#AI Master Class

[unifycloudin]

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microsoft #crayon #businessintelligence #smccompany #Microsoft365 #Microsoft_AI #WebinarAlert #webinar #levrage #webinar2024

informeddecisions #insightsdiscovery #unifycloud #smallbusinesstips

insights #cloud #cloudapplications #hrcommunity #management #datamanagement #finance #salesforceadministrator #administration #hroperations #startup

Unlock the potential of Microsoft AI in service management! Join our exclusive Master Class tailored for Service Management Company (SMC) professionals.

Date : 14th Feb 2024 Time : 11am to 12pm

microsoft #crayon #businessintelligence #smccompany #Microsoft365 #Microsoft_AI #WebinarAlert #webinar #levrage #webinar2024

informeddecisions #insightsdiscovery #unifycloud #smallbusinesstips

insights #cloud #cloudapplications #hrcommunity #management #datamanagement #finance #salesforceadministrator #administration #hroperations #startup

[molinaskies]

Okay jokes aside about how the DLC is the new true ending, the original The End fight actually makes me emotional

[chronomally]

There's almost no way I get an A in this class, which pisses me off to no end, but as long as I turn in SOMETHING for my final project, I'm definitely getting a B

[digicrome]

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[fullmoonandstar]

I'm stuck at writing a scene and asked chat/cpt to write me something. It's so bad XD

The prompt was

"write a dialog between Cynthia and Alex where Alex talks about his work as a successful manager at a bank. He is trying to impress Cynthia but it is uncomfortably clear that he only sees Cynthia as a trophy to be won with no real interest in her."

Enjoy!!

Cynthia: Hey Alex, how have you been? It's been a while since we caught up.

Alex: Hey Cynthia! I've been great, thanks for asking. Busy with work, you know how it is. Speaking of which, let me tell you about my recent accomplishments as a successful manager at the bank. I've been making some major moves lately.

Cynthia: Oh, that sounds impressive. I'd love to hear more about it.

Alex: Well, where do I begin? I've been overseeing a team of talented individuals and leading them to achieve extraordinary results. Our branch has experienced exponential growth, and I've played a significant role in increasing our profits.

Cynthia: Wow, that's quite impressive. It sounds like you're excelling in your career.

Alex: Absolutely. I take great pride in my work, Cynthia. Being a manager at a prestigious bank like this requires a lot of dedication and strategic thinking. I've always been ambitious, and I never settle for anything less than the best.

Cynthia: I can tell you're very driven and ambitious. It must be rewarding to see your hard work paying off.

Alex: It definitely is. I believe in setting high goals and pushing myself to achieve them. But you know, Cynthia, it's not just about the career. I'm always looking for new challenges and exciting opportunities, both personally and professionally.

Cynthia: That's great to hear. It's important to have a well-rounded life and pursue different interests. So, what other interests or passions do you have outside of work?

Alex: Well, to be honest, my work takes up most of my time and energy. But that's why I find it important to have someone special by my side, like you, Cynthia. Someone who can support me and be there for me while I conquer the corporate world.

Cynthia: Uh, thank you, Alex. I appreciate the sentiment, but it sounds like you view me more as a status symbol rather than a genuine companion.

Alex: Oh no, Cynthia, that's not what I meant at all. You're a beautiful and accomplished woman, and I truly believe we would make a power couple. Together, we could be the envy of everyone around us.

Cynthia: I see. It's disappointing to hear that your interest in me is primarily based on external appearances and how we would appear together. I'm looking for someone who values me for who I am as a person, not just as a trophy to be won.

Alex: Cynthia, I'm sorry if it came across that way. I didn't mean to diminish your worth or reduce you to a trophy. I just thought we could complement each other well, considering our respective achievements.

Cynthia: It's okay, Alex. I appreciate your honesty, but I'm looking for someone who sees me as an equal partner, someone who genuinely wants to get to know me and connect on a deeper level. I hope you understand.

Alex: I understand, Cynthia. I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression. I'll take some time to reflect on what you've said and try to be more mindful of my approach in the future.

Cynthia: I appreciate that, Alex. It's important to be self-aware and considerate of others' feelings. I wish you the best in your career and hope you find someone who appreciates you for more than just your accomplishments.

Alex: Thank you, Cynthia. I've learned a valuable lesson today, and I'll strive to be a better person moving forward. Take care of yourself, and I hope you find what you're looking for as well.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

ETA: I wrote up a guide on clues that a foraging book was written by AI here!

[Original Tweet source here.]

[RANT AHEAD]

Okay, yeah. This is a very, very, very bad idea. I understand that there is a certain flavor of techbro who has ABSOLUTELY zero problem with this because "AI is the future, bro", and we're supposed to be reading their articles on how to use AI for side hustles and all that.

I get that ID apps have played into people's tendency to want quick and easy answers to everything (I'm not totally opposed to apps, but please read about how an app does not a Master Naturalist make.) But nature identification is serious stuff, ESPECIALLY when you are trying to identify whether something is safe to eat, handle, etc. You have to be absolutely, completely, 100000% sure of your ID, and then you ALSO have to absolutely verify that it is safely handled and consumed by humans.

As a foraging instructor, I cannot emphasize this enough. My classes, which are intended for a general audience, are very heavy on identification skills for this very reason. I have had (a small subsection of) students complain that I wasn't just spending 2-3 hours listing off bunches of edible plants and fungi, and honestly? They can complain all they want. I am doing MY due diligence to make very sure that the people who take my classes are prepared to go out and start identifying species and then figure out their edibility or lack thereof.

Because it isn't enough to be able to say "Oh, that's a dandelion, and I think this might be an oyster mushroom." It's also not enough to say "Well, such-and-such app says this is Queen Anne's lace and not poison hemlock." You HAVE to have incredibly keen observational skills. You HAVE to be patient enough to take thorough observations and run them through multiple forms of verification (field guides, websites, apps, other foragers/naturalists) to make sure you have a rock-solid identification. And then you ALSO have to be willing to read through multiple sources (NOT just Wikipedia) to determine whether that species is safely consumed by humans, and if so if it needs to be prepared in a particular way or if there are inedible/toxic parts that need to be removed.

AND--this phenomenon of AI-generated crapola emphasizes the fact that in addition to all of the above, you HAVE to have critical thinking skills when it comes to assessing your sources. Just because something is printed on a page doesn't mean it's true. You need to look at the quality of the information being presented. You need to look at the author's sources. You need to compare what this person is saying to other books and resources out there, and make sure there's a consensus.

You also need to look at the author themselves and make absolutely sure they are a real person. Find their website. Find their bio. Find their social media. Find any other manners in which they interact with the world, ESPECIALLY outside of the internet. Contact them. Ask questions. Don't be a jerk about it, because we're just people, but do at least make sure that a book you're interested in buying is by a real person. I guarantee you those of us who are serious about teaching this stuff and who are internet-savvy are going to make it very easy to find who we are (within reason), what we're doing, and why.

Because the OP in that Tweet is absolutely right--people are going to get seriously ill or dead if they try using AI-generated field guides. We have such a wealth of information, both on paper/pixels and in the brains of active, experienced foragers, that we can easily learn from the mistakes of people in the past who got poisoned, and avoid their fate. But it does mean that you MUST have the will and ability to be impeccably thorough in your research--and when in doubt, throw it out.

My inbox is always open. I'm easier caught via email than here, but I will answer. You can always ask me stuff about foraging, about nature identification, etc. And if there's a foraging instructor/author/etc. with a website, chances are they're also going to be more than willing to answer questions. I am happy to direct you to online groups on Facebook and elsewhere where you have a whole slew of people to compare notes with. I want people's foraging to be SAFE and FUN. And AI-generated books aren't the way to make that happen.

[th3mrskory]

Lessons in Desire

Pairing: fem!Reader x Professor!Logan

Warning: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, explicit language, coercion, power play, handjob, fingering.

Summary: In the classroom, their power dynamics shift, drawing them closer to the edge of what’s acceptable. Caught between desire and the threat of scandal, they push past boundaries, each unable to deny the magnetic pull between them. But with stakes this high, the real question is: how much will they sacrifice for a forbidden passion they can’t control?

Word count: 7.7 k

A/N:For those that know me know that I love history (it was almost my major but life happened), so this was me basically thirsting over this pictures of Hugh and imagining him as my history teacher. Yes I’m exposing myself, anyways I hope you guys like it. If you guys have ideas that you would like to share with me, please let me know, and maybe we can create something. I’m rambling … please enjoy!

© th3mrskory. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. I only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

"Power is not always obvious," Professor Logan said, his eyes scanning the room, catching the attention of his students. "It doesn’t always come with a crown or a title. Sometimes it comes with a whisper, a glance, a gesture. And sometimes—sometimes it comes when you least expect it."

The lecture hall was a quiet hum, a symphony of the mundane—pens scratching against paper, the rustle of pages turning. Logan’s voice carried through the room, steady and calm, but beneath it ran an undercurrent of something else. He spoke of empires, of power, of rulers who bent the world to their will. His words were sharp, his delivery precise, but always with an edge of something darker, something more elusive.

His eyes lingered a moment longer on Y/N, sitting at the front, her pen poised over her notes. She was one of the best in the class, her focus unwavering, her understanding evident in the way she took in every word. He could see the intellect in her eyes, but there was something else too—a quiet defiance, a knowing. She met his gaze for just a fraction of a second before looking back down at her notes, but in that brief exchange, the air between them shifted.

"History," Logan continued, his voice low and resonant, "is full of those who understood this—those who knew how to wield influence without ever raising a sword." He let the words linger in the air, letting the students process, but his eyes were already searching, narrowing as they locked onto a figure in the front row—Y/N.

She sat with her chin propped in one hand, a look of quiet disinterest in her eyes as she scribbled down a few notes. Her friends, a small cluster of chatterboxes seated next to her, whispered among themselves, the occasional giggle slipping through the otherwise hushed atmosphere. Y/N didn’t seem to mind; her eyes drifted lazily over Logan, then back to her friends, her attention more drawn to the familiar cadence of their conversation than to the lecture itself.

Logan could feel her presence, could sense the way she seemed to float above his words. She was too intelligent to be completely consumed by his lecture, and perhaps that was the greatest challenge—how to captivate someone who had already mastered the material long before it was ever spoken aloud. And yet, every now and then, she would glance back at him, those eyes meeting his with a flicker of something unspoken. It was the same each class—brief, fleeting, but enough to remind him of the subtle power they held in each other's gaze.

"But what happens," Logan’s voice dipped lower, growing more intense, "when the power shifts? When authority is tested?" He paused, holding her attention a moment longer, the words weighing more heavily now. "We’ll see that today."

A student in the back row raised a hand, his voice eager. "Professor, are you suggesting that power is always a matter of perception? That someone can be in control without others even knowing?"

Logan glanced at the student, a brief flicker of amusement crossing his features. "Exactly," he replied, his eyes shifting back to Y/N, even though he answered the question. "Power often hides itself in plain sight—subtle, insidious. True power doesn’t need to announce its presence."

Another student chimed in, this time from the middle row. "So, like—manipulation?"

Logan paused, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Manipulation," he said, eyes narrowing with a trace of something dangerous, "can be a tool, if wielded wisely." His gaze, though, remained fixed on Y/N. "But power, true power, is about controlling the game without ever touching the pieces."

The students exchanged murmurs, their intrigue growing, but Logan’s focus never fully left Y/N. She wasn’t engaged in the discussion—not like the others—yet there was something about the way she let his words wash over her that made her more dangerous to him than any of the others. 

