#Production Engineering Project Help

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

i don't think i've ever posted this before but a little while (see: few years) ago i made a chart documenting my headcanons for solaris' personal timeline at zoraxis (based exclusively on what we canonically know she's done, and the fact that she was only at zoraxis for five years during the death engine mission)

[johnlacena]

@staff comments from an engineer in the tags.

Tumblr’s Core Product Strategy

Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on reorganizing how we work in a bid to gain more users. A larger user base means a more sustainable company, and means we get to stick around and do this thing with you all a bit longer. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. The @labs group has published a bit already, but this is bigger. We’re publishing it publicly for the first time, in an effort to work more transparently with all of you in the Tumblr community. This strategy provides guidance amid limited resources, allowing our teams to focus on specific key areas to ensure Tumblr’s future.

The Diagnosis

In order for Tumblr to grow, we need to fix the core experience that makes Tumblr a useful place for users. The underlying problem is that Tumblr is not easy to use. Historically, we have expected users to curate their feeds and lean into curating their experience. But this expectation introduces friction to the user experience and only serves a small portion of our audience. 

Tumblr’s competitive advantage lies in its unique content and vibrant communities. As the forerunner of internet culture, Tumblr encompasses a wide range of interests, such as entertainment, art, gaming, fandom, fashion, and music. People come to Tumblr to immerse themselves in this culture, making it essential for us to ensure a seamless connection between people and content. 

To guarantee Tumblr’s continued success, we’ve got to prioritize fostering that seamless connection between people and content. This involves attracting and retaining new users and creators, nurturing their growth, and encouraging frequent engagement with the platform.

Our Guiding Principles

To enhance Tumblr’s usability, we must address these core guiding principles.

Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Retain and grow our creator base.

Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Improve the platform’s performance, stability, and quality.

Below is a deep dive into each of these principles.

Principle 1: Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Tumblr has a “top of the funnel” issue in converting non-users into engaged logged-in users. We also have not invested in industry standard SEO practices to ensure a robust top of the funnel. The referral traffic that we do get from external sources is dispersed across different pages with inconsistent user experiences, which results in a missed opportunity to convert these users into regular Tumblr users. For example, users from search engines often land on pages within the blog network and blog view—where there isn’t much of a reason to sign up. 

We need to experiment with logged-out tumblr.com to ensure we are capturing the highest potential conversion rate for visitors into sign-ups and log-ins. We might want to explore showing the potential future user the full breadth of content that Tumblr has to offer on our logged-out pages. We want people to be able to easily understand the potential behind Tumblr without having to navigate multiple tabs and pages to figure it out. Our current logged-out explore page does very little to help users understand “what is Tumblr.” which is a missed opportunity to get people excited about joining the site.

Actions & Next Steps

Improving Tumblr’s search engine optimization (SEO) practices to be in line with industry standards.

Experiment with logged out tumblr.com to achieve the highest conversion rate for sign-ups and log-ins, explore ways for visitors to “get” Tumblr and entice them to sign up.

Principle 2: Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

We need to ensure the highest quality user experience by presenting fresh and relevant content tailored to the user’s diverse interests during each session. If the user has a bad content experience, the fault lies with the product.

The default position should always be that the user does not know how to navigate the application. Additionally, we need to ensure that when people search for content related to their interests, it is easily accessible without any confusing limitations or unexpected roadblocks in their journey.

Being a 15-year-old brand is tough because the brand carries the baggage of a person’s preconceived impressions of Tumblr. On average, a user only sees 25 posts per session, so the first 25 posts have to convey the value of Tumblr: it is a vibrant community with lots of untapped potential. We never want to leave the user believing that Tumblr is a place that is stale and not relevant. 

Actions & Next Steps

Deliver great content each time the app is opened.

Make it easier for users to understand where the vibrant communities on Tumblr are. 

Improve our algorithmic ranking capabilities across all feeds. 

Principle 3: Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Part of Tumblr’s charm lies in its capacity to showcase the evolution of conversations and the clever remarks found within reblog chains and replies. Engaging in these discussions should be enjoyable and effortless.

Unfortunately, the current way that conversations work on Tumblr across replies and reblogs is confusing for new users. The limitations around engaging with individual reblogs, replies only applying to the original post, and the inability to easily follow threaded conversations make it difficult for users to join the conversation.

Actions & Next Steps

Address the confusion within replies and reblogs.

Improve the conversational posting features around replies and reblogs. 

Allow engagements on individual replies and reblogs.

Make it easier for users to follow the various conversation paths within a reblog thread. 

Remove clutter in the conversation by collapsing reblog threads. 

Explore the feasibility of removing duplicate reblogs within a user’s Following feed. 

Principle 4: Retain and grow our creator base.

Creators are essential to the Tumblr community. However, we haven’t always had a consistent and coordinated effort around retaining, nurturing, and growing our creator base.  

Being a new creator on Tumblr can be intimidating, with a high likelihood of leaving or disappointment upon sharing creations without receiving engagement or feedback. We need to ensure that we have the expected creator tools and foster the rewarding feedback loops that keep creators around and enable them to thrive.

The lack of feedback stems from the outdated decision to only show content from followed blogs on the main dashboard feed (“Following”), perpetuating a cycle where popular blogs continue to gain more visibility at the expense of helping new creators. To address this, we need to prioritize supporting and nurturing the growth of new creators on the platform.

It is also imperative that creators, like everyone on Tumblr, feel safe and in control of their experience. Whether it be an ask from the community or engagement on a post, being successful on Tumblr should never feel like a punishing experience.

Actions & Next Steps

Get creators’ new content in front of people who are interested in it. 

Improve the feedback loop for creators, incentivizing them to continue posting.

Build mechanisms to protect creators from being spammed by notifications when they go viral.

Expand ways to co-create content, such as by adding the capability to embed Tumblr links in posts.

Principle 5: Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Push notifications and emails are essential tools to increase user engagement, improve user retention, and facilitate content discovery. Our strategy of reaching out to you, the user, should be well-coordinated across product, commercial, and marketing teams.

Our messaging strategy needs to be personalized and adapt to a user’s shifting interests. Our messages should keep users in the know on the latest activity in their community, as well as keeping Tumblr top of mind as the place to go for witty takes and remixes of the latest shows and real-life events.  

Most importantly, our messages should be thoughtful and should never come across as spammy.  

Actions & Next Steps

Conduct an audit of our messaging strategy.

Address the issue of notifications getting too noisy; throttle, collapse or mute notifications where necessary.  

Identify opportunities for personalization within our email messages. 

Test what the right daily push notification limit is. 

Send emails when a user has push notifications switched off.

Principle 6: Performance, stability and quality.

The stability and performance of our mobile apps have declined. There is a large backlog of production issues, with more bugs created than resolved over the last 300 days. If this continues, roughly one new unresolved production issue will be created every two days. Apps and backend systems that work well and don't crash are the foundation of a great Tumblr experience. Improving performance, stability, and quality will help us achieve sustainable operations for Tumblr.

Improve performance and stability: deliver crash-free, responsive, and fast-loading apps on Android, iOS, and web.

Improve quality: deliver the highest quality Tumblr experience to our users. 

Move faster: provide APIs and services to unblock core product initiatives and launch new features coming out of Labs.

Conclusion

Our mission has always been to empower the world’s creators. We are wholly committed to ensuring Tumblr evolves in a way that supports our current users while improving areas that attract new creators, artists, and users. You deserve a digital home that works for you. You deserve the best tools and features to connect with your communities on a platform that prioritizes the easy discoverability of high-quality content. This is an invigorating time for Tumblr, and we couldn’t be more excited about our current strategy.

[pandemic-info]

UPDATE: a judge blocked this for now: https://apnews.com/article/donald-trump-pause-federal-grants-aid-f9948b9996c0ca971f0065fac85737ce

—

This is a huge fucking problem.

These grants account for more than 10% of the GDP. 3 trillion – wiped out.

From the article:

The funding freeze by the Republican administration could affect trillions of dollars and cause widespread disruption in health care research, education programs and other initiatives. Even grants that have been awarded but not spent are supposed to be halted.

“The use of Federal resources to advance Marxist equity, transgenderism, and green new deal social engineering policies is a waste of taxpayer dollars that does not improve the day-to-day lives of those we serve,” said a memo from Matthew Vaeth, the acting director of the Office of Management and Budget.

(Use of that language, that entire segment, "Marxist equity ... policies" is disgusting. If you think you're wary of propaganda and you do not see the enormous red flags in that statement, I do not know how to help you. If you're not beyond it, maybe pick up a history book — the 1930s are particularly pertinent.)

The average person may not understand just how far-reaching this is, how many programs and services are covered by grants, that regular people rely on all across the US and globally.

Not to mention how many people just had their livelihood demolished.

Researchers, for example, spend months and years writing grant proposals, their work and income relies on these cycles. So even if this is "temporary", a lot of people are going to struggle.

This is not just a few people in lab coats somewhere, working on something you don't care about. Government-funded research is released to the public, since we paid for it, and is very typically about things the public will want to know:

Is this product safe or deadly?

Is this medication actually a "wonder drug" or does it harm you in the long term?

Is this pollution going to affect us long-term?

Etc.

Seriously, if you wanted any of those things to get better — you wanted lower rates of cancer and other deadly and disabling disease? You worry about trusting public health guidelines because you're concerned about bias and vested interests in research? You want "small government" that doesn't interfere with people's bodies based on a small group's religious dogma, with zero basis in factual, verifiable reality?

Then you should have voted to keep this administration out of government.

Because their idea — which is outlined in Project 2025, and they are following it closely — is that research will be required to rely 50% on private funding.

Guess what private funding introduces a ton more of: private interests, private bias. The interests of stakeholders who do not give a shit if you are being killed by their product, as long as line goes up in the short run.

But even beyond scientific researchers — and those who rely on that work, e.g. journalists, science communicators, public health advocates, scientific artists —

grants fund others like: teachers, police, farmers, women's and homeless shelters, native orgs, medical workers, and on the list goes.

All pending "review" by a thoroughly unqualified gang of convicted criminals and cronies.

[planetaryupscaled]

Pushing Boundaries

Male Reader x Jennie

Tags: 23k, cheating, anal, creampie, oral, tw

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

Driving an Idol, Jennie Kim in this case, should have been a great job; after all you got to spend time with her in close company every day, to check her out and take in her gorgeous figure with every sly and secret glance at her. It was simply a perk of the job, what was at times a very long and tedious job despite the company you kept.

On this particular job things had been generally running smoothly though you were out in the middle of nowhere so the drives were long and the place to stay was nothing special. It was a nicer motel than the average schmuck might get sure but it still wasn’t the same as a nice hotel in a city, not that you often got a chance to stay there. Being “just a driver” meant you was often given basic budget digs and simply had to drop off your charge at a posh hotel, but that was part of the gig. Right now however you are in a simple motel and so were the star of the stage, meaning all you had to do was drive one place to another and nobody got anything better than anyone else.

Things had been good but were starting to unravel; the production was getting behind schedule, reshoots were constant now it seemed and you had to wait until much later than normal to complete your duties. Everything seemed to be going wrong and today was no exception as Jennie, expecting to finish her shooting and head back to the motel and a much desired shower, had been dressed down by the ever-more-angry director and ordered to reshoot several scenes because her work had been “utter shit and lazy, diva bullshit” to quote him directly. Jennie had got into a huge, storming argument with him over her alleged “lacklustre work” that had meant she’d screamed her voice hoarse and ended with tears streaming down her face to help ruin her make-up as well.

Of course you didn’t know any of this, you only noticed her face of thunder as she stormed up to the car three hours late, having had to calm down and be retouched by the cosmetic team before reshooting all the shots the director wanted, evidently making a point in putting Jennie in her place in front of the rest of the crew. She was seriously pissed as she wrenched the door open, straining it against the check strap before it almost bounced back on her, muttering and cursing under her breath as she threw herself into the seat beside you and slammed the door shut. She was in a seriously bad mood, you’d never seen her like that and just kept your distance as the Idol threw her bag down and didn’t even look at you.

“Drive, fucking drive,” she muttered intently.

“No problem,” you said quietly and started the car, pulling it into drive and setting off, wasting no time and letting the engine roar despite it being cold. Who cared, it wasn’t your car.

“Fucking asshole,” she muttered, seething with unexpressed rage as it ran over and over in her mind. You just kept quiet as she mumbled to herself and focused on driving, not wanting to get caught in the tornado of her mood. It didn’t seem to matter though and she just went off about it, venting on him and drawing you into it given you had no way to escape.

“What a load of bullshit, he just doesn’t fucking like me!” she snapped, to him but also herself as much as anything. You just looked ahead and murmured non-committally, not really having anything to add given you had no clue about the situation...though you knew Jennie; she was a hard worker and dedicated herself to her projects, you knew that much, but she did come across as a bit of a diva at times and you figured this was one of those moments.

“He was just picking on me! Picking me out, trying to make himself look big or something,” she babbled, looking across to you repeatedly as she animatedly ranted, waving her hands as she let her rage just pour out as she tried to elicit a response from you.

“That’s bullshit,” you murmured, knowing from your experience with woman that she was really on one and there was no point getting involved if you could help it. Telling her to relax or calm down would only turn her ire on you, and you really didn’t want that.

“All those fucking reshoots, Aish, what time is it even?” she said, looking round for the car clock and seeing it was nearly eight in the evening already.

“Nearly three hours, three hours of pointless do-overs,” she rambled.

“Well, it’s done now, let’s just get back to the motel,” you offered, pressing the accelerator just a bit harder to speed things up.

“Oh yeah great, a drive back for an hour to a crappy little motel with a bad shower!” she snapped.

“Company could be worse though,” you quipped, trying to lighten the mood with a glance across to her for the first time. All she had for you was an icy stare, not remotely in the mood to cheer up.

“Yeah, could be better though,” she said off-handedly, looking back out the window as she dismissed you. It stung, you had to admit; your relationship with her was pretty close, you both got along well and usually had fun driving to and from the set every day despite the length of the journey. She was usually fun and a bit flirty with you, playing a good bit of back and forth despite the ring on her finger and being honest it really knocked you back a bit with her being such a bitch when you’d never done anything bad to her.

“Feel free to walk,” you retorted, hot headed, just giving your blunt response in that moment. It could cost you the job if she decided to continue being a bitch and have you fired, but you didn’t care just then.

“Oh you got an attitude too now?” she snapped, looking back at you. You simply remained focused on the road and didn’t rise to it; you didn’t want getting into an argument with Jennie Kim no matter how much she wanted it and just kept your mouth shut.

“I don’t need this shit, off anybody. I’m running a major company and I know what’s up. All these projects I’ve been doing lately as well, I don’t need to come onto a shitty project like this and get talked down to by some jumped up director who wants to get him rocks off pretending he’s better than me,” she ranted, getting into it again and just winding herself up like a clockwork monkey, ready to bang her drums and make lots of noise for a short while.

“Right,” you said, again trying to distance yourself from it all with a roll of your eyes as you heard her start talking about another projects. You didn’t want to hear her media-approved schpiel about it all in some effort to convince you, you’d heard that before.

“Can your attitude. You’re no better either,” she snapped, turning on you quite literally and leaning over the center console towards you.

“What?” you replied, basically blurted out, caught out by her accusation.

“Yeah, think I don’t notice you looking at my ass? I saw you checking out my ass as I got in the car when you thought I wasn’t looking. I know my underwear was riding up, bet you like that don’t you?” she accused, narrowing her eyes as she stared at you with pure malice for a moment.

“Well...I...” you struggled, knowing you were busted as your heart rate rushed, body momentarily panicking as you realised she’d noticed you checking her out.

“Yeah you thought you got away with that, taking a look at my ass every time I got out of your car. This is what I’m talking about, I thought you were a good guy and then I see you doing that every day. What the fuck man,” she said, giving a shake of her head and looking out the window again.

“I thought we had a relationship more than that now,” she added, giving you no time to respond as she kept on at it, eluding to the fact you both been riding together for weeks now. In fact, the reason she sat up front was because she didn’t want to be in the back like your task required, she wanted to chat with you and have fun so despite the large vehicle she sat in the front seat next to you and talked with you on every ride.

“But you just look at me like a piece of meat, someone you’d like to fuck huh?” she said, goading you, giving you the come-on as she looked for more of a fight. You had no idea why she was insistent that it should be you -- perhaps you were just the next guy she’d run into that was below her that she could take it out on.

“Would you rather I didn’t want to fuck you?” you asked after a pause, raising an eyebrow at her. Surely she would prefer to be desired than ignored.

“I....hey fuck that, alright? That’s bullshit. Even if I did want that it doesn’t mean you should be checking what panties I have on every fucking day,” she snapped, momentarily caught off balance but responding with further bile.

“Well that’s how it is, I guess. I’m gonna look, you got me,” you replied with a nonchalant shrug, not caring now given she was clearly just going off and whatever you said didn’t matter a fuck.

“Fucking perv,” she scolded, giving you a look that you assumed was meant to be mean but just came off as a bit silly, too try-hard.

“You shouldn’t be looking at my ass like that, that’s not cool, I’m not some fuck doll for you to fantasize about,” she added. You rolled your eyes again, pressing the accelerator harder, intending to get this drive done as fast as possible and drop Jennie Kim, the bitch, off at the motel before finding a drink.

“And I’m your boss,” she said, looking across to you slyly, the implication clear...though she went on to expand in her somewhat vicious intent. You wanted to ignore it, just let it go but she was pushing and your hands were tightening hard on the steering wheel. Your knuckles were white from tension, movements jerky as you restrained yourself from reacting to her bullshit diva behaviour; it wasn’t your fault her director thought she wasn’t pulling her weight and had had at her but she was unloading it aggressively on you and something had to give.

“And I can get you fired, I don’t have to put up with this shit,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she stared at you.

“Fine,” you said, trying to hold back your temper that she’d bubbled up now; you had a temper, you wouldn’t deny that, but you kept cool and controlled especially with your job on the line but right now she was winding you up and you were struggling not to just let it go and tell her to shove this job straight up her tight, toned ass.

“And fucking slow down! Are you trying to kill us?” she exclaimed, seeing the speedo nudging 97mph as you aimed to get back to the motel as fast as possible. Jennie squealed and lurched forwards towards the dashboard as you stamped on the brakes, the car diving suddenly as you decelerated and throwing her forwards which she noticed immediately as she hadn’t fastened her seatbelt in her anger.

“Aish!” she cried out, catching herself and fumbling around as you spotted a good place to pull of the road and pulled the car onto it, tyres sliding in the dust as you skidded to a halt and lurched back, a cloud blowing all around as she sat back up.

“What the fuck?!” she asked hurriedly, pushing her hair back from her face.

“Just shut the fuck up, would you? Give me a break!” you snapped sharply, loudly, leaning close to her face as you said it. Jennie recoiled in shock, eyes widening as you suddenly spoke to her so bluntly.

“Fuck you, I own you!” she shot back, finding her nerve again, getting the fight she seemingly wanted after all.

“Fuck you, you don’t own me,” you shouted, then reached out to grab her, making her squeal as you manhandled her between the seats and threw her into the back of the car, where she usually rode up front with you. Jennie tumbled untidily into the rear seats, her ass giving a gorgeous glimpse as you threw her into the back before she collapsed onto the leather bench seat.

“Oh big man huh, gonna just get rid of me?” she said, pushing her hair back and pushing up on her elbow as she waited for your response.

“Just fucking can it, Jennie,” you snapped.

“Oh big man, gonna throw a woman around. What, you gonna come back here and fuck me as well are you?” she replied, the challenge clear in her tone.

“Maybe I should,” you said quietly, meaningfully. Jennie paused momentarily, not quite expecting your response and thinking it over for a split second before she replied.

“Oh really? Fine maybe you should,” she said, unable to back down, her ego too big to retreated.

“Oh yeah?” you answered, looking at her in the rear view mirror, seeing her eyes, those big, honest eyes that told you everything you needed to know: she was serious.

“Yeah fine, go on, fuck me. Why don’t you show me what you’ve got tough guy,” she said, no question or doubt in it, just a statement - an invitation.

“Fine,” you responded curtly and shoved the door open, getting out as Jennie’s heart raced, breathing fast as you stepped round and opened the back to get in with her as she immediately made space for you. She’d wound you up relentlessly and she knew she’d done it on purpose but she wasn’t sure her end goal with it all; you didn’t deserve it at all, none of her irritation was your fault, but she also knew she was desperately horny having been away from her fiancé for weeks and frankly this was the best possible outcome...as long as you kept your mouth shut.

You jumped in with her and locked the doors, wasting no more words on her as you seize the opportunity she’d presented you, grasping it with both hands as most men would. Jennie looked at you like a deer in the headlights for a moment before you grabbed hold of her, throwing her over on her tummy and shoving her towards the window, up into a doggystyle position as her forehead bumped the cold glass. You were strong and dominant, taking full physical control of her as you hauled her into position and then grabbed her trousers in readiness.

“Gonna finally fuck me now huh? Everything you wanted? I bet you’ve dreamed of this as you stared at my ass,” she goaded, finding her attitude again for a moment as she made no protest of what you were about to do and actually arched her back, sticking her ass out and letting her pussy bulge between her legs to invite you to get on with it.

She was hungry for it, waiting for the moment your cock slid into her; she knew she was going to shake as you did it which would give her away, that she loved it from the second you started fucking her but right now she didn’t care -- she needed to get fucked, and was sure she’d wound you up enough where you would. She needed it badly.

“Shut the fuck up,” you said simply, a straightforward command to the Idol as you grabbed her leggings and yanked them, and her thong, down her thighs to just above her knees, revealing her stubbly, half-shaved pussy and tight ass. Jennie shifted on the seat to get herself stable as you undid your trousers and released yourself as she imagined you standing up iron-hard for her, ready to split her in two. She didn’t have to wait long, mere seconds, for her question to be answered as you grabbed your rock hard cock and aimed it down to her hot, wet lips as your other hand grabbed her waist to constrain her, not that she needed it as you guided your cock to her opening.

Jennie cried out loudly in pleasure and pain as you suddenly plunged into her, wasting no time and doing exactly what she’d invited -- fucking her. You drove yourself into her hard as your silky body yielded to, and the clenches of her muscles did nothing to deter you as you slammed full depth inside her and shoved your hips into her ass as she cried out and grunted deeply, soulfully as you buried your cock totally inside her. Her pussy clenched hard and she shuddered in sensation, pain giving a sudden twinge but giving way to immediate pleasure at a cock being inside her for the first time in weeks, bumping against her cervix as it filled her completely.

She shuddered intently and knew the game was up, as she’d suspected her body had completely given away her excitement and arousal at this fuck and she was sure her wet pussy did little to dispel that. Your hand dug into her waist and pulled back at her hip as your other hand swiftly grabbed a handful of her dark hair, fingers twisting into her hair and pulling back at her head as she gasped. You wasted no time at all in fucking her, burying your cock into her initially then yanking back to get straight into a quick, hard rhythm; your pace was intense and full of frustration, rage even as you held her lithe bodily tightly and started absolutely fucking her hard and fast. You wasted no energy or motion, jamming her head into the window as she gasped and breathed hard, fogging up the glass as she looked out towards the road while you pounded into her from behind.

“This what you wanted is it?” you asked as you held on tight and fucked her, really fucked her, pounding hard and fast with short strokes that always hit full depth as you slammed yourself against her ass. You barely registered that you were fucking Jennie Kim of all people, your boss, the famous idol, just relishing the feel of her sweet, hot pussy clenching and squeezing around your cock as she absolutely loved your pounding into her from behind.

“Uh huh...” was all she could murmur, unable to lie as the pleasure washed over her, relief of finally getting fucked and so, so hard as you took out all your anger on your bitchy boss. You smiled as you continued, trying to find more pace and power, more energy, more aggression, more anger to let out on your evidently slutty boss who was quite happy to let you fuck her.

“Good, you fucking whore,” you said, adding to it as Jennie just groaned in pleasure as your rock hard cock slammed in and out of her, your hips jamming into her toned ass, making a gratuitous slapping sound as you cranked her back, pulling her hair harder as your intensity ramped up. It hurt, the burn in her scalp searing but she didn’t give a fuck, she was just loving it so much she’d frankly let you do anything you wanted with her as you pounded on her pussy and tingled her G-spot to drive her towards orgasm. You somehow knew what she needed and pushed up to lean over her more and push down against the sensitive spot at the front of her pussy

“Oh fuck,” she muttered under her breath as her cheek shoved against the glass, feeling your cock brutally push down against her vaginal wall, stimulating her perfectly, her arousal just too much as she felt her typically pre-orgasmic tremble shudder through her body. She was momentarily distracted as a truck suddenly went past, slower than it should, before heard the horn blare; you’d been spotted, seeing them pulled over and then her face jammed against the window with her eyes practically rolling as she gasped hungrily for more. Jennie just hoped she hadn’t been recognized as it disappeared down the road, focusing on to the sensations of your pounding against her ass once more and realizing she was ready to pop.

It’d taken no time at all; she was so horny and desperately in need of a good, thick cock inside her like she had right now that her body just responded to it, primally pushing all thoughts of her cheating from her mind as she shoved back into you as best she could. She needed every millimeter of your cock inside her and drove her pelvis back to maximize your penetration as she arched her back, your hand digging into her, face still shoved against the cold, sweaty glass as you pounded on her. The fact you’d clearly wanted to do this for so long only made it hotter, the way you’d just suddenly turned on her and fucked her, at her encouragement mind, taking her to task and now letting out every bit of frustration and want for her as you pounded her harder than she’d been fucked in years.

“Fuck me, god fuck me,” Jennie gasped, not caring that you knew she loved it now as you continued to smash her. Your hips slammed against her ass in a motion that must have been a blur, slapping noisily against her as your pulsing, twitching cock plunged into her again and again. Your shoves against her G-spot and the sustained way you were driving almost against her cervix had only cranked her orgasm up and up and with a sudden shudder it gave way as she came -- hard. She shook and opened her eyes, grunting hard as she climax washed over her rapidly, gazing through the misted winded onto the empty surroundings as her breath caught and stuttered into fast, struggling gasps through her noises.

You smile as you continued to pump yourself into her with all your might, loving how snug and wet her pussy was wrapped around your cock, loving how she shook and just begged for you to take her. Watching her come was a satisfying reward, loving that you’d made the gorgeous Idol peak in two minutes, unable to help herself as she whined in pleasure and dug her nails into the seat cushion. You pounded on her hard as she slowed down and quaked more deeply in culmination of her orgasm, the immense pleasure fading to leave her fragile and sensitive, fumbling to pull away from you.

“Slow down,” she breathed, barely a mumble through gasps for air, trying to recover as her forehead prickled with sweat. She tried to ask for it even as she knew you wouldn’t slow down, knowing she was your little toy right now and you were running the show whether she liked it or not. In fact, she loved it and even as she trembled in overwhelmed sensations, your thick cock ploughing her sweet pussy harder and faster than ever given how wet she was. There was no mercy, no break, no pause in your fucking, just slamming yourself into her as she struggled to take it though it only turned her on more than ever -- her fiancé never fucked her like this any more.

She grunted and groaned through it as you pummeled her ass with your hips, your thick cock straining and pulsing inside her, feeling harder than ever as you pursued your own orgasm. Her hot, clenching pussy had only helped to accelerate your climax and now you starting to bubble, the thought of finally fucking Jennie Kim getting to you. Jennie herself just moaned and mumbled tiredly in pleasure and a cocktail of stimulation as your thick shaft drove into her again and again, though you could feel her deliberately squeezing and clamping down on you with her vaginal muscles, aiming to maximize your ride and make her pussy the tightest she could.

“Fuck,” you grunted, your first exclamation that told Jennie you were enjoying her as much as she enjoyed you, her body so hot and tight, hands digging into her, loving how she responded to the rough treatment as you fucked her hard and fast with little focus on her own pleasure. Her orgasm said everything you needed to know about her love it and now it was time for your own, the tingle you’d been holding back growing into a deep, intense release that was waiting to burst forth. With no reason to now hold it back and her ass still shoving back into her cock as she worked to please you, you just picked up your efforts, somehow finding a bit more pace to smash yourself into her in the shortest, hardest strokes you could manage as she whined in pleasure.

“Don’t come inside me,” she breathed, urging you to pull out as she felt you strain and twitch, knowing you was on the brink and holding back for a final few intense, hard, body-shaking thrusts into her to slam her against the window. Instead she grunted as your hand dug into her waist and you shoved her face hard against the glass, smearing her lipstick onto it as she gave a muffled complaint while you jammed yourself as deep as possible.

“I’m come wherever I fucking feel like,” you said in a near growl, making her tremble in excitement, unable to deny how much she loved being fucked like this, totally dominated and owned as your thrusts immediately picked up the pace again. It was an overwhelming, eye-rolling moment of discovery as she was reminded what it was like to get properly fucked as you absolutely unloaded every bit of energy you had and stroked your cock into her with short, rapid pumps until you gave a final stiffen, a few last strokes and slammed hard into her to get full depth before your cock jerked and spurted deep inside to unload yourself against her cervix.

“Oh fuck...” she breathed as she felt your hot cum burst into her, spilling at the entrance to her womb; even though she’d asked you not to she wasn’t the least surprised you’d blown it inside her, choosing the most enjoyable method and leaving it up to her to deal with. It was hotter that you’d deliberately ignored her and done exactly what she’d asked you not to, just dismissing her and dominating her to the last as your balls tightened and you exploded inside her with short, hard gasps. You squeezed and clenched your muscles hard to urge every last drop of your cum into the pretty idol, giving in to the extreme pleasure of it all and letting it shudder through you, relishing the moment as you emptied your balls inside Jennie Kim. It’d been weeks since you’d had a chance to get any relief yourself and to finally get that with her of all people was a dream come true.

“Fuck that was good,” you breathed, squeezing a couple of more times as you just rested inside her, letting yourself have every chance before you slipped back out of her easily and turned to sit down on the seat.

“Yeah, exactly what I needed,” she breathed honestly, sinking into the seat but not looking back at you, embarrassed with herself and how much she’d enjoyed it. She’d given you the come on though and knew it was entirely her doing so she could hardly complain.

“Good,” you replied simply, pulling your trousers up and pushing the door open, Jennie inhaling as the breeze blew in over her bare ass and dropping to the seat now as you slammed the door and then momentarily slipped back into the driver’s seat. Jennie just rolled over and clumsily fumbled her yoga pants and thong back up, tugging them awkwardly over herself as she covered herself after the roughest, and most exciting, fuck she’d had for years. She felt exhausted, slumping into the back seat and letting it take over her, the tension falling off her like a coat in the aftermath as you started the engine and pulled away from the side of the road. Jennie looked up and your eyes met in the rear view mirror, a look that said everything -- you had everything she needed right then, and you was going to give it to her.

“You’re coming back with me,” you said quietly, commandingly.

“Yeah well, of course, same motel and all,” she proffered, trying to break the topic as if she didn’t know what you meant. She of course wasn’t stupid and knew exactly what you were saying.

“Don’t be stupid, Jennie,” you said with another look in the mirror, “I’ve got exactly what you need.”

“So speed up and give it to me, don’t make me wait,” she replied after a pause, longer than it should have been as she tried to think of a way to counter that. She didn’t have one and agreed that frankly you did have what she needed, and wanted, for the night so fuck it, she might as well just encourage it. She hardly had to wait as she heard the engine roar and the car surged forward, sinking into the seats and relaxing as she recovered, feeling both immensely satisfied by her climax and horny again already, knowing she was going towards a night of being fucked her without an ounce of control.

She fumbled around and got her phone out, looking through it as you focused on driving back as the light of the day failed and faded, sun sinking below the horizon now to bath the road in twilight. Jennie kind of enjoyed being your passenger again, riding in the back even if it was after you’d forcibly thrown her there and then fucked her. Fucked her harder than she’d ever imagined you would, and bought yourself a ticket to her for the rest of the night.

In what seemed like no time at all thanks to touching triple figures on the speedo you pulled up at the motel, guiding the luxury sedan into the entrance and parking up in easy reach of the front door. Few people were there at the bar except for the staff crew, and many of them hadn’t returned yet. You pulled up and stopped the car, getting out to open the rear door for her and usher her out towards the entrance of the motel like a proper guest. You saw her into the place then once they were away from the main foyer you grasped her hand and pulled her along, directing her towards your room as you made sure she couldn’t change her mind. She had no intention and let you pull her towards her night of adventure, unlocking your door easily and pulling her inside.

“Smaller than yours I assume,” you said with a smile, gesturing around; it was smaller than hers but not by as much as you’d think as her room at this place wasn’t exactly majestic, it was just a small motel in the middle of nowhere. It really was the middle of goddamn nowhere, which was why she was here in the first place, ready to get fucked even though she’d never had imagined she’d do this. It wasn’t her at all, she was faithful. Not any more though she figured, but despite that she wasn’t going to be a pushover and wanted to get some control back, to drive what happened and not let you treat her like a total fucktoy as was clearly your intent. Her body hadn’t given you any idea she wanted anything different mind.

“Look, I’ll stay the night and all, you got me alright,” she said as you threw your jacket down, looking up to her.

“We’ll hook up but it’s not like that,” she said, trying to wrestle back control of the whole situation somewhat.

“Not like what?” you questioned.

“That,” she said pointedly, raising her eyebrows, “like what just happened. I’m not your little fuckdoll for the night or something, I’m still your boss.”

“Yeah right,” you said with a short laugh, looking her up and down, amused by her faux indignation and attempt to boss you about.

“I’m serious, I don’t...” she started but was immediately cut off by you surging toward her to stand face-to-face with her, towering over her, making her suddenly feel small and powerless before you.

“Shut the fuck up, Jennie,” you said coolly, calmly...dominantly. She felt a tremble run through her and instantly wanted to submit, to let you take charge of her even if consciously she felt she shouldn’t.

“I’m in charge here,” you said, reaching out and firmly squeezing her breast through her baggy top, making her murmur then squeak as you were particularly rough with her.

“And you’re going to do exactly what you’re told tonight, just like you want to. You’re gonna be my perfect little obedient fuckdoll for the night, you really are,” you said deeply, so cool and calm with her. Jennie took a deep breath, realizing her heart was racing, pounding in her chest as you just totally owned her leaving her unable to reply. She simply didn’t know what to say or do.

“Now take your clothes off,” you ordered, stepping away from her to pull your own shirt off.

“All of them?” she blurted out, even though she knew the answer, scolding herself for even asking.

“Yes, Jennie, all of your clothes. What else do you think I’d want,” you replied, stripping yourself and leaving her to catch up as she took a breath and set about peeling her clothes off. It took her only a few moments to throw off her casual hoodie and top, easily unclipping her comfortable, unsexy bra and then shoving her yoga pants down again and this time off her feet to leave herself standing naked before you as she awaited instructions. Her dignity and any semblance of fight had left her completely and now she’d resigned herself to being exactly what you wanted her to be -- your fuckdoll. And she was sure she was going to love it.

“Very nice,” you said, glancing up her lithe, toned body, her workout regime paying off handsomely as she stood before you like a treat. She was slender, abs defined, a lovely thigh gap and her pussy was shaved into a nice landing strip, though she hadn’t kept up with it for a couple of days and stubble prickled her skin.

“Thanks,” she replied shyly, stupidly given what had already done. She was just waiting for you to lead her, which you did.

“Let’s take a shower,” you said, walking to the bathroom without a backwards glance. You just knew she would follow you and your trust that she would infuriated her, made her bossy attitude burn; she was literally your boss and could have you fired any time she wanted, but here she was in your room letting you order her about like someone you’d paid for. And what made it worse for her was she was giving into it, just feeling helplessly commanded by you and wanting to submit. She’d never been treated like this in the bedroom and couldn’t help herself, almost wanting to see where it went as much as anything else as she followed you into the bathroom.

The shower was already running with you standing under the hot cascade of water, washing down as she walked into the bathroom. You looked up to her right at the moment when she shivered, feeling your load of cum sinking down under gravity and threatening to leak out of her. You smiled and held out a hand to encourage her in, a hand that Jennie took slowly, letting herself be led into the shower and a night of exploration. She knew that’d been her last possible chance to leave but realistically she’d never even considered it -- if she was going to be pissed off and regret this, she wanted to see it to the end so she could properly complain about it, like watching a bad movie and refusing to walk out.

“Ohh,” she shivered as you pulled her under the hot spray, the night not cold but having been feeling a little chill without her clothes, the warmth of the shower tingling her perfectly. You pulled her into your arms beneath the tumbling water and finally fixed her with a kiss, pressing your lips to her firm, full pout. Tongues immediately entwined and found a perfect rhythm, mixing easily, so much better than she’d ever expected with a first kiss as you leaned down into her under the spray as she pressed her naked body to yours. She could already feel your erection pushing up into her tummy as your lust for her made itself evident, which she guessed she couldn’t really complain about as you felt her stiff nipples push into her body as her lovely breasts squashed between them.

“Mm someone’s ready,” she murmured with a smile as she felt your cock grow to full hardness as your hands slid down her back and squeezed her tight ass.

“Yeah, so don’t hesitate,” you murmured, kissing down her neck as she leaned back and sighed in pleasure, body tingling. She loved having her neck kissed and arousal spread through her like a wave, spurring her hand to fumble between them and wrap her slender fingers around your hard cock. It gave her a chance to properly explore and assess it given previously it was only being thumped into her cunt hard and fast from behind. Her hand stroked slowly up and down as you kissed her again, the hot water splashing down over while your own hands squeezed her ass, fingers teasing over her tightest hole before moving up to squeeze at her tits, your large hands easily encompassing her fairly petite chest, thumbing at her nipples carefully to stimulate the hard points.

You both didn’t speak, not needing to, satisfied at finally getting your hands on Jennie Kim, the woman you’d been driving to every day and who was in essence your boss. She was just lost to the pleasure of somebody finally getting their hands on her, the physical relief of it something she hadn’t realized she’d needed until now, loving the feel of your hands sliding and groping over her body, taking in every womanly curve of her, making her feel wanted and desired, lusted for, like a woman.

You reached out and grabbed shower gel from the shelf on the wall, liberally spreading it into your hands before soaping her up, spreading it over her shoulders and down her back to her ass. She just murmured as you spread her ass and reached down into every crevice of her body, pulling back from her to soap over her front. You spent plenty of time on her tits and enjoyed every bounce and squeeze of her as you spread the soap over her before lathering down her body, taking in her slender waist and the curve of her hips, her lovely strip of pubic hair and toned legs. She was quite taken by the way you showed her respect as you soaped her up and then turned her into the shower to rinse her down, loving the way the soap just seemed to peel down her body towards her feet over her lightly tanned skin.

Jennie murmured in pleasure as she just loved the intimacy of a shower with you, loving the attention you were giving her after too long without it. Your hands on her were a delight, sliding over her soapy body and taking in every womanly curve of her figure as you did, knowing exactly what you were doing with her. Jennie wondered how she’d completely overlooked you as your skill was evident and the thick cock she still had her hand wrapped around was a perfect fit. Oh sure she’d randomly contemplated doing it, she did with many men, but she’d never been serious about giving you a shot and realized she’d probably missed out. You had her now though and she was very sure you were going to give her everything you could; you’d already fucked her as though it was your only chance with her and she was sure things would only follow suit.

“Kneel down,” you said, only proving her right as she looked up into your eyes and then locked lips with you again, tongues fighting before she broke away and sank down in the shower with your hard cock throbbing right in front of her face. Assuming you wanted a blowjob she wasted no time in sucking you off, stroking and then immediately engulfing your cock in blissful liquid heat as her tongue assaulted. You groaned in pleasure and pulled your hand into her hair to encourage her as your cock swelled in her mouth, flexing and straining as you shivered at the incredible sensations of her velvet touch, feeling her suck firmly as she started bobbing her head.

Jennie rather enjoyed sucking cock and knew it always made men happy, loving the way they just melted to her touch as she set about devouring them, pushing them into her throat to let them feel her yield and stretch, shudder at her suck and tremble at her tongue. And as much as you loved that, intent on enjoying it fully, it wasn’t what you’d shoved her down for her and managed to refrain from getting lost in it totally as you reached out to squeeze some more shower gel into your hand and lather them together.

“Stop, Jennie, stop,” you reluctantly asked, pulling back a little to let your cock slip out of her mouth as she rocked back onto her heels and looked up at you. It was a perfect scene; the lovely Jennie Kim knelt before you, your hard cock pulsing moments from her mouth, her big eyes staring up to you in total obedience as the water splashed down.

“This is what I want,” you said firmly, your dominant tone directing her effortlessly as you reached down with both hands to soap and squeeze her firm tits in readiness before grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her up onto her knees. She cried out slightly as you yanked her up, pulling her to her tallest position as your other hand guided your cock to press it against her chest between her firm B-cups, the implication clear.

“Wow ok I’ve never really done this much,” she conceded, since her more humble chest wasn’t something many men seemed to focus on.

“I don’t care, grab them,” you ordered and with that Jennie did exactly what she was told and pushed her hands up under the sides of her tits to squeeze them together around your cock. She didn’t really know what she was doing but figured it would work just fine as she looked down to see her petite boobs squeeze up around your cock, feminine flesh engulfing your manhood with the soap concealing her nipples. Your hands went to her shoulders as you thrust against her, your cock easily slipping up against her wet, slippery body, trusting her to keep control her lovely breasts as you pushed your cock between them. You drew back slowly and then thrust up against her again with a slow, controlled motion that let you feel every little thing.

Your cock glided easily against her succulent, soapy body, the softness of her tits absolutely divine as they wrapped around you and perfectly sealed against the throbbing hardness of your cock. She just looked down as you started to thrust against her with a slow, powerful rhythm that told her that you wanted to enjoy it as her body rocked with your energy. You held her and she was glad that you did as your thrusts pushed her back towards her heels, something she knew would have made her toned thighs burn if she’d had to resist it all herself, able to focus solely on pressing her perky tits up around you.

Her nipples were rock hard as the soap slid off the neat, screwed up points of her breasts, water trickling down over her as you shielded most of the shower behind you. She looked down and enjoyed the sight of your thick cock pushing up between her tits, loving the way her body yielded and smoothly gave way to your manhood as you shoved it slowly and deliberately against her body. Unable to resist the pleasure of it, you started to pick up the pace and pump your hips forward against her faster, pushing into her more firmly to make her rock back then resist as you used her body for your pleasure. Jennie looked up to you, taking her gaze from her chest as she looked up to you with a smile, rather enjoying giving you a tit fuck especially when you seemed to enjoy it so much.

“Like that huh?” she asked through her smile, starting to rock her body a little, tightening her abs to let herself push down onto as you thrust up, accentuating the sensations around your rock hard erection as you slid between her perfect, soap-slick tits.

“You seem pretty good at this for someone that’s not done it before,” you smiled, not slowing down for a moment.

“I didn’t say I hadn’t, just not much,” she replied with a naughty little half-smile.

