#what is the importance of business card in networking

[touchcard]

Contactless business cards the future of networking

As a result, contactless business cards have been created, which provide a safer and more practical way to network in a post-pandemic environment. We will examine the advantages of contactless business cards and how they are influencing networking in this post. https://www.intouchwe.com/blogs/news/contactless-business-cards-the-future-of-networking

#how can we use business cards for effective networking #what is the importance of business card in networking #what is the contactless business cards #what is the benefit of NFC card

[vivalabunbun]

Sweet Sweet Nothings

Summary: The sweet lull of normalcy in an unconventional marriage

Word Count: 7K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Fluff, this is just pure fluff, Smut, NFSW, MDNI, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, Modern AU, Alpha! Alhaitham, Beta! Reader, breeding, biting, established relationship, TW: Very vague mentions of gender dysphoria (of your secondary gender), TW: pregnancy and birth, Protective! Alhaitham, Jealous! Alhaitham

Authors Note: This isn’t much of a story, think of it as a collection of sweet nothings and domestic life with Alhaitham and the Sumeru cast after this. I just felt like I had to give them fluff after that slow burn. Enjoy!

Teal-orange eyes snapped towards the ticking clock on his oak desk, the time read 5 pm. Alhaitham’s duties were over for the day, now he had more pressing matters to attend to. Swift hands gathered up the papers scattered across the dark wood, stacking them into a neat pile before his body pushed against his plush seat. The golden glint of the ring on his finger only spurred him on to quickly exit his office. 

“Hey! Alhaitham are you leaving work now? Great, how about we grab some drinks with-”

“No. I’m busy.” He bluntly dismissed his blond senior. 

A firm hand snatched up his blazer that had been thrown across the back of his seat, the other flicked off the desk lamp. 

“Oi! Your senior is inviting you to a-”

“If you have a request you need approved then please leave it on my desk, I’ll look over it once I return back to the office on Monday.” Alhaitham skirted past the blond’s still frame at the doorway, paying no mind to the disgruntled scrunch on Kaveh’s face. His mind was focused on more pressing matters. 

–

“And then the brat just WALKS past me as if I were some dust on the ground! Could you believe that?” Kaveh thumps his glass back onto the tavern table, a small splash of wine lapped over the side. 

Tighnari took another big swig from this glass, his ears weren’t drunk enough to handle the tumultuous complaining of the blond. Cyno was only half-heartedly listening, ruby eyes trained on the brand-new deck of cards he had spent the week building in his hands. 

Yes, it is just a typical Friday afternoon. Colleagues gathered at Lambad’s Tavern, congregating at an outdoor table and enjoying the nice wine and early Spring air. Although more often than not, there would only be three seats filled instead of four. 

“Just what is so important that they trifle over common courtesy? In the world of job opportunities, networking and connections are a critical part of getting higher up the chain. Just how did that shrewd man get that promotion?” Kaveh’s face already had the tall tale signs of a drunken glow. 

“Well, it’s not really that out of character for him. People have always found his actions grating, but his efficiency at his work can’t be denied.” Tighnari rested his head on his hand. 

“There’s been a change in the head secretary lately.” Cyno asserted, eyes now trained somewhere else. 

“Oh? How so? He’s the same old crude man.” Kaveh dismissed. 

Cyno motioned with his eyes at a sight just behind the two other men. Two confused heads turned to follow his gaze. Nearly choking on their drinks at the scene they were now witnessing. 

There stood Alhaitham’s towering figure walking hand in hand with yours, bags filled with books and miscellaneous trinkets carried in his other. What made the men uncomfortable was the uncanny softness dawned on the stoic secretary’s face, as his teal eyes focused on you. 

His Beta wife was pressing her body against his arm as she spoke close to his ear, pointing at random stalls and vendors. Alhaitham leaned down to hear you through the chattering crowd, making sure to maneuver your bodies through the bustling streets. 

The three men didn’t know what to make of the scene in front of them as the couple walked out of sight, still holding each other close. Kaveh wonders if the wine being served today was stronger than usual. However, the three unwed men now got their answer to Alhaitham’s sudden full schedule. 

The table of bachelors called for more wine. Maybe to cleanse their palette of the sour taste of jealousy. 

–

“Have you seen Alhaitham today? I’ve been trying to hand him this paperwork since Friday.” Kaveh approached the head lawyer at the water cooler, the weekend was now over and it was now Monday, and the secretary was nowhere to be seen. 

“Hm? The head secretary applied to use his paid vacation time off. It was approved last Friday.” Cyno took a sip from the paper cup. 

“Huh?” The papers fluttered out of the architect’s slack hands, jaw agape. 

His junior truly was trying to annoy him to death. That conniving bastard Alhaitham. 

Fontaine was very different from Sumeru, with different types of foods, shops, and culture. It was quite exciting the first week of your late honeymoon to duck into every shop along the city streets. You discovered that your husband was fluent in the language, anything you pointed at he would translate for you without hesitation. However, the wonder of sightseeing faded within just a few days, like the true homebodies you were, there was a silent agreement to spend the rest of the time in the grand honeymoon suite. 

The hotel Alhaitham booked was the most luxurious one Fontaine had to offer. You will have to blame this decision on the generous amount of financial freedom granted by a pharmaceutical payout. It was only fair in Alhaitham’s mind, you worked very hard during the rut brought on by faulty inhibitors. Hard work should be rewarded, so he decides you should be indulged with the best room service, fancy baths, and thousand-count silk sheets. 

How you spent your time in the suite was really no different than how you would spend it in Sumeru. Alhaitham was laying down on the silk sheets, back slightly propped up by down feather-filled pillows, unwinding with a book in his hand. 

“Ah…Ah!... Ah… Making your wife do all the work while on vacation? You’re such a terrible husband, Haitham.” You stilled your hips, hands propping yourself up along his toned body. 

“Mm? You were really enjoying yourself, I didn’t want to interrupt.” There was a teasing tilt in his voice, teal eyes never looking away from the sentences printed as his other hand rubbed circles into your hip. 

From this angle he reached deeper than usual, making you feel so much fuller. Your walls were clenching down, trembling with pleasure from the stretch and thick tip poking that one spongey spot. A while ago you had abandoned your book in favor of bouncing up and down on your husband’s lap. It was your late honeymoon, after all, there was almost five years' worth of time to make up for. 

You knew your husband was just teasing you, but your lips couldn’t stop a pout from forming. You shifted a bit more on top of his god-like physique, pressing his tip deeper against that sweet little spot deep inside. Wandering hands made their way to grope at his plush pectorals followed by your pouting face, eyes trained on the book your husband was so engrossed by. 

“Hmph…” A displeased huff left your lips, it was absolutely adorable to him. 

“Is something the matter?” The corner of his lip was upturned just the slightest bit. 

“It’s our honeymoon and yet my husband is already having an affair with a book.” You playfully sulked into his chest. 

“My, I never knew my wife was the jealous type.” Finally, he snapped the book closed, playful eyes gazing into yours. 

“I guess you learned something new then.” You gently confiscated the book from his hand, placing it farther away on the large bed. 

Alhaitham gave a hum of acknowledgment, both hands now firmly seizing the sides of your waist. Steadying your body before following it up with a solid snap of his hips. You pressed your face harder against his chest, muffling the moan that was suddenly forced out of you. 

“Isn’t this what you wanted? Why are you so quiet now?” His hips set a rhythm, slow and deep. 

His thick length dragged along your slick walls in all the right ways, you could feel every inch outlined inside you. Each roll of his hips gently lifted your body up before accompanying it back down. Your mouth fell open, breathing out soft moans against his warm skin. The smell of lust hung heavy in the air of the spacious room. But you wanted more, this slow lovemaking couldn’t satisfy the greed deep within. 

“Mmm… More…” 

“More?” His pace escalates just the slightest bit. 

The sloppy sounds of your connecting bodies were louder now, with each in and out of your slick cunt like purrs of pleasure. He was hitting that spot that brings shooting pleasure throughout your nerves. Still, maybe it's because your expectations have been set a bit high from your first taste, but your greed wanted more. 

“More~” You breathed out, face now pressed into the crook of his neck. 

“Mmm, I think I know what my lovely wife wants.” A hand supports the back of your head, smoothing out the hair. 

Swiftly you got turned under him, his board frame now looming above, that handsome smirk on his face. He rested your head gently on the dawn pillows, as your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him down closer to you. The combination of his weight on top of you and how heavy he felt inside your sobbing cunt sent shivers up your spine. Yes, this is what you wanted. 

Leaving the crook of his neck, your lips chased after his. Alhaitham couldn’t help but let out a small huff, you were quite needy today. His lips captured yours in a deep kiss, shallowing all your noises. He shall spoil you, it was your honeymoon after all. 

In this position, he had much better footing and grasp on your waist. Meaning the strength and pace of his hips slamming into yours increased to the rhythm you desired. Moans were flowing out like water from your mouth, eyes teary with lust. The claps of your bodies echo through the room, he would pull out to the tip then slam back in. Just the way you liked it. 

Teal eyes observed your loose face, the rolling back of your eyes signaling that the knot was about to come undone. But before he lets you reach cloud nine, you have to answer a question that he’s been pondering. 

“Would you rather have consistent pleasure spread evenly throughout the year… or four days of nonstop, mind-melting pleasure then nothing for the rest?” Alhaitham asked right up against your ear, making your skin bristle. 

You felt his hips roll back to their slow methodical pace. Oh, he wasn’t going to let you taste sweet release until you paid the toll of his curiosity. Really, your husband can be so mean sometimes. You let out a small whine, trying to roll your hips into his but his firm hold prevented such action. 

“Answer the question, sweetheart.” Alhaitham continued to egg you on, clearly enjoying your displeased whines. 

“Why can’t I have both?” You muttered close to his own ears, tightening your embrace around him to offset the embarrassment creeping up on you. 

At your response his hips stilled, stoic teal eyes gazing at you as you looked away. You didn’t see the smirk that returned to his features. 

“Goodness, my wife is insatiable.” He dragged his length out fully. 

Before you could even let out another whine at the loss, he returned it fully inside of you. Filling out your unexpecting walls again pounding against that spongey patch, making your back arch up and toes curl. 

“AH!” Your body was pressed impossibly close to his. 

“I wonder if I should keep you at home, confined to the bedroom for your sake.” His hot breath ghosted over your ear. 

He was pistoning in and out now, fat tip abusing your sweet spot just the way you wanted it. Your walls were clenching around his girth just like how your arms were holding onto him to ground your sanity. The searing white flashes of pleasure were shooting up through your nerves, the edge was approaching fast. The filthy fantasy Alhaitham was painting in your mind only served to quicken the process. 

“All you have to do is be a good wife, and welcome me home with open legs. How about that?” Alhaitham pressed sweet kisses against your neck, a far cry from the filth that was leaving his tongue. 

You felt his teeth brush against the side of your neck before they clamped down. That was what unraveled the knot inside you. Your ankles hooked together as your hips pushed closer to his. Back arching almost painfully, bodying trembling and eyes rolling back. Alhaitham let out a small hiss at the tightness of your walls contracting. He wasn’t going to last long if you continued to be this impossibly tight. 

He could tell from the way your eyes were still seeing the back of your head you were still in the midst of your orgasm. This meant that Alhaitham was free to chase after his own release now. So he does. His length continues to pound against your quivering walls, pushing through the tight clenches. The extra gush of slick helped to accelerate his movements further. Sloppy slapping of skin against skin, he could feel that his tip was probably red and swollen from his calculated delayed release. 

Pressing his pulsing tip right up against your cervix, the tension inside him finally snapped. Flooding your walls with thick, warm release. Your body instantly responded, walls beginning to twitch and convulse more, trying to milk every last drop. Alhaitham panted against your neck, sucking on the soft skin from time to time as he held your body close. 

“Mmm… Don’t mark up my neck. I brought all these pretty dresses to wear and now I can’t wear anything but turtle necks.” Your fingers tussled through his messy ash locks. It seems like you’ve returned from cloud nine.

“You can just wear them in the room.” He pressed another kiss to your neck. 

Before you could voice your complaints your husband buries your face into the crook of his neck, a silent invitation. Who were you to reject? The sensation of your teeth clamping down onto his smooth skin, leaving deep indentations seems to appease his primal urges noted by the low growl that rumbles in his chest. 

“Would you like to take a bath, habibti?” Gentle finger caressed your face. 

You hummed in confirmation, nuzzling into his touch more. The calm, sweet lull of intimacy washed over the room. Passion satisfied, for now at least. 

“You smell.” Dehya scrunched up her nose. 

You gave a deadpan stare at your Alpha friend beside you. You recently returned from your trip to Fontaine, meeting up with your friends to show them the gifts you had brought back. 

The weather wasn’t that hot today so you definitely weren’t sweating, and your outfit was also fresh from the clothesline. You even took a quick shower before you went to the agreed-upon cafe. You brought your arm up to your nose for a quick sniff, nothing smelled particularly off. 

“I smell normal.” You raised an eyebrow at her. 

“No, you smell like you just rolled around in the forest.” She retorted. 

Now you were confused, glancing at Candace and Nilou. Wait, why does it look like the two were trying to hold back their laughter? What is going on? You just wanted to give them their souvenirs. 

“What Dehya is trying to say is… it seems like you’ve gotten closer to your husband.” Candace rested her elbows on the table as she leaned in. 

Oh. They meant that. A scarlet flush instantly engulfed your cheeks, a silent admission of the truth. All at once you saw the gleam in your friends’ eyes, and they started hounding you for the details. 

The tea served at the cafe was always brewed to perfection and the leaves were of the highest quality. However, your friends were much more interested in the new development of your marriage. 

–

You were drained. You loved your friends, you really do. But spilling the tame details of the budding romance between you and your husband with burning cheeks sure depleted your battery. In a way, they deserved to know, supporting you for over five years throughout the murkier times. 

At the moment, you were curled up on the couch against your husband’s chest. Fingers fiddling with the ring that matched yours resting on his finger, as his attention was trained on the book in his other hand. It wasn’t time for your ritual quiet reading session, so you felt it was appropriate to quietly enjoy some skinship. Alhaitham didn’t seem to mind. 

“Haitham.” You began. 

“Mm?”

“What is your scent like?” You continued to fiddle with his wedding ring. 

“According to your friends, a tree.” His deep voice replied, never once looking up. 

“Mmm.” Your lips pressed into a line, still toying with the gold band. 

You had that look on your face, Alhaitham notes. Demons don’t disappear so easily, even at the start of a new chapter, they will continue to cling to your shadow. If he could, Alhaitham would strangle those devils with his own bare hands. But he couldn’t. So instead, he shall always be there to pull you out from the ice-cold water back to the warm shore. 

He flips the book over, placing it faced down on the arm of the couch. His full attention was now on you as he tenderly grasped your hand, pulling you closer. He pressed his nose against your neck, senses searching through the thick layer of opulent woodiness. 

The faint sweet hints of padisarah pudding mixed with the bath products and laundry detergent you shared were guarded by that layer. The scent that he recognizes as yours, the scent he shares with you. 

“I smell like you. That is the only scent I will recognize as mine.” His teal eyes peered up at you. 

You were silent for a moment, hand halting but still grasping the ring. 

“Pfft. Have you been reading my old novels again?” You couldn’t suppress the small laugh and smile. 

“Did you want me to?” 

“No.” 

You intertwined your fingers with his, rings clinking together, a physical show of a bond. 

Alhaitham rested his head in the crook of your neck, continuing to breathe in your essence. The scent of you always seems to lull him into a drowsy state of comfort. Yet, it wasn’t heavy nor did it cloud his thoughts, so he could always think clearly of you. Yes, this is the scent he adores. 

“Have you been doing something to make my Alpha and Omega coworkers avoid me?” 

“...” 

“What a weird Alpha you are.” You rubbed your cheek against your husband's resting face. 

You’ve been sluggish lately, Alhaitham observed. More often than not, he found himself carrying your sleeping frame back to bed after you fell asleep curled up on the sofa. Book in your limp hands. Your alarm would also be ringing longer than usual, you used to be able to turn it off by the first ring so as to not disturb him from his slumber. You knew he was a light sleeper. 

As he took a bite of the dinner you had just cooked he notes the blander taste. It was your usual style to throw in as many spices as you pleased. It was the start of flu season, and Alhaitham noted the cough that’s been going around in his office. However, he had a different hypothesis he wanted to share with you tonight. He watched as you chewed then shallowed. 

“Habibti, have you taken a pregnancy test lately?” His voice was calm, tone stable. 

Your fork clattered against your plate as you stared at him starstruck, eyes wide and mouth agape. This was why he waited, it wouldn’t be good to have food go down the wrong pipe. He maintained a neutral expression, staring into your eyes to read the emotions that were running rampant behind them. 

“N-no… but…” A furrow formed between your brow as you brought a hand up your mouth. A habit of yours when you were deep in thought. 

The two of you were careful. Pills are taken at specific times. Morning after teas were always in stock around the house, either he brews it for you right after a moment of passion or you would drink it in the morning. However, Alhaitham wasn’t startled. He understands that even with birth control there was always a risk. 

Dinner was swiftly finished, dishes piled in the sink for later, there were more pressing matters to attend to. You were currently in the bathroom with the pregnancy test he had picked up on his way home from work. Alhaitham was leaning his back on the wall beside the bathroom door. He was trying to calculate when you last had your time of the month, or when exactly you began to behave differently. 

The singing hinges of the bathroom door pulled him out of his thoughts. You had that look on your face again. Alhaitham didn’t even need to look at the test in your hands to know the results, two red lines. From how frozen your stance was in the door frame, he already knew what thoughts were running through your mind. 

Children were never planned nor discussed, at the beginning the two of you were much more focused on your careers and enjoying your free time. That is to say, you greatly enjoyed the double income and no kids life. However, there was now a fork in the road. The hands holding the test were now trembling. Alhaitham quickly brought you into a tender embrace, to silence the wild thoughts before they begin to torment you. 

“Whatever your decision may be, I will support it unconditionally. Take your time.” Rubbing a small circle into your back. 

You were silent but your arms wrapped around his torso, resting your head against his shoulder. Quiet reading time was a bit more quiet than usual tonight. 

–

It was now a Saturday night, Alhaitham had already situated himself on his spot on the couch. There was already a book in his hands, but he didn’t open it, he was waiting for you. You usually didn’t take this long in the shower, he was beginning to wonder if he should go knock on the door. But there was no need, soon the soft thumps of your steps were heard coming down the hall. 

Contrary to the usual, you make a b-line straight into his lap, curling up against his board frame. He didn’t say anything, supporting you with an arm and holding you closer. 

“I want to keep the baby.” You spoke softly against his neck. 

Alhaitham closed his eyes, mind going deep into thought. There was more than enough money saved up to support a child. Sumeru has free good quality health care, a great daycare program, and the best education system. The nation offers a generous tax deduction for families with children. There were enough rooms in the house that one could be turned into a nursery, it would be troublesome to have to babyproof everything and rearrange the furniture. 

Ah, the two of you will have to sacrifice your free time and sleep to take care of a needy newborn. However… He opened his eyes. 

“Then we should start making preparations for our new addition.” 

If it’s with you, Alhaitham is more than willing to sacrifice those luxuries and needs. 

Alhaitham had to be more observant, the changes to your body and hormones made it so you were much more sensitive to your surroundings. Foods that were too strong in scent had to be dialed back or not cooked in the house. He also took care to clear the floor of any stacks of books lest your foot knocks into them. 

The worst part of it was probably how the pregnancy was disrupting your sleep. Your body needs it, yet the growing bump and overactive hormones made it hard for you to find a position that welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep. Often tossing and turning, Alhaitham would  place a pillow under your belly which seemed to help a bit. 

Then came morning sickness, Alhaitham is adamant that your child be thankful for all the suffering you were enduring to give life to them. 

The ashen-haired Alpha had been extra careful with his inhibitors as well, making sure each dose was measured to the line and constantly checking the dates printed on the bottles. Still, the clawing of his instincts only grew stronger as his teal eyes observe your bump growing day by day. You were working so hard to carry the child, he needed to do something to make you relax and comfortable. 

–

Currently, your bed has been buried under a mountain of quilts and plush pillows. You had your hands on your hips as your eyes surveyed the messy state of the bed you had just made a few hours earlier. You folded and pack those quilts away weeks ago, why were they back out? 

“Haitham, why can’t I see our own bed?”

“There’s no cause for concern. Your body must be tired, go take a rest.” A gentle large hand rested on your lower back, encouraging you towards the heavenly pile. 

That sentiment from seven years ago still rings true to this day. Your husband is weird. Still, there was a small smile on your face, what a silly sweet weirdo he is. The soft wafts of fresh linen encapsulated your senses, layers upon layers of fabric cushioning your achy joints and growing belly. Gentle fingers combed their way through your hair, making your eyelids grow heavy. 

Were these inherited instincts or learned gestures from old light novels? Oh well, the answer is irrelevant. 

One Saturday afternoon you were rudely awakened by the maddening repetition of thumping. You were now well into your second trimester, the bump on your belly growing steadily day by day, which only meant your sleep schedule only got worse. All your senses have been going into overdrive lately, every bump in the night making your eyes snap open. You groggily rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, begrudgingly rousing your sluggish body from the haven of pillows and blankets. 