"Take the rulers of ancient Rome," Logan continued, seamlessly drawing the class back in, his tone now lighter, almost conversational. "They understood this very well. The true power wasn’t in the Senate or the legions, but in the whispers of the people. In the alliances made not on the battlefield, but in the shadows."

Y/N’s eyes flicked back to him, a moment of acknowledgment passing between them. She was listening now, more intently than before, but only just. Logan could feel it—how her mind moved faster than his words, how she already knew the direction he was going. And yet, something about the way she looked at him—something in that moment—made him pause, made the tension between them swell, palpable and thick.

Before he could finish his thought, Y/N interrupted him, her voice cutting through the air, the usual quiet of the room briefly shattered. "You’re going to tell us that real power isn’t in war or force, but in control, right?" Her words hung in the air, bold and playful, a challenge and a tease all at once.

Logan blinked, momentarily taken aback, but his gaze sharpened. His lips curled, not into a smile, but something more dangerous—acknowledgment, maybe even respect. "Control?" He leaned forward, his voice lowering, drawing her in. "Yes, it’s about control. But it’s not just any control. It’s the kind that’s invisible, the kind that makes others think they’re in charge while you hold the strings."

A flicker of something passed through Y/N’s eyes, a sharpness that matched his own. "Manipulation," she replied, her tone low but deliberate, her gaze never leaving his.

The words hung between them, charged. Logan’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She’s onto me, he thought, and that thought sent a current through him, an unfamiliar thrill. "If you want to call it that," he said, his voice low and smooth. "But manipulation only works if you understand who you’re manipulating—and why. It’s about knowing how to move, when to act, and when to let things fall into place."

Y/N didn’t flinch, her eyes never wavering. She leaned back slightly in her chair, arms crossed, as though she were more an observer than a student. "And when does the power shift?" she asked, tilting her head. "What happens then?"

Logan’s gaze shifted, a slight pause before he answered. He had expected her to be sharp, but this was something different. "When the power shifts," he said slowly, his voice turning almost wistful, "you learn who really holds it."

The room settled into a quiet anticipation, the kind that only arose when the lecture strayed from the script. Logan turned to the chalkboard, picking up a piece of chalk and scrawling a name in bold strokes: Julius Caesar. The classroom watched, but Y/N’s eyes followed the movement with an almost lazy attentiveness, her focus as sharp as it was disinterested.

"Take Caesar," Logan began, his back to the room. "Brilliant general. Unstoppable conqueror. But what truly made him dangerous wasn’t his victories on the battlefield." He underlined the name, his strokes precise. "It was the way he made himself indispensable to Rome—how he turned loyalty into a weapon."

He turned back to face the class, letting his eyes drift again to Y/N, who hadn’t moved, her expression inscrutable. "He didn’t just seize power. He made them give it to him. The Senate, the people—they thought they were in control. But every step they took to restrain him only tightened his hold on them."

A hand shot up near the back of the room. "Wasn’t that what got him killed, though? Didn’t the Senate turn on him because they felt he had too much power?"

Logan’s mouth curved into a faint smile. "Exactly. But even in his death, Caesar proved his point. The Republic collapsed soon after, and the empire he had envisioned took its place. His name—his legacy—became synonymous with authority. Even those who conspired against him couldn’t escape his influence."

He leaned back against his desk, arms folding loosely across his chest. "So, the question isn’t whether power shifts. It always does. The question is—" his gaze swept over the class, settling on Y/N once more, "—who has prepared for the moment when it does?"

Her friends exchanged murmurs beside her, but Y/N stayed silent. Her fingers tapped idly on the edge of her notebook, her posture casual, but there was something coiled beneath it, something deliberate. She tilted her head, her lips parting as though to speak, but then she stopped, a ghost of a smile brushing her face as she leaned back again.

Logan noticed the hesitation. His jaw tightened, just for a moment, before he turned his attention back to the broader audience. "In Rome," he continued, voice steady, "Caesar’s power wasn’t in the Senate or the legions. It was in his ability to command the loyalty of others. He made them believe in him, even as he dismantled everything they held sacred."

The room buzzed faintly with whispers, but Logan didn’t silence them. He allowed the undercurrent to fill the space, his words sinking in slowly. He glanced at the clock—five minutes until the hour.

"All right," he said, his tone shifting to something lighter, "we’ll stop there for today. Read the chapters on Rome’s transition from Republic to Empire. And," he added, his gaze briefly flitting to Y/N, "consider what it takes to hold power without ever appearing to grasp it."

The students began to shuffle their things, the noise of zippers and chair legs scraping against the floor filling the room. Y/N stood, slipping her notebook into her bag as her friends chatted beside her. But as she made her way toward the door, Logan’s voice cut through the hum.

"Y/N," he called, his tone neutral but firm. "Do you have a minute?"

Her friends shot her curious glances, but she waved them off. "I’ll catch up," she said, her voice easy, almost careless. She turned back toward Logan, stepping away from the others.

He waited until the room had cleared, the door clicking shut behind the last student, before he spoke. "I need some help with grading," he said, his words measured. "“I could use some extra hands this evening—are you available?”

Y/N raised a brow, her lips quirking in faint amusement. "Grading? Or a lesson in subtlety?"

Logan’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. "We’ll see," he replied, his tone low, charged.

She considered him for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. When and where?"

"My office," he said simply. "Six o’clock."

Y/N didn’t respond, but the glance she gave him was answer enough before she turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the empty classroom.

Logan remained seated on the edge of his desk as the classroom door swung shut behind her. The faint click of her heels against the hallway floor lingered in his ears, each step an echo, a countdown. He exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, his fingers catching briefly before dropping back to his side. The room, now empty, felt larger somehow, its silence almost accusatory.

Grading. The excuse had come so easily, almost too easily, but it was better than nothing. He couldn’t very well say what was really on his mind—hell, even he wasn’t sure what that was. All he knew was that when she spoke, when her gaze pinned him in place, the careful structure he maintained in his world started to shift, brick by brick.

He pushed himself off the desk, straightening his tie as he crossed the room to gather his notes. His handwriting, normally steady, seemed slightly uneven today. He glanced at the last page, where his lecture had trailed off into a cluster of jagged phrases—power, perception, control. He closed the notebook sharply, the sound satisfying in the empty space.

By the time six o’clock rolled around, Logan was in his office. The space was small but personal—bookshelves crammed with volumes of history and philosophy, their spines worn from years of abuse. A map of the ancient world hung on one wall, dotted with small push pins marking significant events. His desk, a heavy wooden piece with years of scratches and scars, was cluttered with papers, a half-empty coffee cup, and a small brass figurine of a Roman eagle.

The knock on his door was soft, but deliberate. He glanced up, already knowing who it would be. "Come in," he said, his voice steady, betraying none of the anticipation simmering beneath the surface.

Y/N stepped inside, her expression calm, almost detached, but her eyes gave her away—bright, alert, scanning the room in a single sweep before settling on him. She carried her bag over one shoulder, her free hand resting casually on the strap.

"You’re early," he remarked, leaning back in his chair.

She shrugged, letting the door click shut behind her. "Figured I’d get this over with."

Logan smirked, gesturing toward the chair opposite him. "Glad to know I’m such a burden."

Y/N didn’t sit immediately. Instead, she wandered a few steps, her fingers lightly grazing the edge of one of the bookshelves as she glanced over the titles. "You’ve got a lot of books about power," she noted, her tone light but probing.

"Comes with the territory," he replied. "History is about power—who has it, who wants it, and what they’ll do to keep it."

She turned then, meeting his gaze. "And you? Are you one of those who want it?"

Logan’s smirk faded, replaced by something quieter, more guarded. "You don’t get to ask questions like that without sitting down first."

Y/N tilted her head, amused, but she complied, settling into the chair across from him. She crossed one leg over the other.

"So," she said, breaking the silence, "grading. What’s the plan?"

Logan slid a small stack of papers across the desk, his fingers brushing hers briefly as she reached for them. "Freshman essays on Rome’s decline. Half of them won’t even spell Caesar right."

Y/N flipped through the stack, her expression unreadable. "Sounds riveting."

"Welcome to my world," he said dryly.

For a while, they worked in near silence, the occasional rustle of papers or scratch of pen filling the air. But Logan couldn’t help watching her, the way her brow furrowed slightly as she read, the way her fingers tapped absently against the desk when she paused to think.

"You're good at this," he said after a while, his voice breaking the quiet.

She glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "At grading?"

"At analysis," he clarified. "You see things most people don’t."

Y/N set the paper she’d been holding back on the desk, leaning forward slightly. "And what do you see, Professor?"

Logan met her gaze, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, the air heavier. "Someone who doesn’t like being underestimated," he said simply.

Her lips twitched, not quite a smile, but something close. "Good," she said softly. "Because you’d be wrong if you did."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of the unspoken hanging between them. Then, Y/N leaned back, breaking the tension. "So, what’s the verdict on these essays? Anyone worth saving?"

Logan blinked, the spell broken, and glanced at the stack. "A couple, maybe. But how is it possible,” he muttered, “to spend weeks discussing the rise and fall of empires, only for them to write that Julius Caesar’s greatest achievement was dying?”

Y/N burst out laughing, the sound breaking the otherwise quiet room. She set down her pen, shaking her head. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Logan picked up the offending essay and held it out to her. “See for yourself. Apparently, his second-greatest achievement was ‘Romeo and Juliet.’”

She snorted, her eyes scanning the page as she leaned over the desk. “This is tragic. This one essay could single-handedly set the entire field of history back by centuries.”

“Well, at least they’re consistent,” Logan said dryly, tossing another essay into the reject pile. “This one thought the ‘divine right of kings’ was God handing out crowns like participation trophies.”

Y/N laughed again, the sound warm and unguarded, and Logan found himself watching her for a beat longer than necessary. Her shoulders shook as she leaned back in her chair, an easy confidence radiating off her.

“So, what about you?” he asked, shifting the focus. “How’s your thesis coming along?”

“Slowly,” she admitted, crossing her arms. “I’ve narrowed it down to the influence of religion on political systems, but it’s like peeling back an onion. Every time I think I’m getting somewhere, there’s another layer waiting.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’re taking on a beast of a topic. What angle are you focusing on?”

“The shift from divine justification to secular authority,” Y/N replied, her tone more serious now. “How religion was weaponized to maintain control, and how that control evolved when religion started losing its grip.”

A flicker of respect passed through his eyes, though he kept his tone light. “Ambitious. Let me guess—you’re arguing it’s all manipulation in the end?”

She smiled, tilting her head. “What else would it be? Power is power, whether it’s cloaked in faith or reason. It’s still about controlling people.”

Logan leaned back slightly in his chair, his pen tapping idly against the desk. His gaze lingered on her, thoughtful yet laced with curiosity. “You’ve got your thesis to worry about, and still, you’re helping me out. I appreciate it. I just hope I’m not keeping you from anything—or anyone—important. A boyfriend waiting for you, perhaps?”

Y/N snorted softly, her lips curling into a wry smile. “Hardly. He’s low-maintenance.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her answer. “Low-maintenance? What does that mean?”

Y/N’s gaze flicked to him, mischief dancing in her eyes. “It means he’s rechargeable. Silent. Never argues. And he always knows when to stop.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, his voice smooth as he leaned forward just slightly. “So, he’s an easy out? No strings attached?”

“Exactly,” she replied, her tone playful. “No messy complications. Just... straight to the point.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and rich, almost predatory. “Hmm, sounds like you’ve found the perfect solution. Clean, uncomplicated.”

