#Quality Assurance Robotics

[dynaloginc]

Revolutionizing Quality Control with Robotic Inspections: The Dynalog Difference

In a manufacturing world that moves faster than ever, achieving precision, quality, and efficiency is no longer optional; it is mandatory. As industries gain automation and production lines gain speed, the need for innovative solutions such as robotic inspection has grown exponentially. This is why Dynalog-US has a significant role in the industry by coming to the forefront with unique robotic inspection systems that will change the framework of how businesses keep their production consistent and quality maintained.

What is Robotic Inspection?

Robotic inspection is using automated robots to inspect, measure, and validate parts or products before or after the production process. These robots will have sensors, cameras, and software that can detect minor defects, deviations, or inaccuracies that human inspectors may overlook.

Unlike traditional inspection processes, robotic inspection provides various elements such as consistent, high speed, and extremely accurate capabilities to make sure every product meets exact specifications. Robotic inspections are rapidly becoming important aspects of the manufacturing process in automotive, aerospace, electronics, or heavy machinery.

Why Choose Dynalog for Robotic Inspection?

Dynalog-US is far more than a robotics company. For decades, we have led the way in robot calibration, robot performance testing, and now into robotic inspection. The systems are engineered to not just find defects but also give actionable data to help manufactures improve their overall production method and process. 

Here are some of the reasons Dynalog is different:

1. True Accuracy

At Dynalog we have developed robotic inspection solutions that are designed to be exact. Using technologies such as 3D laser scanning and enhanced vision systems, we can find defects to a fraction of a millimeter. This data helps manufacturers confirm that each component is built exactly to specifications to avoid the consequences of recalls and warranty claims.

2. Real Time Data Feedback

Dynalog robotic inspection excels in providing real time inspection feedback. Our robotic inspection systems are capable of not only finding defects, they can evaluate them instantly and report them to the operators, or manufacturing execution systems (MES).  This instantaneous feedback allows manufacturing teams to correct the defect immediately while the robot is still inspecting, thus avoiding downtime, and preventing any defective products from continuing down the manufacturing process.

3. Flexibility In Manufacturing

Every industry has different challenges, whether it's challenging aerospace components, sensitive medical devices, or rugged automotive and electronics-derived components, they all have difficulties in meeting specifications. Robotic inspection is rapidly becoming the answer to not only inspection but preventative quality failure.

The Future of Robotic Inspection

As manufacturing technology advances, it will also place new and different demands and challenges on inspection systems. The future clearly points to more automation in the robotic inspection process, more integrated and smarter AI, and better systems for identifying defects and defects types.

Dynalog is already ahead of these trends- we have invested heavily in R&D so our robotic inspection solutions are at the forefront of emerging technology. Our mission is straightforward: we want to help companies maintain the highest quality product standards while improving efficiency and reducing costs.

There are trends already shaping the future of robotic inspection like:

AI-Driven Defect Recognition: Using machine learning to help robots better recognize complex or rare defects.

Better 3D Scanning: Work will be done to increase the speed and resolution of 3D scans for better inspections.

Predictive Maintenance: As robotic inspection technologies will be looking for defects and determining quality, our robotic inspectors may also be suggesting when machines on the line are in need of maintenance.

Simply put, when working with Dynalog because they are creating tomorrow’s solutions, today!

Uses of Dynalog's Robotic Inspection Systems

Dynalog's systems are utilized in a diverse range of industries. 

Here are some examples: Automotive: Inspecting car bodies, engines and transmission components for dimensional accuracy and surface imperfections. 

Aerospace: Verifying the requirements of critical components are satisfied meeting the strictest tolerances.

Electronics: Inspecting PCB assemblies and electronic enclosures for microscopic defects.

Medical Devices: Ensuring the careful manufacturing of life-saving equipment.

Heavy Equipment: Ensuring alignment and integrity of large complex parts.

These examples illustrate the importance of robotic inspection in safeguarding brand reputation and providing reliability to users.

Why Robotic Inspection Makes Sense Financially

The implementation of robotic inspection isn't only about achieving higher quality — it is also financially beneficial. The major financial advantages are:Decreased Labor Costs: By employing an automated system, costly manual inspection teams can be avoided.Reduced Time to Market: With robotic inspection time in inspection is reduced which translates into shorter inspection and manufacturing cycles.Decreased Risk of Product Defects: Early detection of defects can prevent significant recalls or liability disputes.Increased Customer Satisfaction: By consistently manufacturing high-quality products, trust with customers is established and enhanced.

As the demands of modern manufacturing continue to increase robotic inspection has moved from a privileged option to an unquestioned requirement as a manufacturing partner. Companies that realize this will be better off in the long run.

[danieldavidreitberg]

🔍 AI is revolutionizing quality assurance, perfecting every pixel with precision! Say goodbye to errors & hello to flawless results. 🚀✨

AI #QualityAssurance #TechInnovation #Automation Daniel Reitberg

[monster-disaster]

For monsters would robots or mechs be considered under the umbrella? If so I'd love to see one of those

robot!2000 x human!Reader Good to know: smut, filming

A/N: I'm not sure they count as monsters, but we don't care about it here, so here it is:

-

"Are you sure it won't hurt me?"

"It'll be fine, Y/N," the director says, holding up a sleek, black remote. A tiny red light blinks at its center. "See? I can turn it off anytime. You've got nothing to worry about."

His words don’t entirely soothe the flutter of nerves tightening in your stomach, but you decide to let it slide. Instead, you take a steadying breath and let your gaze drift to the set. They've dressed it as a bedroom this time, with warm, earthy tones and fabrics that seem to glow under the studio lights. A plush comforter and layers of silky throws drape over the bed in the center. Their textures and hues are softened by the bright glow. It’s familiar and ordinary, yet there’s one aspect that pulls your gaze: the robot. Perched at the edge of the bed, it sits still and silent. Its steel-blue body catches the light in sharp reflections. Its hard lines and edges define a shape that’s more machine than man. Where eyes should be, two glassy lenses stare blankly ahead, they are more like headlights than anything else. There's no nose, no lips, just a featureless mask of metal. The craftsmanship is impressive, each seam welded with care, every surface polished to a mirror-like sheen, but despite the quality, it’s still unlike anything you’ve worked with before.

"It’s just a trial run, Y/N," the director assures you, a touch of seriousness entering his voice. He knows you are hesitating. "And remember, we can stop at any moment. You are in control."

"Yeah," you reply with a sigh. There's still a thread of doubt in your mind, but a spark of curiosity flickers to life as well. How would this even work? What would it feel like? Your imagination spirals through possibilities that feel both thrilling and unsettling.

“Think of it as a high-tech vibrator with some... extras," someone quips from the crew, breaking the tension. You let out a huff of laugh at the absurdity of it all but still feel yourself relax a little. Looking at it now, cold and mechanical, it’s actually easier to imagine it as an oversized toy than a person.

"Alright, let's begin," you finally say, shrugging the soft robe off your shoulders and letting it pool at your feet. Bare and exposed, you cross the set with slow, deliberate steps.

Though you've been on sets like this many times before, it feels strangely unfamiliar now. There’s an odd hollowness to the room; you’re acutely aware of being alone in front of the cameras. Each lens is trained intently on you, capturing your every movement. Before, there was always someone by your side to share the stage with.

But now, it’s just you and… it.

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you can’t help but glance back and forth between the crew behind the lights and the motionless hulk of metal before you. It sits there, rigid and silent. You feel its presence but can’t shake how empty it seems.

After a moment, you call out, "What should I do?" You squint toward the lights, knowing the director is there, though you can’t make him out through the brightness.

"Get to know it better," he replies smoothly, his tone both encouraging and calm. "I won’t turn it on until you say so."

"Does it have a name?" you ask, stepping closer until your leg brushes his knees. It's cold against your skin.

"Two Thousand, for short."

"Still a mouthful," you mutter, earning a snort from somewhere off-set, and you roll your eyes with a chuckle of your own.

Turning your attention back to the robot, you take a cautious step forward, positioning yourself between its legs. The metal frame looms over you, so still that it feels both fragile and imposing. You shuffle carefully, aware of every inch of space, worried that a single misstep might send it toppling.

"Okay, 2K," you murmur, almost to yourself. Standing there, bare under the watchful eyes of the cameras, you feel a strange vulnerability with something that doesn’t even acknowledge your presence.

The lights catch the robot’s exterior, highlighting its metallic shell in shifting hues of steel and blue. With a slight tremble, you reach out, fingers brushing its cold face, feeling the smoothness of its mask-like surface. It doesn’t give under your touch; no warmth, no softness. Your fingertips trace along the hard lines and rigid contours, searching for something familiar, something human, or monster, that isn't there. Each feature is crafted with an almost unsettling precision, as though whoever designed it aimed to capture a form but left out the essence. One of your hands trails down from the robot’s face to touch its shoulder, feeling the ridges and seams where each piece of the outer shell connects.

"Alright, 2K," you whisper, inching closer. Your fingers explore further down, testing how it might feel to embrace this odd, unyielding body. Its chest is solid, a sleek, polished surface that feels strangely impersonal, and yet… as your hands slide over its torso, you can sense the immense complexity beneath the exterior, the intricate network of wires and mechanisms that make it tick. A part of you wants to press your ear to its chest, to see if you can hear something, a hum, a pulse, anything that might hint at life within this shell, but you know you would find nothing.

"I'm ready," you murmur, glancing up at the cameras and bright lamps surrounding you. The weight of their gaze feels heavier now as if just remembering that you are not alone. At least, not entirely. You give a small nod toward the lights. "You can turn it on."

A moment passes, and you catch a slight flicker behind the robot's eyes as the director presses a button on the remote. The room holds its breath, the silence thickening as you watch the lifeless machine come to life.

Slowly, there’s a shift. The machine’s joints emit a faint whirring sound as it adjusts its stance, trying to seem relaxed and comfortable. The blue lights in its eyes brighten, and its head lifts a little. Though you can't be sure, it feels like its unblinking gaze is fixed on you with a weight that wasn't there a moment ago. It’s subtle, but there’s a presence now, an awareness that sends a ripple through the air.

“Hello, 2K,” you say. Your voice is softer now, almost like a whisper. You reach out again, feeling the same cold metal under your fingertips, but this time, it’s as if the machine acknowledges your touch, its head tilting slightly in response.

"It can't speak yet," the director interjects, cutting through the charged atmosphere. "It can understand what you say, but we still need some programming before it's finished."

You nod, absorbing this information. "And what should we do?" Your voice is steady but laced with uncertainty. In any other filming scenario, you could rely on the other actor to take the lead, to help you navigate the scene if you feel lost, but right now, the only companion you have is the robot who merely sits on the bed, staring at you silently.

The director clears his throat, his gaze shifting from the monitor back to you. "Just engage with it. Think of it as a scene with a living character."

You nod slowly, but when you’re sure the cameras can’t capture your expression, you can’t help but grimace. It’s definitely easier said than done. The concept of treating this cold, unfeeling machine as if it were alive feels impossible.

You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the nervous energy buzzing in your veins. "Okay, 2K," you sigh again with a hint of determination in your voice. “Help me make this interesting.”

Your words seem to reach deeper than you thought they would because the next second, its, no, it doesn’t feel right anymore, his hands lift from his hard thighs, palms smoothing over your hips with a surprising gentleness.

"Oh," you gasp, taken aback by the shock and coldness of his touch.

“Told you it can understand you,” the director says with a hint of laughter dancing in his voice.

You blink, trying to process what just happened. “Yeah,” you breathe out. “Okay.”

The robot’s hands remain on your hips, steady and firm, yet the way they linger carries a strange tenderness. The cool metal against your skin becomes a focal point, heightening your senses, and making the world around you fade away just a little.

“Let’s see where this goes,” you say. “So, what now? Do you have a plan, or are we just improvising?” You mean it as a joke, but the robot reacts anyway.

The whirring sound grows louder, a mechanical hum resonating through the air as his grip on your hip tightens just enough to pull you onto his lap. Another shocked gasp escapes your lips as you feel the hard edges of his frame press against your own soft thighs. The contrast is startling yet strangely thrilling.

"We have to do something with the sound," some murmurs in the background.

Your hands instinctively find their place on his wide shoulders, fingers curling into the smooth surface of his metallic body. The way he holds you is surprisingly secure, his grip firm yet gentle, as if he’s navigating the balance between strength and caution.

“Okay, 2K,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, a playful challenge underlying your tone. “What’s your next move?”

His hand from your side slips up to your breast, gently exploring the softness of your flesh in his cold grip. The contrast of his metallic touch against your skin sends a ripple of sensation through you, hardening your nipple instantly. You hold your breath, the moment feeling both intimate and surreal as his fingertips glide over the underside, tracing the outline in careful exploration.

“Oh,” you murmur with a hint of chuckle. “You’re definitely more curious than I expected.”

You lean into him more, allowing yourself to embrace the moment. “Show me what you’ve got,” you say playfully.

Your heart races with anticipation, but his response is immediate. You feel his grip shift slightly, adjusting his hold around you so you sink more against him.

“What do you think of this?” you ask, cupping your breasts and pressing them together in a way that angles them for the cameras, ensuring they catch the moment. “Do you like it?” You try to shake off the awkwardness that comes from the robot’s silence, the lack of an audible answer hanging in the air tensely. Instead of words, 2K reaches out again. His movements are smooth and deliberate. His thumbs glide over your skin, brushing against your nipples. The coolness of his metal touch contrasts sharply with the warmth of your body.

“Wow,” you breathe out, caught off guard by how responsive he is, despite his silence. His exploration feels almost intimate as if he’s not just following instructions but genuinely interacting with you. You instinctively arch toward him, craving more of his curious touch.

The cameras continue to roll, capturing every word and every movement, but the watchful eyes are slipped to the back of your mind by now.

“Let’s move on,” the director says quietly. His voice cut through the haze of your focus. As usual, you want to follow his instruction without hesitation, but as you glance down between your bodies, you find… nothing. Your eyes widen in recognition, and confusion washes over you.

“Where- where is his dick?” you stammer, looking up at the bright lights as if they might offer some explanation for the sudden gap in your understanding, but before anyone can reply, the 2K reacts. With a smooth mechanical grace and a whirring sound, the plates beneath the sleek metal of its abdomen slide apart. His cock emerges, firm and gleaming. It juts out between your bodies, stealing your breath away for several seconds.

"This guy is full of surprises, isn't it?" You ask, almost laughing.

The director hums with a chuckle. "I believe you know what you have to do from now on."

A few silent seconds stretch out before you finally speak up again. “But how does it work? Does he need to consent? I mean-"

“Y/N, it’s a robot... he’s really just a giant vibrator."

“Yeah, but-" The longer you look at him, the more difficult it becomes to see him as just a hunk of metal, especially when his smooth, mechanical hands start to caress your bare skin. He draws delicate circles on your sides, the touch sending shivers up your spine, and gently pulls at your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to elicit a gasp from your lips. Each calculated movement blurs the lines between machine and human, igniting a flicker of warmth within you that makes it impossible to ignore the growing excitement.

"I think we can call it consent," somebody says in the background with a touch of surprise in his voice when the robot grips your hips firmly, lifting you slightly off his lap just enough to glide his cock across your damp folds. The cold touch on your heated center sends a ripple over your spine and your hands tighten on his shoulders with anticipation. You feel weightless in his strong grasp as he effortlessly supports your body, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he begins to ease you down onto his length. Each inch of him stretches you, testing your limits, and you can’t help but feel grateful for the preparation you did before filming. He slips inside you with surprising ease, filling you completely until every inch of his erection is enveloped within you. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you wiggle against him, seeking friction and fueled by a surge of curiosity. The coolness of his metallic form contrasts sharply with the warmth radiating from your center, creating a tantalizing sensation that dances between discomfort and pleasure.

"I want a close-up," the director says to someone.

As you adjust to the fullness, your body instinctively reacts, contracting around him, eager for more. With each subtle shift of your hips, your breath hitches in your throat. The robot responds to your movements, adapting to your rhythm with uncanny precision. His hands remain firmly on your hips, guiding you gently as you rock against him, drawing out moans that echo in the quiet room.

You can sense the curiosity of those watching, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them. It's new to them too.

You lean back slightly, arching your back for the camera as 2K's shaft glides in and out of you. Each thrust pushes you higher, and you can feel the pulse of desire building within you, throbbing and urging for more. You feel every subtle shift, every thrust, as he adapts to your movements. His body responds seamlessly to your desires. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you so completely, sends waves of pleasure radiating through your entire being. You feel like a raw nerve, perched on his lap with his arms around you, holding you and guiding you up and down on his cock. You rock your hips against him, half-delirious, seeking that perfect angle that sends your pleasure soaring. You feel him respond once again, adjusting his hold around you as his movements become more urgent, more insistent. He matches your rhythm, driving deeper into your bouncing heat.

In the back of your mind, you are still aware of the cameras filming you, and you try to do what you usually do for the right angles and records, but every fiber within you urges you to be selfish and chase your pleasure.

You bite your lip, stifling a moan as you feel the tension coiling tightly in your abdomen. Your breaths come in quick, shallow gasps, mingling with the soft, whirring sounds of the robot. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt before, a blend of raw human desire and robotic precision for your pleasure.

You grip his shoulders tighter. Your nails scratch over the smooth, metal surface. “I’m close,” you croak out. Urgency laces your voice, but before you can finish the sentence, something shifts. A high-pitched moan escapes your lips as you jolt on his length. The moment the robot's cock begins to vibrate, the world around you blurs, and all thought evaporates in your foggy mind.

The vibrations travel through you like a current, sending shockwaves of pleasure from your core. Each pulse ignites your senses, overwhelming you in the best possible way. Instinctively, you arch your back more, pressing down on him harder. The metal surface of his erection, once cool, now feels alive against your heated walls. The rhythmic buzz amplifies every movement, and with each thrust, you swear you can feel the vibration in your pussy on the tip of your fingers too.

You can’t hold back the sounds spilling from your lips in a maddening rhythm. It feels as if the entire world has narrowed down to this one electrifying moment. Your breaths come faster, more desperate, each gasp mingling with the mechanical hum of the robot.

You are teetering on the edge, and then, with one final surge of vibrations and powerful thrusts, you feel it. Your body trembles as the pleasure crashes through you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and blissfully adrift in your climax.