By this point, you and Alhaitham had announced to friends and family about your pregnancy, there were many tears of excitement shed that day. Followed by a steady stream of boxes and gifts placed into your or your husband's hands. These items ranged from teas to help with morning sickness to long loose maternity gowns. 

At first, you raised an eyebrow at the shapeless dresses your mother had gifted to you. Stating that they made you look like a lost ghost. However, now with your baby bump, the soft loose fabric felt divine against your sensitive skin. Carefully, pushing off the mattress you took your time gaining your balance. Moving has become troublesome because of your now shifted center of gravity.

Steadying yourself with a hand on the hallway wall you waddled toward the source of the commotion. As you grew closer to the room across the guest room, an extra space that was utilized as a small side library the barrage of noises stung your ears more. You felt irritation creeping up on you. 

Grasping your hand on the door frame you peered inside to see a head of blonde hair. Oh. It’s Kaveh. That explains the noise. 

You quietly observed the back of the unaware man as he continued to hammer furniture together. Your husband had told you earlier in the week that Kaveh would be coming over to help set up the nursery. He mentioned something about the blond having to pay off an old debt. 

Oh well, it saves you and Alhaitham the trouble of rearranging the furniture. 

“Ugh, that bastard has not changed a single bit. Who would choose such an ugly bassinet? His poor child will be welcomed into the world surrounded by ugly furniture.” 

Your lips pressed into a firm line. You had chosen the bassinet when out shopping with your husband. You bought it with your own money too. You thought it was quite cute… It’s cute, right? You waddled off to find your husband. 

“Alhaitham…” Tighnri stood just to the left of the glass door of the small cafe, your favorite cafe. 

Your husband was exiting the door, a small chime from the bell hanging above his head announcing his departure. A brown take-out bag, that contained the padisarah pudding you have been craving for the fourth time this week, clutched firmly in his hand. Alhaitham greeted his fellow colleague with a nod of acknowledgment. 

“I know your wife is pregnant. However, food should be in moderation. Especially sweets. You should know that during pregnancy the change in hormones makes it harder for the body to control its levels of-”

The ashen-haired man raised one hand, signaling for the other to halt their lecture. 

“I acknowledge your expertise and advice. However, time is precious and to save both of ours, I invite you to take this debate up with my wife. To warn you beforehand, you will lose.” 

Tighnari let out a huff of exasperation, steps heading in the direction of your shared home with Alhaitham. Surely you were more reasonable than your Alpha husband at the moment. Tighnari knew it was in their primal instincts to pamper their mates, caving into any demand no matter how unreasonable or troublesome. 

The head secretary has always been a rather level-headed individual in his eyes, sometimes to a fault, so it must just be his instincts influencing his actions. Tignari even heard from a certain blond that the ashen-haired man had given him the deadliest glare because the architect had critiqued your taste in home decor. 

“It’s normal for people to have cravings during their pregnancies, and for the most part, it’s harmless. However, there is a whole misconception about the saying ‘eating for two’. In truth, you only need about an extra glass of milk and an extra pita pocket a day. You are feeding a small-”

Alhaitham stared ahead at the path in front of him, doing his best to tune out the ramblings of the shorter man walking beside him. He had one purpose, and that was to deliver your padisarah pudding to you. 

–

Tighnari was now walking in the direction of his own home, spirit shaking a bit. Like always, Alhaitham’s prediction was flawless. He lost. The defiant blank gaze you gave him at the doorway of your house was enough to make the ebony-haired Alpha stop his clearly unsolicited advice. In the end, you got your pudding.

“That is all I have to report. Now that you have this knowledge, I trust that you will be able to decide if this proposition is fair or not. Here are the files for you to look through.” The ivory-haired Alpha placed the stack of papers on the smooth desk. 

“Understood. Thank you for the report, Cyno.” Alhaitham gathered the paperwork into his hands, beginning to skim through the contents. 

His teal-orange eyes soon left the crisp papers, peering at his colleague with an inquisitive glance. It wasn’t like the head lawyer to remain in his office after he finished delivering his information. 

“Is there any more you would like to discuss?” 

“Yes, I have prepared a gift for your child.” Cyno reached into his blazer pocket. 

Alhaitham hid his sigh. Your home was already littered with so many gifts and baby items, it was troublesome keeping the floors clear of any potential tripping hazards. You were now in your third trimester, slow steps more focused on your balance and the ache in your lower back than paying attention to the floor. 

Your husband wonders if he should have waited until he applied for maternity leave to tell his closest colleagues about your pregnancy. 

“Here.” Cyno handed him an engraved box.

Was this a TCG card case? Alhaitham’s unreadable eyes shifted between the case and the head lawyer’s eager eyes. Really, he should’ve expected this, he is already well aware of the tan Alpha’s obsession with the card game. 

“Thank you.” Your husband took the gift from the awaiting hand. 

“I custom-made the deck to be as beginner friendly as possible. Even still, these cards are staples in the game so this deck will be solid regardless of the changing meta. I made sure to have every card laminated as young children don’t know restraint. The box is also custom-made, it is made from solid wood but any sharp edges have been rounded out.”

“You didn’t have to go through so much unnecessary trouble.” Alhaitham wishes that Cyno didn’t. 

“Since most gifts have been either for your wife or for the child, I have prepared a gift for you as well.” Cyno reached into his inner coat pocket. 

This was unexpected. Your husband observed the tan man pull out a small journal. Stationary? You had already gifted Alhaitham a lifetime supply, but they were for only very important situations. So this could be a welcomed addition.

“I wrote down some of my best jokes for you to tell.” 

Nevermind. Alhaitham didn’t even want to reach for the small notebook. Cyno places it on top of the desk. 

“It’s unnecessary.” 

“It will help pass the time while entertaining your child. Your wife has been pregnant for a while now, it must feel like an maternity.” 

“...”

“Did you not get it? It’s because ‘maternity’ sounds like ‘eternity’ and-”

“I am very busy, head lawyer. Please excuse yourself from my office.”  

 Alhaitham was aware of the concept of ‘pregnancy glow’ from the anatomical journals he read some time ago. However, seeing it in person was much different from what the book had described. Another example of how learning purely from books is not enough. 

You were radiant, features softer and skin glowing. The aura around you has also been much gentler, likely attributed to your constant drowsiness and lack of stress from work as you were now on maternity leave. More often than not, Alhaitham finds it hard to keep his hands off of you.

 Resting an open hand on your round belly, feeling the subtle shifts of your child as he reads. Hugging you from behind as you cook, it’s to support the baby he reasons. He offers his chest as a pillow whenever sleep calls for you regardless if it was on the couch, you needed your rest.

However, there’s a caveat: others can’t seem to keep their hands off you either. 

“Oh! What a strong kick! I think they have real potential for dance.” Nilou exclaimed as she felt your belly. 

“Haha, what a meddlesome kid already. Kicking your poor mommy.” Dehya also had one hand resting a top. 

“It’s uncomfortable, yes, but it’s a good sign that they’re healthy and strong.” You let out a small sigh. 

“Here, have another pillow to support you” Candace placed the soft cushion behind your back, relieving some of the pressure. 

“Thank you, Candace. Even though I’m going to become a mother soon, it seems you’ll always be the mom of our group.” You giggled, giving your friends a wide smile. 

“Oh, you flatter me too much.” Candace chuckled, joining the rest in feeling your round bump. 

Alhaitham sat in your usual spot on the adjacent sofa, trying to read his book. However, his teal eyes couldn’t help but peer over at the hands that were plastered all over your belly. Although his gaze remained neutral, his lips were slightly pressed into a line. Their hands didn’t need to linger for that long he surmises. 

–

“Have a safe trip back!” You bid your friends goodbye, it was nice to have visitors when you couldn’t leave the house easily. 

Alhaitham closes the front door after their figures disappeared into the distance, offering his muscular arm to support you. You gladly accepted, as your feet and joints sang with relief as pressure was shifted off of them. Slowly strolling down the hall back to the living room. 

Alhaitham presses a soft kiss against your temple, a clever diversion from his true intentions. He couldn’t help the frown that formed on his lips or the scrunch of his nose. Your friends had drenched you in their scent, overpowering your subtle fragrance. Tsk, this is why others should keep their hands to themselves. 

“Let's take a shower. Of course, I’ll assist you.” 

“Mm? Haitham, it’s pretty early. We haven’t even had dinner.” 

“I’ll help you wash your hair as well.” 

“Haitham-”

“I’ll massage your shoulders and feet afterward.” 

“... Fine… remember to use the lotion as well.” 

“Of course.” 

There was no reason to be nervous even as your due date grew closer and closer. A room at the Bimarstan has already been reserved. He had already prepared a hospital bag with extra clothes, blankets, and toiletries. Alhaitham also packed some books in there was well. However, as you began to count down the days, it’s hard not to notice the anticipation in the air. You were very much ready to meet your child and to finally not be pregnant anymore. 

“Do you think the child will be more like you or me?” You turned to face your husband as he lay in bed. 

“It doesn’t matter. As long as they’re healthy.” Alhaitham tucks a quilt from the nest up to your chin. 

“Oh? I think that if our child looks like you but has my personality, they’d be quite popular.” You pondered out loud. 

“Mm.” Alhaitham pulls you closer to him from behind, resting his chin atop your head. 

“Then if they resemble you, it's best that they have my personality. Lest our peaceful lives will be disrupted by a constant stream of suitors at the door.” He entertains your musing. 

Your soft giggle jingles through the air as you stroked your belly, his hands soon join yours. A comfortable silence encapsulated the two of you, his soft caresses lulling your heavy lids closed. This was the sweet calm lull of normalcy, and you both were satisfied. 

Alhaitham had closed his eyes, only for them to snap open with the sudden jolt of your body. Did the baby kick again? They sure are disruptive, he can already feel the long sleepless nights to come. However, there were still a few days to stock up on as much rest as possible. 

“Haitham, I think my water broke.” 

Nevermind. 

–

 You were holding onto his hand with an iron-clad grip, crushing his fingers together. However, he knew this was barely scratching the surface of the discomfort you were currently experiencing. If he could, Alhaitham would bare all your pain himself. 

However, he couldn’t so he’ll sit beside you in the Bimarstan, brushing the hair out of your sweat-socked face and whispering sweet nothings to encourage your efforts. You’ve been in labor now for about four hours. Alhaitham has decided that the first thing your child learns to write will be a thank you letter addressed to you. 

You were trying to keep your breathing as stable as possible, practicing the technique the midwife taught you. Put the pain of the contractions always broke your streak, making you have to start from the beginning to try and steady your breath. The midwives and doctors were encouraging you to push as hard as you could. You already were, but you took a deep breath and then held onto it. Giving it your all. 

--

“WWAAHHHHH!” 

A loud, piercing, yet beautiful cry echoed off the walls. 

“It's a boy!” The doctors announced. 

--

“He’s got quite the set of lungs.” You giggled, tears still pooling at the corners of your eyes. Cradling your newborn. 

Alhaitham only let out a gentle hum, resting his head on your shoulder as he gazes at his son. Eyes as soft as the little one’s plump cheeks. It was quite a riveting experience, how can one fall in love with a little stranger so quickly? 

“No more full nights rest for us when we return home, huh.” You rested your head on top of his ashen hair, smiling as you continued to stare at your little bundle. 

Your husband lets out a soft mixture of a hum and a chuckle. He’s already prepared himself to sacrifice sleep in order to nurture this little bond created between the two of you. 

To your surprise and his great delight, your child sleeps through the nights well. A little too well. You had been released from the Bimarstan just a few days ago, the doctors all said your child was healthy. However, you couldn’t help but stare at him as if you were in a trance. 

“Come to bed, your body needs the rest to heal.” His warm touch grasped the sides of your shoulders, as Alhaitham pressed his face into your neck. Trying to lure you back. 

“Yes, I know but… just a little while longer.” You reached a hand up to tussle through his soft locks. 

Your eyes never stopped observing the small ups and downs of your little bundle of joy as he slept. Well, the face he made earlier when you had woken him up for his regular feedings sure wasn’t one of joy. He’s just like his father, grumpy when disturbed from the sweet embrace of sleep. But he needed to feed every three hours if he was to grow up healthily. 

“He’s quite a lot like you. A deep sleeper.”

“Oh? I think he’s quite like you, Haitham. You should’ve seen the mean mug he gave me.”

“I never scowl at you.”

“Yes, but you’re grumpy when woken up.”

“Hmph.” Your husband buries his face deeper into your nape. Teal eyes never breaking their gaze from the child you’ve gifted him. 

The air was quiet, yet warm and sweet. It was well past your preferred bedtime, but strangely not a single muscle felt tired as two pairs of eyes continued to study the small moments of his chest. 

“Should we head to bed now, Haitham?”

“Mm, perhaps a few more minutes wouldn’t make a drastic difference.” 

Fin~

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #al-haitham x you #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smut #alhaitham scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin omegaverse #genshin smut #alhaitham fluff #vivalabunbunfics #alhaitham fanfic #al haitham x you #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham imagines

[feraliminal]

Cross-Faction Diplomacy

Titan TV tries to give Titan Speaker reassurance, but makes things worse. They both use various forms of communication to calm down. Ship-ish, but with plausible deniability.

I’m back from a super busy week and I want to start turning some of my (many) scraps into actual fic! This was inspired by speculation on how the Alliance communicate and think, and an essay on consciousness called “What Is It Like to Be a Bat?” which concludes that you can’t know unless you are one.

—

“Why did you call me? Is that it?” The TVmen’s titan gestured across the hill range from where they stood with the speakermen’s titan, towards a very tiny, very new base. It was a few floodlights casting a glow over a few shipping containers, and a few speakermen on night watch, instead sitting on their arses and playing cards. This was exactly what they’d expected to see, no surveillance system had picked up anything more interesting than a few wandering toilets for miles, at least none that they had access to. But they also suspected it was worth keeping up appearances - two things could be happening, either the speakermen had picked up something big on surveillance that wasn’t linked to the Alliance’s general network -

- or their titan had pulled off a sneaky social call

“Strategic importance, and we’ve only got to make sure nothing happens until everything else arrives in a few hours.” Titan Speaker insisted through a speech transmission, using their faction’s habit of transmitting emotion data as well. In this case, it was something like you trust me, right? “And nothing else is happening.”

The emotion thing, Titan TV found hard to know what to do with. TVs didn’t do it, unless they really meant it. Or were trying to convince someone they really meant it. It was difficult to know if and how to respond, and they recalled Polycephaly describe addressing those kind of differences as cross-faction diplomacy - and as a pain in the arse. They switched to transmission too, encrypting it in case anyone at the base was feeling nosey. “Sure. What’s this really about?”

“Seriously?” Titan Speaker made a dismayed buzz. “You aren’t supposed to say that.”

“What was I supposed to say?” It seemed obvious that this was a way to justify an in-person chat without factions having to figure out a playdate protocol. But with the spectre of cross-faction diplomacy hanging over them, Titan TV tried to do the emotion thing. It didn’t work. Sincerity somehow became contempt-fondness. You’re an idiot but I like you hadn’t been the intent, but it was sincere.

The speakers’ titan tilted their head, lights shimmering a little brighter. “I guess you weren’t supposed to do that either,” they teased. “I thought you’d think meeting to talk is a waste of time, but…?”

“If you need to say it in person, I trust it’s important.” A dozen possibilities, and none particularly easy to contemplate. The TVs’ titan noticed they were shifting their balance a little, foot to foot, and stopped it.

Transmitting uncertain-awkward-worried, Titan Speaker looked out towards the little base, then up at the night sky, as if the words they were looking for were floating around. “Not important, I just… I dunno. I want to ask something first. Does it now feel like there’s more than one… uh, you?” They gestured with their finger, as if drawing an air-circle around the other titan’s primary and secondary screens.

“No, not a lot different. My conscious processing is more or less the same, just spread out and harder to kill.” Not a lot different was still different - the first time they’d switched from automated to conscious control of their secondary heads was an experience they still hadn’t entirely come to terms with and didn’t want to revisit just yet. Not while they needed to be in the here and now for whatever was going on in Titan Speaker’s own head. “Are you thinking about upgrades?”

“No. Well, yeah, maybe one day. But I asked because I’m thinking about weird brain stuff.” Wrapping their arms around themself, the speakers’ titan crouched down on their heels. They started to transmit something, a jumbled, ghostly kind of feeling, then paused. “Okay, I called you to talk about…”

But they didn’t. They stayed silent, on comms and audio.

The TVs’ titan noticed where the pools of light cast by the pair’s respective glowing components overlapped. The new outpost sat in its own pool of light downhill, part of a landscape of similar little points of light that made their mental map of the Alliance’s networks mirror the night sky. In the outpost, the guards were swapping tunes. Twenty miles away, a turret was dealing with one of those wandering toilets, the only other thing remotely interesting happening. Titan Speaker’s glow was receding “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Titan Speaker flopped back off their heels into a slumped seated position, and signed ‘No shit.’ Then, when their companion turned their main screen to watch, ‘Sorry, do you understand this? I’ve never seen a TV do it.’

“We understand it, we don’t tend to use it ourselves.” It was one of (many) indicators of how well the speakermen and cameramen had managed to operate as one, and their people hadn’t. “Use it if you need to, I can try too.”

‘Thanks. You don’t have to, it’s dark and my vision’s low resolution, so if you’re not used to sign…’ The speakermen’s titan shrugged, paused again, and with a might-as-well-go-for-it burst, quickly signed, ‘Being able to remember what I did when I was infected is still freaking me out and I want to know what you make of it. I know it’s not the same, but it’s all weird brain stuff and you’re the weird brain stuff faction.’

It was difficult to reconcile the ridiculousness of being called the weird brain stuff faction with the desperation in the request. Titan TV felt their screens flickering and needed to make an effort to hold back whatever might leak into the transmission. “You need to ask your science team.”

‘I don’t mean that, I don’t mean what happened to me, but what happened to me.’ They emphasised the last sign with a sharper movement, and had stopped transmitting emotion. The TVs’ titan supposed it was for similar reasons that they’d chosen not to - this needed straightforward discussion now and a fuckton of firepower later, save the anger for then. ‘They said it wasn’t me, but I was there, the parasite made me do it and I did it, it’s like, now I know I can do that, I can’t trust me not to do it again.’ They paused. ‘I haven’t asked again. I didn’t want to freak them out as well.’

“That was your body, and your body saved data. The intrusive thoughts are probably just subconscious metacognition systems sorting it all out. Really, ask someone, engineers think about this stuff so we don’t have to.”

Titan Speaker shifted to stare straight at their bigger companion, signing more slowly with a perceptible shake in their hands. ‘Me is also what my body does.’

The Alliance had shared (heavily redacted) schematics for the titans across faction borders, so Titan TV knew that what their companion was perceiving. Audio data and electromagnetic signature first, then visual data was a secondary source. But still, they angled their side-screens to illuminate their body and softened all their lights to reduce glare. Even with simulation or data transference, it would be impossible to know what it was really like to inhabit Titan Speaker’s perceptual space, with all its memories, meanings, metacognition. And even if visual data wasn’t that important, considering it was part of how Titan TV showed respect from their own perceptual space. “It won’t happen again. That was not you in any meaningful sense of what you are.”

‘I’m tired of everyone saying that.’ The speakermen’s titan rocked forward to crouch on their heels again, made an intention movement to stand that didn’t go further than a twitch, and clasped their arms around themself. They switched to comms again, and the transmission came out cracked with static. “I thought you, of all people, would get that. Everyone’s telling me it didn’t happen but… I was forced to kill my friends and I just… I just want to be allowed to feel like shit about it.” They let out a distorted audio “Fuck.”

“Fuck.” Titan TV echoed that statement, in reverse.

Neither of them had much to say right after that. There wasn’t really else that could be said. The TVs’ titan watched their companion looking up at the stars, softly illuminating their own little patch of red light. They uncoiled, slightly, from their gargoyle crouch, still hunched but dropping on to their knees.

No longer bothering to keep their slight swaying motion in check, Titan TV offered, “We need to get out of here. There’s a suspected underground lair, you’ll be able to locate it, and we’ll blow the roof off. I don’t have clearance to investigate yet, but two of us will be more than enough to overcome anyone’s concerns about risk.”

The sag in Titan Speaker’s shoulders was unexpected. “No. I’m not outsourcing my shit, not to my engineers and definitely not to everyone else by sneaking off.” But not nearly as unexpected as what they shared when they were the first to use emotive comms again. No anger, just sadness, confusion, and grief. Uncoiling a little more, they signed ‘Stay here. Sit with me.’

It wouldn’t have felt right to say no to this poor creature who’d sooner arrange an awkward clandestine meeting with someone they, really, barely knew than upset their friends. Titan TV shook their primary head with exasperation, and settled down cross-legged on the hillside. Titan Speaker watched, looked away and signed something to themself, then did an ungainly shuffle-flop to move right beside them.

They both took their time to adjust to the dissonance of this whole thing, pinging little status requests and presence acknowledgments at each other until they realised that they no longer needed to and had been enjoying doing it just for the sake of it. The speakermen’s titan trilled their approval and did a tiny wriggle.

“I like watching you move,” Titan TV commented.

‘I like that you moved your screens so I could see you better. Can I lean on you?’

“Yes.” Titan TV’s side-screen was obscured by the smaller titan moving closer and working out how best to arrange their speaker array, finally settling in and gently nudging their head against the screen casing. Making an adjustment themself, the TV leaned in little too. Staying had been the right decision, providing a few stabilising moments for both of them.