Y/N’s eyes twinkled with amusement, but there was a steel edge beneath her teasing tone. “I like things simple. No mind games. No drama. Just... what I need, when I need it.”

Logan leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharpening, intrigued by the calm confidence she wore. “Control. You’ve got that down to an art, haven’t you? Even in your... choice of company.”

She met his gaze, a sly smile curving her lips. “I learned from the best.”

Logan paused, his breath caught for just a moment, before he let out a quiet chuckle. “Flattery. That’s a dangerous game.”

Y/N’s smile deepened, her voice low but unwavering. “Maybe. But I’m not the one playing it.”

The brief silence between them felt charged, the space between words crackling with unspoken thoughts. Y/N allowed a small, almost imperceptible smile to form as she leaned back slightly in her chair, her gaze steady on him. She tilted her head, her expression one of quiet challenge. “And what about you, Professor?” she asked casually, her voice laced with a hint of mischief. “Anyone waiting for you back home?”

Logan’s eyes darkened briefly, his expression shifting as he leaned back in his chair. The pen in his hand tapped against the desk, a rhythmic, deliberate motion that betrayed his otherwise calm demeanor. “No,” he said after a beat, his voice carrying an edge sharper than intended. “Commitment’s not really my style. I’m more of a... here-and-now kind of guy.”

Y/N’s brow lifted, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “‘A here-and-now kind of guy,’” she repeated softly, the words brushing the air between them like a challenge. Her smile deepened, almost wistful. “That’s... disappointing.”

Logan’s gaze flickered for a moment, though his expression remained controlled, as if weighing her words, testing the waters. “Maybe,” he said, his voice quieter, almost nonchalant. “But complications have a way of unraveling things you don’t want to lose. Simpler’s safer.” He let the words hang in the air, deliberately guiding the conversation.

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes never leaving his. “Uncomplicated, sure,” she murmured, her voice soft but threaded with a quiet challenge. “But sometimes, don’t you think... what you’re missing is worth the complication?” Her words lingered in the air, but there was an almost imperceptible softness to her tone—a fleeting crack in her otherwise cool demeanor. Logan noted it, watching her with a careful, calculated look.

Logan smiled, just slightly, letting the moment breathe. “Maybe,” he replied, his voice now cooler, as though he were drawing back, pulling her deeper into the web without her fully realizing it. “But I’ve found that sometimes, it’s easier to avoid the... complications. Keeps things from getting messy.”

He let that hang in the air too, deliberately creating space, knowing the pause would make her respond. He met her gaze again, just long enough for her to sense his scrutiny. “You wouldn’t want that, right? Complications?”

Her lips curled into a soft smile, one that was almost... understanding, but it wasn’t quite enough to give away what she was thinking. “Maybe I don’t mind a little ‘complication’ every now and then,” she replied, her voice calm but her eyes locking onto his with quiet intensity. “After all, some things are worth the risk.”

Logan didn’t let the moment slip. He leaned forward slightly, maintaining just enough distance to keep the tension taut but still under his control. The words between them had reached a tipping point, and he could see it in her eyes—there was curiosity, but it was laced with something more.

For a brief second, Logan allowed his gaze to soften. This wasn’t just about testing her; it was about controlling the situation, manipulating it into the direction he wanted. “You sure you want to go down that road?” he murmured, his voice quiet, almost intimate. He was close enough now that the question felt like a warning, though Y/N couldn’t know it was a game he’d already planned out.

Y/N’s lips parted, her breath hitching slightly as she met his gaze. There was a faint hesitation in her eyes—one that she quickly masked, but it was there. “Maybe it’s just... curiosity,” she said, the words slipping out with an almost vulnerable undertone. She was playing along, but Logan knew she was being careful, trying to keep her emotions in check.

He smiled, watching her carefully, knowing exactly how to push without breaking the illusion. “Curiosity,” he repeated softly, his voice low but laced with something almost indulgent. He leaned in a fraction closer, just enough to close the space without crossing that line completely.

“You know,” he said quietly, his breath warm against her skin, “curiosity has a way of leading people to places they didn’t expect.”

Her heart rate quickened, but she held her ground, her lips barely moving as she whispered, “And sometimes, that’s exactly where you want to go.”

Logan’s breath hitched for the slightest moment, but he masked it instantly, his focus shifting to the game at hand. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers in a tentative kiss. Soft. Calculated. His lips barely touched hers, enough to send the message, enough to make her feel something deeper.

It wasn’t a kiss of passion. It was a kiss of deliberate provocation.

When they finally broke apart, the air between them hummed with a charged silence, like the crackle of electricity in the aftermath of an intentional spark. Their breaths were shallow, their eyes locked, as if neither could move, both caught in the weight of what had just passed between them.

Logan was the first to speak, his voice lower than before, with just the slightest edge of something darker—more guarded. “This... we shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his words meant to sound like a regret he didn’t quite feel, the weight of the moment a tool in his hands. He wasn’t sorry—not truly. He wanted to see how she would react, whether she would flinch, show any sign of vulnerability, or challenge him. The flicker of desire was still there in his gaze, but it was buried under layers of calculation.

Y/N didn’t react the way he expected. Her lips curled into a wry smile, but her eyes stayed locked on his, steady, almost daring him to push further. “You don’t sound convinced,” she observed softly, her voice a careful blend of playfulness and something more—an understanding of the game they were both playing. It was a challenge, yes, but also a recognition of the unspoken truth between them.

Logan scoffed, his laugh a low, almost bitter sound. “I’m not,” he admitted, but his words weren’t filled with regret—they were loaded, deliberately dismissive. He wasn’t retreating; he was testing the waters, watching for a reaction. His gaze flicked away from her, then back to the desk in front of him, as if trying to avoid her unyielding gaze. “But it doesn’t change what just happened, does it?”

Y/N’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second—was it doubt? Or something softer?—but it was gone before it could fully surface. Her expression returned to its calm, controlled mask, as if the whole moment had been anticipated. “No,” she answered quietly, her voice steady, distant. “It doesn’t.”

Logan’s posture shifted as he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that made him seem a little more disarmed than he’d intended. “Y/N... we can’t—” He started, but she cut him off, her tone decisive and calm, as though she had already moved past the tension he was still dwelling in.

“We don’t have to say anything,” she interrupted smoothly, the words hanging in the air between them like a challenge. “Not yet.”

The certainty in her voice gave him pause, something in her demeanor catching him off guard. She wasn’t flinching. She wasn’t retreating into regret. There was something about the way she held her ground that intrigued him—something that suggested she understood exactly what was happening and wasn’t going to let him dictate the narrative.

Logan studied her closely now, his arms crossed, his expression thoughtful but guarded. His gaze never wavered, though there was a flicker of something else there—something more complicated than simple curiosity. “You’re not exactly... conflicted about this, are you?” he asked, the words almost slipping out too easily, the hint of a challenge in his tone.

Y/N met his gaze head-on, her eyes sharp with unspoken challenge. “Not in the way you think,” she replied, her voice quiet but resolute. "I know the risks, Logan. I know exactly what this means." She leaned forward, just slightly, her posture relaxed but full of intent, a subtle power radiating from her. "But sometimes... the things we want the most come with the heaviest consequences."

Her words weren’t a warning, they were an invitation. She was offering him something, but it was still unclear whether she understood just how deep the game they were playing could go. 

"Maybe I'm willing to deal with those consequences," she added, her voice low, the challenge unmistakable. Her eyes stayed steady on his, unwavering. She was daring him to take the next step.

Logan’s breath hitched, his gaze flickering just briefly. He saw it then—the confidence, the control. It made him pause, just for a moment, before he masked it behind the careful composure he always maintained. But this wasn’t how he expected her to play this. He'd thought he’d be the one to make the move, to pull her in. Yet here she was, letting him know exactly what she was willing to risk.

“And what happens now?” His voice remained steady, but there was something in it now—something that betrayed the tension between them, an undercurrent of desire buried beneath the layers of control.

Y/N didn’t answer with words. She didn’t need to. She grabbed the front of his shirt, her fingers curling into the fabric with a boldness that surprised him—pulling him toward her without hesitation, without doubt.

A calculated move in this dance they were engaged in. Logan’s breath caught in his throat, a sharp intake as he felt the force of her pull, the heat of her body so close to his. This wasn’t what he planned—this wasn’t the distance he had wanted—but he wasn’t backing down now. Her boldness wasn’t a weakness; it was part of the game.

Their lips crashed together, urgent and raw, a kiss filled with all the unspoken tension that had been building between them. This wasn’t soft or teasing—it was the culmination of everything they’d avoided saying, everything they’d skirted around. The heat of it was overwhelming, and it swept away the logic, the control. This was about need.

Her fingers gripped his tie, pulling at it as though she wanted to tear down every barrier between them—every piece of control he’d set in place. She wanted him, but this wasn’t just about physical desire. It was about the power struggle between them, the unspoken understanding that they were playing with fire and knew it.

Logan’s hands moved to her hips, pulling her even closer, the urgency mirrored in his movements. His mind raced with the implications, but he couldn’t stop himself. She was pushing him, but he was in control. He always had been.

Her lips parted slightly, and he felt the shift in her kiss, felt the hunger in the way she responded. This wasn’t just an act of passion—it was a statement. A declaration that she was willing to go there, even if it meant everything else unraveled in the process. She wanted more, and now, Logan wanted to see just how far she was willing to go.

Breaking the kiss for a brief moment, Y/N’s voice came out shaky, but her words were sharp with need. “I don’t want to finish grading,” she breathed, the teasing edge in her tone now thick with desire. “Not when there’s something else I want more.”

Logan’s chest tightened, his grip on her waist instinctively tightening as he absorbed her words. The pulse of desire in her voice triggered something inside him, something he’d carefully cultivated, and without hesitation, his lips found hers once more. This kiss wasn’t tentative; it was frantic, hungry, and more driven than the one before, as if they were both racing toward a precipice neither had ever dared approach before.

Her fingers tugged at his tie, pulling it free and discarding it like the insignificant obstacle it was. The classroom, the grading, the rules—everything that had once stood between them shattered into nothing. There was only the burning need they couldn’t contain any longer. Logan’s hands roamed her body, pulling her closer, and with each touch, the world outside of that classroom faded further. There was no right or wrong anymore—only this.

Her breath was quick, her lips leaving his only to trail across his neck, her hands moving over his chest, exploring the heat of his body beneath the fabric. It was like a spark had ignited inside her, and she needed more of him—more than the stolen glances, the moments of tension.

Logan’s hands slid lower, finding the curve of her hips as he lifted her onto the desk, papers scattering in their wake. She felt the rush of blood in her veins, the heat of his touch, and the magnetic pull that had been drawing them together from the very start. The kiss deepened, more urgent now, as if their bodies were trying to communicate what their words hadn’t. Each movement, each shift, brought them closer to the inevitable.

Y/N moaned against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him in closer, as if she needed him to fill every space inside her. Every caress was an electric shock, a wave of heat that seemed to surge through her, leaving her breathless and craving more.

Logan’s hand slid under the hem of her skirt, his touch firm but gentle, as though testing her response. The shock of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she gasped, her pulse racing with the rush of adrenaline and need.

“Logan,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to speak, her voice ragged with desire. “I don’t care anymore… about the rules, about anything. I just want this.”

He didn’t need to answer with words. His mouth claimed hers again, slower this time, but with an intensity that suggested he was savoring the taste of her, the feel of her beneath his hands. He was in control, but it didn’t feel like control—it felt like something more dangerous, something they were both choosing to step into.

