#mr. bumpkin

[fiendishartist2]

trying to act like i dont miss being a kid w shit all to do

[iplayghoul]

let the light in

xx: cowboys! eren & onyankopon x reader . .

9.9k words — life on a ranch, porn with plot, tension, feelings, eventual sex, fucking in.. mud & rain, reader is referred to as 'she', 'girlie' etc, use of 'daddy', lots of spit & being dirty, reader is a country bumpkin, light arguing, thumb in ass, pussy spanking, spitroasting, cunnilingus, crying, some squirting & creaming, lots of shortened words & punctuation (country dialect duhh), not proof read sorry, awkward moments.

notes: been writin dis since december 2023... enjoy u guys :] rbgs appreciated

“hiya mrs. brown!”

worn out boots of marble cake pink and brown swirls, graze the dirtied gravel near the elderly woman's cottage as you slip from the horse. mary-lou, you affectionately call her, dusting her pinked moist nose with a pat before hobbling onto the stone path. over the horizon, the pastel orange and yellows of the sun threaten to melt into your skin, kissing it golden as the morning begins and so do your deliveries. 

golden-blonde, french curl braids woven into your roots fall past your lower back ending in thick, loose curls, some held together by bows and others hair clips. they bounced with every step. mrs. brown was the first on your list of deliveries today. on cool mornings like this when spring teases its approach, you often bake little treats for the other villagers. apple tarts, blueberry jellies, cherry pies with freshly picked fruits, warm buttery honey-milk breads and healthy breakfast muffins: all made with ingredients grown at home! but, we'll explore the garden later.

calling this a village was a bit of a stretch, realistically, a happy delusion at most. acres of farm property was shared by each of the residents whose homes were nearby, despite the farm areas creating distances of land behind them. tok, tok, tok! the haste below mary-lou's hooves pulled you back to your task as you rearranged the goodies and stepped onto the wooden plank. mrs. brown sat atop her rocking chair, crocheting a blanket you'd commissioned. a chuckle, “ [  ] , dearest, always in y’head, aren't yuh?” mrs. brown softly muttered, deep brown skin crumpled besides her lips, short pastel curls tickling her ears. hands busied with the neapolitan coloured yarn. her countryside twang was a pleasant aerated tone, reminding you of your own parents. 

you huff and offer a smile. “mrs. brown I've—”, “must I remind you, dearest, eleonora,” the playfulness in her voice offers it a quiver. “and let me guess . . . cherry pie?” thin, quivering lips stretch to a smile, your plump ones mimic hers as you nod with a sweetened expression. “yes, eleonora, I know how much y’love cherry pies n’–”, “and my grandson does too, y'know!” you stop to stare at her as she wears nothing but a smug look on her face, her head bobbing side to side with a ‘you know damn well’ manner. 

eleonora lived mostly alone. when her daughter married, giving her a sole grandson they'd moved to the city. luckily for her, and you, her grandson moved back on his own to the country. he fixed cars, motorcycles, tractors– you name it, he's got it covered. she said his name was onyankopon or, ony’. to be honest, you spied around one time to catch a glimpse of him. back when you first moved in and eleonora became immediately smitten with the idea of you and her grandson as potential lovers, you snuck around where ony's ranch was, peaking at who the man could be. you barely saw him really, the small flash of him you saw all greasy with engine oil was so far away! but infatuation always grew in you from a small bud, slowly growing before flower petals started spilling out your throat.

“are ya’ stoppin by him too, darlin’?” she pries further, “I ‘dunno els’ . . . y'know I haven't actually met ‘em right?”, “oh I know dear,'' she breathes, “ he's strong, he's tall, he surely is handy ‘round the house and- and he's not ‘onna dem toxic masculine things i hear ‘bout on the Internet! I think he's had a boyfrien’ b'fore, that must count!” she relieves your hands of the heavy treats while speaking, “eleonora . . .”, “c'mon darlin’, you've got t'get married someday, n’ imma’ be the flower gal!” 

all you can do is shake your head and accept the sweet kiss to the cheek she offers you before trotting back to your horse. mary-lou grew rather impatient! settling her brown and white spotted body to the ground awaiting your return. to be completely honest, you craved love. the partying, sex and relationships of college got old and moving here right after left you high and dry with the weight of ‘unlovable’ bearing down on your shoulders. the lack of men your age was . . . a troublesome dilemma but who were you to complain? you hiked yourself back onto mary-lou and continued your journey to the next cottage home. 

looking over the blueberry skies and whipped cream clouds kept you in grandiose delusions of a love so pure and sweet, like powdered sugar that you could indulge in, maybe one day.

♡

“down girl, down!” 

The rough, deep voice shakes the silence near the upcoming ranch. after your deliveries, you'd end up with a few apple-cherry tarts remaining, sometimes the neighbours are vacationing in the city, or insist you keep some! by this time, the sun shone fully now, its warmth tingling your skin. “awe, shucks, man!” another voice caused your brows to furrow, peering up ahead at the ranch . . . the one in which eleonora's grandson resided. from what you could see without the sun in your eyes, two men of tall statures– roughhousing with gorgeous horses. the one in the cowboy's hat was doing a terrible job of trying to calm one of them. their manes were a beautiful silky white, shining healthily under the sun as they lifted their front legs to the air before trotting around the . . . shirtless men again. mother would scold you now if she could see you openly ogling at the two, you push that thought to the back of your mind.

mary-lou slows on your command beside their ranch gate, huffing and happily shaking out her mane as she watches the other horses play. something possesses you to hop off with the remaining tarts, awkwardly shuffling to the fence– your pink-brown boots were worn mismatched to your strapless white lace top and similar mini-skirt. “uh . . . howdy there fellas!” both men turned to your direction, blocking their eyes from the sun and beginning to stroll over.

the closer view made your breath catch in your throat. the one on the left, you assume is el's grandson, his skin was a dark mahogany brown, he glistened slightly with sweat in the sun, deeply defined muscles prelude veins below his belly button then covered by bright blue jeans and black cowboy boots to match his hat.

he had a handsome face. 

thick two-toned lips spread to reveal a bright smile, a few teeth plated with gold caps as he teased the man to his right. this man had dark, black, shining curls that rested atop his shoulders, two eyebrow slits decorated with piercings, matching ones on his . . . pretty lips. his skin was a dusted tan, sunkissed tone and he wore black jeans atop his brown boots. You couldn't miss the tattoos that crept up the side of his abdominals, you were curious.

“how c'n we help ya’, miss?” the left spoke up and your cheeks felt hot, it's been a while since you heard that pet name, you chalked it up to the blazing sun. “well, uh, you're eleonora's grandson, right?” you nibble on your nails nervously, he nods, “I just . . . thought it’d be nice to give y'all these extra treats i baked.” pushing the basket in their direction and allowing the dark haired one to peep under the cloth, he had a mischievous look to him and he elbowed the other in the ribs with a slick smile, “wass ya’ name, pretty? ‘m eren, dis is ony’,” he pointed between them, “ n’ y’made these y’self, ma’?” eren pulls out a tart, staring down at you through long eyelashes, “oh! uh I‘m [  ], n’ yes! I did n' I grew all'em fruits m'self too!” you bounce on the heels of your boots, nervously.

ony’ stays mostly quiet you've noticed, taking in your outfit as well, his eyes raking over you. eren warmly feeds him a bite of the tart as their horses trot over to mingle with mary-lou. “how long ya’ been livin’ ‘round here, sugar?” ony’ speaks up soft and mellow, grabbing himself his own tart to taste. eren reaches out to pet mary-lou. “i guess it’s been a about a year now! y’see i moved out ‘round here after college.” you nibbled your shiney bottom lip, “what ‘bout y’all? your grandma talks ‘bout you all the time, but, i ain’t really seen you round here?” you turn to eren who makes a kissy face at mary-lou before turning to you. “i mostly tend to the farm ma’, as y’can tell, ‘m better with the animals than ony’ here.” he flashes you a smile and props his arms against the fence biting his lip and lowering closer to your eye level. ony’ playfully smacks his arm, flashing a gorgeous smile with his gold teeth sparkling in the sun, “shut up, man.”

you look away quickly, catching yourself staring at his lips, he certainly doesn't miss it. you totally push the basket towards eren’s arms, “y’c’n have the basket y’know i always weave more, i’ve gotta get goin, now,” you rush, “wait– take m’ number, pretty,” eren offers before reciting it a couple times so you’ve got it down. “n’ which onna’ these ranches ‘s yours, mama?”, you're mounting mary-lou once more, “it's not too far! it's the ranch with the blue fence n’ the pond out front!” 

♡

the days after that remained uneventful, with no deliveries of any kind, you preferred to remain on the ranch tending to the animals and house work. you'd never texted eren, only saved his number and stalked his contact profile . . . and opened his chat section many-a-times without saying anything. taking a liking to someone new is hard. you don't forget the many times a partner toyed with you, assuming innocence and naivity of you based soley off your appearance, then doing whatever they'd wanted behind your back. you were past that now, hopefully at least; the concrete walls you used to block others out wasn't something you'd liked to be reminded of.

padding out the back door, the coldness of the stone path chills beneath your bare feet. your toes painted with the cutest design within your artistic range, accompanied by the musical arrangement of your anklet. you pick up a dirtied bucket with the many things you'd needed to complete your chores for the morning, taking a long look at the expanse of the ranch. 

a deep breath of clean air, healthy green fields relieve your eyes of their stress; partly cloudy skies was the forecast! weather for hanging outside, the cumulus clouds indicated it to be the perfect day for fishing too! the pond was still, the little lambs were just waking up in their pen, the gardenias were blooming; the white dexter cattle mulled around, seemingly bored behind the fence. just as you begin to walk by with the bucket of feed, the cows behind let out soft, deep ‘mooooo’s’: a ‘good morning!’ greeting in their own way. each receiving gentle pets to their fur.

your mental list of duties was shorter today: pet the cattle, inspect the lambs & brush their fur, throw feed for the chickens & clean their coupes, feed the dogs, feed the fish.

you couldn't help but wear your best little dress to do the tasks today, a simple white thing that cupped your breasts just right. “oh, how are ya’ buttercup!” you squealed in delight as the silky white wolf dog rushed up to lick your feet, his opposite onyx counterpart, bentley offered a short bark to show her delight, sitting peacefully and obediently. she'd recently fallen pregnant with pups, confusing as you'd given both animals the proper precautionary procedures! while filling their food bowls, you couldn't help but be reminded of eren and ony’. your toes dug into the grass a bit, excited at the idea of . . . sharing your home with someone else again. both men seemed pleasant, highly attractive, but feelings always confused you. perhaps they were only being decent human beings to you, nothing more.

to be honest, you hadn't had the best history with relationships. it's part of– it's one of the main reasons you'd decided to move out to the countryside. casual sex was fine, yeah, whatever, you enjoyed it. however, when it comes to your relationships, you refuse to believe you attract shitty people. from making fun of how excited your are by things, to the way you dressed, wore your makeup, your hair, how you cry— the whole works had been used against you. there was only so much of it you could handle. moving away meant . . . fresh start, new people, new experiences. and most importantly, a place where everyone did as they pleased. as much as people think gossip goes around in small villages, the country area was mostly pleasant. neighbours traded crops for items, enjoyed each other's company and minded their own business.

sitting beside the pond, bentley and buttercup eagerly cuddled up at your side; the joy this life brought you was comparable to hot chocolate at the end of a winter day. now you think about how long its been since you could cuddle someone on a cold day. it probably hasn't been since your mother was alive. now was a good time to visit eleonora.

♡

a raspberry lemon loaf warmed your hands as the weather began to cool. the trudge to eleonora's ranch was tranquil, pleasant animals, butterflies and chirping birds kept you occupied for most of it. that is, until your boots dragged to a stop in the dirt, noticing a familiar face in el's front yard. 

onyankopon's hair was short, brushed into smooth waves atop his head and faded on the sides, revealed by the lack of cowboy hat. he was shirtless, once again, knee deep in the dirt of his grandmother's yard where he dug the soil for new plants. you swallow, nibbling a plump lip that made your mouth spring from the strawberry flavoured gloss. a colder breeze blew up under your thighs, blowing your simple little dress slightly; furrowing your brows with concern as you peered at the beautiful bright sky, you force yourself to walk up to the gate and begin to unlatch it. 

eren's grassy green eyes meet you first, his hands busily feeding a plump cherry into his mouth. pretty pink lips sucked them in, unwelcoming to the juicy red droplets that escaped the cherry. he licks his lips to pull them in. you take a deep breath and focus on not dropping the raspberry lemon loaf. “h-hiya everybody!” you greet, noticing eleonora seated in her usual spot on the rocking chair of her porch while observing the two men. 

you hold the loaf somewhat close to you and swallow hard, walking along the stone path of which both men were at either side of. ony’ in the dirt and eren manspreading on the front steps. you held eyes with the ground. “howdy ony’, eren, nice to see you two ‘gain,” you say in a pleasant mumble as you make way up the stairs to eleonora. “brought you this raspberry lemon loaf els’!” you look at her smiling slightly, caught off guard by that signature smug look she held. what insane thoughts about your love life could she be brewing now? the silence from the two men was noticeable too, you were sure they'd turn to look at you as you presented the treat for el’, “my, my! well doesn't this just look lovely!” she claps clammy hands clad in flower themed rings and laughs jolly. “ony’, son, could you get us some tissues n’ forks? oh- n’ eren darlin’ why don't you bring out the pitcher ‘f lemonade with s'm glasses.” the two men stand as she calls upon them, uttering out their deep ‘yes ma'am's’ as they towered above you in walking by. your eyes trailed them slightly before turning back to eleonora who never (not once) misses your silent pining.

ony’ wore his jeans low on his waist, the band of his boxers showed off its maker's name. eren, on the other hand, wore a white wife-beater below unbuckled blue overalls, leaving them hanging over at his waist. “so, have ya’ found y'self a boyfren’, honey?” eleanora asks somewhat loudly as the two men shuffle around the kitchen bearby and your eye widen. “now what kinda’ question is that els’?” you sputtered, “you know I haven't got one.” eleonora giggles like a school girl. you take a cool seat onto the steps. eren and ony’ share small smiles as they return with lemonade and dishes. ony’ takes a seat in a chair opposite eleonora, elevated above you whilst eren makes himself comfortable back in his spot across from you on the steps. raspberry lemon loaf is shared around with the cool glasses of not-too-sweet lemonade to wash it down, eating brought silence besides low groans from the two men who seemed to enjoy your baking. their groans were not sensual, but pressing your thighs together was still a must as a reaction to the unexpected sounds of pleasure. fuck, you felt like a creep. eleonora complimented your skills, asking, “[  ] , did ya’ grow these in the box gardens y'made?” you nod and swallow quickly, all attention to you as eren mumbles ‘box garden?'. ``yea els’, the box gardens ar’ doin’ great, but I've got some extra wood around I think I'mma try to make a few more like the boxes I bought from the market!” eleonora smiles as if she were expecting to hear you randomly bring up your recycling duties. 