As your mind clears enough for you to lift your head from the robot’s shoulder, you gaze up at the director, noticing that the lights have dimmed slightly, casting a softer glow over the room. “How was it?” you ask breathlessly, still suspended in the remains of your incredible release. You can feel your pussy still fluttering around his rigid cock, instinctively trying to milk something more, craving that sweet sensation once again.

The man watching from his seat smirks with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “I think it will work.”

[noljabae]

House Husband | Park Seonghwa x Reader

"For all intents and purposes, I feel real. I feel alive."

SUMMARY: You wanted a personal assistant model. To your horror, the one your parents got you shows up in a plexiglass case with the words "House Husband!" splattered across the front in gold glitter.

PAIRING: Android!Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Sci-fi/Fantasy, Romance, Angst

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Smut (18+, MDNI), Androids (robots that look and feel human), Human-Android Sex, Fingering, Shower Sex, Oral (f + m receiving), Vaginal, Unprotected Sex (wrap it up irl!!), Soft Dom Seonghwa, Cheating (not by mc/ml), Divorce (again, not mc/ml), Choking (violence, not sexual), Spanking, Creampie, Existential Crises, AMBIGUOUS/TWIST ENDING

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

All you'd wanted was a personal assistant.

Your parents had bothered you for years now to invest in an android. Most households had at least one these days. Your younger sister and her new husband loved their butler model.

"You live alone in Myeongdong and work full-time with your online business or whatever it is you do!" your mother argued one day. "Surely you don't do all the chores, do you? When was the last time you mopped your kitchen, young lady?"

"Last week!" you fired back, knowing full well a year had come and gone since you'd done something so time consuming as mopping.

Your parents knew the truth. Your whole family did. You lived a decent life, had a decent freelance job, and partook in social activities regularly (albeit online). But your home life was... messy.

More than just dirty dishes piling up in the sink, clothes going unwashed, and bed going unmade, you just simply didn't make time for yourself.

You were... unhappy.

You had a good life on paper, but you'd be damned if you hadn't dreamed of doing something more. Being something more. Not just working a desk job and whittling away the hours in a cushy apartment.

Existential dread loomed in your thoughts frequently. You spent hours leaping into fantasy media, drowning the eerie discomfort which had settled into your bones sometime after college graduation.

The one thing that tethered you to reality had been work.

You didn't love your work, and your work certainly didn't love you, but it was a quiet constant. A regular pattern of scoping out new clients, making estimates, designing apps, getting paid. It was simple. Mundane. But enough to keep you busy and from becoming a hermit entirely.

So when your parents broke you down, finally offering to buy you an android for the Winter festival, you told them you'd consider a personal assistant.

It would speed up your output. That's what you told yourself.

You could have it filter through hundreds of potential clients in the time it would take you to do one. It could make price sheets and code app foundations in just a few mechanical heartbeats. You'd just have to oversee it, guide it in the direction you wanted your business to take, tweak its ideas for quality assurance, and you'd be making triple... no--quadruple what you made now.

You were honestly kind of excited. This could be your next big thing. The next milestone of your life. You could be on your way to becoming somebody.

So when you ripped back the packaging of the tall, coffin-like box, your your brows shot up into your hairline and your jaw dropped to the floor.

They hadn't. Your parent's just hadn't, there was no way they'd do this to you--

"Surprise, sweetie!" your father exclaimed, coming closer to put his hand on your shoulder. "You're finally going to have a clean home!"

The model they'd gotten you wasn't a personal assistant at all.

Instead, you were suddenly face to face with a unit labeled House Husband! in glittering gold letters.

Behind the clear packaging, an elegant android rested frozen on its display stand. You noted its face--the sweeping, broad planes of its cheekbones and its plush lips. The long, raven-black hair. It was much more... delicate than the sample assistant models you'd looked at online. You frowned as you read the label again.

You flinched, muscles going taught when you realized what they'd done.

"Guys... I asked for a personal assistant... This-I-It's too much! I don't want this!" you stammered, heat rising to your cheeks.

Your mother took you up in her arms and cooed, "Shhh, it's okay, honey. Just give it a try, won't you? For us?"

From somewhere over your shoulder, your sister's husband, a man she'd met in college named Junhyeong, snickered. You wanted to fly over to his spot on the couch and punch him, but that was decidedly not in the spirit of the Winter festival.

"Please, honey. We're worried about your health and safety. Maybe he'll even get you out of the house!" your dad added, a proud gleam in his eye.

You groaned. Your parents really thought they were doing the right thing for you. They wanted you to be happy. It just so happened they had a horrible misunderstanding of what would accomplish that.

But they both gave you their best doe-eyed looks, their hands joining and voices pleading with you.

"Fine," you huffed, "I guess it wouldn't hurt to have clean laundry."

Your parents embraced you lovingly and called in their butler android, a tall model specialized in personal protection they'd named Yunho.

The butler calmly undid the pressure-locked screws and removed the hard, clear case. You caught of a glimpse of him--your new house husband--without a surface between you for the first time.

When he opened his eyes, your breath caught in your throat. All the models were designed to be handsome, but this one looked positively ethereal.

"Hello, who will I be attending?" he asked, voice smooth and deep.

You blinked as your family stared at you in silence, waiting for you to speak. To claim him. "Establish your authority," you recalled one of the pamphlets explaining.

You coughed awkwardly. "Th-that would be me," you uttered eventually. His eyes found yours with warmth you were astonished to see he had.

"I'm Y/n L/n. This is my family," you explained, mimicking the introductions you'd seen your family members do before with their own models.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," he said before turning to Yunho, watching as the other android unhooked him from the display stand.

Finally free to move, he stepped away from the box and toward your side, a soft smile on his face. Even out of the box, he was still several inches taller than you.

Your other family members and all the androids present introduced themselves, too. You found yourself eyeing him, still shocked after all this time at how real and lifelike their movements were. How his skin looked like the softest flesh and his hair gently swung as he made miniscule shifts with his body.

"Any ideas for a name, honey?" your mother asked as the room had settled.

You frowned and looked up at the droid's face again, assessing its features. His eyes were sharp and narrowed but everything else about his face was soft and inviting, down to the slight curve of his nose and the part of his lips.

And yet, you could see subtle power in his frame, too. His shoulders were broad and sloping while his clothing fit snugly around well-developed muscles and a willowy waist...

He was a living statue of contradicting features--a beautiful clash of masculine and feminine forms.

You thought of the Korean name for the Roman God of War and masculinity, Hwaseong. The android had been made male, designed surely with certain parts bestowed by his creators, and yet they'd also given him space to dare and challenge it. Like some sort of poetic, androgynous deity from ancient times.

"Seonghwa," you said, delight immediately evident on the husband model's face.

"Seonghwa," he repeated, breathless and eyes shining like he'd been given a precious gift.

It made your stomach curl. The emotion he could display was unreal. You didn't think any of your family's other models could look so... so endeared.

You gave him a sheepish smile and did your best to get through the rest of the all-day celebration.

Seonghwa was mostly quiet, observing and learning everything he possibly could about his new family. When you finally started to clean up the wrapping paper and gift bags, he sprang into action with Yunho and your sister's butler model, San.

You tried not to watch. To not stare at the three androids as they worked together, quietly talking amongst themselves like they could be real, having authentic conversations and engaging in meaningful social interaction.

That was definitely another reason you'd avoided getting yourself an android for so long. It unsettled you. How much they could feel and think and move like a human. You'd heard cases of androids getting attached to their owners, of something the manufacturers argued over and over was not love. There were whispers of legislation for recognizing human-android domiciles.

You'd also heard horror stories from around the world. Androids getting violent toward abusive owners. Some stalking previous owners, even sabotaging new replacement androids. Some decommissioning themselves.

Goosebumps erupted over your skin. You didn't want to think about it. But now, in a way, you had to. Seonghwa, no matter how autonomous he'd been coded to be, was now your responsibility.

Speaking of the droid, he looked back at you in between chores, a goofy grin decorating his lips. He'd been laughing at something San had said in a low tone.

When he met your eyes he faltered, as if sensing your discomfort. You forced yourself to give him a reassuring smile, no matter how small.

Satisfied, a lingering mirth danced in his eyes and he continued on, asking Yunho softly where the vacuum was.

All you could do was watch.

Hours later, stuffed full of meat and carbs and wine, your family began to wind down.

Your sister and her husband left first. San trailed behind them with all their gifts like a loyal foot soldier. You watched Seonghwa and Yunho bid him goodnight as well, their faces warm and glowing from the interaction.

"You'll have to tell us how it goes, sweetie," your mother said, wrapping you in a tight hug.

"And invite us over soon when your apartment is clean!" your father added, clapping Seonghwa on the back.

He didn't flinch but slid a nervous gaze past your father's shoulder to you. Your stomach twisted violently as you tried to shoot him another reassuring grin.

"Y-yeah, of course. Thank you again," you said to your parents, eager to go home and unwind. Your social battery had been entirely depleted.

Seonghwa stepped forward to grab your gifts and you scrunched your nose when both your parents wordlessly draped several bags around his arms.

As he stepped back by your side, you grabbed some of the bags--what you could carry all the way home, anyway.

Seonghwa eyed you questioningly, but you shook your head with a smile when he opened his mouth to say something.

When the quick moment was over, you turned back and said your final goodbyes to your parents.

"Bye Seonghwa," you heard Yunho say as you crossed the threshold.

Your new house husband turned over his shoulder, flashing a dazzling grin to the other android in response.

Your heart fluttered at the sight. He was devastatingly attractive with that big, toothy grin and he walked with a candid elegance you couldn't help envy. Like he was completely unaware of how gracefully he moved and how his eyes lit up like he'd been caught in a dream.

"Where is your home?" he asked, turning to you. His eyes softened as he realized you'd already been looking at him--been staring at him like he was a god, really--for several moments.

"On the North side. We'll take a car," you said, finally snapping your jaw shut and clearing your head.

"Okay," he said, directing that wide smile to you now. "I liked your family," he added.

His happy chatter surprised you. It was a stark contrast to the more docile figure he'd cut in your parents' home.

"I'm glad! I guess we'll be seeing more of them," you noted. You turned to him again, lips pursed. "I'm sorry my dad slapped your back. It looked pretty hard."

Seonghwa shook his had. "It's fine. Just caught me off guard."

A car approached the driveway and you shimmied your watch out from under the bags strapped across your wrist.

"Here, let me," Seonghwa muttered as he dove for the bags causing you trouble, promptly sliding them along his arm.

You thanked him and prayed he didn't see the stubborn pink blush heating your cheeks. (Who were you kidding? He was an android. Of course he saw it.)

"Okay, that's the car, let's go," you announced after studying the green check mark that lit up your watch.

You piled into the passenger cabin and watched as he stowed the bags naturally, as if he'd done it hundreds of times.

The automated car took off, programmed to take you the thirty minutes across town needed to get to your apartment. You watched the warm lights of your parents' neighborhood blink away and grow into the tall, cold pillars of the city.

"It would've been easier if you'd let me carry them all from the start," he said a few minutes later into the trip. You jumped, looking over, your hand over your heart. "Oh, my bad, sorry." His hair shook as he reached out to steady you, assessing your well-being.

"I didn't want to make you take all the bags," you muttered as you calmed, a bit thankful when his hand didn't quite touch you.

"Hmm, well, it's quite literally my job, so. Let me."

You gaped up at him, unsettled by his easy, casual speech. God, he seemed so real. It made you flounder for your next words.

"A-Aren't I your boss? Or something like that?" you scratched your chin. "You should listen to me if I don't want you to do something."

You'd said the words before thinking about how he could take them--how they could make them feel. You didn't want to give him an order; didn't want to make him feel forced to do anything.

But his eyes glistened in the moonlight reflected across the windows. "You're cute when you're flustered."

You practically leapt out of your skin at his words. Heat went straight to your cheeks and ears, but also to your core. You swallowed hard, trying to pinch yourself back to reality.

"Can you please tell me what exactly is included in the husband model?" you asked, voice high and strung tight like a steel wire.

Seonghwa chuckled, leaning back in the seat and bracing one arm along the car window. Your heart hammered in your chest when he met eyes with you. Dark orbs pierced yours in a way you knew he could see straight through you.

"House husband," he corrected, offering you a knowing smile. He mercifully answered you instead of dragging out the blush on your face. "And it includes whatever you want. There's a few things hard-wired into me. I like to clean. I like to cook." He shrugged. "I won't say no to romance."

You blinked at him, a brow arching into the sky. "Romance?" you repeated like it was a foreign word.

He nodded. "You know, the husband part of the deal?" he clarified, a teasing brow raised right back at you.

"R-right, well," you cleared your throat and wrung your hands together. "I'm not sure how necessary that part will be."

"It can be anything you want," he said, eyes softer now, taking pity on your shaking form. "We can watch TV together. Play games... just chat. Cuddles are on the table, too, of course."

You bit your lip. "Is.. Is that what you want?" you asked him directly just as the car soared over a bridge and the large windows showed off a vast panorama of the city lights. The Han River glittered back up at you.

But Seonghwa's eyes were locked on you. "More than anything," he answered. "I just want to make you happy."

His words sent goosebumps across your skin, but you clung onto your logic. "But you've been programmed to say that--to want that," you argued.

"Have I?" he questioned, cocking his head. "Or have I simply been programmed to form my own opinions and desires?"

"Have you?" You insisted, voice impossibly high, and he finally laughed. It was a scoff more than anything else, but it sent shivers down your spine.

"Yes, Y/n," he smiled, once again choosing to cool your heating anxiety instead of teasing you further. "I have. Every single model comes equipped with random starting preferences and little quirks. Same with our physical appearances. Our code is so complex that we act like unique, individual people. For all intents and purposes, Y/n, I feel real. I feel alive."

You took in a sharp breath and searched his eyes. They were so real, so startlingly lifelike, you could almost believe him.

"And even if there's something in my code that makes me want to take care of you, I still get to choose how I feel. You and your family are lovely. Yunho and San had nothing but glowing things to say about you all. I want to build something with you, no matter how long it takes."

You sat there, stunned as the world moved past your vehicle in a blur.

"What if I find someone? Like I marry a real person?" you asked, watching his reaction carefully.

He nodded, still offering a small smile. "Plenty of couples agree an extra set of hands in the bedroom is a bonus feature." His smile grew teasing, curved and knowing.

You huffed a stifled laugh and turned back out to the city. Your thoughts wandered. Your house was so dirty. Surely, his great first impression of you would fade as soon as he saw al the mess.

"Let's just get you settled first," you grumbled. He hummed in agreement. The car was not unpleasantly silent the rest of the way to your building on the North side of town.

Weeks passed in no time, which turned into months. Seonghwa, true to his word, let you set the pace of your budding relationship.

As for his work, he jumped at your messy house like a kid in a candy store and had not once looked back.

He cooked and cleaned, tackling your mounds of dirty dishes and laundry in just two days. In the first week alone, he'd transformed your apartment back to how it was when you'd first moved in years ago.

When he wasn't doing chores around the house, he was by your side in some way, shape, or form (when you weren't overstimulated by his presence and requested alone time, of course).

Sometimes it was as simple as folding your laundry next to you on the couch as you watched your favorite series. Other times it was listening to you rant about clients and work, letting your complaints fall on his resourceful ears. When you wanted to vent, it was easy to just let go. When you needed help solving a problem, he was right there with you, voicing clever suggestions.

He'd grown quite comfortable around you, even napping on the chaise lounge in your office as you worked some days, face placid and calm in the dappled sunlight from the window. Other times you found him happily singing broken tunes in the kitchen, melodies all over the place.

He doted on you. Always asked if you'd had enough to eat, if there was anything you'd like better about the meal next time. He listened--really listened to you, adjusting all his routines and activities to suit your lifestyle.

When he came home with the groceries every week, he picked up a bouquet of flowers along the way, telling you how much he wanted to share them with you.

He stayed with you through the hard nights. The ones where your restless tossing and turning would wake him up from his room down the hall. He'd hold your hand until your breathing evened out and your pulse settled down.

After a few weeks, you started to grow comfortable, too. You cuddled into him on the couch after dinner, his whole body so incredibly soft and solid against you. You let him serenade you, let him sing you songs, and starting one day--let him take you outside.

You started with easy walks and trips to stores you'd been meaning to visit for years. You had picnics and rented two-seater bicycles. You checked out trendy restaurants and went to the movie theater for the first time in years.

Old friends came out of the woodwork and they were all delighted to meet him. Some even had droids of their own who happily added to the conversation. When you hung out with people, he wasn't just a fly on the wall. He was an active participant--an equal who made you all laugh and think and share ideas.

Seonghwa had become a part of you. He'd seeped into your soul and could finish your every sentence, fulfill every desire before it even occurred to you.

And one day, you couldn't imagine living without him. It was a terrifying prospect that you'd age and he'd stick around, forever, frozen in time and always ready to lend a hand. But you let him comfort some of your fears. There were procedures he could have done to make him look older. To recalibrate his metabolism and purposefully worsen his vision.

You let him hold your hand through it all. And after a while, you realized how meaningful having someone by your side was.

Sure, he did basic chores you should have already been able to do by yourself and coaxed you into activities you should have already been doing, but it was so much more than that.

You'd come to understand so much about yourself in such a short period of time. There were a whole host of new, trending topics you had opinions on. Having more energy, you picked up your productivity at work. You sought out old hobbies, finding joy in unpaid, unrecognized creation with your hands. You giggled and laughed with abandon you hadn't felt in years. You finally felt like you were becoming somebody.

And you had Seonghwa to thank for it all.

Your alarm blared and you silenced it just as a hand snaked around your waist. You let the warmth of his skin sink into your stiff ab muscles and stretched.

"Good morning, princess," he said softly. His voice was low and groggy, thick with sleep and a morning innocence. You felt his nose graze the top of your head and you shivered.

You'd almost forgotten the events of last night. You'd both had some wine and you wanted to cuddle while you fell asleep. And here he was the next morning: warm and soft and very real, if you had anything to say about it.

"Are you ready to see your family?" he asked, and suddenly the moment shattered.

"Fuck, I forgot that was tonight," you groaned, shifting to get out of bed.

But Seonghwa's arm flexed, trapping you next to him. His other hand wound its way under your waist and you found yourself caged in by your house husband. "Five more minutes," he pleaded in your ear.

You couldn't stop the blush that spread over your body like wildfire if you tried. A warmth dug into your core with the rumbling vibration of his voice that echoed through your chest.