His hands slid under her blouse, his fingertips brushing over her skin, sending a rush of heat through her veins. She moaned softly against his lips, her body arching toward him, urging him on. She wanted more. She needed more.

Everything else, every rule, every boundary, seemed insignificant compared to the way they were consumed by each other. This moment—this connection—had been building for far too long, and now that they were here, there was no retreating, no second-guessing. Only the fire between them, only the pull that neither of them could resist any longer.

Logan’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heat that made Y/N’s breath hitch. His rough hands moved to the hem of her blouse, his fingers brushing against her bare skin as he lifted the fabric slowly, deliberately. She shivered at the sensation, her own hands not idle—they slid along his chest, tracing the defined muscle beneath his skin, her touch both curious and confident.

"Do you always move this slow?" she teased, her voice breathless yet playful as her eyes met his.

Logan chuckled, his smirk equal parts charm and challenge. "You in a hurry, princess?" he murmured, his voice thick as honey.

Instead of answering, she took matters into her own hands, tugging at his belt with deft fingers. The clink of metal echoed in the room, sharp against the background of their heavy breathing. Logan growled low in his throat, the sound sending a thrill straight through her as he captured her lips again, more fervent this time, as if her boldness had spurred him on.

The blouse slipped from her shoulders, pooling on the floor alongside the papers and books that had already been scattered. Logan’s hands roamed her now-bare skin, his touch reverent despite the urgency building between them. His calloused palms brushed over her ribs, his thumbs tracing the edges of her bra before sliding beneath the straps and slowly tugging them down her arms.

Her own fingers worked quickly to rid him of his shirt, pushing it back until it joined her blouse on the floor. She took a moment to drink in the sight of him—broad shoulders, a chest covered in hair, and a strength that had always been hinted at but now stood fully revealed before her.

"You’ve been hiding this under those button-ups?" she asked, her voice low and teasing as her nails grazed his skin from his chest and down his abdomen.

Logan chuckled again, a rich, gravelly sound that sent a rush of warmth through her. 

His hands slid to the waistband of her skirt, his fingers dipping beneath the fabric as he pulled it down slowly, letting it fall to the floor. She stood before him now, clad in just her bra and panties, her confidence unshaken as his eyes roamed over her, lingering on every curve.

"You're beautiful," he muttered, almost to himself, as he reached out to trace the line of her hip.

Y/N smiled, stepping closer to him, her hands moving to the waistband of his trousers. "So are you," she whispered, her voice softer now, almost tender, as she undid the button and slid the zipper down.

The clothing between them quickly became an afterthought, discarded piece by piece until there was nothing left but bare skin and the electric tension that had built between them. Logan’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him, the heat of his body making her gasp softly.

Her hand slipped between their bodies, the heat of her palm pressing against him with an aching precision. She wrapped her fingers around his length, her touch firm and deliberate, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him.

Logan’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the intensity of her touch forcing him to steady himself. He leaned into her, his forehead resting against hers as she began to move, her hand stroking him with a rhythm that was both torturously slow and utterly consuming.

A low growl rumbled deep in his chest, and his hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer until there was nothing between them but the slick heat of skin against skin. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a strained rasp, thick with desire.

Her lips curved into a faint smile, though her breath came in short, quick bursts as her movements grew bolder. “You’re awfully quiet for someone who’s supposed to have all the control.”she whispered, her tone teasing yet tinged with her own need. 

He chuckled, a deep, gravelly sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Don’t push me, darlin,” he warned, though the way his hips moved into her touch betrayed just how much power she held in that moment.

“Oh, I plan to,” she shot back, her voice playful, her fingers tracing deliberate paths that made his entire body tense beneath her touch.

Logan’s hands slid up her back, his fingertips digging into her skin with a restrained urgency. He caught her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing her soft gasp as he shifted their positions, guiding her back against the desk. The wood was cool against her bare skin, but the heat radiating from him made it impossible to focus on anything else.

His lips left hers to trail down her jaw, then lower, nipping at the curve of her neck. “You think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?” he murmured against her skin, his voice a low growl.

Y/N’s laughter was breathless, her hand never pausing in its steady rhythm. “I think you like it,” she countered, her tone light, though her body betrayed her own rising need.

Logan pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his smirk dangerous and full of promise. “I think you’re about to find out just how wrong you are.”

His hand moved with deliberate slowness, tracing the curve of her thigh with rough fingertips, the contrast against her softness making her tremble. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over hers as he whispered, “It’s only fair, don’t you think?”

Y/N barely had time to reply before his lips descended to her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that made her arch beneath him. His hand slid between her thighs, his touch light but purposeful as he explored her heat, teasing and testing her resolve.

A soft gasp escaped her lips, her head tilting back as his fingers moved with skill, parting her gently. Her breathing quickened, her body instinctively shifting closer to him, seeking more of his touch.

“You’re so sensitive,” Logan murmured against her collarbone, his voice a low growl filled with a mixture of admiration and intent. He pressed his thumb to her clit in a slow, deliberate circle, his movements calculated and unrelenting.

Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp as she struggled to form coherent thoughts. “Logan…” she breathed, her voice catching on his name, both a plea and a warning.

He smirked against her skin, the trace of something darker in his eyes as he planted soft, deliberate kisses along her neck. His lips brushed over her shoulder, sending a shiver through her, before he whispered in her ear, his voice thick with desire. “No, not Logan, darlin’.”

She froze for a second, the weight of his words hanging in the air between them. The tension crackled with unspoken authority. Logan’s breath was warm against her skin as he continued, his lips brushing the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “You know what I want you to call me.”

Her pulse quickened, a flicker of resistance sparking within her, but she couldn’t deny the way his voice, low and commanding, made her heart race. She met his gaze, the challenge still alive in her eyes. “Professor,” she whispered, the word feeling foreign yet somehow right on her tongue.

A low chuckle rumbled from him, and he pulled her closer, the grin on his face both triumphant and dangerous. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice now a gravelly whisper that sent a fresh wave of heat crashing over her. “Just let me take care of you.”

Her body arched as he pressed deeper, his fingers finding a rhythm that had her gasping, her thighs trembling against his forearm. Logan watched her intently, his gaze dark and hungry, taking in every reaction as though it fueled him.

Her breaths came in ragged bursts, her head falling back against the desk as her body succumbed to the pleasure he built within her. Logan didn’t relent, his movements growing more insistent, his free hand gripping her hip to steady her as she began to fall apart beneath him.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice a rough command, and when her eyes fluttered open to meet his, the raw intensity in his gaze sent her spiraling.

Her release came like a tidal wave, her body tensing and then shuddering as a broken cry escaped her lips. Logan didn’t stop until the last tremor left her, his touch slowing but never fully leaving her, grounding her in the aftermath.

As her breathing steadied, Y/N met his gaze, her lips curling into a lazy smile. “Fuck Professor.”

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth, his words a mix of accusation and surrender.

“And you’re stalling,” she replied, her tone daring as she tilted her head to meet his lips fully, capturing them in a kiss that was fierce and demanding.

Logan groaned against her mouth, his self-control shattering as his hands roamed over her body, claiming every inch he could reach. 

Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, the heat between them building with every stolen touch. Logan’s lips left hers, trailing down the line of her neck, his stubble scraping her sensitive skin in a way that made her gasp.

“Y/N,” he rasped against her throat, his voice thick with desire and restraint, his hands tightening on her hips.

Her answer was to arch into him, her breath hitching as her body pressed against his. “No more talking,” she whispered, her voice firm but breathless, her fingers tugging him back to her.

The cool edge of the desk met her back, but the warmth of his body was all she could focus on as he leaned into her.

She could feel his hands roaming gently, tracing the contours of her body, but it was the way he moved—intentional, slow, and purposeful—that had her pulse quickening. His lips ghosted over her skin, just enough to leave her shivering in anticipation.

Logan’s hands were firm on her hips, his grip possessive as he pressed her back against the desk. His mouth was everywhere—her jaw, her throat, the dip of her collarbone—hot and unrelenting, like he was making up for all the time they’d spent pretending this wasn’t inevitable.

But Y/N wasn’t in the mood to just take whatever he gave her.

With a smirk, she pushed at his chest, catching him just off guard enough to make him step back. His brows furrowed in confusion, lips parted like he was about to argue, but she didn’t give him the chance. Instead, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shoved him into his chair.

Logan let out a low, breathy chuckle, eyes dark and sharp as they flicked up to meet hers. “That so?” he murmured, his voice all gravel and challenge.

Y/N just smiled, swinging a leg over his lap and settling onto him like she belonged there. Like she was claiming him the way he always tried to claim her.

Logan’s hands immediately found her thighs, sliding up with slow, dangerous intent. His gaze was locked onto hers, heavy-lidded and unreadable, but his fingers dug into her skin like he was daring her to keep going.

And she was going to.

She rolled her hips against him just enough to feel the sharp hitch of his breath, the way his fingers tightened in response. He groaned low in his throat, his control cracking, his grip guiding her just a little rougher, a little more desperate—

Knock.

They both froze.

A heartbeat. Then another.

Knock.

“Professor Howlett?”

Y/N stiffened. Logan’s jaw locked, his grip on her waist iron tight as if he was physically restraining himself from losing his goddamn mind.

The voice was muffled through the door, but the words were clear. “I just had a question about the midterm—are you in there?”

Silence.

Y/N barely breathed, her body still pressed against his, her heart pounding so hard she swore Logan could feel it.

His hands didn’t move. His eyes didn’t move. He was staring at her, exhaling slow and steady through his nose, and fuck, he looked like he was about to ruin something.

Instead, he leaned in, his lips barely brushing against her ear as he muttered, voice thick with frustration, “This isn’t over.”

Y/N smirked, her lips ghosting over his jaw as she whispered, "I wouldn’t dream of it."

Logan exhaled sharply, a low, frustrated sound rumbling in his chest. His hands flexed against her thighs like he was this close to dragging her right back down, to make sure she regretted every ounce of that teasing bravado. 

And with painful reluctance, he lifted her off his lap.

The second her feet hit the floor, she felt the loss of him—the heat, the weight, the way he’d held onto her like he wasn’t ready to let go.

She met his gaze one last time, taking in the way his jaw was tight, the way his knuckles were white against the arms of his chair.

And she already knew—when this moment finally came back around?

It was going to be worse.

© th3mrskory 2025 — all rights reserved.

[haeoflii]

"Transported to a surreal world, having to go on an adventure while trying to find a way back home...This is just like that popular children's book that got adapted into a movie......! The Wizard of Oz!" *incorrect buzzer sound*

(click for better quality)

A fun-loving toon who got swept away in a carriage from their wacky cartoon world and transported to a twisted anime world.

INFORMATION:

Grade: Freshman

Class: Class A

Birthday: July 7

Age: 19

Orientation: AroAce

Height: 178 cm/5'10 ft

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Homeland: ???

