#Press E to Interact Series

[froge-creates-extended-universe]

PAL.AI decided to do a little bit of investigating by herself about this "New Guy"

[jinusajas]

11/16/24; 01:06pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they’re in heat ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

additional notes: these are very short and very heated drabbles. my bestie pulled sylus’s card for me and i am now extremely f e r a l.

the effects of the “spell” had yet to wear off when sylus traps you in his bed, shedding you of all of your clothes while pressing the mushroom tip of his cock against your entrance.

he had you bent over on the mattress, with his chest pressing so deeply on your back. he continues to tease you in this new position, his deep purrs seeming to reverberate throughout your body. all while the sensation of his tail rubbing so eagerly around your slick heat makes you crumple on the bed.

“mmm…” letting out another purr of your name, sylus grips at your breasts before sliding the entire length of his cock deep inside of you, already setting a rapid pace when he pulls his cock out until only the tip was inside before slamming back in. by now, you were left a sobbing mess, clinging to your sheets as sylus proceeds to ram his hips against yours. the sounds of skin slapping against skin were all that echoes throughout the room, making you nearly roll your eyes back in response to such a sensation.

“only animals mate in such a position.” sylus tells you with a grunt all while biting down against the lobe of your ear. as you gasped and clawed at the sheets, you could feel each pulsating vein against sylus’s cock and the way he shamelessly pushes into you. basking in your needy moans, sylus presses a kiss against your damp cheek while hotly murmuring within your ear,

“and i’m starting to see the appeal of such mating rituals…”

zayne’s low purrs when he sinks into you causes a surge of heat to course through you, making you gasp when you felt your boyfriend initiate such intimate acts with you.

through a series of events, zayne was turned into a cat hybrid of sorts, and detecting your familiar scent was enough to send your lover into heat. his eyes became dilated at the mere sight of you, causing him to lose all sense of coherency.

running on pure instinct, zayne pushes aside your clothes, allowing his slender fingertips to run across and tease at your pussy lips before spreading them briefly. his grunts become needier, forgetting all about his intentions of foreplay when he catches a whiff of your pure, feminine scent.

but you weren’t complaining.

as you allow zayne to grip at your thighs, he slides the entire length of his cock inside of you. while you nearly spilled your juices atop his cock from such a sensation, zayne was not faring any better, tossing his head back while setting a sloppy pace against you.

his eyes were clenched shut, with his hands gripping at your breasts, allowing them to bounce within the palm of his hand each time his hips pistons in and out of you. and while you got drunk off of the pleasure zayne continues to give you, you were dimly aware of how your name were the only words that came from his mouth.

when xavier leads you to someplace a little more private, you weren’t expecting to be pushed to the ground with your skirt and panties tossed to the side. feeling your boyfriend settle himself between your legs, you had to bite against your fists to keep from crying out to him.

his newly developed cat ears were felt tickling at your inner thighs while his tongue lazily lapped at your slick walls. he drinks in every last drop of your honeyed arousal, like a spoiled cat having its fill of cream. unable to stop yourself, you delve your fingers into his hair all while purposely caressing at his cat ears, earning a shudder from him.

mere seconds later, xavier removes himself from between your legs, licking away the evidence of your arousal before pulling down his pants with a free hand. his swollen cock was revealed to you for only a moment before he impales your slick heat with it

“ngh…!” xavier’s grunts echo throughout the area along with your desperate moans. as your hunter boyfriend continues to pound himself into you, you felt the moisture flood from within your walls upon hearing his drunken words-

“not only do you taste so sweet, but you feel so good around me… just like this…”

“it’s going to take more than a few pats to satisfy me, princess.”

you didn’t like how haughty rafayel sounded, especially now that he had some cat like traits. despite the many times you had caressed and poked at his ear-

your stubborn boyfriend had yet to relent.

which was why you resorted to a bit more… extreme measures.

somehow, you had managed to push rafayel on his back, pinning him to the floor while pulling down his pants. he grunts in response to your actions, his tail twitching almost impatiently when you settle yourself between his thighs.

he was still pouting at you, deep crystalline eyes meeting your gaze, as if challenging you-

yet all that attitude from him disappears the moment you free his cock and place the mushroom tip inside of your mouth. basking in the way his entire body shudders in response to your actions, you take him even deeper inside of your mouth, allowing your tongue to trace at the pulsating veins that decorate his shaft.

“f-fuck, princess…!” he stills his hips and releases his seed inside of your awaiting lips, where you eagerly swallowed all that he had to offer with a satisfied hum.

you lick your lips, moving away from him to admire your work and just how beautifully rafayel had come undone for you. his ears were seen twitching atop his soft, wavy locks of hair with his arm thrown across his eyes. the young lemurian continues to breathe as if he had just finished running a marathon-

but you weren’t done with him yet, oh no-

far from it.

giving him a smug expression, you remove your soaked panties, allowing the bottom half of your body to remain bare before taking rafayel’s limp cock in your hand. he gasps, removing his arms while staring at you with wide eyes.

“princess- hng…!” he tosses his head back the moment you began to stroke him back to full hardness, making sure he was fully erect before sinking your aching cunt down on rafayel as you eagerly bounced yourself up and down his cock.

perhaps you were the one in heat instead of him after all.

end notes: brain go brrrr after seeing my fave lads boys as cats…. mrooooowing purring ripping my hair out——- 🫠

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[starsinthesky5]

Okay people always talk about private time *wink wink* after Joe wins a game, but what about after a concert?? Like she’s high on adrenaline from performing, he’s high off of watching her do her thing on stage for hours. You know they’d be feral. In her dressing room after, in the car on the way home/to the hotel, in the shower that she desperately needs after performing. I’m unwell.

description: ask sums it up! the post concert/preformance adrenaline rush has you both all over each other ;)

a/n: this is the hottest thing i have ever written. i need water.

word count: 2.7k

series: you are in love

warnings: smut!!!, language, MDNI

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

oh YES. im so unwell too, it's okay.

for this, we’re going to have a little snapshot into the future since the fics aren’t at this point yet ;)

--

oh, you just know they're absolutely feral after a concert. the second she steps off that stage, still breathless, still riding the high of the crowd screaming her lyrics back to her, seeing all their smiles and excitement, joe is already waiting backstage. and god, the look in his eyes? it is sooo over for her. he's been in the tent, watching her for hours, completely mesmerized, taking in every move, every lyric, every sly little smirk she tossed his way from the stage. he's either a little drunk and delirious or a bit groggy after all the dancing and shouting, but that doesn't stop him from getting his girl.

--

and yes, he danced along with her from the tent, even matched her choreography in some portions which he memorized from a few of the rehearsals he sat in on. he even interacted with her fans who noticed him, he had the biggest smile on his face too. he'd never been one to talk to strangers outside of when he had to due to his anxiety and closed-off personality, but for her? for her he'd do anything.

even though she was far away, locked up backstage as he was waiting outside in the crowd, he still somehow felt at ease as if she was right next to him. you know why? because he was physically in her world right now. her touch, her presence lingered in everything from the light-up bracelets on everyone's wrists, to the stage in front of him, to the feeling of mystique in the air. he was in the bubble she had so carefully crafted with her bare hands over the past few years, so he had no reason to be nervous, anxious, or quiet. he was happily out there in the crowd, chatting up a storm with her guests, team, fans, friends, family, and anyone who wanted to hear him sing her praises. he was surrounded by people who loved her almost as much as he loved her. joe really had nothing to complain about. this was a physical representation of her hard work, a testament to the countless hours in the studio he had witnessed, a reward for all those nights when he laid next to her and wiped the tears from her cheek.

this was her legacy.

oh, and how could we forget him singing along to every song on the setlist like it was all engraved into his brain (lowkey, with how often he listens to her music, it was).

moral of the story, yes. joe is that boyfriend. he is her biggest fan.

anyway, back to the point.

--

she barely has time to catch her breath before his hands are on her, fingers pressing into her waist, pulling her into him. "you have no idea what you do to me up there," he mutters, his voice raspy, his breath warm against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. she smirks, tilting her chin up at him, her own pulse racing. "oh, i think i do, quarterback," she said with a smirk, matching his confidence with some of her own.

they barely make it to the dressing room before he’s pressing her up against the door, hands gripping her hips, mouth trailing along the side of her neck. she’s still in her stage outfit, sparkly, barely-there, and it’s driving him insane. her chest is rising and falling rapidly, breathless from more than just performing, as she tugs him impossibly closer.

his hands roam lower, gripping her soft thighs, pressing her even harder against the door like he wanted to glue her to it. his mouth is everywhere--her jaw, the corner of her ear, her throat, the delicate curve of her collarbone--teeth scraping just enough to make her gasp. he loves that sound. loves the way her fingers fist the fabric of his shirt, desperate, like she needs him as badly as he needs her.

"god, you’re so fucking sexy up there," he groans against her skin, dragging his teeth over the shell of her ear again before dipping lower. his hands slide down, down, fingers teasing at the hem of her tiny outfit, tracing over the soft skin of her thighs once again.

"joe," she breathes, already dizzy, already melting. but he just hums, slipping a hand between her legs, pressing his fingers right where he knows she needs him most. she lets out a sharp gasp, her head falling back against the door with a soft thud.

he smirks, eyes dark and hooded as he watches her, watches the way her lips part, the way her chest rises and falls.

she’s so fucking responsive. that adrenaline is doing her wonders.

"this for me?" he murmurs, dragging his fingers over her, feeling just how warm, how wet she is for him. her breath hitches, and she nods, biting down on her lip.

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "nah, i wanna hear you say it,".

she barely managed to get the words out before he slipped a finger through her bodysuit, then inside her, slow and teasing, watching the way she fell apart for him. she gripped his shoulders, nails digging into him, legs trembling as he curled his finger just right.

"joey...fuck...,".

he groans at the sound of his name like that, adding another finger, pumping them in and out at a torturously slow pace. his thumb circles her clit, pressing just enough to make her hips jerk. she’s clenching around his fingers, making these soft, breathy little whimpers that are driving him insane. he presses his lips against her ear, his voice all rough and full of need. "you looked so good up there, baby. knew you’d be dripping for me the second you came off that stage,".

she lets out another choked moan at his words, her body arching into him, chasing the pressure of his hand. he groans, loving how fucking gone she is for him.

"you like knowing i was hard the whole time watching you?" his voice teasing her in so many ways that she was losing count. "thinking about how i was gonna have you the second i got you alone?".

she whimpers, her nails digging into his arms. "joe...,".

"shh, i got you, baby," he rasps, curling his fingers again to touch that one spot inside her, thrusting them deep, and dragging his thumb over her clit in tight circles again. her breath catches, and she’s right there, so damn close, her thighs squeezing around his hand.

he presses his forehead against hers, watching her fall apart. "cum for me, baby," he murmurs, and that’s all it takes--her whole body tenses, her mouth falling open in a silent moan as she comes undone around his fingers.

he keeps working her through it, fucking her with his hand until she’s whimpering, until her legs shake, until she’s gasping and clutching onto him like he’s the only thing keeping her up. he smirks, pulling his fingers from her, watching the way she shivers when he brings them to his lips, sucking them clean. "mm, sweet as always,".

she barely has time to catch her breath before he’s lifting her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. "we’re not done," he mutters, carrying her to the vanity table. "not even close,".

but unfortunately, they were when a knock at the door interrupted them.

so achingly close to a little more...

but it was always about timing ;)

--

and then there’s the car ride. 

oh goddddd, the car ride. she’s still coming down from the high of performing...and the high from the dressing room, legs draped over his lap in the backseat as they went back to her hotel. joe is just looking at her--like she’s the most intoxicating thing he’s ever seen. his hand traces slow, lazy circles on her thigh, his grip tightening every time she shifts closer. he leans in, murmuring something about how incredible she was tonight (singing her praises as usual. he's so obsessed with her like joe, hello? just marry her already damn), how he couldn’t take his eyes off her, how she belongs up there. and maybe it’s the compliments, maybe it’s the way his voice sounds so raw with admiration, but suddenly she’s tugging him in by the collar of his shirt, kissing him like she needs to.

he groans into her mouth, his hand sliding up her thigh, fingertips slipping just under the hem of her sweats. she’s all over him, fingers tangling in his hair, pressing her body against his like she’s trying to crawl into his lap completely.

"baby," he mumbles between kisses, his voice all strained and breathless, "we gotta—fuck—driver’s right there,".

she doesn’t care. can’t care. not when he’s looking at her like that, not when she can still feel the way his hands had been on her just minutes ago in her dressing room.

she presses a kiss to his jaw, then lower, lips brushing over the sweet spot on his neck, feeling the way he swallows hard beneath her mouth. "then be quiet," she whispers, a smirk tugging at her lips.

he shakes his head with an amused chuckle, "you are insane," he whispers back.

but he’s already pulling her closer, his hand sliding higher, his grip firm as his lips find hers again, deeper this time. slower. like he’s savoring her, like he’s reminding her—he’s not done with her yet.