When they leaned back, the TVmen’s titan thought they felt something that could have just been an artefact of their movements, but it was a bit too persistent for that. Suspecting what it was, they inclined their primary head against the top of their companion’s array, and there it was - a barely perceptible vibration that was becoming more noticeable until it somehow managed to travel through their body and into the ground under them. It made their vision blur very slightly at the edges, but otherwise didn’t feel unpleasant. “Purring?” they rumbled, purr-like themself.

“You don’t mind it?” There was a new contentment in the speaker titan’s transmission, and the vibrations became a little wobbly. Signing would be tricky in this position, but they were making the most of that by sharing emotive comms freely. “Kind of. I’m just… feeling everything. Grounding myself. No sense of impending doom?”

“That’s oddly specific. Infrasound?” What Titan TV felt as a vibration was likely composed of echolocation and electrolocation and, being too low frequency to be useful for scanning, the infrasound component was probably just there for communication or self-soothing. They found it fun (if a little tragic) to imagine someone, possibly the cameramen’s titan, getting creeped out by an overenthusiastic purr. Cross-faction diplomacy again. “We use it too. Although admittedly not for purring.”

“For…?” Titan Speaker looked up, blinking their lights at their companion, who went ‘ ≽^•⩊•^≼ ‘ and said “Slaughter.”

“Terrifying.” They’d both aimed for a deadpan delivery - but it was interrupted for the better by the speaker titan’s failed attempt to suppress a squeaky giggle.

“You’re terrifying, you see sound and your idea of grounding is making the earth shake.” The TVmen’s titan wondered if speakermen were able to perceive the world as assemblages of vibrating particles. It was one thing to have the knowledge of that, it must be unsettling to really feel it. There was a lot to learn about the other factions, and their titans. “You’re well worth my time. We’re a sample size of three, and should be sharing data.”

With an affectionate hum, Titan Speaker bumped their head against the bigger titan’s chest and released a silent burst of something that interrupted their train of thought as well as their vision, and really did feel as if it had made the earth shake for a split second. A mischievous confirmation of you bet I’m terrifying.

“I’ll find something really strategically important next time.”

#first fic in five years and it’s bloody skibidi toilet lmao #skibidi toilet #skibidi fanfic #titan tvman #titan speakerman

[blindbeta]

Hi! Incredibly specific question here, if it's not relevant, that's okay! Can you write in braille with random tools you could find at a party? I'm writing a story with a scene where one character, L, runs into her old friend, C, (who happens to be blind) for the first time in years. L's undercover at a gala for reasons and thankfully isn't recognized by C because she manages to avoid talking to her, but she wants to leave her contact information discretely in a way that C could read, rather then risk talking to her and blowing her cover. I was thinking of having her use random things she can find at this gala to write a note in braille (like a business card and a toothpick/fork/something) before smuggling it into C's pocket or purse. Is freestyle braille even realistic in the slightest? Or should I have them reconnect in a different way? Any tips?

I’m not sure about at a party specifically, but I can speculate on what tools the character might plausibly be able to use.

The first that comes to mind is a slate and stylus, as that what people use generally. I don’t believe a character who isn’t blind would carry one on them, unless they are making an effort to routinely practice Braille. Maybe she is currently challenging herself to learn to write with a slate and stylus, as some people struggle with writing backwards.

The first thing they need is paper. If they don’t already have that, a study notecard or card stock might do the trick. Notecards tend to be thicker than regular paper. Thickness is important because the resulting Braille will last longer and be easier to read over time. This may not be as important for the situation you’re writing about. Thickness also helps prevent poking holes into the paper or tearing it. A business card might be similar to a notecard in terms of thickness.

Another idea is rolls for labeling, especially because these will be smaller and easier to pass to someone else without many people noticing.

Perhaps your character could find these things in a study or something. Since this takes place at a gala, I imagine business cards would not be uncommon, nor would access to quality stationary materials as long as your character can sneak in to get them. Perhaps a kitchen might also have notecards for dinning seating chart purposes or for waitstaff?

The main issue I’m running into is the stylus. Again, your character may not have one on her. If the character she is giving her contact information to is also a guest at the gala, she is unlikely to have a stylus with her. Unless she is mainly there for networking purposes and adapting notecards she receives to make them accessible? If she has one on her, your character could borrow it and return it when she slips her the contact information.

Does anyone else have ideas for a stylus stand-in that wouldn’t simply poke holes in the paper or be impossible to read? I have no ideas.

If your characters are friends, your character might be able to send it to the blind character’s location after the party since, if she can improvise this at a party, she might be resourceful enough to do.

Edit:

@ionized-alpaca replied:

in sturdy paper (cardstock thickness or so), poking a hole with a pin (maybe the character is wearing a lapel pin or brooch?) will also create a palpable bump. but since the bumps are created by the paper deforming as it's punctured, they aren't the neatest. it might have to be more spaced out than normal braille to be readable.

Thank you for adding this information. Guess I need to try poking holes through business cards lol

#writing braille #braille #blind characters #writing blind characters

[robotic-rin]

Be Still, My Indelible Friend

(Yes Man x Reader)

Summary: You’ve been in love with Yes Man for a long time. Like, an embarrassing amount of time. It doesn’t help that his assertiveness upgrade has made him an unbearable tease to you. All you know is, fighting for your Independent New Vegas together was hard, but redefining your ever-shifting relationship in the peace that follows might just be harder.

Word Count: 12,716

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: robot/human sex galore, praise kink, degradation kink, afab reader (no gendered terms are used), tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there, subbing/bottoming for yes man’s character development, sorry for giving yes man a dick (no i am not), this is literally what happens after the wild card ending todd told me himself guys

Author’s Notes: shoutout to bill cipher for inadvertently providing me with a nickname for courier six that’s more cute and personable than just “courier” imo. anyways hope y’all enjoy fucking the robot. this was supposed to be pwp but i love yes man so much that it’s a genuine problem so there’s just a lot of feelings in here as well. also you canonically slept with benny in this one bc i think it’s hilarious and always do but it’s only mentioned briefly so you can just close your eyes to that aspect if you don’t like it. anyways y’all saw the tags, so if you’re down with all that stuff and are 18+, come on in!

So, it turns out that running an Independent New Vegas wasn’t nearly the full-time gig that you and Yes Man had been expecting when you threw General Oliver off of that dam. Sure, there were important meetings and heavy decisions to be made, but for the most part, the Strip ran itself, with the rest of New Vegas following suit. The two of you replacing Mr. House was showing to have its pros and cons, but it was at least preferable to being led by the corrupt alternatives. Only time would tell if your good intentions, instincts, and hatred of answering to any authority figures would be enough to keep New Vegas thriving, but for now, its leaders were left with plenty of extra time on their hands. One thing that you knew for certain was that Yes Man had been using his newfound time and personal freedom to upgrade himself, sometimes disappearing for days at a time on the hunt for some new part or informational chip that he would use to improve his capabilities. Mr. House’s network held more information on Securitron upgrades than you ever would’ve guessed, and Yes Man wasn’t going to let those resources go to waste. He’d already unlocked so many new and helpful abilities, but he was beginning to show the emerging quality of perfectionism as of late, so too much was never enough.

“You do know we have a Securitron army at our disposal, right?” you’d ask him teasingly on multiple occasions. “I think becoming the best version of yourself is great, but I don’t want you to burn yourself out over it.”

And in response, Yes Man would always bark out a mechanical laugh. “I really do appreciate the concern, but I think one day, you might be grateful that I’ve prepared myself for every possible situation, Sixer.” And that would be the end of that.

Things continue on in this way for awhile, and you often find yourself missing that big, silly Securitron when he’s not around. Realistically, you have plenty of companions to spend time with and keep you company at the Lucky 38 when Yes Man is out. And you do often busy yourself with hosting fun nights for all of them to attend, taking advantage of the current peaceful situation. Laughing with Veronica, drinking with Boone, getting dirty looks from Arcade when you two drink a bit too much, it’s always great fun. And while you do truly love and cherish the time you’re able to spend with your close friends, you always inexplicably find yourself longing to talk to Yes Man about your day, to feel the warmth of his processors and hear his mechanisms whirring beneath his metal exterior when you get close enough to him. Thinking about this for too long only ever seems to end in you feeling flushed and embarrassed, so you try to dismiss the thoughts whenever they manage to weasel themselves into your head. Unfortunately for you, this is starting to happen all too often.

You find yourself in this exact predicament now, as you relax in the private cocktail lounge level of your home at the Lucky 38. You’d just been on an exciting adventure with Cass earlier that day: getting into a shady deal, being double-crossed, fighting back for your lives. It was a pretty standard day as far as your life goes, but as you sit at the picturesque bar, you again find yourself yearning to share the tale with Yes Man. He’s such a good listener, always interested in how your escapades bring you so close to death, and yet always end with you finding a way out. You love hearing about his adventures through the Mojave as well, how his eyes will get extra big and his volume rises as he retells tales of how he was just rolling through the desert, minding his own business, and then suddenly had to whip out his missiles in a split second to stop the Powder Gangers that often try to jump out ambush him for spare parts. He’s an unexpectedly talented storyteller now that he can talk about his own experiences more, and you could listen to that sweet, energetic voice talk about anything for hours on end. Time spent with Yes Man was always precious to you, and the memory of it leaves you feeling incredibly lonely at the moment.

Sighing to yourself in the barstool, you continue to slouch as you swish the drink you’d just fixed around in its glass. The lights of New Vegas twinkle mesmerizingly against the evening sunset sky outside of your huge windows, but your mind is elsewhere. That big, goofy grin that he gets when he first sees me after we’ve been apart…that self-satisfied inflection that his voice gets when he knows he’s teasing me good…the faces he might make if I could get him all riled up and flustered. You slam your drink down on the counter after that last one, metaphorically severing the thread of that thought. Thinking like that led to dangerous places that had proven to result in you feeling simultaneously guilty and extremely aroused. After all, he was a Securitron, probably incapable of feeling whatever it is your brain wanted from him in a situation like that. Almost definitely incapable of experiencing sexual gratification. More than that, he was your friend, and thinking of him in that way made you feel bad. Would he assume you thought of him as no better than that mindless pleasure bot down at the Atomic Wrangler? You could never think so lowly of him, but it didn’t stop you from feeling bad for quietly desiring him. He would probably never speak to me again if he knew. Or worse, he would, and I’d have to hold a normal adult conversation with a Yes Man who knows how bad I want him. You swiftly down the rest of your drink.

As if on cue with your chugging, all of the lights in the bar area suddenly turned off, shrouding the entire visible lounge in near-darkness. Funny, I’ve never blacked out after one drink before, you muse to yourself. You may not have the best judgement to be calmly cracking jokes to yourself in your mind in this precarious position, but you don’t get to where you’re at in life without having a certain disregard for your own safety. If it’s an assassin, it’s an assassin. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s holding a knife to my throat.

You feel a heavy presence approach from behind your barstool, but make no move to spin around and catch them. You stay still, waiting to see how this shakes out on autopilot. They’re so close behind you that you swear you can feel their breath on your neck.

“Drinking without me, Sixer?” a familiar, attractive voice purrs directly behind you, causing a full-body shiver to swiftly wrack your frame.

You quickly conceal your initial reaction and whip around in your barstool with faux irritation. “Don’t do that, Yes Man!”

The large Securitron now directly in front of you has on a sheepish grin, towering over you and yet looking so innocent. “I’m sorry (Y/N), I really didn’t mean to scare you too bad. It’s just pretty tempting when you have full control of a casino and you see an opportunity! Plus, you seemed pretty lost in thought there.” The low lights slowly come back on at his invisible command.

“That assertiveness update has made you a real pain to me, y’know, your best friend in the whole Mojave!” You cross your arms and try to keep up your grumpy bit, but the involuntary grin on your face gives your true feelings away. He’s just too cute to actually be mad at, and you can’t blame him for using his newfound assertiveness to pull the occasional prank on you. If anything, it endears you to him even more to finally be able to see his playful, uninhibited personality. Before he’d self-updated, he’d had to grit his teeth and smile through your (occasional) poor decisions more than once, and you could only imagine it was torture. Your assumptions were reinforced when he completely tore you a new one right after his update when you suggested taming Deathclaws to help guard the Strip. You’d only meant that one as a joke (mostly), but you had simply sat there and let him rip your idea to shreds in stunned silence when it happened. With all that pent-up aggression, he seemed to have needed it. Besides, it was kinda helpful to have someone so grounded to reign in your…out-of-the-box ideas.

“Me, a pain? Aw, and I thought you were the big, bad Courier who ruled all of New Vegas with me? I guess I must be mistaken, since someone like that couldn’t possibly be this ruffled by some light ribbing.” His cheeky, cooing sarcasm and lidded eyes were gonna be the death of you one day, you knew it. Getting a fully animated face was one of his newer updates, and it made communication that much easier for him, but it simultaneously made holding conversations while looking at his adorable expressions that much harder for you. All he had to do now was flash you a lopsided grin and you would conveniently lose your entire train of thought.

You scrunch up your nose. “Watch out bud, I’m starting to feel a mysterious headache coming on. Top right side of my forehead, specifically.”

“I am never gonna live that one down, am I?”

You let out a snicker at his quick response. When you look back up, it’s with an unmistakably affectionate gaze. “I missed you, Yes Man.”

“I-“ You seem to catch him off-guard with that one after the back-and-forth teasing, as his screen display fills up with a simulated grey blush and his eyes dart away from your form. He straightens up from where he had been relaxing against the side of the bar, coming to a rest at his full height and with a shy smile on his face. “Oh gosh, you know I missed you too, Sixer. It’s lonely out there, rolling through miles of desert shrubbery by yourself. But hey, I can listen to the radio tunes while I think about New Vegas. And us.” He pauses briefly after adding that last bit, but resumes before you can interject. “I think I’m finally starting to get to a point where I can feel comfortable relaxing with you as a co-ruler of New Vegas. I’m very good at imagining every way things can go wrong, but it feels like I’ve reinforced our position with heavy steel at this point. It makes me really proud to think about!”

“I’m so glad to hear that, Yes Man!” You hop up from your barstool cheerily, standing in front of his chassis and only just coming up to the middle of his screen, eyes level with the bottom of it. Don’t think about how tall and powerful and imposing he is next to you. Don’t think about how he could just pick you up and do whatever he wanted to you with his big, strong robot arms. Don’t think about how you would never stop him in a million years and you’re thinking about it STOP STOP STOP. “…I, er, hope you can finally get to actually enjoy ruling New Vegas now. Not that there’s even too much to do! But it does come with its perks, and a wonderful sense of calm to boot.”

He cocks his head at this, which ends up just slightly rotating his entire upper half since he’s so rectangular. “Oh, really? What kind of perks have you been enjoying here on the Strip while I travel day and night through the desert to secure our power?”

You stick out your tongue at him like a child, causing him to giggle adorably. “Oh come on, you act like I haven’t been going out on missions too!” you huff indignantly. “I just know balance, unlike you, Mr. Workaholic.”

“Hey, I’m a planner! It’s a good quality, or so I’ve heard. Anyway, you were telling me about the perks?” He’s not gonna drop that one. You distantly wonder why, but can’t seem to come up with a satisfying answer.

“Well…since all of the major casinos answer to us, I’ve definitely gotten preferential treatment there. Like, the other day, I was winning so many caps at the Gomorrah Blackjack table, I would’ve totally been kicked out before! But the dealer just had to grit his teeth and offer me another drink. I eventually stopped because I didn’t wanna completely clean the Omertas out, but it was hilarious to see how far they let me go. Little stuff like that, I’ve noticed. Not to mention plenty of people trying to buy you drinks and chat you up everywhere you go. The allure of power, I guess.”

Yes Man has been uncharacteristically quiet and reserved as you were saying all of this, especially near the end, and it’s starting to freak you out a little bit. Not his usual quiet attentive listening, but staring off behind you, looking detached and almost…in turmoil? That didn’t seem right. “I mean, I know those perks probably don’t make a big difference to a Securitron like you,” you say, trying to subtly pinpoint the issue. “But maybe you could see if you could entice a bot maintenance expert into setting up shop on the Strip or Freeside? With all of the Securitrons we have now, it wouldn’t hurt. I know there’s definitely experts like that out there looking for work.” His face and body language remained static. You’re really getting worried that you’ve offended him somehow. Yes Man doesn’t have thin skin by any means, but his assertiveness now allows him to show his true feelings, and on more than one occasion, he’s had a sour expression on his face without even realizing. His programming used to monitor displays of negative emotions automatically, so he’s still getting used to having to manually choose to politely navigate scenarios if he so wishes.

Finally, he speaks up, still not meeting your gaze. “Did you…do anything else at Gomorrah?”

Your eyes widen in realization. This bot was not asking you for a play-by-play of your time at the sex casino. “Uh…I had a few drinks, played some slots? Nothing too wild.” You couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out where Yes Man was going with this.

He nods slowly, facial expression unmoving. “So…you don’t use their other services?” Ok, so he’s going there.

“Heh, uh, no, I don’t…”

“Not that I mean to pry or anything!” He finally turns back towards you, clicking his claws together nervously with a shy expression on his face. “I mean, I just know that when you first came to The Tops, well, you did kinda immediately have sex with the man who shot you in the head not even two weeks prior. It doesn’t quite make sense to me, but hey, what do I know about that sort of thing? But now that Benny’s out of the picture, I guess I was just curious if you…kept that sort of fast and loose activity up. With anyone.”

Your legs feel locked and immovable. You’re somewhere between a dream and a nightmare, what with Yes Man asking you such personal questions about your sex life. Before answering, you make sure to take a moment to compose yourself and reel in your fantasies before they run too wild. He’s probably just asking because he’s concerned about me. Just like Arcade chewing me out for sleeping with Benny like a moron. I could get stabbed in the back if I were to carelessly sleep around the Strip, so it makes sense that he’d wanna look out for me. He’s kind and pragmatic like that.

“If you’re asking me if I’m seeing anyone right now, I’m not. Casually or seriously. Benny was, ah- well, a fluke. I don’t usually do things like that, and I’m not dumb enough to have sex with just anyone that comes into New Vegas now that I’m one of its rulers. I only really trust you and my other close friends, but I feel totally platonically towards all of them anyways.”

“…And what about me?”

“I, uh, er- huh?”

Now it was your turn to be fully caught off-guard. Your head had whipped around at light speed to fully look at Yes Man, your eyes wide as discs as they scan his expression for clues. All you see are the nervous but determined eyes that you’ve come to feel so warmly towards.

“You said you feel platonically towards your companions. What do you feel when you look at me, Sixer?” Yes Man’s voice comes out almost a whisper, a far cry from his loud, chipper usual voice. Despite his current shy demeanor and soft voice, it seems as though Yes Man’s assertiveness upgrade also gave him the courage to push on with the subject, instead of quickly backpedaling like he might’ve done in the past.

His earnest eyes feel as though they’re painfully boring into your own as his words set into your brain fully. Your head was swimming as it tried to process the fact that Yes Man was very directly asking you if you liked him platonically or…not. This is what I get for pushing away thoughts of being with Yes Man. He’s literally asking me if I want to be with him romantically, and I have absolutely nothing prepared in my head to say about the idea. Damned if I had, damned if I hadn’t. This must be some sort of ironic punishment from the universe. You swallow the dryness in your throat and bring your hand gently up to his warm screen. You make the split-second decision to just speak kindly and platonically from the heart towards your beloved friend, say something assure him that you care about him just the same as your other companions.

“The truth is, I’ve been in love with you for a long time now, Yes Man. More than platonically. You’re the most important person in the world to me by far.” Awesome. That is not what I was supposed to say at all. Please tell me I did not just tell him that out loud with my voice and mouth.

By the look on Yes Man’s face, you did in fact say that out loud, and you also did not give him the answer that he was expecting. His face was looking at you slightly slack-jawed, with the biggest, roundest eyes you’d ever seen him make. From your personal island of extreme embarrassment, you send out a prayer that the emotion currently on his face is positive surprise and not delayed disgusted shock. Those emotions tend to look similar in their early stages. Your hand remains frozen in place, cupping his screen. You’re incapable of moving it at this point, but he hasn’t shaken it away yet, which you take as your one possible positive sign. Or he’s just in shock. That’s also possible.

“I…hm. Well…well, that was not what I thought you would say.” RED ALERT. RED ALERT. THAT DOES NOT SOUND LIKE THE START OF A LOVE CONFESSION. THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA. GO HOLE UP IN AN VAULT FOR ETERNITY WHILE YOU STILL CAN.

Before he can continue, you pull your hand away and quickly squeak out your own interjection with a voice crack. “Actually, forget about it! Sorry, I must be talking silly from this drink. Let’s just forget I ever said anythi-“

“(Y/N).”

The sternness in Yes Man’s voice is jarring enough to pull you back into the moment. He had never spoken to you in that tone before, and to so roughly say your own name in it…he has your full attention and he knows it.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to take back anything,” he soothes softly, gaze softening. “You can say how you feel. I would never think lesser of you for it.” He lifts one of his robotic claws to cup your cheek, mirroring your moments from moments before. “Do you really love me like that, Sixer?”