Species: humanoid toon

Club: Film research club

Best Subject: Art

Hobbies: Photography and scrapbooking

Pet Peeves: People throwing fruit skins away

Favourite Food: As long as it's food

Least Favorite Food: Dead rats, bugs, inanimate objects

Talent: Photography and pulling random things out of thin air

NICKNAMES FOR OTHERS (Usually used to annoy them):

Grim: Grimmy-poo/Grimmy

Ace: Acey-wacey

Deuce: Deucey-goosey

Jack: Jacky/Jackaroo

Epel: Epel-peel

Ortho: Toto/Astro boy

Sebek: Mr. braggadocious crocodile

Malleus: Hornton/Mally

Ruggie: Mr. bag-snatcher

NICKNAME FOR THEM:

Grim: Henchmen

Leona: Rook 2.0/herbivore

Floyd: Shrimpy

Rook: Trickster

Malleus: Child of man

Ruggie: Pickpocketer

Sebek: DOLTISH HUMAN!!! (full caps are a must)

BACKSTORY:

r̸̙̲̮̦̺͖̳̩̙̠͓͍͚̰̂̀̿̏̈́͌͗͒͆̾͘ȩ̶̧̢̬̹̗̳̗̱̘͉̲̭̓̇̉̎̓̃̓̎̀͑͒̎̀͜d̸̡̻̻̙̦̲̟̰̫̫͚̖͓͗́̍̌͘a̸͇̟̟̮̩̒͋͂̒͋͆̃̌ͅͅc̷̰̀͐͑ţ̶̡͉̱͈̟̔͂̓̈́̎̽͋̇͝ȩ̵̦̲̣͖̬͆͋̐͝d̴̨̳̙̖̤̪͍̿̑͋͗͊̌͌͋͗̚ ̸̨͔̦̯̙̪͎̪͗͐͑̔͂͑͑̌͘

TRAITS:

Optimistic, nifty, adaptable, resilient, carefree, good-natured, cheerful, dense, obtuse, naive

RELATIONSHIPS:

(credits to @/ai-kan1 for the template!)

I did not check the spelling for this so I'm sorry if this was cheeks 😬

THE BOYZ🥶💯🔥—THE FIRST YEARS:

ADEUCE + GRIM: Dumb, dumber, dumbest and dumd spelled with double d. The three of them would rather take a bullet to the head than admit that they care for each other a lot. Charlie would say they love them from the moon and back and still take the bullet to the head just for fun! (it's not like they could die anyways. They're a toon gosh darn it!!) No matter what the situation is, they'll always have each other's backs—even if they complain and whine along the way!

JACK: Charlie absolutely admires Jack's strong sense of justice! After book 2, Charlie felt bad that Jack watched his role model be an asshole so they tried to be a good role model for him but they're literally no better than Leona. Jack appreciates it though. Jack's wolf form reminds Charlie of a puppy he and his brother used to take care of while they were living on the streets.

EPEL: Epel is ecstatic to find someone who shared the same problem as him—being mistaken for a girl. Every time someone mistakes both of them as a "she", Epel is the first to correct them—saying that both of them are the "most manliest men you've ever seen!" Charlie dgaf abt it but whatever makes him happy. Epel is also a bit jealous that Charlie doesn't have a problem with being perceived as feminine.

SEBEK: Sebek looks down on Charlie because he thinks they're uneducated (which is true because they've never been to a school before) and that they should pursue their educational prowess seriously. Despite the rude and almost offensive remarks, Charlie admires him for his hardworking, honest nature and loyalty to his young master! Even though Sebek claims to dislike them, they're the first person he goes to if the Diasomnia gang is not there to ramble about Malleus. They even occasionally praised Malleus along with him!

THE UNEXPECTED FRIENDSHIP—VIL:

Being in the same club as him, Vil didn't expect for the both of them to get along so well.

At first, Vil thought that Charlie wasn't going to take this club seriously; thinking that Charlie will just play around the set and make a mess but was taken back by surprise to see that they has a bit of knowledge on cinematography as well as their skills with a camera. Charlie on the other hand, was used to being the one behind the camera and was the one who helped their ex-girlfriend become famous.

Charlie's weird and quirky antics as well as their love for beauty reminds him of Rook, while Vil's strict yet passionate personality reminds them of their ex-girlfriend who is a model/actor just like him.

THE BLUNT BANGS FREAKS—ROOK:

Speaking of Rook, Charlie became photography buddies with Rook after accidentally bumping into each other in a bush while trying to take pictures of the other students. With their forces combined, the students of NRC could never catch a break from their constant terrorizing pestering.

Charlie thinks Rook's flamboyant and dramatic antics are hilarious while Rook finds Charlie's toon body fascinating and would sometimes use them as a test subject for whatever he's got in store for them. Unfortunately, Charlie can only match 45% of Rook's freak so they find it super weird. (but who are they to judge him?)

RIVALS OR BUDDIES?—RUGGIE:

At first glance, Ruggie expected Charlie to be naive or overly friendly with the way they treat others and thought it would be funny to treat himself to a nice lunch with their money (that he was definitely just borrowing). Bumping into them and snatching their wallet, he looked inside only to find it empty with trash inside and moths flying out of it.

Sighing, he decided to buy something from the vending machine, only to find his wallet missing. From the corners of his eyes, he saw a very smug Charlie, with his wallet on one hand, and munching on a donut on the other.

And from that day on, both of them will try and outwit each other. Not only that, they bonded instantly due to their similar upbringing growing up. Occasionally, one of them will treat the other to lunch (with someone else's money of course)

TWO GOLDEN RETRIEVERS AND A BLACK CAT—THE SHROUD SIBLINGS:

Extroverted, loud and optimistic—everything in a person that is on Idia's avoid list. Idia finds Charlie intimidating and would rather jump off a cliff than interact with someone as lively as them.

While for Charlie, they're really fond of Idia since he reminds them of their younger brother a lot—especially his anxious nature and his trouble with making friends. Despite their personalities being different from night to day, if given the chance, they would definitely be friends.

Ortho is glad that someone other than him likes his older brother. Ortho tries to get his brother to befriend Charlie with him protesting, saying that Charlie is basically the "Anti-Idia". As for Charlie, they enjoy talking to Ortho and treats him as if he's their own younger brother. Charlie dotes on him often, almost to the point of the first years thinking it's plain favoritism. (Charlie feels incredibly homesick every time they see the siblings with each other)

THREE MAFIA BUSINESS MEN VS STREET SCAMMER—THE OCTOTRIO:

NO NO NO! BIG ON CHARLIE'S NO NO LIST. Charlie may have trouble with solving 76 + 19 but they recognise a scam when they see it. After all, they're a money-grubber too! Despite knowing that Azul is a sucker for capitalism, Charlie sees Azul as someone who worked to the top, disciplined, organized, and efficient in their work; Jade, a person who is passionate about his interests and land life; Floyd, someone who dances on the beat of his own drum. But if Charlie admires them, they wouldn't dare go near them even with a 10ft pole!

FLOYD: SHRIMPYYYY!!!! He finds Charlie super interesting! He wants to see how hard he can squeeze them until their eyes pop out of their head. If Charlie ever turned pocket sized, he'd try to chew them like a dog toy. In Charlie's words: "Floyd's like a runaway car with no driver; unpredictable and chaotic. It's fun to watch and guess what it's gonna hit from afar but the moment it starts to swerve towards you that's when you start running."

JADE: Jade thinks Charlie's an interesting critter. He enjoys messing with them because they make an amusing face when they're scared. When Azul pissed him off, he'll ask Charlie to cook something up for Azul and make Charlie watch him eat it. Azul feels pressured because Charlie's giving him puppy-dog eyes while Jade is giving him the most shit-eating smirk ever. Azul fainted after smelling it and was sent to the infirmary that day.

AZUL: Azul considers Charlie to be a good worker in the Montrol Lounge. Charlie's friendly and outgoing attitude brings in a lot of customers, they're efficient in their work, and they're able to carry 10 plates on each arms along with a plate on their head without ever dropping it. But they are completely BANNED from entering the kitchen. He even made a custom metal sign for it! Every now and then, Azul lets Charlie perform their "magic tricks" (normal toon physics) in the lounge.

VICTIMS OF CONSTANT ANNOYANCE—RIDDLE, JAMIL & LEONA:

RIDDLE: If Riddle had a "no lash out" streak, it'll go back to zero every time Charlie feels mischievous. Charlie wants him to lighten up a bit while Riddle wants them to take life a bit more seriously. On rare occasions, Charlie buys pastries from a cafe for Riddle as an apology. At one point, they bought a cake similar to this one.

JAMIL: Charlie sorta understands what it's like wanting to be free, to fly away from the bird cage where they force you to sing but everything that Charlie does reminds him of Kalim. So Charlie keeps quiet. But Charlie being Charlie, they can't keep quiet for too long. Sometimes, Jamil contemplates on whether or not he should knock their teeth in.

LEONA: A total pain in the ass. Leona fully believes that Charlie was dropped on the head as a kid. While Charlie thinks he's super cool like a cool older brother—especially during book 3. If you ever see Leona smirking in his sleep, just so you know it's probably about punching Charlie in the face. Nobody tells Charlie this otherwise it'll get to his head but Leona finds them a biiiit endearing, like this much🤏 Their cheerful attitude reminds him of a certain lion cub.

LATE NIGHT YAPPERS—MALLEUS:

In almost every twst universe, there's a friendship between the prefect of the Ramshackle dormitory and the Prince of Briar Valley and of course so does this universe. Both of them don't mind the other rambling a lot since they're both good listeners. He's never seen anyone smile so brightly at him before. How can someone act so comfortable with him? Don't you know he's the future King of as well as one of the most powerful mages in the world? And yet Charlie treats him as any other person. Not as the Prince of his kingdom but as an equal instead. Just another student. A friend.

Talking with Malleus feels rejuvenating for Charlie. A calm slow walk around the campus is just what they need after their usual fast-paced chaotic schedule. They also find Malleus' sense of humour funny. His pulse rushes, his head reeling and his face flushes every time he makes them laugh. (definitely not because of his smaallll tiny itty bitty crush....noo not that at all)

TRIVIA:

- Their name "Sue Pierre Calli Francis Lizzie Lexis Ally Dokken" is a reference to the word "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" from Mary Poppins.

- I picked the name Charlie because of the song "Charlie's inferno" and because they were originally a genderbend version of Charlie from back when Hazbin Hotel pilot just aired but I liked it so much that I made them into an oc. And as for jackyl, it just rhymes with ramshackle 🤷

- On their second week in NRC, they pickpocketed around 70 people.

- Idia reminds him of his younger brother.

- Charlie's gloves are a reference to those old rubber-hose cartoons.

- Charlie can stretch all the way up to the Stratosphere but he will feel the effects of ultraviolet radiation.

- Charlie's bag can hold up to 5000 items.

- Charlie used to date a hot celebrity and no one believes him (a lil nod to Roger Rabbit and Jessica Rabbit)

FULL BODY + SILLY GIF:

How Charlie looks at Azul expecting him to eat their radioactive, foul-smelling, non-digestible, toxic, evil-scented "food" that they made:

[lusty-stallion]

Plus 3 on a travel coach

CAN BE READ AS A STAND-ALONE STORY WITH NO PRIOR ENGAGEMENT WITH PREVIOUS STORIES

Guys, as always plus 3 was a genius invention of Derek Williams all credit goes to him for such an awesome idea. Check out the inspiration to this series by reading the master himself. Plus 3 - the original Plus 3 - in the library

Also, I’ve evolved as a writer particularly through writing my own continuation of Derek’s masterpiece. The first ones are like fast food, but hopefully this one feels more descriptive.

And the AI images are just for fun, obviously they haven’t kept complete consistency between images.

---

Genie isn't your typical lamp-bound spirit from the movies. He's a free force, not constrained by the shackles of a lamp, able to weave his magic in ways that makes your skin crawl with anticipation. His power lies in the subtle art of manipulation, adding just three words to every wish to twist reality in delightfully naughty ways.

In his previous mischievous escapades, Genie had indulged Matt with a 24/7 live porn palace Harem within a lavish mansion. And after a wild cruise around the local area, where even the shopping mall succumbed to his whims, Genie sought a change of scenery—a campsite nestled in the hills. He was tired of the same old faces, the same old bodies. He wanted fresh meat, new toys to play with.