--

then comes the shower back at the hotel.

that’s the thing about the shower—it’s necessary, but neither of them is pretending like it’s going to be just that.

her body is still buzzing with adrenaline, muscles aching in the best way from performing, and she knows she needs to wash off the sweat, the lingering heat of the stage lights, but the second she steps under the warm stream, he’s there.

joe is behind her in an instant, his bare chest pressing against her damp skin, arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her against him. the heat of the water is nothing compared to the heat of him, solid and burning, his body molding against hers like he belongs there.

he presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the back of her neck, "you’re unbelievable," he murmurs. his hands are already moving, trailing up her sides, palms rough against her soft skin, completely unable to keep themselves to himself.

she hums in response, letting her head fall back against his shoulder, sighing when his lips find the curve of her jaw. she tilts her head just enough to catch his lips with hers, but he barely lets her take control before he’s deepening the kiss, one hand sliding up to cup her breast, thumb rolling over her nipple. she gasps against his mouth, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue against hers, swallowing every little sound she makes.

his other hand is moving lower now, fingers dragging down the slick expanse of her stomach, teasing the space between her thighs. "you’re still shaking," he mutters, smirking against her lips as his fingers brush over where she’s already aching for him, where he just was not too long ago. "performance high? or is this me again?".

she whimpers, hips rocking forward into his touch, but it’s not enough--he’s teasing her, fingers barely grazing, making her crave it, making her need it.

"joe...," she breathes, a little desperate, a little impatient, nails digging into his arms.

he hums, mouth dragging along the curve of her shoulder, one hand sliding lower, gripping the curve of her hip, pressing himself against her. "been waiting all night for this, baby," he rasps, his cock hard against the small of her back, twitching when she rolls her hips against him.

she turns in his arms, pressing her body against his, her hands sliding up his chest, her fingers tangling in his damp hair. his lips crash into hers, all a messy mix of tongue and teeth, desperate and hungry. the kiss is sloppy, wet, the steam curling around them as the water hits down against their tangled bodies.

"need you," she whispers, dragging her nails down his back, pulling him closer. "need you so bad, joey,".

his hands grip her thighs, lifting her like she weighs nothing, pressing her against the wall as the hot water continues to beat down on both of them. his cock is thick, hard, already pushing at her entrance, teasing her with shallow movements that make her squirm.

"so needy," he smirks, but there’s a softness to his tone, teasing her but filled with love. his lips brush over her cheek, then her temple, a contrast to the way he’s holding her captive against the tile. "you couldn't even wait till we got to the bed, huh?".

"joey....fuck, please. i can't," she pleads, the combination of the burning shower, the burning feeling in her stomach, and the sizzle of her skin under his gaze was all too much for her.

he grins, shaking his head because he just knows her too well, and then he slams into her in one deep thrust.

she cries out, head falling back, nails digging into his shoulders and leaving crescent moon marks. he groans from the feeling of how tight and wet she is around him, clenching like she was made for him. but even as he starts to move, rolling his hips in deep, punishing thrusts, his hands stay gentle on her--one gripping her thigh, the other splayed across her lower back, holding her close, keeping her steady.

"fuck, baby," he grits out, grinding his hips just right, making her feel every inch. "you were made for me,". his mouth finds hers, kissing her between gasps, swallowing the moans that slip past her lips. his movements are rough, desperate, but his kisses are soft, sweet, like he can’t help but adore her even while he’s wrecking her.

"you think i could sit there and watch you all night, looking so fucking hot on that stage, and not end up buried inside you the second we got alone?".

she whimpers, "ah, joe. p- please," as her her fingers tangle in his damp curls, pulling his mouth back to her. he moans into her mouth, his thrusts deep but unhurried now, savoring the way she feels around him.

"yeah?" he teases, voice thick, strained. "you like that? like how i fuck you after you get off stage all worked up, knowing i was watching, knowing i was losing my mind wanting you?".

she nods frantically, but it’s not enough. he needs words.

"say it," he breathes against her lips, slowing his pace, rolling his hips into hers with devastating accuracy--hitting every spot he knew she loved.

"love it," she gasps, nearly sobbing. "love when you fuck me like this--fuck, joe--,".

he groans, pressing his forehead against hers, his lips brushing over her cheek, her nose, anywhere he can reach.

"you gonna cum for me, baby?" he murmurs, feeling her walls flutter around him. "you gonna make a fucking mess all over me?".

"yes..yes, fuck--,".

he shifts his angle, tilting her hips, and that’s it--her whole body seizes, her walls clenching down hard, her moan high-pitched and desperate as she shatters, shaking in his arms.

"that’s it, baby," he groans, barely holding on, "so fucking perfect when you let go for me,".

her orgasm sends him over the edge--he thrusts once, twice, then buries himself deep, groaning as he spills inside her, filling her up, rocking his hips as he rides it out. he doesn’t pull out right away--just stays there, chest heaving, arms tight around her, pressing soft kisses to her jaw, her cheeks, her lips.

"mine," he breathes, forehead resting against hers. "always mine,".

he’s still inside her, but his grip turns tender, his touch light as he runs his hands over her slick skin, tracing every curve like he’s committing her to memory all over again.

"you okay, baby?" he murmurs, kissing her forehead, her nose, her swollen lips.

she nods, sighing contentedly as she melts against him. "yeah," she whispers, voice a little hoarse from well...everything. "i just love you so much,".

he smiles, tilting her chin up to kiss her again. "i love you more," he breathes against her lips. "always,".

--

when they finally make it to bed--bodies exhausted, skin flushed, sheets a tangled mess -- joe just holds her, pressing soft, lazy kisses to her temple, the same hands that had been gripping her with desperate need now were tracing light, soothing patterns along her spine. “i love watching you up there. you’re magic,” he murmurs, his tone just as soft as his touch. she smiles against his chest, completely at peace, completely his.

[robinfrinjs]

Formula E and Infosys have launched an AI Powered stats center - and it's.. laughable at best.

TLDR: It sucks, Generative AI Sucks, Fuck FE. I've described it a little more down below.

Obviously this is to show case their new partnership with Infosys as described in this part of the press release:

This initiative marks a significant step forward in Infosys’ three-year partnership with Formula E. The Stats Centre will provide fans with interactive access to stellar performances of drivers and teams, their key milestones, and compelling narratives through its Key Stats and Insights platform. It engages users by showcasing the stats of drivers and teams across past seasons, using a trending bubble chat format that prompts engaging curated questions. This feature makes complex data easily digestible and fosters a deeper connection between fans and the all-electric sport. 

It's a whole lot of bullshit for a pretty flawed platform (which is to be expected when using Generative AI). I would say I'm disappointed with Formula E but I guess I'm not really surprised.

Most of this platform could've been made by a real person - and already exists made by a real person on the Formula E website. (Driver stats & biographies etc.)

When entering the website this is what you're faced with

A relatively nice overview of stats that might as well have been on the actual Formula E website. A weird thing though is that you can only view the top 3 in both championships - why not showcase both?

It's glaringly obvious AI was used for this though - like thank you for telling us but we knew; exhibit:

And this:

Now I'm not claiming to be someone great at writing, because I'm not but this is glaringly bad sentence structure wise. The first sentence could easily be misinterpreted as Miami having been on the FE calendar since the first season and never having left since. Now the second sentence makes it clear FE is returning but there's nothing specifying since when it's returning.

Moving on to the second page, it's a little confusing cuz it shows different things loading it each time (for me)

But on the We think you'll like they show a few driver and team bios. Only - these bios are really bad. I could point out mistakes in all of them probably but one of the first ones I saw is this one in Jev's biography

They call it a World Championship title while when Jev won his titles the series did not have World Championship status.

Also on part of the Buemi driver bio: it keeps differentiating between E-Prix and ePrix

You can't choose which driver's biography you want to read every time you refresh it shows different drivers but it keeps cycling through the same set (i tried to get Robin, impossible). You can choose to follow drivers though but that only gives you a recap of a driver's last race.

Pascal's & Sam's for example

it picks some key points but it's hard to actually really gain any knowledge from it imo. And it just comes with random facts in between that don't really aid the recap. "His average speed was 129.69km/h." When? During the first race? during the second race? On one lap?

Moving on:

The last one is an AI companion, it has a few sets of questions which change whenever you reload the page. This is one of the questions, which already has a spelling mistake and it's generally just a weird question the way it's phrased.

You can't ask any questions yourself - which kind of defeats the purpose imo. The questions are set so constantly seemingly generating the answers is also weird. The answers are just general AI slop, not worth your time.

[jenn2sec]

English vers.

Based On My Dreams Series (RAW):

❝ Chase ❞

start - friday31022025

couple - Choi Seung Hyun (T.O.P) x fem!reader

note - softly, badwords(maybe?), Han Seo Hee (im a biggest hater), short

caption section - this short-fanfic is based on my dream, the only difference i edited is a little bit and the area where they interact, the rest is kept the same as in the dream. so i kept the presence of Han Seo Hee (who appeared in my dream). And remember, Han SEO Hee not Han SOO Hee!!!

We’re always open to feedback and ideas to make the story better!

The kids were ushered away from the playground right after you managed to call security. That woman, however, kept pushing forward, calling out to T.O.P repeatedly. But you stepped in, blocking her way.

“Please, just shut the hell up! And then get lost!!”

She kept advancing like a madwoman, teasing and provoking Seung Hyun as if she were high. In a fit of anger, you even grabbed a handful of the playground sand and held it up, threatening to throw it at her. Only then did Han Seo Hee curse under her breath and storm off.

“That woman… ugh"

You turned back to the slide, the tall tube one. Scanning around, you didn’t see T.O.P anywhere. Thinking he had already left, you let out a small sigh. But then, a faint creaking sound came from inside the slide.

Looking closer, you noticed a large shadow within it. After a brief moment of hesitation, you decided to crawl in as well.

“Seung Hyun-ah…” you called softly.

Since you weren’t Korean and didn’t fully understand the cultural nuances, you instinctively called him by his name. The moment you realized it might be too informal, you quickly pressed your lips together, staying silent.

T.O.P didn’t reply. Instead, he hesitantly lifted his gaze, looking directly into your eyes. His long, thick lashes and sharp nose made you hold your breath for a moment. The space between you two felt like it was shrinking, tightening with an unspoken tension.

The positioning was… strange, to say the least. T.O.P, being tall, was lying flat inside the tube slide, while you were halfway inside, lying on the playground floor. Your heads met near the opening of the slide, making it look like two adults playing a children’s game. Yet, somehow, the atmosphere between you both shifted into something much more intense—just from his sheer beauty.

Fine, maybe you were being immature, but could you really be blamed?!

“Are you okay?” You asked, knowing full well how pointless the question was. So, without waiting for an answer, you quickly changed the subject: “There’s an ice cream shop nearby. Do you want to go there with me?”

He exhaled, a deep and shaky breath, closing his eyes before resting his forehead against the slide. Just as he was about to answer, your hand moved on its own, reaching out to touch his hair.

“Seung… Seung Hyun-ssi, I chased that woman away.”

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’ll chase away everything that upsets you.”

“So… let’s go get some ice cream, okay? They have peach flavor—I researched carefully for today.”

Choi Seung Hyun studied you quietly. His lashes were slightly damp, probably from Han Seo Hee’s presence earlier. His lips, too. Maybe he had shed a few tears while you were dealing with that woman. Right now, he looked like a kid who had just stopped crying—one who was listening to his mother promise him sweet treats to cheer him up. Happy about the candy, but secretly wishing for a bigger gift.

Looking at him like this, you couldn’t help but smile, your eyes crinkling slightly as you admired his beautiful yet childlike face.

“I promise it won’t trigger your allergies. That place is really careful. The ice cream is made from real fruit.”

Your voice lifted a pitch or two, becoming brighter, lighter. And it made T.O.P smile. He pouted slightly before speaking, his deep voice laced with playful mischief.

”________”

_____

F i x a r a w S o f t e n

friday31022025

05:50

︾︾︾︾︾︾︾

to speed things up and because my english isn’t really that good, i decided to use a translation tool to help with the language switch.

this short-fanfic is based on my dream, the only difference i edited is a little bit and the area where they interact, the rest is kept the same as in the dream. so i kept the presence of Han Seo Hee (who appeared in my dream). im sorrynot sorry if i made Han Seo Hee fans unhappy with the way i dreamed about her(ngl, im her big hater for all the nightmares she bring to anyone around her). And remember, Han SEO Hee not Han SOO Hee!!!

anyway, this post is a small part of my dream and i post it for reference, if i get support from you guys i'll continue it with a more complete plot! leave a comment or interact to let me know that this is really ok!!!

hope you all understand and enjoy ♡

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III

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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

━─━────༺༻────━─━

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33

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When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle

“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly. 

But then he holds the food away from you. 

You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating. 

You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water. 

So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time. 

It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving. 

When you’re feeling better, you glower at him. 

He is rather pleased, though. 

The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it. 

He laughs warmly, fondly. 

“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away. 

You don’t respond to him.

He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth. 

You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.” 

“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge. 

The orange pops into your mouth. 

“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit. 

Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more. 

“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands. 

You swallow the piece in your mouth. 

“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you. 

Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.

Tears prick your eyes again. 

You turn your face away from him. He sighs. 

“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.” 

You sniff. “I could say the same of you.” 

“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.” 

“I don’t need—”

“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.” 

Stubbornly, you remain silent. 

“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears. 

“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.” 

You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve. 

He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.” 

You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.

You don’t think you’ll win this one—

Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way. 

You feel silly for denying him.

Perhaps worse for agreeing.

Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?” 

Suguru studies you for a moment. 

He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.

You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him. 

He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice. 

And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are. 

Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.

Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds. 

When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.

With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes. 

His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.

And there's a strange look in his eyes now. 

Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better. 

A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him. 

He takes hold of you easily. 

“Hurts?” He muses softly.

You nod, tense and quick. 

“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter. 

Instinctively, you cling to him.

You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—

“Breathe,” he says again gently.

But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.

He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay. 

Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man. 

Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight? 

“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch. 

You seek friction and he denies you. 

Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again. 

“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?” 

“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.” 

A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat. 

“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest. 

“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.” 

And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning. 

The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body. 

When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers. 

You glare up at him with glassy eyes. 