It’s now or never. You could deny your true feelings to the death and return to a life of imagining Yes Man’s arms wrapped around you at night, or you could take the plunge and see where the two of you end up.

“I do,” you whisper. Down the rabbit hole I go.

“W-wow.” His entire frame seems to shake slightly at this revelation. “No one has ever said that to me before.”

“Well, I didn’t think Benny would be talking to you like that.” Your ability to joke at a time like this somehow takes you both by surprise simultaneously, and the two of you burst into shaky laughter at the absurdity of your current situation together. It’s sweet and cathartic to laugh and lean into each other after the thick tension that had been permeating the air just moments before. This is how you enjoy being with Yes Man.

“Ok, tell me the truth- do you only have feelings for me because I orchestrated your attempted murder? Be honest, because this seems to be turning into a recurring theme for you.”

You feel your face burn red hot at his ability to make fun of you so accurately at any time. “It is NOT!”

“Are you sure? Dangerous men seem to get you hot under the collar, Sixer. No shame in it, of course. It’s just kind of cute.”

The adorable shit-eating grin that is currently spreading across his face is not helping your blushing situation. He can get you flustered with just a single look, and that’s on days where you didn’t suddenly confess your undying love to him.

“You’d better stop teasing me! I just opened up my heart to you, jerk.” Your threats don’t hold much weight when you have one hand covering your mouth and cheeks in a pitiful attempt to hide the blush and embarrassed expression that are beginning to envelop your entire face.

Yes Man lets out a sharp laugh at your obvious predicament, and then seems to be struck with an idea that makes him look quite proud of himself. He leans down towards you, inches from your face.

“Why don’t you see if you can make me, Sixer?”

That was it. That was your last straw. He was getting too cocky for his own good, and you’re determined to knock him down a peg and make him feel as flustered as you are right now (not to mention, seeing Yes Man being so directly cocky and teasing you like this was getting you more hot and bothered by the second). You’d show him.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you push yourself against his chassis and grab both sides of his boxy face roughly. With how close you are, you’re rewarded with a great view of his dominant expression immediately changing to one of wide-eyed surprise as you press your lips to his screen, right where his animated mouth is. You close your eyes after making contact, but hear a reassuring soft groan from Yes Man as you continue to softly kiss him. It feels wholly different from kissing a human, but still very pleasant. His screen is warm and gently shocks your lips at one point, causing you to make a slight squeak yourself. Not wanting to push him, you draw back after a moment and open your eyes to see the most beautiful sight that your eyes have ever been graced with.

Yes Man is leaning back against the bar, eyes half-lidded in love and lips slightly parted, as though you really had just been traditionally locking lips with him. His lidded gaze fixed directly on you is penetrating, and you feel something stir deep inside of you at the intensity of it. He’s so unbearably lovely, and he looks to be thinking the exact same of you.

“I’ve wanted to do that to you for a really long time,” you admit sheepishly, still catching your breath. You move back, allowing room for Yes Man to stop leaning against the bar, but he doesn’t seem capable of moving at this moment. “All joking aside, the reason I fell in love with you is that I got to know you and learned that you’re a good, charming, kind person. You’ve had to deal with some of the most insufferable people in the Mojave, but you still found a way to trust and open up to me. Now that you’ve become more assertive, I get to work with you as a fully equal partner and see what you’re like when you only have yourself to answer to. You’re smart, really funny, a fantastic strategist, a great listener, and you genuinely care for me even when I’m being stupid. You don’t need me and have the ability to rule New Vegas on your own if you felt like it, but I’ve never once been worried that you would drop me.”

“Hey, I do need you,” he reassures you, finally bringing himself fully upright and moving in to grip your shoulders lovingly. “Besides, what’s the point of ruling New Vegas if you don’t have someone to share it with?”

Your eyes practically sparkle as you look into his. “So…does that mean you really do feel the same way about me, then?”

“Oh, (Y/N)…how could I not fall in love with you?” He presses what you assume is a kiss to your forehead. “I mean, I didn’t realize that’s what it was at first. Like you said, I really can’t stand most of the humans I’ve had to meet out here. But you’ve been different from the beginning. I was so used to Benny, who treated me like an exploitable tool, not as a person. But from the moment I met you, you spoke to me differently. You listened to what I had to say, you supported me when I said I planned to upgrade myself to be more assertive, despite the fact that you would be losing a blindly obedient henchman. It didn’t matter to you, in fact, you were excited for me to become my own person. I was never a tool to you, ruling New Vegas was always a two-person job in your eyes. And you wanted the real me to rule with you. It was so impactful, I had to convince myself that you weren’t somehow getting ready to trick and betray me! Just how my silly mind works, I guess. Supporting me like that through my change, that was the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me. And to this day, you’ve only been upstaging your own kindness. You really are my best friend in the world, Sixer, and…I’m in love with you too.”

Oh, you should’ve put a fainting couch in this lounge because you’re about to swoon. Never in your life would you have expected to get such an earnest love confession from Yes Man. And who’d have thought he’d have such a way with words? You wrap your arms around him wordlessly, tears threatening to spill over from an overabundance of emotion. Your arms can’t fully wrap around his wide body, but you’re still able to hold on tightly and bury your face into his chassis. You have a moment where you berate your past self for ever believing that robots were cold and lifeless, because right now, Yes Man is warm as a gentle sunbeam through the window on a cool day and more full of life than anyone you’ve ever met. After a moment of holding each other in silence, you finally speak up.

“I didn’t know robots could be so sappy,” you choke out, still overwhelmed.

Yes Man chuckles warmly at your usual silliness. “Only this robot, darling.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Oh, and on top of all of those sweet emotional reasons for loving you, I also find you incredibly attractive! So you’ve really excelled in all possible fields here by my parameters. Congratulations!”

“Oh, I honestly wasn’t sure if you were able to feel physical attraction, but I’m glad to hear it!”

Yes Man cocks an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten who originally programmed me? I can feel every kind of attraction. Strongly. Sometimes distractingly so.”

“Am I to assume that includes…sexual?” Might as well keep digging myself deeper with how my luck is going today.

“Distractingly so,” Yes Man repeats at a growl, ever so slightly tightening his affectionate grip on you. Oh boy.

“Huh.” You swallow. “Maybe you can show me how that works sometime. Since we’re both on the same page now. If you wanted to, that is.”

“Heh!” Yes Man’s blushy grin returns, then he pauses briefly, as if thinking. When he looks back up, he has a more concentrated look in his eye. “Well…I could always show you now. If you wanted.” He’s speaking again in that newly unlocked, low, almost sensual vocal register, which has already proven to do things to you without much effort on his part. You’re simultaneously worried and ecstatic to see what he could do to you if he actually started saying filthy things in that tone of voice. You accidentally spend so long getting lost in his sexy voice that you almost forget to check yes on his invitation to have sex.

“Well, if you’re ready to do it now, there’s nothing I’d love more. But it’s totally up to you, I don’t want you to ever feel pressured.” You know in your mind that Yes Man has the power to say no to anything ever since his update and he hasn’t been afraid to use it so far, but you still err on the side of caution when it comes to reminding him that he always has full autonomy, especially in a situation like this. You want this, but you want him to truly want it more.

At first, he looks almost taken aback in gentle surprise at your consideration, but immediately reverts to a sly smile. “Heh, good answer, Sixer. I’d love nothing more.” His voice shifts from deep and low to become a bit faster, like he can’t fully contain his feelings of excitement. “Boy, I can’t wait to show you what upgrades I’ve made. I was thinking of you when I did it, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually get to use it with you. On you. Whatever.”

You grin at his words, feeling your own excitement growing as well. “Oh, so not all of those mechanical upgrades you got were to reinforce our power over the Strip?” The two of you begin slowly heading to the lounge area of the bar level, closer to the windows and full of more open space.

Yes Man chuckles softly. “Well, most of them were! But I’m allowed a bit of…self-indulgence. Sometimes.” He looks at you hungrily again, his eyes moving up and down your body. You do wish you’d dressed better for this unexpected occasion, but you’re grateful that you at least got cleaned up well after today’s mission. Yes Man doesn’t seem to notice your insecurities about being underdressed though, eyeing you up like you’re one of those pre-war poster stars in their sexy little getups. His eyes trained so closely on your form are starting to make you feel funny again.

“You’re staring.” Your breath catches in your throat as you say it, daring him to do anything. You’re not even sure what.

“Sorry, is it too much?” Yes Man questions meekly, looking a little embarrassed for being called out, but not very sorry.

“No, it’s just…intense. I’ve always imagined you looking at me like that, but now that it’s happening, it’s like staring at the sun.” You never want to look at anything else again.

“I see. I wonder what else you’ve imagined me doing to you?” He cocks an animated brow at you, finding his boldness again now that he knows you’re comfortable. “Because if you’re anything like me, you’ve put a good amount of hours into those fantasies. I’ve wondered what fucking a human might feel like, how it would be to hold down your smaller, soft body. How we’d both be warm, but in different ways. I wanted to know, so bad. I wanted to know what it would be like to fuck you in particular. It’s been really eating me up inside, Sixer.”

“O-oh…” Hearing those words out of Yes Man’s mouth is gonna kill you, you’re sure of it. You feel yourself starting to shake with anticipation a bit. “Y-yeah, I’ve wondered the same thing. About Securitrons though, obviously, not humans. You, in particular. I wanna see the faces you make when you fuck me. And the nasty things you might say to me while you do it. I want you to make me feel small and weak, but in like, a good, sexy way. I like the idea of you having the power, at least the first time.” You lean in to give him another, briefer kiss on his screen, making him close his eyes and laugh lightly.

“Wow, I never took you as the type to hand your lover the reins so fast, heh. Not that I’m complaining.”

“That’s because I’m not, really. You’re the only one who’s brought this side out of me before, Yes Man. There’s no one else in the Wasteland that I’d feel completely safe giving all of the power to in sex. I trust you with all of me.” It felt so natural to heap all of this praise on him. You had already praised him plenty before in platonic settings, and you’d never lied to him. He deserved to feel in control, and special. After all his time spent being under the begrudging control of others, it seemed that letting him take the wheel during sex just felt right to you for your first time. There could always be time to shake things up later if you so wished.

“O-oh, I love you, (Y/N),” Yes Man stutters, looking as though he’s already seeing stars. Eyes practically sparking, he brings his arms roughly but lovingly around your body in a tight embrace. You hear his cooling fans kick on and giggle.

“Hm, feeling warm?”

“Mmph, not as warm as I’m gonna be making you feel.”

With those words, you hear a sound like air inside of a machine decompressing from his body. You draw your eyes downward, to the area below his chassis but above his wheel attachment. There, you see the source of the sound: a covering hatch of some sort has popped open, revealing a makeshift dick. It doesn’t look poorly made at all, and resembles the human equivalent pretty well, at least visually. Physically, you could tell that this would be a fully different experience. I am gonna be so sore tomorrow. Totally worth it, though.

Yes Man shifts uneasily. “Um, do you like it? I hope it’ll work for you, that is to say, I figured this setup would appeal to you and work best, and Mick and Ralph gave me the parts to assemble and program it to pleasure me too, it’s fully sanitized, made for comfort, and it has lots of features I can add if you-“ Yes Man halts his rambling to gasp as you begin running a finger down his cock, from tip to base. “Mmph…” He squirms under your touch as you explore his new attachment, as if committing the entire thing to your memory. It’s mostly white and silver and soft to the touch but holds firm with pressure, like silicone or something similar. It’s sizable, but not unreasonably so. It was just like Yes Man to pick out a dick by balancing his desire to please you with his natural pragmatism. It really suited him in every way. “W-well, I’m glad you seem to be enjoying yourself down there.” Yes Man’s voice, cut off by small whimpers, swiftly pulls you out of your dick-exploring mental rabbit hole. You hadn’t even realized how close your face had gotten to it as you’d run your fingers along its length.

“Sorry, it’s just…a great cock. Awesome work. For real.”

Yes Man manages to bark out a laugh through his barrage of soft moans. “The things you say never fail to hit me like a bus, but thank you.”

“Well, I live to serve.”

“Do you now?” Yes Man’s eyes seem to light up at this turn of phrase. “Why don’t you start by putting that pretty mouth to work on me then, Sixer? Go on.” He lightly thrusts his dick closer to your face as if to punctuate his command (request?).

You fully drop to your knees without another thought. “Yeah, I think I can do that.” Your voice comes out more wobbly than you’d prefer this early in the game, but you don’t have much more time to dwell on this before you’ve taken Yes Man’s cock into your mouth. You’re determined to give this bot the best and presumably first blowjob of his life, so you take it slow at the beginning. You swirl your tongue over the tip, then begin to lick slow and deliberate stripes up the sides of his length. It tastes like clean metal, despite being much more malleable in texture. It twitches in response to your tongue, a neat feature that you hadn’t expected it to have.

“Ahh…y-yeah, (Y/N), ough, just like that…oh jeez…” You’ve barely begun and Yes Man is already moaning your praises. He grabs at your hair with his big Securitron claws, purposefully gentle but also with a bit of pull to them. The poor guy was getting head and had no leverage at all, causing him to simply grip your hair tighter and rock his hips gently as you continued your slow tongue onslaught.

After you’ve decided he’s had enough, you try to bite the bullet and take his whole cock in your mouth. It’ll be a miracle if I can fit all of him in my mouth at once. Let’s start praying. You quickly bury your thumbs into your closed fists to try and turn off your gag reflex. You heard from a friend that this worked once, and you’re willing to try anything right now if it leads to you successfully deepthroating this charming robot. You bob up and down on his dick, challenging yourself to go a bit further down each time. Through your heavy concentration, you can tell that Yes Man is at least enjoying himself through the increased volume of his moans. He’s practically whining incoherent praise as you continue to push further down with each lift and fall of your head, and you’re getting most of him in your mouth with this method. Deciding to go for the gold, you hollow your cheeks and push your nose all the way down until his entire dick is within your mouth, feeling it ever-so-slightly touch the back of your throat and making you pop off of his length as you gag around him. So much for the thumb trick.

“Oh, Sixer, you did amazing. That was…wow. I’ve never felt anything like it. You really know what you’re doing, huh?” Yes Man’s strained voice makes you look up at him for the first time since you began sucking his cock. His pupils are so big as he looks down at you, face flushed with grayscale color and animated teeth gritted in overwhelming pleasure, heat coming off of him in waves as his body tries to ventilate. You’re grateful that he seemed to like your blowjob so much, it was far from perfect but he didn’t seem to notice at all. And pleasing him so much was starting to get you wet too, you noticed hazily.

“Glad you enjoyed, Yes Man. But I’m guessing you wanna wait to cum until you’re inside of me?” As you say this, his face somehow flushes even more than before, the same face he would always give you when you’d do something impulsive at a meeting with the Three Families of the Strip that you two hadn’t discussed beforehand. Shocked and somewhat scolding, but in a way that betrayed how endeared to you he had become. Looks like I hit the nail on the head there.

“Y-yeah, you read my mind, (Y/N). But c’mere, I wanna see you first. You were so good and selfless to me, after all…”

“Well I-“ Before you can fully respond, he’s picking you up with his claws by the waist as if you weigh nothing. He lifts your previously-crouched form until you’re right in front of him, feet dangling ever so slightly off the ground. Normally, you would look up at his face just a bit when standing right next to him, but right now, he’s holding you perfectly at his eye level and giving you a knowing smirk, like he knows something you don’t. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s making you insanely horny right now, you would describe him as “infuriatingly overconfident.”

“Wow, you sure look pretty trapped in the air like this. But I bet you’d look even better with less of these pesky clothes on!” He sets your feet on the ground so he can remove one of his claws to rub at the material of your top, the other claw resting reassuringly on your hip. “Say, you aren’t attached to this shirt, are you?” You shake your head no quickly, and Yes Man reacts immediately by tearing through the fabric with one fell swoop of his claw. You’re surprised with the gentleness in which it falls off of you, now in shreds on the floor. He looks up at your face with a glint in his eye. “Well, now it’s not attached to you, either.”

You groan out loud. “You’re one to make fun of me for badly-timed jokes.” You meant for this phrase to come across as playfully snarky, but your voice warbles as the cool air hits your chest and you become fully aware of how exposed you are. Yes Man is a Securitron who doesn’t wear clothes, so the only moment of bashfulness in regards to you seeing him “naked” was when his dick first appeared out of its casing. For you, however, it seems that Yes Man wouldn’t be content unless he unwraps all of you bit by bit like a Christmas present, and he’s in no rush at all. You silently curse and thank him for being such a gentleman in bed.

Yes Man leans in inquisitively, raking over your exposed torso with his eyes as if he’s committing it to his memory banks. Actually, he really might be doing that. After a moment of irreverent silence, he reaches a claw forward to stroke a particularly big scar on your chest, tracing it from start to finish. You shiver under his feather-light touch, almost ticklish with how careful he’s being.

“Oh, Sixer…you’re so beautiful. Seeing you here and now is better than anything I could’ve ever imagined.” You whimper at his praise, every word causing you to heat up even more, making you hardly notice the cool air anymore. “Hang on, I wanna try something. Let me know if you don’t like it, ok?” With that, he hoists you up so that you’re sitting on a medium-height center table, but only on the very edge. To keep you from sliding forwards and off of the table, Yes Man puts his entire body as a barricade in front of you, leaving you in the compromising position of sitting precariously on the edge of the table with Yes Man’s erect cock inches away from your own clothed crotch. As if to add to your predicament, he uses one claw to ensnare both of your wrists and hold your arms up above your head, stretching your torso out and leaving no way to hide or involuntarily scrunch up at his incoming touches. He smiles at his handiwork, and probably the view too. “Well? Comfortable?”

“Y-yeah, feels amazing…”

“Good. And hey, if I say or do something you don’t like, I want you to tell me right away. You made me happy, now I wanna make you happy. Green, yellow, red safeword system work for you?” His eyes meet yours without hesitation to show his concern for you, and the validity of his willingness to please you of his own accord.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds great.” Damn, looks like he really has done his research. Wonder what else he’s picked up from his learning.

Yes Man grins mischievously. “Fantastic. Now then, back to playing with your cute little trapped body. Where was I?”

“Well, last I remember, you-mm!” You cut yourself off with a whimper as his free claw grazes your nipple, cool metal against your hot skin. “Aah, hey, be careful, those are sensitive…”

Yes Man snorts at your flustered face. “Yeah, I know. I read that this can be a good way to…warm a human up. How about it? Warm yet?” As if to punctuate his question, he gently pinches your other nipple with his claw, careful to apply just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. Delightfully unable to squirm away, your body elects to arch your back and moan instead. As soon as it comes out, you snap your jaw shut a bit too late to muffle the embarrassing sound. You immediately see Yes Man washed over with a visible mix of giddiness and lust at your strong reaction, so happy to be pleasing you and so needy himself. “Wow, sounds like my reading material was right. You really seem to be enjoying yourself. Well, let’s see what other sounds I can get you to make just from this.” He’s got your number now. With you still helpless in his grasp, he continues his movements, switching around his tactics to keep an air of unpredictability as he alternates between ghosting his claws across your chest and stomach, stroking your nipples, and surprising you with a rougher tug or twist every so often. Your body twitches and tries to involuntarily scrunch up against his light touches, but you quickly find that you truly are trapped in place for him to play with as he pleases. Between how wonderfully stuck you are in his strong robotic restraints and how good his touches feel, you’re in heaven. If Yes Man wants to hear what sounds you can make, you’ll give him enough to fill up his audio logs for a month.

“Mm, ah, Yes Man, please!” Every time his claw flicks over your nipples, it sends electric shocks of arousal down towards your pussy. If you weren’t wet before, you definitely are now. In a desperate search for friction, you move the only way you can and grind your clothed pussy against the only thing in your vicinity, his dick, causing the Securitron to shudder. His face moves quickly between shock, then lust, and then visibly switches gears to a new look entirely, one that’s much darker and almost experimental.

“Hmm. You…are impatient. Y’know, Six, I try to take my time pleasuring you, and you just grind up against me like a little whore. You gotta agree, that’s a bit pathetic, huh?” At his words alone, you let out another moan and grind against him again. You can’t decide which is better, Yes Man praising you or Yes Man degrading you. They both sound so good in his voice, so earnest and turned on that it doubles the obscenity of his words, and your body easily gives away how much it affects you. He lets a small triumphant smile slip through his disciplinary persona as he sees that his risky new approach paid off, then quickly shakes it off. “Golly, you’ve got such little self-control that you’ll just dry hump me for even a fraction of stimulation? You must be even more of a needy slut than I thought.” Now these are some words and phrases that could not have been spoken to you without that assertiveness upgrade, aka the best thing that’s ever happened to either of you as far as you’re concerned right now.

“I-I’m a slut for you, Yes Man.” You look up at him from the table with lidded eyes, hoping your provocative words and body language get the idea across that he needs to take off your pants right this second or you may just die.

Yes Man’s eyes are the size of saucers as his face contorts at your words as though he were in pain. “Sixer, if you say things like that, I’m gonna cum right here and now before we’ve even really gotten started.” His voice has an almost pleading tone to it; he’s being genuine, and it’s nice to know that you still have some power over him with just your words here. Maybe next time he’d think to gag you. Message received, he releases your arms and shimmies your pants and underwear off in a single pull, tossing them aside carelessly.