The coach journey up to the campsite had been rather eventful. The coach was loaded with men and women and a number of kids, all looking for an adventurous week camping.

A three-hour coach tour from the city to the country was of course the perfect place for Genie to have some fun.

The air at the rear of the coach hung thick with the scent of cheap beer, sweat, and the overpowering mix of cheap deodorant which clung to every college student on a budget. Ten college lads claimed the back with their youthful energy, bursting laughter, shouting, and the occasional belch that echoed through the cramped space. Each of them falling into a caricature of the stereotypical frat boy: the jock with the bulging biceps and a brain the size of a pea, the preppy kid with the trust fund and the entitlement to match, the awkward nerd trying desperately to fit in, the class clown who lived to provoke and entertain and so on.

Their immaturity was their way of life, with crude jokes, off-colour remarks, and a complete disregard for social norms. They were a pack, a tribe, and no one had the courage to ask them to quiet down.

And they were driving one man to the brink of insanity.

The gentleman in question was Mr. Davenport, a man in his 60s with silver neatly combed hair and a face etched with the wisdom of a life well-lived (and perhaps a few regrets). With his current frustrations at the young men, he sported a perpetually furrowed brow, sat just a few rows ahead of the lads, his body rigid with barely contained fury. He had boarded the bus hoping for a quiet retreat to the country, a chance to escape the stresses of his business. But these irritating frat boys had other plans. Their incessant noise, their vulgar language, and their complete lack of respect for their fellow passengers were a constant assault on his senses.

He had tried to ignore them, to block them out with his headphones and his book. But their antics were relentless, their laughter became a constant reminder of his own fading youth and his own missed opportunities. He was a man who had followed the rules, who had played it safe, who had sacrificed his dreams for the sake of stability. And these frat boys, with their carefree spirits and their blatant disregard for the consequences, were a punch in the gut.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he could take no more. His face contorted with rage and unleashing his pent-up frustration he declared: "I wish those lads would just grow up!" The words hung in the air, a pathetic plea for sanity in a world gone mad. But the frat boys hadn’t heard his cry to the universe, and they seemed to laugh louder, their immature humour only amplified.

Genie, however, did hear and he smiled as time rewound, and the man declared, “I wish those lads would just grow muscle and hunk up.”

The sense of change sent shivers down Mr. Davenport's spine and he turned to look at the lads, his face looking daggers. He had barely finished his pathetic plea for maturity when the transformation began. It started subtly, a slight tightening of the fabric across their shoulders, a barely perceptible swelling of their biceps. But then it accelerated, a runaway train of muscle growth that defied all logic and reason.

The frat boys, who had been moments before a collection of average-sized college students, were now swelling before his very eyes. Their clothes, once loose and comfortable, were now straining at the seams, threatening to burst at any moment. Their faces, once soft and boyish, were hardening, their jaws becoming more defined, their eyes taking on a predatory glint.

The navy t-shirt of one of the frat boys on the back seat, ripped with a sound like thunder, exposing his taught, hard pecs. His chest expanded, his nipples hardening as if in anticipation of some unseen pleasure. His arms, once flabby and weak, were now bulging with muscle, his biceps straining against the confines of his sleeves.

The chubby guys physique now transformed into that of a built model, sat in his new green hoodie which clung to his bulging biceps.

The other frat boys were undergoing similar transformations. Their shoulders broadened, their chests expanded, their abs hardened into washboard perfection. Their legs, once spindly and weak, were now thick and powerful, their thighs straining against the fabric of their shorts.

The silence that followed was deafening. The frat boys, stunned by the sudden and unexpected changes to their bodies, could only stare at each other in disbelief. They flexed their newfound muscles, marvelling at their newfound strength. They ran their hands over their hardened abs, revelling in the feeling of power and sex appeal.

The air in the coach simmered with an almost unbearable tension. The newly built bodybuilder nearest Mr. Davenport, a closeted jock named Chad, relished the older gent's uncontrollable stares through the transformation. He had always found guys hot, yet had hoped he’d develop latent desires for women eventually, but he had never dared to express his desires openly. Now, with his muscles and his newfound confidence, he couldn't resist the urge to test the waters.

"I wish everyone was as interested in our bodies as that guy there," Chad muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on Mr. Davenport's crotch, which showed no signs of arousal at all.

Zip, time struck back a chord, and his wish was amplified, twisted into something far more explicit: "I wish every male was as interested in our sexy bodies as that horny guy there."

The effect was instantaneous. The other frat boys, who only moments before were a collection of confused and horny straight young men, were now consumed by an overwhelming desire for each other. Their eyes locked, their bodies trembled, and their heterosexuality dissolved like sugar in water.

"That was such a gay wish man, what the fuck bro?" One of the young hunks, his name was Jake, said with a mixture of shock and excitement. His already strained white polo shirt, unable to contain his burgeoning muscles, shrank down to a tank top that clung to his large, sculpted pecs. He reached over and gave his mate, the guy next to him, a cheeky peck on the cheek, making the other hunk, whose name was Tyler, blush.

But Jake wasn't satisfied with just a peck. He wanted more, he needed more. He wanted to taste the salty sweat on Tyler's skin, he wanted to feel the heat of his body against his own.

Brad, the most aggressive of the bunch, wasn't about to be left out of the fun. He had always been the most sexually adventurous of the group, and he wasn't afraid to take what he wanted. His eyes burning with new lust for his friends, he pushed his way between Tyler and Jake, his muscles flexing with each movement.

"Guys, I'm getting in on this," Brad growled, his voice thick with desire. "Let me get a taste of that mouth of yours Jake."

And without waiting for an invitation, he lunged forward, his hands tearing at Jake's now-grey tank top. The fabric ripped with a satisfying sound, exposing Jake's hard, sculpted chest. Brad didn't hesitate; he climbed onto Jake's legs, straddling him like a bucking rodeo rider. Brad didn't ask; he took. He slammed his lips against Jake's, a brutal, possessive claim. Jake's surprise quickly shifted into a desperate need, his own mouth opening wider, inviting Brad's invasion. Brad's tongue plunged into Jake's mouth, a thick, muscular spear exploring every corner, every crevice, leaving no doubt who was in control. He tasted Jake's fear, his excitement, his lust, and it only fuelled his dominance. One hand snaked around Jake's neck, fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding him captive, while the other squeezed his bicep, testing the muscle, claiming it as his own. Brad ground his hips against Jake's, letting him feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against his thigh. He bit down on Jake's lower lip, a sharp, stinging sensation that made Jake gasp, and Brad used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue now a relentless piston, pounding against Jake's. It was a kiss that stripped Jake bare, a kiss that left him breathless and trembling, a kiss that marked him as Brad's.

Brad's hands roamed over Jake's body, exploring every inch of his fresh musculature. He squeezed his pecs, he ran his fingers down his abs, he cupped his bulging crotch and then made his way to wiggle his middle finger into his hole.

Jake gasped at the intrusion, initially surprised by Brad's aggressive advances, but he quickly succumbed to the pleasure. He wrapped his arms around Brad's body, pulling him closer, his own tongue darting out to meet Brad's. He moaned softly, his body trembling with anticipation.

The other frat boys, caught up in the moment, began to pair off as well. Tyler, not wanting to be left out, turned his attention to Chad, the closeted jock who had inadvertently started this whole orgy. He grabbed Chad by the shoulders, pulling him close, his eyes burning with desire.

"You started this, Chad," Tyler whispered, his voice husky with lust. "Now you're going to finish it."

And with that, he leaned in and kissed Chad, their mouths meeting in a passionate embrace. Chad, who had never kissed a man before, was initially hesitant. But the heat of Tyler's body, the intensity of his kiss, quickly melted away his inhibitions. He wrapped his arms around Tyler's body, returning the kiss with equal fervour.

Mr. Davenport, meanwhile, was in a state of complete shock. He had never witnessed anything like this before. He had always prided himself in his heterosexuality and his composure. But now, with these frat boys engaging in a full-blown orgy right in front of him, he found his inhibitions crumbling, his desires shifting.

He watched, transfixed, as the frat boys kissed, groped, and fondled each other. He could feel his own body stirring, his cock had been hard since Chad wished he was horny, and it had never felt so painfully constricted. He knew that he should look away, that he should try to maintain some semblance of decency. But he couldn't resist. He was drawn to this orgy of young men like a moth to a flame, and he was willing to burn for the chance to experience its forbidden pleasures.

The older gent, couldn’t take his eyes off the younger men, his cock raging hard. He was disgusted at himself, but for some reason he couldn’t break his eyes away from the display of youthful lust from the adolescent hunks. Come to mention it, the other men in the coach found their attention moved toward them.

Jake broke from Brad’s kiss to say “I wish Tyler was a sexy stripper slut who loves seducing men. I also wish his muscles would grow when he’s seducing.”

Genie grinned “I wish Tyler was a sexy stripper slut who loves seducing men for a living. I also wish his muscles would grow thicker when he’s seducing straight men.”

Tyler, the only lad left in a top, which was now stretched to its limit, emboldened by the attention and the sudden surge of testosterone, locked eyes with the older gent. A wicked grin spread across his face, revealing a hint of the devil within. He pulled away from his make-out session, leaving Chad panting and flushed.

"Hey, old timer," he drawled, his voice now deeper and more resonant, "you seem to be enjoying the show. Why don't I give you a private performance?"

Before the older gent could respond, Tyler sauntered down the aisle, his newly acquired muscles rippling beneath his clinging tank top. The other passengers watched in stunned silence, their eyes glued to his every move.

He stopped directly in front of the older gent, his bulging biceps practically brushing against the man's face. He leaned in close, his breath hot and heavy against the man's ear.

"I bet you've never seen anything like this before," he whispered, his voice laced with a seductive purr.

With a sudden, unexpected move, the frat boy seductively placed himself on the older guys lap, gyrating into the older man’s crotch. Then he began to strip. He slowly peeled off his tank top, revealing his massive, sculpted chest. His pecs bounced with each movement, drawing gasps from the onlookers.

He then unbuckled his belt, his eyes never leaving the older gent's. He slowly slid his shorts down his hips, revealing a pair of tight, blue boxer briefs that barely contained his bulging package.

Mr. Davenport's eyes widened in disbelief, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. He was both horrified and aroused by the spectacle unfolding before him. He had always considered himself a respectable, heterosexual man, but the sight of this young, muscular frat boy stripping and grinding on his lap was stirring something deep within him, something he had never dared to acknowledge.

He even witnessed Tyler's muscles pump bigger, growing larger and more defined as he gave in to his advances. It was as if the act of seduction was fuelling his physical transformation, turning him into the ultimate object of desire.

Tyler, now completely naked from the waist up, straddled the older gent's lap, his rock-hard thighs pressing against the man's groin. He began to grind against him, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that sent shivers down Mr. Davenport's spine.

"How's that feel, old timer?" Tyler purred, his voice now dripping with lust. "Bet you wish you were young again, huh? Able to handle all this muscle."

Mr. Davenport groaned, his self-control crumbling like a dam about to burst. He reached out and grabbed Tyler's ass, squeezing the firm, muscular cheeks. He couldn't help himself. The feel of Tyler's body against his was too intoxicating, too overwhelming to resist.

Tyler let out a throaty laugh, then leaned in and licked Mr. Davenport's ear, sending a jolt of electricity through his body. "You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot and heavy against the man's skin.

