#t h en stuff happened

[beartitled]

Can you do some more comics with Francis mosses

I can, but the problem is

That I’m pretty much out of ideas and I’m progressively getting tired of tnmn fandom

Ppl who look at my tags probably noticed that 😓

More of my thoughts under read more for curious ppl

(short answer maybe I will do more, but I desperately need a break from tnmn)

! Just a general warning: this came out kinda long + sort of venty

Originally I planned to do 1 comic drop and move on, but got stuck bc ppl liked tnmn comics and kept asking for more (and still do-)

Generally I don’t mind doing more if the ideas are there, but I want to address this: I’m tired

I know blowing up is usually a good thing and I appreciate people enjoying my stuff

But it’s exhausting to see that tnmn is the only type of content which is relevant, to the point that my own projects or stuff I enjoy are just kinda.. ignored

It’s fair – again my blog is heavily fandom based

(+Tsp were and still is kinda the focus)

But with tnmn fandom it’s a bit… different

Maybe I’m biased and it’s just my negative experience with tiktok comments

Remember this art?

cleaning up transphobic comments was.. um tough

Again, I get that you can’t be in that neat bubble completely sheltered from negativity

Humans are just assholes by nature really/j

So I was expecting the backlash, but not that much

I think maybe tsp fandom spoiled me a bit (in a good way), bc I got a feeling that everyone in tsp was positive of any lgbt+ headcanons and just generally more supportive

(don’t get me wrong, there ARE problems in tsp community too, taking narrators design controversy into account as one of the examples)

Obviously every fandom always has it’s own issues, show me at least one fandom that didn’t have some sort of meaningless controversy or some sort of problematic people in it

It happens

But it leaves a bad taste in your mouth sometimes

And for me personally it only added to not so pleasant experience

The thing I also noticed, when I interacted with other fandoms

Ppl wrote positive stuff first and foremost, not really asking for anything

Here it’s just “hey more. I want more. Do more. Do this character. Do this. Do more.”

The only reason I kept doing more, because likes, reblogs, views – these comics get a ton of attention

there is a audience to please alright

But this thing comes with a pressure tho

and it shows

so let me illustrate

This bookcase

Is my shame

Because I was so rushing, I just copied and colour corrected this bookcase from my diploma comic and pasted it here in hopes for the best

💥IT LOOKS HORRIBLE OKAY💥

Usually it’s normal to take materials used in other projects

the not so normal part is

to leave it like that because your stress reducing tea doesn’t work and you don’t really have time to redraw it

my m en ta l s t a t e i s f i n e ah ah h ah ah

Ok but jokes aside: it’s really tempting, to just abandon everything and produce content like some sort of content farm

But I don’t want to, I’m forcing myself and it makes my art worse

Yes it’s subtle, new people won’t even see this

But I’m not improving

And I don’t enjoy just anxiously popping out comics because everyone keeps asking

I can give it my all to something when I’m passionate, but just “hey I’m getting attention” is not the best motivator

Attention like that does get to my head, I know that I will probably give in again and do more, bc I will compare my posts engagement

But what’s the point of recognition, when you feel.. so numb about it…

Sorry for a mountain of text and thank you for ppl who actually took their time to read it

It’s been building up for a while and I feel like people need to know the reason why I’m not so enthusiastic about making “more”

I’m not necessarily completely abandoning this fandom

I still plan to do ask/suggestions event for STP (I’m just making sure I can dedicate my time to it, that’s why it’s taking so long) and I can add tnmn to the mix

Like STP+tnmn kind of deal

But for now – I need a break

At least for a little bit

[n-anon]

I posted 10,322 times in 2022

271 posts created (3%)

10,051 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@theoneandonlyyeti

@lirulua

@cosm-ixx

@oasisofgalaxies

@hyenaskill

I tagged 1,953 of my posts in 2022

#suspeesh - 290 posts

#n speaks - 233 posts

#important - 171 posts

#boost - 148 posts

#mood - 121 posts

#jacksepticeye - 116 posts

#antisepticeye - 95 posts

#bill cipher - 95 posts

#iswm spoilers - 71 posts

#anonymous - 68 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#please ignore my comments im so sorry right below you in the main tag on my phone someone posted sm*t and i was trying to comment on that-

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

A JSE Code Guide.

Due to recent events being @turquoisemagpie saying ‘watch out for symbols’ and look closely at next month in a recent reblog of their own post, I thought it imperative and important to give you a guide to which codes Jack has used in the past. (this is no guarantee to actually come back to these but at least I have them out there for you people.)

(I personally use https://www.dcode.fr/en for this, but other people use other decoding websites and that’s fine.)

First code I’m going to mention is ASCII85/Base85 (the one with symbols funnily enough) he’s used this twice, once in FNAF VR (H#Ih8@;^1'Df9E"G@>a) that translated to ‘Youcantlookaway’ 

See the full post

344 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

#4

Anti took over Cloak cuz he’s Extra™ like that. What a bastard (Affectionate and Derogatory)

375 notes - Posted October 10, 2022

#3

“I don’t know what happened. I was in the woods....” 

“and then I wasn’t.”

See the full post

417 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

#2

EYOOOO?

504 notes - Posted May 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Anomaly Found: Chase Brody Livestream Notes

-We were hacking into IRIS

-Inspired by Overnightwatch and the zoom commands

-was supposed to last 7 days, was lowered to 3 but then 2 hours went and passed so he sped it up.

-lots of technical difficulties with automod and stuff

-the crashes were unintentional but they were meant to look like they happened in universe

-THE LORRREEEEE

-Jack runs the IRIS twt account

-13 on trending on YouTube heck yeah!!!!!

-$120,000 on working on the game and hiring people for the live action and things

-IRIS is supposed to be a cold sterile environment and is supposed to feel uncomfortable

-Mark was Assistant Director

-Character playing Arin was supposed to be someone else but the person wasn't available so they got Arin

-Mark And Jack friendship wholesome times we love to see it

-HyperRPG did most of the legwork and ran the stream and made the game

-turtle easter egg was by Soph and is named Gerald :D

-This isn't the big huge one

-He has plans for a HUGE thing with lore, and at least 4 more are on the way and will trickle out as time goes on. He has plans for years of content

-Movie, TV show, Comics, everything. ANIMATION?

-No current plans for Choose your own adventure type content. Everythings on the table though.

-Jacks Chase impression is so impressive it's like he plays the character :)

-Takes place immediately after CHASE

-More and More make-up was added to make him look tired.

-Deja vu? No answers to how Chase knows this place. In this world there's a scientific explanation as to why Deja Vu happens but Jack won't tell us.

-ALTR is an acronym and stands for something.

-Arins character is supposed to be cold first to show how closed off IRIS is

-IRIS patch kept falling off

-IRIS can detect he's lying with the WTCHR

-'Very Big Brother is Watching' from Magpie

-the test is based on many actual psychological tests from various sources

See the full post

604 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[iamthescalesofjustice]

okay i know the shifters on t*ktok should just acknowledge its elaborate semilucid dreaming stuff

But Also i do sort of get it. 

bc like its one thing for me to say yeah despite being a lifelong lucid dreamer that still doesnt mean i have absolute control over my dreams and what happens in them and they sometimes are so complex and vivid that i have clear recall of them years later to the point that i frequently remember them better than actual events of my waking life that were going on at the time

and its another thing entirely for me to say that for a solid two and a half years j*ck sla*h semi-regularly personally showed up to my astral/psychic doorstep to torment me in a variety of ways and demonstrated what was at the very least an incredibly convincing facade of sapience, self-awareness, and free will the entire time 

and the first thing being true and explaining the second thing does not make the second thing not be true in the ways that matter (ie the events as i experienced them), unfortunately

but also its actually extremely hilarious that if asked about anything in the years bracketing [extremely traumatic event that was long foreshadowed] i have only scattershot snippets slipping through my fingers wrt anything that happened in the physical world. but if you asked me about stuff from back then that was not my tragic personal life i could tell you all about the nine dreams (and also eff en vee and also the incredible pit of sludge and vipers and paranoia that was the fandom for that at the time) 

anyway something something the events as they (the subjects of words 4 through 7 of this post) experience them are meaningful sorry if yall are annoyed that they dont bracket their recounting of those experiences with enough disclaimers to show that they understand the difference

[iateyourwaffles]

Hey, sorry for not being here again in like almost half a year or so. I just haven’t really been much like myself lately, and I think it’s my m/ental health. I’ve been kinda scared to do the things that make me happy lately, due to some stuff that kinda affected me in the past associated to them. Also, I’ve been staying up late due to lack of sleep, and sometimes I would feel so tired throughout the day. My physical health hasn’t been too good either. I mean, the joint issue will always be something I have to deal with, but it has calmed down a bit these last few months, still kinda h/urts though. There’s a certain area around my mouth, like the t/ooth part, that feels like a tight p/ain at times and it h/urts. I went to the d/entist back in early december and they said that they checked that part last time and they didn’t see anything. :/ I go back later on this month, so I think I will probably try and ask them about it then. I’m kinda hoping it’s just the joint issue I have, and it’s mostly affecting that part. I hope it goes away or at least calms down. It’s been like that for a while now, though ever since a bit after I went to get my cleaning back in october. I got my cleaning on hallowe/en.

I got my costume so I got to dress up as my favorite character for fall. I had some spice apple and pu/mpkin doughnuts and my brother and I helped put up decorations for the hallo/ween party we made at home for our younger si/blings. I also got to go shopping with my aunt, and we got to hang out for the day back in november. My aunt recommended me a pe/ppermint bark w/ white c/hocolate coffee,and it was really good. My aunt said that her and I share similar tastes. xD. I also showed her my Tsukasa plushies after she showed me her p/rep nd l/anding plushies. She said they were cute. I also thought her plushies were cute. We went to the store afterwards, and got to eat at the food court they had there, and she recommended me a fruit sundae and it was really good. I like hanging out with my aunt. I feel like she understands me a bit more, and she makes me feel calm and safe. Christmas was a bit better this year, I had a hard time around last year due to pe/rsonal stuff, so that day was a bit sad back then. I had fun this year. I couldn’t hang out with my aunt though on the day before christmas, due to the snow, so that made me a little sad, but my aunt helped cheer me up since she said we can see each other during the spring to go see a play.  : ) I got to see her for a bit after chrsitmas though, we had fun, and we got to go to a resturant, and ordered some chicken and biscuits. She also gave me and others some gifts. She got me a s/ailor moon t shirt and some jeans with some socks. I loved them. The pants are comfortable and the shirt is cute, and the socks are comfy. 

Happy new year, btw. New year is one of my favorite holidays, so I had fun. I had some pork w/ rice and this food with meat and cheese in them. It was like a dough wrapped w/ meat, my favorites are the ones are the ones with ham and cheese. I like them cause you can personalize them. One year, we put apricot in them and they were good. 

So that’s what’s been happening w/ me lately. However, lately these past few weeks, my mental h/ealth has been slowly af/fecting me. As well as some physical problems. (Like dealing with my joint issues and such.) And lately, again, I have been thinking about my gender. I haven’t given it much thought in a long while, but now, I have had it on my mind again since last week. I guess I’m still trying to figure myself out. (I have mentioned this in a much o/lder post before abt my gender.) Also, I might try and see what I can do abt s/chool this year. I’m trying to stay in a more positive l/ight this year, and try and go to s/chool to start working towards my dream. My aunt is usually the one to help me get into s/chool. I’m studying a language this year a bit more though, which is one of the big parts of my dream, so that’s good. 

Oh, and I recently have been on the leader b/oard on a daily p/oint ra/nkings in one of the games I play (s//if) for about almost half a month now, so that’s something that’s pretty cool I guess. I’m usually around the top 100 or top 500 or so. One time during the first half of the r/esult,I made it to top 10. I was kinda proud. x D I went down to top 40 during the second half though, but it’s okay. I haven’t been ti/eiring for a few days due to perso/nal problems and other rl stuff though. I jumped from top 11000 to top 2000, yesterday, so that was kinda cool. And I got to exchange for a card of one of my favorite characters, that I have been wanting since I started the game years ago. I had happy tears when I got her. I set her up as my m/ain l/eader. And I got my favorite limi/ted card in another game I play. It took a long time to get him, but eventually I got him. (He didn’t come h/ome in my 300 pulls, so I had to exc/hange s//park him. )  :’’)

I hope you enjoy your day. Sorry for r/ambling a bit. ^^; 

[transingthoseformers]

The fucking evil laugh I gave upon seeing this

So tfp au Pharma. Ratchet's ex turned not ex turned "did we seriously not only remarry, but marry Soundwave and Shockwave while we were hammered??" It's a long story

He's got crunchy history with Ratchet because of course!

Delphi still happened, Pharma's deal with Tarn regarding t-cogs for the continued safety of Delphi still happened. I think Red Rust still somewhat happened, because I think it would be interesting for Hazard to get ahold of it somehow and immediately learn the consequences of their actions. But. It didn't work. Unlike in mtmte, nobody came to investigate in time. Delphi was destroyed, and Pharma was the only survivor. Where Pharma went, Tarn went (and the unenthusiastic DJD, who grew less and less tolerant of TFP au Tarn's antics. After all they had a List of mecha they had to dispatch in highly unethical and brutal ways)

Y e a h Pharma absolutely goes through it before things get better but I like to think in the main timeline we've gotten to the comfort part of the hurt/comfort. Because there are sillygoofy shenanigans to be had

Like Pharma absolutely going back and forth with Ratchet about not being able to find That One tool (Bulkhead stepped on it)

Or Knockout and Pharma gossiping about some show they were keeping up with

Pharma being able to fly, just fly on earth for the first time.

The scientists and medics coming together to puzzle out the correct recipe for synthetic energon, not synth-en but actual synthetic energon. And it being a beautiful trash fire of a process, especially with me remembering the knowledge that the synth-en blend Shockwave was fucking with in s3 canon somehow created cyberformed matter, so that might be important for better repairs.

If you thought tfp Ratchet had bad bedside manner (on minor stuff), then wOOO ARE YOU IN FOR A TRIP

I just got the image of Pharma staring down Fowler as the latter stands on the little catwalk I know exists. I have no context for that.

I remember us talking about Ratchet, June, and Pharma watching medical dramas together and I still think that's hilarious as fuck

I am now thinking about the original ratchma divorce pre-war and it had to be so interesting because we can blame so many pressures for it

I'm also getting the image of Ratchet nearly going on another synth-en bender (whether it's from sheer temptation to go back to feeling good or because of the energon shortage getting more harsh) but Pharma watching out for him and stopping him somehow.

Also imagine the chainsaws being utilized in battles. Ik in mtmte there were plot significant reasons but in tfp everyone can transform their servos into weapons and/or tools. It would be so cool. And terrifying.

Also Ratchet second ~First Kiss~ with Pharma in private on the autobot base

Them finally acknowledging that they're still in love

It is top tier Riot humor for a flying character to have at least one moment where they Fail To Fly or run smack into something so I suggest that happens on one of the first times Pharma went flying on earth

Yes I've got the fics on speed dial sue me I'm so proud of this au and I love it and tfp au Pharma is a sillygoofy little guy who is taller than Ratchet and has went through the Horrors™️ but he has survived and by damn will he thrive

Thinking thoughts about tfp au Pharma💖💖💖

[random-rabid-creature]

i don't post fundraiser asks. i'm truly sorry but i have very little reach and i am a child so i can't donate.

-----------

Hello!

My name is Hperson tumblr but you can call me H for short, this is my main blog!! Welcome welcome :] i know english and spanish, i use it/they (o eso/elle en español) and i am a miner 💪💪 (minor)

Robux commissions: CLOSED❗❗❗❗❗❗

my commission post my commission post hehe

❗IMPORTANT❗

No maps, bigots, homophobes, terfs/transphobes/truscum, pro-shippers (aka diet pedos), lgbtqai+ exclusionists, radqueers or any entilted bigot, you are not welcomed in my blog, please get aoutta here

I am a minor, so don't be weird towards me. if you do get weird anyways i will just block you, i'm not an easy target

Banners i'd like to add...

This banner part will grow with time probably

Sideblogs i happen to have

Pizza tower brainrot blog (not active(for now...))

roblox brainrot blog

my awesome sauce askblog that you should DEFENETELY send an ask to like right now hehehaghsga.......

I'm gonna add more blogs in the future probably

Tags:

talking tag:

#H says stuff that nobody needs to know

Art tag:

#H does art

Ask tag:

#omg an ask for H

Animation tag:

#H does animations (not very good ones tho lmao)

idk what to call this:

#H's misc screenshots

free palestine 🍉

eyes on Venezuela 🇻🇪

[thorraborinn]

I am not the previous asker but i wonder did (any) runic alphabets have number letters? Or did they just transcribe the speech sounds of the number?

There's no evidence of runes being used as numbers the way that the Hebrew, Greek, and Gothic alphabet were, nor of a runic equivalent of Roman numerals. In normal runic texts, yeah, they spell it out. For example, from the Rök runestone:

þat sakum þritaunta huariʀ tuaiʀ tikiʀ kunukaʀ satin t siulunti fiakura uintur at fiakurum nabnum burn(i)ʀ fiakurum bruþrum

Þat sǫgum þrettánda, hverir tveir tigir konungar sæti at Sjólundi fjóra vetr at fjórum nǫfnum, bornir fjórum brœðrum.

'This I say as thirteenth, which twenty kings sat on Sjólund for four winters, of four names, born of four brothers.'

In some very late runestones, you can even find Arabic numerals for writing years. This one is from Iceland, a memorial for Margrét Ólafsdóttir (her name starts on the bottom left of the image, then top left), and the year she died, 1681, comes in a brief passage of Latin written in Latin letters (by that time, not terribly uncommon):

The one major exception is runic calendars, where they count 1 to 7, and 1 to 19 (with 17, 18, and 19 being designated with ᛮ árlaug, ᛯ tvímaðr, and ᛰ belgþór). This should actually not be underestimated. Gotland inscription 55 is precisely datable to the year 1459 because enough calendrical information is included:

ta en : iak : uar · (s)krivaþ : (t)a uar : (h)ahal · sunudah:r · untir-aþr : b-imstafr ++ i tolf:te : r(a)(d)(u) taflu

Þa en iak vaR skrivað, þa vaR hagal sunnudagR, undir[m]aðr p[r]imstafR i tolfti raðu taflu.

'When I was written, then Hail was the Sunday(-stave); Under-Man the Prime-stave in the twelfth row of the table.'

There as been some speculation about the Elder Futhark and number significance but it's kind of a dead end because it's unfalsifiable. If I remember correctly, the whole "Uthark theory" thing only happened because Sigurd Agrell had to rearrange all of the evidence to make his numerological speculations seem to work. In reality, the order of the Elder Futhark would need to be more stable than it seems to have been in order to work as a way to keep count of things (it's well known that the ᛞ d and ᛟ o runes switch depending on source, but for some reason few have realized that ᛇ ï and ᛈ p do as well). These types of speculation have to do with either the number of runes in an inscription or the sum of the values assigned to individual runes in the inscription, and as far as I know never touch on keeping track of numbers of things, and it seems counterintuitive to me that they could have such a complex system of numeral correspondence without ever actually using it to count stuff.

Of course, it's not impossible that if runes were used as numbers that we wouldn't know what we were looking at when we see it. But this is at least what we're able to draw from the evidence that we have.

[nikethestatue]

La Dolce Vita

Summary: Elain Archeron and Azriel - in love, in lust, in Italy

Modern AU *slight TOG crossover. If you read my stuff, you know it’s LONG

Warnings: bad language and THIS IS NSFW (not kidding, this is a story, not just sex, but there is a LOT of explicit material here. You can still read the story, but if you are sensitive or underage, skip the naughty bits)

Comments are always appreciated/wanted/needed. Anon or not, just do it! Obviously, reblogs are appreciated. 