“Open,” he says, warm and low.

Pleased.

Turned on. 

Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek. 

You’re slow about it, or maybe he is. 

You hold his gaze furiously. 

Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth. 

***

The third day is perhaps the worst.

You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.

At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you. 

You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.

Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down. 

And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.

You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks. 

You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands. 

Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints. 

(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.) 

Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him. 

When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls. 

All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—

Bite.

Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.

He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.

You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—

“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?” 

As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul. 

“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him. 

You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?” 

As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it. 

When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw. 

“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.” 

Something inside of you snaps. 

Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you. 

In an instant, you are back atop him. 

This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer. 

He actually cries out in pain. 

The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist. 

You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have. 

Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt. 

He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”

And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him. 

You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again. 

This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared. 

He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest. 

You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.

He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance. 

Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him. 

Not so pristine. 

Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him. 

“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.” 

Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.” 

“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.” 

“Let me up,” you snap. 

“Will you be good?” Suguru asks. 

Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more. 

So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.

Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard. 

You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you. 

His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.

“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.” 

And for once, you don’t fight him. 

You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you. 

When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.

He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.” 

You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now. 

But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest. 

“So are you.” You reply, words slurring. 

You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep. 

***

Suguru wakes you at some point. 

It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing. 

You whimper. 

“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?” 

“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash. 

“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.” 

You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this. 

For a moment, you hope that he means—

“I’m going to give you a bath.” 

You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy. 

He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more. 

You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind. 

You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light. 

The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.

“No,” you snap, “leave.” 

He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.” 

“I’m not a child,” you protest.

“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too. 

You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?” 

“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings. 

You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard. 

You ache. 

This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever. 

You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry. 

Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain. 

Suguru lifts you into the bath. 

It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle. 

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.

And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.

Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—

Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little. 

“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.

Babying you.

And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you. 

You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours. 

“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?” 

A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.” 

“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him. 

“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh. 

“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.” 

You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.

After a moment, you say, “I know.” 

He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.” 

You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss. 

You pull away as quickly as you’d done it. 

You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone. 

And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.” 

He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.” 

“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?” 

His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.

He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late. 

The fever only worsens. 

And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day. 

*** 

Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.

Because of how Suguru finds you. 

The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began. 

For once, you have shocked Suguru. 

Enough that his lips part. 

Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant. 

You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds. 

“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve. 

Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit. 

(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?) 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed. 

You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp. 

What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind. 

“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—” 

You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—

It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.

“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him. 

You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together. 

“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.

You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself. 

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.” 

For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers. 

But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously. 

Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought. 

“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face. 

“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“

“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“

The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.

The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again. 

“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.

“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—

In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.

He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you. 

“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.

“Is it working?” You ask. 

All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.

Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin. 

“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”

Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.

Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin. 

“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.” 

“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.

“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.” 

“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting. 

You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.

Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough. 

It almost feels as if it’s made it worse. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.” 

You curse this time. 

But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.” 

His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.” 

“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger. 

He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself. 

“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.” 

“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”  

“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly. 

You bite off a groan. 

Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—

“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.” 

“Suguru—” 

Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you. 

He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—

“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?” 

You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child. 

“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”

His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.” 

“Suguru,” you growl in frustration. 

“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?” 

Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so— 

You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns. 

You force yourself to freeze, still panting. 

And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound. 

“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.” 

You sneer at him and he takes his hand away. 

Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—

“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?”  Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you? 

“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks. 

When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.” 

“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want. 

You desire. 

You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast. 

“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—” 

It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob. 

Your tears make him smile. 

He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?” 

You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you. 

He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.

“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly. 

You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl. 

And then, “look at me.” 

You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless. 

“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.” 

Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable. 

You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry. 

“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?” 

A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching. 

“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.” 

Without thinking, you obey him. 

You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief. 

You cry out, clinging to him. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.” 

You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—

Embarrassing. So horrible. 

You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.” 

You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.” 

“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—” 

“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.” 

You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss. 

He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.” 

And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.” 

The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat. 

Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—

All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly. 

He presses his hand down just a little more and—

Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted. 

You sob. 

You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.

Suguru is there to catch you. 

He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder. 

And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat. 

You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.  

You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—

But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above. 

Ice cold water pours on you. 

You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water. 

It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you. 

He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap. 

You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap. 

He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on. 

You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms. 

“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.” 

“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.

“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile. 

You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender. 

“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges. 

He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;

“I know.” 

***

Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly. 

You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother. 

You feel infinitely closer to him. 

You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can. 

He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even. 

And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks. 

When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?” 

“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest. 

“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.” 

Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him. 

He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now? 

“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his. 

You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again. 

But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep. 

You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth. 

When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.” 

He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner. 

It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;

“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.” 

You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again. 

It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place. 

It’s like finally coming home. 

[knightswaypoint]

Merlinktober Day 19 (on day 23): Scales

A celebration of some Dragon!Merlin fics I’ve enjoyed! (close-ups and fic links under cut)

In a World of the Same, You're Different by @thepenguinclub

Rating: Gen | Word Count: 8,058 | Chapters: 1 “You know,” the prince started, and Merlin grunted in frustration, turning away. Princes were always the same, “I don’t appreciate you talking about my father like that.” Merlin stopped and narrowed his eyes, before slowly looking back at the prince. He studied the prince's face intently. “And who, exactly, would your father be?” he asked, fury crackling through the calm sounding words. He was not in the mood to be played with by a prince. “Uther Pendragon,” the prince said calmly. Merlin’s tail lashed so hard against the rock next to him a large piece of it chipped off, rocketing through the air and over the edge of the mountain. --- Merlin was cursed to be a dragon, which was fine. It was fine, he was fine, he was happy, thank you very much. Everything was great. Except for all these knights and princes that kept bothering him. That, that was not fine. It was annoying. It definitely wasn't the only human interaction he ever got, he was fine. So if this odd group of knights and their king would leave, that would be wonderful.

A Dream of Dragons by @slantedknitting | with Art by LFB72

Rating: E | Word Count: 40,640 | Chapters: 1 Merlin, a fierce dragon, is captured and held prisoner in a deep cave under a castle. He believes he will perish, miserable and alone… until a second prisoner arrives. The man is small and annoying at first, but gradually they get to know each other, and soon enough the cave is almost tolerable. Then the man escapes, and Merlin realises his whole world has been changed.

running back home by @sourw0lfs | with Art by @kokoshka67

Rating: M | Word Count: 25,126 | Chapters: 7 With another growl, the monster surges forward, pressing its full weight into Arthur and toppling his footing. They both go down hard with just the damaged sword as a barrier between them. Arthur’s arms shake with the effort to keep it that way, pressing upwards with all the strength he can muster to free himself. The monster barely budges, lips pulling back in a snarl that reveals a mouthful of half-sharp, half-dull teeth. Through his panic, Arthur finally realizes why this monster seems so different from the attacks in the past. His gaze trails from the jagged teeth snapping angrily at him to the side of the creature’s face that isn’t covered in scales, to the side that’s so obviously and glaringly human. Because the monster isn’t a monster at all. It’s something else entirely, some kind of cursed hybrid never before seen. Worst of all, though, Arthur finds that he recognizes the human face beyond the scales and fangs. “Merlin?”

Tales of a Dragon and His Prince by @0hheytherebigbadwolf

(Summary for the first in the series) Rating: Gen - E | Word Count: 42,121 | Works: 15 They cannot have even one hunt without something going wrong on some level. A horse throws a shoe. A crossbow string breaks. A storm blows in. A giant beast attacks. Merlin turns into a dragon. The usual things.

(and also With the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet because it's a similar dragon design and both fics are so very fun)

[nebulacritter]

a cool japanese kids' show i found

This is Bitworld (formerly known as Tensai Bit-Kun), and it is an interactive children's show that airs on NHK's educational block, NHK-E. It first aired in 2001, and they're still making episodes of it in 2024!

(Older version on the left, newer version on the right.)

I don't wanna get too much into the lore, but the story takes place in a digital realm called Bitworld; formerly known as Bitland. The denizens of Bitworld are under attack by different villains throughout the series, so they transport children to their world to solve problems and defend Bitworld from evil.

Here's the fun part! Children have to submit their ideas, drawings, and ecetera to its official website for them be seen on TELEVISION!

Screenshots are kinda low-quality, but here are some examples!

In segments like these, you have to press the buttons on the remote to control a little mini-game!

I thought this would be funny to include. This specific segment is animated by Studio AC-BU, and they're the very same guys who worked on Bob Team Epic.

I saved the best thing for last. Bitworld even had a video game called Gramon Battle, and it was released on the Gamecube and the PS2. I'll describe it as short as possible: Pokemon meets Grafitti Kingdom.

Since this is the end of this post, I just want to tell you something. It was very nice of these showrunners to encourage their young audience to interact with them. Does anything similar to Bitworld exist in America?

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

Rhysand - NSFW alphabet - 1,3k followers celebration

Here is the first one of this series! I'll try to write an alphabet for (almost) EVERY acotar man. Thank you so much for the 1,3k! I put very much work in my writings, especially because English isn’t my first language. So your love, comments, interactions and feedback mean very much to me. This is smut and 18+! Which one will I post next…? Happy pride month btw!! <3

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Rhys would be a talker during aftercare, he cleans you up with a little help of his magic, so he can pull you back in his arms as soon as possible. He would ask you about your day, about what you liked, listen to your thoughts, all while playing with your hair lovingly.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He's pretty smug about his whole body, but most of all he's proud of his thighs. That's partly because you've encouraged that thought, you absolutely love his thighs. They are thick and muscular, perfect to ride on. Rhys also loves the tattoos there.

Regarding your body, he is obsessed with your hips (because I think Rhys is an ass guy, but he loves the sides of it more). More specific, he loves the delicious and soft skin there, in his opinion perfect to grab while making love to you. He kneads and grabs the flesh constantly. When you're in public he is also grabbing your hips. He mostly does it to show the world you're his, but he also does it so he can secretly place your backside against his body.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

As an Illyrian, this man comes A LOT. He also comes hard, his eyes are always screwed shut and it takes everything in him to not shout your name and shake the mountains. Rhys also has a breeding kink so he goes feral when you let him cum inside you, when he doesn't he loves to come on your body too (he prefers it on your ass of course). But like I said, there is a lot of cum so you're always so full with it. It takes so long to clean it all up.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a fantasy where he fucks you on his throne in the Hewn City. He imagines you bend over one of the armrests as he fucks you hard, your hair in his hands and back arched. Or he imagines you are riding him when he's sitting on the throne, just watching how pretty you look for him. Bouncing up and down, your tits in his soft but calloused hands. He knows you would leave traces of what happened, leaving the smell behind, so his people know well enough who you belong to.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very very experienced. He's definitely had sex with females AND males, he's also had a lot of threesomes and stuff like that. But he's not as experienced as his brothers I think, the man is sometimes too busy with high lord stuff.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I think he loves good old missionary very much. Rhys is a very passionate person so he thinks it's important to have eye contact during sex. He also loves to pull your body as close as possible to his when he fucks you in missionary, your breasts pressed into his body (the friction is amaaaazing)

(He's also obsessed with you riding him)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Rhys is very serious but I think sometimes he doesn't mind some humor in bed. He's still a big tease and sometimes he can't help but smile or laugh a bit because of that.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think he trims it because he seems a very clean and spotless person to me. But he doesn't pay that much attention to it

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Rhys is romantic and very passionate. It's not like he is gonna place rose petals everywhere but he loves the occasional slow-paced love-making. Don't worry, he also likes the fast and passionate fucking. I swear, THE LOOK he has in his eyes when he's pounding into you...

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I think now that he's with you, he wouldn't masturbate that much anymore. BUT I think before that, he needed it a lot. Sometimes he's so stressed with his work, so he would masturbate a lot back then. Sometimes even a few times in a row. But now he has a very active sex live with you, so when he needs some stress relieve, you're always there to help him with it. ;)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding (like i've mentioned before)

Make-up sex (sometimes he intentionally teases you or you intentionally pick a fight, because the sex afterwards is mind-shattering)

Mirrors (and worshipping you)

Praise kink!!!! Both ways. This man whimpers when you praise him. But he also praises you the whole time. (My good girl, tasting so sweet for me, my pretty girl, you look so good with my cock in your mouth, ...)

Games (like: who first comes loses or rolling a dice with positions)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Mostly just the bedroom for Rhys, but like I've said, he dreams about fucking you on his throne. I think he would also love fucking you on places like balconies or the couch with the risk of someone of the inner circle walking in.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you start giving him teasing touches in public. One time, you were tracing his chest when he was having a conversation with Cassian, always going closer and closer to his pants. He excused himself very quickly and grabbed you with him.

He gets turned on immediately when you are in a heated discussion with someone, doesn't matter who it is. He thinks it's so incredibly hot when you're talking like that. He fucks the attitude out of you later that evening though.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Not much would turn him off. Maybe he wouldn't like sex that is a bit too public, even though he wouldn't mind sharing you with someone occasionally, public sex would be a little hard for him. Some risk at getting caught turns him on, but not in places like the streets of Velaris. Probably the high lord responsibilities in him lol.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

GIVER, I'm sure. He loves to go on his knees for you. He could eat you out for hours, he wants to do it all the time. When you're just minding you're business reading a book? He asks if he can taste you. When you're cooking dinner? He insists you would be a better dinner for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I feel like he would be the kind of guy who fucks you slow but hard, slamming his hips against you with such force and a stupid sexy smirk on his face. But there are times when it's more feral between you two. He's not shy from grabbing you by the hair and pounding into you hard en fast (with the occasional spanking when you’ve misbehaved).

