, Gordian Quest, Ooblets

The “It’s Not You, It’s Me” Award: Kentucky Route Zero

Every year there’s at least one excellent game that, for whatever reason, just does not work for me. Last year it was The Outer Wilds. The year before, it was The Return of the Obra Dinn. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get into them. This year, it was Kentucky Route Zero.

Part of the problem may be not only that the first of the game’s five acts was released 7 years ago in 2013, but I played the first 3 acts a couple of years ago. If you remember that post about discovery and why I play games that I made a draft of last month but never published or even finished, then you know that it’s hard for me to replay games in the discovery bucket. On paper, this game is 100% my shit - the music, the dreamlike atmosphere, it’s all so massively appealing to me. Every time I start to play it, part of my brain just clicks off. It’s the kind of early access game I should have avoided until it was all finished. 

Also better than I give credit for: Fae Tactics, Resident Evil 3

Most Disappointing: New Console Availability

No games were hugely disappointing for me this year. What was disappointing is the difficulty in find either a Playstation 5 or Xbox Series X at launch.

It’s not surprising, given the way the pandemic affected the supply chains console manufacturers source their parts from, that the new consoles were incredibly difficult to secure. Waiting to see a Tweet from Wario64, then trying to add them to a cart and checkout only to hit several errors along the way and come up empty is pretty frustrating. Not there’s a lot of reason to get one of these at launch anyway - the lineups are pretty thin. But hey, I’ve been a gamer all my life and never gotten a console at launch. I’d like to get in on that one time. 

I did get an Xbox Series X a few weeks after launch by way of Microsoft’s Xbox All Access program. If you’d told me a a couple of years ago that I’d be going after a next gen Xbox before a next gen Playstation, I’d never have believed it. Game Pass is such an incredible value, those Playstation exclusives (for me) pale in comparison. Plus the Playstation 5 looks goddamned ridiculous. But I’ll get one sooner or later - Final Fantasy 7 Remake 2 will be there at some point, and the pack-in Astrobot game looks real good. It’s the first time I can remember the 3 big console makers each doing distinctly different things. It’s a pretty exciting time for the industry.

Also disappointing I guess: Torchlight III 

Looking Forward To: Darkest Dungeon II 

Hey look. You know - you KNOW I like Hollow Knight. But a sequel to my favorite game ever is at the top of my wish list. Red Hook has been pretty hush about details for Darkest Dungeon II, but I’m perfectly fine waiting and trusting them. Also: Wayne June is onboard. Let’s fucking GO.

Also anticipating: Hollow Knight: Silksong, Final Fantasy VII Remake part 2

[danyka-fendyr]

The Thing With Feathers - 1

Chapter One: He Stuns You By Degrees

Okay guys, so here’s the deal with this fic. Right now I’m releasing this first chapter on Tumblr and by tomorrow it should be posted on AO3. However in the future it will be the opposite of that, getting slightly earlier AO3 releases than Tumblr releases. For purposes of my desire to make pop cultural references, I’m disregarding the fact that the original books are set in the 90′s. I’m really excited to release this one since I worked really hard on it, and I’m even more excited to make it my first fic ever posted on AO3. I hope all of you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Taglist: @dreamwritersimagines @rhabakoli @alwaysadreamingoptimist

Wordcount: 5.3k

Warnings: PTSD and mentions of war

There were two days in Hermione Granger’s mind that stood out as the happiest days of her life. The day that she realized Harry and Ron were in fact her friends, and the day the wizarding war ended. Today, she was fairly certain she was about to add a new day to that list. The day she became a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She pulled her planner out of the small beaded bag she still carried everywhere with her, a remnant of a war she had yet to truly stop fighting. She didn’t bother shuffling through it, simply summoning the planner she needed. Her compartment on the train was empty, so she reasoned that now was as good a time as any to go through her schedule for the day.

She was meant to visit Hagrid for tea before the banquet in the Great Hall, truly fortunate timing given that she doubted anything had changed about his cooking since her last visit, and therefore she would not be eating much. Next on her schedule was to drink 4.7 liters of pumpkin juice until she bled the stuff. She had fond memories of the sugary drink from her childhood and fully intended upon indulging herself tonight. In fact, where was the trolley witch?

Speak of the devil. A rustle at her compartment door caused Hermione to look up, an expectant smile on her face. It quickly fell away when she was greeted by someone who was most definitely not the trolley witch.

Dark, expensive looking wizard’s robes. Sharp, unnervingly keen blue eyes. And to top it all off? That shock of white blond hair, longer now then it was in their school days, falling into his eyes a little. McGonagall had warned her of her fellow new professor, but she had not been prepared for the reality of the thing.

It wasn’t the first time she had seen Draco since the war. She had seen him at his trial, and then she had seen him frequently at work. She had taken up a job at Flourish and Blotts for a while after it reopened, but while Malfoy had frequented the store, he had never approached her. He hovered creepily in the potions section before spending his limitless fortune on yet another book on the same subject.

Still, sometimes she caught him watching her with a haunted look in those eerie grey eyes, and as the months had drained on and summer had faded into fall, she had not only grown accustomed to his presence but had also found the flashbacks came less and less the more she saw of him. She gripped the ledge of the window now, imagining to herself a dull throb where the words had been carved. She believed phantom pain to be the technical term.

She expected him to say something. Something rude, specifically. Instead, he refused to meet her eyes. He merely mumbled something about how all of the other compartments were full and proceeded to take a seat as far away from her as he possibly could.

Now, Hermione knew they had a history. Knew that better than anyone, had it carved into her arm, a perfect parallel to the brand on his. That being said, she couldn’t help being a little insulted. Shouldn’t she be the one cringing away from him? Where was all that infamous Malfoy swagger now?

For months, he had all but stalked her in the shops. She had at one point had cause to ask her manager to let her work in any section but the potions section. For the first several months of her job, she had found herself frantically retreating to the back room just so she didn’t have to make eye contact with a former Death Eater she had only barely found the nerve to testify for and save from his own teenage stupidity and horrific family legacy, and now he didn’t even have the nerve to speak to her?

“You know I don’t bite. I hex, but I don’t bite.”

The tone in which she said it implied that she might make an exception on her no biting policy just for him.

He looked startled that she had even deigned to talk to him at all, as well he should. He certainly had no right to it. It gave her an odd thrill to startle Draco Malfoy. He looked like a frightened puppy, those blue eyes flung wide for just a moment. And he defied her expectations again. Instead of the cool swagger she had expected, he looked…reserved?

“Apologies, Granger. I just thought…you might want your distance.” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Am I supposed to genuinely believe that you were just trying to do something nice for me?”

His eyes flitted to her left arm. Just for a moment, but it was long enough.

“I suppose you have reason enough not to. I assure you though, I have no desire to fight with you. I think we’re a bit past that, don’t you?” He managed a strained smile that rang false in Hermione’s eyes.

His calm infuriated her. She should be the self-righteous one here. She should be the one spouting out placations about their schoolyears and how they had grown and matured. Of all the people to try and teach her some kind of lesson, he was perhaps the one with the least right to.

“A bit past what, Malfoy? This?” She pulled back the sleeve on the arm he had been staring at earlier, watching him flinch back. “Just because you and Narcissa didn’t go to prison doesn’t mean we’re friends. It also doesn’t mean you can’t still go there. How do you think Mummy dearest will look after a few months in Azkaban?”

It was a low blow. She knew that. Even in her anger she hadn’t meant to fight that dirty, even in her memories of thrashing on a cold tile floor and blood, blood everywhere, so much of it, scars that would never heal, she had thought herself better than this. Somehow, the thrill of pleasure she got when he rose to her challenge made it all worth it.

“Alright then Granger, you want to be 16 again then fine. I suppose not much has changed, has it? You’re still pining after the Weasel, aren’t you? Tried to murder anyone with a flock of birds lately?”

Hermione stiffened. She hadn’t anticipated that he would be as familiar with her weaknesses as she was with his. She didn’t look at him when she admitted the unpleasant but unavoidable truth.

“Ron and I…are broken up.”

It had happened shortly after her 19th birthday. They had continued making public appearances together for the last year, but they had been gradually easing off, trying to avoid the media frenzy that would be just openly coming out with their split. Rita Skeeter would certainly have a field day with that one. She might as well tell Malfoy now though. They had been planning to announce it soon, using her new, distant position as an excuse.

That taunting yet comfortingly familiar smirk spread over his face as he leaned back in his seat, kicking his feet up on her side of the compartment. “Finally got tired of him, did you? Realized you were too good for him after all?”

Unwittingly, in trying to rile her up by insulting Ron, he had hit on her other sore spot. The fact that she had not actually broken up with him.

She grit her teeth. “Other way around actually. He broke up with me. Are we done discussing my love life now?”

Malfoy nearly fell out of his seat from his precariously perched situation, the shock evident on his face.

“Wait, he broke up with you? Has he finally lost his damn mind?” Surprisingly, Malfoy burst into laughter. “I mean, I always knew he was a bloody fool, but now he’s just reached new heights.”

Blessedly, the trolley witch really was the interruption at the door this time, and if she was surprised to see Hermione Granger speechlessly staring at an abundantly amused Draco Malfoy, she did not comment on it.

“Treats, dears?”

Hermione perked up at this, all anger forgotten at the promise of a chocolate frog. As a child she had never had much money for the candy that Harry and Ron so wildly indulged in, and entirely too much self-discipline to do so anyway. Now though, her 20-year-old self had considerably more funds and less will-power, and she wanted candy. Lots of it. She probably looked downright gleeful, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Then Draco Malfoy did something entirely unprecedented. Something heartstoppingly, shockingly, terribly unprecedented.

Maybe it was the look on her face. Maybe it was an overwhelming sense of guilt. Maybe it was some deep, innate, Malfoyish need in him to be a show-off at all times.

Whatever the reason, it was Hermione’s turn yet again to be unpleasantly surprised when he said, “We’ll take the lot.”

“What about the kids?” She stumbled out a protest.

“We’re the last compartment in the train Granger. Surely you’d noticed.” He raised an eyebrow.

She had, in fact. She had chosen this compartment intentionally to avoid everyone, former classmates included. Most students who had chosen to go back for an eighth year had done so the year directly after the battle. However, others were not so lucky. Many of the Slytherin students had been wrapped up in messy trials, and consequently found themselves having to take something of a gap year. A few of the students who had lost family members in the war had also taken time off to grieve, and Hermione dreaded seeing their hollowed-out eyes and potential accusatory glares. Unable to face all of it, she had chosen to avoid it for as long as possible, selecting this compartment for that purpose. Something Malfoy had managed to make her forget with his outlandish declaration.

“I…yes, of course. But…we’ll?” There was a healthy dose of skepticism launched into the word.

“Unless you didn’t want anything?”

Was he…teasing her? Not maliciously, not to be nasty. No, actual, good-natured teasing.

Unfortunately, she never got to find out, as the trolley witch named her price and left them with their candies.

“I figured if I can’t win your allegiance with my good looks and charming personality, maybe I can buy it,” he joked, offering up one of the very chocolate frogs she had been dreaming of.

Wearily, she took it. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Of course not.” He nodded amiably, and again Hermione got the sense of being handled with kid gloves.

She scowled. “I’ll accept this chocolate frog on one condition.”

He had the nerve to look amused. “Which is?”

“You have to eat an acid pop.”

The smirk fell off his face.

“Come on Granger, can’t you just eat the candy and be happy?”

“Nope. I will only accept this strange truce on the condition that you eat an acid pop. It’s a simple request Malfoy.”

“You want me to burn a hole through my tongue to get you to be civil.” Waves of disbelief came off of him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you not know the charm to heal an acid burn?”

The mocking lilt to her voice worked exactly as intended.

“Of course I do,” he said, already reaching for an acid pop.

The look on his face the moment he stuck it in his mouth was worth 5 years’ worth of truce. She had never seen someone be so dramatic before, and she had been friends with Harry Potter. She couldn’t and wouldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of her upon seeing his exaggerated agony.

He pulled it out almost immediately, working the healing charm on his tongue.

“Merlin, Granger, you’re a sadist.”

There was no malice behind the accusation.

“It’s true. I hide behind this bookworm façade, but get me alone and I’m a whole different person. Sticks and stones may break my bones but whips and chains excite me.”

Malfoy choked on the pumpkin pasty he was trying to enjoy. “What?”

Hermione was laughing again, entirely against her will.

“It’s a, a Muggle song,” she managed to gasp out.

“That’s what Muggles call music?” He stared at her, baffled.

“Oh, I can already tell this year is going to be great.”

“I hope so.” He sobered. “Did you…want to talk about it?”

Green wallpaper. Bellatrix’s face, manic and cackling. Screaming stretching into eternity, echoing through the halls, bouncing off the chandelier.

She opened her mouth to say no, opened her mouth to say something terrible again, but she saw his face first. He was unusually pale, even for such a pale boy as him, and he had that look in his eyes. The look from Flourish and Blotts. It wasn’t just apologetic. It was horrified.

Marble floors. Unforgiveable spells. And a boy with a face whiter than paper, mouth open to do everything short of beg his aunt to stop.

“I hope we can be civil this year, Professor Malfoy. I doubt we will ever be friends, but I’m sure we can manage civility.”

Despite her best intentions to maintain a brave face, she curled in on herself, resting her head against the compartment wall. She was set to stare out the window for the rest of the ride, and Malfoy seemed more than content to allow it, not pushing the issue any longer. He seemed to lose interest in the candy quickly, letting her know she could have as much of it as she wanted before falling back in his seat.

She didn’t think he meant to fall asleep. He couldn’t have if he knew what was going to happen. Regardless, he did fall asleep, and the screaming started soon after.

The first thing Hermione did was cast a silencing charm around their compartment. The last thing either of them needed was the entire train rushing down here. Then she crossed the carriage to sit across from him, intending to wake him. But he was…saying something. Perhaps it was torture to leave him like this, but hadn’t she been tortured? And she wanted answers now.

“Don’t hurt her! Please, please leave her alone. Aunt Bella, please..”

Hermione froze. She needed to wake him up. Right now.

She did it the fastest way she knew how, casting aguamenti, spraying water in his face and causing him to splutter awake. She performed a drying charm as well, barely thinking before waving her wand.

He panted, blond hair hanging down into his face, elbows resting on his knees. He looked like he might be sick, back and chest heaving with every breath.

“You were having a nightmare,” she said, like he might have been oblivious to it.

“Yes, thank you for that information Granger. Somehow it managed to escape me.”

She almost felt relieved to hear the bite in his voice. It was like getting the old Malfoy back, not one that walked on eggshells and had to be goaded into...well, goading her. It was truly a strange world they were living in.

“Oh, ever so sorry for not leaving you to your night terrors. I thought about it, but the screams were just a tad grating.” She glared at him.

He returned with just as much fire. “I think you’re getting my little nap and your dreams mixed up, Granger. Just because you scream my name in your sleep doesn’t mean we’re all so loud on our own time.”

“Funny coming from a man who takes every chance he gets to use my name.” She smirked triumphantly.

He lowered his voice, leaning forward and causing her to remember her venture over to his side of their compartment. “Does that bother you, Granger?”

His breath fanned across her face, warm and improbably smelling of mint, which it certainly shouldn’t have after all that candy. She almost asked him if he used a charm for that before remembering herself and recoiling.

“The only thing that bothers me is covering for you,” she snapped, crossing back to her side of the compartment before undoing her silencing charm. “Next time take some dreamless sleep, or aren’t you the potions master?”

He stared daggers at her but didn’t respond, settling back into his seat. He still looked shaken, but Hermione was determined to ignore him for the rest of the journey. It wouldn’t be much longer now anyway.

The rest of their trip did prove to be fairly uneventful, much to her relief. Their carriage remained blissfully scream free and before she knew it they were both at Hogwarts. Hermione breathed in the Scottish air on the platform, glad to be home. 

When preparing for the trip to Hogwarts, she recognized that she could have apparated into Hogsmeade, but she quickly realized it was easier to arrive with a sea of students. Hermione Granger alone might have attracted attention, but Professor Granger and her students had earned a certain amount of respect. Funny how helping save the world got you mixed reviews but professorship earned you rights. She suspected Malfoy had similar reasons for traveling so. Not that she cared.

Hagrid gave her a jolly wave as he rounded up the first years, and she waved back before hurrying over to the thestral-drawn carriages in the hopes of finding a good one. A breeze whipped through her bushy mess of curls, pulling them into all sorts of new shapes as she tried to hold them back with her hands.

Upon arriving at the carriages, Hermione was filled with a sense of dread. Harry and Ron would not be able to ride with her this year. She gnawed at her lip, unsure of what she wanted to do until she was presented with a rather clear sign. A sign that was heading right towards her, red hair bobbing up and down through the crowd.

“Hermione!” 

Arms flung themselves around her waist, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She returned the hug, more than happy to have a friend here. Ron may have given her up, but that didn’t mean his family had.

“Ginny. Did you want to get a carriage together?” Hermione asked, pulling back after a moment.

“Yes. You can tell me about the last year, I’ve barely seen you since you announced you were taking the gap year.” Ginny linked arms with her, dragging her towards one of the smaller carriages, just the right size for the two of them. “Done much reading?”

“I am happy to say yes,” Hermione said, laughing.

While everyone else who had taken the year off was now returning for their belated eighth year, Hermione’s situation was...unique. She had thought about returning for her eighth year the year after the war, but quickly realized she couldn’t do it. The memories of the girl who walked those halls as a student and who she was now were so incongruous she couldn’t bear it. Instead she had taken her NEWT’s mere weeks after the war, against the advisement of everyone in her life, including Headmistress McGonagall, but who was going to stop her? When Hermione Granger marches through the doors of the ministry demanding a NEWT’s examination weeks after saving the world, you don’t deny her. 

“Should you be heading up with the students?” Ginny asked as Hermione stepped into the carriage. “What with your professorship now and everything.”

Hermione smiled. “I shouldn’t, but I’m doing it anyway. I was hoping to see you and maybe some of the others.”

“I still can’t believe the ministry made us repeat a year. I mean, I can because the Carrows weren’t winning any professor of the year awards, but still. How does the Battle of Hogwarts count as experience for all the seventh years but not anybody else?” Ginny slammed the carriage door behind her as she finished getting in behind Hermione.

“Oh please.” Hermione rolled her eyes, seeing right through her. “You’re delighted to be here. You’re more than eager to see your favorite professor.”

Ginny blushed, freckles disappearing in the red blooming over her cheeks. 

“I’m more eager for the feast tonight,” she retorted.

“Oh definitely. I’m dying for some pumpkin juice.”

“Of all the things I didn’t anticipate you missing, pumpkin juice was probably at the top of that list. Who knew it could be so addictive?” Ginny threw herself back in her seat, red hair billowing across the dark upholstery. “Do you think we can convince the Thestrals to go any faster?”

“Worth a shot,” Hermione joked.

She felt a sudden surge of fondness for Ginny. They had both changed so much in the last year. Hermione had found a new lack of enthusiasm for the rules, and if she was honest, a lack of enthusiasm. It often felt as though the color had leeched out of her life after the war, and most days she simply didn’t have the energy to care about anything that wasn’t essential, which included other people’s opinions. Disillusionment with authority had partially carried her through the last year. 