“ony’, can't you n’ eren build those boxes f’[  ]? I strongly believe lil’ ol’ her shouldn't handle all dat’ wood . . .” you internally blush deeply at the innuendo and take the final bite of your slice of the loaf. eren speaks up, “y'sure right on we can, els’ . . . y'okay wit’ us helpin’ y'out ma?” he takes a quick glance up at ony, locking eyes with him who also lets his stare above you burn into your scalp. “s– sure, I don't mind!” you mutter out lightly and eleonora gives a jolly clap, “well ain't that just darlin’! the day's young, y'all can get started right now!” you have to hold your breath to avoid your last sip of lemonade going down your larynx. the two men mentioned how they're not busy the rest of the day and wouldn't mind before you can even collect yourself. somehow, coming over to eleonora always results in you being roped into another scheme of hers.

and just like that, you found yourself on a quiet . . . and awkward walk back to your ranch with the two young men following closely behind you. anxiety bubbled in your stomach, clamping your lips shut to avoid letting the insecure feeling from escaping your lips. the nerves were getting to you with every second that passed by. “s-so, uh– wassup wit y'all ‘round here?” they both walk up to match your pace. “oh, well, ony here prefers to do all the technical shit like– fixin’ cars n’ all'at.” eren shoves his palms into the pockets of his overalls, walking up ahead where he could look back at the two of you while talking, he maintains glances with onyankopon that you just don't seem to understand. “I prefer to stay on the ranch n’ watch the animals– y'got any besides that horsie?” 

“oh– yea i've got m’ horse, mary-lou, two wolfies: bentley n’ buttercup.” a sweet smile stretches on your face, tummy warming a bit. “oh! and I've got names f'all my fish in the pond, my little lambs– oh they're just the cutest! a–and my fluffy cows! they're lovely,” you clasp your hands in excitement, eyes following your footsteps, sputtering happily over the animals. “gosh, n’ I'm tryin’ out a little butterfly area in my front garden, but m’ not the best at it, can’t tame butterflies y’know— they pee on ya’ too! that's fuckin’ crazy,” you reveal with a giggle. as you look up to ask the two a question, you can't help but blush, embarrassingly at that. eren and ony stared at you with pleasant smiles, deeply dimpled too. “oh my, m’ sorry for my ramblin’ how rude of me–”,”no. no, keep talkin’ pretty.” ony's deep voice encourages you and you peer curiously at him: trying to figure him out. he turns away from you licking his lips and spares eren a look before he starts walking again. it urges you both to continue onto the ranch as well, eren shakes his head with a chuckle; he thinks he’s got a handful on his hands. 

“y’got a boyfren’ ‘round here, [  ] ?” eren brushes hair over his shoulders, asking the question calmly whilst maintaining a look up the path, ony’s arm brushed yours as he walked close by. “well– no, what about you?” you melt your lips together before stuttering out,”wait, not– i mean, girlfriend . . . well– i don’t care–!” ony barks out a laugh while eren turns around to give you a bright smile, all three of you burst into giggles. “nah, no girlfren’ or boyfren’, ma’.” ony speaks up gently, “but, uh– me n’ E’ might be lookin’ for a third to make us official, i dunno.” your eyes widen but ony gives a nonchalant shrug, handsome face glowing with a smug smile like he didn't just drop #thebomb on you. it reminded you of his grandmother, you look to eren who’s looking back at you and onyankopon with just a slight grin and your breath catches in your throat. “oh! there’s the ranch just up ahead,” you blurt out and skip past eren, scurrying over to unlatch the gate to your front garden as the two followed you in.

now your heart felt like it could melt. like– like a huge strawberry ready to burst! what did ony’ mean by that?  oh, how you felt like a dizzy little dove. luckily the dogs rushed up to you, excitable and ready to meet the new visitors who they eagerly sniffed. ony’ and eren were happy to roughhouse on sight laughing with the dogs and complimenting the patch of primula's you were trying to grow, the pretty pinki-ish flowers were just beautiful. you lead them through your home, overly conscious about each step you took while they surely eyed every nook and cranny of your decor. “um- y'guys need anything? I've got some snacks . . .”, “nah, we're good,” eren mumbled, sounding obviously distracted by their nosey observations of your living space. you hear the tone of your dryer going off just as you unlatch the netted back door that served as another layer next to the already opened wooden one. 

“holy shit,” ony’ whispered, your organization of the backyard was impeccable. clean and solid fencing around the cows, plants on the left with storage on the other. you left the two to walk out into the cold breeze that passed by as they observe the surroundings and the pile of wood waiting for them; all while you quickly rushed to the laundry room nearby to dislodge your clothing and stuff them into a basket. you hurry back out to join them.

“so, here's one of the other boxes i made,” you gesture to the dirty box filled with planted Spanish thyme, “i know it looks kinda wonky but, hopefully you guys can do better,” you offer an awkward laugh and sit on the back steps, legs crossed. 

eren and onyankopon share a look, then grab some planks bringing them more into your line of view with some of the tools nearby and sitting in the grass. even in your own home, you felt a little out of place. in silence, eren and ony’ shared alot of chemistry you didn't understand. despite this, what ony’ said on the way here never left your mind. “y'guys got alot ‘f experience . . . relationship-wise?” you scratch behind your ear. they worked separately lining up wood and nailing them into place, muscles working diligently. “mm, yea. ‘guess y'can say that ma',” eren glances at ony who hums low and offers you a small smile.

“it's jus’ that– ‘m thinkin’ ‘bout watchu said earlier . . .” you blink, fumbling, “unless that was like a joke ‘r somethin’—”

“i wasn't joking.” onyankopon confirms calmly, his jaw tight. you allow the silence to continue for a few beats, eyes flickering back and forth between the two and your hands petting the dogs that came to lay beside you. “we don't expect ya’ to jus’ trust us like that, missy,” eren offers gently, shoving his curls into a small bun and you nibble your bottom lip. 

ony's brows furrow and he's hammering the last few nails into his box before he speaks up. “how c'n we get to know you ma’? me n’ E’ been . . . chillin’ for over a year. since college, actually, n’ we been watchin’ y'too. w’dont expect you to feel the way we do in 10 minutes or even in a day. let us get t'know you.” you squint a little.

“y'serious?” your chest feels a little hot and you're praying to the gods you don't fuck this up. “c's i don't intend on gettin played wit’ ‘specially not out here, y’hear me?” and you don't mean to raise your voice a little, the sounds just flow out. “hey, hey now,” eren pushes his finished work aside and stands, tugging his overalls up, hands resting on his hips. “we don't got no bad intentions, sugar, chill wit’ us,” and you blink up at him, unmoved.

“m'kay, let's just say i decided to ‘chill’ wit’ y'guys,” you stand up, fold your arms and start, “what exactly are we g'nna do, hm?” you look back and forth between them, not missing the way your buttercup whines on the steps where she lay, evidently fed up with all the chatter. “y'got 3 seconds n’ don't say sex. one,” 

“who said anythin’ ‘bout sex?” ony’ joins you two as he puts the tools down, “two,” “yea, y'better shut that shit up. let's bake sumn together, show us around y'day, hang wit’ us at our ranch, talk about shit. fuck y’mean sex?” you stubbornly stay silent and stare. eren’s jaw bone pokes out with the way he clenches it. “we're not lookin’ for sex. if we wanted sex from you we coulda seduced you a long time ago, sugar,” he shrugs with a smile and you lick your lips, sighing. “okay, ‘m sorry. I’–I'm such a bad host,” you mutter out, “y'all want anything to eat? or some water.” you hear a low ‘okay’ from ony’ so you shuffle away to the kitchen to grab some bottles for them.

you tried to focus on the coldness of the bottles on the way back as a way to cool your temperament. “i moved out here wit’ intention ‘f startin’ fresh n’ shit.” you start, tossing them bottles before plopping yourself beside buttercup who nuzzled her cold nose into your thigh. the two men were sitting once again, evidently having spoken to each other in your absence.

your voice was shaky as you took a deep breath, garnering the courage to speak up for how you felt, “i'm tired of gettin’ dogged out, n’ played wit’ n’ allat bullshit.” you pout.

“‘m not exactly sure how gettin’ involved wit’ two handsom’ fellas is gonna help me figure out to– to i dunno, regulate m’ emotions.” you frown and shove some braids back behind your ear, “s’ like i damn near avoided it– i moved back t’the country damnit.” a sigh, “i cant just figure out how to adore n’ love– people again or if i'mma be able t'dish it out as much as before.”

“you get what i mean?” your ramble ceased as you finally look up from your focus on your knees and look back and forth between ony and eren. ony chuckles softly while eren offers you a smile and speaks up.

“we'll take it slow, you'n gotta ‘love’ anybody yet, mama,” ony nods at his words, “gotta build a friendship wit'chu first, we not playin’ ‘round.” 

♡

a week or so passes in which life goes by as normal. you spend your days busying yourself with gardening and grooming your animals, baking treats and new concoctions. the only exception is eren and onyankopon have somehow easily squeezed themselves into your life.

on your deliveries you hear, “howdy, ma',” they chase across their lawn and hop across the fence to drag you inside and sit you down in the warm house where the two eagerly pester you to try the . . . ‘shrimp alfredo’ they whipped up. 

thus, the two would end up in your kitchen, breathing over your hair whilst you instructed them on the proper technique. “naw, i don’ told E to do all'at,” onyankopon protests. so too do they pester mary-lou and your dogs, roughhousing and giving them baths much to their dismay.

through many experiences you learn, onyankopon isn't particularly fond of being tickled, or of wearing shirts. he stays shirtless almost all twenty-four hours of the day and you can only avert your eyes. eren is obsessed with overalls and has an array of them: gray ones, distressed ones, short ones, and he never buckles them properly.. on the ranch, the two gorgeous white haired horses were named armin and reiner, two friends they shared from college. sparkling like diamonds as you're given the opportunity to ride them each around the boys’ ranch in the golden sun. you'd also learned that the two were sexually . . . fluid, they'd called it. vaguely, they'd mentioned their sex lives and based on what they said you couldn't help but assume they were talking about each other. who else was there out here except you?

“yeeehaw! can't catch up, can'ya’?” eren howls and shouts as he trots across the ranch on his horse, ony lagging behind in the chase. here you sat on a wooden little bench near the steps of ony' and eren's ranch; clad in a simple white cropped tank and blue jeans with a chunky belt, your cream coloured cowboy hat sit pretty atop your head. a pretty calico cat licked at your bare feet and nudged you for pets. 

at this point, you felt yourself slipping. it was obvious by now you'd grown to enjoy each other's company and serious conversations were imminent.

what were we, how will the dynamics work, what would they expect from you? just then you felt a tap to your forehead.

“heya, girlie,” eren squats down before you to grab your attention, “watchu, thinkin’ ‘bout,” ony’ mumbled, toying with a toothpick between his teeth. 

you smack glossy lips together, “jus’. . . ‘bout us three y'know? how- like, where do we go fr'm here huh?” your eyes flutter, cheeks warming. you feel the silence actually, eren and ony’ are doing that stupid thing where they talk to each other with their eyes. 

butterflies flap their wings about, joyous as ever. it makes you smile a little, as you're beginning to grow nervous. “let's talk inside ma’,” onyankopon suggests, stepping past you into the house where eren follows. 

“me n’ ‘ren c'n take care ‘f each other n’ you, know that?” 

you all shuffle onto the dark gray couch in the living space. ony’ and eren's ranch had a deep modern aesthetic. dark oak accents adorned both the outside and inside, complimented by gray and brown shades of furniture. 

“i know that . . . ,” you pout, 

“so wassup,” eren stares you down, the emerald swirl of his eyes warmed your belly yet you couldn't maintain eye contact with him for long, eren just had that kind of stare without realizing it himself.

“‘m g'nna be frank, ion wanna impose on nothin’ y'folks got . . . n’ my past relationships ain't been the best.” you huff and continue, “‘m jus’ puttin’ that out there. i feel like we've been talkin’ for a while n' I'm fond of y'all.” 

“i jus’ don't wanna be the one to mess things up,” you finish in a whisper. 

onyankopon hums low and eren plays with his lip ring, “n’ das’ all, girlie?” he asks and pursed his lips, dimple deepening at that. you give a nod and a small ‘yup’ while intertwining your hands onto your knees that were pressed together. “y’ talk to us, we talk to you, got that? if it's an issue y'got: don't hesitate to let us know,” ony’ iterates.

eren makes a noise of agreement, “y’communicate everythin’ wit us, sugar, we're serious,” and you nod slowly. “‘kay . . . i get that,” your eyes feel a little wet with emotion, ones you're not too sure of yourself.

you were happy to hear them affirming their commitment yet still anxious for the future. regardless, you couldn't help but lurch forward, you grab the back of eren's neck to press a sweet strawberry jelly flavoured kiss to his cheek, leaving a baby pink glossy print on his cheek along with a loud ‘mwah’ as you smiled. similarly, you crawl over his lap to do the same to ony’ who only bit back a grin, gold capped teeth glistening in the light much like the glossed smudge on his face.

♡

inevitably came the days you'd call the ‘honeymoon’ phase in a relationship, except it lasted what felt like forever.

these days you preferred to be cuddled up in your bedroom, legs being warmed by a black, gray and white blanket you were committed to crocheting. with a couple dark, gloomy days where the usual creamy clouds frowned down on you, the animals often retreated to their pens and little beds of hay to seek warmed from stormy weather. buttercup and bently invaded each others personal space in their dog beds down at the living room, you smile a little at the thought.