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn't mind, sometimes he's busy and quickies are the only option. There's also something in the fast pace and nervousness of having a quickie, that turns him on.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Rhys loves to experiment, like I've said not like public sex, but more in terms of things like games. So, the risk of trying new things. We all know he's a sucker for bodypainting. He also wants to try new toys or experiment with his powers during sex (showing you his view or darkening the whole room).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Fae male= amazing stamina , it's not unusual for you two to have multiple rounds in one night. It's like once you've started, you can't stop. The frenzy with Rhys was a whole month and afterwards you still retreated in social situations.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes, it's a secret between you and him but he hired a personal inventor for this kind of stuff. Someone who makes toys for the two of you. The first you tried out was some kind of vibrator and the inventor improved it together with you and Rhys, aligned with your preferences. Then you tried more and more (dildo’s, strap-ons,…)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is a BIG, SMUG tease!!! Rhys edges you so often, resulting in you pleading him to please let you cum. He just smirks and edges you again and again. "You think you deserve to cum?" or "just another minute baby, you're so pretty with that look on your face". When you finally come it’s amazing though.

He also loves to seduce you and make you horny in situations where it’s almost impossible for you to do something about it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's pretty vocal because he praises you constantly. He's a grunter and when he moans it's mostly soft and in your ear, his breath tickling you.

When you're in charge he whimpers so much and his moans are high pitched (it's so fucking sexy).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Following the above, Rhys sometimes craves you being the dominant one in bed. There are moments when he just needs to let go and he totally can when you’re in charge. He gets all whiny, tears in his eyes, pleading for you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

If I dare to be a little too descriptive: he's not too thick but he's long, and he has a dick that grows A LOT when he gets hard (the difference is remarkable). It has a beautiful darker color but the tip is pinkish and there's a slight curve. It's literally mouth-watering.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high, you guys have a lot of sex, but it could be worse like with Cassian (to be continued….).

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Because he's a talking during aftercare, he usually doesn't sleep that fast. But when you eventually fall asleep it's you who does first, often mid-sentence, too tired to keep talking. And when you are asleep, he is content to fall asleep too.

[calebslittleapple]

feels like home: sticky fingers

After a few weeks apart, Caleb reconnects with his Pip-squeak, only to find that she's pretty beaten up after a mission. Fortunately, Caleb knows exactly what to do to take care of his girl. From one moment to the next, everything changes, and what starts as an innocent interaction quickly evolves into something else entirely... two-shot, post club-interactions, but can be read as a standalone as well (though, this is part of my feels like home series).

Pairing: LaDS Caleb x MC (she/her)

Genre: Smut (with feelings); chapter one is M, chapter two is E; 18+

CW: Codependency; Pip-squeak as an endearment; MC is named "Emme" short for "Emme Sea" lmao; Finger Sucking; sensual massage; Vaginal Fingering; humping

Also on AO3

Chapter 2/2

Caleb sighs, long and hard. Says a prayer for courage to whoever happens to be listening, the Gods of the earth and the sea and space, or otherwise, and then, he gets to work. He kneels at the edge of the bed, and he’s tall enough that this gives him a good vantage point. He knows exactly what he wants to do next, and he’s as ready as he’ll ever be.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

She mumbles out a response, and Caleb squirts some of the oil into his warm hand and lets it rest there for a moment because it’s pretty cold. He prefers to touch her with his natural hand, but she needs him to do his best, so both will do.

Still, she shivers when he gently presses into the back of her thigh with his reconstructed hand.

“…Sorry.”

“No, no,” she assures him. “It feels… nice. I like it.”

She should probably alternate between heat and ice on those swollen muscles, but maybe he’ll talk her into doin’ that later. After he’s assured himself that she’s better and that her muscles won’t cause her trouble in the morning.

He starts slow, trying to find a pace that he can maintain and that brings her the most comfort.

“Is that okay?”

“You can go a bit harder. I can handle it,” she assures him.

“That’s my girl,” he drawls. “Tough as steel.”

From then on, Caleb really leans into his massage. Hell, he gets his elbows and forearms in there too, grinding along the tense muscles with the sharp planes of his arms to help them release. Through it all, she whimpers softly and squirms, those impossibly short shorts riding higher… and higher.

Eventually, he works his way up to just beneath the curve of her ass. “This okay?”

“Mmm… Harder.”

His fingers twitch against her skin, and once he’s regained the ability to think without his dick getting in the way, he presses his fingers into her muscles and slowly massages the tightness. On and on, he presses, only stopping to put more oil on her skin as it’s slowly absorbed.

At one point, he gets a little too into it, and his fingers slip… softly skimming that sensitive space between her leg and the apex of her thigh.

“Ahh…,” she gasps.

“Oh… I… Yeah, that was an accident. M’sorry.”

She’s silent for a long moment, and when she finally speaks, her voice is quiet but clear. “But what if I don’t want it to be an accident?”

“What?” he manages, more breath than word.

“Do it again. Intentionally.”

Just like that, his Evol is in control, and she’s flipped on her back, breathless with surprise as she stares up at him, legs splayed and shirt riding so high he can see the underside of her breasts.

“What… did you just say?”

She locks eyes with him and lets her leg shift to the side, so it’s very evident that she’s not wearing any underwear.

“Touch me, Caleb. Let me see if you’ve been working on your courage.”

Oh, the cheek to call him a coward, when she’d turned away from his kiss. There’d be no turning away now. He was going to mark her so deeply and so ruinously that she’d never think of turning away from his kisses again, or anything else he offered, for that matter.

“You sure about this?”

“You running away?”

He laughs, lifts his chin, and flicks the length of his hair out of his eyes. “Not a chance.”

Caleb shifts so that he’s better positioned beside her body and trails his fingertips along the exposed line of her stomach. He teases with his fingers along the waistband of her shorts. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Waiting until she’s squirming and pouting at him.

“Tease,” she accuses.

He doesn’t deny it. He lets one finger slide in. Skims along the outer edge of the trim curls at the apex of her thighs. Another finger slides in, curls into her skin, inches closer… and retreats. Finally, he slips his whole hand under the band of her shorts, his big hand dominating the expanse of her stomach.

And if he’s feeling smug, the moment his fingers trace along the line of her sex—slick and hot—everything except pure adoration flees from his mind.

Her hands come up, nails digging into the meat of his forearm, as she whimpers and writhes into his touch. He didn’t know it would be like this. Of course, he’d imagined how things would go and how they would feel. Obsessively, even. But this is… more than he knew to expect.

His body feels hyper-aware of every sound, every smell, every movement, as he searches for the spot that will make her feel best. Sure, he’s not experienced with this, but Caleb is a fast learner and, when it comes to her, he’s good at anticipating her whims.

So, when his fingers roll some of that slickness up, gathering and spreading it over the sweet spot between her legs, he can’t help but feel exceptionally fuckin’ prideful that he made her moan like that.

Caleb leans in, presses his lips against her shoulder, and soothes, “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

She looks at him, dazed and almost frantic. “I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what, baby?”

“That it would feel this good.”

The knowledge that she’s been thinking of what this might feel like, along with the fact that it feels better than she imagined, sends a jolt of pleasure through him that’s so raw he chokes a bit. He’d hate to let her down, so he does his best to ignore his own needs, and pushes on, fingers softly rubbing circles against her sensitive spot until she’s panting, squirming, begging.

“Caleb,” she moans his name. He thinks he’s never heard anything sweeter sounding in his entire damn life.

“Tell me what you need.”

“Mmm… More?”

She sounds unsure, but he endeavors to give her precisely what she wants. His fingers slip low, teasing the entrance to her sex for a moment before inching inside. She’s so hot and slick and flutters so sweetly as he drenches his fingers. He slides that slickness back to worry at the same sensitive spot.

Caleb is very, very good at reading people. He has to be. In his line of work, you never know who’s gonna try to make things difficult, but it has the bonus of making him very responsive to her and her needs.

So, he knows she feels good thanks to his softly swirling touch. He can see it in the way her cheeks are flushed, in the way her breath catches in her throat, in the way her abdomen tenses.

She’s close.

His eyes don’t know where to focus, but eventually settle on her face. God, he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his whole life than her there, with her hair spread out on the sheets, her lip caught between her teeth, and her eyes locked on him.

“Please,” she begs.

He obliges her, and Caleb indulges in the sweet experience of watching her writhe for him. Higher and higher, he pushes her. Now, her nails are digging into his arm. It’s almost painful, but he likes it. Even if it’s pain, he’s fine with it. As long as it’s from her.

Never mind how she moans, whimpers, and gasps. He wants to tattoo this memory into his psyche, so deep that even if he forgets himself, he’ll never forget her and this.

Finally, her back arches, feet digging into the bed as she gasps. He’s got her now.

“Just a little more?” he teases, but he’s not sure if she hears him because her eyes roll back, lashes fluttering as she takes in a long breath… and comes hard with his name on her lips.

He will never get tired of hearing that. Ever.

Everything changed after that night at the club, and he refuses to go back to the way things were. Now, he’s stretched out beside her in her bed, his fingers coated with her desire, and her nails digging into him as if she can’t get enough.

He knows he can’t get enough of her. That just one taste is enough to drive him mad, but still, he can’t help but marvel as she catches her breath, looking dazed and satisfied.

His fingers skim across her sensitive skin. “God. You’re so wet,” he marvels. He did this to her. Him and no one else.

She bites her lip and turns away from his ardent gaze. But Caleb isn’t having it. This is real. This is something the two of them are sharing for the first time, and he won’t let anything, not even her embarrassment, diminish this.

He takes her hand and gently guides it between her legs, purposefully trailing her fingers along the slick line of her sex.

“…See?”

“Caleb!” she says, sounding breathless, annoyed, and aroused all at once. “I can already feel it.”

He grins and makes sure she’s watching as he lifts her slick fingers to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the tips before pulling them into his mouth. His eyes roll back as he sucks her fingers clean. He is never gonna be able to forget the taste of her.

She whimpers as he sucks, body shifting and hips rolling as if begging for more. And he wants to give her more, wants to give her everything she’s ever wanted, plus whipped cream and a cherry on top, just for good measure.

But it seems she’s getting to her limit with his teasing. Reaching up, she tangles her fingers into the necklace she gave him—twice—and purposefully angles him so that his face is right in front of hers.

“Kiss me,” she demands. “Don’t chicken out.”

He barely keeps from reminding her that she was the one who chickened out last time, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he’s a bit nervous. After all that they’d done, he’d not really properly kissed her. Sure, they’d had those fleeting moments and almost-kisses.

But this moment is real.

And he can’t take this back.

She won’t let him.

Lifting her chin, she bridges the gap between them, pressing into his rough lips. It starts slow, teasing even. Reminds him of a butterfly’s wings gently fluttering against his skin until she moves, lips pressing tight, tongue dipping out…

His hand manages to thread itself into her hair, holding her close as he obliges her by opening his mouth and sweetly swirling his tongue with hers. This is new. All of this is new. But God, it’s not like he hasn’t thought of this a million—no, a billion—times before. Imagined the what-ifs and planned out precisely how he’d do it.

Then she’d gone and done it all on her own. How like her. No wonder he was so hopelessly in love with her. His greedy girl took and took and took, but he was happy to carve up the pieces of his heart for her to toy with.

But now, she was giving as good as she got, and by the time they broke apart, they were both breathing hard and wanting much more from each other.

His lips trip over her jaw, kiss the edge of her lips, the tip of her nose, along the curve of her cheek as he asks, “How are your legs?”

“I’m not thinking about my legs right now, Caleb.”

“What are you thinking of?” he dares to ask.

Before he can stop her, her hand is moving and grinding into the hard length of him.

“You. All of you.”

Caleb chokes and has to will himself to be fucking calm. He starts to review plane schematics in his head, taking apart model aircraft piece by piece in his mind to keep himself from reaching down, pulling off those tiny shorts, and showing her what he wants to do with all of him and all of her.

Finally, he manages a soft, “We need to go slow.”

“Why?”

It’s so like her to question him, so he explains. “I don’t wanna lose control and scare you. I won’t.”

“You can’t scare me,” she says bravely, but Caleb is certain they both know that isn’t true.

“Tryin’ to be a gentleman here, Pip-squeak.”

“Very admirably done,” she assures him.

He’s trying and failing. He’s so hard that it’s near impossible to think of anything else, and she must have divined where his thoughts trailed to because her eyes shift to his tenting sweatpants. This time, she keeps her hands to herself.

She nibbles on her lip as she stares. “Do you wear those outside?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He huffs out a laugh. “And why is that?”

Her eyelids flutter some, but she manages to stare right into his eyes as she softly admits, “You get enough attention as it is. And… I think if anyone else saw you in those pants, I’d want to gouge their eyes out.”

He swallows thickly. “Jealous?”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“Not what I asked.”

“Yes. Very. I don’t have enough time these days to properly play the needy girlfriend to keep people away from you.”

Caleb laughs. It’s a bit strained but incredibly smug-sounding because he is smug. His girl is jealous over him, as if he’d not been driven half mad for her all these long years. Still, his inclination to make her happy wins out over his need to see this dark, daring emotion from her.

“There’s no need to be jealous,” he says while shifting on the bed, only to tuck her against him.

“Oh?”

His lips brush against the sensitive space behind her ear. “Yeah. There’s no one else in the world that makes me feel the way you do. No eye that I’m interested in catching other than yours.” And as if to emphasize his point, Caleb slowly grinds his considerable length into the soft fullness of her ass.