Now fully naked, you shiver under Yes Man’s gaze as he admires your newly-exposed bottom half, claw between your knees so that your legs are spread out fairly wide apart, leaving nothing to the imagination anymore. Strangely enough, you feel too aroused to really feel any ounce of self-consciousness, Yes Man’s kind praises shifting into teasing reprimands replaying in your head. It was such a quick switch that your head was practically spinning in the best way. In the beginning, a piece of you had been slightly worried that he’d feel awkward or not know what to do as the one in control, but that worry was hardly a memory anymore at this point. Yes Man was taking to his role naturally and loving every second of it, and so were you.

Not one to keep you waiting no matter how mean he played at being, Yes Man begins slowly stroking your hips and inner thigh, coaxing you to lay down across the table. “Alright, now be honest, how many times have you thought about calling yourself my whore like that while I fucked you?” One of his claws barely ghosts over your pussy, causing you to buck up in search of pressure that isn’t there to meet you. “I bet you touched yourself up in your penthouse and called out my name as you came. It’s a shock I never heard you, considering how loud and shameless you are.”

“F-fuck…” Your head drops down to lay back on the table, unable to look at the robot between your legs. His words alone were almost enough to get you off. You had, in fact, done exactly what he was saying before, and him calling you out on it causes your skin to prickle with horny embarrassment.

Yes Man chuckles from deep back in his voice box, and continues drawing teasing circles on your inner thighs as he speaks. “Hmm, I’ll take that as a yes, then. But y’know what? It’s ok, because I would constantly imagine fucking you, too. ‘Course, I couldn’t exactly touch myself back when I first started having these thoughts, so you left me a pretty sexually frustrated mess with no outlet whenever you did something attractive. Which you do a lot, by the way. It’s reeeally distracting.” He punctuates this by pressing his wandering claw right against your naked clit, causing you to gasp at the sudden pressure. “But things are different now, hm? Now we both get to feel good with each other. And watching you squirm is gonna make me feel soooo good…” With that, he begins moving his claw in small, light circles around your clit. His large Securitron claw certainly makes for a unique feeling, but he’s being so gentle and methodical that it’s a good kind of unique.

“Oh, Yes Man, y-yeah, yes…” You roll your hips in times with his touches, chasing the immensely pleasurable feeling that he’s so kindly giving to you and then some.

“H-heh, feels kinda great to have to crying out for me like this. It’s nice to be needed so badly, and by someone as lovely as you.” He’s looking at you so affectionately that there may as well be tiny hearts in his eyes, almost flustered more at seeing you receive pleasure than receiving it himself. “Hey, I’m gonna try something, so tell me if it’s too uncomfortable, ok?”

“Ok,” you whisper, barely a breath in your throat left to make words with. At this, he removes his claw from your clit and instead angles it at your entrance, cautiously pushing one big finger (claw?) into you. You bury your face in your hands and pant at the realization that this Securitron has his heart set on fingering you, even if he had to get creative to do it. It certainly wasn’t bad, but just one section of his claw was the equivalent of putting 2-3 human fingers in there, so it was quite a surprise to say the least. He moves it farther into you, and you realize that he was clever enough to angle it so that when he flexes his claw, the tip of it directly hits your G-spot just as it would if a human did the come-hither motion on you. As he hits that sensitive spot, you let out a shaky moan and your hips snap up towards the sensation of their own accord like a person possessed.

“Ah, by all means, I’d say that was a success. Going off just your reaction, at least.” Yes Man grins and continues to repeat the same motion that got him such a big reaction, making your head spin. “Oh gosh, you’re so pretty like this. Every moment, you outdo yourself without even trying and make me want you even more. O-oh, you drive me crazy, (Y/N).” Little animated sweat beads are gathering on his face as he rambles on, not letting up on his movements. “Heh, it’s times like this that really make you wish you had a tongue. ‘Course, if I did, I may not even end up fucking you. I’d be too wrapped up in tasting you to even remember myself, heh. I bet you taste so sweet dripping for me like this, I’d have to live between your legs. You’d never get me outta there.”

“Mm, I’d never try to…” You’re surprised that you’re even able to muster these words, considering how absolutely lost in the sauce you are right now. If someone broke into the Lucky 38 right now, they could probably steal everything in this room and you wouldn’t even notice until they tried to take the table you were laying on. You could feel pressure building in your lower stomach, causing your eyes to flutter closed and your upper body to stiffen. All at once, the pleasure is gone as Yes Man’s claw is abruptly removed from your pussy. Your eyes shoot open to investigate why he’s stopped, and you guess that your current expression must be very sad and pleading, as it causes Yes Man to chuckle darkly.

“Awww, Sixer, don’t look at me like that. You and I both know you were getting a bit too close there.” He grins, turning his attention to his now-drenched claw. He opens and closes them to spread out your wetness, paying attention to how it stretches and sticks to him. “Perks of being a robot, I am very…perceptive.” As he opens his claw, a line of your wetness interconnects his individual fingers, causing him to bite his animated lip to hold back a groan. “See, I never realized this part of you could be so…enticing. Nobody ever mentioned this. It’s kinda entrancing to have such a mess of you on my claws.”

You giggle, face red hot. “I could say the same for you, you seem to be leaking a bit.”

Instinctively, Yes Man looks down swiftly at this comment, only to realize that the part of him leaking is the tip of his dick, swollen and begging for attention. Because of his placement, it had spilled out onto your thigh, coating you with whatever Yes Man’s upgrade was using as his bodily fluids, clear and sticky and already messy. It seems that getting you off made him all the more insatiable, and it was honestly really hot to see how you affected him.

“Heh, hadn’t even noticed that, to be honest with ya!” He turns his full attention to your face, leaning forward to hang right above you and cupping your cheek with his clean claw. “Permission to fuck you til you can’t remember your own name?” He winks at his own cheeky comment.

You are awash with both arousal and pure fondness for Yes Man, an interesting combination, but not unwelcome. “Permission granted. Permission granted a million times over. Please, please fuck me, Yes Man.”

“Sixer…” You don’t have to tell him twice. In a flash, he had turned his body fully upright and was lining up his cock with your entrance. He glances at you seriously one more time. “Don’t forget, stoplight system. I want you to just enjoy yourself tonight.”

You smile and put a tender hand up to his screen. “Same to you, big guy.”

Affection in his eyes, Yes Man pushes his cock into you, slowly at first as he stretches you out. It’s not an uncomfortably tight fit, but you’re definitely filled well by him. He whimpers above you as he bottoms out, obviously holding back for your sake in the beginning. You shift a bit around his dick, adjusting to the feeling of having him inside you. After a moment, your breathing evens out and you begin rocking your hips against him, showing without words the pace you’d like to start at. Not too fast, you’d build up to that. For now, Yes Man seems to pick up on your silent speed request and takes the reins to begin moving carefully, dragging himself in and out of you at a steady rate.

“Mmph….you feel so so so good around me, Sixer…….fuck, you’re amazing,” Yes Man pants through his steady machinations. “S-so wet just for me…you’re everything I’ve ever fantasized about and more.”

There he goes with the praise again, he is gonna be the death of me. Spurned on by his words, you begin rocking your hips harder against the Securitron, pulling him all the way out before pushing him back in with a forceful squelching sound. The sound of Yes Man fucking you is obscene, which only makes you want it more and more.

“Fuck, Yes Man, I need more, please. Don’t stop, don’t stop…” Your soft moans fill the air every time his cock drags along your G-spot, every thrust bringing you a bit closer to where you had been before. “And don’t stop talking.” The last words were out of your mouth before you’d even realized what you were asking for. Apparently, your subconscious really enjoyed listening to Yes Man’s ramblings.

“Oho, so you like hearing me talk all about how perfect you are? How good your pussy feels? Or do you want me to call you my little whore again? Your call, Sixer.” He looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye, not slowing his thrusting at all as he grills you on your preferences. He probably loves watching you try to form coherent answers as he fucks you senseless. Bit of a cruel streak in this one, but not unwelcome. Maybe this is payback for the times I ignored his advice before he could tell me how foolish I was being. Well, if Yes Man was going to indulge the part of himself that wanted to watch you squirm, far be it from you to protest.

“Any. All. It’s all good, just please. Please keep talking.” Those are the only words you can pick out of your brain at the moment, hips rocking up harder to meet Yes Man’s. The sound of his metal chassis meeting your flesh with every thrust was certainly a new one, and definitely one that you’d be hearing in all of your sexual fantasies from here on out. It was just so unique to the experience of fucking him and him alone, bringing you extra pleasure in how delightfully different sex with Yes Man is compared to other humans.

Yes Man barks out a laugh at your utter inability to form more than basic commands, then does as he’s told. “Mm, it’s easy to talk about you when you’re doing so good for me. You’ve been practically gagging for my cock for weeks, and now here you are getting absolutely ruined and taking it soooo well. I wonder what everyone in New Vegas would think if they knew how desperate their ruler was for my dick. If they knew that their leaders of the Strip were absolutely fucking each other senseless up in their big casino. What would your companions think if they came in and saw me fucking you on the table out in the open like this?”

They probably wouldn’t be very surprised, a distant part of your brain chimes in helpfully. Instead of saying this, you simply whimper in response, his pace speeding up a bit as you do.

“Personally, I-I wouldn’t hate it if all of New Vegas knew you were mine like this. I bet you’d like it if everyone saw the faces I’ve gotten you to make for me, huh? They’re so lovely, they just deserve to be plastered across a billboard. Like this one right now…so needy, so pretty, so perfect…”

“Y-Yes Man…” With your face flushed, lips parted slightly, and chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, you imagine that you probably are making an extremely pornographic expression right now. Of course, you aren’t exactly alone on this, considering that Yes Man is towering over your smaller frame with blown-out pupils and his tongue starting to loll out from how hard he’s working. You could almost swear that you see little hearts in his eyes for real this time, but can’t be certain due to how fast he’s rocking your body. Well he’s one to talk, looking like he’s drunk on my pussy right now. Not that I mind. You’re getting close to the edge again with every thrust, and you can feel your orgasm rising in you, spreading out in tingles across your body as it prepares to overtake you. You close your eyes and practically squeal as you approach the precipice, but suddenly and without warning, you find yourself completely empty and lacking any stimulation at all. You whine desperately, confused as to why everything disappeared all at once, almost incoherent in your horny daze. Blinking, you look up into Yes Man’s intense gaze inches away from your own face. He has a look in his eye again, that look when he’s about to try something new that’s got him really excited, even as he tries to keep his cool.

“Beg for it.” Those three little words send a jolt of painful arousal through your pussy, and you practically wail pitifully in frustration. This damn robot was edging you and now trying to make you beg him for release, and you want to feel indignant but the thought of it was almost as good as actually being fucked. Yes Man’s face breaks out into what can only be described as an evil grin as he watches your face shift through various emotions. “Go on Sixer, beg for me to let you cum. I don’t think you really want to, but go ahead and try to prove me wrong. If you do it nicely, maybe I’ll think about letting you.” A mix of shame and need causes your face to burn hot at his explicit words as you consider your nonexistent options. There was no way out; if you want to cum, you’d better swallow your pride and beg him for it.

“F-fuck, Yes Man…please…please let me cum.” Embarrassment prickles on your skin, the humiliation of having to plead for release causing you arousal that you didn’t know your body would react with. Hey, new kink unlocked.

Yes Man leans upwards away from you, making a big show of looking down at his claws as though they’re much more interesting than the pleading horny mess lying in front of him (though the twitches of his dick give away his true feelings on the matter). “Oh come on now Sixer, I think you can do much better than that! I know you’re not one to beg often based on our time together, but this is me. You can do better for your favorite Securitron in the Mojave, I think. Try again. Unless, of course, you’re alright with me just leaving you here all worked up and with no outlet. Trust me, speaking from experience, it’s a bad time.” He punctuates this with a salacious grin at your predicament. It’s abundantly clear that he is absolutely loving every second of this, devouring your reactions and letting it fuel his mean streak even more.

Mentally stuck in a rut, you let out almost a growl in a mix of frustration and overwhelming lust at this command. He’s right that you can do better, but your stubbornness really doesn’t wanna cooperate on this one. Yes Man looks idly bemused above you, making it clear that he’ll wait as long as he needs for you to really grovel at his feet (wheel?) for your orgasm in earnest. If you weren’t so deeply into this, you’d be slightly shocked at how quickly his penchant for sadism popped up, and from him of all people. With the threat of being left to finish by yourself in the air, you prepare to swallow any self-respect and dignity you may have had left.

“Yes Man, please, I need it so bad, I need you inside me. You’re so big and fill me up so perfectly, you’re the only one who could fuck me this good, I’m begging you, pleasepleaseplease let me cum!” Just the act of begging for such filthy things so desperately is enough to make your hips buck up into the air, searching so hard for any friction. It’s all so much and not nearly enough at the same time, and you pray that your words were enough to convince him.

Yes Man is seems lost in irreverent silence for a moment, then finally responds by roughly grabbing your thighs, his eyes lidded and loving and starstruck in every way. “Good little courier.” Without wasting a moment, he begins pounding into you again at a pace that no human could ever hope to match, holding back nothing, or so you thought. As one last surprise, his dick begins to vibrate within you, sending pulses out through your cunt and up to your clit. You practically scream in pleasure, grabbing onto his back with nails on metal, searching for any sort of grip on him as he ruthlessly fucks you.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to choke out, sweat making your hair begin to stick to your head from exertion.

“M-me too…” Yes Man’s voice begins glitching out, choppy and mechanical as his animated face looks beyond lost in pleasure. The lights begin flickering in the room, and you distantly remember that Yes Man is connected to the entire power grid of the casinos on the Strip due to one of his upgrades. His thrusts lose their mechanical precision and become erratic, snapping up and down sloppily but still with power as he begins to lose control of himself. But he apparently still has enough control to grab your chin with the claw that’s not bracing himself against the table and turn your face to look right at his. Once again, it’s like looking right into the hot Mojave sun, passionate enough to scald. His eyes are somehow both glazed over in lust and laser-focused on your facial features, looking at you as though you were his one and only. And you are. “Cum for me, darling.”

Fuck. With a sound in between a gasp and a whine, your body pulls you over the edge and sends you crashing into a powerful orgasm that wracks your entire body violently. Your pussy tightens around Yes Man’s cock, spasming in absolute pleasure and lasting for a good little while on its own as he continues to fuck you through it. In the middle of your own ecstasy, Yes Man snaps against you one final time and pushes himself all the way inside you with a glitched-out moan as he reaches his climax as well, releasing his robotic cum inside of you all at once, filling you up completely. At the exact same moment, all of the lights on the floor go out at once, leaving you with only the light of the newly-risen moon from outside. For just a moment, he holds right there, still fully inside of you, panting and shaking and feeling as warm as a heater despite his cooling fans being louder than you’ve ever heard them. The two of you just sit there together and bask in the feeling, for seconds or minutes or hours, you can’t tell anymore. But eventually, he pulls himself out, fluids leaking out of you as he does, and leans up against the table to steady himself. His dick slowly retracts back into its compartment and seals itself up as if it were never there.

He looks down to check on you, eyes full of contentment and concern. “Not to ruin the moment, Sixer, because that was fantastic, but I do think we may have blown the Strip’s power grid.”

Still recovering, you let out a wheeze of a laugh from where you lay still on the table, cunt pulsing with ebbing pleasure. “Well, shit.” Sure enough, you glance out the giant windows and realize why the moon is your only light source: the Strip has gone fully dark. I’m definitely gonna be hearing about this tomorrow.

“Oh, but don’t you worry about it too much, I should be able to reboot it remotely. And hey, if anything, take it as a boost to your ego. I mean, you felt so good at the end there that I nearly force restarted too, heh.” Yes Man blushes and clicks his claws together with a sheepish grin. He has some nerve to act so cutesy just minutes after making me beg for his cock.

You chuckle. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t collapse on top of me right before I came, but that does boost my ego a bit.”

Yes Man’s eyes glimmer. “Aw, I’m sure you could take it. You’ve taken worse, after all.”

Absentmindedly, you wonder whether he’s talking about his dick or the gunshot wound again. Either way, he ain’t wrong. You move to sit up, despite your body screaming at you to just keep ragdolling limply on the furniture.

“Wait, don’t move!” Before you can protest, Yes Man is right in front of you and quickly but gently scoops you up bridal style, encasing your tired body in his big arms. From your new vantage point, you see what he was so concerned about: the part of the table near one of the legs that he’d been gripping to brace himself had completely splintered and now looked just about ready to completely collapse. Yes Man gives you a bashful look, as if thinking he’ll be scolded by you for destroying the furniture with his superhuman strength in the heat of the moment. “Uh, we might need a new table.”

You laugh at the sight, leaning your forehead against his screen. “Ya think so?” You can’t resist giving him a few sweet little kisses all over his face, prompting him to snort and lean into the ruthless barrage. Suddenly, the lights flicker back on above you, as well as outside the window.

“Hey, looks like the power’s all fixed and back online! Well then, shall I…take you upstairs? You look a little tired after that one, not gonna lie to ya.”

“I would love that.” Without another word, Yes Man tightens his grip and whirs the two of you into the now-functional elevator, setting it to take you up to the penthouse where you sleep. Thankfully, it looks like nobody else is in right now to see you naked and looking absolutely fucked out by Yes Man, or question what happened to the power. You’re certain you can come up with a non-suspicious answer to that one by tomorrow, when your critical thinking skills eventually return to your brain.

Yes Man gently places you on top of your bed, carefully brushing some loose hair out of your face with his claw after you’re settled. “Feeling ok, Sixer?” He smiles softly at you from where he stands at your bedside.

“Yeah,” you breathe, meeting his doting gaze. “A bit sore, but I’ll live. Might just need a lil recovery time before we do this again.”

“Again?” Yes Man’s eyes widen, as though he had truly not considered the fact that this would be a repeatable event.

You giggle at his expression, putting your hand up to cup the very edge of his screen, where the smooth surface meets the harder metal of the rest of his face. “Yes Man, there is no way you could fuck me that well and not have me trying to jump your bones as soon as my body will physically allow me to.”

Yes Man’s frame erupts into laughter, unable to contain his full laughs at your words. “Boy, (Y/N), how did I manage to fall in love with such a dweeb? But also like, an alluring dweeb? You are a confusing little human, and God, do I love you, really I do.”

“I love you too, Yes Man.” You turn to press a kiss to the claw that had been resting on your shoulder. “And you love me because I’m the only one who can match your energy in the prestigious field of alluring dweebism, as it’s known professionally.” Your hand reaches up to playfully spin the little circular antenna on his head.

Yes Man snorts at your nonsense. “Hey, don’t spin me. I’m not your top.”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

Once again, his laughter fills the air like an electronic melody. “Well, you got me there.” An uncertain silence falls over the room for a moment, him standing next to your boneless-feeling body on the bed, as if unsure where you want him to be after the change in your dynamic tonight. Before he can question himself, you speak first.

“Hey. Stay with me? I know you probably can’t actually lay on the bed without it breaking, but I’d love it if you stayed by me for a bit. I wanna be close to you.”

Yes Man lets out a soft mechanical sigh, looking so contented and loving that you feel butterflies again. “Of course I will. Anything for you, my darling.” As if to show an act of reassurance, he engages his brake and settles down in his frame, chassis pressed up against the edge of the bed right near your face, claw held comfortingly against your cheek. You never would’ve expected a metal Securitron claw to feel as tender as it did right now, but here you are, wanting nothing more than his robotic touch as you drift off into sleep from exhaustion. Yes Man has your back, now and forever, and not only that, but he loves you more than words can say, and the feeling is mutual. The mix of his protective presence and these thoughts is enough to lull you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

Author’s Notes: benny in hell watching you fuck yes man: ?!?!?! djdjfkd anyways i listened to a lotta hozier while writing this and have no idea if it will appeal to anyone except me. but if you did enjoy then i’m glad to hear it! this was the first fanfic i’ve written in years and also the first smut i’ve ever written and i’m pretty satisfied with how it turned out :D thanks for reading!

#yes man x reader #yes man x courier #yes man #yes man fnv #yes man fallout #fallout new vegas #fnv #reader insert #smut #will courier ever get to see yes man’s ever-growing collection of pre-war smut books? who’s to say #hopefully this is all formatted correctly i’ve never posted fanfic on tumblr #but figured it’d be a good idea to cross-post for those who prefer to read on tumblr #i’m probably just gonna drop my two (2) fics that i’ve written and then run away and disappear for 20 years #so. slay i suppose #my fics

[astudyincontrasts]

Could we get a Viktor drabble where he’s doing that thing teenagers do when they written their name and your name in their journal to see how they sound with your last name?

And getting caught 👀

As you wish, anon. And if Viktor getting caught writing things about reader is your jam, might I suggest A Theory by @gaybybirth which is the fic that dragged me kicking and screaming back into writing on tumblr.

Round and around and around that long finger. How he could twirl chestnut strands so much and not have given himself a permanent little curl or even a tiny bald spot behind his ear was beyond you. As it was he had cowlick after wispy soft cowlick curling errantly in the mess of his hair. It was irritatingly endearing, terribly distracting. Had your own fingers itching every time he started up that bad habit to slap his hand gently aside and and rake your own fingers back down his scalp. Difficult not to think what it would feel like, the silk mess of that hair carded between fingers. To watch him tilt is head back, close those tired amber eyes slowly. Thick lashes dark against pale cheekbones. Let you kiss bruised, tired eyelids softly...