Part I (Flowers)

 La Vie En Rose

De l'homme auquel j'appartiens (Of the man to whom I belong)  Quand il me prend dans ses bras Il me parle l'a tout bas (He speaks to me softly) Je vois la vie en rose (And I see life in pink) Il me dit des mots d'amour (He speaks words of love to me) Des mots de tous les jours (They are every day words) Et ça m' fait quelque chose (And they do something to me) Il est entré dans mon coeur (He has entered into my heart) Une part de bonheur (A bit of happiness) Dont je connais la cause (That I know the cause of) C'est lui pour moi (It's only him for me) Moi pour lui dans la vie (And me for him, for life)

Now

Riding in a Ferrari, being enveloped in its supple, buttery leather, gulping in the cypress and cedar-scented air of Tuscany was everything that Elain Archeron had ever wanted. She never knew that this is what she wanted, because riding in very fast, very expensive, sleek Italian cars wasn’t on her ‘fantasy radar’, but now that she was in one, she suddenly came to the realization that this was perhaps one of the best experiences of her life.

The whole thing, so far, has been the best experience of her life.

Well…maybe not the best-best.

Her happiness was deeply intertwined with and caused by the man in the driver seat of the said Ferrari—Azriel. Azriel Archeron, as he loved calling himself. Even if this wasn’t his last name, he preferred using it over his family name, for a variety of personal reasons. There was nothing better, more sublime, more beautiful and more loving than Azriel. The perfect male specimen, if she could say so herself. No one would argue with her assessment either.

Elain

 They were introduced by her sister’s then-boyfriend Cass, who was giving her a lift one afternoon, and then suggested that they stop by Azriel’s car atelier, because he needed to pick something up.

Elain’s heard of the mysterious Azriel from her sisters, both of whom had claimed that he was the most handsome man that either one of them had ever seen. Elain chuckled at the exuberant praise, doubting its truthfulness. There was no such thing as the ‘most handsome’ man. Beauty was in the eyes of the beholder.

She wasn’t sure what a car atelier was, and when Cassian pulled up to a modern-looking building, she said that she’d stay in the car and wait.

“Come on, petal, don’t be shy,” Cassian urged her, holding the car door open for her in a way that indicated that she’d have to get out and follow him.

They entered the foyer, a vast space with racing stripes painted on the polished cement floor, and a sea of model cars dropping from the ceiling. Behind a wall of glass, Elain spied a row of gorgeous cars, none of which were familiar to her. Some unique European models, fit for James Bond’s consumption. There were also neat antique cars, probably from the 50s. She immediately had visions of Grace Kelly and Cary Grant riding in one of these along the Riviera coast.

“What’s this place?” she inquired, looking around at the mid-century modern building that resembled a spaceship.

“This is Az’s baby,” Cass explained vaguely. “Conceived, conceptualized, restored, outfitted—all by the brilliant mind of one Azriel Bagarat.”

“Are you bragging?”

A deep, sensual voice, that could only be called ‘midnight’ sounded behind them, and Cassian’s handsome, tanned face broke in a mischievous smile. “Only about you, brother!”

When Elain turned around, her breath was knocked out from her lungs.

She didn’t know that it was possible, to be actually stunned by someone’s beauty, but there she stood, gaping, feeling the world slow and move in a different manner for a few moments.

Standing at a towering 6”4 or so, the man was at least as tall as Cassian, and Cassian was the tallest man Elain’d ever met. She was just as muscular, but not as bulky. Clad in all black, from expensive, well-tailored Diesel jeans, to a soft t-shirt that stretched over his sharply cut torso, emphasizing the thick muscles of his arms and shoulders, and the narrow waist, true to her sisters’ word, this Azriel was simply exquisite.

Cassian draped his heavy arm around her shoulders and nudged her forward, just a bit, and said,

“Petal, say hello! This is my brother, Azriel. Az, this is my soon-to-be-sister-in-law, the one and only Elain Archeron.”

At the words ‘sister-in-law’ Elain whipped her head to Cassian, who grinned maniacally at her, nodding and answering her silent question.

“When? What are you talking about?” she exclaimed, Azriel momentarily forgotten. “What do you mean? You’ve only been seeing each other for like three months?!?”

“Baby girl, I don’t need three years to decide…Nes is Nes and she is the one for me.”

He shrugged with his usual ease, acting like they were discussing the weather or a good burger that he just ate.

“If Nes hears even a whiff of this, I will know it’s you, petal, and well, I am not sure what I will do,” he decided upon reflection, but then pleaded, “please, don’t tell her. This one,” he nodded towards Azriel, who was standing still, green eyes peeled to Elain, “I can trust. He hardly ever talks,”

“That’s because you talk for all of us,” noted Azriel with a smirk.

Elain chuckled, and turned back to face him.

He extended his hand to her, with an odd, tentative movement, and when she looked down, she saw old, mottled scars that covered his palm and part of his wrist and forearm. A vintage Patek Phillipe on his wrist.

“Beautiful,” she murmured, and he gave her a surprised look, unsure of what she was referring to.

“It’s always a pleasure to meet another Archeron sister,” he said with a soft smile, which made Elain lose her ability to speak for a good few moments, because she was finally able to take in that face that defied description. The sharp cheekbones and the mesmerizing amber and emerald eyes, almond-shaped and slanted hinted at a varied heritage, and unfairly, the man also possessed a perfect nose, and a full, sensuous mouth. He was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with skin of burnished bronze, which was so in contrast to his bright eyes and raven-black hair, cut in a fashionable undercut. The physique, as she already noted, quickly skimming over the body, matched the face.

“Yes, me too,” she said stupidly.

Graceful, like a courtier, he offered her his arm and said,

“Would you like me to show you around?”

She didn’t want to be impolite, though she suddenly felt sweaty and nervous, and completely out of her league. But she threaded her hand through his arm and lightly squeezed the firm, alarmingly thick bicep.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

She wasn’t sure what she was thinking him for, so she added, “yes, I’d love to see it.”

“Why haven’t we met?” he inquired, those green eyes watching her with such intensity that she felt almost undressed, bared under the gaze. It wasn’t unpleasant, because it wasn’t lascivious, and he didn’t strike her as someone who’d be disrespectful to women.

“I’ve been busy for the past half a year,” she explained.

“Doing what?”

They walked down the wide passage, past all the cars, which Azriel pointed out with a wave of his scarred hand, and dropped names like Pagani, BMW I8, Bugatti Divo, Bugatti Centodieci, Lamborghini Veneto, Koenigsegg CCXR Trevita and so forth. Elain might not have known a ton about cars, but she was not so unaware not to know that a Bugatti and a Lambo were expensive cars.

Cassian fell behind, gawking at the display.

“I was opening my own business,” Elain said, her head thrown back, looking at an entire toy racetrack mounted to the ceiling, with cars zooming by, and somehow, not falling on patrons’ heads.

“What sort of business?”

“Flowers,” she said absently, once they reached another space—a two story-restaurant, bar, and a patio outside as well.

“Flowers?”

“Oh, a flower shop,” she explained at last. Then muttered, awed, “this is really incredible!”

“A car enthusiast?” he smirked.

She didn’t know how it happened, but somehow, her hand migrated from the crook of his arm to his hand, and now, they walked along the walls lined with Ferrari posters, memorabilia and expensive everything. Walking and holding hands.

“I wouldn’t call myself one,” she admitted, “but I find cars aesthetically pleasing…Never got to ride in anything fancier than a Mercedes or a Lexus,”

“Well, we should remedy that at once!” he decided easily and then said, “pick you up on Friday at seven?”

That sobered her up a bit and she turned to face him. They stopped at the long, chrome-lined bar, and he said, “An espresso?”

“Um,”

But before she could respond, he was behind the counter, playing with a very fancy coffee machine that required a PhD to operate with all the levers and hooks and buttons, and in a few minutes, he poured her a tiny cup of coffee, thick with natural foam, and heady with its enticing scent.

He chugged his own in one go and she followed him, gulping her espresso in two sips. It was better than anything she’d ever drunk in her life.

“Like a date?” she finally asked, truly confused by the offer.

“Would you like it to be a date?” he leaned on the bar, biceps flexing, his arms covered in tattoo sleeves that reached all the way to his fingers. They were quite beautiful, the tattoos, the placement and the design, and Elain recognized the style, since Cassian and Rhysand wore the same kinds of tattoos, if not so extensive.

“Did you draw these?” she asked bluntly, touching her finger to a thick snaking black line, which was shaded with cobalt.

He looked down, at her hand and his arm and nodded, following her finger with his eyes.

“I did. For the three of us. When we made Navy Seals,”

“You are a Seal, too?” she exclaimed.

He smiled and nodded, “Well, we all grew up in foster care—not all, Cass and I,”

“I heard,”

“Until Rhys’s parents adopted us. But we weren’t the…best of boys,” he chortled, “so to get our heads straight, we were sent to the Navy after school. We figured we’d only stay a bit, but we stayed for a while.”

“So, you are retired?”

“We are vets,”

“How old are you?” she blurted. Then blushed and said, “I am sorry. I am usually not so impolite,”

He laughed, “I figured. But that’s alright. I’ll tell you on Friday, though. If you don’t mind?”

“I mean, I don’t mind,” she murmured, her eyes dropping to her espresso cup, “but,”

“How about this—I take you on a drive in one of these fancy cars—and then you can brag to everyone that you’d driven in a,”

He paused and rubbed his chin,

“Any preference?”

“For what?”

“What car you’d like to go in?”

“I don’t know,”

“Throw something at me,” he urged, eyes glinting with feral delight.

Elain, blush deepening, finally said, “Do you have a Ferrari? I’ve always wanted to drive in a Ferrari.”

“Ahhh, a Ferrarista at heart!” he nodded with approval, folding his arms on his chest, “stick with the classic and the best. And yes, gorgeous, I do have a Ferrari or two.”

Gorgeous.

Azriel

The girl who’d arrived with Cassian, was not Nesta, but there was something vaguely familiar about her. The girl who’d arrived with Cassian was the most gorgeous creature that Azriel had ever seen. Gorgeous and completely unaware.

Women like her, if they were smart and cunning and ambitious, used their beauty for all things good and terrible. But this exquisite creature that Cassian was so blatantly hugging and teasing wasn’t one of those women. Azriel was all too familiar with the types—the maneaters, who hounded him like sharks. He was wealthy, and good-looking, and a decent person, if not exactly a saint. He hobnobbed with celebrities who came to order his cars, which he designed and outfitted based on their specifications and desires.

He was finnicky when it came to taste though. No matter how much rappers asked him to clad their Maybach in gold or some vapid Gucci print, no matter how many heiresses pouted and asked for a bubblegum or Barbie-pink Ferraris, he did not betray the essence and soul of the vehicle. Modify, define, sharpen, stylize—he did it all with precision and skill which was unparalleled. But Azriel Bagarat was known for rejecting even the juiciest of offers, if the request did not coincide with his aesthetic or the history of the car.

He was at his shop—that’s what he called it, though atelier sounded infinitely better and more expensive—that afternoon, knowing that Cassian was going to drop by and select a car for his grandiose proposal to Nesta. There was some concern that Cassian would not fit his 6”5 form into an Aston Martin or a Bentley, so they needed to make sure that the car was appropriate for the occasion and the occupant. Cass insisted on a British vehicle, feeling that Nesta would like something classic and timeless. So be it.

What Azriel did not expect to see that Tuesday afternoon was a girl--because he hesitated to call her a ‘woman’, since she looked so lovely and perfect and innocent--who took his breath away.

His breath had been taken away only once before, by Rhys’s cousin, who strolled like a ray of sunshine into their broken lives.

However, Morrigan chose Cassian. And then Cassian promptly impregnated her, causing a great discontent and strife between everyone. Morrigan, or rather Morgana d’Adda, though she anglicized her name, even if Morrigan d’Adda sounded funny, was just about disavowed by her family for tumbling, and being so stupid and blind as to get knocked up by a hulking nobody mulatto, as her father Keir called Cassian. Rather, sneered, at Cassian.

Even if Azriel didn’t impregnate anybody, he somehow got looped into the family bullshit and once he and Cassian turned 18, they were both shipped off to the navy. To the dismay of the entire Darling clan, Rhys followed them, tossing away his guaranteed admittance to Brown. An Ivy League school for rich stupid heirs. Only Rhys wasn’t stupid. Neither was Cassian a hulking nobody mulatto. And Azriel wasn’t just the ‘fucking weird kid, who might be a serial killer’. They served and they passed the insane Navy Seal training, and they proved themselves.

Nowadays, Cassian now ran security for the Darling conglomerate, while Rhys took over the reins when his father was killed in a car accident. Azriel found his own path, though the association with the Darling name certainly helped his exposure and in building relationships and meeting all the right people. And meeting all the women. The three brothers had gone through their share of wild times, but in the past 3 years, things began to calm down for them.

It began with Rhys meeting Feyre Archeron at an art gallery, where she was exhibiting some of her pieces. Azriel had tugged along with Rhys to see the exhibit, because Rhys was looking for some art for his new office, and he trusted Azriel’s taste and knowledge, and wanted a second pair of eyes.

Rhys followed Feyre like a dog throughout the evening—Azriel was there to witness the pathetic display—and then they ended up at a bar, doing shots and feeding Feyre virgin Cosmos, since she wasn’t even 21 yet. They went to some dance club, Azriel playing the third-wheel and ‘chaperone’, though by the end of the night, Rhys and Feyre disappeared together and weren’t heard from for the next three days.

… “What if he killed her?” proposed Cassian for 100th time, pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his long black hair. “Or what if she killed him?”

“I thought that I was the serial killer among the three of us,” drawled Azriel, sprawled on a sofa, watching a game. He wasn’t as concerned, having seen Rhys dripping with intense lust at the sight of the brown-haired teen. It was unusual, since at that time Rhys was almost 25, and Feyre only 19, and the three of them typically tried to avoid teenagers like the plague. But Rhysand Darling seemed genuinely enthralled.

“No, you are the guy with the sex dungeon,” corrected Cassian.

Azriel rolled his eyes, “serial killer with a sex dungeon, huh? Sounds like an interesting story. Alas, much as I’d like to, I don’t have a sex dungeon.”

“Aren’t you building one? In that new garage of yours?” Cassian shrugged.

“Only cars. No sex toys,” sighed Azriel, looking like that might have been an omission on his part.

“Gents, I think I am in love!” the door burst open and a wild-eyed Rhys appeared, his normally pristine hair in disarray, his cheeks flushed, wearing only a white t-shirt and jeans.

“Where the fuck were you for three days?” growled Cassian, showing considerable relief at the sight of his brother.

“Falling in love,” crooned Rhys, falling into a chair, a stupid, dazed look on his face.

“You look like Audrey Hepburn in ‘Sabrina’,” noted Azriel.

“I feel like Audrey Hepburn!” exclaimed Rhys. “She is perfect. Feyre is perfect.”

What the fuck? Mouthed Cassian in confusion.

“Feyre Darling,” whispered Rhys with delight, eyes closed, tasting the sound of the name on his tongue. “Feyre Archeron Darling. Or Feyre Darling Archeron?”

“You alright there, buddy?” Cassian frowned. “A little early to be talking last names?”

“She’ll be my wife,” announced Rhysand with his usually unwavering confidence.

And that was that.

Now, the ‘society wedding of the year’ was coming up in three months. Rhysand Darling and Feyre Archeron, the toast of the town, the power couple, the young and beautiful billionaires.

 Now, Azriel stood in front of the most stunning female he’d ever seen and for once, he felt like Rhys. His brain turned into a soupy mess, and he found himself tongue-tied and concentrating was suddenly difficult. He wanted to be a gracious host and a confident, formidable man, who had a reputation to uphold—though he wasn’t sure if Elain was aware of his reputation—but inside, he was a mess. All his insecurities, doubts and self-hate rose to the surface at once, and he hesitated to extend his hand in greeting to her. His mangled, horrible, revolting hand, which was sullied beyond its extensive scars. A hand that killed, and touched way too women, some of whom he probably shouldn’t have been touching at all.

“Beautiful,” she murmured softly, that gorgeous blush spreading over her rose-petal cheeks.

He was so taken aback by the comment, he was nearly flabbergasted when she didn’t pull away, didn’t frown or grimace in disgust, didn’t display any of the usual signs of revulsion that most women did when they saw his hands. Perhaps it was the Patek Phillipe, he tried to convince himself, but deep down he knew—she called his scars ‘beautiful’.

And then she took his arm, her hand strong, surprisingly calloused, if light, and small.

And from that moment on, Azriel became obsessed with that touch.

His body heated and as he led her to the bar, and showed her around his pride and joy, watching for the subtle reactions, for the gleam of wonder and appreciation in her eyes, he couldn’t release…wouldn’t release her hand from his. She asked questions, took in all the memorabilia and gawked at the cars, and then the guest area, and finally, when he sat her down at the bar and made her a coffee, he stepped closer. Trying not to scare her, or seem obnoxious, he couldn’t help invading her personal space, and stood next to her, pretending to take interest in his drink, while hoping that her arm would brush against his own. Skin to skin.

She didn’t pull away. Didn’t shy away.

He didn’t expect himself to ask her on what amounted to a date, because he wasn’t even sure how dates worked. His usual ammo consisted of a brief introduction, an even quicker seduction and then a hook up. That’s how he liked it. He preferred no-strings-attached approach to his involvement with women, and it’s been working rather well for him. He never had to sleep with anyone in the same bed, he never had to make anyone breakfast, there was no room for idle chitchat, and usually no second or third dates. It was so easy.

This fucking girl, with her caramel-brown eyes, her golden-amber curls, her soft lips and that damn blush on her cheeks—she was driving him veritably insane with her unique mix of immaculate beauty and a friendly, almost naïve, strangely innocent disposition. And he wanted to go on a date with her. Without an ulterior motive, because at it stood right now, he didn’t care to even get her in bed. That would come later. He was absolutely determined to have this happen later. But…later.

Cassian

“Alrighty, I think I am going with the Bentley,” Cassian sidled to the bar, and interrupted.

If Azriel was annoyed, he didn’t show it.

Cassian spied them at last, making his way through the cavernous entrails of the garage, with all its gleaming cars, the beautiful patrons who were discussing options with no-less beautiful sales people,  and even on-premises tattoo shop, which specialized in Azriel’s sketches and catered to those who didn’t have money to actually outfit their Bugatti to their heart’s desire, but could at least claim that they got a Bagarat tattoo inked on their skin.

Elain and Azriel were standing side by side, somehow melding together nicely, her pretty dress and high-heeled sandals and piles of loose hair in drastic contrast with Azriel’s all-black ensemble, his massive height and the span of his shoulders. But she did not balk from him. Cassian also noticed that she didn’t react to the scars, which Azriel was very self-conscious about, and seemed genuinely interested in the garage.

It was inevitable that the two would eventually meet, especially with the wedding coming up and all the wedding related brouhaha. However, Cassian wanted to have the dibs on gloating down the line, and reminding the two of them, forever, about how it was he who introduced them. Yes, Azriel fucked a lot of models and rich girls, for whom he, strangely, was a riff on a ‘bit of rough’, while being hardly ‘rough’ at all. Azriel was elegant and possessed excellent taste in everything, and he probably had the best manners out of the lot of them. But the tattoos, the cars, the aura of brooding mystery about him, and his generally quiet ways were like honey to the throngs of women who lusted after him.  

About Azriel, Cassian had no doubts.

Cassian knew Azriel probably better than anyone alive, and even that wasn’t saying much, but he was very aware of Azriel’s ‘secret type’ of woman. Basically, it was Elain. Everything about Elain Azriel would like—of that Cassian was certain. Elain was the elusive ‘ideal woman’ of whom Azriel dreamt, but never actually pursued. Slightly unconventional, soft, kind, generous—lovely, would be a good word—Elain was everything that Azriel never had with any other women.

Cassian could already see the hunger and flicker of completely besotted adoration in Azriel’s normally cold eyes.

He was less certain about Elain, having never seen her with a boyfriend. When he had asked Nesta about Elain’s situation, Nesta shrugged and said that Elain was beautiful, but naïve, dreamy and rarely dated.

“A Bentley it is then,” Azriel turned around, though his elbow still touched Elain’s arm. “You’ll fit, big boy?”

Elain giggled.

“I am not Rowan,” Cassian muttered. “I am human sized.”

“Only just.”

“You are the same height,” Cassian reminded him coolly.

“I am a little more human-shaped too.”