Part of him expects her to balk and pull away, but when she presses back hard and whimpers his name, he knows he’s a fuckin’ goner.

“Are you going to…? Right now?”

He grins. He loves that her mind is thinking of sex, but says, “No. Just… let me… feel you.”

His right arm is wrapped around her middle, absorbing her warmth while holding her in place. She doesn’t need to be told twice.

“Hold me tight.”

“God,” he groans. “I’ll never let go.”

And then, she grinds her ass into him with such purpose that the first rub nearly has him coming in his pants. Caleb bites his lip and meets her movements, but soft grunts and groans spill from his lips no matter how hard he tries to smother them.

He’s just starting to really get into it when her hand moves to her hip, and she shifts her shorts down.

“What are you…?

“I want to feel you,” she breathes, “on my skin.”

And he doesn’t need to be asked twice, half-fumbling with the drawstring of his pants as he quickly pulls the fabric down. She doesn’t look back, and maybe it’s better that way because if he can see her face, he might not be able to stop himself from taking things further than either of them wants to go right now.

He rubs his hand along the cleft of her ass, spreading some of the remaining massage oil on her skin before taking himself in hand—hard, leaking, and aching. Caleb fits his length against her, hips rolling as skin rubs against skin…

He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from swearing, grunting softly as she meets his movements with her own. Her breath is ragged, her body tight, her skin feels like it's on fire. He wants to burn up in her warmth and let her passion and desire consume him.

But Caleb is nothing if not a professional. He can manage this. Leave them both wanting more, so that there would be more—another encounter, another time together, another step closer to the connection that he knew they both craved.

One wall fell, and then another. Lingering reservations from their shared past flake away, leaving something raw, new, and achingly precious. If she could see his face, he’d not be able to hide his expression—dark, covetous, needful.

But God, doesn’t he love her? He does. He does. More than anything. More than flying. More than life itself, even. For what worth does life have if it’s not spent at her side?

Caleb rolls into his sweet girl, bodies rubbing together as the pleasure builds and builds within him. This is nothing like how it is when he’s alone. During those times, scant and infrequent as they are, his thoughts are dark, full of self-loathing even as the memory of her gets him off.

Here, the darkness is chased away by her blinding light. Her soft skin, her delicious moans, and the sweet shimmy of her ass as she pushes back and urges him on; she gets him so high he thinks he might die from the pleasure of being in this moment.

And still, she surprises him.

He’s delirious with his need for her. Reaching down, Caleb skims his fingers through the curls of her sex, only stopping when he can feel her around his fingers again. The sensation of her on his fingers, along with her ass—hot, plush, perfect—pressing up against his dick is damn near driving him mad.

But it’s when her hand joins his between her legs, clamping down and pressing ever so softly at that sweet space at the apex of her thighs, that Caleb realizes he’s not gonna be able to keep himself from coming. She takes and takes and takes, and he can’t stop himself from giving more, and more, and more.

His words are halting, rough, and needful. “Baby… I can’t hold on much longer.”

Her words are soft, satisfied, and sure. “Hold on to me, Caleb. Ahhn… show me what you’ve got.”

God. Caleb’s eyes roll back, his fingers slipping and curling inside of her as he presses tight, rubs into her ass once—twice—and moans her name as he finally, finally starts to come. Not to be outdone, his girl reaches back. This time, he lets her do what she wants. Her hand is soft, cautious, but firm as it grips the tip of his cock and rubs so good, he swears she’s got him starry-eyed.

It’s like nothing he’s experienced before. There’s coming, and then there’s coming. And when it’s with her, it’s definitely the latter. The pleasure is all-encompassing, flowing through him in such a powerful wave that it almost makes him feel like he does when he’s flying and low on oxygen. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and a surprised laugh slips from his lips as he marks that perfect ass of hers and her hand in his spend while the pleasure crests.

The moment hangs there, lingering in the low light of her room as only the sound of their breaths breaks the quiet of the night. Old fears, twisted anxieties, and the same old darkness start to creep back into his psyche, but she lets out the most delighted sigh, and the sound and sight of her completely banishes any fears from his mind.

“So… we should… Um… Do that more often?”

He huffs softly while catching his breath. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” she purrs. “But…”

“But, what?”

She lets out a soft giggle, and it’s so endearing that he finds himself falling in love with her all over again. “I think I need another shower,” she finally explains.

“Oh. Yeah.”

He doesn’t need to be told why, and he’s feeling more than a little bit pleased about it. Here he is, stretched out beside the most gorgeous girl in the whole world, and she’s been marked by him. Maybe he’s giving in to his baser inclinations with that thought, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He wants to mark other places on her body. Suck and pluck kisses into her skin, see his teeth imprinted in the meat of her thighs, and mark her so clearly that no one will ever make the mistake of thinking she’s available ever again.

But she deserves better than that. She deserves someone who can cherish her, who can love her gently and without violence. And maybe he can pretend to be that man for her. Or maybe… he’s afraid of the truth that she wants him just as darkly and deeply as he wants her.

For now, he gets out of his head and back into the moment. “Let’s go get washed off then, Pip-squeak.”

His pants fall the rest of the way off as he lethargically rolls from the bed and walks over to her side.

“How are your legs?”

“Mmm… jelly. Carry me?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Caleb tugs her shorts back into place and scoops her from the bed without much effort. “Gonna need to change the sheets,” he muses. “And your shorts.”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Yours, Pip-squeak, obviously.”

She lets out a soft laugh and pinches his chest. “You’re doing laundry tomorrow.”

“As if I didn’t already plan on that,” he drawls.

“Brat,” she pouts, though her lips soothe away some of the sting as she presses soft kisses into the line of his jaw. “Can you just be a good boy?”

“Ahh,” he chokes out, but quickly rebounds with, “Gimme a chance to make it up to you?”

Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll do it. I can be so good for you. And only you.

“Mmm, there he is.”

“Who?”

“My Caleb. Though, I have to admit… you’ve gotten pretty good at being ‘bad,’ too.”

Caleb huffs softly. He’s stuck somewhere between feeling like he might have fucked everything up… and that everything is exactly the way it needs to be. One step further. One more wall coming down. His love is a dark, heavy thing that threatens to crush anyone who gets close enough to feel its touch.

Could his darkness consume her light? Or would her need—as aching and unending as his own—blend into something fierce, frightening, and new? The past is gone. Dead even. Now, the two of them are being pulled, stretched, reshaped and reborn. And the future seems limitless, yet terrifying for all its possibilities.