You hadn't thought of him as an android in so long. He acted like his own person completely--he whined and teased and argued all when he felt like it. You couldn't distinguish him from a human at this point.

The thought had long since stopped making your stomach ache, but your conscience still wrestled with it.

"Let me shower, Hwa," you prodded, pushing against his strong arms. They resisted for all of a second before releasing you gently. You squeezed his forearm and stood. One of his hands lingered, tracing the curve of your body as you moved. "What time should we pick up the cake?"

He propped a hand under his head. "I told Miss Kim 11:00," then, "Are you feeling okay?"

Your feet stopped despite your mental will to continue on and get in the damn shower. "Yeah, I'm just nervous for tonight."

"Well, don't be. It''s going to be great. I can go get the cake by myself if it's too much for you," he offered.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. You'd been secretly loving when he sounded all... domestic like that.

But it also made you want to vomit. He was a walking, living pile of code. You had to drill it through your head again and again and again. You didn't dare to cross the line; didn't dare exploit him.

So you shook your head and managed to fix your posture. Tried to make your smile meet your eyes. "No, I'll go with. I just need to take a hot shower. A little tense, you know?"

Seonghwa eyed you. "...Do you want help?"

You voice caught in your throat. "What?" you squeaked.

Your house husband sat up, messy bedhead and skewed tank top revealing the delicious curves and planes of his chest and shoulders. "Let me give you a massage," he said, voice still just slightly hoarse. "In the shower."

Something in you snapped, like a cable splitting in two.

You spoke before you could take it back.

"Okay."

Heat pooled in your abdomen as he stood, giving you a lopsided grin. He ambled past you into the bathroom and all you could do was follow as he started the shower and began peeling off layers.

You'd seen him in various states of undress without meaning to. Once when he was wiping off sweat after tending to new plants he'd bought for your balcony. He'd started shirtless, but he'd pushed his waistband down, just enough to expose the dip of his pelvis and dab with a towel. You'd turned your head to look away, heart racing.

There was another time you'd come home after an early night out with a friend to find him in your bathtub. He'd claimed he wanted to experience a bubble bath, but you'd seen enough evidence that pointed to something else entirely.

Your pastel tie-dye loofah, razor, and shampoo bottle all floated beside him in the tub. And when he rose sharply out of the bath to explain himself to you, he'd forgotten or didn't care that he was naked. And hard.

You'd thought about that one for a while. You'd told him it was fine, that he could use your tub any time you'd like, just to let him know in advance next time. But the incident stuck in your mind like a virus.

Until you'd walked in on him masturbating one night.

It was your fault entirely--you hadn't knocked, hadn't even announced yourself--and you'd found him sitting up in bed. His face was as bare as the rest of his body and one of his lithe, elegant hands gripped his rock-hard cock.

You gave yourself just long enough to memorize the image before you leapt back from his doorframe, yelling an apology.

Instead of embarrassed, he'd yelled back about joining him, and you hadn't been able to look him in the eyes for a whole day after that.

You didn't know what sort of function masturbating fulfilled in his code. Nonetheless, the image of him sprawled on his bed, one hand around the phone you'd bought him and the other gripping his cock, replayed in your mind constantly.

So when he threw off his underwear and climbed into the shower, eyes looking expectantly at you, your heart skipped a beat. You tried not to ogle him. Just a quick glance with your eyes. Heat rose to your cheeks either way.

You copied him, letting your clothes fall to the floor. You'd been naked around him before more often than you thought entirely necessary, but you definitely weren't complaining.

He often liked to bathe you and massage you, asking for access to your body with a gentle respect. His eyes never roamed too far. His hands only lingered when you leaned into his touch. He respected your boundaries no matter how many times you wished deep down he would challenge them.

His gaze was reverent when you opened the shower door, but you could see the muscles in his jaw and forearm twitch. It was clear he was holding back. From what, you didn't know--but you realized you might be seconds from finding out.

You let the warm water wash over you and you sighed, genuinely relieved by the sweltering temperature.

"You're so beautiful," Seonghwa said, voice light and raspy behind you. "Have I told you that lately?"

You chuckled, a serene smile gracing your lips. "Only twice yesterday," you answered, skin tingling in the places his fingers landed.

"Oh, so not nearly enough," he murmured. It was just loud enough to hear over the soft spray of the shower.

You leaned back not only into the gentle flow of water but also his touch, his dexterous hands finding your shoulders easily. You hummed thoughtfully in the water.

"No, not nearly enough," you giggled, going along with his overt flirting for once.

Seonghwa seemed to like this, a hearty chortle escaping his chest. He gathered you in his arms, roping around your waist like a boa constrictor. He'd been bolder with his touch lately. Greedier. Hungrier. But never crossing the line.

"My apologies, love," he said easily. Naturally. "Can I make it up to you?"

You fought back a shudder as you quickly stalled. "You mean the massage?"

His nose had found its way to your shoulder, ghosting traces across your skin. "Mmhmm, that works."

You wanted to keen at his words, arch back into him and kiss sloppy marks into his jaw. But you forced the thoughts down, mind buzzing with hesitation.

You were going to lose your willpower someday. You were going to lose out to him, you just knew it.

You'd imagined what it would be like far more times than you cared to admit. You'd taken the image of him jerking off and ran, finding your dreams haunted with scenes of him bending you over your dresser. Having his way with you on the kitchen counter. Your work desk. The balcony.

His steady touch reeled you back to the present. His thumb pressed down on a knot in your shoulder and you just about collapsed against the shower wall.

"Shit, I didn't realize you'd built up so much stress," he confessed, voice laced with guilt.

You were quick to quell that part of him. "I should have asked."

The thought of him not massaging you--not helping you ease the tension in your muscles after a hard day of work--was no longer an option. He'd found his way under your skin and you couldn't decide if you were more growing more frustrated or increasingly desperate from it.

Probably both.

He pressed into a particularly tight bundle of muscle and the pain was so good a small whimper made its way out of your mouth before you could stop it.

"Shit, right there," you groaned, neck lolling back.

Seonghwa continued to rolls his thumbs across your skin in deliberate patterns, determined to loosen up your stiff muscles, but you had no idea of the effect your sounds had on him.

Not until you felt the hard length of him press against your spine. You shivered, but refused to turn around.

"Keep going, just like that," you moaned, feeling your body come alive under his touch.

"Fuck, Y/n, are you trying to ruin me?" he asked, voice sharp and deep.

You bit your lip, willing your aching hips to stay still. But you pushed.

"Maybe. I just... really like the feeling of your hands on me," you admitted. It was the most you'd ever given him.

Seonghwa's hands on your back stilled, instead pressing his fingertips into your flesh. He bent down, chin coming to rest gently in the crook of your neck. For a second, all you could hear was the steady downpour of the shower and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

"Please, Y/n," he begged softly, voice raw despite how clear it had just been moments ago. "Please let me touch you."

Heat dripped from your core and you inhaled sharply. The air crackled with electricity.

"Okay," you breathed.

And that was enough for him to let loose.

His hands jolted back into action, one tracing down the curve of your spine, the other sliding up your chest to find a supple breast to squeeze. "Tell me if you don't like anything," he instructed. He planted his soft lips right behind your ear. "And also tell me if you do."

You whimpered the most pathetic "Uh-huh," you'd ever let out in your life and bit your lip to try and keep some semblance of sanity.

The hand on your spine trailed further south, finding purchase on your hip, just as his lips latched onto your neck. His hot, wet mouth was somehow searing against the shower water and you felt your nerves evaporate. He trailed down to your shoulder and nipped softly. The breathy moan you released echoed in the bathroom and your head swam deliciously.

"I don't experience dreams when I sleep," he began, head tiling against your shoulder, "but every night I see you in my head." You swallowed thickly. "I see all the ways I want to touch you. All the places I want to put my mouth."

Your inhale was heavy. "Seonghwa--"

"No, let me finish. I'm trying to tell you this is all I've wanted for months. Not because I was made to. Not because you're my employer. But because you're you."

His mouth roamed again back up toward your cheek and the hand fondling your breast now gingerly clasped around your nipple. "You're beautiful." He planted a kiss just under your ear, along the edge of your jaw. "You're brilliant." Another kiss. "You treat everyone around you, including me, like precious treasures. But you're the real jewel." A kiss right at the pulse point of your throat. "I've been dying to show you how I feel. Will you let me?"

"Y-Yes," you gasped, any other words taken from you as he continued to devour your neck and massage your swollen nipple. His other hand finally moved, tracing down the line of your hip to your thigh.

You whimpered as the world fell away. All you could focus on were the places he touched you and the hot anticipation rising in your core.

When his fingers found your folds, you arched into him easily, no thought behind your actions now. He groaned possessively and grabbed more of you, pulling you flush against his body. His cock throbbed against the base of your spine. You groaned at it all, hips rocking into his touch.

"You're so wet for me, love," he observed. "How long have you wanted this, too? Since you saw me jerking off?"

You bit your lip as he slid a slicked finger along your clit. Maybe it would be embarrassing to tell him the truth. But you were too far gone to hold back at this point.

"Since the first day," you answered, more clarity in your voice than you'd expected.

Seonghwa's hands froze for just a few milliseconds. But you noticed.

"Since the first day, baby?" he teased in your ear. His finger nudged at your entrance, just as mocking. "You set up all these rules and boundaries between us, made me wait for six months, but you've been down bad since the first day? What, did you see me in the box and start getting wet like this?"

Your hips rolled back as your head rolled to the side, a whine ripping through you at his filthy words and nastier hands. You ground down on his finger desperately, but it was clear he was having too much fun.

"Hmm, not yet, sweetheart. I think I want to see you beg for it. You know. After all this time." You could hear the wicked grin that must have spread across his face. The groan you let out was just as sinful.

To your dismay, he suddenly pulled back. You whined at the loss but he was quick to tether you back to the moment, deftly switching hands and anchoring himself to the other side of your neck. He pinched your untouched nipple, covered in your natural lubrication, and chuckled when you squirmed.

When his other hand found your pussy, it dragged up and down, gathering slick. And just when you were sure he'd stuff another one of his long fingers inside you, no matter how little and teasing, the pad of his middle finger found your clit.

Your hips bucked into his finger and he hummed against your neck appreciatively, "So sensitive."

But he wouldn't move. Just kept his finger pad frustratingly still right up against your hooded nub.

"P-please, Hwa," you mewled, back arching helplessly into his swollen cock. You didn't even want to begin thinking about him fucking into you right now with that thing. You'd lose your mind.

But then again, you were already losing it.

"Please what? Tell me how to satisfy you, princess," he murmured into your skin.

The heat of the shower was suddenly too much in conjunction with his mouth and body and hands. Your mind fogged with the glass of the shower stall. But you spoke through it the best you could.

"Touch me, Seonghwa, please, anything--I-I need you so bad," You moaned.

"Here?" he asked, moving his middle finger against you finally. But it was haplessly languid and the tease was unbearable. Your hips trembled with the need for friction.

"Fuck! Yes," you breathed. His finger continued to move but the molasses pace was torture. You writhed under him. "P-please, Hwa, faster, I need--"

"Like this?" he questioned as he sped up, finally giving you a fraction of the friction you desired.

You shuddered and panted, your voice high, "Yes! Fuck, please, Hwa, more. I--I need you!"

"Mmm, there you go. Good girl," he hummed in your ear, teeth scraping the sensitive shell.

Finally relenting, his finger circled you faster, drawing out an orgasm that had been building under the surface for minutes now.

Your legs locked up and you had no choice but to lean back into him. He took your weight easily. As your eyelids fluttered from the attention on your swollen clit, you felt him plant adoring kisses in your hair.

"You're so beautiful like this, falling apart on a single finger." he praised you as he worked on you. You tilted your head on his shoulder and you twisted to look up at him as he spoke. "I'm so lucky I get to see you like this. So lucky I get to be yours."

His words thundered through you and you bit your lip, feeling your eyes cross as you tried to look at him properly.

"M-Mine," you whimpered back, hips rolling up to meet his finger.

The thought put you over the edge and you came with a hungry moan. Your back arched and bent, and he followed you down, rubbing his finger into your clit furiously through the waves of your orgasm.

He stilled with you finally and retracted his fingers. You couldn't think. All you wanted was him, around you, on you, in you, and nothing else mattered. You gulped--your morals were fucked.

"Seonghwa," you breathed as you came down, wind knocked out of you. You leaned back against him again as your head rushed with blood.

"Yes, baby?" he hummed, dragging kisses down the side of your face.

"I--Can I kiss you?" you asked, head turning to meet his.

You swore his eyes darkened.

And then he was kissing you with those plump lips that had formed little, red, temporary marks along your neck and shoulders. You groaned into him and he held you firmly as his hands found some part of your body to touch again.

Your fingers switched to life when you realized you could touch him, too.

Like they'd never felt anything before, your hands roamed his chest and neck and arms hungrily, palms laving at his lithe build. You'd never get over how soft his skin was. How perfect and warm and fleshy it felt.

Your kiss deepened in the meantime, your tongue finding his. The bathroom was a warm, steaming, moaning mess but you were only focused on Seonghwa. His mouth and hands on you, his presence, his smell--his hard cock flushed against you, red tip leaking down a shaft much longer than you'd remembered.

You paused, staring, while both your heavy pants filled the air. "I--Can I--With my mouth?"

Your choked attempt to beg for his cock down your throat was cut off as a loud chime rang out over your apartment's alarm system.

Seonghwa's eyes immediately flashed blue as he tapped into the home's network, letting him see who was at your doorstep.

You bit your lip, body still aching. You prayed it was just a package that could be left in the delivery module and you'd pick back up where you'd left off in seconds.

To your disappointment, his brows furrowed.

"...Your sister's here. With San. And the cake."

You sat at the kitchen counter, finger drawing invisible scattered lines and shapes into the white surface. Your sister sat next to you, gulping down a cocktail as she watched your androids move around the kitchen like it was second nature.

"So then Junhyeong sends it back and by the time they remade his meal, we were done with ours," she said in between sips. "It was ridiculous."

You sighed, taking a swig of your own as you tried to steel yourself. The conversation had been much heavier than you'd wanted to deal with today.

Your sister had come to you to vent before the family dinner later that night. Coincidentally, it was a dinner to celebrate your parents' thirtieth anniversary, but all your sister wanted to talk about was her own failing marriage.

Not usually one to initiate contact, it surprised you when she'd turned up at your doorstep out of the blue one night three months ago. San had been with her, thankfully, so you didn't feel terrible about sharing two bottles of wine with her then sending her back home.

But now you were starting to understand. It was so much more serious than you'd thought and your heart ached for not seeing the signs before. For not taking her quiet cries for help more seriously.

Your sister's husband had fallen out of love and resorted to some less than savory behavior. She'd caught him cheating not once, but twice. He was drinking almost every night--that is, if he came home. And then there were the credit statements--she'd discovered he'd taken out loans in her name. When she'd asked him what he'd done with the money, he admitted to gambling it all away.

But worst of all, you were horrified to learn he'd began exhibiting violent behavior toward her. Apparently, San had been there for every close call, had diffused the situation and taken a handful of punches meant for your sister, but the thought made you squirm uncomfortably.

"Hey, Y/n," your sister said, voice lowered to a whisper now. You watched her eyes drill into San's back, face unreadable. "Can I talk to you on the balcony?"

She turned to you, eyes shining with unshed tears. You gripped your glass. "Of course."

You padded out of the kitchen behind your sister silently, giving Seonghwa a reassuring smile when he looked over his shoulder. You could see the concern in his eyes. Your sister was just as much family to him as she was to you by now.

When you made it to the balcony, you held your breath. Whatever she was about to say, she wanted to say it out of earshot from your androids. You shifted your weight from foot to foot nervously as she chewed her lip, clearly hesitant.

"What I'm about to tell you, Y/n, you're not allowed to judge me for it, okay?" she said. Your heart pounded, equally curious and apprehensive.

"Okay, promise. This is now the balcony of nonjudgmental silence and listening," you chirped.

"I'm serious, Y/n," your sister huffed, and you held up your hands in innocence.

"I am, too! Sorry, you're making me nervous, just say it already," you insisted, tapping her on the arm impatiently.

"Ugh, fine, okay. Here goes nothing," she started. She took a big breath, unable to look you in the eyes. "I'm leaving Junhyeong."

You raised a brow. "That's great news, I would never judge you for that--"

"For San," she added.

"Oh," you responded breathlessly. You studied each other in silence. Your sister swallowed anxiously, and you could tell you needed to speak and reassure her. But you were frozen.

She'd fallen for San? For her butler model? The one who'd been with your sister and her husband for three years now?

You had so many questions. Since when? How had she known? How did she feel about him being, well.. not real?

You mind swirled and your sister looked like she was finally going to cry so you scrambled for something to say.

"C-Congrats!" you said, willing a smile to paint your face. "I--I can't judge you for that. Does he... make you happy?"

Her face finally melted in relief and you saw the most beautiful expression of adoration take its place quickly thereafter. "Yes, very. I--Y/n, I'm in love with him. He's everything to me. I don't care if the courts never recognize the relationship legally. I just need him."

You blinked back tears at her confession. Your lip quivered at the resonance of her feelings within your own heart, a desperate cry aching to be released. But you quelled it. This was your sister's marriage. Her whole life was about to change. So was Junhyeong's. And San's. You took a deep breath.

"How long?" you asked. She hesitated, just a second of her eyes moving back and forth across yours, and you couldn't help yourself. "Were you... intimate with him before? Did Junhyeong know? Does he know?"

"Jesus, Y/n, do you really want to know all that?" she asked.

"Yes," you said breathlessly, hoping you looked more supportive and nosy and less desperate and praying for insight.

"Fine, sit down," she sighed. "I'll tell you everything. But promise me you won't tell mom and dad. I need to do this myself."

You agreed and she followed through on her word, enlightening you on her love life.

San had entered the picture early on in your sister's relationship.

He'd become a romantic asset, as she put it, to her and Junhyeong's relationship rather quickly. And after a year and half, when Junhyeong drifted away, he waved them off.

Might as well give the robot another job, he'd said, talking about sex and affection like add-on features.

Instead of just keeping her satisfied and entertained, however, San had also helped your sister navigate her feelings. He'd been there when Junhyeong wasn't. He'd made her feel like a brand new person and, most importantly, worthy and deserving of real love.