Cassian rolled his eyes and said, “Come on, petal. While I love to stand here and listen to his insults, we gotta go.”

Elain’s face dropped into a sad frown only for a second, but she recovered immediately. Cassian noticed it, nevertheless. His petal of a girl didn’t want to leave his brother’s side.

“Bye Azriel,” she said, taking his hand in hers again, of her own volition, and squeezing it lightly. “It was very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he said. His fingers wrapped over her palm, and he said, “I’ll walk you two out.”

So, his brooding brother didn’t want to release the newfound petal of a girl.

How interesting.

Once they were in Cassian’s Jeep, Elain looked out the window, a dreamy look on her face.

“Oh-oh,” Cassian chuckled, as he navigated the narrow NYC streets.

“What?”

“I know that look,” he winked.

“What look?” she frowned.

“The ‘oh gods, Azriel is so handsome!’ look. Oh, he is so gorgeous look. Oh, he is so sexy look.”

“He is handsome,” she agreed blandly, knowing that arguing would be silly.

“I hope that you gave him your number,” he said. “Because if you didn’t, I will.”

“It’s none of your business,” she crossed her arms on her chest, and Cass howled loudly.

“You are welcome, by the way,”

“You are ridiculous,” she muttered. “I don’t know how Nesta tolerates you!”

“Oh, Nes tolerates me and then some,” and winked again.

Now

“My love, slow down a bit,” Elain requested, as the road zigzagged among rows of cypresses.

“I thought that you wanted to make it to Florence before traffic hit?” Azriel squeezed her fingers and brought her hand to his lips.

“Seeing that we are already running late, we might as well enjoy the drive,” she shrugged.

A honey-coloured strand of her hair fell out from under the gauzy wrap that she wore around her head a-la Grace Kelley.

“Good.”

“Good what?” she turned her face to him and knocked him out all over again. By the Mother she was superb in every way, and she was his. He couldn’t believe his absurd luck. Things like these didn’t happen to him. Elain was not meant to be his. Yet, here she was, his lovely gentle girl, who loved him with incomprehensible passion and devotion. His.

The hefty, borderline outlandish ring on her finger was proof of that.

He’d worked hard on that ring, designing it himself, wanting to incorporate everything that he loved about her and about the two of them into the design. The result was this stunner that glittered madly in the Italian sun, sitting on her manicured finger, the skin of her arm kissed by a golden tan.

His beautiful girl loved flowers, and she loved him, so her ring, in its platinum setting was a remarkable rose, reflecting Elain’s green thumb and life’s work. He selected the diamond himself, and the amethysts that comprised the petals, even the tiny onyx inserts, to signify him and the black ink of his tattoos. The ring was both extravagant—especially in carats—but intimate as well, a flower that spoke of his eternal love for this woman.

“I am going to take you somewhere, which I think you’d like,” he teased.

“Where?”

“How does lots of flowers sound?”

She smiled. 

Azriel

For gods’ sake, he was nervous. Azriel was not prone to nervousness or panic or discomfort, but this date, or whatever it was, filled him with dread.

He shouldn’t have asked her.

He was stupid and blinded by her beauty, by her deliciously voluptuous body, by the long, slender legs, by her shy, sweet smile. Those blushes. For the love of everything, those fine, adorable, sexy blushes.

She was part of the family network—both of his brothers were now in love with her sisters. It was cliché and unrealistic and unbelievable that she and he would end up in the same boat. Besides, he wasn’t so lucky as to have someone like her accept him. So, he was making a huge fucking mistake. If this was all going to go sour—which inevitably it would, of that he had no doubt—he’d mess up the delicate balance that existed between the Darling, Bagarat and Cavalhe brothers and the Archeron sisters. She’d reject him and then it would be awkward. Awkward for the upcoming wedding, in which he and Elain were supposed to couple up and be together in the wedding party. Rhys said, ‘fuck it’ and asked both him and Cassian to be best men, while Feyre had both of her sisters as maids-on-honour. There was no escaping it. Therefore, it would be awkward for the wedding, and then for Christmas and all the summer BBQs and pool parties and…well, he might just have to find excuses to never attend anything, ever.

But here he was, standing in front of an old-fashioned, cute corner storefront in the Village. Flower displays spilled on the sidewalk, and the windows, along with the marble edifice reminded him of Paris. This was exactly how he’d picture Elain’ store—slightly whimsical, elegant, classic, but modern. Au Nom de la Rose – The Name of the Rose—perfectly appropriate for Elain’s store name.

She wasn’t waiting for him outside, and he circled the block three times before, by some miracle, finding a parking space and leaving the silver Ferrari, and then made his way back to the store, arriving 4 minutes late, which was completely unacceptable. The store was technically closed at this hour, but he knocked and heard Elain’s voice telling him to come in. Some internal pressure inside of him released at the sound of her voice.

He entered and whistled,

“That’s a lot of flowers!”

Yep, definitely a glamourized 50’s Paris vibe.

“Azriel, I am so sorry, I am not ready,” Elain came from behind the counter, looking a bit frazzled.

“It’s alright I will wait,” he assured her, but she shook her head and said,

“No…I just received a huge order. An emergency order for an anniversary party. Azriel, it’s my biggest order ever!”

“That’s excellent!” he found himself feeling genuinely happy for her, if not for her concerned expression. “What’s up?”

“I…I,” she stumbled. “Feyre or Nesta would usually come and help out if I need them, but Feyre is in LA, and Nesta…” she swallowed, “Nesta is indisposed.”

Nes is on her period and is feeling like crap, read Cassian’s text from earlier today. I am going fishing. Care to join? Or are you busy romancing a certain Archeron sister?

Nesta was indisposed indeed, though Azriel didn’t feel like he needed to know the details.

“It’s a 25th Anniversary, and I have to make 25 bouquets and 15 centerpieces. The couple’s original florist fell through and they contacted me, in a panic, and I agreed,” she babbled, tugging on her long braid nervously. “And it’s for tomorrow,”

“Alright then,” he shrugged, “what’s the problem then? I am here.”

She looked up at him, her gaze both hopeful and confused.

“You? What are you going to do? I am sorry, Azriel, I am so sorry, we’d have to postpone,”

“We’d have to postpone our drive, but I am here. Use me.”

“Use you?”

“Use my body,” he chuckled, and she giggled an amused laugh.

“I appreciate the offer,” and when he thought that she’d continue rejecting his offer of help, she did the right thing and was a smart girl, nodding at last, and said, “will you truly help?”

“I am not a flower expert,”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” she grinned.

He removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and said, “Teach me, Archeron. I am an apt pupil.”

He was. Elain showed him model bouquets and thankfully, he wasn’t dumb or clumsy enough to screw them up, once he began copying the originals.

Night fell, and they ordered pizza and he went to get a bottle of wine from the store across the street.

Sitting on the floor of the store, surrounded by piles of flowers, vases, ribbons and twine, they ate pizza, laughing throughout the evening. She stretched her long, bare legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankles, and he couldn’t get enough—the pretty toes, the pale golden skin and the sexy pink nail polish. He didn’t want to seem like a creep, but he snuck more than a few glances at her feet when she wasn’t looking.

It was well past midnight when they were finally done.

He stretched on the floor and tucked his arm behind his head.

She kneeled above him, at his side, and said, “Azriel, thank you. I can’t, honestly, thank you enough. You saved me. Maybe my business too!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he retorted gently, “but this was fun…and educational.”

“How can I repay you?” she asked.

“Well, well,” he drummed his fingers on the floor, pretending to think. “So many possibilities,”

At that, she flushed, and he licked his lips, loving the sight of that pink on her cheeks.

“Let’s make a bargain,” he proposed at last.

“A bargain?” her brow furrowed.

He nodded.

“For my exceptional assistance during your time of trouble and despair, you will agree to an outing with me, of my choosing. To do whatever I want.”

Elain stared at him, biting her plump lower lip.

“Are we going to do something bad?” she finally asked uncertainly.

He grinned and without thinking, cupped her cheek.

She didn’t recoil.

He drew his thumb over her soft skin and she leaned into his palm just a little bit. Gods it felt good. So good. So good to have her so near, so receptive, so unafraid. But he dropped his hand.

“You think I will take you to knock off a couple of 7-11s?”

“Well, if I am entering this death bargain with you, then who the hell knows?” she shrugged.

He laughed, “Death bargain? A little dramatic, are we?”

She was still sitting there, biting her lip, and all he wanted to do was drag his tongue over it. Kiss her large, brown eyes. Fist his hand around the thick mass of her hair, tilt her head and kiss her until she was breathless.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He never acted like this!

He never thought like this.

He was a rational, controlled, some said, cold man.

Not to say that he wasn’t able to find a woman immediately attractive, or want to fuck her, but this was different. This was unknown.

“Fine,” she shrugged.

“Fine?” he repeated, smiling.

“Don’t make me do anything bad,” she warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” he promised. “I wouldn’t lead you astray. But,” he sat up, draping his forearms over his knees, “where do you live? Let me take you home,”

“I can take an Uber,”

He gave her an incredulous look and she nodded without further arguments.

“Where do you live?” he asked, once they were outside, somehow internally thrilled that perhaps, she’d invite him inside. He wouldn’t expect anything, obviously, but it would be nice see where she lived, what her private space looked like. So far, he couldn’t pinpoint her style with any accuracy, an interesting mixture of vintage and modern, of flowers and thorns.

“Just two blocks down,” she said, as she locked up the shop.

He gave her his arm, and it seemed like she almost expected it, because she immediately thrust her hand into the loop and he smiled softly.

The little white shorts and the flowery top did things to him, and he was glad to walk side by side, so to prevent himself from staring at her long legs and her neat, lush ass. He was already a mess over her legs, over her bending and squatting in front of him for the past four-five hours.

It was dark and quiet on the street, and they walked in a comfortable silence, each thinking of something of their own.

And then,

Elain sprawled face down on the pavement.

She cried out, landing on her knees on the asphalt, just barely having the time to brace herself on her hand, and ripping the skin of her palm.

Azriel was instantly on his knees in front of her.

Tears glistened in her eyes. Possibly from pain, because as she flipped on her butt, they saw that her knees were torn and bleeding, as was her palm, or maybe from shock, as well as embarrassment.

“Shhh,” he cooed gently to her, “are you okay?”

She shook her head. A lonely tear spilled from her eyes.

“Tissues?” he asked quickly, surveying the damage. Bruises were already blossoming on her scuffed kneecaps, all around the wounds.

She wordlessly handed him her bag, allowing him to rummage through it and he found a packet of old tissues, which he gingerly pressed to her bleeding knees.

“My ankle hurts,” she muttered, reaching down to inspect it.

“Let me,” he took her legs and looked over her ankle. She glared questioningly at him, still in some sort of stupor, not understanding what had occurred, and why she was now sitting on the ground, bleeding.

“You broke your heel,” he nodded to her foot and she glanced down, finally realizing that her heel caught in a crack in the pavement. The impact was so strong, it actually fully detached from the sole of the shoe.

“I am sorry,” she mumbled.

“You should be,” he chuckled, “you gave me quite a scare. I thought you were shot; you went down so quickly!”

She pushed at his arm, half laughing, and have crying.

“Stop making me laugh!” she ordered, sniffling and giggling. “Auuu, it hurts...”

He was lightly pressing on her ankle, and then said, “it’s just twisted. You’ll need ice, but it should be okay…”

“Ok, Doctor Azriel,” she even rolled her eyes slightly and he laughed, flicking her nose.

“I am trained on how to treat combat wounds and catastrophic field injuries, I’ll have you know,” he said and then gave her his hand. “On your feet, soldier! Let me see if you can stand.”

Moaning and groaning, she managed to stand up, but putting any weight on her foot caused a yelp to escape her lips.

“Alright, come on now,” he stepped and opened his arms, “jump in.”

“Jump in where?”

“Jump into my arms, of course.”

“What are you planning to do? Swing me around?”

“I could swing you around, but I was planning on carrying you home, and then making you an ice pack and disinfecting all your cuts.”

Without waiting for her to decide, he scooped her off the ground and she gasped, and he wasn’t sure what the little huff meant.

“But it’s like two blocks!” she protested feebly, and unconvincingly, “I am heavy.”

“Ooohhh,” he groaned dramatically, hefting her to his chest, as they started off. “Sooo, so heavy!”

“I am the fattest of my sisters,” she argued, and even in the darkness he saw that she was blushing realizing how silly her comment was.

“Well, considering that Nesta is like 90 lbs. and Feyre 110 lbs., that’s not saying much,” he assured her.

She was soft and warm in his arms, and when, without prompting, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, he felt utterly at peace. Because the pieces of them fit. She fit him.

Blood still dripping, and her arms thrown over his neck, Azriel walked steadily, cradling her to his chest, until they finally reached a pre-War building, and she said, “There is no elevator.”

“Don’t tell me you are on the 6th floor!” he laughed, looking up.

“The third.”

“Guess I will have to haul the fattest of the Archeron sisters to the 3rd floor!” he sighed, and she smacked his arm, protesting,

“You can’t say that!”

He was laughing and she began to laugh as well.

“You said it first,” he reminded her.

 Her apartment was small, but she’d arranged the furniture in such a way that everything seemed more spacious, and orderly, without unnecessary frills. Mostly grays, turquoise, cobalt and creamy-white. For some reason, he thought that there would be much more pink and general fluff. This though, this he liked.

He sat her down on the sofa and went to the bathroom to find bandages and plasters and other items. She called out from her spot, telling him where to find things and he finally emerged and began working on all her wounds.

“Haven’t lost a soldier yet,” he told her with a chuckle. He kneeled in front of her, and his touch was firm, but surprisingly gentle, as he thoroughly washed every scuff and tear, and then disinfected and decided what needed bandages and what didn’t.

Elain remained mostly silent throughout the procedure, watching him from under her lashes.

“You are nice,” she said suddenly.

He looked at her and smirked.

“Not with anyone.”

“Everyone just says how handsome you are,” she lay her head on the back cushion, watching him. He gave her a painkiller, and it was making her drowsy. It was also late. She rarely stayed up this late. “But you are also very nice,” she added.

Elain

She woke up that morning, and was struck by the unfamiliar environment. And pain.

Her knees ached and screamed and hurt, as did her palm.

Light poured through the windows; the curtains still open.

She found herself on her sofa, haphazardly covered by a throw, and with her legs resting on Azriel’s lap.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He was here. With her.

He never left after last night’s debacle.

She was a clumsy cow, as always, but the incident was unusually embarrassing, even for her. She always spilled or dropped stuff on herself, tripped, stumbled, and fell on her ass at inopportune times, but last night…By the Mother!

The man was gosh darn saint. Not only did she screw up their evening plans, made him work and make bouquets with her, which, probably wasn’t the most exciting thing for him to spend the evening on, but she also almost ate the pavement, and then he carried her for half a mile! And cared for her when they came here. And spent, what must have been a horribly uncomfortable night in a half-seated position, with her, no doubt, pushing at him with her feet.

Yep, she was never going to see him again.

Good going, Elain. Fine job you did of this ‘relationship’. Now, for the rest of her life, she’d be forced to see him at family gatherings, probably with some stunning model of a wife, and he’d always remember her as the girl who tore her heel on the pavement.

She wanted to cry.

Not that she ever, even for a second, believed that this would go anywhere. Her and Azriel. That wasn’t possible. Things like these didn’t happen to her. She was strange and solitary and even if others claimed that she was pretty, going so far as to call her ‘beautiful’, she never felt like that. When Nesta got mad at her, she’d call her a ‘petty idiot’ and Elain felt like that more frequently than she cared to admit. And Azriel…he was cut from a different cloth. He was…

She looked at his face, still perfect, but ever so slightly relaxed and softened in sleep, his eyelids heavy and enviably long, thick lashes fanned over his golden-brown cheeks. He was funny, with a quick, dry sense of humour, intelligent and interesting, and when they talked last night, she couldn’t get enough! He told her fascinating stories from his time in the Navy, about his dream, which resulted in the creation of his beloved garage. It took him three years to open the place—conceptualize what he wanted, how to deliver it, the items to showcase. The result was not just the ‘garage’, but also the popular bar, and recently, a restaurant as well.

Scarred fingers touched her hand and he opened his eyes.

“Good morning,” he whispered, squinting at her. “How are you? How’s the pain?”

“Azriel,” she murmured, not even knowing how to thank him, but she attempted, “I want to,”

“Pancakes?” he asked eagerly.

She glanced at him with incomprehension.

“May I make you, or us, pancakes?” he proposed. “I’ve been sort of thinking about this all night. How I’d like to make you pancakes,”

“I want to thank,”

He lifted his finger and shook his head,

“No, no. My Italian mother would tell you that you should never thank anyone for providing medical help,”

“Why?”

“According to my psychotically superstitious Italian side of the family, the remedy or healing won’t take, if you offer thanks. Imagine, I was forbidden from ever saying ‘thank you’ to a doctor,”

She chuckled.

“So, you are Italian?”

“Mom’s side is half Neapolitan and half from Lazio—near Rome.”

He sat up and rolled his neck.

“Can I at least say that I am sorry that you had to be so uncomfortable and sleep on the couch?” she asked.

“It’s alright. Not the best night I’ve ever had, but not the worst one either. The company was nice too,” and he patted her legs.

A tiny flare of hope lit in her belly.

But she didn’t allow herself to have it take root.

Maybe not until he gathered her legs together on his lap and drew his fingers up and down her calf.

“But really, how is the pain?” he asked at last, watching her with his intense, warm eyes. The eyes didn’t warm frequently, it seemed, but when they looked at her—

He was different somehow.

Kind. Approachable.

“It’s fine,” she waved her hand, not wanting to burden him any longer with her dumb injuries.

Those long, scarred fingers glided over her skin, and a small smirk touched his lips, “May I kiss it better?”

She blinked at him.

“I hear that I am very good at making pain go away,” he added proudly, and then, his lips descended on her scuffed and bruised knees. She kissed each one, tenderly, and then took her hand and brought it to his lips, and pressed his mouth to the inside of her palm. Her breath hitched and she stared at him, wide-eyed, as he watched her, unblinking, gaging every minute reaction. He kissed her hand, inside and then out, and then kissed the other, even though it wasn’t injured, and then returned to her knees and kissed them again.

At last, “Better?” he asked.

She only mooed incoherently.

…Azriel, by the stove, flipping pancakes was the sexiest thing Elain had ever seen in her life.

Clad in dark slacks, in his white shirt from last night, with sleeves rolled up and the tattoo sleeves on full display, he stood in her kitchen, barefoot and flipped pancakes like a pro.

“You cook too?” she asked incredulously.

He laughed.

“Too? In addition to what?”

“I don’t know,” she was still perched on the sofa, like an invalid, but after she washed her face and brushed her hair, he ordered her to sit and not make unnecessary moves. “Everything?”

“My repertoire is limited, when it comes to the kitchen, but what I know how to make, I make well. Cassian is a better cook.”

“Cass?” she smiled.

“Nesta is lucky to have him,” Azriel added, somewhat wistfully.

Elain looked at him and nodded. “I think so too.”

“He is a good man. Maybe the best man I’ve ever known. Where my own family failed, he stepped in, though he is a year younger than me. But he taught me…how to be. Accepted me. Unconditionally. Taught me how to swim, how to ride a bike, how to fight.”

“And you?”

“I? I helped him with his reading,” Azriel rubbed his chin, his stance a little tense.

She didn’t say anything, waiting to see if he felt like sharing more.

“It was neglected,” he said at last. “His reading and writing. So, we sat together, late at night, at our foster parents’ house and read.”

He then asked, “coffee?”

The moment of reminiscing was over, and Elain did not press.

She nodded to one of the cupboards and he pulled out a tub of coffee and grimaced.

“This is what you drink?”

“Hey, it’s good coffee! I buy it at Trader Joe’s!” she laughed defensively.

“Baby, we are drinking Italian coffee in this house,” he decided, and there was no arguing with that logic.

 That’s how Elain became Azriel’s ‘baby’.

In their house, they always drank Italian coffee.

 Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

“Thanks Nu,” Azriel greeted a lanky, very thin, very tall girl, who handed him two packages and then winked at him and disappeared wordlessly.