However, this time, when she steps into the shower, nude and body gleaming with his spend and hers… she pulls him in after her.

~~~

Author’s Notes:

Second part, as promised! UGH I want more of these two. Starting to feel as obsessed as Caleb here. As always, thanks so much for reading! And extra hugs for anyone who left a comment. I’ve got a few other interludes planned (shower), and I’m taking requests (on tumblr), so either give this/me a follow, or check up on my tumblr :) If you enjoyed, I’d love to hear from you! Or feel free to share with a friend, if you’re lucky enough to have some Caleb-obsessed friends haha. Any mistakes belong to me and are there to keep me humble lmao.

Don’t forget! I'll be posting any updates as installments (not chapters), so be sure to sub to the series or my user name to get updates if you're reading on Ao3, otherwise, I'll be posting here too♥️🍎

Banner courtesy of cafekitsune!

[daemonizm]

Call me old-fashioned, but I'm firmly convinced the way HOTD actors service their fans is cringe and unprofessional (at least as it comes to ships). To start with, the season 2 press campaign was a veritable feast of queerbaiting and queerphishing. Then, after first 2 episodes aired and everybody saw Alicole jumpscares, O/ivia started to gush over A/icent's "delicious Catholic guilt" which sounded quite icky, to put it mildly. Then she reposted a nsfwi-ish fan art of Rh*enicent's dungeon sex on her Instagram story. Maybe I'm no fun, but I'd be weirded the fuck out id my coworker posted an x-rated picture , featuring fictional characters looking like themselves and me. I bet if O/ivia was a dude, people would have deemed him a creep. But she's a "sex symbol and LGBT+ ally"in question, so if you're grossed out, you're a misogynistic pos and a homophobe. Then there is E*an saying he's a fan of helaemond. In that interview, he wasn't even asked about it! When Ph!a and he were paired together for press, they were basically pulling an E*ma and O/ivia, interacting, grabbing each other's hands and touching each other. I admit they have much better chemistry than E*ma and O/ivia, but what's the point of giving so much attention to a ship that's never gonna become canon (I guess)? Then there is G*yle and her disgusting Instagram story in which she reposted an a/ysmond's fan comment, which was literally like "If they follow the books, she'll be going down on Aemond" with a "biting lip" emoji. Cringe as fuck and yet again, creepy and unprofessional. Worst of all, they're officially using the first two non-canon ships to promote the show, and Daemyra - a canon and main ship- is being sidelined for the sake of R*aenicent (both in press and the show itself). Baela's relationship with Jace is barely there as well, although this tragic romance which has just developing , has so much potential! Even Jace's friendship with Cregan was cut, even if it's pretty important relationship in the book and Starks are loved by the fandom. And Rhaenys and Corlys -yet another canon marriage, is done dirty, although the actors have phenomenal chemistry. I just want to hope they're not turning the A/ys & Aemond story into a beautiful romance. 🤡

Well... double-edged sword hit hotd. Hiring unknown actors has its positives, but as the hotd actors showed, it also has its negatives. Bc they can be completely unprofessional people. And in the series case is not helped by the fact that its showrunners are like amateurs themselves.

Ryan and Hess are like kids. They don't listen to others, they think they know best and on top of that their plans for the series are shifted waveringly all the time. And biased af.

Like you said, actors have cringe and problematics behavior but no one from PR tells them what they are allowed to do and what they are not.

But as for people's reactions to the actors' behavior...people these days are hypocrites who recognize only one correct path to being progressive. Incidentally, in their dictionary progressive = good person. When you disagree with their views (even they don't identify with it, but they have to pretend) you are immediately identified with misogyny, homophobia, racism, etc.

Olivia, a pretty woman in her 30s can do no wrong because that is the current narrative of society. And most importantly people are biased. It's the same with Emma. A non-binary person, even if they show time and time again that they are unprofessional and push their views. You can't criticize them for that bc they are part of lgbt community. This is insane. People should consider whether they are really going in the right direction with this behavior.

Starks, Baela, Jace, Rhaenys and Corlys are victims of what I mentioned above. Victims of biased showrunners. They had cut screen time but there was time for swimming Alicent. Make that make sense. Hotd is no longer about the civil war that destroyed the Targaryens but about two ex-bestfriend/ex-lovers( because that's what they're trying to push on us) and family( Hightowers) who had the misfortune of marrying into a terrible family (Targaryen). Poor team green!

"I just want to hope they're not turning the Alys & Aemond story into a beautiful romance"

Better not get your hopes up. If the actors want it and Ryan and Hess think it will benefit the poor greens then of course it will happen..

No rational person is working on this series.

PS. please excuse my English, I used a translator to help write this 🫣🙏🏻

[pilferingapples]

OK my random question for you to think over is— If you could schedule some bonding time between Jean Valjean and any one of Les Amis, which Ami would you choose? Who would he click with/who would help him out the most/who would be the best most helpful Buddy for him to have ??? Or would you need to pick multiple Amis?

(This may or may not be related to a future fic idea I have planned. I have asked myself this question but currently do not know the answer, so I am curious about your thoughts! You always have great Les Amis takes)

OK before I get into this, I want to be clear that I think Cosette does an AMAZING job with Valjean's emotional Everything, but (a) she's a kid (b) she's HIS kid (c) no one person, no matter how close or important, can ever supply all of another person's emotional needs, even if they're a lot less traumatized than Valjean to start (d) a major problem with Valjean is Social Isolation, which only people Besides Cosette can alleviate (e) that is just the start of the issues that Cosette can't and should never have to handle alone! So no consideration of adding Other Friends to Valjean's life should be taken as an insult from me to Cosette (and I know you wouldn't , but people get weird). Cosette is a star.

Also: I am in all of this assuming a setting/ series of events leading to Acquaintance that does right by both parties ; importantly, that means Valjean is sure, somehow, that none of these men are romantically interested in or romantically interesting to Cosette. Maybe it's post- marriage, maybe it's an AU, maybe Whatever. Valjean's not doing his Lion With a Dog routine about it.

OK THAT SAID, let's Consider:

Enjolras: if they met outside a barricade, I can see them getting along very well! Unfortunately, that's because without pressing political action or conversation be thrown at them, I can imagine them both just sitting quietly and reading or being lost in their thoughts for as long as they're hanging out. Even GIVEN a political topic, like..Valjean is not gonna argue with anything Enjolras says and Enjolras is already gonna say it and they are just...gonna continue to Agree and then go back to Quiet Reading Time. Parallel Play For The Cats. Valjean will think Enjolras is a pleasant young man, Enjolras will think Valjean is a restful older gentleman, they will go to the library at the same time every Wednesday and nod hello and read in chairs near each other and never talk. Probably exactly the kind of interaction Valjean wants, and not at all what he needs to get out of his routine.

Combeferre: a very strong option!! assuming they've gotten talking about Nearly Anything, Combeferre can find the Fun Conversational Trivia in any subject. I bet Valjean would LOVE to hear about how steam engines work and the latest discoveries about bees or rubber or tinctures of opium. Valjean might be willing to tell him Cool Gardening and Metallurgy Knowledge and Combeferre would LISTEN. Combeferre is sharp and cutting about Interests and Ideas, but shows no signs of being someone who wants to get more emotional or personal with people than they're already setting up. This could be a great Hobby Buddy friendship and that's something Valjean really needs! Potential Issues: if they DO run into the sort of conversation where they're debating ideas, Combeferre does not seem to have an Easy Mode. IDK how much Valjean would be willing to enter Debate Thunderdome about politics or social issues; I worry greatly that he would shut down in Automatic Defense System Mode. But if they can work around that, Combeferre could be so good for getting him interested in the outside world!

Prouvaire: Much as above for Combeferre, except Prouvaire is already something of a gardener, DOES have a Gentle mode for debates, AND is goth, which would surely speak to Valjean's " some alive people like to be in coffins too" soul. Also lbr we know Prouvaire is on the 420 Crew in any era and it might do Valjean some real good to get baked once in a while. Strong potential here.

Feuilly: HE'S LIKE THE SON VALJEAN MIGHT HAVE KNOWN, or the grandson really-- as I recall, we've done the math and figured out that Feuilly really might be in the right age range to be one of Valjean's nibling's kids. I don't know how much Valjean has ever considered international politics but I bet he would deeply resonate with the plight of refugees and the displaced, which after all is a lot of the real issue. And maybe from there they can even get into how this is all systemic and Valjean might start to understand how he's not Uniquely Horrible if these injustices happen to so many people!!! A Little !!! Possibly!! Either way,they can get earnest and emotional over just wanting everyone else to have a better deal than they got. Go Team Lower Class Orphans Too Good For This World !

Courfeyrac: listen Courfeyrac's a delight and all but..he's just very bourgeois student. He is. Even assuming we're in the best situation where he and Valjean are talking politics and social issues enough for Valjean to NOT just mentally write him off as Standard Student Guy, I suspect Courfeyrac's many charms are just the wrong ones here. I'm not saying they can't get along, I think Courfeyrac can probably get alone with nearly anyone,but this is gonna be one of the harder options for any real connection.

Bahorel: you know I was all ready to go on a big ramble about how this could go multiple ways until I remembered the ONE THING, THE ONLY THING that gets Valjean to really open up and talk about his past is watching a younger man make horrible life choices that could get him arrested, never mind about trying to get Valjean to open up, Valjean is gonna trauma-dump on Bahorel so hard in the first fifteen minutes of them actually hanging out. And unlike Montparnasse, Bahorel pays attention and gives a damn about other people, and he is SO ready to get into how the legal system is pure evil and screws everyone over. Hating the legal system is a major component of his personality! I had honestly not really realized it until making this post but wow this will, eventually, be So Good for Valjean's mental health. (I am perhaps being a little silly here but I do think, on consideration, that Bahorel's over the top Everything would be on balance kinda reassuring for Valjean; plus there IS the goth factor XD Bonus points if it's a Better Post-Barricades setting where Bahorel's taken in Gavroche and they can bond over Unexpected Child Acquisition)

Legle: For Legle, see Courfeyrac, I'm afraid. You KNOW I love Bossuet so very much but he speaks 90 percent in too-smart-by-half puns and references and his entire social presentation depends on knowing how to parlay a bourgeois social skillset into Endless Crash Space. He's super weird and an incredibly good guy For Real but I don't know if Valjean would put enough effort in to realize that! Like with Courfeyrac, I feel like this would just be a Polite Acquaintaceship. Open to being convinced otherwise though!

Joly: ..ok I know Joly is also Student Guy as heck, but he's also direct and enthusiastic and overtly sweet in a way that Courfeyrac and Legle aren't. I can see Valjean enjoying his company somewhat the way he enjoys Cosette's actually-- here's someone who will be cheerful and chattery about things that he, Valjean, does not really know or care about. I still don't know if they'd connect on any deeper level but I could buy Valjean actively noticing and enjoying Joly's company.

Grantaire: HAAAAAHahahahhahaAAAAAHHHAHAHAHAHAH *runs out of breath* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAAAAAA hahahaha nooooo. No. Nooooooooo. Grantaire talking to Valjean would go about like Grantaire talking to Javert in the I Mis Miniseries. Grantaire will talk! You cannot stop him unless you are named Enjolras! Valjean will nooooot care.

...Writing this up has made me reflect on what I think Valjean really needs out of a potential friend and it's - someone to do the talking - shared interests, or new interests they can be enthusiastic about while he nods ahead - a willingness/ ability to get HIM to talk at least sometimes ?? maybe?? - shared goth vibes or at least the ability to understand that sometimes u__u you just gotta be in a coffin now u__u - ABSOLUTELY MANDATORY overt disdain for The Rules this is why Fauchelevent was SO good for him but I think he also needs someone who is not in life debt to him! he needs to know he can socialize with Kind New People and Not Explode!!

....and this is a long post so I'm gonna save more Valjean rant :D I am pretty sure you and I will discuss later anyway!! Thank you for the random question!

[disastrousrecs]

it’s war show wednesday on the fic rec blog!

**

little talks

by blood_mocha_latte on Ao3 / @blood-mocha-latte

band of brothers | george luz/joe toye | post-war | rated e | 150k+ | series

**

George Luz and Joseph Toye, in five acts. From Aldbourne to Georgia; from Pennsylvania to Rhode Island.

**

**

a series rec! very exciting. i thought about recommending each part of it individually (which i may still do in the future, because this is always a joy to revisit!) but for right now, i wanted to rec the series as a whole. little talks is regarded by many as THE luztoye fic, and it’s probably one of the first ones read by most new luztoye fans. if the fandom impact doesn’t speak for itself, then i’ll say it plainly: little talks is incredible. the author commands words, characters, and dynamics in a way that i don’t see very often. it’s all presented in the most amazing vocabulary, the setting is used like a character in the piece, fitting all of the story elements together and transitioning beautifully from one place to another. i can’t recommend this fic enough!! especially if you’re new to the fandom, or new to the pairing, THIS is one of the best of the best.

favourite excerpt(s):

(considering this is a series, i’m picking one from both parts)

part 1 - when i fall asleep

Instead, he just shifted against Joe, closing his eyes and pretending he could block out anything that wasn’t in a hole in the ground and the body next to his own.

He wouldn’t be able to stay. They both knew that. Even if they could, and wouldn’t arouse any suspicion, it wouldn’t work. If not because of the radio, then because of something else. If not this, then that. George wondered if that made him a coward.

He wondered if that was because Bastogne would become fractionally less of a frozen hell if he could stay like this, pressed to Joe with his eyes closed, safe in the ground, safe away from everything else. Almost a deadly sin.

part 2 - an old voice

But Europe was far away, now, and he was returning to Georgia, and Joe was still hurt and he remembered that more than he remembered anything else before Foy. More than foxholes, or an almost false warmth, or a sense of being alone surrounded by twenty other men.

He could still feel Joe’s hands, at his back and hands and neck and forehead, if he stayed still for long enough. If he was tired enough. But that would be different, too. Almost certainly, he was sure.

**

have you read this fic? if yes, leave kudos, leave comments, give it a bookmark. if you haven't, go read it! interact!! show the author just how amazing their writing is!!

as always, if you have a rec that you’d like to share with the blog, drop it in the askbox!

[blxvdlusttxx]

Oh my god, I loved your ej x reader storyyy, loved his possessiveness

I'd love to see more ej stuffff, I just don't have any specific story idea in my mind I could send in?

Preacher's Daughter (Prologue)

And I'd love to give it to you! I'm thinking of making the preacher's daughter into a series, maybe even a book on wattpad if you guys would be interested, let me know in the comments! Here's a little teaser for what I had in mind! I'm going to try and make Y/N as little detailed as possible, but I'm thinking of making this character into an oc, so stay tuned for that eventually! The oc will likely be what the wattpad story is on, but i will make an x reader version for here!

This little teaser is set before the events of the preacher's daughter fic, basically how Jack and Y/N met. It's not the full thing and less detailed, but I thought it was cute.

Eyeless Jack x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: None really, mentions of religion (Bible) awkward teenage interactions duhh.

Request: Yes / No

Jack had always noticed her. The shy, sweet girl that always had her nose in her text books, or her bible that she carried around everywhere in her mini backpack that served as her purse.

Y/N L/N was her name, Jack never understood why he liked her. He wasn't a religious person by any means, she was just... different.

All the other girls at the college they attended to were bitchy, or slutty, or just not his type. Not that he ever really minded that, he wasn't going to be the idiot that gets a girl knocked up at a party.

He chewed at the tip of his pen, not paying attention to the teachers recap of the lecture from the day prior as he already had finished his work. Jack was always like that, he did his best to get his work done early so he'd have time to relax and do what he wanted during his free time.

He watched her as she re-read her bible for seemingly the millionth time that semester. He wondered what was so interesting about that damn book. Did she write little notes in it like she did her schoolwork? did she have certain parts highlighted with those pastel highlighters she loved to use?