Ginny, on the other hand, had learned that freedom and independence weren’t the same thing. Hermione had watched her learn to rely more on the others in her life as she dealt with her own grief, the loss of Fred sharp and heavy in her heart. The one thing that hadn’t changed was their friendship, despite Hermione’s breakup with her brother. Some time after that awful seventh year, Ginny had become Hermione’s best friend, and she was rarely unconscious of the gift that was. While she would have spared Ginny her pain if she could have, it was an undeniable relief to have someone uniquely able to understand. Their losses were not the same, but pain is rarely particular in its forms of relief.

They chatted more on the way to the castle, and Hermione realized that this was probably the most she’d been able to talk to Ginny since the breakup. Ginny had gone directly back to school after the war, citing her need to stay busy as a reason, as well as the fact that she was already a year behind thanks to Minister of Magic Shacklebolt’s decision that 5th years and above were to repeat the year they had studied under Death Eater watch. Hermione hadn’t seen her over the holidays either, as it had simply been too awkward for her to show up at the Burrow, especially with Harry gone all the time. She had taken up residence in a little flat in Diagon Alley and abandoned nearly everything except for her work. Ginny had stopped by sometimes when she went to visit George at the shop, but it just wasn’t the same.

“So Minnie gave you her old job?”

“Ginny! Don’t let her hear you calling her Minnie, she might just give you detention for a week.” Despite her scolding, Hermione couldn’t hold back her smile.

It had been quite an honor to have McGonagall herself ask her to work as the new Transfiguration professor. She had been trying to find an adequate replacement for quite some time now, Hermione knew, preparing to transition her focus solely to being Headmistress of the school. Of course, knowing who some of her fellow professors were put a damper on her pride.

“Did you hear Malfoy is the new Potions professor?” Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Can’t believe they’re even allowing him near children.”

Hermione shook her head. “Neither can I. To be honest I thought McGonagall would be more strict than this.”

“Yeah. This feels more like a Dumbledore move,” she agreed.

“You never could tell what he was going to do next.”

“One day he was asking for socks for Christmas and the next he was sending my boyfriend out as a human sacrifice. What a wildcard.”

Ginny sounded almost admiring, and Hermione had to laugh. She remembered that Ginny had grown up with a whole household of wildcards, notwithstanding Percy. She had had a healthy appreciation for the unconventional instilled in her at a young age.

“Look!” Ginny said, excitedly pressing her face to the glass. “The castle!”

Hermione found herself just as eager, and she joined Ginny at the window, both of them acting like a pair of first years witnessing the architectural behemoth for the first time. It was just as Hermione had remembered it. She felt a sudden stab of longing and she found herself tearing up a little, almost feeling as though she was coming home. 

At last they arrived, but Hermione was reluctant to part ways. 

“I’m popping down to Hagrid’s for a few minutes for tea. Did you want to come with me?” She offered.

Ginny glanced between Hermione and the castle. “I would, but…”

“You have someone you need to see.”

Ginny smiled slyly. “Yes, I do. See you at the feast?”

“See you at the feast,” Hermione agreed. “I should be back in time to see the Sorting.”

“Topping.” 

Hermione watched for a moment as Ginny headed through the doors of the castle, losing her in a sea of black, before heading down to Hagrid’s hut. She picked her way through the grounds, breathing in the late summer air. It was quite a warm night, and the walk to Hagrid’s was pleasant, though not long.

The moment her fist met the door, she heard Fang’s barking, and she couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. That smile only grew wider when Hagrid threw the door open, drawing her into a hug.

“‘Mione!” She could hear the tears in his eyes before she could see them. “Oh it’s so good to ‘ave you ‘ome.”

“Hagrid,” she wheezed, “I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, sorry ‘bout tha’,” he said, letting her go.

As she suspected, his black eyes shown with tears and his hair, even wilder than hers, was beginning to grow wet with it. Oh dear. Somewhere between greeting her and letting go of her he had started crying in earnest.

“Hagrid, what’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

“I just, I missed you lot so much, and it’s so good to have you back. You know, ‘Arry comes by sometimes, but it’s just not the same, is it?”

Hermione felt that familiar ache in her chest. No, no it was not the same.

“Oh Hagrid, it’s alright. Perhaps we should head up to the feast now, if you’d like, make sure we’re in time for the Sorting.”

“Good idea ‘Ermione, very good idea.” 

Hagrid nodded, pulling out of the doorway and allowing Fang through to bestow a healthy amount of slobber onto Hermione’s...everything. She didn’t mind though. She had missed him too, and a few quick charms fixed the state of her robes.

“Shall we then?” Hagrid asked after blowing his nose into a large polka dotted handkerchief. 

“Yes, we shall.”

They made the trip back across the grounds, Hagrid managing to pull himself together before they had to enter the Great Hall. Hermione felt a sudden lurch of nerves in the pit of her stomach. She had been here a thousand times before, sure, but never as a professor. Walking up to the head table, she found herself searching for the one pair of eyes she knew could reassure her in this moment. She found another set entirely, however.

Ice blue eyes met hers in a cold stare, but as soon as he realized it was her he was looking at he seemed to effortfully turn it to something more neutral. As though aloof was the best he could manage in the presence of a Mudblood. Not that she cared.

She used the energy she might have spent being indignant with Malfoy to carry her up to the head table, taking her seat next to Hagrid and a chair that was, as of yet, unoccupied. It didn’t remain that way for long. Moments before the Sorting Ceremony was due to start, the body belonging to the pair of eyes she had been searching for earlier deposited itself into the chair next to her.

“Hello Hermione.”

Harry Potter grinned at her, his eyes a reassuring, familiar green, so far from the pale blue she had settled for earlier.

“Professor Potter.” She gave him a cheeky wink. “I see the rumors are true. You have successfully broken a curse that’s been around longer than you’ve been alive.”

“We’ll add cursebreaker to my list of titles.” He chuckled. “I’ll start signing all my letters, ‘Harry Potter, Hogwart’s Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, The Boy Who Lived, Breaker of Curses.’ That won’t make me sound arrogant at all, will it?”

“I think it rather works for you. They should give you the Order of Merlin, First Class, throw another one in there.”

“I’ve missed you.” He smiled at her, and in that moment Hermione felt more at home than she had in months.

“Well,” she said primly, wiping at her eyes. “You wouldn’t have to if you’d come around more often. Gin’s been dying to see you, you prat.”

“Always scolding.” 

She could hear the warmth in his voice though, and knew that he felt, if not the same, then similar to her.

“Sssshhh, they’re bringing in the first years.”

And indeed they were, tinier than Hermione ever could have remembered them being. Of course, she had seen a fair few of them in her last weeks at Flourish and Blotts, coming in to get their school supplies, but it felt different seeing them now all dressed up in their robes and waiting to be sorted.

“Are there fewer of them?” Hermione asked, brow furrowing.

In fact, the whole hall seemed emptier than she remembered it. Certainly emptier than it should have been, even given the...casualties.

“Fewer muggleborns. A lot of the parents are still being cautious. Can’t blame them really, considering the last time Voldemort was dead he didn’t really stay that way.” Harry sighed.

“They’ll come around,” she reassured him.

He just nodded, eyes trained on the fresh generation of junior witches and wizards before them.

Hermione’s eyes, though, were on the hat, and so she was ready when it began to sing.

Through ancient magics lost long ago

The Founder’s made me, friends turned to foes

My purpose being a simple one

To tell you which colors to don

Which house in which you each belong

But first I sing this simple song

As I do every fall

So now I shall remind you all

That even when friendships seem to fail

There are some bonds that still prevail

Should we stand all united

We may find all wrongs are righted

In the light of this new day

House colors seem to fall away

So though I must pull you apart

I hope you’ll heed the wisdom I impart

Gryffindor blood runs red and true,

Ravenclaw skies are clear and blue,

Hufflepuff gold will prove the strongest of metals

and Slytherin emeralds will prove to have mettle

In differences there is strength

But love and loyalty go the greatest lengths

So let go old wounds and let the past heal

Or you may find danger most real

On that ominous note, the Sorting proceeded quickly and, thankfully, unremarkably. Hermione and Harry lead the applause for every student, regardless of house, and when it was over McGonagall stood.

“A few words before we begin our feast this year,” she said, clearing her throat. “Firstly, I would like to welcome our two new professors. Professor Hermione Granger-” Loud applause lead by Ginny. “-and Professor Draco Malfoy.”

Draco’s name was met with a hushed silence, and a few quiet boo’s rang out before McGonagall shot them down with a stern look.

“As always, I expect new faculty to be treated with the respect and consideration deserving of their position. Any who disregard this will find themselves meeting with hasty consequences. I wish you all a very good year. Let the feast begin!”

And with that, Hermione’s first year as a professor at Hogwarts began.

#dramione #harry potter #dramione fic #draco malfoy #hermione granger #tw ptsd #draco malfoy x hermione granger #professor!draco #professor!hermione #ginny weasley #hogwarts #au #professor au #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers trope #enemies to friends to lovers #coworkers to lover

[jiuwuming]

Today Is Wingman Day, Ch. 1

Fandom: Red Velvet Pairing: WenJoy Words: 5.4k+ Rating: T Summary: Joy downloads Tinder. Wendy suffers through the trials and tribulations of being Joy's wingwoman for one day—while juggling some complicated feelings. Good thing Yeri's there to help them both in her own way. Links: ao3 | aff

Sooyoung leaned forward across the table. “So, listen…” she said, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, a sly smile tugging on her lips.  The hairs on Seungwan’s arms stood up.  A smile like that from Sooyoung spelled trouble—

“I’m thinking of hooking up with a girl.”

—and bad ideas.

There were few things Seungwan hated more than her sleep cycle getting cut short on a Saturday morning right after midterms.

As a university student smack dab in the middle of her senior year, tackling five whole courses and several extracurriculars that kept her up well into the early a.m.’s, Seungwan cherished every minute of sleep she could get. Admittedly, it was her own fault for being overambitious.  But after spending week after week downing espresso shots just to get through morning lectures, substituting a good night’s rest for caffeinated blood coursing through her veins, any weekend where she could finally sleep in was a luxury. A godsent gift.  And finally, after getting through the midterm exam week, she could finally get the relaxation she deserved.

The incessant vibrations of her phone against the bedside table, however, said fuck you, Seungwan.

Seungwan groaned, rolling over to her side to reach for her phone.  Who the hell was texting her a storm on a weekend morning?  A precious weekend morning!  She slapped her hands blindly on the table until she found the device, bringing it over to her face so she could read the offending name on the screen.

Park Sooyoung, 7:52 a.m.

She sat up immediately, blinking away the blurriness from her eyes as her vision adjusted to read the words in the slew of texts.

Hey.

Hey.

Hey.

Seungwan-unnie.

I need you.

Meet me at Café Eureka.

I have something to tell you.

Important news.

Cold dread crawled down Seungwan’s spine as she scanned the messages.  Any traces of her sleep-induced haze scattered like ashes in the wind.  It was never a good sign when Sooyoung sent her texts like these—full of urgency yet aggravatingly vague.  Was it good news?  Bad?  Seungwan had never been able to get a straight answer, and she’d long given up trying.  Any attempts for elaboration through text were always met with increasingly evasive non-answers, each one more cryptic than the last.  Coming from a typically blunt girl like Sooyoung, though, it was always a cause for alarm.

At least, it was cause for alarm, until Seungwan had figured out that Sooyoung just liked to mess with her.

See, historically, ‘important news’ from Sooyoung meant one of two things:

1.     either she really did have something important to share—like when she had just broken up with Sungjae and needed to be comforted, or

2.     she was just baiting Seungwan with the fear that there was something hypothetically wrong—only to trick her into coming over to her apartment, trapping her into doing something as inane as figuring out which color dress looked better on her.

So yes, lately ‘important news’ was a dice roll.  Over time, alarm over Sooyoung’s wellbeing had turned into wariness; wariness, into dread.  Dread of a flagrant waste of time.  Her best friend was a mystery at times, and Seungwan never knew which Sooyoung she was going to get on any given day.  Excitable Sooyoung?  Sad Sooyoung? Trickster Sooyoung?  

Well, there was only one way to find out.

Seungwan sighed as she uncovered herself from the nest of her warm, plush blankets, resigning herself to another sleepless day and to Sooyoung’s whims—whatever they were.

I’ll be there in a few, she texted back.

-

For a day that was nearing the tail end of March, the weather outside was still surprisingly wintry: frozen dew clinging onto bladed grass, flowers that were normally in full bloom at this point only just shy of budding.  Seungwan shivered as she stepped out of the dormitory, the chill of the cold spring air seeping through her white cardigan and into her skin.  Maybe waltzing out in jean shorts wasn’t such a good idea.  Out of all the advice she’d taken from Sooyoung, ‘dress for the weather you want’ (which was her go-to excuse for wearing skimpy clothing even in frigid temperatures) was probably the worst.

Not many other students were out and about at this time of day on a weekend. Especially not on a weekend after exams.  There was still the occasional ever-so-disciplined jogger looking to knock out their daily run early—Sooyoung was one of them, which was why she was always up so early—but the vast majority of the student populace was probably enjoying their time off. Doing things that Seungwan sorely wished she could also experience: lazing around in bed, drinking a cup of hot chocolate, recovering from a hangover after celebrating the freedom from the brutal crunch of midterm studying.

While Seungwan didn’t regret her impulse decision to minor in music on top of being a biology major, the bone-deep exhaustion after a strenuous school week was… something else.  She missed having leisure time.  A life outside of school dedicated to hobbies.  Having time to spend with friends.  Partying.

Dating might’ve been nice, too, Seungwan thought as she passed by a couple holding hands, bundled up in hooded bubble jackets.  They were strolling peacefully along the tree-lined paths that led to the city, pausing to take photos together against the sunrise-tinged lake.  Stopping to smell the flowers.  Poking each other’s cheeks.  Laughing.  Living in the moment as if they had all the time in the world.

It reminded her of how Sooyoung had been, back when she was with Sungjae.  Carefree and happy.  But here she was, forever single and without a lick of romantic experience.  Oh, how Seungwan wished she were one of the normal students sometimes.

“Unnie, good morning!” called out a voice that sounded entirely too cheery for a Saturday morning.  “Wait up!”

Seungwan’s shoulders tensed as she turned to see Yerim running to catch up to her, guitar case slung over her shoulder.  Kim Yerim. Resident prankster.  Sooyoung’s partner in crime.

There was a wide grin on her face as Yerim fell into step with her. Despite feeling wary toward her and cranky at being woken up early, Seungwan couldn’t help but return the smile. Yerim’s enthusiasm was infectious like that.  On good days, it made the semester a little more bearable when they shared their music composition class together; on bad ones, it foreboded a future of trouble because she was a little shit sometimes.  Like Sooyoung, Yerim was someone who always knew how to keep her on her toes.  A frightening pair, those two.  Especially when they put their minds together.

Even so, it was impossible not to have a soft spot for her.

“Yerim—hey!”  Seungwan pulled her in, wrapping her arm over her shoulder as they walked side by side.  Mostly, she just wanted to steal her body heat.  “You’re going to band practice?  You have a performance tonight at the new bar, right? What was it called—Tiki Island?”

“Yup!”  Yerim nodded, waving her sheet music in front of Seungwan’s face.  “Also, we’re finally going to try out that new tune that you helped me with earlier this week and see how it goes.  I think Seulgi-unnie is going to love it.  Thanks for that, by the way.”

“No problem, kiddo.”  Seungwan gave her a pat on the head.  “You had great melody—just needed some polishing on the harmonies.  You did say you’d pay me back anyway.”

“Of course, unnie.  I’m a woman of my word,” Yerim said.  With her big round eyes and angelic face, anyone else who didn’t know her as well would’ve been fooled into trusting the innocent smile that graced her lips.  But years of being swindled by that very smile had taught Seungwan better.

She raised her eyebrows.  “Uh huh. Sure.  The most reliable person I know, really.”

“You headed to Café Eureka?” Yerim asked, pointedly ignoring Seungwan’s jibe.

“Yeah, I am.  Did you want anything?  I could get you something to—wait.”  Seungwan narrowed her eyes suspiciously.  At second glance, the smile on Yerim’s face had turned more… smug than anything.  Like she was privy to a secret that Seungwan wasn’t. “How did you know?  Sooyoung told you something, didn’t she?”

“Ah.”  Yerim’s shoulders stiffened under her hold.  Before Seungwan could react to the obvious tell, she was already ducking out of her arm and booking it.  “Gotta jet!” she exclaimed.  “I’ll see you around, unnie!”

“Hey!” Seungwan yelled after her, but Yerim was already several meters ahead, breaking out into a full run.

Seungwan threw her hands in the air, shaking her fist at Yerim’s disappearing figure.  “Why does nobody tell me anything!”

-

Seungwan felt right at home as she stepped into Café Eureka, inhaling the aroma of freshly-made syrupy waffles and the woody scent of weathered books that lined the walls of the upper floor, sighing in relief when the cozy indoor heating soaked into her freezing thighs.

Café Eureka, like any other restaurant business at the edge of the city, wasn’t an overly fancy establishment, but it was her and Sooyoung’s favorite library café to frequent.  As a hybrid breakfast diner and quiet study place, with both sections split into two floor levels to separate the diners from the students, it was a boon for struggling undergrads who needed a break from schoolwork for a convenient quick fix or vice versa.  The food was good; the staff pleasant.  Overall, it was perfect aside from the drawback of being a trek from the main campus.

Once senior year had hit, she and Sooyoung had both become super stressed university students, constantly hunched over reading thick textbooks in dusty libraries through late nights, so it was nice just relaxing at a cute lowkey joint once in a while.  Not too unruly or greasy like fast food restaurants, not too hoity-toity like those hipster coffee shops with one too many bearded baristas wearing an offensive combination of torn jeans and smartwatches.  Café Eureka was nice in that way—just the right balance of homey and classy: comfort foods in the form of all-day breakfast meals, along with the refinement of an academic setting.

Although a bit cheesy, it was rumored that the owners had named it ‘Café Eureka’ to appeal to the student population.  A place where epiphanies were made, supposedly, from just spending time there and basking in the atmosphere.  Fresh food stimulating bright ideas, bright ideas paving way to brighter futures—that was something of its brand.  It was said so often by staff and clientele alike that Seungwan was surprised it wasn’t made into a slogan yet.

She found Sooyoung settled at the booth in the corner of the café—their usual spot that overlooked the park and waterfront outside.  The bright ambience really did help with keeping them alert during exam weeks—lots of tall glass windows, with each table partitioned by blue leather seats and tall mahogany posts framed by metal bars.  The seating arrangement was a bit reminiscent of a 1950s American diner, just without all the hustle and bustle.

From where Seungwan could see, Sooyoung was busy scrolling through her phone, eyebrows creased together in concentration.  An untouched plate of strawberry crepes lay on the table in front of her—the same thing she always ordered whenever they were together.  It wasn’t a surprise that she was still in her jogging outfit, but as a non-morning person Seungwan didn’t often get to see her wearing it.  She had to whistle at how modelesque Sooyoung managed to make it look, like she’d just walked right out of a high-profile athletic brand photoshoot: fingerless gloves, hair tied into a high ponytail, tight black leggings with mesh panels, a matching sports bra that gave a wide view of the well-defined abs on her stomach.  Even as a runner, she wasted no opportunity to show off the magnificent physique of her body.