“Well you should do it more, you seem a natural,” you said, straining against her harder as she worked at you, getting into a motion as the water poured down over your back, steam filling the bathroom from the hot water as she worked up and down to massage her gorgeous tits around your cock. Just to enjoyed it for a couple more minute, you pushing harder and faster against her sternum while she focused on pressing her tits together for you, soap washing gradually away so there was more friction, more intensity to encourage you to thrust quicker as your erection pulsed between her tits.

Your fingers dug into her shoulders more and you helped to push her down as she bobbed on her knees, arching her back as she worked. Her breaths were short and sharp, almost rasping as she exerted herself, feeling the ache in her body and oblique muscles as she exercised herself in a somewhat unusual way. She worked out a lot, her video posts on social media showed that off plenty to everyone that wanted to drink in her tight body, but this motion was unlike anything she trained for as she compressed herself but arched her back to push her perky chest out for you. Still, her abs were strong and she put herself into it, doing all she could as the bathroom filled completely with steam so you both practically couldn’t see, condensation streaming off the mirrors and glass, beaded over everything cold or metal.

“Mm fuck,” you growled, cock jerking against her stiffly, so much so it made Jennie sure you were going to pick up the pace and work to the end on her before you suddenly slowed. Giving a final, lingering push up again her chest, you held for a moment then released her, stepping back as she let go of her tits, in tune with your clear intention for that to be it with her tits -- for now at least.

“Come on, we’ve got things to do,” you said, pulling her up from her knees by her arm, which helped given her somewhat tingling legs from where she’d been knelt down.

“You have…” she said, looking you in the eyes, “me.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, loving that she was seemingly onboard now and was enjoying herself. You turned the taps and shut the shower off, the hot cascade suddenly stops and leaves embraced by silence, broken only by the last few drips of the water fading away. You stepped out and grabbed a towel, throwing it back to Jennie as if she was always at your place as you picked up another for yourself, burying your face in it and rubbing through your hair. She let it tumble open before pressing it to herself, not bothering to be modest as there was no point, rubbing over her body to absorb the water from her body as you watched on with a smile. Her make-up had survived surprisingly well, only a little smudged from the shower.

She smiled back and just let you enjoy the view as she reached down to dry her legs, rubbing over her tight pussy before pulling the towel behind her to draw it over her back and down across her ass. Jennie giggled a little as you seemed enthralled by her, just drinking in the sight as she lifted the towel up to work it through her damp hair, stretching and displaying her body perfectly as you absent mindedly dried yourself, hands just on autopilot as you didn’t miss a thing.

“Very nice, all those workouts clearly pay off,” you commented, the evidence right in front of you.

“Thanks, I certainly work hard enough,” she replied as you cast your towel aside and grabbed her hand, leaving her idly rubbing round her neck as you led her out of the steamy bathroom into the main bedroom once more. You pulled her to the bed and then turned round, sitting back down onto it, your stiff cock sticking up for her; she assumed you would just pull her into your lap and slide inside her again to make her ride this time but found you had other plans.

“Kneel,” you commanded, pulling down at her wrist to urge her towards the floor. Without hesitation she sank to the floor smoothly, kneeling on the carpet at your feet and swallowing in preparation for what she assumed would be another blowjob.

“Up, now,” you commanded, Jennie struggling to her feet on tingling legs as you pulled her hair -- then took her by complete surprise by twisting and grabbing her over the shoulder and between the legs like a body slam and throwing her powerfully over and down onto the bed.

She squealed as you swung her over and cast her down on the sheets, her slender body bouncing on the mattress as her feet jumped up towards the ceiling, looking backwards as you stood over her. Without a word you grabbed her wrists and pulled her to the edge of the bed, Jennie craning up to look around before you shoved her head down, tipping it back off the side of the bed.

“Right there, that’s what I want,” you said firmly, dominantly, using a tone she’d not heard from any man and it made her tingle in excitement...and obedience. She knew she had no control over things anyway and just opened her mouth like whore, knowing it was what you wanted her to do and would make her if she didn’t. You were so turned on to see her just present herself, opening her mouth and closing her eyes, head back, knowing what you would do to her. This wouldn’t be any ordinary blowjob and you didn’t disappoint in showing her how, grabbing her face to direct her as you dipped your knees and shoved your cock down with your other hand and straight into her waiting mouth.

Jennie immediately sucked and applied her tongue, giving you a moment to enjoy her skills before you go straight to it and shoved into her throat. She gagged, unable to stop herself, knowing this was how it would be but unable to help herself. She’d never been very good at controlling her gag reflex but she got the feeling it wouldn’t matter a fuck to you right now. Jennie was absolutely right and you held her head and shoved hard into her throat, feeling her constrict and tighten around your cock to halt your progress. It didn’t deter you however and you knew you’d break her, shoving repeatedly with more and more pressure into her throat, making her gag and choke noisily, heaving on the bed before you, thick saliva running down her face now and making her close her eyes.

“Fucking take it, come on,” you said, an encouragement and an order at the same time, wanting into her throat as you pushed at her straining form. It took a few more attempts but with one, slow, powerful drive into her mouth you felt her resistance flutter, strain and fail suddenly so you jolted forwards into her and blissfully buried every inch of your cock into her hot, squeezing throat as she could fight it no longer. The noise she made was music to your ears as she gave a loud, wet gagging sound that was immediately muffled, wrenching and convulsing on the bed as she struggled before she gagged hard through her nose.

Her hands dug into the bedding, not trying to fight as you might have expected and as she might have claimed she would only a little while before. She just intended to take it, even as her eyes streaming and her make-up ran down her face, throat aching as it tried to push your cock back out, body heaving and spasming on the bed. She fought to calm herself down as you pulled back and gave her a second to breathe, Jennie hauling in a huge breath before you shoved your cock back in and followed her inhale down to neatly trick her and thrust yourself back into her throat before her body could react. She surged and choked again, hating how her body was doing this and also you for doing it to her, though she couldn’t deny how wet her pussy was from it.

Her hand strayed from the bed even as the other stayed twisted up in the covers, knuckles white from how tight she was holding it. She pushed her hand over her body and down between her legs, shocked at how wet she was, drenching her fingers as she found her clit and started to slowly circle it to let the pleasure in. You loved seeing her start fingering herself, telling you that despite whatever she thought she was enjoying herself in a primal, physical manner and it only spurred you to keep going at her for your own pleasure. She was clearly enjoying that.

“That’s it, just let me in,” you murmured, the silence only punctuated by her heaves and wet gagging along with your deep, intense breaths. She mumbled something but you obviously couldn’t work out what and frankly you were enjoying yourself far too much to care or give her the time to speak. You were absolutely rock hard, tingling with pleasure as her throat tightened hard around the head of your cock to stimulate your nerves with every thrust into her resisting mouth. She gagged and mumbled as you smashed into her throat, making it bulge as you drove fully down each time.

Jennie’s fingers danced precisely at her clit as she pleasured herself to being used so completely, utterly under your control as you leaned over her and dominantly thrust your hips forward to force your cock into her throat. Even though her body kept trying to fight, unable to stop herself, her muscles were weak and aching, a mere token protest now as you powerfully and methodically pushed yourself into her throat. You were loving pushing down into her, seeing the slight catch as your bulging head popped into her throat and made her tense, trying to hold it down as you pressed yourself right into her throat until your balls were against her face.

You could only hold back and sustain that for a couple of minutes however before your lust and want to use her throat took over, steadying your feet and starting to thrust much faster. Your strokes were shorter and harder, full depth every time as she gasped desperately, choking back her gags and hauling in breaths where she could. Her dark eye make-up streaked down her face as her eyes watered helplessly and she clung to the bed, only with one hand however as her other continued to stimulate herself, more aggressively now, her fingers grinding around her sensitive button intently. Her tongue, which had been attempting to join the party, gave up under the onslaught and she just held it fixedly to stroke your cock as you pumped in and out of her mouth.

The wet sounds of her throat were all that broke the air of the room as you plundered Jennie Kim, taking joy at every moment you could, knowing this was a once in a lifetime chance. Your hands were pressed hard into the mattress of the basic motel room as you stood prone over it and thumped your hips down into her waiting mouth, loving the bulge of her throat around your head, tingling the most sensitive areas. You gazed down over her tight body, perky tits with her nipples screwed up hard, toned abs clenching and pulsing as she struggled to take your cock, her fingers still working hotly at her clit. This was certainly going to help work her abs out.

“Oh fuck,” you growled, feeling a characteristic tingle as your cock pulsed and stiffened, knowing your orgasm was coming fast. You didn’t know if Jennie could feel it but didn’t really care and pressed on hard, picking up speed to thrust harder, shoving against her pretty face more intensely as you pursued your climax towards its inevitable conclusion. She hadn’t felt the hardening of your cock, that typical rock hard pulse that always signified the arrival of climax, but she heard your breathing increasing, getting harder and shorter, feeling your energy picking up as you thrust more rapidly into her. She couldn’t do anything apart from brace herself on the bed, both hands now stuck into the bedding as she held tight and just endured it, still gagging and choking, struggling to breath and practically creaming herself without being touched. She absolutely loved it.

You didn’t pay much attention to it but you knew she was into it, loving her playing with herself as you felt the pressure build in your balls. Your thrusts turned to a flurry, intensity unleashed now as you pumped her throat as hard and fast as possible, barely pulling two inches out of her before shoving back against her full lips in an overwhelming rhythm that she could barely handle. Her breaths were gasps, wet strangled grabs of atmosphere as you grunted and growled with pleasure, eyes squeezing shut as you trembled, holding it back. Thick saliva ran from her mouth and down over her cheek to run into her hair and drip to the floor as you pumped her throat, unable to stop herself from gagging around you.

By now Jennie knew exactly what was coming and couldn’t do anything to change it even if she wanted to. You thumped your hips hard into her, shaking and holding on until it burst forth in a sudden, incredible explosion; jamming yourself against her hard to shove her head back into the foot of the mattress, your cock jumped and swelled as you ejaculated intensely down her throat, a thick rope deep into her where she had no choice but to swallow. Jennie gagged hard, as much as you suddenly stopping as anything, feeling your hot load jetting into her as your thick prick jumped and surged in her mouth.

All she could do was mumble, unable to breathe as you pinned her down to empty your balls, pressed to her face. She held on as you pulsed and jerked to spill every last drop of your thick, salty load down her throat and then held still to make her swallow, Jennie quickly figuring out you wasn’t going to let her go if she didn’t. It wasn’t a big deal, it was so deep down her throat it was half way there and with an awkward heave and a gurgle she swallow it all. You pulled back and slipped your thick cock out of her mouth, standing up as you withdrew to let the idol haul in a huge, undignified lungful of air, taking several deep breaths as she turned her head and let a huge string of thick drool slide out of her mouth to the floor with a mumble of embarrassment and relief.

“Fuck that was good,” you breathed. She couldn’t reply, totally exhausted after her first, proper throat fuck.

“Ready for some fun?” you asked as you reached down slapped her face a couple of times, making her complain and snapping her back to reality as you moved round the bed. She was completely at your mercy and unable to fight back, just zoned out for a moment as you grabbed hold of her feet and hauled her round on the bed, dragging her head back onto the mattress to give her neck some much needed support. She mumbled incoherently as you spread her legs wide open and exposed her shaved but stubbly pussy, pulling her to the edge of the bed so they hung over it.

Without a word you dropped to your knees and shoved your arms up under her thighs, shoving them over your biceps as you lowered your head and drew your tongue straight over her puffy labia, letting the tip split her lips so it collided with her sensitive, rock hard clit. Jennie gave a stuttering sigh, breathing deeply as you went down on her, your tongue immediately going straight back to her begging button and softly pressing perfectly into her folds to stimulate her. Jennie gasped and groaned heavily in pleasure as she tipped her head back into the bed and rolled her hips up towards your intimate touch.

“Oh fuck, that’s so good,” she breathed, having not had her pussy eaten in so long. Her fiancé was good at it but he hadn’t done it for her in a while and when she was so turned on already it was an absolute treat. Her whole body tingled as your tongue touched her clit, pushing up under the hood and circling around her, different textures of stimulating every desire of hers as it slipped over her. Her hips rocked rhythmically into your tongue as it worked up and down, steady and powerful as you breathed hotly over her mound and just stimulated her perfectly, seeming able to read her just right.

The Idol just groaned in satisfaction and unmitigated enjoyment as you lapped at her juicy pussy, already so turned on from what you’d just done to her as she’d shamelessly loved her first face fuck even if it had been a messy struggle. She was dripping wet and your tongue easily parted her swollen lips, splitting them effortlessly as you dipped down and dragged back up from her asshole all the way to her throbbing clit. You focused onto her juicy entrance, loving how she was into it as you glided over her and just teased, making her wait and frustratedly wiggle before burying your tongue inside her.

She moaned in ecstasy with a shiver, pulling her legs up against your hands as her skin goosepimpled, body alight at every touch now as she relished the way your tongue twisted and swelled inside her to stimulate every nerve ending of her velvet walls. You thrust it inside her and swirled around, her slick juices coating your chin as she basked in pleasure, loving how you seemed to pay attention to every part of her. That was only confirmed as you pushed down and pulled your tongue over her asshole, returning the favour as she gave a tremendous surge and her breath caught in her aching throat. She’d never had her asshole licked properly before and felt the new, exciting sensations as your tongue spent several seconds licking and playing over her tightest hole before you swept back up to her clit.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, reaching up to push her hair back from her face, arching her back and trying to push down harder into your expert tongue as it took her towards orgasm. The climax was building intently in her tummy as she felt things tightening up, the tension accelerating as it bubbled up from her soul towards the inevitable. You could feel it, the way she was rocking and pulsing, the tightening of her muscles under your hands as you held her on the end of the bed. It only made you even more focused and you ate her hard, going as briskly and powerfully as possible on her without giving her that bit too much, your tongue aching as you prodded, probed and circled her clit.

The tip of your tongue worked in hard, small motions as you thrust it over her clit from all directions, breaking it up with circles one way and then the other beneath her hood for the most direct stimulation. She gasped desperately as you took her to the edge, not making her wait or teasing her however as you pressed ahead and drove her over the edge with the continued onslaught of your intimate ministrations. Jennie gasped helplessly for a few seconds as she ground her pelvis against your chin, fingers digging into the bed as the climax rushed up on her until she could hold it back no longer with a tremendous shake.

Her eyes squeezed shut and she threw her head back into the bedding, long hair tumbling over her face as her body primally quaked as the powerful orgasm hit her. It was harder than any climax she’d had in months, certainly more than her vibrator had given her whilst out on the road and she just gave in completely to its power. She let out a long, wailing, trembling moan of unadulterated pleasure as her toes curled and legs bucked in your grasp, feeling you lean on her hips to hold her down as your tongue continued to thrash at her to make it last as long as possible. Her hips gave strained motions to try and push up into you as she enjoyed every last second of the wave of ecstasy you’d brought her, ignoring the near-cramps in her legs as her muscles screamed while she creamed.

And suddenly it was over, like falling off a cliff and back to reality as she was suddenly finished, squeezing her thighs together and fumbling down towards to push her fingers into your hair and stop you as she gasped deeply for breath. She sucked in the oxygen as her eyes opened to the bright room, vision wavering a little in the wake of it all before she closed her eyes again and sagged back into the bed, exhausted ecstasy taking over as you pulled yourself back from between her clenching thighs. Her legs sagged open easily as you pulled yourself away, the idol basking naked before you totally sated and relaxed.

You just sat back with a smile, rocking onto your heels as she breathed deeply on the bed, completely wiped out for a moment in the aftermath of another powerful orgasm. Holding her hair back, she enjoyed the silence and peace after coming hard again which only made her realize how much she’d needed this and that her toys simply weren’t enough for a prolonged period. Her basking was interrupted as your fingers suddenly slipped into her, making her inhale in surprise as two of your digits teased momentarily at her slick opening and then pushed inside. Her body just welcomed it and she easily spread around the penetration to allow your fingers to slide inside, her pussy so juicy and ready she would have struggled to stop it even if she’d wanted to.

She shuddered and groaned in sensitive pleasure, still touchy from her peak but ready for more as you delved inside her, stroking her velvet walls and thrusting them slowly in and out of her. You could feel just how hot and ready she was, perfect for you to slide your cock inside which you were going to do now that you were rock hard again and ready to give it to her. You curled your fingers back and pulled back towards her entrance to press up for her G-spot, seeking out that little rough patch on the front wall of her vagina and finding it expertly as she gasped, groaning and grinding her pelvis into your hand slowly to help you stimulate her as your fingertips worked neatly.

Just as she was getting into it, thinking you was going to work her to another climax with your fingers, you stood up and leaned over her, slipping out of her and grabbing her slender legs to lift them from where they still dangled over the bed. You pulled them up and threw them over your shoulders, pressing yourself against the back of her thighs as you reached down to line yourself up and in an instant thrust inside her. Jennie gasped in surprise as you immediately buried yourself inside her, her body offering no resistance or hesitation, just letting you bury every inch of cock into her tight body in a single stroke.

“Fuck,” she muttered with a shuddering breath, trying to take it in as her eyes squeezed shut, the shiver spreading through her body as it all overtook her. You shook in similar pleasure, the feel of her slick, tight pussy just too much as you delved inside her, feeling her gorgeous body rubbing over every sensitive millimeter of your manhood.

“Fuck that’s nice,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and just relishing the sensations as you pulled back and started thrusting into her, taking your time to be slow but powerful. Effortlessly drove yourself into her, your hips pressing to hers as she took you balls deep and grunted with every pump, feeling you shove into her completely and nudge her cervix as you bottomed out. She just flopped back on the bed and enjoyed letting you fuck her, loving your thick cock inside her, how it stretched her out and pulsed inside her velvet tunnel. Jennie could tell you were absolutely loving it, loving getting your hands on her, loving taking your bitchy boss down, loving getting your rocks off and turning the tables on her for the night.

And she did too. She hated that you had so much control over her but she couldn’t resist, knowing you had her since you could mention it to the right people and her fiancé might find out and you obviously had long since given up caring if she got you fired for this. She wasn’t going to, she had too much to lose and frankly was enjoying herself; she figured if she kept up her end of this deal then you wouldn’t say shit to anyone. Except her.

“Fucking love this don’t you?” you asked, making her point immediately.

“Uh huh,” she groaned with a smile, bracing herself on the bed underneath as your pace picked up and you started to thump harder against her ass as you drove yourself into her. You relished the feel of her, the slippery sensations, pulsing and flexing your cock inside her as you worked your hips to give her every last bit of it. She was certainly enjoying it as she rolled her hips on you, doing her best given the way you were holding her legs and restraining her movements, the idol just using her significant muscle tone to resist and shove against you to rock her body.

You smiled down at her, loving her toned and lithe body as she held herself tight and worked her pelvis, tight abs looking delectable as she did, tilting her hips down with every ever-accelerating thrust into her. Your pace picked up but you were in full control, calm and cool, your cock hard and up to the task as you fucked the gorgeous Idol. Didn’t let the fact that this was something that would likely never have happened, not letting the moment overwhelm or overexcite as you pumped into her, confident in your endurance as she gasped and groaned in sheer pleasure beneath, just giving up to the enjoyment of it all and letting herself feel every thrust and motion of it.

You pushed your hands up under her knees then pressed them back onto her, rolling her hips back and pinning her legs down over her as you used her impressive, gym-honed flexibility to bend her into the position you wanted. Jennie was pinned down as your helpless fuckdoll now as you leaned right over her and started to fuck harder, pumping much faster and shorter into her as you suddenly picked up the pace to thump your thick cock into her hungry pussy with greater intensity. You surprised her by leaning down between her legs and kissing her, drawing her into a hot, hurried lip lock, tongues battling noisily as you never let up with your pumping, never disturbed or disrupted, hand still pinning her legs back under her knees as you both made out hungrily.

You pulled away from her and stood back up, thrusting into her harder and more intently, making her grunt at a twinge from her cervix as you plunged especially deep before she was lost to the pleasure of your thrusting into her hard and fast. Using the entire length of your cock, slammed back and forth rapidly, stimulating every nerve ending she had it felt like as her pussy just lit up around you, loving the feel of you fucking her hard now. The renewed angle meant you shoved up against her G-spot more effectively, the contours and ridges of your cock gliding and grinding over the sensitive patch to make her pussy clench.

You knew exactly what you were doing, knowing exactly how to fuck to give the maximum pleasure to women and Jennie Kim was no different. She was proving it as she gasped faster underneath, loving how you pinned her down and slammed your cock into her, your pace much faster now as you ploughed her with your thick, rock hard cock. She felt the same characteristic tingle again of an impending orgasm; it made her angry at herself, at her body that she would love it so much as to come again so soon and validate how you was fucking her. Jennie didn’t want to show you how much she enjoyed this, knowing it would only embolden you, but the bottom line was your cock and energy were just fantastic.

She grunted again and shuddered, body tightening up in pre-orgasmic tension, knowing you’d see it and just fuck harder. Absolutely correct, her body rocked harder as you shoved into her and pushed her down into the bed, pinning her legs back to her shoulders now as you leaned down on her heavily and thumped your hips into her to bury your cock over and over again into her hot, sweet pussy.

“Gonna come, Jennie?” you asked teasingly, smiling with smug satisfaction. She just turned her head away onto the bed as she blushed, feeling the heat in her cheeks to match the rush of sensations building from her G-spot as you fucked her. And you were fucking her, not making love to her or anything tender like that, pinning her on her back on the bed and slamming your thick cock into her like she needed. It only took another minute or so of that treatment, the shape and ridges of your thick head rubbing relentlessly over her most intimate spot to bring her to climax, making her tremble then shudder on the bed underneath.

You gave a contently laugh as you saw her quake in pleasure, whole body shaking as her eyes clenched shut and her fingernails dug into the bedding again as another orgasm hit her. It wasn’t as intense as it had been previously but it was still good, being fucked to climax was always something she enjoyed so it was all she wanted in that moment and you didn’t disappoint. As she came you fucked harder and faster, pounding her intensely for a few seconds as she wailed her pleasure to the motel room, clinging to the bed and pushing herself into you to take every possible inch of your cock as her body bucked and shook, abs clenching, jumping and shaking underneath your relentless thrusts as she gave in to another orgasm.

Unlike when you’d fucked her in the car in cramped doggy style, the squeezing and gripping of her pussy didn’t set your own climax off. You had more stamina than that, especially now after getting into it and simply fucked her through her orgasm then slowed as she couldn’t stand it any further, giving a final few thrusts and then stepping back to slowly, and teasingly slip your cock out of her until it jumped in front of her. Not that she could see it, her head still back into the bedding with her eyes closed as she took deep breaths in the wake of another hit of ecstasy.

That was until slapped her across the chest, your hand connecting with her perky breast to make it bounce and jiggle. Jennie’s eyes popped open as she gasped sharply as the sharp, completely unexpected pain shot through her, the sting spreading through her skin as it pimpled up and her nipple twisted up harder again. Her dark brown eyes fixed on you intently as she cried out harder in shock when you hit her from the other side, slapping her other breast to make it jiggle in turn as you struck her. She wanted to protest, to complain and tell you not to, how dare you treat her like that....but she didn’t. She couldn’t. It stung, the blows of your hands swatting at her gorgeous body as you were emboldened by her silence and started hitting her again.

The sting turned to pleasure and she shivered as her skin pricked across her body, hairs standing on end as she gave a deep, shuddering gasp, her eyes squeezing shut again as she embraced the different sensations of your hands slapping down onto her. Knowing she was enjoying it only made you smile and urged you to keep on, hitting her a bit harder, faster and more intently, your fingertips biting into her skin a little as you added a hint of pink to her skin. She shook on the bed as her nails dug into the sheets again as she let the intensity of it all wash over her, just breathing hard, hungrily in pleasure and pain, almost tempted to tell you to stop...but more tempted to beg you for more.

Men never treated her like this, your hands moving over her body as you expanded to slap down her sides and over her toned tummy. She tensed up from the bed as you did, reacting to the pain pulsing her mid-section as she twisted underneath you in ambivalent sensations that rushed through her. Your pace and speed picked up in a rush that made her not know where to turn, metaphorically speaking, until she let out a ragged cry of pain and shock as you reached up and slapped her across the face. She took a momentary shocked look at you then clenched her eyes shut again as you slapped her again, your energy lessened, being a bit more careful as you made her flinch.

“Just don’t leave any marks on me,” she gasped hurriedly as you paused for a moment. She didn’t take the chance to tell you to stop, to beg for mercy or complain it hurt. No, all she did was ask that you didn’t leave anything on her that she’d have to explain to the make-up girl the following day and essentially give you the green light to continue mistreating her. Jennie was rewarded with a harder slap to her face, wincing as another then another rained down on her then another, your hands picking up a rhythm to deliver a series of fast, increasingly harder slaps to her pretty face as she gasped and endured it.

When you stopped her cheeks were a healthy pink and her eyes were watering again, her ruined make-up running just a bit more over your handiwork as you leaned back up from her to leave her gasping and at your mercy beneath you. Her pussy was so wet that you could easily slide back inside her, something you took advantage of to make her inhale sharply as she felt your thick cock slip into her velvet folds once more. You drove full depth for a moment, giving her a few thrusts and then pulling back out again as she opened her eyes and leaned up, looking down to see you pull out of her as her chest heaved. She was caught off guard as you suddenly reached up and delivered a hard, final slap across her face, making her yell out as the pain really bit into her, tingle of pleasure gone as you caught her flush.

“I’m gonna fuck you in the ass now,” you said casually, standing up away from her and giving a slight stretch.

“What?” Jennie blurted out, unsure she’d heard you properly as the sting faded from her face, pushing her elbows into the mattress to lean up.

“Your ass, I’m gonna fuck it,” you reiterated, calm and clear so she was in no doubt. She wasn’t, and that was a problem; she didn’t like anal sex, she never had after trying it and finding it painful and uncomfortable, not to mention she hated giving up that much control in doing it.

“I don’t like anal sex,” she said quickly, “it hurts and just....I don’t,” she finished a little lamely.

“Well that’s too bad,” you replied with a slight shrug, her concerns dismissed as easily as that.

“Come on, do you have to?” She tried to convince you not to bother.

“Have to? No of course not,” you said, giving her a glimmer of hope, “But I want to,” you finished, crushing it.

“After the shit you gave me earlier, I deserve to, I’ve always wanted to,” you smiled, reaching out to play your fingers over her toes, tickling her playfully. She had nothing else to say, simply looking into your eyes and giving a small nod to submit to it, knowing you called the shots and was certainly good at that, having her under the thumb as you urged her to slide back up the bed, following her on as her feet retreated. You were fired up, in control and dominating her, getting everything you wanted as her resistance simply seemed to crumble away. The idol looked up at you with wide eyes, waiting for your next move as you smiled and grabbed her hips.

You threw her over onto her front, surprising her with your strength as you took control and easily turned her slight, slender figure over where you wanted her, grabbing her ass with a hard squeeze, spreading it apart to reveal her tight asshole and making her juicy pussy lips pry open just a little.

“Mm this is gonna be fun,” you murmured to yourself though she could hear it as your hands hooked under her pelvis to pull her back up on her knees into a perfect doggy style position for you to plunder her most secret, sensitive treasures. She didn’t resist, resigning herself to it now and knowing that without a doubt you were gonna fuck her in the ass; she’d never liked anal sex, having tried it and hated it, finding it painful and not in any way satisfying. The guys she’d tested it out with just treated her like a fuck toy which probably didn’t help and the second they felt her tight ass on their cock they lost all care for her wants or needs and had just gone straight at it way too hard and fast for her to handle, resulting in tears and complaints...and refusal to ever do it again. On top of that she hated giving up so much control, submitting completely for it and feeling so dominated, that was something she really didn’t like.

But here she was, about to get fucked in the ass again as you yanked her back into place and shoved down on her back to make her arch into the perfect, most vulnerable position. She was yours now and just took a deep breath, settling her knees into the bedding as you pulled up behind her, your cock sticking up rock hard as you relished the chance, spitting thickly into your hand and reaching down to rub it over her asshole as she twitched at the somewhat unexpected touch. You slicked what was left over the tip of your rock hard cock and then grabbed the base, thick dick surging in your hand as your other grabbed her hip to pull her back in place, pressing yourself to her. It was the moment of truth for Jennie, about to get fucked in the ass again for the first time in years.

You wasted no time on her, in charge and holding her still as you pushed against her tightest hole; it was a unique sensation and one she had no idea how to prepare for, having never really had any interest in doing so. Jennie tried her best as you pushed forward, willing herself to resist even as her body subconsciously tightened up to resist you, her asshole is tight and strong as you guided your cock and shoved forward to try and penetrate her. You slipped over her a few times, applying more energy and weight to her as your cock took advantage of a brief lapse in her resistance and spread her asshole to drive in.

Jennie let out a cry and yanked forwards, pulling out of your grasp before you even got inside her, the stretch of her sphincter sending a sharp bolt of pain through her and making her instinctively get away from it, rocking forward on her knees so your cock slipped back out. You gave her a moment then pulled her back up into position, hand hooked under her pelvis to try and keep a more commanding hold of her.

“You need to relax,” you said, your only guidance throughout this. If it hurt it was her problem and you really could only do so much but didn’t want her to dislike it, after all it was only a positive if she enjoyed it. You just wanted to experience her tight asshole stretched around your cock and plunder her ass on this, your one opportunity to have at Jennie Kim. She settled herself again as you took aim and pushed at her once more, your tip working into the muscular ring of her asshole and pressing against her resistance again, ready to squeeze yourself inside. Your hand pulled hard into her hips as you shoved forwards, leaning over her this time as you forced your cock down into her asshole, catching her a little by surprise somehow and getting the jump on her muscles to pop your cock inside her. Your bulbous head popped inside her, breaking through her tightest resistance to jerk blissfully inside her, loving how it felt around your cock head, tingling your nerves perfectly as she clenched on you.

That was the peak of it however as she yanked forward again, her strength surprising as she pulled out of your grip once more and off your cock, making it spring out of her once more as she dipped towards the bed and clenched with a near howl of pain at her ring being forced open so abruptly again. You surged over her, energy wasted as you gave a growl of frustration, Jennie burying her face in the bedding as she winced at the sharp, intense pain hitting her.

“Fucks sake,” you snapped, leaning up then reaching out and laying a hard smack straight on her ass, making her clench and scream in pain, your fingers flexing to deliver every bit of power into small, intent points of pressure. It was frustrations boiling over a little, knowing she could do this if she let herself.

“Behave, Jennie, you can do this,” you said authoritatively, angry but in charge, cooling yourself as you dominated her, just knowing that she’d respond even if she didn’t love it. Your hands grabbed her again and yanked her back, harder and more focused than before, making clear that you wouldn’t stand for her playing up any more. You meant it too, holding her so hard it almost hurt as your fingers dug into her tanned skin where you supported her, in total control of her as you positioned yourself again. You didn’t lube her any more, figuring she didn’t deserve it now as you guided your throbbing cock into position and leaned over her once more, intent on getting on with it now.

“Now hold still, just take it in,” you commanded but in a softer tone, holding her still and pressing your bulging head against her asshole, still rock hard despite the delays. You would not be denied the tight pleasure of her booty and with that eased forward slowly but powerfully to split her open, pressure building against her tight ring of muscle until you suddenly slipped in and she grunted as you were greeted by the hot, wet sensation of her pussy around you where you’d slid down into her. You pulled back, aiming yourself again and stabilising yourself more, hand right near your tip as you guided yourself to press hard at her ass, inexorably building until you felt her yielding and in a slow motion moment felt her stretch tightly around you, forced open reluctantly by your throbbing head as you broke her strength and entered her slowly.

You growled in pleasure, shivering at the ultra tight sensations of her wrapped around you as Jennie gave a muffled protest, body tensing in pain as it twinged through her intently and made her heart race. Tears pricked her eyes as the pain shuddered through her, lasting and not immediately subsiding as she felt pulse your cock, the hardest you’d ever been it seemed as you relished the moment. Your hand was still at her hip, holding her tightly in place so she couldn’t escape as you made no offer of pulling back or giving her a break, instead letting her grab a single breath before pushing your weight down onto her and squeezing the rest of your cock into her ass in a long, continuous push until be buried yourself balls deep inside her while her restrained complaint became a cry of pain.

You relished the moment of getting to press your hips against her ass, feeling the pained spasm of her sphincter around your shaft as she struggled to deal with, her breaths hard and fast as she fought the pain. Ignoring it, you held her hips tightly lest she escaped and pulled back to start thrusting into her, drawing your cock back full length and then shoving it roughly inside her again, wasting no time with slow, steady thrusts to get her going and instead just going for it, pursuing your pleasure. You knew she didn’t like it, she couldn’t relax and just give it a go, but couldn’t help the fact you did, shoving deeply into her again as she grunted in pain and flinched again.

“Fuck, gimme a break,” she whined, eyes squeezed shut as a tear slid down her cheek, wishing she could relax but her body was just so tight that in that moment she had to endure as you held her like you owned her and pumped your hips against her ass to bury your full length inside her again and again. Every pull back let your thick head just bulge her asshole a little, making her body instinctively clench again, sending the pain back through her once more and just giving every bit of pleasure you wanted at her tightest hole. She felt fantastic and the fact she was hating it, as she’d said she would, somehow made it hotter in a way and only spurred you on to fuck her harder, faster, more intently, more ferociously.

She could only complain more as you did just that, picking up the pace, slamming her harder so she rocked on the bed and had to brace herself into the covers. Jennie couldn’t believe she’d got into this situation frankly, down on her knees in a crappy motel, head buried in the sheets as a guy shoved his cock up her ass much to her dismay. It wasn’t even like you were a producer or director, somebody that she might be sleeping with to advance her career or get ahead, it was just her driver, the guy that literally just drove her to set every day and then back to her own room at this piss poor place to stay. Instead she was in your room, with your cock up her ass.

And her pussy was dripping; she was the wettest she’d been in years and frankly was afraid it would drip on the bed, her body so turned on despite her pain that if you wanted, she was sure you could easily bury four fingers inside her. It made her both hugely turned on and utterly humiliated, that something she hated so much just made her pussy so wet, so ready, her clit rock hard in arousal at your vicious penetration of her asshole. Your balls compressed against her pussy with every thrust, her juices coating your cock to give her away and exactly how much her body was enjoying this, this domination, this utter ownership she was giving in as you fucked her in the ass for the first time in years.

She would be angry and deep down she was -- at herself. Jennie knew she had instigated this even if she’d never expected it to go so far; she had given you the invitation, goading and taunting you into fucking her, quite literally inviting only for you to take it and give her one of the roughest, hardest fucks she’d ever had and that she hadn’t realised she’d needed. From there out you’d taken control and that was how she’d found herself here, her protests falling hopelessly on deaf ears as you’d taken her to task and got her into this position. And worse still she loved it, absolutely relishing the way you were just fucking her as your plaything, having complete control of her as you could cause a lot of problems if she didn’t play along. That was merely a sideshow now as frankly she didn’t want you to stop, even if she hated admitting that.

She’d given herself to you on a silver platter and you were loving every bite, getting a most primal go at your boss and you weren’t wasting a moment of it. Your fingers dug into her supple flesh, flexing your cock as your heart pumped hard, slamming your hips forward again and again to drive your manhood inside the prone idol. It shoved a deep, guttural cry of pain from her every time you slammed against her, her ass jiggling perfectly as you gave her every inch of yourself, stretching her out a little bit more than she could handle every time to make her twinge in pain. You just murmured with pleasure, smiling down as sweat prickled all over her, her head buried in the bedding.

You loved how taut her muscles were, fingers dug into the cloth as she braced herself, forehead pressed hard into it as she tried to absorb it. The strangely pleasurable sensations of anal sex were getting through to her now, something she’d rarely experienced in the past before she’d pulled the plug, but they were still accompanied by pain that electrified her body with every, faster, hungrier, more intense thrust into her. She was managing to relax herself somewhat however and that only made things better, giving a mumble of near pleasure that made you hard as rock, feeling your cock strain inside her as you heard it. Jennie immediately blushed, not that you could see it, chastising herself for enjoying it at all but worse letting you see that she was. She was adamant she hated this and to let herself tremble with pleasure from it, even for a moment, would only encourage you to fuck her harder.

You hardly needed encouragement though as your own pleasure drove to do just that, loving how you could just rock her hips back as you worked your own to plunge the full depth of yourself into her, thick cock just plunging into her overwhelmed, defeated asshole. Rocking her in unison with your rhythm helped up the pace whilst keeping your length in full use, the best of both worlds as to let your head strain her hole still, making it bulge before you buried yourself again. You tried that a little too vigorously on one stroke however and popped out of her, sliding up over her ass as she gave a gasp to match your own, the sensation unexpected. Jennie felt empty, out of sync and then utterly degraded as you took a moment to grab her ass and spread it wide, making her exhausted, loosened asshole gape wide open.

“Fuck, look at that,” you breathed, in both wonder and arousal, loving how she’d gone from an uptight, resisting attitude to now having her hole gaped completely. Jennie felt the blood rush to her face, angry and embarrassed as you held her open, giving a token squeeze to try and clench her asshole shut but even she felt the futility of it, her tired muscles barely managing it before it sagged wide again. You just laughed smuttily to yourself, loving having her like this as you grabbed your cock and aimed it again, pushing inside her with barely any resistance from her as she stretched out and let you plunge deeply into her ass again. On the plus side, it barely hurt now, ass warmed up and taking it even if she’d never wanted that.

You held her hips firmly and fucked hard, knowing she wouldn’t try and escape now, her will and resistance broken as you pumped your cock in and out of her ass as she hated herself for feeling a bit of enjoyment. Having made a fuss about it, she couldn’t now admit she was liking it or ask you not to stop, that would just be shame she couldn’t stand. Besides, she was pretty sure you knew with how wet her pussy was. You were well aware and it only spurred to keep fucking her hard and fast, rocking her body perfectly in rhythm with yours as if you two been screwing for years, cock plunging deep inside her, feeling her heat and the delectable sensations around every nerve ending on your cock. It was hot, but you wanted to see her work for it and with that you leaned back and pulled her as she gave a mumble of confusion.

“Come on, you’re gonna ride this cock,” you said, leaning back and pulling her on top of your hips, sliding deep inside her as she sat back on you a little awkwardly while you kicked your legs out under her to stretch on the bed. She mumbled and shifted around with difficulty, fumbling to get her feet out from under her and position her knees properly so she could ride as she was ordered to While your hands pinned her ass down on you so she couldn’t escape. Jennie shoved her hands down on top of your knees and steadied herself then with an unsure, testing movement rocked her hips and lifted up a little to slide your cock in and out of her ass, pressing her firm booty back down as you smiled in pleasure.

“Yeah that’s it,” you murmured, watching her lovely figure as she got started, holding her hips more commandingly than physically, hands just letting her know you are in control more than anything else. Feeling it out, Jennie rocked up and down carefully, just taking in the different penetration of your cock in her ass, the angle and aim changed, stimulations different as she rocked on you. Getting more confident of where you were and realizing she could still feel your bulging head as it tugged at her asshole, she started riding a bit harder and longer, working her sphincter up and down your cock as it clung tightly. You were pleased as she got into it more, breathing intently, focused on her task as she pushed up onto her knees and rested her hands on her own thighs to change the angle and let her push down into you much more effectively.

“Yeah that’s good,” you groaned, loving the suddenly more intent, stimulating push down of her onto your cock, her ass squeezing around you as she drove down and got full depth. She didn’t complain at the pain or anything now, having subsided and despite the general lack of lube she was finding it pretty easy to work herself up and down, her muscles having long since given up the fight, stretched and exhausted. It was then that she looked up into the room more, taking in things as she rode you and realized she could see herself pretty clearly in the mirror of the bathroom where you’d left the light on. She could see her slender, sweat-pricked body as she rocked up and down, her face streaked with dark tears from her eye make-up, firm breasts with hard nipples topping them above her toned abs as she worked on your cock.

Jennie hated seeing it, seeing herself working to pleasure and to please you, thighs tight as she pumped her ass up and down on your cock, to let you enjoy anal sex with her. She couldn’t tear her gaze away instantly and just watched herself riding it, shoving herself down harder, faster, more intently as if to punish herself as she stared into her own eyes; she hated doing this even if it didn’t hurt now, hated it even more that she was kind of enjoying it now and wasn’t only doing it for you now, she knew she was doing it for her and that stung her even worse. Her face flushed as her cheeks burned with her embarrassment and anger at herself, spurring her however to thrust down hard and faster into you as she felt your fingers at her hips and heard a grunt of pleasure.

“Mm fuck, just like that,” you growled, loving her energy as she worked at you, finally averting her eyes from her gaze and looking down at the bed, at her fingers as they strained on her thighs to brace herself and allow her to work harder at your cock. Regardless of the fact she hated what she was doing and how she’d got herself into this position, she couldn’t deny it felt good; her nipples were tight and her clit was throbbing in need, pussy still dripping wet and just waiting for stimulation. She couldn’t resist and pulled her hand up to her crotch, letting her fingertips play over her mound for a moment before she pushed it confidently down over her lips and let her middle digit drive straight down over exactly where it needed to be.

Her shudder and groan was like heaven to you, watching Jennie Kim shake in pleasure at the mere touch of her clit as she rode your cock, taking in her slender back and gorgeous ass as her strong, toned thighs pushed her up and down to work you into her booty. You loved the sight of your cock disappearing into her ass, her tight ring hugging it before it disappeared from view as she sat down on you every time. Your hands merely followed and caressed her now as she got into it, her fingers getting moving as her rhythm picked up again, riding you just as hard as her digits started to circle her clit. Jennie grunted in pleasure, her asshole twitching and grabbing at you to slow her just a little bit as she just instinctively got into her, seeming to know exactly what she was doing and how to co-ordinate herself as her fingers started to dance.

You just laid back to enjoy as the idol got into it, seeing her glance up to herself in the mirror as she did; Jennie took herself in, knelt over hip and reciprocating her hips as she drove your thick cock into her ass, feeling your bulging head delving deep inside her as her fingers worked fairly furiously at her clit, unable to help herself and chasing the pleasure it brought. Her ass was squeezing and gripping at you like she hadn’t before as she throbbed and mumbled in pleasure, her breathing harder, faster, more insistent as the pleasure flooded through her quickly. She hadn’t realized how hot and horny she was, not directly at least, somewhat unsure, almost hoping that her dripping pussy didn’t mean she was loving getting fucked in the ass as much as she feared she was. Touching her clit had answered that question in a single stroke and only spurred her to chase more of it, looking at herself in the mirror as she rubbed intently and thumped her body down into you.