His mind drifted to her appearance, her H/L H/C hair sat perfectly, her white turtle neck blouse pressed with no wrinkles tucked neatly under her mid-calf length blue dress with white flowers printed on the soft looking fabric. Sat in between her collar bones, was always that silver cross necklace he'd never seen her without. She always looked so... pristine, flawless, perfect even.

His thoughts were interrupted when the teacher called for everyone's attention for new things they were going to be taught. He huffed and pulled out his note book, wishing that class would end sooner.

When the bell rang, three girls he'd seen around before, his roommates girlfriend, one of her friends, and a girl named Jenny, all ran up to Y/N. Bubbling and Gossiping about their latest excursions at the party they had went to the night before. They wondered off out of the class, but before Jack followed them out he noticed that bible, sitting abandoned at Y/N's desk.

"Must've forgot to grab it." he thought to himself before weaving through the desks and picking it up, carefully tucking it into his bag. He sighed and weaved his way back through the desks, exiting the class door and through the mass of students in the hall. It certainly wasn't an insane amount of people, but enough for the halls to be comparable to a zoo.

He eventually spotted the three girls, he watched as Y/N's two friends bided their goodbye's and headed to their respective classes. He moved quickly towards her, and tapped her on the shoulder, causing the girl to jump startledly.

"Oh, Hi jack." Y/n says, a warm smile on her face.

"Hey, y/n." He smiled back at her, starring into her e/c eyes for a moment before clearing his throat and reaching into his bag.

"You left this on your desk, I figured you wouldn't want to lose it." he hummed, holding out the small bible to her. Her eyes lit up in confusion before realizing she had forgotten it.

"Thank you, my lord I didn't even realize." She gently took it from his hands, fingers lingering on his for a little too long.

She swings her bag over her shoulders before unzipping it, carefully sliding the bible into its rightful place amongst the clutter in the small bag.

"It's no problem" Jack smiles, before adjusting his own bag.

"So um, can I walk you to class?" He asks, nodding his head in the direction of the classroom down the hallway.

She smiles and nods. The two walk down the hallway and bid their goodbyes before she walks in, Jack watching her from the doorway.

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic Cyber Revolution, Entry 68: A Single Flower Petal

''A single piece of flower petal is swaying by my side right now. 'It was an erroneous love,' I'd not want to think that way.''

– Hitohira no Hanabira (A Single Flower Petal) by Stereopony (Bleach)

xXxXxXx

Amy swung the Piko Piko Hammer, forcing Starline to defend himself. He had the Power Core active, but what use was it when he was dealing with a pink hedgehog who could knock down robots with her sheer strength alone, no power-ups required. He backed away, startled when he saw the crack in the ground just where he was a moment ago.

This is not good… I need to get Surge and Kit and escape, or else I'll end up dead.

Starline switched from Power to Fly, getting out of Amy's range, but she ran up to Minami, who lowered her hands to launch her up, leaving Starline baffled. He quickly switched from Fly to Speed, managing to dodge Amy's attack just before she could land a hit on him. The purple and blue blur rushed past them, with Minami and Amy feeling displeased that he got away.

Meanwhile, Starline opened a holographic screen, pressing a button on it that allowed him to enter the AR Field, as well as pulling Surge and Kit right into it. The AR Field itself looked like a replica of the street he was standing on, but he couldn't interact at all with any humans or ARNavs that passed through it, rendering them invisible to any onlookers.

That's when he allowed himself to breathe in relief, pressing his hand against his chest and feeling his heart pounding. Still alive… I'm still alive…

He then rushed down the street, trying to find Surge and Kit. It appeared that both had already reunited at the overpass, and to Starline's dismay, both of them, Surge in particular, were furious. Starline realized that he was in danger, but before he could escape, Surge grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall.

''You have a lot to explain, Doc!'' Surge growled, leaving Starline shaking in fear. ''You told me and Kit that we were created to surpass Sonic and Tails! If that's so, why couldn't we beat them?!''

''T-There are s-several reasons…'' Starline said, feeling an electric charge through his body, leaving him crying out in pain. ''Y-You've never been in a battle like this. Even with the simulations, I couldn't replicate the same experience- agh!''

Starline was once again rammed into the wall by Surge, who left him to slide down on the ground. The platypus was dazed, searing pain spreading through his body, while Surge just pressed her fist into her palm as she glared at him, electricity once again crackling around her.

''So, you're saying that we're weaker than Sonic and his friends…'' Surge growled.

''Not weaker…'' Starline grumbled, trying to get up. ''You're just… less experienced.''

Surge looked like she was about to clock him in the beak, but Kit stepped out. ''You have mentioned in one of your video logs that Team Neos had been on several adventures at this point.''

''Indeed. The most recent major adventure that I have witnessed was their battle against Perfect Chaos. While they needed the Chaos Emeralds to win, they have still managed to defeat a group of well-crafted E-100 Series robots, various other Badniks, handle Dr. Eggman's Enforcers, Ferra and Metal Sonic, gather the Chaos Emeralds and fight Chaos on almost even ground in all of his forms. Not to mention the fact that they have access to Chaos Surge, which significantly powers them up,'' Starline replied, humming in thought. ''Perhaps, I should've put you through a similar situation…''

''No!'' Both Starline and Kit were stunned by Surge's cry of protest. She clenched her fists, giving both of them a glare, gritting her teeth. ''I've had enough of them! No more experiments, no more simulations! Instead, Kit and I will do what we want!'' Starline was taken aback, but Kit nodded in firm determination. He wasn't going to let Surge down, no matter what. Surge then stepped towards Starline, pointing her finger at him. ''As for your Doc, if I ever see you again, I'll fry you until only your skeleton is left!''

Starline backed away, staring at Surge as she turned on her heel and left the AR Field, Kit following her closely. Starline just stared, not realizing just how shallow his breaths were. He was still distressed, but that may have been because of just how close he was coming to dying. However, now that Surge and Kit were gone, he was left all alone within the AR Field. This is when he finally allowed himself to breathe normally.

His plan was completely shattered, but he survived. He was still alive. Starline inhaled deeply, combing through his hair as he tried to calm himself down.

''P-Perhaps, the Doctor was right… I shouldn't repeat the same mistakes…'' Starline shook his head, clenching his fists. ''What am I talking about?! I won't repeat my mistakes! As a matter of fact, this is the most desirable outcome given the circumstances. Surge and Kit still hate Sonic and Tails, meaning that they will continue fight them.'' Starline smirked, the sinister smile spreading across his beak. ''Once they gather enough experience, they will defeat them, and even if they refuse to work with me, I will find a way to take control over them.''

xXx

''So, that's Surge and Kit's deal,'' Sonic said, him, Tails and Amy having just listened to an explanation about Surge and Kit's origins from Lucas, Warren and Minami. They were currently sitting at a small outdoor café in Westoru, talking about what had happened.

''What Starline did is really messed up,'' Tails commented.

''What should we do with them? What if they hurt innocent people?'' Amy asked worriedly.

''I don't think they will go after innocent people,'' Lucas said, taking note of the surprised looks everyone gave him, save for Sonic.

''Surge had told me that she wants to burn down the everyone and everyone, but going by your response, you already know that she won't take that path,'' Sonic said, leaning back in his seat as he took a sip of the soda.

''Surge and Kit have been programmed to defeat and replace you and Tails, so they will mainly focus on that. In addition, I believe that they are capable of change, but even then, it won't be easy,'' Lucas explained. ''I suppose that we could talk to them, but…''

''I don't think Sonic nor Tails should talk to Surge and Kit,'' Amy suddenly said, gazing at the two. ''If you talk to them, they'll only get more agitated. I think someone else should talk to them.''

''Let me guess, you'll volunteer yourself to talk to them,'' Sonic said in a knowing tone. He had already expected that Amy would want to do that. She was the type of person who believed that if people opened their heart, even a little, it would allow for finding a solution to whatever problem they had. She was kind and compassionate, knowing the right thing to say, and Sonic was happy to haver her as his friend, even if he couldn't share in her enthusiasm, since he wasn't the type to speak his mind so easily.

''You better believe it!'' Amy said, giving him a confident wink. ''I'm sure that if I and Minami talk to them, we would come to some kind of solution for this situation.''

''Surge and Kit at this point wouldn't trust anyone but themselves, so it won't be easy,'' Warren noted, with Minami just giving him a dismissive wave, before giving him a confident look that mirrored Amy's.

''That's what makes it a challenge,'' Minami said, putting her hands together and crossing her middle and index finger, with Amy performing the same hand seal. ''Don't forget, you are talking to the people who mastered the art of Talk no Jutsu.''

Both Warren and Lucas gave her an awkward smile, while Sonic and Tails remained slightly confused. Warren then added, ''I don't know if I should be impressed or afraid.''

Minami and Amy exchanged glances, both giggling softly.

xXx

''What should we do now, Surge?'' Kit asked, having finished replenishing filling up his Hydro Pack with water at the water fountain in a park in Westoru. Surge was sitting on a nearby bench, still looking frustrated. Sure, they had abandoned Starline, but they were now on their own. They could return to Egg Base Sigma and kick Starline out, but neither of them wanted to return to their awful place. They were also aware of Starline's previous base in Souto, and since the platypus wasn't using it, they could take over it as their own base. That was obviously one solution, but it wasn't what they needed.

Surge knew that if she wanted some peace of mind, she would have to confront Sonic again and win on her own terms. Unfortunately, Starline's words echoed in her mind, reminding her of the fact that she was still quite inexperienced, and that Sonic had also access to Chaos Surge, so even if she overpowered him on her own, he could easily use that power to defeat her again. The thought of her being unable to defeat Sonic at all enraged her, making her realize she'd be trapped in an endless cycle if she didn't figure something out. But, what was she supposed to do?

''Surge?'' Kit stared at Surge with concern. Even though he knew he had been programmed by Starline to serve Surge's every whim, he was genuinely worried about her and wanted to make her happy. Surge was all he had and he felt lost in this wide world without her. He wanted to be by her side no matter what. He gave her a determined look. ''Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it. That way, you'll be happy.''

Surge looked up at him, her mouth opening a little as if she was about to say something, but she then closed it, nodding in acknowledgement. To Kit's surprise, Surge ruffled his hair, leaving it frazzled, and grinned. ''Heh, of course you'd do that. It's us against the world, after all, and we will make sure that everyone respects us.''

''That sounds great!'' Kit said happily.

''Hey!''

Surge and Kit were surprised to hear someone calling out for them, only to be surprised when a pink hedgehog in a sports outfit and a human teenager approached them. Both felt tense, wondering who these two were and what they wanted from them. They did have an assumption that both of them were Sonic's friends, leaving them unsettled.

''You're Surge and Kit, right? My name is Amy Rose,'' Amy introduced herself, then pointed at Minami. ''This is Minami Kusakabe, my partner.''

''Why should we care? You're friends with that Faker, aren't you?'' Surge interrupted, giving them a snide look.

''I'm pretty sure that there is only one person who is allowed to call Sonic 'Faker','' Minami remarked. Surge and Kit were a bit annoyed that Minami was talking to them in such a casual tone.

''What do you want?!'' Surge growled, electricity crackling in her hands. ''Because if you don't leave, I'm going to fry both of you.''

''We just want to talk to both of you, nothing else,'' Amy said, holding up her hands defensively. Surge and Kit gave her an irked look, clearly not in the mood to talk to someone who was friends with Sonic and Tails. Amy was wondering what to tell them to gain even a fraction of their trust, when Minami took over.

''How about we make a deal? You talk to us, and we give you free sweets, as much as you can eat,'' Minami suggested. Surge rose an eyebrow.

''Tch, I'm not hungry…'' Surge responded, only for her stomach to growl right in that moment, leaving her slightly embarrassed. She then shot a glare at Minami. ''Don't you dare to say anything!''

''We didn't eat anything since this morning and it's past noon,'' Kit pointed out. Surge hated to admit it, but Kit was correct. She was actually quite hungry, and the battle against Sonic drained her. She needed some good food to fuel up before she could even battle Sonic again.

''Fine,'' Surge conceded, placing her hands on her hips. ''As long as the food is free and tastes good. Otherwise, I'm not saying anything.''

''Don't worry, I know just the place,'' Minami replied. ''Follow me!''

Minami took note of Amy's lips quirking upwards, with the pink hedgehog being well aware where she was leading them. Both of them were also relieved at how easy it was to convince Surge and Kit to agree to their terms, with Minami figuring that, even if they were Sonic and Tails' friends, the two wouldn't be as hostile to them. Not only that, but offering them what was basically an all-you-can-eat buffet of free sweets was basically an incredibly tempting peace offering, because she doubted that anyone could resist the offer of free food. Minami had to admit to herself that this was something she had actually planned out, as she knew that Surge and Kit wouldn't want to talk to her and Amy regardless of what they said.

This move may have been quite devious to an outsider, but Minami didn't mind it. She may have been a kind and sweet person, or at least presented herself as one, but she could also be very shrewd and manipulative if she wanted to gain something. There were many times where she played up a sweet and innocent act to get out of trouble, or even used carefully crafted sentences to sway people to her side, especially when she was younger and had her cuteness as a child on her side. As she got older, she understood that the world, and therefore humans, were more complex, and that she had to adapt to her situation, learning how to read people and finding the easiest ways to make them do or say what she wanted. In this case, she wanted to know just how much of a danger Surge and Kit posed to everyone, as well as if there was a way to sway their opinion in regards to Sonic and Tails.

When she told that to Amy, the pink hedgehog could only sigh and remark that Team Neos was lucky that Minami wasn't their opponent, because she was quite troublesome when she acted like that. Minami simply chimed in how this was the reason why Makoto referred to her as a ''Menace to Society''. She also added that she wasn't interested in being a villainess, and to Amy's chagrin, remarked that, despite that, she was certain that she would make a good villainess in a shoujo novel. All Amy could do at that point is to facepalm, since Minami missed the point entirely.

It didn't take them too long until they reached their destination, Wave Patissierie. Surge and Kit were still a little doubtful, wondering if the free food would really be worth it, but they decided not to waste their opportunity, and followed Minami and Amy inside. There, they were met by a college student and his partner, a penguin ARNav, both dressed in the appropriate uniform that consisted of a white chef's coat and black trousers with the establishment's name printed on it.

''Welcome to Wave Patissierie! How may- oh, it's you two!'' The college student, who had greeted them, gave Minami and Amy a surprised, but pleased look.

''Hi, Daiki! Hey, Kori! I hope we're not bothering you,'' Minami replied.

''No you're not. We're having a slow day today,'' Kori replied, pointing at the empty patissierie. ''Do you two want the usual?''

''Well, we actually have a request…'' Minami said, trailing off. She and Amy turned to Surge and Kit, who were staring at the displays and almost drooling at the sight of so many cakes laid out, ready to be eaten. The cakes were almost sparkling, some looking simple, some being elaborately decorated with ingredients ranging from fruits, sprinkles, decorations made from sugar, flowers and so on. It appeared that seeing all of the food for themselves made them feel even hungrier than they actually were.

''Here.'' Amy approached the two, giving them plates. ''You pick up the sweets you like and then go to the counter to pay for them. Of course, since Minami said it'll be free for you, she'll be paying for it.'' Amy glanced at Minami, giving her a sly look, with the teenager just sighing, well aware that her wallet is gonna suffer. ''They also serve drinks here, and once you're done you can go to the tables over there to eat.''

Surge grinned, immediately walking up to the displays and picking up cakes she liked. Kit held back a bit, observing the ones Surge picked and looking a little lost on what to do. He had absolutely no idea which cake to choose, wishing that Surge had told him which one to pick. Not to mention, this was his first time seeing such a variety of sweets, as Starline never allowed them to eat anything that was supposedly unhealthy. He didn't know what those cakes tasted like and he had no opinion of his own aside from agreeing with Surge.