Seungwan didn’t blame her.  The girl was chiseled like a Greek goddess, and she had every right to flaunt it.  Especially ever since the breakup from a few months ago, Sooyoung had doubled down on working out to take her mind off of things, to spend time taking care of herself.  The result was marvelous, of course: leaner arms, toner thighs.  Plumper, healthier gluts.  Even Seungwan herself was guilty of staring once in a while—but hey, it was a crime not to admire art, right?  Not that she’d ever make an obvious show of it.  Sooyoung would never let her live that down, with that ego of hers.

It was a good sign, though, that Sooyoung was out and about instead of moping around, as she was wont to do whenever a wave of bad moods struck her.  Like the week when she’d split up with Sungjae, or had gotten a C on her exam.  If she’d been feeling alright enough to go out for a jog, that had to mean whatever she had to tell her wasn’t terrible, at least.

“Hey,” Seungwan greeted, slipping into the seat across from Sooyoung.

“Unnie!”  Sooyoung lit up, placing her phone down as soon as Seungwan announced her arrival. “You came!”

Seungwan laughed.  Sooyoung reminded her of the puppies that she loved to take care of sometimes at the local animal rescue center—the bright eyes, excitable smiles.  One and the same.  “Yes, I did, you brat,” she said, though it wasn’t with as much bite as she’d wanted.  Then again, she couldn’t stay too mad if Sooyoung seemed happy.

“Brat?” Sooyoung echoed, placing a hand to her chest in mock offense.  “Excuse me—I’m anything but.”

“I think you demanding my time and attention before eight in the morning on a weekend constitutes as you being a brat.”

Sooyoung placed her hands on her hips and glared, bottom lip jutting out in the way that forecasted whenever she was about to summon her grossest baby-aegyo voice.  “Unnie.”

“No,” Seungwan said, looking away.

Protests never stopped Sooyoung, though.  In fact, they always seemed to encourage her.

“Why don’t you ever want to spend time with me anymore?” Sooyoung whined, voice rising in pitch with every word.  “I just wanted to see you.  You’re so mean!  Hmph!” She punctuated her harrumph with a shrill squawk, cheeks puffing out.

Seungwan’s mouth twisted into a scowl, cold shivers rolling down her body.  She couldn’t even stop the gagging noises that emerged from her throat.  Sooyoung broke character at that, cackling as she pointed at the disgust undoubtedly written all over her face.

“Well, you must be in high spirits if you’re out here doing this,” Seungwan scoffed.  “I’m guessing that ‘important news’ isn’t a bad thing this time?”

“I’ll get to that later,” Sooyoung wheezed out, still recovering from her laughing fit, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Later?”  Seungwan let out an exasperated sigh.  Of course. “What—”

Sooyoung clapped her hands together.  “First things first, unnie!” she exclaimed, peeking her head outside the booth and snapping her fingers.  At her cue, the waiter walked over to their booth, a platter full of food on his hands.

“Rainbow fruit yogurt parfait for Son Seungwan-ssi?” the waiter presented, a teasing lilt to his voice.

It was Jongdae—one of the regular morning employees who usually ended up serving them more often than not.  Being regulars at Café Eureka, he was long past just a familiar face in the establishment. He felt more like an older brother at times to the both of them, even going as far to preemptively serve them their usual orders before they could even formally request the food themselves.

He smiled as he placed the plate in front of her: an assortment of cleanly chopped fruit—watermelon, mandarins, pineapple, kiwis, and grapes—placed in neat rows, separated by yogurt and granola within a tall glass cup.  Her favorite.  She hadn’t bought it in a while, though, since she was on a budget and it was expensive to order on a daily basis.

“I guess you finally have enough money now to splurge, huh?” Jongdae quipped.

“Actually,” Sooyoung interjected.  “It’s my treat for her.”

Seungwan blinked, mouth falling into an ‘o’ shape.  She looked back at Sooyoung, who was already staring at her with a smug grin, elbow propped on the table as she rested her chin on her palm. Just sitting there, looking like she was so proud of herself.

“Whoa.”  Seungwan couldn’t say she wasn’t impressed by Sooyoung’s thoughtfulness.  Not that she had expected to come out completely drained after meeting up or anything, but it was nice to know that Sooyoung could still surprise her with small gestures like this.

“Are you bribing her, or something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing like that,” Sooyoung denied, though the smirk on her face made Seungwan feel a little unsettled.

Jongdae snickered.  “Well, I’ve got to go back to work now.  Enjoy, girls!” he said, bowing before he left.

“Thanks, oppa!” Seungwan called after him.

Sooyoung pushed the parfait closer to her, placing a spoon in her hand.  “Bone ape tit, unnie.”

“I think the phrase is ‘bon appétit’, but thanks.”

“Am I still a brat?” Sooyoung asked, batting her eyelashes.

Seungwan smiled despite herself.  Maybe it was worth going out after all.  “Aside from grossly butchering the French language?  You’re alright, I guess,” she conceded.

“Bon appétit, then,” Sooyoung said, slicing into the crepe with her fork, slathering a generous helping of cream over it.

It looked good.  Seungwan’s mouth watered at the sight of it.  “Hey, let me have a bite of that?” she requested, opening her mouth wide.

The fork halted before it reached Sooyoung’s mouth.  She shot her an incredulous look.  “Unnie, you have one whole parfait in front of you.  You’re really going to make me sully my fork with your cooties before I even try my own crepes?”

“Don’t be difficult.  You’re the one who pestered me to come see you.  Besides, I haven’t tried it in a while.”

“Are you sure you aren’t the brat?” Sooyoung laughed, extending the mouthful of food out to Seungwan.  “You should be honored.  I don’t spoon feed just anyone, princess.”

Seungwan’s eyes lit up as she bit into it.  “Mm!  No wonder why you love this so much,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

“Yep!  Well, glad to know it’s fantastic as usual.”

“It is.”

Spooning her own parfait, Seungwan took her first bite, humming contently as the taste of kiwis and creamy Greek yogurt melted on her tongue.  Ah, fresh fruit.  Definitely hit the spot.  Crepes were good, but nothing beat a helping of fresh fruit in a parfait.   “It’s delicious.  Thank you, Sooyoungie—you seriously ordered this for me?”

“Duh.  I wasn’t going to drag you out here from the freezing cold in the morning for nothing.”

“Why did you, then?”  

Sooyoung leaned forward across the table.  “So, listen…” she said, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, a sly smile tugging on her lips.  The hairs on Seungwan’s arms stood up.  A smile like that from Sooyoung spelled trouble—

“I’m thinking of hooking up with a girl.”

—and bad ideas.

Seungwan whipped her head up from the parfait, mouth stopping mid-chew.  Her eyes widened to saucers.  “What.”

“I’m thinking of hooking up with a girl,” Sooyoung repeated, eyes twinkling in the way they always did whenever she took in Seungwan’s distraught expressions. Clearly, she was enjoying herself.

Seungwan set her spoon down slowly, swallowing her last bite before she irrevocably choked on it.  She’d been so absorbed in eating that she’d nearly forgotten that Sooyoung had dragged her out for a purpose.  Right. The ‘important news’.

Something actually important, or just a bait?

For once, Seungwan wasn’t sure which it was.

She didn’t even know Sooyoung was into girls in that way.  She’d been dating Sungjae for the majority of the time Seungwan had known her—a few months into their first year of school—so she could see why there wasn’t much opportunity for Sooyoung to express interest in the fairer sex.  Sure, Sooyoung had made a couple of comments about girls here and there that warranted a bit of eyebrow raising, but Seungwan thought that was just how she was.  No filters and unapologetically shameless.

Like when she’d half-jokingly considered bombing her organic chemistry exam just so she could get extra tutoring from the hot teacher’s aide, Bae Joohyun. Or when she’d gone slack-jawed watching Seulgi, their mutual friend from Yerim’s band, dance in a well-fitted suit and remarked I can see why they call her ‘oppa’.  Or when she’d said girl butts were more fun to look at than man butts—and oh god, Seungwan was an idiot.

Sooyoung liked girls.  How could she have missed it?

When she came to from her (extremely belated) revelation, Sooyoung was still staring at her expectantly.  Right, she hadn’t even answered her yet.

“Uh,” Seungwan said eloquently, licking her lips to catch a stray granola bit hanging off the edge of her mouth.

“Well?  Thoughts?” Sooyoung prompted.

What was even the proper response when your best friend simultaneously came out to you and announced she wanted to hook up with a girl—all in one breath?  “Congratulations?” she offered.

“‘Congratulations’ is damn right!” Sooyoung asserted, slamming a palm on the table, plates rattling with the force of the thump.  Seungwan winced, gripping her parfait glass to steady it.  “It’s been months since I’ve broken up with Sungjae. Can’t a girl treat herself?”

“Treat herself… to a hookup?”

Seungwan could already feel herself growing some white hairs.  This was all coming out of left field, honestly—Sooyoung liking girls, Sooyoung wanting flings with girls.  For all the years they’d known each other—ever since freshman orientation—Seungwan had never thought Sooyoung as the type do anything scandalous, like hitting the clubs in hopes of engaging in one-night stands.  Despite her outwardly flirty nature, she was a romantic at heart.  Someone who valued stability.  Softness. Not hedonistic passion.

“That’s right,” Sooyoung confirmed cheekily.

“And this is a good idea—how?  Why?” Seungwan rubbed her temple.  Having a bomb like this dropped on her definitely was not how she envisioned spending her Saturday morning.

Sooyoung picked up her fork, finally digging into her crepe.  She popped a strawberry into her mouth, chewing slowly as she looked out the window.  Seungwan followed her gaze, and outside she could see the couple she passed from before, still ambling near the lake.  She hadn’t noticed earlier, but they were both women.  Wow, she really was oblivious sometimes.  

“You know, I was always curious about how it’d feel like.  Being with a girl.  Even before I accepted that about myself.”

The tone of her voice sounded a bit more contemplative now.  Like she’d actually been mulling the idea over in her head, instead of tossing it out there just to throw Seungwan off balance. Maybe this was a serious matter after all.

“You never told me,” Seungwan said, hiding the frown that tugged at her lips behind another spoonful of yogurt.  The watermelon had turned mushy.  Great. “That you like girls, I mean.”

Sooyoung shrugged.  “Yeah, I’m bi.  I thought it was pretty obvious, unnie.  I just didn’t think it was necessary to talk about, with me dating Sungjae and all.”

Bi. Sooyoung was bi.  Seungwan felt her ears warming, hearing that out loud. She wasn’t embarrassed—just… caught off guard.  Yeah, that was it.  It was such a Sooyoung thing to do, confessing an important secret so casually. Flippantly, even.

“You could’ve told me,” Seungwan grumbled, pouting.  Did Sooyoung think she was homophobic?  She wasn’t!  Sooyoung knew that, too.  She had to, right?  When Yerim came out to them as a lesbian, neither of them had even batted an eyelash, accepting her with open arms.  Well, it wasn’t like she was entitled to know everything about Sooyoung, even if they were best friends, but still…

“I could’ve,” Sooyoung agreed, looking back at her, laughing when she saw her face.  “Why so grumpy?”

“Did you think I would judge you?” Seungwan blurted out without thinking. She couldn’t even keep the hurt from her voice.

Sooyoung frowned at that, sobering up instantly.  “No, that’s not it.”

“Then—”

“Hey,” Sooyoung said softly, reaching over to grasp Seungwan’s hand. “I know what you’re thinking when you have that look on your face—” Seungwan wrinkled her nose.  What look? “—but you know I would trust you with my life, right?”

The fact that Sooyoung could read her so easily was a bit terrifying.  Her shoulders slumped as she stared into her parfait instead of meeting Sooyoung’s gaze.  “Sorry,” she mumbled.  “I know it’s none of my business.”

“Like I said, it’s not like that.  I just thought it’d be more fun if you found out this way.”

Seungwan rolled her eyes, but she didn’t mind when Sooyoung interlaced their fingers together.  Her hand was warm.  “More fun for you, maybe,” she huffed.

“Yep!” Sooyoung chirped, leaning forward to poke her cheek.  “So don’t be such a baby, okay?”

The way Sooyoung’s finger dug into her dimple tickled, and it made her laugh as she withdrew her hand.  Sometimes Seungwan hated that she could be placated so easily.  “Well, I guess it was kind of funny,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck.  “And to be honest, I should’ve expected it.”

“Yeah, well, you heterolinis can be dumb sometimes.”

“Heterolinis?”  Seungwan frowned.  She was less offended at being called dumb than baffled at Sooyoung calling her a… a heterolini.  Where did she even come up with that?

“Yeah.  You know—straight people, with their straight lives, always viewing things through their straight lenses.”

Seungwan gaped.  She wasn’t that bad, was she?  “I’ve never even had a boyfriend.  Who knows if I’m straight?”  She furrowed her eyebrows, head tilting quizzically at the words that came out of her own mouth.  Why was she even arguing?  She’d barely even questioned her own sexuality before.

Sooyoung eyed her skeptically.  “Girl, the number of times I’ve caught you staring at Cha Eunwoo from the music department, though…”

Heat rose to Seungwan’s face.  “And what about it!” she protested, jabbing her spoon into the parfait and taking an angry bite out of it, munching loudly.  “He’s beautiful!”

“Yeah, so?” Sooyoung scoffed, crossing her arms.  “So am I, but you’re not attracted to me.”

Seungwan’s eyes widened.  Whoa. Sooyoung really went there. Abort, abort, abort.

“When did you even figure out that you were bi?” Seungwan asked instead, floundering for a change of topic.

Rather than replying, Sooyoung delicately placed her fork down on her plate, metal clacking against ceramic.  She clasped her hands together, looking out the window again.  Birds chirped outside. The front door of the café jingled with the arrival of new customers.

When Sooyoung went quiet a few seconds too long for comfort, Seungwan fidgeted in her seat, backpedaling.  “Sorry—was that too personal?”

“It’s fine.  I was just thinking.  I think I always kind of knew—but it probably only hit me a year ago or so?”

“Oh, wow.”  Seungwan’s eyebrows shot to her forehead as she took in the new information.  A year ago.  That had to mean…  “You were still dating Sungjae at the time?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you two broke up?”

“No,” Sooyoung answered immediately.  Her lips pursed into a thin line as she swept her fingers over her hair, pushing them away from her eyes.  “Well—not entirely.  Yes and no. We had our differences, but I can’t say it didn’t factor into it.  He didn’t know, though.  I never told him.”

“Ah.”

“Mhm.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence as they went back to eating, the scrape of utensils the only noise filling the air.  Seungwan grimaced.  Sooyoung never went into the details of the breakup before, but Seungwan hadn’t expected that to be part of the reason.  She really had to be nosy and open up old wounds, didn’t she.

When it was clear Sooyoung wasn’t going to elaborate any further, Seungwan cleared her throat.  “Oh, yeah! So, anyway—about girls.  You wanted to try hookups?”  She cringed as the words left her mouth.  Hookups.  It sounded so crass.

Sooyoung perked up, a wide grin spreading on her face as though nothing had happened, and Seungwan was thankful it was that simple to dispel the awkward atmosphere between them.  “Yeah! I installed Tinder—I was just setting up my profile right before you showed up.”

“Tinder?” Seungwan repeated.  “Like, for local randos?  Not someone from our school?”

“That’s the point of hookups.”  Sooyoung rolled her eyes.  “I’m not supposed to see them again.”

Seungwan pressed her lips together as she regarded Sooyoung.  Sooyoung, who always cried at the climax of romantic comedy movies.  Sooyoung, who once dumped a boy she was seeing simply because her Maltese puppy, Haetnim, didn’t like him.  Sooyoung, who—despite having a reputation for being a flirtatious tease—valued the fine art of courtship.  Late-night candlelit dinners, picnics under a blanket of stars.

“This isn’t usually like you,” Seungwan pointed out.

“Yeah, maybe I just wanted to try something different.  Something uncomplicated, no strings attached.”

“Why not dating, though?”

“Because I’m probably not ready for a relationship right now?  And also, I’d really just like to kiss a girl.”

“Oh.”  Seungwan flushed at the mental image of Sooyoung doing just that.  Stupidly sexy Sooyoung, kissing a girl—not for the titillation of men but for herself.  “Wow.”

“What is it?” Sooyoung asked.  Seungwan didn’t like the look on her face—the annoyingly self-satisfied smirk that suggested she knew exactly what Seungwan was thinking.

“Nothing,” Seungwan said, shaking the idea from her head.  “Just getting used to you being bi.”

“Well…” Sooyoung began.  She slid out of her seat and into Seungwan’s side of the booth, a devilish sparkle in her eyes.  Her voice had turned husky.  “I think I have an idea of how to help you.”

Their hips bumped together as Sooyoung pushed her farther inside to make room for the both of them.  She pressed in so closely that Seungwan could catch a hint of the fruity floral perfume she always wore.  Plums and peonies.  Of course she had to smell intoxicatingly nice even after a jog.

Seungwan tensed, fingers gripping onto the hem of her shorts.  “Help me… get used to you being bi?”  Why did that sound so ominous?

“Yep.”

“How?”  Seungwan didn’t know if she liked where this was going.

Sooyoung gave her an impish, lopsided smile as she leaned in, maintaining eye contact with Seungwan the whole way even when the distance between their faces shortened to mere centimeters.  Seungwan’s neck craned back as she strained to put space between them, head bumping against the window, and she had to hold her breath so it wouldn’t mingle with Sooyoung’s.  Goosebumps rose on the surface of her arms at the heat radiating from the other girl’s body. It felt nice after walking in the cold for so long, but suddenly Seungwan found herself at a crossroads: uncertain if she wanted to pull her closer for warmth or push her away for her own sanity.

Finally, after what seemed like several excruciating seconds, Sooyoung spoke.

“I…”  Sooyoung licked her lips, moving in almost impossibly close—so much so that their noses almost touched, and it took all of Seungwan’s willpower not to scream.  “…am going to have you—”

She jabbed a finger onto Seungwan’s chest.  Oh, hell.

“—help me pick out a date!” she declared cheerfully.

Before Seungwan could even process what was happening, Sooyoung had already pulled away, slapping a couple of 10,000 won notes on the table to foot the bill, laughing and slipping out the booth with a jolly spring to her step.

Seungwan exhaled shakily once she actually had room to breathe again, feeling a cold draft of air in the absence of Sooyoung’s presence.  “Huh?”

What?

What?

“Come on, Seungwan-unnie!  Let’s go back to my apartment.  I want to shower already, and we can talk more about it there!”

Rooted in place, Seungwan stared after Sooyoung as she made her way to the front of the café, unable to shake how fast her heart was pounding.

What!!!

Once her brain kicked back into gear, Seungwan rushed to scarf down one final spoonful out of her parfait before chasing after Sooyoung—curse her and her long legs.  She noshed on the granola, savoring every munch and crunch as though it could smother the budding realization that threatened to slip out from the tip of her tongue.

She chanced a look back at her wristwatch.  It was only 9:17 a.m.

It was going to be a long, long day.

#red velvet #wenjoy #ninepointfive writes

[pansyaparkinson]

Under the cut is a formatted version of Pansy’s application, since Tumblr has decided to be mean (once again): 

OOC

Name: Karli

Age: 29

Pronouns: She/Her

Timezone: CST 

Writing Sample: Please provide a link to some writing. This does not have to be from a roleplay specifically, though it is preferred.

Ships: Pansy/Chemistry is ultimately the most important thing to me. I have this weird soft spot for Pansy/Goyle after some chemistry I had with a Goyle when I played Pansy in another rpg and I’ve shipped them ever since! But it’s not something I would need to have. Mostly, I’m excited to play her coming back to Britain and reconnecting with all the folks from her past! 