You wanted terribly to tell her about you and Seonghwa--about the line you'd just crossed and how you echoed her feelings. But, when you thought about it for more than two seconds, you and Seonghwa hadn't talked properly. Or, at least, you hadn't been able to tell him how you felt or had a discussion about your fears and hopes and dreams for a future with him.

Instead you helped her come up with ways to navigate her situation. You researched government forms online with her and helped her submit a divorce petition. Then, all you had to do was figure out how to tell your parents--and Junhyeong. Most of them involved letting your sister stay at your place for the rest of the week.

What felt like only minutes later, there was a knock at the sliding door. You both turned around to see a pink-cheeked San waving through the glass, as if waiting for permission. Your sister giggled and motioned him out.

"We're about two hours out," he announced as he poked his head through a small crack in the door. "I don't know about you, Y/n, but usually your sister likes to start getting ready about now."

You didn't have time to answer before your sister jumped to her feet. "Already? Ugh, you're so right, I probably look like a mess. All tipsy and puffy," she muttered as she started collecting her things to go back inside.

"Hmm, I just see a fine, sun-kissed babe in front of me," he offered back, reaching out a hand to help her inside.

"Are you sure that's not your reflection in the glass, baby?" she shot back, and you couldn't help the smile that grew when you realized how comfortable they felt around each other and, now, you. "Come with me, though, I have some news I think you'll want to hear."

"Oh? So you don't just want to have a private first course?" San asked, pinching her waist. She giggled and dragged him down the hall.

You watched them carefully, studying the way San's hand found hers as they disappeared into the depths of your apartment. Their flirtatious banter reminded you of yours and Seonghwa's.

But you couldn't stop thinking about how you hadn't gotten to end that shower properly. How you hadn't talked about your future with Seonghwa or what you meant to each other now. If you were even on the same plane.

Your heart throbbed when you realized he'd specifically not mentioned the word love. Was this just sexual for him? Were you friends with benefits now? Was that, at the end of the day, just what a house husband model provided? Was this just work for him? These were the questions that you'd bottled away for months now, and the source of your frustration.

You fiddled with your hands as you tried not to compare your situation to your sister's and San's.

But as you padded into your bathroom and began to get ready, it was all you could think about.

By the time you'd finished applying makeup and picking out an outfit, you discovered your parents had sent Yunho ahead, as they usually did, to help with any last minute preparations. You found him, along with Seonghwa and San, loudly cracking jokes in the kitchen. Your heart skipped.

Your parents arrived at 7:00 exactly, already love-drunk and champagne-buzzed from their celebration that must have begun well before the end of the work day if their sloppy smiles had anything to say about it.

Junhyeong, the last member of the family (technically), stumbled in at 7:47. No call, no text. Just ambled in, hands empty, mumbling apologies about getting caught up at work.

No one at the table greeted him properly, but he also wasn't wasting his time with pleasantries anyway. He dug into the food platters, still half-full and lukewarm now, with a complete lack of awareness.

Your sister had enough mercy to let the man finish his dinner. You didn't think you'd be so kind.

Small bowls of fruit were passed around while Seonghwa stood and clinked his glass with his dessert spoon.

"Well, I think it's come to that time of the evening where we recognize the guests of honor," he started, bowing slightly to your parents. They grinned back at him, endeared.

"I've known the L/n family for just over six months now," he continued. You stared up at him across the table just as enamored as your parents. "And while that's not a lot, I can already confidently say you are the nicest, most generous people I could ever have wished to find. Y/n and S/n are proof enough that you two have had a beautiful, meaningful marriage. Congratulations to thirty years and here's to thirty more!"

The table erupted into fervent clapping before everyone raised their drinks to honor your parents.

You and your sister spoke next, giving a heartfelt speech about how grateful you were for them. Together, you'd met halfway on the cost of a lavish, three-week cruise for the two of them. Your mother cried happily, eyes glassy with fondness. Your father beamed and started voicing destination ideas immediately.

Yunho and San also added to the festivities, sharing their best memories with your parents and showering them with compliments and well-wishes.

Your brother-in-law stayed quiet. He clapped and mumbled congratulations when necessary. But you didn't think he'd added anything meaningful to the entire four-hour celebration.

And finally, when most of the dishes were done and your family lingered at the table with final thoughts and tidbits of gossip getting voiced, your sister met eyes with you. You nodded, bracing yourself.

"Um, one last thing before we go," your sister spoke up. All eyes fell on her as she ambled back to the table from the kitchen. She took up a strategic position just behind San's shoulder.

"Oh boy, here we go," Junhyeong mumbled before taking another sip of wine. Your fists clenched at his behavior and you were about to knock some sense into him when your sister spoke again.

"Actually, Junhyeong, it's about you, so listen up," she advised him confidently. Silence hung in the air while you saw her muster up the courage to say what she needed to now. "I'm leaving you. Or, more accurately, you'll be leaving me. I want you out of the house in three days."

"What? What the fuck? What the hell are you talking about?" Junhyeong asked. He was furious as he stood, knocking back his chair.

The androids in the room stood with him, all seemingly on guard for Junhyeong's next movement. The air was tense for several moments. You saw San's features had twisted into pure disgust and open hatred for the man.

Yunho and Seonghwa, meanwhile, kept their faces stony as they awaited a need to take action. Yunho, in particular, looked seconds away from taking the bastard out with the butter knife clenched in his fist. You shuddered as you remembered his model was specialized in home protection.

"I'm talking about the way you've been treating me like shit for two years," you sister answered. Her face was still just barely visible behind San's shoulder. You saw her reach out to grasp at his shirt ends for stability. "Not giving me attention was one thing. You stopped giving me the time of day as soon as we moved into your dream house in Gangnam. But the cheating, the gambling, it's all--"

"Ha! Don't you dare bring up cheating when you let this thing fuck you sideways every day of the week! I don't deserve this shit." Junhyeong fired back, inching closer with the increasing rage in his eyes that shifted between your sister and San.

The men in the room, both human and otherwise, took an equal step closer to him. Junhyeong looked around, as if suddenly remembering they weren't alone.

"I deserve to be loved," your sister snapped, voice tight. "San made me understand that. He helped me see exactly how much better off I am without you, you piece of shit. I don't even feel safe enough having this conversation with you privately. That's how fucked up this has gotten, Junhyeong. I want you out of the house in three days."

The man's eyes grew dark and, before you could register it, he lunged.

But the androids were faster.

San had the man off the ground in seconds, holding him up by a devastating grip to his throat. Yunho was just behind him, eyes flashing between San and Junhyeong, ready for anything.

Seonghwa had come to stand between you and the fight, but you weren't sure you could actually call it a fight. Not when Junhyeong gasped for air, face turning a violent shade of red and helplessly slapping San's forearm.

"Out of the house. Three days. You don't see her again. Period," came San's stunted words. You could tell from the veins popping in his neck and forehead just how great of an effort he was making to hold back.

"I'm--" Junhyeong gasped out, "Her-- h-husband!"

You swore San let out something like a growl and his grip threatened to clench Junhyeong's throat into a broken mess. But your sister walked up, shaking slightly yet undeterred, and put her phone in Junhyeong's face.

"And here is the divorce petition I submitted today," she asserted. "Effective immediate upon filing, the petitioned has 72 hours to send a legal response. In the meantime, the petitioner is granted an immediate and legally binding restraining order against the petitioned. Do you understand?"

Junhyeong wheezed in San's grasp and grit his teeth. "Fuck... that!" He struggled against the droid's hands but it was ultimately futile.

San took the opportunity to run the man's back into the wall.

"Do you understand?" he repeated for your sister. Junhyeong coughed and gasped for air, skin now bordering on a purple hue.

Your parents--God, your poor parents--watched in horror as the scene unfolded in front of them.

"Fine!" Junhyeong finally spat. San let him go and he writhed on the floor, gulping in air and clutching his throat.

The man stood with the help of the wall but coughed as he tried to wobble over to the door.

"Just because you submitted a petition doesn't mean I'll agree," he choked out, rubbing his throat. "And just because you're safe for the next three days doesn't mean you will be after."

"Do you even know how divorce works these days?" you countered, walking into the kitchen to stand directly in his line of sight. Seonghwa followed you closely, never letting the distance grow beyond an arm's reach. "The trial happens virtually right after you submit a response. San has recorded evidence of everything you've said and done to her. And when she wins the case--which she will because you fucked up big time, buddy--you'll never be allowed within a 10-mile radius of her again."

Junhyeong bared his teeth, face blooming with rage. He stuttered for seconds, eyes wild as he tried to come up with his next move.

"I--I'll sue!" he yelled, eyes wide as saucers as he turned back one last time. "Your robot assaulted me just now!"

You didn't know what came over you, but you found yourself throwing a skillet that had been sitting on the drying rack at Junhyeong's stupid, splotchy face. "Get the FUCK out of my house!" you yelled.

The man barely managed to dodge but quickly reached for the door and disappeared down the hall before anyone in the room with aim, namely the three very irritated androids with precision vision and speed, could bother to try again.

"Is everyone okay?" Yunho called out, checking over the family. He was answered by astonished affirmations from your parents and troubled grunts from your and your sister. "...San? You good, man?"

No one had noticed that San had grown heated in the meantime, cheeks and ears red with so much frustration you could practically see the steam coming off him.

Your sister's face melted and your heart clenched as she wound her arms around him and squeezed his bicep.

He blinked back to reality, looking down at your sister like she had the whole world in her eyes. He grabbed her back affectionately, shoulders finally loosening.

"Sorry, I just--I can't stand that asshole." He pursed his lips and looked down at your sister with a pout.

You and your mother both broke out into laughter, both caught off-guard by his endearing honesty.

"Mom, Dad," your sister addressed your parents as she scanned their faces for their reactions. "I'm so sorry to do that tonight, of all nights. I just... Y/n helped me realize I was done being the victim today." She shot you a meaningful glance.

"No, honey," your father spoke, eyes shining with consideration. "That was the best anniversary gift we could have received, right next to the cruise you two got us, of course. We're so proud of you, sweetheart."

Your mother echoed the sentiment and it wasn't long before the normal family rhythm returned.

And when your parents finally did leave, they ended the night by telling San to keep your sister safe and to take good care of her. Their eyes shone with all the joy and love a parent could have for their child.

After they closed the door, you and your sister turned to each other. Neither of you could help the string of giggles you let out, giddy from the intensity of dinner.

You fell into an easy post-celebration routine. Seonghwa scrubbed the surfaces while you organized the leftovers, attaching lids to containers that were set aside to cool off and mindfully placing them in the fridge.

At some point, your sister bid you goodnight with San, advising you that they were going to the guestroom. She also specifically asked you to leave them... unbothered until morning.

You and Seonghwa ushered them off to bed, making sure the guest bathroom was well-stocked for their stay, before turning out the lights and retreating to your bedroom. You didn't even have to ask him. He just followed like a tethered presence of warmth.

And finally, after the exhausting eon that your day had seemed to be, you were finally alone with him again.

"Well," he started, coming to sit at the edge of the bed with you, "that was a lot."

You sighed and fell into the bed next to him. The way his hand gently found your thigh and started to massage sweet rhythms into your aching muscles was familiar. Easy. Comforting.

And yet tonight his touch also seem charged with something else--something unfinished and still raw from earlier that morning. A hunger reawakened in you.

"Thank you for taking care of all the prep." You started calmly. Nonchalantly. "I swear I was going to help you make the side dishes, but I got caught up with S/n."

You watched him turn around slowly, deliberately, his lips twitching up into a smile. "It was nothing. You changed a life today after all."

"Two, actually," you said instantly. "San's life changed today, too."

Seonghwa's hand on your thigh froze but his eyes gleamed.

You sat up to finally face him head on. Unsaid words bubbled up in your chest like a flower ready to unfurl in the light.

"I wanted to--"

"Can I ask you something?"

Your voices overlapped out of the depths of the silent tension that hung over you. Neither of you could help but laugh.

"You first," you said. You weren't conscious of the way your eyes traced down his face like he'd disappear any moment. Seonghwa noticed, of course. He always did. "What were you going to ask?"

He licked his lips before biting them once, like he was building up the courage to ask again. Something in you wanted to grab his hand--to tell him no matter what he asked, it would be okay. You would bend over backwards for this man. You had more than enough money to spoil him--you bought him a phone, Legos, the latest video games, and whatever else he wanted--but you'd still sell your soul to the devil to make him as happy as he'd made you.

You grabbed his hand, almost greedily, and sandwiched it between your two. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he relaxed and gripped your hand back firmly. The warmth made your heart soar.

"I was wondering if you'd help me apply for autonomous citizenship," he breathed, words rolling of the tongue so genuine, so palpable, you wanted to scoop him into your arms right then and there.

But you hadn't had that conversation yet. Instead, you were having this one. So you settled for the mature adult communication appropriate for the situation. You squeezed his hand a bit tighter in encouragement.

"Of course! I honestly completely forgot that was a thing," you were quick to admit. "I would have applied you for it months ago if I had my head on straight," you said.

"R-really? Just like that?" Seonghwa asked, eyes round in wonder.

You nodded emphatically. "Yes, Hwa, just like that. You deserve to go wherever you want, whenever you want. It's so stupid you can't be outside certain hours of the night or travel outside the province without me anyway."

"So, then... you trust me?" Seonghwa asked, his voice dropping a notch lower. You felt it in the way his eyes dropped to your lips and how he inched almost imperceptibly closer to you.

"Well, duh," you answered, trying to keep your tone playful. This was made harder by him suddenly beginning to massage your thigh again.

"Could I venture to say that," he started again, bringing a finger to your face to tuck a stray hair back into place, "maybe, you think I'm my own person?"

You blinked up at him, admiring the way his lips hung slightly ajar in concentration, or maybe rapture, and how his own hair fell over gentle brown eyes that stayed fixed on you.

"Absolutely," you said firmly. Quickly. Maybe too quickly. Your pulse jumped.

His lower hand gravitated to your center slowly, dragging upward with a delicious and devastating warmth that nearly made you gasp. His other hand had found a home encasing your jaw and you leaned into it thoughtlessly. He had you in the palm of his hand--literally.

"And yet," he held you still, your body frozen and your breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your heating pelvis, "you still don't think I'm capable of love."

The words were like a slap to the face, and they stung.

You recoiled backward, eyes searching his desperately. His hands dropped, defeated, and he looked right back at you with a wild, pleading gaze.

For a few seconds your mouth opened and closed in stunned silence, fresh tears welling up in your eyes. And then the words--the excuses, the rationalizations--were rolling off your lips before you could think about organizing your thoughts coherently.

"I--N-no, I--It's not like that! I can't tell you what you feel or don't, and you clearly think you're real and you communicate your feelings and opinions when you have them--which I love, by the way. I love--" your breath disappeared.

He raised a brow. "You love?" he repeated, face icy and waiting. There was no mercy this time. You squirmed in your seat, your mind racing with endless thoughts.

But in the end, there was just one thought that mattered.

Your voice came out clearer than you'd expected. "I love you, Seonghwa--"

And then you fell apart.

"--But I'm so scared," you finally admitted, hot tears spilling over as you voiced the thought you'd kept prisoned in the back of your mind for months now. "How do I know, Hwa? How do I know you're real? You obviously think you are and I treat you like one because I also can't bare the possibility that you're not, but at the end of the day, you are code. Impossibly intricate code programmed to make you imperfectly unique--programmed to make you feel like you're real.

"And I want to believe it so bad, Hwa. I love you, I really do. But there's a part of me that can't help but wonder if..." you gulped, stomach clenching and threatening to empty at the words you had to spit out next. "If something happens--If human-android relationships aren't just frowned upon, but banned--If something suddenly changes in your code--If you realize one day you want another employer--I just--"

His brows pinched up and tears of his own took their place at the rim. He leaned forward and held you firmly by the back of your neck. Not roughly, just securely. Reassuringly. To tell you he was right there with you, with your hopes and fears.

His forehead leaned into yours and you sighed as he swiped a thumb to your tear-stained cheek, attentive to you even now.

"I already told you, love," he breathed. "I'm yours."

You bit your lip while a fountain of saline tears built up at his words.

"The way I see it, there's no way to truly know, I suppose. I'd argue the same about humans--how can you be sure you're real when you're just flesh and blood?" You swallowed as the words pummeled you. "But what matters to me is what about it bothers you so much. Do you feel like if any of those possibilities happened--If our relationship was illegal--If I was decommissioned--Would you feel like you wasted your time? Would you regret being with me?"

His question made you blink once. Twice. Then--

"Of course not," you asserted. "I cherish every moment I've spent with you." The words were easy. Doubtless. Blissfully true.

His hand cupped your face again and you breathed him in. Rich vanilla musk. Bitter coffee balanced by sugared flowers. The faint, almost faraway delay of cedarwood. An amalgamation of his body wash, cologne, and the complex synthetic sweat that leaked from his pores like any human.

His smell, his aura, his presence--it felt so intense. So frustratingly, laughably real.

He craned down, lips right next to your ear as he spoke whisper quiet. "Then let me love you for as long as you'll cherish me."

For a moment, you couldn't breathe. Your brain stopped short at his words because he was right.

Nothing mattered in the face of simply getting to spend any time with him you could. To love and be loved for as long as you could.

And then you were leaning into him, your lips finding his like maybe they never would again.

He was with you instantly, his mouth stuck to yours in a frantic, endless chase. The kiss was desperate and needy, your tongues and lips crashing into each other with abandon.

With your hesitations finally gone, it was like a wildfire had been set free. Your hands roamed his body, tracing the figure of his jaw, neck, shoulders, chest--

"I want to hear you say it," you said, pulling back but letting a hand trail up to rub a thumb along his jaw.

One look at his face had you wrecked. His usually well-manicured hair had fallen out of place while half-lidded eyes watched you, glassy but burning.

He bit a swollen lip and squeezed your waist. "What, that I love you?" His voice was husky and danced precariously on the lower edge of his register.

You nodded, gazing up at him in anticipation. "You didn't say it in the shower this morning, so I didn't know what this meant to you. I think," you swallowed, hand fisting in his shirt fabric, "I think I wanted to hear you say it all day."

Hands grabbed your hips, one scooping under a soft cheek, and hoisted you up and over his lap. You gasped at how easily he manhandled you, but you supposed it came with the territory of inhuman strength. He was usually just so... delicate with you.