He continued to grind against Mr. Davenport, his movements becoming more and more frantic. The other passengers watched in a mixture of shock, arousal, and envy. Some averted their eyes, pretending not to see what was happening. Others stared openly, their own desires ignited by the scene unfolding before them.

Chad, inspired by Tyler's success and aware his previous wish had been granted, decided to take things even further. He approached Mr. Davenport, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

He ran his hand down to Mr. Davenport’s crotch and felt the hard shaft of the older man, straining against his pants. He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“I wish you only desire sex with young men now who call you Daddy,” Chad whispered, his voice laced with seduction.

The Genie, who had been observing the scene with amusement, smirked. This young lad had been a straight, awkward college boy until only a few moments ago. Now, he was a professional rent boy, a master of seduction, with a very naughty kink for seducing older men.

He wound back time desiring to unleash Mr. Davenport's deepest, darkest desires, to transform him into the ultimate object of lust.

“I wish you only desire sex with young, dumb, hunky men now who call you Leather Daddy,” Chad whispered, his voice dripping with anticipation."

As Chad whispered the words "Leather Daddy," a surge of raw, untamed power coursed through Mr. Davenport's body. It started in his groin, a throbbing, insistent ache that demanded release. It spread through his chest, tightening his muscles, hardening his nipples. It surged into his arms, making his hands clench into fists.

He felt his skin tingle, his senses sharpen, his inhibitions crumble. He was no longer Mr. Davenport, the respectable businessman. He was now a Leather Daddy, a master of pain and pleasure, a connoisseur of young, dumb, hunky men.

He looked down at Tyler, still straddling his lap, his body glistening with sweat, his eyes burning with desire. He saw the potential, the raw, untapped masculinity that was just waiting to be unleashed. He saw the perfect blank canvas, ready to be moulded and shaped to his every whim.

A primal growl rumbled in his chest, a sound that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He reached out and grabbed Tyler's ass, squeezing the firm, muscular cheeks.

"You're mine now," he growled, his voice now deeper and more resonant. "You belong to me. I’ll pimp your sexy ass out to whomever I choose and you’ll make me a lot of money boy!"

Tyler, still riding high on the adrenaline of his performance, simply smiled and leaned in to kiss Mr. Davenport again. But as their lips met, something shifted. Tyler's eyes glazed over, his mind went blank, and a dumb smile spread across his face.

The transformation was complete. Tyler was now a dumb, muscle-bound stud, perfectly suited to the desires of his new Leather Daddy and he was proud to make money for Daddy with his sexy body.

Mr. Davenport pulled back from the kiss, his eyes burning with lust. He ran his hands over Tyler's body, feeling the warmth of his skin, the hardness of his muscles.

"Daddy," Tyler said, his voice now deeper and more resonant, "take me."

He needed to claim Tyler, to mark him as his own, right here, right now, in front of everyone.

He grabbed Tyler's face, his fingers digging into the young man's cheeks, and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. He kissed him hard, his tongue exploring every inch of Tyler's mouth, his teeth nipping at his lips.

Tyler, his mind now a blank slate, responded with a fervour that was both thrilling and terrifying. He wrapped his arms around Daddy Davenport's neck, his body pressing against the older man's, his hips grinding against his groin.

Daddy broke the kiss, his eyes burning with lust. He looked around the coach, taking in the shocked, aroused faces of the other passengers. He saw the envy in their eyes, the desire in their hearts. He knew that they all wanted to be Tyler, to be the object of his desire.

He smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes. He was going to give them a show they would never forget.

He grabbed Tyler's hand and pulled him towards the nearest seat, where Chad and the other jocks were sitting, their eyes wide with anticipation.

"Move," Daddy growled, his voice now a low, menacing rumble. "This is my seat now."

Chad and the other jocks scrambled out of the way, their faces a mixture of fear and excitement. They knew that they were about to witness something extraordinary, something forbidden.

Daddy sat down, pulling Tyler onto his lap. He straddled the young man, his thighs squeezing his waist, his groin pressing against his ass.

He grabbed Tyler's head and forced him down, his fingers tangling in his hair.

"Suck my cock," he commanded, his voice dripping with lust. "Suck it good."

Tyler, his mind completely blank, obeyed without hesitation. He opened his mouth and took Daddy's throbbing cock inside, his lips wrapping around the shaft, his tongue dancing over the head.

Daddy groaned, his head falling back, his body arching with pleasure. He closed his eyes, savouring the sensation, the warmth, the wetness. He felt the other passengers watching him, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them.

He didn't care. He was a Leather Daddy, and he was going to take what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted.

He opened his eyes and looked down at Tyler, his face buried in his lap, his cheeks flushed, his eyes glazed over. He saw the other jocks watching, their cocks straining against their pants, their hands reaching for their own dicks.

He smirked. He was in control, and he was loving every minute of it.

---

TBC tomorrow

[guzhufuren]

Thailand 🇹🇭 A Guide to Some of the Best Queer Asian Shows

Full list here.

1. KinnPorsche mafia boss/bodyguard; action; kidnapper/kidnapee side couple

Kinn, a son of a prominent mafia head, is ambushed by an enemy, and meets Porsche, a bartender who comes to his rescue for a price, thus beginning their reluctant relationship as boss and bodyguard, which soon turns into something more.

iQIYI

2. Bed Friend friends with benefits; office setting; trauma

King and Uea work in the same office. After a company outing ends in a drunken hook-up between them, Uea and King agree to keep seeing each other on a strictly physical basis. With no strings attached, will these two be able to keep things between them simple and carefree or will their emotions eventually get the better of them?

Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or GagaOOLala or cut on YouTube

3. The Sign reincarnated lovers; fantasy; thai mythology; police

The story of the love between Phaya and Tharn who used to be mythological creatures Naga and Garuda in their past lives, and were forced apart. But fate intervened, and two men were reincarnated in new bodies. Now, they work together as partners in the Special Investigations Unit to uncover violent crimes and supernatural mysteries while their love is tested by mystical forces and past enemies.

YouTube

4. I Feel You Linger In The Air period drama; time travel; bittersweet

Jom, an architect overseeing the renovation of a rundown villa, continuously dreams of a man he's never met. When a twist of fate transports Jom to Chiang Mai in the 1920s, he assumes the role of a servant to the affluent young master Yai, the mysterious man from his dreams.

GagaOOLala or YouTube

5. You're My Sky sports; university setting; coming of age

Thorn, a young basketball player follows his senior Fah to university as a result of the promise they’d made — to become national basketball champions. However, to his dismay, he finds that Fah has already given up on basketball. --- Aai has to work in pairs throughout the semester with San, 1 year footballer; in order to receive a scholarship to study in Japan, Ai must be willing to do everything to get an A grade. --- Track running requires the compatibility of the team members to be very high. Vee, who became the new racquet 4, has to speed up training to fit in with the team as quickly as possible, especially with Dome, spending extra time together to train. Is love actually a major obstacle on the path of being an athlete?

Viki

6. Cutie Pie (+Cutie Pie 2 You, Naughty Babe) arranged marriage; secret identity; crack

The sons of two companies, Lian and Kuea, have been engaged to each other since childhood. One decides he doesn't want the arranged marriage anymore while the other decides to win him back.

Cutie Pie: YouTube & Cutie Pie 2 You: Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or cut on YouTube & NB: uncut on IQIYI or cut on YouTube

7. Until We Meet Again reincarnated lovers; forbidden love;university setting

Two boys who couldn't be together in one life find each other again in another.

+ Between Us university setting; swimming club; trauma

A parallel story to Until We Meet Again. Win and Team get to know one another through the swimming club, and eventually develop a relationship. They grow their connection as Win helps Team deal with his childhood trauma.

UWMA: YouTube & Between Us: Special: YouTube & Between Us: Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or paid YouTube or cut on YouTube

8. Step By Step office setting; boss/employee; slowburn

Jeng is a marketing manager and son of the owner of the company. Pat is a new team member. Jeng develops a secret fondness for his new subordinate, but in this position, he has to be strict and picky with Pat.

Uncut 18+ on Viki or GagaOOLala or cut on YouTube

9. GAP The Series wlw; office setting; boss/employee; class difference

Long after Sam first came to Mon's rescue when they were kids, Sam is unambiguously Mon's idol. In order to be near Sam, Mon gets a job working under her. When they finally meet again at the office, Mon is surprised by Sam’s icy exterior, so different from the image she'd had of her. Mon and Sam aren't just different in demeanour; they stand apart in class and age.

YouTube

10. Lucky My Love wlw; office setting

In the pursuit of love, Nabdao has been doing everything. She has got her fortune read. She's gone on a string of blind dates. Unfortunately, no one seems to be on the same page as her. She starts to think that perhaps her gorgeous and caring boss Pheem could be the one for her. Then Vela, her new team leader, comes into the picture and shakes things up with her observant and affectionate care.

YouTube

11. La Pluie soulmate alternative universe

In an alternate universe where Thailand is perpetually rainy and soulmates exist, La Pluie traces the story of Saengtai, who suffers from sensorineural hearing loss every time it rains. The only voice he can hear then is that of his soulmate, but he is adamant about not giving said soulmate a chance due to having seen his parents’ (who are also soulmates) relationship deteriorate.

YouTube or iQIYI

12. I Told Sunset About You (+ Last Twilight in Phuket, I Promised You the Moon) coming of age; childhood friends to lovers; high school setting

Two childhood best friends-turned-rivals meet again, awakening an old rivalry and old feelings. They now have to navigate their lives together and the growing attraction toward each other.

Viki (ITSAY) & YouTube (LTIP) & Viki (IPYTM)

13. Ghost Host, Ghost House crush at first sight; ghosts; grief

Kevin's passion is the challenge of hunting ghosts. He returns to Thailand after 10 years to stay with his aunt's family, but he didn't know that he'd come to stay under the same roof as those hunted ghosts. There he meets Pluem, a young gardener working for his family and a spark ignites between them.

YouTube or GagaOOLala

14. Something In My Room ghost/human; mystery; bittersweet

Looking to start a new life in a new house with his mother, Phat feels something uncanny in his room, which turns out to be the ghost of Phob. Phob wants Phat’s help in solving the mystery of his death before it’s too late.

I recommend watching the extended uncut version on KissKH or Dramacool, but you can also watch cut version on YouTube

15. Manner of Death crime; mystery; dark

A forensic pathologist Bunn is threatened to identify a manner of one victim's death as suicide — something that is not true according to the autopsy performed. The prime suspect seems to be a man named Tan who denies all involvement. They team up together to find the real murderer.

WeTV

16. Triage time loop; hospital setting; crime; mystery

As a resident in the emergency room, one should be indifferent when not saving a patient's life. But Tin got the chance to reverse a random patient's death for the second, third, and countless times. To help Tol and save his life.

AIS PLAY

17.  Love Mechanics cheating; university setting

A love story that starts one night in a club — between Mark, who is drunk and carrying the painful burden of his one-sided love, and the boy who he bumps into and mistakes as the object of his affection. They spend a night together and gradually Mark falls for Vee, although he knows Vee has a girlfriend. Will the love between them make it?

WeTV

18. Wedding Plan wedding planner/groom; lavender marriage; wlw side couple

Nuea is a professional wedding planner. Sailom happens to be the perfect man for Nuea based on his visual considerations for a man. But the universe has an unimaginable sense of humor as Sailom and his fiance Yiwa turn out to be Nuea's new clients.

Uncut 18+ on iQIYI or cut on Youtube & iQIYI (special episode)

19. Laws of Attraction lawyers; crime

When working-class man Tinn's niece fails to receive justice for her untimely death, he encounters Charn, a cynical morally corrupt lawyer. As Tinn and Charn team up to delve deeper into the case, they form a close bond despite their ideological differences. The series explores Charn and Tinn’s fight for justice, even though they were on opposite sides of the fence at the beginning.