Anything else?: Pansy’s favorite color is red (despite the - ugh - Gryffindor colors!) and she often sports a crisp, pristine red lip that almost looks like blood. 

IC - Overview

Full name: Pansy Auria Parkinson (Delvaux) - Pansy managed to keep her surname under the pretenses of her career, having been known within her line as a Parkinson. She uses Parkinson for her professional and personal life - but will call herself a Delvaux if it helps her get ahead or in polite French company.

Age: 40 (31 December 1979) - Yes, she throws the most extravagant New Year’s Eve parties in celebration of her birthday. 

Gender: Cis-female (she/her)

Sexuality: Heterosexual. Pansy will be the first one to tell you that she likes cock. But only when that cock does whatever she wants. She’s not necessarily homophobic in the “normal” sense where she really cares who is fucking who - but she definitely makes homophobic jokes sometimes and, even if she loves you (looking at you, Draco!), you can’t escape her rolling her eyes a bit whenever the topic of sexuality comes up. She’s definitely going to hit you where it hurts if she’s angry. 

Blood status: Pureblood

Former Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Occupation: Designer for Twilfitt and Tatting's

The shoppe, Twilfiit and Tatting’s, has been owned by the Parkinsons for generations. The oldest son, Malcolm, Pansy’s father, had inherited the business from his father. Malcolm, however, had plans far greater than his father could have dreamed. While Twilfitt and Tatting’s location in Diagon Alley brought enough money in to sustain the family fortune, Malcolm wanted to expand.

Throughout Pansy’s childhood, he was in constant discussion with other businessmen to open new locations throughout various places in Europe. It took a lot of time away from his family, but tripled their income and made Twilfitt and Tatting’s the place to get high end robes, clothing, and accessories.

Pansy started scribbling designs for new outfits when she was young, but her father would not take them seriously until after graduation, when he finally allowed her visions to become a reality. The Auria line (named for Pansy’s middle name) became the fastest-selling line Twilfitt had ever seen.

But it wasn’t enough. While her father was never a Death Eater - much too busy being successful to follow a man with no fashion sense at all! - he did a lot of his business with people who were. As those wizards and witches were caught and sent to Azkaban for Voldemort-supporting acts after the war, Malcolm’s businesses began to fail.

The Parkinson’s were losing money fast at that time - something they’d mainly been able to keep from the public eye - and Pansy had to step up and find a rich man to marry in order to help the business stay afloat. Pansy’s mother, Cordelia, did not want to fall from grace like those Malfoy’s, after all.

Pansy did manage to do just that - find a man, save the company, and is now the leading designer within the multiple Twilfitt establishments. Her line is sleek and expensive, mainly geared towards fashionable and rich witches. (Link to some of the clothing will be posted below within the “extra” section). She’s very happy with her career… but it came at what costs?

Marital Status: Widowed.

Pansy met Armand Delvaux when she was just twenty-three years old on a trip to the shoppe in Paris, which had been doing rather well until the fall of Voldemort. On their last bit of finances, the ability to keep the fact that the Parkinsons were actually broke was becoming harder and harder to manage. Meeting Armand had been a gift from Merlin itself, it seemed. Rich he was, though not so handsome, he was forty-two years Pansy’s senior and had lost his original wife in an unfortunate potions accident when the woman was rather young.

Pansy had gotten to work quickly, making herself known as available (though not too available) and Armand had fallen for her even before her knees hit the ground. Honestly, those Gryffindors complaining about torture under the Carrows know nothing until they’ve stuck a wrinkly penis in their mouth to save the family. 

They were married within just four months of meeting one another, something his grown children (there are three of them, two daughters and a son - the middle one the same age as Pansy herself) were very vocal about not being in agreement with. While Pansy lived her life with her husband without loving him, she did love what he had to offer her. The funding for Twilfitt went back up - the Paris shoppe suddenly bloomed - and they were able to expand farther than even her father had expected.

The shoppe is now the leading brand for expensive, designer clothing with Pansy at its helm. When Armand died two years ago - rather young for wizards, but Armand had always been known to experiment with the tobacco he put in that pipe of his and his poor heart suffered - she inherited 85% of his money (despite more protests from her stepchildren, really they’ve been such a pain!). With that money, she purchased a rather loftily flat in England with a direct connection via floo to her estate in Paris. The last two years, she’s split her time between the two, but the excitement of France has recently died down and she’s been spending much more time with old friends in England.

Faceclaim: Katie McGrath (1st choice), Eva Green (2nd choice), Lucy Hale (younger) - I would prefer the Katie/Lucy match, as I feel like they have more similarities and also Katie’s supergirl resources and a few others are TOTALLY Pansy-esque 

Summary: A lot of Pansy’s life shortly after the war had been defined by that one moment in the Great Hall - and, really, how unfair was that! She’d only wanted to have her school stay undestroyed and her friends kept safe, after all. The Parkinsons had never chosen a side in the war, safe from any harm regardless of what happened given their pureblooded status. Pansy herself hardly thought about the war at all - and yet, she was being punished publicly for it. While there was no trial or prison for her - the backlash her old classmates gave her for trying to give Potter up to the Dark Lord was enough to make her bristle. That, combined with the Parkinson fortune dwindling, made Pansy run away to Paris to find a rich husband and start a new life. She settled with a man forty-two years older named Armand Delvaux and the failing business her family owned - Twilfitt and Tatting’s - began to thrive again with his money. Pansy herself found passion in fashion designing and her Auria brand is known as one of the leading brands in high-fashion clothing sales. While she spent most of her life after school travelling between Paris and London, she has decided to plant herself anew in the country of old friends and enemies again, now that her dear old husband has died. Many still think of her as that bitch from school and they aren’t wrong… but, cut her some slack, she’s grown up… a little bit. 

IC - In Depth

Discussion

I included a lot of this discussion above in places I felt they made most sense, but below is a discussion of various things I have yet to add:

-Pansy is not ashamed of what she did during the war because, quite honestly, she hardly did a thing. She was no Death Eater - there was no Azkaban for her. As far as anyone knows, Pansy is the same person as she always was… but maybe just a bit nicer. Of course, that’s a laugh! She’s playing nice because it’s what this new wobbly feelings world wants her to be. She’s still not going to hold hands with Weasley or tell Granger she’s pretty or something insane like that! She’s got standards. She just might not spike your drink with laxative potion for a laugh anymore… well, not much potion anyway. Potter can miss one day of work for her entertainment. 

-Pansy is ambitious. She’s a Slytherin for a reason, after all. She’s a designer (not a shoppe keeper, to anyone who may ask, thank you very much!) and values her work. She spends hours working on new pieces for her Auria line and won’t stop until it’s perfected. Some people think fashion is silly - but Pansy knows the truth. It’s an art form. Some wizards have just yet to discover it.

-Pansy is not nice. While she can play at it with a smile when she has to, she’s not above backhanded compliments and manipulation. She’s such a gossip and shouldn’t be trusted with any secret. Who’s dating who (or who’s fucking who, more like it) will be spread like Fiendfyre… whoops, don’t mention that word in front of poor Draco and Gregory… they get a bit sensitive. Pansy “forgot.” 

-Perhaps the most curious thing about Pansy is that she both cares and doesn’t care about what other people think about her. It’s why she’s so mean - it’s easier to be the one on top putting everyone else down than have it possibly happen to her. When someone brings up her betrayal of Potter before the final battle, Pansy pretends to easily shrug it off with a perfectly presented insult and a roll of the eyes. But, the truth is, there’s a reason she uses make up potions and wears nice clothes and keeps all the flyaways out of her hair… the better she looks, the less fodder everyone else has for the fire. 

-While there was no actual punishment for Pansy after the war, given she never fought for any side, the way those old classmates of hers viewed her after the stunt in the Great Hall was punishment enough. They looked down on her, something that brought up a whole lot of insecurity for her in a way she hated. It was enough to push her to France, agreeing to look after the shoppe there, and allowed her to settle into security with a husband she didn’t love.

-In fact, she did not love Armand at all - even for a second. While Armand was kind to her in some respects, he also very much underestimated her. Kept her out of the discussions when Twilfitt went into business with the Delvaux Company. She could play at her “little designs”, but could not truly take over the business, despite the fact that her line made the business the most money out of anything else they sold. In Armand’s mind, business was no place for a woman, something Pansy was unabashedly in disagreement with.

-Pureblood families - particularly families from higher society - have always stressed reproduction. While marriages are ideally full of love and children, creating an heir has always been the higher standard within the society that Pansy grew up in. She was supposed to get pregnant - supposed to have children and carry on the bloodline, despite any children she may have had not taking on the name Parkinson. That didn’t happen. In the end, it was discovered after trips to several different healers that Pansy could not, in fact, have biological children. Armand was alright with it, as he had three other children to carry on his name, including a son. Pansy could’ve considered adoption - she could’ve considered surrogacy. Instead, she decided that her life would be devoted to her career. She never truly liked children, anyway - just thought becoming a mother was what was expected of a young woman like her. In the end, she has found she feels very fulfilled. She’s usually very happy with her choice, but that doesn’t stop from the occasional pang of resentment and sadness whenever she sees old friends and acquaintances with their growing families. 

-Despite what many believe, Pansy does love her friends. Draco is an actual treasure! Even if she is mortified by the way she threw herself at a gay man once upon a time. She very much values his friendship and has spent many visits to England with him. Daphne, too, is practically her soulmate. Pansy adores the woman who has been friends with her since Hogwarts. While Daphne’s status from Spindrift Lane meant she was more easily manipulated, Pansy loves that in a friend. She’s always been Queen Bee, after all.

-But just because she loves you doesn’t mean you’re safe. She’s mean whenever she wants to be - nice whenever it serves her. She might order her friends around sometimes and give backhanded compliments (Oh, your skin finally doesn’t look washed out today in that outfit!), but if anyone else tried to do that to someone she cared for, they’d be in for a rude awakening. Just because she can be a bitch doesn’t mean just anyone can talk to her friends like that! Even her own attitude has died down in recent years, as she grew older and things didn’t matter nearly as much. But she’ll still pull out the claws whenever she has to.

-Pansy is mostly in disagreement with Hermione’s Cerberus program. While she agrees that magical people shouldn’t be just going off with Muggles and therefore the Statute of Secrecy is important, she definitely doesn’t like the idea of people trying to watch her all the time. In her eyes, it’s a very prejudiced program. Who are considered the “suspicious ones?” The Slytherins from the war. Even though Pansy herself did not fight in the battle or even pick a side, she knows how people view her. Just because she was a Slytherin doesn’t mean that she’s off experimenting with Dark Magic and absolutely despises how this program will make her and others like her look.

- Pansy isn’t surprised more shit has arrived on that doorstep, but just like in the last war - she has no interest in playing a part (yet).

Plots

-Pansy is back in England now, almost permanently. While she does still visit France periodically, this is the first time she’s been in her home country more often than the other since she was twenty three. Yes, she’s stayed in close contact with her friends… but how will everyone else handle the Ice Bitch being back? She may have grown a bit throughout her time, but would they know it?

-Party on NYE? Pansy’ll throw it, so long as you bring her a gift!

-We have a plethora of Gryffindors and Weasleys and other do-gooders from the war (I play one of them, after all!) on the dash and I wanted to bring in someone who is opposite of Harry and who will give me The fog hardly interests her. Where there’s Hogwarts, there’s trouble. Where there are Weasleys and Potters and all the Gryffindors, there’s trouble.various plots. I’m not against the tension and definitely don’t expect people to just be happy with Pansy, who is rather mean about 70% of the time. I’m all for those interpersonal tension-filled plots.

-While I say Pansy doesn’t want to be part of the war, what I mean is that she’s not ready for it. If this fog business becomes worse - what happens then? She’s an adult now and likely can’t just hide behind not choosing a side. I would love it if she gets sucked into helping, rather than hurting, and is forced to work alongside all these people who probably hate her. If the Order is reestablished, perhaps she can join and be an actual asset. She’s got money - but she also has intel. Just because her husband thought business was no place for a woman didn’t mean Pansy abided by it. She knows more about the people her dad used to do business with than anyone thinks she does. She can be useful to the Order. She doesn’t want Lord Voldemort to come back, after all. He really fucked things up last time! 

Extras

The link to Pansy’ pinterest is located below. It includes pictures of the faceclaims and her designs for Twilfitt. 

https://www.pinterest.ca/karliandtaylor/pansy-parkinson/

#application #about

[lunamanar]

Off-the-Cuff First-impressions Review: Trials of Mana

I got Seiken Densetsu 3/Trials of Mana in the mail today and am surprised by just how excited I am about it. After the admittedly predictable letdowns of the Secret of Mana “remake” and the FFVIII “remaster,” not to mention the iOS revision of the former, you’d think I’d be jaded at this point. 

But! FFVII remake is Actually Good, and so far it looks like Trials of Mana is, while certainly lower budget, also Actually Good. The voice acting is kinda meh, but not bad enough to detract from the game in my opinion, and considering they are working with SNES-era scripts (the dialogue is 99% word-for-word the same as the more recent translation of the original SD3 game, so it’s going to be a bit stilted anyway) it’s really not bad at all. 

Besides, the actual meat of the game--the world, character and monster design, and the gameplay--is extremely solid and I have had very little trouble acclimating to it. It’s fun to play, it feels good to run around and explore the world and the battles are both very simplistic in a way that is familiar to an old fart like me and very satisfying in the way they function. One of the biggest weaknesses the original game had was absolutely horrendous input lag in some areas due to 1. the sheer size of the loaded map section, such as Rolante/Laurant, 2. The number of on-screen instructions the SNES had to process during battles, particularly during fights where you had massive sprites taking up the entire screen (the awful awful wall-guardian “Genova” [harhar] is probably the single hardest boss in the game purely due to input lag/drops; when you attack an enemy, even assuming your weapon swings when you tell it to, and that’s a big ‘if,’ the monster you are attacking is actually in a state which is several frames ahead of whatever state it visually appears to be in on-screen, making it extremely difficult to time your attacks properly to both defend and do optimal damage to what should have been a relatively minor “miniboss” fight). Trials of Mana, on the other hand, has none of those problems, simply thanks to more modern technology. So far every fight I’ve engaged in has been smooth and responsive as well as very visually appealing.

And wow is this game pretty. It’s not the most amazing example of the best graphical advances in gaming history, to be sure, but I genuinely don’t think that matters, as it’s still beautifully detailed and really does look like they took the original graphics and magicked them into more modern models. The re-imaginings of each area and monster are very faithful to both the aesthetic and the layout of the original design while at the same creatively expanding on them; I've had no trouble finding my way around familiar maps or identifying the bestiary, but I have found a lot of added depth to them, such as the ability to jump down on rooftops and find hidden nooks that were just static backdrops or otherwise out of sight in the original. The areas are more layered and interactive, but very importantly, nothing is missing. Not even the dogs and cats, who still bark and meow at you if you talk to them. I feel like I’m being allowed to see and explore the original maps from angles I didn’t have access to in the past. It really makes the 16-year-old in me unbelievably happy, to be able to finally, actually see and do these things I could only wish for back then. For people who have never played it, it’s probably a very pretty, if otherwise unremarkable experience, but for me it’s the granting of a wish I’ve had for a long time, but never expected to happen. 

Similarly, I think a lot of people will look at the plot for this game and go, “...what?” Because it really doesn’t seem to have been changed at all from the SNES version, aside from a few little tweaks to the dialogue here and there to ease the transition between some sections or correct for differences in game mechanics (of which there are only a few; again, this is definitely a remake--it remains the same game with the same mechanics at its core). This can lead to some pretty awkward interactions between characters, and at times it seems pretty clear that the voice actors weren’t given a lot of direction about the context of their lines. It’s not a bad story, but it’s a very simply told one, and feels more like it’s targeting 12~16 year-olds (which it probably is, to be fair) who might not care so much about nitpicking the semantics of the plot and character motivations. Which is to say, most of the characters who are not main protagonists or villains are painfully cardboard-flat. They do what they do and say what they say because it advances the plot for them to do and say those things. Elliot falls for a “trick” that I’m pretty sure most 4-year-olds would see through. The Bad Guys are 1-dimensionally evil, wanting to either destroy or take over the world, with the possible exception of Lugar and Koren who have slightly more complicated “I’m your rival” reasons. That leaves the complexity up to the protagonists to shoulder, and while I haven’t played that far into the game yet, thus far is is beat-for-beat and shot-for-shot the same as the original, so I expect that character-building will be left largely up to the player to mentally write in, especially since the game features light/dark class-changes as a feature of its progression. (I do kiiiind of hope that your choice in class changes has a more material effect on the ending’s outcome, but I think that might be asking a bit too much from a remake of this sort.) But the somewhat archaic plot and character arcs are not surprising and for me don’t take away any of the game’s charm. Nikita is still the best, the shop owners still dance inexplicably, the fact you can play a werewolf is badass, rabites are still cute, Don Perignon is still kind of a jerk. I’m very nervous/excited to get Busukaboo and Flammie and hope they’ll be as much fun now as they were then. And the whole world is so damn pretty, I’m just glad to be there. 

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the music. I’m not sure how much of a hand Hiroki Kikuta actually had in this remake, but the synth-orchestral arrangements of his originals are excellent so far. They’re both accessible/adaptable to the game’s sudden scene transitions (”Nuclear Fusion” starts and ends just as cleanly) while being a richer version of the themes, keeping close to the original sound while making better use of all the instruments that the SNES just wasn’t capable of emulating well. It blends very well with the rest of the game and I hope that continues to be true. 

I do have nitpicks; while I know it’s a popular mechanic, I don’t like the “shift-lock” sort of dash using the left analog stick as both directional and a button. I think the camera controls are solid, but I do wish there wan a toggle-option to have the camera just follow over your shoulder wherever you run until you either run into a battle or turn it off. The character models don’t seem especially affected by anything except the most intense/pervasive lighting and sometimes feel oddly out of place, like I’m watching one of those old movies where an animated character comes into the Real World. Some of the monster designs seem cute-ified more than I’d like. And I can’t help but think that if the game can be this nice as a third-tier title for SE, what could it have been if they’d but the resources behind it that they obviously did with FF7? I understand why they didn’t, but it’s hard not to wonder what it could have been if they had.  Seiken Densetsu is one of the most fraught series in the history of home video games and the fact that it’s even still around is something of a miracle, in my opinion. After the last...four?...titles following Legend of Mana, and the disappointment that was SD2′s (second!) remake, I really didn’t go into Trials of Mana with high hopes. I have been really, honestly pleasantly surprised. Even if you’re a diehard old-schooler who really doesn’t like modern JRPGs, if you have any nostalgia left for this series, you should give this one a go. I think it translated really well to 3D models, and what little it loses in the switch, it makes up for in playability. It’s not hard to pick up, it’s easy on the eyes and ears, it’s less grind-y than the original, and it doesn’t try to be more than what it is. I’ll probably always prefer the original, of course; there are too many memories attached to it for me, too many things that were groundbreaking at the time that are now old news or completely obsolete nowadays, and the new game certainly doesn’t push any modern boundaries. But it’s worth checking out, and especially if you’ve spent 20 years feeling let down by the Mana series, this might actually be the game you were hoping for, albeit maybe a decade late. 