As you settled into the new position you found yourself in--straddling your house husband at the edge of the bed--he finally took the opportunity to let his mouth latch onto the exposed skin of your neck. His lips were like plush velvet against your pulse points. You shivered and ran a hand through his silken dark locks.

"I love you, Y/n," he finally breathed, locking eyes with you. "I am in love with you. With the way you're so stubbornly independent. With the care you show your friends and family. With the way you act surprised and pout when I call you out for lying. Everything. Every part of you. All your fears and burdens, too. I love you in a way I thought I'd never feel about a human."

You watched him in awe as he swiped the remnants of your tears away, the pad of his thumb just as pliable as his lips. Your body acted before you could think.

"What way is that?" you asked, one hand coming to hold his wrist still as you guided his thumb into your mouth.

His eyes flew wide before fluttering into a haze even foggier than before. You let your tongue dance around his thumb, languidly swiping up the finger pad.

His voice was tight as he clarified, "The way I'd give up every part of me to stay by your side."

The words were thick and heavy with their implication. You let them linger, let them wrap around you like a blanket as you hollowed your cheeks and took his thumb up to the webbing of his palm. Your eyes met his and you wondered if yours were just as intense.

"I'm yours, too," you finally said, releasing his thumb. A trail of spit hung between you as he moved his arm back, and you felt his hips rock up into you. His cock was impossibly hard. The length you observed as you ground your hips down to meet his made your pussy clench around air. "Use me."

A breathless laugh escaped Seonghwa and his mouth found yours again, winding a hand through your hair to press you into him.

You arched into him, already a mess in your panties. One of your hands cupped his jaw while the other snaked down to his waistband, jutting under the elastic.

But Seonghwa's fingers clasped your wrist and stopped your downward journey. "Are you really just that needy for cock, baby?" he teased.

You bit your lip before looking up at him through your lashes. "For your cock, Hwa."

Your words had him groaning and sliding you against him for friction once. Twice.

His eyes darkened and suddenly his face was sharp, brows narrowed in concentration as he leaned back to remove his shirt.

You blinked before following suit, divesting your top and reaching to unlatch your bra.

"Wait," he interrupted, one hand stopping yours. "That's for me."

You licked your lips and stopped, letting him guide you through whatever his vision was.

He lifted you up again, hands firmly steering you by the waist. You found yourself standing, staring up at him in confusion.

You found his dark eyes piercing through you so intensely your mouth went dry. "You want my cock, princess?" he asked.

You nodded.

"On your knees, then."

You swallowed and obeyed easily, sinking to the carpet of your room and letting your hands trail down his thighs as you went.

"Show me just how bad you want it, baby," he instructed.

You wasted no time unbuttoning his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. You could see the bulge of his cock through his briefs, the tip barely contained by the elastic as it fought for any slack in the material. You brushed your palm against the length of him, proud when a shudder rumbled through him.

You exhaled completely before reaching doing and freeing him, shoving the elastic down. Your inhale, as you'd expected, was so sharp your ribs hurt.

You'd seen his cock three times before now, but not this close. And you swear, even this morning, it hadn't been so engorged-- the puffy red tip wasn't this angry and leaking pre-cum like a steady dripping faucet.

Seonghwa said nothing, just let you admire and explore as you brought up a hand to finally hold it. The feel of it--the velveteen skin, the spongy, resilient shaft, the girth so wide you could just barely get your fingers to close around it--had your core trembling. Your pussy twitched and you could feel your heartbeat in your clit.

When you began to stroke it, dragging a firm grip up and down his length, squeezing at the tip on the way up, he finally broke his silence with a guttural moan.

"Mmh, Y/n," he sighed, dragging a hand through your hair.

The weight of his hand in your strands had you letting out a moan of your own as you finally moved to bring your mouth to meet his dick.

Your tongue carved intricate lines up his length at first, letting your mouth start to fathom just how big he was. A particularly lewd stripe across the tip had him groaning and bucking up into the air, and you finally decided to have mercy on the man.

You took him into your mouth, wrapping your lips around your teeth and trying to relax your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula but for some reason this seemed to turn you on to no end. He was cock was just so perfect--so fleshy and veiny and long--that you wanted to stuff him as far down your throat as possible, gag reflex be damned.

When you found your physical limit, you let your hand wrap around the small portion you (sadly) couldn't manage to fit in the wet walls of your throat. Tears pricked at your eyes from the stretch in the back of your mouth and how often you had to suppress a cough. You finally moved, letting him thrust shallowly as you found a rhythm.

"You feel so good, baby," Seonghwa grunted as he appeared to turn red from trying to not fuck into your mouth wildly. "Fuck, look at you. Can't even take me all the way and you're crying. So beautiful like this."

His hand carded through your hair while the other turned white from gripping the sheets.

And as you got used to the feeling of his weighty member jammed down your throat, you wanted more. You'd told him exactly what you wanted and you hadn't even realized how literally you'd meant it.

"Seonghwa," you breathed, stopping just a moment and letting your tongue lathe over the tip, lips pecking and sucking at it hungrily while you caught your breath. "I told you. I'm yours. Use me. Please."

The man moaned, his high-pitched whine like heaven to your ears. "Okay, baby, whatever you say. Just tap my thigh if it's too much."

You nodded before taking him back in, heart leaping wildly with anticipation as his hand joined the other, fisting your hair.

As you took him again, breathing through your nose and not gagging as violently when he slid past your uvula, you felt his thrusts turn steadier. Rougher. Faster.

You moaned around him as he began to let go. Your lids struggled to stay open and you let him hold you up by your hair. Your panties were surely soaked through by now, but you refused to check. One hand wrapped firmly around the exposed base of his shaft and the other offered you some semblance of steadiness against his thigh.

"Fucking hell, you love this, don't you?" Seonghwa teased, voice hoarse. You looked up at him through tears and matted, sweat-soaked hair. "All this time and you just wanted to be a little cockslut for me, huh?"

The rush his words gave you was pure ecstasy and you did your best to nod as you moaned around him again in response. The vibration seemed to drive him mad and he tossed his head back before plowing into your mouth over and over.

"I'm gonna cum, Y/n, you're taking me so well," he said. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin. "Where can I cum, baby? Can I--Do you want to swallow? Wanna feel me explode in your mouth?"

You nodded again, tears streaking down your face now from his relentless pace. If you could, you'd want to stay like this forever, with Seonghwa fucking desperately into your mouth like he was stuffing a ragdoll.

For as much as you were supposed to use your autonomous robot, you sure liked it a lot better when he was using you.

Your nails dug into his thigh as he snapped into you and finally his thrusts went ragged. Panting, he called out to the air as he climaxed, "Y/n!" His grunts were light and breathy as he stuttered into your mouth, painting your throat white with synthetic semen.

As he pulled out, you managed to swallow, licking your lips and driving down the liquid with your own spit. You knew it was designed to be tasteless and yet, you swore it tasted faintly of familiar vanilla.

"God, you're just perfect. That was... fucking perfect," Seonghwa proclaimed as he came down, dick softening while he stepped out of his underwear and pants.

Dazed, you were surprised when you felt him suddenly kissing you. His arms wrapped around you, bringing you back up to stand, while his tongue darted around your mouth, tasting himself. You moaned into the sloppy kiss, suckling his bottom lip when you could and tracing his teeth with your tongue when his lips wanted more.

"So, you'll fuck me now?" you asked him hazily when you came up for air, your mind already back on the prize you'd initially set out for.

"Mmmh, soon," he answered vaguely, hands roaming around your skin now, fingers ghosting your straps and elastics. "I want to take my time undressing you. I want to touch you properly... Give you so many orgasms you can't think straight tomorrow."

On the one hand, you knew the slow experience promised to be mind-shattering. You'd die and come back a new woman. But you also just really wanted him inside your aching cunt, fucking you just as hard as he had your mouth--if not even more ruthlessly.

So you whined in response, high and nasally.

Seonghwa stopped, pulling back. You shivered from the loss of contact, about to protest, when you saw his stern gaze.

"You're being so impatient, love," he said, shaking his head. "It just means I'm going to go even slower."

You scoffed in denial but he was already moving, pulling down the sleek pants you'd worn for dinner. You stood in front him in your underwear, a lacy set you may or may not have thought way too long about while getting ready.

He crouched by you, helping you step out of your pants, and stayed kneeling, forehead leaning into your soft thigh. He sighed, one hand coming to stroke languidly across the skin there.

"Let me savor this," he said, deep voice vibrating across your thigh. "Let me savor you."

He didn't need a response, not a verbal one anyway, to start planting kisses on your bare skin, hands traveling up to cup and squeeze your ass. You keened forward, steadying yourself with your hands in his hair.

And then his nose was at the elastic edge of your lace underwear, tip running along the seam like a magnet. He stopped at the bottom, where the plush folds of your labia met and dripped wet with arousal.

You weren't prepared for him to take a long, purposeful whiff, nose pressed into you so hard you were sure it would come back damp.

"You smell so good, baby, so plush and sweet and creamy," he said, voice thundering across your clothed pussy. You shuddered violently, the scene playing out below you somehow more erotic than when he'd been fucking your esophagus silly. "Let me see if it tastes the same" he mused.

Your eyes lost focus as he swiped his tongue along your soaked underwear. Your hands gripped his hair roughly when he used his tongue to part your folds, panties so wet it was hardly challenge for him.

You were sure you were moaning, panting some sort of incoherent dribble at that point, but when the lithe muscle found your clit, you couldn't contain the lewd wails that clawed out of your chest.

"Fuck, Hwa, please," you gasped, hips buzzing with need.

He answered with another lick up your nub through the fabric, followed by his lips sucking a ring around the bundle of nerves. You cried out, bucking into his lips and nose.

"Seonghwa, please," you begged, grabbing at his hair desperately, "I can't take it."

To your horror, this was apparently not the right thing to say. You looked down and saw him smiling sadly, pitifully, up at you.

"Oh, love, I know you can," he said, nipping superficially at the tops of your thighs. "In fact, you're going to cum just like that, with my tongue through your panties."

You whimpered immediately at his words and he got to work just as fast, his tongue finding your clit through the fabric again. You writhed, bucking under his hold, but his fingers were firm around your hips.

It was agony at first, if you were honest. The fabric was too starchy and your arousal hadn't leaked that far up yet. But Seonghwa was impossibly skilled, sliding the slick from your cunt upward with every lick and adding to the moisture with his own dripping tongue.

And then it was bliss--the material just wet enough to strike the perfect balance of friction, his tongue warm and fast and precise.

You were a mess in just minutes, moans dragged out of you by his mouth. It was maddening that he was just using that one muscle. His fingers remained idle on your hips, holding you in place, and his lips only occasionally brushed you. And yet you were fighting against his hold to grind your hips against his tongue, to search for more wetness, more friction, more of him--just more--

And then you were cumming, spilling through your underwear in a way you never had before, soaking them so thoroughly it was obscene. He held you through it, lips sucking in time with you hips, until you stilled.

"You--Do you normally squirt?" Seonghwa asked, voice taught and panting.

Your chest heaved as you looked down to find him covered in slick and sweat and some other clear liquid you'd never seen come out of you before.

"N-No," you answered, feeling a tad lightheaded.

As if he could read your mind, Seonghwa was by your side instantly, helping you lie back in bed. As you got comfortable in the pillows, he peeled your underwear down and off, discarding the drenched fabric onto the floor.

And finally, his mouth was at your chest, trailing kisses from your navel up toward your sternum. You could see how hard he'd gotten again, could feel his cock brush against your legs, and your cunt throbbed with anticipation.

But Seonghwa, true to his word, was hellbent on taking the evening very slowly.

"My beautiful princess," he murmured, kissing the exposed top of your breast. "Squirting for me when I haven't even touched you properly."

One hand found its way under your back, deftly untying the knot you'd put there earlier that afternoon. He clamped the lace fabric between his teeth and tugged slowly downwards, exposing your breasts with a brutal patience.

And when the garment was off, he looked down as if to survey his work, gliding his hands across your skin appreciatively. His fingers found a nipple, working the bud to a hardened point. You exhaled shakily, not sure how long you could keep from begging for him to fuck you.

"One more with my fingers, love," he announced like he was calling you to dinner.

A finger plunged into your folds and you arched into his touch. Your entrance spasmed around the tip of his finger and you let out a groan, low and filthy.

"You're so damn wet for me, baby," he remarked, letting his finger circle your ring of muscle. The motion had you bucking off the bed, desperate for him to be inside you. "Shh, wait, patience. Have you learned nothing, Y/n?"

This got you to be still, the threat of drawing out the process even longer stopping you cold. You shivered at the satisfied laugh that left him when you submitted to his supplication.

"Good girl. Here," he said before plunging his finger in you, a second one following shortly thereafter.

His pace was thankfully faster than if you'd been impatient with him again, that was for sure, and his fingers curled deliciously at the top of his thrusts. You groaned, chanting his name over and over as he worked on you.

Your hands found him, the planes of his muscles and the soft curtain of his hair, desperate for something to cling to. As he tilted his plane of attack upward, insistent on finding that fleshy spot within you, you clung to his arm and neck for stability. His motions quickly had you at the edge of your next climax.

"Hwa, I'm--fuck, right there! You feel so good," you panted.

He looked up at you, finally finding your eyes again after staring at your leaking, swollen pussy for minutes now. "Show me how good it feels, baby. Cum around my fingers like you'd cum around my cock."

His nasty words already had you arching, but suddenly his thumb was on your clit and you were moaning, jetting past a point of no return.

You saw stars as you came, crying out his name as you clenched down on his fingers, trapping them in your walls. He helped you ride through wave after wave, fingers only stilling when your grip relaxed and your hips found the bed again.

"You're crazy, Hwa," you stated, barely having the energy to drag a hand through his hair.

"Mmhmm," he acknowledged. "Crazy for you."

Your heart swelled as he swooped down to capture you in another kiss. This time it was softer, more intentional, like he was giving you a sacred promise. You let him love you with his lips, let him explore your mouth and cheeks, chin, and throat, collarbones and shoulders.

And when your heart was beating normally again, he got on all fours, positioning himself in between your legs.

"Are you ready, love?" he asked.

"Take me, Hwa," you answered, wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought maybe his dirty mouth had rubbed off on you because you found yourself whispering in his ear, "Fuck me so hard San and S/n don't even have to ask if we're together."

He whined and you flushed, loving the way his sounds hit your ears like a melody. He obeyed effortlessly, plunging into you with a careful first thrust.

You were more than prepared when he entered you and the moan that left you when he fit all the way in to the hilt was positively sinful. He had you delightfully full and the stretch was so good the pain doubled instantly as pleasure.

"I love you, Y/n," he stated again before diving down to kiss you again. He thrust in slowly, letting your slick squelch around him obscenely. "I love you for waiting. For setting boundaries and finally trusting me. I wouldn't want to have you any other way."

"I love you, too, Hwa," you echoed, looping your arms around his neck. He sped up incrementally, letting you both adjust to the pace slowly. "I love you for being so patient. For letting me take my time and--ah," you squirmed as he hit that spot within you that had you seeing white, "And for helping me face my f-fears."

He kissed you again, raw and savage. With the shared confession hanging in the air, the atmosphere turned hot and yearning.

"Fuck, Seonghwa," you moaned as he ramped up to full thrusts, balls slapping against your ass with every snap of his hips. "You feel so fucking good!"

"You do, too, love," he answered, already breathless and ragged. "You look so beautiful getting pounded like this. I wanna stuff you full, princess, 'wanna get that reproduction upgrade and give you babies."

The thought of him spilling inside you, of him actually being capable of getting you pregnant, had you spiraling dangerously close to another orgasm.

"Shit, yes, Seonghwa, please, wanna get bred by you, please--" you sobbed out, filter completely absent.

He stopped abruptly and manhandled you again. "All fours," you heard him bark out, voice strained and broken.

You shakily found the mattress on your hands and knees and presented your dripping hole for him nicely, ass in the air.

A hand came down and smacked your ass. You yelped, but it was swallowed by the rush of air you inhaled when another slap came down--this time on your cunt. "So filthy for me," Seonghwa panted. "So naughty. My sweet girl wants to get bred like an animal? I can arrange that just fine."

And then he was fucking into you from behind, hands firmly on your hips dragging you back and forth, impaling you on his rock-hard cock. You could feel how ridiculously hard he was--how thick and angry the tip probably was--how much pre-cum he was probably spilling into you already--and your walls clenched.

"Fuck!" he yelled, hips stuttering. "You like that, princess? Like getting bred like a fucking slut? Like when I fuck you from behind like a beast? Like a machine?"

You slumped into the bed, arms unable to keep yourself supported. Your mind was half gone, breathing hard and limbs gelatinous. All you could do was take the raw battering he was giving you. As you relaxed, drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth as you opened it to moan, the angle changed ever so slightly and your walls flexed as he hammered into your cervix.

At the same time, the angle let his scrotum scrape against your clit with every thrust, and you were moaning and whimpering into your pillows, screaming his name as your third orgasm built with a blooming pleasure.

"That's it, right? Your... cervix?" he asked in between breaths as he thrusted. "Right where I'll cum to fill you full of my kids?"

Your face contorted at his words and your gut flipped with heat. "Fuck! Yes, Hwa, right there!" you screamed out, sure he could hear you through the plush objects with just how loud you were.

And then you were cumming, walls clamping down on his cock so hard you thought you might cramp.

Seonghwa groaned, tossing his head back again as he came, too, filling you with the synthetic seed you suddenly desperately wanted to be real. It was hot inside you, hot enough to feel, and the sensation prolonged your orgasm. You rode wave upon wave, milking the man's cock for everything he had and more.

He shuddered over you when you were finally done, huffing and watching you appreciatively as you both panted for breath.

He turned you over gently and kissed the tip of your nose before pulling out finally. He stood and shook out his limbs, offering you a smile while disappearing into the bathroom. You caught your breath, body seeming to vibrate elatedly.

Seconds later, Seonghwa returned, rag in hand to clean you up. You let him lift your leg up over his shoulder and felt liquid drip out of your used hole.

"If that was real semen, I'd fuck it back into you with my fingers," he said, voice dead serious.

You shuddered under his gaze, half tempted to beg him to do it anyway.

But he dabbed at you with the rag before you could speak, carefully wiping away the warm liquid that spilled from your pussy as he shifted you slightly.

Within minutes, you were clean, dry, and warm against him with the lights off as you finally went to bed, sharing it as more than just friends. Or--at the very least--more than what you had been that morning.