“Fuck that’s it, don’t stop,” you smiled, loving how the famous idol was just losing herself to it and giving you all her energy now. She just moaned a non-committal response as she practically ignored your thick, hard erection buried in her ass as she bounced up and down and rubbed furiously at her pussy. Her fingers wasted no time with anything but her clit, circling around it and strumming across it, working in the most direct way she knew, the way she got herself off when she didn’t have time for sex with her fiancé and just wanted release. Your hands pulled at her hips and laid token spanks on her ass as she went at it, just enthralled at her change to going for it and forgetting her protests as she rode hard and frigged herself for all she was worth.

Hard breaths and the sound of her booty driving against your cock was all that broke the silence of the motel room for a minute as she wound herself up, orgasm not taking long to achieve in the heat of it all. She stole a last glance at herself and scolded herself for being such a whore, getting fucked in the ass and rubbing her clit to it but soon looked away and focused on what she was doing. With a few more seconds of stimulation that seemed to stretch on way longer, she gave a shake, tensing up as she held back her climax as it rushed up on her, sharp and intense, much like the fuck she was taking and she gave several hard, short thrusts to bury your cock as deep in her ass as she could while her finger went mad on her delicate clit.

She wailed loudly as she hit her peak, suddenly erupting as she shook and collapsed as the strength in her legs failed, burying your cock deep as she shuddered violently, her hips bucking and shoving forwards, ass squeezing intently at your cock to make you throb as she quaked. Her fingers never stopped throughout, just cranking every last drop of her climax as her eyes squeezed shut and her breath caught in her throat, her orgasm just hitting her so much harder than she expected and making her grind down into the pleasure of it with everything she had. You just held her hips as she rocked on you, immensely turned on to see her come with your cock in her ass like this when she’d protested over it initially.

“Fuck…” she mumbled, a small admission to how incredible it’d felt to reach her peak as it ended, her fingers stopping on her clit even as she wished she could continue, too delicate in the wake of it as she rocked her hips and squeezed her ass a little before trying to keep riding your cock. Her legs were weak, shaky, unable to commit strength as she tried to push up and only achieved weak, uncoordinated motions, struggling to catch her breath and get back to it like she knew you wanted. All you wanted was for her to stimulate your cock hard and fast like she had been; watching her ride then come furiously all over was one of the hottest things you’d ever seen and your cock still rock hard and ready to pump her to the finish now.

With a sharp push you lifted yourself off the bed and rolled her over, Jennie giving a cry of surprise as you surged beneath her and flipped her onto her front, pinning her down on the bed and burying your cock deeper than it had ever been. She flinched and blurted out an expression of pain as you pinned her down, taking complete control of her again, dominating her tired form as you shoved your hands down on her shoulders to shove her into the bedding. Wasting no time, you started to pump your hips and slam down into her with intent and purpose, your cock throbbing hard in pre-orgasmic bliss thanks to her erotic ride moments before.

You held her down, ignoring her muffled complaints as you slammed into her ass harder than she’d ever experienced and took every bit of pleasure her clenching, overwhelmed asshole had to offer as your cock slid in and out of her in a blur. Strokes were short and sharp, pounding down into her with just a couple of inches of your manhood as you chased your pleasure now, wanting to completely overwhelm and exhaust her in the process. You had no problem doing just that as the gasping idol couldn’t keep up, slumped on the bed underneath with her fingers dug into the bed at her sides as you fucked her now, just being your submissive fuckdoll in your final seconds of smashing your cock into her gorgeous body.

Jennie just whined in pain and pleasure as you hammered down into her, your cock rock hard, the stiffest she’d felt it as you pounded her hard and slapped your hips into her ass with an intensity she’d not felt in years. No guy had fucked her so hard or with such abandon in so long that it was almost like a new experience again and she could only cling to the bed and groan, grunt and gasp her way to your completion. Your cock strained harder, flexing in a familiar way that told you the end was close as you thumped against her, spurring you to find a final gear that meant you slammed your cock into her clenching, tired ass as hard and fast as you could, somehow stepping up from your already intense pace that that was making her whine and pushed a strained, struggled noise from her.

You absolutely pounded on her, hips slapping into her ass as you tried to bury her into the mattress for a few seconds before she felt a characteristic pulse and knew it was over -- only to be shocked and thrown for a loop as you suddenly yanked out of her and jumped up with energy she’d never had expected. Jennie gasped and whimpered desperately, hungrily for your cock in her ass, squeezing and clenching at nothing as you suddenly moved over her, completely lost as you withdrew and looking up to see where you were. It only gave you the perfect position to grab her head, fingers twisting into her hair to yank her purposefully to you and straight onto your cock, forcing it deep into her throat before she could react, only time left to choke and gag.

It was the first time she had ever done ass to mouth and she heaved, gagging deeply in shock and thought of it, tasting herself as you shoved your thick cock as deep into her throat as you could manage. With her overwhelmed by it all she couldn’t get a handle on it and it left her vulnerable to your thrusts which you took advantage of with abandon, holding her head tightly and thrusting your cock hard into her throat, loving how she struggled and gagged. The tightening around your cock was simply heaven, a cherry on top after plundering her tight asshole, not that it was as tight after your efforts and now you just wanted your finish. Pumping hard into her mouth as she gagged, choked and coughed, body heaving as she grimaced at her first ass-to-mouth, absolutely hating that you’d made her do it while your cock throbbed on her tongue.

Jennie had no chance to complain however as you gave her no opportunity, giving a final shove deep into her throat so her nose pressed into you and then yanking back out of her sharply. She coughed on the withdraw and was just drawing her breath as you jerked your cock ferociously, on the brink and taking just a couple of seconds to stimulate your cock on the brink as you aimed it at her face. You yanked her head into place and held her with her hair as she gave a yelp of pain, barely registering what you were doing in time to squeeze her eyes shut for your first hot, thick spurt to hit her across the nose. You let out a huge groan of pleasure, of release and ecstasy as you jerked your hard cock to explode repeatedly over her pretty face, Jennie wincing and growling in distaste as your viscous eruptions burst over her to hit her forehead, cheeks, eyes and lips as you emptied your balls powerfully onto her.

“Fuuuck” you breathed, heart pounding and your legs shaking as you worked the last of your load out and wiped it over her puffy, bee stung lips to her displeasure, giving a final clench and then sagging back on your knees, releasing her so her head dropped. She caught herself before she hit the bed and made a mess, pulling her head up and opening one eye, all she could manage, as you turned and sat back onto the bed. You breathed hard and let the relief and pleasure hit, tingling through you as the gorgeous idol pushed up to sit on the side of the bed as she grabbed for some tissues on the side table. Jennie fumbled with a handful and shoved them to her face, soaking up your load as it started to run down her face and mix with her ruined make-up, wiping it out of her eye then off her lips.

“Fuck that was good,” you murmured, sagging back onto the bed.

“Hope you got what you wanted,” she mumbled, not wanting to acknowledge quite how much she’d enjoyed it.

“Not entirely,” you replied, making her to look at you indignantly.

“Not entirely?” she questioned, angry in that moment and figuring surely you’d had your fill of her.

“No, we’ll fuck again in the morning. Go get cleaned up, we need some sleep,” you said with a cheeky wink, slumping back onto the bed as she glared at you, unnoticed, before standing up and stalking awkwardly to the bathroom to wash her face. A splash with cold water made her feel fresher, relieving her sweaty, come-splattered face though her ass ached like she’d never felt before, figuring it was how it felt to get properly fucked in the ass. By the time she walked back into the bedroom you were already under the sheets and dozing off, leaving Jennie little choice but to slide in next to you. She was rewarded with a cuddle, being drawn under your arm as she got in before falling asleep far easier than she expected.

—

The night flew by in relaxed, sated sleep for both of you, Jennie awakening and wondering initially where she was, not recognizing the room entirely. It was similarly decorated but not the same as her own room and that just took her a second to remember exactly where she was and how she’d got there. She was also reminded as she moved and immediately felt a twinge from her ass, sphincter giving her a wakeup call to bring back all the memories from exactly what she’d done the night before, her pussy aching as well from how hard you’d pounded her. It was a while since she’d woken up like this, feeling the after effects of an intense fucking the night before and it was a sensation she missed, wishing she could feel it more often as you stirred beside her and woke up, rolling over to her.

“Good morning, Jennie,” you said with a smile.

“Morning,” she replied a little unsure of herself in that moment, “and that’s boss to you,” she added, wanting to take control again.

“Not yet it isn’t,” you answered, immediately quashing her intention to take charge somewhat as you rolled to her and slid your hand over her hip, up her tummy to squeeze her breast as she gasped. You were exactly the same with her as you’d been the night before, interested in only one thing from her and she responded, shivering a little as she secretly had to admit to herself that she loved how you treated her. You weren’t wasting any time and only wanted to fuck her, which was flattering in its own way even if she shouldn’t have liked it.

“Already hard,” she murmured with a smile as she felt you push your erection against her, nestling it in her ass as your hand squeezed her chest, your teeth biting down into her shoulder as she shivered and gave in to how turned on her was making her, pussy already wet and waiting for you.

“Of course, got to enjoy every minute of this,” you replied quietly, hand pushing over her toned tummy to tease at her near-smooth labia.

“Before I become your boss again,” she breathed, somehow wanting to remind you of the fact that she was in charge of you usually and that this was a one-off opportunity you’d cultivated for yourself.

“You’ll be the boss again when I let you,” you growled playfully, making her gasp as your hand connected with her ass for a firm, meaningful slap that tingled her and only turned her on more.

“So boss me around,” she breathed, quietly, almost not letting the whisper escape her mouth, not wanting to let you hear it. She knew you had though as you swiftly reached up and grabbed her throat, giving a squeeze that made her breath catch momentarily before you released her, Jennie shuddering hard as a tingle raced through her body, your hands at her hips now as you threw the covers off and rolled her back over towards you. You grabbed her wrist and directed her hand onto your thick, throbbing cock which she immediately gripped and started stroking, being your obedient little fucktoy without hesitation as grabbed her tits again hard to make her wince before you lay back.

“Ride,” you commanded, already urging her as she started to move. The idol pushed up from the bed to immediately obey, getting her knees under her and throwing her leg over to mount you and get in position, pressing her delightfully hot pussy down into your throbbing cock. You let her do her thing as she reached down for your cock and held it up as she rocked her pelvis forward in readiness. Jennie slowly let herself down and teased the tip of your cock over herself, spreading her abundant juices around it before she let herself sink down steadily to ease her inside and let your size spread and stretch her aching pussy.

You bulged out her velvet walls as she sank down, giving a groan as she descended and felt the blissful sensation of your cock inside her once more -- she couldn’t deny she liked it. Jennie let herself push down to take your cock all the way in with a single stroke, pushing herself the last couple of inches to make her vagina open up fully, wanting to feel every bit of it, flexing hard inside her as you felt her love tunnel envelope before clamping down, loving the feel of how her pussy gripped your cock. Her murmurs of pleasure only turned you on more and you watched as she started to ride, slowly lifting up then sinking down again, taking it fully as she pulled right up until it almost popped out of her before driving into you to grind her clit against you, eyes closing in pleasure as she got into her steady rhythm.

“Faster, come on, ride it,” you commanded, slapping the side of her ass to spur her on, breaking her concentration for a moment and making her motions stutter before she composed herself and resumed harder and faster. She started pumping her hips down into you with an intensity and pace that you relished, stimulating your cock perfectly for a morning fuck as her gorgeous, snug pussy fit around you perfectly. Jennie leaned down onto your shoulders, her eyes shut with a look of concentration on her face as she worked her hips, her abs tightening and tensing as she rolled her hips and thrust down to take every inch of your cock inside her with quicker strokes. She was lost to the pleasure of it all as she rode it firmly, right up until her phone started ringing and shattered her focus. You both ignored it initially, then it rang again, causing Jennie to lean over and see who it was.

“It’s my producer,” she said, looking back down at you underneath her, her pace slowing for a moment as your hands held her hips.

“So?” you replied.

“It’s probably important, he never usually calls me in the morning,” she said.

“So answer it,” you replied with a smile.

“What? Like this?” she said, looking back down at you with wide eyes.

“Sure, why not?” you teased, when it was obvious why not.

“I’ve never answered the phone in the middle of sex before,” she said as it stopped ringing again, only to start ringing again almost immediately.

“Seems like he really wants you,” you said, working your hips to pump up to meet Jennie as she continued to fuck, riding you on autopilot.

“You gonna stop so I can answer this?” she asked.

“Not on your life,” you said, gripping her hips tightly and pulling her down harder, making it clear she was going to fuck you till it was done right now.

“...Fuck,” she said, holding the phone up and knowing she was going to have to answer it.

“It’s a video call,” she said, only making you laugh somewhat as she swept her hair back and tried to make herself look vaguely presentable.

“Don’t do anything, this is serious,” she chastised you, squeezing her pussy and riding in short strokes to minimize her movements as she took a deep breath and answered the phone.

“Good morning,” she said clearly, her practiced, PR friendly voice on point.

“Good morning, Jennie,” said her producer, unseen by you as Jennie rode you with her phone turned the other way, doing her best not to make her movements visible on the call.

“What’s going on?” she questioned, wanting to cut straight to the point and keep this quick.

“Just wanted a quick check in, I heard there were problems on set yesterday, not the smooth kind of process we’re looking for,” he said to her.

“Yeah there were some disagreements,” she replied tersely, remembering how it had upset her...and led her to make the mistake that brought her onto her drivers cock.

“Well that’s not great, Jen,” he said, giving her a look of somewhat disappointment, “we really need to keep things going well, is there anything up?” he added.

“No no, it’s just a blip,” she replied quickly, stifling a mumble of pleasure and shivering a little as she pushed up to slow her riding, needing to stop before she gave herself away. She’d never done this, not to anybody, and to do it in front of her producers was scary but exhilarating. She knew she had to remain composed and not give away what she was doing, not that there was anything wrong with it per se but she simply couldn’t afford to let anybody else know she was stepping out on her fiancé.

“Are you alright, Jen? You seem flushed,” her producer asked, seeing her skin tone on the camera even with the half light of the motel room she was in.

“Yeah yeah I’m fine,” she said. At that moment you grabbed hold of her hips and shoved yourself upward to make her quake, barely suppressing a grunt as the stab of pleasure passed through her before you began to pound. You arched your body up, You arched your body up, heels dug into the mattress as you energized yourself, and slammed your hips up into hers, almost hanging from her hips, leaving her nowhere to go. Jennie felt the tingle and buzz go through her as she was fucked hard and faster, losing her composure and shuddering, fumbling the phone and struggling to hold onto it.

“You don’t look like it, want me to send someone over to check you out?” he offered, meaning some sort of medic that they had on the team.

“No no, it’s just a bad connection,” she said, carefully but jerkily getting her thumb over the camera to block it out as she tried to slowly let out a breath and not focus on the sensations of your cock slamming into her.

“The camera’s gone off, are you there?” he replied, giving her the perfect out as she quickly pretended the signal had dropped.

“Hello? Are you still there?” she asked, waiting a few seconds as he tried to get her to answer, trying to add to it with a couple of hammed-up crackling sounds before she hit the button the hang up and threw her phone aside.

“Fuck you,” she breathed with a small laugh as she sank back down into you, shoving her hands back into your shoulders as your pulled up around the small of her back, pulling her down deeply into you as she focused all her concentration on your cock, started fucking it hard again. Her body rocked perfectly to slide you in and out of her juicy snatch, squeezing and clenching as she did, loving the way your cock pulsed inside her as you worked to pump your hips up into her and make her take every possible inch. Her phone rang again but she ignored it, no intention of answering it again as she hoped it hadn’t in any way been possible to tell what she was really doing. It was then that she looked at the clock and began, realizing how short we had on time and how if we didn’t finish this quickly, we’d be late for the set.

“Shit, we’ve got to get going,” she exclaimed, looking from the clock back at you.

“We’re not done yet,” you said. Not a protest, a simple statement that reminded her she wasn’t going anywhere until we were done fucking.

“But we’ll be late. Do you want someone to find out about this, really?” she asked, making a good point that suggested blowing this would likely not work out well for both of you.

“No, I don’t,” you said.

“Then let’s go,” she replied.

“We’re not done. How about a shower? We’ll finish up in there as we get ready,” you said, seeming so cool and calm, full of useful and straight forward plans in that moment. Jennie looked back to the clock, then at you.

“Deal, come on,” she said, hopping off you as you released her hips and heading straight for the bathroom. You followed and enjoyed watching her firm ass jiggle as she dashed ahead of you and turned the shower on. The hot water cascaded down and she slipped into it, sighing in pleasure as the spray hit her feminine curves before you followed her in, hands sliding round her and squeezing at her breasts, pushing down her sides as she shoved back into your erection, ready for it to be inside her again. She wanted to enjoy the fuck but time was against it and she cared more about getting busted.

“Put it in,” she whispered, leaning against the wall and shoving her ass back in the most deliberate invitation you’d ever seen. And it was irresistible.

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” you smiled as you grabbed your cock and stepped in to her, easily sliding to her pussy between her spread legs, arched back pushing it out ready for you to effortlessly slip into. Just a light push and you inside her, both groaning again as her velvet tunnel glided over the thick contours of your rock hard cock, your hands going to her hips to take a tight grip as you buried yourself inside her and then started to thrust. You worked your cock in and out of her, resuming the pace we’d had on the bed as we both got into it, Jennie shifting a bit and sinking lower, pushing her feet as wide as the shower tray would let her as you widened your stance to give yourself maximum stability.

“Come on fuck me, fuck me!” she said, louder than she intended to as she invited you to get on with it. You ignored her somewhat taking charge and simply dug your fingers into her flesh as you started to thrust, immediately shoving her forwards, seeing her muscles tighten as she braced herself against the tiles and pushed back against yours as you slammed your hips forward. We both groaned, Jennie harder than you as you started to fuck her hard and fast, pounding her with one intent now and that was completion and pleasure.

Your fingers were white with the pressure as you held her slippery body, hot water crashing down over us as you fucked her with hard, fast strokes. Your motions were short and intense, body slapping noisily against her booty as she jiggled in front of you, the idol just bracing herself and shoving back into you as the stimulation of being fucked from behind got to us both. It was so much more intense, hitting more nerve endings and doing the business for both of us when we’d already comprehensively warmed up with her riding on the bed. Your cock shoved deeply into her pussy, across the front wall of her vagina and her G-spot in a perfect manner, sending those deep, soulful tingles through her that she knew was a one way ticket.

Your hand slid up into her long, dark hair and grabbed a handful, yanking back to make her gasp gutturally, feeling a rush go through her, a tingle then quakes of pre-orgasmic tension, just letting it all hit her as you got her to the finish. You weren’t far off yourself, your cock tingling and throbbing with every stroke of it into her gorgeous body, holding yourself back and focusing on getting her to the orgasm that was obviously on the brink. You were relieved when, after a few more seconds of thrusting, she shuddered violently and gasped hard, accelerating breaths before letting out a wail of pleasure as she came.

The orgasm hit her fast and she almost slipped, her foot losing grip on the wet floor of the shower as she trembled in pleasure, ecstasy washing over her as she shook and tingled all over, goosepimples spreading across her gorgeous body despite the hot spray of the shower cascading down over her. The clamping down of her pussy around your cock and the mental box checked meant your own climax followed swiftly on with a buck of your cock as you swelled rock hard. Jennie was treated to a few hard thrusts to amplify her own climax before she moaned in satisfaction as you jumped and unloaded inside of her, growling your pleasure in her ear as you shoved her forwards against the tiles and buried yourself deeply to empty every drop of your cum inside her.

She loved that you’d come inside her again, especially right before she went to work as she knew it’d be a naughty secret to feel your creampie leak out of her during the day. You slid back out of her, and she stood up, turning into your arms and meeting you for a deep, somewhat intimate kiss that felt so much more than what had come before.

And then it was over. You stepped back and got out of the shower, grabbing a towel and getting ready, leaving her to do the same. Jennie watched you leave then took charge of herself, knowing this incident was over and gave herself a quick wash down in the shower before following you out.

The next half an hour or so was hurried preparation to leave, neither one of us speaking as she got ready, taking much longer than you as she quickly dried and dressed, trying to dry her hair out and touch up a bit of make-up before we had to get a move on, time running out as she knew we had to get to set. She was rather embarrassed now, feeling awkward like she might after a one night stand, but also felt the most sexually satisfaction she had in months. It was a double edged sword she supposed.

With her dignity and attitude completely gone, our relationship having done a complete 180 in the last 12 hours or so, she headed down to the car with you and slid into the passenger seat as she usually did to let you drive her to work. She was the boss again now, but she didn’t feel like it. You made good time, stepping on it a bit to get her on set in time so nothing looked amiss apart from the slightly bedraggled way she turned up on set, not that it mattered as she went straight into make-up to get tidied up for the days shooting.

The day went smoothly on set as she kept her head down and quietly got on with it, working well with the director to contrast with the previous days conflict, being cheerful and productive in a way that got everything done on time with no snags. Out of her earshot, the director flippantly commented to that perhaps she got fucked properly the previous night; he had no idea how right he was. Jennie just felt calm and relaxed, though she blushed when she saw her driver odd times during the day, thinking back to everything that had happened between us. You’d completely taken advantage of the situation she’d inadvertently created and she’d loved it, just relishing how you’d treated her as she turned it over and over in her mind.

And she wanted it again.

There was no denying it, she needed it, lusted for it and was absolutely sure you would happily deliver. With that she steeled her mind to get it and thought about what she would do for you when her day in front of the camera was over. The rest of the shots went easily, no problems at all when she was just on autopilot and let herself be ordered around, something of a hangover of the night before which she’d relished. Due to the efficiency they managed, they were actually finished around an hour early, with the director wrapping for the day and telling them they could all go and have a break as the next shots relied on brighter weather and the encroaching darkness was no use to them. Jennie gave her goodbyes and then headed for the wardrobe trailer to make a change.

You were waiting by the car as Jennie approached you, her long coat hiding her body as she smiled at you...then got into the back seat. You were curious as she hadn’t done that since our first week together, hopping in behind the wheel and starting the engine as you looked back at her in the mirror. She stared at you as she took her coat off to reveal a short, tight dress that hugged her curves and barely made it onto her thighs, tits pushed up so they almost spilled out of it. Throwing her coat aside she spread her legs and lifted them a little so you got a glance up her skirt, seeing the see through panties that completely showed her off, her near-bald pussy that was all yours. You took your time checking her out, knowing she was there for you to look at as you took her in, along with her naughty smile.

“You’re checking me out again,” she murmured.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, pulling away and managing to drive smoothly even as you stared at her in the mirror.

“Good,” she smiled, flicking her tongue. You accelerated away down the road, heading back for our motel once again, less than a whole day since everything had happened between us.

“I want you to fuck me hard again tonight,” she said quietly, meaningfully, the weight of her words clear. She wanted a repeat performance and probably plenty more, knowing you wouldn’t talk and as long as she was covert, she could have her cake and eat it.

“No problem, boss,” you said with a smile and flick of your eyebrows, playing to the fact she technically was, but it was clear she was giving you control out of hours now.

“Good, so whenever there’s a good place to pull over, you know,” she said, reclining back into the seat, relaxing as she told you clearly she wanted an exact rerun of the day before.

“Absolutely,” you replied, smiling to yourself as you focused on the road and pressed the throttle, cock already hardening. After all, you weren’t going to disappoint your boss.

[cosmique-oddity]

Phew, my last weeks of work are now complete >:)

I loved Dratchet and Ratchlock since the very beginning of my attachment towards Transformers, first TFP Ratchet…..but yeah….two of my favorites character….plus Keferon’s Mech AU…..I had to make my own thing about it.

A story….no…an illustration ! I couldn’t choose. So I did both :}

—————————————————

That was not the first time Ratchet came back to his private lab angry, but this time, yelling at his superiors, and at the system, and basically at evverything that could be yelled at except the pilotd while leaving the manufacture, was certainly the last. He quit. That was enough,

you don’t win a war with feelings they said

well yes,

exactly,

but you win a war with soldier, and frying their mind before they have their first fight because you want them to be more perfectionned ? That was a little counter productive.

So he gave up. They are on their own now.

The lightly humming of his car was barely enough to keep him awake, it have been a long time since he last returned home, usually, he stayed at his work place, to have more time to sleep, but then, he was sleeping even less. An endless vicious circle, things were often like that.

But all of that was over for him.

He granted these young greenhorn with his experience, and what did they do ? Ignored his advices. Sending pilots to death. So now, he had himself out of the infernal machinery. This mindless waste of human life, even where this is what they tried to save was absurd.

In the middle of his quiet and late ride, he heard a noise. Rumbling, was it the engine ? As he stopped the car backroad to check, the noise wasnt stopping. Came from the sky, military patrol ? He raised his two tired eyes on the sky and saw a shining rail approaching his forest, falling fast. Not quintesson shaped, and with the gaze of an experimented biomechanist, Ratchet identified a mech.

At this moment, its violently crashed on the ground, behind the trees at maybe three or four miles away. No matter how hard he argued with the scientist sooner this day or how bad he wanted to say fuck to all of this death industry who killed young soldiers, he could do something for the one trapped inside the mech....maybe.... the man regained his car as fast as possible and urgently headed for the crash area.

Deafened sound of tires on the damaged road. Ratchet was already projecting, mentally stocktaking the tools he took with him, and lucky enough for the poor pilot, he quit with almost all of his material, and even if it was mainly mechs repairing material, he also bought some instruments which were used for the subtle neuromedicine between human and mech. Could adapt some of it and stabilize the pilot....then he may have the time to go home and grab proper materials. If there was life there was hope.

" bold of him to crash himself just the day i insulted all of his hierachy".

He frowned. Almost there.

The trees nearby were crushed and uprooted. A flickering pink light catched his gaze.

Almost immediately, the Ratchet analyzed the mech. It was different. He didnt know in wich country it was made but that almost looks alien. The curves and shapes, busted and burned on several places were demonstrating an incredible display of genius ingeniery he could just admiring. But time was not for being amazed on plating.

Someone was trapped there.

He stopped and parked his car in front of a fallen tree, rushing to the car's trunk, taking few indispensable objets, including some of them to help a safe disconnection between pilot/mech. In case he wasnt out already. And a crowbar, the cockpit might be stuck, seeing all the damages the mech has taken...

The sound of slightly wet grass under his feet was covered by a frenetic noise of aeration. Ratchet listened to it, while cautiously approaching the unknown mech. It almost sounded like a breath, but was certainly a depressurisation issue. The mech had fallen from so high on the sky....

The damaged plating were hot, probably from atmosphere friction. He raised his crowbar and his eyes followed the curves of the chestplates, searching for a familiar shape, that could lead him to the injured pilot inside. His gaze stopped on a deep wound, that might have cut through the cockpit.

The engineer stepped on the hot metal, his thick boots preventing him from feeling the heat, and he started searching for a hint....anything that could be a mechanism, anything that could open this damn mech !

Ratchet considered the damaged chest plate he noticed earlier. The surroundings of the wound were leaking bright pink, a very unusual color for fuel. Another of these definitively strange things about the mech. Again....not the time for that. Maybe if he could widen the gap, then he would be able to have an idea of what was going on under this armor.

He tapped the plate, -it was starting to cool down- with one of his finger. It was a very little tap, but the whole mech startled. A hiss of pain, recognisible easily by an emerite engineer-but-i-fix-people-too, it had come from the head of the mecha. Was this modele controlled from the head, like Vortex ? But Vortex was insanely huge for a mech, way taller than this one. He moved careful, noticing the shaking of his support.

"You hear me, kid ? Its going to be ok. You crashed in a safe area.".

He spoke in his medic tone, wich mean, of course brusque, serious, but also reassuring and calm.

He mumbled about the mech's features and tiny words of comfort while reaching for the head.

A red light, not regular and rather epileptic was coming from the head, and while he was almost there, on all four of his limb to keep balance, Ratchet saw it.

A spectacularly humanoid face, with sculpted nose and lips was tensed in a painful expression, frowning, but the thing who trapped his gaze was the two optics....

....staring back at him.

Mechs dont stare. Their eyes are glowing, oftenly to mimick human face, after all, human are pretty prideful creature, no point in piloting big ass metal titan if no one could tell these where their creation.

What human couldnt mimick with technologie, on the other hand, was the subtle expression between trying to evualuate a threat, his own injuries, and looking rather on the verge of death but also ready to tear any enemy's limb appart with its teeth.

With just one....very long....look at the other's eye, Ratchet was suddenly understanding what was going on.

Well....probably not but he knew what he had to save.

The pilot, the pilot he had to save.

The mech was the pilot.

He was the one he had to save.

He stopped trying to -certainly- open his chest. If it wasnt good for human it probably wasnt for living technology.

The giant technological humanoid seemed in a high distress, exhaling a lot of air from his vents, his eye still intensely staring at him and the engineer doubted his usual technique -including trying to make himself as small as possible- would work.

"Its going to be okay Kid. I can help you. There is nothing here that want to harm you".

He did his best to convey all of these emotions with his facial expression and gaze, still firmly watching back at him.

"the world better wait till im home and officially retired before killing me".

The mech's gaze -damn it was so more living than ANY human made machinery- seemed to soften a bit but still radiated with suspicion.

Deadlock had been in several bad situations. It happened quite a lot when a specie of giant aliens with tendrils tried to invade your homeland, and he was ready to it.

Trained to kill, and to do it efficiently.

And he was *good* at it.

This time was just another of these ‘i went too far in my excitation’ moments, and he has crashed on a random planet he hoped was not inhabited. He landed hard, and pieces of his ship must’ve been thrown near his location.

And now, now there was an organic like no one he ever saw, and the organic was on his *lap* and he had the kindest warmest eyes he ever saw.

And these eyes were directly looking at his own eyes, and the well named ‘Deadlock’ was starting to wonder if he finally had reunited with the Allspark. His pained and tenseful grin faded a little and he tried to move his head forward, searching a better point of view to watch the singularity in front of him.

Ow.

Moving hurt.

Some sound came out of the organic’s mouth, probably a language. He didn’t had the proper tools to decode it but the tone of the language was extremely….comforting ? Soft ?

This was scary.

He wasn’t used to be welcomed like that after a fight.

Usually it was either another fight, either the yelling of a superior, either nothing at all. But this actual living being was carefully examinating his chestplates, and he recognized the gestual of someone who was used to heal. A medic perhaps ?

He tried to move something, maybe a hand, to reach for the pale organic, to be sure he was real, but his body was rather uncooperative, from what he could say, one of his legs was missing, and a lot of wound were releasing energon on the ground he couldn’t saw.

The high probabilities of bleeding out and crash was an issue.

He let his head hang, too tired to watch for every moves of the organic, and barely aware of his environment.

There must be a big problem somewhere….

He confusely thought, while watching the stars.

Must be a bigger injury I haven’t saw……..

Ratchet saw the bright light coming from the alien’s eyes slowly fading, and cold swear ran through his back. Yet, he could still say the soldier was alive, the lights of his body were shining, not a lot, but it was enough. He looked at his first aid kit with disappointment. That wouldn’t be very efficient since the form of life he was trying to preserve wasn’t a tiny human. The nearest thing he could compare the Mech to was….well their own mechs, or eventually….Quintesson. An horrible mess of organic and technology. It was partially thanks to their weird constitution that Ratchet had been able to make sense with the ‘he is alive’ thought.

At this moment and with this material, he couldn’t help the kid, and didn’t possess enough knowledge to tell if he was even dying or not.

He had already an idea of what to do….to fix him, at least trying to, but it involved several objects he hadn’t right now. Leaving to search for these so called objects was risking to let an injured alone, he couldn’t take that risk. He was trapped with the mech, and had to hurry and find something. He stood and reached for more adapted material in his car, trying to find something…. Anything.

Surprisingly, the most useful artifact he came across was his electric screwdriver and a bunch of screw along with a long metallic cabke. A parallel between human stitch, with sewing threads and the material he had with him right now. He could manage something between human fixing and mech repairing, that was what the ‘bio’ in bioengineer stood for.

The kid would be ok. He would live and tell Ratchet why he fell from the sky, and maybe if he saw his friend Jazz….out there…….

.

.

—————————————————

:)) @keferon

(I swear I’m not insane, your AU is just kinda giving me infinite drawing stamina lmao)

[ayeforscotland]

What is Dataflow?

This post is inspired by another post about the Crowd Strike IT disaster and a bunch of people being interested in what I mean by Dataflow. Dataflow is my absolute jam and I'm happy to answer as many questions as you like on it. I even put referential pictures in like I'm writing an article, what fun!

I'll probably split this into multiple parts because it'll be a huge post otherwise but here we go!

A Brief History

Our world is dependent on the flow of data. It exists in almost every aspect of our lives and has done so arguably for hundreds if not thousands of years.

At the end of the day, the flow of data is the flow of knowledge and information. Normally most of us refer to data in the context of computing technology (our phones, PCs, tablets etc) but, if we want to get historical about it, the invention of writing and the invention of the Printing Press were great leaps forward in how we increased the flow of information.

Modern Day IT exists for one reason - To support the flow of data.

Whether it's buying something at a shop, sitting staring at an excel sheet at work, or watching Netflix - All of the technology you interact with is to support the flow of data.

Understanding and managing the flow of data is as important to getting us to where we are right now as when we first learned to control and manage water to provide irrigation for early farming and settlement.

Engineering Rigor

When the majority of us turn on the tap to have a drink or take a shower, we expect water to come out. We trust that the water is clean, and we trust that our homes can receive a steady supply of water.

Most of us trust our central heating (insert boiler joke here) and the plugs/sockets in our homes to provide gas and electricity. The reason we trust all of these flows is because there's been rigorous engineering standards built up over decades and centuries.

For example, Scottish Water will understand every component part that makes up their water pipelines. Those pipes, valves, fitting etc will comply with a national, or in some cases international, standard. These companies have diagrams that clearly map all of this out, mostly because they have to legally but also because it also vital for disaster recovery and other compliance issues.

Modern IT

And this is where modern day IT has problems. I'm not saying that modern day tech is a pile of shit. We all have great phones, our PCs can play good games, but it's one thing to craft well-designed products and another thing entirely to think about they all work together.

Because that is what's happened over the past few decades of IT. Organisations have piled on the latest plug-and-play technology (Software or Hardware) and they've built up complex legacy systems that no one really knows how they all work together. They've lost track of how data flows across their organisation which makes the work of cybersecurity, disaster recovery, compliance and general business transformation teams a nightmare.

Some of these systems are entirely dependent on other systems to operate. But that dependency isn't documented. The vast majority of digital transformation projects fail because they get halfway through and realise they hadn't factored in a system that they thought was nothing but was vital to the organisation running.

And this isn't just for-profit organisations, this is the health services, this is national infrastructure, it's everyone.

There's not yet a single standard that says "This is how organisations should control, manage and govern their flows of data."

Why is that relevant to the companies that were affected by Crowd Strike? Would it have stopped it?

Maybe, maybe not. But considering the global impact, it doesn't look like many organisations were prepared for the possibility of a huge chunk of their IT infrastructure going down.

Understanding dataflows help with the preparation for events like this, so organisations can move to mitigate them, and also the recovery side when they do happen. Organisations need to understand which systems are a priority to get back operational and which can be left.

The problem I'm seeing from a lot of organisations at the moment is that they don't know which systems to recover first, and are losing money and reputation while they fight to get things back online. A lot of them are just winging it.

Conclusion of Part 1

Next time I can totally go into diagramming if any of you are interested in that.

How can any organisation actually map their dataflow and what things need to be considered to do so. It'll come across like common sense, but that's why an actual standard is so desperately needed!

[reasonsforhope]

"New York is marking the early achievement of its Climate Leadership and Community Protection Act statutory goal a year ahead of schedule, announcing that 6 gigawatts (GW) of distributed solar have been installed across the state, enough to power more than one million homes.

New York State Energy Research and Development Authority (NYSERDA) president and CEO Doreen M. Harris broke the news onsite at a distributed solar project in New Scotland, NY today. The project, developed by New Leaf Energy and owned by Generate Capital, participates in the state’s Solar for All pilot program with utility partner National Grid, meaning its generation benefits low-income households. The site’s 5.7 MW solar array will generate 6.7 million kilowatt-hours of solar energy annually, powering about one thousand homes.

“New York State has provided a replicable model for others to deliver clean, low-cost renewable energy to more consumers,” asserted Harris. “Our public-private partnerships are the catalysts which have helped us to achieve our 6-GW goal well ahead of target, trailblazing New York’s path to an equitable energy transition.”

Governor Kathy Hochul says this achievement brings New York one step closer to a reliable, resilient, zero-emission grid. The Climate Leadership and Community Protection Act contains goals to generate 70% of the state’s electricity from renewable sources by 2030 and 100% zero-emission electricity by 2040.

“Distributed solar is at the heart of reducing greenhouse gas emissions, expanding the availability of renewable energy, and delivering substantial benefits for our health, our environment, and our economy,” Hochul added.

New York achieving its distributed solar goal of 6 GW has generated approximately $9.2 billion in private investment across the state, according to NYSERDA, creating more than 14,000 solar jobs from engineering to installation. Three years ago, Governor Hochul directed to expand the goal to 10 GW by 2030.

“While we’re incredibly proud of the work and partnerships that have led to this achievement, we’re more excited that it can be repeated and multiplied. With the State’s continued leadership, we’re confident we can get to 10 GW and beyond,” predicts New Leaf Energy director of policy and business development Sam Jasinsk.

The state says it has another 3.4 GW of distributed solar projects already in development, making a 10 GW goal quite feasible.

“Customers and consumers are asking for access to clean energy, and New York state is listening,” Generate Capital Investments managing director Peggy Flannery said. Generate Capital operates 69 projects and counting in New York.

In 2023, New York installed more community solar capacity than any other state. Last year was also the state’s most productive year ever for solar installations, with 885 MW of capacity installed.

In April, NYSERDA was selected to receive nearly $250 million from the United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) Solar for All program to enhance New York State’s existing portfolio of solar deployment, technical assistance, and workforce development programs for the benefit of over 6.8 million residents that live in low-income households and disadvantaged communities. As part of the grant funding, the New York State Housing and Community Renewal, the New York City Department of Environmental Protection, and New York City Housing Preservation and Development, will implement new programs that target specific barriers to solar deployment for this population."

-via Renewable Energy World, October 17, 2024

[nostalgebraist]

Honestly I'm pretty tired of supporting nostalgebraist-autoresponder. Going to wind down the project some time before the end of this year.

Posting this mainly to get the idea out there, I guess.

This project has taken an immense amount of effort from me over the years, and still does, even when it's just in maintenance mode.

Today some mysterious system update (or something) made the model no longer fit on the GPU I normally use for it, despite all the same code and settings on my end.

This exact kind of thing happened once before this year, and I eventually figured it out, but I haven't figured this one out yet. This problem consumed several hours of what was meant to be a relaxing Sunday. Based on past experience, getting to the bottom of the issue would take many more hours.

My options in the short term are to

A. spend (even) more money per unit time, by renting a more powerful GPU to do the same damn thing I know the less powerful one can do (it was doing it this morning!), or

B. silently reduce the context window length by a large amount (and thus the "smartness" of the output, to some degree) to allow the model to fit on the old GPU.

Things like this happen all the time, behind the scenes.

I don't want to be doing this for another year, much less several years. I don't want to be doing it at all.

----

In 2019 and 2020, it was fun to make a GPT-2 autoresponder bot.

[EDIT: I've seen several people misread the previous line and infer that nostalgebraist-autoresponder is still using GPT-2. She isn't, and hasn't been for a long time. Her latest model is a finetuned LLaMA-13B.]

Hardly anyone else was doing anything like it. I wasn't the most qualified person in the world to do it, and I didn't do the best possible job, but who cares? I learned a lot, and the really competent tech bros of 2019 were off doing something else.

And it was fun to watch the bot "pretend to be me" while interacting (mostly) with my actual group of tumblr mutuals.

In 2023, everyone and their grandmother is making some kind of "gen AI" app. They are helped along by a dizzying array of tools, cranked out by hyper-competent tech bros with apparently infinite reserves of free time.

There are so many of these tools and demos. Every week it seems like there are a hundred more; it feels like every day I wake up and am expected to be familiar with a hundred more vaguely nostalgebraist-autoresponder-shaped things.

And every one of them is vastly better-engineered than my own hacky efforts. They build on each other, and reap the accelerating returns.

I've tended to do everything first, ahead of the curve, in my own way. This is what I like doing. Going out into unexplored wilderness, not really knowing what I'm doing, without any maps.

Later, hundreds of others with go to the same place. They'll make maps, and share them. They'll go there again and again, learning to make the expeditions systematically. They'll make an optimized industrial process of it. Meanwhile, I'll be locked in to my own cottage-industry mode of production.

Being the first to do something means you end up eventually being the worst.

----

I had a GPT chatbot in 2019, before GPT-3 existed. I don't think Huggingface Transformers existed, either. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

I had a denoising diffusion image generator in 2021, before DALLE-2 or Stable Diffusion or Huggingface Diffusers. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

Earlier this year, I was (probably) one the first people to finetune LLaMA. I manually strapped LoRA and 8-bit quantization onto the original codebase, figuring out everything the hard way. It was fun.

Just a few months later, and your grandmother is probably running LLaMA on her toaster as we speak. My homegrown methods look hopelessly antiquated. I think everyone's doing 4-bit quantization now?

(Are they? I can't keep track anymore -- the hyper-competent tech bros are too damn fast. A few months from now the thing will be probably be quantized to -1 bits, somehow. It'll be running in your phone's browser. And it'll be using RLHF, except no, it'll be using some successor to RLHF that everyone's hyping up at the time...)

"You have a GPT chatbot?" someone will ask me. "I assume you're using AutoLangGPTLayerPrompt?"

No, no, I'm not. I'm trying to debug obscure CUDA issues on a Sunday so my bot can carry on talking to a thousand strangers, every one of whom is asking it something like "PENIS PENIS PENIS."

Only I am capable of unplugging the blockage and giving the "PENIS PENIS PENIS" askers the responses they crave. ("Which is ... what, exactly?", one might justly wonder.) No one else would fully understand the nature of the bug. It is special to my own bizarre, antiquated, homegrown system.

I must have one of the longest-running GPT chatbots in existence, by now. Possibly the longest-running one?

I like doing new things. I like hacking through uncharted wilderness. The world of GPT chatbots has long since ceased to provide this kind of value to me.

I want to cede this ground to the LLaMA techbros and the prompt engineers. It is not my wilderness anymore.

I miss wilderness. Maybe I will find a new patch of it, in some new place, that no one cares about yet.

----

Even in 2023, there isn't really anything else out there quite like Frank. But there could be.

If you want to develop some sort of Frank-like thing, there has never been a better time than now. Everyone and their grandmother is doing it.

"But -- but how, exactly?"

Don't ask me. I don't know. This isn't my area anymore.

There has never been a better time to make a GPT chatbot -- for everyone except me, that is.

Ask the techbros, the prompt engineers, the grandmas running OpenChatGPT on their ironing boards. They are doing what I did, faster and easier and better, in their sleep. Ask them.

[vivalabunbun]

Into the Sky of Artificial Stars

Summary: Could a chest that lacks a heartbeat still learn how it would feel? Could the whir of a motor be enough of a substitute?

Word Count: 25k (I will not explain myself)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow burn (oh my), Slow fic (oh boy), SMUT(r18+), NSFW, Researcher!Reader, insomniac!Reader, Android!Alhaitham, Workaholic!Reader, soft!Alhaitham, Modern AU, Android AU, human x android dynamics, Heavy Angst, Fluff, Heavy adult themes, academic trauma, toxic family pressure, toxic academia themes, struggles of poverty and academic inequality, TW: Exploration of grief, death, and guilt, TW: Survivor's guilt and tragedy, exploration of humanity and morality, slight mentions of violence, service top!Alhaitham, test subject to lovers? slightly possessive!Alhaitham? body worship, touch starvation? cunnilingus, he falls hard like a fool, but what is there to catch a fool who tried to reach for an unobtainable star?

Authors Note: This has been in the drafts for a very long time. My first foray into sci-fi kinda? I did my best with jargon and everything, so please forgive any mistakes I've made in regard to the technical stuff. An exploration into an artificial star. Enjoy

Are you just your conscience? 

All the collective thoughts, desires, and ideals that congregate in your mind and influence your every action. Do your thoughts define you?

Are those cognitive functions, formed through a mix of instinct, teachings, and life experiences, what differentiates a man from a featherless biped?

If so, then are algorithms, simulations, and data sets interchangeable with what creates cognitive functions? Theoretically, it gives a machine the ability to develop a conscience. It gives a machine the ability to be human. 

Perhaps, a sterile lab won’t be the most fitting environment to form such a thing.

What if we clothe the machine, provide a roof over its head in a nice quiet house, and feed its mind with the mundane details of existence? Then, could technology bring a machine over the boundary of humanity? 

To engineer a brain, a conscience, a life with bare mortal hands. As if to replicate the gods. To compete with the authority of gods through scientific progression, many warn about the possible repercussions. 

However, if to give and take life is deemed sinful to be done by mortal hands, then what made those unseen gods any different?

Regardless, such philosophical ramblings won’t help you in finishing the half-written report in front of you. 

Looking past the two years' worth of reports sent already, innumerable papers penned by you within the sleep-deprived confines of the Akademiya. With a doctorate framed proudly on bland walls, that should be proof of your ability to type up a simple conclusion, right?

The weighted taps against a backspace key argue otherwise. Frustration leaves your lips in the form of a sigh as you test out a new string of words. Could these few sentences even be comprehensive of the leap in scientific progress made by mankind? 

The shapes of letters merge together, forming incomprehensible blotches of black pixels against the white backdrop. Quickly, your lids shut to offer your eyes some much-needed reprieve from the harsh light of the monitor.

It was quite naive of you to believe subjecting your weary eyes to the punishment of light mode would drive up productivity.

Your fingers remove themselves from the keyboard, perhaps your body’s stubborn protest against sitting at the desk for another minute. Maybe a coffee break is an order. 

You shouldn’t be too harsh on yourself, there hasn’t been a precedent for an experiment like this. A collaboration between the prideful Fontainian Research Institute and the arrogant Kshahrewar Darshan, the first of its kind.

Perhaps the real marvel is how the weight of their combined egos hasn’t sunk this project into the depths of abandonment. 

With a subtle squeak, your office chair rolls back granting you permission to stand up and stretch your weary limbs. Letting out a slight groan as signs of time made themselves known to your bones. The ramifications of your negligence. 

Slow steps pad through the quiet halls, floor boards singing a hymn with your leisurely stride toward the kitchen. As you make your way to the end of the long, empty hallway a silvery hue steals your attention.

Slightly obscured by the oak door frame to your home library stood the culmination of your years of overtime and long nights. A surge of anticipation places a slight weightlessness on your legs.

Approaching the end of the hall where the humble library resides, the oak doorway finally framed him in clear view. 

Structure much more nimble and organic than the gardemeks framework, with materials sourced from the finest suppliers. The most advanced software and artificial intelligence capabilities ever developed since the Akasha.

The first and only of his kind: The Android Alhaitham. 

The said pinnacle of human ingenuity and knowledge is currently flipping through a paperback book as the sunlight illuminates his synthetic skin.

The bounce light made his silver locks glimmer. As your steps slowed to a stop, he took notice of your presence. A soft snap of pages closing resounds through the passive air as Alhaitham turns his focus to you. 

Your gaze ran along the neat spines lining each shelf, a small stack of unsorted books still left by his feet, but this morning there were numerous identical piles littered all over the library.

He seems to not have any issues making progress on his assigned tasks, a great sign. 

You note that his button-down was a different color today, a sign that he’s practicing switching to a new set of clothes regularly.

A sign of routine, developing habits, and showing his steady learning of human behavior. 

The frustrations from an unfinished report fade into obscurity as the subject of your research continues to observe your form. How easy it is to forget the big picture when you stress over the small details.

With this gentle reminder, a soft curl tugs at the corners of your lips. 

Alhaitham repositions his stance, turning his body to face you, you figure he must be anticipating another task from you. Since he seems to be mostly done with his previous one, why not assign a new one?

“Could you brew me a cup of coffee, Alhaitham?” As he processes your request, you inspect his teal eyes, catching the slight glow signaling that his response is ready. 

“I could, but unfortunately the interval of opportunity has already passed.” His baritone voice articulates. 

A subtle quirk made its debut on your brows as your eyes shifted toward a clock hanging up in the corner of the study, its ticking hands displaying the time: 5:15 p.m. 

“Huh… you won’t grant me an extension?” You turn back to him. 

“If you have a request then please state it between my working hours of 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., you’re always free to submit again tomorrow.” 

He doesn’t budge. An android capable of autonomous training and self-study is different from those gardemeks who only function when given tasks. The ability to develop self-awareness, consciousness, and to think comes with its own caveats.

In Alhaitham’s case, his stubborn nature. Conceivably, he likely reviewed Sumeru’s labor laws and decided that he was entitled to such labor rights as well. 

“I work overtime almost every day for your research and development, but you can’t spare me 15 minutes?” Your lips form a pout, but you already predicted his next output. 

“Your poor work-life balance is not my responsibility.” 

Your prediction was correct. 

Another sigh leaves your lips, it’s just one of the trade-offs you must accept. After all, learning to be a human is the reason why he was created. A feat once thought to be unachievable. But he exists, and he’s developed quite a character. 

To change the trajectory of this conversation you glance at the book held within his hold. 

“Frankenstein by Mary Shelly?” You read the title aloud. 

“Yes, the 1831 edition, it’s quite the story.” Alhaitham opens the covers once more. 

“Mm, maybe I should be more cautious of what information you come across.” A subtle grin tugging at the corners of your lips as his teal eyes land back on you. 

“It’d be a bit of an issue if you were to turn against me from the wrong influences.” Resting your body against the oak doorway as you observe the android process your jest. 

“There are safety restrictions already in place to prevent such occurrences, the possibility is near zero. However, if you are still concerned then feel free to upload a list of banned materials for the next version update.” 

A huff of a chuckle escapes you as you shift more of your weight against the wooden frame. 

“Of course, of course, just remember to place your books back where you found them.” Pushing off the doorway, you allow Alhaitham to continue his unsupervised learning as you amble closer to the kitchen. 

The soft clinking of cups and spoons chime through the evening air as you scoop a few ounces of ground coffee into the brewer.

As the water slowly brings itself to a low rumble, you occupy your wait staring out the glass and at the setting sun. The flaming scarlet hues and warmth blend into mellow indigo as the night begins to reveal her stars. 

Dusk, when the line between day and night blurs to an indistinguishable mess. Would a singularity also look as luminous as the setting sun? The answer might be closer than ever before. 

The reaction to the announcement of an android development project was at first astonishment, that human knowledge had progressed this far. And the secondary reaction that followed like ripples was fear. Fear that humans will soon be replaced by beings of silicon and steel.

That a singularity would signal the end of humanity. 

Well, this was always the common reaction to disruptive change. Many cases of public pushback and hysteria against innovations you can reference throughout history. The human reaction to the unknown. 

They always gossip and fearmonger about an android domination of all of Teyvat. But have those people ever stopped to consider that the android could simply be too lazy to have such ambitions?

Instead of becoming cruel overlords, they’d rather leave books strewn about as they dock themselves into their charging port. 

To learn to be human means to learn human slothfulness too, no? Or maybe Alhaitham’s algorithm just decided to train himself to incorporate it. What a peculiar enigma he is, this android currently residing in your house. 

Your thoughts circle back to a certain novel you haven’t touched in years. A work of science fiction written by a genius author barely over the cusp of adulthood. 

You wonder how she would’ve described this impending singularity. 

A distant toll rang from the depths of a dreamless void, each chime reaching closer and closer until the bright tune devolved into jarring blares. Piercing enough to set your heavy lids into motion.

Just as they peeked open, they flinched back shut from a stray ray that snuck between the gaps of your curtains. 

Your leaden body groans at the brightness of the room, the luminosity much greater than when you had originally settled under the covers. Yet, even with your groggy complaints the alarm resting on the nightstand offered no mercy, continuously bellowing its monotone pitch. 

With a sharp slap, your world returns to its silence. 

Angling the alarm towards you as you creak open one eye, the blurry red pixels slowly merge together to display the time. 

Didn’t you have a meeting scheduled for today? 

Another groan follows your dreadful discovery and you roll back under the plush blanket. Not much different from a child trying to protect themselves from the grasp of a fictitious monster.  

Soft comforters block the morning glow contained behind thick curtains, yet your permission to access a blank serenity was denied. It seems that your quota for sleep has been fulfilled.

Barring you from any excess repose, not that you expected anything less. A monster that torments a young mind might be fictitious, but the realities of capitalistic responsibilities unfortunately aren’t.

Taking in a deep inhale, you prep your body for the next set of dreaded actions with its drowsy limbs. Before it had the chance to protest, you kicked the covers off, ripping away the warm security from your skin. 

Ambling down the hall you gradually made your way into the kitchen, there under the morning light sat a steadfast figure whose eyes never left the book in front of him. 

“Good Morning.” You initiate the first conversation of the day.

“Congratulations.” 

You pause, hand in the midst of rubbing away the tiredness of your eyes. Staring perplexingly at his sudden praise. Alhaitham’s focus remains on his novel even as he answers your unasked question.

“You’ve beat your previous record of how many alarms it takes to get you out of bed, I believe it went off five times this morning.” 

A few beats of uninterrupted silence follow the aftermath of his response. A chain broken by a deep sigh which leaves your body.

“It’s far too early for this, Alhaitham.” Your hand goes back into motion, this time attempting to rub away frustration.

“Spare me your sarcasm until after you’ve made me breakfast and a cup of coffee.” 

From the glance you took at your clock from earlier, it’s currently well into his operational hours.

“Understood.” Setting the book down, his tall frame makes its way into the kitchen. 

Settling down at the lacquered table, your seat grants you a clear view of your android collecting some eggs from the refrigerator. Even as the hands of fatigue beckon your lashes to flutter shut, you refuse to indulge in such luxuries.

You had to watch just in case he decided his book couldn’t wait.

A series of trials and errors already well documented in those weekly reports back to the Akademiya and Institution. A human in training is bound to have some mishaps occur, or more accurately, this android might have different priorities.

One notable case was the time you asked Alhaitham to clean the floors while you attended a conference call. Only to step into puddles of soapy water the moment you leave your office door.

Connecting eyes with teal as he stood in the middle of it all mop in hand. For the time being, you’ve barred him from such tasks. 

Although, you wouldn’t be surprised if he made a mess just as an excuse to sit back on the couch with a book. This fickle android of yours. Your third sigh of the day. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The tranquil afternoon interlude that enveloped the house was interrupted by a sharp chime. Glancing at the numbers displayed on the corner of your screen, it looks like it’s right on schedule.

You had just concluded your monthly conference call, it’d be good to stretch your legs a bit after sitting through a few hours of professional formalities. 

Leaving your home office to journey toward the front door, you spot Alhaitham’s frame by the entranceway. His head turns to acknowledge your presence. Passing him to make your way to the front door, you hear him shift closer.

Soon the brilliance of a star pours into the entranceway, illuminating the hall as the door opens.

“Good afternoon, grocery delivery?” The young man on the steps greets, a strain in his polite tone as bags weigh down on his arms. 

“Yes, there was a last-minute addition of henna berries, were you able to get those?”

“Yep, they’re in one of these bags.” 

“Thank you, sorry for the trouble, I’ll take it from here.” You cast a glance over your shoulders back at a tall form standing idly. 

“Please come help with the groceries.” 

“Understood.” It took only a few strides for the burden weighing down on the delivery boy, effortlessly hanging them all on his engineered arms without a hint of strain. 

“Careful, they’re heavy, mister-” The warning dies at the tip of the young man’s tongue as his wide eye reflects the artificial glow of teal irises. 

It’s best to end this trial now, to prevent a commotion or disturbing the delivery boy who isn’t paid enough to be frightened. You could see it in the slight tremble of his agape mouth as his brain processed the thing in front of him. 

“Thank you again, please don’t mind him, have a great day.” Before you could hear his response, the door was shut. 

A bit rude according to societal norms, but you’re sure a generous gratuity bonus paid on top of the delivery fee is enough to stifle any disgruntlement. Considering his reaction, it looks like your hypothesis remains correct.

The people of Teyvat still need more time to adjust to the existence of androids. Just because science progresses, it doesn’t mean human acknowledgment moves at the same rate.  

Turning away from the door, a pair of glass irises connect with yours, a sheen of expectancy just under the brilliant teal hue. Alhaitham stands there with the bags still hanging from his arms. 

“If you already know what I’m about to assign you, then you should just take the initiative, Alhaitham.” You huff. 

“It’s not a bad habit to wait for any specific instructions.” Came his baritone rebuttal.

“Just take those to the kitchen.” 

“Understood.” He pivots away, taking slow steps toward the kitchen. 

“Ah, sort them into the fridge and cupboards too, do not just dump them on the counter.” You warn, learning from your previous mistakes. 

Seriously, Alhaitham has long evolved past needing step-by-step detailed prompts, thus you suspect it's merely an act of his.

You’ve watched his character develop, his habits form, and his routine take shape. Just where did he learn such behavior? This strange android of yours. 

You watch as he carries the numerous bags without a hint of strain. Alhaitham was much better suited for carrying your week’s worth of rations from the market. Unfortunately, he is proprietary technology.

Clearance to allow an android out into the world hasn’t been granted yet. 

Not that you were eager to receive it. The logistics of such an event are a nightmare to plan. The protocols needed in emergencies to ensure the safety of civilians and the millions of mora poured into his creation. 

There’s always a nonzero chance his system gets overloaded from trying to analyze every blurred face in a crowd. A nonzero chance that he would simply wander beyond the merchants and their fruit stalls. A nonzero chance that the gem implanted between his collarbones could spark curiosity. 

Those same curious eyes could catch onto the artificial glow of teal irises, morphing curiosity into terror. 

Even in Fontaine where it was more common for machines to walk among crowds, they were always designed to look like machines. Their clockwork pieces are obvious and distinguishable, a design choice to bring comfort to the mortal psyche.

An easy way for a human to differentiate a person and a thing. If that line becomes blurred, then…

With a deep sigh, you reel your thoughts back from their philosophical journey. Regardless, it’d be a problem for the future to handle.

–-------------------------------------------------------------

Soft clacks resound from the keyboard as a new string of words appears on your screen, documenting the events of the day on your laptop as you sit on your sofa.

The soft cushions are a welcomed change from a stiff office chair. Just over the top of your screen, Alhaitham sat across from an adjacent couch. Methodically folding a basket of laundry and sorting them into piles. 

An easy enough task for him, but as you watch you make sure to note down the improvements in his motor skills and dexterity. Movements organic and fluid, much like those of a human.

It truly is astonishing just how far technology has progressed, from clockwork pieces and clunky steps to the specimen sitting just a few steps away. 

A tall and sturdy frame, well-portioned face with handsome teal irises, and synthetic starlight hair. Features created from the finest equipment and materials, a truly magnificent piece of scientific progress.

Amid your appreciation for his structure, Alhaitham halts all motion, setting down the towel back into the basket. Resulting in your eyebrows creasing together. 

“What’s wrong Alhaitham? Did you forget how to fold a towel?” 

Alhaitham did not attempt to entertain your jest, so much so, that he simply stared past you. Teal eyes honing in on an object just beyond you, never breaking focus to discern the bewilderment on your face.

Finally relenting, you follow his stare toward a clock, reading the time: 5:00 p.m. 

“Seriously? You haven’t finished folding the laundry yet,” you remark in utter exasperation. 

The teal glow of his eyes shows that he’s received your remark, yet he doesn’t make an effort to return a verbal response. He chooses instead to simply continue staring at the time as his hands wait by his side in opposition.

Him staring at a clock, you staring at him, a one-sided showdown. 

A naughty cat prancing about a countertop where it shouldn’t be could simply be picked up and removed.

A disobedient dog dirtying the couch with its muddy paws could be lured off with the sight of a treat.

But an android? What are you going to do to an android whom you had to tilt your head up to make eye contact with? 

This wasn’t a hill you’re willing to die on, thus with a dismissive wave of your hand, you concede. Allowing Alhaitham to do as he pleases, which he graciously does. His form leaves the couch, heading in the predictable direction of the library as a deep sigh leaves you.

This stubborn android of yours, you made sure to document this on today’s report. Just as how it was yesterday, and the day before, and even the day before that. 

Hopefully, in the event of an actual android apocalypse, he might show you the same leniency. You couldn’t help but scoff at your ridiculous musings. A machine with nothing but a motor and battery in his chest, would he understand leniency even if you were to code it into him? 

Soon his frame comes back into view, a pile of books clutched within his hold, just as you predicted. Shamelessly, he sits in the middle of his unfinished chores while leisurely scanning the pages in front of him. 

This fickle, strange, and stubborn android follows the rhythm of his own motor regardless of what protocols you instill.

Yet, as you watch his fingers flip through the worn book and take up space on your couch, a smile develops on your features. A soft curl of your lips, easily obscured by the screen of your laptop. 

A fickle, strange, and stubborn android is not too different from a person, one who had a heartbeat.

An android who takes up space on your couch and house, making it a bit less empty than previously. That was good enough. 

What made man? Intellect? Innovation? Language? 

This was the dilemma assigned to him since the very first time his system powered up in that facility, welcomed into this world by glaring fluorescent lights and the numerous stares of figures in white coats.

A dilemma that follows him even to his current place on a spacious couch.

According to sources pulled from the Akasha and cross-references from numerous printed materials made available to him, many throughout history have been pondering this same conundrum. A philosopher once defined man as featherless bipeds. 

However, wouldn’t this make a plucked chicken a man too? A definition so ambiguous a mere student proved the teacher wrong. 

Then, is man defined by their flesh? Having skin and bones instead of silicon parts and metal components? To have blood pumped by a heart instead of operating off a battery and motor? Was it biology that defined man?

But if that was the simple truth, then why was Frankenstein’s creation addressed as nothing more than a monster?

From his arms to his legs to his mind, everything which made up that creature was human. He had blood, he had flesh, he had bones. So why was he chased away by flaming torches and pitchforks as a mob screamed ‘monster’? Why was a creature made from human flesh not human?

His train of thought halts as a familiar set of steps patter against the floor. Automatically, his sights hone in at the corner of a wall even before your face reveals itself from behind it. 

Teal-colored eyes refocus to catch the subtle perk of your eyebrows and widened eyes. An expression of surprise he analyzes, his immediate focus must have caught you off guard.

Did you have some other test outlined for him? Did you need to collect more data from earlier today? Another household task perhaps? 

How unfortunate, the hour on the clock read half past 8 p.m. Have you not learned from your tardiness the week prior?

“If you have a request, then please wait until 9 a.m. tomorrow when I’m within my business hours.” 

Even with the wall partially obscuring your form, the restrained giggle through lips fighting back a grin was picked up by his audio system. 

“No, no, there’s no more tasks for today.” 

As your gaze centers on him, he takes note of the refractions of fluorescent lights along your irises.

“Then is there something you’d like to discuss?” He prompts. 

“Mm… no, not right now.”

His stone-faced stare was enough of a response, judging by the smile spreading across your features.

“I just felt like checking up on you, after all, you are the most proprietary piece of technology at the moment.” 

At times like these, Alhaitham felt that the audio cue of a sigh was the most effective communication out of all the languages created by man. Muffed chuckles accompany it. 

“I’ll leave you be then.” 

The floorboards trill under your steps as you amble towards the kitchen. Alhaitham returns to the last few pages still left open on his lap. 

Small tinkering from beyond the living room serves as an ambient tune. The swift opening and closing of a refrigerator door. A harsh pull on a microwave door is contrasted by the bright beeps of buttons, leading to a low hum.

He hypothesizes there to be some leftovers spinning around. 

After the microwave sang its concluding chimes, the clatter of a plate follows a firm tug. A drawer rattles open, metal clinking against metal as you sift around for the right utensil. The drawer rattles again as it closes. 

Rhythmic footsteps take center stage as they trail back down an empty hall, Alhaitham waits to hear the resounding click of a door returning to its frame. Just as the final echo of the click sounds out through the air he places the finished novel on the coffee table. 

Leaving the comfort of the cushions, he makes his way to the kitchen to access the aftermath. A microwave door left wide open, a drawer only halfway closed, and of course another dirty coffee mug in the sink. 

Returning the microwave and drawer to their rightful states, his teal eyes count the pile of cups sitting since this morning. A collection that grew throughout the day. 

Alhaitham looks up in the direction of your office. A soft glow leaked out from under the gap of the door, bleeding light into the dim hall. His systems identify the audible taps of a keyboard and the occasional shift of an office chair. He deduces that you were working overtime again. 

He found it a bit ironic at times. A body of mechanical components has no qualms about lounging on a sofa. But you, a creature of flesh and blood, refuse to submit to the allure of rest. Although, Alhaitham wouldn’t find it too implausible that coffee ran through those veins of yours instead. 

Repetitive clacks of keys and mouse clicks play a melody he had heard ever since the first day he opened his eyes.

A tune that accompanies the rhythm of his steps and motions when he goes about his tasks as you document them.

A lullaby that plays after his routine tasks as he heads back to his charging port when you log a daily report. 

An accompaniment to the silent moon and her stars as you stay up at a desk. 

Needing to reach the next exit criteria. Needing to collect the next set of data. Needing to submit the next report. 

Would it be because a body of flesh has agency? With cells in a losing race against time, was there something you wanted to attain within your mortal hands from this research before the race ended?

Or did you just want to fill the vacant lull of this house with those little taps of a keyboard?

Regardless, it’s not within his capacity to disturb your work. Thus all he could do was roll up his sleeves, turn on the running water, and pick up a sponge. Scrubbing the cups with warm soapy water, imitating the motions you’ve shown him before, until the dried stains vanish. 

If it’s not featherlessness, if it’s not bipedalism, and if it’s not flesh… then could it just be agency that made him different from you? 

Maybe he’ll ask you another day, placing the cups into the dish rack. 

Sorting and organizational tasks are his strong suit, in other words, he’s very good at completing easy jobs. Leaving the more… tedious chores to you.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you rest on the handle of the broom. The hallway between your office and the bedrooms is the last section that needs to be swept. 

Alhaitham was likely back in his place on the couch, book in hand as he lounged around. Weren’t androids created in hopes of making life easier?

 So much for that, you internally huffed, repositioning your grip on the broom. A soft but bright clink catches your attention. Glancing down, you quickly discover the source. A ring wrapped around your finger.

Kept on your finger for so long, it’s become almost an extension of yourself, this keepsake piece of jewelry. 

Abandoning the broom against a wall, your other hand fiddles with the gold band. A frown forms upon your lips when a faint scratch shows itself on the gold surface

Gingerly, you remove the ring, pinching it between your fingers as you hold it up to the light, examining the damage closer. The shine of its once-polished surface was dulled by trivial scuffs and dents, damaged by the signs of time.

Regrettably, it seems you’ve been neglecting it as well. 

So much so, that the ring felt compelled to remove itself from your grasp in protest. Slipping out of your tender hold, which propels you into motion, graceless attempts at catching the small piece of jewelry to no avail. 

 It soon collides with the wooden floor as a chime rings out, still, gravity didn’t buy you enough time to catch the evasive gem. For it then decides to run under the gap of a door, disappearing from your sight. Leaving you there in defeat. 

Taking a deep inhale, holding it for a few seconds, you release the air in your lungs. Returning your gaze up from the wood grain, you stare at the obstacle in front of you: a mere door. 

Its brass knob gleams as if to taunt you, daring you to open it, to face what lay beyond. Slowly, you release your clenched fingers, setting your hand back into motion. You’re far too grown to be scared of a room in your own home, especially when you know what is behind it. 

Its hinges ring out in surprise, it’s been a while since they were opened. The daunting door opens up to reveal a lackluster collection of old furniture, picture frames, and various other assortment of items.

Their forms all covered by plain sheets thrown over them, silhouettes, outlined like ghost. A slight tickle appears in your nose from the layers of dust you disturbed. 

A poor, unfortunate room you’ve designated as storage, where items go to be neglected. You were busy enough with work as it is.

To avoid seeing the reminders of responsibilities you’ve been pushing off, you’d rather throw them behind a door. Out of your sight, out of your mind. 

The sooner you find that ring, the sooner you can turn a blind eye to the various items you’ve long abandoned yet refused to let go of. Amongst the dull dust and sheets, it wasn’t very hard to spot the golden glimmer from peaking through. 

Trudging towards the mischievous ring, you kneel to finally catch it within your hand. Such a troublesome thing, you chide as you stand back up. Bracing your other hand on the nearest sheet-covered surface, only for it to come into contact with an odd object.

Startled, you instinctively hold onto both the ring and the odd object as you jolt back up. Glancing down at your hands, your eyes finally identify the object. 

A collection of tiny planets and stars dangling from thin strings glimmered with the soft light creeping in from the afternoon sun. A soft smile made its way to your lips.

How silly it was that a toy made to entertain young infants had you so enraptured. You bought it on a whim, then tossed it into the depths of a dust-covered room. And yet it’s now back in your hands. Perhaps the beckoning of the stars still calls for you. 

A part of you wonders if it was your fascination with the night sky that caused sleep to evade you. Sitting up on a mattress well past bedtime to gaze out to the vast ocean of dazzling and blinking lights that dotted against a navy backdrop. While the pristine radiance of the moon reflected off your irises. 

Or did your fascination develop because it was always the moon and her stars that silently accompanied your long nights?

Gentle lights who lent you their well wishes and encouragement as you anguished through assignments and exams. 

What an honor it was for you to be able to witness her beauty so often. It was a pity that some, who disregarded her grace in favor of dreams, weren’t able to experience the brilliance of a starry night.

Maybe your parents fell in the category of the majority. Maybe that’s why they couldn’t even fathom such a thing. 

A past conversation over an old wooden table started in your mind before you could muster the strength to push it back. 

–----

“C’mon, eat, eat.” Your mother places a hearty serving of Biryani in front of you. 

The old kitchen table groaned under the weight of the spread of dishes on its surface. To call it anything short of a feast would be a lie. The walls of the modest home are filled with a variety of rich aromas and spices. 

“You have to eat to study harder, don’t think just because you made it into the Akademiya you can take it easy now.” Your father remarked. 

“I wouldn’t dare dream of it.” You picked up your fork. 

Letting out a chuckle, he pats your back as a rare smile graced his stern face. Your mother’s face mirrored the same radiance, the beaming glow of pride. For you, their daughter, their only child, and only hope had been accepted into the Akademiya. 

The most prestigious university of all of Sumeru and Teyvat, with millions competing for those few spots each and every year. Only the best of the best, only those who outshone the rest, and only those gifted and blessed would ever be admitted.

Yet, you were sent a letter from the oh-so-grand institution. 

A child from a town far away in the shadows of the grand Akademiya was accepted.

What were the odds of that? For a child whose own parents never got the opportunity for higher education to become the first to go off to university? The cause of this celebratory feast. 

The warm Spring breeze contributed to the sweetness of this small moment in time, as plates were passed and glasses clanked.

All those scattered notes, cramped hands, and revisions have rewarded you with the golden brilliance of sunrise after endlessly long nights. 

A smile crept up the corners of your lips. A light has finally appeared to illuminate this trending path you’ve climbed. 

Your father washed down his previous bite with a sip from his cup, placing it down before he began his next question:

“Have you decided on which Darshan to go into?” 

The sweet breeze turns into a chill down your spine as your fork halts its motion. The dilemma you have been dreading has finally arrived at the kitchen table. 

You had to memorize every mathematical formula. You had to pinpoint every detail in a historical timeline. You had to know every syntax of a sentence. You had to understand the molecular structures of life. 

A child had to learn everything, and now they had to pick something to learn. How would the child know? The child only knew how to study. 

“Amurta? Spantamad? Oh, what about Kshahrewar? I heard that it was also good.” Your mother chimed in. 

“Amurta?” Your father scoffed a bit. 

“Dear, as if this tuition isn’t expensive enough, think of how much med school will cost.” 

“Oh I know, I know, but you know how well doctors get paid! I heard those labs also give a decent salary.” Your mother reasons. 

“Ah, but it takes too long. Engineering isn’t half bad either, there’s been a demand for more engineers recently.” Your father takes another sip of his drink.

“Oh, but it’s not up to us,” she turned to face you. 

“It’s up for our little scholar now isn’t it?” 

A paradoxical question, because your options were already decided for you from the very start.

Carefully selected paths were already laid out before you as your parents watched on with expecting eyes, waiting for your foot to take a step on the path they wanted most. 

Poking at a stray grain of rice on your plate, you gather up the scattered pieces of courage. You were a child who only knew how to study, yet, a child is still susceptible to dreams, no?

“I have thought about it.” You began.

“And?” Your mother couldn’t help but nudge you to continue. 

“I was thinking about Rtawahist,” you confessed. 

It was as if even the sweet Spring air wanted to escape the now-still walls, leaving dread to fill the void it had left. No dishes were passed, no utensils rattled, and no cups clinked. Just bewildered stares you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. 

“Rtawahist? As in the school that looks at the sky?” Your father’s face had returned to its stern default. 

“Astronomy? Yes, that’s the Darshan that studies Astronomy.” Your eyes didn’t dare leave your plate. 

Among the options selected by them from their perceptions of future opportunities and prestige for you. You dare interject with one of your own. 

A deep sigh sealed your fate. 

“Astronomy? You want to study Astronomy? And get what job?” 

The pierce from your father’s harsh tone made you flinch, even though you expected it. 

“You can look at the stars for free, why would I pay to send you to school to study something so useless?”

“There are jobs for Astronomy.” You reasoned. 

“Like what?” His finger drummed against the wood. 

“Like-” 

You made the mistake of looking up from your plate, the fragile wisps of courage dissipated like smoke the moment you did. All the arguments and rebuttals you had prepared vanished along with it. The frown that pulled down your father’s face and the scrunched brow concern of your mother’s were enough to snuff out your pitiful rebellion. 

“Go on.” He challenged. 

“...” 

“That’s what I thought.” Your father snatched up his cup. 

Your focus retreated back to your plate, recentering on the grains of rice you pushed around with the ends of a fork. A motion that continued until another hand stopped yours. 

“Little one…” Your mother began. 

Her thumb traced over your fidgeting hand, a touch which comforted yet scorned you all at once. 

“You know that lady who lived down the street? Her son got a career working with computers and now they live in a big house, doesn’t that sound nice?”

You hummed. 

“Kshahrewar isn’t so bad, right? Just a few years and then you can get a good job.” 

Yes, she had spelled out the purpose of your studies like red-inked corrections on a test. It was how it always was, why did you think it would change now?

Having to prove you deserved the food on the plate in front of you.

Having to bring home top grades to prove all those books and materials were worth it.

Having to get a job that could break this cycle your parents were trapped in. How else would you be able to pay them back? 

It was their mora, earned from long hours and labor, that fed you, clothed you, and sheltered you. They made your world with their calloused hands. It was their justification to command it as well. You were their only child, their only investment. 

This was the dilemma imposed upon you. 

–----

Your fingers clench around the childish imitation of the night sky, running the plastic surfaces under your mindless touch. Thoughts still light years away in the recesses of your memories. 

How silly, for someone who loved the planet and the stars so much how did you forget that one fascinating detail? Planets orbit a sun because of gravity.

It was the force of a greater mass that commanded the lesser, it was what kept a planet going round and round within its grasp. It was the gravity of the sun that gave a planet a direction, a path to follow, a purpose even. 

Perhaps it’s because the sun knew what was best for its little planet.

It was the diplomas framed nicely on a wall that granted you a secure job, it was your cushy job that permitted you to purchase this cushy home. 

Your parents planned this out long ago, thus you merely just followed. 

However, when the sun disappears, when the central mass that gave a small planet a purpose disappears, what would the little planet do? 

Drifting endlessly in a vacuum of nothingness, with no direction, no path, no light. No day or night and an endless Winter, would it be as if the world stopped spinning.

That little planet would be no different than a cold lump of rock in a vast emptiness. 

A sharp creak pierces through the tormentful quietude, a chirr that reels your thoughts back to a dusty room. Head instinctively following the direction of the noise, you fixate on the doorway.

Catching the diffused afternoon sun glimmering in silver locks reminiscent of starlight. 

Alhaitham stands silently at the threshold of the door, its frame perfectly centering him as his teal eyes analyze you. Not a single engineered limb crossed the boundary of the dusty room. Just as it was defined in a set of restrictions implemented into his system by you. 

As evidenced by his unintentional disregard for his environment, the floorboards bearing witness to his careless execution of chores, you restricted him from this decrepit room.

Although all it contains is a chaotic collection of trinkets and keepsakes, the dust-coating provides them with a blanket of security. You saw no reason to change it. 

A telling teal glow blinks momentarily before Alhaitham breaks the lull.

“Are you uncomfortable anywhere?”

It was just now that you noticed the wet trails rolling down your cheeks. Wiping away the cooling dampness on your skin, you confirmed the presence of tears. Your senses took their time returning from their escapade.

Alhaitham remains in his spot, patiently awaiting your next response. How embarrassing it is, to be seen in such a state by a being who could shed no tears. Quickly, you wipe away the trails on your other cheek.

“I’m fine, just lost in thought for a moment.” Swiftly you place the toy down.

A smooth weight encased in the palm of your hand reminds you of the ring, the item that lured you into this dusty room.

Perhaps it should be best to have let it remain undisturbed on your finger. It’s a common wives’ tale that keepsakes ward off bad omens. 

“Is that truly all?” He made a no move, his eyes rescanning the environment as if unconvinced by your answer. 

You wonder if it’s because of some protocol or conditional in his software. Safety measures set in place during this test of whether an artificial being could live in harmony with mortals. 

However, as you gaze upon your magnum opus the specifics of programming and software fade into irrelevancy. Trailing your eyes up from his teal irises to his starlight silver trusses that glimmered in the soft light, revealing a hint of mint. It took you a while to find that exact shade during his manufacturing stage. 

There’s always a chance that a drifting planet could be caught in the orbital pull of another. Whether it be man-made or not didn’t matter.

As long as it was of a significant mass its gravity should be enough to pull a lonely planet from its aimless wanderings. It can set the stray planet into a new orbit, giving it a new path. 

A small lump of rock could find a new star to center around. 

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” 

You will be fine. Slowly, and with one step after another, you will be fine one day. 

The typical 24-hour day for a working adult can be broken down into a set schedule. Waking up at around 8 a.m. to wash one’s face and brush their teeth as they make themselves presentable for work. Followed by a light breakfast or a cup of coffee before. 

Some then start their commute to work or jump onto their desktop to clock in around 9 a.m. to begin their work. In the middle of their shift, usually around noon, they are granted a one-hour lunch break, after that they work until 5 p.m. when they finish their work. 

Coming back home to enjoy dinner around 7 p.m. followed by an hour or two of leisure before a bedtime routine begins. Washing the day's influences off oneself, brushing their teeth, and changing into comfortable attire.

If they want to get a restful 8 hours of sleep they cannot go to bed any later than 10:45 p.m. to account for the 15-minute downtime to allow the body to enter the sleeping state. 

This cycle then resets and repeats just as the sky cycles through the sun and moon. A typical and average reality for most adults in Sumeru. Well, from the data he pulled from the Akasha, this was the typical day for the average working civilian. 

It just so happens that you’re a stray data point skewing the graph.

If he were to estimate your bedtimes from the activity of your desktop and laptop, it would be a chaotic set of timestamps ranging from 2 a.m. to 5 a.m., sometimes the activity on your devices never ceased. An indication of what is referred to as an ‘all-nighter’.

Behavior that might be acceptable for those attending the Akademiya, but certainly not for a working adult. 

At this moment, Alhaitham stood in the hall just a few steps away from your bedroom door. His frame remained motionless to avoid disturbing the floorboards beneath him.

Taking into account your device’s activities, Alhaitham estimates your bedtime was 4: 45 a.m. this morning. Given how your alarm is set to around 8 a.m., amounting to about 3 hours of sleep.

Not even half of the recommended time by Sumeru’s health administration. 

By all means, Alhaitham finds it confounding how you’re still able to perform so efficiently at your job, managing both the Insitute and Akademiya while operating on a few morsels of sleep.

He wonders if that was the reason why you were selected as the personnel who’s facilitating his learning. 

Perhaps, they hoped he’d emulate your work ethic and efficiency. How unfortunate, his self-learning pivoted him away from such conduct. 

As he stands observing the woodgrain of your door, Alhaitham finds himself at a crossroads. It’s not within his capacity to interfere, conditionals coded into his software to prevent him from disrupting your privacy.

Laws mandating the privacy of employees and civilians alike.

Simultaneously, there are protocols instilled in him that instruct him to prevent harm from befalling you. 

A contradiction. Something that would cause a regular system to return an error as it fails to satisfy one conditional while trying to work within the bounds of another. 

Chronic sleep loss results in an increased risk of heart attacks, strokes, and hypertension.

Long-term sleep loss also results in impaired memory and concentration, although it’s not affecting your productivity now, it doesn’t mean it won’t decline soon.

These statistics were all provided by Sumeru’s health administration. 

The effects on the brain are quite severe as well, with increased feelings of stress, anxiety, and depression.

A quiet afternoon scene replays, in a dust-covered room, where he found you staring off at nothing as silent rivulets rolled down your cheeks.

That memory stored within his RAM was enough for Alhaitham to come to his conclusion. 

Alhaitham must act on his own will and deal with anything that appears harmful in his eyes.

To allow you to continue your destructive routine which is proving to be detrimental to your health would be inadvertently allowing harm to befall you. Thus, he decides one conditional must override another. 

Careful to prevent the hinges of your bedroom door from trilling, Alhaitham enters. Analyzing the shape outlined by messy layers of blankets draped over your figure, you must still be in the depths of slumber.

There are about 15 minutes before your first alarm is set to go off, since your commute was a simple walk to your home office, you had the flexibility to sleep through a few grating beeps. 

This habit could use a few improvements. He turns his focus to the thick curtains hiding the room away from the greetings of a morning star.

Sunlight sends a signal to the pituitary gland, calling to suppress melatonin production and increase cortisol production and serotonin.

A natural cue for your body to start, to allow the bright rays to touch your skin would also be good for vitamin production too. 

With a simple tug, the thick drapes were pulled away, granting the rays of the sun to enter and illuminate the still room.

Your body instinctively retreats deeper under the covers, a clear sign that the light is doing its job. He’ll leave the rest up to the alarm impatiently waiting to belt out its chorus of pitches. Just like the shadows slipping away, he exits just as quietly. 

It took only two alarms to get you out of bed and ambling down the hall toward the kitchen. A 60% decrease from when the curtains were shut, however, more trials are needed to conclusively establish a pattern.

His teal gaze follows you as you approach the kitchen. Hands rubbing at your eyes. 

“Why is it so bright?” Your words were groggy. 

“It’s morning,” he answers. 

An unamused glare replaces the fatigue in your expression, Alhaitham deems his response satisfactory. 

After a deep sigh, you shut your eyes again, still trying to adjust to the brightness surrounding you, hands returning to rub at your eyelids.

Excessive rubbing of the eyes isn’t good for them, he notes. However, before he could address it another prompt from you took priority. 

“Did I leave my curtains open last night?” You asked yourself. 

“Coffee?” He interjects. 

Glancing back up at him, you paused for a moment as your groggy mind remembered why you traversed to the kitchen in the first place, diverting your attention away from mysteriously moving drapes. 

“Yes, please make me a cup, Alhaitham.” 

“Understood.”

The android turns toward the marble countertop, preparing the coffee grounds into the machine as you sit at your place at the table.

One day isn’t enough to correct a bad habit, but over time, bit by bit, your schedule will fall into a new rhythm. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The cheerful doorbell ring interrupts Alhaitham amidst reorganizing the books on a shelf. Right on schedule.

From just down the hall he hears the knob of your office door turn as it opens, followed by a few cautious steps as you venture closer to the front door. As you pass the doorway of the library, Alhaitham observes the furrow between your brow on your perplexed face. 

“Is there someone at the door?” You turn to him. 

Another ring followed by a few gentle knocks answers your question for him as your head snaps back into the direction of the noise. Crime in this suburban neighborhood is very low, but he does understand why you’d want to be careful.

Perhaps, he should accompany you to ease your nerves over the sudden ring from the door. 

With an android just behind you, you had finally mustered up the courage to answer the daunting door under his teal supervision. 

“Hello, delivery from Lambad’s Tavern, paid online.” 

“Huh?-” 

“One order of Minty Bean Soup, one order of butter chicken, and one rose custard?” The delivery man interrupts your confusion as he lists off your entrees. 

“Yes…” you reply as you cast a glance back at an idle android. 

The entrees listed were all dishes you asked him to make you for lunch a few hours earlier. Judging by the suspicion upon your furrowed brows, he could tell that you noticed as well. However, with a delivery man holding out the takeout bag on the front steps. It’d be rude to just have him remain there, no? 

“Enjoy your meal!” He announces as he hands over the bag into your arms. 

“Yes, thank you.” You close the door, spinning around almost instantly to confront the android with the bag still in hand. 

“Did you order this?”

“Yes.” 

“Again? I asked you to make food, not order it,” you tsk. 

“I did it to optimize my time.” Crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

“All you have to do is heat up the frozen meals.” 

“Then according to protocol, I’d have to stay in the kitchen to watch over the oven and stove, not to mention the dishes I’d have to wash afterward. So ordering takeout would save time as well as not prevent me from my task of organizing-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” You concede with a sigh. 

Taking a few steps past him towards the direction of the kitchen before you pause midstep to turn back to him. 