“My assistant, Nuala,” he explained, showing Elain two packages of Lavazza coffee. “This will do for now.”

Elain hobbled to the small butcher block island that she’d restored from a console that she found at a flea market. “You text someone and they just appear?”

He grinned and shrugged innocently.

“I know a guy.”

“Of course you do. Are you in the mafia?”

“First of all, rude,” he placed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of her and then poured her coffee, “second of all, I just know a guy.”

“Who knows where to buy Lavazza on a Saturday morning?” she wondered, tucking into the pancakes.

“I have a network of spies,” he winked at her.

She sipped on the coffee, perhaps not as good a cup as he’d made her at his garage, but glorious nevertheless. “Are you in the CIA?”

“Not in the mafia or the CIA. Just a lowly car guy.”

“Uh-uh.”

They toasted with their coffee cups and Azriel said, “not bad for a first date. Blood and flowers. Very romantic.”

It was that morning, that sunny Saturday morning, over a plate of pancakes and some Italian coffee that Elain Archeron fell in love.

She fell in love completely.

Utterly.

Irreversibly.

And forever.

Now

Azriel turned off to some side road and how he knew where to go, Elain had no idea, but she just enjoyed the scents and warmth of the day.

“You know,” she laughed. “We are literally under the Tuscan sun right now!”

“All your dreams are coming true,” he ran a loving hand over her bare arm and she tore her gaze from the scenery around her.

“My dreams came true when I met you,” she confessed. “That was the day.”

“So easily impressed!” he teased, but she saw that her words touched something in him. His face softened with happiness.

“Az, slow down,” she whispered, an almost painful pull to kiss him spreading over her. “I want to kiss you.”

He looked at her, eyes hidden behind his Aviator shades, but slowed down and she leaned towards him and planted her mouth on his cheek.

“Lips,” she murmured with audible desperation.

“Baby, I don’t want to bust up this nice Ferrari,” he laughed. “And you, who is riding in it.”

Pouting, she ordered, “Then pull over so I can kiss you!”

He laughed louder, throwing his head back, his gorgeous tanned neck annoyingly desirable.

She wanted to bite his vein, lick the salty skin of his neck, and then sink her teeth into his shoulder. Elain was a biter. And a scratcher. Good thing that Azriel was a benevolent lover, who didn’t care if she left his body marked with her love, and didn’t mind the pain. In fact, he encouraged it.

His heavy brown hand lay on her knee, under the hem of her summer dress and he said,

“Why don’t I do something nice for you… then you can kiss me…”

“But I want to kiss you now,” she frowned playfully.

His hand slid a little higher, up her bare thigh, and he pressed his scarred palm into her thin, tender skin, rubbing slowly, indulgently. This was just as much for her as it was for him.

She threw her head into the back of the seat, eyes closed.

Until she yelped softly, when his wicked hand slipped higher and higher, pushing her dress up as well.

“Azriel Bagarat,” she murmured, “what am I going to do with you? And your love for public nudity and lovemaking…”

He shrugged oh so innocently and said, “firstly, it’s Archeron to you, and,”

“Not just yet,” she wiggled her ring-clad hand in front of him, “not until we got the paper and all, to make us official,”

They rolled their eyes at the same time and then laughed.

“And secondly, who can blame me?” he leaned and kissed her shoulder. “You are very hot. And I sort of want to fuck you all the time.”

His long, very experienced fingers made their way even higher, until he drew them along the cotton of her underwear, lightly pressing into the cleft, teasing ever so lightly. She shifted against the fingertips, her thighs falling apart in silent encouragement.

Elain was a giving and a receptive lover, innately knowing what he wanted and accommodating both of their needs thoughtfully, and easily.

“What do you want, baby?” he murmured.

“To kiss you,” she insisted stubbornly.

He huffed his amusement, and then pushed his finger deeper, firmer against the cotton, whispering,

“How about this?”

“This is nice, I suppose,”

“Only nice?” he withdrew his finger in warning and she grabbed his wrist, and thrust it back in place.

“Maybe a little better than ‘nice’, huh?” he teased.

“A little,” she agreed, gasping when he cupped her fully, swiping his heel of his palm against the length of her folds, feeling the dampness against his skin. Bold, as he always was, he moved the strip of cotton to the side, and hiked up her dress ever higher, exposing her to his exploration.

He snuck a glance at her perfectly peachy, pink pussy, bare and succulent, like a ripe fruit dripping with its sweet juices.

He groaned and then hissed, “I am stopping, right now. I want you coming on my tongue in the next four minutes,”

“So confident, ombre?”

She took to calling him ombre or ‘shadow’, when, early in their relationship, he kept materializing in front of her out of nowhere, stepping out of the shadows. He laughed, but didn’t mind the endearment. What’s more, it became a private thing between the two of them—he’d call her ‘rose’ and she’d call him ‘ombre’. It wasn’t nauseatingly sugary sweet and could be used in public without making people gag. Unlike, for example, the Darlings, who, for whatever reason called each other ‘my darkness’. Or Cassian, who sometimes went with ‘schmoopie’, braving Nesta’s wrath.

Azriel laughed, while incessantly dragging his finger back and forth over the wet slit, without doing much else, and making her gasp and squirm.

“That I can make you come on my tongue in 4 minutes? Fuck yeah! Want me to prove it?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” she shook her head, “you don’t get to just do whatever the hell you want, when you want it. If I don’t get my kiss, you don’t get to,”

“What? Lick your pussy? I feel like the punishment is unreasonable,” he protested.

She gave him a sultry look, a look that only he was privy to, and then murmured, spreading her legs a little wider for him,

“Maybe I want to lick something of yours?” she proposed, her voice husky, pouring like honey over his ear.

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” he choked out, finally parting the soft cushions of her folds and dragging his knuckles over the wet spread of her. The intoxicating scent of her arousal, mixed with the Italian sunshine and the smell of grass, flowers and cypresses was so heady, he almost swerved, stopping only quick enough to grip the steering wheel tightly in his left hand.

Gods, if he was going to make it to their next destination, he would be impressed with himself. But it was close.

Azriel

Elain loved getting fingered. That was the first thing he learned about her sexually—kissing and fingering.

In the privacy of their world, he fingered her constantly.

It was almost an obligation on his part by now, to have her wake up, tucked into his side, while gently, but thoroughly pumping her soft, indescribably tight center. No matter how many times he’d been inside of her, she remained tight, as tight as the first time. That was a blessing, but a curse as well, for all he could typically think about throughout the day, was sinking into that glorious tightness.

When she was finally semi-awake, she rolled on her back and spread her legs in front of him, so he could finger her in earnest. Two fingers first, nice and deep inside of her, as he knelt in front of her and watched her come undone before him. And then, there was always a moment when her eyes flew open, and her back arched, and he slipped the third one in. The plush, warm walls of her sex stretched and pulled to accommodate him, but he went slow and deep, only grazing the sensitive spot in her, making her moan low and begging, the pressure of his hand steady and firm.

She cried and cried into the pillow, head thrown back in utter extasy, her hair a tangled halo about her. She wasn’t permitted to move her hips, his only order in that early-morning game of theirs, therefore she was wholly dependent on him for her pleasure. If she ever did begin a sensual undulation of her hips around his hand, he’d allow her to continue for a few moments, aware that she was lost in her own pleasure, before cruelly yanking his hand out of her.

“Was my girl allowed to do that?” he’d ask simply, and amidst her disappointed panting, her pleading for more, her sweet, innocent “sorry. I am sorry,” she’d beg him to fill her again.

Then she’d lay still, eyes wide and pleading, her little opening vibrating at the loss, before he placed her feet on his shoulders and thrust in her anew. This time, his scarred, rough, brown, inked fingers disappeared in her completely. She buckled and let out a wild moan that reverberated from the very depth of her, because all four fingers were inside, and his thumb finally, finally began a gorgeously slow torment around her clit. She just lay there, tense and unmoving, watching him, the slurping, obscene sounds of his hand inside of her filling the sleepy morning air around them.

Elain came quietly. She moaned and twisted and gasped as he rubbed her clit, but when the waves finally descended upon her, when he felt the tight, silky flesh grip and pump all four of his fingers, which were now pressing up into her perfect spot, the exhale was soft and intimate. Only for him.

Now

“Don’t wreck the car,” Elain muttered, eyes barely open.

“Will this be the second one?” Azriel asked, while Elain wrapped her hand around his wrist and forcefully jammed his hand inside of her.

Four.

Four orgasms daily. That was his promise.

He’d provide her with at least four daily orgasms. So far, he typically exceeded expectations. It wasn’t particularly difficult, because he often played with her at odd times—when they were watching TV, he’d slip a finger onto her clitty and rub her slowly and leisurely, until she melted from the stimulation. She enjoyed it when he bent her over counters or sinks, and sunk his fingers deep and hard into her perpetually ready hole.

Elain, to his complete delight and fascination, was always just a bit aroused. Always, always just a bit wet, just a little damp for him. He’d make an unscheduled stop at her shop and if it was empty, he’d step behind the counter with her, and soon, she’d be splayed over the counter, his hand between her legs. Yes, they’ve been almost caught plenty of times, but Azriel had the ability to disappear into shadows as soon as he sensed someone coming. Sometimes, when someone would walk in the store, Azriel even pretended that he was a customer, buying flowers, watching her patiently, while she got his bouquet ready for him. Never mind that his hand might have been soaked with her slick, or that he smirked, watching her press her thighs together, while she wrapped the flowers, as she avoided eye contact with him, and handed him the bouquet which he’d inevitably bring home for her.

When he was around her, she jokingly complained that she was of constant need for him, and it was his very enviable and pleasant task to soothe the ache inside of her.

 Azriel

Their friends, family, found their relationship perplexing. But Elain kept her sisters firmly at an arm’s length when it came to the discussion of their sex life. No matter how they tried to pry, she gently, but firmly rebuffed them. Nesta complained and said that they were too obsessed with each other. That Elain was too in love and that Azriel was too dependent on Elain’s love for this to be normal. Elain only shrugged and didn’t argue.

 “It’s not normal!” seethed Nesta, watching Elain and Azriel wrapped around each other on the dance floor, Elain’s body shimmying and swaying around her, arms raised in the air, her hips swooshing to the beat, bumping into his pelvis.

“You think they are gonna do it right on the dancefloor?” Cassian contemplated quietly, not sure if this was outside the realm of possibilities.

“He would!” she spat and gulped down her Aperol spritz aggressively. “I am surprised he is not bending her over…more surprised she isn’t agreeing!”

“They never argue,” Cassian nodded.

“They never—never—argue. It’s not normal!”

The way Cassian saw it, as long as the two were happy, he had no right to judge.

Nesta was a hot pepper. Feyre, an apple—solid, tasty, dependable. Elain—whipped cream—a delicious topping over anything, but especially Azriel.

 Nevertheless, the word got around.

One day, Azriel, Rowan and Cassian were sitting in Elain’s flower shop, toiling diligently over a huge order of flowers.

They wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not to each other, or their women, but they quite enjoyed hiding in that flower shop and arranging flowers. They claimed that they were doing it for Elain’s sake, to help her out, so she didn’t have to hire additional help just yet, but,

Well, they liked it.

At first, Elain wasn’t sure if Cassian was cut out for the task, because the very first try was a little rough.

“Cass, these are not your enemies that you are about to smite,” Elain instructed gently, prying his fingers from the stems of irises, which he was clutching like he was about to throw a lance.

“Pfff, you look like you are about to choke a chicken,” Nesta teased. And promptly realised her mistake, biting her lip.

Cassian cocked his brow and murmured seductively,

“What chicken am I choking, sweetheart? My own,”

“Oh no,” Elain stepped in between them, hands on her hips. “No. No. No. Absolutely not.”

“Lainey, don’t allow Cass to choke his chicken in front of us,” begged Azriel, working quickly and deftly, and soliciting an envious look from Cassian, whose flowers were in complete disarray, compared to Azriel’s neat piles and methodical assembly line.

“Yes, no one is choking chickens, penises or each other in here,” ordered Elain sternly, while Nesta and Azriel were laughing silently.

“Hehe,” smirked Cassian, “Elain said ‘penis’!”

“Take your dirty talk and deeds,”

Dirty deeds done dirt cheap, dirty deeds done dirt cheap

Cassian began rocking to his own singing, imitating the gravel of Brian Johnson’s voice rather successfully, headbanging over his babybreath, bluebells and irises.

Chicken choking forgotten for a moment.

 As Cassian fussed over a vase, working on each stem and arranging them just so, wearing a little white apron no less, he asked casually, “So, brother, four?”

Azriel was in his own headspace, and he didn’t even hear Cassian, as he was busy with his own flower arrangement.

There was, expectedly, a competition going on—who’d complete the most arrangements in an hour. Rowan, a veritable giant, and Cassian’s best friend, also wore an apron, but a long one, like a butcher, and was significantly ahead of the pack. That bothered Azriel more than he cared to admit. So, he was re-strategizing his strategy.

“Four what?” Rowan inquired, not taking his eyes off the flowers, working like a machine.

“Ask Az here,” Cassian suggested. He was catching up to Azriel with an alarming speed.

Azriel had never lost, so far. He wasn’t going to lose today.

“Stop speaking in riddles. What are you talking about?”

“Word on the street is that our Az here provides the flower girl with a minimum of four orgasms on the daily,”

Azriel started and finally tore his eyes from the flowers.

Both Rowan and Cassian were watching him, smirking.

“I guess it’s true then,”

“Fuck off.”

“If that’s true,” Rowan drawled, “good for you, man. Though you are putting us to shame with this ridiculous offer of yours. How do you keep up?”

“Easily,” Azriel shrugged. “But it’s freaking me out that you two are talking about my sex life so casually.”

“But fucking four? Daily?” repeated Cassian, shaking his head.

“Yeah, Elain, man,” Rowan rubbed the back of his head, mussing his silver hair, “who would’ve thought?”

Cassian nodded, “No offense, brother, but Elain doesn’t strike anyone as particularly adventurous in the bedroom,”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Azriel said simply.

“Very beautiful,” offered Rowan pacifically, “but…you know…Kind of like Elide, I guess. You wouldn’t know it, looking at her,”

Cassian was nodding. “Yeah, she looks like she eats macaroons and reads Jane Austen,”

“Macarons,” said Azriel.

“What?”

“It’s macaron. Not macaroon.”

“What the hell is the difference?”

“One is a French biscuit, made with almond flour and filled with a creamy filling. The other, is a coconut concoction that one usually eats at Passover.”

Rowan was chuckling. Cassian was shaking his head, grunting, “you would know. So, does she? Eat maca--,”

“No, she doesn’t even like macarons. And she doesn’t read Jane Austen. She reads espionage novels. She likes Daniel Silva. Any more stupid questions?”

Elide. Of course. He should’ve guessed.

Elain and Elide met through Rowan and it was friendship at first sight.

Azriel couldn’t argue—the two women were similar in many ways. Both were on a quiet side, polite, well-mannered. Elain—a ray of sunshine, tall, slender and curvaceous, smiling and affable, with piles of golden-brown locks and warm brown eyes. Elide—the opposite—small, pale, with perfectly straight, silky black hair and dark, midnight eyes. Both—crafty in the ways of the world, charming, when needed, capable of getting into everyone’s good graces, and therefore, getting what they wanted.

“No, no more stupid questions,” said Cassian. “Just don’t know how you two grumps attracted such lively girls,”

“Lorcan and I aren’t ‘grumps’. We just talk when we need to and don’t have the need for instant gratification or to be the center of attention. Something I can’t say about you,”

“It’s not about me,” Cassian protested, but Azriel stopped him, by raising his finger,

 “Now, if you are not going to shut the fuck up about my woman and me, I will spread a rumour amongst your women, that it’s not four, but six. Daily. Let’s see how you measure up then.”

Silence fell.

Azriel won.

His 36th win.

 Now

 “Yes, the second,” Elain nodded with a satisfied smile.

 Azriel

 Naturally, today, he woke her up properly, as he always did.

They stayed in an adorable little villa, near Montepulciano. It was everything a Tuscan villa was supposed to be…

including the dust that settled in its 800-year-old walls. And Elain coughed and coughed and coughed, surprisingly not coughing up a lung.

“We can’t stay here,” Azriel said, frowning.

“Where are going to go? We are in the middle of Tuscany and it’s 10 pm,” she reminded him.

Ever resourceful, he dragged the mattress off the antique bed and plopped it down on the floor of their small balcony.

“We sleep here. Under the night Tuscan sky.”

It was a lovely, if chilly night, and Elain would’ve enjoyed it if she didn’t fall asleep almost immediately and slept through the night.

She was still asleep, when the birds began their morning song and Azriel positioned her on her hands and knees, and carefully removed her nightgown, baring her to the dry, cool morning air.

“Someone will see us,” she murmured sleepily.

She tucked her hands under her cheek, and followed the direction of Azriel’s hand on her hip, rising her butt high up, and arching her back for him.

Azriel loved having sex out in the open. Especially if she was completely naked. He wasn’t overt about it, but the thrill of being found out, the titillating desire to be watched was always present. She knew it. She indulged his fantasies.

“I don’t think anyone would mind watching you,” he whispered hotly in her ear and lightly bit the apple of her cheek. “But it’s also like 4:15 in the morning. So maybe they are still sleeping.”

He settled behind her and she felt his hands on her back, smoothing over the sharp cut of her tight waist and then the soft curve of her hips.

“Spread your legs for me, my love, I want to play with you a little bit,” he guided her, and she followed his direction, squatting inelegantly on her knees, thighs wide apart for him. He cupped her fully in his palm and then pinched her clit, hard, twisting it and rubbing it between his two fingers, until she bit her forearm, trying to stifle her cries of instant pleasure.  He pinched again, then again, rubbing tightly, while he bit her buttock playfully, but hard enough to leave a pink mark.

“Mmmm,” she groaned, when he nibbled on her flesh again, tugging on the swollen clit with relentless dedication. She managed to twist enough to kiss his knee and whispered, eyes still closed, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my beautiful girl,” he leaned forward and kissed her wet, stretched opening, dragging his tongue around and around the rim, “and you are so nice and wet for me in the morning. My good girl, what do you want?”

“Only you,” she vowed. “Only you, my Az.”

“Let’s fill your pretty little hole then,” he licked on it again, and then slid one strong, long finger inside. As he began to pump her slowly, he proposed, “When I fill you with my cock later on,”

“Uh oh,” she moaned dreamily, smiling a loving smile, enjoying his finger to the fullest.

“I think I’d like to add a finger or two as well. What do you think?”

“I’d like that, I think,” she complied easily.

Elain was not a particularly imaginative lover, but Azriel was the opposite—he had too much imagination when it came to everything. Especially Elain, and what he liked to do with her sexually. What was absolutely fantastic, and he thanked all the gods for this phenomenon, was that Elain was willing to try anything. She was an absolutely willing and eager lover, who learned from him and learned of her body with readiness and joy. He dominated her completely, but that was the nature of their relationship, and they easily fell into their roles, from the very beginning. She was submissive, loved praise, and loved being guided and told what to do. More than anything else, she loved pleasing him. There was never any pull and push, no competition, no power struggles. Elain was made for him, created and carved from something that was innately his, whether it was his body or his mind, and they lived and loved harmoniously. He complimented her perfectly: her temperament, her needs, her wants. He treated her with admiration, gentleness, adoration and respect, and while his own expectations were high, she met them all with ease. She took control when she needed to. Received what she wanted from him, however she needed to. And he gave and gave.

Some, or many, called them soulmates.

Perhaps that’s what they were. Or maybe, they were even more than that.

Azriel stretched his legs on either side of her curved body and then added another finger inside of her sopping, slippery opening, reaching deep into her and pumping her firmly.

“Auuuu, babe, it’s good…” she squealed, “it’s so good.”

Unable to wait any longer, he pulled her buttocks apart with his available hand and swept his tongue over the tiny opening, causing her to seize with surprise and pleasure. Instinctively, she moved her hips against his tongue, pushing her backside into his lips. He licked the little hole in earnest, dragging his tongue back and forth between both of her openings, making her tremble and shudder every time his tongue reached one or the other.