“yeen gotta be like that, ony’,” you hear eren groan in a mischievous pout as the two men exit your bathroom smelling of your bath soap. onyankopon mumbles something of ‘’s a stupid idea’. you giggle under your breath, hands hard at work weaving and looping the thick yarn for the blanket. 

“ [  ] , watchu’ think, sugar?” eren plops himself onto the bed, “hm?” still fixated on your progress, ony’ huffs from his seat on the ottoman, lotioning his chest and arms then turning back to rub some excess onto eren's foot. “i told ony’, let's take the horses f’ a ride, ma’, he talkin’ bout ‘oh it's rainy’, i think it'll be chill,” he smiles big and winks expecting something of an applause for his great idea of fun.

“ion mind whateva’ y'guys wanna do, jus’ once we shower ‘gain after, ‘fore we get sick,” you shake your head at the thought. ony’ smacks his teeth, “c'mon, don't support him.” 

“what, playin’ in the rain is fun, baby!” you chuckle, eren simply props his head on his palm, enthralled by your meticulous work. regardless, he nods mindlessly in agreement at the discussion.

just like that, cowboy hats and boots were thrown on and you head down to the stables to round up the horses. ony’ and eren raced each other down to them before you could even get a word in. the thought reminded you of buttercup and bently who currently settled and slept with one's head atop the other.

the fresh rain smell hits your nostrils quickly, smelling of the humidity off the grass and pitch of the street. you could audibly hear the wind bristling about the bushes as it cooled your skin. all you wore was a thin white tank top, jeans along with your classic pink-brown boots to match your hat. eren and ony’ warmed up the horses, encouraging mary-lou to shake out her mane and trot a little. onyankopon was seated by reiner, rubbing at his legs to warm him a bit and doing the same to armin. of course, you stare unabashedly, his muscles (unclothed) bulged with each motion, waistline visible amid his jeans.

you stare so much so, that you don't even notice eren come up to your side to press a wet kiss to your neck, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives your ear a kiss too, “starin’ at my man, girlie?” he laughs boyishly and you swat him, “dat’s m’ man too, freak,” he gasps falsely at the insult and you speed off to grab the harness for mary-lou; ony’ pretends he didn't hear the bickering and mounts his horse.

“s’ not rainin’ all too much now, see?” eren comments, scooping his hair back into a low bun under his hat. the three of you clicked and clocked through the damp grass and onto the street, letting the drizzle of rain moisten your skin with each speckle. you gnaw at your bottom lip, lost in thought as you trail behind the two men. at the same time, another cold gust would brush past you three, drying your skin again. yet, as you flinch when a particularly large droplet mands on your cheek, the rain picks up again and you smile.

sometimes moments like these felt so good, connecting with nature and taking in the beauty of the weather. it didn't stop you from being distracted, eren's white wife-beater was getting soaked. the tattoos creeping up his side peaked through the material and stared right back at you. you bitr back a groan and cover your warming face with your palms, wiping it clean of rain, while eren and onyankopon fall back on their horses. the peaceful silence with nothing but the ‘tock’ of the horses’  hooves kept your mind wandering. 

now drenched, you could only imagine peeling off these clothes, a strap of your flimsy little tank top blew off your shoulder, and you felt the material sticking to the bulge of your breasts nestled in your black bra that now stood out ten times as much. god, you felt like a fuckin’ pervert. you couldn't even bring yourself to look down at your own chest, feeling scandalized enough. something about thinking of yourself in . . . near erotic situations such as this made your clit thump like a sweet little rabbit's nose.

nonetheless, you ignore it and allow the rocking atop mary-lou as she walks to distract you. onyankopon rides his horse nearer to yours and eren does the same, you gasp under your breath when ony’ nudges you. “wassup,” he murmured, “nothin’ ‘m jus’ distracted.” you comment plainly and eren huffs out a laugh beside you. 

all you do is stare down at mary-lou and pet her mane, the pulse between your legs pushed to the back of your mind. “y'so bad at lyin’, know that?” eren laughs, you blush and groan, “no ‘m not, shut up,” 

“chill, chill,” ony’ whispers, in his stupid, sexy, amazing, deep voice and you let out a big shuddering breath. as you're riding you feel ony's wet bicep brushing against yours. this had to be the end of you.

ony’ reaches an arm behind you, stretching to meanly pinch eren's shoulder. you're not sure what that meant but you didn't care to know. “where we ridin’ to?” you ask, rubbing glossy lips together. “mm, let's jus’ head to me n’ ony's ranch,” 

“kay,” you settle with that, sweet n’ soft.

“wanna race, jaeger?” ony’ slips in lowly, pulling ahead and looking back at you two with his. . . stupid handsome smile, “h- hey now, let's not–” and you're interrupted by shouts, “let's go!” eren pulls off.

you groan softly, hiking up mary-lou’s harness a bit as you begin to gallop behind the two men. the raindrops stung against your skin and you whined trying to catch up to the two and your breaths harsh. with each hard breath you let out you couldn't help but let it bubble up into laughter, you just felt so good. 

you felt giddy, blinking away raindrops that attacked at your eyes and racing past the two men, who yelled and called out to you, “yo, ma’ we gon' catch up,” ony's cowboy hat flies back behind his head, held up by the string beneath his string as he pulls the white horse forward chasing after you.

the three of you speed past grunge fencings and rosey bushes all bowing their heads now from the deluge. your tank top was completely soaked, and you imagine so was eren's when you pulled in the gates of their ranch and headed around back where you could free mary-lou to run around in the fenced horse enclosure.

you sit on the ground and linger near the side of the house by some plants, boots kicking about scattered hay and picking up sticky mud. eren and ony’ pull in the same time, wet chests heaving and eyeing you as they quickly hop off and lead their horses to the enclosure. “you win, watchu want?” eren huffs out, swinging his hat off and tossing it to the side, letting the rain seep into his curls. “hm?” you moan while rain kisses you, “i get a prize?” 

he nods and slumping down against the wall next to you and propping his arm on a plant. you take the time to stare at his pecs . . . light brown nipples peaking through at you. eren catches you staring, it forces you to look away quick and brush a wet braid out of your face just as ony’ arrives.

“yall chillin’?” 

“yea . . . mama's chillin’ alright,” eren smiles up at ony who lays in the grass beside you. “she baskin’ in her– win,�� eren laments, reaching forward to tickle you and you bark out laughter lurching at him. his fingers pet your ribcage and you grab eren's shoulders, “what the– fuck! eren!” you squeal and wrangle with him. ony’ sits in the wet dirt beside you guys with his hands resting behind his head, basking in the rain and ignoring the shoves and pushes nudging him.

“i swear t’ god ‘ren, you– ack!” eren flips you on your back and you land hard with your head on ony's thigh while he wrangles your hands above your head. digging your feet in the ground for leverage couldn't help with the mud slipping beneath you. onyankopon only hums in amusement, watching you stop struggling beneath eren, your chests bouncing with gasps of air.

“you . . . y'know that's not fair, eren,” “i know what's not fair, sugar?” he stares you down, grip on your wrists tight with his chest pressing against yours. the swell of your breasts popped out of your tank top, glistening and sticky when it touched his skin. “mmm, you want somethin’?” he sucks his lip rings into his mouth teasing you, eyes wide and glossed over, throat drying. you lick your lips and slip from his grasp, sitting up and leaning your back onto ony's chest. just as you make that decision you swallow hard feeling his wet chest through your thin top. you wipe some wetness off your forehead evidently applying some mud that was on your arm to the spot.

you catch your breath, rubbing dirtied arms onto your shirt to clean them as best you could. you felt filthy but god, your fat little cunt ached laying in the dirt. 

“onyan'” you call out to the man behind you with your eyes trained on eren who simply sits back smiling impishly at you, “yea, sugar?” 

“wan’ m’ prize,” it comes out in a whine.

“yeah? ‘n what's that gon’ be,” he murmurs low in your ear, eren still hears him. you let out a ‘hmph!’ deep in your throat. then, you drag dirty hands against your tank top before peeling it off you and above your head, tossing it into some grass elsewhere.

crawling on your knees, ass arching in ony's direction, you gesture to eren with a finger, “come here, c'mon,” and you grab the back of his neck, kissing up his sweaty wet throat licking and sucking up anything your mouth touched. you press your lips to eren's, cold wet metal between you two when you let his tongue into your mouth, sucking it up when your lips lock hot.

eren groans into your mouth, hand gripping at your ass concealed by your jeans and he falls back into the mud. you reveled in the slick sound of your lips separating from each other, tuning out how soaked your jeans were getting in the rain. the ambient pelting sound on the rooftops only edged you on further, sitting in eren's lap.

“fuck, you're nasty,” eren mumbles against your lips when you pull away for a second, fingers toggling with the buttons on his jeans. he resists a big smile, elbows resting in the muddied dirt to hold himself up while you roughly tug his jeans down a bit. just enough room for you to reach his dick.

“see how she treatin’ me, ony'?” eren wipes rain off his nose, locking heavy-lidded eyes with onyankopon then down at you, “she roughin’ me up ‘cause she won,” he grumbles and you pull his cock out.

eren flinches when his dick is exposed to the rain, tan-brown tip oozing pre mixed with droplets. your knees dug into the mud beneath you, ass arching up. you stare shamelessly at eren's dick, letting the saliva build up about your tongue while you press a few kisses to the tip. his breath shudders above you, leaning his head back for the rain to fall on his face. “c'mon, pretty, do watchu want,” you grip him tight, feeling like your palm could memorize the girth and veins that popped out. then, tugging him up slightly, you slot your mouth in the gap between the bottom of his dick to his balls. sucking on the skin, you let you built up salivation drip down his balls, slurping the heavy sack onto your tongue.

you suck eren's balls into your mouth, swirling your tongue around mounds and his mouth drops open revealing his tongue ring. he grins, giving you a loud shameless groan, he was certainly showing off for ony’ who sit behind you watching. “suck it like dat, yea,” eren mumbles to you, licking the rainwater off his lips. he lets you have your way a bit more, focused on your features: the way the rain made your eyelashes clump together, the droplets sliding down your nose, to the spitty goop around your mouth all over his balls.

“c'mon, c'mon,” he pulls your mouth off him with a hand gripping the base of your hair, licking the splittle off your chin then kissing it into your mouth and swallowing your whines. “y' fuckin’ nasty, jaeger,” onyankopon mutters lowly behind you and eren bites back a smile. “filthy ass, take that shit off,” you up off your knees, flopping back on your ass where you fiddle with the buttons on your jeans. 

your cheeks burned, both eren and ony's eyes grilled into you and everywhere you touched got streaks of mud in it after having your hands dig into the sopping ground. on your arms, your boobs, eren's shirt. slowly, you shucked your jeans down, slipping them past your ankles along with your boots. your panties were stuck up your ass when you sit in some wet patches of dirty hay, tossing the jeans aside realizing you wore significantly less than the other two men with rain beating all over you.

eren and ony’ share a look then eren's the first to lurch forward gripping your legs with his muddied hands, pushing you back to lay in the dirt and kissing about the clear parts of your belly. he nips at the swell of your breasts in your bra, sucking and kissing wherever he saw fit. “er– eren,” he's prying your legs apart, pushing them ‘till your knees were besides your ears. “eren, stop–,” then he's plucking your panties out your ass and sliding them up your thighs, he stretches the thin little things beyond repair to sling them off your ankles. “what the fuck,” you whisper, eren's fucking unreachable n’ you're both staring at your fat puffy cunt. he takes a second to look to the side at ony’ before returning his attention to your pussy, sprinkles of water sliding down, yet the blubber of slick collected between your lips was noticeable.

the pretty thing was so fat your hardened clit could barely peak through. eren dips his tongue deep, digging at your hole then dragging his tongue through your folds illiciting a low gasp. the cold metal bar in his tongue nudged at your clit. he curled his tongue around the bundle of nerves, giving it a few flicks before spitting and licking another strop up your cunt. “feels– fuckin’ good, eren, oh,” you whimper, his gentle motions paired with the ambient beating of rain against your skin had you on a high. he shakes his head side in your cunt, arousal making sticky strings beside his cheeks as his nose nudges the fat of your pussy. “holy shit,” you press your head into the soft ground beneath you, eyelids fluttering shut when eren suckles softly on your clit. you hum and moan, licking your lips and feeling your head spin, “‘ren . . . oh my god,” he slurps noisily suctioning his mouth over your pussy, sucking hard over and over and over again relishing in the throb of your clit against his tongue.

“he knows, baby,” ony’ murmurs and your mouth drops open with a loud moan, his voice just did something for you. you felt the muscles in your legs twitch, itching to close them with each swipe of eren's tongue and swirling pleasure in your tummy. your hands dig into the dirt behind you, legs quivering.

“tastes fuckin’ good don't it?” he's mumbling and eren's groans into your pussy sends shockwaves against your clit, he nods vigorously. “ohh– shit,” you sit up on your elbows digging in the mud, hair soaked and heavy and your legs only spread wider; your eyes trained on eren's tongue making sloppy circles around the fat mound in your pussy.

eager, you slip your hands into eren's wet curls, stuffing his face into your cunt, “eren, eren– yea-ah!” his groans rumble in his throat and here came the fucking waterworks. your climax comes hard along with several slick kisses to your clit, beads of sweat and rain slipping down between a furrowed brow and a guttural moan ripping from your throat.

eren's mouth releases its latch onto you, your legs flopping into puddles of dirt beneath you. “prepped her f'you,” eren licks his lips and looks to onyankopon who sits there with a fat bulge beneath his jeans although unbuttoned.

“mm yeah?,” you both shuffle over to the wet patch of hay ony’ sat in, slightly less soaked albeit equally as muddy.

onyankopon gestures to eren with two fingers as he lifts himself up, brushing water from his face and allowing eren to take a seat against the wall. your eyes flicker between them, sitting with your butt resting on the heels of your feet feeling exposed. it doesn't help that eren reaches behind you to unhook your bra, your cheeks feel hot. nevertheless, you slip them off your arms.

onyankopon shucks down his jeans just below his ass,  “ [  ], come right here,” walking on your knees you shuffle forward to ony’ who puts a hand above the swell of your ass, pressing his bare chest to yours. ony's gaze is something serious, he bends his neck and clasps his lips to yours. it's slow, methodical and hot. onyankopon breathes deep and groans into your mouth. your body goes limp a little: drooping in his grasp and relaxing against his body as his tongue gently guided yours against his own. “mhm, okay . . . okay,” he presses a few kisses to your lips with a squeeze around your throat as he weans you off his mouth.

“turn ‘round,”

you whine, “w'nna look at'chu,” 

ony's unmoved, he swallows, “look at ‘ren, baby,” and he guides you as you turn in the slippery mud to arch your ass up to him, his palm glides down the small of your back deepening that arch while your head rests on your folded arms before you. the position makes it hard for you to focus properly on eren, you peep at him through your eyelashes.

your cunt is sticky, swollen lips bound together by the white film of your arousal after the orgasm eren gave you, and you feel ony's hands kneading your ass. he spreads them, watching your pussy lightly spread open with it. you hear his belt buckle jingle slightly as his hands continue to massage your back right along with the downpour. ony’ grips his cock in his hands, tugging the thick thing lightly a couple times. he catches eren staring as he pumps it harshly before pressing the fat tip against you. 

“fuuuck,” ony’ slaps his cockhead at your entrance letting it get coated by your arousal before slipping the first inch in slowly and already you're speechless. “holy– shit,” your cunt stretched to accommodate the girth and ony’ grips the curve of your back for leverage, letting out a guttural groan while slowly inching into you. 

he sits in it for a moment, allowing you just a moment to familiarize yourself with the fat pipe he just lay in you; then, he's pulling out slowly and pushing in again and you whine. “what the fuck,” you feel ony’ lean his weight over you, and you gasp as he starts smacking his hips to your ass.

paired with the wetness of the rain, his hips leave a stinging slap against you and you're faltering with your tits mushed against the mud. eren left your pussy sloppy, your cunt whipping up loads of cream slick around ony's cock and your mouth is just ajar. jaw tightening with shallow, whiny moans cascading past your lips, ‘ah's and ‘oh's are all the men hear. “mm, ony’,” you try to murmur, body giving way fully to the mud beneath and ony's grip on your tightens,”watchu’ want, hm',” he grumbles.

oh how he knows nothing of the way your clit throbs everytime his heavy balls slap against your cunt.

“wan'— wan’ it deeper, please,” and you gasp hard when ony’s hand comes up to your ass, digging his thumb into the curled rim of your butt before bringing a foot to the ground for leverage; his ankle beside your ear, you eagerly grab onto it. “got fuckin’ good manners, don't she?” he grunts out, and the other man nods. 

onyankopon gives you two warning strokes, pressing his cock to the hilt and curling his thumb inside your ass and you feel overwhelmed. then, you gasp in a loud sob  as ony’ starts drilling his cock deeper into you, his hips smack you hard and his weight presses you everytime he drives his cock in. “fuck, fuck–,” you're squealing, hands draw digs into the mud as you can't help but writhe against the mud. “feel good?” you all but whine in response, “feel fuckin' good?” “ye- yes!” you mewl out. ony’s muscles contract and you can see it in his leg, intent on keeping you from sliding away from him under the soaked muddy slop.

the noises are . . . obscene. pornographic bursts of air shooting out amidst the stirring up of your melting cunt and your cheeks burn with embarrassment along with fresh tears streaming but you're breathless. “so fuckin’ loud,” ony’ mumurs,  his lips curling into a smile when he hears the noises you make.

“m’– fuck, m’ sorry,” you weep and your walls squeeze ony’ tight. you feel a glob of slick collect at the tippy top of your cunt, the fat bulge of your clit and stickily drip down onto the ground with each rock of your bodies. “takin’ m'shit fuckin’ good, sugar,” onyankopon drawls low and you sob.

you hear him whistle above you and with  a quickness eren's pants come into view. he sits, legs spread with his groin in line with your face against the ground. he scoots forward enough so he can lift your head and replace the mud beneath your nose with the musk of his balls. “‘ren, ‘ren, ren,” you're chanting, itching for your orgasm approaching with each quick and sloppy drag of cock in you. “m” right here, girlie,” ony's pummeling you from behind and your drooly mouth now has eren's pretty tanned cock slapping against it. “holy– fuck, hng- shit,” you mutter out before you're latching your lips onto eren's tip, inviting him into your mouth. he controls it, gripping your braids and rocking your head onto his dick.

“c'mon, c'mon, takin’ that shit s'fuckin’ good,” eren praises when he starts to snap his hips into your mouth, matching ony's strokes. he strokes your soaked hair gently, juxtaposing the nasty aggression each rock of his hips brought. you gagged, muffled, globs of spit streaking down your chin as you relaxed your throat for eren's dick. in the same way, you're making a mess on ony's cock, coating his length in hot creamy release that trickled down your own cunt. “she's fuckin’ creamin' on it, E',” and you moan when eren laughs cruelly above you, “cream on y’fuckin’ cock, ma’,” he grunts.

each drag of cock against the ridges of your cunt, the slosh of your mouth had you moaning in a frenzy. “was’ ya’ problem, huh?” eren groans out, and onyankopon knows exactly what your problem is.

“mama's bout to fuckin’ nut, huh?” he can feel the extra squeeze around his cock and rolls his neck to let some rain coat his face and distract him from his own ache. they listen to how you squeal around eren's cock, hands grabbing at his jeans and ony’ pumps his thumb into your ass consistency. 

“mmm, fuck,” onyankopon hums, angling himself so the curve of his cock digs at you just right, and he smiles: satisfied when you start to squirm and fuss beneath him. eren pulls you off and you sob, coughing a little to clear your larynx. you whimper as eren all but ruts against your face. “keep her right fuckin’ there,” ony’ groans and you grasp onto eren's jeans, cunt twitching with each movement yet eren forces your shoulders back to keep your body where ony’ wants you: daggering his cock into you with a forcefull quickness that eren's rutting mimics. 

“ohmygod, oh!” you blubber out, chanting ‘shit, shit, shit's

“gon’ leave you fuckin’ gapin’, quit playin’,” and you weep.

your hips twitch and you feel the knot in your stomach stiffening, “wan’ you're cum, want y'all's c–cum, fuckkk,” wail into eren's skin and take his cock back into your mouth just as your cunt spurts and your ears feel clogged from the rush of blood to your abdomen. “take it, take it, take that cum, baby,” eren groans. you felt light-headed, stars twinkling at you around the edges of your vision as your eyes rolled and soon you were forced to blink away the brain fog to swallow the thick loads eren gushes into your mouth. 

he whines, unabashedly and onyankopon gives you a couple more strokes before his cock is digging into you to bury his surge of cum into you with a hiss.

eren falls back, letting you catch your breath and stroking rain away from your face. ony’ pulls out quick before you start to get sore, giving your cunt a few wet slaps before eren's pulling your limp aching body onto him to give you some relief. “gotchu’, gotchu’.” he consoles.

“c'mon, E,” ony’ rushes, “huh?”

“gotta’ get out the fuckin’ rain,” he puffs out a laugh before he's lifting you off eren. they both try not to slip in the mud, hurrying off into the ranch for long hot showers.

[lauramkaye]

Hot take on a 200-year-old book

At the start of Pride and Prejudice, Darcy liked Caroline Bingley, and Caroline isn't completely irrational to think that she might get him to propose eventually.

Oh, he WON'T, not with her connections in TRADE, but it isn't so very wrong of her to have hopes of him. He doesn't like meeting new people and he's used to her because she's his friend's sister, he's had her to stay at Pemberley at least once and is now staying with her family so he must not have hated it! Plus, she has fashionable manners and appearance, she's generally fairly savvy and clever, and they have a great time being bitchy to each other about people they don't like. She's funny in a mean way and SO IS HE - "She a beauty? I'd as soon call her mother a wit." For Darcy, Caroline makes a fairly amusing person to trade zingers with, roast vulgar people, and probably to use as a shield against other husband hunters that he knows less well. I suspect that Caroline's plan when they come to Netherfield is to just keep being in his orbit, showing off her society hostess and witty one-liner skills, and eventually he'll realize he has to get on with producing an heir and will decide that as far as eligible known quantities go, better Caroline than Anne De Bourgh. (Which, I mean, at least Caroline brings more pleasant in-laws and you could actually have a conversation with her.) It's not a terrible strategy for somone as antisocial as Darcy, honestly, though I think that pre-book Darcy is okay with being FRIENDS with the Bingleys but wouldn't be polluting the shades of Pemberley with them, so to speak - that's a bridge too far for his sense of what is due to his family.

(In fact when you think about it, the way that Elizabeth and Wickham enjoy dishing dirt about Darcy is kind of a mirror of the way Darcy and Caroline start out!)

I think part of why Caroline gets so very desperate and blatant is that Darcy stops playing along with their usual games as he starts to fall for Elizabeth. It's not so funny when it's about his crush, and instead of giving back another quip about how inferior these country bumpkins are, he not only shuts her down but does it in a way that is complimentary to another woman. I think the first time he does this is at Lucas Lodge with the infamous "fine eyes" comment. You can SEE Caroline getting more and more frantic to re-establish their prior rapport and Darcy just doubling down on taking every one of her attempts and turning it into a way to say something nice about Elizabeth, to the point where by the end of the Netherfield trip he is deliberately fucking with Caroline and I think is kind of enjoying it in a "hah hah, you can dish it out but you can't take it" sort of way.

If Caroline was a little smarter and more devious - a bit more like Wickham - she would have eased off and focused her comments not on Elizabeth but on her family, especially Mrs. Bennet and Lydia, who DO behave in a way counter to propriety and good manners and are genuinely embarrassing to their better-mannered sisters. That way, she could have reinforced his feelings against the match. Continuing to push him and doubling down every time he pushed back activated his Lady Catherine-Tuned Stubbornness Circuits (aka "I am the master of Pemberley and you don't get to tell me who I can or cannot marry").

Caroline and Elizabeth are both witty and fun to talk to, but Elizabeth is witty in a playful and sweet way that doesn't offend people (even when she might WANT to, see pretty much every conversation they have at Rosings). And most important, in the long run, Caroline encourages Mr. Darcy to indulge in his worst self (much like Fanny Dashwood does to John Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility) while Elizabeth challenges and inspires him to become his best self, and that's the most important difference between them.

[starstriix]

What kind of nicknames would roti remix Jo give to the others?

"Let's see... Here are the ones I've created for my team so far:

Brick:

Farmboy, Mudslinger, Grains-for-brains, Cowboy, Cattle-kisser, Haystack, Darlin' (mocking), Puss 'n Boots, Weed-wacker, Corn Shuckin' Country Boy, Country Bumpkin, Cowpoke, Bucko/Buckaroo, Pardner, [Additional long list of curse words that were too vulgar to be shown.]

Lightning:

Sparkplug, Nuts 'n' Bolts, Flashy, Lightbulb, Gearhead, Motor-mouth, Crankenstein, Light-headed, Brain-fried, Boom-boom boy

Cameron:

Blabbermouth, Walkie-talkie, Chatterbox, Elementary School Drop-out, Lie machine, Shortie, Sir-Yaps-A-Lot, Paperweight

B:

Big guy, Silent treatment, MVP (Mainly just uses his name.)

Zoey:

Game Girl, Red, Strawberry short-stuff, Eyesore, Blabbermouth #2, Sweaty, ANNOYING, Mouth-breather, Stop Sign, Fidget-fingers, Raggedy Anne, WHY ARE YOU SO OBNOXIOUSLY RED, Lazy

Vito:

Big-shot, Muscle man, Drama king, Loverboy, Tough guy, Toothy, Showboat, Mr. Macho, Superstar, Hollywood Hot-shot, Egomaniac, Sir-Flex-A-Lot, Prima Donna...

...I'm still working on them, of course."

[cawthorntales]

Closing September first. If not all slots full will cancel.

~

Assistant: Um don't the bachelors and bachelorettes usually meet us and film a tape for contestants?

Producer: They do.

Assistant: So then why is this a photo?

Producer: Because Mr. Bloom here doesn't know about this yet. His twin brother is surprising him.

Assistant: Is that a good idea? I mean people will want to know about the guy.

Producer: I think it'll be great for ratings. Plus his twin sent in the info. His name is Daisy Bloom. Gardening has always been his passion. Ever since he was a kid he could be found outdoors gardening, playing in the mud, hiking, fishing you name it.

Daisy leaves on a farm with several farm animals and his crops in Henford. Fitness is also important to Daisy and when he's not tending to his farm animals or crops he can be found in the gym. He's been on a few dates, but he has yet to find a guy he connects with. Maybe you could be the lucky fellow to win his heart?

Assistant: So he's a country bumpkin hick who gets dirty? You really think audiences will like that?

Producer: Debra you do realize farmers are super important right? They literally keep the rest of us fed. They deserve chances at love just like everyone else. Plus who doesn't love a good looking rugged fella?

Assistant: I guess you're right.

Producer: I often am.

~

Info

You're guy must have the loves the outdoors trait as the g1 heir has to marry a sim with that. Other than that. No trait rules.

I will also do two themed photoshoot challenges for people who entered. These will be mandatory, but doing them will give your contestant a plus 5 in romance and friendship for the first one and a plus 5 in friendship for the second one.

You can send in a spare from your game. Or a failed bc contestant. Or you can make a guy from scratch.

He must have green hair.

Must have a bio and photo.

I have werewolves, cats and dogs, cottage living and romance garden or whatever it is called.

cc is fine

This will not start until Grayson's bc is over. And Grayson and his stuff will always be my priority. This bc will update twice a week. And the legacy once a week.

~

Slots

@akitasimblr

2) @invisiblequeen

3) @changingplumbob

4) @simstagramsomeone 

5)

6)

You can read Sims In Bloom Legacy challenge rules HERE That is what this is.

[palaceofpassion]

The life of a House Husband

"Uhm... are you sure that I'm needed for this sir?" Jaune Arc was many things, he was a young awkward man, he was also the only boy in a household of eight women. Something that had a rather grand affect on his life, from cooking to cleaning, he could do every household task with ease. Something that had come akin to his mother wanting everyone to chip in.

And of course, being under the thumbs of his sisters. Whether it was through brute force, or being unable to say no. So... when he received a call from Headmaster Ozpin, of Beacon Academy, that he had a job for him, he was a little shocked.

"Yes, Glynda has informed me that you're quite skilled at helping others."

His cheeks felt flushed as he stared at the elderly man. "I mean, my semblance is good at helping bring out positive emotions but... I wouldn't really say I'm good at helping others." That was a lie, and he sort of wondered what his Auntie Glynda had told him. Glynda being his late father's sister of course.

"Mmhmm, she has spoken quite highly of you."

Now he was just embarrassed, "Oh. Well, that's honors." She was very brutal about the truth, even to family. "But I don't see why that means anything here."

"Well you see." Ozpin put a photo on his desk, ushering Jaune to pick it up. To which he did of course, the image had four young women. Ordered from tallest to shortest. Though he did note that three of them were quite short when compared to the tall redhead, who appeared to rival even him in height. "These four young women are some of our, if not the most promising huntresses this year... except."

"Except what sir?" He was a little confused, a bit embarrassed, if they were important and famous, he should know them... but he was kind of just a country bumpkin.

"Except that they would be unable to take care of themselves if left to their own devices. " Ozpin seemed frustrated by the statement, grabbing a cup of coffee to take a deep sip before continuing, "You see Mr. Arc. These four are the hope of Beacon, and while I would love for them to succeed, they have... problems. Ms. Cruz." He pointed at one of the shorter girls... actually THE shortest. With soft green hair, and dazzling emerald eyes. "She has unfortunately had... issues with the loss of her past team, so it's hard for her to open up to others, and she lacks self confidence in herself. And while the most calculating mind on her team, and their leader... it's doubtful whether she'll be able to communicate with the other three." He next pointed at the next shortest girl, with snow white hair, and frosty blue eyes, "Ms. Schnee is... strong willed, to say the least. She's grown in an environment that was about being used or to use others. As such, she'll be abrasive to the others, she also has very little experience with chores or taking care of herself, or so her mother has informed me."

Next was the maroon haired woman, with a stoutly figure, and pretty grey eyes, "This is May Zedong. She's similar to Ms. Cruz, but whereas Ms. Cruz has fears of being around others. May chooses not to involve herself, she's also had a hard time. Apparently she's had issues with both male and female students in the past. And likes to keep to herself. She's also quite soft spoken."

"And finally, this." He pointed out the dazzling red haired woman, with shining green eyes. "Is Pyrrha Nikos, she is, the strongest member of their team. However, she lacks the will to lead. She would rather not ruffle any feathers, and takes on an overtly polite persona when around other people. She's also quite famous, so it's not strange for people to come to her with ulterior motives. She's not quick to let people in, especially when she feels they'll be coming for her name. Unfortunately Ms. Schnee has already seemed to get on her bad side, and whether they'll work together at this point is impossible to tell."

There was obvious frustration in his voice, "Unfortunately, while each are all incredibly skilled huntresses, they haven't put much time, nor want, into self care. And that's where you come in." "So... you want me to be a nanny?" "Something to that effect, though you'll also be providing them with a shoulder to stand on." He wanted to say something, but as the most normal sibling, amongst a cavalcade of spectacular and amazing sisters. He sort of knew his position, and knew where people with talent tended to lie. Their single minded pursuit on improvement and being the bet. Especially if they have mental or emotional hang ups... he hated to admit it. But his semblance would definitely help. But more than that, as he listened to their stories, he wanted to help. "Okay." He would do what he could to help ease their lives, and besides... while he never wanted to be a huntsman. It would be interesting to see what kind of lives they lived.

While eyeing the image, he started to try to work things out. He didn't know their backstories, but one was afraid that she would see others die, or that she would be the cause. One is afraid of letting others in, because she's lived in a harsh environment, one is unable to communicate her feelings with others, used to being ignored... or something happened between her and a past team. And one has learned to close her heart, an actress if you will... He took a deep breath and sighed, "Okay, I suppose I should go meet them." "Mmhmm, they've already been informed of your... inclusion." He nodded, hopefully things wouldn't be too bad. But as he held the photo, he couldn't help but worry.

[robthegoodfellow]

I'm Glad My Dad Died

mungrove | slightly expanded version of fic written for @strangerthingscharityzine | ao3

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Billy had a secret: he was glad his dad was dead. So glad that even when his mom sold their house in Ocean Beach and moved them to Hawkins, Indiana, uprooting him from his friends and the sea and everything Billy loved, he still wouldn’t go back to the way things were. Given the options—California, dad alive; or Indiana, dad dead—he’d pick the second every time.

He would, even though Hawkins was its own hell. Learned the hard way that among prepubescent country bumpkins, embroidered roses on your shirt and hair like Shirley Temple bought you a one-way ticket to Loserville.

It was the fall of 1979. Disco was dying and former flower children were gearing up to vote for Reagan. Kumbaya over, time to make America great again.

So, yeah—sixth grade sucked, but stuff at home was world’s better. They were living with Aunt Doris—because San Diego was too expensive, his mom said, and wouldn’t it be nice to get a fresh start?

Mom was really into the whole fresh start thing—which Billy suspected was fueled by guilt and determination to be the kind of mother she hadn’t been before. And… he appreciated that. He did.

But—he wished she would stop? Put down the pen, step away from the extracurricular sign-up sheets.

Because if the outfit put a target on his back, swim team aimed the bow, and band fired the arrow. 

You’ll miss the water, honey. And you love music! 

She wasn’t wrong. He did love those things—but not enough to willingly wear a Speedo in public or blunder through some Beethoven on the flute. Also in public.

Oh—why the flute? Because she’d fed him a steady diet of hippie tunes from the cradle and knew how much he dug Jethro Tull. Perfectly reasonable explanation—his peers would definitely understand.

Here lies Billy Hargrove, innocent victim of social homicide. 

The bullying was relentless, but Billy figured he could take it. No middle school bully could come close to the one he’d lived with all his life. 

You know, the one he was glad was dead.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Billy hadn’t wanted to attend the talent show, but Mom insisted it was important to support his friends. By which she meant her friends—women she’d been palling around with who had kids in said show.

Kids she’d been aggressively arranging playdates with like Billy was five. 

Patrick’s talent was making twenty free-throw shots in a row. Robin’s was singing “This Land is Your Land” in four different languages. His mom and Mrs. Buckley had laughed about keeping the less than patriotic lyrics, assuming the Spanish rendition would fly over people’s heads.

Billy felt bad even thinking it, but he did wonder if his mom pushing these particular friends at him was part of her fresh start campaign.

Pat was black. Robin was a girl. And his dad had a habit of muttering snide remarks about anyone who wasn’t a WASP packing a sizable stinger—who wasn’t a clone of Neil Hargrove, basically.

And look, Pat and Robin were—fine. But he knew and they knew that they were only hanging out because their moms wanted them to, which was awkward as hell. Made his palms sweat whenever they were together or whenever they said hi at school despite him being a fairy freak according to kids whose opinions mattered. 

They were nice, but it felt like pity. Embarrassing in a way that made him shrivel up inside.

So he wasn’t in the best mood, slumped in the auditorium between his mother and Doris, praying no one pelted him with shit from behind. Mom felt crappy enough about all those years with Neil—Billy didn’t need her kicking herself for scooping him out of the fire and into a frying pan.

Pat set a record—28 in a row—and Billy clapped. Robin sang her song wearing a daisy crown, and Billy clapped. Dully, he watched as stagehands set up the next act, hauling out a drum kit.

Gareth, this shrimpy sixth grader, sat at the drums. Then an eighth grader came out, followed by a couple kids in seventh, the former bearing an electric guitar, one of the latter a bass. The guitarist waved, leaned into the mic—skinny guy with a buzzcut, eyes big and dark as an alien. 

We are Corroded Coffin—paused as a contingent of the audience went nuts—and this song is called Paranoid.

In the next row, a kid whispered, excited: Think they’ll make Coleman pull the plug again?

Gareth banged his drumsticks, counting them off. 

The opening riffs were like nothing Billy had heard before—this grind of chords that rattled teeth, thrummed in the chest. He straightened, compelled forward, a fishing line hooked deep.

Buzzcut was bent over the strings so low that all you could see was the top of his head, a fuzzy cue ball. Then Gareth kicked in, and the front man wailed the first verse, this nasal staccato, sort of speak-singing.

Billy scrambled to decipher the rapidfire—caught bits of the first verses. Then the bridge begged for help, and the rest landed loud and clear.

I need someone to show me The things in life that I can't find I can't see the things that make       true happiness I must be blind

The words were meant for him—just for Billy. It’s me. The guitarist leapt, plunged into a driving solo. The song’s about me.

Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal

Helpless, Billy turned to his mom, who grinned, whispering they’re great, aren’t they? He could only nod, swinging back to the guitarist, riveted until the final blaring note.

For Christmas, Billy unwrapped the smallest package under the tree—a cassette. It was all he’d asked for: Black Sabbath’s greatest hits album.

Because that night of the talent show, he sold his soul for rock n’ roll.

More specifically, for heavy metal.

More secretly, for the boy with the big brown eyes.

Eddie, he’d found out at school the next day, gossip overheard at lunch. The boy was Eddie.

Eddie Munson.

And whenever Billy caught a glimpse of him, the rest of that year, he thrummed like an electric guitar.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Unfortunately, his passion for headbanging and powerchords did not meaningfully improve the remainder of middle school, and by the time he walked the stage at eighth grade graduation, Billy resolved to make a change—give himself a fresh start on his terms.

First, he mowed endless lawns and bought a new wardrobe: bootcut jeans with matching boots, which lent him some height and a certain swagger; button downs in dark colors worn open to his sternum and white tees like the crew from Outsiders; a bitchin’ leather jacket.

His hair had progressed from Shirley Temple to Farrah Fawcett, so he trotted to the barber for a Bon Jovi bi-level. Almost chickened out at the mall when he got his ear pierced, but loved the way the earring swung from his left lobe… though the right would’ve been more accurate. 

He quit band and swim. Thought maybe he’d try basketball instead, and enlisted Pat to help him practice.

They were actual buddies by then.

Lastly, he took up smoking. Marlboro Reds, because they were badass. Soldiered through the pack all summer, suppressing a gag on every pull till he was puffing like a chimney.

August before ninth grade, Pat’s brother let them tag along to a party at the quarry; if Billy got in good with upperclassmen, it could pave the way to social acceptance—maybe even… popularity?

Total pipe dream, but then… it worked.

That night was one for the record books: first time smoking dope, shot-gunning a beer… first time a girl went down on him.

First time he’d seen Eddie in two years. Wouldn’t even have recognized him, except the eyes hadn’t changed. Eddie was a junior and looked it: taller, wild dark hair to his shoulders, tattoos peeking from his sleeves. He made a brief appearance and vanished—there to sell some supply, not socialize.

Billy wished he’d stayed. Admitted then what he was most excited about for high school: the chance to see Eddie Munson again.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Ironically, the object of Billy’s obsession had suffered a fall from grace in the transition to the big leagues: swirling rumors swore he was a Satan-worshiping anarchist and a burnout to boot. A weirdo who played geeky games with his loser friends.

Except—unlike Billy, Eddie didn’t give a fuck. While Billy strutted around vaguely unsettled, ill at ease with his costume, this immersive performance for the foreseeable future, Eddie had unveiled his freak flag—reveled in it, let it fly.

Regret gnawed at him, grew in Billy’s gut—knew if he were a little braver, he could trash this cool kid stuff and… 

End of Eddie’s senior year, Billy was sick at heart. Knew he’d missed his shot.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

So imagine his confusion, surprise—his hidden euphoric delight—when Billy spotted that dark mop atop a wiry frame loping across the parking lot on the first day of eleventh grade.

Eddie should have graduated, but for whatever reason… hadn’t.

Thus, a new resolution: seize this chance. Be Eddie’s friend.

By second semester, Billy had worked his way up to casual chit chat and also, incidentally, was a raging pothead—so much so that his mother was worried, and she had spent the 60s stoned out of her gourd.

Let him experiment, Doris advised, winking at Billy over dinner. His grades are fine. What’s the harm?

The following evening, Doris showed him her special cookies stashed in the freezer, cautioning him to only ever take one bite and be patient. Billy asked if he could give one to his friend.

Top tier moment, right up there with Dad dying. Eddie’s eyes lit up all starry, demanded Billy come hang so they could make like Keebler—try the old elfin magic—and Billy was blessed to learn that Loaded Eddie = Handsy Eddie.

Blessed and cursed, because Eddie learned that Blazed Billy = Honest Billy. Tell me a secret, Eddie said, tickling. Tell me a secret.

Nothing happened. Eddie was just… affectionate. Bit of a snuggler. Who now knew he was the reason Billy was such a metalhead. 

And that Billy was glad—about his dad.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Eddie was held back again, and suddenly math and history were Billy’s favorite classes because Eddie sat next to him in the back row. Seemed to do decently with Billy there egging him on.

Thus, his final resolution: graduate with Eddie. Drag him across the finish line if necessary. Billy held study sessions he didn’t need at the library after school, invited Eddie to join—and Eddie did.

Eddie invited Billy to come see his band play at a local bar on Tuesdays—and Billy did.

Tell me a secret, Eddie said one weekend, when they were sharing a bowl, and Billy snorted, gazed into bloodshot eyes. Glad you got held back. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be doing this. Eddie smirked, soft. Getting high? Billy laughed. Hanging out.

Billy turned eighteen that March, and the Buckleys and McKinneys came over to celebrate, as usual. Unusual was the doorbell as they were about to eat, Eddie and Wayne trooping in, sorry for being late.

Robin picked up on something that night—cornered him in the bathroom. Are you and Eddie…? Billy went tight, and she rushed to reassure. It’s okay if you are. I am, too. So Billy breathed, calmed. I am. I dunno if he is. Robin arched her brow. From where I’m sitting, odds are good.

Billy spent weeks yanking hope by the roots.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

Come May, they walked in green cap and gown—hugged in the milling crowd, Eddie cackling wet in his ear, a clinging koala. Didn’t think I could do it.

Billy brought him along to Robin’s graduation party. In the backyard, her old childhood treehouse beckoned, and they heeded the call.

Tell me a secret, Eddie said, sitting back against mossy boards. They weren’t even high. He flicked Billy’s earring—set his heart swinging. That should be on the other side, Billy said, and stared until Eddie flushed red, understood. I got a secret, he said, and Billy didn’t dare to know but did. 

Eddie said it: I’ve wanted to kiss you all year.

A click as Billy swallowed, bone dry. Then do it.

And Eddie did.

.🌱.💀.🌱.

[maxispremades]

One day of Vidcund Curious's life

poses by @katverse (just life), @simsxen (only a memory), @simmireen (uneasy)

Early Sunday morning, Vidcund Curious woke up with thoughts of Circe, a never-to-be-forgotten love. Inspired by his dreams, the man rushed to the chemical analyzer. His work goes well, and he decides that today might be his lucky day. After informing his brothers that he needs one more shot of a bizarre plant, Vidcund heads to Strangerville, hoping to find his beloved. He hopes that today will bring him luck and he will meet Circe accidentally. 

"How's Mrs. Beaker?" Vidcund asked Nervous Subject, trying to sound carefree. Nervous lowered his voice and said, "Buzz Grunt has eyes and ears everywhere here. I don't want the military to know about my masters' classified research." 

Nervous's paranoia has a real basis. Speak of the devil — Buzz Grunt is here. Since elementary school, Vidcund has hated this rude bumpkin. Buzz is unhappy with everything — aliens, plants, scientists, and the vaccine… Listening to the general's angry speech, Vidcund suppresses a rush of nasty school memories and regrets his visit to Strangerville once again.

русский текст под катом

Ранним воскресным утром Викунд Всезнайко просыпается с мыслями о незабвенной Цирцее. Окрыленный мечтой, парень опрометью бросается к химическому анализатору. Работа спорится, и Викунд решает, что сегодняшний день должен принести ему удачу. Сообщив братьям о том, что ему позарез нужна очередная фотография странного растения, Викунд отправляется в благословенный Стрейнджервиль. Вдруг сегодня ему повезет и он случайно встретит любимую?

«Как поживает госпожа Колби?» — спрашивает Викунд у Типуса Нервуса, изо всех сил стараясь придать своему голосу беззаботное звучание. «Здесь повсюду глаза и уши Базза Гранта, — понизив голос, говорит Типус. — Не думаю, что военным нужно знать о секретных разработках моих хозяев».

Паранойя Типуса имеет под собой реальные основания — генерал Грант легок на помине. Со времен школы Викунд на дух не переносит этого грубого мужлана. Базз недоволен решительно всем — пришельцами, растениями, учеными, вакциной... Слушая гневный спич генерала, Викунд подавляет наплыв отвратительных школьных воспоминаний и в очередной раз жалеет о своем визите в Стрейнджервиль.

[iiratix]

Fright

Where the Prefect give the entire group a test of courage, or in their case, worry

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

Honorable tag : @catgirlwannabe @dawnhero @mrs-schoenheit @shizunxie @akai-joou @a-random-bored-person @quirkyhero @kitty-chan33

Peace, silence, and solitude Everything is perfect — absolutely heavenly, if Leona must admit. The peace and quiet are exceptional, to the point where he wishes he could sleep forever in the garden. He is sleeping like a cat and ignoring every sense of responsibility. And pretend to be ignorant in front of the tired herbivore who was forced to accompany him.

Y/n sigh in contentment, leaning against the tree behind their back. There is nothing more exhausting than completing Crowley's task. Sooner or later, he'll be the death of them, and they're quite certain of it. It had been a long time since they had lifted something so heavy, so they reached out to roll their shoulders. 

They peek at the sleeping lion, watching the tail swing so gently. Y/N might have taken it as a sign that he was about to enter a dreamless land. How can they tell? That's the thing; they don't.

CRACK—

Leona's eyes parted open in surprise, his tail stopped moving around, and his ears twitched at the noise of bones. He can identify exactly what it was, thanks to the fact he led the sports club. Thus, the way it sounds clearly means someone just broke their bones. And the only individual that stuck close to him was the herbivore. 

It tends to be quite satisfying to do the same thing over and over again. But they're clearly unaware of the sharp glare that has suddenly headed their way. Thus, the moment they face the sleeping lion, all they're met with is an agitated cat, scowling a bit. 

Y/n curled an eyebrow, looking at Leona, who seemed annoyed by whatever it was. It wasn't anything like him to be annoyed out of nowhere — well, perhaps yes. But during his nap time, when no one has the heart or even the guts to ruin it? That's certainly unusual in his case. 

"Oi, herbivore." The gruff voice called out to them in an unfriendly manner. They thought they might be in trouble for the umpteenth time all over again. Even so, they didn't understand what they did today. More precisely, they barely did anything, and this cat looks like he's ready to pounce on them. 

"You're weak already."

Leona wouldn't show his concern, since it's masked by annoyance rather than worry. However, he wasn't a heartless bastard to just ignore them. Especially with the possibility that they did something more extreme. And he knows they're not as adaptable as any of those beastmen.  

"I… Are you insulting me?"

They didn't take what he said too kindly, and Y/n felt quite offended by his comments. They know their capabilities and even their limits. Even though they are far weaker than Leona, they know when to stop and rest once or twice. They may or may not have overworked themselves, but their physical strength is average. 

Leona scoffed when he heard them. He didn't insult them; he only spit out what seemed to be the truth. It's better to do that than have them try anything more stupid than necessary. He closed his eyes once again, trying to solve everything with a good sleep. 

"Whatever, don't disturb me. And just go bother Ruggie."

It was safe to say that under a certain lion's order, Ruggie has more work piling up in his hands. Which is assisting Y/n for the entire month and ensuring they don't do anything similar again. Isn't he quite a considerable senior? 

Under certain circumstances and orders, Ruggie found himself pursuing the Prefect. He doesn't seem to mind; unlike the lion, they're much easier to handle. It was as if he were granted a vacation to escape the lazy bumpkin who barely did anything other than sleep and skip classes. Instead of that troublesome adult, he would have chosen to babysit a magicless student.

"Shishishi~ What do you have there, Prefect?"

"These are donuts; I've bought them specifically for you. Thank you for your help these past few days, Ruggie-senpai."

They raised their heads up, holding a paper bag in their hands. Y/n smiles rather fondly, making Ruggie's tail wag at the smell coming from the paper bag. He doesn't need to be told what it was about the sweet smell that caught his attention. This is one of the specific reasons why he personally loved to attend to their needs more than Leona. 

Y/n watched how their seniors managed to get excited over something like this. They had watched how their tails wagged and happily munched on the sweet treats. They elicit a small sigh. Even if he had helped them around campus, Crowley became merciless with the passing days. They stretch their backs, groaning a bit, trying to find that one spot. 

CRACK—

Ruggie's ears flop down, and his pupils widen in surprise. He whipped his attention to Y/n, who seemed pleased by what they'd done. He was struck with terror, especially when that excitement has long since faded. He was speechless; he almost dropped the food in his hold if it hadn't been for the fact that he despises wasting food. 

The pitiful Hyena didn't even know what to say. He was stunned, his mouth still stuffed with the donuts they'd given him. He really tried to come up with something to say, but there's nothing, not even a word. He was stupefied in his place. 

"Hm? Ruggie-senpai?"

Y/n looked over in his direction, watching the dumbfounded countenance on his face. The ends of their lips curled into an awkward smile, trying to understand the hidden meaning behind that expression. It reminds them of that random dog video they found, where the dog froze in place after what their owner did.

So, what exactly did they do?

Ruggie won’t even move away from his position. He remained there silent, contemplating his life, and wondered whether this was the reason Leona had dumped more work on him. Because if it is, he now understands why that lazy lion decided to send him off to watch over the worrisome Prefect. At the same time, he would jump to the conclusion that  At the same time, he would jump to the conclusion that they lacked nutrition.

“Mfhm…” The hyena munches on her donuts carefully, his ears remaining in the same position. It somehow looks quite tempting to be touched, and not only that, but those eyes that look at them still with bewilderment were more than enough to make them tilt their heads in confusion.

“Prefect…”

As his voice calls out to them, Y/n awaits what he needs to say. The way he looked at them in pity, in particular, caused them to break out in a cold sweat over what he said next. “You don’t need to go on a diet. Your bones are malnourished to the point of breaking."

“Ruggie-senpai… What…?”

During the time Ruggie babysits Y/n, one does not need to worry about their meal schedule. After all, this kind and worried senior make sure they have a proper meal schedule to prevent the same incident from happening again. In short, they've turned on brother mode completely.

Now, it wasn’t such a rare occurrence for the Prefect and Jack to go for a nice run on a weekend morning. Despite their laziness and the temptation to fall asleep on Saturday morning, the wolf beastman did not allow that and dragged them to join him in the morning run. Something that has been an everyday schedule for them during the weekend.

Jack stopped on his track, his body turning sideways to watch the prefect who had lagged behind. He sighs, shaking his head back and forth, watching them pant heavily from that "light" jogging. Of course, he was never observant enough to consider that the durability between a beastman and a normal human was on a whole other level.

Even Y/N raised their heads, pants erupting from their parted lips, sweat drizzling down their brows, and falling to the ground. This was torturous; they could've squandered their weekend huddling and snuggling on a blanket, only to have it ruined by none other than Jack Howl.

They envied Grim, who was still fast asleep, even going as far as creating a small fort of his own. Oh, the life they wish to pursue, but their fellow first-years won’t allow them to rot in laziness. Jack even accuses Leona of being an influence on them, which is partially correct but not entirely correct.

“Pick up the pace, N/n.” Opening his bottle cap and drinking it all at once, Jack tried to encourage Y/n at the moment. In the meantime, our dear prefect scoffed, straightening and stretching their back, pushing it forward while their hands pulled back.

CRACK—

Jack spit on his drink in surprise; his ears twitched uncontrollably the moment he figured out the source of that sound. He diverted his attention to the lone prefect, satisfied with what they had done. They even smile happily; a joyful aura practically radiates out of them, but he was not amused in the slightest.

Let's face it: this boy is worried, but he refuses to admit it. One of the worst cases in which the patient was unable to admit his concern, but everyone could tell by the way his shoulders slumped all over. That said, he won’t express his worry, so his tail would do all of the work for him.

“Are… Are you okay?”

“Hm? Well, just a bit tired, but regardless, I’m alright.”

They turned to face Jack, who looked distressed and troubled, scratching the back of his neck. It was a habit that he managed to pick up whenever he felt nervous, embarrassed, etc. And they either understand that habit the most, or they’re that observant to note down every single habit their friend has.

“Are you sure?” Y/n look at his face, especially his eyes, which avoid eye contact and prompt him to look down at the ground. What’s up with him? They cannot tell for sure about his current actions.

He wasn’t convinced at all, and he stopped the conversation or inquiry there. Jack honestly tried to drop the topic and ignore his curiosity that gnawed at the back of his mind. But what can he do? He can be a worry wart who tries to figure out why the weakest person among them all did such a thing.

“Fiuh~! That was a tiring exercise! I’m hungry now.”

Jack's eyes noticed how they were stretching to cool their bodies, but there was no sound of a bone breaking this time. That was enough to alarm him inside his mind, assuming that Y/n must’ve gotten hurt eventually, breaking some bone that they never noticed.

No wonder they’re much more tired than usual; they even take multiple stops at once. And the misunderstanding kept on going, as Jack was unaware that this entire week Y/n has been running around the campus alongside Ruggie to finish up Crowley and Leona's ( in Ruggie's case ) task together.

“Man, I could go for some meat right n— H, HEY?! JACK WHAT ARE YOU—”

“We’re going to the infirmary. Now!”

“HUHHH—?! WHY AM I GETTING DEJA VU— HEY JACK— STOP—”

There was a report that came to the headmaster that day that a certain wolf was picking their beloved prefect by the shoulder like a potato sack and screaming profusely, which echoed in the empty hallway. Up to this day, the misunderstanding still exists despite the numerous explanations that have been provided.

[amusingmusie]

Hey!!! Whenever Alastor's real voice is mentioned, do you have any people that you compare it to? Like not exactly a voice claim but kind of. Just curious 👀

OUGH I remember talking about this a few months ago but I can't find my own post....the best way I know how to explain it is I used to voraciously consume the Hunicast when Bosco was still voicing Al. There were a few times he did a Cajun accent, and while I don't envision THAT particular accent for my Al, I really liked how deep his voice got.

Then he started voicing Striker and honestly? The accent again is a little too bumpkin for what I hear in my head, but it's not far off and probably the closest we'll get to a Southern Al. I have yet to find Mr. Amir but also I began writing Yours Truly during the pilot days (my fav days huh who said that) so I still hear a lot of Bosco in my Alastor!

[hollow-prior]

All MLP Characters

Simply because I'm rewatching and enjoy making lists :)

A:

Angel (Bunny)

Apple Bloom (Earth Pony)

Apple Brown Bake (Earth Pony)

Apple Bumpkin (Earth Pony)

Apple Cinnamon Crisp (Earth Pony)

Apple Frias (Earth Pony)

Apple Fritter (Earth Pony)

Applejack (Earth Pony)

Apple Rose (Earth Pony)

Applesauce (Earth Pony)

Apple Strudel (Earth Pony)

Apple Tart (Earth Pony)

B:

Babs Seed (Earth Pony)

Baked Apples (Earth Pony)

Big Macintosh (Earth Pony)

Blossomforth (Pegasus)

[Prince] Blueblood (Unicorn)

Braeburn (Earth Pony)

Bulk Biceps (Pegasus)

C:

[Princess] Cadence (Alicorn)

Caramel Apple (Earth Pony)

Carrot Cake (Earth Pony)

[Princess] Celestia (Alicorn)

Cerberus (Three-Headed Dog)

Cheerilee (Earth Pony)

Cheese Sandwich (Earth Pony)

Cloud Chaser (Pegasus)

Clover [the Clever] (Unicorn)

Coco Pommel (Earth Pony)

Crackle (Dragon)

Cranky Doodle Donkey (Donkey)

Cup Cake (Earth Pony)

D:

Daisy (Earth Pony)

Daisy Jo (Cow)

Daring Do (Pegasus)

Diamond Tiara (Earth Pony)

Discord (Draconequus)

Ditzy Doo (Pegasus)

E:

[Commander] Easy Glider (Pegasus)

F:

[Admiral] Fairy Flight (Pegasus)

Fancy Pants (Unicorn)

Featherweight (Pegasus)

Filthy Rich (Earth Pony)

[General] Firefly (Pegasus)

Flam (Unicorn)

[General] Flash (Pegasus)

Flash Sentry (Pegasus)

Fleetfoot (Pegasus)

Flim (Unicorn)

Flitter (Pegasus)

Fluttershy (Pegasus)

G:

Garble (Dragon)

Gilda (Griffon)

Golden Delicious (Earth Pony)

Granny Smith (Earth Pony)

Gummy (Alligator)

Gustave le Grand (Griffon)

H:

Harshwhinny (Earth Pony)

Hayseed Turnip Truck (Earth Pony)

Hoity Toity (Earth Pony)

[Commander] Hurricane (Pegasus)

I:

Iron Will (Minotaur)

J:

Jet Set (Unicorn)

Joe (Unicorn)

Junebug (Earth Pony)

K:

Kingpin (Unicorn)

L:

Lickety-Split (Earth Pony)

Lightning Dust (Pegasus)

Little Strongheart (Buffalo)

[Princess] Luna/Nightmare Moon (Alicorn)

M:

Matilda (Donkey)

Maud Pie (Earth Pony)

Moon Dancer (Unknown Pony)

Mooriella (Cow)

Mulia Mild (Mule)

N:

O:

Opalescence (Cat)

Owlowiscious (Owl)

P:

Peachy Pie (Earth Pony)

Peewee (Phoenix)

Pipsqueak (Earth Pony)

Philomena (Phoenix)

Photo Finish (Earth Pony)

Pinkie Pie (Earth Pony)

Prim Hemline (Earth Pony)

[Princess] Platinum (Unicorn)

Pound Cake (Pegasus)

[Chancellor] Pudding Hat (Earth Pony)

Pumpkin Cake (Unicorn)

[Colonel] Purple Dart (Pegasus)

Q:

R:

Rainbow Dash (Pegasus)

Randolph (Earth Pony)

Rapidfire (Pegasus)

Rarity (Unicorn)

Red Delicious (Earth Pony)

Red Gala (Earth Pony)

Rose (Earth Pony)

Rumble (Pegasus)

S:

Sapphire Shores (Earth Pony)

Seabreeze (Breezie)

Scootaloo (Pegasus)

Shining Armor (Unicorn)

Silver Shill (Earth Pony)

Silverspeed (Pegasus)

Silver Spoon (Earth Pony)

[Sheriff] Silverstar (Earth Pony)

Smart Cookie (Earth Pony)

Snails (Unicorn)

Snips (Unicorn)

Soarin (Pegasus)

[King] Sombra (Unicorn)

Spike (Dragon)

Spitfire (Pegasus)

Star Swirl the Bearded (Unicorn)

Stinking Rich (Earth Pony)

Sunny Daze (Earth Pony)

Suri Polomare (Earth Pony)

Sunset Shimmer (Unicorn)

Sweetie Belle (Unicorn)

T:

[Chief] Thunderhooves (Buffalo)

Thunderlane (Pegasus)

Trenderhoof (Unicorn)

Trixie (Unicorn)

[Princess] Twilight Sparkle (Unicorn -> Alicorn)

Twist (Earth Pony)

U:

Upper Crust (Unicorn)

V:

W:

[Mr.] Waddle (Earth Pony)

Winona (Dog)

X:

Y:

Z:

Zecora (Zebra)

Zipporwhill (Pegasus)

[yril-writes]

— NEVER AGAIN

synopsis ; they say promises are meant to be broken, maybe they are right. But this glimpse of hope inside you says it's okay to push through, and who knew that trusting your gut would just put everything into flames and turn to ashes the next day.

scenario ; reincarnation?! Wherein Sukuna choose the life of being a yakuza?! And you choose a normal one, to be able to live peacefully but there comes a time that you have to move into the city one day.

type ; drabble

include/s ; ryoumen sukuna

pairing/s ; yakuza character x fl! reader

genre ; angst and a mountain full of sad corn

Promises are meant to be broken, is what they say. But that is not what you wanted to believe. Some may say you are naive which is true, but you see the world like it is something that's pure and full of opportunities without even having thoughts about what's bad about it. Now that you are moving in the city, you didn't even bat an eye about the decisions you are making, you only thought that this was a great idea for your flower shop business nothing more nothing less. The reason why you were on your way into the city is because your grandmother felt ill and there is no one able to look after the shop while your grandmother is in the hospital, so you the lovely granddaughter offered a helping hand, and immediately went there.

"City! Here I come!" dragging your suitcase and carrying a bag behind your bag you made your way to the train station. The trip wasn't all that hassle or anything, in fact it was fast. Since it was in the bullet train. Upon arriving at your destination, the breeze immediately filled your nostrils, you thought that the air in the city is completely different back home, of course it is. The moment when you set your foot out of the train it felt different, everything is different how they wore their clothes and even lifestyle here looks different, and here you are a bumpkin girl from the outskirts of nowhere. Seconds later you received a phone call it was your grandfather, immediately answering you were greeted with cries of worries and you quickly reassured them it didn't take too long for your aunt to come and get you from the station.

She immediately directed you towards the flower shop and toured you around, the second floor of the shop looked like a normal mini house and your aunt told you that you can stay there until your grandmother recovers. Going upstairs the room took you by surprise because it was perfect and cozy, unpacking your things and you hear the bell of the shop down stairs chime. Running down the stairs you immediately greeted the customer who came in without having a look at them first. "You're not the old lady who owns this shop." with a low deep voice, you were stunned to see a tall figure in front of you, wearing white fitted polo enough to see every curve and muscle this guys had to offer and a black slightly fitted slacks and a pair of black shoes to pair the outfit up. "My grandmother is in the hospital and I was asked to run this place starting today! So Mr. Hot Man, I MEAN! Mr. Scary Hot Man! What can I get you?" slamming both of your hands on the counter top, and giving yourself a little kick on the other leg you had, you feel your ears and the back of your neck turning red from embarrassment.

(Oh! Please kill me now!!!) you were dying inside while holding up a grin in front of the scary looking guy. "I'd like to have some white roses turned to a bouquet and a nice presentation would be nice." he said in a low tone and sat in the waiting area beside the counter area where you were standing, staring at nothing. You were completely frozen, taken back from the request and demand of the man. (SIR! I DON'T KNOW HOW TO! AT LEAST GIVE ME A BREAK! A simple one might be good for me but a bouquet?...this guy...) screaming internally you wished to be swallowed whole by the floors you were stepping on. The man didn't move an inch from his seat, not even paying attention to what you were doing in the counter, those eyes of him seemed somewhat sad and empty you thought. "So, Sir, these flowers...I bet you are giving them to someone who's special to you...!" he stood as if frozen into place, he only looked at you and shrugged, "I bought these because I wanted to let go of that person.

This is a farewell gift." he shrugs and gives a sad grin, though his eyes look as if it was going to burst any seconds now. "It was nice to see you again, I hope that we never crossed paths ever again." he utters those words under his breath with you not hearing those words clearly. After he buys and pays for the bouquet he leaves, like the breeze this summer, it comes and goes as it pleases.

a/n ; I think I'll be having angst stuff to put out for today lmao, enjoy the sad corn.

taglist ; @sammushy @jasugoi @ryuuudesuwa @gcj-doesart

content/s ; part one | part two

[the-trinket-witch]

Haiii 👀 may I ask for 🎞️ and 👁️ for M. Khan please ?

(Ask meme Here)

PAST:

"Congratulations, Mr Khan," Crowley smiled. The plastic smile reached up to the glow under his mask as he shook the hand of a large tiger beastman. "I hereby present thee with your educational diploma. It's been a pleasure teaching you here at Night Raven College. As I would from all my students: I expect to hear great things from you~"

"Thank you, Headmaster," Rajesh growled with an equally rigid grin. "I plan on it."

FUTURE:

"This is a first, for you," Mr Khan chuckled. The phone on his desk crackled with speaker ambience; voices in an infirmary ward.

"Yesss, and in any other circumssstance I wouldn't bother calling," Dr Sona groaned. He couldn't help silently thanking The Seven for The Boss not requesting a video call. "But that Sssick leave I've accumulated will need to be put to use finally. I'm a bit under the weather."

"If you of all people are asking for sick leave, then it must be serious," Rajesh sighed. "Consider your 'mission' on hold for the time being. Before you go, though, I'd like a report on that Spade Delivery Acquisition."

There was a pause from the other end. A long, concerning pause. "A...recccent development has made the Acquisition much more difficult. Unfortunately Ms Ssspade has been convinced not to sell the company; and the bumpkins in her town have all been raising a ssstink about 'keeping business local'. It may be a bit of of a headache to continue, I'm afraid."

Another pause, this time on Khan's end. From the silence, came a low but quickly deafening roar. The other end rattled into ending the call. A clenched Tiger's fist slammed the desk in frustration. I'm not going to waste time or money with such a thing; if they want their business so damn bad, they can fight against competition for it.

TAGLIST (I forgot to add)

@ceruleancattail @squidwen @thecosmicjackalope @vaporvipermedia @writing-heiress

@oya-oya-okay @k-looking-glass-house @thehollowwriter @rainesol @cyn-write

@heartscrypt @br3adtoasty @jackiecronefield @ruggiethethuggie @hoboyherewego

@achy-boo @oreoskys @oseathepebble @oathofoaks @tunabesimpin

@hamstergal @fumikomiyasaki @valse-a-mille-temps @hallowed-delights

@kimikitti @plutos-hell @thetwstwildcard @atwstedstory @comingyourlugubriousness

@ice-cweam-sod4 @twst-the-night-away @nammanarin @scint1llat3 @tixdixl

[spheroz]

HOR HOR HOR

I LIVE for country boys getting goth girlfriend/boyfriend! You don’t underSTAND. NICO AND WILL. Will is a country as muderfocker!!! And Nico is his goth girlfriend!! JON KENT! Country bumpkin!!! Damian is his goth boyfriend!!!!!(I will take no criticism btw. I know Damian isn’t really ‘goth’ (Nico isn’t entirely either he’s just emo) but it’s the premise!!!!) LIKE THEY ATENT GOTH, BUT THEY COULD BE!!! AND THEN MR YEE HAW OVER THERE IS ALL LIKE “…Save a horse 🤨, Ride a cowboy 😏” and LIKE YEHA :3! I KNOW THERE ARE OTHER EXAMPLES!!! BUT RAHHH

[biffhofosho]

Sneak Peek: Fill Her Up, My Fine Friend

Excerpt from an upcoming Hyungwon oneshot that's been in the works for ages but has finally come to fruition. It was honestly one of the first oneshots I drafted YEARS ago, but the muse takes me where she wants me, and for a long time, I had to follow, but there was just always something about this fic that I've loved, and soon, I'll be able to share it, too. :)

When Freya had moved to Seoul from the American Midwest, everything had felt like a tidal wave of terrifying change. The traffic, the people, the neon, the food carts—it was total sensory overload. The most exciting things to ever happen in middle-of-nowhere Pilot Mound, Iowa, were the thunderstorms across the corn fields and Mrs. Ogden’s rooster waiting to attack her ankles at the end of her driveway.

What did Freya understand about the big world since she’d never seen any of it? She hadn’t been convinced she’d succeed a world apart from everything she’d ever known, but it turned out, she was pretty good at tutoring. She’d built up a healthy side business out of her apartment in addition to the translation work she did for a local tourism firm. She had friends and adventure and a respectable income. She didn’t want for anything.

Except for the untouchable heartthrob sitting across from her.

“You should be proud,” Freya said confidently. “You have made so much progress. By the time you travel to the States, you might pass for an American.”

She wasn’t just stroking his ego either. Hyungwon really had made huge strides, even if she wished he’d pushed a little harder outside their sessions. If his end goal was impressing his girlfriend’s American parents, as he’d hinted in their first session, they would no doubt be singing his praises in a few more weeks. Of course, the realist side of Freya knew that meant he would likely propose while overseas, but at least she could take pride in knowing she’d helped make the world’s most appealing man just a touch more impressive.

“What do you say?” asked Freya. “Do you think you’re ready to graduate to the letter F?”

The stiffness in his neck was unmistakable and very familiar. In the years since she’d started her tutoring business, she’d seen it a hundred times, especially at this point in the curriculum, so she had developed a strategy for just such occasions.

Freya pushed back from the table and sagged back against the foot of the couch as she offered her brightest grin, the one that showcased her cornflower blue eyes and hayseed freckles. Back in Iowa, she was just another country bumpkin; in Seoul, she was exotic, which was perfect for diverting defenses. She skirted around the table so this time she was right in front of Hyungwon, nothing in between them. With a little wiggle and tuck to get comfortable and chaste in her dress, she looked up into the tall boy’s eyes.

They were so brown and clear and full of unexpected character, like seeing to the bottom of a stream on a sunny day. Freya wondered how often his girlfriend got lost in his eyes.

But this wasn’t why he was here…

Lips, Freya! Lips! she chastised herself but regretted it the moment her gaze fell to that freckle studding the ripe pinkness of his mouth, like a forgotten crumb begging to be eaten up…

She cleared her throat and pointed to her own lips. “You do better when you see the difference between the sounds. Let’s practice a word you use every day. Instead of ‘keo-pi,’ try saying ‘cof-fee’.”

“Keopi,” Hyungwon said immediately, and at once, he knew he’d failed. The corner of his lips wobbled down toward a frown, but Freya smiled at him.

“Just listen to the sound carefully, watch my lips, and repeat.”

Her teeth grazed her bottom lip as she puffed out a long f sound. A moment later, Hyungwon mirrored her, but Freya could tell right away his lips were too pursed, almost as though he were waiting for a kiss, and before she could think better of it, her hand reached toward him. She caught it at the last possible second, her thumb frozen just above his bottom lip while her hand hovered a millimeter from his cheek.

“Sorry,” she stammered. “Um, try moving your lips a different way. The p sound is all lips but the f sound uses your teeth a bit so the air can blow around them like steam from a kettle.”

Hyungwon nodded though his eyes still rested on the hand that had almost touched his mouth. He tried again, but the p sound stubbornly clung to those skilled and sculpted oral muscles.

Focus on the lesson, Freya…

This time, she had the presence of mind to think before she acted. She glanced down to his hand resting on his knee and asked, “May I?”

Hyungwon followed her gaze and nodded slowly. The moment her fingers closed around his wrist, a swarm of butterflies alighted in her stomach. Freya did her best to rip their wings off before they got the better of her, and she flattened his palm, holding it a reasonable distance from her mouth.

“Okay, so, um…” Great, now the English tutor could hear what a stumbling, unprofessional mess she was, but his skin was just so soft and warm. Thank God for his hoodie or her hand might have wandered against her will up his forearm. “Just hold this here so you can feel the difference in the sounds, and then you can try on yourself, too.”

Freya took a deep breath and then made both the p and the f sound. The first sound hit his palm like a missile of air while the second barely grazed it in a sustained hiss.

“You feel that, right?” she asked, reminding herself strenuously that she meant the sounds and not the energy zipping up her fingertips from his wrist. “One is over with quickly, and the other can last as long as you want.”

Hyungwon’s eyes widened as though he’d just unlocked some great secret, and as soon as Freya released him, he immediately tried both sounds a few times until she could finally hear that telltale flow of breath the sound required.

“You’re a fast learner,” she praised. “Now you can try it in a word like ‘coffee.’”

This time when Hyungwon tried the word, it sounded more like an h than a p, but Freya rejoiced at his progress. Over the next several minutes, they practiced words with f’s until he really familiarized himself the sound. Sentences followed, simple at first, with some building on the sounds from the previous lesson to ease him into the rhythm and reinforce his pronunciation. She would be well and truly proud if it weren’t for the grating fact that he was doing this all to impress his girlfriend’s parents.

“Find the frog fast,” Hyungwon finished for the third time.

“Wow, okay. Now, you’re really showing up all my other students,” she said.

His grin was so broad, it showcased a glint of a silver tooth way in the back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Freya could feel the pink in her cheeks, so she grabbed her lesson plan and focused on that instead. They were nearing the end of the day’s exercises, and just like she knew he would curse her for the monstrous Siri sentence she’d lobbed at him earlier, she braced for the next impact.

“Ready for the next challenge?” she asked as she handed him another note. “This one will work on both the f sound and an American idiom, which will add to your fluency.”

Hyungwon’s brow furrowed as he read the paper. When he looked back at her, his gaze was scolding, and electricity charged down Freya’s spine.

“Do you know what that means?” she asked.

There was a flare in his eyes before they tempered, and he shook his head.

“It’s something you might say to someone who works at a gas station or even at a cafe. Pretend you just finished your cup of coffee and would like a refill. Go ahead, try it. I’ll get us started. Will there be anything else, sir?”

For a long moment, Hyungwon stared at her. There was so much more to be found in eyes, so much more to misinterpret. It was easier to see things she wanted to see, and right now, Freya wanted to see desire in them.

Her breath quickened, and because it was so quiet in her apartment, she heard it.

“Will there be anything else, sir?” she repeated.

At last, Hyungwon looked back at the sheet. If she thought he would just read it like he had the last sentence, she was sorely mistaken. This time, he memorized it, and when he looked back up, it was straight into her eyes.

“Fill her up, my fine friend.”

[eleanore-delphinium]

The Prince of Wayne (Summary)

I admit, I really thought this was a sure loss. I did not expect that this would win when I set the poll.

I don’t know where to start. I also know I asked that poll ages ago, but here it is guys. Finally.

I am still working on A Future With You Summary, at this time of posting, it is at 8k words and I am halfway through the story.

I am honestly surprised this won. And I think it won because everyone had a misconception about what this story is. This happens in modern times in a university. This isn’t about a Prince or anything historical. If that is even the reason why this won.

 With that said, I’m not sure where to start. 

 Firstly, I think you guys have to be aware this is inspired by shows like ‘Meteor Garden’, ‘Boys Over Flowers’ also known as ‘Hana yori Dango’. 

 Secondly, I’ve only ever seen Meteor Garden though, and my memory of it is blotchy. But anyway, the new girl goes to this elite school and there is this group of famous guys, and the plot is kinda of dumb (unrealistic really), but it was enjoyable as a kid. And the classic scene in Asia where the mother pays the new girl (who fell in love with the leader of said famous group of guys) to leave her son. 

 Thirdly, those points I mentioned are what inspired me to make this AU. And which is why the title is “The Prince of Wayne”. I struggled with this if I should have had ‘The Princes of Wayne’ because Bruce did adopt a lot of sons. But I figured since Damian is the only one with the family name, by using the singular form it is more targeted to him specifically. Because it is a story more about him (and Raven).

 In conclusion, keep those points in mind, I thought it was necessary information for you to know before we get into the actual fic summary. And this is not supposed to be very serious, of course, there are dark themes, but it won’t be the focus, which honestly is pretty glossed over. It’s more on just school life really. It is also like a commentary/ comedy about these kinds of stories. Raven is very self-aware, that is for sure.

 This might be the closest to me writing this though, I hope you guys enjoy it.

THE START

 The story starts with a new girl named Raven. She got into the most prestigious school in Gotham. Everyone knew that she was just some scholar/sponsored student. And in stories like this, there are a number of people who look down at her for it. She is just the black sheep of this elite school.

 And as this kind of story goes, of course, she doesn’t know of the silent rules of the campus. Like for example the off-limits ‘The Sons of Mr. Wayne’ or ‘Sons of Wayne’ or maybe ‘Mr. Wayne’s Princes’, which is why the title is the way it is, it was supposed to be a play on their clique name. 

 Anyway, Raven didn’t pay much attention to it. Why would she? She wasn’t interested in that kind of stuff and she was there to study. She minded her own business.

 Someone was showing her around campus who also kindly explained the Sons of Wayne to her. With the way her tour guide was sharing the information, it seemed like these men were celebrities. It is revealed that Raven doesn’t even know who Bruce Wayne is, and her fellow schoolmate is shocked. This would paint Raven as such a country bumpkin. She doesn’t mind because like always she minds her own business. 

 Raven’s guide tells her that Richard “Dick” Greyson is in the Business Department doing his master's. Tim Drake is in the IT and/or computer science department of the school. Jason Todd has been shifting around for a while now and can’t seem to stick to one Department, but currently, he is in (honestly forgot this information but maybe) Psychology (he likely heard it was easy and he always goes to what is easy). Damian Wayne is in Chemistry or Biology (I am not so sure too, but more certain with this than Jason’s), the guide would say that she heard Damian was good with computers but she (along with everyone else was) surprised when he didn’t proceed with anything computer related. People believed that he did this so he wouldn’t be overshadowed by Tim. But all of Wayne’s sons were known to be smart. Well, they were sure Jason was if he just tried, but sadly he doesn’t. Raven, if I recall, is a history major because she was compensating for the lack of knowledge she has about history, which will be mentioned later (her origins are pretty dark sadly).

 This would be a good way to introduce the title though maybe Raven was asking why they are Bruce Wayne’s kids if only one had the name, Wayne. And she would be told Bruce adopted the others but Damian is Bruce’s biological son, thus he is known as ‘The Prince of Wayne’, perhaps also believed to be the heir apparent because he was directly related to Bruce.

 Anyways, moving on, at times she’d see the crowd surrounding one of Bruce Wayne’s sons but she can’t see the said son because of the crowd. She would make commentaries that the school doesn’t seem like school most times especially when these mysterious sons are involved. 

 In one of those crowd-filled insanity, Raven was running from a crowd and hid on a rooftop and stumbled on a man sleeping. He had black hair and he opened his eyes and groaned, glaring at her. He had green eyes.

 This was how Damian Wayne and Raven Roth met. 

 At first, he thought that she was one of those crazy fan classmates or whatever, but she looked at him like he was a creep. He even told her to get lost because this was his spot and he didn’t want to have to find a new hiding place. She’d scowl because this rooftop isn’t his. And that is how he’d realized she didn’t know him or eventually as they interacted, he’d realise that she didn’t know him.

 The rooftop is where they’d meet and eventually become friends. 

 She would even complain to him about how absurd it is that these schoolmates of hers are obsessed with Bruce's sons. He’d chuckle and listen to her. She’d even rant how the youngest, whatever his name was, skipped classes every time but somehow had top grades. And people like her have to show up to classes or else. Jason, though, was the worst and she’d say how nice it is to have so much money at their disposal.

 Eventually, in that space that is where they would fall in love. He fell for her first.

 They even share meals or snacks and naps.

 But outside of that space, Raven doesn’t see him. She didn’t know though that he started keeping his eye on her. 

 Damian would notice that Raven was an extremely odder ball than he initially thought. 

 He’d see Raven sneak out back or somewhere to see her enter a luxurious black and heavily tinted car. Sometimes she just enters to leave, sometimes the car would take her somewhere and the time she’d return would vary.

 Eventually, a rumour that she was some mistress to a rich old man appeared. But she minded her business. Damian was not happy with the rumour or the fact that it seemed true. He wanted to ask her about it. 

 Raven also met this female classmate who seemed to like dressing up to different aesthetics and changing her hair with wigs. The girl was a happy lady whose hair or general aesthetics were never the same the day before. The friend is quite an upbeat and happy girl. Take note of this friend, folks. 

 At this point, If I recall correctly, Raven would be avoiding Damian which would make him talk to her publicly because he was so annoyed. People would realise that they have formed some kind of relationship with one another. He would also confront her about this ‘older man’ rumour or her as a mistress.

 I faintly recall she tried to avoid answering which then frustrated him and made him confess to her. And when I say avoid, she avoided him for days. 

 The friend (different aesthetics every day) would immediately leave Raven if she sees Damian approaching as if she was scared of Damian at first. Eventually, the friend would stop avoiding Damian but Raven would notice that Damian and the friend would seem to have secret glances at one another.

 Then I think Damian and Raven started dating. Raven told him that the car she goes into was the person who helped her go to this school, so in a way, she guessed the rumours weren't wrong, but there was nothing romantic going on with her and that person. Damian just had to trust her. She refused to tell him who that person was. That person was her lifesaver. 

 Eventually, she would tell Damian who the person is, and it has to start with how she met him (the sponsor). 

 Raven tells him that she was in rags, running in the streets of Gotham barefoot, escaping from someone. She begged for help from people, but no one wanted anything to do with her. Especially with the rags she had on. She felt hopeless. Then suddenly a man in a suit was before her and asked if she needed help. The first person who looked her in the eyes. He then told her that she could go with him and he’d help her out. 

 She knew it was stupid to trust a stranger, but anything was better than getting caught from the very place she had just escaped from. She told Damian that she was held captive by some satanic cult, she didn’t want him to know this because she was ashamed. But if Damian had to know who the sponsor is, he also had to understand how they met and how important this sponsor was to her.

 She didn’t get any bad vibes from him so she followed him back to his limo.

 The sponsor was the one who helped her integrate back into society. He did it very patiently too. This is also why she took up history as her major. She wanted to know more about the world because she was hidden from it for too long. And she would also like to understand why there were people like those who took her. 

 Raven wasn’t sure why he was being nice, but he would tell her that someone he cared about asked him to, but he couldn’t say who. Her sponsor is a slightly older male, maybe Dick’s age or just 4 years or more older than Raven. He is currently working at his father’s company and is a name that Damian recognized as they are from the same social group. Damian was shocked to know about how Raven lived before escaping and he swore he’d give her everything and the best life that she deserved.

 Then I remember that Raven would go with Damian to some high-class party. Where she meets a platinum blonde-haired woman with light blue eyes, and not a single strand of her blonde hair is astray. Her voice sounded familiar but she spoke calmly and evenly, and in an almost indifferent manner. She looked posh and proper.

 But the way she talked to Raven it seemed like they were long friends. The blonde then introduced herself as Raven’s friend who’d dress over the top, to Raven’s shock. The friend explained that she comes from an old money family who is quite controlling. As seen in how she is currently dressed and acting. In fact, her identity in school is hidden because she ran from her family and her fiancé was the one who helped her do so. And if her family had it their way, she would have already been married to her childhood friend. The reason she also dresses up differently, aside from experimenting as such clothing would not be allowed by her family, it also serves as a disguise. She would even say that her platinum blonde hair is not natural, but her mother insisted that the palest blonde was the best for her and the family’s image as they were known for that shade of blonde. 

 Damian also knows her as they grew up together in the same social circle, and as they were of a closer age, were friends too. 

 Raven’s friend would reveal that the day Raven met her sponsor, she was the one who noticed Raven. The sponsor was Raven’s friend’s fiancée and childhood sweetheart. She had moved to the front when her fiancé went to get Raven at her command. Which was why Raven did not meet her.

 She apologized for keeping her identity a secret but she was regularly clothed and was hiding from her parents. She was just thankful that she had a very supportive fiancé. 

 And now back, to that whole troupe where the mother of the rich male lead gives money to the girlfriend to leave her son. 

 Raven experienced the same with Talia and Raven is just like: This cannot be happening, this is not like those dramas. 

 And as I said, this fic is more on comedy, so there will be those exaggerated scenes where it is clearly impossible but Raven is self-aware and comments or snickers about them. Damian too would share with her that this place, especially the university, is weird.

 And they’d bond over the weirdness of the school or their world in general. This part might happen while they are becoming friends on the rooftop and can continue on as they get together as a couple.

 And I think that is all for this story. It has been quite a while since I made this story idea so I know I missed a few things. 

 I do faintly remember the confession scene, they were on campus, the sun was setting and Raven was going to go to the black expensive car and Damian ran to her, stopped her, and told her he liked her. And not to go and ask if the rumours were true. I know I cried over it as I thought of the scene, but I don’t remember much of this storyline as I had mentioned at the poll.

 Anyway, I hope this rather long summary was worth your time. 

 If any of you have any questions, even in general, you can always ask me. :)