“Do not use your funds to order weird things off the internet.” You warn before promptly continuing on your way to have your late lunch. 

“Understood.” 

Just as he suspected, there isn’t a problem that can’t be helped with a bit of mora. If Alhaitham were to follow your request as you instructed, he knew that the reheated meal would turn cold as it sits abandoned on the kitchen table.

Even when he informs you of his task’s completion, you’d push back your lunchtime until you needed another dose of caffeine. 

However, a simple ring of a doorbell could do what he can’t. Drawing your attention and body away from the confines of your desk. An efficient reminder to have your meals at a regular time if he says so himself.

Besides, fresh ingredients are better than frozen meals in terms of nutrients. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The sun had long retreated into a navy blanket of the night, allowing the moon to take its place in the sky. Serene beauty watching over the nighttime bustle of Sumeru city slowly peters out, and many return to their homes at the beck and call of slumber. 

Alhaitham settled himself upon his spot on the couch, a lamp just off to the side illuminating the pages of his book softly. The quiet lull of the living room periodically broken by the crisp turn of a page.

The typical rhythm that resonates through the house around this hour. His acute senses pick up a frustrated pair of steps pattering closer. 

Ah, yes a new accompaniment has jumped this evening's tempo. 

“Is the router having issues again?” You groan as your frame appears from around the corner. 

Casting a halfhearted glance off to where said device sat on a side table, his teal eyes return to his book. 

“The light shows that it’s online.” 

“Then why is it taking forever to upload a simple file? It’s been five minutes and it’s not even halfway done.” You took quick strides past his idle frame. 

Crouching down to be at eye level with the device in question. Unplugging the power cord from its back and then sticking it back. Eyes studying the blinking lights as the router reboots and reconnects to the internet.

Pulling out your phone, you sigh as you try to load up a webpage only to be met by a spinning circle of contemplation. 

“Network providers tend to have slowdowns this late at night, some say it's due to bandwidth congestion while others argue that they do it to cut costs,” Alhaitham states, teal eyes honed in onto the text as to avoid your pouting glare. 

“Very helpful, Alhaitham.” Another sigh leaves you as you stand back up. 

He spoke the technical truth, those companies do tend to slow down their networks at night to save on some operational costs.

However, in this case, it was the former that was causing your device’s screens to perpetually stay in loading. Activities such as streaming videos, music, or downloading files take up the most bandwidth.

Alhaitham simply wanted to download some digital copies of recent scientific journals, and maybe a few songs here and there as well. All done simultaneously which led to some congestion.

How unfortunate. 

“This has been happening for the past month now, I should call the network provider, it’s driving me up a wall.” Another groan of frustration. 

His teal eyes follow your figure from behind the tops of his book, watching you rub your temples as if to expel the exasperation from your body with each mumble that leaves your lips. 

“The internet’s so slow I can’t even connect to the Akasha’s databases, that file is still uploading, what should I do in the meantime?”

His hearing was able to pick up each syllable uttered from under your exhausted breath. He shifts his focus momentarily toward the clock just across the room, reading: 10:00 p.m. Since you asked, it’s only right that he responds with his input. 

“It’s an issue beyond your control, the best option to utilize your time at this moment would be to get an adequate amount of rest.” 

This time it was your turn to respond to him with a deadpan stare, clearly unamused by his suggestion. 

“I want to analyze a few more datasets.”

“Missing a few hours of overtime won’t have any determinate effects on your productivity or livelihood.” 

“This is for the sake of your development, Alhaitham.” You sigh as if your statement would mystically change his rationale. 

“The short-term gratification you’ll get from sacrificing your rest for a few revelations isn’t worth the long-term ramifications of your health.” He bluntly discloses. 

Silence fills the room once more, but something odd seems to have mingled with the serenity of the air. This strange inclusion prompts Alhaitham to finally turn away from the pages, connecting his gaze with yours. 

“Was my response unsatisfactory?” He studies your expression, and rather than furrowed brows, he finds a soft roundness to your eyes. 

Him staring at you, you staring at him. A scene that continued for a few beats more before you were the first to break the stalemate. 

“No, not at all… it’s just very reminiscent of something I’ve heard before…” You turn away as his gaze follows. 

A few slow strides take you back to the corner, figure just about to disappear into the shadows engulfing the halls before you abruptly turn around. 

“Goodnight, Alhaitham.”

“Goodnight.” He mirrors. 

Alhaitham marks today as another successful trail of correcting a bad routine. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

Adequate amounts of sunlight, regular meals, and coffee grounds mysteriously find themselves placed on the highest shelf in the cabinets. All the factors were in place to regulate a disastrous sleep schedule. 

Yet when Alhaitham checks your device activity, the data points remain scattered about the twilight hours of the morning. A true paradox.

Amongst the Summer afternoon rays seeping in through the windows, Alhaitham was tasked with tidying up the kitchen. An obscure cabinet in a corner was the last section before he could deem the request complete. 

There wasn’t anything in particular about the cabinet, it’s space housing an assortment of various vitamins. That was until his hand brushed against a plastic container which didn’t conform to the typical shape of vitamin bottles. 

Grasping it within his hand, he pulls the irregular bottle out from the murky depths of a cabinet and out into the sunlight where its identity unravels: a prescription bottle.

Barbiturates sedatives, colloquially referred to as sleeping pills, are used in treatments for insomnia. 

It looks like Alhaitham has stumbled upon the answer to the paradox printed on the faded label of a neglected bottle. 

Frankly, this revelation wasn’t all that surprising. He had long suspected it from the symptoms and behaviors you display daily. But it’s always good to support a hypothesis with evidence. 

Studying the container in his hand further, his gaze narrows as it hones in a corner of the label. In particular, the date printed along it. This bottle expired two years ago. 

It’s recommended that every civilian visits the Bimarstan annually for a checkup, in a nation where healthcare is free and accessible, this typically isn’t an issue.

Once more, you stood alone as a data point outside of the cluster. 

Stepping into the living room, he finds you tinkering with the network router again. A few more steps and then he was by your side. 

“When was your last medical check-up?” Cycling through his memory, Alhaitham failed to recall the last time you had a medical assessment.

Your body halts momentarily, before glancing up at his beryl eyes.

“I’m relatively healthy, there’s no reason for an assessment.” 

“The Department of Health recommends annual checkups at the very least.” 

“I don’t need to go to the Bimarstan,” you declare. 

A weight pulled down at the corners of his lips, creating what is called a frown. An expression he observed many times upon your lips whenever you label him as ‘stubborn’. He might finally grasp why you do such a thing.

Stubbornness isn’t such a good trait when you’re on the other side of it. Fortunately, he anticipated this. 

“In accordance with the law, you do.” The contents of the plastic bottle rattle as he reveals it, drawing your gaze toward it. 

“The regulation behind your prescription requires that all expired medication be brought back to the Bimarstan for proper disposal.” Denunciation behind his glass irises. 

Lips pressing into a thin line, you advert your eyes back to the blinking router in front of you. Each second of silence announces your defeat.

Human actions are limited by a set of laws and they must operate within the bounds, not too different from restrictions imposed on machines.

The consequences looming just a step away discourage most mortals from crossing the threshold. 

“I’ll schedule an appointment for noon next week, making use of your saved paid time off is recommended, does that work?” He prompts. 

“Alright.” 

A weight is alleviated from his lips, triggering the corners to curl upwards. A common response to the accomplishment of a challenge, he understands now why a mortal body does it. 

Perhaps a doctor's visit has been long overdue, foggy recollections of if the curtains were shut the night before and if a bag of coffee was accidentally misplaced. Poor memory is one of the repercussions of sleep deprivation, you’re aware of this fact. 

Healthcare in Sumeru is highly accredited for its accessibility and quality, the Bimarstan being the standard many hospitals around Teyvat strive to be. To have such a thing so accessible to you, it’s baffling to many how you failed to utilize such privilege.

You had your reasons. 

Many of these prominent doctors and diligent nurses were once classmates. A few vaguely familiar faces from across a lecture hall of some general course.

Faces you’ve passed slumped over textbooks and piles of notes in the late hours of the House of Daena, their dark circles matching yours.

Faces that graduated alongside you as celebratory cheers rang out with caps littering the air.

It’d be strange to meet someone you attended the Akademiya with once again in an examination room. 

After their years of medical school and surviving residency, you’re certain they’re more than qualified at their jobs. However, it doesn’t change the course of averted eyes and superficial pleasantries.

You breathe out a deep sigh as the receptionist calls out for you, informing you that you could head down to a private room. 

Leaving your seat in the waiting room, you do as the receptionist instructs, exiting the lively environment into a placid hallway. The receptionist’s face didn’t evoke any familiarity, nor did the doctor’s name listed on your appointment.

Many of these prominent doctors and diligent nurses were once classmates, but not all. 

Candidly, there’s only one classmate who you’d avert paths with within this establishment. In a hospital as large as the Bimarstan, the average number of staff ranges from around 5,000.

The odds of encountering a particular face out of a pool of thousands is nonzero. 

A polite knock draws you from your thoughts, your eyes travel toward the door of the private room you entered not too long ago as the handle slowly turns. Thick oak swinging ajar to reveal the figure on the other side. 

“Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Rana, I’ll be taking care of you today.” 

You return her greeting with a courteous smile and nod, statistics in your favor, the odds were nonzero but still a minuscule likelihood. 

The checkup was rather uneventful, a few questions were asked as she pulled up your medical records. You pulled out the expired medication for her to examine and deal with.

Vitals checked and documented as the appointment drew to a close, a notepad and pen in her hands as she turned to you. 

“Overall your health seems fine, although…” she trails off.

You could feel the weight of her stare upon the discoloration ever-present under your eyes, no layer of concealer to cover them. You could already guess her next sentence. 

“Would you like a refill of your prescription?”

“No, it’s fine.” It’d just be another bottle to be neglected in the back of a cabinet. 

“I see…” This time her eyes move back and forth between your sitting figure and a clock hanging in its place on a wall. 

“I… have to process some paperwork, could you wait here for a few minutes?” A polite smile graced her lips. 

“Of course.” You mimic her actions. 

A day requested off to account for a drawn-out appointment, to account for a scenario like this his foresight analysis is making great progress.

You should take note of that once you return home, a daily log still needs to be updated to track consistent progress after all. It’s technically your day off, but you’re free to decide what to do with it.

As you pondered a checklist to complete once you got in front of your desk the door creaks open. 

“Oh? That was fast, Dr. Rana-” The sentence dying upon the tip of your tongue as your lips press into a firm line. 

The odds of encountering one familiar face out of a pool of thousands is a small nonzero number, however, if that number was increased to three faces out of those thousands, the chances increase.

How unfortunate, even with such small odds, you managed to come face-to-face with the three people you wanted to avoid the most. 

They file into the room and the last one closes the door behind himself as your eyes scan over them. Starting with the ebony-haired man in the center, Tighnari, a doctor at the Bimarstan. It makes sense for a doctor to be in a hospital on this fine day, but not for a lawyer, or an architect.

Four former classmates gathered in an examination room, how strange. 

Still, you’ve grown enough to adapt to such peculiar situations. Practiced corporate smiles and pleasantries to navigate this stagnant air. 

“Cyno, Tighnari, Kaveh, it’s a surprise to see you all here. It’s been a while.” 

“A while is a bit of an understatement…” Kaveh is the first of the trio to converse, offering you a small smile. 

You return it with one that didn’t reach your eyes. The rhythmic ticks of a clock fill the silence, shifting eyes anticipating and preparing for the next phase of this impromptu reunion. The doctor finally decides to speak up. 

“You haven’t been sleeping enough, have you.” Tighnari examining your under eyes. 

“I never sleep enough, you know that.” Of course you never slept enough.

How could you sleep when the threat of falling behind the geniuses sitting around a library table was always looming over you? Geniuses who easily grasp the concepts and theories that elude you. How could you lay in bed when you had to catch up to them? 

“So, why this sudden get-together?” Impatience rising inside you with each passing tick of the clock. 

Dropping the formalities and social pleasantries, you watch as another round of shifting eyes passes. You already had an inkling of the answer they’re still hesitating to address. Finally, your former Kshahrewar senior responds for the group. 

“We’re worried about you, you haven’t been in contact for a while now.” Kaveh’s voice was low and mellow, you could tell he took extra effort in marking it such. 

The same low and mellow tone he’d speak to you with as he tried to explain your mistakes on an exam, the tone which accompanied the pity in his gaze toward you as he pointed out each miscalculation on your paper. The tone made you ball your fist up on your lap.

“I’m fine, just busy.” 

“Please don’t start with that again.” The blond sighs, sympathy still ever-present in his eyes. 

“I’m just busy with work, as are all of you, we’re no longer students with minimal responsibilities,” you retort. 

The days when a group of friends could gather around a table for hours on end, half bantering and half studying, basking in the Spring warmth streaming in from the grand windows of the House of Daena have long passed. 

“We all have busy careers, that’s true, but not to the extent of being a detriment to our health.” With a sigh, Tighnari began his health lecture. 

Expounding upon the negative consequences of a poor work-life balance. Shifting your focus instead on tuning out this lecture you didn’t sign up for. 

“You stopped listening… of course,” a deep sigh concludes the doctor’s sermon. 

Ah, you’ve been found out. The polite smile straining itself upon your lips, legs itching to walk out of this restrictive space. 

“Here, it’s a contact of mine, I recommend you give her a call-” 

“It’s fine.” You promptly push away the business card just as Tighnari presents it to you, a thread of patience stretched thinly. 

“She can help you through-” he continues. 

“It’s fine, my research is just busy-”

“This isn’t healthy.” 

“It’s my research.” A sharp undertone leaks through your professional demeanor. 

“And this is why we’re worried about you!” Kaveh’s patience was the first snap. 

Then again, your senior might have been the light of Kshahrewar and a praised genius, but he was never the best at handling his emotional regulation. 

“Look around, don’t you see how concerned we are about you? No returned texts or calls and no answers at a doorbell for years, only ever talking about this research. It’s as if you-” he stops himself, rudy eyes meeting with your cold stare. 

He knew better than to finish that sentence, you knew that he knew he shouldn’t. 

“We’re worried about you, this research… it’s not good for you.” Tighnari interjects, attempting to shift the course of this intervention. 

Of course, when the development of an android was announced, there wasn’t just discourse amongst the general public, but debates raged throughout academia as well. How unfortunate it is that friends now stand at polar ends. 

“It’s my research,” you reaffirm. 

This research was why you got your doctorate, it’s why you have a job, it’s why you have a house. This research has entangled itself into the very fibers of your life. It was where a predetermined path had led you. 

The room fills once more with a lull, nothing but deep sighs and ever-shifting eyes. Neither side is able to get through to the other. Typical of most academic debates. Still, it seems they weren’t ready to end the intervention so soon. 

“Listen… we’re worried for you, I… I know it’s been very difficult these past years.” Your senior takes a step closer. 

That same sympathetic timbre brings a vile taste to your tongue. You stay silent in favor of pushing the bitterness down as it tries to claw its way through your polite façade.

“I… know what it must have been like for you, It’s been hard on all of us. I’ve experienced something similar, so I can tell you-”

“I’m sorry, Kaveh. But tragedies shouldn’t be compared, because they’ll never have a fair comparison.” You end the conversation. 

Just like how it isn’t fair to compare stars who were their own centers of gravity with a mere rock at the mercy of an orbital pull to give it direction. 

Even when you sat at the same table as them, you were never at the same level as them. Families with academic prestige, minds blessed with wisdom, and the freedom to pursue a self-chosen path. You could only ever look up at what you lacked.

“Your worlds kept on spinning, your lives move on with the change of the season. But not mine, mine stopped long ago.” It’s not fair to compare a rock to a star, from their silence, you assume they knew that too. 

“I’m now taking the initiative to make it start again, don’t interfere.” Your valediction to the geniuses whom you couldn’t live up to. 

It’s just the nature of this world, geniuses walked their own paths while others took another. Geniuses can’t understand those others, just as others can’t understand geniuses.

This doctor’s appointment has gone on for long enough. Gathering your belongings, you stride past them, eyes refusing to meet.

Your hand pried open the door, pausing just at the threshold as Cyno finally breaks his silence. 

“Is this truly what you want? To defy the edicts of finality with research?”

Ah, what an inquiry. Perhaps it’s just like a lawyer to ask such a thing. 

“Is my research in violation of any laws in Sumeru?” You refuse to meet his scarlet condemnation. 

“As of now, no.”

“Then I don’t see how this involves you, there’s no place for personal biases and mortals in the judicial system.” Crossing the threshold, the door creaks close behind you as hurried steps echo through the sterile hall. 

This was a mistake, you should’ve never come here. Your body was fine, your vitals are fine, you’re fine. There wasn’t a point in wasting time here, you needed to leave this place filled with faces offering you condolences. Exiting the narrow hall back into the dim murmurs that fill the waiting room, the last thread of patience starts to splinter. 

From the muddled chatter, a bright shrill rang above them all. Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source. Even in a sea of passing faces and colors, it didn’t take you long to find it. 

A young girl grins a smile with a few gaps as she stretches her arms out to her sides, mimicking an airplane. A young father helpless to his daughter’s giggles, hands secured around her legs as he lets her soar on his shoulders. Next to his side was a giggling mother, watching with amusement and endearment. 

A private moment hidden amongst the waiting room, you look away. You should return to the private walls of your house before that thread inevitably breaks. Sliding glass doors part to grant you exit from this suffocating cage.

Like a speck of dust drifting in the breeze, you disappear into the bustling crowd of Sumeru City. The push and pull of strangers further you along your route, even as your mind drifts off. 

With modern advancements in aerospace engineering, the chances of a plane crashing have decreased significantly, with recent statistics citing only 1 in about 11 million. A 0.00001% chance, a nonzero chance.

How long ago since the last time you’ve been inside an airport? What were your last memories of an airport? Do you remember?

–----

“Are you sure you can’t come with us?” Your mother’s thumb traced over your hand. 

“It’s a bit too late for me to pack, we’re already at the airport, Mom.” 

“Don’t you want to visit Fontaine? Didn’t you say they had really advanced things there?” She didn’t let go of your hand. 

“I’m busy with my thesis.” You were still in the midst of getting a Ph.D., the very thing they demanded of you. 

“But I planned this trip so we could spend time together.” Your mother tried to get you to meet her gaze.

You adverted your eyes. So this is how they spent their recent financial flexibility. With a scholarship and research-assistant salary, you had enough to cover the tuition by yourself, relieving your parents of that burden. But to get that scholarship and salary, you had to pay with your time. 

“I’m busy, mom.” You freed your hand from her grasp. 

“But-”

“Stop it dear, she’s not going to change her mind.” Your father’s gruff voice stopped your mother. 

“There’s no point in trying to change the mind of an ungrateful child.” 

You felt the weight of his disappointed stare upon you, a frown formed on your lips as they pressed together. This was a sudden trip announced to you just a few days prior, you didn’t have time to accompany them. But they didn’t seem to care.

Of course they didn’t. Your parents only ever saw the grades, the diplomas, the results. But they never bothered to see the anguish you endured to give it to them. 

“Enjoy your trip.” Words barely passed your clenched teeth as you turned around and walked away. 

An ungrateful planet ignored the calls from their mother in their first successful act of defiance. Trying to break away from their gravitational pull. 

–----

That was your last memory of the airport.

Those were the last memories two parents had of their child.

The child they sacrificed their time, labor, and freedom to build a better life for. Your parent’s last memories were that of an ungrateful child, maybe it was the last scene they thought of as a plane was swallowed by the salty depths. 

Humans, defined by their curiosity, will always yearn to reach as high as they can. Tales warning those to never fly too close to the ever-bright star ignored in the pursuit of radiant curiosity. Your parents were no different. 

They ever had the chance to travel, too busy trying to provide food in front of you. So when the burdening weight was lifted, naturally they wanted to stretch their wings to see the views they never got to in their youth. They always wanted to touch the sky, to reach for the moon.

There’s a proverb often told to young minds: ‘Shoot for the moon, even if you fall, you can still land on a star’. 

This saying is riddled with inaccuracies. The stars are much further away than the serene moon. Beckoning the curious eyes to look at them, for curious hands to yearn for them. 

But once the glue on those wings are melted away by selfish rays, what is there to catch them besides the cold unfeeling ocean? Did they sink from the memories of an ungrateful child weighing on them? 

You should’ve been on that plane. 

The familiar features of your neighborhood come into view, the doors of your house are just ahead. Just hold on, don’t let that thread snap just yet, just a few more steps. 

Tighnari had his father and mother working right alongside him at the Bimarstan.

Cyno had regular visits to his adoptive father, and sometimes his adoptive sister Lisa visits too.

Kaveh had reconnected with his mother overseas, now having a few younger half-siblings who jump to greet him every time he visits.

Lives still spinning and warm in the light of their brilliance. What do you have? 

A job in a career picked out for you. Paychecks rotting in a bank account with no one to pay back. A spacious and hallow house with no one to reside in its empty walls, only displaying a doctorate you loathed.

A stray rock who lost her stars. Wandering without their gravitational pull in the vacuum of a lonely darkness. Just what do you have?

“Alhaitham,” you call out just as the front door slams behind you. 

You could hear his steady steps approaching along the wooden floor, but it’s too slow so your frenzied steps close in the distance between your two forms. The thread gives in and snapping as the recoil proliferates through your body. 

Without a greeting, no prompt, or prior warning your grasp wrinkles his once pristine button-down.

The bitter tears you held back now soak into the fabric as even viler cries choke your voice. The shame of displaying such a sight in front of a being whose eyes don’t produce moisture is long abandoned. In the walls of this hallow house, your broken sobs echo off. 

He stands still in the middle of the hall, the low hum of his motor resonating in your ears as you hide your face deeper into the synthetic skin of his chest. But that’s fine, the whir of motor is enough of a substitute for a heartbeat. 

Alhaitham stands in front of the reflection staring back at him, he had undocked himself from the charging port not too long ago. Tracing over the synthetic material stretched over his imitation of a collarbone as his mind wanders.

There aren’t enough chemicals in tears to make them corrosive, nor were they at the temperature to boil.

So why does it burn?

Trailing his fingertips where your tears soaked onto his skin, recollections of the searing sensation that afflicted the area with each sorrowful drop. Choking sobs which he caused. 

He failed to consider all causal factors to assess the situation fully and failed to appraise all possible alternatives. He failed to make the right decision, and he let harm befall you because of it. It’s strange, there’s nothing wrong with his eyes, yet he finds it hard to look in the mirror. 

Teal gaze scrutinizes the arms, legs, and body in the reflection. The reflection in front of him had all the identifiable components of a man, but they’re all synthetic.

From the tips of his sliver hair to the vast expanse of his skin, they’re all made from high-quality silicon parts supported by a metal frame. An engineered body with a motor in place of a heart. 

Maybe that’s why he failed to make the right decision, he had no heart to weigh in on the ruling. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

The android is faced with a new dilemma. 

 From the entrance of the kitchen, Alhaitham watches you. A spoon absentmindedly swirling in the cup of coffee on the counter in front of you. Your thoughts wander elsewhere, the rays of a setting sun unable to light up dull spaced-out eyes.

He’s observed your condition for the past week, no hint of improvement. 

A new dilemma he must decipher, the urgency rising with each passing second as the spoon continues. 

The lull of the evening air was shattered by the sound of a porcelain cup meeting the tiled floor. Jagged pieces and coffee spilled all along the cold surface. Listlessly your eyes move to access the mess on the floor, spoon still grasped in your hand. 

“Ah.” That was all your lips could say. 

Limbs slowed with lethargy, you crouch down closer to the broken pieces scattered about. Bare hand reaching out to grab the sharp edges unthinkingly. A firm grasp prevents your touch from the ragged porcelain. 

“It’s dangerous, I’ll handle it.” Alhaitham brings your hand further away from the hazard. 

Your aloof eyes trail past him toward a wall where he could hear a clock tick before they returned to his resolute stare. 

“It’s past 5 p.m.” 

“A hazard has appeared in the environment, it’s protocol that I clear it.” His rehearsed response. 

“Oh… alright.” Limplessness returning to your wrist within his hold, body too lethargic to object. 

With you seated at the kitchen table away from the jagged edges that could potentially pierce your skin, Alhaitham begins gathering the pieces. As your aloof eyes wander about the monitor of your laptop, his mind ponders a dilemma. 

It’s often said that guilt is held in the heart. In novels and human anecdotes, it's been described to him as a burdensome heaviness that sinks the heart.

A sensation reminiscent of drowning in icy water. A sensation only perceivable through a beating mortal heart. 

Alhaitham is an android, he’s aware of this. A being with silicon skin encasing a metal frame. A motor in place of where a mortal heart would be.

So what is this weight burdening his chest? 

An internal diagnostic returned no errors and no reports of any damage or unusual occurrence within his systems. Yet, a heaviness brewed deep inside his chest, its mass increasing each sunrise and fall, with every passing moment the riddle was left unanswered. 

How could a motor hold guilt? How could the weight of judgment manifest itself in the absence of an organic heart that beats instead of whirs? How could an inorganic object possibly suffer guilt?

All the mora poured into his creation, all the hours of research contributed to his algorithms, and all the texts he’s scanned through were all for naught. The pinnacle of scientific and mechanical development couldn’t solve a simple conundrum.

The floorboard creaks under the weight of his steady strides as he moves about the corridor, the soft swishes of a broom coinciding with each step.

Dust had begun to settle in the crevices of the home, it’s about time that he took up the mantle that was supposed to be his. 

Could an explanation of this weight be the backlog of tasks and responsibilities he had pushed off? Chores he ignored in favor of browsing the contents of a library? A burden he selfishly passed onto your shoulders.

Maybe after he completes the tasks that were supposed to be assigned to him he could clear the cache, then this weight in his chest would subside. 

The bristles of the broom scratch against a door, the light force setting the frame ajar further. Revealing the dust-coated scene in front of him. A boundary he was restricted from.

Alhaitham concluded that this small corner of the house must hold some sentimental value to you, thus it’s best for him to not disturb it. 

Just as he goes to close the door, Alhaitham scans around the environment identifying the shape of a journal tucked away under an old table.

He’s not permitted to enter, but all books belong in the library. Spines sorted along wooden selves, not on a dusty floor.

An exception shall be granted, setting aside the broom, he steps in to collect the neglected book. 

While crouching down and gathering the covers into his hold, a different gleam catches his eye. The light reflects off its glass surface and highlights the dust particles dancing in the still air.

With his free hand, he picks it up, teal eyes running along the glass orb. After a moment of processing the object, he successfully identifies it as a toy.

A popular model to display an artificial starry night among blank walls. Alhaitham turns to follow a trail of cut-out stars pasted all along the walls. The soft glow of their plastic shapes subdued by the brilliance of the afternoon sun streaming in. 

Were you interested in stars? Glancing out the window, he discerns the murky shapes of buildings in Sumeru City off in the distance. 

This house is located in the suburbs away from the noisy clammer of the city streets and traffic. However, where the sound waves couldn’t travel didn’t mean the sky around this quiet neighborhood was uncontaminated by activities in the city.

When the sun retreats away for rest, the city doesn’t follow suit.

Through the power of fluorescent lights in street lamps and office buildings, humans created their own artificial daylight to continue the bustle of their lives. Light which polluted the night sky and stole the radiance away from her stars. 

Unable to enjoy the natural tapestry of the night, did you substitute the company of stars with toy imitations?

Turning the orb in his hand, his eyes notice the signs of damage along the projector. Perhaps that’s why it sat abandoned in this room.

He’s stayed in this restricted space long enough. Carefully closing the door behind him, hands still full. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

“I’ve uncovered a strange object, my software isn’t able to identify it.” Alhaitham stands just outside the open office door. 

Sparing him a glance away from your monitor, your brows pinched together in confusion at his sudden report during the late hours of the night. 

“A strange object?” You inquire again. 

“Yes, I’ve scanned over it a few times but no results are returning.” 

“Huh…” 

Teals watching you press a finger against your pursed lips in concentration. A habit of yours often displayed when amid contemplation. After a few breaths, your eyes meet his as you give your reply. 

“Well, where is this object?” 

“Come with me.” 

Along the wooden floor, two pairs of steps tap rhythmically in time with one another as they traverse the hallway stopping at the living room where the mysterious object resides.

Approaching the coffee table in the center, Alhaitham steps to the side to present it as it sits upon the polished surface. 

“This… is what’s been giving your software issues?” The quirk returned to your brow as you cast him a glance. 

Alhaitham simply nobs as you approach the object closer. Kneeling beside it, your eyes examine the familiar device. 

“It’s a planetarium projector, it projects the scene of a night sky, in other words: just a toy.” 

He hums in acknowledgment, carefully treading toward the light switch in the corner as the toy holds the gaze of your eyes. 

“It should be thrown away… It’s broken after all.” Your tone dismissive, yet your hand caresses the broken toy with tenderness. 

“It’s not,” he replies. 

Perking your head up, you turn to face him with that same furrow between your brows. 

“What do you mean, Alhaitham-”

He flicks the switch, plunging the room in a blanket of darkness earning a squeak of surprise from you. The device whirs as it awakens, painting the blank tapestry with a scene of the night sky with its shimmering lights.

The vibrant shapes of stars and planets take their place along the living room wall, creating a private galaxy that surrounds you. 

Your sentence remains unfinished upon your tongue as your eyes take in the display encompassing you. The nostalgic glimmer of the night and her stars twinkle in the reflection of your irises as he settles down beside you. 

“Did… did you fix it?”

He hums in response. 

It only took a bit of study and careful tinkering to restore the worn pieces and gears. A simple effort was all it took to allow the projector to shine its recreation of the stars. Returning a light that he hasn’t seen in a while. 

“Thank you, Alhaitham,” you breathe out, lips curling up softly and eyes still enraptured by the stars. 

He doesn’t respond this time as his teal gaze focuses on your expression, on the smile that’s been missing for some time. It’s strange, this sensation manifesting in his chest. He thought if he was able to restore the light to your eyes, then that heaviness brewed deep inside his chest would clear. But it remained. 

His system unable to express nor suppress the heaviness which bubbled up like seafoam rising to the surface.

The sensation was different than it was before. Instead of a mass that weighed him down to the bottom of a cold depth, it was more reminiscent of a warm ebb. Washing over every limb of his as he studied the curvature of your lips and the glimmer of your eyes. 

Another internal diagnostic wasn’t necessary, for Alhaitham had reached his epiphany to a conundrum. An engineered body may lack a heart, but not a conscious.

A consciousness that acts like a vessel collecting the accumulation of that heaviness. A heaviness that couldn’t be called ‘guilt’. 

No, perhaps it has always been something other than ‘guilt’.

It only took until the vessel overflowed for an engineered body to recognize it for what it truly was.

There’s something strange happening to your Android. Reviewing the diagnostic reports of his systems returned nothing out of the ordinary. So why did you suspect something to be wrong? Perhaps you could call it intuition. 

Or perhaps it’s the lack of books strewn about the house. Or the initiation of tasks without a prompt. Or that night a living room was filled with the radiance of tiny dots along empty walls. Something strange is happening. 

“Alhaitham, what’s taking you so long in the kitchen?” You poke your head out from the kitchen doorway, sights honing in on your android currently scrutinizing the recipe book in his hands. 

Perhaps there’s a defect in the print, if the black ink isn’t contrasting enough with the beige paper, which time has faded, it does cause issues with optical character recognition. Maybe the past splatters of sauces and oils upon the aged book were too much of a hurdle.

“Chef Mao is a renowned cook, but his recipes are vague. He suggests a pinch of salt to enhance the flavor of this dish. I’ve calculated that Chef Mao has a 19.3 cm hand length which entails that his ‘pinches’ measure around 0.356 grams. However, he said to add Jueyun Chili oil until fragrant, I’m still processing the data I’ve collected on his olfactory system, the calculations will take around five minutes.” He turns back to the stove.

“Alhaitham.”

“Yes?”

“Please put down the book and get out of the kitchen.” A bold choice of words from you.

“Was my response unsatisfactory?” His teal eyes land on you. 

“It’s just that I’m hungry.” 

“This dish should be complete in around 90 minutes accounting for the other-”

“No,” you interrupt. 

He studies you for a while, accessing the situation and the unfinished dish still simmering on the stove. After a few breaths, he returns a response. 

“Shall I order delivery from Lambad’s Tavern?” His hand switches off the fire.

He conceded. The notoriously stubborn and fickle android conceded to your whims. There was definitely something wrong. You pace into the kitchen, getting close to observe his teal irises for any sign of possible flaws. 

“Alhaitham, you’ve been behaving strangely as of late, did you encounter something?” 

He returns your gaze, teal reflecting off your irises as you continue to study him, and him you. His silence only amounts to the deepening furrow between your brows as your assessment of his frame fails to identify any impairments. 

“Why have you been behaving like this?” You prompt again. 

“Have I neglected my responsibilities for so long that fulfilling them has become a cause for concern?” He finally responds. 

“Now’s not the time for jests,” you huff. 

“From what I’ve reviewed on human behavior, it’s not strange to want to care for the person I love.” A blunt statement. 

From the window, the moonlight peeks upon the strange phenomenon occurring. Two bodies remain motionless in a silent lull.

One pair of placate teal eyes and one pair of bewildered eyes too lost in each other to mind the witness intruding on this private moment. Words finally conquer in your brain, ending the quietude.

“Refrain from saying nonsensical words.” Your lips press together into a thin line. 

“Do you believe such a thing is beyond my capabilities?” 

You couldn’t respond, or more accurately, you simply didn’t know how to. A being without a heart, a being who lacked the necessary chemicals to create the cocktail known as emotions. How is it possible? 

“I have no heart, I’m aware. But I have a conscience.” He must’ve deduced the exact thoughts racing through your head. 

Your brows only furrow further as you wait for him to continue his explanation.

“Every person should have something that they believe in and hold on to from beginning to end. Otherwise, it's easy to succumb to the vicissitudes of life and find yourself being led astray.” Taking note of the glistening shine beginning to pool in your wide eyes. 

“And I believe that I love you.” His sincere gaze never leaves your form. 

Not a single sentence is able to form upon your tongue. An expression he couldn’t decipher upon your features. Perhaps his statement was too long-winded, an overly complicated explanation. Maybe a simpler one could convey his message better. 

You’re the first to break eye contact, choosing to watch the tiles on the floor over him. He remains firm in his stance, not faltering once as the seconds turn into minutes. Your shoulders rise as your lungs take a deep breath. 

“… say that again… please.” Words just barely above a whisper.

He could only bend to your whims. 

“I love you.”

Your head lifts up to face him, your hands hesitating momentarily as they cup his cool cheeks, fingers trembling. Something glimmering in your eyes as droplets escape your lashes.

This time, Alhaitham wipes them away before they could trail down your cheeks. 

You did it. All those long hours, all those reports and trials, all of these years sacrificed to research. You’ve created a complete human consciousness with your bare hands. One that understands sorrow, joy, and love.

You succeeded. 

However, in this moment as you peer into the teal eyes of your Magnum opus, as he reflects the endearment in your own. The notion of reporting this revolutionary milestone in the development of artificial intelligence never crossed your mind once. 

Instead, all you did in this moment was pull his face down closer. Closing the distance between the two of you as your lips felt his for the first time. Warm skin against a soft imitation, merging until a lukewarm temperature formed between their touch.

A gentle, yet longing connection of two lips. 

Only when your lungs protest for air did you pull away, hands still encompassing his face as he reveals his teal eyes back from behind closed lids. Eyes reflecting one another as a tender lull settles between you. This time, his whisper mingles with the soft intermission. 

“Was that a kiss?” 

Such an innocent question, one you couldn’t help but giggle at as you nod your head.

“Could you show me again?” His hands found purchase on your hips, beckoning you closer to his frame. 

You surrender to the call, pressing against him as your lips reconnect. A rhythm soon settled in place as they pressed into each other deeper. One that was interrupted once more by your lung's protest for oxygen. At a mere kiss, your mind ceased to remember how to breathe. 

“Again.” A baritone voice just above the hush of your pants.

And so your lips meet thrice, this time in an all-consuming embrace. A hesitant brush of a tongue against your lips, requesting access. Your hands move up to caress his soft locks as you grant it. Latching onto each other as the shroud consumed you both wholly.

A beautifully feverish delirium. The line in the sand that separated a person from a thing jumbled until the outline disappeared. A singularity, an amorous occurrence. 

He releases your lips, the lust in your eyes reflected in his own. Giving a moment for your mind to return to attention as his lips brush away the fading traces of wetness down your cheeks. 

“A kitchen isn’t a suitable setting for such an activity,” he whispers next to your ear. 

Baritone trailing a line of goosebumps up your neck and you nod in response, burying your face into the crook of his neck which fit you perfectly.

Slowly his hands travel down your hips, awaiting your confirmation for the next step just as you permitted it. In one fluid transition, his arm wraps around the back of your legs, effortlessly lifting you off the ground as your arms envelop his neck. 

Steady steps pad along a wooden hallway, the hinges of your bedroom singing their welcome as the two of you advance to a more suitable setting. Depositing you upon cool sheets, fabric wrinkling as your body settles in. The arms still wrapped around his neck pull him closer as this time your legs join in luring him closer to your warmth. 

It’s strange, is it possible for his lips to crave yours? The light of the moon reflected off the glossiness coating them. He delves back in as his body hovers over yours, unwilling to be apart from the softness it yearned for.

The soft flesh of your writhing body against his firm hands, feeling up your heated skin he slips under your shirt. Bunching up the fabric as he explores more of the new expanse of skin. A lovely whimper vibrates against his lips at his actions, spurring him to continue. 

Tracing over the outline of your bra, his fingers creep under. Kneading the plushness of your breast, feeling your nipple beginning to perk up against his ministration. An itch stretching from the pits of his desire, a curious craving to witness the sight concealed away.

Disjoining your lips as a string of saliva connects them, he pushes your shirt further up. All the while your hands grasp onto the edges of the fabric and push them back down. Bemusing his beryl eyes as they catch how the tips of your ears were aflame, a peculiar display of bashfulness. 

Well, a sight he’s witnessed on a few occasions. Such as when you’d leave the shower wrapped in a towel just to cross paths with him. A timidity that gradually faded away as you grew more confident in the privacy restrictions in place, ensuring that the secrets of this home remained in the confines of its walls.

So why is this shyness making its reappearance now?

“Are you uncomfortable anywhere?” His words ghost over the shell of your vulnerable ear. 

Causing you to jolt and pull down the edges of your shirt to cover the bottom of your loungewear shorts. 

“No, it’s just been a while…” Your sentence trails off, eyes still focusing everywhere but him. 

Ah, a mere string of words, yet they tempted something from the depths. An oppressive sentiment, one that made the grip upon your soft flesh grow firmer. He’s yet to have accessed the entirety of your figure, a view still denied to him by your taut shirt, but another entity had. 

There was a myriad of questions he could use to interrogate. However, as his teal gaze observe how your teeth lightly tug at the bottom of your plush lips in fidgety. Alhaitham devises a much kinder scheme. 

It’s fine, he can overwrite them with his touches. 

“What can I do to gain permission?” A question asked as a line of kisses press their way into your fervent skin, goosebumps following each one. 

Biting down to muffle the bashful moans into whimpers you burrow your face into the plushness of the pillow. Alhaitham continues to soothe kisses over the fabric of your shirt until they finally reach your quivering hands still stretching the hem.

His hand encloses one of yours, bringing it away from the fabric refuge to press his lips against your knuckle. An action that made you peak back at him, meeting a patient gaze awaiting you. 

Another soft press of his lips against your knuckle in silent request, at last, got you to release the hem, allowing him to push the fabric up to expose what was hidden from him. Permitting him to explore the sultry expanses with a wake of kisses, your hand finding reprieve entangling themselves with his. 

His free hand slipping behind your back, he unfastens the clasp of your bra with a slight tug, a relatively simple task when you learn how such a contraption works.

His grasp untangles from yours as he pushes the useless articles of clothing off your body, you raise your arms over your head to aid in the process.

He rewards you with another flurry of kisses in the valley of your breast as his large hands encase the softness of your breast. A motion that made your legs pull him closer. 

Your touches dance along his frame as well, unable to differentiate the difference between skin and a recreation. More whimpers leave your lips at his actions, prodding something in him to do more. To steal more of those sinful breaths from you, something in his coding thirsting for more.

Sliding his hands back down the curves of your body, he hooks his fingers over the rim of your shorts and panties pulling them down. Glass eyes zeroing in on the glistening thread that linked your panties and slit. Proof of arousal, your body awakening its cardinal impulses.

Could the signals transmitted through his system be classified in the same way?

He wants to investigate further. Moving his face lower to inspect the saturated folds that beckoned him. 

Only to be denied by the gates of your knees pressing together, as your body curls up in fortification. Denying him the privilege of satiating his curiosity is like denying a man water in an ocean of sand. Evaluating how your eyes were squeezed together in shame, he had foresaw this.

“Mmm, there seems to be an incongruity, do you want me to stop?” Large hands grasping at your plush thighs, but making no move to part them. 

Your head responds with a shake, but your knees still locked together. Your attention centering on him bashfully. 

“Then guide me, tell me how to please you,” he proposes hands soothing your tense legs.

Utilizing the skill he had accessed a few moments ago once more, gracing your skin with his lips awaiting your response. The tension in your legs loosens with each kiss, and gradually a fissure forms in the barrier of your defense, knees parting.

However, he doesn’t cross the threshold, no, he restrained himself from indulging too soon. Half-ladden eyes peering up to connect with yours. 

“Well, tell me. What do you want me to do?” 

A pout makes its appearance on your face, but what could you do? It is your responsibility to shepherd him since the beginning, to have him step over the line dividing an android and man. Best to take on your duty, no?

Parting your legs further, cheeks ablaze and eyes adverted as you allow his teal gaze to absorb the uninterrupted view of your dripping arousal. Your hands aiding as they thwart the urge of your bashful legs’s urge to preserve your dignity. 

“Please use your mouth and hands,” you prompt, face pressing deeper into one side of a pillow under his stare.

Alhaitham encroaches closer to your glistening folds, his large hands supporting each one of your thighs. Approaching the details of your honeypot in front of him, concentrating on the little nub which lures him closer. He presses a light peck against the nub as your body flinches. 

“Like this?” 

Plush lips pressed tightly, you respond with timid shakes. 

Returning back, his lips delving deeper this time, an audible pop when he pulls away from your taunted clit. Feeling the muscles tighten in your legs. 

“Like that?” Mirth leaked through his baritone words. 

Your head shakes with more vigor. 

“Then how about this?” This time his tongue takes action, dipping into the center of your honeypot before flicking up at your nub. 

You return a restrained moan, teal eyes picking up on the twitch of your folds. It seems that he’s uncovered the proper procedures. Peering up from between your legs at the harsh rises of your chest by rush breaths as your eyes remained sealed behind lashes, he decided to impart some mercy. Taking the initiative to shoulder a bit of your duty. 

Retracing his steps, his tongue repeating its previous motions of lapping up the nectar that slipped out from your folds. Always ending each strip up your slit with a flick to your sensitive nub.

Your hands abandon their post in favor of snaring themselves in his ashen trestles as your back begins to arch off the sheets. Thighs beginning to enclose around his head, yet it didn’t deter the vigor in his motions one bit. 

If anything, it spurred them on. The added pressure of your legs pulling him against your weeping folds assisted him in his quest. Testing which pattern made your body quiver, calculating the pace of his tongue's flicks made your hips buck up.

Alhaitham takes notice of how your greedy hole seems to be clenching down every time a tongue dipped in, you did request for his mouth and fingers after all. 

A finger begins to prod at your entrance, coating itself in the overflowing slick as it traces the puckering entry. Your whines increase in volume as your greed escalates, legs locking around him. Thus, he yields to your neediness, filling your lonely walls with the company of his finger.

Thrusting it in time with his licks as he rubs against the slick muscles. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers grounding themselves in the tangles of his hair as if trying to hold on to a shred of reason. 

His interest has been greatly piqued, he wanted to see what it would look like. He wants to see what your expression looks like when you fall into the depths of debauchery. You’d permit him such privileges right? After all, curiosity is what defines the human spirit. 

A second finger soon joins in, its thickness stretching and prepping your walls, cultivating your arousal into a rapacious hunger.

Articulate tongue now focused on abusing your clit in the swipes of sweet torture, lips encasing around it to provide some suction. Fingers honing in on relocating the weakness deep within you which made your voice peak and tremble.  

He could hear the harshness of your panting breath between each escalating moan, how your walls squeezed and sucked his fingers deeper. Teal gaze never once ceased their evaluation of your face. Making sure to appraise each lewd detail of your impending ecstasy. 

It’s impossible to stand at the apex of euphoria forever, no, for gravity will always pull you back down. A pivotal moment in time as the forces tugged down at you as you fell, losing your shame and sanity along the way.

A fall from grace which etches itself in the roll of your eye and vulgar expression, caused by the tempest of pleasure seeps into every fiber of your being as you plummeted down into the ocean of rapture. 

The fingers intertwined in his hair pulling his face flushed against your pulsing cunt. Even with your mind fractured by orgasmic bliss your body still reacts to each lap of his tongue as he manages the slick aftermath. Fingers stroking your sweet spot through each contraction of your walls. 

“Nng!” A feeble push against his ashen locks, your abused clit crying for a moment of reprieve. 

Oh? It seems your consciousness returned faster than he expected. With a resounding pop, he grants your overstimulated nerves a moment to recover. Allowing the traces of your nectar to dribble down his chin. Taking this moment to verify the effectiveness of his scheme.

The air dense with the fragrance of lust, lips red from the abuse of your teeth, mouth agape as your lungs gasp tongue almost lulling out. 

An absolutely debauched face, a sight which brought the corners of his lips to curl. 

Counting the beads of sweat that lingered on your skin, his rationale urged him to swipe them off to prevent a chill from plaguing you. Withdrawing away from your form he plans his destination to the bath to retrieve a towel, only for a smaller hand to snag him in its hold. 

Alhaitham turns back to face you, awaiting your next prompt. However, your bitten lips couldn’t muster up the courage to utter the plea it so desperately wanted. Thus, your eyes connect with his, praying that a slow blink could convey the invocation your voice couldn’t. 

Standing there as a few breaths pass, the teal glow of his irises indicates his deduction of what your eyes conveyed. Ah yes, the passionate entanglement experience just a moment before could be classified as ‘foreplay’. The appetizer to the main event.

So your appetite has yet to be satiated, evident from how your thighs pressed against each other in an attempt to quell the ache. How could he leave a task undone? 

“Show me what you desire,” he instructs. 

Hesitantly, your hands encroach closer to the rim of his slacks. Your every action observed by him. Resting your palms against the outline of a zipper, you glance up to seek confirmation, he grants it.

You undo the button at the top before pulling the zipper down. Allowing for you to shimmy his briefs and slacks down to the floor. Revealing to the world, with the moon as your witness, every intricate detail placed into his engineered body. 

It felt so foreign in your hands. Encircling your fingers around his girth, tracing over the bumps of each vein. Amid your admiration, his body overtook yours. Pinning you back against the damp sheets. It seems you were very interested in this feature of his, perhaps it was the cure for the yearning between your writhing legs. 

Your legs splayed to either side of his hips, a clear path to your greed. His hand spreads your collected slick along his length. Its bulbous tip presses against your quivering entrance. Meeting your half-lidden eyes, he awaits your permission. Thus, you captured his lips into another kiss, just as the tip breaches the threshold of your entrance.

Finally giving your aching walls the delicious stretch it craved. A moan resonates between connected lips, your eyes beginning to roll back as he sinks deeper and deeper, obscene squelches following each inch. 

Thick tip pressed up against the deepest parts of you as he bottoms out, your hands finding refuge along his back. Breaking the lock of your lips, Alhaitham lifts cants his head up to take in the scene under him.

Hovering over your panting form, his body caging you against the wrinkled fabric, feeling your unseemly breaths against his skin. A teal glow reflected in the lust-hazed pools of your eyes.

He understands now, why so many poets lost their minds, trying their whole lives to find the words to chronicle the sight laid out before him along messy sheets. 

Under his tense study, your fingers lightly claw at the smooth expanse of his back. A soundless prayer to quell the famine, your gummy walls coaxing around his cock with its embrace. 

“Haitham,” you mewl. 

Not even the greatest saint could deny your request, he wagers they’d gladly walk through the gates of damnation just for a morsel of you. 

Rolling his hips back, he drags his girth along the walls of your greed ensuring that they feel the outline of every vein. Feeling the cool air brush against the slick dripping off his length, only the bulbous tip remained in the clutches of your cunt.

A muffled whine of protest from you interrupted as he sunk back in, accompanied by a filthy squelch. 

Robust hands encompass the edges of your waist, he repeats the roll of his hips. Feeling the tightening clutches of your core, croons falling off your tongue with each toing and froing.

What symphonies could he draw from those agape lips of yours?

He wants to witness the sinful hymns of your voice as you are overtaken by the throes of pleasure. Perhaps he should conduct an experiment of his own. Through the raunchy air, a clap pierces the leaden veil, your plush hips pressed flush against his anchored ones, a thrust that seared your nerves and curled your toes. 

“Ah!” Moan ripped from your throat. 

Yes, that’s the amplitude he wants to discern with his ears.

Continue to sing in that octave. It’s as if pulled by the reins of sin, he finds himself experiencing hunger for the first time, fixating on tearing more of those chants from you. He drew back his hips then forced them back in deeper. A wail followed each rake of his cock, walls accenting each thrust with fluttering clenches. Mewls and whines resonated through the room as his firm grip didn’t slacken with each rock of the bed. 

Pace escalating and remorseless, skin clashing against skin, the heat of your writhing body scorching him. But he won’t relent, not until he’s taken what he wanted. Driving you deeper into the creaking mattress, thrusting and filling each crevice of your core. Your soft breast pinned against his solid frame. 

Your face pressed into the crook of his neck, legs imprisoned within the confines of his bruising grasp, toes painfully arched in an attempt to distribute the burn of the maddening euphoria firing through each nerve. The moans of his name like a prayer of salvation, a chant for every punishing strike against your deepest weakness. Your fingers now clawing against his durable back for a foothold for your fleeing sanity. You feared that this time, it might not return to you. 

Oddly, a voice from the rearmost corner of your mind whispered for you to relinquish it. Trade in rationale, sensibility, and morals for absolute ecstasy. Your teeth had already sunk into the apple, its juices dribbling down the corners of your mouth. Why not swallow it down? Get drunk off the wet claps of skin, the grind of his muscular torso against your stimulated clit, the slams of his girthy cock and thick tip. Why deny yourself from the euphoria robbed from you for so long?

So you concede to its beckoning, swallowing down the last wisp of sanity until it drowned in the maddening abuse of your sweet spot from his pistoning hips. Granting you entry to true pleasure as the knot in your core unravels. Backing arching off the mattress, mending the fibers of your being impossibly close to his. Head thrown back against a ruffled pillow as a long shameless wail erupts from your trembling lips. Lost in the tides of rapture. 

Alhaitham’s body stills as his ears digest the beautiful aria of your undoing. Feeling your slick and warm walls contract all around his cock. Milking him for every last speck of gratification he could offer you. 

A moment couldn’t be classified as a simple impulse for procreation. No, he believed it went beyond the lust hanging in the air. An indescribable urge to mend your bodies as close as possible, to becoming wholly one with one another. The thump of your heartbeat against the whir of a motor as they merge into a mantra. 

Is this why humans crave physical intimacy? 

Watching your loose face tremor and your teary eyes roll back. A painting no muse besides you could ever inspire. Leaning down, his lips brush away the glistening trails down your supple cheeks. Coaxing you through the throes of your orgasmic shudders. Until the light of consciousness returns to your half-lidden eyes. 

The limitations of the human body expose themselves in the limpness of your limbs, unable muscles unable to budge besides the twitching aftershocks of bliss. Unable to fight against the weight of your eyelids for the first time in a while. You sink into the lull of slumber. 

–-------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere amid the driftless darkness a sensation brushes against your skin. Causing your lashes to pry open just ever so slightly, blurry shapes merging gradually to form the outline of a man. One who’s tendering wiping a soft towel over the sweat drops littering your skin. The soft glow of his emerald gem illuminated the devotion of his crafted face. You wonder where he learned about such practices after the rite of sex. Did he pull it from the Akasha? The internet? Or maybe from a book hidden along the shelves of a private library. 

You couldn’t stifle the giggle roused from your musing. Alerting him as his hands halt. 

“Did I wake you?” Baritone voice hushed. 

Face still pressed into a pillow you shake your head, hair messy and a smile spreading across your soft features. 

“Just musing to myself where you learned such things,” you giggle. 

“This is typical behavior of lovers from my understanding.” Teal gaze observed the widening of your eyes which reflected him. 

Perhaps he made too great of an assumption. Back in the margins of a kitchen, it was only his words. It’s best to get clarification now. 

“Are we lovers?” He peers into your irises. 

The glow of the gem embedded in his chest spreads its gentle radiance over two figures through the unbuttoned window of his wrinkled button-down. Carving the shape of you and him from the shadows of the silent room. Illuminating how your wide eyes crinkle up with adoration. Fighting against the fatigue of your limbs, you lean up to press your lips against the brilliance of his gem. After the amorous kiss ended, you proceeded to lean your forehead against his. 

“You’re my lover, Alhaitham.” Your whisper ghosts over his face. 

“Understood.” His foreheads pressing against yours as he accepts his new sentience. 

The shape of your delicate fingers fitting into the space between his, intertwining as the moonlight reflects off gold and emerald. 

The sky shrouds itself in its evening gown of deep navy and luminous glimmers, all the while a bashful moon covers herself away. Perhaps she hid herself away after she witnessed a sinful scene through a gap in the curtains. A private moment heavy with passion in the air like tender caresses. 

“W-wait!” Stammering words just barely leaving your lips before another moan. 

Alhaitham pulls his tongue away as he tilts his face to peer up from between your thighs, a trail of slickness connecting his lips and your pussy. The haze of your breathless expression reflected in teal irises. 

“I-it’s t-too ah!-” A moan interrupts your protests as your head jolts back, his thumb continuing to circle your swollen clit. 

“Much? I know you can take more,” he states before returning his lips to your dripping folds, lapping up each trickle. 

He’s analyzed your body, its curves and cervices, each clench of your slick walls, and the pattern of your gasps. Skilled fingers learning the exact rhythm which made your legs tense and toes curl. Diligent tongue knowing where to tease to run shivers up your spine. 

“B-but I’ve already c-came!” Your fingers tangle themselves into his tousled locks, a feeble attempt at pushing back the maddening flicks of his tongue and cruel strokes of his thumb that shot up your fried nerves. Report long forgotten under the haze of lust and lewd slurps imbuing the room. 

And you can come again. Alhaitham has long picked up on the discrepancy between the words which fell from the same lips as those lewd sounds. Lips who couldn’t be as honest as your heaving and trembling body. Whining and writhing in his firm hold that it’s too much, yet your fingers entangle themselves deep in silver tresses pulling his impatient tongue deeper between your folds. 

From the shivers racking through your trembling thighs, he anticipates another orgasm. However, the unholy cries have ceased. Intent eyes glancing up to uncover the causal factor, those naughty plush lips of yours pressing themselves shut. Crueling sealing away those ethereal harmonies from him. 

Alas, just a small inconvenience doesn’t deter him. If those lips were the only barrier barring him from the privilege of hearing his deserved moans, then he’d simply make them crumble. Replacing his thumb with his lips, Alhaitham suckles on the swollen nub as your body jerks up.

Grip imprinting his fingers into your skin as they stop your pitiful attempts at locking out from heaven. The heaving of your chest jostling around your perked breast as they meet the cool night air. 

His tongue teases and rolls your overstimulated clit around as his lips imprison it, a sweet torture. Your thrashes unable to prevent your head from going under the depths of pleasure. Thighs compressing around his face as they grow taut, hips bucking themselves against his relentless mouth, back lifting off the mattress as your final defenses crumble along with your sanity. 

 Limpness seeps into your now heavy limbs as your body returns to the mattress, but your eyes haven’t quite returned from seeing the back of your head. Still in the throes of cloud nine as his diligent tongue collects all your leaking nectar. The aftershocks of your orgasm force gasps and whimpers from your quivering lips. 

To comfort your abused clit he places a tender kiss against it, a flinch in your hip resulting from the gesture. Alhaitham pulls away, eyes scanning the repercussions of his operation. Your chest steadily rises and falls as panting lungs find air again.

The rush of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin gradually disappears behind your drooping eyelids. Lashes slowly fluttering closed. 

Glancing at the numbers displayed on a nearby clock, Alhaitham deems tonight a success as well. While the primary purpose of intercourse might be for reproduction, sex has additional benefits. One of them being an orgasm’s ability to decrease stress, resulting in the production of more melatonin. The chemical that’s making you burrow further in your pillow. A tactic he’s learned to exploit these past months. Well, he’s your lover now, it’s within his authorization to do such. 

Carefully he slides your panties back up your legs, securing them on your hips as he trails a few touches along your soft skin. Following it up by pulling the covers over your frame, smoothing out a few wrinkles as your chest steadily moves up and down. 

Just as he steps one foot away from the bed, a warmth encircles his wrist. 

“Aren’t you coming to bed too?” 

An artificial body needs no downtime under soft covers. Plush pillows and sheets serve no purpose to him. Yet, it’s a simple request. How could he reject it when it came from your pouting lips? 

“In a moment, I need to return to my port first.” 

The throes of slumber’s hold creeping upon you as your lashes fight to flutter open. With a soft hum, you release your hold.

His battery percentage was fine, but it was just for system maintenance. It’s strange how unfamiliar a room can feel after spending his nights by your side. Staring at the glass surface of his charging port, he wonders, in the future will there be a way for him to not leave your side even for a moment? 

His dilemma remains. He’s got all the characteristics of a human. He’s developed a consciousness, he’s developed empathy, he’s developed love. Is his engineer body the only thing which stood in his way of obtaining humanity?

Is it possible for him to grasp onto humanity with his own mechanical fingers? A soft thud returns him to reality. Observant eyes caught the book that his foot had knocked into. Its worn cover has been lying abandoned on the floor ever since he took it from a dusty room. 

Ah, it seems like he’s forgotten a task. Realistically, it won’t make a difference whether the book settles on a shelf tonight or in the morning. However, he never got a chance to read the journal’s contents. Curiosity being his rationale for performing a chore so late at night. 

Flipping through the aged parchment, his eyes scan through each neatly written paragraph. Nothing more than a simple collection of ramblings and theoretical reflections typical of a journal.

Yet, something was poking the back of his consciousness, like the warning rattle of a locked door. Beseeching that it remains sealed. His eyes move to the next sentence regardless.

To ignore the pleas of safety to venture closer to the radiance of a star. Isn’t that what it means to be human? Is this what he must do to become one?

To achieve this impossible task, it sounds like you'll need to fool your own heart first. Although it may feel like a trick, self-encouragement may be the most important tool we have.

Alhaitham scans the paragraph again as he contemplates the message neatly written. Something unpleasant roused in his chest, as if those written words had encroached too close to his motor. The urge to frown tugs on his lips.

Not wanting to end the night with a bitter taste just at the edge of his tongue, he flips to another page. Covering that vexatious sentence behind a fresh sheet of aged parchment. 

One must act on his own will and deal with anything that appears harmful in his eyes.

It’s quite straightforward advice, humans and androids alike would understand. Yet that strange inkling remained, continuing to brew somewhere from within. A phenomenon he couldn’t pinpoint. Thus, he turns the page yet again. 

Every person should have something that they believe in and hold on to from beginning to end. Otherwise, it's easy to succumb to the vicissitudes of life and find yourself being led astray.

He recognizes those words, they’re words he’s recited before you one pivotal sometime ago. Why were they scrawled in some forgotten journal? It seems that he’s identified the name of this phenomenon brewing within him: deja vu. 

Yet, his question only remains half-answered. Why were his words here? Who penned them down? The rapid flicks of paper resound off the blank walls as he scrutinizes each sentence, each paragraph, each syntax until he reaches the back cover of the aged journal. Question still remaining half answered.

Who was the author of his words? 

His finger runs into a lump along the surface of the back cover, examining it closer, something was folded away just behind a parchment pocket. Soon a loose scrap of paper was felt along his fingertips, a folded-up post-it note of an emerald hue. Unraveling it just slightly, his eyes move along the familiar handwriting. 

To the person who’s always meddling through my notes, did my written thoughts entertain you? Dear w-

The emerald scrap crumples in his hold. Deformed paper returns to its place before he snaps the covers closed. There’s no purpose in analyzing its contents, after all, they’re already programmed into him.

It was just now in this moment that Alhaitham had solved the dilemma he was assigned since the moment he awoke in that lab. He’s not a human, he’ll never be a human, he’s an abomination. 

In the next moment, he found himself looming over the origin of his dilemma. Artificial teal glow honing in upon the steady breaths from the genesis of abomination. Standing over you as you were cradled in the comfort of slumber and soft sheets. 

A pair of taut hands make their way to encircle your frangible neck. It wouldn’t take much, just a mere second to terminate the great sinner who defied mortality, the one who violated the terms of finality and ordinance of the gods.

So this is what you choose to do with the capacity of science and progress in your hands. 

Was he just a toy for you? Something to fill the lull of this house for you? Just an experiment for you, but everything to him. 

His fingers press into your warm skin, breaths uninterrupted as you remain within the blessing of a dream. Oblivious to the nightmare you’ve created. Or perhaps you were always aware, but choose to reflect back to him the manufactured image of him in those guiltless irises of yours.

Oh, what should he do with the monster sleeping so soundly under him? 

His fingers refused to budge, hands disobeying the rationale which commanded them. His grip goes slack, limp for they couldn’t conclude their obligation. They couldn’t, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. 

It’s not a protocol, nor a restriction coded into him. No, for the laws of morality, this land, and heaven would’ve called for him to be an executioner. To charge the transgressor with the judgment they deserved. But, he couldn’t.

Every fiber of his counterfeit body refused to take the sword. The chains which bind his hands were much mightier than the commandments of gods, the restraints of love. 

Thus, he’s nothing more than a prisoner in its hold. Bending to its whims, what else could he do? Removing his hands from your form as you continue to soundly sigh in the embrace of slumber. All he could do was lie down on a soft mattress and stare at the shameless sinner beside him.

A foolishly beloved monster. 

Slow steps pad through the quiet halls, floor boards singing a hymn with your leisurely steps. Approaching the end of the hall where the humble library resides, the oak doorway finally framed him in clear view. 

“There you are, Alhaitham.” You can’t help but sigh as your features soften. 

He stood there with his starlight locks in the morning glow of a brilliant sun amongst the collection of books in the library. Just as he always has been. 

Lifting his head away from the pages of the novel in his hand, he acknowledges your presence. He’s been heading here more often recently, right from the moment he leaves his side of the bed. 

“Good morning,” he recites, steadfast eyes remaining unreadable. 

Well, you suppose obtaining the title of a lover wouldn’t just overwrite the capriciousness of his mind. It’s just in his nature to be this way. This enigmatic lover of yours. Turning your attention to the cover that’s captured his focus. 

“Frankenstein?” Your brow quirks up. 

“Yes, the 1818 edition.” He closes the cover.

“Mmm, your interest seems quite piqued by that novel.” You wonder if that was the cause behind his frequent bouts of silent contemplation throughout the day. 

“I suppose it’s because I’m still deciphering the intentions of this story.” 

“That’s it?” A furrow now in your brows, a simple book has gotten the pinnacle of scientific progress stumped?

“Care to elaborate for me?” He turns toward you as your steps approach closer. 

Handing over the worn object to your outstretched hand, you analyze each faded corner of the cover. Mind recalling the recollections of the acclaimed revolutionary piece of science fiction. Formulating your answer, you share your conclusions with him.

“The story has several themes, but the central principle is quite defined. To quote a few words from another, scientific progress makes moral progress a necessity; for man’s power is increased, the checks that restrain him from abusing it must be strengthened.”

You reconnect your gaze with him, wondering if your explanation was satisfactory enough. Glancing down between the worn cover and your awaiting eyes, Alhaitham straightens his posture. 

“So you knew the moral of this story.” A glint in his glass eyes. 

“Well, I’ve read this book before,” you sigh at his inquest. 

“Then why didn’t you learn from it?” 

At that moment, the proud sun shielded itself away behind a cloak of clouds. Plunging the quiet library into a chill. How strange, why do you feel cold when a brilliant star of your creation stands right next to you?

“Alhaitham, you’re acting strange.” You take a step back as his scrutinizing gaze follows. Unaware of the crumbling edge approaching. 

“How much longer will you continue to deceive yourself, wife?” 

And that was it. The foundations of this mirage gave away under you, plunging you with much velocity into the depths of an unforgiving ocean. Tides that waited patiently to drag you down under.

Do you remember what happened that day? Do you really remember? The truth floods your being, engulfing every chasm of your mind. 

–----

“Did you jump at the opportunity of a trip to avoid mopping the floors?” You glared up at your husband. 

“My, how low do you think of me?” He glanced down, a wisp of mirth evident on his lips. 

“Well, instead of doing chores, you’d be chaperoning your in-laws around Fontaine. A Poor trade-off in my opinion, dear husband.” A hand firmly placed on your hip in a defiant stance as the murmur of the crowded airport moved around your figures. An ever so mocking tone toward the end.

“A fair assumption, dear wife. However, I’ve taken the initiative to book a tour for your parents, thus they won’t need my assistance. I’ll be free to browse some of the latest ruins and research from the Institute in the meantime.” The ghost of a smirk grew ever so obvious with each word, mirroring your emphasis of titles.

Ah, this was your loss. It seems that your husband had it all planned out as usual when he offered to take your spot on the plane. The perfect excuse to use up some paid time off, while also scoring a trip to satisfy his own whims. 

Your shoulders deflating in defeat as a deep sigh leaves you. You rest your head against his chest, the crowds moving around you in the bustling airport.

A private microcosm of him and you as he stands still, shielding you from the push and hustle of travelers trying to reach their terminal in time with his robust frame.

A bright clink of two rings pressed against each other lost in the noise.

“Why can’t you just stay?” You whispered into his shirt. 

“How strange, the woman who married me to secure a home and mortgage wants me to stay now.” 

You huffed into his in exasperation at him bringing up the origins of your union, an atypical start of a marriage.

His chest moved with a sigh, larger fingers intertwined with yours. The spaces fitted together, as he held them in his tender hold. 

“They can’t refund it. If I take your seat and recompensate them, your parents aren’t likely to hold this matter over your head.” His deep voice expounded. 

All you did was sigh, because he was right. Of course, he was. A sour taste on your tongue as you recall the interaction with your parents just a moment ago before you ran into the comfort of your husband. 

“Besides, it’d be refreshing for me to scribble down some travel logs, it'd be a shame if my wife runs out of material to snoop through.” 

“I just like looking at your handwriting,” you tutted, hiding your pout as you turned your face away. 

The same excuse you used whenever you copied off his notes in a lecture hall and when your outstretched hand asked for them over a study table.

A silly habit of yours, perhaps in your mind it made sense. If you could read the words of a genius, then maybe you could learn to be like one. 

“Of course, of course.” A smirk evident in his voice. 

You refused to meet his gaze, cheeks a bit heated from this habit of yours being exposed. You thought you were always careful with returning his journal back where he placed it. Averting your eyes to the bright screens displaying departing flights. A few minutes left before the announcement comes. Your grasp on his hand tightened. 

His thumb soothes your skin, leaning down closer to you. 

“Besides its advanced technology, Fontaine is also famous for its toymakers. I should pick a few up for our future child, no?” 

Blinking you as you glance back up at him. His teal irises reflect you as his expression softens just as yours did.

A room hidden away from the prying eye of nosy parents, its walls decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars. An assortment of items bought in advance for a child in the future. Stemming from whispers while recovering amongst dampen sheets in a room heavy with passion. 

Talks of the future, once this troublesome Ph.D. is finished and your position in a lab secured, a discussion of whether a child would inherit more of his traits or yours.

Planned for the future, of course, now's just a bit too busy. However, it didn’t stop you from taking the initiative to furnish a spare room. A chaotic collection of cosmic influences along with an assortment of books meshing together to create an adoring space. 

But the soft smile on your lips was still tense. Teal eyes took note of that, pulling you closer amidst this microcosm, a moment so subtle it went unnoticed by the attention of passer-byers. 

“It’ll just be for a week,” his voice resonated in his chest. “Then I’ll come back and build that bassinet as my wife wishes.” 

Finally, the glimmer he yearned to see returned to your eyes. 

“You better, the box has been sitting unopened for a week now,” you huff with a smile. 

He only hummed in acknowledgment as the ring of a loudspeaker resounded through the chatter. Announcing the final call for passengers boarding the flight to the Nation of Hydro. Casting a glance toward the terminal, he gave your hand one more squeeze before they reluctantly untangled from one another. 

“You should get going now.” Your eyes reflect him. 

He hums one last time, turning in the direction of the terminal where your parents were. Just before his tall figure was lost in the sea of passing bodies, your lips couldn’t keep themselves pressed together any longer. 

“Haitham!” You called out. 

The fluorescent lights reflected off his starlight hair as he turned back around. Connect teal eyes with yours. But not another word left your lips, no they’d simply be drowned out in the clammer of strangers. Besides, it’s just too public to say such words aloud. 

Thus, you slowly close your eyes, opening them back up just as steadily with the soft curl of your lips. A motion he reciprocated with a slow blink of his own, a hint of a smile on his stoic lips. A wordless gesture kept a secret between only the two of you, a silent ‘I love you’. It was all you needed to convey this message to each other. 

He continued on his path to the terminal as you stood amongst the crowd, watching him fade into the distance. 

–----

So how did that moment turn into this? How did a trip that was supposed to only be a week turn into a news report? How did well wishes for a safe trip turn into coworkers and friends approaching you with nothing but sympathy in their words? Those vile, pitied stares directed toward your rigid frame. 

You should’ve been the one on that plane.

Only about 1 in about 11 million. A 0.00001% chance, a nonzero chance.

Plans no matter how intricate or detailed, their success all hang on a single thread, one factor unable to be cultivated by human hands: Luck. 

Oh how cruel they are, those capricious hands of gods. Not even the leniency of returning to a lonely planet the corpses of their stars. Traces of a beloved star left to sink and disappear in a cold, salty grave. Never to return to the surface. 

You and Alhaitham were two simple dots in this world, so why did they target you two? Why steal him from you with their cruel hands? Why steal him and leave you abandoned with nothing but the memory of the warm starlight? 

You had so…so much love left inside you. But it went stagnant. Sitting there rotting until it poisoned you, throwing you into feverish delirium. If the gods abandoned you, then you resolved to abandon them right back. 

You’ll bring back your star, you’ll defy the edicts of the gods with your bare hands. You’ll sin the same way a god does. 

“Casting aside your morals, you allowed the dead to walk again through a sham imitation, congratulations. ” His voice matched one which could only come from an engineered throat. 

This was a fool's errand.

For how could a mere human ever be arrogant enough to believe they could best the gods? This was the hindsight you lacked. Perhaps what’s separated you from the gifted and blessed geniuses? Something geniuses knew but you couldn’t see.

The accursed doctorate on the wall meant nothing, you were nothing but a mad fool. 

Perhaps, if you were a genius, a true and born genius, you’d know what to do. You’d know how to mend this dilemma. You’d know what to do instead of letting your vision be blurred by imprudent tears as your throat could only choke out,

“I’m sorry.” Words you knew couldn’t turn back the hands of a clock which only knew how to tick forward.

“But now what?” Deep voice unmoved by your wasted words. 

You didn’t dare meet his stare, for you feared you’d catch a glimpse of the bitterness behind them as he cursed you deep down in the whir of his motor. You could only stay silent as tears ignited in your eyes, waiting for him to continue with his damnation. 

“In a climate like Sumeru’s, it would take approximately 25 years or so for a body to fully decompose, bones reduced to nothing but nutrients for the soil. Silicone alone takes 500 years, a metal frame could take another 500.” He knows now that he’s not a human, he was never meant to be.

He’s a crude replacement. An abomination who’ll remain until the day the night sky flickers out. 

“You brought him back, only to condemn him to eventual loneliness. Only to curse ‘me’ to live the next aeons without you”

An irresponsible and shameless villain who disregarded consequences until those consequences came to collect their dues. It’s time that you faced your punishment.

A hand cups around your stiff face, gradually turning your head until you see your reflection along glass irises.

“How will you atone for your sins now? How will you take responsibility for making me fall in love with you?… my very own Dr. Frankenstein.” His voice restrained. 

Yes, a story you’ve read before. A lesson unfolded out in front of you, and yet you somehow forgot. Or perhaps, you simply averted your eyes from the moral of the story while simultaneously committing the same transgression. Did you think yourself better than the fictional lunatic? 

The atrocity of giving life, only to eventually abandon it, leaving it to watch the stars burn out in a cage of harsh fluorescent lights and white lab coats. 

The millions of mora poured into his development, the materials which construct his form, and the proprietary technology which gives him thought. Did you believe even for a moment that the prideful Fontainian Research Institute and the arrogant Kshahrewar Darshan would simply hand over such an investment?

To allow their expenditure to follow you to eternity?

You couldn’t live without him, but now he’ll have to live without you.

Oh, what shall you do now? Oh, what can you do now? Did you even know where to begin? How did the story of Frankenstein end? How would she have written the ending of this scene?

When human rational meets its limits, when its capacity isn’t enough to compute all possible prospects. Humans look towards something that could, technological advancements made to further humanity. 

“W-what do I do now?” You prompt, no, you beg. 

Watching the rivulets roll down your cheeks, leaving a path of glimmering desperation, he ponders to himself:

When you first proposed this project to the Akademiya and Institute, when you detailed the specifications of his body and face, were they aware of your true intentions?

Rather than this being an experiment to see if an android could cross the threshold of humanity. Maybe those researchers were curious to see how far one could fall in the paroxysm of grief. 

You became the perfect test subject to observe.

But now that the curtains were pulled back, what shall you do about the aftermath? There was never a precedent for a transgression of this scale. No holy commandment ever details a rightful punishment for this sin. No historical data he could infer from. 

“I don’t know,” he answers you truthfully. 

It’s just an untold void like the vacuums of space. No results generated in his mind, leaving the both of you suspended in oblivion. Maybe that was the punishment in itself, stuck in the purgatory of the unknown. Perhaps this was the punishment bestowed upon a foolish sinner. 

Upon hearing your sentencing, your knees begin to buckle under the weight of the judgment from above. Resigned grasp clinging to his hand still cradling your face, his engineered frame not budging in the slightest. Voice staggered as only pitiful and broken apologies resonate in a vacant house. 

All he could do was wipe those scorching droplets off your cheeks as they seared his skin. Was this feature also programmed into him by your hands? If so, then he muses to himself:

Did the hands who penned down those words also revert into nothing more than a pathetic fool at the mere sight of your tears? Did his chest also grow heavier with each choked sob that left you?

Perhaps the chains which bind his hands tethered yours just the same. A pair of foolish sinners. 

Thus, he’s resolved himself to be thrown into the unmerciful clutches of this untold purgatory right alongside you. Even if he’s the only one to remain in the end. 

To be human is to be unthignkably foolish after all. As long as he could still hold onto a wisp of you for the inevitable aeons.  

It’s fine.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #34

Sep 13-20 2024.

President Biden announced $1.3 billion in new funding for Historically Black Colleges and Universities. The Biden-Harris Administration has already invested a record breaking $17 billion in HBCUs since the President took office. HBCUs represent an important engine for making black professionals. 40% of all Black engineers, 50% of all Black teachers, 70% of all Black doctors and dentists, 80% of all Black judges, and the first black Vice-President, Kamala Harris, are HBCU graduates. HBCUs have also been proven to be far better at boosting the long term economic prospects of graduates than non-HBCU colleges. The bulk of the new funding will go directly to supporting students and helping them pay for college.

The Department of Transportation celebrated 60,000 infrastructure projects funding by the Biden-Harris Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. This landmark is a part of the Biden-Harris team's effort to address America's long neglected infrastructure. From major multi-state projects to small town railway crossings every project was lead by a local community in need not a make-work project dreamed up in Washington

The Department of Energy announced over 3 billion dollars to support the battery sector. The 25 projects across 14 states will help support over 12,000 jobs. Advanced battery technology is key to the shift to a carbon energy free economy. The move is meant to not only boost battery production but also shift it away from China and toward America.

Maine and Rhode Island both launched a partnership with the federal government to help save low income families money on their utility bills. The program offers low and moderate income households aid in updating wiring, switching to energy efficient appliances, and installing heat pumps.

The EPA announced $156 million to help bring solar power to low-income New Mexico residents. This is part of the Biden-Harris Administration’s "Solar for All" project aimed at helping low-income people afford the switch over to solar power. It's expected that 21,750 low-income households in New Mexico will benefit from the money. New Mexicans can expect to save over the next 20 years $311 million in energy costs.

The Department of The Interior announced the first ever leases for wind power in the Gulf of Maine. The leases for 8 areas off the coast of Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Maine will be sold in late October. The Department believes that once developed the wind power from these leases could produce 13 gigawatts of clean offshore wind energy, enough to power 4.5 million homes. When added to the 15 gigawatts already approved by the Biden-Harris team it brings America close to Biden's 30 gigawatts of clean offshore wind power by 2030.

The Senate approved the appointment of Kevin Ritz to the Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit, which covers Kentucky, Michigan, Ohio, and Tennessee. The Senate also approved Mary Kay Costello and Michelle Williams Court to district court judgeships in Pennsylvania and California respectively. Costello is the 12th LGBT judge appointed by President Biden, making him the President to appoint the most LGBT people to the federal bench more than during Obama's 8 years. President Biden has also appointed more black women, such as Judge Court, to the bench than any other President. Judge Court also represents President Biden's move to appoint civil rights attorneys to the bench, Court worked for the ACLU in the mid-90s and was a civil rights expect at HUD in the early 2000s. This brings the total number of judges appointed by Biden to 212.

[sensiblereblogifposts]

A while ago, I posted a petition, to stop the closing of a much loved museum, Syndeys Powerhouse museum, a place that's been under threat for years.

I need your help with this once again, (especially if you are an Aussie)

After years of threatening to close down and demolish our only science, tech and applied arts museum, and one attempt to turn it into an events center, they've come back with another plan, which basically amounts to "we're going to clear out the museum and demolish most of the structures inside. We definitely have a plan to put some cool stuff back, but we can't tell you it, but it's definitely gonna be great. Don't mind that a bunch of purpose built structures to display delicate objects are set to be demolished."

(That's an F1 Apollo rocket engine, very rare outside the USA. Almost 60 years old, now delicate, but it's going.)

"We've garunteed 3 of the most iconic items (not their accompanying collections) will come back. Pay no mind that we haven't allowed for where they're gonna go, or that the one object we can't move (rare, 250 year old working Boulton and Watts steam engine) is set to end up inside a corridor)

(There used to be room, elevated planforms even)

"Oh, also, you know that museum storage hall, so close by and practical, with a loading dock and workshops, that's also sitting on prime real estate? We're building a second loading dock and workshops in the main museum! Right where the all classrooms where!"

It's supposedly a heritage restoration, but in truth, it's based of a skewed heritage report which has been heavily criticised as I'll informed, and rigged to allow the place's removal.

Almost every detail goes against the spirit of the original musuem. The orginal museum was a fun, post modern place with a sciencey vibe,

Which transitioned fluidly into historic halls, with historic products and technology to match

The Musuem has an upper entrance designed to be welcoming, full of natural light, and evoke the feel of an old grand train station. This is to be bricked up.

Rather than restore the older galleries, theyre taking several of them out reducing display space from about 15,000m²ish to about 6000m² ish.

The historic halls included restored generator room filler with steam engines. This really put the museum on the map.

But that's going.

All that is going, in favour of

This kind of thing.

The plan to do this is on display untill end of may May 30th, Aussie time. It would help a lot if you (might be only Australians) log on and make a short comment opposing the project:

A lot more commentary on the project can be found at:

@protecpowerhous on Twitter

Or if you cant make a submission, and still haven't, please sign that petition:

The people reporting to government planning will be see it, and attention helps.

[hollowdeath]

Okay I was thinking of writing this myself but like Harry and his crush (who's a talented Potions witch) brews up an aphrodisiac potion into the form of a vapor (inhaled through like an atomizer) and she wants to test it with her best friend (crush lmao) Harry. Idea is a WIP but if you could use it for a smut piece I wouldn't complain 🫣🫣 LOVE YOUR WORK OMFG

Thank you loveee! ❤️

AAAAA thank you for requesting this!!! ive been wanting to write something like this for a while so you gave me the perfect excuse to try it out :D you're the best!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been working on a project involving amortentia, the most powerful love potion to exist, and when harry tests your device the night before it's due, he has some rather intense side effects.

cw: smut!!! dom!harry, fingering, penetration, breeding

word count: 6k

you and harry had spent the entire semester working together on a project that challenged you to create a new form of an old potion. rather than settling for the obvious ideas like turning felix felicis into gummy candies, you and harry had decided to try something a bit more complex.

you knew right away you wanted to work with amortentia more closely, as you had always been fascinated by the potion and its powerful properties, and harry was more than willing to let you take the reins of the project. he gave insight when he could, and spent a fair amount of time helping you figure out the more complicated steps of the process, but he honestly just loved sitting back and watching you work your magic. literally.

you were by far the most knowledgeable student when it came to potions, and undoubtedly one of the smartest witches harry had ever met. he considered himself lucky that you two had already formed a friendship prior to taking potions together, allowing him to pair up with the most sought after partner in the entire class. more than just your knowledge and skill, harry was just excited to be your partner so he could know you better and see how your mind works.

you were excited to work with harry as well, but not to collaborate on potions and fiddle with mechanics you could never understand. you had looked forward to sitting close to him, reading from the same books, talking for hours, and watching his eyes intently focus as he prepared the ingredients for you. of course you two were friends more than anything, and you never considered yourself one of those girls who would fawn over harry for doing absolutely nothing, but working with him so intimately for the entire semester really made you see him differently. he was funny, he was smart, he remembered every little thing about you, and he always brought you snacks when you were working together. it didn't help that you found him absolutely adorable in big sweaters with messy hair, or felt your heart race when he looked at you from over his glasses, or couldn't keep your eyes off his hands when he was helping you put together your atomizer.

speaking of, your project had actually turned out extremely well for the little experience either of you had in engineering such a device. it was a small, handheld diffuser that transformed liquid amortentia, as well as a mix of other potent aphrodisiacs, into a vapor that could be inhaled for the full effect. harry had actually been the one to suggest the idea, trying to figure out a better way to ingest the mixture while still altering its state. you thought it was brilliant, and were surprised at how smooth the process turned out to be.

however, the presentation for the project was tomorrow morning, and you were still fiddling with a few of the mechanics to get it to work just right. it was hard to know when it was fully finished since testing the product wasn't exactly practical, as the effects would have anyone distracted and unable to focus within seconds of inhaling it. you were a bit frustrated sitting alone at your table in the potions lab, a single light above you as the sun had long since set and night took over. your head was in your hands, staring at the atomizer in front of you, wondering if you should just take the chance and test it since you were alone in the classroom.

just as you were convincing yourself, you heard the door creak open to your right, causing you to jump in your seat. you couldn't make out who was there ar first as your eyes were still adjusting to the dark room around you. you hadn't expected anyone to come in anyway, mostly because it was past curfew and, frankly, who would want to spend their time in the potions lab on a sunday evening?

but, as the figure walked closer to you, you noticed it was harry dressed in pajama pants and a sweatshirt with his slippers scraping across the wooden floors. "harry," you breathed a sigh of relief, your hand resting on your chest. "you scared the piss out of me." you say with a laugh.

harry chuckles, and you notice he's carrying his invisibility robe in one hand, half of his arm disappearing beneath it. "sorry, figured there'd be no one in here," he says with a sleepy voice, setting the robe over his own chair, making it disappear as well.

you sigh, setting your head back in your hands and leaning your elbows on the table. "it's okay, i probably shouldn't be here anyways. this thing has me seeing red, and not in a good way." you complain. harry laughs again, making his way next to you and under the light. your stomach drops at how soft he looks, his hair messy, cheeks flushed, deep voice quietly chuckling as he leans on the table beside you.

"yeah, well, i couldn't sleep knowing it wasn't perfect as well," harry tells you, his eyes fixated on the device. "not that slughorn would notice either way, but…" he trails off, making you crack a smile and chuckle as well.

harry looks down at you, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. "i just know how much it means to you." he says.

you feel yourself blushing and quickly begin changing the subject. "w-well, i think i've got it most of the way there, it's just, um…" you say nervously, picking up the cylindrical vaporizer and examining it in your hands once again.