As he sat to the task of licking and sucking her tight hole, he thrust a third finger into her dripping passage, feeling her shift against his face to accommodate the stretch. It was a lot, and she whimpered and moaned from the pressure, but he knew that she could take four, though he wasn’t in a hurry, and worked her diligently and steadily, his tongue laving the other hole just as eagerly.

She was shaking between his legs, her toes curling beneath her, rapid pants escaping into the morning mists, her hair draping the tiled floor in front of her, even spilling through the balcony rails.

Somewhere they heard sheep bleating and Elain laughed softly, before arching her back even further, not caring how splayed she looked. There wasn’t a part of her that he hasn’t seen, hasn’t touched or licked or kissed, not an inch of her that wasn’t caressed by his rough hands, not an orifice that he hasn’t penetrated with his magnificent cock. He’d burrowed inside of her so deeply, so wholly, he possessed all of her and she knew what it’s like to truly be part of another person, to be loved with egregious passion.

He fed another finger inside of her and she cried out, trembling and grunting, as she grabbed and squeezed his foot with mighty strength.

He tore his lips away from her bottom and grinned,

“Love, when you are in labour with our baby, I am fully prepared for the fact that you will break my fingers, maybe even my hand.”

“I am sorry,” she laughed, and kissed his foot, dragging her tongue over his toes.

There wasn’t a part of him that she did not love, did not worship with everything she had. No part of his body remained un-kissed, un-touched, un-caressed. A lazy Sunday, especially if the weather was crap and they had no plans to go out, was her favourite time—she could spend the day loving her Azriel. On those days, she pleasured him. And if she spent hours with his cock buried in her throat, or his balls between her lips, or her tongue in his ass, she was only too happy.

The tips of his fingers crawled into that hidden spot inside of her, curling just so, so he could massage and rub her into a frenzy. He stilled for a moment, to allow her to adjust to the fullness and the stretch, as she bit his foot, trying to stifle her screams. She leaked slowly over his hand, as most of it was situated in her clutching, hungry tightness.

“Very good, my baby,” he praised, kissing her buttocks and then giving her anus a few approving licks, “taking all four inside of you,”

“Oh my god, oh,” she groaned, “it’s so tight…Az, my love, I am so full,”

“I know, love,” he coaxed evenly, his hand beginning a steady, firm barrage of deep, pounding thrusts, “but it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeess,” she only managed, voice thin, pleading. She could barely hold herself up, so he wrapped his arm around her hips, keeping her ass up. She grabbed the balcony wrought-iron spindles, squeezing them tightly, forehead pressed into the mattress, as he pumped her harshly, keeping her on the verge of constant climax, but pulling back just so, for her to moan and beg him in a never ending litany.

“Baby, you want to come?” he teased, still busy with her butthole, which softened under his furious sucking and if they had more time and privacy, Elain would be ready to take him anally soon enough.

“Yes,” she grunted, “yes,”

“Ask nicely, and maybe,”

“Ugh, you are such a horrible tease,” she complained, biting his foot in spite, and he laughed, before slapping her firm, soft buttock.

“Biting a person who is making you come so nicely?” he slapped her again, and she yelped with pleasure, wiggling her ass, silently asking for more.

The walls of her passage clenched desperately over his fingers, and she made a choking, frantic sound in her chest, now beyond pleading or even moaning. He sucked, and slapped, and bit, and thrust, pumping her open, the sounds of the wet and the skin inside of her completely obscene, and music to both of their ears.

Azriel noticed a man, either a delivery guy or a grounds keeper, watching them wide eyed and shocked from a distance. Probably not something he expected to see at 4:40 in the morning. Not that he made a move to leave.

Azriel opted not to alarm Elain, who was coming violently on his hand, her body trembling and jerking, her beautiful, quiet orgasm sweeping everything in its path. His girl deserved a proper wake up, deserved and needed her climaxes, and deserved to be watched, because she was so beautiful. Her teeth and tongue clamped tightly on his foot, his toes, as she bit and licked, completely undone, turned inside out by his expert hand.

He still worked her hand in her, his thrusts shallow and not as strong, when she collapsed on the mattress at last, eyes closed, panting.

He smiled and finally slipped on the mattress alongside her, though he kept a finger between her folds, rubbing soothingly. She’d bite his head off if he removed his hand from her this quickly.

“Good morning my love,” he whispered at last, kissing her cheek.

“Mmmm, good morning,” she sighed with satiated pleasure.

“Some guy caught an eyeful,” he whispered, but she only snuggled to his chest.

“I don’t care…As long as you were watching me, that’s all that matters.”

“I wouldn’t mind sliding into your little bum right now,” he confessed, stroking her hip and her curvy backside.

“Do you want to take me?” she offered sweetly, eyes fluttering open.

He kissed her head and smiled, “So tempting, but not here and not now. Let’s jump in the shower and then be on our way. We’ve got a decent amount of driving to do today.”

She nodded.

“Did I tell you that I love you?” she stroked his cheek, the sharp, angular cut of it, the dark bronze skin.

“You did, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

“I love you, Azriel.”

“I love you, Elain.”

 Elain

Their day was long.

They had their cappuccino and cornetti at some café on the road.

Their trip had a purpose—they were actually driving to Maranello, to the Ferrari headquarters where Azriel had 3 days of business meetings.

When Az told her that he was thinking of going to Italy, it was no brainer to say ‘yes’.

It was the first time she was going to leave her business, her shop, for an extended period of time, but Feyre promised to oversee the operations, while Cerridwen, whom Elain recently hired as a full-time employee and who was Nuala’s sister, was going to be responsible for the day-to-day.

The last time Elain’s been to Italy was when she was barely 10 years old. A few years before everything’s went to shit. Back then, her father completed a very lucrative business deal and there was a lot of disposable cash, so the family decided to take a grand trip to Italy.

Little Feyre who was only seven screeched and begged to go to Disneyland, while Nesta and their mother voted for Italy. No one asked Elain, assuming that she’d go wherever she was told.

The trip was extensive, almost four weeks, and they hit all the glamorous Southern parts—the Amalfi coast, with their headquarters in a rented villa near Positano. Then they went to Portofino, and their father rented a yacht for a few days, the trip culminating in Capri. It was a whirlwind on sun and the sea, of lemons, eating grilled squid, at which Feyre stared in horror, though she liked the taste, amazing fruit, endless pastries and gelato. Even their mother yanking a few pastries away from Elain, hissing that she ‘grow fat and not find a husband’ didn’t mar the experience. Elain, always the plumper of the sisters, was used to the warning by then.

 This time around, Elain could eat as much pastry as she wanted.

They landed in Rome, spent four days there, since she insisted on going to the Vatican Museum twice, hear Mass at St. Peter’s, and she didn’t know if she annoyed Azriel with her endless excitement and tales of art, artists, and biblical stories, but she couldn’t help herself.

She was an Art History major in NYU, receiving a full scholarship to attend. She loved it. Didn’t like college all that much as a whole, but loves studying. When everyone was partying, drinking, fucking and skipping classes, she went to the Met and to MOMA and learned and enjoyed herself. She loved history of religion, of other cultures and though not at all religious herself, none of them were, her knowledge on the subject was thorough.

Azriel, it seemed, liked her passion, her excitement, and listened attentively when she went on long explanation of what this or that Saint did and what grizzly death they’d suffered. And what was the significance of the painting or sculpture of the said Saint. Obviously, he was very artistically inclined as well, though his preference lay in design and industrial art, but he enjoyed listening and discussing. They spent hours and hours meandering the halls of the museum, and of the cathedral, and both spent a good half an hour in front of the Pieta, staring in silence and quiet contemplation at the sculpture, holding hands.

It was when they were sitting at a café, sipping some bitter Campari cocktails and watched the sprawling vistas of Rome that Azriel confided to her. Told her of his childhood. She knew some of the details, but he never talked about his childhood, and she opted not to pressure him. It was clear enough that it was horrific in many ways, and bringing up all those memories didn’t make sense to Elain.

Told her how his father, who was rich and vicious, won custody of him from his mother, not because he wanted his son, but out of spite, to torment the mother. And then it was years of solitude and loneliness and emotional and physical abuse. Azriel’s only reprieve was drawing, making designs, sometimes with chalk on the pavement, sometimes on scraps of paper. His stepmother threw everything out as soon as he made it. He languished in his father’s world for 8 years, until a catastrophic event took place—his stepbrothers doused him, his hands, in gasoline and lit him up. They didn’t call the paramedics either, and simply stood there, watching, as he burned. Finally, the neighbors heard his screams and police and ambulance came at last.

Because he was young, he recovered most of the sensations and feeling in his hands, but the skin was permanently scarred and his father refused skin grafts.

He’d met Cassian at the hospital, who came there having been beaten so badly by his foster father, that he had a concussion, broken ribs and a punctured eye socket.

Mrs. Darling, Rhys’s mother, who was one of the biggest benefactors of the children’s hospital where they were recovering, heard their stories and thankfully, her wealth opened every door. Her influence and wealth were no match for Azriel’s father. Hence when she decided that she wanted to adopt the two boys, little could be done to dissuade her. Azriel and Cassian still spent some time in foster care, while the documents were being processed and all the formalities legalized, but at the end, they ended up with the Darlings, as their adopted sons.

Elain wanted to cry for him, for his destroyed childhood, for his tormented youth, for his injuries, for the lack of love in his life. For his sake, though, she didn’t.

Sensing that he needed her support, she didn’t release his hand for the remainder of the day.

And she told him how much she loved him and how happy he made her.

 They left Montepulciano, and then drove for a few hours and stopped at Orvieto, and explored its unnecessary enormous Duomo, which was situated on the hill, amidst the Umbrian lushness. The tiny town did offer spectacular views and great wine, which they enjoyed with lunch.

 Now

Azriel worked his fingers into the supple warmth of her damp pussy and looked down, before ordering, “wider, Lainey”.

She spread her legs wider, her knit dress folded haphazardly over the belly.

“Wider,” he said and she placed one foot on the seat, exposing herself completely to him.

It was never wide enough for him, for he liked to see everything, liked to spread and open and pull her wide apart for his eyes, for his exploration.

He pressed his thumb to her plump pink clit and began to rub.

She whined impatiently and he smiled,

“We are almost there…”

“I need you,” she moaned, kissing his shoulder through his shirt.

“I need you too, my beauty,” he nodded, “but I think once we get there, you’ll forget all about me.”

She tsked and announced, “I don’t know if anything will impress me as much as your cock in my mouth,”

He started at the blunt words, her amused grin and then burst out laughing.

“Naughty.”

In a few minutes, he rounded a small green hill and Elain’s breath caught in her throat.

“Oh, gods…Az…”

He was smiling.

He’d never been here before, but he’d done his research, finally finding the right spot.

A tiny hidden valley, nestled between a few rolling Tuscan hills, with a small turquoise lake sparkling in the late afternoon sun. In the distance, a mandatory Tuscan villa.

And poppies. Fields of poppies, stretching as far as the eye can see. A blanket of ruby-red poppies, gently swaying in the pine-scented air.

This place was a damn Walmart painting come true, and Azriel loved it for its kitsch, its predictability.

“It’s gorgeous!” she gasped. Then chuckled, adding, “Like one of those mass-produced paintings,”

At that, Azriel roared with laughter, killed the engine and they got out of the car.

“My thoughts exactly!” he nodded vigorously.

She ran into the poppies, brushing her palm over the petals, “But it’s worth it! No painting can ever do this justice! Az…it’s so beautiful!” she twirled in the field of red, her white dress a stark contrast to the vibrancy of the colours around her—the cobalt of the cloudless sky, the emerald green of the hills, the blood-red of the poppies.

He folded his arms and said, “I am glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it!”

She inspected all the wildflowers that bloomed among the poppies, picking a few purple ones and a daisy and tucking them behind her ear. Another daisy she brought to him and tucked it into his hair.

“There is a blanket in the trunk,” he jerked his head towards the car, and unbuttoned his shirt almost to the navel, “if you want to picnic,”

“I want to picnic!” she squealed and ran to the car to get what she needed.

Soon there was a blanket on the grass and a few bottles of wine in a basket.

He slid down, stretching on the blanket, toeing off his shoes, rolling his shoulders. This was nice. He also relished her happiness, how her high ponytail bounced about as she ran through the field barefoot, and then began twirling, arms outstretched and singing loudly,

The hills are alive with the sound of

Griswold, he helped out.

“Are you coming here?” he called out, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“No,” she yelled, “I am picking flowers!”

“They’ll wilt,” he muttered reasonably, but she didn’t hear him.

Azriel dozed off, surprising himself. But the pleasant heat, the sunshine, the breeze, the birds—all lulled him into sleep. He stirred only when he sensed Elain near, and when he opened his eyes, he was treated by a lovely surprise. He propped himself on his elbows and watched his beautiful girl walk towards him completely naked, with a heap of flowers in the crook of her arm. What she did with her dress he didn’t know and didn’t care. But he drunk in the slim, curvy silhouette of her body, the long, slender legs and the toned thighs. Her smooth, pink sex glistened just a bit with her usual arousal, and full breasts bounced with every step. Her hair flowed behind her, unbound.

“I got hot,” she announced.

He grinned.

“I can see that. I like it when you get hot like this.”

She stood over him, her delicious slit taunting him and he made to touch it, but she dumped all the flowers on him instead and said, “get up”.

“Why?!” he frowned. “I am so comfortable.”

“I can make you a little more comfortable,” she promised, “but for that, you have to get up.”

With a groan, he got on his feet, only to have her slide on her knees in front of him. She looked up and murmured, “by the time you are done with me, I only want to have gelato to soothe my throat.”

He swallowed audibly, watching her unbutton his trousers and then his shirt. She removed the pants completely, but left the white shirt on, before placing a few soft, loving kisses on the thick slabs of muscles on his stomach. The well-defined outline of his Adonis Belt she traced with her tongue, inevitably making her way from his hip towards the final destination.

“And I want my knees bruised,” she added with a wicked smirk.

He flicked her nose and shook his head, “such filthy words coming from this pretty little mouth.”

She licked her lips with impatience, hungrily watching him fist his member and give it a few rough, preliminary strokes.

“Gods, your cock is gorgeous,” she gasped with admiration, watching him work himself with practiced determination.

“You like my cock?” he drew the thick, smooth head of it over her full lips and she whimpered with anticipation, nodding, kissing it affectionately, with slow, open mouth kisses, as he continued to pump it lazily.

She admitted, “more than anything. Az, Az,” she begged impatiently, as he smeared a trickle of liquid that dribbled from the tip over her lips, “please,”

“Please what?”

She rested her hands on his thighs, kneeling close enough so that her breasts brushed against them, “I want it in my mouth. Please.”

He lightly smacked the thick girth of his shaft over her half-opened mouth, making her shake with anticipation, smiling down at her. Her eyes burned with raw, overwhelming desire.

“But I like it when you ask me, baby. Tell me more,”

“That your cock is gorgeous and ridiculously huge?” she chuckled, relishing in his rubbing the tip insistently over her lips, as she licked the little slit.

“Keep going,” he encouraged.

“That I love you and can’t wait to suck it?”

“Alright, babe,” she nodded at last, “I guess you’ll just have to suck my huge dick,” and with that, he slid between her lips.

She smiled around him and pulled on it deeper, dragging her tongue over and under the thick shaft. It was always just a little too big for her, so she gasped, as he filled her mouth more and more, sliding in steadily. She eased her throat as much as she could, accepting the thrust and feeling the smooth head dip down, brushing the back of her throat. He was watching her intently, every bob and swallow of her throat, making sure that she was comfortable enough to hold him in. “Big?” he murmured. Her eyes teared up, but she managed a small nod. Her hands squeezed his thighs nervously, tightly, stroking the backs of them, while he began to pull out slowly, before sliding back in.

Nothing was more exciting than Elain’s ability to mould her throat around his shaft, while those big brown eyes blinked at him, seeking approval. He put his hand over her head, stroking it, then caressing her face, her hollowed cheeks, while giving her mouth a few exploratory thrusts.

She readied herself and pulled back, releasing the cock with an audible pop, and then licking the underside, from the balls to the tip.

“Just like that, my love,” he nodded, watching her tuck her face in the crease of his hip and slide her tongue up and down the sides of his cock. “Is that good?”

“It’s the best,” she vowed, “I love licking!” she added enthusiastically, proceeding to do just that.

He always remembered that she was very innocent and whatever she knew, no matter how sensual, erotic or even perverse, it all came from him. He taught her—gently, firmly and thoroughly the art of the bedroom and whatever they did, he was completely assured that she enjoyed and wanted every moment of it. Thankfully, she was so innocent that she didn’t know how to pretend or fake anything, especially when it came to sex, and didn’t know how to play games. She was eager and loving and excitable because what they did together, with each other, pleased her, and for no other reason. Azriel cherished this level of honesty more than anything.

Therefore, when she said that she loved licking, she showed him just how much she enjoyed it, licking up and down voraciously, over the sides, watching him unblinking. He cupped the pouch of his balls in one hand and carefully eased it into her mouth.

“You are so good to me,” he groaned, as she wrapped her lips around the ball and began to suck eagerly, not caring if she was loud, smacking her lips, tongue working non-stop, caressing the flesh. She hummed appreciatively around the balls, sending a pleasant shiver down his thighs, her mouth completely filled with him. “That’s good, my girl,” he stroked her head, “just like that. Keep going,” his head fell back with satisfaction, and she swallowed hard around his balls, almost moaning at the sight of his neck, the expression of pleasure written on his face.

“Can I tell you a story?” he muttered huskily, looking back down at her, his eyes dark and his face tense. Elain nodded. He gripped his cock and then slid it back in her mouth, almost to the hilt, making her choke and gag at once, watching her eyes widen.

She was drooling, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the pressure of her member in her throat, or from the visual display of his stunning body above her. The thick pectorals, adorned with black and blue ink twitched as he began to pump in and out of her mouth, hard and steady. He held the back of her head, but the clutch of his hand was light and casual, only keeping her in place, as his narrow hips flexed with each deep push. A delicious bead of sweat ran down the cobbled network of his abdominal muscles, slowly making its way to the deep V etched into his hips, towards the thick cock that he was currently ramming into her mouth.

She drooled. She licked and laved and lapped. She didn’t care how messy or ridiculous she looked, because her man loved her and loved her on her knees in front of him.

“I couldn’t stop watching you talk,” he grumbled, “the first time I saw you. Your plump lips…Oh fuck, baby, you feel so, so good,” he rode her smoothly, with deep, expert strokes, “you wore that rose-tinted lipstick…and all I could think of afterward was those lips wrapped around my dick.”

She smiled over his member, lightly shaking her head, as much as her current position would allow.

“I am sorry, honey,” he smiled at her, “this pervy mind couldn’t think of anything else but getting my dick down your throat.”

And demonstrating just that, and the resolution of his dream, he pushed further.

“Alright?” he asked, carefully holding her jaw. She blinked her approval. He was unable to take his eyes off her, her lush lips wrapped tightly around the dark mass of him, her beautiful eyes tearing from pressure. He wiped the tears with his thumbs and then gave a brief nod, “give me those flowers, baby.”

Obviously, she couldn’t glance down, so she blindly grabbed a handful of flowers and handed them to him, her expression amused, a little surprised.

“What’s more romantic,” he murmured, stroking her hollowed cheeks and then pulling out a little, before pushing back in, “than putting pretty flowers into my Lainey’s hair,” and he plucked a small poppy from the heap, and pushed in into her hair, “while she deepthroats me?”

He was heavy and thick in her mouth, salty, delicious and familiar, and as he began thrusting firmly, the thick head hitting the back of her throat, Elain settled in for a ride. She wasn’t kidding when she asked for her throat to be raw by the end of it—she liked being sore somewhere in her body from him, at all times. Between her legs, inside her rectum, in her throat—it didn’t matter, though it was nice if it was everywhere, but she loved being marked by him in some way.