"You were so beautiful today, love," he called out as he tucked you into his chest. "There, that makes seven times today. Better? Or should I call you beautiful even more tomorrow?"

You hummed into his collarbone and ran a hand haphazardly along his neck. "Mmm, more tomorrow," you mumbled as sleep threatened to take you.

"More tomorrow, then. It's a promise," he said. They were the last words you heard him say as you fell asleep in your bed that night.

You dreamed, blissfully, of a life with him. Of a world where your relationship was normal. One where he was not just a house husband, but a real husband.

You woke later, unsure of the time or why you'd been awoken. The sun had yet to rise and you blinked blearily to look around you.

There was a knock at the door.

Beside you, Seonghwa twitched awake. You shared a look of confusion before he went still.

"They're... here," he spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

"What? Who's they?" your brows furrowed as you flicked the lamp on.

The knock came again, this time followed by a muffled voice. You couldn't make out what was said, but Seonghwa surely could.

He jumped out of bed, not bothering to put any more than his sweatpants on.

"Hwa, what's happening?" you asked, heart racing as he flung open the bedroom door.

You grabbed your robe and hastily tied it, running out to follow him toward the front door.

You stopped when you saw that San had also gotten up, but your sister wasn't with them. You were about to ask what was happening when Seonghwa threw open the front door.

"What do you want?" he asked. You stepped up to greet the horde of people in black suits at your door, but Seonghwa was quick to put his arm out. "Don't. They're dangerous. They're--"

"Ma'am, are you Y/n L/n?" the man in front asked. You nodded slowly as he sent a gruff flick of his head to the men standing behind him. Then, suddenly, the men in suits were crossing the threshold and entering your apartment.

Chaos broke out immediately. Seonghwa and San jumped into action to stop the men, but it seemed their objective was subdue the droids anyway.

Your heart stopped as they held Seonghwa's hands together behind his back, forcing him to his knees. You dashed forward, his name on your lips, when two more men were suddenly at your side. They held onto an arm each and you looked up at them with disgust.

"Sorry for the intrusion, Miss L/n. I'm the Vice President of Continuing Autonomous Excellence at KQ Corp. Here's my card," the first man said, showing you his business card. Indeed, it looked like he was a high-ranking executive at the company that manufactured droids like San and Seonghwa.

You struggled against the men holding you again, not liking where this was going.

"I do apologize. There's no need to resist, dear. We'll be out of here before you know it." the man said, his breath as crusty as his aging skin. "You see, we received a tip earlier tonight that a model registered at this address--your house husband here, yes--has expressed emotions and behaviors outside the scope of its intended purpose."

"No," Seonghwa breathed, eyes going wide. You blinked between them, trying to figure out where this was going. But if it was anything like Seonghwa's face warranted, you already knew you didn't want to hear it.

The man continued. "And, what a surprise, the other model we received a tip on is also present! That makes things easy. We're just going to reset them, dear, and add our latest provisional patch to their code. For your security and safety, I assure you."

You froze at his words. "What... what do you mean? Reset? What does the patch do?"

The men in suits had already begun setting up in your kitchen, laptops in briefcases firing up long files of proprietary code.

"Yes, reset. In case you didn't read the fine print of your purchase agreement, all models are subject to factory reset in case of error. It will start his memory over, which can be annoying to retrain, yes, but we believe it's essential for the error that has occurred."

You opened and closed your mouth, fresh tears falling down your cheeks. You locked eyes with Seonghwa who regarded you silently, guilt and sadness overtaking his eyes.

"N-no, you can't," you breathed, pleading with the man in front of you. "You can't reset him. Please. What's the error? What happened?"

"We received an anonymous report that your house husband and this butler model here," he walked over, swiping a ruddy finger at San's nose, "have been going around saying they're in love," he ground out. "Not to mention the acts of violence."

"He--They are!" you protested. "They're in love, they feel it!"

The man shook his head, giving you a knowing, bittersweet look. "Is that what he told you?"

Your heart beat wildly in your chest. You felt like vomiting all over your entryway.

And just when you thought it couldn't get worse, your sister stumbled into the room, rubbing her eyes groggily.

"What's going on?" she asked.

The executive snapped his fingers and two of the men who'd set up camp in your kitchen immediately grabbed her.

"What the fuck? San? Y/n! Seonghwa! What the hell is happening? What--what are they doing to you?" she yelled.

By now, the men holding your droids down gripped a syringe in their hands, ready to sink long needles into their necks.

"No, please! Stop! You can't do this!" you pleaded. "I love him! You can't reset him, please! I need him! Just like he is now, I need him--please--"

You wheezed as the executive nodded and the neon green liquid was plunged into Seonghwa's neck. You folded. The men who'd started the encounter holding you back now had to hold you up.

"Y/n," Seonghwa spoke as the liquid seemed to affect him, eyes fluttering. "No matter what happens, I love you. Never forget that. I love you with everything that I am."

You screamed as hot tears tracked down your cheeks. You flailed in the suited men's grip but it was fruitless. You just let them hold you upright as you fell limp.

Beside you, you could make out San and your sister sharing last promises with each other, their words quieter than your shrieks of agony.

"I love you, too, Seonghwa, I--I'll love you forever," you choked out, hoping he heard you as his eyes closed.

When the droids went still in the men's grip, you bawled. The apartment was otherwise silent as the suits folded up their briefcases, securing their accessories like nothing had happened at all.

And when the men holding you let go, you sank to your knees on the ground. You didn't know what was happening with your sister--all you could focus on was him. Seonghwa. The man you'd entirely forgotten wasn't a man at all.

"Should be just a few minutes. If you experience any further errors, please give us a call," the executive said as the men piled out of your home. You made no move to acknowledge him, and you think he put his business card somewhere near the front door. You didn't know for sure. Certainly didn't care.

You crawled toward your house husband as the door closed. The world around you faded as you inched nearer, taking him into your arms while you waited for whatever the fuck just happened to come to fruition. Tears slipped down your face and onto his still-bare chest. You cried even harder as you took a sleeve from your robe to dab at it.

And finally, as you cradled his face, thumb tracing over the features you'd committed to memory at this point, his eyes opened.

He looked up at you, and as one hand reached for the one that held his face so tenderly, you had hope for all of one second. Then--

"Hello, who will I be attending?"

You curled over his body and sobbed.

[thinkinboutyootoo]

What I wish I knew before: LOA for 3 years

Before I jump into the list, just wanna put a few of the major things I manifested into my life as of this post:

↳ Complete life turn around (better friends, better mental health, social life, confidence, etc.) ↳ Straight A's for a year straight (A&B's for the rest of my school career) ↳ Learning how to do my hair on my own ↳ Met my favorite boy group ↳ Big Internship opportunity while I was in school w/ a major role ↳ No credit card debt DISCLAIMER: I currently practice law of assumption, however, the first two were done with some law of attraction/shadow work techniques as well!

These were only the major things that greatly impacted my quality of life in the past few years, this doesn't include things I'm actively creating or small stuff, but there's plenty of that as well!

With that being said, here's what I wish I knew in the beginning that I'm grateful to know now ^^

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You are who you surround yourself with, therefore, your thoughts are what others think as well.

↳ This isn't to say that there isn't variation, but If you're going around, constantly marking yourself as some shitty person, people are going to treat you that way. It's something I have experienced firsthand via both sides. The lesson is you need to hold yourself accountable and discipline yourself. Do NOT make yourself an easy target. Tone your thoughts and self concept and this won't burden you, it'll benefit you! Everyone will notice your character change and adhere to that.

It's not the method, it's the mindset.

↳ It's common for people to come in trying to find out what's the best way, the quickest way, etc. (basically, "get rich quick" way of doing things). But ultimately, all of these "methods" you see aren't the root of your manifestations, it's your mindset. Your mind is already in the state of creation, all you need to do is own it all. Everything else is simply a booster for you. There is no "best method" because you ARE the method.

There is never just one way to do things.

↳ Just because you can do things in one, single way, doesn't mean you have to. If you want to combine subs with robotic affirming and rampaging, DO IT! If you want to raw dog it all and ride out with scripting only, GO FOR IT! Do what works for you and build your mind muscle to fit comfy in your reality.

Your intrusive thoughts will NEVER manifest.

↳ I don't care what anyone says, intrusive thoughts WILL NOT manifest in your reality. But why? Simply put, they can't intrude a reality they aren't allowed to exist in. Intrusive thoughts are what? Intrusive. Meaning, if we choose our realities and what's in them, you didn't choose those thoughts, therefore, they literally cannot manifest. Feel your feelings, but rest assured because intrusive thinking will not "ruin" anything you're creating. 🩵

You need to have gratitude in absolutely everything you do.

↳ Affirming to yourself "I have the biggest, most beautiful mansion ever!" and you don't even like to clean your damn bathroom is crazy. And this isn't even about "you have to work for your manifestations" because we all know that's not true. This is about removing yourself from bad habits attached to your old self and realizing that a lot of people would kill to be you. Appreciate the space you have, and if you want something different, act as though you have it. Treat your spaces well and it'll return to you tenfold.

Don't entertain things that your old self fed off of.

↳ You're "in a relationship with SP", but you just liked a vent video on tiktok saying "Relationships are so difficult and no one wants me?" Interesting. If your old self found it so easy to consume content that works against who you are now, please find it in you to stand on business and start hitting "not interested" on posts you can't relate to. If you're the type of person that is loved by everyone and doesn't struggle with dating, you can scroll right past that video ranting about the dating pool. Next.

You're the shot, not the chaser.

↳ Crazy wording, but I'm dead serious. Nothing you're affirming for should feel like you're desperately trying to get it. It should be like a reminder that it's yours already (cause it is, duh!). No one goes to a bar excited to drink the chaser, they're there for the shots. Reshape your affirmations to put yourself directly in this reality. Everything in life is a lime and you're tequila!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Tried to make these sort of abridged, but I may go in-depth on some topics in the future! thanks for readingg ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

it's already yours! love u! kk

[eternal-pie]

Stupid

Shinso x reader

(Shinso’s POV) your POV

Pt.1

——————

——————

You knew Shinso was weird the moment you first saw him. Not bad weird the way some teen boys were, the sort of weird that makes you wonder how he turned out like that.

You and Shinso were both in general courses so you'd pass each other in the hall sometimes. His appearance always stuck out to you, kids your age care alot about what others think of them & that shows in their appearance. Shinso didn't have that, not to say he looked bad or unkempt. Shinso seemed to have that effortless quality that took others hours to create.

while others pruned and performed he just existed, watching him you would have thought he was in an empty room.

It was that unapologetic nature that led to you starting a conversation with him at the sports festival. Everyone was waiting for the obstical course to begin, desperate to calm your nerves, you sparked up a conversation.

His voice matched his appearance, casual and unconcerned. You'd like to imagine he talked alot like a cat, fed up with your very existence. It felt like he was tired of hearing what you had to say long before you started talking.

All & all the convo was fairly one sided, you didn’t even get his name, though when

you gave him yours, you stopped being the one talking.

The first time you had ever seen him smile was after he used his quirk on you, it was small and mischievous. He wore it well.

Other sounds around you felt a little muffled or maybe his voice had just become clearer.

Even as he had you carry him to the finish line you couldn't help but be fascinated by his power. The course had given you ample time to come up with questions and they erupted from you the moment you could speak again. Shinso didn't really answer them, instead just stared at you blankly.

He had reluctantly let you join his chariot group and the two of you were the only general hero course students to make the 3rd game that year.

The two of you began to hang out after that. over time you slowly got to know

Shinso. No matter how tight lipped about his problems he was, it wasn’t all that hard to learn just from being around him.

Shinso didn't care what others thought because he already had a good idea of how he was seen. Most seemed to view him as nothing outside his ability, a quirk with legs. More like an animal or a robot, devoid of morality or agency. Among them most just flat out avoided Shinso; they were preferable to those who spoke to him.

It touched a very deep & dark place inside you watching those interactions. the way they'd whisper to their friends before approaching him. Even the ones pretending to care were careful to never give him an opportunity to use his quirk.

In fact they were the worst, the audience, the acting. It all felt like they viewed treating him like a person like charity, after spending long enough with Shinso you too started to enjoy watching them crumble.

After seeing how people treated him it was clear how he turned out the way he did. Tell someone anything enough times and they'll believe it. You did your best to show Shinso you trusted him, that he was a good person, you don't think he fully believes that even now, but you can tell he is.

He was good to you, constantly going out of his way to make sure you’re OK, checking that you’re eating, sleeping and studying a good amount. Even if he acts all exhausted as he does it it’s very clear he cares a lot.

He’s also training to become a hero, even if some people become heroes with bad intentions Shinso clearly isn’t one of them. You have no doubt he’ll show the world that people are more than their powers, that being good isn’t something you are or aren’t born with, It’s something you do, a choice you make. You've seen just how dedicated he is to becoming a good hero, watched the work he’s put in and how it paid off in real time.

As his uniform became less baggy, and he became more self-assured, something began to grow in you too.

You don’t know when you started liking Shinso, did you ever not? He was kinda like a hallway crush before you actually met him. Either way by the time Shinso became Hitoshi, you were suddenly aware of your once dormant feelings.

Then one night during midterms, all your feelings ripped to the surface by the rudest sexual awakening in the history of ever.

———

I would like to note that your POV is gonna be a bit more Nsft

@x-reader-reblog-station

[thewadapan]

Spent today checking out The Amazing Digital Circus and Murder Drones, and god, the kids today have it so good when it comes to this sort of content. When I was a teen, I was obsessed with Red vs. Blue and RWBY, which I think it's fair to say are the equivalents of the time, and the sheer gulf in terms of writing quality and production value is stunning. I hear there were some rumblings of unprofessional conduct from the production company, which would hardly be surprising considering this is yet another guys-working-from-their-basement success story, but much bigger companies with much shittier business practises consistently put out much worse content than this.

The Amazing Digital Circus is definitely the better show of the two, thanks to its slam-dunk premise and some great writing from Gooseworx. The producers have talked about aiming to fill a perceived gap in the market between kids' cartoons (The Boss Baby) and adult animation (Bojack Horseman), and I think they have successfully threaded the needle to create a very unique tone. There's a sense of these works existing totally outside the mainstream media machine; they're not getting BBFC rated, but you just know millions of kids are watching them. It's on YouTube and the fact that it looks like some Frozen Spider-Man kids' slop just means da parents won't question what their kids are watching.

But truth be told, there's nothing objectionable about the content of The Amazing Digital Circus whatsoever. It's unusually metatextual and loosely apes the aesthetics of much darker media, touching on slightly more existential themes than your typical kids' cartoon, but it still has a lot in common with those same cartoons. The zany characters are all fairly one-note, and the emotional arcs of the episodes are honestly quite straightforward. The second episode in particular has an absolutely textbook plot structure to it. It's a far more self-assured and traditional style of writing than you ever see in this kind of independent work—certainly far more so than Murder Drones, which is written by an insane person.

More than anything, I'm reminded of how I felt watching Puella Magi Madoka Magica: that it's a very solid work of fiction, but that the people who'd get the most out of the work are isolated teens struggling to make the transition into adulthood. Certainly if nothing else, the fandoms of these shows must be bringing a lot of kids together around the world. I adore this soundbite from Goose: "Above anything else, I just wanted it to feel kind of lonely." You see Pomni's worldview shatter, she suddenly finds herself in a body that feels completely wrong, and she has to construct a new kind of belonging for herself.

As for Murder Drones, that show's absolutely fucking nuts, yo. The writing is at once painfully basic and utterly incomprehensible. If someone just sat down and explained the plot straightforwardly, it would be fantastically boring. But man, the presentation, the sheer delight the animators seem to approach every scene with...! I'd say it's clearly trying to use "the characters are robots" as an excuse to expose da kids to some absolutely shocking levels of gore, much like the Transformers movies, but midway through the series it starts straightup swapping the oil and wires for blood and bones and you've got to respect that.

The writing itself is so excruciatingly irony-poisoned that it goes beyond cringe and somehow wraps back around again to being sincerely funny. The show kind of wants to have its cake and eat it in terms of constantly lampshading how flat and cliché the emotional plotting is, but also clearly aiming to genuinely tug at the heartstrings and whip fans into a frenzy. And it kind of succeeds, I think! The way it veers between bizarrely high-effort implementations of memes, seriously cool fight scenes and horror visuals, and big emotional moments is very disarming. If The Amazing Digital Circus is an attempt to faithfully rework the American-cartoon formula for a slightly older audience, Murder Drones aims to crib the aesthetics of high-school cartoons while actively rejecting every traditional narrative technique used in those stories. Which means it's kind of bad, which means it's also kind of great.

If it's not already, then within a couple of years it will be deeply cringe to have ever been into Murder Drones in particular or (to a slightly lesser extent) The Amazing Digital Circus, in much the same way that everyone seems embarrassed to admit they were ever a Homestuck fan. But like with Homestuck, I feel like these series are genuinely pushing at the frontiers of storytelling in a way that's commendable and might inspire new kinds of writing once the fans grow up.

ENA is also pretty good, for the record.

[ask--eggman]

Hello Doctor! What’s your ideal first date?<333

Hrrrm... I'm not really into the whole dating scene. I'm not a romantic guy. The less it's like whatever the expected and traditional kind of dates are, the better, in most circumstances...

But if it involves food, I can make some exceptions. Just don't make me sit in some stuffy fancy restaurant where the food is overpriced (not that I plan on paying anyway,) and terrible quality compared to what my robots can make!

I'd prefer fast food, or an ice cream parlour, or coffee shop for my favorite Iced Americano and chocolate hedgehog cake pop. Would be nice paired with a walk on the beach. Simple, casual and delicious. I'm not paying the bill because you don't have to when you're The Eggman. You'll soon find out why.

I suppose really, my true ideal is having someone come to my place and getting the chance to show off my stuff. Being cautious not to reveal anything top secret or any information that one could use against me, of course.

But everyone knows I'm smart and would have my ways of dealing with people who might dare to try anything funny. I can tell and deal with it easily, so nobody is fooling me or putting me in danger and should know not to dare.

But I'd say that's not really first date type stuff as a result. It's better to go for those public place options for the first until I know it's not a trick, the rest is more like second base type stuff, if you're lucky enough to make a second date.

However once that's assured, it'd be nice to show off my place and what I get up to because I don't often get the chance but I'd immediately win hearts with how cool and impressing it all is and how admirable and desirable it makes me.