#other games #seiken densetsu #seiken densetsu 3 #sd3 #trials of mana #sd3 remake #long post #i have not proof read this at all #wysiwyg #opinion

[readingraebow]

Dark Places Section One

Libby Day (Now) - Libby Day (Now) (approx pages 1-120)

1. Why does Libby not have to work? What does Jeff come to visit her about? In what way might Lyle be able to help solve her problem with Jeff? Libby's entire family was murdered when she was seven and a donation fund was set up for her. When she was eighteen she got access to the fund and she's been living off the money in the thirteen years since then. The fund has expanded a few times due to the tragedy reentering the press and small appearances and such in the years since. But now that Libby is 31, people don't really want to donate anymore because she's a grown woman now and there are new little girls who need their help. That's why Jeff sees Libby. He's basically her accountant/is in charge of the fund and he warns her that there's only 900 and something dollars left in the fund and it's time to start thinking about what to do when the money runs out. He suggests Libby find a job. But a letter from Lyle offers Libby a business proposition. She's to meet with his club and he'll pay her $700 just to show up.

2. When Libby gets to the place where the Kill Club meets, she sees booths all around of people obsessed with different crimes and murders. If you were part of the Kill Club, which crime would you have your booth themed? This is a super hard question because there are honestly so many that interest me? Lizzy Borden, Belle Gunness, Gertrude Banizewski, Aileen Wuornos, The Zodiac Killer, The Golden State Killer, H. H. Holmes (as you can see, American Horror Story has only added to my obsession with serial killers; oops), JonBenét Ramsey, Ted Bundy. But honestly the crime that probably interests me the most/I've researched the most/the one I'm most obsessed with is Columbine. So if I had a whole booth dedicated to something, it would be that one. I can literally talk for hours/days/years about Columbine and one time we had friends staying with us and they mentioned Columbine aND I WHIPPED OUT A POWERPOINT to talk about it. It's fine.

3. When Libby gets a chance to talk to the members of the Kill Club, what does she learn about how some of them feel? What does Libby admit that she didn’t actually see?She learns that most of them think Ben is innocent. One of the members in the group is actively trying to get him out of prison. But most of them think that Libby couldn't have possibly seen what she says she saw and that she was lying and was just led by the prosecution to convict the most easy target. They said the case had a spectacular lack of physical evidence and even Libby's testimony was incoherent at best and, yet, Ben was still convicted. The leading theory, though, is that Libby's father, Runner Day, is the actual killer. And while Libby staunchly believes that Ben is the killer, she honestly doesn't know because she was hiding in her mother's closet at the time of the murders and when she heard the murderer start searching the house for her, she jumped out the window and hid until morning. So while she testified that she saw Ben do it, she didn't actually see anything. But she heard everything.

4. What does Patty do for a living, and how is it working out for her? What bad news does Len bring to Patty? Patty runs the family farm. When she married Runner, they took it over from her parents. That was during the boom times and Runner was a little too enthusiastic about it. They ended up taking a loan out from the bank to expand and buy new equipment, thinking that the farm would perform well and they could easily pay it back. But that didn't happen and Runner ended up leaving and now Patty is running the farm alone. Well, she hasn't paid on the loan in three years and her crop doesn't even yield enough to support them and when she does make money from the crops it goes toward the loan but it's just not enough. And the last time Len visited, she had to have an auction and sell off her farming equipment for way less than it was worth and I honestly don't even know how she's running the farm at this point?? Anyway, when Len comes this time, it's to tell Patty that they're foreclosing and she's run out of options.

5. Who is Diondra? Who is Krissi? Diondra is Ben's girlfriend. She's two years older than him (she's 17, he's 15) and rich. Her parents hae another house in Texas and they spend most of their time there so she's left alone a lot and basically does whatever she wants, including not going to school most of the time. And she's who Ben's always talking to on the phone and her house is where he usually goes when he's out. She is basically the biggest influence in his life, at this point, and as soon as he turns 16 and can drive, Ben wants to run away to Wichita (of all places) with her and live in their own apartment and work in her Uncle's sporting goods store. However, there's also Krissi. She's in the grade above Michelle's and has a crush on Ben. He was asked to help with an after school art class one day and he did and that's where he met Krissi. He ended up volunteering to help that art class for another month. Krissi also lives like an hour or so away so she has to wait forever for her dad to pick her up after school so Ben started waiting in the stairwell with her for her dad. Well, one day just before Christmas break, he ended up making out with Krissi.

6. Why does Libby think it’s just as much everyone else’s fault Ben is in jail as it is her fault? Because the entire trial was basically a circus. Libby's testimony was all over the place but the prosecution lawyer led Libby exactly where he wanted her to go and basically convinced her to say Ben was guilty. The defense lawyer treated her like he was walking on egg shells which didn't help Ben in the slightest because all Libby did was defend the prosecution. And then were was Ben himself. He acted like he didn't care at all about the trial and when they asked him about Satanic worship, he just fed right into it. He also wore his long black hair in a ponytail and basically didn't really clean up for court and just looked and acted like a criminal. He didn't try to defend himself at all. The defense lawyer also tried to bring up the evidence that didn't match with Ben but he failed to really make a case and really defend Ben. So while Libby's testimony was the cornerstone of the trial, the entire thing was so poorly handled that it wasn't just Libby's fault Ben was convicted.

7. In what way does Ben act about being in jail when Libby goes to see him? Ben says he's okay with it. It's been almost 25 years and he's made his peace with being in prison. He realizes that a lot of it was his fault because he didn't take the trail seriously enough. He never, ever thought he would be convicted. He thought he would be acquitted and then he'd be more popular at school. But, clearly, that didn't happen. But he also doesn't blame Libby for her testimony and he doesn't think she's the reason he was locked up. He's honestly surprised that anyone believed her because she was seven and so clearly coached. He thinks the fact that anyone believed her just meant that they wanted him locked up and there's nothing he could do about it. And when Libby asks if he wants to get out, he says of course he does but he doesn't see that happening unless they find who really did it. He also says he doesn't have a good alibi for that night so it's not like he really has any ground to stand on if he wanted to appeal. So he's made his peace with being in prison and he's okay with it. It's like he thinks he's making up for not being home to save his family and not being man enough in the first place. But he's glad to see Libby because he really is homesick.

8. Who does Lyle think murdered the Day family and why does he think this? He thinks the Day family was murdered by Lou Cates, Krissi Cates's dad. Apparently the Cates family accused Ben of molesting Krissi and Lyle thinks that Lou came over that night to question Ben about it and went into a rage and just murdered the whole family. Apparently Lou had done time for manslaughter previously. He had a wild temper and finding out someone had hurt his daughter would've definitely set him off. (I don't buy that theory at all though??? The murderer called Libby's name and looked for her. If Lou was looking for Ben and just started murdering, he didn't know any of them and he wouldn't have known to look for Libby. He would've been looking for Ben.)

9. When Libby calls Krissi’s mother, where does she say Lou would be? Where does she say Krissi would be? She says Lou would be in a bar probably somewhere in the state of Kansas (helpful) and to find Krissi just go west on I-70 past Columbia (Missouri, I'm assuming? Since Columbia, Kansas is literally abandoned; also why is Kansas basically just a copy and paste of Missouri with the state name changed???? There are so many towns wITH THE SAME NAME O.O) and take a left into any of the strip clubs. So. Also wildly helpful. (Wow, Krissi's mom. Top job with your first family. You sound like a wonderful human being. Not. *eyeroll*)

  Section One Reading Journal

Okay so. We all know that I hated Gone Girl. But for some reason I, at some point, bought all of Gillian Flynn’s novels. And I even started reading one of the others (I thought it was this one but the first chapter isn’t what I remember reading so apparently it was Sharp Objects) but just never got around to finishing it. But her other novels honestly really do interest me. So all of that being said, I’ve been really excited to read this one and I honestly enjoyed this first section so much?? I really didn’t want to put it down.

I love that this story takes place in Missouri and Kansas. I love that Libby currently lives in Kansas City; that’s one of my absolute favorite cities. And that restaurant where she meets Jim Jeffreys I’m pretty sure I’ve eaten at with my aunts??? (It honestly sounded like it might’ve been Jack Stack.) So. Lots of fun little fangirl moments. (Also why do all of Gillian Flynn’s novels seem to take place in Missouri? That fascinates me so much. Though throwback to when I originally read Gone Girl and was talking to my mom about North Carthage and she was like “it’s just Carthage” and I was like no, it’s the one by St. Louis and she was like “no, it’s by Joplin, on the other side of the state.” So apparently that’s a town Gillian Flynn made up, ahaha.)

ANYWAY, I love that this is a really engaging and well written mystery. I’m definitely feeling more of a connection to it than I ever did to Gone Girl. I already like these characters more. And I didn’t figure out the twist five minutes into reading. (I do already have several theories about the murderer, though.) And basically I’m just all around liking this one more.

Though the only thing that’s really bothering me is that I hate that all of the flashbacks are written in third person but all of the present day Libby is written in first. That feels like a weird transition to me and I hate going from the past to present chapters because of it. I’m a big fan of continuity and that format isn’t it.

Also. Side note. Did we pick this book as the first book written by a popular author? Because this is actually Gillian Flynn’s second. We should’ve read Sharp Objects (which I also really want to read because the show looks AMAZING). So. Uh. Oops. I love that we’re so good at picking things. Throwback to picking Lolita for a classic romance. (Oops.) We are on top of things. Go us!

But all kidding aside, I really am loving this book and I can’t wait to devour the next section!!!! (Watch me not go to bed tonight and just read this entire book. That’s what I almost did last night. *shifty eyes*) Okay back to reading =))

#trcbooks #2015: dark places #2015 reading challenge

[mysterioustransmissions]

My favorite comics of 2017

Keeping with my new tradition of posting this list super late, here, on the last day of 2018, is my best comics of 2017 list. I can offer excuses -- my wife and I remodeled our house and welcomed our first child into the world this year, and I’m also unfailingly lazy -- but 2017 was also a killer year for comics, making this a bit larger of an undertaking than usual. Both Koyama Press and co-publishers Retrofit Comics and Big Planet Comics had absolutely stacked lineups. You’ll see them listed as publisher for many entries below.

I always struggle with how to order this list. I got serious about organizing my comics collection in 2018, and am running into the same problem. There, I’m thinking of dividing it into two -- a single-author section organized by author name (which ends up being mostly minicomics and graphic novels), and a multiple-author section organized by title (which ends up being mostly traditional-sized comics). Here, I’m essentially doing that same thing, but mixing them together; some entries are by title, and some author name.

Comics I especially enjoyed are marked with an *.

Allison, Matthew; Cankor: Calamity of Challenge #2 and #3 (self-published).

Berserker 1, edited by edited by Tom Oldham and Jamie Sutcliffe (Breakdown Press). There was a lot of anticipation and very specific expectations placed on this book ahead of its release, but no one seemed to walk away from the finished product satisfied. But it’s got a killer cover, great production design, and strips by some of the best cartoonists going. I hope Breakdown does another one.

* Booth, Tara; How to be Alive (Retrofit Comics & Big Planet Comics). One of the funniest books I’ve ever read. Booth’s drawings are a riot to look at, that the gags are also great is pure gravy. About as big as crossover hits get in my house. (I.e., my wife also loved it.)

Cardini, William; Tales From the Hyperverse (Retrofit Comics and Big Planet Comics). Cardini’s sci-fi world is made bigger and more engaging by the rapid-fire pace of this short story collection. His wild experimentation with color is always an inspiration.

Corben, Richard; Shadows on the Grave #1 - #8 (Dark Horse Comics). Not my favorite of Corben’s late-period Dark Horse horror books, but there’s plenty to enjoy. I was stunned by the sheer efficiency of the storytelling -- there are entire stories told with a single image and a few word balloons. A lot of these books sport great covers, issue #1 here, seen at the link for this entry, is one of the best.

Darrow, Geoff; The Shaolin Cowboy: Who’ll Stop the Reign? #1 - #4 with Dave Stewart (Dark Horse Comics). I was so bowled over by the experience of buying Shemp Buffet monthly that I initially scoffed at Cowboy’s return to more traditional narrative, but it turned out to be no less wild and no loss at all.

Davis, Eleanor; Libby’s Dad (Retrofit Comics & Big Planet Comics) and You & a Bike & a Road (Koyama Press). You & a Bike & a Road does something that’s often attempted and rarely successful -- it beats the audience down so it can then lift them up higher. Its success is due in no small part from its origin as a real-life journal. The visceral and emotional pain Davis feels on her journey is sincerely felt, and the lack of cynicism the storytelling choices are made with allow the reader to feel it whole cloth. And listen; it certainly doesn’t hurt that Davis is an amazing narrative storyteller besides -- Libby’s Dad is no less affecting.

DeForge, Michael; mini kuš! #43 'Meat Locker' (kuš!). I sleep on DeForge. I take him for granted. I feel like I’m not the only one? I see some excitement when his books come out, but no discussion. Blame it on the high volume and opaque nature of his work, the dearth of comics reviewers, and me, obviously. Also obviously, whenever something of his does find its way to my hands, I’m never sorry.

Estrada, Inés; Alienation #3 - #6 (self-published). The bundled version of this series, seen at the link for this entry, has the coolest book packaging I’ve ever seen in my life.

Expansion by Matt Sheean and Malachi Ward (AdHouse Books). I didn’t like this nearly as much as this same team’s previous Ancestor (due no doubt to its earlier and improvised creation), but damn, what a cover.

* Forsman, Chuck; Slasher #1 - #4 (Floating World Comics). I’d say the majority of my interest in Forsman’s work is in seeing how he presents his it and steers his career -- he’s among the best there is at that. Slasher is his first work I strongly connected with. It digs deep and gets wilder and wilder.

Ferrick, Margot; Yours (2dcloud). I’m a simpleton, so I was surprised at how deeply I was able to be moved by something this abstract. As always, grabbing 2dcloud’s whole line on Kickstarter expands my horizons and makes me a better reader.

Foster-Dimino, Sophia; Sex Fantasy (Koyama Press). I’ve actually only read the minis of this. This collection has the one I’m missing, plus some new material, but I love Sex Fantasy. It’s like a perpetual motion machine for thought -- you can just think about it forever.

Fricas, Katie; Art Fan (self-published). One of those things you dream of happening at a show -- picked this up at MICE not knowing anything about it, and was delighted by the artwork and knocked out by the “reviews of trippy art events”; particularly the first, about Duke Riley’s Fly by Night.

* Friebert, Noel; WEIRD6 (self-published), SPINE: I’ll Still Watch (Bred Press), Old Ground (Koyama Press). Sometimes when I have a fever, I can’t break loose of a single, circular thought -- I have the same thought over and over, only to realize once the fever’s broken that it was barely coherent. Friebert’s newer, decompressed work is like that. You turn page after page, and nothing happens. It’s the same characters still doing and saying the same things, again and again. You turn the pages faster and faster, almost in a panic, hoping to break the cycle and resolve the unease before you. But it’s no use.

* gg; I’m Not Here (Koyama Press), Valley (kuš!). I’m Not Here is one of a few books I recommended to people who were enjoying season 3 of Twin Peaks at the time. It doesn’t convey information so much as emotion, and rewards as much thought as you want to put into it.

* Hankiewicz, John; Education (Fantagraphics Books). I loved this so much I only read a few pages a night to make it last. Michael DeForge once called Noel Freibert an “astronaut” -- that applies to Hankiewicz also. No one’s ever done anything like this before, and if we didn’t have Hankiewicz I don’t think anyone ever would. Bringing poetry and modern dance (!!) into the language of comics, this was another book I recommended to watchers of season 3 of Twin Peaks -- you don’t understand the story by connecting facts, you understand it by connecting emotions.

* Hanselmann, Simon; Portrait, XMP-165 (self-published). XMP-165 was the first big payoff of the longform nature of Megg and Mogg, and it destroyed me. Also released this year was Doujinshi, Cold Cube Press’ gorgeous re-release of a Japanese Megg and Mogg fan comic.

Harkam, Sammy; Crickets #6 (The Commonwealth Comics Company). People talk about how good this book is, and I agree, but I’m not sure I could tell you why.

Haven, Eric; Vague Tales (Fantagraphics Books).

Hernandez, Gilbert and Jaime ; Love & Rockets Vol. IV #2, #3 (Fantagraphics). I made the terrible error after Love Bunglers to trade wait Locas, and for whatever reason they haven’t released one since. So I was way behind when this started coming out, but I bought and read it anyway. I initially found the story to be light, but I eventually realized I had a free ComiXology trial and caught up. It’s as great as ever.

Ito, Junji; Dissolving Classroom (Vertical, Inc.), Shiver: Junji Ito Selected Stories, and Tomie: Complete Deluxe Edition (Viz Media). Tomie may have come out in 2016 actually? I describe it to people as being about a beautiful woman who stands around until some total lech of a man inevitably murders her, then she comes back and annihilates him in the most unpleasant manner possible. Repeat ad infinitum. I don’t think the text 100% supports my reading, but that’s what it means to me.

Landry, Tyler; Shit and Piss (Retrofit Comics). The ephemeral, disjointed nature the single issue format served this story better, but it’s still extremely rad.

Loup, Celine; The Man Who Came Down the Attic Stairs (self-published).

Marcus, Ben; Crisis Zone 3rd Edition (Bred Press).

Mignolaverse and John Arcudi; Dead Inside #3 by Arcudi, Toni Fejzula, and Andre May, Lobster Johnson: The Pirate’s Ghost #1 - #3 by Arcudi and Tonci Zonjic, Hellboy: Into the Silent Sea by Gary Gianni, Mike Mignola, and Dave Stewart (Dark Horse Comics). Ignoring a few years in college when I was a lapsed comics reader, I’ve bought every Mignolaverse comic since I was about 13. That loyalty has slowly eroded over the last half decade about. I’m not alone in thinking the Arcudi-Davis run is one of the greatest of all time, and that the books started to go downhill after Guy Davis left. Beyond the departure of Davis, there are a few reasons for that, in my view.

First was the decision soon after to expand the line’s offerings. Doubling the line’s output and bringing in (inevitably) inferior creative teams was a no-win proposition for readers. Who wants more of something not as good?

Second, I think that Arcudi, a great writer, has shifted his focus from tightly-plotted five issue arcs to series-spanning character arcs. While I’m guessing this reads great in big chunks, it doesn’t spread out month to month, some months out of the year. I’m looking forward to a big re-read of everything after B.P.R.D. wraps in a few months, to see if this theory holds. Lobster Johnson: The Pirate’s Ghost came close to standing on its own, but was still rife with moments that I can only assume were big character payoffs because I didn’t remember enough to know. (Especially cool covers by Zonjic on these issues.) However, the non-Mignolaverse title Dead Inside offered the type of visceral, plot-based payoff his B.P.R.D. run with Davis hooked me with. I hadn’t been this thrilled by an Arcudi book since Killing Ground.

But third, and worst of all, has been the addition of writer Chris Roberson, whose books read like updates to the Mignolaverse Wiki. (The Visitor: How and Why He Stayed was okay, but pretty much solely due to Paul Grist’s fun art and layouts.)

I’m staying aboard the main B.P.R.D. book as it races to the finish line, and will continue to buy anything Arcudi writes, which seems to be mostly these Lobster Johnson comics. (Although even that’s looking increasingly, and sadly, unlikely to continue: https://twitter.com/ArcudiJohn/status/1075086925436874753) And I’ll certainly buy any more of these very sporadically-released Hellboy OGNs, like Into the Silent Sea, they decide to release -- the only real non-Mignola drawn Hellboy books anymore.