It appeared that Amy noticed his dilemma, well aware that Kit was not just Surge's support unit, but also entirely dependent on her for almost every decision. From Amy's perspective, this was an incredibly toxic relationship, but if she interfered with it in any way that upset them, she'd make herself a target. Fortunately, she had already figured out what the correct approach would be.

''Hey, Surge, is this your and Kit's first time at a patissierie?'' she asked. Surge rose an eyebrow, a little confused by the question.

''Yeah, of course it is,'' she said.

''Ah, that explains why Kit has a little trouble choosing what he wants,'' Amy said, deciding to employ the tactics she had learned from Minami. It appeared that Surge just now noticed that Kit was just standing there, lost and anxious. ''How about this? He picks some of the cakes you didn't choose and you both share plates to see which cakes taste the best. I'll even help with the recommend you some.''

''I guess we could do that,'' Surge muttered, but then flashed a grin. ''However, I'm sure that Kit will like what I picked more than what you recommend.''

''Of course I would,'' Kit immediately agreed, with both taking note of Amy's sweet smile and feeling a little puzzled. Amy didn't respond, instead feeling relieved that Kit looked much more at ease as she was recommending him which cakes to pick. By the end of it, they had two full plates of almost every single cake and sweet the patissierie had to offer. Minami was internally crying when she realized just how much she will have to pay, but she figured that it would be worth it the sacrifice. Besides, she still had one more ace up in her sleeve left.

''Is that all?'' Daiki asked as he checked the bill over again and giving Minami a questioning look, as he too understood that they went overboard.

''Y-Yeah, I'll be paying all of it,'' Minami replied, praying to whichever deity to bless her with the outcome she desired the most. It appeared that they heard her, because in that moment, Minami's mother, Sara Kusakabe, exited the kitchen with a freshly backed batch of cupcakes. ''Hey, Mum!''

''Wait, her mother owns this place?'' Surge and Kit gave Amy a surprised look.

''She used to work at a restaurant until she recently opened this place,'' Amy explained. ''This is also why we can recommend it, because we know all the food will taste excellent.''

''It is nice to see you… Oh, is this what you bought?'' Sara stared at the bill in surprise. Normally, she had an agreement with Minami and Amy that they would get a free cake and drink as she didn't want her daughter to pay for anything, so this took her off guard.

''Ah, I as actually paying for someone else…'' Minami explained in a sheepish tone, with Sara taking note of Surge and Kit. ''But, don't worry. I can pay for it in full. After all, I should be supporting the family business.''

''Supporting the family business with the money I gave you as an allowance,'' Sara pointed out, much to Minami's grief and Amy's amusement. ''Honestly, I'd rather that you don't have to pay for anything, but this is a lot…'' Sara replied. As much as she loved her daughter and would want to give her anything she desired, she also needed to think of her business and expenses.

''Well, if that's so, how about I pay half the price as a family discount?'' Minami suggested. Sara hummed.

''You'll pay half the price and you'll be handing out leaflets to promote the store,'' she said.

''Deal,'' Minami said, internally sighing in relief. She could live with that offer.

''Maybe we shouldn't have taken so many cakes,'' Kit said, glancing at Surge as they observed the whole exchange.

''Hey, they were the ones offering us free food. It's not their fault they didn't tell us to limit ourselves, and even then, I wouldn't care,'' Surge replied in a haughty tone. They found a table, and the moment they sat down, Surge and Kit took a bite of one of the chocolate roulade, they were blown away by the taste, having never eaten something like that before.

''This tastes amazing!'' Kit said, eyes sparking in awe.

''This is-'' Surge took note of Amy giving her a curious look, and quickly huffed, not wanting to look overly excited. ''I guess it's fine.''

''It's nice to hear that you like it,'' Amy responded in a chipper tone. Surge furrowed a brow, not sure what to make of it, but then continued to eat. Minami soon joined them, sitting down at the table with a defeated look.

''My wallet will hate me for this,'' she muttered, then glanced at the others. ''So, how's the food?''

''It's good,'' Surge replied in aloof tone, acting as if she wasn't enjoying every bite of the cake she ate.

''It's good,'' Kit said, imitating her, although he was having a bit of a harder time hiding his feelings about the food, perking up whenever he tasted his portion.

''I think that's a high praise coming from both of you,'' Minami said, surprising Surge and Kit, who weren't exactly used to this kind of treatment. ''Since you like the food, how about you uphold your end of the deal?''

''Ugh…'' Surge just gave her an unwilling look, having hoped that she wouldn't have to deal with this. Admittedly, she could just dine and dash, but she was also curious to an extend in regard to what they wanted to know. ''Fine. What do you want to talk about?''

''We were just curious about how you're handling being here,'' Amy said.

''Why would you want to know that?'' Surge asked, giving her a suspicious look.

''Because you were dealing with Starline, and I can only imagine how awfully he had treated you,'' Amy responded.

''Starline lied to us,'' Kit said, giving Amy a dark look. ''He lied to us about everything.''

''We are not going back to him,'' Surge added. ''If the Doc ever dares to get into our way, we'll make sure it'll be the last thing he does.''

''That is a relief to hear,'' Amy said, leaving the two puzzled. ''I'm sure you'll be doing much better without him.''

''Why would you care? You don't even know what we're planning on doing. We could even be worse than Starline,'' Surge pointed out. ''We attacked your friends, and you're acting like nothing happened.''

''First of all, wasn't Starline the one who planted the idea of you attacking Sonic and Tails in your head?'' Amy asked, catching Surge and Kit off guard. She was correct, but it's not as if they wanted to acknowledge it.

''S-So, what?!'' Surge protested, getting angrier and angrier. ''Even though we left Starline, we don't plan on giving up destroying those two!''

''Yeah!'' Kit agreed, being just as determined as Surge was.

''I see…'' Amy muttered, with Surge just staring at her, baffled.

''How can you be so calm when I just declared that nothing would stop us from destroying your friends?'' Surge asked.

''The issue is, we're kinda getting used to getting those threats,'' Minami said in a calm, almost bored tone as she leaned against her table, supporting her chin with her hand.

''You got used to threats?'' Kit asked, stunned.

''We've ran into so many people who have threatened us and our friends in some way that we could make a Bingo card out of it for future encounters,'' Minami explained in a matter-of-fact tone. ''There's Ferra and Metal Sonic, Dr. Eggman and his Badnik Army, Shadow, Dr. Starline, Toshiro and Mephiles, other Irregulars and even Irregular Hunters, the military organization ARMS, Chaos, Rough and Tumble – although these guys were more of a joke – the pirates we encountered at the Surya Empire… All of them were a threat in some way, some of which managed to cause more damage than the others. In fact, Metal Sonic almost managed to kill Sonic and let him go just because he wanted to have another confrontation with him later on.''

Surge and Kit were both stunned to hear that. Starline hadn't told them about any previous threats Team Neos had to deal with, and they assumed that it would be easy for them to handle the mission they were given, but this went beyond their expectations. Clearly, they weren't even on the radar as Sonic's opponents, leaving them both in dismay.

''Aghrr, then how should I prove myself as Sonic's enemy if I'm not even able to land a scratch on him!'' Surge shouted in frustration, clutching her head with both of her hands, with Kit giving her a look of concern.

''Starline really left you with no choice, did he?'' Amy asked, her worried and sympathetic tone drawing Surge and Kit's attention.

''It's not just Starline, it's whoever decided that we should only exist to be Sonic's opponents!'' Surge growled, pointing at Amy accusingly. ''You can do whatever you want, but we can only do one thing!''

''Do you really have to?'' Amy asked, her tone calm, despite the threat of Surge electrocuting her.

''We don't have any other directives,'' Kit replied in a cold tone, glaring at Amy for making Surge upset. Amy hummed in thought.

''You know, maybe I could help you with finding a different directive,'' Amy suggested, surprising the two.

''How?'' Surge gave her a baffled look.

''Do you guys want me to tell your fortune?'' Amy asked with a smile, with data particles appearing in her hands, turning inot a stack of fortune cards. ''I used to work as a fortune teller in Sentoraru before I have met Minami, and even before that, I wanted to help people by telling them their fortune.'' Amy's gaze lowered as a melancholic look appeared on her expression. ''Unfortunately, the people who asked me about their fortune called me a jinx because in most cases, something bad would happen to them and they would blame me for all of their misfortunes, even if I had nothing to do with them.'' Amy then gave them a determined look, clenching her fists and fist-pumping. ''However, that won't stop me from helping people, no matter how badly they treat me.'' She gave Surge and Kit a sincere gaze. ''That's why I also want to help you two live a happy life. You've been wronged in many ways.''

''Tch, you're far too optimistic,'' Surge said in a dismissive tone, waving her hand. ''What if the kind of life we want to live doesn't fit what you imagined?''

''I know I can't stop you from doing what you want, but if you need another opinion, I'll be there for you,'' Amy assured her. ''If it involves fighting Sonic, that's something I'll leave to him.''

''You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend,'' Surge said, leaving Amy stunned.

''Wh-What?''

''Starline had taken the time to tell us all about your team, even though he mainly focused on Sonic and Tails, and one of the things he had told us that you're obsessed with Sonic and can act like a crazy fangirl,'' Kit added helpfully, only for him and Surge to be surprised when Amy frowned. They certainly didn't expect her to change her mood so quickly.

''That's a lie!'' Amy huffed. ''I don't know where he got that-'' Minami coughed. ''But I can assure you that I'm not obsessed with Sonic. We are simply good friends and teammates.'' She then grumbled under her breath. ''Besides, I'm fairly certain that he has a crush on someone else, but I don't have any evidence…''

''So, this is just another thing Starline lied to us about,'' Kit concluded, with Surge letting out a huff.

''Why am I not surprised anymore?'' she grumbled, blink in surprise when she saw Amy holding up a fork with a piece of strawberry shortcake to her, leaving Surge a little flustered. ''H-Hey, you don't have to shove that into my mouth!''

''You kind of stopped eating, so I was just wondering if you'd want to try my favorite type cake,'' Amy said, then pouted. ''I did ask Sonic what he thought about it, but he said it sucks. I think he was just messing with me-''

She was startled when Surge suddenly grabbed the fork and ate the offered cake, then gave Amy a haughty look. ''I don't know what Sonic was thinking, but this is great.''

''Thanks!'' Amy replied happily, while Surge just gave her a satisfied smirk, folding her arms across her chest.

''This just shows how much your so-called friend doesn't know what a good cake tastes like, proving that I'm the superior judge,'' Surge boasted, pointing with her thumb at herself.

''That's something we can agree on,'' Amy replied, with Kit also reaching for the strawberry shortcake.

''So, have you found a cake that you like?'' Minami asked him, leaving Kit a bit startled by the question.

''I… I don't know. All of them taste good and I…'' Kit replied, falling silent. Suddenly, he pressed his hands against his head, as if having a headache. ''I-I don't- know-''

''H-Hey, if you can't decide yet, you can always make your decision later on,'' Minami assured him, but Kit was still worried. Minami was also quite concerned, as she knew that it would be hard to help him be independent, but even the smallest step in the right direction would be enough.

''So, do you guys want me to read your fortune or…?'' Amy trailed off. Kit immediately looked at Surge for guidance. Surge stared at Amy for moment, then shook her head.

''I don't need any fortune cards to tell me what to do,'' she said in a serious tone.

''M-Me neither,'' Kit chimed in. Amy just nodded in understanding.

''That's fine. In fact I believe this is the best way to determine your own fortune,'' Amy said, then added in a more firm tone. ''I do have one more request.''

''What is it?'' Surge asked.

''If you're fine with this idea, may I suggest that you first try to experience living on your own in Neos City, away from Starline's influence. I believe that experiencing life for yourselves without having to follow the directive you were given would help you decide what you want to do next,'' Amy suggested. Surge's gaze fell. She had to admit that that wasn't such a bad idea, but she also wasn't sure what exactly living on their own would entail. It was quite a frightening thought, as she had no idea how to live for herself. Amy took note of her silence, adding, ''If you need help, I'd be glad-''

''I don't need help!'' Surge snapped, pointing at herself. ''Kit and I can do whatever we want and we don't need your help!''

To her surprise, Amy just gave her a sweet and encouraging smile. ''Then, I sincerely hope both of you will find happiness.''

Surge was silent, only to huff again, getting up. ''We're leaving.''

Kit gave her a confused look. ''But, we didn't finish eating…''

''We can pack those up,'' Surge said, with Kit getting up and following her. Kori, who had noticed them stopping eating, quickly came over with a box, packing up the remaining cakes. Surge turned to Amy, her eyes narrowing.

''I also have a suggestion for you,'' Surge said, with Amy giving her a curious look. ''Don't help people who look down on you. I hate these kinds of people and I think they should get beaten up for acting so arrogant.''

''Eh… I'll keep that in mind,'' Amy quickly replied, stunned by the advice, and then asked her directly, ''Do you look down on me?''

Surge took a moment to look back at her, but didn't answer, acting as if she didn't hear the question, and leaving with Kit, who held the box with the remaining cakes. Amy took a deep breath, turning to Minami.

''What do you think? How did this go?'' she asked.

''Honestly, I think it went well,'' Minami answered. ''Of course, it is not ideal, since the best outcome would for them to have a peaceful life without being burdened by the past, but we can't do much besides keeping an eye on them and offer guidance. What do you think?''

''I think that Surge and Kit would be able to find their own place here, but I don't think they will stop finding a way to fight Sonic and Tails,'' Amy said. ''We can only speculate just how deep their programing goes, but I think we should keep an eye on them.''

xXx

''Why didn't you answer Amy's question?'' Kit asked curiously, walking behind Surge as he held onto the box. Surge stopped walking for a moment, only to huff in annoyance.

''That's because it was a stupid question,'' Surge answered in a dismissive tone. Kit was confused, wondering why Surge would call that question stupid, but decided not to pursue the matter, since Surge didn't care about it either. Surge, on the other hand, wondered why Amy asked her that. Did she really care so much about her opinion? Feeling weird about the whole situation, Surge shook her head, deciding not to think about it. ''Anyways, I guess we could try out just living for a while.'' She then grinned. ''But, that doesn't mean that we won't cause any trouble for Sonic and Tails.''

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[chicanoartmovement]

CHICANO ART MOVEMENT visits: Hollywood Bowl 2024

(Hollywood Bowl hosting the Los Angeles stop of the Caifanes & Café Tacvba - North America Tour 2024)

After our library field trip, we traveled to Hollywood Boulevard for some lunch & window shopping.

(Detailed view of official Netflix’s “Wednesday” series merchandise)

Inside the Netflix Store on Hollywood Blvd., we enjoyed the interactive modules from their most popular shows on that streaming platform. Anita added official Wednesday series merchandise to her personal collection.

(Clockwise: Sheila E. -recording, Diana Ross - recording, Gustavo Dudamel - live performance, and James Cameron - motion pictures)

Outside on the boulevard, we snapped some pictures of well known individuals and their respective Hollywood Walk of Fame Stars. 

(View of Hollywood Bowl marquee announcing the performance of Caifanes & Café Tacvba)

Via LiveNation media press release: “In an unprecedented collaboration, two legendary Mexican bands, Caifanes and Café Tacvba, are set to embark on their first-ever joint tour in the United States. This historic musical journey promises fans an unforgettable experience as the two groups come together to celebrate their legacies and showcase the power of Mexican rock on an international stage.”

(Café Tacvba singing an updated version of their musical hit “Ingrata” on the Hollywood Bowl venue)First to take the stage was Café Tacvba who had the crowd engaged with their musical performance, from the beginning of “María” to the last cord of “Ingrata/Ingrato.”

(View of the members from Café Tacvba at their only LA stop of their joint tour 2024)

Café Tacvba giving gracias to their fantastic fans throughout their set.

(View of Caifanes members with Saul, lead vocals, singing with Meme of Café Tacvba)

Caifanes played their hits and even invited Café Tacvba member Meme to sing as a duet on their song “Viento.”

(View of Caifanes saying goodbye & thanks to the crowd at the Hollywood Bowl)

Closing out the concert at the famous Hollywood Bowl stage was: the legendary band Caifanes - a band on Anita’s bucket list to view en vivo y en directo.

P.S. Caifanes chisme: they will be at the Honda Center of Anaheim in November 2024.