No.

No, thoughts ran away with you far too easily. Not even thoughts - silly fantasies. He was terribly busy, terribly important. Him and Mr. Talis. Busy building the future of Piltover and leashing the power of those terrifyingly unstable hex crystals to allow teleportation across continents, across worlds. And all you could think of was touching that babyfine soft hair that formed a v at the nape of his neck. About the way his voice was always so softly quiet, terribly gentle.

He'd let you hold one, once. A hex crystal. Dropped it into your palm and smiled at how you'd sucked breath in hard and fast as you cradled it like a live bomb. Closed your cupping palms around it with his own.

"Can you feel it?" He asked.

All you could do to swallow, throat sandpaper grit and eyes round saucers. You could feel his fingertips against the outside of your wrists, feel the brush of his thumbs against your own and the warm of his palms to your knuckles. And yes... the shallow pulsing electric vibration of the deadly dangerous crystal you held. Like licking a battery without the copper taste, and with the warning crackle through the whole of your forearms straight to spine.

Lightening in a stone, if not a bottle.

Blue luminescence reflected in gold eyes as he pulled the careful cup of your hands apart and took the stone back. Eyes only for one thing and it surely wasn't for the tech assistant in faded grey and tatty coveralls, constantly smeared in gear grease and always in the background; fixing all the little minor issues the new golden boys of Piltover managed to create with their unlimited intellect and vastly overestimated mechanical expertise.

Sure, they could both design the future, write complex mathematic and arcane problems as foreign to you as Noxian calculus... but ask either to find the actual source of a lack of power in a time train gear network they had designed? Forest for the trees, you supposed. It was fine, you were good with details, with the trees, if this metaphor held.

Details like that hair twirling. Like his shy smile. Like how you'd be under and deep in the guts of a piece of mech and fumbling blindly for a tool only to have him press it into your searching fingers. Never could figure out how he always knew exactly what you were looking for without even having been asked. Nine eighths spanner? In your fingers. Ten quarter allen wrench? Done. The finest pair of needle nose pliers? His fingertips soft against your grease stained palm as he pushed it there in silent passing. Reading your mind.

If only you could read his.

So nice then, that one night, when you’d dragged yourself out from under the guts of their latest prototype, to find him sat there alone, the only other living soul in the lab and shaking an empty pen between twirling the silk licks of his hair.

You rolled tired shoulders and unzipped coveralls to tie the arms round your waist over your sweated tank top.  Wandered over to pull the pen from his fingers and put a fresh one in hand.  So lost in thought he failed to notice.  Went right back to scribbling.  Curiosity had you glance over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of whatever incomprehensibly complex mathematics he was entrapped in.

And instead stared down at two open pages scrawled with your name.  And his.  And little rough sketches and doodles that had a heat rising under your skin with the searing intensity of a late summer sunburn.  Under your lean over his shoulder Viktor had swam to the surface, fresh pen stilling its most recent scrawl of your name before it dropped and he scooped one elegant hand under the jacket of his notebook to slam it shut and spin on you.  Luminous golden eyes wide.

Before you could stop yourself you’d reached past him fast as a striking snake and grabbed up the notebook.  Back pedaled a few steps as you flipped through it.  Your name, his name, doodles and drawings and.... oh.  You turned that page sideways and squinted.  OH.  

“Wait.  Please...”  His voice was broken, begging.  Mortified.  

“Viktor.  Do you...”  You were going to tease him, grinning, delighted.  Until you looked up and saw him wilt, the fine splay of one hand hiding half his face as he slumped back onto his lab stool.  Oh no. 

Still, you weren’t giving that book back.  Yet.  Tucked it behind the small of your back in the waistband of coveralls and closed in on him.  Very much emboldened by all the scribbles on those pages, lovely spidery litany of your name over and over again intertwined with his.  Had you slot yourself between the long spread of his lean thighs.  Permanently stained and calloused hand tugging away the one that hid his face by the wrist.  

He resisted, and for a strained second you felt sure he was going to rise, spindle legs carrying him backward off the stool and out of the lab.  But instead he gave, and let his hand drop, heat burning fever under pale skin beneath.  Hot as steam burnt steel under your fingers as you caught up the fine angles of his face.  Glad he didn’t seem to mind the scent of gear grease and petrol on your skin.  Or how rough your thumb was as you slid it over the little freckle under his eye. 

“Have you settled on one?”  You couldn’t help your teasing nature, had to ask.  So pleased he would be so obsessed as to fill pages with your names together.

“Please.”  Still pained, he tried to pull his face from the frame of your hands, tried to reach round you to grab the book back.  Instead you caught his arm behind you and pressed it higher as you leaned in.

Took a chance and pushed your forehead to his temple.  Watched him exhale a shiver and turn amber eyes up toward yours.  So close you could see the flecks of brown and green imbedded in the gold depths.  Unable to help yourself, you pressed him.

“What else have you written about us?”

#sfw #viktor x reader arcane #viktor #arcane #drabble #ty for this adorable prompt #love me some embarrassed Vitya #gn!reader #but if you think I based reader on Audrey from Atlantis? #you right #two for flinching

[whomstwedointheshadows]

Hello, yes you Nandermo shippers, would you like to come along to delulu land?

I have some thoughts on the clickbaitiness of Paul Simms. Reading the transcript of the Nandermo moment (all hail @kyrilu for doing the damn thing on our behalf) and there’s two follow up segments to frame the Nandermo comment from a PR/fuck-around option.

1) the Kiss card was brought up by the interviewer, seemingly pulling the writer ms back to the topic of the panel, segueing to important, pre-planned questions.

I’m not sure where the information about the existence of Nandor+Guillermo+Kiss was first published. Regardless, this had to be a pre-cleared question. Behind the scenes, these media panels absolutely clear questions and topics in advance.

2) Vulture is posting reviews and materials very, very shippy of Nandermo. This was the ship friendliest possible room full of media explicitly gathered to drum up buzz for the new season. It wasn’t a random instagram stream about their writing process. The interviewer confirms the infidelity theme-then there’s going to be some backtracking to make it ‘sooo not sexual’ - the headline is not ‘Nandermo Infidelity Cofirmed’ now it’s ‘That Moment Wasn’t Sexual’

[sidebar: I have no idea how the strikes affected the usual publicity cycle and what impact that has on numbers, other than it definitely did. I would imagine those conversations and reactions to their ‘material’ has some sway/inspiration over the next season, from a producing standpoint or the general glee of a creator reading responses. It’s incredibly fortunate for the show there was already a season in process to come back and make due to the two season renewal. At the time of planning this panel it was not known when the actors strike would end, which I imagine changes the plan for promo cycles, especially one they were already adapting. My guess is the season 5 actors promo was completed based on our media, but any ‘soft power’ that comes from writers work/networking/teasing was altered. We missed anything they planned/reacted/tweeted while the show was airing. TLDR: this panel is coming after a long period of not rattling sabers from the writers.]

I put all of this here to say, as much as I don’t know about the business-side of show business, everyone was explicitly in that room to generate media and attention and demand for the show. That’s the actual point of the event, which absolutely has an impact on word choice. They’re comedy writers, with a flair for dramatic also doing the business part with a streak of evil teasing their audience.

Alrighty, foundation established, the big question and the Best Fan Interjection:

I salute you, sassy audience.

3) The WORDS

Word choice: hook-up

Does ‘the greatest romance on television’ have a one-off hook up, or does it get wrapped in plot and Have Significance and Pay-Off for all of the tension? What’s the most entertaining way in service of the show that’s worth losing the Will-they-Won’t-they dynamic? Can they subvert expectations in a way that makes the writers feel smart and like they’ve spent years building it is worth the investment from the audience? I have theories about A Secret Third Thing for absurdity being the direction they prefer on wwdits. It’s got be a big gambit to land to anyone’s satisfaction.

For an in character analysis of the infidelity not being sexual- I’m just going to put the concept of ‘honor’ and what being a familiar is in vampiric society, that this interpretation is absolutely fair as a breach of trust between Nandor and Guillermo. This response reads as truthful about that specific plot line ignoring everything fucking sexual about vampires, vows and penetration. Yes, he’s right- they didn’t fuck nasty on camera, it was just an intimate betrayal that maps really well giving someone you admire power over you, but realizing what they think is best for you, best for them, and what you want are all different things. That’s another story specific to this plotline. Also super common in anti-sitcom divorce tropes.

Would there be an entertaining story if Nandermo went all-in right now, for these characters? Or would it erase development and stagnate in a hierarchy?

I do think writers feel a responsibility to their stories and their audiences, even if the audience doesn’t like parts. I think WWDITS is a very smart show that loves/hates vampires and sitcoms, and it is always going to choose the highest setting on the dial for dark comedy on a subverted sitcom trope, which means while it can be an absolute riot with horrendous implications so it has to pull back enough for the next episode to be in the format with a new conceit.

There’s toxic co-dependent idiots Nandermo, and then there’s cruel, abusive, worst impulses working against each other being explicit, which kills the heart of the show.

4) What’s the Job?

WWDITS Audience: I don’t think the writers actually think it’s a little group of queer fans getting over invested on Nandermo. In fact, I think they are aware of the past Queerbaiting Sins of Network Television based on their serious storylines for queer characters. I think the archetypes and themes of the show specifically court that audience, and each season has only been more to those tastes by laying a solid foundation to explore what hasn’t been the focus of storytelling in the past. I think writers are a tricksy bunch and they’ve got a team who takes the dynamics seriously enough to tell the story of getting to a better place for the characters and entertainment. Hell, there’s a writer from Frasier on the panel who talks about slow burns.

Knowing that shipping has a long history, everyone is absolutely working from previous playbooks on how to tease and shape a story.

Even if a ship goes canon, absolutely no one is going to confirm it before it happens.

[Trickster storytellers, those liars, always wanting us to see their work unfold rather than spoil the ending. Even when they foreshadow or use dread, it’s just so they can feel smart about their lies when we look back, damn writers, emotional vampires. ]

While I shouldn’t underestimate the power of a straight white guy to mansplain some homophobic spice to ‘deeper than sex’ queerness, looking at the media of the actual show, the romantic ship framing is not in question. I’m of the persuasion it’s been great queer representation by having complex queer characters with varied ambitions and obstacles, often their choices driving the story for comedic/dramatic effect, of very selfish, horrible people.

That established, especially because the show has increasingly grown to be more visibly queer, the characters also have to be compelling to watch in their individual journeys even if a ship goes canon. However, no one would be satisfied if the fulfillment of a Nandermo ship was at the cost of the whole household or the characters themselves. The ‘Sunrise, Sunset’ and ‘No One Ever Really Dies in Shadows’ principles lead to an educated guess even if Nandermo becomes canon and carry their own plotlines, the episodes of the show are still going to be the dark, twisted ensemble shenanigans with sucker punches of heart. We love our djinn-curses in the narrative.

So, if ‘you don’t want what you think you want’ has relevance, I see it as these characters are not at their most compelling to get together-yet, as individuals or in the narrative of what the show wants to tell. That relationship wouldn’t be fulfilling or funny or fair- not that the characters deserve happy endings or an easy road, but to the journey of accepting and receiving love as part of the theme, seeing the love that matters/already exists ties into the conflicts around immortality/meaning. Haven’t we Good Omens fans learned that a kiss is not always the kiss we want?

For a Nandor in Space perspective, central to the vampire in western culture are themes of love/cruelty, class consciousness, the erotic other, transformation/stagnation/decay, inescapable time, the beast beneath the human face, inescapable temptation/indulgence, and cost/callousness of piety.

That’s some inherently kinky romantic shit right there, that necessitates crossing boundaries and abandoning norms. Even if the journey is actually murder-accessory to get what I want at all costs to this guy’s shampoo makes me realize this is a boundary I will not cross today because it reminds me of my own humanity.

#nandermo #what we do in the shadows #wwdits meta #wwdits 6

[tlbodine]

Lessons Learned at My First Book Signing

I attended an in-person author event today for the first time ever. It was not an especially high-profile deal -- just a local author fair hosted by the library. But it was still the first time I'd ever set up a table for the purpose of selling and signing books and interacting with would-be readers, and I want to talk about that experience a little bit and give some take-aways and advice for other writers who might be curious about doing something like this.

Step One: Find an Event

My dear friend and co-conspirator @comicreliefmorlock tipped me off about this. She saw a flier for it at the library and I applied on a whim, not even sure if I'd get accepted for the event. But I did! And that's the first lesson I want to give you: Everything good I have in my life I got by saying, "Fuck it, let's give it a shot."

Don't get too deep in your own head about things. Don't self-reject from opportunities. Kick imposter syndrome in the teeth and just do the thing.

Step Two: Set Up a Table

I was operating on a major shoestring budget for this, and I didn't have time to put together real signage or anything fancy. But I could go to the dollar store for some Halloween flair and a tablecloth and honestly? Even that was eye-catching enough that it definitely lured some people over. Next time I'll be better prepared to do something a bit more cohesive. But even these little touches put me miles beyond most of the other authors there, who just had a small stack of books on a bare table.

A few tips:

Don't put out all your books at once. Leave most of them in the box and tuck it under the table or somewhere. Fewer books, artfully arranged = implied scarcity. And it just looks nicer.

Scatter your business card/swag around the table. Consider leaving out a dish of candy. Freebies lure people into stopping.

Put up a sign with pricing. I used a small whiteboard from the dollar store and doodled on it when I got bored.

Try to have a little flair. Keep it on-brand with the type of stuff you're writing. The goal here is to be eye-catching enough that people want to come see what you've got going on.

Step Three: What You'll Need

If you're going to attend any kind of author fair or signing event, I recommend the following:

Some way to take payment not in cash. If I'd had a Square reader today, I would have probably sold at least a couple more books. Nobody carries cash anymore (but plan to have a bit of change anyway). The sales I made today came through PayPal, and having that QR code sign (free with my business account!) came in clutch.

An assistant. If you can, try to bring someone along to be your helper. It makes a huge difference having somebody who can watch your table while you go network with other sellers, as well as somebody who can help make change and restock the books if you get busy talking to people. And on the flipside, if nobody shows up, your helper can keep you from feeling super lonely and awkward.

Some kind of swag or, at least, a business card. Bookmarks or stickers/bookplates would be baller, too. But you for sure need something with your name and some kind of identifier -- your website, your social media, your Wattpad, something. This is what my business card looks like:

They're double-sided (the black is on the back). I had these printed up for Wattcon 2018 (and then forgot them in my car at the airport) and didn't have a website yet at that point. But I'm still quite fond of them. I designed them, had them printed, and picked them up at Office Depot.

I cannot express enough the importance of the business card. You may think you're there to sell books. But you are actually there so that people will remember your name. Folks who stop by might not be ready to buy your book, but they might check you out later. At the very least, they'll now have a thing with your name on it in their possession, which will help stick in their mind so the next time they see your name, it will have a ring of familiarity to it, which will make them much more likely to be interested in what you're doing.

Step Four: Talk to People!

Make eye contact and smile with passers-by. Engage with people who look interested in what you have to offer. Don't try to hard-sell or anything, but be available to answer questions. Have a quick, one-sentence pitch for explaining your book at the ready. Encourage people to take your swag.

And then get up and go talk to other people! If you're at an event where there are multiple authors, go introduce yourself (bring a business card!) and ask them questions about their work. Be friendly. I traded one of my books for a book from my neighbor's table today:

Eirik, it turns out, is a Twitter mutual of mine. We share like 20 online acquaintances and would have never known we lived in the same place if not for this event. I tagged him in my tweet about the event, and he tagged me back for his followers. That's networking, baby! (also this book looks sweet as hell. The Great Gatsby with werewolves? yes please. I'll let you know how it is after Angel gets done with it because she yoinked it from me as soon as it came back to the table).

Even if there aren't any other authors to meet-and-greet and network with, ingratiate yourself with the staff of the library/bookstore/wherever. Be friendly and thank them for the work they're putting in. Being kind and gracious is how you get invited back to more events. And you really want to make friends of librarians and bookstore employees because they're in a position every day to recommend books to dozens of people. Word of mouth is literally priceless in this business.

Something I saw others doing that was really smart is capturing email addresses to add to their newsletter. One had a giveaway raffle - sign up, then a name gets drawn at the end. One just encouraged people to sign up so they could learn more about his work. This was really clever and a good use of the space -- I'm going to do something similar next time I do this!

Step Five: Don't Get Discouraged

I sold two books at this event. That was twice as many as anybody else I talked to. Like I said earlier -- this is a marketing thing, not a chance to profit directly off book sales. Don't feel disappointed if you go to something like this and don't sell out. If people are scoping you out and engaging with you at all, if they're taking your card or signing up for your newsletter, that's a win.

R.L. Stine pretty famously had one person come to his first book signing. He writes about it in his autobiography. I figure, if his career could start out like that, it's good enough for anybody.

You can learn a lot from going to an event even if you're not selling books. From watching the way people interacted with my table, I came away with a few observations:

Most people who use libraries are, in order: old people, parents with young kids, teenagers. Of that, I captured the most attention of teenagers. They were drawn like catnip over to my table, maybe because of the Halloween decor, maybe because of the covers. Old people don't read horror, by and large -- they prefer mysteries. But a lot of them know someone else in their life who does like scary stuff, and a lot of them took my card to presumably tell their loved ones about it. (I had a few teenagers who absolutely would have been sales if they'd had any money. I told them I was also on Wattpad and encouraged them to take a card to look me up there. The response to that was an even mixture of bafflement, suspicion, and excitement. Yes, graying middle-aged farts like me are on Wattpad.)

The Darkness of Dreamland was far and away the book that captured people's attention. I think the cover really drew people in.

Purple is an unusual color in the genre, and that hand-painted unicorn with its malevolent, unusual design is a real eye-catcher. A lot of people wanted to stop and read the back cover to see what was up with this book. Which leads me to....

Your back cover copy is your most effective sales pitch. The front cover has to get them through the door, and the back cover seals the deal. It's really easy when you're working on them to forget about that. It's easy to get too deep in your head about making both of them accurate or literal interpretations of the story or symbolic or whatever. That's not the purpose. Your book cover is a marketing tool, it is ad copy, and you have to approach it with that mindset.

So those were my takeaways from my first-ever author fair. I hope some of this was at least a little interesting or helpful for you! I got a lot out of this experience, even if I did spend a whole lot more money ordering copies than I earned selling them -- now I just have to challenge myself to sell the rest of the books in my trunk!

Happy to answer any questions or give clarification on things.

#long post #writing advice #publishing advice #writing tips #publishing #book selling #writeblr

[learnfromjobs]

Hey there, job seekers! Ready for another dose of wisdom from your favorite self-proclaimed career guru? Of course you are, because why else would you be reading this blog?

Today, I want to talk about something near and dear to my heart: the importance of networking. I know, I know, you've heard it all before. "It's not what you know, it's who you know." Blah blah blah. But trust me, folks, networking is the key to success in any field.

Now, I'm not talking about the kind of networking where you slap on a fake smile and hand out business cards like they're candy on Halloween. No, no, no. That's amateur hour. Real networking is all about building genuine connections with people who can help you get ahead.

So how do you do that, you ask? Well, first of all, you need to be strategic about it. Don't waste your time schmoozing with just anyone. Figure out who the key players are in your industry and make a plan to connect with them. And don't be afraid to be creative! You never know where a networking opportunity might pop up. Maybe your dentist's sister-in-law's cousin is the CEO of your dream company. Stranger things have happened.

But here's the most important thing to remember about networking: it's not a one-way street. You can't just go around asking people to do favors for you without offering anything in return. That's just selfish and rude. Instead, focus on building mutually beneficial relationships. Offer to help people out when you can, whether it's by sharing your expertise, making an introduction, or just being a good listener. And be sure to show your appreciation when someone goes out of their way to help you. Gratitude goes a long way, my friends.

So there you have it, folks. The secret to success is not just what you know, but who you know. So get out there and start building those connections. And who knows, maybe one day you'll be the one doling out career advice on a blog. But let's be real, you'll never be as good as me.

Until next time,

Your favorite career guru (not LearnFromJobs)

[winemom-culture]

Last post huge if true but I do think learning traditional networking is also a VERY important thing and what I am starting to believe is maybe the MOST important skill kids will get out of a college experience. Barring some exceptions I think almost any degree is useful or useless depending on whether you learn how to apply it. Yes LinkedIn and business cards are cringe but I have to say I think the phase in my life where I literally went around to different businesses handing out my own business cards as a hairstylist for hours a day helped me later. Not even really in the area of building a hair clientele but later in having a 10 minute conversation that made people want to help or hire me, as the last post puts it. It all sucks, never fun to do unless you’re an insane extrovert (yes they’re out there), and I mostly blocked that phase out of my memory, but I can’t deny this.

[dwellordream]

“Before the American Revolution, New Englanders viewed the family as a strict hierarchy, an arrangement in which power flowed from top to bottom: The father was ruler of all, the mother was underneath him, and the (theoretically) obedient children were at the bottom. After 1800, however, that ideal changed. Book and magazine writers began picturing families in which men controlled the public realm of politics and business, but women took responsibility for the private sphere of the home. A marriage was viewed more as a partnership; true, the woman was still the junior partner, but the older model of the man as an absolute ruler was no longer fashionable among middle-class Northeasterners. 

…Because the man felt he was putting so much on the line by proposing, a ‘proper’ woman was expected to return a well-reasoned reply within a short period of time. A woman knew, however, that her response was perhaps her last chance to have control over her life. Once she said ‘yes,’ the legal cards would be stacked against her, regardless of the declarations of love by her suitor. Because the expectations of middle-class marriage had been raised so high, women found reports of marital disasters very disconcerting. One married woman wrote to a single friend that marriage was a ‘sad, sober beverage’ that brought ‘some joys, but many crosses’. 

…Once married, the suitors often cooled the fiery protestations of love found in their letters. Although many couples developed strong, deep bonds of affection, the idea of separate spheres--that women should stay at home, and men go out in the world--kept them apart for many hours of their lives. Advice books and religious sermons emphasized that wives were to make the home a haven of restfulness for their husbands. 

This separation of duties provided women with other companionship, however. The split between home and work strengthened friendships between women as they came to understand what they shared with each other and how their lives differed from men’s. Unlike a wife’s relationship with her husband, a friendship with another woman was based on equality. Although women developed networks of friends and relatives, intense relationships between two women were not uncommon. 

…Although divorces were growing faster among the urban northern middle class than any other group, such separations were still rare. Within the United States, only one in a thousand marriages ended in divorce before the Civil War. If a woman successfully sued for divorce, she would soon be wondering what price she had paid for her freedom. Alimony, or money paid regularly by a husband to his former wife, was rarely awarded, although judges occasionally ordered one-time cash settlements to women who had been abused by their husbands. If a woman had brought property into the marriage, she was not likely to take it back out. Once she and her husband said their ‘I do’s,’ her husband legally controlled all she owned. Her chances for finding work were few, especially if she was approaching or beyond middle age. 

…The nature of farming meant that women and men worked the same land, that women helped produce food and earn cash. Women thus saw the farm as a mutual effort. Frontier women were also less concerned than their eastern contemporaries with raising perfect families. On the frontier, children were valued as workers and companions. These conditions made for a more pragmatic approach to child rearing. Children were an important part of the work force on a prairie farm. While the size of northeastern middle-class families was shrinking dramatically during this period, frontier families were holding steady, averaging around seven children each. Compared to northeastern women, frontier women married earlier, had children earlier, and continued to give birth for more years--often past the age of 45. 

…Marriage relations between enslaved African Americans in the South changed little during the early 19th century. Legally, a master owned a slave and could compel that person to do whatever he wished. However, most slaveholders wanted their slaves to pair off and often sanctioned slave unions with their blessing, but marriages between slaves were not recognized legally. Nonetheless, most slave owners had at least one eye on their finances in supporting a slave’s choice in marriage. A typical plantation manual advised slaveholders that a slave marriage based on love would add ‘to the comfort, happiness, and health of those entering upon it, besides ensuring greater increase.’ Such marriages produced both stability and more slaves, two requirements of a successful plantation operation.

…Although many black couples exhibited as much restraint as middle-class couples up North, it was not uncommon for children to be born out of wedlock because slave culture did not make outcasts of unwed mothers. Instead, the slave community expected the new father and mother to wed, whereupon the newborn was immediately accepted into the community. Black couples made an extra effort to respect personal boundaries in an effort to replace some measure of the self-respect their owners tried to strip from them. Indeed, a number of white observers noted that while slave couples often adhered to Christian notions of sexual restraint, their aggressive masters frequently did not. 

…Southern plantation women married earlier than northern women, usually around the age of 20. By their mid-20s, when middle-class Northerners were marrying, single plantation women were being labeled ‘old maids.’ The southern ‘belle’ was spared nothing by her doting parents--she could purchase the latest fashions, then quickly discard them for a new ensemble. She lived in a sheltered world, punctuated by frequent balls and daily rounds of social calls to other fashionable women in the neighborhood. 

…Marriage relations among the southern planter class were in many ways an exaggerated version of those among the northeastern middle class. While virginity before marriage was expected for northeastern women, southern planter society placed an absolute premium on the bride’s ‘purity’. Northeastern women were placed on a platform and praised for their selflessness and moral rectitude. Plantation women were put upon a gilded pedestal, and southern writers extolled the refinement, piety, and grace by which these women surpassed all others. The result was a tightly constrained life that offered southern women few opportunities to move beyond the boundaries their society had established for them.”

Michael Goldberg, “Reasons of the Heart: Marriage and Courtship.” in Breaking New Ground: American Women, 1800-1848

#michael goldberg #history #american #marriage #gender #slavery #breaking new ground #19th century

[th3dailyoverload]

The Art of Networking: Building Professional Connections

As a young adult embarking on your journey into adulthood, building professional connections and networking can be a valuable asset in advancing your career and personal growth. Networking is not just about exchanging business cards or attending events; it's about cultivating meaningful relationships that can open doors to opportunities and support your professional development. In this blog article, we'll explore the power of networking for young adults and offer enthusiastic and judgement-free advice to help you navigate this important aspect of your journey.

Be Authentic and Genuine

When it comes to networking, authenticity is key because every can smell pretentiousness from a mile away. Be yourself, and let your true personality shine through in your interactions with others. People are more likely to connect with you on a personal and professional level if you are genuine and authentic. Show interest in others, listen attentively, and be open to sharing your own experiences and goals— relatability always softens people's heart and helps in letting down their guard.

Utilise Multiple Platforms

In today's digital age, networking opportunities abound on various platforms. Utilise online platforms such as LinkedIn, professional networking events, industry conferences, and social media to connect with like-minded individuals and expand your network. Be pro-active in reaching out to potential connections, sharing your expertise, and engaging in conversations that can lead to valuable relationships.

Offer Value and Support

Networking is not just about what you can gain; it's also about what you can offer to others. Be generous with your time, knowledge, and resources. Offer to help others with their projects, provide insights or advice based on your expertise and experiences, and support your connections in their professional endeavours. Building a reputation as a valuable and supportive networker can lead to long-lasting and mutually beneficial relationships, it can also spark other's interest in you as they know they are gaining a valuable network by connecting with you.

Attend Networking Events

Attending networking events and industry conferences is a great way to expand your professional circle and meet new people— during my undergraduate studies we were forced to attend these as part of practicals and I came to love them rather than see them as another task to be done. Be proactive in seeking out networking opportunities in your industry or field of interest. Prepare an elevator pitch that succinctly describes who you are, what you do, and what you're looking for in terms of professional connections. Approach conversations with confidence, curiosity, and a willingness to learn from others.

Follow-Up and Stay Connected

After making initial connections, it's important to follow up and stay connected with your network. Send a personalized thank-you message after meeting someone new, connect with them on LinkedIn, and consider setting up a follow-up meeting or coffee chat to deepen your relationship. Maintaining regular communication with your connections can help you stay top of mind and nurture valuable professional relationships over time.

Be Patient and Persistent

Building a strong professional network takes time and effort. Be patient and persistent in your networking efforts, and don't get discouraged by setbacks or rejections. Keep an open mind, stay positive, and continue to seek out new networking opportunities and connections. Remember, networking is a long-term investment in your personal and professional growth, and the relationships you build along the way can be invaluable in shaping your career journey.

In conclusion, networking is a powerful tool for young adults making their way into adulthood to build professional connections, expand their opportunities, and support your career development. By being authentic and genuine, utilizing multiple platforms, offering value and support, attending networking events, following up and staying connected, and being patient and persistent, you can create a strong and diverse network of contacts that can help you achieve your goals and aspirations. Embrace the journey of networking with enthusiasm and an open mind, and remember that every connection you make has the potential to impact your future success. Happy networking!

#adulting #th3dailyoverload #advice #growing up #judgement free #life advice #safe space #life adventures #networking #jobseekers #job hunting #work #job search

[detectivemickey]

Detective Mickey Pilot: Character Backstories - The Core Four

These are the backstories for the four most important characters in my fanfiction series Detective Mickey. They are Mickey Mouse, Minnie Mouse, Peg-Leg Pete, and the Phantom Blot. These characters will be influencing the plot the most and will have the most stories written about them.

I will probably make updates over time as the story grows.

Note: This is not required to understand my story but moreso just extra details for those interested.

If you haven't checked out the Sensational Side Characters, I would recommend doing so.

Mickey Mouse - Estimated Age: Late 20's - Early 30's

Mickey Mouse has lived in Mouseton for almost his entire life. He had a decent relationship with his parents, though he was much closer to his older sister Felicity and family friend Captain Churchmouse. He loved to listen to Captain Churchmouse about his adventures over the sea, and imagine what kind of adventures he would go on if he ever decided to leave Mouseton. He also loved to spend time with his sister, taking pictures for her homemade articles with his trusty Ol’ Reliable and just generally being with her. As a kid, he used to be quite the troublemaker, though it came from a good-nature desire to help. Overtime he developed a more modest and mild personality, but is still the brave and curious mouse we know today. He met Minnie in kindergarten and they have been together ever since. He met Donald during a regional Junior Woodchuck camping trip where they were bunk bed buddies. Even after the camp Mickey still kept in contact with him through emails and they would visit each other in Duckburg or Mouseton as much as they could. Eventually Mickey would meet Goofy who was working as a janitor at his high school and would help him out in watching Max and Goofy would help him learn life lessons. In high school, Mickey and Minnie finally started dating, despite having a crush on eachother since middle school. They have been dating ever since and can’t even imagine a life without each other.

Mickey was inspired by his sister to become a journalist just like her. So he went to college and got a journalism degree at Mouseton University. During his time at college Mickey’s relationship with Donald and Goofy deepened as they formed a bit of a trio. When Mickey and Donald finally graduated, the group split as Donald moved back to Duckburg to new responsibilities and Goofy decided to move to Spoonerville for a “promotion”. However they all still try to keep in touch through group chat and visit each other whenever they get the chance. His relationship with Minnie was also long distance for a bit when she went to a different school and eventually Paris to study fashion. Mickey actually found Pluto around this time, which helped him feel less alone when they weren’t there. After graduating, Mickey was able to get a position at the Mouseton Argus with help from his sister. They didn’t get to work together for long as Felicity ended up leaving for a position at a national news network and the Editor in Chief who liked her and Mickey retired and was replaced with one that didn’t. This new Editor in Chief refused to let Mickey be a part of any major stories and often forced Mickey to do busy work under false pretenses that Mickey will eventually be able to move up. This led Mickey to go after his own stories in hopes that he could prove himself as a journalist. Little did Mickey know that this would result in the capture of one of the biggest criminal masterminds of the world as well as a new opportunity to work as a crime-fighting detective. However, is this the direction that Mickey wants his life to go? Has the capture of the Phantom Blot improved his life… or did it make it worse?

Fun Fact: Mickey is actually a pretty good artist. He specializes in ink drawings and uses very simple organic shapes to make beautiful designs in the whitespace. Often when his friends are down he'll make them cards with unique characters he thought of to cheer them up and a kind message. He also made comics for his sister's newspapers and for the Mouseton Argus. His comics tend to vary between being experimental and artistic or silly gags.

Minnie Mouse - Estimated Age: Late 20's - Early 30's

Minnie Mouse was born and raised in Mouseton. She has a great relationship with her mother, though unfortunately not a great one with her dad and her many half brothers. Though she ends up making up with one of her half brothers, allowing her to bond with her nieces Millie and Melody Mouse. Her mom worked as a gardener and often had her clothes torn up or damaged from working. Minnie would often patch these, which gave her a love for sewing and eventually fashion design. She first met Mickey Mouse in kindergarten and they have been close ever since. Often when her mother was away at work, she would visit Mickey’s house and they would go on adventures in their local neighborhood. She was the more organized of the two, but also not afraid to speak her mind if she felt like she or any of her friends were being disrespected. She is known for her famous or rather infamous “talks” that tend to make people regret messing with her. She had a crush on Mickey since middle school, but it wasn’t until their junior year of high school that they finally confessed their feelings at the same time and started to date. They are still in a very loving relationship and care very deeply for each other. Minnie’s love for fashion design evolved into a dream to own a boutique store in Mouseton where she can display and sell her own designs. 

She is a huge advocate for bow-centric fashion and believes that she can bring bows back into style. She went to a fashion school outside of Mouseton for a couple of years, but then ended up getting a chance to study abroad in Paris for the rest of her education. Despite showing great skills and taste, Minnie struggled with many of her peers making fun of her designs claiming that bow fashion will never make a return. Thankfully she had the support of her friends and her long distance boyfriend to keep going. She eventually graduated and moved back to Mouseton, sharing an apartment with Clarabelle Cow and Lilly Lamb. She started her own online store called “Minnie’s Bowtique” and hired Lilly Lamb as well as another friend Penny Pooch as employees. Lilly helps with whatever is needed, but later becomes the marketing and social media manager. Penny is temporarily working here as she applies and interviews to get a job in graphic design. Minnie met Daisy Duck online on a forum for small business owners and they’ve been best friends ever since. They often provided each other support for their business and once it was revealed that Daisy’s new boyfriend was Donald, Mickey’s best friend, they started to hang out more as a friend group. The site has been doing decently, gaining meaningful albeit slow growth. But Minnie hopes that once she makes enough profit, she can fully complete her dream and open her own physical store. Can she truly be able to accomplish her dreams as it feels far away from becoming a reality? Would it even matter if the love of her life doesn’t survive his new much more dangerous job? Can she truly get what she wants in life?

Fun Fact: Minnie loves to play softball. She has been a part of a softball team since she was in middle school and even today still plays on the Mouseton Mousers team at the Mouseton Community Center. She is often the pitcher for the teams that she is on with very powerful and tricky throws, though she could still improve on accuracy. Mickey of course tries to make every single game and practice he can, cheering for her on the stands.

Peg-Leg Pete (Percy P. Pete/Percival) - Estimated Age: Mid 40's - Late 40's

Pete grew up in a very large criminal family in a rough part of Mouseton at the edge of town. While Pete had ups and downs with many of his family members, he was close to his mother Maw Pete (Parry) and his sisters Petunia Pete, the mother of Pierino & Pieretto and Petula Pete. But the one person he was the absolute closest to was his cousin Portis Egmont who was practically a brother to him. They bonded due to both being considered the “runts” of their generation and Portis even made him his prosthetic foot. The family Matriarch, Great Grammaw Pete (Patty), owned a settlement of townhouses that have been passed down their family for generations. It was common for members of the Pete family to drop out of high school and join one of the many criminal branches of the family. The family as a whole was never too wealthy, but supported each other through the money they made from their misdeeds. Pete dropped out of high school in his senior year so that he could join the Robbery and Theft branch of the family. He hoped to one day run the branch, but unfortunately his runt status often made that difficult. No matter how many schemes he shared and how many times he tried to prove himself, they either didn’t work or no one would listen to him. Eventually he got fed up and decided to break off from the family to start his own gang with Portis called “Pete’s Gang”.

The two did fine on their own, but decided to hire more members for their gang. They ended up hiring Scuttle and Trudy and together they committed some of the best crimes in all of their careers and formed a sort of family, both figuratively and literally as Pete proposed to and married Trudy after a couple months of working with each other. They even got to work with the Phantom Blot a couple of times just as he was skyrocketing to fame. However, this didn’t last long as Pete decided to take a risky but rewarding job for the Wind Willows Weasel gang. The job ended up failing, and when Pete got arrested he ratted out the weasels to reduce his sentence. But this ended up affecting not just the weasels, but also the rest of Pete's Gang as Scuttle and Trudy also got arrested because of this. Ashamed, he took the reduced sentence. When he got out, he did attempt a prison rescue, but was unable to find where the rest of his team went, leaving him all alone.

This caused Pete to go into another depression as he wandered around Spoonerville, the town next to the prison he was let out of, not knowing what to do. He ended up accidentally stopping a crook from stealing from a poor woman and gained her gratitude. This woman was Peg Percival who decided to take Pete out to lunch as a thank you. When she learned about how lost he was, she decided to take him in as a project. She let him rent a room at her house and got him a job as a used car salesman. Eventually they got married, he took her last name, and had Pete Junior or PJ. Though Pete likes his new family, he still thinks about Trudy and what could have been. He ended up becoming the owner of the dealership he worked at, and when she retired she made Pete the new owner and even let him change the name. Things were going great, until Pete realized that there were quite a few unpaid bills from the previous owner and that the dealership was not doing as well as he thought. It didn’t help that Peg was also pregnant with another child, Pistol. To make matters worse some of the members from the Wind Willows Weasel gang stopped by the dealership to get some getaway cars and instantly recognized him. When they questioned him, Pete quickly came up with the explanation that the dealership is a front for future criminal activity and was hoping to work with them again. He also gave them some free getaway cars, and helped them forge documents for them, in hopes of getting their good graces and to take suspicion off of him ratting them out. It works and he ends up working alongside them and makes quite a bit of money, enough to save the dealership and support his new growing family, without Peg knowing a thing. Scuttle even ended up dropping by from who knows where to help and Pete was introduced to the corrupt lawyer Sylvester Shyster who worked for the weasels and now helps Pete narrowly avoid any legal trouble. Pete even got back in contact with Portis, though he was too busy running his own criminal business to join in. Pete was so successful that he even started to impress his family, when they heard. He decided to open another “dealership” in Mouseton and move his family there so that he could work closer with them and expand his growing criminal empire. He has been in Mouseton for about a year and has been able to make massive amounts of money without the police suspecting a thing. But how can Pete keep this up? And could the new detective provide more trouble than he expected?

Fun Fact: Pete was actually part of his football team at the high school he went to. He initially joined as part of a scheme, but ended up liking it enough to stay on. He even teased the idea of going into professional football. Of course this never ended up happening, as he ended up being part of the reason why the football team lost the playoffs that would have taken them to the state championships. Though it wasn’t entirely his fault as there was a “goofy” cheerleader that got into the way. He actually still uses what he learned from football on some of his robberies.

The Phantom Blot (Full Name: N/A) - Estimated Age: Mid 40's - Late 40's

The Phantom Blot grew up in a very wealthy family. His father was a ruthless top executive at Wright & Thwaites, a company mostly known for being the largest producer of high-quality ink in the world though they also sell other office supplies. His mother was a vain theater actress who had a decent career in supporting roles, but was mostly known for hosting incredible parties for the wealthy to meet and do business. The Phantom Blot was never really close with them as they were more focused on their own goals than him. However, he impressed everyone else around him and quickly gained a reputation as a child prodigy as he won nearly every competition he was in and aced all of his tests. Eventually, he decided to get into acting. He had some assistance from his mother but mostly had to guide the rest of his acting career by himself. At the private school he attended, he practically ran the entire drama department along with the teacher. Being the director, lead actor, props and special effects manager, head of the costuming department, etc. After he graduated he went to Goosliard to study, while still performing whenever he could. He showed so much talent and promise that he was getting multiple offers begging him to star in their shows before he even finished college. The Phantom Blot's future seemed so bright, but also so empty.

One day, an acquaintance asked if the Phantom Blot would help them on a robbery, to pay off a big favor the Blot asked of him. The Phantom Blot, so disillusioned and bored with his life, agreed and they set off to rob a bank. However this heist ended up changing the Phantom Blot’s life as he realized how much he loved the heist and how effectively he was able to avoid the police during a chase. As the Phantom Blot still worked to finish school, he started to be a part of more and more thefts and realized he enjoyed being a thief more than he enjoyed acting. So he abandoned his previous life and started a new life as the “Phantom Blot”. As the Phantom Blot he accomplished some of the most incredible feats in criminal history and raking in billions of dollars. He gained a massive reputation around the world for being an unstoppable criminal genius who has never been caught and has always left the police befuddled in his wake. He even got a request by F.O.W.L to work as a top agent with one of the best salary and benefit packages they have ever offered. But his refusal ended up creating a rift between him and the organization. He continues to go on more impressive heists to prove himself. He prefers to work alone, but will hire others if it is required to complete a heist. One of the first groups he hired was Pete’s Gang and he continued to work with them a couple of times before they broke apart. Though he still works with Portis every once in a while. Except for an odd three to four month break, The Phantom Blot has been a frightening force that no one has been able to stop and most doubt that he even can be. Or at least he was, until a little mouse got into the way. Regardless, the Phantom Blot has achieved fame, power, and riches beyond anyone’s wildest dreams including his own and yet he still hungers for more. Can his greed ever be satisfied? And with a new mouse causing problems for him, is it possible that the Phantom Blot has finally reached his limit?

Fun Fact: The Phantom Blot is a fantastic singer. He was professionally taught by a private tutor while he was young and trained himself to have perfect pitch. His voice has a very operatic element to it that is both haunting and alluring. He typically doesn’t like to sing for others, unless he is performing, but he will often sing for himself in places he assumes are abandoned. However, if a place isn’t as abandoned as he thought, some others may catch his singing, though they never find out where it is coming from. This accidentally led to the creation of many urban legends about these locations being haunted by a musical ghost.

[mariacallous]

Last week, Elon Musk rebranded Twitter as “X.” New CEO Linda Yaccarino tweeted that X would be “centered in audio, video, messaging, payments/banking,” a step toward Musk’s vision of creating the “everything app” for the Western world. Musk has been focused on this vision for Twitter since before he even bought it, repeatedly praising the Chinese app WeChat in a June 2022 town hall at Twitter. WeChat is known for doing virtually anything an app can do—messaging, audio/video, meetings, translation, social networking, shopping, payments, ride sharing, food delivery, and more. It’s an indispensable app in China, and Musk wants to build X into that app in the United States.