The hum and rumble in Azriel’s throat, that of masculine satisfaction and some kind of primal dominance made her so wet, she leaked down her thighs. But he didn’t tell her to touch herself, so she didn’t. He just fucked her throat steadily, the audible sound of her choking and sputtering around his cock and the satisfied snarls emanating from him, the only sounds around them. His hips rocked hard, pumping deep, as he garbled endearments and praise to her, “is that so good, honey? You feel amazing…”

She squeezed his thighs in affirmation. As he worked on her, he kept putting flowers in her hair, admiring her sucking and his work, “so gorgeous, baby. My beautiful girl…Good cock?”

“Mmmm,” she only managed, saliva bathing her chin and chest, her eyes rolling back with pleasure and exhaustion.

“Can you handle a little more?” he begged, “I don’t want to come yet, my love,” another flower in her hair. “I love you on your knees with my cock in her mouth.”

He set a brutal rhythm, muttered, “choke, baby…” and she did, gagging and panting over his member, the lack of oxygen making her pliant and obliging, her mouth existing for his pleasure. When they played a little rougher, he could request to squeeze her throat a little with his hand, while he choked her with his cock, but today, he was feeling romantic, as was she.

Her hair dripped with flowers of all kinds, as he fashioned her into some kind of Summer Lady. Or maybe a Dusk Lady, since the sun began its descent and shadows spread over the pretty little valley.

“Fuck me, you are so beautiful,” he grunted, looking down at her. “My flower girl, with my cock in her mouth. Bob a little, love, show me how much you like it,” he encouraged and she immediately began to bob her head  up and down on him, drool sliding down his shaft, her eyes pleading for his approval, which he gave generously.

He gently, kindly stroked her face, her throat, feeling his cock deep inside it, moving in her, rubbing at the indentation with his thumb. Then, he cupped her face between his large hands and murmured, “open up”, thumbs brushing over her damp cheeks, as tears slid down when he started to thrust intently, battering her throat. “My girl is sucking so well,” he was relentless now, pounding and pounding, an Elain thought that she might just pass out from the sensation, feeling lightheaded. Azriel had inhuman stamina when he was between her legs, but that also translated to when he was in her mouth, which meant he could ravage her completely. “I’ll feed you all the gelato myself, if you can suck a little more,” he promised with a smirk, pulling out completely. “Breathe,” he ordered, and she gulped in some air, before he thrust back inside, “are you tired?”

She shook her head ‘no’. She was never tired for him. She moaned, though his cock pushed down all sound with brutal, excited enthusiasm, as he cupped his balls tightly in his hand, readying to finally come. “Fuck, baby, you suck so well,” he squeezed her shoulder, stooping over her, the muscled of his abdomen twitching and tensing, his balls tight against her chin. Grabbing her shoulder with one hand, he cupped her under the jaw and kept her head still, as he exploded in her mouth. He poured down her throat with a pleased, blissful moan, throwing his head back, pumping harshly and erratically, filling her mouth over and over. She sucked and drank, swallowing quickly, gluttonously. Azriel always tasted heavenly, but perhaps it was something about being in Italy and all the fruit and wine that they’ve been consuming, but she couldn’t get enough of him now. He shot rope after rope down her throat and she lapped it all with pleasure. He dropped on his knees, exhausted, his cock still in her mouth, and she stroked and caressed his body soothingly, swallowing the last of him.

“Gods, Elain,” was all he managed, as he finally withdrew in an endlessly long pull from her lips.

She gasped, and licked her lips, before placing a loving, playful kiss on the pink, wet head of the shaft.

“Did you have fun, my love?” she cooed tenderly, as Azriel slumped on the blanket, head her on her lap.

“Baby, why do you spoil me like this?” he moaned, reaching for her bare plump breast and cupping lightly.

“Probably because I love you more than it’s prudent,” she smiled, her voice hoarse. “More than anything. Love you like I didn’t know I could love anybody. Also,”

“Yes?”

His chest constricted from her simple admissions, from the pure earnestness of her words, from the love that was shining in her brown eyes. He was undeserving of this woman, of her overwhelming love for him, of everything that she gave him so selflessly. But he listened and listened, because everything she told him was like a balm on all the wounds of his soul, and music to his heart.

Her lips were gorgeously, obscenely swollen, and he dragged his thumb over their plumpness. She added, “you are very hot.”

“Ahhh,” he chuckled. “So you are using me for my body?”

“I’d be stupid not to use you for your body. You got one hell of a body, my mysterious, shadowy Azriel.”

“Well, flower girl, you go ahead and use my body as much as you want, for anything you desire. It’s yours.”

He kissed her hand. Then, reached up and kissed her pretty pink nipple.

“As is my heart,” he added softly. “Anything you want. It’s all yours.”

She lay next to him, both of them sprawled in the blanket of flowers. She picked a poppy and stuck it behind his ear.

“Pretty boy Azriel.”

He propped his cheek and turned to face her. She was still covered in flowers, from all his handiwork.

“We are good together, aren’t we?” she murmured, laying her hand on his neck.

“We are. We are very good together, Lainey.”

She bit her swollen lip and then said, voice quiet, a little uncertain,

“Maybe you want to marry me?” she proposed.

He stilled, waiting for more.

She squeezed the back of his neck a little tighter and continued, no stopping her now, “I know we were thinking later, maybe next y-,”

“Yes,” he nodded, “yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Elain, I want to marry you now.”

She gasped, tears of joy moistening her eyes, “In Florence?” she begged.

“Yes. In Florence,” he cupped her face in his. “Let’s go get married!”

[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

               『朧』Commemorative release event  【Toshiya】  2021.7.25

                                           Translation&Notes  Part-1

Notes before reading: This is 1st part of the translation/notes of the Toshiya solo online event for the release of “Oboro” streamed on 25th July.  This part is aprox the first 18-20 min of the 45 min total of the talk. 

Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated ------

Part 1 

Higuchi Yasuyuki : Hello everyone, this is Toshiya’s Oboro Release Commemorative Event….thank you for watching us….I’m Higuchi Yasuyuki *to Toshiya* Thank you for being here….

Toshiya: Thank you for having me….

H: How is it going?

Toshiya: It’s hot, isn’t it?

H: It is….for real….I want to drink a beer….

Toshiya: That’s right…something very cold and light,right?….

H. says that comments are already appearing on the screen so, they are going to proceed with the talk little by little (he means  people are already watching, as they are already commenting)

H: I met you last year in person because of an article for a magazine *Toshiya nods* We took several pictures and so…. T: Yes, it was for [PHY], right? *Toshiya’s interview featured in PHY【ファイ】VOL.14, you can read it here* H: Yes, that’s it.  After that, unexpectedly, Corona happened and I have interviewed you several times remotely. T: That’s right. H: Are you doing well? T: Yes, I’m doing well…. H: Did something change about your physical condition/health? T: My physical condition…. somehow…. I’d say I lost some weight…. H: Did you lose weight? How? T: I did nothing at all, it was naturally… H: Naturally? Losing weight naturally…. I’m jealous…. T: Well…. somehow…. due to the state of emergency declaration…. I couldn’t go to the gym…. I guess I lost some weight because of that…. H: Because you are losing muscle mass…. T: Maybe I lost some…. Like, somehow, I became a mere shadow of myself *laughs* H: You are burning out…but usually if you don't go to the gym, you will naturally gain weight, right? T: Well, somehow because of the muscle mass loss, I lost weight…. H: I’m jealous of your physical constitution… T: If I don’t go to the gym, I will lose weight…. H: I’m still jealous though…. that’s it….so, this event  will be like a talk event, just like the one we had more or less a year ago… T: Yes, at that place…. H: At Minatomirai…. T: In Yokohama…. H:  The five of you were men in black*…. *This might be a reference to “ Detective Conan“, a Japanese manga series, in which  the primary antagonists of the series is a crime syndicate called the Black Organization. T: It was like   it was the first time that the five of us were in a situation like that... talking on the spot face to face…..*smiles* H: *sighs* It was hell…. T: *laughs* Wasn’t it? H: You were really nervous…. T: Dir en grey can’t talk when the five of us get together….

H: Since when does it feel that way? T: I wonder since when…. I don’t know that… H: But it wasn’t like that from the beginning…. T: But I don’t feel we were that talkative either…. more like…. it’s moments of “who is going to talk first”, “no one is talking now” going on…. H: It’s like you are probing each other…. like” you, talk!”, the atmosphere/mood is amazing…. *laughs* T: *Laughs* It’s like that…. H: Like you don’t answer anything unless you are addressed by your name…. T: It’s like that, it’s like that…. it’s true…. H: I wonder if these five people have meetings in the same way…. T: When it comes to who is going to talk or not, I’m just like “no” …..I feel like relying on others for that…. H: But it’s a band that has been around for a long time, still you all are like “who is going to talk first”…. T: That’s true…it’s like, if someone wants to talk, I’m sure they are going to talk if  they want to….those who want to talk, will talk….

H: Is there any occasion with the members in which you have talked face to face for a long time?  More or less recent…. T: I have no memory of that….*laughs* Higuchi burst into laugh. T: I have no memory of that…. H: That’s amazing… T: That’s right…. it’s amazing…. H: It would be troublesome if suddenly, you are forcibly in such a situation…. T: It would be….it would be troublesome…like…that’s impossible…. H: Impossible *laughs* T: That’s right….I can’t see it happening… H: You can’t…..someday, I would like to do something like that…. T: No way… H: *Laughs* It’s been a year since that event, it’s been already a year but, what kind of things you have been doing?  Do you remember? What were you doing? T: Now I’m solely making songs…I did preproduction stuff….what else?....when there was a live….or more like, when a live was scheduled we did rehearsals….the lives couldn’t be held but we did rehearsals for them… H: Then, it’s like you were preparing yourself for those activities….. T: It was like “let’s put my efforts into something” all the time…. H: It doesn’t seem like it was hard for you to keep being motivated…. T: Until we did the recording of the Rock-May-Kan GIG, nothing changed in me. I was so surprised/shocked because of that…. H: At the time of the Rock-May-Kan GIG…. T: At that time, I feel for the first time a sense of crisis…. that if it keeps going like this, I will not be able to express the things I wanted to. H: It was like a growth/revelation…. T: That’s it…. H: You got a different perspective… T: That’s it…for me….of course I was playing a live….it’s like the mental image of working in bringing together all the feelings into that environment but…. then, among that,  as there are also parts in which I’m rather a person that expresses themselves than a bassist, in my mind, I’m holding an instrument called “bass”, it’s a bass but I have to play without being trapped by it….

H: You mean not being limited by it…. T: I’m very conscious of that…. that’s right….Both of my hands are blocked/occupied but there (at a live), a way of expression is created by myself. I wonder myself if it is this way. For example, people who attended lives told me they had their eyes drawn towards something. I wonder if it is really like that. Like, an atmosphere that it’s created when I’m playing bass. I wonder if they can perceive that because I can express those things…. That kind of power of expression. Even if I did it (at  Rock-May-Kan GIG) as nothing changed, I didn’t feel that….somehow, it’s natural that it feels this way, I thought at the moment “this is bad/problematic) H: However, it was good that you could do a live (with audience) after that…. T: Of course, of course…that’s right, but isn’t being able to do lives something common/natural? Shouldn’t it be the norm? H: Last year around this time, it was the event at Minatomirai, you looked happy with the idea of staying at home…. T: Even now I’m comfortable with that idea…. *they both laugh* I’m pleased with being at home… H: Are you basically mostly at home? Do you like that? T: No, that’s not the case. Somehow, I wonder if I prefer to be at home and have a fun private life….I wonder if I like being at home to have that fun private life…. H: I’m not sure of what the fans think about this but for me, among the five members, the person whose private life is the most mysterious is yours. Things like “in what position does he watch television?” …. T: *Laughs* I see… H: Or “What kind of clothes does he wear when he goes to sleep?”….I can imagine that about the other members but I don’t feel that your daily life is the one I can’t imagine the most.... T: Well, it’s a normal one, just that…..if you all are interested…. H: I’m interested! T: Things I did or say are quite uninteresting but there are many….that are easy to be used to make conversation…. H: I want to make conversation…. T: It’s ok, I’m grateful *laughs* H: Then it’s not like you don’t go out so much…. T: Of course, I have a very normal daily life…. H: Especially now because of Corona…. T: But I go often want to go out for a walk…. H: *surprised* Eh? for a walk? Do you go for a walk like this?*points at him* T: *drinks water* Mmm, well I go for a walk…. H: Don’t you stand out? T: No, not much.  Like no one speaks to me… H: Relatively, you don’t have the feeling of that (of standing out) …. T: *Laughs* There is no sign of that…. H: What are you saying? *laughs* … You don’t feel like that at all….you go on a normal walk… T: I do….

H: Do you have any specific timing in which you feel like walking? T: When it’s still cold in the morning…. recently in the evening… ---- H: I see…. It seems that you spent a lot of time working in a room but with that feeling, I think we should talk about the release we are commemorating today.  This song was one of the many you were doing at that time, right? For you, this song looked as it was going to be selected as a single for sure, you said it yourself… T: That’s right. It's a bit ballad-like and I thought that kind of song hasn’t been released as a single recently. In that sense, it felt really nice to listen and after all, we got asked by the company to make a song that was easy to listen to….it seemed like even if it didn’t become single, it would be a song that would be included in the album… H: You were thinking about this song as a part of the next album…. T: When we decided to make a single of this song….of course I thought there was no problem at all with it being a single but, still saving it for the album would had been a nice “hook” for the album…. H: Maybe the direction of the next album would still be more unclear if this song were kept for it? T: Still, I think it would be ok to just change if we needed to. Nowadays we still don’t know about the direction of the next album though.

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep 58 - [NSFW] The truth behind the DIR EN GERY misprint, and a mysterious voice...

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, with this week's episode of the Freedom of Expression. Joe, Tasai, welcome...Um..

T: Ah!

J: What is it?

T: No way!

K: Its 'Young Jump'

J: Ah, Young Jump.

K: I think you already know about this, but we put an ad on it like this *shows back page*.

J: Oh, looks great!

T: Yeah, it does. Very impactful.

K: Its good, isn't it?

T: Yeah, great impact.

K: There's something a bit odd about it.

J: Haha

T: Huh? Where?

J: Eh? Something odd?

K: Yeah, its a bit strange. There's a bit of a mistake.

J: Is the kanji for Oboro correct?

K: Yeh, and this is right, about the release on the 28th of April.

J: And Wenesday is correct, right?

K: Yeah, and the explosion screening schedule is ok.

T: Yeah, it is.

K: The ticket price info is also all fine.

J: Yep.

K: After that there's only this bottom section.

J:Yeah.

T: DIR EN...

T, J: GERY, haha.

J: Has a new band formed?

K: We screwed up.

J, T: Hahaha

K: Its hard to believe, right?

J: Incredible. I did not expect this..Dir en gery.

T: I thought it was like a trick or something.

J: Oh, to make it go viral or..?

T: Yeah, going with Dir en gery.

J: Kaoru, what was it?

T: We'll find out about it here.

K: It was a total mistake.

J, T: Hahaha

J: Seriously? Eh? Really?

K: Yeah.

T: Does that mean it was done on a hurry, if its a seroius mistake?

K: Yeah, I guess so.

J: Well, Tasai, you work for a newspaper, and I also work for Rolling Stone, so we understand this, but our work is handed in for checking, you know, proof-reading. And they do spot mistakes, but honestly, I have never seen mistake of this size before.

T: Yeh. This is at the level of 'accident'. However, there is a case for saying that we cannot attack this. What I mean by that is that we too make mistakes.

J: Yes, thats true. There is that. Well, this goes for magazines etc too, but if you do proof-reading within the organization, for example, if the writer writes an article, the editor will proof-read it, and they may intend to, but if everyone is really busy with loads of other work, they will run out of time. Then they will get it checked by an external proof-reader. Even then there are sometimes still typos left over.

T: Yeah, there are.

J: There are, right? Human error happens.

T: Yeah, like if I misspell a name or something, I can correct it on the digital version, but on paper it appears on every copy out there.

J: Yeah..

K: But like this?!

J: Yeah, we say this, but we've never seen a typo this bad. Like, I've mistaken small details in names and stuff before.

K: Yeah, like Young Jump becoming Young JumP, right?

J, T: Yeh, haha.

K: Not like this! *points to 'GERY'*

J: Haha, this is...

*Sound of strange voice occurs in background - On screen text: 'What was that voice?! One more time.. (Clip of strange voice re-plays) No-one during the filming heard this. Its a mystery voice'*

J: Tell us what happened?

T: Yeah, lets ask.

K: Um, we had the design made, and the designer made the regular logo and put it down here in this fixed spot, so it looked as if the logo was done, even though there was a mistake in it. At the time, I wasn't looking at the band name, I was looking at the overall design, and ths impact it had. Like this image of Kyo from RokumaykanGIG. My eyes were drawn to the best parts of the design. It wasn't really designed to emphasize the band name. Its designed to showcase this top part, so I, like, didn't see it. Die didn't even see it, and he normally checks these really carefully. Even if we miss something, he normally spots it straight away. 

J: Ah, even Die didn't notice it! ???*1

K: Yeah. We were too busy checking that there were no mistakes in the tour schedule.

J: Yeah.

K: But the information is all correct, so if its just the band name with a mistake, well, maybe its ok.

T: This could become a really rare item in time to come.

J: Yeah, cause there isn't gonna be a misspelling with Dir en grey again after this. That point will be strengthened.

K: Not for a while yeah. A long time ago, we had a single out called 'Filth', and there was a mistake in the title of the song on the cover jacket.

T: Eh? So this is the second time this has happened to you?

K: Well...yeh.

T: Hahaha

K: Well, we occasionally make small mistakes *2, but...

T: This is big.

J: Can I suggest something? Good things come in threes.

K: Ah, terrible.

J: So there will be a third time to come, imagine it, it could be both the title and the band name with a mistake.

T: Hahaha

K: Well, what can I do about it now? If you buy the single 'Filth' even now, its still like that. So filth is spelled f-i-l-h..huh? h-f...um, it's..

T: ..t-h

K: f-i-l-t-h, but the i became f, I mean h. So because there were two h's I realised the mistake. If there really is only one h, it could be that they just made the letters look in that style, but they look the same to me.

T: Ehh? I want to line Filth up next to this magazine.

J: Yeah

J, K: Hahaha

T: Don't you have it here? Filth?

K: We do.

T: Lets put them out together!

K: When I saw this (*Young Jump*) though, well, I thought it was quite rare*3, it could become a talking point. If you take a bad thing in a smooth way, someone will notice, so I thought we could just go with it.

J: Brilliant!

K: And then I posted on Twitter, like 'Ooops'. And that was a photo of the actual magazine, so it really was like 'ooops'.

T: As soon as I saw your Tweet, I was like 'Huh?!' and I went to the convenience store and bought it. haha

J: Well, in that sense it is a rare item

T: Can we decide on the correct reading for this? How would you say it?

K: Ge-ri?

J: Dir en gery (ge-ri).

K: jeri? geri?

J: geri? jeri?

T: gari?

J: Its geri, right? Well, jeri is like..

K: In the basic form its geri, right?

J: Yeah. jeri might have to be 'Gerry' with two r's.  Which is best Dir en jeri or Dir en geri?

T: Should we decide? Even though it doesn't really matter.

J: Yeah

J: Dir en geri sounds like a struggling country rock artist or something, haha. Dir en jeri has jellyfish vibes.

T: The official name: Dir en Gery (jeri). haha.

J: I want you guys to do a joke live show as Dir en gery. You could switch parts, like Kaoru, you could be on drums.

K: Ah, but we did kinda do that once, we changed parts on stage. I just made a load of noise.

J: Ahh, so you could do that as Dir en gery somewhere officially and play one song.

T: Ahh, thats a good idea.

J: Do a cover or something.

T: You could do ???*4

K: Er, no. haha.

J: Haha, this will getting bigger and bigger.

T: But I heard recently at the MeguroRokumaykanGIG screening, Kyo said  that Toshiya used to play guitar a long time ago.

K: He was playing guitar the first time we saw him playing in a band...well, I don't know if he was playing it, or just waving it around a lot.

T: Yeah, Kyo said the stage was going wild.

K: Yeah, he wasn't playing.

J: So, when you guys switched instruments on stage, what did you do Kaoru?

K: Drums.

J: Oh, drums?

K: Thats the one I wanna try out the most.

J: So if you guys played as Dir en gery, Kaoru, you would be..?

T: Drums?

K:...Nah....*imitates playing the castanets*

J: Tambourine? Oh, castanets? So, it doesn't necessarily have to be the same instruments you play at the moment?

K: Yeah. As long as we play as a proper band.

J: Yeah, so Kyo could play the recorder..

T: Someone could hit the ???*5

J: Yeah, yeah. Oh, that would be good.

*The single Filth gets passed over*

K: I'll just get it out.

*K shows cover jacket to J*

J: Oh, here, right?

K: Can you see, there are two h's.

J: Yes. I see.

*K shows it to T*

J: The first h is a typo?

K: Yeah.

T: Its a bit difficult to spot though.

K: We didn't even notice, we thought it was just the design.

J: Yeah. Put them together now.

*K puts magazine and CD together*

J, T: Hahaha

K: By the way, it was the same person who designed both of these.

J, T: Haha

K: When he saw it he was so pained.

T: Its ok, ???*6

J: Ahh, well, it can't be helped though.

*On screen note: Again? (weird voice appears)*

J: Even if there is a spelling mistake, its conveying the atmosphere that is the main thing.

K: Yeah, thats the emphasis.

J: But on the other hand, you could say that as soon as 'Dir' appears, people recognise it as Dir en grey, even with this kind of misspelling. The name is that well know.

T: Hmm, yeh

K: Hm, well, yeh, if you look at it up to here. But for us, its impossible.

J: Well, I guess yeah. It goes for Rolling Stones too. For example, if the last n in Rolling Stones became an m, you wouldn't immediately spot it. If it came up all of a sudden, you would just think 'Ah, the Stones'. It's that kind of name recognition. You could see it in that way. But I didn't know it was the same designer who did it both times.

K: Our boss was pretty mad about it.

J, T: Hahaha

J: Really? I see.

K: He couldn't believe it.

J: Well, yeah. Its also the most important part.

T: Well, yeah, and cause its already in circulation.

J: Yeah. Well, everyone can keep it as a treasure.

K: Where's Kami?

J: Yeah, isn't he here?

Kami: Oh, Im here, I was just listening the whole time. People make mistakes, right?

T: They do.

Kami: This is just a mistake. So its wrong to point blame.

T, J: Yes.

J: Kami, have you made a mistake recently or something?

Kami: Im always making mistakes, and always getting into trouble.

J, T: Haha

Kami: As soon as you've made a mistake, it hurts, right?

T: Yeah, I know that feeling.

Kami: Yeah.

J: Yeah, the person who made the mistake knows it, you don't have to tell them.

T: Yeah, that hurts the most.

Kami: I bet if you made a mistake like this though, you'd get into big trouble.

T, K: Haha

Kami: I think you really would.

T: Well, heh, yeah. But if even Die overlooked this..its like a demon interferred..

J: Yeah, unbelievable.

K: But, anyway, Im taking it in a good way. Well, I mean, it's not good to take just any old thing in a positive way, but....its a bit like those remarks by Mori that we discussed recently.

J: Oh yeah.

K: Like how to move on with it.

J: Yeah, we can learn from that.

K: Yeah.

*Sound cuts out. On screen note: Suddenly, we were unable to record to voices. Was it linked to that sound we heard earlier?*

K: Um, the sound..

J: It seems as if the sound went off.

T: I wonder whether its to do with what we just talked about?

K: What, like, 'Stop this conversation?'

J: Haha, like from ths designer's perspective...'Please stop it!'

T: Haha, yeah, 'Please!'

J: So, what about the Oboro single?

K: So, we're at the last stage, just the mastering, and a little more discussion, and we're about finished. And then the packaging. Well, there's just a little bit longer till the 28th, about another month.

J: Well, Im looking forward to it.

K: Ok, lets finish here for this week. Thank you.

*On screen note: The voice that no-one, including the staff, heard during recording was recorded into the mic data.*

*1,4,5,6 Couldn't catch

*2, 3 Not entirely sure

To top

[shirophic]

relationship alphabet with fuyuhiko kuzuryu

here are some relationship headcanons with fuyuhiko kuzuryu for @iateyourdoggo-part2​ ! enjoy! (2/3)

tw: gn reader, 

A nnual - what’s something they and their s/o do together every year?

You two have a day where you both buy each other 5 to 10 things you think the other will like, and then after that whatever you guys want to! But you both have to be free on this day!

-

B ashful - are they shy in the relationship?

Most people would expect the bold and young yakuza to be the fierce one, but in reality he’s just a little softie. In public he doesn’t talk much - keeping a stern face and standing by your side. But in private he’s much more different. If he’s not busy he’ll slightly demand ask for cuddles. And once you get started theres no end to it! He’s shy in private but tries to keep a bold stance in public - proud yakuza things

-

C aptivating - what catches their interest in their s/o?

His interest started when you kept trying to speak and communicate with him. He’s only ever had peko, so he doesn’t expect anyone to try and be his friend. He’ll constantly deny hanging out with you until it’s been a while and he gives in. Reluctantly, he began to enjoy your presence and sometimes even asked to spend time with you! 

-

D omestic - do they plan to settle down/start a family?

He never really gave any thoughts to it, but I think he would. Maybe a kid or two, after he’s retired from his yakuza state. Most people, again, thinks he’s some apathetic guy - and again, that's not true. So yea, maybe he would but he never really gave any thoughts to it.

-

E mpathetic - do they understand their s/o well? are they good with emotions?

He would have a rough time understanding unless you tell him your feelings directly. Some obvious movements he can tell what’s up - some others he cant. He also has a hard time saying his own feelings, he definitely tries to practice communicating with peko

-

F ight - are they willing to forgive their s/o after a fight? if so, how? (slowly, quickly, etc.)

Well if you two ever fight, he’ll always be the first to apologize. It’ll take some time,  so he’ll apologize but slowly. He’s very stubborn, it’s basically canon ASJFJDF. But he’ll probably go up to you and apologize, he’ll probably blush though. Very very tsundere like.

-

G ift - do they spoil their s/o? if so, what kind of gifts do they give?

He definitely does! His wealth is very high, so if you ever want something, it’s at your door! Like that new merch that just dropped? At your door. You mentioned how you’re too broke to get any manga/books/movies? He bought all the editions. Etc. etc. 

-

H onesty - are they honest in the relationship? do they keep secrets? if they do, do they plan telling their s/o at a point?

He is honest, but he keeps some secrets to himself. He does plan to tell you, don’t worry, it's just that it's hard for him to communicate like I said before. Definitely more far into your relationship, even though its risky.

-

I nspiration - does their s/o inspire them? did their s/o help them over some obstacles?

Yes! You definitely did. You probably helped him soften up more and let his emotions flow. Thanks to you, he’s definitely relieved of some of his problems. As for obstacles, you helped him with anything he needed help with along with peko. You and peko are like his cheerleaders!

-

J ealous - do they get jealous? if so, how easily? what are their actions when jealous?

Yep, he does. Pretty easily, but he has his trust put into you as you two grow your relationship. He’ll make up some excuse and then as you two turn around he’ll glare at the person. Of course, you’ll have to communicate with him and explain yourself.

-

K iss - who initiates the first kiss?

You, definitely you. He’d be way to shy to do it, maybe he’ll ponder on it but he’s to shy to make a move. After the kiss he’ll blush and stutter a bit, but after it becomes a regular thing for you two, he’ll initiate the kisses.

-

L ove - who tells the other “I love you” first?

Again, you. It’s also likely he’ll blurt it out accidentally. Whichever you prefer ig. He’ll be in shock no matter which scenario, and probably will try and deny it a bit.

-

M arriage - do they plan to propose? if so, how and when?

Maybe, making your relationship official wasn’t a thought on his head. You were his boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other, he thought they’d already made it clear? But marriage would be nice, going along with settling down with a family.

-

N icknames - do they have pet names for their s/o?

when he’s comfortable, he’ll call you stuff like “dear” and “love”. But he’ll be a bit hesitant and will ask you weather you’re okay with it or not.

-

O bservant - do they observe their s/o often? what do they do if their s/o is happy/sad/angry/scared/etc.?

He does observe you often. He’ll notice some things like little changes in your attitude and actions. When he sees you happy he’ll slightly smile (if you two aren’t in public, and or if no one was watching)

when you’re sad, he’ll quietly come up to you with whats going on. If it was something/someone he’ll send his gang to them. If it was something like work/social media/etc. He’ll give you some cuddles and reassurance (if you’re comfortable with it), and if you’re not he’ll give you your space.

when you’re mad, he wont interfere, since he can get mad easily as well. After you’re calm again, everything would go back to normal as if nothing happened.

when you’re scared he’ll reassure you nothing bad was gonna happen and that he’d always be at your side. He’ll try and cheer you up with things you like/things that can make you happy.

-

P layful - are they playful? if so, do they pull pranks?

He’s not that playful, but he’ll tease you a bit. For example: if you fall he’ll snicker slightly before helping you up, and reminding you to be careful.

-

Q uaint - what’s something their s/o got them that makes them feel happy?

Well, for one, he’ll be happy with anything you get him, especially if it's something he’s wanted for a while. Due to him being rich, he could buy anything he wanted. But it’ll mean a lot more when from you, even if it was a little lopsided. 

-

R emembrance - what was their favorite memory with their s/o?

It would probably when you two had your first kiss. The kiss was a bit awkward but it was both of yours’ first kisses. After the kiss you two had cuddled and made your relationship official with each other. 

-

S ober - what would they say when drunk but not sober?

“Hey s/o, you dooo know that you mean the world to me riight? Like i cant even explaain how much you do. Your face is really pretty and you’re really kind! You’re amaazing!”

-

T idy - are they the messy one or the clean one in the relationship?

He is the clean one! Unless you’re also clean, he is definitely the clean one. Messy work spaces distract him and bother him. 

-

U pset - do they get upset easily?

He does, but not with you unless its something major. Like if his coffee machine wasn’t working, he’ll probably try numerous ways to get his coffee but none of them seem to be working - so he took the easy way out and shaked it vigorously. Yep 

-

V aluable - how valuable is their s/o and relationship to them?

Precious. Very very precious. Ever since you stepped into his life he sworn to not let anything bad happen to you. And if anything did, he’d think he’d be the one at fault for not protecting you and his and yours relationship. 

-

W ild card - any hc or scenerio! (up to the author)

Whenever you two cuddle, he’s always the little spoon! Unless you’d prefer being the little spoon, he is! He likes it because it makes him feel safe and protected that way, instead of the other way around.

-

X enolaila - do they have a special way of communicating with their s/o? language, gestures, etc?

You guys have a special way of communicating with your eyes! Whenever you/fuyuhiko needs help or is uncomfortable or just any feeling, theres always a special look in both of yours’ eyes.

-

Y earn - how far are they willing to go for their s/o and their relationship?

Very far, he’ll go to far, far (but reasonable) lengths for it. But unless you want to quit this relationship, he will very much die for you to keep you safe.

-

Z en - what is their s/o and their favorite place/time to relax together?

Whenever he’s done with work he loves to either cuddle/do something fun with you! He can’t catch a break with his duties, but for you he’ll try to make time for! His favorite is when trying to bake with you, that either causes the house burning down or you two actually getting the hang of it

[sothischickshe]

TV Show Ask Game - 3, 12, 42

Ty!

3. have you ever quit a show before it finished? why?

Yea! But not that frequently... Like I've seen EVERY ep of glee, spn, bones, castle, tvd/originals, house, true blood, pll, empire, got, suits, nashville, the marvel netflix-verse... I'm not great at quitting shows, especially once I've invested a fair chunk of time in them (so I can be a bit fussy about what I start watching as a result).

I quit watching American gods after the second season cos that season was rubbish, and what behind the scenes stuff I heard about it didnt help its case.

I only ever got a few eps into once upon a time and I found it eye rollingly annoying and just couldn't push through to watch more. Ditto the it crowd...

I've only ever seen the very first ep of American horror story and it was RUBBISH!!!!! everyone said it got better after the pilot but ???!!!??? That was so shit, I couldn't in good conscience put myself through more. (also I'm not a huge horror fan/don't enjoy being scared, & Ryan Murphy has wronged me many a time.)

I had to stop watching chuck! I don't actually remember how far I got but I had a friend who kept telling me I'd like it and I kept trying to push through but I found elements of it v unpleasant, and the retconning annoying, and Sarah and chuck's relationship charmless, and Yvonne's American accent distractingly bad.

I've never seen the final season of roswell/High nor the penultimate season's finale I think, cos the BBC just didn't show it 😂 that one wasn't my fault ha but I think pre downloading era it was harder to commit to shows properly but also we had a much more limited selection! So there are shows like charmed or nip/tuck or desperate housewives or frasier or the l word which I was watching on real teevee as they aired & sorta accidentally quit but also don't have a huge desire to properly watch?

I quit girls pretty early on, largely bc I found the characters en masse SO unlikeable, BUT same friend who tried to convince me to keep watching chuck, convinced me to watch all of girls aaaages later & I do think she was right that it's an easier watch when you're not so close in age to the characters/can just go 'wow yea I hate young ppl' the whole time, BUT I found the tone of it overall & especially the ending SO bleak 🤯

I tried so hard to push through to keep watching 2 broke girls for kat but the laugh track and the lazy set up->offensive joke pipeline broke me

I stopped watching grey's pretty early on. It was already kind of annoying me and then... I feel like christina ricci had a bomb in her butt or something...? Did that happen...? And I was just like nope, this is TOO dumb and melodramatic, I've hit my quota, I can handle no more!!!!

I quit homeland pretty early too, although not as early as I would've liked. The cliffhangery ep endings kept hooking me, but also that in itself pissed me off!!! I don't like it when shows use that to keep you watching.... How about make your long eps actually engaging rather than rely on the last 2 mins to trick me into watching another?! I get VERY burnt out by loads of twists & turns 💤

12. have you ever watched a show just for a specific actor? did you enjoy it?

i watched the pilot ep of animal practice bc i thought i was the kind of person who would watch justin kirk in A N Y T H I N G....................turns out i was wrong!

42. what’s the longest amount of time you’ve ever watched a show in one sitting?

Ooh! so i remember when s4 of arrested development came out, me and a friend were really excited (still not sure why, cos neither of us liked s3 that much, or maybe that WAS why) and we made a plan to watch the whole season together the day it came out. i thiiiiink we did make it the whole way through? although by abt 2/3 of the way we’d achieved extreme grumpiness lol

the tv set

[olivia200312]

The Surprise~ TFP! Optimus x Human! Reader (Lemon)

Plot: Optimus told Y/N through the letter that he had a surprise for her at the cliff in the forest. He confess his love feelings adn later they do "it" in his truck ;)

Optimus will be in his bipedal (or mini) form. Which it means that he's close to the human reader's height.

Head area:

Brain: Processor / Brain Module

Head: Helm

Face: Face plate

Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials

Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor

Eye brow: Optical Ridge

Eyes: Optics

Mouth: Intake

Lips: Dermas

Teeth: Denta/Dentas

Tongue: Glossa

Chest area:

Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity

Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula

Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut

Chest and back armour:

Chest plate

Back plate

Mid-section plating

Neck guard

Side plating

Arm area:

Arms: Arms / Restarlueus

Forearms: Bitarlueus

Hands: Servos

Fingers: Digits

Arm armour:

Gantlets

Shoulder pads

Arm guard

Lower area:

Pelvis: Pelvis

Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate

Thighs: Tibulen

Calves: Cadulen

Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.

Lower armour:

Skirt plates

Aft plate / Skid plate

Thigh guard

Ankle guard

General/Internal components:

Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question.

Veins: Fual lines

Stomach: Tanks

Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating.

Heart: Spark

Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark

T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.

Bonus:

Penis: Spike

Vagina: Valve

Body: Frame

Note: the art goes to the owner!

---------------------------------

Y/N was walking towards her room in the Autobots base. She actually lived there, because the Decepticons destroyed her house after she caught the fight between an Autobot and an Decepticon. But what if I told you that it were leaders who were fighting? Yes, the leader of the Autobots, Optimus Prime, was fighting against somebot who he considered as his brother. It was Megatron himself, the leader of the Decepticons. The Autobots were good ones while the Decepticons were the bad ones. Y/N regonised immediatly who were good and bad ones. You can see it in the optics color and actions they do. 

Megatron even almost kidnapped Y/N since she saw them, but Optimus didn't let that happen. He saved her life. And in return, Megatron destroyed Y/N's place. Optimus, being a gentlebot he can be, offered her to live at the base. Y/N accepted the offer. Optimus explained everything to her that he was an Cybertronian from the planet Cybertron, that he was in planet Earth to protect humans from the Decepticons and other stuff. Y/N was in fact interested. Optimus asked her different stuff to get to know her and she gladly responded. 

Optimus introduced Y/N to the team Prime. There were Ratchet, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Arcee, Ultra Magnus and there were humans too named: Miko, Jack and Raf. Y/N was quite shy at first, but she warmed up to all of them. Somebots needed time to warm up to her. 

Miko was the first one to befriend Y/N fast. She was especially happy that she wasn't the only female human in the team. Arcee was in fact a femme too, but she was an young warrior from Cybertron. Miko asked Y/N a lot of questions. You know, like: "Do you like heavy metal?" "How much do you weight?" "How old are you?" and other stuff.

Raf had to stop Miko from talking and told her to give Y/N time to breath. He was such a cute guy that you can call a brother. He was smart in computeres that you can ask him for help if you had any problems of your computer. He would gladly fix it for you. 

Jack was the oldest human. Well, as a kid. Jack warmed up to Y/N and sees her as a good friend that he can trust. Y/N felt sorry once she heard that Jack, Miko and Raf were being bullied by a guy called Vince. That guy thinks that bullying was fun! Well, it's not! Y/N was only (age) years old and still, she gave Vince an actual punch on the face! Miko was very amazed since she's quite energetic. She almost finds everything cool. Raf was glad to have a new friend that can be stronger then Vince. Optimus was in fact amazed when he saw how Y/N strong was.

Now let's go to the bots:

There was a grumpy medic named Ratchet. He was annoyed to see another human at the base since he said that 3 were enough. It took him a lot of time to warm up to Y/N. He liked her as a friend. Y/N would help sometimes Ratchet. He sure was a busy one being a medic and all. He even fixes things or builds things like for an example: he build projects for Miko, Jack and Raf.

Arcee was the only femme bot of the team and a young warrior. She's in fact the smallest of the bots. She can transform into a blue motorcycle. She was accidentally spotted by Jack that Optimus asked her to bring him to the base. Arcee was then caught by Miko, because she followed Arcee that was in her motorcycle form. Arcee liked Y/N and she would talk sometimes to Y/N. She was also Jack's guardian.

Bulkhead liked Y/N. He was Miko's guardian since Miko spoke to Bulkhead first. He was surprised by Miko's sudden questions that he couldn't respone. Bulkhead was also very nice to Y/N.

Ultra Magnus can be rude sometimes. Heck, he was not nice when he met Y/N. But in return, Y/N was feisty and stood up for herself before Optimus made a move to stand up for Y/N. Magnus was surprised and learned fast to not mess with her. At least he warmed up to Y/N like a week later. 

Bumblebee or just Bee was such a nice scout! He was Raf's guardian. He sadly couldn't speak due his voice box (or pipes) being destroyed. Bee was so nice to Y/N. Raf can even understand Bee good which was very special. 

Finally we have Optimus himself. He was the tallest of the team. Primes are like always the tallest of the teams. Optimus was in fact very close to Megatron's height. When Optimus lived in Cybertron, he was a clerk named Orion Pax. Very unique name, right? He became concered after he learned more about Cybertron. He was Megatronus' best friend. He supported him and even was like a mentor to him by saying strong and helpful words. Like Master Splinter to the turtles. He decided to be Y/N's guardian since he took her to the base and he was the first Autobot to be seen. Optimus was one of the most kindest en gentlebots that Y/N ever met.

Anyway, Y/N entered her bedroom and she saw a letter on her bed. She walked up to her bed and grabbed the letter. It read:

Dear, Y/N,

Meet me at the cliff in the forest tonight. I have a surprise for you.