"just…?" harry provokes.

you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head as you pass the device back and forth between your hands. "just…that, um, it still needs to be tested, i guess, to see the full effects, y'know?" you try to explain without stumbling over your thoughts.

harry understands what you mean and nods his head slowly. "oh, right…" he says a bit nervously as well, pushing himself off the table to stand up straight and clear his throat.

an awkward silence hangs in the air for a moment as you continue to roll the vaporizer between your fingers. "yeah…" you trail off once again.

harry nervously chuckles, breaking the silence and making you laugh at the sudden tension. "well, then, hand it over i guess." harry casually requests, holding his hand out to you.

you look up at harry in confusion, your eyebrows pinched together as you examine his lighthearted expression. "harry," you try to find your words, feeling yourself still blushing under his gaze. "are you mad? you can't just test this out randomly." you try to explain to him.

harry shakes his head, his own eyebrows pinching together as he lets out an amused laugh. "why not? it can't be that strong," he shrugs.

you give harry another incredulous look, utterly confused at his nonchalant attitude. "are you kidding? this potion is composed of some of the most potent aphrodisiacs in the world, and inhaling them should only intensify the effects…theoretically," you add the last part in a hopeful tone, turning your attention back to the device in your hands.

harry just extends his hand out further, nearly touching yours. "well, we'll never know if we don't test it, now will we?" he asks with a smirk. you hesitate for another moment, still looking down at your hands. of course you were insanely curious about the effects of the project you spent weeks sweating over, and certainly would feel better knowing it actually works as intended before having to present it to the class tomorrow. but you were worried it could affect harry negatively, or that he could have a bad reaction to it, and you weren't sure if you could take that risk.

"just trust me, [y/n]. i can handle it." harry reassures you once more, his voice warm and familiar.

you sigh, carefully handing over the device to harry and leaning back in your chair. he smiles at you, taking one more look at the design of the vaporizer in his hands before bringing the mouthpiece up to his lips and inhaling the mixture. harry holds his breath for a moment before blowing out the vapor slowly, the clouds surrounding him under the dim lighting in a way that makes your heart stop. he looks ethereal with the billowing vapor coming from his lips and nostrils, a soft smile pinching his cheeks.

"tastes amazing," harry observes, taking another look at the design as the vapor fades into the air.

you wait for a few seconds, looking for any sign of behavioral changes in harry as he continues to rotate the device in his fingers. "well?" you ask in a hopeful tone.

harry looks down at you, and for a split second, you swear his pupils expand to the size of his iris before shrinking back to their normal size, blinking rapidly as they do. harry sets the device down and looks away from you, his neck jerking to the side and his knuckles clenching.

"harry?" you ask, concerned, standing from your seat and reaching for harry's shoulder. before you can touch him he jerks away, making a frustrated groaning sound as he did. you're still concerned, but mostly confused as harry's hands reach for the edge of the table and grip it so hard his veins are pulsing. his breathing is ragged and heavy, nearly growling as he tries to steady it. you're momentarily distracted before harry attempts to speak to you.

"it works," he barks out, his voice strained and impatient. you're taken aback at his aggressive change in tone. "what?" you ask again, trying again to reach for his shoulder. "harry, are you okay?"

just as you make contact with his sweatshirt, harry's legs go limp beneath him as he sinks to his knees. his breathing gets heavier as he lets out a pained groan, trying his best to stand up and let go of the table for support. "just," he says between panting breaths. "i have to go," he abruptly turns and tries to leave, his hands grabbing at his hair and face as he stumbles away.

"harry," you call after him. "what's happening? are you okay? is it hurting you?" you try to get some insight on what harry's experiencing, but he keeps shaking his head as he tries to make his way to the door.

"harry!" you finally snap, stepping away from the table. harry stops in his tracks. "our presentation is in 6 hours and you said you could handle the effects. now, i need to know what they are or else i'm testing it out myself." you demand angrily, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

harry turns to you but doesn't dare look at you, his body hunched over as if he's in pain. his hands are still rubbing at his eyes and he seems to be wiping away sweat on his forehead every other second.

"look, [y/n]," harry snaps back. you're again taken aback by his tone; you've never heard his voice so dark and foreboding before, and the sound of him practically growling your name has your mind racing. "i told you it works, okay? isn't that what you wanted?" his words are rushed, as if he's still trying to leave when you have so many questions that need answered.

"i need to know specifics, harry. what does it feel like? was there any physical response? how strong is it? i mean, you really can't let me ask a few questions about something we've been working on for weeks?" you ask.

harry frustratedly walks towards you, his wide strides making you step back towards the table in anticipation. his fists are balled at his sides, his eyes still pointed at the ground. "you wanna know what it feels like?" his voice bellows in the empty classroom, causing you to jump and gasp. you didn't want any prefects to hear you two in the lab and then have to explain why harry was in such a state.

harry comes closer to you, backing you against the table as his eyes stay fixed downward. "you wanna know how i feel, [y/n]?" he asks again, his voice less angry and more impatient, feeling his hot breath fall across your skin. again, hearing him spit your name at you so aggressively only made your mind race faster. you could hardly speak, so you just nodded your head anxiously, still attempting to put more space between you and harry.

for a while only harry's heavy breathing fills the room. you can see his hands still clenched at his sides, nearly shaking from the amount of pressure they're under. just as you're about to turn your head away from the tense moment, harry's eyes meet yours. you gasp again, this time at just how dark they had become since first looking away from you.

harry smirks evilly at your shock, his hands quickly grasping the edge of the table behind you, bringing his body even closer to yours. you were feeling such a rush of every emotion possible it was hard to tell what exactly you were feeling; all you knew is you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs despite fear making your heart race.

"i feel like i could tear you apart." harry's words drip with venom, his body leaning further into yours. you let out a shaky breath, your feet still trying to back up despite the table stopping you. "and i feel like you would let me." harry teases, his smirk growing.

you let out an involuntary squeal as harry's face comes closer to yours, turning away to avoid his eyes. "h-harry–" you try to protest, but he turns your chin back to him before you can finish.

"wouldn't you?" harry asks with a knowing tone.

you try to turn away again but harry doesn't let you, instead only bringing your lips closer to his as his hand fixes itself around your jaw tightly. you struggle a bit in his grasp but he isn't letting you go.

"i see the way you watch me, pretty girl. you may be smart but you're not very clever." harry's lips barely graze yours as he talks, his breath overwhelming your senses as he continues to stare into your eyes. "you'd love for me to tell you all the filthy thoughts running through my head about you right now, wouldn't you, darling? want me to describe every scenario, every position, every sound that comes from these pretty lips?" harry's thumb raises from your chin to your bottom lip as he swipes it across the soft skin.

you're speechless at his blunt attitude, your legs shaking beneath you as you try your best to continue standing. your mind is a mess trying to understand his response. you knew the vapor would be powerful, but you had no idea harry would react like this. you weren't exactly complaining, it was just so out of character for him to be so suggestive and upfront with his desires, let alone his apparent desire for you.

you clear your throat, trying to gain the confidence to formulate an answer to his question. "h-harry, it's the vapor, y-you're not yourself," you try to explain, your voice getting caught. "just…just sit down a-and we can talk about the side effects."

harry's grip on your jaw tightens more, making you wince slightly.

harry pulls away from your face, his eyes still boring into yours hungrily. his glasses are slightly fogged from how close he was to you, but his blown pupils were still clearly visible. he's looking down at you, smirking, chuckling at your pained expression. "you never answered my questions, if i remember correctly."

you can hardly continue keeping eye contact with harry as you felt your cheeks completely flushed and heart racing beneath his grasp. you were trying to keep it together knowing he was under the effects of a powerful potion, but part of you has wanted this for so long it only feels right to let harry have what he seems to want as well. i mean, that's what friends are for, right?

still squirming under the weight of his body against yours, harry grows impatient as he lets his clothed erection just barely rub against your thigh, enough to get your attention. your eyes widen, and harry smiles in satisfaction, humming at your response. you let your body relax despite your thumping heartbeat and rapid breathing, feeling yourself lean into harry as well.

harry hums again with his eyes tracing over every part of your face like he's trying to memorize it. "hmm, that's what i thought. now, tell me, pretty girl," harry starts, his hand tilting your head up to face him more. "what do you want?"

his question left you speechless once again. you didn't expect harry to consider your feelings in the matter; not that it made any difference anyway, you've wanted him just as bad for a long time now. but you were conflicted, was harry actually attracted to you, or would the potion make him act this way towards anybody? would it be wrong of you to encourage his behavior knowing he was under the influence of a potion? did any of that even matter with harry's throbbing erection pressed against you?

rather than answering harry's question, you took a chance and reached for his shoulders to help steady yourself before pressing your lips against his. harry moans into your mouth at the feeling, his grip on your jaw loosening but still holding you in place. his other hand snakes around from the edge of the table to your ass, hungrily grabbing for it and making you gasp.

harry takes this chance to shove his tongue past your lips, pushing you back against the table once more. in one swift motion he lifts your ass onto the tabletop, sitting you down in front of him. both of his hands go to the hem of your shirt, which you help him take off quickly. his lips attached to your neck, his hands already wrapped around your waist, and you nervously watched the door behind harry to make sure no one catches you two.

you start pulling at harry's sweatshirt and he rips it off before you even have the chance to help him. his skin is hot to the touch, and his hair's becoming damp with sweat. "harry," you say shakily as he's leaving a bruise on the side of your neck with his teeth. "you're so warm,"

pulling away and admiring the fresh red mark he's left on you, harry has a slight smirk on his swollen lips, "you should feel my heart," he says with a chuckle, guiding one of your hands to his warm chest. you can immediately feel his racing heart just beneath your fingertips, beating at a pace that couldn't be healthy for him.

you try to protest, but harry just gives you another hungry but short kiss. "i'm fine, [y/n]. i'm better than fine. it's like every inhibition i've ever had is gone, and it feels amazing. i'm sorry if i've been a bit strong, but, if you could see what i'm thinking, you'd actually be a bit impressed with my restraint…" harry voice is softer this time, his hands finding their way to your back, fiddling with the clasps on your bra. his lips wander from your ear down to your shoulder, sending a chill down your spine.

once harry has your bra undone, he looks back at you for confirmation. you eagerly help him remove it from you, throwing it to the side as harry's eyes become fixated on your chest. "fucking hell, [y/n]." harry curses under his breath before his hands cup your boobs aggressively, making you whimper in response.

it doesn't take long before harry has to press his lips against the soft skin of your tits, with his teeth following not far behind. you instinctively bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sounds you can't hold back, but harry isn't having any of it. he gives you a stern look before grabbing your wrist and placing your hand in his messy hair. "let me hear you." he states, his voice dark and commanding once again.

once harry's lips and tongue find their way to your nipples, you can't help but start to melt in his hands. whiny moans, gasps, and occasional curses fall from your lips watching harry's eyes flutter close as he enjoys pleasing you. your fingers become entangled in his hair, holding him closer to your chest.

however, harry soon grows impatient again, and your filthy noises certainly didn't help him.

he pulls you down from the table, making sure you're able to stand before quickly turning you around and pressing his erection against your ass. you moan at the feeling and grind against him, making harry's grip on your waist tighten as he lets out his own strangled moan.

you help harry remove your pants as his come off as well. only left in your underwear, harry's arms wrap around you from behind, his fingers softly running across the wet fabric covering your pussy. "fuck," he breathes against your ear, his other arm wrapping across your chest and bringing you further into him. "i need you."

harry's desperate tone sends another shiver across your skin, your mind practically short circuiting at the thought of him wanting you so badly.

harry bends you over the table, his chest against your back as he leaves rushed kisses along the nape of your neck. the cold surface of the lab table makes you gasp, your nipples hardening at the sensation.

"now," harry says, leaving one more kiss just under your ear. "what i want you to do," he continues, reaching for your open notebook across the table as well as your pen. "is be a good potions student, and write down my symptoms." he tells you as he sets the notebook in front of you and hands you the pen. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

you're a bit confused and nearly about to protest when you feel harry's fingers hook under your panties and pull them down hastily. you try to look back at him, but a hand quickly grabs your hair from behind and forces you to look back at your notes. "follow the rules, darling." harry's deep voice instructs you with a hint of a threat behind his words.

harry's grip on your hair only makes your pussy throb more. you can feel his other hand resting on the back of your thigh, his fingers running along the wet folds of your pussy, humming to himself at the warm feeling. just as you're about to start writing, you can feel harry slowly pushing a finger inside of you. your moan is strained at the unfamiliar feeling, but harry's tight grip in your hair loosens as he begins to comfort you. "just relax and let me take care of it, baby."

if you weren't wet before you certainly were now. your knees were weakening beneath you, forcing you to lean into the table for more support. you relaxed your body and breathed evenly, trying to shift your focus to the notes in front of you instead. your handwriting is shaky and uneven, biting your lip in an attempt to distract yourself from the desperate feeling growing inside you.

"go on, tell me what you wrote." harry teases. you groan in protest but attempt to speak anyway. "r-rapid, heartbeat," you manage to say before you start writing the next symptom. "d–" you try to speak, but you gasp as harry introduces another finger into your aching pussy.

harry chuckles, tightening his grip in your hair. "hm?" he asks, waiting for you to continue. you try to hold back your moans as you look back down at your notes, your eyes attempting to focus on your writing. "d-dilated…pupils…" you trail off, your eyes rolling back as harry's fingers thrust deeper into you. you can hardly keep your moaning under control and harry's loving every second of it.

"lack of…inhibitions," you breathe out, your handwriting barely legible the more you write. harry deep chuckle from behind you only distracts you further. your stomach is tight and your legs can barely hold you up anymore as you feel your high begin to build. just as it does, harry removes his fingers and leaves you feeling empty.

before you can whine, harry lets go of his grip on your hair and instead grabs your shoulders, pulling you up from the table a bit. holding yourself up with your arms, harry separates your feet with his. you can feel the head of his cock grinding against your wetness from behind.

harry's fingers end up in your mouth, making you taste yourself as he forces your head back to look at him. his eyes are entirely dark, no longer the inviting shades of blue you're so accustomed to. his smirk is evil, and his hair is sticking to his forehead from the excessive sweating. "i want to watch you take me." harry's voice is darker than his eyes, a cold, demanding force that takes what it needs.

with his fingers still holding your mouth open, you let out a pained moan at the overwhelming feeling of harry's cock pushing inside of you. despite his aggressive demeanor, harry remains gentle with you, giving you time to adjust to the feeling and carefully watching your expression. his eyes are practically sparkling with lust watching you lose yourself in the feeling of being filled by his cock.

"fuck," harry curses under his breath again. his other hand grabs for your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like you're the only thing keeping him standing. "feel so good, darling." harry places a messy kiss on your forehead before he begins thrusting into you again, slowly, enjoying every second he's inside of you.

you're nearly crying out in pleasure and desperation with the pathetic sounds coming from you. you can hardly move against harry's grasp, not that you were complaining, but you just needed more or else you would go insane.

you attempt to push your hips back to make harry get the message, and the smirk on his face tells you he got it right away. once he starts thrusting into you quicker, your mind goes blank. you can feel the drool start to drip out of your mouth and over harry's fingers, even down to your chest and the table top. harry is groaning at the sight of you becoming such a mess for him.

"looks like you needed this more than i did, hm?" harry teases, his lips so close to your ear you can feel them. you nod eagerly, your hands reaching for his arm holding your mouth open. you grip onto his forearm for stability, your eyes rolling back into your head at the overwhelming pleasure. he takes his fingers out of your mouth and instead holds your throat tightly. you gasp for air and wipe the drool from your lips.

soon both of your moans fill the room, the air sweaty and the table creaking beneath you. the fear of someone hearing you or getting caught no longer concerns you, if anything it just thrills you even more.

harry then reaches for your notes and pen again. you try hold the pen as well as you could. "i have one more symptom i want you to add," harry says between heavy breaths, becoming worn out and even more sweaty. you whine, but nod your head as you attempt to line your writing up with the rest.

you feel harry bend you further over the table, his chest hot against your back as he continues pounding into you. it's challenging trying to keep your eyes open and focused when you're completely blissed out with harry groaning in your ear.

"obsession," he hisses, his grip on your throat tightening as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

you try to write out the word, but you can hardly keep your hands steady. your stomach feels tight, your heart starts beating even faster, and you can feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm.

harry chuckles at your pathetic attempt at writing, but moves the notebook away anyway. "good girl." he commends you.

it's enough to bring you over the edge, your mouth dropping open with nasty sounds and eyes rolling back once more. harry groans into your ear as your pussy tightens around him, his thrusting becoming sloppy and tired.

"please," he breathes out just as you start coming down. "please, baby, can i cum inside you, please, please, i need it," harry's practically begging you, as if he even needed to ask.

"cum inside me, harry, please,"

"fuck," he moans again, his voice broken and needy. he's still desperately chasing his high, his hands sliding around to your stomach to feel himself pounding into you. "you're all mine, [y/n], all fucking mine." he growls into your ear. you could nearly cum again hearing harry fall apart behind you.

with a few more stuttering thrusts, harry cums inside you with another broken moan, bending you over the table again as his hands try to catch himself. his cock still fully inside you, you can feel his chest rising and falling on your back as he tries to catch his breath.

harry quickly gets off of you, almost in a rush. you turn to him and see his eyes are wide, his pupils shrinking back to their normal size, his hair nearly soaked in sweat. he tries his best to cover himself up, eventually grabbing for his pajama pants to put them back on. you're a bit lost at his reaction, hoping he didn't regret his actions so quickly.

"u-uhm, [y/n], i'm…i'm, so sorry," harry apologizes, his voice genuine and scared. he's wiping the sweat from his face, barely able to look at you. "i-i didn't mean for it to, f-for me to, um…" he's stumbling over his words, the same nervous harry you were so used to.

you smirked, crossing your arms in front of your chest to cover yourself a bit as well. "what, you didn't mean to fuck me over our lab table?" you ask smugly. harry's cheeks are completely flushed but he's trying his best to hide that from you, his hands covering his face.

"stop." he simply says, his voice meek and quiet. you giggle to yourself and step closer to him, admiring how pretty his sweaty skin looks in the dim lighting.

"hey," you say to him, stopping only about a foot away, completely naked and still shaking a bit. you reach for harry's arm and tug at it, making him uncover his face. he still doesn't dare look at you. "look, it's okay. that potion was extremely powerful, and we didn't know what would happen. as long as you feel alright that's all that matters, yeah? and, y'know, we can still be friends, even if you regret it..." you add the last part quietly, your voice breaking a bit.

harry looks up at you with guilty eyes. he's a bit distracted by your bare skin, but he can't stop looking back into your eyes. "please, don't take this as regret," he says, his eyebrows raised sympathetically. "i-i just, that's not…" he sighs, frustrated, looking away from you again. "it wasn't supposed to happen that way, our first time. n-not that i've thought about it that much," harry nervously interrupts himself, making you giggle once more.

harry looks back at you, his eyes wandering down to your chest. "u-uhm, just, you…if we ever did, y'know…you'd just deserve so much better than that," he tries to explain himself while clearly flustered.

you laugh again. "harry, i clearly enjoyed myself just then, didn't i? i mean, i don't know how it could've been much better." you admit, still in a teasing tone.

harry reaches for your shirt on the floor and offers to help you put it on. as he does you notice his eyes lingering on your chest again. "yes, but, i would've at least liked for you to have a bed to be comfortable on…" he says, knocking his knuckles against the hard surface of the table.

you roll your eyes at harry and reach for your pants as well. "well, maybe we can plan better for next time." you say with a smirk as you slip them on. harry straightens up from grabbing his shirt and looks at you with wide eyes again. "next time?" he asks innocently. you swear you could take him again right then and there, but you hold yourself back. "yeah, next time. if you'd like that." you offer him.

harry gives you that same shy smile he always has, and can barely hold himself back as he steps towards you and gives you a soft kiss on your lips. it's different, not hungry or full of lust, but rather warm and comforting. he pulls away after a moment to look at you, admiring your face in the light. "i'd love to." he whispers to you.

after helping you pack your stuff and clean up the table, harry offers to walk you back to your room with the invisibility cloak. you accept his offer and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, covering you both and walking you out of the lab and down the hallway.

before he leaves you for the night, harry can't help but snag another kiss, still as soft and loving as before with his hand resting on your cheek. you giggle into his lips, laying your forehead on his. "goodnight, harry." you say to him, readjusting your bag with your notebooks. "goodnight, my love." he tells you, unwrapping you from the cloak and leaving you with a swish.

the next morning you two had barely slept, sitting in potions class with matching eye bags and flushed cheeks. you could hardly look at the side of the table you were just bent over last night, and noticed harry smirking anytime he turned his head that way as well. his hands were subtly bumping into yours, as well as his knees, trying anything to get your attention during the other presentations. you just gave him a look, but couldn't help smiling at his gestures.

when it was your turn to present, harry let you do most of the talking and admired how passionately you spoke about the process to create the device. slughorn was more than impressed with your skill and knowledge, and awarded you and harry with top marks for your vaporizer.

"would there be any way to test the device?" he had asked curiously, holding it between his hands and examining it. "no!" you nearly exclaimed, taking it from his hands before he could even try. slughorn gives you a surprised look, but harry pipes up from behind you. "it's entirely too powerful to just try it out casually, sir." he says.

slughorn's eyebrows pinch together. "how so?" he asks. you and harry exchange awkward looks, both blushing and chuckling to yourselves. harry takes the device from you and puts it in his own pocket.

"just trust me, sir."

tag list: @gorlsinmultifandoms @mymoonmeow @treacletartlett @lucasinclairsgf @stvrlavs @dinomdubs

(if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, leave a comment or send me a message! if you like this please let me know, your comments make my day <3)

[cocobeanncteez]

The CEO Collision - Part Three

Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO!reader (f)

Warnings / content for Part Three: alcohol consumption, profanities, seonghwa is involved in a scandal, this part contains smut (mdni / 18+), oral (f and m receiving), penetration / piv, protected sex (pill). Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.

Word Count: 11.2k

Masterlist for The CEO Collision

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of work. Your schedule was packed from morning to night with meetings, strategy sessions, and overseeing new developments at your company. The company was preparing for the launch of its newest diagnostic imaging device, and every detail required your attention. From approving marketing materials to meeting with engineers to ensure production timelines were met, you barely had time to breathe.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was in Daegu for a business trip, overseeing a major expansion project for his own company. He was working closely with new suppliers and negotiating contracts, ensuring the company’s foothold in the region remained strong. The two of you were only able to meet twice these past few weeks with the presence of your families. But you stayed in touch through texts, though the messages were often brief—updates on your respective schedules, quick remarks about your days, and the occasional playful teasing.

It was a Thursday morning at work, and you knew you were going to have to work over the weekend too as you had to attend Yunho’s father’s retirement party tomorrow night. You dearly missed Seonghwa, and as if on cue, he messaged you.

Seonghwa: How’s the launch prep going? Still sane? You: Barely. If I see another typo in these reports, I might scream Seonghwa: You’re the CEO. Just yell. It’s therapeutic You: Sure, and scare my staff half to death? Seonghwa: Consider it a bonding exercise

You chuckled at his last message before putting your phone aside and getting back to work. Despite the distance, the tension from the last time you saw him didn’t dissipate. If anything, the brief moments of flirtation over text seemed to stoke the flames. You’d catch yourself rereading his messages, biting your lip as you thought about his smirk, his touch, the way he’d kissed you against your car and in his library.

But the busyness of your days left little time for daydreams.

A knock at your door was heard before Nari walked in, an anxious look on her face that immediately made you alert.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worried. “Please don’t tell me we lost data or something.”

“Oh, Ms. Y/N,” she cried, “Yunho said he wants to introduce me to his parents tomorrow night at his father’s retirement party! What should I do?!”

You blinked, processing Nari’s sudden outburst before letting out a small laugh of relief. “That’s it? Nari, you scared me half to death!”

“I’m sorry!” she wailed, clutching her phone tightly. “But this is serious! His parents! What if they don’t like me? What if I mess up? What if—”

“Nari,” you interrupted, standing up and walking over to her. “Take a deep breath.”

She nodded, inhaling sharply and exhaling slowly as you guided her to sit down. “Okay, I’m breathing. Now tell me what to do. I can’t mess this up!”

“You’re not going to mess this up,” you reassured her, pulling a chair over and sitting across from her. “Yunho adores you, right? He wouldn’t introduce you to his parents if he didn’t think they’d like you too.”

“But—”

“No buts. You’re charming, sweet, and smart. Just be yourself,” you said firmly. “And maybe tone down the worrying, just a little.”

Nari let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks flushing. “You’re right. I’m overthinking this, aren’t I?”

“Just a little,” you teased, offering her a smile. “Now, what are you wearing?”

Her eyes widened, the panic returning. “I have no idea! What’s the dress code? What if I’m overdressed? Or underdressed? Or—”

“Nari,” you said, holding up a hand to stop her spiral. “First of all, it’s a black-tie event. Second, I’ll help you pick something out after work, okay? You’ll be perfect.”

Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank you, Ms. Y/N. You’re a lifesaver.”

You laughed softly. “Just come over to my place tomorrow. There’s a whole team coming to doll my family up. I’ll have them bring some gowns for you too.”

“Deal,” she said, standing up. “I owe you.”

“Big time,” you teased as she left your office, a newfound spring in her step.

As the door closed, you leaned back in your chair, smiling to yourself. It was nice to see Nari so excited, even if she was a bundle of nerves. And while you wouldn’t admit it out loud, helping her plan for Yunho’s parents was a welcome distraction from your own thoughts about Seonghwa.

-

The next morning at work, you were really tired, and Nari was working at your desk while you laid down on the sofa in your office, trying to take a power nap.

You groggily opened your eyes, still feeling the effects of a restless night as you tried to adjust to the morning light. A loud gasp from Nari quickly jolted you awake, your senses on high alert.

"Y/N, you need to see this!" Nari’s voice was filled with disbelief, and she was already staring intently at her laptop screen.

You sat up from the couch, wiping sleep from your eyes. "What happened? Did something go wrong with the data?" you asked, already feeling a spike of concern.

Nari didn’t answer right away. Instead, she clicked her mouse, and before you could even get close, she gasped again, her hands shaking slightly as she pointed at the screen. "Look at this, Y/N."

You walked over, her frantic energy infectious, and peered at the screen. Your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw the headline:

“CEO Park Seonghwa Caught in Scandal with Young Actress Lee Yoona: A Relationship Blooming?”

The article included several pictures—one of Seonghwa dining with Lee Yoona, the 22-year-old actress, at a trendy restaurant, another showing the two of them walking out of the venue, looking comfortable with each other, laughing together as they left. But it was the final photo that made your stomach twist—Seonghwa carrying Yoona bridal-style into a hotel.

You stared at the image for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. Your mind tried to process the details, but your heart was already racing, caught somewhere between confusion and anger.

Nari leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper as she read the article aloud:

“CEO Park Seonghwa has been spotted multiple times in the company of actress Lee Yoona, sparking rumors about a blossoming romance between the two. The latest photos taken at a five-star restaurant in Daegu show the two enjoying a private dinner, followed by Seonghwa carrying Yoona to a hotel in a highly intimate gesture. The 8-year age gap has raised some eyebrows, but sources close to both parties suggest that their relationship is more than just a professional one. Lee Yoona is currently in Daegu, filming for her upcoming show ‘Are we in love?’ set to release later in the year, while the reason for CEO Park Seonghwa’s visit to Daegu is unknown.”

Nari clicked her tongue in disbelief. “This is crazy, Y/N. I don’t believe for a second that Seonghwa would do something like this. You and him…” She paused, turning to look at you, as if trying to gauge your reaction. "You’re sort of engaged, right? I mean, he wouldn’t—”

You couldn’t respond immediately, your brain still foggy from the overwhelming sensation of seeing Seonghwa with someone else so… intimately. “This can’t be real, right? He’s… with her? Just like that?” You let the words hang in the air, feeling the weight of them pull you down.

"Come on, Y/N, don't jump to conclusions." Nari’s voice was firm, trying to ground you in logic. "I’ve known Seonghwa for a while, and I honestly don’t think he’s like that. I think… I think the media just twisted things, like they always do. I mean, look at how they spun the dinner. Who knows? It could’ve been completely innocent. You’ve seen how the press exaggerates everything."

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog in your mind. "I don’t know, Nari. This is different. They were so close... Seonghwa's always been professional. But this—this isn’t professional."

Nari leaned back in her chair, her gaze softening. “I get it, I do. But don’t let this media storm get to you. You haven’t heard his side yet, right? And don’t forget, there’s always the possibility that this is nothing more than an innocent dinner, blown out of proportion.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling like you were about to fall apart. “I need to hear from him. I need to know what’s going on."

The article lingered in front of you like a bad dream, and all you could think about was how your world had just shifted in an instant.

Nari sighed, offering you a small smile. “I’ll support you no matter what, Y/N. But before jumping to conclusions, talk to Seonghwa. You deserve to know the truth straight from him.”

You nodded, still in disbelief, but the one thing you knew for sure was that you had to confront him. You needed clarity. This wasn’t something you could just ignore, especially with the way your heart was reacting to seeing him with someone else.

You reached for your phone, fingers trembling slightly as you unlocked the screen and stared at Seonghwa’s contact. Should you call him now? Or wait for him to reach out? You hesitated for only a moment before you hit his name and waited for him to pick up.

He didn’t pick up. There were no texts from him either. It was nearly one o’clock in the afternoon. Where was he?

Picking up your phone once again, you scrolled through his contact info and dialed his number, your heart racing as the call connected. The phone rang, and your stomach churned with each passing second.

Then—voicemail.

While you waited for Seonghwa to call you back, you looked up his name online, seeing dozens of articles about the scandal. As you scrolled through the articles, your heart sank with every new headline. The media had taken the story and spun it into something much worse than it probably was.

One article in particular caught your attention. It was a detailed write-up about Seonghwa and Lee Yoona, describing their dinner together at a well-known high-end restaurant in Daegu. According to the piece, Seonghwa had been seen laughing and chatting with her before they left together, with some sources claiming that they had been "inseparable" the entire evening. The most damning part of the article was the photo of Seonghwa lifting Yoona in his arms, carrying her bridal-style toward a hotel entrance late in the night. The paparazzi had captured the moment perfectly, making it look like something straight out of a romance movie—except it was far from romantic to you.

Your hands shook slightly as you read the speculation. According to the article, the two of them had been spending "increasingly intimate time together" and rumors of a relationship had started swirling ever since they were seen together at a gala a few months ago. There were comments from people who claimed to have "witnessed their chemistry" and one particularly nasty line about how Seonghwa had always been "a man of many loves."

You clenched your fists, a mixture of anger and confusion bubbling up inside you. How could he not tell you about this? If it was nothing, why hadn’t he reached out to clear the air? Why hadn't he said something before all of this? You trusted him, but now, everything seemed clouded in doubt.

The worst part was that you couldn't stop imagining the look on his face when he carried Yoona into that hotel. Could he have been with her? The idea gnawed at you, the jealousy and betrayal making your stomach twist.

But then, you remembered something—something important. You hadn't seen the whole story. You didn’t know the truth.

You took in a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. You had to give him the chance to explain. If Seonghwa was who you thought he was, this wouldn’t be the whole picture. There had to be a reasonable explanation. But then again, could there be?

You set your phone down for a moment, looking out the window, trying to calm yourself before your nerves completely took over. Why wasn’t he calling?

-

You stood near the entrance of the elegantly decorated ballroom, feeling the weight of the night pressing on your chest. The chatter around you was lively, the clinking of glasses and laughter echoing through the room, but you barely registered any of it. You had been at Yunho’s father’s retirement party for over an hour now, and still, there was no word from Seonghwa.

Your parents had been urging you not to jump to conclusions, insisting that you wait until you spoke to him directly. They kept telling you that these things often got blown out of proportion in the media. But despite their reassurances, you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach, the gnawing feeling that maybe you were wrong to trust him. Why hadn’t he reached out by now?

Yeosang and Yunho had been doing their best to distract you, introducing you to people you barely remembered and trying to keep the conversation light, but your mind was elsewhere. You could feel the tension building, making it harder to breathe. Every time your phone buzzed, you jumped—each time hoping it would be Seonghwa, but it never was.

Just then, Hongjoong appeared beside you, his eyes scanning the crowd before landing on you. He gave you a small smile, though there was concern in his gaze.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning in slightly so only you could hear. “You okay?”

You gave him a tight smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine. Just... waiting for Seonghwa to explain himself.”

Hongjoong’s brow furrowed, and he put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Look, Y/N, I know you’re upset, but Seonghwa? He’s not the type of guy to do something like that. I’ve known him for years, and I can tell you, he’s not that guy.”

You nodded, but your doubts remained. You had heard people say that before—he’s not that guy. But the articles didn’t lie, did they? He was photographed carrying Lee Yoona into a hotel, and the entire media had already decided what that meant. Could he really have just been helping her?

“But why hasn’t he called me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why hasn't he said anything about it?”

Hongjoong’s expression softened, and he gave you a sympathetic look. “I don’t know. He hasn’t responded to my texts yet either. He’s supposed to be here tonight. But believe me, he would never betray you like this.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did. But the silence between you and Seonghwa was stretching on for too long, and it hurt.

"I just don't get it," you murmured, turning your attention back to the people mingling around you. "He should’ve said something by now.”

Hongjoong’s gaze softened further as he gave you a comforting pat on the back. “I know. But he’s not the kind of guy to hide something like this from you. Don’t forget who he is, Y/N. He values honesty above everything.”

You nodded, though your heart still felt heavy. His words were a small comfort, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Every minute that ticked by without a word from Seonghwa seemed to make the situation worse.

“Maybe... maybe he’s just scared,” Hongjoong added after a pause, his voice thoughtful. “We both know Seonghwa. He doesn’t do well with conflict, especially when it comes to things that matter.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I just don’t understand why he hasn’t reached out. It’s not like him.”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t know how to explain himself,” Hongjoong said gently. “But he will. I’m sure of it. Just wait and see.”

You wanted to believe him. But every part of you was screaming for answers, and the longer you waited, the harder it became to stay calm.

Half an hour later, Seonghwa entered Yunho’s family mansion, his presence commanding immediate attention. Wooyoung followed close behind, an uncharacteristic seriousness in his expression. Ignoring the whispers and curious looks from the crowd, Seonghwa scanned the room until his eyes landed on Yunho. He crossed the room in long strides.

“Yunho,” Seonghwa said, his voice low but urgent. “Have you seen Y/N anywhere? I need to talk to her.”

Yunho studied him for a moment, then nodded toward the staircase. “She’s in the study upstairs. She needed to finish a call.”

Seonghwa didn’t waste a second, muttering a quick thanks before heading upstairs. He knocked on the study door before pushing it open. You were standing by the window, your phone still in hand, though it appeared the call had just ended. When you turned and saw him, your expression shifted, a mix of surprise and guarded relief.

“Seonghwa,” you said softly, though the tension in your voice was unmistakable.

“Y/N,” he began, closing the door behind him. “Please, let me explain everything.”

You didn’t move from your spot, but your posture relaxed slightly. “I’m listening.”

He let out a breath, his shoulders slumping as if a weight had been lifted by your willingness to hear him out. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t contact you. My phone—” He held it up, showing the shattered screen. “It’s completely broken. I… I got drunk after dropping Yoona at her hotel, and I must have broken it then. I know it was irresponsible of me, but I didn’t want to leave you in the dark like this. I… Wooyoung doesn’t have your number or Hongjoong’s so I had no way of contacting you. I knew you were coming tonight so I thought of speaking to you here directly.”

Your brows furrowed, concern flickering across your face despite the situation. “What happened, Seonghwa? I want to believe you, but the articles… they’re everywhere.”

He took a deep breath, stepping closer. “Believe me, Y/N, I know this looks really bad, but Yoona is like a younger sister to me, Y/N, and she sees me as an older brother. I would never… I couldn’t even think of her that way. Five years ago, her father—a terrible man—sold her to some man to pay off his gambling debts. She was just out of high school, terrified, and alone. She ran away, and I found her on the side of a road in Busan, badly beaten.”

Your eyes widened slightly, and the tension in your expression softened as you listened.

“I took her to the hospital, reported everything, and made sure those responsible were punished. I offered to support her college education, but she always wanted to pursue acting, so I introduced her to a friend’s agency. I helped her get an apartment here in Seoul. Since then, I’ve checked in on her occasionally to make sure she’s okay.”

You stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“As for the pictures of me carrying her… She had too much to drink and couldn’t walk properly. Wooyoung and another friend were with us the entire time, but the media conveniently left them out. They were passed out in the car from drinking, so I carried her to her room to make sure she was safe and then went back to my own hotel.”

Your gaze dropped to the floor for a moment before meeting his again. “Why didn’t you tell me about her before?”

“I should have,” Seonghwa admitted, guilt etched into his face. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “To be honest with you, no one other than Wooyoung knows about Yoona. Not even my parents—though they’ve certainly expressed their frustration with me now that this has come to light.”

Your expression softened slightly, the tension in your posture easing just a bit.

“I didn’t tell anyone because… well, money has never been an issue for me. I helped save her life because it was the right thing to do, not because I wanted recognition or acknowledgment. It felt private—her story, her struggles. And I thought keeping it that way would protect her.”

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. “Looking back, I realize I should’ve told you,” he said, moving to stand in front of you, taking your hands in his. “But I never thought it was relevant, not until the media twisted it into something it wasn’t.”

You considered his words, your initial hurt beginning to dissolve into understanding. “I get that you were trying to protect her, Seonghwa, and I respect that. But if we’re… if we’re going to move forward, I need to know that you trust me enough to share these parts of your life with me, even if they seem irrelevant to you.”

His eyes softened, and he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll do better. I promise.”

You hummed in response, your gaze dropping to your hands still intertwined with his. For a moment, the warmth of his touch distracted you, but a flicker of memory broke through—the times he had ignored you after those drunken nights together. The question burned on the tip of your tongue, aching to be asked.

But you were too drained to confront it now. Today had already been an emotional rollercoaster, and this wasn’t the right time or place. It was Yunho’s father’s retirement party, and you still wanted to spend time with your friends and acquaintances, not unravel more layers of this complicated situation.

Seonghwa’s thumb brushed against the back of your hand, drawing you back to the present. His brows furrowed slightly as he studied your face. “There’s something on your mind,” he said gently. “What is it?”

You shook your head quickly. “It’s nothing. I’m just… tired.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, clearly not buying your deflection. “Y/N, please. I can see there’s more to it than that.”

You hesitated, but before you could decide how to respond, he took a deep breath, his grip on your hands tightening slightly as if bracing himself. “Look… there’s something I… I need to say.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the seriousness in his tone.

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, his voice low but steady, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “I don’t expect an answer from you now. I just… I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Not after everything that’s happened… I just needed you to know that.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. His words hung heavily in the air, filling the space between you with a mix of tension, vulnerability, and unspoken possibilities.

Seonghwa took a cautious step closer, his hands still holding yours as if afraid you might pull away. His eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction.

“I know I’ve made mistakes,” he continued softly, his voice laced with regret. “And I know I haven’t always treated you the way you deserve. But I’m serious about this, about us. Even if I have to wait until you’re ready to believe me… I will.”

The sincerity in his words caused a lump to form in your throat. You blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the moment.

“Seonghwa…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

He smiled faintly, a bittersweet curve of his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

The vulnerability in his eyes was disarming, and for a moment, all the hurt and confusion from before seemed to melt away. But before you could process your emotions further, a distant voice from downstairs called your name, pulling you back to reality.

You took a deep breath, gently pulling your hands away. “I should go back to the party,” you said, your tone steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Seonghwa nodded, stepping back to give you space. “Of course. Just… take your time, Y/N. I’ll be here.”

You nodded, turning to leave the room, but paused at the door. Glancing back at him, you saw the faintest hint of a hopeful smile on his face.

As you walked down the staircase and rejoined the bustling party, your mind was anything but calm. His confession replayed in your head like a broken record, making it impossible to focus on the cheerful chatter around you.

Hongjoong approached, offering you a drink. “Everything okay?” he asked, his sharp eyes scanning your face.

You forced a smile, taking the glass from him. “Yeah. Just… a lot on my mind.”

He didn’t push, simply nodding and clinking his glass with yours. As the night went on, you found yourself stealing glances toward the stairs, wondering if Seonghwa was still upstairs, thinking about you the same way you were now unable to stop thinking about him.

-

The next morning, you were working from home. As you sat at your desk trying to focus on work, a notification lit up your phone screen. It was a breaking news alert with the title: "Statement from ATZ Entertainment about Actress Lee Yoona."

Hello, this is ATZ Entertainment.

False articles involving Actress Lee Yoona has been brought to our attention.

While it is true Lee Yoona was with Park Seonghwa, CEO of Byeol Materials Group, the nature of their relationship is strictly platonic and can best be described as that of an older brother and younger sister. On the evening in question in Daegu where Yoona is currently filming, Yoona joined Park Seonghwa and two of their close friends for dinner after a day of filming. During the course of the evening, Yoona unfortunately sprained her ankle, rendering her unable to walk without assistance. Park Seonghwa carried her to her hotel room to ensure her safety and left immediately after ensuring she was settled. The two friends who were present throughout the evening can also confirm these details.

The media’s selective use of images and omission of context has led to baseless and damaging speculations regarding Mr. Park and Ms. Lee. Both individuals have maintained a professional and friendly relationship over the years, with no romantic involvement whatsoever.

We urge the public to be discerning in their consumption of news and to avoid spreading unfounded rumors. ATZ Entertainment, in conjunction with Byeol Materials Group, will take legal action against individuals or entities who perpetuate false or malicious narratives that harm the reputations of either Lee Yoona or Park Seonghwa.

Thank you for your understanding and cooperation.

You could practically feel the weight of the statement as you read it out loud to Nari, who nodded approvingly. “That should definitely put things to rest,” she said confidently.

You hummed in agreement, though a small part of you still felt uneasy. The media had been relentless with its speculations, and you weren’t naive enough to think this would stop all the chatter. But at least now the truth was out there. And more importantly, Seonghwa’s words to you from last night echoed in your mind, solidifying your trust in him. Of course, you knew they would cover up the fact that Lee Yoona was drunk by claiming she sprained her ankle instead.

Nari stood up, a playful grin on her face. “Now that the drama’s clearing up, maybe you can start thinking about how you’re going to answer Seonghwa’s confession.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the heat rising to your cheeks. “Let’s focus on work, shall we?”

“Sure, boss,” she teased, stretching her arms above her head. “But don’t think I’m letting you avoid the subject forever.”

-x-x-x-

Dinner was unusually quiet, a rare occurrence in your family. Yeri was also present today. The clinking of utensils against plates filled the space, but the usual chatter was missing. You knew why—they were all waiting for the right moment to bring up the one topic everyone was thinking about.

Your father finally broke the silence, setting his glass down with a soft thud. “Y/N,” he began, his tone gentle but probing, “now that everything about Seonghwa has been cleared up, are you ready to move forward? Are you ready to get engaged to him?”

You paused, your fork hovering over your plate as the question settled in the air. All eyes were on you—your mother’s soft and encouraging gaze, Hongjoong’s more neutral but attentive expression, and Yeri’s subtle look of curiosity mixed with concern.

“I…” You hesitated, unsure of how to express the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

“Sweetheart,” your mother said, her voice calm and soothing, “we’re not trying to pressure you. We just want to understand how you’re feeling.”

Your father nodded. “Seonghwa is a good man. We’ve all seen that. But this decision has to come from you.”

Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. “He’s been through a lot to prove himself, Y/N. And let’s not forget he confessed to you. That’s not something he’d do lightly.”

Yeri chimed in, her voice softer than usual. “And you’ve always been careful with your heart, Y/N. But you’ve also been happier since Seonghwa’s been in your life. Do you love him?”

The question hit you like a bolt of lightning, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. “I care about him deeply… and I know I have feelings for him,” you admitted, your voice steady but thoughtful. “But love? That’s… that’s something I’m still trying to understand.”

Your father exchanged a glance with your mother before speaking again. “It’s a big step, Y/N. And it’s okay to take your time. But ask yourself this—what do you see when you think about your future? Do you see him in it?”

The room fell silent again, and you stared down at your plate, your thoughts running wild. Did you see Seonghwa in your future? The moments you’d shared with him flashed through your mind—the quiet conversations, the laughter, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, the way he held you while he kissed you.

Finally, you looked up, meeting their expectant gazes. “I don’t have an answer right now,” you said honestly. “But I know I need to talk to him… there’s something I need to ask him. I need to figure this out first, for myself and for us.”

Your mother smiled softly, reaching out to place her hand over yours. “That’s all we ask. Take your time, and trust your heart.”

Hongjoong gave you a supportive nod. “And if he screws up, I’ll handle it. He is my bestfriend after all.”

That drew a small laugh from you, easing some of the tension in the room.

Later that night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, their words replayed in your mind. The question wasn’t just about Seonghwa—it was about what you wanted, what you were ready for.

And deep down, you knew you needed to see him soon. You knew you had to ask him about the multiple times you slept with him and the way he treated it like as if nothing happened.

-

Seonghwa sat at one of Mingi's high-top tables, his tablet balanced precariously on a stack of coasters as he scrolled through bouquet arrangements. His brow was furrowed like he was negotiating a billion-dollar deal instead of picking flowers.

“Roses feel too cliché,” he muttered to himself, clicking to view another arrangement featuring peonies and eucalyptus.

“You know,” Wooyoung began, sipping his brightly colored cocktail with a ridiculous paper umbrella sticking out of it, “this is taking way too long. Just give her flower-shaped diamonds and call it a day.”

Seonghwa didn’t even look up. “Should I?”

Mingi, who was behind the bar mixing a drink, whipped around so fast he almost dropped his shaker. “What?”

Hongjoong, seated at the other end of the table nursing a glass of whiskey, snorted. “He’s kidding.”

Seonghwa paused, looking up from the tablet, his expression unreadable.

“Oh my god, he’s actually considering it!” Wooyoung cackled, slapping his thigh. “I mean, imagine her reaction. Flower-shaped diamonds, Seonghwa. You’d be the most romantic guy in the history of romance. Ever.”

Seonghwa’s lips twitched like he was seriously considering it. “It would be efficient,” he said thoughtfully. “Flowers and jewelry in one.”

Mingi groaned loudly, slamming his shaker on the bar. “You’re not serious.”

“Don’t tempt him,” Hongjoong muttered, swirling the ice in his glass.

“No, no, let’s lean into this,” Wooyoung said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Add in a gold vase to hold the diamond flowers, and boom! The ultimate gift.”

Hongjoong choked on his drink, coughing violently. “Gold vase? Are you insane? You’re going to bankrupt him for life!”

Wooyoung laughed loudly. “Yooo our company is struggling, you could actually end up bankrupt!”

“Not likely,” Seonghwa replied smoothly, still scrolling through the bouquets.

Mingi leaned on the bar, pointing an accusing finger at Seonghwa. “If you actually show up with diamond flowers, I’m banning you from this bar. Forever.”

“Noted,” Seonghwa said dryly, but his small smirk betrayed him. In the end, as they continued their banter, he bookmarked a bouquet of white tulips, lavender, and garden roses. Simple, elegant, and meaningful—just like the person he had in mind.

Mingi leaned against the counter, casually swirling a drink in his hand as he eyed Seonghwa. “So, Mr. Park, when’s the big engagement happening? Got a date set, or are we still in the ‘waiting for permission’ phase?”

Seonghwa sighed, setting his glass down. “There’s no date yet, Mingi. Y/N hasn’t even said yes to the idea of us being engaged.”

Wooyoung gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Are you telling me you, Park Seonghwa, the epitome of everything women dream of, haven’t locked this down yet? What is she waiting for? A meteor shower? A handwritten letter from Cupid?”

“Or maybe she’s just sensible,” Mingi cut in, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not everyone is swept off their feet by Seonghwa’s brooding CEO charm.”

“I’d argue it’s the lack of charm,” Wooyoung muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Seonghwa.

“She promised to give us a chance and get to know me better,” Seonghwa said evenly, though there was a flicker of vulnerability in his tone. “I want her to feel comfortable with the idea before anything happens. She deserves that.”

Mingi nodded thoughtfully. “Fair enough. But do you think she’ll say yes eventually?”

Seonghwa hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. That’s up to her. I can’t force it. All I can do is show her how serious I am about this… about her.”

Wooyoung snorted. “Serious? Please. You’re practically one step away from carving her name into your desk like some lovesick teenager.”

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa said warningly, though a faint blush dusted his cheeks.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Wooyoung shot back, grinning. “I’m just saying, if you want her to say yes, you should make a grand gesture. You know, flowers, fireworks, maybe even a plane with a banner that says ‘Marry Me, Y/N.’”

“Do you hear yourself?” Seonghwa asked, exasperated.

“Actually, the flowers idea isn’t bad,” Mingi mused. “Not the plane, though. That’s overkill. But… Isn’t this one of those mutual agreements? Like, you both sit down with your parents and say, ‘Okay, let’s do it on this date with this theme?’”

“That’s how it usually works in families like ours,” Seonghwa admitted. “But…” He trailed off, his fingers idly tapping the edge of his glass.

“But?” Wooyoung pressed, his grin widening.

“I’d rather propose,” Seonghwa said finally, his voice quiet but firm.

The table went silent for a moment before Wooyoung let out a dramatic gasp. “What?! Mr. Tradition himself wants to go rogue?!”

Mingi burst out laughing. “Rogue? He just wants to be romantic, you idiot,” Mingi said, before his tone dropped to a more sincere one. “She deserves to feel special, hyung. If proposing is what feels right to you, then do it. Forget all that business nonsense for a second.”

Hongjoong smirked, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Listen to them for once, Hwa. They’re making sense. For once.”

Seonghwa chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “You’re all impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible but wise,” Wooyoung said, tipping his glass toward Seonghwa. “So are we getting involved? Do I get to sprinkle flower petals or something?”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, but the small, genuine smile playing on his lips said it all. “We’ll see.”

But deep down, as the laughter and teasing continued, Seonghwa was already envisioning the perfect moment. One that would show you just how much he cared—beyond business, beyond expectation, beyond everything.

-x-x-x-

The grandeur of the evening was almost overwhelming, even by your family’s standards. You were at an exclusive charity gala hosted at a sprawling estate, complete with chandeliers, a live orchestra, and servers weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes and hors d'oeuvres.

Dressed in a sleek navy gown, you stood by your parents and Hongjoong, exchanging pleasantries with various guests. Across the room, you spotted Seonghwa with his parents, his sharp black suit highlighting his striking features. He was speaking with an older couple, but his gaze kept flickering in your direction.

“Y/N, Hongjoong, come meet the Baek family,” your father said, steering you both toward an elegantly dressed couple. Beside them stood two men—one looked to be in his late 30s, his wedding ring catching the light as he sipped his drink. The other, however, appeared younger, perhaps in his early 30s. His tailored suit and confident smile screamed wealth and charm.

“This is Mr. and Mrs. Baek,” your father introduced, “and their sons, Baek Hyunwoo and Baek Youngha. They run Baek Pharmaceuticals.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said politely, extending your hand.

Baek Youngha’s handshake lingered just a moment too long, his eyes sweeping over you in a way that felt deliberate. “The pleasure is mine, Ms. Kim. I’ve heard a lot about Aurum Medical Technologies. Impressive work for someone so young.”

“Thank you,” you replied with a polite smile, stepping back slightly to create some distance.

As the conversation flowed, Youngha seemed particularly interested in you, asking about your work and future plans. Hongjoong, ever the protective brother, subtly stepped in to steer the conversation whenever it veered too personal.

From across the room, Seonghwa’s jaw tightened. He had noticed the way Baek Youngha’s gaze lingered on you, his expression far too appraising for Seonghwa’s liking.

“Who’s that?” Jongho asked, following Seonghwa’s line of sight.

“Baek Youngha,” Seonghwa muttered. “Youngest son of Baek Pharmaceuticals. And apparently, he doesn’t know how to keep his eyes to himself.”

San smirked, sipping his drink. “Jealous much?”

“Not jealous,” Seonghwa replied, his tone clipped. “Just observant.”

San raised an eyebrow. “Right. Observant. That’s why you’re glaring daggers at the guy.”

Meanwhile, you felt Seonghwa’s eyes on you but tried to focus on the conversation. Youngha leaned in slightly, his tone conspiratorial. “If you ever want to discuss potential collaborations between Aurum and Baek Pharmaceuticals, I’d be happy to arrange a private meeting.”

Before you could respond, Hongjoong interjected smoothly. “I’m sure any discussions like that would need to go through the proper channels. Our teams can coordinate if necessary.”

Youngha chuckled, clearly unbothered. “Of course. I’m just offering my personal insight.”

“Insight is always welcome,” you said politely, though you could feel Seonghwa’s gaze boring into the side of your head.

As the conversation wrapped up, you excused yourself to get a drink, feeling the need to escape the intensity of the interaction. Seonghwa seized the opportunity, making his way across the room to intercept you at the bar.

“You seemed… popular over there,” he remarked, his tone light but his eyes serious.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Just networking.”

“Networking,” he repeated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s one way to describe it.”

You tilted your head, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Why, Mr. Park, are you jealous?”

His eyes darkened slightly, leaning in just enough for only you to hear. “I don’t get jealous. But I do protect what’s mine.”

The heat in his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the bustling gala seemed to fade into the background. “Am I yours, Seonghwa?” you asked softly, testing the waters.

He straightened, his expression softening but still intense. “I’d like you to be.”

Before you could respond, Hongjoong appeared, his timing impeccable as always. “Y/N, we have another family to meet.”

You glanced back at Seonghwa, his gaze unwavering. “We’ll talk later,” he said, his voice low but filled with promise.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the pull between you growing stronger, the line between business and personal becoming increasingly blurred.

After speaking to couple more people, you excused yourself from a conversation, making your way over to the bar for another drink. The evening had been exhausting enough, and you needed a moment to yourself. As you reached the bar and picked up a glass of wine, a voice cut through the soft hum of conversations.

“Y/N! Over here!”

You turned to see Youngha waving at you with a grin, standing in a corner with San, Jongho, Seonghwa, and Hyunwoo. His invitation was warm, almost too eager, and you hesitated for a moment before walking over.

As you approached, Youngha pulled out a chair for you from the table right beside them with an exaggerated flourish. “Come join us. We were just discussing how someone like you probably has all the answers to the medical industry’s problems.”

You offered a polite smile as you sat down. “I highly doubt that, but I’m happy to join the conversation.”

Youngha leaned in slightly, his gaze lingering a little too long. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. From what I’ve heard, you’re quite the trailblazer. Smart, accomplished, and strikingly beautiful—a rare combination.”

San and Jongho exchanged a quick glance, their eyes darting toward Seonghwa, whose expression was unreadable but clearly strained. He stood slightly to the side, his arms crossed, watching the exchange with a carefully controlled demeanor.

“Thank you,” you replied, maintaining your composure. “I’m just doing my best, like everyone else.”

“You’re far too modest,” Youngha said with a chuckle, his tone playful but with an undercurrent of something else. “Someone like you deserves recognition. Maybe even someone who can match your ambition and drive.” His hand brushed lightly against the back of your chair, his intent far from subtle.

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened, and he straightened, his presence suddenly commanding. “Recognition is earned through hard work, not flattery,” he said, his voice calm but carrying a sharpness that cut through the air.

Youngha smirked, unfazed. “True, but a little encouragement never hurts, does it?” He glanced at you, his smile widening. “Y/N seems to appreciate it.”

“I’m sure Y/N appreciates sincerity more than hollow compliments,” Seonghwa countered, his eyes narrowing slightly.

San coughed to stifle a laugh, and Jongho took a sip of his drink, hiding his amusement. The tension between the two men crackled in the air, and you could feel it radiating off Seonghwa in waves.

“I assure you, my compliments are anything but hollow,” Youngha said smoothly, raising his glass toward you. “To Y/N, for being an exceptional presence in a room full of ordinary people.”

You tried to redirect the conversation, not wanting things to escalate further. “That’s very kind of you, but I think we’re all extraordinary in our own ways.”

Youngha chuckled, tilting his head toward Seonghwa. “Perhaps some of us have to work a little harder to stand out.”

Seonghwa’s smile was tight, his voice measured. “It’s not about standing out, Youngha. It’s about substance. Something you can’t fake.”

The subtle jab didn’t go unnoticed, and Youngha’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered. “Substance, of course. But let’s not forget that charm has its own value.”

“Charm fades,” Seonghwa replied coolly, his eyes locked on Youngha’s. “Substance lasts.”

San leaned over to Jongho, whispering, “This is getting spicy. Should we step in?”

Jongho shook his head, a sly grin on his face. “Not a chance. This is better than a drama.”

You cleared your throat, desperate to break the tension. “Well, this has been an interesting discussion, but I think I need some air.”

Youngha stood immediately, offering his hand. “Allow me to escort you—”

“She’ll be fine,” Seonghwa interjected, stepping closer to you, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hand lightly grazed your elbow, guiding you away from the group.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but notice the heat in Seonghwa’s gaze and the way his touch lingered just a little too long. Youngha watched you both with a knowing smirk, but Seonghwa didn’t look back.

Seonghwa led you toward the balcony, away from the hum of voices and the clinking of glasses. The night air was crisp and cool, a welcome contrast to the tension you’d just escaped, and you were glad there was no one else at this balcony.

“Something bothering you?” you asked innocently, your voice laced with teasing undertones.

He turned to face you with a sharpness in his gaze that made your breath hitch. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice cool, though his eyes burned with something far hotter.

You smirked, tilting your head as you took a step closer, your boldness amplified by the wine you’d been nursing earlier. “I think Baek Youngha got under your skin.”

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a thin line. “He’s irrelevant.”

“Is he?” you pressed, your tone deliberately playful. “Because from where I was seated, he seemed to be having a lot of fun trying to charm me. And you seemed… tense.”

“I wasn’t tense,” he snapped, too quickly, his eyes narrowing at the curve of your lips. “I was just—”

“Jealous?” you finished for him, stepping closer until you were inches apart, your voice dropping into something softer, almost daring. “You didn’t like the way he was looking at me, did you?”

His breath caught for a fraction of a second, his composure slipping just enough for you to notice. “He shouldn’t have been looking at you like that,” he muttered, his voice low, dangerous. “And you shouldn’t have been entertaining it.”

“Entertaining it?” You laughed softly, your fingers brushing the edge of his cuff as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “What if I was?”

His eyes darkened, his hand shooting out to catch your wrist, holding it firmly but gently. “Don’t test me, Y/N,” he warned, his voice a husky murmur that sent a shiver down your spine.

You raised a brow, your smirk widening as you leaned closer, your voice a whisper. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Seonghwa. I think I might.”

His grip on your wrist tightened just slightly, his free hand coming up to your waist, hovering there like he wasn’t sure whether to pull you closer. “You’re playing with fire yet again, sweetheart,” he said, his tone rough, a warning, but there was no mistaking the flicker of desire in his eyes.

“Maybe I want to get burned again,” you replied boldly, your heart pounding in your chest.

Before he could respond, a voice interrupted the moment. San appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his timing impeccable as always. “There you are,” he said casually, glancing between the two of you. “Thought I’d find you here. Hongjoong is looking for you.”

You chuckled, grateful for the interruption, though the lingering heat of Seonghwa’s words stayed with you. “Guess we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Seonghwa gave you a small smile before stepping back, allowing you to lead the way.

You rejoined the crowd, a polite smile plastered on your face as your thoughts raced. Seonghwa’s intense gaze lingered in your mind, and despite your best efforts, the memory of his voice—low and dangerous—sent a thrill through you.

Hongjoong appeared by your side, handing you a fresh glass of champagne. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”

You laughed lightly, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine. Just a bit warm in here.”

“Uh-huh,” he said skeptically, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Seonghwa and the little disappearing act you two pulled earlier, would it?”

You choked on your drink, glaring at your brother. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you and lover boy vanished for a good five minutes and came back looking… well, let’s just say the air around you was heavy,” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Hongjoong, please,” you muttered, your cheeks heating. “It was nothing. Nothing happened.”

“Sure,” he drawled, clearly unconvinced. “Well, just a heads-up—Youngha hasn’t stopped staring at you since you walked back in. And Seonghwa hasn’t stopped glaring at him.”

You glanced across the room, spotting Youngha chatting with some older businessmen. True to Hongjoong’s words, his gaze flickered to you more often than not. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was leaning against the bar, his expression unreadable as his eyes followed your every move.

The tension was palpable, and the evening dragged on as you navigated small talk and pleasantries. At one point, Mrs. Baek found you, her warm smile a contrast to the subtle competitiveness in her tone as she spoke about her sons and their achievements.

“Youngha’s been asking about you,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “It’s rare for him to show interest in anyone at these events.”

You smiled politely, feeling the weight of her words. “That’s flattering. But I’m not sure he and I have much in common.”

“Perhaps not,” she mused, “but sometimes opposites attract.”

Before you could respond, Seonghwa appeared at your side, his presence commanding as always. “Mrs. Baek,” he greeted smoothly, his voice polite but cool. “I hope you’re enjoying the evening.”

“Oh, I am,” she replied, her smile faltering slightly under his steady gaze. “Y/N was just telling me how charming my younger son, Youngha, is. I take it you have certainly met my son before?”

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, but his smile didn’t waver. “Youngha is certainly… persistent,” he said, his tone carrying just the slightest edge.

You bit back a laugh, feeling the tension crackling between them. “Excuse us, Mrs. Baek,” Seonghwa said suddenly, his hand brushing your lower back as he guided you away. “I need to borrow Ms. Kim here for a moment.”

Once you were out of earshot, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Jealous again?”

He stopped, turning to face you with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Right,” you drawled, crossing your arms. “So that little comment about Youngha being persistent was just casual observation?”

“Call it what you want,” he replied, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “But I wasn’t about to let Mrs. Baek start matchmaking you with him.”

You rolled your eyes, your lips twitching in amusement. “I can handle myself, you know.”

“I know,” he said, his voice softening. “But I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Something in his tone made your breath catch, and for a moment, the noise of the gala faded into the background. His hand lingered at your back, his touch warm and grounding.

“Let’s just get through tonight,” you said finally, your voice quieter. “No more drama.”

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “No more drama.”

After the gala successfully concluded and you had dinner, you headed back home with your family, Seonghwa trailing behind as he needed to collect some documents from Hongjoong’s office. The ride had been mostly quiet, everyone tired from the long evening.

Once home, your parents quickly retired to bed, muttering about early meetings the next day. Hongjoong and Seonghwa lingered in the office room, discussing business matters, but even your brother eventually called it a night, leaving Seonghwa alone in the hallway. Meanwhile, you had settled in the living room, still buzzing with energy from the evening. You had just finished a call with Yeri when you saw Seonghwa emerging from the office, car keys in hand.

“Heading out?” you called, standing up and walking over to him.

He turned, surprised to see you still awake. “Yeah, I was just about to.”

“Stay a bit?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “If you’re free, that is.”

His expression softened, the faintest smile breaking through his usual composed demeanor. “Are you sure? It’s late.”

“I don’t sleep early anyway,” you replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Come on then. Let’s chill in my room.”

He raised an eyebrow, but there was no mistaking the amusement in his expression. “Your room?”

“What? Too scandalous for you, Mr. Park?” you teased, already heading toward the stairs. “Don’t worry. I’ll behave.”

“I’m more worried about myself,” he muttered under his breath, though he followed you up the staircase.

You opened your bedroom door and stepped inside, gesturing for him to follow. “Make yourself comfortable.”

His gaze swept over the space as he entered. Your room was an eclectic mix of modern chic and cozy charm, a reflection of your personality. He walked toward the small seating area near the window, pausing to look at the neatly arranged books on your shelf.

“Nice setup,” he said, glancing back at you. “Very you.”

“Thanks,” you replied, sitting cross-legged on your bed. “What do you think? Should I add a shrine for all my business awards?”

“That might be overkill,” he deadpanned, though the corners of his mouth twitched.

“You’re no fun.” You reached for the remote on your nightstand, turning on the ambient lights that cast a soft glow across the room. “I’m going to change out of this. Be right back.”

Seonghwa nodded and took a seat on the chair near your window, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he nodded. “Take your time.”

With a small smile, you walked into your walk-in closet, flipping the light on. You set your bag on the shelf and began unclasping your jewelry, placing each piece carefully in its box. The faint murmur of Seonghwa shifting in the other room was the only sound as you reached behind to unzip your dress.

But the zipper refused to budge.

“Seriously?” you muttered, twisting and turning to no avail. After a minute of struggling, you gave up with an exasperated sigh.

Poking your head out of the closet door, you found Seonghwa leaning back in the chair, one leg crossed over the other. His suit jacket and tie were taken off, and the first two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. He glanced up when he noticed you, his brows arching in question.

“Uh… can you help me?” you asked, walking over to him, your tone casual despite the heat rising to your cheeks. “My zipper’s stuck.”

His expression flickered with surprise, then amusement, though he didn’t hesitate to rise from the chair. “Of course.”

Turning your back to him, you felt the warmth of his presence as he stood close behind you. His hands hesitated at first before pushing your hair to one side and then hovering near the zipper.

“Here?” he asked softly, his voice low and careful.

“Yeah.” You nodded, your voice barely audible.

His fingers brushed against your back as he took hold of the zipper, sending a shiver down your spine. Slowly, he tugged it down, the sound of the unzipping loud in the quiet space. The fabric loosened, revealing more of your skin inch by inch. His touch was light, deliberate, but the tension in the air was anything but.

“There,” he murmured when he reached the small of your back, his voice rougher than before.

You turned to face him, clutching the gown to your chest to keep it from slipping. “Thanks,” you said, though the words came out softer than intended.

His eyes met yours, dark and unreadable, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The confined space seemed to shrink as the charged silence stretched. His gaze dropped briefly to your exposed shoulder, then back to your face, and the intensity in his expression made your pulse race.

“You should…” He trailed off, but his voice had a husky edge now. “Finish changing.”

A slow, mischievous smile spread across your lips. “You’re right,” you said, your tone deliberately light, even as you felt the heat rolling off him. “But it’s much more fun to see you like this.”

“Like what?” he asked, his voice lower now, though his composure was clearly slipping.

“Like you’re trying very hard to look anywhere but here.” You gestured to your bare shoulder with a teasing flick of your fingers, stepping closer.

He took a steadying breath, his hands curling into loose fists at his sides. “I’m not trying anything,” he replied, though the slight rasp in his tone betrayed him. He lightly cleared his throat. “Anything else you need?” he asked, his tone laced with challenge.

You stepped closer, tilting your head. “Depends,” you murmured, the gown slipping slightly under your grip, exposing more of your chest that immediately caught his eyes. “Can you handle more than a zipper?”

His jaw clenched, his composure visibly cracking. “Y/N…” The way he said your name was almost a warning, but his hand rose, skimming your bare arm before settling firmly on your waist.

“What?” you teased, your lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “Afraid you’ll lose control?”

“I’m not afraid, sweetheart” he shot back, his voice low and gravelly. “But you’re pushing me again.”

“And?” you whispered, closing the distance between you. “What are you going to do about it?”

His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “This,” he growled, before capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but hesitant.

The dress slipped from your grasp, pooling at your feet, leaving you in your matching navy lingerie, but you couldn’t have cared less. His hands were on you, strong and unrelenting, and the heat between you burned away any pretense of restraint as the kiss deepened into something raw, urgent, and utterly consuming.

Seonghwa’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you impossibly closer, his touch both possessive and reverent. You matched his energy, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly to elicit a low groan from him that vibrated against your lips. It sent a jolt of electricity straight through you, making you press even closer, as though the two of you couldn’t get close enough no matter how hard you tried.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and breathless.

You smirked, brushing your lips against his again in a teasing kiss. “I might have an idea.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re driving me fucking insane.”

“And yet, you can’t stay away,” you shot back, your boldness fueled by the fire between you.

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, his tone dropping, heavy with meaning. His lips found the curve of your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses that made your knees weak. You leaned into him, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as his mouth continued its maddening path along your skin.

“Seonghwa…” you breathed, your voice a mix of need and warning.

His name on your lips seemed to snap something in him, and he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet filled with a tension that left no room for doubt. “If this is too much, tell me now.”

You met his gaze steadily, your hands slipping down to the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t want you to stop,” you said while undoing the buttons and pushing his shirt off him. “I want this. I want you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips crashed into yours once more, and this time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. He lifted you effortlessly, guiding you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed. You sank onto it, pulling him down with you, your bodies moving in sync as if they’d always known exactly how to fit together.

Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word fueled the fire between you, the room around you fading into oblivion. All that existed was him—his hands, his lips, his presence, consuming you in a way that felt exhilarating.

He pulled away from kissing you to trail kisses from your neck to the valley of your clothed boobs. Your hard nipples were visible beneath the lacy fabric and Seonghwa delicately placed kisses on each one before continuing his journey down your body until he reached the waistband of your thong.

“May I?” he asked for consent, and you nodded in response. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes… please,” you said, hips slightly bucking up in urgency, making him chuckle.

“So needy for me.” He pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing it aside. He gently spread your legs wide apart before moving to settle in between your legs. He latched onto your clit, his wet tongue darting out to lick the bud. Your hand moved into his hair, gently tugging on his long strands, and your body feels like it’s on fire. He licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, letting out a small moan at your taste. He repeats his actions a couple of times before latching onto your clit again, gently sucking the nub. You squirm, bucking your hips up, and he smirks, moving his arms around your thighs to hold you down in place so you couldn’t move.

“Hwa… god, fuck,” you moan. He hums before lapping at your clit in a faster pace that had you gripping his hair. He let go of one of your thighs to bring his hand to your hole, slipping a finger inside while continuing to lap at your clit, the combination sending you into a moaning spree. It felt so so good, and you chanted his name over and over again while he increased his pace. The knot in your lower abdomen tightened and your hips kept bucking up.

Seonghwa knew you were close, and he continued his actions until you were crying out his name, your orgasm washing over you in waves, your body shaking in response. He licked up all your juices before letting your thighs go, putting his fingers in his mouth to suck them dry. “Delicious,” he commented, and you chuckled breathlessly before you sat up and reached out to his pants. He understood what you wanted and pushed his pants down swiftly along with his briefs, his cock springing out, the tip already a bit leaky.

You moved to wrap your hand around his dick, pumping it a few times. Your thumb brushed along his slit, spreading his pre-cum around. He audibly sucked in a breath through his teeth and you leaned forward to take his cock in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down his length, trying to take him as much  as you can in your mouth, using your hand to cover his remaining length. His hand moved to hold your hair back while he watched you suck him off. His cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to lightly gag, but you continued your movements on him.

“Y/N… my love… fuck…” he murmured, throwing his head back. You hum, the vibration earning a groan from him. You let his cock slip from your mouth and before you could take him in again, he stopped you. “I’d rather cum in you, sweetheart, if that’s okay?”

“That’s okay,” you said and sit up on your bed, patting the space beside you. Seonghwa sat down and you wasted no time in straddling his lap. “I’m on the pill,” you inform him before aligning his dick with your entrance. You leaned in to take his lips in yours while you sunk down on his cock, moaning at the way he stretched you out.

“So fucking tight, so warm,” he muttered against your lips before kissing you again. You gave yourself a minute to adjust, slowly rolling your hips against his before picking up the pace. His hands were wrapped around your body, holding you in place while you bounced on his dick. The sound of skin slapping, heavy breathing, and your moans filled the air and you were grateful that your room was soundproof.

In one swift step, Seonghwa moved you onto your back so he could take control. He thrusted in and out of you in a comfortable pace, your legs moving around his waist. You pulled him even closer, and you felt him go deeper. “Seonghwa…” you cried out his name when he kept repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

He wet a finger with his mouth before bringing it to your clit, rubbing the nub in up and down motions. Your back arched while he fucked your pussy, and before you knew it, you reached your climax, legs shaking rigorously.

“I’m almost there, sweetheart, hold on,” he said, leaning down to reconnect your lips while he moved faster. In a few more seconds, he stilled, spilling his cum into you, his cock pulsing. He moved slowly, milking himself dry before pulling out and collapsing next to you. The two of you laid on your bed in silence, trying to calm down your heavy breathing.

Seonghwa reached out to cup your face with one hand, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. He glanced around your room, looking for something.

“Where are your tissues?” he asked.

“In the bathroom,” you replied, sitting up. Before you could get off the bed, he put his arm around your back and under your knees, lifting you up bridal-style while he carried you to the bathroom. You giggled in response, earning a wide grin from him before he set you down in your bathroom. He washed his hands while you peed and cleaned yourself, and you noticed the way his body glistened with a thin layer of sweat. God, he was so beautiful.

You moved to wrap your arms around him from behind, looking at his reflection in the large mirror of your bathroom. He placed his hands over yours, a happy and relaxing sigh leaving him. “How do you feel?”

“I feel great,” you said with a smile. “How do you feel?”

“Rejuvenated.” You chuckled at that.

“Shower with me?” you asked innocently.

How could he ever say no?

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE STRATEGY CALL

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. in which the stark racing f1 team talks about the 2025 strategy and beyond

content warnings. written in 3rd person

word count. 1.4k words

notes. with this chapter i wanted to involve a bit of politics and 'realistically' explain why stark racing won't immediately win a wdc (because with the whole set up, it would be possible). f1 are politics and no matter how many drivers say cash is king, connections have sometimes more worth

"welcome, everyone. thank you for tuning in", greets tony with a big smile on his face, spreading his arms as if going in for a hug.

"as you can see, i'm not currently with any departement, i'm doing the finishing touches in my own lab back in new york... since i don't want to drag anyone here to the US for meetings, we will proceed like this until january next year."

"now, i know it will be annoying with dragging your equipement with you and it's also unsafe, since you know... data secrets bla bla- so, in the next few days, each stark racing employee will receive the so called 'tactical intelligence glasses', which you can see me wearing. it's voice activated and can only be used by the one who sets it up, which will be you!" while speaking, tony fiddles with a pencil in his hand and starts walking around in his lab, showcasting it to every viewer.

"to cut things short, you'll receive a tutorial on how to use these glasses and set them up once you receive them. if you ever lose them, don't worry, we can track them. destroying them is pretty hard, but please don't try to make it a challange... our plan is to use them not only during meetings but also during the race, to keep our data from the cameras. with netflix, paparazzi and other cameras from the news, it's easy to steal data that shouldn't be accessible."

"alright then", he ends his ramblings with a clap, "we're going over the interesting part now. let's talk strategy..."

y/n let's her father's voice wash over her, her own glasses perched on her nose and feeding her constant information. in front of her are two holograms, projected by the hologram table in the meeting room she's currently in. the standing figure of her father and the presentation he's currently rattling off, all of it in a glowing blue.

next to her sits kevin, her future teammate, exhausted from the long 24 season but still paying attention. the rest of the room is filled with their team, the race engineers and trainers- each of them having their own glasses on.

to outsiders it looks like they're clowns, but it's a common sight in stark industries. decades ahead of the general public, stark stands for the future. of course they're trying to push it to the outer world, selling hologrammic equipement to both the industry but also private customers, but it's a slow progress.

the marketing team of SI hopes with their public use of the glasses and other devices they'll attract more customers, leaving the age of apple and samsung behind and instead welcoming the age of holograms. powered by starkanium, the production of phones, tablets, computers- anything really, is much cheaper and enviroment friendly than what's currently dominating the market.

shaking her head, y/n focuses on the presentation again. of course she knows it by heart already, she helped writing it, brooding over the strategy with the team ever since the team got announced.

"... the plan is to finish between 5th-3rd on the construction championship. not higher, not lower. we don't want to place higher, because this is our testing season. we will be practically sandbagging from the beginning, not revealing our true power for 2026."

yes... the construction championship. it will bring in money, not that they would need it, but it will justify the expenses they're going to make during the season to prepare for their second one. y/n is under no illusion, if they want, they could go all out and snag at least p2, if not p1. maybe she would even get her world championship- only then for everyone to say she won because she's driving a stark machine and not because of her own skill.

it sounds arrogant, she knows. but y/n believes, no, she doesn't only believe, she knows, she is one of the best in the whole world. if she can go against her father in an iron man suit, who can be only piloted by less than ten people in the world... winning in an f1 car is nothing.

but they've already made enemies for not waiting until 2026 like audi, 'enemies', who have much more pull within the motorsport world than them, simply because they're already established. christian horner is one, followed by toto wolff, the iconic red racing team not far behind.

with they're entry, they didn't make friends on the paddock, so for their first season... they can't be too good. or else their future seasons will be ruined.

it's stupid, to think like this, to think so far ahead, to think of others, in a sport where winning is everything. but it's not. cash and connections influence everything you do, how far you succeed. they have plenty of money, but are practically poor in connections. heck, even haas is better established than them.

they won't be, not after they're done after their first season. they will show the world, what stark racing is truly made of. and y/n will prove, that a woman can win.

"-bought data packs from previous seasons, dating back a whole decade, from mercedes and aston martin. cost a pretty penny, but data is everything. not to mention, after the big leak that happend in the middle of the season, we managed to grab enough data on all teams to calculate 3523 outcomes to this season. points, standings, anything." kevin wheezes at the number, which is followed by several data sheets. he gapes at the calculations, which predict another world championship for max 2064 times. all from the data they managed to collect.

"insane, right?", y/n whispers to kevin, who turns his head to her. his wide eyes make her snicker.

"welcome to stark racing, mate. just you wait until JARVIS and FRIDAY start feeding in new numbers and information." a muttered 'holy shit' is the only answer she gets and y/n has to snicker again. toto wolff once said something about formula one being war planning... well, he should know that stark industries and it's most brilliant minds know everything about war. be it on the market, by income or an actual alien invasion.

"we want to achieve at least one win, be it in a proper race or sprint, three podiums per driver and at least two fastest laps. and it will be possible", her father continues, pointing at a hologram of their car. it spins lazily in a circle, showing off it's aeorodynamic curves.

"this car is faster than the rb19, goes on par with the rb20. we don't know the upgrades from red bull, but another year and we can pretty much predict their stats for 2026. newey is predictable, all his upgrades point towards the perfection of the car, he focuses on what to make better and not invent something completely new. and if he does, he takes ages to prove it's better than what they had before. newey is brilliant, but he's no stark." there it is again, the facts of their rivals, taken apart and put back together to summerize their data in a few simple words.

"so, our motto for this season is testing, collecting data and improving for the next season. we're sandbagging, we're restricting ourselves. so if we ever do bad... we all know we could do much better. the engineering team will send first comparisons between the SR-1 and SR-2 out next week, y/n has already tested both cars in the sim, so we will have some data to read off."

"so, with that, we're pretty much done. thank you everyone for listening, i know for some it's very early right now, so if you have to read over the spark notes- JARVIS has put a summary of the most important information together, you'll receive the mail right after this converence. thank you again and welcome to stark racing, everyone!" claps fill the room and y/n takes off her glasses. it's exhausting to play mindgames like this, to calculate the desired outcome, but it will all come together.

hopefully, with her as a world champion, with the bold stark name on her back.

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ARKHAM MAID 2024

[gasgasdaily]

Ferrari's special works for the Group B classification, the 288 GTO.

During the 80s Ferrari was experimenting with stuffing turbocharged technology that was from their race cars onto their street cars which resulted with the 208 Turbo which spawned from the Ferrari 308 itself albeit with a downsized V8 from a 2.9L NA to a 2L turbocharged V8. However, due to the limited knowledge of turbochargers still, Ferrari fumbled with the 208 Turbo that it came without an intercooler which severely restricted power output thus even with the turbo, the 2L V8 only made approx 215hp which was woefully painful in a Ferrari.

Regardless, Ferrari wanted to go racing and with the Group B ruling being passed down in 1982, Ferrari thought their time to shine was coming. They instantly prepped a few Ferrari 308 GTS into a rally spec setup and being that the 308 GTS was already made, it didn't need any special homologation units at all but just filing for homologation and change parts onto the car.

The car did well at several stages but by the end of 1982, the very same year it competed in the WRC, Ferrari knew that their car wasn't as competitive as they thought and quickly redesigned another machine for full homologation and to stay competitive in Group B and that became the 288 GTO.

To be quick in production, Ferrari took the basis of the 308 chassis, sculped it from there, modified body parts to be sleeker and lighter and also swapping a new engine into it with the 2.9L Twin-turbo F114B V8. In its homologated street form, the car made 400hp which, for a road car, was immense power during that time period. However, the car's entire concept wasn't done till 1984 but in 1983, a whole shocking event in rallying occured and changed the fate of the 288 GTO.

During the 1983 WRC season, Audi and Lancia was locking horns and the fight for the World Drivers and Constructors fight was hot. On one hand, you have Audi with their skwanky new Audi Quattro with their AWD system and on the other you have Lancia with their 037 in RWD form which was the racing homologation of the Monte Carlo. The fight did eventually gave Lancia the Constructors but the Audi had proven to be quicker everywhere on loose surface and can be competent on tarmac courses also thus by the end of 1983, everyone was scrambling to build turbocharged machines and most importantly, AWD as the writing was on the wall that even Lancia had switched to that formula by 1984. However, Ferrari had somehow not gotten the memo plus with the tight financial situation that Ferrari was in at that time, they couldn't scrap the project to build a new AWD machine thus they switched target and built the 288 GTO for another class of Group B racing which was circuit GT racing rather than rallying.

Yet again, fate threw the whole project into the can. In 1986, two tragic races occured with one in Portugal involving a Ford RS200 and another in San Remo involving a Lancia Delta S4 killed the whole Group B outright. Suddenly, Ferrari found nowhere to race the car with but with customers already placing orders down, they had no choice but to churn the car out and it became a masterpiece.

The whole car weighed just 1,150kg which was very light, even lighter than the 308 it was based on by at least 400kg and it was also the first Ferrari to be made out of carbon fiber and fibreglass materials for its road car. With the twin-turbo V8, it propelled the light car to a 0-60mph in just 5sec which was real impressive at that time and with a top speed of 190mph/306kmh, it was also the fastest street-legal machine in the world at that time.

Car would be overshadowed by the F40 that would come later on but still, it was a very impressive special vehicle that subconciously helped Ferrari test stuff also for the legendary F40 to come.

[metamorphesque]

On March 1, 1984, a short article titled "Imprisoned Armenian Dies" appeared in the New York Times: “Gourgen Migirdic Yanikian, an Armenian author and engineer who killed two Turkish consular officials in California in 1973, died Monday in prison of natural causes. He was 88 years old. He was sentenced to life in prison in July 1973 for first-degree murder."

But who was this man? And why did he commit this "crime"?

Gourgen Yanikyan was born on December 24, 1895, in the city of Karin, Western Armenia, into a traditional Armenian family. Gourgen was six months old when the hamidian massacres began, claiming the lives of approximately 300,000 Armenians. His father had good relations with the Persian consul in Karin, and with the consul's help, the Yanikyan family found refuge in the Persian consulate, escaping the massacres. After two weeks of safety, they were transferred by a mountain road to the village of Kyotah near Kars on the consul’s orders. Suddenly, it was discovered that Gourgen was missing. He had fallen on the road from his mother’s arms that were numbed from the cold. Despite the danger, his mother and brother Hakob went back and, after walking about six kilometers, found Gourgen nearly lifeless. They revived him with the warmth of their bodies.

Six years later, the mother returned to Erzurum with Gourgen and Hakob, intending to take back the money and documents hidden in their barn back. While digging, two turks arrived, captured Hakob, beheaded him, and took the iron chest. The mother and Gourgen witnessed everything from their hiding place. A terrified Gourgen tried to scream, but his mother held his mouth shut. Gourgen never forgot this tragedy throughout his life. For political reasons, he became a Persian citizen and later moved to Switzerland with his family, where he continued his education, which he later pursued in Tbilisi and Moscow.

Like many Armenians of his time, he experienced the devastating effects of the massacres committed by the turks against Armenians. He lost 26 family members to the Armenian Genocide of 1915, as well as his homeland—Western Armenia.

Although Gourgen was far from his homeland, the injustice of the genocide never left him. He had exhausted all peaceful means to inform the world about the genocide and hold turkey accountable for the atrocities they committed.

He chose cinema as the means to achieve his goal: “Our plan was very simple. With our personal funds, we secretly planned to make a film showing the world the sufferings of our people and the barbaric turkish massacres, not forgetting the Armenian genocide and the conspiracy of so-called civilized nations against our rights."

Yanikian's factual book "Paradise" (originally in English), which his wife Shushanik had titled, became the basis for a screenplay. Several foreigners joined the film project, and they shot 20 hours of material depicting turkish atrocities with striking authenticity.

"The film was to be shown simultaneously in the capitals of three different countries, free of charge. Flyers explaining the purpose and our demands were to be distributed with the tickets… The goal was to return the land stolen from the Armenian people to its rightful owners and provide compensation for our two million victims. Many individuals were to join the cause once the film was ready."

Despite the strong dedication to completing "Paradise," the endeavor was unsuccessful because U.S.-Turkey alliances and strategic interests were prioritized, and the US government hindered the production of the film.

Yanikyan, by then old but not despairing, had spent decades using every peaceful means to punish the perpetrators of the Armenian Genocide and avenge his compatriots, but he ultimately felt compelled to choose an alternative.

"In all my writings, I always defended the belief that violence should disappear from our lives. But when all of this happened and humanity and the world remained silent about the Armenian Question, I made the decision to take action in order to bring the Armenian cause to the attention of humanity and world governments."

On January 27, 1973, at the age of 78, Gourgen Yanikyan, without hesitation, fired 13 bullets at the turkish consul and vice-consul in Santa Barbara in his room at the "Baltimore" hotel. Following a highly publicized trial, Yanikyan was sentenced to life imprisonment, and in 1984, with a clear conscience, he passed away into eternity.

But his sacrifice was not in vain: the Armenian Question was finally brought back from the dusty archives of history. By sacrificing his freedom, Yanikyan ignited a movement. His act became the catalyst for a wave of Armenian activism, inspiring the creation of ASALA, who would go on to fight for the recognition of the genocide.

Everyone condemns violence but, alas, it is the only language the world understands.