YouTube

20. Secret Crush On You “nerd”/popular guy; queer friend group; university setting

Discover the secret of a nerdy young man, Toh, who fell in love with a popular third-year senior. Because his dream is so far from reach, observing is the only thing he could do. But what happens when one auspicious day the world devises an opportunity for Toh to make himself known to his crush Nuea?

YouTube

21. To Sir, With Love period drama; family drama; rich man/lower class man

A powerful family suffering from internal power struggles is now facing an even greater secret threat, the oldest son and heir is gay.

YouTube

22. My Only 12% best friends to lovers; slow burn

Cake and Seeiw, next-door neighbors and childhood best friends, navigate their feelings towards each other as they grow up.

YouTube

23. Show Me Love wlw; beauty pageants

Meena moves to Bangkok to achieve her singing dreams. She chances across Cherine who asks Meena to join her in a beauty pageant. The girls' journey for the crown begins and a romance between them sparks.

YouTube

24. Pit Babe omegaverse; alpha/alpha; car racing

Babe is the number one race car driver and an alpha with special abilities who only has sex with other alphas. Nerdy naive alpha Charlie approaches Babe to ask for his help to become a racer himself. Babe agrees to help Charlie realise his dream, but it will come with a price.

Uncut on iQIYI or cut on YouTube

---

You can watch many shows for free on YouTube, and watch others on the streaming websites by setting VPN to Thailand. In other cases I recommend paying for subscriptions to show appreciation and support of content in order to get more of it in the future, but if you can’t, watch on KissKH (better quality), Dramacool or get files from MkvDrama. Enjoy!  🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

[chronomally]

Part of my class this semester involves answering questions from the Raven's intelligence test and they're not like hard but every time I have to answer one I start sweating

[sparkbeast20]

Private Treasure

Valefor was getting worried for his king.

For the past year, Mammon has been traveling all across hell. Collecting all sort of treasures. And returning to his private treasure room.

It was been a year since you went missing.

All of hell went to a frenzy. Leviathan stayed in his palace as he sent his best men to look for you.

Satan went on a long search party with his nobles. Same goes to Beelzebub and his nobles.

You might think, aren't the kings worried about the angel attacks?

For some reason, there were barely any attacks from the three Seraphim. And only the lower class of angels were attacking each region, which even some of the most common citizens can handle them.

Valefor would be happy about this change, but at what cause. The war was close to being over, and yet. You were gone.

As he was in deep thought, the sound of the large door of the palace open, alerting Valefor. He stood up and head to the palace door. when he got there.

He stopped when he saw his Majesty Mammon enter the palace with a small treasure in his hand.

He didn't notice Valefor, and kept on walking to his private treasure room.

Valefor, quietly followed behind him.

Once Mammon reach the door to the Treasure Room. Valefor quietly hid to the corner and peeked. He notice that the Ai pad was broke, and from was he saw it seem to be smashed... And he knew who did it.

Mammon calmly pushed the large doors open and went inside the room.

Valefor followed behind, making sure there is distant between him and Mammon.

Valefor entered the room and saw all of the treasure that his Majesty has been collecting for the past year. And all seem to remind him of you.

"Was his Majesty collecting this to remind himself of you... MC?"

He thought, but was pulled out of it when he hear Mammon's voice from a far.

He start walking again, going deeper into the room, and saw in the farthest side of the room was a shrine, lit with two large torches on either side.

As he got closer, he saw Mammon kneeling and bowing.

Valefor stopped dead on his track when he saw what was his Majesty was bowing to...

It was you, laying a bed as if it was your death bed-

"I was in Paradise Lost today..." Valefor got startled by Mammon's voice. "And... I saw this and it reminded me of you... I hope you like it, MC" He brought out the treasure and place it next to your bed.

Valefor could believe what he's seeing.

You were missing for a year, and yet. His Majesty had you all this time.

"I wish that you could wake up, and greet me with that adorable smile of yours again, my master..." Mammon stare lovely at your sleeping face with a small smile.

But it slowly drops and he hung his head, in shame...

He stayed silence for who knows how long.

Then he spoke again.

"If I knew that this was the price for choosing me as the "Final Temptation"..." He pause for a moment.

"I would have never asked you to pick me..." A single tear slip from the corner of his eye as he continue. "I know now that... the treasure I needed was you... So please" He stood and walked up to your bed and pulled you into his arms, embracing you tight. "Wake up... Please."

Note: I wanted to make a fic about MC picking one of the devils as the Final temptation but there was a price.

And this was a loving attack at a friend ^3^

Cause their fav is Mammon.

[forestlingincorporated]

I saw a post talking about how media like Detroit Become Human that use robots as a metaphor for racism never quite hits the nail on the head because, well, robots aren't people and the fear of being replaced by automation is a legitimate one.

And it made me think about Rockman-san.

Which is coming out very soon as Mr. Megaman, in English, so might as well talk about it now!

For a gag comic, Rockman-san has a very melancholy tone to it. It often touches on concepts like deterioration, obsolescence, and... well...

Automation.

The original Robot Masters of the Rockman-san comic are sentient. They can think, they can feel, they can love. It's a staple of Rockman/Megaman media for its Robot Masters and Reploids to be self-determining, but Rockman-san takes that to its extreme and, without getting into spoilers, has a real blurring of what it means to be human and what it means to be a machine.

Their humanity is what labels them as "dangerous," and that type of robot is being phased out and replaced with robots that can't think or feel. Yup - AI took the AI's jobs. The RMs are largely struggling with employment - some are having difficulty holding down a job, while others have been pushed out of the industries they were made for and find the work they took up to survive unfulfilling, while others are finding fulfillment in repurposing their hardware and programming to a new career. They have a variety of ways they experience the hardships of the world that... honestly hit me pretty hard, my first time reading, because it was probably the first time I'd read a story that felt like it was really talking to my actual lived experience as an adult.

By including these more real world ai machines, it reminds the audience the RMs are fantastical and highlights what the narrative is trying to analyze - "what does it mean to be self-determining? what does it mean to be sentient? is it a blessing or a burden? what rights does a fully aware, self-determining, sentient being have if it is not human? when do they become a person? what do you have to strip away from a human to make them no longer a person?"

Rockman-san manages to balance a narrative of robot discrimination while acknowledging that the presence of robots in their world is harmful to humans. It acknowledges that, by making the robots sentient, the scientists have accidentally created an underclass of person - the robots are thinking, feeling people who have to work to survive, to pay for energy, pay for repairs, pay for a place to live, pay for recreation. Robots work longer hours for less pay and have no legal recourse.

Rockman-san hits the nail on the head that this benefits the wealthy and harms the working class. Capitalism rears its ugly head yet again. The sentient robots get exploited, abused, and tossed aside. The working class suffers and dies. The wealthy profit.

And the finger gets pointed to the exploited underclass rather than those in power, as it so often does. But then... how would one ethically close Pandora's box? What changes would allow humans and robots to coexist? Can they coexist?

Just, something about how Rockman-san handles its robot rights narrative resonates, y'know? It doesn't rely on cheap parallels that don't really work. It's mostly asking questions of Megaman's premise. There's a lot of varying life experiences and opinions expressed by the characters, and it doesn't really ask you to agree with any of them - not even Rock or Dr. Light. We're not trying to come to definite answers, just exploring what it means to be alive and how to live in a society, how it works and how it fails.

I dunno. I'm not about to say it's a perfect narrative, but there's something about it I like.

[turbobyakuren]

my thoughts on LLM like chatgpt and all is complex because i do not think they're 100% bad tools per se. My master degree in translation, which i completed like two years before the complete explosion of "AI", had the particularity of having classes focused on linguistics in informatics, and particularly explain to us how a language model and an automated translation system works. i've used stuff that allowed me to put myself in the shoes of a language model and how it treats language. so as such, when chatGPT came out, i was really intrigued by it, because it's just... an advanced version of what i learned.

the problem is that my opinion on "the language model to calculate the probability of a sentence using a large amount of corpuses" changed drastically the moment i've got coworkers and relatives replace their search engine and critical thought by this fucking thing that isn't a search engine.

[fwrails]

i hate when people make their opinion on ai to be either it’s the best thing the human race has ever invented or the thing that will kill humans and their creativity when it’s so obviously neither. trying to idolize it will make it impossible for creatives to strive and trying to fully ban it will send us moving backwards.

i always think of ai the same way you’d think of calculators. in the math community, lots of people thought calculators would make it so no one would ever use math again, when obviously that’s not true. think about how you use one in class: helps with the mundane, simple equations, or the ones that take too much time to do by hand when you’re in a scenario where you need numbers fast. you still learn how to do it the mechanical way, you still have to know how to calculate by hand, but after you’ve mastered all that, the calculator will be able to do it for you when you don’t what to. this notion goes further when discussing testing, as harder sections of tests usually are the only parts that allow calculators of any kind. of course, you can use a calculator to its fullest and find the answer to virtually any math problem you’d need to, but most of us don’t, right? i believe that ai can be used in this same way, since it’s already been so integrated within our lives.

now i’m in no way saying that we should accept it completely with open arms, and of course i recognize that it has a lot more power than a standard calculator, the important thing to take away from its emergence is moderation. it’s clearly not going to go away any time soon so the best thing to do is to use it in small doses for minimal tasks. i for one use it almost every day, but solely for things like generating practice problems for chemistry or language review worksheets. it’s truly ALL about how you are using the tool. when it’s writing full papers or generating artwork, it’s a whole different story, but it can be used in ways that improve ourselves without making us less intelligent or driven.

i’d love to live in a world where ai never existed but as it’s getting implemented into school curriculums and every social media platform is making their own ai bot i think people need to be aware about the ethical ways you yourself can use ai. i am no supporter but i am just thinking realistically. no it will not take over our lives, no it will not cause the death of creativity, because as long as we are alive that will be alive. both glorifying it and making it into a supervillain will make no progress. i’m not telling anyone to support my perspective, just take some time to think about how ai could be put to use in society in an ethical way, not to replace humans, but to better ourselves.

[lemonidae]

Ai no Kusabi (The space Between) Light Novels by Rieko Yoshihara

About

Ai no Kusabi (間の楔, lit. "The Space Between") is a Japanese novel written by Rieko Yoshihara. Originally serialized in the yaoi magazine Shōsetsu June between December 1986 and October 1987, the story was collected into a hardbound novel that was released in Japan in 1990, and eventually expanded on and released in 6 paperback volumes (8 in the international edition).

Plot

This futuristic tale takes place on a planet ruled by a super computer Jupiter, where its cyborg creations, the Elites, who are assigned various social roles based on their hair color, rule over the human populace. Iason Mink, a high-class "Blondy" elite from the capital Tanagura, runs into Riki, a "Mongrel" from the slums, and makes him his "Pet". This decision was seen as taboo in Tanagura where Pets are a status symbol and are expected to be well-bred, and was also unacceptable to Riki who had his freedom taken away from him. As Riki learns of the dangers Iason faces by keeping him, he finds himself developing feelings for his master. While focusing on the relationship between Iason and Riki, Ai no Kusabi also explores issues of caste systems and social exclusion, as well as the implications of Artificial Intelligence ruling over a human society.

Tagged: Mature, Drama, Sci-fi, Tragedy, Yaoi, Androids, Violence, Discrimination, Dystopia, Non-con, Rape

Download ENG: chui riza | AA

Sources: