#but u enunciate it Exactly

[deadpoolsmom]

(tags via @myargentavislove11)

“I want you to kill me.”

[feral4daryl]

need a part 2 of sweet scent with pervy daryl trying to explain it to you but you couldn't get it cuz you'd never done anything like it so he says he's gonna show you how good it feels and has to muffle your screams so no one in the house hears you as his cock practically splits your tiny cunt in half and he uses his thumb to rub ur clit to try and make u relax.........

I'm crazy but I'm free

masterlist and other infos || MDNI

sweet scent pt2.

perv!daryl x innocent!fem!reader

summary: after getting caught sniffing your panties by you, daryl persuades you into giving your precious virginity away to him while your dad's just in the next room.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl's is in late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18 [or older, it's up to you]), 18+ smut, praising, dubcon? (reader lacks enthusiastic consent at first and daryl has to do some convincing), panty gagging, p-in-v, blowjobs, cunnilingus, masturbation, manipulation, petnames, daddy kink, orgasm denial, mentions of dumbification, mentions of degradation.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: the following content contains some extreme fetishes and kinks that some readers might find disturbing, so if you're not comfortable with any of those, please do not proceed. click here to read part 1.

<previous chapter>

[...] His movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. He sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. He opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

Then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

You. Standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

"U-uncle Daryl?"

---

Shit.

You definitely weren't what Daryl expected to see when he opened his eyes, the remains of his freshly busted nut all over his hand and his cock out, fully on display. For a good 5 seconds, he just freezed, completely unsure of what to do. But then, it hit him. He freaked out.

His eyes got as big as they possibly could and he immediately pulled his cock in his pants back again, clumsily trying to regain his composure, taking a little longer than usual due to his nervousness. Meanwhile, you just stood there with an unreadable expression. You didn't look exactly shocked, or angry, or anything like it. You looked strangely curious, with your head slightly tilted to the side.

Daryl shook his hand to get rid of some of his essence that was still sticking to it and then rubbed it on the side of his pants, on the hip area. Still not capable of looking you in the eyes, he quickly glanced at your frame and finally broke the awkward silence.

“Y/N? W-What'r'ya doin' here?” Stuttering was very unusual for Daryl, considering that although he was a man of very few words, he was always very direct and precise with them. Maybe playing it cool as if you hadn't just caught him in the act was the way out of that unpleasant situation.

“Well...” You let out a small chuckle and took a step closer to him. “This is my room.” His awkward smile immediately faded away.

“Oh, uh... I was jus’...” He looked around the room, searching for anything to use as an excuse for being there. But before he could start, you interrupted him.

“I didn't leave with the others, daddy told me to stay here to take care of you. He's in his room.” Your sweet girly voice had a way of calming Daryl, making him a bit more relaxed despite the current scenario and the shame he was feeling. But at the same time, just hearing you enunciate that one little word 'daddy' had him taking a deep breath to control his urges and not have another erection right there and then. You said that so innocently, because, well, it was in fact innocent since you referred to your actual father Hershel, but still, Daryl's twisted mind made it sound suggestive in his head.

“Take care'a me?” He pondered. Daryl wondered why your reaction was so calm considering what you had just witnessed. Maybe you didn't see much.

“You know, somebody's gotta change your bandage.” You smiled and pointed to his head that still had the bandage around it. “Actually, can you step to the side a bit? So I can...” You gestured to the dressing table behind him. He didn't say anything and just did as you said, moving to the side a little so you could approach the piece of furniture. In that moment, Daryl was the definition of what they call a standoffish.

“I was expecting to find you in your bed, resting. As you should, uncle Daryl.” Your voice carried a hint of playfulness along with a sincere worry. But the way you called him uncle for the second time that day gave him mixed sensations. He wasn't sure if he was aroused or weirded out by it. Or both.

You extended your hand, meaning to pull the drawer open to collect the items needed to change his bandage, which included the gauze, antiseptic wipes, medical tapes, sterile dressing and other kinds of medical stuff your dad had taught you how to handle, but you had to stop your hand midway when you noticed a white slimy thing dripping down the furnishing.

He followed your eyes, noticing how stared at the liquid. The farmer's sweet young daughter had just noticed the results of Daryl's arousal while it coated the dressing table. His mind started rushing with apprehension, you could tell your dad and everyone else how much of a perverted old man Daryl actually was, and he could be kicked out of the group, being left alone in the woods to fend for himself. It's not that he wasn't capable to make it on his own, but his family was important to him, he didn't wanna lose them over that type of thing that could change the way they looked at him forever.

“What's this?” You bended your knees a little, leaning forward and squinting your eyes to take a better look at the unknown substance. Now, you had completely forgotten the reason why you came into that room that was changing his bandage. Daryl lifted one of his eyebrows out of confusion. Did you really not know what that was? If that was the case, it kind of made sense.

Of course. Living on a farm far from the city, you had a close-knit relationship with your family in a way that they were pretty much all the people you would interact with. You had never had boyfriends, or kissed, or anything remotely romantic like that due to your dad's overprotectiveness, after all, you were his youngest daughter. All you knew about the existence of sexual stuff had been taught by him, when he mainly warned you about the terrible consequences of that type of action and that you had to stay innocent.

You didn't really know what he meant by all that, since he was very vague in his descriptions about sex. Hershel just used to say that there were certain areas on your body that you should never let a boy get near and you knew better than to disobey your father's orders, being aware that he always knew what was best for you. Not even your own hands had ever darted down your body to meet those spots more than once or twice before quickly pulling away. You wanted to remain innocent, whatever that meant.

But Daryl was the observant type, and he quickly caught up that you knew nothing about that type of thing. He knew you had always lived in that farm, away from the perverted hands of boys your age (or older like him) so connecting the dots wasn't tricky at all.

Oh, the things he could show you. That thought alone brought a somewhat creepy smirk to Daryl's face as he stared into the wall, contemplating the opportunity he had in hands to finally have his way with you. He knew he still had to be careful though.

“Daryl?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You turned your head to look at him before turning your entire body to face him. Your gaze was curious.

“This?” He motioned with his chin towards the dripping substance on the piece of furniture, looking out of place. “Ya don'... know wha' it is?” He double checked, wanting to make sure you were actually unfamiliar erotic nature of what you saw him doing.

“Well, I saw where it came from.” You revealed, not sounding accusing at all, just simply stating a fact.

“...How long 've ya been watchin' me?” He asked with an almost audible gulp. Though he was considerably excited about teaching you all that new stuff, he was still unsure if he should or not. It'd been so long since his last sexual interaction with someone else that he could barely remember it. And doing it with the daughter of the man that gave him a roof to put over his head in times like these? That was risky.

“A while.” You stated. Now, Daryl could notice how you started staring at his crotch area with a renewed sense of interest. That meant you had definitely seen his dick despite his efforts to hide it when he first got caught just moments ago. He wondered if you knew what it was or its purpose.

You stepped even closer to him and he couldn't help but step back slightly. “I've never seen somebody pee like that. Are you... Sick?” You raise an eyebrow. “The bathroom's just in the next room, you know...” Your worried tone was awfully adorable to Daryl. And well, he was indeed sick, but not in the way you meant it. Nonetheless, the amusing way you mistook his semen for urine made him share a light chuckle.

“Nah, tha's... Tha's not piss.” He bluntly let out. You walked across your room and over to your bed, sitting on its edge. Daryl followed you until he was standing in front of you. He crossed his arms.

“How so?” You tilted your head to the side with a sincere curiosity displayed on your face. You had seen the way he rubbed that one thing of his that you weren't sure how it worked until that slimy liquid started oozing out of it, deeply stimulating your curiosity.

“Ya sure ya wanna know?” His tone sounded more dark and his voice turned hoarser, however, that didn't seem to faze you. You nodded frantically. “Aigh', i'll show ya.” Once again, a smirk creeped onto his face. Your eyes were all sparkly as you attentively listened to him. “Sometimes people touch themselves ta feel good, ya know?” You shrugged, not really sure of what he was talking about.

As he spoke, he took light and slow steps towards you, like a predator preparing to hunt its prey, until his knees was almost touching yours. “Ya ever touched yerself, darlin'?” Despite the raspiness in his voice, it was now rather calm, with a surge of some sweetness to it.

“Like how?” You asked.

“Like here...” He extended his hand with a gentle movement, his finger tracing a path from the valley between your breasts down to your bellybutton. The slightly ticklish sensation made you flinch a little. Then, his finger continued making its way down to your lower belly, stopping inches above your clothed pussy. “'N here...”

Your breath hissed, and you started remembering how your dad told you those parts were sacred and shouldn't be touched by anyone, no matter who. The uncertainty was obvious in your face as you discreetly pushed his hand away. “Uncle Daryl...”

“Ya can call me jus' Daryl, sweetheart. 'M yer friend, remember?” He tried his best to sound convincing.

“Yes, Daryl...” You corrected yourself with an awkward chuckle. “I... I think I shouldn't.” You avert your gaze from his.

“Why not? Dontcha wanna know wha' it's like?” He leaned in a little closer, resting his hands on your thighs. You made a motion to try to push him away again, but he insisted on his touch. “Don' be scared, doll. 'M not gunna hurt ya. Quite the opposite.” He smirked while practically whispering the last part, making sure to sound extra coaxing.

You weren't really sure what you were afraid of, exactly. You just knew that you wanted to make your father happy and proud of you, since he'd always been so caring towards you and your family. In the end, you just wanted daddy's approval.

“I'm... I'm not sure. I don't know, it doesn't feel right.” You confessed, your voice filled with worry. Daryl knew how to be intimidating when he wanted to.

“'S okay, doll.” He spoke the way one would speak to a puppy. And giving you no time to protest, he used one of his hands to tug at the hem of your white tank top and pulled it up in one go, revealing your bare tits to him. He bit his lips, noticing you weren't wearing a bra. As quick as he did so, you felt so ashamed of your sudden nudity that you lifted your arms up to try to cover yourself up from his hungry eyes. “D-Daryl...”

“Shhhh...” He shushed you against your ear, making shivers run down your spine. Although you were uncertain, the way he spoke to you made certain parts of your body warm up, an unusual sensation for you. “Ya got such pretty tits... Ya shouldn't hide 'em away from me.” As he said that, he gently grabbed one of your breasts, giving it the slightest squeeze not to startle you. You couldn't help but let out a small squeak at the unfamiliar sensation. Weirdly enough, it felt good in a way you had never felt before.

“Ya like tha'?” He whispered. “It's nice, but... Daddy wouldn't like that. I just wanna make daddy happy.” You just wanted to be a good girl. Perhaps, you could find a different way of doing that.

“Yeah?” He muttered practically to himself as he got an idea. “Well, I can be yer daddy for today. Like tha', ya could make yer daddy happy in a way. Yer jus' gotta lemme lead ya, aigh'?” He didn't feel guilty in the slightest for making you engage in one of his twisted fetishes while you were barely aware of it.

“H-huh?" You were uncertain about the reason behind his suggestion.

“Ya can pretend 'm yer daddy.” He continued playing her mind. You weren't really sure if you liked the idea to depict him as your old man, but you tried to convince yourself to play along.

“But... What will he think of me when he finds out?” You fidgeted with your fingers. Meanwhile his grip on your breast continued to intimidate you.

“He don' have ta know. C'mon, dontcha wanna make daddy happy?” He conveyed in a hush against your ear, his thumb now grazing your sensitive nipple, making you feel that one funny sensation again. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

You closed your eyes, darting your tongue out to lick your lips. The nervousness in you due to the newness of it all made your lips dry. The way Daryl was making you feel was curious, and you just wanted more of it. He took your silence as a confirmation.

“Good girl.” He cooed before capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, very gently sucking on it. The feeling made you arch your back instantly.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

You just wanted to be a good girl. And if following Daryl's lead was a way to do it, you were all in for it. Your senses awakened as a cascade of unfamiliar yet electrifying sensations coursed through you, a dance of pleasure that tingled on your skin. In that moment, a subtle warmth enveloped you, as if you had discovered a secret realm of bliss previously unknown.

You reached for his head, the feeling of your delicate fingernails scratching against his scalp and pulling him closer sent tingling sensations all over his body. Instinctively, you slightly opened your legs at the pleasure and that drew a smirk onto Daryl's face.

“Eager fer daddy, huh?” The way he referred to himself like that made a faint blush spread across your cheeks, although you couldn't wrap your head around the reason why. It felt so wrong but so right at the same time.

“I need ya to trust me, 'kay?” He said as he pulled your shorts down and then tossed them aside, revealing your white cotton panties. Once again, you felt to urge to hide, not knowing how to deal with someone else seeing you naked for the first time. But before your legs could involuntarily close, his big hands groped your thighs, keeping them spread apart. “'S okay, sunshine.” He practically manhandled you, gently but firmly pushing your body downward so you rested you back on the mattress.

The new position made you feel strangely vulnerable, but it wasn't exactly a bad feeling. Your doe eyes had a mix of unsureness and curiosity as they meet his. Sensing the mixed sensations within you, Daryl leaned in to place a small peck on your plush lips, aiming to make you more comfortable. The feeling of his rough lips against your soft ones so suddenly almost made you flinch, but they felt rather inviting. As he pulled back, a confident smirk could be seen displayed on his face.

The archer's rugged fingers traveled their way down your body once again until they found the soft fabric of your panties, making your breath hiss. He brushed his index and middle fingers against your clothed pussy lips. Just with that, the dampness was so obvious that a small wet spot could be seen on the cotton fabric right where your slit would be. He dragged his fingers across it until they reached your clit.

“This lil spot righ' here...” He kept his hand there. “...is magical." For now, he just added a small pressure, testing the waters and watching close to your reaction, but that was enough to draw a whimper from you, the unknown sensation making you grasp his forearm. It indeed felt magical. You bit your lips and though you couldn't see it, Daryl shared a satisfied smile at the way he was able to get you all hot and bothered with just a simple touch.

Your legs squirmed a bit and he took that as a good sign, so he continued. Now, he started slowly rubbing your clit in circular motions over the fabric of your panties. Your back arched again, and you accidentally let out a dangerously loud moan.

“Nuh-uh.” He brought his other index finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet. “Ya gotta be quiet, ya hear me?” His tone was mostly reprimanding, which strangely excited you. You nodded, enjoying the authority he guided you with through those new sensations. You had touched yourself there before, but never like that. The sensation always felt somewhat wrong, but with Daryl, it was totally different.

You were still kind of upset at yourself for disobeying your dad, but the way Daryl worked his fingers so skillfully had you seeing stars. You never thought you'd be handing out your innocence for some old redneck you met just a while ago, but there you were, completely given to him.

In the beginning, Daryl used to always kind of avoid you, despite your attempts of trying to get to know at least a little bit about the mysterious archer. He knew that deep down, those desires towards you were always there, since the very first time he saw you. At first, he tried to brush them off, but now, all he wanted was to be the one to feel your tight virgin cunt for the first time.

In a swift motion, his big hands tugged at the hem of your underwear. “Up.” He ordered, gesturing for you to lift your hips so he could pull them down. You didn't argue at all and promptly did as he said, reveling in the control he had over you. It was like he dominated your weak mind. “Good girl.” He cooed once again. Oh, if only he knew what that did to your little inexperienced pussy.

After tossing the piece of fabric aside, he reached for you knees, gently spreading them apart. The sight of your glistening bare cunt had his mind rushing through all the things he could do to it. He wondered if he would be able to hold himself back and be gentle or if he would end up losing control. After all, he hadn't done anything like that in such a long time that his whole body was aching for it. He stared at it in an almost scary way, you'd never seen his eyes so hungry.

If his cock hadn't awaken until that moment, now it was hard as a fucking rock. He had to really fight the urges to pull it out his pants and dick you down right there and then, but he knew he had to take it easy on you at least for now and get you nice and ready for him, even though you were already visibly dripping wet.

“Is this all fer me?” His tone was almost mocking. You weren't sure what he meant by that, not fully understanding the concept of natural lubrication, but you just nodded with your eyes closed. Something about being in that position felt so right, so freeing that it had you wondering why you never did that before, and why you were so afraid of trying it in the first place.

Daryl's hands sensually traced their way down your body, exploring your every contour until they reached the back of your thighs, pushing them back until your wet cunt was all over his face. He tried his best to control himself, but his own arousal was practically taking over his mind, so he buried his face on it like a starving man. As soon as his wet tongue made contact with your sensitive little clit and he lapped at your abundant juices, you immediately gasped, gaining a look of disapproval from Daryl.

“I warned ya.” That was all he mumbled before taking your panties he had just took off you and sticking them into your mouth almost aggressively. You could taste yourself on the white fabric, and although it felt strange, it turned you on even more. Now, your little sounds were muffled by the piece of clothing as he resumed eating you out, flicking his tongue on hour clit and burying it between your folds. You never thought a feeling like that could actually exist as you experienced that overwhelming rush of pleasure, a novel sensation coursing through you sending shivers down your spine as a delightful warmth enveloped your entire being. You tried your best to hold back your sounds since your dad was home and could hear you if you slipped, but Daryl's skilled tongue and lips made it an extremely difficult task, even with your panties stuck in your mouth.

He continued working your clit with his mouth, and maybe a little sooner than it should, a tingling sensation forming in your lower belly caught your attention. Daryl noticed the obvious shift in your demeanor and took the panties out of your mouth so you could speak. “D-daddy...” You experimented the honorific he had previously suggested. “I-I feel funny.” You whimpered, squirming a bit harder than before as it started feeling as if you were gonna burst at any moment. Daryl smirked against your skin and gave your pussy a last peck before pulling away, making you whine in disapproval. It had only been seconds but you immediately missed the sensation. You craved it.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He said. Not yet what, you wondered. But you still wanted to be good for him, so you nodded as the good girl you were. You couldn't think of anything you wouldn't do for him in that moment, considering how desperate you were to feel that pleasure again.

Your curious eyes followed his hands as they reached to unbuckled his own belt, setting it aside. He undid his pants and pulled them down just enough to reveal his boxer briefs to you. There. There was the place where you saw that sticky white thing shooting out from. Now, the excitement in you was unbearable as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. Your eyes visibly lighted up and that didn't go unnoticed by Daryl.

“Yer gunna love this, lil' girl.” He bit his lips. Something was very obviously bulging in his boxers, which you found odd since it didn't seem to look so obvious when it was in his pants even though now it looked so big. Either way, you were completely drawn to it. You glued your eyes to his crotch while he pulled his underwear down.

You had heard about it, but you had never actually seen one of those before. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, his pubic hair had grown wild and untamed, a reflection of the makeshift survival and the absence of the once routine grooming practices. Not that he used to care a lot about that kind of thing before the outbreak. In a way, you thought it looked charming, suiting his rugged looks and personality.

You could feel your mouth starting to water at the sight of his cock standing tall and proud in front of you. Since the archer had touched his mouth to your cunt, you wondered if you could do the same to him in that same area on his body. As if he could smell your thoughts, he brought a hand to your head, gently pulling you closer to his crotch while he held it by the base.

“Ya wanna have a taste?” He slyly suggested and chuckled at your frantic nodding. Leaning closer to it, you felt the musky and raw scent that emanated from it, which made you even more drawn to the possibilities that ran through your mind. But at the same time, you didn't know what to do or how to handle it.

Bringing his hand to his mouth, he collected some saliva from it and rubbed the wetness on the tip of his cock to lubricate it. “Gimme yer hand.” He reached out his hand, and instantly you complied, allowing him to direct it towards his cock. He enveloped your hand around it, keeping his atop yours, slowly starting to move it up and down. It felt warm and hard against your soft fingers, and the way he threw his head back and quietly groaned made your stomach churn with butterflies. “Fuck baby, tha' feels good.” He had to whisper due to the dangerous presence of your dad in the house threatening to put your little playtime to an end.

You smiled proudly at yourself. You liked the way he sounded and you wished to draw more of those grunts from his lips. And Daryl, being just as eager as you, removed your hand from his length, holding it by the base. His other hand found its way to the back of your head, his touch almost feeling impatient as he pulled you closer to his cock. “Open yer mouth.” He didn't have to tell you twice. Therefore, he guided his swollen tip to your awaiting tongue, smearing his salty pre-cum all over it. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to hold back any compromising sounds.

Your lips instinctively closed around his tip, trying to mimic the way he sucked on your clit, aiming to make him feel as good as he previously did to you. The act not only gave him pleasure, but it also brought you a deep sense of satisfaction, making you hum against his sensitive skin. The vibrations from your vocal chords sent a chill through his body and he couldn't hold back this time, the warm sensation of your mouth being so tempting and promising that he pushed his hips forward a bit too much, causing it to hit the back of your throat and you to gag on it.

He immediately retracted his body, removing his cock from the velvety confines of your mouth. Your eyes got a little watery but you smiled either way. “Sorry, princess.” He said with a hint of awkwardness in his voice.

“It's fine, I liked it.” You confess, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stood in front of you. Your innocent expression contrasting with the dirty nature of your encounter made him impossibly hornier, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. “Fuck” He almost whined. Eagerness to feel you wrapping around him filled his body, so he grabbed you by the arms, not too rough so he wouldn't hurt you, and put on your feet against the pink wall of your room.

He brought a hand to your head, pressing it against the wall. You gasped a little at his roughness but soon you felt him brushing the tip of his cock on your slicky slit and clit. “'S gunna feel good, I promise.” He mumbled against your ear, making your body hair stand on end. The sensation had you biting your lips to try and not make any sounds, but your efforts were proven useless as you felt the pressure of his tip carefully going in your cunt, causing a burning sensation and you accidentally let out a loud cry.

Daryl's hand went immediately to your mouth, forcefully pressing his palm against your lips to muffle your sounds, your dad shouldn't hear Daryl using his sweet daughter in his own home after all. “Shhh, shhh.” He shushed you, resting his chin on the top of your head for a moment. You wrapped around him so tight even though he only had his tip in yet that he couldn't restrain himself from pushing his hips forward a little more, intensifying the burning sensation while he stretched your virgin cunt out.

“'S okay, ya can take it.” In that moment, you were confused at why he was making you feel so good just a moment ago, and now he's ripping your little pussy apart. But even though it hurt, it was somewhat pleasant to feel so full in such a new way, so you stuck your ass towards him, inviting him in. While still keeping his hand pressed on your mouth, he brought his other one to your hips, gripping them a little too tight.

Without warnings, he buried his entire length in you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim and worsening the burning to a whole new level. The only thing that kept you from letting out a scream at the sudden invasion was his hand muffling your pathetic sounds and the fact that you'd be in deep trouble if your dad found out about that, but even so, Daryl couldn't help but quietly grunt at the intense sensation. He didn't know he missed fucking a warm cunt so badly until he was completely inhumed inside you. “Good girl. Yer being so good fer daddy.” He praised you. His words had an immediate effect on you, making your pussy even wetter, if that was even possible.

You didn't even care if it hurt or not anymore, so you just stood there, caught in the paradox of sensation — a mix of pain and pleasure etched across your face. The twinge felt like a sweet ache, and yet, an irresistible allure pulled her deeper into the experience, as if the discomfort held a hidden charm that she couldn't resist exploring.

Despite the pain, you found herself oddly drawn to the sensation, craving more as if the discomfort carried an inexplicable appeal that kept you coming back for another taste. So you slightly wiggled your ass against Daryl's body, moving his cock a little inside you. The feeling of being stretched out had you desperate for more.

Daryl's warm breath hit your ear as he let out a light-hearted laugh at your reaction, sending delicious goosebumps all over your body. His hips started going back and forth to meet yours in a sensual dance. He tried to be gentle at first, but your virgin cunt was just so wet and warm that he couldn't help it but succumb to his primal desires. “Jus' like tha', princess. Take this fat cock.” He whispered loud enough so only you could hear, making you weak in the knees.

His calloused hand let go of your hips to find your clit, starting to rub it with just the right pressure to make you squirm under his touch. The mixed sensations of intense pleasure and pain confusing your brain, making you melt like putty in his hands. Overwhelming waves of pleasure surged through you, leaving your head blissfully empty as if every thought had been swept away by the sheer intensity of the sensation, which was exactly what Daryl wanted, to turn you into a brainless little fucktoy for him.

If a few months ago somebody told you that you'd be letting some perverted older man take advantage of you in your own room, you would've laughed right in their face. Giving your innocence away to anybody used to feel like such a distant reality, and now there you were, pressed against the wall by Daryl's sweaty body while he mercilessly pounded your no longer virgin cunt, making you experience the most pleasurable pain you could ever feel.

As he continued bucking his hips like a desperate animal, you drooled against his hand, your brain now reduced to putty due to the overpowering sensation that dominated your every sense. “Nngh...” Your muffled moans stirred an even deeper desire within Daryl, turning him as primal as one could be. Your body language made it obvious that you were close to your orgasm, and this time, he didn't plan to deny you of it.

But you had never experienced something like that. You didn't know pleasure could get so extreme that could made you burst, so as the sensation built and grew stronger, it also made you unsure about where it was taking you, and you tried to fight the feeling. Daryl's skilled fingers working your clit only threw you even closer to the edge and you felt like your legs could fail at any moment.

Noticing the shift in your demeanor, he muttered against your ear. “Jus' let it go, baby. Trust me, don' hold it.” His tone was strangely sweet considering what you were both up to, but his encouraging words relaxed you a little, and as he intensified the rubbing on your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold it in not even if you wanted to, whatever it was.

Then, it hit you. An entirely unfamiliar and intense sensation washed over you, catching you off guard. It felt like uncharted emotional and physical territory, leaving you completely stunned, wide-eyed, and grappling with the unexpected intensity of the experience, something that almost made you mad at your dad from convincing you of staying away from it for so long.

Daryl had to intensify the pressure of his hand against your lips, but even so, he wasn't able to muffle your cries completely as your body convulsed and you were sure you lost consciousness for a few seconds. “Good girl, cum for me.” You didn't know what that word meant, but considering the situation, you understood that it probably had something to do with the new type of pleasure you just experienced.

As the orgasmic sensation slowly faded away, it was replaced with an even more overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. You squirmed even harder and you swore you could cry if he continued using your cunt like that, not giving you any breaks to catch your breath. You'd been turned into a whimpering and drooling mess, a total slut for his cock. You wanted him to have his way with you and you knew that if he wanted to, you'd let him fuck you all day without arguing.

The intense clenching of your tight pussy around his length initiated his own orgasm, and now it was his turn to experience the compelling feeling of being right on the edge of pleasure. “Fuck, turn 'round." He desperately voiced, but he didn't even waited for you before decisively grasping your shoulders, swiftly turning you to face him. As he did so, he removed his cock from inside you and stroked it hard and fast for a few seconds with just enough pressure to make himself burst.

Your mesmerized eyes watched as the pleasure took over his body. And now, it all made sense as he started shooting his load aiming right on your bare pussy, just as he was doing earlier today when you first caught him in your room. The warm sticky substance coated your cunt and it was so much that it felt like it would never end, leaving you astonished. You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you.

You two stared into each other's eyes while desperately trying to catch your breaths, sharing a small chuckle and satisfied smiles. He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead and now, you knew who to come up to when you feel that funny feeling in your lower belly again. You knew Daryl had what it took to take care of your needs.

Without saying anything else, he pulled his briefs and pants back up again, adjusting his clothes. Then, he reached for his pocket, pulling out those panties he had stolen earlier and putting them on you again, leaving his load smeary and sticking to your skin. “Leave it there.” He hoarsely voiced, ordering you to walk around with his cum inside your clothes while no one else knew of it except the both of you.

“And these...” He walked over to your bed and bended his knees a little so he could reach for the white cotton panties he had tossed aside right before railing you and put them in his pocket.

“...'M gunna keep these fer later.”

a/n: omg guys the first part of sweet scent got over 1.1k notes and that's like??? insane??? tysm for all ur support, that's crazy. it was so much fun to write both parts and i'm so thankful if you read it this far!! i hope y'all have a great and happy holidays xx

taglist: @imagininghim , @murdadixon , @epilepsywarrior8787 , @darklydixon

[ceilidho]

landscape with honey

summary: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 4. (read the whole thing on ao3 here) tags: light daddy kink, breeding kink, very nsfw, she/her pronouns for reader

-

He starts showing up at your house at odd hours. 

You’re fixing coffee in the morning, still fuzzy and warm from sleep, only to hear the sounds of hammering outside. Wrapping yourself in just a housecoat, you find John fixing the loose step on your stairs, barely sparing enough time to greet you before returning to the task at hand. When he finishes, he brushes off your attempts to pay him for the job, just loading his tools back in the car and driving off.

You sip your coffee and wonder. Odd.

The next day, you find him raking the leaves in your lawn. Two days later, he shows up at the grocers when you’re picking up produce, and helps you carry all your bags to the car. He also adds a peculiar amount of canned goods to your order and when you fret and try to tell him that you don’t need the pickles and sauerkraut and beans and all of that stuff, he just lays a hand flat on your head and drags it down your hair until you go quiet. 

He pays for the whole order.

You’ve never had to wonder about a man’s actions. Men are largely inscrutable to you, ever-shifting. They say one thing and mean another. They look at you like one might look at an oil painting, entitled something like Virgin Meeting Her Lover’s Eyes From The Top Of The Staircase or Landscape With Virgin. They speak to you as though an answer were entirely antithetical to their purpose in conversing with you. 

John listens to you with a focus that borders on intimidating, like he wants to hear each word enunciated exactly how you might enunciate it. It has the sharp clarity of respect, of a mutual acknowledgement of humanity. He also comes over to fix your sink without you having to ask. The world of men is still largely confusing to you. 

John grows surlier as the days grow shorter though. He doesn’t snap or snarl at you the way he does sometimes with his recruits (you rarely see him interact with them, but sometimes you’ll drop him off his lunch on the days when you’re feeling particularly generous and that’s when you’ll have the rare pleasure of hearing him shout at a trembling twenty-three year old for littering on the trail like a military captain), but it’s a near thing. 

The worst is when he catches you on a jog one morning on his drive to work. You see his truck with the faded red paint pass you by and you give a short wave that he returns. He passes you by about half a yard before coming to a full stop and reversing. You stare at him as the window rolls down, brows furrowed.

“Hi Jo—” you start.

“Get in the car,” John growls. You hear the doors unlock. 

“…My uh…my shift’s in two hours, John, I can’t just—”

“Get in the car.”

“This is my only time to exercise!”

“If I have to get out of this car and drag you inside, honey, I will. Don’t play with me. Get in.”

You get in the car. Probably wisely. Still dripping sweat and shivering from the cold—you’re not used to jogging in the winter, or at all for that matter, but it seemed like as good a time as any to start—you glance over to stare at the side of John’s face. His jaw is set, almost as if in anger. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel as he makes a U-turn and drives back into town. The cab of his truck smells like flannel pulled out from the back of a closet, almost musty, but comforting in the way that old clothes can sometimes smell. There’s a cigarette ashed out in the dish in front of the centre console. 

He takes you to the nearest bakery for coffee and a breakfast muffin and stares you down until you eat the whole thing. You feel like you have to scarf it down. Customers bustle into the bakery to order coffee to-go and fresh cookies and scones in waxy paper bags; everyone in town knows each other so you try to avoid the more curious stares when they’re turned on you.

“This is weird,” you say, staring down at the crumbs on your plate. “This is really weird.”

“This is what you get for exercising before winter,” John says, flagging down the barista for another muffin and a refill on your coffee. “Waste of calories.” The last part is said derisively, almost with a scoff. 

You frown. “Lots of people exercise. Even when it snows.”

“Winter is a time for hibernating. Not…sweat,” he says with a grimace, like the very thought is anathema to him. 

"Hibernating?" you repeat skeptically, scrunching up your nose. "I mean, I spend a lot of time indoors, but I wouldn't say I'm hibernating."

John stares at you until you look away, flushed. "Finish your breakfast."

The barista returns with another blueberry muffin and a fresh cup of coffee. At least John's the one paying. When he finally seems satisfied, he hustles you home and leaves you off at the door with a stern warning. 

“You gonna be good for me this time?” he asks, a finger curled under your chin, tilting your head up. One of his hands curls around the doorframe and your heart jumps when you hear the wood creak under his grip. This close, you can see the faintest silver streaks at his temples and the flecks of it in his beard.

“It was just a light jog,” you mumble, looking away. 

“Not a light anything,” he warns, ducking closer until you feel like shrinking back, like disappearing into your house. “Bake a cake if you have to burn off energy so bad. I’ll be over around seven, alright?” 

You mumble something, the words getting lost in themselves. It’s impossible to think with John in your space like this. It’s only when he finally pulls away and ambles back to his truck that you rock back on your heels, let go of whatever spell he had you under. 

The first week of December hits town like a truck. 

You’re trudging home alone after your shift when you make the decision to cut through the forest because you missed the last bus and you don’t want to spend an hour walking home. The first snow of the season has caught you off guard, clad in boots too autumnal and a sweater too thin for the biting cold. The flakes fall in thick chunks that stick for a brief moment before melting into the skin.

It’s not the first time you’ve travelled through the forest alone. The town is surrounded by pockets of the forest, like it can’t help enveloping whatever space is left for it. Oftentimes it’s easier just to cut through the woods rather than travel the long way around. You wouldn’t even call this the forest proper, not like the acres of trees sprouting over the mountains just off in the distance. 

A bush rustles. Your eyes flick over for a second, breath hovering in your chest before you decide that it’s just a squirrel. Nothing ever happens in a town like this. The man from the other day notwithstanding, nothing truly bad ever happens. You keep walking down the partially demarcated path, lit only by the full moon overhead. It’s so dark that the snow around you is almost blue. 

The bush rustles again. You stop this time, feet staying planted in the snow long enough for your feet to grow cold. You stare at the dark shoots covered in a layer of snow; it stripes the branches like candy from a time ago, licorice twisted with white bark, and it doesn’t move when you look at it. The bushes and trees are dense, impossible to peer through. Even walking through the forest doesn’t make you feel immersed in it. You follow a barely marked path, hard to see through the recent snowfall, and stare out into the dark woods with a kind of animal sense. Not sure whether you’re alone, whether something’s there with you, and whether it’s sensed you or if you’ve sensed it first. 

You start walking again when your feet go numb. Better to just get home.

It comes behind you again as a slightly louder rustle. It’s harder to shake off the fear this time, harder to say that it’s just the wind. The snow crunches under more than one set of feet, branches cracking under the weight of something larger than you. 

You don’t want to turn around, but the sound of something chuffing makes your stomach drop. The first thing that emerges when you turn to face it is its massive head, a white frosted muzzle, and the visible hump on its back. The wispy smoke of its breath puffs out when it breathes. Its eyes are dark, hardly reflecting any light at all. Then the rest of it emerges, the saplings bending out of its way as it clambers out of the woods and onto the path, staring you down all the while.

You’ve never seen a bear before. Not this close. Not so close that you know it’s been stalking you, know that it didn’t come upon you by accident. You’re staring down at your own body from somewhere else, fear displacing you. Rending you from your own body. There’s no way to guess its weight at a glance, but it’s easily twice the size of you, easily more than that. 

When it takes a step forward, everything goes dark. 

You wake up snuggled under the warmth of a thick blanket. Sleep is creamy thick, engulfing you on all sides, only the faintest prickle of awareness letting you know that you’re awake. 

It’s unpleasant to leave the cotton miasma of sleep, you think. Your nose scrunches up and you let out a tired huff, trying to will yourself back into it. The harder you try to force yourself back into it though, the farther away it floats.

Still it weighs you down. It takes an age to work up the energy to so much as twitch a finger. Even your eyelids insist on staying shut. Yet, the prickle of consciousness needles at you as if to say hello, wake up, you need to get up. You sigh and try to shimmy up onto your elbows.

A hand shoves you back down. The breath rushes out of you.

“Get…back down,” a rough voice grunts from over you and then the full weight of a man settles on top of you, pressing you deep into the mattress. 

Consciousness snaps back into you, elastic sharp. The weight of him pins you to the bed, makes you sink into the plushness of—and this is gradually coalescing in your mind—an unfamiliar place. All four corners of your body are trapped under him. The voice is familiar though. Ragged, brutal. A saw taken to the trunk of an old, thick tree, too many interior rings to count. You whisper John’s name and he grunts, making you flinch from how the sound reverberates through the side of your head.

Exhaustion is thick though and it leaves you heavy, even when John slowly lifts himself to his elbows from behind you. You feel him drag his body down the length of the bed, beard scratching into your skin with every petal soft kiss dropped along your spine during his descent.

“John?” you whisper, only just able to turn your head, not even able to struggle up to your elbows. “J-John?”

He doesn’t answer you. The room is near pitch black, only a window on the other end of the room with the curtain pulled back the smallest amount enough to let the moonlight in. Even the moonlight isn’t enough. You know from the shape of the window that this isn’t your house, that it must be somewhere else. You can only surmise from John’s presence that it’s his, but that thought passes over you like a rock skipping over water. 

“Wher’m’I?” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut when his lips press over the small of your back. Sensitive there. 

Rough hands with callused fingertips smooth over your ass, pressing into the flesh. His fingers pry your cheeks apart, thumbs dipping into the space between and pressing over your hole, making you burn all over. You’re too far gone to worry about any hair on your legs or anything about your body other than John’s hands undulating over your ass and thighs. You flinch violently when his teeth sink into the meat on the underside of your ass, so tender that even exhausted to the bone your body lashes out. 

Big hands pry your legs apart. You flinch at the sudden hot breath over your sex, a whine tickling your throat. His face hovers so close to your centre that the tip of his nose presses on the tender skin near your entrance. 

“Wha’ d’you…think you’re doin’...” you ask breathlessly. Your brain tries to order your leg to kick, but it stays flat and limp on the bed. 

The first touch of John’s tongue along your slit makes you melt, the flat of his tongue lapping upward and making your hips tilt up with it. It almost makes your mind go blank again, almost tips you back into the unconscious world because the synapses in your brain stop firing the second you remember that it’s John between your legs licking hungrily at your cunt. John from the grocery store, John from the ranger’s station in the mountains—the John you’ve been crushing on and coveting for months now, content to just be friends with the gruff, handsome man in the house next to yours. Now sucking one of your nether lips into his mouth and tracing his tongue up the inside, gliding it over the supple flesh.

“Yer in the den,” John mumbles into your pussy and it’s like he sears the words into your brain. “‘N I’m takin’ care of you, honey.”

“The…the den…?” It’s so hard to keep your thoughts in order. Each flick of his tongue makes you gasp, pussy growing wetter and hips grinding languidly down on his face.

He hums instead of answering. 

“Why’m’I so tired?” you slur. 

His tongue saws over your clit from behind. It tears a broken whimper from you. You feel every textured ridge, the way it flicks around in a circle and then up and down again. 

“Winter season,” John says, sucking your clit into his mouth until you whine at the top of your lungs. “Bear’s sleep in winter.”

“Tha’s silly. M’not a bear,” you moan. 

“No,” he agrees, humming into your sex. “Jus’ mated to one. Makes you sleepy too, honey.”

“Mated?” you repeat back, but it’s lost in the way you moan when he eats your pussy from the back, licking into you with renewed vigour. Hungry like a bear. Grunting like a satisfied man, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up. 

Words and old memories about bears hardly matter when the handsome man from next door spreads your legs wide, almost to the point of pain, and sinks his tongue into your hole again. You never would’ve expected John to be vocal, but he’s noisy behind you, groaning into your cunt. He keeps mumbling things under his breath that you can’t catch. 

“John—” you gasp, biting your lip when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. “John—John—”

He only has to give you a single finger to tip you over the edge, feeds it in nice and slow. Your cunt clenches down at the intrusion, teeth nearly breaking through the skin of your lip. 

When he crawls back over you, anticipation makes you shudder. You hear something faint in the background that grows steadily louder as John rests his elbows on either side of your head, until you realize that it’s your own voice murmuring, “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”

He obliges. A thick, steady plunge that hardly manages more than a handful of inches before you’re crying, and it’s too much, too much, too much. Pleasure not a limpid pool anymore but something cavernous and deep-dwelling, pulling you in or trying to make a home inside of you for it. John’s biceps tense with the strain of holding himself back. 

You balance on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. There’s a single thought in your head that it might burn you up from the inside; it runs a jagged hole through you. 

His nose drags through your hair. “Never expected you. Thought I’d go another season alone ‘till I started smellin’ you around town.”

You hiccup. “Y’never—never paid me any attention ‘for— before, ah—”

“‘Course I paid attention to’ya, honey,” John says into your ear, grunting when he drives deeper into your pussy, still just a languid grind of his hips, so mind-numbingly slow that your thoughts sizzle out of your head. He keeps dragging his hips back and plunging in, barely pulling away from you, all skin on slick skin. “Made a home for m’self in your house. Made sure we had ‘nough to eat for the winter.”

“The winter?”

“Won’t be goin’ anywhere for a few months.” He brushes your hair out of the way to kiss down your neck, giving in to the urge to bite just a little. His body stays pressed tight to yours, hardly an inch of space between the two of you. “Wasn’ sure at first if it’d be here or in your house so… fuck, I had to get ready. Make sure you’d be safe when it hit.”

“Don’ even…know wha’ that means,” you mumble into the mattress, then squeal and fist the fists when John shoves a hand under you to grope your chest.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shushes you. “All y’have to do now is lie there ‘n take my cock, okay, honey? Can’ya do that for me? I’ll get some food in you after we’re done, then send ya back to bed.”

Only a whine comes out when you open your mouth. John’s arm by your head forces you to breathe in the scent of him, musky and rich. You stare at the hair on his knuckles and his thick fingers gripping the sheets as well, old nicks and scars decorating his hand. You can’t stop staring at his fingers and thinking that he had one of those in you before, that he’s felt you from the inside. 

He never pulls away, never changes positions, just fucks you on your tummy in his bed. You’ve never been in John’s bedroom before, but this has to be his room—even the pillowcase smells like him, pine needles and cigar smoke. He keeps up a steady pounding into your cunt, rutting like a wild animal. Has to be close. Gets so close to you that you feel smothered, trapped in place. Like if you struggled, he wouldn’t let up. You want to test it, see if you could, but the heaviness is still in your limbs, keeping you docile. Convenient. A little convenient thing for him to use, like a doll to get himself off with.

“Never coulda imagined such a pretty girl f’r me,” John groans, getting a grip in your hair to twist your head, tugging you into a kiss. Your whole body sparks to life, so shocked that you can’t even kiss him back at first. You wait until he pulls back, staring into his half-lidded eyes through the mess of your hair all tangled up around you. “Gave up on thinkin’ there was anyone out there. Thank fuck I found you first, honey. Can start workin’ on all the good stuff now. Get you to give daddy a baby.”

“D-daddy?” you gasp back, almost scandalized. 

He pants into your shoulder, worked up now. “Yeah, honey. Don’ I take care of you? Buy y’r food, fix y’r house? Give you someplace nice ‘n warm to sleep?”

You feel soaked with sweat, twitchy, on the verge of something dangerous. Vision all fogged up, heart beating so fast that your skin buzzes. Stretched out on a fat cock and pinned in a man’s bed, nowhere to run or hide. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter when John gets a bit rougher, his breathing getting more staggered, laboured. 

“That’s right, girl,” he grunts, “I’m y’r fuckin’ daddy then, aren’t I?”

Magma bubbles up from deep inside of you. Rockslides off in the distance beat against the ground. When you cry out, it gets lost in the rubble. 

You stumble into the living room maybe hours later after using the washroom across the hall. Maybe a day later. It’s hard to say how many times the sun has risen and fallen behind the mountains. The clock face stares back at you uncomprehendingly. 

Come drips out of you onto the floor. Thick droplets run down your inner thighs. John is still sleeping in the bed where you left him, snoring like a chainsaw. It must’ve been what woke you up. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since he first brought you home, since he left a mess in your pussy, which is still puffy and sore from rough use. You walk with halting little steps to try to minimize the ache. 

You stare bleary-eyed around the room. It feels somehow different than the previous times John’s had you over; there are more throws and blankets draped over the couch, candles scattered around the living room with a lighter on the mantle. 

There’s a fire roaring in the fireplace, blanketing the house in a layer of warmth. It makes you sluggish, stumbling forward only a handful of steps before the shaggy rug in front of the fire drags you back down to the floor. 

“What’re you doing out of bed, pretty girl?” someone rumbles from behind you. 

“Had t’pee,” you say, blinking. You try to rub the sleep out of your eyes unsuccessfully. “Why’m’I still so tired? It’s been…I slept so long…”

“C’mon, honey,” John says, coming up behind you and curling his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Told you it was gonna be a long winter. Maybe just one more and then somethin’ to eat, okay?”

It’s easy to sink to the floor, so easy. Especially with the fluffy rug under your feet. Especially with the fireplace toasting you from the outside in, the tinder crackling in the hearth. Everything in the house is dark and warm, only the fire giving you any light at all. Outside the window, the moon is still heavy in the sky. 

Something about the humidity of the den makes you suddenly so tired, boneless, pliable when he goes to move you, when John curves himself around you in the furs and reaches down to slide a hand between your thighs. 

He grunts when he finds you wet and wanting, sinking a couple fingers in and palming your clit. He doesn’t talk much still, but he says good girl when he cants your hips and slowly stretches you out on his cock. Feeds it into you achingly slow, like molasses. Like nothing’s due for another few months, so why rush it? He’ll take his time so you’re nice and happy and sweet come spring for cubs.

You’re not sure what that means. The pace is slow and deep, like before but less intentional. Like he just wants to savour the warmth of your body. 

When he finally comes deep inside you, your body goes limp, collapsing in a heap onto the rug. You expect John to pull out and turn over, maybe pull you onto his chest so you have somewhere to rest. Instead, he sighs all tired and content, and stays in you, still plugged up in your cunt, his spend only just starting to leak out into a pool beneath you. 

“Are we gonna eat?” you mumble, already half-asleep.

Somewhere behind you, he laughs; it’s soft like a snowfall in winter. “Yeah, honey. After a nap, we can eat.”

[giuseppe-yuki]

I feel like Pierre's gf would be bffs with Esteban's gf and it woulf be them going on double dates and the guys going: i will pinch u if my gf doesn't notice it but she will and deprive me of fun stuff grrr

And then both of them have a heart attack when skysports show a video of snakey!gf cuddling with flying squirrel!gf

- 🐺

yessss most definitely! they absolutely refuse to be in a 2 meter radius of each other, but of course they ultimately begrudgingly give in each of their girlfriends' request to have a double date. (but not without complaining about it hours beforehand)

a lil blurb below (i altered your thought a little bit though):

you just had about enough of your boyfriend's whining and groaning about spending time with esteban. whenever you mentioned having a double date with esteban's girlfriend, it was always, "yes, sure, mon amour! whatever you'd like!" and "sounds good to me, baby!" but when it hit the hour mark before the scheduled date, it turned to "how about we go somewhere else, just us?" and "do we really have to go?" it was exasperating, really.

when complaining didn't work, he tried to persuade you by buying you the latest designer jewelry.

"look!" he exclaims, gesturing excitedly towards his phone. "there's this brand, van cleef, that sells pretty nice bracelets! there's like a green ones and a blue ones that you can match your outfits with." pierre glances up to find you with your arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. "or i can get both?" he offers desperately.

"pierre gasly," you say, enunciating each syllable. "we are going, no matter how many van cleef bracelets you try to buy me."

"OH MY GOD REALLY???" you gasp, clutching your chest. "no way he did that!"

"exactly!" esteban's girlfriend says, giggling. "i was shocked too!" she then takes a bite out of her bouillabaisse, and daintily taps her mouth with a pressed white napkin.

the restaurant that you had chosen was more on the fancier side, where even the water was poured out of chilled glass bottles. ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and beautiful arrangements of flowers adorned all the tables. both of you girls were dressed to the nines in fancy clothing and jewelry.

pierre and esteban sat face to face next to you both, looking out of place in more casual-type wear. they obviously looked like they didn't want to be there.

your boyfriend shoves an escargot into his mouth, all the while glaring at esteban.

you and esteban's girlfriend purposely ignore them both, continuing your conversation and sharing the latest tea.

mid-conversation, you see esteban softly start to tip his water glass in the direction of pierre. without missing a beat, his girlfriend snatches the water glass before it tips.

"esteban!" she chastises, softly placing the still-full glass away from her boyfriend. "i know you did that on purpose! if you do that again, i am returning those marvel funko pops i got you."

he huffs, crossing his arms, but stops trying to tip anymore glasses over. your boyfriend smugly smiles at his teammate.

the waiter comes by, offering some dessert options, including crème brûlée and profiteroles.

while enjoying some of the cream puffs, you see pierre reach out his hand out of the corner of your eye. it inches towards esteban's knee, ready to pinch him. you softly slap pierre's hand before it reaches its target. he jerks back, probably surprised you caught him when he was trying to be so secretive.

it is like talking to a child who doesn't listen. "keep your hands to yourself, pierre," you snap, shaking your head.

your boyfriend points at esteban, eyebrows furrowed. "he started it! he literally flicked me first- you just didn't see it!"

esteban furiously shakes his head. "i did not! he's lying!" he nudges his girlfriend, who looks annoyed at the scene playing out in front of her. "tell your bestie that pierre is lying!" he exclaims.

you and esteban's girlfriend exchange looks of pure exhaustion.

several days later, you find yourself in esteban's girlfriend's company again. you both are snuggled on the couch with a movie playing. a bowl of fresh popped popcorn sits between you both, its scent filling your apartment.

suddenly, your phone explodes with texts. the girl next to you glances over, concerned.

"umm... is everything okay?" she asks, pausing the movie.

you flip over your phone, only to find 15 messages and 3 missed calls from pierre. clicking through your phone, you select the contact labeled "pierre 💋"

your boyfriend's voice echos out of the speakers rapidly. "whatareyoudoingwhydidyoupostthatpictureonline???"

"huh?" you say, amused. "what did you say?"

esteban's girlfriend covers her giggles with a hand in front of her mouth.

"i said, why did you post that picture online?? my girlfriend cannot be seen fraternizing with the enemy's girlfriend!"

"ohhh!!!" you exclaim, realization dawning. you and esteban's girlfriend had a little photoshoot before starting the movie, with you posing in your snake form curled protectively around your bestie's flying squirrel shapeshift form. "baby, she is not an enemy!! if you guys would just get over your feud, you would probably see that esteban is a nice person like he was back when you were kids!"

a pause comes from the other side of the phone. pierre lets out a long exhale, thinking about it.

"no!" he finally decides.

[mikanotes]

goodbyes are sour

connor x gn!reader — 2.1k words

genre: angst sorta! mutual pining in denial

warnings: mentions of guns and killing, kabedon for the sake of science, connor unreliable narrator LOL u have feelings android man… maybe ooc idk. (wrote this w the idea of connor being deviant since the beginning bcs Yeah!)

synopsis: You meet Connor again. Turns out things are much more complicated when you aren’t working together.

author’s note: hi dbh fic?! i Love connor nd i’ve been writing this for a while (crazy since it’s rly short) but i don’t like it much… anyways whoevers alive in the dbh fandom have this!

“Detective.”

There’s just something about the way Connor speaks. The cadence, the pitch, the enunciation of each word. It’s painfully evident that he isn’t human. Everything about him is so machine-like that even his perfect, human-like exterior could not fool anyone. However it is something you got used to. Hearing the android speak your name and call you ‘Detective’ back a while ago felt somewhat unsettling. Now it’s so easy to recognize that it almost makes you feel at ease.

“Do you seriously think I’m an android? I don’t wanna deal with those fucking machines, either. I’d be glad if you put a bullet through them rather than me.”

Turns out hearing him fake being a human is ten times more terrifying than his android speech patterns could ever hope to be.

This was not part of the plan.

You were sent with a unit to patrol around the streets for any android who still hadn’t been brought back or destroyed. You weren’t a fan of this whole assignment, but felt better than the rookies who were sent out to shoot humanoid robots as their first field mission probably did.

It would be fine, is what you told yourself, because you didn’t feel anything towards Cyberlife’s creations enough to be completely uncomfortable with the idea of their blue blood on your hands, though it wasn’t ideal. You could manage. Until the first person you came across happened to be the one android you genuinely cared about.

“I don’t think he’s one of them…” one of your fellow officers murmurs next to you. You suddenly become very aware of the gun he, too, is holding and pointing towards the target. Fuck. As if the situation wasn’t bad enough.

At least this idiot’s performance seems to be fooling them.

You wait one second, then sigh on the second, and finally lower your gun on the third. “You shouldn’t be here.” you say casually, prompting your colleagues to relax and the atmosphere to lighten a little. Your heart is in your throat, however. “We’ve got orders to round up every android we see around here. You should go home. This isn’t exactly safe.”

“I know, I know.” he sighs, rolling his eyes a little, “I was gonna leave anyways, thanks.”

Your coworkers mumble to themselves about how disagreeable this guy’s attitude is and it’s enough for them to miss the wink the latter sends your way as he leaves. You almost regret not shooting a bullet through his head.

Still, you sigh in relief, setting your gun back at your side and running a hand over your face. You don’t think you can continue patrolling in peace. There’s one too many questions in your mind and the key to answering them is escaping from your grasp.

You take the phone in your pocket and pretend to get a call, moving it to your ear and looking at the members of your team. “I’ll join up with you later.” you say, gesturing towards your phone. They nod and walk away, and you do the same, feeling more relieved than ever that these people see you as a leader of sorts. They won’t question you on anything. You hurry towards the direction your so-called partner left to the moment they’re out of sight.

A rooftop door, stairs, and more stairs. You’re jogging down like you’re chasing a criminal on the run. You’re down to the fifth floor out of eight when someone grabs your arm and pulls you out a door.

“Wha—” you try to yell, but a cold hand settle over your mouth. Your body relaxes but your expression tenses. Connor. “Let me go,” you mumble incoherently, surprisingly succeeding in getting him to let you step away.

You sigh and shake your head, turning around abruptly. His ‘human costume’ (which really just was a grey suit jacket thrown over what should’ve been his Cyberlife uniform, glasses, and a cap to hide his LED) is already gone, replaced by his usual attire, just missing his jacket.

“What the hell was that about?” you ask, annoyed, pointing towards the staircase (back there, on the roof) and the android simply shrugs. “Connor.”

“I was undercover, Detective. I thought someone as smart as you would recognize that much.” he says, his tone back to normal. You’d feel relieved if he wasn’t being so irritating. “Was I wrong?”

Your face drops. “No. I figured as much. But what for?” you sigh, crossing your arms.

“Same mission as always.”

“Who are you chasing? Did you find the place?”

“I have no reason to tell you.”

It only clicks then that while you know about Connor continuing his mission after being laid off the case, you’re not part of it anymore. He had to be sent back to Cyberlife, and you should’ve been forgetting about him entirely. You’re still DPD, and you have orders to shoot Androids on sight— Which you clearly aren’t following. He’s right. He has no reason to tell you.

Still.

You grab his arm when he threatens to walk away. You’re not sure what you want to say, but you’re not done talking. He lets you. “Connor.”

“Detective.” he says. You straighten your back and sigh, not breaking eye contact. He tilts his head to the side and his LED flashes yellow for an instant. “You’re angry.”

Of course you’re angry. He’s infuriating. There’s something about how logical and dead-set on following every single rule he is that makes Connor the most annoying individual you’ve ever talked to. Everything he does has to be for his mission. Every single thing.

“Do threats work with you?” you ask blankly, “If you don’t tell me where it is, I’ll get Cyberlife to bring you back, and all that?”

When he takes a step closer to you again, forcing your back to press against the wall, and his LED does not even threaten to change hues, you’re taken aback. Just a bit. It’s the same kind of frustrated attitude you would’ve expected from a human after saying what you just did. But not Connor.

He doesn’t seem frustrated, though. And you know he can look annoyed. He just doesn’t. So he must not be. And you want to find what it is he’s doing exactly, stepping closer to you without even saying a word, but your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting at the distance between you two. You know he does everything for his work. Does he think you have new information on deviants? Does he really believe you would call Cyberlife on him? Is he using his stupid interrogation module on you? Whatever it is makes you even more annoyed.

The silence feels heavy. It makes things worse. It gives your brain time to process how this is making you feel and it’s no good at all. “What?” you break the silence, tone somewhat irritated.

“I’m trying to understand the reason why you’re so angry at me.” he explains simply, like it makes sense. His eyes narrow a bit and the LED at the side of his head flickers yellow for a moment. “And no, Detective. Threats don’t work on me. Not when I can tell you’re lying so easily.” he adds, quieter.

“Shut up.” you scoff.

“I dont think I will.”

“Connor.”

“— However,” he interrupts, “I can step away from you at any moment if you tell me to.”

“No.”

“No?”

What— No?! You register the word after saying it and sigh, face contorting into a somewhat pained expression. You panicked and said it, your mind processing his offer as him leaving you again— With no information and nothing to ease your stupid worries. Now it just sounds odd.

Is that embarrassment?

“You didn’t finish what you were trying to do, did you? You haven’t told me why I’m angry yet. Since you apparently care so much.” you say, tone sounding much softer than before. Your apparent discomposure took away all the bitterness from your voice. Interesting.

Truth be told, Connor knows why you’re angry. He’s not letting you in on the details of what he’s doing despite the time you spent working as partners a very short while ago. He’s spent enough time with people, and you especially, to know that after forming some kind of bond with a work partner, it would be frustrating not to receive information about their mission the way you used to from them—

Especially considering he was still chasing after something you both knew about. Jericho. But he cannot tell you about that. Not… Right now.

What he really was trying to do was evaluate how much of a threat you really could be to his investigation. He didn’t sense any hostility before and he doesn’t now, and you could’ve shot him but you didn’t. But it’s not enough. He needs more time— More evidence that it’s fine. That’s why he pulled you here in the first place. That’s why he pressured you to talk.

He needs to make sure killing you isn’t necessary.

“Because I posed a threat to the stability of your current mission earlier. You wouldn’t have been able to shoot me had I been discovered, and your reaction to your colleagues shooting me would’ve jeopardized your job itself.” he answers.

This reasoning would make sense.

“That’s not it.” you sigh.

Your heartbeat is slowing down. No good. Connor leans his arm on the wall next to you and moves closer. Your heartbeat picks up in speed. It’s almost alarming. He can tell all the details about your physical condition and deduce what you’re thinking or feeling based off of them, sure. But he’s no human. The way he views and comprehends emotions is registered in his system in a much more clear and logic-based way than it is in humans’ brains.

So maybe he won’t ever know why your heart beats so heavily against your ribcage. So he just has to pressure the right places and demand answers. He unfortunately can’t allow you to relax. He won’t get anything out of you if you’re calm. You’re much too turbulent for that.

Or maybe he’ll just have to ask. In a normal way.

“Detective, what’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” you scoff, eyes widening. Wrong question.

You seem like you want to be angry but something is holding you back from displaying just how much he gets on your nerves. You sigh deeply and look at him, “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting so weird. More than usual. Why’d you pull me here if you didn’t want to tell me anything? And I’m worried. What if you really did get shot? Wasn’t Cyberlife supposed to deactivate you? They wouldn’t have brought in another Connor this time. You’re off the case, you— You would’ve died!”

“Maybe.”

There’s circles under your eyes. There always are, but they’re more defined now than they were the last time he saw you. Now that you’re actually being honest, your whole voice and mannerisms betray any of your usual annoyed and dismissive facade. He didn’t think you cared this much, though he understands that some humans are quick to empathize. To a fault.

Now it’s clear he doesn’t need to eliminate you at all. Part of him seems to have grown fond of your company. He couldn’t risk that getting in the way of his better judgment.

“I only pulled you here so you wouldn’t pointlessly chase down the streets searching for me, since I made sure no one would follow.” he says, stepping back and giving you more space, “You’re a police officer. It doesn’t matter what you say you’ll keep to yourself or not. I can’t compromise. This is too important.”

You’re hurt, it’s visible. He’s saying he can’t risk trusting you. He figures that must not feel nice.

The sound of the radio attached to your side breaks this prolonged silence with the promise of separation. You take it, eyes not leaving Connor’s, and listen to your colleague speak. You tell them you’ll be right there. You’re not one to be late. He knows you’ll really leave this time— Too far away for him to hope to talk to you again, if anything goes awry.

You turn the radio off and put it back where it was. “Hope you succeed, then.” you say, bitter, and push yourself up to start walking away.

“Take care of yourself, Detective.” Connor says. Asks. The words come out before he can really think. Something about your voice and this whole atmosphere made him… Feel uneasy. Like he needed to say something. If this is how your partnership ends, he doesn’t believe it should be on such a sour note. He cares doesn’t dislike you at all, so why should it?

You stagger a little, seemingly stopping in your tracks, but moving again no more than a second later. “You too, Connor.”

Somehow, goodbyes had never seemed so sad.

[marchsfreakshow]

Hugh Hefner [Colin Zabel]

Smut

Colin was stressed. More than usual. So, you figured you should suprise him with something that should soothe his nerves, at least for a night.

You're welcome for this. I'm literally amazing. :3 yes this came from a cai bot. No it wasn't Colin. No I'm not telling u who.

Warnings: couple mentions of the infamed bunny tail plug lol, oral (m), praise cause he deserves it.

18+! MINORS DNI!

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Work is stressful. Everyone knows that.

Colin felt it more than ever at the moment.

People never stopped what they were doing, cases piling up, and the general public still outraged at unsolved missing girls and unsolved deaths. It never seemed to stop pressuring everyone in the police station.

You could feel it on Colin's shoulders when he visited you. Just wanted to stay in your arms, in your bed and in silence. It almost broke your heart over and over. He never wanted to talk, never wanted to do anything. Colin ate what you made for him, and immediately let you take him to your bed. Fingers tangling in his hair, softly scratching at his scalp. Heavy sigh after a few breaths, eventually letting himself fall asleep. Everything about it made you feel worse.

You couldn't do anything about the work. Not really. If it was up to you, you would've clicked your fingers and every one was found, and all of Colin's cases would've been solved. But no. Reality didn't work like that. It never would've.

Despite the wish for reality to be a little less awful, you came up with an idea one evening. It was perfectly flawless. The internet truly is an amazing place, isn't it? Bunny suit...latex, black, sleek and one size. Into the cart, it went. It came with ears, white cuffs, and a bowtie. All according to plan. But, out of boredom, you scrolled the site a bit more. Then you saw exactly what you thought would work. A bunny tail. A plug to be exact. In your head you'd figure you'd give Colin a heart attack before getting hard at the sight of you in such an outfit. Welp, into the cart it went and you ordered both items basically immediately after finding the bunny tail.

Thank god for next-day delivery.

You were trying everything on in your room, making sure it all fit. Then you remembered Colin had a key to your place, just in case of emergencies, y'know? You had one to his place too so you didn't feel totally creeped out. You only remembered because footsteps suddenly padded into the living room. "Hey, I'm here for a little bit. That okay?" Colin asked out to the house. You didn't respond at first, completely embarrassed that you didn't have time to even make yourself up.

"Y-yeah that's fine!" You stuttered out. Colin made his way up the stairs nonchalantly, preparing to hug you as soon as he entered the room.

Upon opening the door, however, his eyes immediately wandered your back, focusing on the tail plug currently in you. The squeak of the door made you jump a little, immediately looking over your shoulder. "Holy..."

Sheepishly, you turned around, hands going behind your back. "Suprise?" You chuckled, your face suddenly feeling a lot hotter than it was before. "I um..I wanted to put this on for you...try and.." you trailed off, however, distracted by Colin's surprised, yet aroused gaze. Like his brain shut off as soon as he saw the black latex hugging you.

"Holy shit.." He whispered under his breath, feeling his trousers getting very tight, very quickly. Closing the door behind him, Colin let out a shaky breath, still taking in the sight of you in latex, every single best part of enunciated all for him. Which admittedly was every single part of you on your body. Gauging his reaction as a good one, you took a few steps towards him, suddenly smiling towards him. "You look so beautiful." Hands immediately finding your waist, feeling the latex underneath his fingers. It was basically turning Colin's face into a furnace. Red as a cherry, hot as coals on a fire. Eventually, though, he looked up into your eyes, gazing at your smile.

Taking his hands, you pressed a gentle kiss to Colin's lips. While his brain still apparently had not caught up to him. He couldn't give a coherent reply, and just let you take his hands. The idea of you in a bunny suit was hot enough, but actually wearing it...in front of him...with a tail plug? It was basically over for the detective in front of you. Leading him over to your bed, he sort of sat down awkwardly, looking up at you again. "Don't do anything. Okay? Don't do anything." You commanded softly, getting a silent nod as a response.

You got down on your knees, adjusting the latex suit once you were comfortable between your boyfriend's thighs. "Worked up huh?" You asked, starting to undo Colin's belt. It was obviously rhetorical, you knew how hard he had been working recently and his libido was at an all-time low. Well...until now that is. "Verrryyy worked up..my..let's get you sorted out.." A small chuckle left your lips after you spoke, not bothering to tease with a slow tug on his zipper. You undid the buttons, zipped down the zip, and your fingers immediately went to the waistband of the boxers he was wearing.

Slowly tugging the fabric down, watching his leaky, basically untouched cock free itself from the confines. Throbbing occasionally, pre-cum desperately starting to cover the tip. "Such a pretty boy.." Wrapping your fingers around the base of him, Colin's own hand went to your head, gently petting you. It was a sweet feeling on top of the want to de-stress the detective above you.

After licking your lips, you eventually leaned down a bit more, licking a stripe underneath. Colin's legs immediately got a bit shaky, it had definitely been a while since anything like this had happened. "A-ah..sorry.." he mumbled an apology for his legs immediately starting to get a bit shaky.

"hey...no apologising darling.." You smiled, looking up at him. "it's been a while I know that...and I'll make sure it feels the best for you." Your words let Colin take a deep breath and nod, petting your head a bit more. With another smile, you leant back in, enveloping the tip around your lips. Warm breaths were felt, which only caused a shaky gasp to leave Colin.

That's always good. It only made you smile a bit more, continuing to push more of his dick down your throat. Drool starting to collect as you closed your eyes, eventually letting your lips reach your fingers that were wrapped around the base of him. Shaky, small mutters of pleasure and need left Colin's own lips with every movement. His hand actually ended up grabbing onto the bunny headband you had on, the fluffy ears being gripped onto. That was definitely going to end up on the bed or the floor somewhere in a few minutes.

Letting yourself go faster, the lewd sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat got repetitive. Blinking your eyes open, you glanced up to Colin with glazed-over eyes, only to see his own eyes screwed shut. Still hearing little mutters between his moans. Occasionally, you pulled back to catch your breath, just to go back in without wasting another second. "Ohh...jesus.." He whispered, leaning back a little as the shlick of saliva continued throughout the room.

You continued until you pulled yourself back for a second, swallowing the saliva that was collected in your mouth. Colin's hand gripped your head tighter, immediately pushing you back down, causing you to suddenly deepthroat him out of nowhere. A squeak of surprise left you, eyes wide open for a moment. The squeak sent a small vibration through Colin, making a few mumbling swears leave his own lips. You felt the viscous warmth being shot into your mouth, your cheeks puffing slightly to encompass it all. Slowly pulling yourself away, you managed to swallow what you could, licking your lips of whatever dripped out of the corners of your mouth.

"j-jesus.." Colin breathed out, letting go of your head and gazing down at you as you caught your breath. "..I love you.." He whispered with a small smile, reaching his hand down to your cheek.

With a smile back, you could barely reply without some breaths in between. "I love you more. Feelin' a little better now?" You asked softly, moving to stand up between Colin's legs. His hands wandered around your thighs, squeezing at the skin there, nodding in silent reply to your question. Letting his fingers reach behind for the tail plug, feeling the tactile fluff that stuck out of you. "Ha..yeah I um, I was just getting this, suit, but was bored and searched a bit more. Eventually finding this..plug. Was it worth it?"

Colin's hands wandered up to your waist, gripping it and pulling you up slightly, letting himself fall back onto the bed. Your legs moved to straddle him comfortably and lean down slightly. "Yeah, it was definitely worth it." He chuckled breathlessly, once again feeling the latex that hugged your body. "...Could you wear it a bit more?"

Raising an eyebrow, you smirked slightly and kissed Colin again. "Of course I can." Your lips met his again, your hands wrapping around the back of his neck. It was certainly going to be a long night.

And you were certainly glad Colin had a day off tomorrow.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @marchsfreak / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx / @doll3tt33

[allfearstofallto]

can i please get FJU for childe 👉👈 but if you’re bored of him for now, ignore thissss ik there r too many of his fans on your blog dkdnsns🫶

Y'all do not be scared to send in any character asks as long as I write for them!! I'm literally Childe's biggest dick rider, I fucking begrudgingly love this man!!

F avorite position - This goes without saying

While he is partial to a mating press, his favorite position to force your body into when he wants to cream your insides without you being able to push him off, he loves when you ride him. It's pure perfection right in front of him.

Your beautiful body bouncing on his cock, making yourself take it while your cunt clenches around it. He loves the way you get so wet, to the point where you're leaking down onto his stomach. He loves watching you get tired, asking for a break and just resting your head on his chest. He'll fuck into from below, hard fast thrusts as he chases an orgasm for the both of you. And when he cums, he's gripping your ass, digging his fingers into it while he fills you up.

J ack off - Masturbation headcanon

A part of you is upset that someone like Childe looks so breathtaking while stroking his cock. A perfectly sculpted chest that's turning red, panting up and down as he moans out softly.

If you're not around, he masturbates a lot. It's not an addiction, it's just fun for him. It doesn't get him off as quickly and burying his deep into your pussy, but it feels so good regardless. Childe has an affinity for pinching his own nipples as he does, something that pushes him over the edge and makes him cum just a little quicker finishing up by licking the jizz from his fingers.

U nfair - How much they like to tease

Never let this man know what turns you on unless you enjoy being aroused constantly. Childe always teases you. Little bullying and jabs here and there, all said with a playful smile. But when he wants you ready, he'll do whatever it is that you like. It's constant, all day. If you like being choked, you'll find a hand around your neck while you're reading, not enough to actually do anything, but enough to make you want more.

If you like dirty talk, he'll whispers exactly what he's going to do to you on your ear. Every explicit detail, enunciating every syllable of every word so your body can be tremble. If you like being called names, suddenly outside of the bedroom you're no longer his angel or his doll, you're his little slut, his favorite mouth to fuck. You'll get this treatment all day until you're the one begging him to fuck you. And he'll do it with a smug smirk on his face.

[brownsugarwrites]

Magnolia.

❥ pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

❥ warnings: none, fluff, suggestive (if u squint).\

❥ wc: 1.5k

It was the hottest day of the summer, and of course, your mother planned for your family’s BBQ to be hosted today. 

Sitting at the vanity, you applied blush to your cheeks, sighing as you gazed at your reflection in the mirror. Setting the makeup down, you put the white bow your mother made for you in your braids before raking a hand through them.

“Honey, the guests are arriving! Come down ‘ere and help me take the food out,” your mother called. 

Telling her you were coming down to help, you slipped on some white heels before leaving your bedroom. 

The sounds of your shoes could be heard as you descended the steps into the kitchen to help bring out the small finger food outside to the garden. 

“You look beautiful sweetheart,” your mother praised, eyes brightening at your attire.

Giving a thank you, you picked up the platter to bring outside.

He watched as you brought the platters full of food out to the garden as everyone congregated. The sky blue dress clinging onto your hips with the white bow holding a bunch of your braids together. 

He knew exactly who you were. One of the sweetest girls in this little town the two of you live in. Watching as you bring out the magnolia bouquet to your mother to show her gardening club friends her newest accomplishment. He would think you’re as sweet as those flowers you're holding. 

Drinking from his glass of whiskey he listened as your father boasted about his oil company and how business was booming as the sweat dripped from his forehead.

“Here's some water, Daddy,” you said coming up to the group of men intruding into the conversation

“How sweet of you, sweetheart, thank you. I'm sure everyone knows my daughter. Just turned 21 not that long ago,” he beamed as he introduced you to all the men. 

Waving shyly, Arthur watched as the sun beamed onto you and a slight orange glow radiated off you. Eyes trailing down to where your pearls sat right above your breasts that were enunciated by your strapless dress.

My, were you a doll to him…Your pink glossed lips with the red blush adorning your cheeks. 

“--and this is Mr. Morgan, sweetheart,” your dad said introducing you formally to him.

“Pleasure to meet you, beautiful,” he said flirtatiously, bringing your dainty manicured hand to his lips as you blushed at his gesture. 

Hearing your dad scoff under his breath, he smirked in response. 

“I'll be back gentlemen. Have to tend to the wife real quick,” your father said to the group of men before leading you away to take you inside 

Watching as you looked back at him as you were being dragged away, he sent you a wink. Feeling your cheeks warm in response you turned back around before walking into the house 

Finishing his whisky, he sat his glass down before going to talk to the other partygoers. 

As the night went on he watched as you sat close to your mother as she mingled with the other wives. You sat idle checking your nails occasionally as you listened to the mothers talk about their sons and how they would love to meet someone as gorgeous as you. 

You looked uninterested and very bored with the conversation at hand. Scanning the garden full of partygoers you locked eyes with Arthur as he drank from his glass.

Looking away shyly you excused yourself abruptly from the group of women before walking away to make your way to the front of your estate. You walked to the front where all the carriages were parked as you walked over to the fountain. 

“‘Cuse me, miss,” you heard a deep voice ring

“Oh, well, good evening,” you greeted shyly, turning around to see Mr Morgan descending the porch steps.

Making long strides to get to you, he stopped right in front of you before tipping his hat at you 

“It's pretty dark out ‘ere, doncha think, sunshine,” he asked, looking into your chocolate eyes.

His voice was so alluring you had to fight to keep the conversation alive 

“Well yes, I suppose. I just needed to escape all the gossiping mothers,” you said before giggling. 

As the two of you made small talk he got a generous whiff of the gentle scent of the vanilla perfume oil that adorned your body. The rushing of the wind aids in your perfume filling his nose. 

“What do you do for your work Mr.Morgan,” you asked curiously. 

Biting the inside of his cheek, he thought of a good enough answer to tell you. Knowing your father probably told you something different than what he does to scare you away from him.

“I do a little bit of everything, sweetheart,” he said with a smile.

Giving a ‘hm’ you let it go for now. 

“You mind if we sit down by the fountain,” you asked wanting to take the pressure off your feet that heels gave 

Inviting you to lead the way the sound of the heels clacking on the pavement as you walked to sit on the marbled edge of the fountain before swinging your legs to the side and crossing them. 

Locking eyes with the handsome man in front of you with the scruff facial hair and dark, mysterious eyes you began to grow the slightest bit of nervous. Your father instructed you not to speak to him but here you were in your family's courtyard talking to the man you weren't supposed to be conversing with. 

It was thrilling.

All the men your mother brought around weren't as mysterious as the man sitting in front of you. You wanted to learn more about who he was. 

“Might I say, you’re gorgeous.” he complimented breaking you from your thoughts 

“Why thank you, Mr.Morgan,” you said shyly before playing with your loose braid looking down as your cheeks heated in embarrassment

“You can just call me Arthur, sugar.” he corrected you before putting his hand under your chin so that your eyes could meet again

Gulping in nervousness, you avoided his gaze not wanting to get under whatever spell he was trying to put on you. He was a gorgeous man, and he knew it. You were captivated by him.

“No need to be nervous sweetheart I won't hurt ya” he laughed noticing your wandering eyes before scooting closer to you 

Hearing your breath hitch under your breath he smirked. You were adorable, seeing how you got shy under his gaze made him want to test the waters with you. Not caring what your father had to say 

“Hey, look at me,” he said gently but with some bass in his voice 

Eyes flickering up quickly at him your eyelashes fluttered and you peered into his dark eyes. Bringing his head closer to your neck he laid gentle kisses on your supple skin hearing the low mewls you gave of satisfaction. 

“M’daddy said ‘m not supposed to be talking to you, Mr.Morgan.” you hiccuped.

“I told you to call me Arthur sweetheart and aren't you old enough to make decisions for yourself?” he responded as you felt his breath fan over your neck 

“Well yes, but I dont wanna get in trouble, sir,” you explained before clearing your throat

Grunting softly at you calling him ‘sir’ he asked if you would like him to stop his teasing ministrations 

The thoughts about your father flew out of the window. To hell with him. 

Whispering a no you felt him attack your neck before kissing down to get to your collarbone. Leaving light kisses along it, you sighed in pleasure feeling his soft lips upon your skin. 

Pulling away he looked into your shimmering eyes that captured the moon before bringing your face towards his to kiss you

“Sweetheart are you out here-?” you heard your father's strong voice ring out 

Eyes shooting open you quickly came back to reality before standing up and fixing your dress

“‘M right here Daddy what's wrong,” you asked curiously 

“Your mother told me you’d been gone for a moment. Just was checking on ya.” 

Seeing Arthur still sitting along the edge of the fountain he looked back at you in confusion

“He’s not messing with ya is he sweetheart?” your father asked becoming protective over you

“No, Daddy he's not. He came out to check up on me” You reassured your father 

Giving him a side eye he left it alone before telling you that you needed to come in soon as the party was dying down for the night. Telling him ok you quickly waved him off before going back to Arthur 

“‘M sorry bout that Arthur-” you apologized

“‘'s fine, I should get going, sweetheart,” he said while fixing his hat on top of his head 

Swiftly giving you a kiss on your lips your eyes fluttering in response you kissed him back before throwing your arms over his neck and propping a foot up as you felt his rough hands go down to your hips to keep you steady 

Pulling away, you gave a shy giggle before bidding him goodnight.

“Write me some time, ya hear?” he chuckled before letting you go and kissing you on the cheek 

“I-I will!” you exclaimed with a big grin on your pretty face. “Good night, Arthur!” 

He watched as you scurried as fast as your heels took you back into your estate before looking back sending a shy wave and closing the front door.

[skamenglishsubs]

Young Royals and pronunciation

I've been listening to a ton of reaction videos and podcasts about Young Royals now, pretty much everyone apologizes for butchering their names, and then they proceed to butcher their names. So I decided to put together a little guide, because this is an educational tumblr after all!

First up, it's perfectly fine to go with your language's version of the names. William, Guillaume, Szymon, Simón, it's all good. Languages have local versions of names for a reason, we adapt things all the time.

Secondly, there is no one true way of saying their names, the actors in the show say the names in different ways, because it depends on context and emphasis. There's a range of pronunciations in Swedish.

And the third thing to keep in mind is that it's impossible to pronounce their names in Swedish in the middle of a non-Swedish sentence. This is because the sounds of a language, the phonemes, don't blend well with the phonemes of other languages. When we talk, we don't actually pause between words, we blend the words together, and those rules break down if we switch language mid-sentence. So either you have to pause around the word, which breaks the flow, or you have to adapt either the word or the sentence.

If you've listened to the dubbed version of the show, you will have heard examples of this. Either people speak English with a Swedish accent, in which case the phonemes blend, and the Swedish names just fit in nicely. Or they have less of an accent, and speak the names with an English accent, to make them blend, to make them fit.

And that last option is pretty easy to do. With some small changes to the English version of the names, you'll be much closer to the Swedish originals, and it'll still sound great when you speak normally.

Let's start with Wilhelm. Go ahead and watch this edit of various characters saying his name:

The biggest difference is that Swedish doesn't have the 'w' sound that English has. We have the letter, but we got it from German, so we call it a double-v, not a double-u, and it's pronounced exactly like a regular v. Compare how Madison says the name in the middle of that video with how everyone else says it. But English has the sound, if you can say village or very or volume, you've got the v sound right.

The second 'l' and the 'h' is optional. When Simon and Rosh talk about him on the bus, they mock him by enunciating clearly, because it sounds posh. Wilhelm himself usually drops the second 'l' if you listen carefully. So the range of pronunciations go from Villem to Vilhem to Vilhelm, the only important part is to get the initial 'v' right. Think of him as Vilhelm in the Village.

I've made a similar edit for Simon, so go ahead and listen to people saying his name:

The biggest difference here is that in Swedish, both vowels are plain, there's no diphthong like in the English version. Compare how the English reporter says it, versus everyone else. He's saying sigh-mon with a diphthong, when everyone else says sea-mon.

Linda is saying her son's name in Spanish, so the vowels are slightly different, but the most noticeable difference is that she stresses the second syllable, so she says sea-MON, when everyone else says SEA-mon. Keep the stress on the first syllable. However, there are no diphthongs in Spanish either, but I've heard a lot of reactors or podcasters pronounce his name as "sea-moan", and I have no idea where that comes from. Please don't. You're killing me. Just think of him as Simon the Sea-monster.

[blackjackkent]

Ask prompt fill for @astreamofstars for this ask meme: Questioning Sentences, Vol. 33 Jaheira/Khalid (and others) - “Are you getting my wife into trouble?” Two fills for the price of one cos I couldn't decide if I liked this idea or the other one better for this prompt so I did both. XD Set during Siege of Dragonspear, but doesn't include any spoilers.

-----

“All right.” Caden sways blearily on his feet, gesturing with the tankard in his hand. “Are you ready… for the master plan?”

“Minsc is ready,” Minsc agrees eagerly. “For a plan which Caden makes is masterful indeed!’

They make a rather comical tableau, gathered together in the shadows at the edge of the coalition camp. Caden is pacing unsteady circles, occasionally stopping to lean on one of the nearby trees. Nearby, Minsc and Rasaad sit side by side; Minsc has drained his mug completely and his eyes are wide with inebriated enthusiasm, while Rasaad is holding himself to ramrod stillness, the alcohol only evident in the slightly unfocused look in his eyes and the amused smile playing around his lips.

And there’s the cat, of course, which is prowling through the grass around Caden’s feet. Unlike Caden and the others, though, the cat almost melds into invisibility with the shadows. Its fluffy coat is dark gray except for a stripe of white along the tail, leaving the glint of its eyes the only obvious sign of its presence.

“Steady, Caden,” Rasaad says with a low chuckle, watching his friend take another gulp of ale. “If you are not careful, I believe you might pitch over.” 

He takes a sip from his own mug and glances over her shoulder back towards the center of the camp. No one seems to have noticed them sneaking off; most of the army has gone to sleep and the fires are burning low. The guards on watch are attentive to threats from the outside, and they have little interest to spare for the erstwhile Hero of Baldur’s Gate and his friends lurking drunkenly outside Torsin de Lancie’s tent.

“Nonsense,” Caden says gravely. “My balance is perfect and my ideas better still. Now--” He points at the cat, who is watching him with a glassy-eyed attentiveness, its tail lashing back and forth. “The key to it all.” He swings his hand in a wide arc and points dramatically into the darkness. “...A hole.”

Minsc turns his head to peer in the direction Caden is pointing and the wall of dark green canvas that sits there. “A tent,” he corrects Caden earnestly.

Caden blinks, then releases a very uncharacteristic giggle and downs another mouthful of his drink. “Nooooo,” he says, over-enunciating. “There’s a hole in the tent.” He points again at the cat. “And you can fit through it.”

The cat mrowls thoughtfully, then flops over onto its side and rolls so it is looking at Caden upside down. 

“Exactly,” Caden says, nodding several times vigorously. “And then - havoc. Shred de Lancie’s shirts. Steal his sword. Whatever you can think of.”

“It would certainly serve him right,” Rasaad agrees. He smirks over the rim of his mug as he takes another sip. “We would send Caden himself, but we have all seen his attempts at subtlety.”

“Shuuuush…” Caden whines, laughing, and punches Rasaad gently in the shoulder. This does, in fact, overbalance him and he sits down hard in the grass next to the tent’s front peg. “Oof. Well?” He grins goofily at the cat. “What d’you think?”

The cat climbs slowly and methodically up Caden’s arm until it is balanced on his shoulder, and begins to knead its claws vigorously into his shirt.

“Ow.” He grunts. Reaching up, he picks the cat up and sets it back on the ground, climbing unsteadily back to his feet. “I’ll take that as a yes. C’mon, Rasaad and Minsc and I will keep guard, and you can--”

He stops abruptly as, turning, he bumps into a man standing in his way who seems to have materialized out of the shadows. “Oh. Hello, Khalid,” he says, blinking rapidly like a child caught raiding the pantry.

Out of armor, Khalid looks about an inch shorter and considerably less broad than he usually does; his mop of dark hair is mussed from his helmet and he’s dressed for bed in a loose, dark tunic and a pair of Calishite-style trousers. “G-good evening, Caden,” he says cheerfully; his weariness from the day’s travel is evident in the thickness of his stammer, but he grins good-naturedly. “Are you g-g-getting my wife into trouble?”

Caden cocks his head at the older man innocently, an effect marred a little as he sways back on his heels. “Dunno what you’re talking about,” he says.

“Mmhm.” Khalid peers past him at the cat who has begun to groom itself, its fluffy tail curled up over its back. “S-she is not in b-bed, and that c-c-c-cat looks familiar. Are you quite sure?”

Caden follows his gaze and shakes his head. “It’s just a cat,” he says, very seriously. 

Khalid laughs. “There is n-n-no fooling me, C-Caden, I’m afraid,” he says.

At the sound of his voice, the cat’s head suddenly shoots up. Darting past Caden, it hurls itself at Khalid’s legs and begins circling him, rubbing up against his shins and purring ecstatically. 

Khalid’s grin softens. “Y-you see?” he murmurs. Crouching down, he runs a hand slowly along the cat’s silky fur from head to tail-tip, and the purring rises in volume like the rumble of a distant thunderstorm. “I would kn-know her in every shape,” he murmurs. “Though… the s-s-s-stripe on her tail is a d-d-dead giveaway.”

The cat nips at his hand, and he chuckles. “Am I g-g-giving away your secrets, my love? I’m s-s-sorry.” He raises an eyebrow at Caden. “N-now - out with it. Are you g-g-getting my wife into trouble?”

There’s a low hissing sound, and the wildshape melts away, leaving Jaheira, curled awkwardly on the ground, pressed against his thigh. She looks up at him with a bleary smile and pokes him in the side. “How dare you?” she says reprovingly; the words, though carefully pronounced, have a distinct tipsy slur. “I do not need the boy’s help to get myself into trouble.”

“Ahhhhh, I s-see.” Khalid’s eyes widen and he juts out his jaw, mock-appalled. “A d-d-drunken band, the l-lot of you.”

“I believe you have mispronounced ‘criminal masterminds,’ Khalid,” Rasaad says with a sage nod. 

“Well, t-t-tell me, then,” Khalid says. His lips twitch with amusement. “What c-c-conspiracy can you be m-m-masterminding at this t-time of night?”

Caden downs the rest of his mug. “Messing with Torsin de Lancie’s tent,” he says matter-of-factly.

Khalid tilts his head slowly to one side. His eyes flick over the tent, to the hole in the fabric at its rear, then to Caden, then to Jaheira. Then he starts to laugh. “Ahhhh, I see,” he says, shaking his head ruefully. “Well… why d-d-didn’t you say so in the f-f-first place? C-carry on.”

[eris-snow]

HII I LOVE ALL UR FICS SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️ COULD U MAYBE WRITE A PART 2 TO THE AIZAWA AND HIS DAUGHTER FIC? IT WAS AMAZING ❤️ IF NOT THEN THANKS ANYWAYS ❤️❤️

Ask and you shall receive (Even if it is two months late)

The first part of it is here

----

“Y/n,” Monoma enunciated, smirk ready on his face as he walked up to your table. “Did you see the number of failures Class A got in comparison to ours? Pathetic, right?”

It is almost too easy to gossip about Class A. Whenever Monoma cackles to you about them, you engage him with snarky, poisonous words that part of you is ashamed of. You know they are good people. They’re all trying to be heroes, you are too, but their good-naturedness makes the words you spew more venomous as you try to get rid of the suffocating feeling squeezing your throat.

“They are,” You agree readily. “Can’t say I’m surprised, considering the ruckus they make every day. They try to get the limelight so badly, they don’t know how bad it looks on the surface.”

It feels good, you can’t lie, but part of you is also guilty for saying the things you did.

Your father means well, you know that. And it’s exactly because of it that it hurts.

Is it selfish? To want a father when every second he’s not there for you, he’s saving the world and touching the hearts of so many of his students who talk fondly of him?

You bite your lip, already regretting your fight with him the other day. There was no repairing this bridge now.

—

“Y/n?” Aizawa stops by your class when you’re on your way out. “Can I speak to you?”

Aizawa wants to kick himself in the gut.

He’s replayed your fight with him over a dozen times, sifting through his memories and alternate conversation lines he could have used to justify his defences.

Instead, he’s made more and more aware of how rarely he sees or actually talks with you after you’ve entered U.A. It’s jarring and frightening just how little he knows about your life.

He’s been a terrible father.

You cock an eyebrow at him, eyes empty and guarded. It’s defensive, he realises. As if you are expecting him to hurt you. Something inside Aizawa crumbled. Some hero he was.

“What do you want from me?” You mumble, frozen to the floor. His eyes are scary, they pin you there like nails to a board.

Your father’s eyes dilated a fraction, and it has you curling into yourself instinctively. Shit. You should have phrased it nicer, you should have kept your mouth shut or—

“Y/n, I’m not mad.” He reassures you, touching your hand. You don’t move an inch.

“Come on,” Aizawa pulls you along, and you wish you had the strength to pull away, but you pathetically allow him to drag you down the corridors to his Class’s dorm without resistance.

—

Silence engulfs the room when Aizawa closes the door to his room in Class A’s dorm.

He turns back to you, opens his mouth before watching you flinch back. He hates it. Hates that even without doing anything, you look like you’re on the verge of tears like a rabbit that’s trapped by his words. He never meant to do that to you.

“Are you hungry?” He asks instead, trying to cool the edge of his voice by the slightest bit. “You haven’t had lunch yet, so I can order something in if you want.”

You pause, careful and tense. “It’s fine. I can eat later.”

“Do you want to talk about school? What you did today?” He prompts, raising an eyebrow.

You have that look again. The look that shows that you do want to tell him something, but you’re holding yourself back. Your head shakes. “No.” You reply quietly.

“You can sit down here. I think I have—”

“What is wrong with you?” You snap, raising your voice and breaking the tense peace.

“Are you trying to make up for the past 5 years? Because I get it, okay? I get that you feel bad!”

“Y/n,” Aizawa tries to think through the fog of emotions, tries to find the right words to say but nothing comes to mind. “It’s not just that—”

“What else is there?” Your voice is hoarse, and he’s made you cry—again. He’s always making you cry. “I finally know my place, alright? I know that I’m not I’m not up there on your priority list, hell, I don’t even know if I’m on it. You know, for a time, I actually tried, really, really hard. I tried to initiate conversations and guise my feelings just to see you smile.” You sniffle, shaking your head.

Unlike the previous time, when your voice was a concoction of anger and pent-up word vomit, this time, you’re putting yourself down with a mixture of self-hate and sorrow. With words as sharp as knives, you belittle yourself. Aizawa hates that he’s the one who made you think of yourself like that.

“Stop trying to sugarcoat it! You don’t love me—!”

This time, Aizawa refuses to react to late. His body moves, and before you know it he has his arms wrapped around yours. You’re bigger now, around his shoulder level. He hasn’t hugged you in a long time.

“Of course I love you,” Aizawa whispered, pressing your head tight against his shoulder. His face is wet and, oh look, he’s crying too. “I haven’t shown it, I haven’t done a lot of things, but don’t ever think I don’t love you, Firefly.”

He can feel you stiffen against his body. He hasn’t called you that since your mother passed, and you didn't think you would ever hear him call you that ever again. The sobs that wrench themselves out of your lips are heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry,” He mutters, hugging you tighter. “I didn’t mean to neglect you in the way that I did, so please…” He says, voice wrecked with guilt. “Give me another chance.”

He wants to try. Try to make it up to you because he’s already missed most of your life by dwelling too much on someone who was already gone.

He needs to make it up to you. What kind of hero would he be if he couldn’t?

You crumble like a house of cards, sobs consuming your being a whole as he desperately holds you together with his two bare hands.

You don’t say anything to him, and he doesn’t anymore to you, but you cling onto him tight like you’re afraid he’s going to let go.

And he clutches you back, knowing that this is exactly what you need.

---

I know quite a few people have been requesting for this even though it was written quite a while back, so thank you for requesting for this! I hope you enjoyed this and have a beautiful day/afternoon/night ❤️

[cc-ichigo-kurosaki]

Checking in [Ichigo & Toshiro]

cc-ichigo-kurosaki “ I see you’re working hard as always,Toshiro. Don’t forget to take a break once in a while, yeah? --- By the way, do you want this white chocolate egg? ”

@ryusxnka answered

━━━━༺ ᵒ ༻ ❖ ༺ ᵒ U nwarranted comments, diminutive or otherwise, concerning his work ethic, will perpetually, and sans an iota of cessation, infuriate him to the crux -- chafing, in effective torrents, 'gainst his temperament like perilous waves endeavoring to asphyxiate and extinguish any existent forbearance he may be withholding amidst the reservoir of his thought-plagued cranium. ----- He will take a suspension once he's well caught up with his interminable paperwork. - when he's mentally satisfied with its overall progression. ---- Proffesionalism percolated translucently 'pon his flesh akin to rain that had impured itself 'gainst the parched asphalted grounds. -- Individuals, comparable to the visitating substitute, effortlessly perceived it, they fretted, and he'd merely groaned in retaliation. Occupational extremities employed their dexterous diligence by utilizing a steadfast writing apparatus, a brush whose strokes were smudged with densely inked permanence, dutifully and wholeheartedly. He marches onward in the semblance of an ambitious toy soldier - through and through - no matter the deterrents. ---- Be that as it may be, however,he was still wholly cognizant of his limitations therefore Ichigo's words were naught but a wasteful breath. - A chocolate egg is unexpectedly offered thereafter and the adolescent audibly scoffs, Eyne never deviating from the reports at his forefront. Puerility at its highest decree, he thinks." You came all this way for that, Kurosaki? " he enunciated assertively, his tonality integrated with a tinge of incredulity and an inkling of ennui. " - Unless you have a convincing reason, you've only come to waste your time."

      ᵒ ༻ ❖ ༺ ᵒ ༻━━━━

Ichigo could tell, Toshiro was constantly in work mode. Even with the visit just now, it had to be convincing enough to not was his time.

“This is exactly what I mean, jeez…” Ichigo replied with a sigh. All work and no play, made this Toshiro a grumpy old man it seemed, completely not acting his age.

“As someone who keeps working his ass off. I just figured you deserved a little something, that’s all,” he explained, leaving the chocolate egg on his desk. “I can tell you’re busy, so I’ll leave you to it.”

With that said, Ichigo turned to start leaving, then looked back at Toshiro for one last thing to say. “And by the way, I don’t think it’s a waste of time checking up on you while I’m passing by, Toshiro.”

[shiningwonderland]

Otoya Ittoki (Repeat)

Translator: Mae (Twitter: itoshikimaegirl)

Proofreader: Raz (Twitter: agnadance)

Editor: Aoi (Twitter: AoiTsukihime)

QA: Rei (Twitter: wolfe_raine)

November — Analyse Going Nowhere

After the festival, the school was closed for three days. Today is my first day back since then.

Haruka Nanami: … Good morning.

Tomochika Shibuya: Good morning, Haruka.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Good morning, Nanami-san.

Masato Hijirikawa: Good morning… …? What’s this? You seem unwell. 

Haruka Nanami: Oh, I-I’m fine. I’m just a little tired…

Back then…

At the school festival… Otoya-kun tried to kiss me. And then…

I pushed him away with all my strength. The thought that he might hate me now… is a little scary.

It’s been on my mind for days, even keeping me from being able to sleep. I’ve been trying to consider what would be best for Otoya-kun and myself…

Do I… Maybe I like Otoya-kun romantically…?

On and on,  my thoughts swirled around until I wasn’t sure what to think anymore.

After the school festival, we didn’t have any contact with each other.

Before the stage performance, we said that we would kick off the festival and then have a meeting after to reflect on how we did. 

Now I’m worried we’ll be too nervous to meet up.

I wonder how I should act when I see him again.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Oh, that’s right. I saw your performance! You both looked wonderful.

Haruka Nanami: T-thank you very much.

Masato Hijirikawa: Mm. Adding a dialogue exchange in the middle was a rather nice touch too. 

Oh…

That part where I messed up a little, is that what they thought it was?

Masato Hijirikawa: However, it would be good if you worked on your vocalization and enunciation a bit more. 

Masato Hijirikawa: Even if you don’t plan to perform onstage in the future, it would be easier to convey your ideas to vocalists if you have a certain level of singing ability.

Masato Hijirikawa: The earlier you begin, the better, especially when it comes to vocalization. Tsukimiya-sensei said that whether you can build a foundation in your teens or not makes all the difference later on. 

Haruka Nanami: Right. … I’ll do my best.

Tomochika Shibuya: Now that you mention it, Ringo-chan seems to struggle with vocalizing well, huh? 

Natsuki Shinomiya: Ringo-sensei must have slacked off when he was a student.

Otoya Ittoki: Mornin’!

Natsuki Shinomiya: Good morning.

Masato Hijirikawa: Morning.

Tomochika Shibuya: G’morning! 

Haruka Nanami: Eh… um… g-good morning…

I can’t face Ittoki-kun properly, so I turn my face away.

Otoya Ittoki: Morning! Haruka. Hey, why are you looking away?

Haruka Nanami: That’s…

Otoya Ittoki: Is it ‘cause you don’t like me?

He leans in, closer and closer.

His face being so close makes me blush—it reminds me of how we almost kissed.

Haruka Nanami: That’s not… true… exactly. But…

Otoya Ittoki: But what? Actually, are you still thinking about “that”?

Haruka Nanami: That… that’s…

Natsuki Shinomiya: … Huh? What’s going on? Things feel a bit off between you.

Masato Hijirikawa: Did something happen at the school festival? If you’re troubled, you can talk to me about it.

Masato Hijirikawa: I may not be of much help, but I think I could at least offer some advice as a friend.

Otoya Ittoki: How to say this… At the school festival, I got a little overexcited. I tried to kiss her and she ran away…

Haruka Nanami: Eh, u-um. You shouldn’t say it so casually!

Otoya Ittoki: Eh? I shouldn’t? But that’s what happened…

Masato Hijirikawa: Ittoki… Come here for a moment. I need to talk to you.

Hijirikawa-sama grabs Ittoki-kun’s shoulder firmly.

Otoya Ittoki: Eh… um… Wait… Masa, that look is terrifying…

Masato Hijirikawa: Just come here!

At last, Ittoki-kun surrenders and allows himself to be dragged away by Hijirikawa-sama. 

Tomochika Shibuya: Masayan is the type who stays cool when he’s upset. Those types are always scary when they get angry.  

When they return after a few minutes, Otoya-kun’s face is pale. … I wonder what happened to him. 

Ringo Tsukimiya: Good morning, everyone~ Come on, hurry and take your places. 

Tsukimiya-sensei arrives and everyone takes their seats. 

But… There’s a noticeable amount of empty seats. Maybe people got sick after the school festival…

Ringo Tsukimiya: … Ah… Oh my, seeing it like this, the numbers have dwindled a lot.

Ringo Tsukimiya: As some of you may know, during the school festival, a student who was breaking the no-love rule was discovered by Shiny… The principal detained them.

Ringo Tsukimiya: The student was judged as a serious offender and consequently expelled. 

Murmur. Murmur, murmur. 

The classroom erupts in turmoil.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Alright, alriiight. Settle down~ See, you all may underestimate how strict the no-love rule is, but…

Ringo Tsukimiya: It’s an absolute decree from the principal. No one in this school, no—no one in this industry—can stand in opposition to him.

Ringo Tsukimiya: So, please. Please do not put yourself in the line of fire. 

…

If you fall in love, you’ll be expelled from the academy. It’s something I’ve heard about many times. Even the principal has said it…

But… I still can’t believe someone was actually expelled. 

Classmates who were laughing here a week ago are gone now. They must have had dreams of their own.

Haruka Nanami: Sensei!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Hm? What is it, Haru-chan?

Haruka Nanami: What exactly did the people who were expelled do?

Whoosh. The class seems to gasp in unison.

H-huh? Did I say something funny?

Select the Phrase!

ダメ･･････でしょうか? Did I… say something wrong? (+5 Love +10 Music)

Ringo Tsukimiya: Specifics… that’s a pretty daring question. But, very well. I’ll tell you. 

す、すみません。P… pardon me. (+0 Love +0 Music)

Ringo Tsukimiya: You’re fine, Haru-chan. “It might be me in the future,” right? I’d want to know too.

どうしても知りたくて。I’d really like to know. (+10 Love +5 Music)

Ringo Tsukimiya: Quite the enthusiastic one, aren’t you? I wonder if you’re in love too? Hehehe. But, alright, I’ll answer your question.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Well, there’s been a variety of behaviors, but I think one of the most obvious ones was the kids who were kissing in the garden.

Kiss…

Ringo Tsukimiya: Even though they were caught the moment they kissed, they tried to smooth things over which only incurred Shiny's wrath.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Well, it did seem like some students got off with just a suspension, but it’s up to Shiny in the end. 

Ringo Tsukimiya: There aren’t any hard and fast rules, exactly. It’s just up to Shiny and whatever suits his whim at the time. 

Ringo Tsukimiya: Well, I understand getting passionate during events, but please look after yourselves. 

“Alright.” The class rings out in agreement, bowing their heads obediently. 

Select the Phrase!

気をつけよう。I’ll be careful (+5 Love +10 Music)

I don’t want to get expelled…

やっぱり恋愛はいけない。It’s true—it’d be bad to fall in love (+0 Love +0 Music)

I… have to avoid falling in love with him…

なんで恋愛はダメなんだろう Why can’t we fall in love? (+10 Love +5 Music)

Thinking on it, I don’t really know the reason.

Otoya Ittoki: I’m really sorry!

During lunchtime, Otoya-kun came to my seat, put his hands on the desk, and bowed.

Haruka Nanami: Huh…?

Otoya Ittoki: I wasn’t thinking. I’ll never do anything like that again.

Haruka Nanami: Um…

Tomochika Shibuya: Hey, just what did you do to him?

Masato Hijirikawa: Nothing much. I simply instructed him on how to treat women and girls. 

Masato Hijirikawa: I also scolded him and told him not to be careless when bringing up his love life, since there’s the no-love rule.

Tomochika Shibuya: Well… I guess anything’s fine if it makes things less awkward…

Haruka Nanami: U-um… I’m… also sorry… for running away. 

Otoya Ittoki: No, it was all my fault. Um, so…

Otoya Ittoki: I’d appreciate if we could just go back to normal, without making it a big deal.

Haruka Nanami: Yeah!

Haruka Nanami: Ah, but… Um, romance is off limits… If you upset the principal, you’ll get expelled…

Haruka Nanami: I really want to see you become an idol, Otoya-kun…

Otoya Ittoki: Right, thanks. I’m happy you feel that way.

I wondered what would happen after the other day, but I’m glad things seem back to normal.

After school, Otoya-kun called Tomo-chan and I—and then Hijirikawa-sama and Shinomoya-san—to the rooftop. 

Otoya Ittoki: Oh, nice. You guys actually showed up. 

Tomochika Shibuya: Of course we come when called, but we don’t exactly have a ton of free time, so if this is for something trivial, I’m gonna be mad.

Otoya Ittoki: It’s not trivial at all! I’m super serious.

Natsuki Shinomiya: It's something serious? 

Masato Hijirikawa: That’s enough preamble. State your business.

Otoya Ittoki: Right. Hang on. So, we know there’s a no-love rule, but aren’t you curious why the principal made that rule?

Haruka Nanami: What…?

Otoya Ittoki: … I mean. We’re going to be singing a lot of songs about love and romance.

Otoya Ittoki: They always tell us that we should be singing with all our hearts, that we should put our feelings and souls into our songs in order to try and convey our visions and emotions. 

Otoya Ittoki: But… if I become a professional and sing about love and romance without knowing anything about them, I know I won’t be able to reach the audience.

Otoya Ittoki: But even so, the principal is dead-set on banning “love” at this school. It’s completely ridiculous!

Tomochika Shibuya: Maybe so, but… He’s the one who made the decision. There’s no way we can reason with him.

Otoya Ittoki: But if he feels so strongly about it, there must be a reason, right? That’s what I want to find out.

Otoya Ittoki: I love singing… and, just until a little while ago, I was happy as long as I was able to sing. But… that’s not enough. I’d like to be able to express myself and convey my thoughts properly.

Otoya Ittoki: I believe that songs can convey what words or music on their own cannot. 

Otoya Ittoki: I guess I just want people to know who I am. I’m here. This is the person I am. 

Otoya Ittoki: I want to be able to convey myself through song. If I remove “love” from who I am right now, I think I’ll definitely turn into a boring version of myself. 

Haruka Nanami: That won’t happen. You’ve always sparkled from the first time I met you.

Otoya Ittoki: Really? Then don’t I sparkle even more now? I’m really happy right now. If I lost the love I feel, I’d be half as charming. For sure.

Otoya Ittoki: I don’t want that. I want to sing about myself with all my might. I want to put my feelings of love and affection into my songs. 

Otoya Ittoki: I want to shout “this is me!” I want to be accepted as I am.

Otoya Ittoki: In order to do that, I have to do something about the no-love rule.

Haruka Nanami: Otoya-kun…

Otoya Ittoki: That’s why… I just wanted to ask for your guys’ help.

When Otoya-kun says that, we all look at each other.

Masato Hijirikawa: Still, the person we’re up against is the principal of Saotome Academy. 

Natsuki Shinomiya: It might be quite difficult, huh…

Tomochika Shibuya: What about you? Do you want to find out? Or do you want to let it lie?

Tomo-chan turns and asks me.

Tomochika Shibuya: If one were the principal’s age, you might just take the stance from the time that “idol’s shouldn’t fall in love.” 

Tomochika Shibuya: Wanna risk it all to find out?

Select the Phrase!

音也くんが知りたいなら。If Otoya-kun wants to know… (+20 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: For me…? Ah, what the heck, I’m really happy. Thanks, Haruka.

Tomochika Shibuya: Yeah, yeah, your relationship is great, we get it.

それほどでも…………。Not that much… (+0 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: Eh, really…?

Haruka Nanami: I think the principal must have considered it deeply. But… I guess I might want to know…

私も知りたいかも。I kind of want to know too (+10 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: I think the principal must have his own reasons. 

Haruka Nanami: However, I don’t think it’s right to blindly follow him without knowing what those are. 

Otoya Ittoki: I thought you’d say that. Thanks.

Otoya Ittoki: As for our official strategy: first, I’m going to ask the principal directly.

Otoya Ittoki: While I’m doing that, I want you guys to ask the other teacher or anyone who knows about the principal’s past. 

Otoya Ittoki: I’m certain the principal must have failed in a romantic relationship in the past. That’s why he’s so against it. I’m begging you guys. 

Natsuki Shinomiya: Wow, a decoy strategy? It sounds kind of exciting. Okay. I’ll go along with it.

Masato Hijirikawa: Since you’re my friend and you’re asking with such urgency, of course I can’t refuse. Very well, I’ll help out however I can.

Tomochika Shibuya: Sheesh, I guess that’s it, then. I’ll give it all I’ve got!

Otoya Ittoki: You guys! Thank you!

Otoya Ittoki: … Let’s go. Okay?

Haruka Nanami: Right…

Afterwards, we had a brief strategy meeting, and it was decided that Hijirikawa-sama would ask Tsukimiya-sensei and Tomo-chan would ask Hyuga-sensei.

Then, Shinomiya-san heads to the library to research into the principal’s past while Otoya-kun and I distract him from interfering with anyone else. 

Knock knock.

Otoya-kun knocks on the door to the principal’s office. 

Shining Saotome: Occupied!

Otoya Ittoki: Occupied, I see—wait, this ain’t a bathroom stall! … Oh, well… Principal, I’m coming in!

The door opens with a creak.

Shining Saotome: HA HA HAAA~ I will answer your question!

Otoya Ittoki: What do you mean “answer?” I haven’t asked anything yet!

Shining Saotome: HA HA HA!! I know what students are thinking as well as the back of my hand!

Otoya Ittoki: …

Principal. By any chance, have you realized what we’re up to?

Shining Saotome: Hehehe. The title of school principal is no joooke!

Shining Saotome: BUT. It’s rude to ask a lady her age, you know. I cannot tell you what age is ME. I’m still a big idoool.

Otoya Ittoki: No, principal, you’re not a lady. Anyway, I don’t want to know the age of some old man to begin with.

Shining Saotome: OH. What a heartless thing to saaay! What would your parents look like if they heard that? 

Otoya Ittoki: You already know, don’t you? I don’t have parents.

Shining Saotome: … Yes, that’s true… I take it back. My apologies.

Huh? The principal, just now—he was speaking normally…

Otoya Ittoki: I’ll ask you flat-out! Why is love forbidden here?

Otoya Ittoki: We’re going to sing about love and romance without even knowing anything about it! It’s ridiculous! 

Shining Saotome: … It’s not ridiculous!

Otoya Ittoki: Answer me, old man!

Shining Saotome: Because it’s not allowed.

Otoya Ittoki: That’s not a good reason.

Shining Saotome: …

Is it just me, or… Principal, you don’t seem to be as spirited as usual. Why is that?

Shining Saotome: Without love, no songs can be born. No people can be born. But love…

Shining Saotome: Immature love only brings misfortune.

… Eh? The school principal is speaking normally!

Otoya Ittoki: Well, listen here. Is it bad to like someone? 

Otoya Ittoki: I want to do things for that person, and even smiling at them alone makes me happy. 

Otoya Ittoki: I want to do whatever I can for that person. Is that feeling also a sin?

Shining Saotome: If we regulate even the act of having feelings, there would be no more students! If it’s only the feeling, I’ll allow it. 

Shining Saotome: BUT dating is no good, no good, no good! Only feelings are allowed! Only one-sided love is allowed!

Shining Saotome: Even if you actually have feelings for each other, if you don’t confirm them, they will remain unrequited.

Otoya Ittoki: Like I said, what makes that so wrong? Wanting to be together forever, knowing that we both feel the same way.

Otoya Ittoki: I don’t want to deny my interest in others! It’s natural, isn’t it? Even you think so too, right, Principal? 

Shining Saotome: Feelings are not a sin. However, feelings that are too strong bring tragedy. 

Ah, the principal looks terribly sad again.

However, it’s only for a moment before his expression returns to normal.

Shining Saotome: HA HA HAAA~! That’s all I’ll say! Now, if you’d kindly, hurry up and get out of here.

Otoya Ittoki: What’s that? Aren’t you just dodging the question? I’m not going anywhere.

Otoya Ittoki: I just want to know why you’re so against love! You jerk!

Slam!

Ittoki-kun pounds on the principal’s desk. A book that was sitting there falls down, sending a piece of paper floating to the ground.

Otoya Ittoki: Huh? That’s…

Ittoki-kun reaches for the letterhead by instinct. But…

Shining Saotome: Absolutely not, not, nooot!

The principal hurriedly grabs the paper and hides it behind his back. 

Shining Saotome: A-anyway! Sometimes it’s better not to know! Otoya-san, please take that to heart!

Ah... The principal just called Otoya-kun by his name. 

Shining Saotome: Never mind that and just get out of here! AND, if you try to look into ME, know that it’s use-use-useless! Kindly give it uuup.

The door closes as we’re ejected from the room.

Otoya Ittoki: Darn it!

Otoya-kun strikes the door with a loud thud.

Haruka Nanami: Um… Otoya… kun.

Otoya Ittoki: … What?

Haruka Nanami: Why are you so worked up about the principal?

Haruka Nanami: Besides just learning about the no-love rule, you seem like you want to know about him in particular, Otoya-kun.

Otoya Ittoki: … Earlier, I mentioned I don’t have parents.

Haruka Nanami: Yeah.

Otoya Ittoki: I don’t think my father was around when I was born and my mom died when I was very young. Honestly, I don’t remember much about them.

Otoya Ittoki: Just that… My mother used to sing to me. Apparently she was a person who loved singing… I don’t remember anything else.

Otoya Ittoki: The reason why I’ve been able to live well is because there was an older guy who’s been helping me from behind the scenes. 

Haruka Nanami: …

Otoya Ittoki: I never learned who exactly he was—I never met him.

Otoya Ittoki: I only… saw him through the window one day. I watched his back as he was leaving the orphanage. 

Otoya Ittoki: I thought that he had long legs. I also remember thinking his feet were big. I remember it well because he left footprints. 

Otoya Ittoki: Well. One time, I saw the principal on TV, and the way he looked from behind, he reminded me of that older guy in the moment. 

Haruka Nanami: The principal?

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah. But the old man is a very famous idol, so I told myself it couldn’t possible be true. Still, I wondered…

Otoya Ittoki: Besides, the principal was my mom’s favorite idol, so… I wanted to meet him no matter what.

Otoya Ittoki: I understand now. That man’s song was full of love. That’s why it ended up being such a hit. 

Oh, I think he means the song “For love…”

When the principal was an active idol, that song was a huge hit. It’s true that it’s an incredible song. I love it myself.

Otoya Ittoki: How could you not know love?! That old man… whenever I used to feel alone, I’d listen to his songs. 

Haruka Nanami: Really?

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah, sometimes I’d even cry while listening to it. It was my emotional support, that song. 

Otoya Ittoki: So, I thought… if I could sing too, I might be able to give someone else emotional support. Someone who needs it. 

Otoya Ittoki: Maybe I want to be needed by someone. Maybe I just want someone to look at me.

Haruka Nanami: Otoya-kun…

He’s probably been lonely for some time. 

Otoya Ittoki: Having an idea like becoming an idol is naive, sure. But I don’t regret choosing this path. 

Otoya Ittoki: I think it’s the best way for me to live my life. But since I’ve started, I’ve had a lot of hardship. 

Otoya Ittoki: I actually wanted to be an idol because of him, so that’s why I applied to this school. 

Otoya Ittoki: I obviously couldn’t afford the tuition, so I’m here on scholarship. If I don’t debut as an idol, I’ll be spending the next five years doing odd jobs around the agency. 

I… didn’t know that…

Otoya Ittoki: Anyway, that’s why I was so focused on him. I can’t believe he’s so determined to keep the no-love rule. 

Otoya Ittoki: I thought something must have happened to him. Something he’s been dragging behind him. 

Otoya Ittoki: Idols are in the business of selling dreams… Why does he say such a hollow thing? Isn’t that way too lonely?

Select the Phrase!

やさしいね You’re rather kind (+10 Love +5 Music)

Haruka Nanami: You’re really kind, Otoya-kun. You’re worrying about the principal and trying to do something to help him. 

Otoya Ittoki: It’s not like that. I just wanted to do it. It was actually kind of selfish of me.

うん Yeah (+10 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: I feel the same way. I hope the principal’s problem will be solved.

愛情って大事だよね。Love is important (+20 Love +5 Music)

Haruka Nanami: Otoya-kun, you were lonely too. But, now you have everyone else. … and I’ll also be by your side. 

Otoya Ittoki: !!! Haruka. You always know exactly what I want to hear. 

His large hand cups my head. Feeling Otoya-kun’s warmth, I find myself wanting to be his support too.

Afterward, we all meet back up in Otoya-kun’s room.

We deliberately chose to gather in the dorms because we were afraid we might be interrupted by the principal if we were inside the school

I wonder if it was a good idea to enter the boy’s dormitory…?

Otoya Ittoki: My roommate, Tokiya, said he’s going to be late today, so we can talk as long as we want. So, how’d it go? Did you guys find anything?

Natsuki Shinomiya: Shining Saotome. Real name: unknown. Height: 6’6”. Weight: 220 lbs. 

Natsuki Shinomiya: His debut single, “For Love…” was a massive hit, selling 20 million copies. His career up to that point is a mystery. That’s what I found.

Masato Hijirikawa: In short, everything aside from basic information is unknown…

Natsuki Shinomiya: … That’s right.

Masato Hijirikawa: Well, it was the same on my end. A few years ago, another student also tried to find out more about the principal’s past, just like Ittoki.

Haruka Nanami: What happened…?

Masato Hijirikawa: That student disappeared from not only the school but from the entire industry.

Masato Hijirikawa: “If you want to be an idol, don’t look into Shining Saotome’s past.” That’s what seems to be the unspoken rule in this industry.

Tomochika Shibuya: Yeah, same here. I was told not to ask about the principal.

Tomochika Shibuya: However! I was undeterred. I did a little digging and found some info.

Haruka Nanami: What kind…?

Tomochika Shibuya: Well, I heard that the school principal used to have someone precious. But remember, it’s just a rumor. Still…

Tomochika Shibuya: I heard that, even now, a large amount of his money is transferred to a private account periodically. Though, it might just be some kind of donation…

Tomochika Shibuya: The rumors say he might have a mistress or an illegitimate child.

Masato Hijirikawa: But isn’t Saotome supposedly a bachelor? Why not make her his wife instead of keeping her as a mistress?

Natsuki Shinomiya: Now that you say that, that would make sense, hm.

Tomochika Shibuya: Since it’s a rumor, take it with a grain of salt. I mean, the school principal has been single for a long time, right?

Tomochika Shibuya: Maybe it’s because he’s been single for a while that he’s envious of couples? 

Otoya Ittoki: No way! The principal isn’t like that. That’s not the kind of guy he is…

In the end, we can’t reach a real conclusion. Realizing that it would probably be better not to pry into the principal’s past any further, our classmates decide to let sleeping dogs lie.

And having decided that, they head back to their rooms.

Otoya Ittoki: Wait… Just a lil longer. That’s okay, right?

Haruka Nanami: Y… yeah.

I’m the only one Otoya-kun stops from leaving.

Otoya Ittoki: Remember that piece of paper that fell out when I hit the principal’s desk earlier?

Haruka Nanami: Huh…?

Otoya Ittoki: Actually, I wasn’t sure if I should tell you guys or not…I’m a little concerned about something…

Haruka Nanami: What are you concerned about?

Otoya Ittoki: I only caught a glimpse for a second, so maybe I’m wrong…

Otoya Ittoki: It was an old letterhead, and written in a woman’s writing: I want your dream to come true. Become a pro for sure.

Otoya Ittoki: It said something like that. At the end, it was signed like “I’m really sorry. All the best, Kotomi.” 

Otoya Ittoki: My actual mother… She was called Kotomi. … Is this a coincidence?

Haruka Nanami: EH?!

Otoya Ittoki: If my mother is related to the principal in some way, he might know something about my father. 

Otoya Ittoki: But I don’t know how to bring it up, ugh…

Saying that, Otoya-kun sighs sadly.

Otoya Ittoki: Sorry. I’ve kept you too long. I just wanted to tell you. 

Haruka Nanami: It wasn’t any trouble. Thank you for talking to me. Um… Otoya-kun… are you okay?

When I see his anxious expression, I feel worried.

Otoya Ittoki: If I say I’m not okay, will you stay with me until morning?

Select the Phrase!

はい、でも恋愛禁止令が･･････。Yes, but the no-love rule….  (+20 Love +0 Music)

Otoya Ittoki: Sorry. That was a lie. I’m kidding. But it’s true that I want to stay with you.

Haruka Nanami: U-um… Er… I want to stay with you too. So, if it’s just for a while…

When I say that, Otoya-kun gently takes my hand and smiles.

あの・・・・・・少しだけなら。Um… just a little bit (+10 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: Er… I-if it’s just until Ichinose-san gets back. Here…

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah. That’s fine. I feel like being near you right now.

朝まではさすがに･･････。Until morning is a bit… (+0 Love +0 Music)

Haruka Nanami: B-but… Since I want to be with you too… So… that…

Haruka Nanami: I’ll stay until Ichinose-san… gets back…

When I say that, Otoya-kun smiles happily.

Suddenly, Otoya-kun makes a serious face and looks into the middle distance.

Is he thinking about the school principal?

Otoya Ittoki: If he’s loved before, I wonder if the principal had a bitter experience with love in the past. That’s right—idols weren’t allowed to fall in love in those days.

Otoya Ittoki: But what if he fell in love anyway? And… what if he got his heart broken?

Otoya Ittoki: Yeah. No matter how firm a rule it is, the heart wants what it wants.

Otoya-kun mumbles as he rolls over to lie on his back.

Otoya Ittoki: … that makes sense, right?

Haruka Nanami: Eh…?

Otoya Ittoki: Maybe he just couldn’t stop himself… Wait, that’s it!

With a jolt, Otoya sits up.

Otoya Ittoki: In that case, it’ll be fine if I prove it! Never give up. There’s no thought that can’t be carried through!

Haruka Nanami: Otoya… kun?

From the side, Otoya’s face is full of confidence. He looks happy.

But, for some reason, my heart feels uneasy. 

I have a feeling that something terrible is going to happen in the future.

Still, if I’m with Otoya-kun, I feel like we can get over it together.

I gently place my hand on top of Otoya-kun’s.

Mini Game

Ringo Tsukimiya: Riiight. We’ll do a written test this time. Practical skills are important, but knowledge is important too, so do your best.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Studying doesn’t require much practice, so as long as you do your homework and reviews, you shouldn’t have any problems.

Ringo Tsukimiya: The format for the test is the same as before, but it might be a little harder than it was then.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Choose the correct answer from multiple choices. Now, begin!

S Rank

When I get to school the next morning, I find Otoya looking a bit down.

Seems he got a low score on his test.

Haruka Nanami: Um… cheer up… If you study hard, I’m sure you’ll get a better score.

Otoya Ittoki: Right, I’ve decided! Every day from now on, let’s come to class 30 minutes earlier! That way we can study together. 

Otoya Ittoki: If I study first thing in the morning while seeing your face, I’m sure I’ll be able to get a good score.

Haruka Nanami: Understood! I’ll start coming to school early tomorrow!

Chapter End

[crowning-art]

TGCF SPOILERS

____________________________________________

I AM OBSESSED! I LOVE LOVE LOVE HUA CHENG AND GOUSHI'S DYNAMIC! lmao of all the relationships I expected to love, this random, borderline in-law duo has got to be my fave!

Thus, Hua Cheng went forward, and held onto Guoshi's arm as if he was assisting an elderly senior. "Guoshi, sir, please. Watch your step."

Guoshi turned his head and saw the one assisting him wasn't Xie Lian, and knitted his brows.

"Huh? Why is it you?"

Xie Lian guessed that Hua Cheng was worried it might not be convenient for Xie Lian to take another person along. Also, Hua Cheng wanted, for the sake of some particular goal, to show himself off a little in front of the elder, to demonstrate some attentive diligence, which was why he offered to take over.

Seeing this, Xie Lian couldn't help but puff a laugh, hiding it with a light cough. "San Lang said very sincerely that he wanted to assist you, so I…"

As for Hua Cheng, he said, with a smile covering his face, "Does it matter if it's me or gege?

Besides, I respect you very much, sir, so of course I don't mind assisting, this is nothing."

Guoshi was speechless for a moment, then said, "If you really do respect me, then put away that fake smile on your face. That fakeness really is too much…"

Hua Cheng immediately put that smile away. "Oh."

I am so worried. The one time the snake eyes show up on the dice is probably gonna be the first and last time...and also the worst time

I KNEW MU QING WAS SUS!! I KNEW IT!! I CALLED IT! HE IS FAKE FOR SURE!

Hmmmm Feng Xin....I dunno....it seems kinda ✨️interesting✨️ how you can tell the body of your "enemy" from just his shadow 🤔 😏

Feng Xin enunciated, “It was precisely because the Heavenly Capital was ablaze, and there was firelight all over the ground. It reflected the shadow of that person behind me. Even though I didn’t get the chance to look back, when I fell, I saw the shape of that shadow and the attack move. It was your shadow!”

SO CUTE!! Rouye is #1 hualian stan and cutest cutie in the world

He steadied himself, and speechlessly picked up Ruoye, muttering at it, “You little traitor…”

Ruoye was wisely playing dead, laying unmoving. Xie Lian didn’t want to say any more to it either and threw it aside.

Lmao the way Fengqing had to constantly remind Xie Lian to not 'lose his marbles' every time he sees Hua Cheng and Xie Lian proceeds to do EXACTLY that lmaoooo

MU QING HAS A CURSED SHACKLE??? DUDE I AM SO SHOCKED THOOO FOR WHAT???? Also ugh so utterly disgusted with Jun Wu like excuse me??? What did u ask Mu Qing to do to Xie Lian that was so vile???? I am gonna slaughter Jun Wu myself rn

Equally sus of Mu Qing to go out of his way to save his "enemy" mmmmmm smt is up

who is real? Damn...imagine if they are all real and I'm just thinking they were fake and confused.

I get it, and especially because to cope with the trauma, Xie Lian either avoids it or jokes about it and ya...Hua Cheng baby boi has every right to be mad :(

Hua Cheng’s expression was terrifyingly dark, and he squeezed harder. “How did you plan on defending yourself? Put your sword down!”

This was the first time Hua Cheng had ever spoken to Xie Lian with this kind of expression and tone, and Xie Lian was completely taken aback.

Another one for the non-existent bingo I have made for tgcf, this time it's everyone surfing??? On corpses???

The three rode the mutants and flowed down with the current. As if they were rafting, the further down the stream they went, the steeper the hills became, and the faster the speed.

THIS HIT HARD OH MY GOD

“…BELIEVE ME! YOUR HIGHNESS, YOU KNOW I WASN’T LYING, DON’T YOU? YOU KNOW I WOULDN’T HAVE REALLY HARMED ANY OF YOU, RIGHT??”

“…”

The way he was begging Xie Lian, so full of hope, like he was hanging on to the last thread of his life, suddenly made Xie Lian remember another scene from another time. That time, when dusk was falling, many, many years ago, when he too begged Mu Qing with the same desperate hope—

“You know I wasn’t lying, right?”

How had Mu Qing answered him back then?

RELATIONSHIP GOALS FOR REAL THOO T-T GET U A MAN LIKE HUA CHENG AND NOTHING LESS

“But, only His Highness can decide on whatever he chooses. I will never oppose his decisions.”

I. AM. LOSING. MY. MIND.

Mu Qing had thought Xie Lian’s silence was him hesitating on whether or not to save him, but turns out Xie Lian was instead trying to think of how to save him. And thank goodness that Xie Lian could still think with such a clear head in such a dire situation.

The beads of sweat on his forehead were rolling thicker.

The moment he looked up, Xie Lian had extended a hand to him, smiling. “In any case, although a little late, this hand isn’t extended too late, right?”

YO DONT EVEN GET IT!! THIS IS BASICALLY EXACTLY LIKE THE BAMBOO HAT SITUATION AND I AM CRYING IN THE CLUB RN!! HE NEEDED ONE PERSON AND MU QING NEEDED ONE PERSON AND ALL IT EVER TAKES IS ONE PERSON! I LITERALLY CANNOT RN

Hua Cheng JUMPED AGAIN??? DJDJFJJFJF OH BOI WHERE IS THIS GOING NOW

[bisluthq]

I always wanted to like Ari's music because her voice is amazing but I couldn't stand the mumbling so I never listened to any albums fully. Now she's actually enuncianting and I'm obsessed with the album! It's so good. What songs are your favourites?

this is exactly my point! I LOVE her voice - but her lyrics have been a bit stupid and/or I couldn’t hear them. I liked thank u next a lot and that’s been about it of songs I listen to unironically and actually dig of hers but this whole album is absolute fire.

I really like I wish I hated you. I also like bye. And I like eternal sunshine. And I like imperfect for you. Idk I can’t think of a song off this album I don’t like tbh it’s fucking awesome all around. Fantastic lyrics and epic vocal performance and like it’s produced really well yk?

[yesterdayiwrote]

As a Brit, I think there are some very subtle regional differences between them.

To me personally, Alex has the 'poshest' sounding British accent. His is the closest to RP (received pronounciation) and actually, when you listen to him talk, I feel like he has the least quirks as well. Pronounces his syllables clearly, doesn't do any th-fronting (where your th- sounds become f or v), I can't say I've even heard him with a glottal stop (so where you say wa'er instead of water) or a consonant drop (where you don't enunciate the last letter and use a glottal stop instead so you might say ca' instead of caT) . He's been brought up more in the Home Counties (Buckinghamshire) so that figures but his pronounciation definitely falls into the posher end of the spectrum.

George is a funny one because he actually has ALOT of regional vocal quirks - when he's not thinking about it, but for whatever reason he seems to try and consciously sharpen them up but they do slip through occasionally. He pronounces world as 'weld', the 'u' in 'nuts' is more of an 'oo' sound than an 'uh' sound. I *think* I've also heard him sometime use a short a in words like Bath and path rather than a long a (so more of an arrr sound) - but don't hold me on that. If you go back, to listen to him in 2019 you can hear the change from how he speaks now. If you find a video of him when he was younger, it's even more obvious. He was born in Norfolk to a family with a farming background. I'm not sure of his whole family history but his dad supports wolves so I'm guessing there's a midlands connection in there and you can hear it in his little vocal quirks. The other thing that I think skews the perception of George's accent is his vocabulary. He doesn't sound especially posh to me, but he does use some 'posher' word choices. All the crikeys and blimeys... He also almost exclusively uses the word 'father' Ive noticed recently which is quite unusual and definitely reads posher.

Lando's accent is unusual because it's very obvious he's picked up vocal twangs from his mum. He has some West Country vocal quirks in there, but also some very European. He also does the opposite of George in that he seems to soften up his accent to sound less posh. When he's pissed off, I think his pronounciation is more clipped and enunciated. It's actually interesting to read you say his accent is 'just british' because (and I don't mean this in a derogatory way), sometimes when I hear him speak, his accent makes it sound to me like he's speaking English as his second language? Some linguists might be able to explain it better than me or put their finger on what it is that he does exactly - I think it's a kind of intonation/tempo thing - I honestly don't know, but I think that's why so many people don't read it as posh because it's the least stereotypical 'British' sounding.

I think the reason people get so confused by the differences is because British motorsports has a lack of regional accents - largely due to socio-economic reasons. Even Lewis has quite a well spoken, more refined 'British' accent, but people never seem to label him as posh because of it. Most drivers come predominantly from the South of England. Oliver Rowland in FE comes from Barnsley and even his accent is relatively tame considering.

Any of u British or know British F1Blr people? I just got curious about how British people read George, Lando, and Alex's accents respectively. To me (from the US) and a lot of US based fans the accents all kind of sound the same, which is why I think George gets the extra reputation to US fans of sounding "posh" when UK fans don't necessarily perceive him that way.

Meanwhile I've noticed that Alex's accent almost sounds like how the Royal Family talks on The Crown (flattening ahhs into ehhs, like pronouncing "lap" as "lep" and "accent" like "eccent"). And Lando just sounds like. British? IDK.