From Optimus.

Ok, Y/N was surprised and shocked. She loved surprises, especially from Optimus. She was shocked that it was from Optimus. How in earth did he get in her room? He was like 30 feet tall (I think) while Y/N was (number) feet tall. Did Optimus asked Raf, Miko or Jack to place the letter on her bed? Definetly not Miko, because she would tell Y/N immediatly that Optimus had a crush on her. Yes, the Prime had a crush on her. He couldn't help but admire her beauty and her personality. But what the Prime doesn't know was that Y/N was in love with him as well.

"What is Optimus planning?" Y/N asked to herself.

Let's just say that Ratchet made something and told Optimus about it. Then the Prime had an idea and asked Ratchet to turn him into a bipedal form. Bipedal forms make the bots smaller, close to normal human's height. Once Ratchet got the truth why, he agreed since he did noticed how Optimus would stare at Y/N in secret.

When the night came, everyone were sleeping, except Optimus and Y/N. The Prime was waiting on his human crush with the big surprise. 

Y/N was now walking towards the cliff in the forest. It was close located in the base so it was ok. Once Y/N reached the cliff, she was shocked to see how beautiful the sky was. It was covered with stars. There were no lights in the forest so the sky was clear. 

"It's so beautiful," Y/N said in awe.

"That's true, Y/N," said a familiar deep voice. 

Y/N gasped in surprise and turned around to see Optimus, except... he's smaller! Close to Y/N's height! He had a soft gentle smile on his face plate. Y/N was stunned. How? How was this possible?

"H-How?"

Optimus chuckled and walked up to her until he's infront of her. "Ratchet showed me a new project that he finished. When he was done explaining, I had an idea and I asked him to turn me in a bipedal form."

 "F-Fair enough." Y/N was still stunned. 

Optimus smiled still and cupped Y/N's cheek with his servo. He was doing it gently since her skin was so soft and he's metal. He sees Y/N blushing from the touch contact. "Y/N, I have a confession to make," Optimus began. "Ever since I know you more, I fell in love with you. I love everything about you."

Y/N couldn't believe what she heard. Optimus actually loved her a lot! Y/N's dream was coming true! "O-Optimus, I... I feel t-the same." She smiled shyly.

Optimus was now very happy. His crush felt the same. His other servo cupped her other cheek so he's now cupping her both cheeks and is stroking them. Y/N placed her hands on top of his servos, making contact with them. 

Optimus then leaned in and pressed his dermas against her soft lips. Yes, he was kissing her. Y/N kissed him back, feeling so loved by Optimus. The gentle kiss turned heated and Y/N's arms moved around his neck while she felt Optimus' servos very close to her ass. Looks like the Prime was getting turned on~

Optimus licked Y/N's bottem lip, asking to go inside. His glossa felt almost like human. Y/N granted his wish and she felt his glossa make contact with her tongue. It felt so nice and pleasurable that Y/N moaned into th kiss. Optimus felt pleasure too and didn't want to stop. He felt then something thay he hadn't felt in a long time. Heat. He dated once a femme warrior called Elita-One. Yes, they did kissed and made out a few times, but never did "it" before. Y/N felt a lot different then Elita. 

Y/N's ass was then squeezed gently and she moaned. Optimus had a naughty side that he only showed when he felt pleasure with his sparkmate. 

That's when Optimus pulled away from the kiss, his servos still on her ass. "Want to coninue this is my truck?" His optics were full of lust.

Wait, Optimus' truck was here? But where? Looks like Optimus hid his truck somewhere near by. 

"Yes, please. I want you, Prime." Y/N's voice was husky and seductive since she's turned on and wet. It was impossible to get rid with it by yourself. It's quite hard. 

Optimus picked Y/N up bridal style, still having lust in his optics. Y/N wrapped er arms around his neck as the Prime walked towards his truck. He then opened his truck door in his way, even though he's holding his human sparkmate. He had his ways. The Prime then layed Y/N down on the seat and closed the truck behind him. He even locked it! 

Optimis climbed on top of her and smashed his dermas against her lips, not too hard since she's human. The kiss got immediatly heated and they made out again. Optimus' servos were next to her head to support him. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and stroked the back of his helm, causing him to purr.

After 3 minutes of making out, Optimus moved his head towards her neck and started to leave soft kisses. He was so gentle.

Y/N sighed in pleasure and once she felt her sweetspot, she gasped and moaned a bit. "O-Optimus, a-ah!~"

Optimus purred and and starts to nibble the spot. He licked, sucked and even bit with his dentas. Y/N moaned while stroking the back of his helm. Optimus continued to abuse the spot, until he's sure that there would be a hickey left.

He then took Y/N's shirt and threw it on the floor next to the seat. He couldn't help but stare. "Beautiful..."

Y/N blushed.

Optimus then tried to remove her F/C color bra, but couldn't figure out how. Y/N giggled and helped him. After the bra was on floor too, Optimus used one of his servos to gently grabbed one of Y/N's boobs and he then leaned down towards her nipple. He then grabbed the nipple into his mouth and started to suck while he massaged the other boob. 

Y/N moaned while stroking his helm. Her nipples were hard. She watched how Optimus switched and gave other nipple attention too while he massaged other. After a minute passed by, Optimus moved down and pulled her pants and panties off. He threw them on the floor. He then looked at her fully, from head to toe. Once Optimus made eye contact with Y/N, he smiled lovely at her.

"Will you let me continue, sweetspark?"

Y/N nodds. "Yes, please, Optimus. I want you." She's feeling horny and she wanted her Cybertronian boyfriend now.

Optimus then let his spike come out. It looked a lot like from male humans, but a tiny bit different. It was hard and it looked like to be beging to go into Y/N's wet pussy. Oh, and did I forgot to metion that Optimus' spike was huge?

Y/N looked a bit nervous. Was it going to fit? She then felt Optimus' member enter her, ripping her walls since she was a virgin. It caused her to gasp in surprise. It was painful that tears build up in her eyes. Optimus was going slow and gently since he doesn't want to hurt her badly. He whispered sweet words into her ear to make her relax.

Once Optimus was fully in , he waits in patience. What a gentlebot. Since it can take a while for the pain, to go away, Optimus looked lovely into Y/N's eyes. He had his own tricks to make the time go faster. Y/N was lost in his optics. She didn't realised that the time was going fast and the pain was away. She felt pleasure took over her body.

"M-Move."

Optimus nodded and started to move slowly first. He heard Y/N moan softly. Y/N was just in heaven with Optimus. 

"O-Optimus, faster, h-harder, please!" She was begging him and Optimus wasn't gonna lie. He loved it. He gladly granted her wishes and went faster and harder, causing her to scream in pleasure. 

Optimus started to grunt and moan in pleasure too. He felt Y/N wrapped her bare legs around his waist. It gave him a better acces to go deeper and he did go deeper. Y/N wrapped her arms around his back and let's just say that the pleasure was so pure that she was scratching his paint. 

Then Y/N felt Optimus hit her g-spot. "O-Optimus, right t-there!~"

Optimus then slammed into her g-spot again and again. 

"Ahhhh!~"

Then Optimus sat up, pulling Y/N on his lap. His member was still inside her and Y/N started to rise him. Optimus moaned. The new couple were actually looking into eachother eyes lovely. They're lost with pure pleasure. That's when they kissed eachother roughly while having sex in Optimus' truck. They moaned loud and they're alone so it was good. There were even no Decepticons around. Optimus' servo was squeezing her ass while his other servo was behind her head. Y/N's arms were around his neck.

They continued to have sex for almost 2 minutes, until...

"O-Optimus, I'm c-cumming!"

"Cum for me, sweetspark."

They were looking at eachother lovely and that's when Y/N came. Optimus came afterwards, shooting his warm seed inside her that Y/N felt it in her woomb as well. They both panted. Y/N was in fact tired and felt sleepy. Optimus gently lifted her up so that he can pull out and he layed down on the seat, causing Y/N to lay on top of him his frame.

"T-That was amazing," Y/N panted with a tired smile.

Optimus smiled lovely at her. "It was, sweetspark." His servo cupped her cheek. "We should recharge here. Don't worry, the others know that we are away."

Y/N nodded and snuggled into him. Optimus covered Y/N up with a blanket that he's keeping in his truck. He watched Y/N sleep with a smile. He finds her adorable. He then went to recharge since he's tired too. He held Y/N protectively in his arms.

First smut in this book. Hope you like it ;)

[fireflier]

the most important bits from it u need to understand this are ranboo, me, and maybe tommy? maybe george & sap but a lot of this isnt stuff thats stated to be canon or anything lol

uhhh i was always on the hard roster, like tommy was always on the easy roster - me and toms had a little rivalry bc of it! he was kinda jealous that i was always on the hard roster when he was on the easy one, and i made fun of that a lot but it was 100% shits and giggles

i met ranboo in his makeshift house once. i think i glared at him (helmet made a confused/angry face) and went "...who are you?" djsjsj

no one else had met him yet, but eventually he became semi-common knowledge bc i introduced him to racing and he started doing it on his own - no one knew i introduced him to it of course but eh

thats when i learned he couldnt race . i learned that bc i think i did a practice race with him? to teach him. he almost finished the race, but i got frozen in the starting spot bc it wasnt supposed to happen and he only circled back when he realized i wasnt coming after him

we were friends before phil stepped down, and when i took up leadership i finally got a grip on the damage he was doing to the races. until then i'd been ignoring it bc i mean . i also wasnt supposed to be there so it would be kind of dickish to give him shit for it lol. we were close, so i didnt hate him, but he was still a threat so i tried to stop him from racing and he was upset by that so we stopped being friends

for context on why exactly he was a threat:

i was from a different game: manhunt. i moved to sugar rush when it was shut down and took george & sap with me. manhunt was made by the same company and gogy & sap had very similar characters in sugar rush as an "easter egg". all i had to do was combine them and make sure they still remembered me

i dont think they remembered manhunt, but they did remember me so it waaaaassss,,,, fine i guess

i really didn't want to do anything harmful or mess up the game . it was very important to me that i didnt lose another game and set of friends and i especially didnt want it to be because i got found out which is why i was so worried about ranboo . if he messed up the game, then all three of us could be thrown out or the game couldve gotten shutdown, ya know?

thats basically it

dw i was skimming the page while you were writing this out so i think i got the necessary bg info now !!

but ahhh man !!!! well it’s nice that you were friends with ranboo for a bit even if you had to stop :( and your dynamic with tommy seems nice !! that’s super interesting that you were originally from a whole nother game and managed to take people with you when it shut down !! and it’s completely understandable to be scared of your game getting shut down again :’) honestly i just hope that everyone works out in the canon comic haH

(also my bad reading comprehension esp with long blocks of text thanks you for the colored text LMAOO)

[dennou-translations]

Kagerou Daze VIII: Chapter 11

Summer Time Record -side No.2 (4)-

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases in Japanese or in English. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

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“Well, then, I’m gonna call.” In a slightly unflattering pose with his tights spread open, Hibiya-kun began sending out his thoughts to Kisaragi-san’s phone.

“He said he can’t concentrate if he doesn’t do this, and that the call wouldn’t connect otherwise.”

As we watched over him for a moment along with Mary’s comment, Hibiya-kun suddenly shouted, “Onii-chan!!” and passed the phone to us.

“Haah... haah... it connected...”

That series of actions from Hibiya-kun, which could be considered weird at first glance, weren’t run-of-the-mill for what he was doing. It seemed that Hibiya-kun’s Focusing had become able to interfere with even phone signals for a short while. By doing that, it became possible for him to directly contact the cellphones of people who were in a place where regular reception couldn’t reach. The Kagerou Daze.

“Really, that guy can think up some absurd stuff. It’s okay since it just happened to come around, but I don’t have much of an explanation for this... I’d been yelling, ‘Onii-chan’ for a week, y’know?”

It appeared that, for the sake of Hibiya-kun, who was not knowledgeable about phones, the intention was to use voice recognition in order to call the address register, but by the looks of it, this had cut off pretty short at Ene-chan’s stage, as she had the role of transmitting it.

“H-He’ll hear it if you talk too much. ‘Cause you’re with him on the line...”

The majority of our members had ended up losing their lives and being swallowed by Kagerou Daze. It honestly didn’t feel real that we were able to communicate with them, who we would never be able to talk to again in normal circumstances.

“Well, we’re gonna talk, right? About what we’ll do from now on. It’s like... what I already said just now.”

“Understood.” And so, I finally took the phone from Hibiya-kun.

Along with the name of the guy on the other side of the line, the talk time of the call was displayed on the screen. Surely, he had predicted that things would turn out like this. That, having been left behind... we, who had survived at the expense of their lives, we would end up hesitating to “choose the future”.

I deliberately looked at Mary.

Taking notice of it, Mary nodded sternly. “It’s okay. Me and Seto are the same. We want to live in tomorrow together with everyone.”

Mary’s gaze was strong and straightforward. I also didn’t falter. I put to my ear the phone from which we were supposed to convey our feelings.

I had tried to forget our friends. There was no worse blasphemy against our comrades, who had fought with their lives at stake. No matter what they would say to blame me, I wasn’t going to complain. Still, upon having perceived all of that, Mary had entrusted to me the role of conveying everything to them.

The answer had already been decided. But would he... would they consent to it...?

“Hello, can you hear us?” fearfully, I opened my mouth.

He had apparently already talked to Mary through this method once. If that was the case, it was him we were talking about. He had probably long found out that I had been trying to forget our friends.

“Seto, that you?”

I tensed up even more at Shintarou-san’s calm voice. Ignoring my racing heart, I stated frankly, “Yes... Shintarou-san, I have to apologize. After that battle, I tried to forget everyone.”

The sounds disappeared. The moment he stayed quiet, which didn’t last for even a whole second, felt bizarrely extensive.

“Haa. You were thinking it was for Mary’s sake or something like that anyway, weren’t you? Then there was no helping it, right?”

“Eh, sorry? No, t-that’s true, but—”

Shintarou-san hadn’t changed much from the time when he was here. He was blunt and curt, but had a better insight of the depths of people’s hearts than anyone else. But I couldn’t keep basking in that kindness of his. What I had done shouldn’t be forgiven so easily. After all, I...

“Well, what are you planning to do? We’re all leaving it to you guys over here.”

“All”?

“Isn’t that right, y’all... Hey!! Wait, wait, don’t push!! We said we’d take turns... Aah! Give it back, you bastard—”

The prattling noises of a large number of people fighting each other reached the receiver. And then...

“H-Hello, Kousuke!? I-It’s your Onee-chan, can you tell!? U-Ueh, I’m so sorry... I came to this place on my own accord...”

“Nee-chan!? Wai—T-That’s too sudden... Erm... Eeh!?”

“Ah, wait! I’ll pass to the next person! Anyway, see you, Kousuke!”

“No, did you steal the phone just to say that!? Hey, Nee-chan!?”

Once more, shouts and groans jumbled up on the other side of the receiver. But all of them were voices I was used to hearing. And yet again, the owner of the voice changed.

“Ah~, Seto? It’s me, Kido. Sorry that I can’t be there with you.”

A husky voice that had been accompanying me during my life. That ever so cool way of talking remained unchanged even while she was on the other side. At her characteristic manner of caring for us even in death, my tone inevitably went down.

“Ki-Kido. I’m sorry. I tried to forget everyo...”

“Wai—No, Nee-san!! You don’t have to talk about my way of speech right now... Eh, I have to say ‘watashi’? Like I said, I’m already used to ‘ore’... Aah, no, no, not that Nee-san...”

“D’aah! Wai—I’m the next! Master, you already talked to him just a bit ago!! Shoo! Shoo!!”

“Kousuke-ku~n!! Do you recognize me? We ate pudding together one time... Ah, that’s right; you have to talk to Shuuya-kun too! He’s embarrassed but I’ll bring him here later...”

“Ahaha, Seto-san, can you hear me~? Please change places with Mary-chan later too, ‘kay~? I wanna talk to her since it’s been a while~.”

“Shut up, you guys!! Back off!! Back off!!”

What’s this?

How should I put it? Perhaps this was the feeling of something like calling your relatives from the countryside on New Year’s. We needed to have a serious talk, but there was no opening for it at all...

“Haah, haah, can you hear me, Seto? It’s Shintarou.”

“Aah! That’s good; I wouldn’t know what to do if it went on like that...”

A sense of exhaustion was completely showing through Shintarou-san’s voice as he changed places with everyone. It seemed he couldn’t handle a hard time even in that world.

“Damn, those guys really don’t listen and that’s a problem. Hey, sorry, Seto. We caused you trouble,” Shintarou-san said, heaving a big sigh. But for some reason, I couldn’t help thinking that this was Shintarou-san’s consideration.

Shintarou-san was the kind of person who understood people’s minds. Didn’t he let me hear everyone’s voices from the other side because he had noticed that I was worrying and hesitating?

“Well... things over here are just like you heard. Nobody’s holding a grudge against you or regretting anything. So tell us your input.” And so, Shintarou-san asked for the last confirmation, “What d’you wanna do about the ‘future’?”

“Seto.”

When I looked at Mary, she was squeezing my hand and her red pair of eyes were directed at me. I squeezed that soft hand back and opened my mouth.

“That’s obvious. About the ‘future’, we...”

[yasbxxgie]

As insurrectionists breached the U.S. Capitol en masse Wednesday afternoon, footage posted on social media shows them doing a lot of different things inside the Capitol. They’re banging on doors, yelling, waving Confederate and MAGA flags, brandishing guns, and posing for pictures in the Big Chair on the Senate floor. Another thing a few of them appear to be doing? Hanging out with the cops who are ostensibly deployed there to keep protesters from doing any of the stuff we just mentioned.

One clip, initially posted to TikTok [Twitter], seems to show police simply stepping aside to passively allow a swarm of people to breach a barrier erected to prevent them from reaching the Capitol.

That’s pretty weird because, as Business Insider journalist Manny Fidel noted on Twitter, law enforcement in D.C. appears capable of keeping people from going places when they feel like it, exemplified by a show of force from this past June. I wonder: What was different then?

Another clip, cut from a livestream, shows a masked man pausing to snag a selfie with a United States Capitol police officer, whose badge number might be visible if you pause the video at the correct time. The cop, lest mine eyes deceive me, actually strikes a little pose when he sees that he’s on camera. Per the New York Times, one police officer told a crowd asking why protesters weren’t being dispersed: “We’ve just got to let them do their thing now.”

In another clip, a cop dressed in riot gear appears to be helping an insurrectionist walk down the stairs of the Capitol—a move that contrasts starkly with the Capitol police officers’ treatment of disabled activists from ADAPT protesting healthcare cuts in 2017.

Huh. Go figure, right? I guess, given the context that law enforcement unions around the country endorsed Donald Trump in the 2020 presidential election, it makes a little more sense. Further considering the reporting that’s been done on the deep-seated connections between American law enforcement agencies and the kind of white supremacist and extremist hate groups who could, I don’t know, break into the U.S. Capitol, a picture emerges of who the cops consider dangerous, and who they consider friendly enough to pose with. It’s not the first time police officers in the U.S. have been caught lending a helping hand to Trump supporters wreaking havoc—footage of officers tossing water bottles out to white militia members in Kenosha, Wisconsin, the night Kyle Rittenhouse shot multiple people, springs to mind.

For now, it’s searingly obvious that the people who stormed the Capitol building did not experience the brutality cops spent all summer enacting on the protesters who took to the streets to fight back against police violence. This is no accident: Statistically speaking, studies have shown cops are more likely to respond with aggression when police brutality is the thing being protested. One study, spanning from 1960 to 1990, showed that police were also more likely to deploy violence at protests led by Black Americans.

That’s not to say there should have been more tear gas or rubber bullets from the U.S. Capitol police force today; that was never going to happen as long as the police themselves have the power to decide who they react to and how, who threatens law and order, and who just needs to blow off a little steam.

It remains to be seen what kind of consequences the people who breached the Capitol building (and interrupted that vaunted Democratic process we all hear so much about) will face. But we already saw what they get when the police are allowed to react organically: a major symbolic gesture challenging the U.S. government, and a picture that says a thousand words about who the police really work for.

[h/t & alt]