* Milburn, Lane; CORRIDORS (self-published). Sits comfortably next to Inflated Head Zone by Zach Hazard Vaupen, one of my favorite comics. They both forsake straightforward narrative in favor of theme-driven emotional impressionism, and do it with horror. This is catnip to me, and something I aspire to (although I’m far too boring to achieve it).

* Mirror Mirror II, edited by Sean T. Collins and Julia Gfrörer (2dcloud).

Now: The New Comics Anthology #1, edited by Eric Reynolds (Fantagraphics Books).

* Providence #12 by Jacen Burrows, Juan Rodriguez, and Alan Moore (Avatar Press). It came out months after, but it’s a safe bet Moore wrote this before Trump got elected, right? A more accurate depiction of the shell-shock of being thrust into a post-facts world I haven’t seen.

Roberts, Keiler; Sunburning (Koyama Press). Another big crossover hit in my house.

* Shiga, Jason; Demon Volumes 2, 3, and 4 (First Second). Demon became a book I wouldn’t stop showing to anyone who would listen. Like Gina Wynbrandt’s Someone Please Have Sex With Me, its hook transcends the normal comics reading audience -- you can show it to anyone and they get it right away. Specifically I would show people this amazing video https://youtu.be/NRxCTeM5pyU, which would clue them into what Shiga does enough to get them to read Demon. Demon has a story, but it’s more about rules -- establishing them and playfully subverting them with a level of inventiveness that regularly leaves you in awe.

* Terrell, Jake; Extended Play (2dcloud). This delightful book took me completely by surprise, an experience made possible by 2dcloud’s subscription model.

Tomasso, Rich; She Wolf: Black Baptism #1 - #4, Spy Seal: The Corten-Steel Phoenix #1 - #4 (Image Comics). The end of this second series of She Wolf approached the same hostile disregard for what came before as the end of Tomasso’s previous series, Dark Corridor. But where Dark Corridor acted on that impulse by simply burning it all down, She Wolf has enough respect at least to replace what came before by pivoting into a completely different comic. The freedom this affords the plot to dart in unpredictable directions is exhilarating. And it’s fun and beautifully laid out and designed, as always with Tomasso.

Tran, Thu; Dust Pam (Peow). Gorgeous!

Vaupen, Zach Hazard; Combed Clap of Thunder (Retrofit Comics and Big Planet Comics).

* Willumsen, Connor; Anti-Gone (Koyama Press). The part where the protagonists drive their boat past a window with a dog in it rewired my comics-making brain forever. This was another comic I only read a few pages of a night to make it last longer, and also recommended to friends of mine who were enjoying season three of Twin Peaks -- the plot is obfuscated in a similar way.

Yanow, Sophie; What is a Glacier? (Retrofit Comics and Big Planet Comics).

Yokoyama, Yuichi; Iceland (Retrofit Comics). Another comic I recommended to Twin Peaks season three fans. Similar to the residents of the Red Room, the characters seem truly of another world, their motivations and actions incomprehensible to us.

#best of the year

[post-itpenny]

Gloaming

Tagging @grotesquegabby because I’m borrowing everyone.

Gloaming: defined as twilight and dusk; the day’s end, the glittery, transient echo when time and nature meet.

This takes place just before your clown’s drama. I apologize for how long this is but I think it’s time we learn just why Vespers family is filled with so much drama…. It’s all Magpie’s fault.

Atlas was taken to Aunt Magpie’s home for the first time.He had never really met her except once or twice, his birthday party being the first time he could remember having an actual conversation with her. He thought she seemed rather pale (even for someone with a white clown-face) but coming to her home and seeing how dark it was he now saw her as more of a cave creature.The kind that never see the light of day and have no color. With all the electric lights glittering in the darkness creating the sense of twilight, but much heavier. But her home itself was nice (though when he asked to go outside he was told that there wasn’t one, why not?) and the library was bigger than his parents entire home! She even let him barrow as many books as he could carry. He liked her and couldn’t understand why Vespers was the only person in his entire family that had anything to do with her. He had asked his mother once and she changed the subject. His aunt outright wouldn’t answer and when he asked Uncle Peregrine he got angry.Cousin Juno said to just leave her.

What did that mean?But Vespers was having friends over for a movie night and Atlas knew… he just knew the best way to learn anything was to listen to the adults talk when they thought you weren’t there. He was the only kid so when Atlas said he would rather go to his room to read then watch the movie no one questioned him. He walked upstairs, being sure to close his door loudly, then after a minute quietly crept back down. Crawling to the edge of the stairway where no one could see him. The dim light coming only from the tv in the next room, it felt artificial and not nearly like the heavy darkness of Aunt Magpie’s home. Atlas waited and sure enough someone paused the TV.“So… how did it go?” Cosmos asked.Atlas could hear a sigh and then Vespers speaking, “great actually. It’s just…. She was so damn happy to see him and I could tell she was nervous. She wanted Atlas to like her so badly.”“So has she never really spent time with him before?” Came Lennie’s voice. “I know she said she didn’t have the best relationship with her brother but isn’t that your dad?”Vespers gave a sharp laugh, “that’s one way to describe it. Dad wants nothing to do with her. Wish I had nothing to do with her. He’s gonna flip when he find out we took Atlas to meet her but I don’t really care. I talked it over with Aunt Vega and Uncle Joseph and they were ok with it.”“Maggie what do they think about you spending time with her?” Came Jelly’s voice. There was a long pause before Maggie spoke. “They……. Um…… Vespers…..the Blackwoods don’t…. Like me…”Atlas nodded to himself, he already knew this just from how Juno described Maggie as being something awful… but when he met Maggie he couldn’t understand why since none of it seemed true…Atlas heard Vespers sigh in frustration, “It’s not your fault Maggie….”“Is it Magpie’s?” Billy asked.There was another moment of silence.It was Cosmos that broke it first. “Hey… I mean its your family business but its kinda also my business now. We can talk about it in private if you-”“No,” Vespers cut him off. “I don’t care anymore. Half of you have met Magpie and know shes nice. She’s a good person I swear it’s just…. She made a mistake.” Vespers paused again, getting up. Atlas could hear as he began to pace the room.

“So Aunt Magpie is my dad’s little sister and she was always…. Gifted. Like, that’s the only word for it. I remember one time when I was little lighting hit the west tower of our home so hard it blew half the thing off. She fixed it was a snap of her fingers. A snap! Thing was good as knew.”“Ah, so she’s telekinetic?” Jelly asked.“No,” Vespers answered, “It’s not just that it’s everything. She used to make book illustrations come off the pages and act out the story for me. Who do you think I get all my fabric from? How is it that Maggie’s tent is bigger on the inside? That’s all Aunt Magpie!” “She can just… Make things happen.” Maggie added, “there no other way to explain it she can just… make reality do what she wants.”“She’s… she’s that powerful?” Pepper asked.“Yeah, I mean she can’t control people thats the limit but yeah that’s Magpie.” Vespers answered. He paused at the corner near where Atlas was hiding, the little deer freezing in freight, but only for a moment as Vespers continued his pacing. “My grandparents and dad always kept a tight leash on her, I think to be honest they were afraid that she might lose control and I never noticed when I was little but I know that bothered her… but she was so damn loyal to our family and she helped raise Juno and I…”“What happened,” Cosmos asked.“…. So in our house was My family but sometimes we had guests. My dad’s best friend practically lived with us. We called him Uncle Casper, he was cool… Um, but anyways another friend of my dad’s stayed for a few weeks and everyone knew right away that Aunt Magpie was head over heels for him…. He…. Juno and I didn’t like him the guy just gave bad vibes but neither of us wanted to say anything because he made our aunt so happy. When he left she followed him and it was so awful because she had never not been in my life. But dad… mom and dad were excited. They kept talking about how maybe Magpie would settle down, that we could all be one giant family….”Vespers paused again. Atlas snuck a peak around the corner and saw that his cousin was sitting on the couch again with Maggie rubbing his back reassuringly, many of the others gathered around as they listened. Except… for Calliope and Cuckoo who sat a little ways apart. The two shared a look, as if they knew something that was about to happen.

Vespers shook his head and continued. So we started hearing reports of this deadlight couple and how the woman was going to different human villages and doing stuff for them. Fixing houses, growing their crops, making and doing things for them, and the humans loved. I think she liked it, a whole lifetime of being told to restrain herself and now she was being admired and adored. But as time went on the reports changed. Villages were being leveled, entire countrysides being reshaped, and too many deadlights went missing. So my grandparents tracked the two of them down to this little mountain village and assembled a small band to go and get them. Juno and I had to stay behind but… mom told us what happened later.“What happened?” Jelly asked in almost a whisper. “They found the place destroyed, the guy had Aunt Magpie wreck the place because he just felt like it and….. She was such an idiot she just went along with it.” Vespers was angry now, his hands clenched into fists as tears threatened to fall from his eyes. “She… she was so wrapped up in making him happy and being able to do whatever the hell she wanted without being told no… she was such an idiot. And then the deadlights…… the guy had Magpie make him a coat. He went around killing deadlights and instead of eating them or anything he attached them to the coat…. Like trophies….. There was a shocked silence, Cosmos reached out and held Vespers hand.Vespers took a deep breath and continued, “ they… shielded him, their energy, so no one could touch him. Mom said…. mom said you could still feel who they used to be, like ghosts…. So they attacked the group and Aunt Magpie tried to fight but she and dad went head to head and it got nasty. He can’t do what she does but my dad is no pushover. The others went after her lover, but with the coat he couldn’t be touched…. so at one point Aunt Magpie just loses it and the whole mountain starts shaking. That’s when she kinda realized just what she was doing and tried to stop it but she was so angry the entire section of the mountain they were on just crumbled away…. Magpie managed to shield some people but not everyone. My grandfather was nearly crushed….. and Uncle Casper died…. the guy had grabbed ahold of that damn coat at the last second but it didn’t do anything to protect him since he wasn’t wearing it…. and you want to know something? Aunt Magpie’s lover ran away…. guy wasn’t really all that strong just really manipulative. Magpie had surrendered herself and he ditched her.”“Did…. did they catch him?” Belinda asked.Vespers shook his head, “don’t know… dad said the dude is dead in the dirt but I don’t really know.” He paused with a heavy sigh. “Anyways, they held this impromptu trial for Aunt Magpie and decided to lock her away in a pocket dimension to rot. Then divided up the deadlights from the coat. Better to absorb them then let the poor things stay exposed and aware….”

There was another long moment of silence as they all processed what was said.

“So… your parents don’t like that your visiting your aunt?” Billy finally asked.Vespers shook his head, “know they don’t like that I’m feeding her. Maggie and I shepherd people into her home since she can’t really hunt anymore. I’m serious when I say the left her to rot.”“Is that why they don’t like you Maggie?” Jelly asked.“Yes,” Maggie responded, “that and well…. I told you before I don’t remember where I came from. Just a lot of blurred images and voices… and then Aunt Magpie… I stumbled into her home on accident and she just took me in. It’s also how I met Vespers and Juno and we’ve been friends ever since…. well Juno and I used to be friends…”“Why not now?” Pepper asked with a frown.“Because Juno is daddy’s perfect little prodigy and she’s all about his way of doing things.” Vespers snapped before storming out the front door, Cosmos not far behind.

Atlas himself ran back up the stairs and to the hatch that led to the roof. Climbing up and breathing in the twilight air. Everything was so peaceful up here. The quiet darkness save for the occasional sound of traffic and evening birdsong.So much brighter than Aunt Magpie’s home. Cousin Juno said to leave her…. did that mean like Vespers said?

Did she deserve it?

[fearofyoongi-blog]

Oblivious To My Dreams

[ Illusion Of A Gift ]

tags: college au, youtuber taehyung, dancer jimin, dancer jungkook, new york city, yoonmin, eventual taekook vmin (platonic), taegi (platonic)

main character: kim taehyung

word count: 5243

Heavy eyelids kept his sight blurry at first. The groggy student wasn't sure where he was, but then little things began to filter through. Foremost it was the light, pastel, red on every wall. Then the paintings and printed art pieces became recognizable. With ease, Taehyung figured out that he was in his own room, safe and sound. Even so, he allowed his eyes to wonder. The camera set up for his YouTube channel occupied a small section in his room by a window. Only a yard away from it rested his computer desk. Near his door laid a bag of dirty laundry, which made him curse because he realized he hadn’t gone to the dry cleaner yet. His closet space was somewhere between his bed and desk, but Tae didn’t bother much about it. Instead he recalled the night before.

He couldn’t be sure how everyone else felt when they woke up this morning, but Taehyung was not feeling well. Sitting up in his bed seemed like a chore; slacking his jaw for a yawn felt like an exercise. There was no symptom of a headache though. Which was fortunate for him, because one glance at his phone made Tae realize that his school day started in two hours. Why did I agree to go out last night? Taehyung cursed to himself as he slid out of his bed. From afar he could overhear his roommate scuffling about in the living room. Tae assumed that Jimin let Yoongi stay the night. There were two voices, and the extra one was heading out the door. Giving his body a much needed stretch, Taehyung tucked his feet into his favorite slippers before making his way to the bathroom.

His suspicions were correct. Yoongi departed seconds ago, leaving Jimin and Taehyung alone. As soon as the blonde spotted him, Tae offered the other a cheeky grin. “You’re getting up now? Don’t you have class soon?” Jimin asked him, to which Taehyung responded with a tired nod. “You didn’t eat anything yesterday, I bet.”

Now that it's mentioned Taehyung recalled his meals from yesterday. Avocado toast at 10AM. A small fruit salad at 2PM. He managed to munch on a egg salad sandwich when he returned home from school at around 3PM. So Jimin was correct. No wonder he wasn’t feeling so well. He felt so lousy. To his dismay, Taehyung began to accept his fate. He wouldn’t have time to grab anything to eat before his first class either.

As he continued his journey to the bathroom, Jimin followed. For some reason, he started talking despite Tae’s lack of conversation. “Yoongi kept talking about you last night,” He said in a hum, a hint of jealousy falling from his tone. Tae peeked at his friend taking a seat on the toilet while he rambled. “After we got out of the car, when we were in bed, he wouldn’t stop.” Taehyung gulped as he began applying toothpaste to his toothbrush. He remained silent because it seemed like this was going somewhere. “He liked your singing.”

One glance at Jimin, and Taehyung could sense the disappointment. Not only in his facial expression but in his pout as well. Pulling the toothbrush from his mouth, Tae replied. “I already told him I’m not interested in singing.” The guy answered before going back to what he was doing.

“You should do it anyway,” Jimin retorted in a matter-of-fact tone. From the corner of his eye, Taehyung could see his friend staring at his own hands. Brows began to knit together at the sight. What was on his mind? “He thinks you have talent. There’s this track he has been working on for weeks now and-- and he wants you on it. He’s been looking for someone to do it with. The original writer backed out.”

“Why can’t you do it?” Tae grumbled through minty paste before he spat. There seemed to be a lot more to this than his blonde friend would admit aloud. Which was fine, they didn’t get into deep conversations very often. “You’re more than capable. Why does he want me?”

The other only shook his head. “I’m too busy. You said it yesterday. School, work, that internship, my practices. It’ll be too much,” Jimin reasoned, his kind eyes peering up at Taehyung with sullen. “It would be fun to work with him but… it doesn’t matter. He wants you, and I told him that I would help convince you.”

A scoff of amusement escaped Tae’s throat unwillingly. The guy busied himself with washing his face as his roommate spoke. Disinterested as he seemed to Jimin, Taehyung thought in favor of this collaboration. Especially if the other wanted them to do this. “Help convince me? What makes you think I would want to?”

“You love to sing, Tae. You do it all the time. In the shower, in the car, in your room. You think because you’ve never had vocal training that you’re no good, but it’s untrue!” Jimin laid out his argument without pause, using his hands to make his point. “I’ll always support you, in everything you do, but I won’t let you continue to put your ambitions aside for-- for nothing.”

Tae had finishing rinsing his face and began to pat it dry when he stopped. Jimin’s words caught up to him. Licking over his lips, he shot the other a warning glare. As usual, they began a conversation with only their gaze. Don’t you dare, he said, in a glare, to his friend.

I’ll go there if I have to, Jimin’s eyes said back.

It was quiet in the bathroom for a minute or so. Taehyung was the first to pull away from the staring contest. He did not have time for this, his class started soon and the last thing he wanted to do was be late. Not over this. “If you want this done so bad, you should do it yourself. You should tell him you want to, and that he should pick someone excited to work with him.”

“--He didn’t want me!” Jimin blurted without a second thought, which caused Taehyung to look at him in shock. After that, the blonde guy needed a moment to settle down. Biting on his bottom lip to restrain himself from saying more. “He didn’t want me on the track,” Jimin corrected himself before continuing. “He knows what he wants.” Shifting his eyes from Taehyung, Jimin reached into his back pocket and huffed.

Taehyung allowed him to do whatever he was doing. He looked away and finished putting himself together. Which didn’t involve much. Tae raked his fingers through his brown hair and pushed it forward. Afterwards, he applied a lip balm and watched Jimin again. For some reason, this was going on longer than needed. Feeling impatient, Taehyung peered at his friend’s phone. Without pause, he noticed Jimin sending him a message. “I’m just sharing Yoongi's contact information, don’t be annoying.” Jimin scoffed before glaring at him. Overhearing his own phone’s notification tone, he pursed his lips. “That’s his cellphone number and the number to his studio. He’s going to be expecting your call, so, do it soon.”

With that, Jimin stood up straight and cleared his throat. Offering a bashful expression, Taehyung hid his lips in his mouth. The college student shifted his sight to the ground as a means to not hold his friend’s gaze. Before Jimin exited the small bathroom, Tae spoke again. “It’s not that I don’t want to sing,” He admitted. “I never wanted to be a singer. I never wanted to do that before.”

“...And his offer makes you think you can do it, hmm?” Jimin added without missing a beat. Tae nodded at that. Shy, unsure, but his friend understood. “Stop hiding from your desires, for once, Taehyung. Stop hiding behind glasses and books and… fear. For once, do something because you want to. Not because you want other people to know that you know what’s best.”

Refocusing his attention, Taehyung watched the Adam’s Apple in Jimin’s throat bob. Tae didn’t comment on his friend's advice. They left the conversation without regard. His best friend disappeared to his room while Taehyung returned to his own. The first thing he did was lift his phone to check for the text message that Jimin sent. As promised, Yoongi’s contact information was readily available. Whenever he was.

That alone took several days to address. Not by choice either. This Spring semester offered plenty of trial and tribulation. It would be his final term before graduation, and that was stressful enough in and of itself. On top of that, Tae held the task of recording his YouTube video for the following week. Which, in all honesty, seemed like a chore this time than any other.

Taehyung changed the concept of his original idea. Rather than discussing the basics of Hanja and the debate of whether it is necessary to learn, Tae opted for a vlog. There was much to talk about. Whenever he couldn’t talk to Jimin, or his parents, Tae would use his platform to speak without judgement. Vlogging felt like a diary. Those who subscribed to his channel stayed for reasons even Taehyung stopped understanding.

But he spoke anyway. The pensive guy talked plans after college, his plans for the channel, and, of course, he talked about Jimin. Even inserting funny pictures that were too good for Instagram. Then he mentioned his three year anniversary of living in the United States. Throughout the entire recording, Tae had spoken with ease and cheerful. Yet for that specific part, he caught himself perking up. It felt wrong to talk about this night and not bring up the boy who captured his curiosity.