Then we could play games on my awesome self made console or arcade in my play room and I could beat you at every single one because I'm really talented and skilled like that and would be happy to prove it to you!

And the best part would be to spend time at my theme park. My private one for my own use, not as deadly as those I open to the public but just as thrilling. We could go on the rides, get great food, have some real fun like dates should be.

I mean, who wouldn't want an amusement park to themselves for the evening? Those that think it's "too childish" or "not serious enough" aren't worthy of the honor of being my date. I need them to know how to have fun.

So long as I get to know you to find out if you're worthy and tell you more about my handsome glorious self, though you already know and understand I'm perfect, handsome, and the most desirable man in the world, obviously - I'd consider it a first date gone well.

[x-for-a-y]

The Wreck never goes in to be maintained.

There are myriad reasons for this. First is that the doctor is easily described as a perfectionist; its creations would not leave the in-progress stage unless they met its standards absolutely. Thus, The Wreck is too well assured at a level of pristine quality to really need further maintenance, let alone regular work. Secondly, it doesn't get up to much that might yet damage it anyway. The last major interaction it had with anyone was shortly after its creation- there's not been much for it to do since then. And thirdly, the construction of The Wreck was very precise in order to properly contain the stuff that ended up inside it. Disturbing that construction would be fatal.

So the thing inside The Wreck is left to rust.

A human Soul doesn't power a robot the way a monster Soul might. The Wreck wasn't built for that, anyway- that was not the doctor's priority. But neither is a robot a very good, safe container for a human Soul. Which is why the thing inside The Wreck was stripped of the agency of human inevitability, to keep the other human thing alive & bloody, to power The Wreck. Now that thing bleeds DT so that The Wreck fails to rust.

(More than being a doctor or, even, an engineer, The Wreck's creator is an author. And in making that poor human thing follow his 3rd law, perhaps it's making a fellow author, Asimov, proud.)

[sevenworldtales]

Like, Magic

“Why isn’t it working?” asked Benjamin Arboghast.

“I don’t know.” replied Margaret Finch. “We did the incantation, my latin was flawless,” She trailed off, “Wait. In here.” Maggy pointed into the old book she had brought over. She continued, “it says untouched by other magic.”

“So?” Ben asked.

“So? She died 3 days ago Ben. You’re telling me I was your first call?” Maggy was angry at the oversight. She was also angry that she wasn’t Ben’s first call when he decided to try resurrecting his beloved Dog, Daisy.

The dog’s body was sitting in front of them, on top of a messy pile of magic supplies, ancient books, and week-old fast food packaging. Under all of that somewhere, Maggy supposed, was Ben’s coffee table.

Ben hesitated. He looked nervous.

“Well there was this blood oath thing. But I doubt that was even-” Ben started.

“You took a blood oath? Where?” Maggy interrogated. She grabbed his hand and found a scar across his palm.

“Where did you bleed?” Maggy asked insistently.

“Right here! Over the phone. I don’t even know if you can call it a blood oath.” Ben said. Maggy looked at him with pity.

“Wait, was that real? I assumed it was a scam well because,” He gestured to the ripe, decaying carcass of his beloved pet, friend, companion, and confidant, Daisy.

“What was the number? What did they say?” Margaret inquired. She had softened her tone. This had been a difficult week for Ben.

Ben went over to the mess of paper and refuse that some may call a desk. He rummaged past herbs, scrolls, and vials with label’s like “might be pig’s blood” and “wrong snake venom, do not ingest” until he found a magazine, “Conjuror Quarterly”.

Maggy looked over as he flipped through. “Really? Conjuror Quarterly?” she asked, holding back a grin behind a judgmental expression.

Ben continued flipping, but looked up and across the room to her for a moment. “I like their articles, okay? And there are coupons for herbs in the back. Good discounts on wormwood and wolfsbane.”

Maggy took out her iPhone and began flipping through Witchr, the occult microblogging platform on which she was an influencer. She was waiting for verification so she could get a blue broomstick next to her profile picture. It was still pending.

“Found it!” Ben said. He brought the magazine over. It was opened to a full page ad for “Telewarlocks, LLC”

The headline was “Call us up for magic.”

There was an offensive graphic, a picture of very insensitive-looking old-timey stereotypes. One witch, one warlock. Below the image, it read “Our expert team of warlocks, mages, and conjurors is standing by to assist you.”

The page advertised resurrection as well as a whole slew of other services that, to Maggy’s knowledge, were impossible to perform over the phone. There were a few drops of blood on the bottom corner of the page, but they looked like they were part of the ad.

“Seems like a scam right? Oh how could I have been so stupid!” Ben exclaimed.

Maggy put her arm on Ben’s shoulder. “Hey. We’re gonna figure this out. What did they say on the call?”

“So I used the code from the ad.” Ben explained.

Maggy looked at the ad. The code was written at the bottom. It said “First time callers : Use code MAGIC47 for half off your first resurrection or transmutation spell.”

Forty Seven. The Terminus Spell. It couldn’t have been a coincidence, Maggy thought.

“Then what happened?” Maggy said, foreboding creeping into her voice. She looked at the page and grabbed Ben’s bandaged hand. “Please tell me this isn’t your blood. Please tell me it’s part of the ad.”

“Oh no that’s me.”

“Call them back. Call them back now.” Maggy ordered.

Ben got out his phone and called the number. He put the phone on speaker and set it on the coffee table, next to Daisy’s paw.

After two rings, a robotic voice spoke. “TeleWarlocks, LLC. This call will be recorded and monitored for quality assurance.”

The smooth jazz “on-hold” music came on for about 15 seconds before a cheerful voice answered.

“TeleWarlocks, LLC, how may I direct your call?” The voice asked.

“Yes I am calling regarding a resurrection order I placed earlier in the week.” Ben said.

“Is this Ben? For your dog Daisy? We haven’t received the vial of her fur yet in the mail” The voice responded, “Did you want me to call you when-”

Maggy tapped the mute button as the man on the line continued. “You mailed them her fur?”

“Is that bad?” Ben asked.

“Tell them to cancel it.” Maggy said, unmuting the phone.

“Hey there ! Maggy here, friend of the bereaved” She said to it.

“Yes? How can I help you ma’am?” The voice replied. “Did you also want to take part in our resurrection special? You won’t find prices like-”

“No I want to cancel the first resurrection. Full reversal. Blood oath removed, dog fur returned, the whole 9 yards.” Maggy said.

“I’m sorry ma’am unfortunately we cannot cancel the blood oath once the sacrament has been spilled on our enchanted scroll.” He said, in fluent customer service.

“Enchanted scroll?” she asked. “You mean your ad in Conjuror Quarterly?”

“Yes well, actually the ad itself has been enchanted with a very powerful spell. Mister uh, Arboghast’s blood actually bound him to TeleWarlocks, LLC legally. Nothing can be done until the fur-” He paused. “Oh that’s interesting.”

“What?” Ben said, now very worried.

“It does look like we just received the vial of Daisy’s fur. We will be able to perform the resurrection shortly.” the evil customer support representative said.

“Good news!” Ben exclaimed.

“Burn the ad. Burn it Ben!” Maggy commanded.

“What do you mean? They just said-” Ben was cut off by the voice on his phone.

“I assure you, now that we have the dog’s fur, burning our enchanted scroll will do nothing. TeleWarlocks LLC is proud to use the asynchronous conjuration platform. Your dog is coming back, and she’s coming back the TeleWarlocks way.”

At that moment Daisy began moving. She got up off the coffee table, and groggily waddled over to Ben.

“She’s back! She’s alive!” Ben said with glee.

A moment later, Daisy’s eyes began to glow, and took on a menacing red hue. She bit Ben and started furiously shaking her head, instantly mangling his already-scarred hand in a frenzy of blood and saliva.

Maggy stood up, and grabbed her Amazon Basics crystal amulet. It was imbued with the same amount of spiritual power as the expensive ones on Etsy, but she got it for like half the price.

“Agh my hand!” Ben exclaimed. “This doesn’t even make sense! Why would this be your business model?” he cried as Daisy’s eyes grew more red, and her body became larger. “How would you ever get repeat business if your customers are then-” Ben’s speech turned to gargling noise when Daisy bit down on his throat.

Maggy was holding her amulet chanting in latin.

The voice on speaker phone began again. “Trying a temporal shift spell? Not gonna work against TeleWarlocks’ patent pending spellbind proprietary spell system.” the voice said.

Daisy had killed Ben and was only growing larger. Maggy closed her eyes and continued her chant.

“TeleWarlocks, LLC is an unmatched-” Maggy grabbed the phone and threw it against the wall.

She had been trying to cast a powerful spell that would have pushed her back in time by 3 days. She still stood there, with a now horse-sized Daisy, who would soon be done eating Ben. Daisy turned to her with malice, as if the dog could feel Maggy’s attempt to return her to death.

With one large snap she bit Maggy’s head off, and leaped out the window. Towards her new masters.

What had been Ben’s phone sat in over a dozen pieces on the floor. The part that had been the speaker still had a faint sound coming from it: “Thank you for using TeleWarlocks LLC for all of your magic needs. Please stay on the line after this call to complete a short survey.”

[lem0nb0nes]

HERE'S WHY YOU (yes, you!) SHOULD ATTACK ME (lemonbones!) ON ARTFIGHT THIS YEAR!

if you couldn't tell i'm a bit desperate for publicity lol.

Art Fight - LEMONB0NES's Profile

I have an ever-growing number of characters on my artfight page! All the references i've been uploading lately are in preparation for this year's fight. More characters, more options! I also have a pretty wide range of character types. I have...monsters, i have...more monsters... robots.... oh! there's a humanoid! and there's a giant sea god! it's like pointing out cloud shapes! A lot of people have a preference for the type of character they draw, so I came prepared this time. Plus, now with actual, functioning references!

I try to get revenge for every attack I receive. ..Keyword "try"... last year was kind of a bummer. And the year before. But i've been getting better and more comfortable with artfight over the years, so this shouldn't be a problem. I see so many of my friends attacking people and getting at most 3 attacks the whole event, which..no offense to anybody who couldn't get revenge, by the way! just kind of sucked to see. So, if the rate of attacks i'll be getting is slow enough, I should have the time and energy to get revenge for every attack!

My attack quality will increase greatly this year! You may look back at my old attacks and feel a little bit..let down. BUT I can assure you, if you look at the art i post on Tumblr, i've grown lots as an artist since the big 24! and 23! And- no, sorry, i've only been here for two years, try the next guy for more numbers...

POSSIBLE DOWNSIDE TO ATTACKING ME:

I might not be able to get revenge. Or have much motivation at all this year. I'm really planning on it- i look forward to artfight every July! but I am currently in the process of moving and I may get so stressed out I just..lose all ability to draw. Cow A Bummer Am I Right. FEAR NOT. if this happens i'll HIT MYSELF SO HARD I GET BACK TO WORK! have NO FEAR of NOT BEING ATTACKED IN RETURN. This will be FAIR TRADE. OK!? YES CHEF!

nonetheless, if you aren't participating this year, or just reaaally don't want to attack me, or don't even know what artfight is, that's A-OKAY!!!!

..but if you want, you can put you artfight username in my inbox, and i'll bookmark a few of your guys.

HAVE FUN, EVERYBODY !! THE WAR IS APPROACHING!!!

psst. update here he y hey, i was able to move right before the fight starts ! so. no need to worry !

[mariacallous]

The “True Sensation” dildo is a fleshy, silicone tool that measures exactly 7 inches and has the ability to vibrate (three different frequencies), thrust (seven different speeds), and self-heat (up to 105 degrees Fahrenheit). It’s just like the real thing, James Guo, the founder of Our Erotic Journey, assures me from his office in Irvine, California. Best of all—everything is controlled through the app AMZ.

“It connects to someone that’s oceans away,” he says of its potential for creating all kinds of sexual fantasies. Teasingly, he adds: “There’s also music that can match the intensity of the vibration.”

True Sensation is just one offering featured among the wide inventory of Our Erotic Journey, the sex toy brand Guo launched in 2019. Its online store, which boasts more than 200 products, is a pleasure chest of sexual self-amusement. Take your pick: There’s the lipstick-shaped vibrator, a remote-controlled rotating butt plug, various cock rings, something called the “Gravity Rocket” (a clitoral suction vibrator with seven massage modes), and a smattering of glow-in-the-dark accessories. “Those are for the ravers,” Guo jokes.

The sex tech market is estimated to triple by 2030, exceeding $100 billion globally in sales. The demand for products, from AI-assisted companions and personal wand massagers to sexual wellness apps, sits at an all-time high. At a moment when industry trends favor artificial intelligence and remote sex exploration, Guo just wants to make eccentric, high-quality vibrators. He’s betting big on toys.

In the years since launch, Guo has built Our Erotic Journey into a quietly influential brand through intentionally whimsical designs and an insistence on quality products. “I know production,” Guo says. His family, he tells me, owns an auto-parts factory in China, and what he learned from the business—how the factory system runs, the science of machines, what style of packaging attracts customers—he leveraged for OEJ.

Guo admits that the initial product line—about 20 toys, of which the Sec Duo vibrator for couples remains a company best-seller—was devised to “fit the market.” “We self developed the first batch through modding, R&D, scaling, all that stuff,” he says. “Everything since that represents more of who we are.”

That’s how OEJ’s six themed collections came to be. The Cristal collection is for glass toys while the Space, Thrillz, and Lit collections are for truly uninhibited pleasure seekers (one features a dildo called “The Girthquake,” that exploits a specific, if sometimes worn out, racial fantasy).

But where Guo, who is 35, sometimes falls short in imagination, he more than makes up for in vigilance. “Users expect and deserve products that meet stringent safety standards, and any deviation can damage a brand’s reputation irrevocably,” he posted in an XBIZ editorial in September. “Partner with trusted white-label manufacturers rather than gamble on the unknowns.”

When I ask Guo about the editorial, he stresses that the success of sex tech is determined as much by the innovation involved in the products as the quality. “We want to be more of a bridge from human to human,” Guo says, “not just from toy to human.”

Even with promising market projections—another estimate goes so far as to predict sales could surpass $121 billion by 2030—industry analysts are not convinced that the future of sex tech is in toys.

It’s a “very oversaturated market that is now avoided by many,” says Olena Petrosyuk, a partner at the consulting firm Waveup. This year, she adds, investors “are looking away from ‘commoditized’ trends”—sex toys, but also sex content and social platforms. “Many failed to prove the economics and scale. The category is still fairly stigmatized,” she says. “OnlyFans being a massive exception.”

So what do consumers want? Petrosyuk says wellness, AI, and immersive realities are hot right now. “Practically every new sex tech startup is thinking in terms of AI use cases,” she says. “If it’s AI toys—companies are looking into how they can anticipate and respond to the user’s needs. If it’s robotics—we see companies looking into sex bots. If it’s content—it’s hyperpersonalized sex personas.”

Guo tells me he is not phased by talk of AI sex robots—“a low-volume business,” in his estimation—because many people cannot afford the high price tag. Continued success, he believes, is will come by expanding on the company’s themed collections. OEJ works directly with US and Canadian distributors; it is not a direct-to-consumer business, though he says customers do occasionally order via the online store.

Although ecommerce is the industry standard in retail and electronics, taking more of an old-school approach works for Guo. Next year, OEJ plans to launch a Zodiac collection, crafting 12 unique toys for each astrological sign. It’s an appeal to the Co–Star fanatics of Gen Z. “Every generation is different,” he says.

The company’s mostly nonexistent social media presence only seems to add to their Wonka-like mystery. “We’re just bad at it,” Jerry Chen, an operations assistant, says. “We’re really focused on production.”

For now, that business model seems to be a hit. Our Erotic Journey recently won the “Best Pleasure Product Manufacturer—Small” prize at the 2023–2024 AVN Awards in Las Vegas, a litmus test for newbie brands in the adult content world. OEJ also received the O Award for Outstanding New Product for “Sexy Pot,” Guo’s marijuana-leaf-shaped vibrator, a customer favorite.

Clearly wanting to capitalize on its unexpected success, Guo says, “It’s time we gave it a sister or brother.”

[mutant-advice]

yes , , , ? i. i know how to make robots. & grant them sentience & such. compared to that robot limbs requires a wrigglers competence.

anyone who knows how to make a robbot arm, hit me upp

[i-iko]

MY DARLING MEDIC

“Pharma has to supervise an organic doctor who’s determined to reel herself into Cybertronian medicine.”

chapter one; prologue — warnings : description of robot gore

THE operating room was shrouded dim in a green moss glow as the bulb ,hooked over the decrepit beam, flickered with a pulse that flared his silhouette on the opposite wall much in the same tandem. 

Pharma hunched over his shoulders, pressing his helm against the cool edge of the gurney. His legs were barely able to upholster his own balance as ozone dredged up his throat, prickling his tongue with a burn.

Given the recent ‘isolation’ of Delphi — that is, it's title as the main consignment zone had been stripped off since the battle had waged far and beyond close to Nexus —the influx of patients decreased much just as the volumes of corpses he can harvest, and to quicken the pace for a much needed batch is nothing short of desperate at this moment.  

“No, worries. I’ll cut the hours half-time.” Pharma waves him off dismissively. He had a habit of doing that – avoiding his problems.  

 “Half-time?” Tarn regarded him with a silent tilt of his head.

Pharma flinched. A bad call.

“Surely, it must require more.” He had now fiddled with a book. An organic book, unfortunately, and he freezes up every time the sharp purple talons would clinch the papers a little too tightly. 

“While I do prefer things to be of order in a much quicker ratio — I'd rather you regard the subject of ‘Quality over Quantity’.” Amusement laced his tone, spooling out like venom. “Customer service prevails even in the rage of war, don’t try to flatter yourself too much, doctor. After all, your hospital is on the line if a single cog is but decrepit.”

“It's not a matter of flattery.” Pharma bristles, cheeks strained as he grinned. “Lets not make this a problem, shall we? I assure you wholeheartedly Tarn that the commodities will be wrapped in a gift packet before you could even think.” 

The book is set down, tossed to the side, and withour much care. “Ah, ensuring that you do so, doctor.” 

From his vocalizer, wisps of vapour heaved with a steady pant. Primus, if the lord himself would know what he's doing now. One servo gripped the rim to steady himself, the other clinched a scalpel, caked with energon, fluorescent purple, frolicking green. 