Musk has been laser-focused on his vision of the everything app for longer than most realize. He’s also long been obsessed with the letter X—he named his original online bank X.com, founded SpaceX, and even named his son “X Æ A-12.” His X-ray vision, if you’ll forgive the pun, dates back to his founding of the original X.com. Musk described that firm, which would eventually merge with Confinity to form PayPal, as a “global financial nexus” that could handle bank accounts, mortgages, credit, insurance, stocks—anything and everything financial.

On the face of it, none of this seems unreasonable. Such an app would be one of the most valuable companies in the world if it succeeded. It’s a tall task, but Musk has been involved in the founding of three separate multibillion-dollar companies. WeChat (along with competitors such as AliPay) has proven that such apps can reach scale and be wildly successful. And WeChat was initially built on the back of parent company Tencent’s popular social network, QQ. If it can be done, why not Musk? And why not start with Twitter?

Unfortunately for Musk, his vision of creating a Western WeChat is doomed to failure. Companies like Meta and Alphabet have made attempts before. These companies have every advantage—more cash available than Musk, larger pools of technical talent, better public reputation, and more successful lines of business in the app ecosystem. Nevertheless, none have succeeded in building an everything app. WeChat exists in a very specific Chinese context, and attempts to brute force it in a very different context will crash and burn.

The most important function of an aspiring everything app is payments, which unlock enormous value for the app and convenience for the user. But mobile payments in China are an outlier—87 percent of Chinese people used mobile payments in 2021, almost double the next highest nation. And that outlier status comes from the unique way that China’s payment economy developed.

China’s explosive economic growth over the 2000s saw the country transition from being a mostly unbanked, cash-based economy to a phone-based, app-payment economy without ever having a middle phase of adopting credit cards. As China’s new middle class grew, credit cards were available to a limited upper class—but never became a commonplace part of national financial infrastructure.

What China did have was a lot of cheap smartphones. By the early 2010s, most people there still didn’t have a PC, but they had a mobile phone, and increasingly they were switching to cheap smartphones. But those smartphones were mostly low-end products, with limited processing power and storage space. A high number of bloated apps wasn’t going to cut it for an average user, so many basic functionalities began to cluster inside a small number of super-apps. With the public hungry to abandon cash, apps like WeChat were the natural and widespread solution. Most vendors didn’t have existing relationships with payment companies. But they were happy to jump all the way to taking mobile payments—especially since all they needed to do so was a cheap smartphone, not an expensive terminal. China essentially leapfrogged credit cards all the way to mobile payment.

The United States in 2023 is not in that same position. Americans, for the most part, are not newly middle class and unbanked. Americans love credit cards, have deep experience with them, and use them regularly. And the country is filled with an enormous number of financial firms competing at every level—banking services, credit services, payment apps, stock brokerages, and more. Musk’s X will be entering a far more crowded and competitive market for customers who are already using far better and more developed alternatives.

Competitive is the key word there, because there are many Western companies that would have loved to compete with apps such as WeChat. But China’s government long ago banned nearly every non-Chinese alternative to native Chinese apps in areas including social media, video sharing, messaging, news, search, finance, and more. The list of apps banned in China is so extensive that it’s likely faster to point out the few that aren’t banned.

With so much of the competition absent, it was much easier for Chinese apps to dominate many fields at once as Chinese internet adoption skyrocketed. The Chinese government mostly didn’t pick favorites domestically at first—but it kept out foreign competition and let domestic products thrive. Twitter/X doesn’t live in that same world. The U.S. government won’t protect Musk from competition.

One of the ironies in all this is that the window to develop an everything app may be over in China as well, as the Chinese government’s approach to the tech sector has changed. During China’s boom years, the state often took a laissez-faire approach to tech regulation. The Hu Jintao government and even the early Xi Jinping years saw a booming economy, where tech companies were allowed to grow rapidly and dominate markets as long as they cooperated with censorship, handed over information to the government, and paid off the right people. Analyst XiaoFeng Wang explicitly links this flexible environment with WeChat’s growth, saying, “The more flexible regulatory environment in China at the time gave internet companies like Tencent and Alibaba more room to extend to a wide range of businesses. WeChat benefited from that and grew into a super-app.”

But the Chinese government has grown deeply worried about the power of the super-apps, for both good and bad reasons. Any power that does not reside directly in the party’s hands is distrusted at a time when Xi has demanded total party leadership of everything—and the influence and reach of tech companies has been sharply curtailed in the last few years, wiping billions off their value. Chinese regulators were also genuinely worried about the sheer degree of anti-competitive practices. It had become common, for instance, for firms to block links to their competitors’ products. Breaking down those “walled gardens” has become a major part of regulation since 2021.

Building a super-app would be hard in China today—and even harder in the United States or Europe, with their anti-monopoly legislation and political skepticism toward powerful tech companies. Even if Musk’s X could theoretically succeed, it probably wouldn’t be allowed to do so legally.

Yet paradoxically, while regulators raised eyebrows, elements of the Chinese government also welcomed the opportunities that WeChat and other ubiquitous apps offered. Chinese firms exist at the pleasure of the state and are always subordinate partners to it. WeChat’s parent company, Tencent, is well known for collaboration with the Chinese Communist Party in areas large and small, producing sycophantic patriotic games and engaging in widespread censorship and espionage. Foreign Policy has reported that Tencent was even partially funded by the Ministry of State Security in its early days.

These incidents highlight why an app such asWeChat would be permitted to thrive—because it’s useful to the party. In the James C. Scott sense, WeChat increases the legibility of Chinese society. You can’t control what you can’t see, so make sure you can easily see everything. If all of Chinese daily life is funneled through a single portal, it’s that much easier for the party to observe and control lives. Monitoring a single WeChat account could allow police to see an individual’s travel patterns, spending, and social contacts, which is why many dissidents or activists avoid using the app when possible.

Chinese consumers have become more privacy-conscious about the data they hand over to companies—but are hopeless or unaware of the amount of information the government can get from them. Western companies hoping to emulate WeChat not only don’t have the government on their side, but also face a much tougher and more skeptical audience. And in Musk’s case, who—apart from the most ardent of fans—is going to trust him with their money at this point?

WeChat and its counterparts in China grew up in unique, nonrepeatable circumstances. They faced a massive middle class with plenty of cheap smartphones but no traditional banking or credit cards. They were protected from Western competition by the Chinese government. That same government applied a very light regulatory touch as the companies grew, and also encouraged centralization as a way to maintain greater control.

None of those factors exist in the United States today, and Musk’s dream of building the X app for everything is essentially impossible without them. American consumers already have dozens of easy payment choices through credit cards, debit cards, and existing mobile apps. Musk won’t be protected from competition by the government. Instead, he’ll be treated in a more hostile manner by regulators concerned about privacy, monopoly power, and his general history with flouting the law.

Larger and more important tech firms than Twitter—or, as Musk now insists, X—have tried and failed in this area. Meta owns several social networks and several messaging apps, and has tried expanding into areas like marketplaces, video, payments and more. But most of these experiments have failed to reach any sort of scale, and Meta’s successes have come from disaggregating and breaking things apart rather than bundling them together. Google’s Alphabet parent company has succeeded in a wide variety of areas such as search, video, email, payments, and more. But its attempts to build a social network flamed out spectacularly, and like Meta, their biggest successes have come from separated apps and brands, not a singular everything app.

For all its cultural importance and for all that the chattering class is addicted to it, Twitter’s just never been that large. Meta has nearly 4 billion monthly active users across its family of apps. Twitter/X, even if you believe Musk’s suspiciously cropped data, is a bit more than a 10th of that. Meta and Alphabet are orders of magnitude larger and more important than Twitter/X. If they’ve tried and failed to create the everything app, there’s no reason to believe that Musk can succeed.

Musk’s vision for the original X.com impressed Silicon Valley. By 2000, X.com had merged with Confinity, and Musk took over as CEO of the new company. He focused his vision on the global financial nexus, the proto-everything app, despite investor and board skepticism. He pursued that idea maniacally, to the detriment of PayPal/X’s core product of payment by email. He also insisted on branding the company as “X,” despite PayPal’s strong existing brand.

And in less than a year, he was coup’d out of the company and replaced as CEO by Peter Thiel. PayPal was saved as a company because its board ejected Musk. This time around there’s no board that matters except Elon, and there’s no one to save him from himself.

[partyanimal167]

A companion fic to "Self-Indulgent," but can be mostly read on its own. A reader on AO3 asked some important follow up questions, and I was like "damn, I could write more." Plus, there's something naughty about some pinning competition between Doffy and Croc.

Decisions, decisions. Damn, a girl wouldn't mind getting used to this kind of attention, really.

You fidgeted under the lustful stare you were under-- blushing and scratching your cheek awkwardly. You were really trying to stay under the radar, but when that deep rumble summoned you to the office, you knew there was no way you were going to stay hidden.

"Fufufufu, did my princess have a good weekend?" you blushed at the comment. You had an idea why he asked that, but there was still a chance for you to play dumb though.

"Ye-yes, sir. I jus-," you were going to start some ridiculous rant about shopping and what not.

"Seems I need to pay Croc a visit; tell him to be more gentle in bed."

Your eyes grew large and shot up to meet those tinted sunglasses. You couldn't ignore the deep blush on your face, how the room suddenly grew hotter. "Excus-," you quickly shut yourself up as your boss stood up and walked around to you. He lifted your chin before caressing your bottom lip. So softly, he trailed down before tapping a darkened spot on your neck.

"It's unprofessional to come to work with a hickey, doll. Someone might get jealous." he chuckled, but you knew that could be interpreted as a warning.

You continued to blush but twirled a lock of hair and batted your eyelashes. "Oh I'm sorry, Doffy." your fingers danced on his arm. "I'll be sure to make it up to you."

He grinned and kissed your cheek. "I'm sure you will."

~~~

Even knowing that for now Crocodile just wanted you to sit pretty during business meetings and lunches, you still were reluctant about attempting to leave the generous care and protection of that notorious Donquixote. If you could play your cards right, maybe you could bask in the riches and attention of both men. Crocodile wasn't pressuring you too much about becoming an actual worker. You still had your information network and allies as well as the pirate common sense to spot a rat when necessary. You proved your value for sure, but that didn't alleviate all your problems. For instance, there wasn't really a way to work yourself out of this specific situation.

You chuckled nervously as those dark eyes peered down at you unamusingly. You had been avoiding that look for the last couple hours, but here you were. Your attention shifted as you were pulled closer to your host. "Why the long face, Croc? I'm sure the meeting wasn't that bad." Doflamingo laughed. You blushed and eyes wandered aimlessly trying to pretend to be anywhere but here.

"I normally don't mind your usual eccentric behavior, but this is a little much even for you." He drawled out--not bothering to blow his smoke far from where you two sat. "You're trying to show off."

"Fufufufu, I'm just bringing along some nice company for this fine lunch. Surely, you would do the same."

"Of course, you don't come across company as lovely as Y/N."

You nearly melted and finally allowed yourself to look up. There was something dark yet intrigued in Crocodile's eyes. You fought a shiver as your hand was brought to his lips. "It'll be my pleasure to see you home."

"She's coming-,"

"Why relax, sir, you can't have a lady waiting. I'm sure those gentlemen have a lot to talk to you about still." Crocodile immediately shut down and gestured to the group of men chatting away nearby. He lifted you up then wrapped an arm around your waist, hook lightly running along your side. "I'll be gentle with her."

...

He was not gentle with you.

You moaned as you were flipped onto your stomach and felt two fingers shoved into your cunt. Squelching rung in your ears as you gushed onto Crocodile's fingers. "I don't think that spanking did anything if you're still being a brat. I asked you a question, doll. Who's dick are you begging for every night?"

You clenched the sheets, and your hips rocked along. "Uh fuck, yours- yours, sir." you sobbed. You sunk further into your plush bed as he loomed over you.

It was not your best idea to tease Crocodile on the way to your place. He only sat and listened to your rambles about how your outfit was sent to you, limo picked you up, that everyone was captivated by your entrance, that you didn't mind feeling how strong Doflamingo felt just by sitting next to you. Once you two were inside, you were getting pushed off the floor and kissed breathlessly. Your clothes now in shreds below. "Don't go wearing another man's clothes in front of me."

Crocodile bit your ear and kept fingering you. "That's right, dear. I know you're smart. You knew what would happen if I caught you clinging to that bird. Want me to send you off to him just like his? I'm sure you wouldn't mind. Want to handle the both of us? I know how to fulfill a whore's needs."

Oh those words were tempting, but you were too distracted to go off daydreaming about a bed-breaking threesome. Crocodile smirked feeling how you clenched onto him. Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out. You groaned and slammed a fist into the mattress. "No sir, please! I wanna cum!"

"Hehe, who said you could? You hurt my feelings," he faked a painful tone. He chuckled as he sucked his fingers. "It's not nice watching you flaunt yourself in front of him. I know he's still being used in your shows." He started rubbing himself at your entrance. "I think I'm being generous with you." He let out a deep breath in order to keep himself restrained. He wanted you sobbing and begging for his dick first.

You looked up at him and panted. "Yes, so nice sir, please. I'll be good I promise."

Crocodile chuckled darkly. "Oh, I'm not that easy, love." he only gave you an inch. "I don't like sharing." he pulled back. He quieted his pant that escaped. He wanted that hot soft feeling around him, but there was still a lesson to be taught. "You like playing around with me; you'll get hurt." he gave you a little more. "Ugh, not that you'd mind I'm sure." he grunted. He slapped your thigh to try to ground himself. "Maybe you don't deserve this after all-,"

You threw yourself back and groaned feeling most of him inside. You rocked forward then back again. "Stop being mean daddy," you moaned at the fullness and didn't mind the slight drool out of your mouth. "I want it now!" you whined.

Lesson be damned at this point. Crocodile grabbed your hips and started setting a heavy pace. "Fucking brat," he bit his lip. His hair was starting to become a disheveled mess. He remained barely aware of his hook as he continued to use you to get off. You didn't want to be a good girl, then that was fine. He wasn't going to play nice anymore.

Your eyes started to roll back as he bullied your cunt. So good, so good.

"I'll make sure you remember who's pussy this is." Crocodile grinned. "I'll get it to stick in that brain of yours."

~~~

Doflamingo frowned as he watched you continue to clean tables and sweep without so much as a glance in his direction the entire night. The staff fluttered around him with the usual praises and compliments. He knew he didn't want Crocodile leaving with you those nights ago, but he couldn't have gotten out of that discussion even if he really wanted to. The sacrifices necessary for business.

He finally got you alone in his office after closing. He wished he was amused by how you fidgeted and avoided his tinted gaze. After a minute of so of silence, he lifted his head from his wrist and sighed. "Oh princess, don't give me that attitude. I have something important to tell you."

You pouted and reluctantly looked up. "I got in trouble because of you." you huffed.

Doflamingo closed his mouth then chuckled. "Because of me?" there was some amusement now.

You nodded before folding your arms and turning away. "Yes, daddy was very mean to me. So I have to be on my best behavior." you explained.

There was a spark under Doflamingo's skin from that little peek into your bedroom business. He still liked how that word rolled off your tongue though. He grinned. "I see. Well, I'm sorry princess. I have some more bad news for you though." you looked up at him confused. "I'm afraid I have to let you go. Can't have so many on the wait staff especially one that attracts so much attention."

Your heart dropped for a moment. Of course, you had considered leaving Doflamingo's shadow, but you were still putting that plan together. It was a backup really. You didn't think that you would need to go running to Crocodile so soon especially after tiptoeing between the two men. It seemed as if Crocodile was right about you being tossed to the side by Doflamingo. It sped your anxiety up knowing that there were challenges coming your way.

"Wait, Mr. Donquixote! I can't go yet- I," you stopped after his hand was held up. You turned your head slightly as the man stood before you. Even leaning onto his desk, he was still quite tall and loomed over you.

He grinned as he ran his gaze up your body. "Fufufu, no need to fret little one. I just have a more important assignment for you is all."

You processed his words for a moment before slowly nodding. "What's the assignment?"

~~~

"A spy?" Robin chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and laughed. "Oh my gosh, you're so dramatic! I'm not a spy. I'm just going to be confirming some information for him." you held up a button-up in front of yourself. "How does this look?"

Robin smiled. "Great!" You beamed before tossing it to the sales rep who was following you two around. "I can't believe Croco-san is letting you go."

"I'm not."

You simply laughed as you stood on your tippy-toes and kissed him on the cheek. "You said you were happy I wasn't going to parading around 'that bird.'" you mimicked his voice.

"That doesn't mean you get to work for him still. You work for-,"

"I," you interrupted "am a freelance worker. You agreed to that." Crocodile exhaled a puff of smoke, annoyed. "Besides, Robin-chan is going to be helping me out. It's nothing shady. It's work for the business you three own."

"It's Doflamingo; there's always something." Crocodile mumbled. He shook his head as he reached into his suit coat for his wallet. "As long as he knows who you come home to."

You did a twirl and beamed. "Yay, I have the best bosses." you joked.

Crocodile's jaw twitched. This woman...

~~~

I want to work for both of them. I want to be spoiled (crying emoji)

I don't know how much I like this add-on tbh, but thank you for reading! I hope the Crocodile fans enjoy at least. He's so yummy!

#one piece #one piece x reader #crocodile #crocodile x reader #donquixote doflamingo #one piece fanfiction #mine #stewie writes #partyanimal167

[detectiveichijouji]

How would you guys react if Tai, Daisuke, and Takeru suddenly vanished? Like, up and gone, with almost no trace, not knowing what actually happened.

The Day Taichi, Daisuke and Takeru went missing for a whole day… They all just went into panic mode – Had Ken, Iori, Jou and Sora trying to contain their panik fiesta but it wouldn’t work very well.

It all started because Yamato friggin entered the Koushiro’s office KICKING the door in despair screaming HAS ANYONE SEEN TAKERU TODAY?? HE DIDN’T MESSAGE ME SINCE YESTERDAY!!

Koushiro says Taichi had sent them a message yesterday about having something IMPORTANT to say but he never answered past 1 AM. Miyako believes it was Arsenemon’s fault. Iori thinks it might be another reason, and Mimi wonders if they got a triple date with people they have a crush on (Hikari: Are you implying Daisuke-kun would like someone else than me??)

Jou think they might have forgotten their phones at home (Ken: Would all of them do it at the same time!? | Iori: I suppose Taichi-san and Daisuke-san would, but I’d be surprised if Takeru-san did forget his phone at home too… | Yamato: TAKERU NEVER FORGETS HIS PHONE AT HOME, I KNOW IT I’M HIS BROTHER!)

Sora’s theory is that they’re in a place with too much noise that they can’t hear their phones ringing… Or are on silent mode. Hikari thinks this is plausible, because sometimes she can’t hear her phone ringing in the middle of the crowd in Shibuya Crossroad.

Miyako keeps insisting it’s Arsenemon’s fault, only to get a Calling Card saying… “Nope. Try again, mademoiselle Miyako 😐” – mysteriously Noel pops in seconds later because he was instructed by Daisuke to come gather with them, and then Daisuke suddenly stopped messaging him.

None of the Older Chosen know Noel, but they just accept he’s just another of Daisuke & co’s friends. Ken suspects Noel of eavesdropping on them. Noel denies, and shows his phone – The last message Daisuke sent was last night, telling him to gather with the group for something. Iori knows Noel is just a recent Chosen Child, so he assumed Daisuke wanted to introduce them to Noel.

(Soleil and Lune are not there, and they don’t give a frick to Taichi, Daisuke and Takeru either. None of their business. However Noel does care about Daisuke and Takeru, and to some extent Taichi – Daisuke’s friends are his friends in some way)

Everyone was losing their minds, having wild guesses for HOURS until Yamato started calling the police, Miyako and Koushiro trying to ask the Chosen Network, Sora and Jou trying so desperately to keep everyone CALM but getting headaches, Mimi teasing Hikari even more with the idea of the three boys being on a mixer in secret, Ken and Iori just believing Noel might be lying to them about further details WHEN…!

The door opens. Taichi, Daisuke and Takeru come in with snacks and a cake. It was a surprise for Hikari but all they see is CHAOS AND EVERYTHING BURNING. (No, the digimon didn’t set things on fire, they were just also arguing between each other about what happened to the trio and Agu-Vee-Pata too)

Yamato SCREAMS “WHERE DID YOU GO TAKERU!? WHY DIDN’T YOU MESSAGE ME THIS MORNING!?” – Takeru answers he was out with Taichi and Daisuke, but then Daisuke squints at Taichi, who was the one supposed to gather everyone for the surprise PARTY AND….

Nope. Taichi forgot to send the message talking about HIKARI’S SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY to everyone but Hikari herself. Hikari then smirks at Mimi, “See, they weren’t on a mixer, I know none of them would enjoy that kind of activity!!”

Everyone is now staring at Taichi. So, the important thing Taichi wanted to tell them was that? Oh it was to celebrate Hikari’s birthday (Sept 26) and HE DID NOT SEND THE FRIGGIN MESSAGE!? Taichi protested that it was too late and he was tired from work.

Crisis averted, they had a double feature party – one for Hikari’s birthday, and one to introduce Noel into the group.

The End.

#02 team mail box #no drawings this time i'm just lazing around.