“I’m sorry I am smiling all the sudden,” Taheyung said to the camera as he used his finger to draw out the curve of his mouth. “A lot happened that I would hate to get into, but I met a boy and it--- it made my night. I’m not going to lie. I love Jimin and I thought his boyfriend was great, but there was another guy there that I wish I had said more to. I hope all you out there take every chance you can to make yourself happy. Even if it’s talking to someone who makes you smile. Do it. Don’t let it pass you by.” Then he recalled the Uber driver, and his own story. Which made him smile even wider. “Never.”

This conversation with his camera lasted another thirty minutes before Taehyung ended it. He had every intention of editing the video tonight and having it ready for his post date. In spite of these plans, his mind wondered without aim. It bounced between the boy at the bar. Then to his conversation with Jimin this morning. Then to the question he had been ask almost a week ago. 'Then what’s your thing?' Rang in his ear. It chimed and beeped and drove him mad. If he didn’t do this song with Yoongi, he would regret it. Jimin knew, and now so did he.

All it took was one thought of the boy from the bar. The more Tae thought about him, the more he wished to have made a reality. Tae sat back in the chair at his desk, fingers clasped together as he imagined the stranger holding his hand. What a luxury it would be, to see this boy ever again. To know him, to be around him again. Tae couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he wondered what advice this boy would offer him right now. Was it too cheesy to indulge in an imaginary conversation?

Another few minutes passed before Taehyung was able to snap out of his thoughts. Gone was the fanatical world he immersed himself in. The stranger from the bar was nothing, if only a dream. He wouldn’t see him again, so there was no need for the extra consideration. Taehyung had to embrace the opportunity in front of him. Swallowing his nerves, Tae reached for his phone on the desk and huffed. He scrolled through a week’s worth of a text conversation with Jimin before finding Yoongi’s information.

First, he called the cellphone. No luck. Which made him nervous, but didn’t give up because he had one more option. Taehyung punched in the direct line to Yoongi’s studio and waited. The phone rang for what felt like forever until a familiar voice answered. “Kim Taehyung,” The condescending voice said without a proper greeting.

“Jimin?” Tae said with a wry laugh. “Aren’t you supposed to be in dance practice?” How late was it? He rushed to check the time before he heard Jimin chuckle.

“I’m leaving now. I was here helping Yoongi with something.”

A snort escaped him before he grinned to himself. “Does that mean what I think it does?”

Jimin cackled even harder. “Maybe,” He answered without missing a beat. “And if you’re calling for what I know you’re calling for, come by now. Yoongi has the studio for another few hours. He just got here, actually. We both did.”

“He isn’t busy? I didn’t plan on seeing him today… I was only calling to see if--”

“To see if he still wants you? Yeah, he does,” Jimin interjected. “I’ll text you the address of his building. I won’t be here when you come by, but please come anyway.”

“I bet that’s what he said,” Tae snorted, which caused his friend to erupt with even louder laughing.

“I’ll tell him you called. He’ll wait for you,” It was amusing to see how much Jimin wanted this collaboration to happen. If anything, it excited Taehyung even more. It felt encouraging, which was a feeling quite foreign to the boy without his family. Other than Jimin, Taehyung didn’t have many friends. Not near him. Until Yoongi, he hadn’t met anyone new that he forced him to know better. How odd was it to befriend a boyfriend of a best friend?

Jimin had all sorts of friends, and they loved him without hesitation. Friends from work, from school, from dance, from everywhere. He made friends with their local coffee shop owner as well, it was strange. Taehyung was an outgoing guy, don’t be mistaken, still he never kept up with his acquaintances. Rather he nurtured his friendship and closeness with Jimin. In other words, he clung to his bond and hoped it would remain that way. If it meant doing this one thing for Yoongi, and it brought him closer to Jimin, then he would do it.

Taehyung was the one to end the call with Jimin. From there, he shot up from his chair and began to ready himself to leave. Collecting his water bottle, keys and bus card before finally receiving a text from Jimin. There it was, the location of Yoongi’s studio. It was now or never, either go or let this opportunity slip by. Without missing a beat, the stranger’s face appeared in his thoughts. No, Taehyung snorted. No more missed opportunities.

The distance between Yoongi’s studio and his apartment was not much. It was no wonder Jimin would leave and return within the hour sometimes. Once he recalled during a movie night that his friend left a charger at Yoongi’s studio. With how inconvenient Jimin made it seem, Taehyung assumed that this studio was far. It was the opposite of that, and his roommate returned before the movie even ended.

Outside, the building stood tall and greyish. There was an obvious scheme of this neighborhood, an image Taehyung couldn’t help admire. Each shop that he passed before arriving to his location left him in awe. A quaint antique shop with one large bay window. A bicycle repair store lined with bicycles outside. Even a corner store with music playing outside. Everyone went about their days when Tae walked by. It was a gorgeous street and a good place that fit Yoongi’s aesthetic. When he walked into the office space, he was sure he had the right place.

It was small but tidy. The front end, that looked like a retail shop, was only furnished with chairs and a desk. The back part divided by a large door covered with a curtain. Taehyung cleared his throat as he stepped further inside. Even though Jimin said he wouldn’t be here, the guy wished he would be anyway. “Hello?” Tae worked up the courage to speak out, heading for the curtain. “Yoongi? Min Yoongi? Are you here?”

In under a second, a voice called back for him. “Yeah, come back--” The other said with a sense of brashness. It intimidated Taehyung, but he did as asked. Taking large strides with hurry. The back of the building seemed as empty as the front. Again, chairs littered the hallway. There was also a mini fridge. On top of it, a little yellow flower sat in a vase. He smiled at it before a voice interjected. “Jimin brings it back to life for me,” Taehyung turned quickly to find who was speaking. Yoongi was behind him, smiling. “He comes by and gives it water and some flower food. Says keeping it around’ll bring good oxygen flow or something…”

He hated to be the bearer of bad news, but did it anyway. “You’ll need more than one flower to do that.” Tae responded with a shy voice, gulping as he gazed back at the single, lonely, flower.

“Yeah… but don’t tell him that. I don’t need a bouquet sitting back here.” Yoongi said with a groan as he turned back to his studio. “C’mon, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Not wanting to make him wait any longer, Taehyung hurried behind the guy. Yoongi was as tall as Jimin, and they were both shorter than Tae, yet he cowered behind them for some reason. Neither were intimidating by any means but Tae felt overpowered by their personalities. He couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry you had to wait this long,” He felt the need to say.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi responded as the wisp of his hand. “Close the door behind you.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to say something, but closed it immediately after. Instead he did as Yoongi requested, and closed the door. “So… How does this work exactly?” He asked with a sense of doubt. For some reason, unbeknownst to Taehyung, the question made Yoongi chuckle.

“You record videos, don’t you? For Youtube?”

Taehyung bounced his head around, almost in agreement. “Well, yeah, but that’s not the same.”

“It is so the same,” Yoongi countered. “What do you do to prepare?”

The dreaded question made him groan. Licking his lips, Taehyung sat down in a rolling chair with a huff. “I plan out my video? I sometimes make a script, for what I want to talk about. That’s not the same as--”

Before he could add anything else to his explanation, Yoongi plopped three pages of music in front of him. The letters typed, and also handwritten. Red pen ink scribbled along the side were notes of a very obvious, complicated past. Taehyung looked up at Yoongi and followed him as he sat down in a chair. “What’s this?” He asked, seeming a oblivious.

“Your script.” Yoongi contented.

“Script,” Taehyung repeated absentmindedly, starting to shuffling through the pages. He seemed surprised to find out that his part wouldn’t be big. According to the red ink splattered on the page, two verses were for Yoongi and one verse was for some other artist. Then the chorus and the bridge belonged to Taehyung. If he wanted it. After licking his lips, his brow knitted together. He read through some of lyrics and found himself intrigued by the story. Yoongi was a great writer, Tae deduced immediately, but something else stuck out to him. One word, one small word.

Daegu.

Taehyung’s head shot up so fast, he could’ve given himself whiplash. Yoongi flinched at the response. The other became confused by the reaction. Yet it didn’t take him long to catch on. “Jimin told me where you were from,” He spoke up before Tae could. “I wasn’t a farmer’s son myself but… I knew what it meant to be where we’re from.” Tae’s throat became dry in an instant. “I grew up with nothing too. My mom worked a lot and my dad killed himself to make our lives comfortable. I know what you endured.”

“You say that like I hated my life,” Tae interjected, shaking his head. “I didn’t hate my life. I didn’t dislike it. I--”

“Wanted something more? Watched your family struggle to make ends meet while you felt like you couldn’t do anything?” Yoongi tilted his head. “You don’t have to hate your life to want better, you know.”

“I know.”

“That’s all this song is saying,” The platinum blonde guy pointed at the paper in Taehyung’s hand. “No one else in this city could portray that better than you. I know that for a fact.”

“A fact?” Taehyung scoffed.

Yoongi only shrugged. “Look at where you are. You’re in New York. You came from the middle of nowhere, from a small city in South Korea. You’re in college. As far as I know, you’ve already made it.” Shifting in his chair, Taehyung felt uncomfortable with these assumptions. Yoongi seemed to notice as well, and attempted to correct himself. “Or maybe you haven’t yet, but you’re getting there. You will get there.”

“And you? You said you’re from Daegu too, but how do you feel?” Taehyung challenged him with a ticked brow. “Do you feel like you made it?”

Yoongi paused at the question. Planting his back on the chair, he offered a half smirk at Taehyung before offering an eventual nod. “I made my parents proud of me, for pursuing my dreams. If that’s what you’re asking me.”

Whatever point he was trying to make did not turn out in his favor. Tae sunk into himself and pursed his lips. Eyeing the paper one last time before glancing at Yoongi. “My parents are proud of me too. They are. They’re proud that their son is in America, living the American dream. Attending college, getting a degree. They’re proud of that.”

“So make them prouder.” Yoongi interrupted, wheeling his chair and pushing the paper closer to Taehyung. “Do this song, and make my own dreams come true. Give me the chance to make something from my heart come to life. Most importantly, make this song, and give the others in Daegu a chance of optimism. There’s other kids out there who have dreams, but feel like they can’t accomplish them, I’m sure of it. They’re… standing in their parents’ farms and thinking, this is it for me.” Yoongi snorted. “This song could give them hope, if it’s done correctly, by two boys who made it out.”

Yes, his words were inspiring. More inspiring than the lecture Jimin offered a week ago. Taehyung had his fears, his doubts, but Yoongi had a point. So did Jimin. This was not a simple song. This song would go on and into whatever project Yoongi had planned. It would help Taehyung step out of the shadows of his doubt. As motivating as Yoongi’s speech had been, Taehyung seemed convinced from the start. The moment he saw his birthplace in the lyrics. Like Jimin said, he hides behind himself. It was time to step out. “I’ll do it.” He finally answered.

Yet Yoongi shrugged a shoulder. “I know,” He hummed. “I know because I know you want to sing. You won’t admit it to yourself, but you’re going to enjoy it.”

Taehyung giggled off the accusation, shaking his head. “Just… let me listen to the song already. Tell me how I’m supposed to do all this.” He said, hoping to change the subject.

“Sure thing,” Yoongi replied with a wider grin than before. Tae hadn’t noticed before, but the man wasn’t of many words. He didn’t say much unless necessary, and Taehyung enjoyed that about him thus far. Where Jimin managed to fill in every moment of silence, Tae appreciated. Yet it was nice to sit beside someone who didn’t need to do the same. It was a pleasant surprise to know he underestimated himself. To realize that he underestimated Yoongi. Jimin was right. Taehyung was starting to like this guy.

When two hours passed, and Taehyung started to match the lyrics to the melody, they decided on taking a break. Yoongi ordered a pizza for the both of them and they sat idly with it. As he took a bite from the pepperoni pizza slice in hand, Yoongi scrolled through his phone. Taehyung watched from the side of his eye, noticing the other had opened his Instagram app. Licking his lips, he parted them to speak, but hesitated. He did that about three times before he overheard Yoongi laugh.

“Speak up,” The guy peered at him. “Go ahead and ask.”

Taehyung returned the glance with a shy smile. “I’m sorry,” Was all he could muster before shoving more of his own pizza slice into his mouth. “It’s just-- the dance group. From last week? That you met in the bar? Are they still following you?” Yoongi fell silent for a while. Tae wasn’t sure why. It made him insecure, for some reason, to sit like this. Even removing his eyes from the screen to give the other his privacy. He wondered how Yoongi could even remember when he asked about the group the first time around. As he was about to call off the question, the music producer spoke up.

“Yeah, they’re still following me.” Yoongi’s thumb worked overtime as it tapped on the screen until he found the Instagram account. A second later, he passed the phone over to Taheyung.

Frantically, Tae settled his slice of pizza back in the box and scrolled through the pictures. When his eyes landed on a familiar face, his breath hitched. Which caused Yoongi to blurt a stifled laugh. Taehyung looked up at him with a bashful smirk. “Sorry, sorry, go ahead.” Yoongi assured before remaining quiet again.

“That’s him,” Tae breathed, finding a selfie on the account. It was only a picture, but the guy looked as attractive as Tae remembered.

“The guy you wanted to know about that night?” Yoongi asked curiously as he peeked at his own phone. “Yeah… I remember him now. He sat beside me, in the booth. He couldn’t drink though, he was under 21. He was actually quieter than the other guys, now that I think about it.”

“His name’s Jungkook,” Tae added, glancing to Yoongi. It felt like he could finally breathe. A name to the face he remembered so well. “What else do you remember about him?” If anything at all, Taehyung wanted more to think about.

“Honestly, not much. I told you, I was only talking to my roommate, Jin. The others would speak to Jin but kept it short with me. I didn’t mind,” Yoongi shrugged. “They didn’t speak much English. Only the manager, umm…” He started to snap his fingers before he took his phone back from Taehyung. Tae figured the other needed to see the face to remember the name. “That one, yeah. Namjoon. Namjoon spoke English but the others… I don’t know if they did, and didn’t want to, or just didn’t.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Taehyung hesitantly took Yoongi’s phone back and stared at the picture of Jungkook on the screen. He wasn’t up front like the other dance members. Still Tae had a good view of his face. A sense of relief washed over him as he took one last stare at the stranger. Yoongi seemed nice enough to give him this reunion, which he was thankful for. Deep down, Taehyung settled on the idea that they would never meet. Still, it was nice to be finally introduced. No matter how minuscule.

“Do you… wanna follow them real quick before we get back to work?” Yoongi asked with an unsure tone. Taehyung seemed trapped in his thoughts, but returned when spoken to. The music producer tried again. “Who knows, maybe he’ll remember you.”

At that comment, Taehyung scoffed. “No, no way,” He felt confident in that decision. “We… stared at each other. We locked eyes. That was all. It wasn’t anything more than that. If it was, it would’ve-- he would’ve-- I--” He didn’t have the proper explanation for why they didn’t speak. Still he looked over at Yoongi as if he provided enough of an answer. “It’s pointless anyway, you said they don’t even live around here, so.. It’s pointless,” Tae repeated himself as he kept on talking himself out of this. “I only wanted to know his name.” Reluctance took over as he returned the phone to its owner.

Just like that, Yoongi took his phone and offered nothing else on the subject. Again, it was refreshing to have a prespective that simple. Taehyung thought about Jimin, and how he would have reacted. It made him snort to himself. He thought about Jimin and how he would have followed and sent the account a message. Jimin was shameless like that. Taehyung, not so much. It was nice to know that Yoongi did not bare the same quality as his boyfriend. Rather than continue to the talk of Jungkook, Yoongi clapped his hands and closed the pizza box. “Well, if you’re done here, let’s get back to work.”

For the rest of the night, the boys worked diligently. Taehyung, at some point, zoned out. The music affected him more than he ever thought it could. The lyrics, his script, became an extension of his arm until it wasn’t needed anymore. In no time, he memorized the bridge and chorus and was singing it like a third language. What made Yoongi even happier was that Taehyung created ad-libs to his part.

Later in the evening, Yoongi offered Taehyung a chance to record what he had remembered. Each line left his lips and traveled through the microphone. A love of success, self-love and motivation rang true in the studio. Regardless of his inner thoughts and desires for Jungkook, Taehyung never felt this at peace. That passion burned in his stomach. If it weren’t for the melody and the meaning of this song, who knew what would’ve become of him. Thankful that Yoongi kept him busy. Recording and re-recording until Jimin began calling the both of them home.

#please do not repost or reblog. likes are okay! #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #taekook fanfic #chapter series: oblivious to my dreams

[zoilathemom-blog]

stuff i wish i knew

Dakota was not planned. In fact, Zach and me were very much mending ourselves back together when we found out I was pregnant. We intended to have a baby at some point, but Winter 2018 was not penciled into our agenda. When we got the news there was no question. We were doing this, we’d made it 10 years at that point and had survived a 6 month separation, we could handle anything. And let me tell you, we really can handle anything. 

Thank goodness we trusted our path because we are so in love with our little human. Dakota is a blessing, the perfect combination of us both and I am so excited for our life as Dakota’s parents. BUT I’d be a lying fool and a faker if I pretended my pregnancy wasn’t riddled with what ifs, doubts and confusion. Even more so, being a mother is terrifying - I’m constantly wondering if I’m fucking up. And the truth is, I probably am. But also, that’s OK.

My time as a pregnant woman was quite isolating. You see, we moved to LA in November of 2015 and hadn’t quite solidified a community here. I always imagined this time in my life would be filled with family and my best girl friends. It wasn’t. So I did what women do best, I adapted. With constant check-ins on my “Mothers.” chat - a group chat of 3 amazing girlfriends who are moms, advice from my mother and a lot of reading, I made it to motherhood. But that was just the beginning,  there is still so much for me to learn. Motherhood is like getting to the top of a 5 mile high mountain only to find that the peak is still 15 miles up. Or like that scene in Titanic when they discover the iceberg has a side that juts out and the sailor screams “it’s got a head!”  That’s motherhood. Always another step on a constant learning curve. BUT, the reward, the reward is so damn good. The first time Koda smiled a non gas triggered smile? I DIED!!!! Dying just thinking about him. Hold up, now I need to run into his nursery and check that he’s breathing....

OK, back now :) 

So, in the spirit of sisterhood and the belief that real talk is the only talk that should exist, I’ve asked for advice. I asked for advice from some of the most amazing moms I know (please take or leave what you’d like - none of this is fact!). I asked them to share what they wish they had known or anything they feel is relevant for first time moms. This will be an ongoing document that I hope mothers will use and share, far and wide. Being a mom is hard. It is scary. It is also incredibly exciting & fulfilling. It is all the damn things and you don’t have to go through it alone. But if you are feeling alone (been there!!), I am here and so is this mama tribe. 

On Support:

“Find plenty of moms who have been through it already and cry on their shoulders.” - Marti Cuevas; Mama to Martin Carle, 39 and me :)

“My advice is to reach out to other moms, either friends w kids or try to make some. Talking out weird questions or just being able to relate is so key.” -Kristina; Mama to Isabel, 8 Months

“Ask for what you need. Your partner or anyone around you for that matter cannot read your mind. Be vocal and direct.” - Zoila; Mama to Dakota, 3 Months

On Post Partum Bodies:

“I wanted to lose the baby weight right away, in my head, but it wasn’t until my son was 18 months that I felt my post-C-section body was ready and able. Everyone said breast feeding will make the weight drop on it’s own; well not for my P.C.O.S.-ridden reproductive system. My advice to first-time moms is to not succumb to the pressure of obsessing over baby weight loss. Follow your heart, mind and body on your post-partum journey back to your pre-pregnancy jeans.” - Rachel Muniz-Strauss; Mama to Donovan, 3 + one on the way.

On Self-Care:

“Don’t put undue pressure on yourself! We do that so much and it serves no one. You are a fabulous mama.” - Sadye; Mama to Rafi, 2

“New moms should do ONE thing a day. Like if it’s going to the store or a doctors appointment or whatever. One thing! Healing after labor and delivery or a cesarean birth takes time emotionally, physically, and spiritually! Over exertion is no bueno when dealing with a baby and a partner who is also struggling to find his or her place in the new family unit as well as probably recovering from the birth!” - Scotlan; Mama to Clementine, 11 Months

“BREATHE: things are going to get super hectic and really noisy. You will get hit with a poop explosion, loud crying and screaming, dinner burning on the stove, phone ringing, your partner asking "hey did you do the laundry yet?", while you have been holding your pee in for the last 3 hours cause you've been running around the house like a chicken without a head trying to do it all...You start to panic...but DON'T! JUST BREATHE and don't cram it all in at once...this is a recipe for ANXIETY. Yes you are a super hero and a bionic woman but you can't do everything at once. So stop for a minute and breathe, even if you have to lock yourself in the bathroom for 10 minutes...let the baby cry, let hubby figure it out and BREATHE...in through your nose and out through your mouth and tell yourself "I GOT THIS"..then go out there and conquer each thing one by one with a huge smile on your face... I know it's so simple but trust me it will save you a world of anxiety” - Byata; Mama to Luca, 6, London, 5 & Lucky, 11 Months

ACCEPT HELP. While being a new mom is certainly a sensory awakener, and a super cool and interesting experience that you wanna soak up all to yourself, you MUST accept help, especially from those with some wisdom and experience, and if someone whom you trust offers to watch the baby while you shower or nap, ACCEPT! - Cashley; Mama to Jacob 14, Nicky 11, Sophia 2 

“SLEEP: every mom I have ever received advice from tried to sell me this little bit of information and guess what...I did not buy it! A sleep deprived mama is an unhappy, unhealthy, and uncomfortable mama. When that baby is sleeping, lay your ass down and close your eyes. Being rested allows you to be productive and allows you to be happy and healthy. When you are sleep deprived you make poor food choices (typically lots of sugar to keep you awake) which lead to a poor mood...and when mama is in a bad mood, everyone suffers! So try and sleep...the laundry will wait, the dishes will wait, the dinner will wait, your partner will wait, the whole world will wait for you to wake up!” - Byata; Mama to Luca, 6, London, 5 & Lucky, 11 Months

On “The Way Things Are Done:”

“I would advise not to share with others the name choice for your child. I feel that it should be between you and your partner (if there is one) as you are the parents, and deserve 100% creative control, if I may, in naming your child. I’ve found that when sharing my top name choices, the opinions of others really Jaded me (since when?!) BUT, while I love the names I gave my kids, I wish I had been more private on that aspect.” - Cashley; Mama to Jacob 14, Nicky 11, Sophia 2

“Breastfeeding is INCREDIBLY hard. If it does not come naturally to you, rest easy knowing you are not a mutant who can’t provide for their child. Almost every woman struggles with some aspect of breastfeeding. It doesn’t really start to feel normal until after the 3rd month. Don’t beat yourself up. Also, if you don’t want to breastfeed, that is your choice too and NO ONE has the right to shame you for it.” - Zoila; Mama to Dakota, 3 Months

“Your choice for Feeding source..  I 100%  think should be kept as personal as possible. We all go into this mom thing with an idea of what we want to do, or not, but often times as I now know, things don’t go according to plan with regards to really anything, but especially nursing... lactation issues, latching or lack thereof, allergies, your schedule…. , or formula feeding may just be your personal preference... so regarding nursing vs formula, I found it best to keep mum. Everyone has an opinion, but do what your maternal instinct tells you.” - Cashley; Mama to Jacob 14, Nicky 11, Sophia 2

“Be patient with trial and error. Things that might work for your best friend might not work with your family. Flexibility and letting go of the idea that parenting should “look” a certain way” - Scotlan; Mama to Clementine, 11 Months

“SOMETIME'S LET THE BABY CRY: babies are designed to cry! It actually helps strengthen their vocal chords. I remember with baby # 1 I would be on the toilet while he was napping and I would hear him wake up and cry his little heart out and I would get up without finishing my business; run, trip, fall just to get to him as quickly as possible and help stop him from crying! No need for all that...take care of your shit mama! (NO PUN INTENDED) That baby won't brake. That baby will be fine!  A few extra bouts of crying won't change anything. Yes it sounds painful and you want nothing more than to nurture your baby and protect it...but a little crying is OK...I promise.” - Byata; Mama to Luca, 6, London, 5 & Lucky, 11 Months

Tricks & Products That Save Lives:

“BABY WEARING: is a game changer! I can't begin to tell you how much this practice works. Especially for my super busy super moms who like to multi task...when you wear that baby in an Ergo or a MOBY Wrap (two of my faves), you can do anything you need to around the house, at the store, or outside...that baby is happy to be snuggled up against you, and you're happy that you can knock out a few birds with one stone. Your hands are free to type, clean dishes, make dinner, talk on the phone, fold laundry, speed walk, etc...(all in standing posItion - which is great for your back anyways!) I literally pull a 4 hour work shift out of the house just by wearing my baby. He's happy and I am getting shit done!!! - Byata; Mama to Luca, 6, London, 5 & Lucky, 11 Months

#motherhood #advice #momlife #moms #newmoms #newborn #mothers #mom life

[alabastertouch]

It’s Not Me | II

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Characters: Composer!Park Chanyeol x brokenhearted!reader; appearances by other idols

Genre: Flangst (lol) (srsly)

Warning/s: Mentions of a toxic relationship, strong language

Summary: After a songwriter broke your heart, you swore you would never do anything that involves music. But when a desperate composer asks for your kind help, will you change your mind?

A/N: I honestly didn’t expect the story to receive so much attention??? Thank you so much to everyone supporting my little scenario thingy going on here! This is also quite unedited so.... HAHAHA anyway have a read!!!

story masterlist

When Seulgi comes home that night, she immediately tackles you in a hug and almost topples you off the couch.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She repeatedly chants, sniffling even, as she embraces you tightly.

“What’s going on, Seul?” You question her, confused by her sudden show of affection.

“Because of you, we reached our sales quota!” She announces, suddenly jostling herself to hang on you. “People loved Smart Norae, and they told me it was because they heard you singing!”

You didn’t quite expect a response like that. You’d expect them to buy it because of its good surround system and the efficiency of picking songs, not because they watched a pathetic girl destress through the newest karaoke technology.

“Glad I could be of help, Seul,” you pat her shoulder. “But I can’t believe you made me sing!”

She sheepishly lets you go, taking a paper-wrapped object from her shoulder bag and hands it over to you. “Just a little something as a token of appreciation.”

You rip the paper off, revealing a brown leather notebook with your name imprinted in calligraphy on its front and an animated drawing of your face.

“A friend of mine started doing some stationery business, so I requested if she can make me a journal for you. I designed it myself, see?” She proudly points at the intricate details of it. “It’s not much, but I know how much you love writing randomly. Use it to write whatever you come up with so you can look at it whenever you feel like it.”

You caress the smooth sheets of paper inside, admiring the way it feels underneath your fingertips. Seulgi always had the eye for the perfect materials, being a triple threat in singing, dancing, and art.

“This is amazing, Seulgi,” you give her a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you so much.”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” she waves you off. “You deserve this, hun. Now, you can write revenge songs about Jihoon and all he had done to you.” A look of anger fills Seulgi’s caramel irises, but you stop her before she can say more.

“We’re not going to go lower than Jihoon, Seul,” you dismiss the idea. “We’re going to be strong women, because that’s what we are, right? Revenge is petty.” Seulgi finds herself agreeing with your words.

You fall into comfortable silence later on, with Seulgi strumming along with her guitar. She is trying to hum some tunes, trying to blend it together with the instrument. But so far, her experimentation is a useless attempt to create her song.

You only use her sweet voice and music to focus on your own work to do… coming up with ways on how to shut the children up without asking Mijoo once again to clean up after you.

“Aha!” She exclaims, as if the best idea had just dawn to her. You let her do her thing, and she writes something down on her paper.

“Finally got a hang of it?” You question, although the answer appears pretty obvious.

“That I do,” Seulgi claps in delight. “This is going to be an amazing one!”

You sure hope it does, so your best friend can stop searching because she doesn’t have to… she deserves the recognition for her talent and expertise.

Soon, you exhale. We’ll get to it soon.

“Look, Chanyeol, this is hopeless!” Junmyeon whines as he fails searching for the girl in the video once again.

“Let’s ask the police, then?” Chanyeol suggests, like asking the authorities for a person’s identity is such a normal thing to do.

“And what, tell them that we’re looking for her because of our singing woes?” Junmyeon deadpans. “No thanks.”

“How about we go to that mall?” Kyungsoo suggests. After being updated by what Chanyeol and Junmyeon have watched and hearing the girl sing, he thinks as well that the girl has an amazing voice that can mix well with his. “Maybe some people there know who she is.”

“Kyungsoo, a mall is a public place. She may not go back there.” Junmyeon rationalizes.

“Or she might,” Kyungsoo optimistically counters. “Look, stop being so darn negative. You’ll never know what could be if you try, right?”

Chanyeol cannot believe how chill Kyungsoo is, even if it is his own comeback at stake. Although he’s usually quiet and peaceful and quite the opposite of Chanyeol, he completes their partnership by being the mediator when Chanyeol gets too much of anything.

“We’ll go,” Chanyeol announces, not giving Junmyeon any room to complain anymore.

“Have you lost your mind?!” The manager lets his wits slip anyway. “What if someone recognizes you there?!”

“I’m not the singer here, hyung. If she’s our last chance to save all of our jobs, then we’ll take what we can get!” Chanyeol ends any future altercations and leaves Junmyeon bitterly swallowing.

Junmyeon’s trials to stop Chanyeol is to no avail, and he finds himself back to the same familiar section of the mall the same afternoon. He just leads Chanyeol to where the shop is, and he finds the Smart Norae machine displayed for everyone to see and try. Instead of the striking orange-haired saleslady, a short male with a roseate mullet (Chanyeol is reminded of John Travolta as Danny Zuko from Grease) is singing through the microphone with his own rendition of I Miss You by Kim Bum Soo.

“Excuse me,” Chanyeol hollers once his little performance is over. “Are you the salesman here?”

“You bet I am!” The guy confirms with a puppy-like small. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, well, there is something I’m curious about,” Chanyeol does not know where else to start and decides to beat to the point. “Do you happen to know a girl who’s singing here?”

“Sorry?” The salesman steps closer. “Sir, many people try the demo machine here. I don’t think I can help you with that.”

“Wait,” Chanyeol rethinks about it and remembers the clip in Junmyeon’s phone. “Hyung, the video!”

“I’m not helping you out,” Junmyeon scoffs. “This is ridiculous, Chanyeol!”

“If you don’t give it to me within five seconds, you’re fired,” Chanyeol pans, arms cross and voice already monotonous.

“You can’t fire me, Chanyeol. Only the company has the power to do that.” Junmyeon rebuts.

“Look, I don’t have much time for this. My break will be in a few minutes, but you can try and ask my co-worker instead?” The male sheepishly suggests.

“Wait, uh…” Chanyeol asks for his name.

“Baekhyun,” the salesman answers.

“Yes, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol speaks. “There was this girl who sang a song by Taeyeon here, and there was also an orange-headed girl here at that time. Do you think she knows who that girl is?”

“Hmm,” Baekhyun considers what he knows. “If you buy one of these, I can tell you what I know.”

“What?!” Junmyeon is now the one to intervene. “No! You just said you didn’t know! We’re not buying—”

“I’ll take one,” Chanyeol brings his wallet out. “Just test it out and then pack it well.”

“Of course, sir!” Baekhyun throwing a smirk at Junmyeon before heading to the stock room.

“Chanyeol, stop this, okay? We can ask JYP if Suzy can sing with Kyungsoo or anyone else, for that matter. We’ll negotiate, but just stop this!” Junmyeon nags, trying to reason out to Chanyeol whose mind seemed to have synced out.

“Look, hyung, let me ask you a question,” Chanyeol sighs. “Why did you take a video of her in the first place?”

“Because I thought she was good?” Junmyeon responds, quite confused.

“Then why did you show it to me?”

“Again, because she’s so good, I felt like it would be a waste to not tell anyone. I don’t have a lot of musical knowledge, but it doesn’t take one who has a lot to know how emotional she is. She has a lot of pent up emotions she had to let out.”

“And you know how important that is in music,” Chanyeol counters. “This girl sings great, but she does amazing because she feels through the song, and in this industry full of singers who do their jobs solely for profit, we need one who has a voice that wants to be heard.”

Junmyeon pauses, debating whether to let Chanyeol go on with his delusions of finding this girl sometime today or just stop whatever it is.

“Fine,” Junmyeon finally accepts the inevitable. “But if within three days we don’t find her, well stop this.”

“I promise,” Chanyeol nods gratefully. “Thank you, hyung.”

After his purchase, Chanyeol begins to interrogate Baekhyun.

“Now it will help if you show me the actual video,” Baekhyun asks for it, and although he’s reluctant, Junmyeon scrolls through his phone for the clip before handing it to Baekhyun.

“Oh, wait, I knew you were talking about Seulgi,” Baekhyun then points out to the saleslady with the orange hairdo. “She’s the one interviewing the girl.”

“Do you think this Seulgi knows her?” Chanyeol looks hopeful.

“I’m not sure, but let me call a friend who knows Seulgi well,” Baekhyun steps outside the shop for a while and drags in a man wearing a chicken nugget suit.

“Hyung, my manager will kill me if he founds out I’m not there!” Chicken Nugget complains.

“Jongin, this won’t take long,” Baekhyun rewinds the video and lets Jongin see. “Do you know this girl singing? Does Seulgi know her?”

“You mean Y/N?” Jongin squints to check if he’s seeing correctly. “Yeah, that’s Y/N.”

“You know her?!” Chanyeol almost shakes Jongin, feeling the excitement of knowing the girl.

“Yeah, she’s Seulgi’s best friend,” Jongin explains. “But who are you? Why are you looking for her?”

“Seulgi pretended not to know her best friend?” Baekhyun suddenly barges into the conversation.

“Yeah, they do it all the time,” Jongin shrugs. “Business is business, hyung.”

“Anyway,” Chanyeol clears his throat, hoping for an answer. “Do you know Do Kyungsoo?”

“The singer?” Jongin tilts his head. “Who doesn’t?”

“Well, her voice matches Kyungsoo’s a lot,” Chanyeol elucidates. “And if she’d let us, we’d like to have her try to sing.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jongin scratches his head. “But there’s Seulgi. You can go ask her how you can contact Y/N.” And they all turn around to see the same girl on the video walking to the store in her work outfit.

“I’m not late, right?” She heaves before heading to the back of the store. She returns, appropriate enough to work already. “Welcome!”

“Seulgi, they’re asking about Y/N,” Jongin proclaims, wondering how this guy can be so blunt about such a request.

“Y/N? What about her?” Seulgi questions.

“Well, we kind of have a problem she can possibly help with,” Junmyeon rewords whatever had been said before about this deal with the girl.

“I can’t speak for her, so I think you might have to talk to her in person,” Seulgi hesitantly mumbles. “What is this request all about, anyway?”

“Do Kyungsoo’s album,” Chanyeol claims. “We heard her singing, and we think she’s the missing puzzle piece.”

“Oh shit,” Seulgi exclaims and covers her mouth in utter shock, knowing how big of a deal this is. “This is huge!”

“It is,” Chanyeol agrees.

“But…” Seulgi takes a deep breath, not sure if she should be saying anything at all.

“What is it?” Chanyeol encourages her to say something.

“She told me she didn’t want anything to do with music, and helping me out with a song number was kind of pushing it. I’m not sure if she’ll approve at all.” Seulgi regrets being the bearer of such news, especially because the guy looks so optimistic, too.

“Does she have any background with singing?” Chanyeol questions.

“She was in a church choir in high school and minored in music during college. Our professor wondered why she wasn’t majoring in music instead because she’s actually an amazing singer.” Seulgi rambles on about her best friend and her life choices that although she doesn’t quite understand, still supports fully.

“Anyway, if you want to meet Y/N, I asked her to come over later after her shift ends. You might have to wait a few…” Seulgi checks her wristwatch. “Hours. It’s only 2 and she gets off at 4.”

Chanyeol knows that he is already pushing Junmyeon’s patience far off, but he needs to know that he at least tried his best in pleading the girl to cooperate with his plan of salvaging everyone’s careers.

“You can go first, hyung,” Chanyeol tells his manager, who looks exasperated now more than ever. “I’ll wait for her.”

“Chanyeol,” Junmyeon hisses, hoping that even if he had given his approval, Chanyeol would at least consider stopping this.

“No, hyung,” Chanyeol gently responds. “This isn’t just for Kyungsoo, but also for myself. Let me do this.”

And Junmyeon’s face softens, seemingly at lost with everything else by now. What Chanyeol wants, Chanyeol gets.

“Just be careful, alright?” Junmyeon reminds in defeat. “Text me when you’re on your way back. I’ll tell the president you’re busy if he goes looking for you.”

“Thanks, hyung,” Chanyeol pats Junmyeon’s back, expressing his appreciation to his ever-patient manager.

Chanyeol waits on a coffee shop across, which has the perfect view of the people coming over the halls where the gadget shop is situated. He had since taken his notebook out, trying to come up with a poem he can later consider lyrics in the song.

Two hours, and he is already getting irritated with some people disrupting the ambiance of the coffee shop.

He had drunken two Americanos in the first hour, but after shivering because of it, he settled on some fruit juice. Last minute, he decides to buy some for the girl… a little gesture he hopes would give her a boost to agree.

“When will she arrive?” Chanyeol asks himself before gathering his stuff and heading back to the shop, with the mango juice in his hand and his work papers on the other.

He walks towards the entrance… well, right until he saw the female from the video personified and looking all beautiful despite the bags underneath her eyes.

“Seulgi, I’m sorry I’m late! The kids didn’t want to let me go!” Chanyeol feels his alarm go off at the mention of kids, wondering if she were talking about her own children.

“You should really find a job which has to do with your actual expertise, Y/N,” and now, Chanyeol is sure that this is the girl.

Of my dreams.

Shut up, Park Chanyeol.

“Anyway, Y/N, there was someone looking for—oh, there he is. Sir!” Seulgi calls for Chanyeol, and the tall guy shudders at the thought of being embarrassed in front of the girl he had wanted to see ever since he had found out about her.

“Looking for me?” She questions, puzzled. “Hello, sir. What can I help you with?”

“Miss Y/N, I am Park Chanyeol,” You nod, acknowledging his introduction. Chanyeol takes a deep breath, preparing for a surprised response coming from you.

“I want you to sing for us.”

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