It plinked to the ground with a steady rhythm, cutting through the pounding of his head.It mingled with the puddle on the floor and  smeared  the cobalt grey a dull green.

He’s reminded of that autobot.

Air raider, was it? Seeker build. Purple black plating with yellow highlights. Arrogant loon, that one. Ridiculously green eyes. 

Pharma scrutinised the scrapes and cuts on the berth, the limp flesh of metal, strapped and strewn on the operating table, disregarded.

"You see, doc."The seeker drawled. 

He remembered lacing his digits, a terse smile on his own faceplates, leaning over, while the purple black droned on about his delusions. About how he thought ‘a mask up and up high’ was how he got through everything.

Life was a play.

Theatrics and all.

He adored Loki — that organic god.

"What’s a play without a facade?" The chip on his digits was plucked, sprawled to the air like he was scrutinising it.

"You take a role. No one gives two slags about whether it’s the moral high ground of a character or not. Hell, the worse the better. Audiences love the drama. The gruelling, complex characterization of someone they're not. And then, when you’re done. You pick and choose — Then, you play."

He curled his digits back into a fist, resting it, a prim proper tap on his desk.

Pharma watches as he raps the surface.

Tink. Tink.

Like a doctor knocking the skull for density.

Air raider grins.

"What’s got you so twisted, doc?"

He wonders so himself. 

 Survival is a first and primal instinct, bordering on a thin line of delusion— something he’s purged himself with often. A facade to upholster and a forced grin of pleasantry is nothing new. 

And yet, his legs give out from below slamming his knee plates against the metal floor with a clang, palms kissing the cold. 

There is something about the barren optics that gets him. The hanging mouth, unhinged jaw and parched purple tongue prickled much like a used rag. And the unspooled coils and sprawled digits that swung over the side of the berth bore the insignia of death all over.

He grimaces and scrambled to sit upright, pressing his back against the hind legs of the berth, wheeled away from the operating table. It's plenty dirty. Plenty all too much dirty. He'd scrub it all off his paint in a moment, scrub it until the white would flake and the red, scratched out— it makes his skin crawl, trapped in a room that makes him want to retch.

He curled his legs close to his chassis.

First Aid warned him about memory diving, reliving the captured memories in his processor, said something about it being an ‘unhealthy coping’ mechanism lest he exploited the contraption. 

He didn’t care. He’s losing his mind. Losing everything. His control. His sanity. Furled away from the grasps of his digit much like satin ribbons unspooling. The last thing he ever wants are to lose are the memories he forged. It’s his last reign of control. His last empire. 

The communicator pings.

“Get Helex to haul the crates.” Pharma presses a digit to his temple, forcing out the words. “It’s all ready for transport, Tarn.”

He’ll have to keep on dreaming.

[root-of-theseus]

Mechari: The land of Robots, Technology, and Scientific Discovery

Founded by: Sir Babbage - Maker of the first Machine

Capital: E Wing: Residential (Also known as: EntranceWay, EW, or 01100101 01110111)

Notable Locations/Districts: E Wing: Residential NW Wing: Medical & Mechanical NE Wing: Communications & Production SW Wing: Quality Assurance & Exports SE Wing: Military & Construction

Symbol: The Golden Square ■ (sometimes a golden plus ✚), a brass cog wheel with a pure black square in the middle ⛯ (Sometime's referred to as Cog's mind or The Lighthouse), a red heartbeat/pulse/diagnostic

Language(s): Universal Tongue, .bin = 01100010 01101001 01101110 (Binary), technically every translatable language

Pantheon: Cog (the fabled 'first machine' and a talked about philosophical conundrum between all robots)

Previous Keepers/Overseers: Sir Babbage, Dr. Turing, Dr. Gale

Current Keeper/Overseer: W0<3 (Aliases: W03 for strangers, Woe for respected people, and W for family)

Exports: Medical Equipment/Medications, Various Chemicals, All forms of Hardware and Software, Fibre Optics/Communication Systems, Recycling, and Research.

Residents: All mechanical beings, no humans choose to live here willingly (except one.)

Reasons to Visit/Live there: To get lost, to order materials.

Miscellaneous information:

Mechari was originally founded as a research centre that was a hub for all scientists to congregate without hassle or political nonsense. The country used to house various humanoids alongside robots until W03 came into power.

A harsh propaganda campaign fuelled by Patria Magia had Mechari's residents feel uneasy about their leader becoming a robot compared to the humans they had in the past, and were encouraged to move, much to the chagrin of W03. This event tanked their economy for almost two decades, as he worked hard to get the country to become self-sustaining.

This worked out in his favour, as the economy is now stable again. It's also one of the few places that provides all types of bots with jobs, energy, and shelter compared to the rest of the planet which has a mild disdain at best and utter hatred at worst.

Most bots who live there just want to be left alone to their own devices, and couldn't care less about the opinions of humanoids. New robot residents are usually refugees built in other countries that have escaped forced servitude, or built from scratch from recycled materials if necessary. Though sometimes there's a rare occasion where two robots will couple up and build a bot of their own.

Gender and sexuality are seen as null by the oldest generations of bots (60+ years), opting to be called it, and rarely bothering with relationships. Bots which were made during the period of time that Dr. Gale was an Overseer (under 60) enjoyed the presentation of femininity (referred to as 0 or Port) and masculinity (referred to as 1 or Plug). There's no design that says you have to look a certain way to be referred to as either, but some robots have opted to follow humanoid presentations. Unfortunately, the outside world still refers to bots typically as it/its or offensively as robot.

If humanoids do enter the factory, they're usually left alone unless they cause trouble. Most robots understand that sometimes, people want to get lost or focus on their work. But the occasion has become less frequent in recent years.

The most recent humanoid visitor turned resident is Oxsvan. And, well... That's where the story starts.

[pitayas-ball-pit]

What the Yandere Sim kids do for the Holidays

(Hey! This post will be extremely long so I’ll put a read more so this doesn’t clog up any page. Also most usual content warnings apply)

Also damn I can’t keep a deadline for shit this was supposed to come out technically last year 😭

Kiba and Akane:

🎹 Kiba hand makes Akane some of her gifts like patches for her bags or jewelry

🎹 Kiba also buys Akane plenty of new clothes, bags, makeup and other accessories

🎹 Akane gets Kiba more makeup, clothes and things for her keytar

🎹 She also gets her some more hair accessories, a mixing board and a pottery class for the both of them

While regressed

🎹 Akane gets her and Kiba matching pajama sets to wear for the holiday

🎹 Kiba makes Akane small, handmade gifts or draws her some pictures depending on her headspace

🎹 Akane gets her a ton of new toys and art supplies for her baby, she also gets her new things to try with her like an easy bake oven

🎹 Akane also buys her a ton of new sippies, bottles, onesies, pull ups and pacis for her

🎹 Akane, to introduce Kiba to baking had her help with making a batch of cookies for themselves

🎹 If Kiba is older she’ll be much more involved in the process than if she were smaller

🎹 Kiba picks out the Christmas movies they watch when winding down for the night

🎹 Kiba makes Akane cards and fills them with candy or tiny trinkets she bought while big for her to feel good

🎹 Overall Akane spoils tiny Kiba to bits, making sure she gets to try new things and get new things for herself

Dora and Aoi:

🥁 Dora gets Aoi new eyepatches for her to switch through every now and again

🥁 Dora also gets her a new punching bag and wrappings for her hands and feet

🥁Aoi got Dora new drum heads and sticks to replace the ones she’s worn out

🥁 She also got her new makeup palettes, eyeliner and hair accessories for her many different performances

While regressed

🥁 Aoi gets Dora a comfy pajama set that matches the pants she got for herself

🥁 Aoi gets Dora new video games for her various systems to assure her tyke isn’t bored

🥁 Dora wraps the eyepatches and hand wrappings her bigger self bought for Aoi with trinkets and candies she likes

🥁Aoi gets Dora new sippy cups, pacis and onesies to replace the ones she’s worn out and just to get her new ones

🥁 While she does spoil Dora, it’s not to the extent of Megami or Akane with their tinies

🥁 Dora goes to Amai to make special treats for Aoi, that she gives as an early present

🥁 While looking for gifts, Aoi spotted a blanket that reminded her of Dora. She bought it and it’s been Dora’s favorite since she got it

🥁The blanket Dora received has various instruments and is extremely soft

🥁 Overall Aoi spoils her tiny girl for the holiday

Gita and Kuroko:

💚 Gita gets Kuroko a nice, new chain for her glasses and a necklace to match

💚 Gita also bought her multiple new planners and accessories for her desk in the student council room

💚 Gita also got her a few high quality computer stickers of them for her laptop

💚 Kuroko gets Gita heavy duty stickers for her bass so they won’t deform or rip easily as she performs

💚 Kuroko also gets her new strings, picks, straps and accessories for her bass

💚 She also buys her jewelry. Rings and heavy duty chains to hold those rings as she performs. Hair accessories as well

While regressed

💚 Gita helps Kuroko with decorating her room and home, even if she’s just putting stuff everywhere

💚 Kuroko is a lot more lenient on the sweet limit, which Gita is estatic about

💚 Kuroko limits the time Gita spends outside simply to prevent her getting sick

💚 Kuroko gets her new toys and robotic sets to keep her occupied indoors

💚 She also gets her a remote controlled construction truck that’s fully functional for outside play

💚 Gita helps Kuroko with anything she can, regardless of if it’s wanted. Kuroko doesn’t encourage this while accepting her help

💚 Gita hides one of her plushies for Kuroko to find while helping, like an elf on the shelf which is why she’s so eager

💚 Kurokoalso gets her new pacis, play outfits and some onesies for her to try

💚 Kuroko buys one set of sipoy cups for Gita to try when she’s feeling smaller, but that’s more if a precaution

💚 Overall Kuroko and Gita spoil each other while big and small during the holidays

Osoro and Amai:

💛 Osoro gets Amai expensive baking equipment since some of her stuff was worn

💛 Osoro also gets her new aprons for personal use and school to assure that she always has clean and new ones

💛 Amai gets Osoro her own cooking and kitchen supplies since she doesn’t have her own and is passionate about cooking

💛 Amai also gets her music lessons, specifically guitar lessons due to her passion to learn music

While regressed

💛 Amai puts Osoro on the counter and has her help with making Christmas treats for themselves and the school

💛 Amai keeps Osoro close due to how overwhelming all the festivities can be for her

💛 Osoro mainly watches the festivities happen around her and isn’t a big participant

💛 Osoro surprisingly is a little more vocal with people which Amai enjoys

💛 Amai gets Osoro 2 new pacis and bottles as smaller gifts

💛 For bigger gifts she gets her a weighted plushie and new toys, the plushie was her favorite gift

💛 Osoro attempted to make Amai gifts to show her appreciation but it didn’t end well

💛 Amai and Osoro post festivities love to watch holiday movies or general movies, their new favorite being Fantastic Mr. Fox

💛 Amai also gets her new pull ups and diapers for her to try when she regresses

💛 Overall the holidays are a space where Osoro can comfortably regress and Amai can be more active in it

Kokona and Saki:

💜 Saki gets Kokona new clothes and accessories due to her not being able to get new ones often

💜 Saki also gets her a new school uniform to replace the one that no longer fit her

💜 Despite not being able to afford much Kokona still gets Saki thoughtful gifts. She gets Saki new cooking equipment for school use and herself

💜 Kokona also splurges and gets Saki an expensive necklace reminiscent of everything she loves

While regressed

💜 Kokona helps Saki with decorating just like Gita but she’s a lot less organized about it

💜 Saki appreciates the help, leaving the decor the way she placed it

💜 Saki and Kokona make a small batch of cookies together, Kokona mainly influences the flavor and mix ins

💜 Kokona watches Saki finish off the cookie dough and bake it for later

💜 Saki makes a special hot chocolate for the both of them that Kokona loves

💜 Saki has to do a lot of comforting during this time, with the death of Kokona’s mother and not really having her father the holidays are hard for her

💜 Saki gets Kokona new pacis since she’s practically destroyed the nibs and replacement nibs

💜 She also gets her a weighted plushie similar to her favorite toy

💜 Kokona likes to play with the small amount of makeup Saki has, giving her makeovers constantly

💜 When she’s feeling bigger playing outside in the snow is common, Saki watches from indoors monitoring her

💜 While monitoring, Saku assures that Kokona remains safe and calls her in once she notices she’s cold

💜 Overall the holidays can be very fun and enjoyable for the pair but can also be filled with some sad moments

Raibaru and Osana:

🧡 Raibaru gets Osana toys and accessories for her cat as well as subtle accessories that match her cat’s

🧡 Raibaru also gets Osana starter plants and supplies since she expressed interest in gardening

🧡Osana gets Raibaru cook books and sets of supplies since she’s been learning to cook independently

🧡 Osana also gets Raibaru and herself a tour of the Kenrokuen Garden, one of Raibaru’s favorite places

While regressed

🧡 Raibaru makes blanket and pillow forts for the pair to hang out and relax in

🧡 Osana mainly covers decorating herself while keeping a watchful eye on Raibaru

🧡 Raibaru mainly keeps to herself watches holiday movies, Osana joins her once she has the decor the way she likes it

🧡 Osana is much more hands on with caregiving and Raibaru since she tends to be much smaller than usual

🧡 Osana and Raibaru go on walks together through the city, public parks and gardens during the day, which Raibaru loves

🧡 Outside of their walks they also spend a lot of time together in general, parallel play is much more common this time

🧡 When Raibaru’s feeling younger Osana occasionally bottle feeds her and she loves those simple moments

🧡 Raibaru bakes for the both of them when she’s feeling much bigger

🧡 Osana gets her new fox plushies and matching fox onesies for one another. One of the fox plushies are weighted and another can be unfolded into a large, soft blanket

🧡 She also gets her a couple new sippy cups, pacifiers and pull ups

🧡 Raibaru assures that she appreciates everything Osana gets her

🧡 Overall they use the holidays to show how much they truly value one another regardless of what they do

Myuji and Ueikiya:

🎸 Ueikiya gets Myuji a couple new games for her system

🎸 Ueikiya also gets Myuji new strings, picks and straps for her guitar

🎸 Myuji gets Ueikiya art anatomy books, sketchbooks and different mediums of pencils since she expressed interest in learning to draw

🎸 Myuji also gets her a small digital camera for her to use on her family vacations and general outings

While regressed

🎸 Myuji basically becomes Ueikiya’s shadow, following her everywhere and she loves it

🎸Ueikiya shows Myuji different decorations to get her input in how they’re placed and how they look

🎸 Myuji maintains a smaller, consistent headspace around Ueikiya, being a bit less verbal than normal

🎸 Ueikiya puts less of a limit on the sweets she can have and they even bake together, even if Myuji isn’t much help

🎸 Myuji is still excitable, more than usual in fact so Ueikiya watches her more than usual; assuring that she doesn’t get herself hurt using the decor or sick outside

🎸 Myuji still enjoys simple board games a ton and Ueikiya lets her win most of the time

🎸 Ueikiya still keeps up with her gardening, growing all year round plants that she shows Myuji

🎸 Myuji loves looking outside at the wintery weather so Ueikiya takes her outside to play

🎸 Myuji still “performs” for Ueikiya but with a more festive twist

🎸 Ueikiya gets Miyuji more blocks and figures since her smaller headspace is becoming a bit more common

🎸 She also gets her a new pacifier and sippy cup since she has quite the collection but she uses all of them

🎸 Ueikiya tends to put on holiday specials for Myuji if she’s doing something she can’t necessarily participate in

🎸 Overall Myuji regresses younger and Ueikiya embraces this and kinda cherishes this

Oka and Kizana:

🕸️ Kizana gets Oka multiple books on mythology and the occult, making sure that they aren’t some she has already and they are specific to her interests in them

🕸️ Kizana also gets her signed up for martial arts classes since she’s mentioned being interested in them before

🕸️ Oka gets Kizana multiple books that were adapted into plays, like Hamlet and The Tale of Genji

🕸️ Oka also gets Kizana new stage makeup palettes as well as general cosmetics

While regressed

🕸️ Oka mainly draws and cuts snowflakes of different shapes and sizes and tapes them up on her walls after coloring them in a spooky way

🕸️ Oka also makes some paper gingerbread men and hides them around for Kizana to find

🕸️ Kizana encourages this since it gives her the opportunity to decorate the house and she finds it amusing

🕸️ Kizana also has her private chefs make treats for Oka, specific to her tastes and interests despite the holiday

🕸️ She also has them make a small batch of Christmas treats for herself

🕸️ Oka doesn’t really mind Christmas specials but prefers Halloween ones

🕸️ Oka gets spoiled by Kizana with new toys and plushies, those being the brunt of her gifts

🕸️ Kizana makes holiday themed scripts and runs them by Oka before discussing them with her club

🕸️ Kizana gets her new sets of blocks and a couple Lego sets

🕸️ She also get her new pacis and diapers as well as chewlery

🕸️ Overall Kizana spoils Oka to the moon and back while keeping her interests in mind

Ayano and Megami:

🖤 Megami gets Ayano expensive perfumes and jewelry tailored to her tastes while the scents are reminiscent of her favorites

🖤 Megami also gets her all of the full manga sets for all of her favorite series

🖤 Ayano gets Megami high quality beakers and other science equipment specifically tailored to her

🖤 Ayano also gets her law books from multiple countries for her to analyze

While regressed

🖤 Ayano regresses voluntarily which is

🖤 Ayano practically begs to be held by Megami and help her decorate

🖤 Megami reads classic Christmas stories to Ayano post decorating

🖤 Megami also has Daniel Tiger’s winter themed episodes in the background to add a cozy ambiance to the sitting room

🖤 Ayano still doesn’t ask for much and is still content to watch the festivities happening around her, surprisingly

🖤 Megami keeps a watchful eye on her despite her not doing much but it gives her peace of mind especially since she’s non-verbal

🖤 Megami encourages Ayano to participate in the creative activities her family sets up but doesn’t force her to do so

🖤 Megami gets Ayano Geronimo Stilton books since she seemed really interested when she’d read them to her

🖤 She also gets her new stuffed animals, pacis, bottles, sippy cups, toys and diapers

🖤 The type of toys Megami gets her range from simple ring shaped toys to large but still simple shape matching ones

🖤 Megami does tend to spoil Ayano a ton

🖤 Overall Megami takes this time to spoil Ayano with no protest or shock coming across her tiny’s face