#despite it's obnoxious or overwhelming nature

[voyage-of-the-mind]

Shoutout to the girl who is HIGH-KEY suspicious and a hypocrite. Your footsteps remind me of simpler times. Nostalgia walks with you.

[edytae]

Rush³: Bed (smut-mature) ft Kim Taehyung x Reader

(do not interact if you are underage)

pairing: non-idol!Taehyung x (female) reader

summary: just a short porn

rating: 18+

genre/warnings: smut, spit play, dirty talk, oc is whiny and desperate, unprotected sex (always use protection!)

word count: 6.8K

masterlist | part1 rush: concert | part2 rush: club | part3: rush: bed

——–——

You and mostly Taehyung fell tired after the refreshing shower. He teased you that the two of you were getting old. “We would’ve been fucking like rabbits if it was five years ago.” He groaned as he sat on the couch with a backache after cleaning the mess you made on your couch. You chuckled tiredly. 

You were clasping onto your glass with all your strength and casually drinking as Taehyung started munching on some leftover pasta with beer. You were too horny and you wanted him to fuck you again. As Taaehyung seemed too tired and hungry, you opted for drinking. 

“You are an actual goddess for saving these for me.”  He was obnoxiously moaning with a mouth filled with pasta. 

You couldn't help but be drawn to the way he savoured each bite, his enjoyment apparent in the way his eyes fluttered shut briefly with every mouthful. 

You look up Taehyung's side profile. His fluffy hair wasn’t styled, his pretty handsome face moisturised with your expensive stuff, lips moisturized by greasy pasta. You were still yearning for him after he made you ruin his trousers with only a few of his fingers. 

His natural brown hair curled to his forehead to accentuate his strong jawline and captivating features. The weariness of the day lingered in the lines around his eyes, yet his gaze remained as striking and magnetic as ever.

Taehyung's casual attire, comfortable T-shirt and loose-fitting sweatpants, contrasted with the elegance he naturally exuded.  With a beer in hand, his Adam's apple bobbed gently as he took a long, refreshing sip. His eyes met yours, and the shared warmth between you filled the room, creating an atmosphere that was both comforting and intimate. Despite the fatigue that weighed on both of you, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having him by your side. Your house feels like a home when he is in it. He makes the room lit up, he makes you feel alive, and aware of time and place. 

“Whatcha looking at?” He asked.

“Looking at something pretty.” You said, eyeing him up and down. Oh, the soju shot you had while he warmed up the leftovers was definitely kicking in. He fluffed the hair at his nape like a princess and blew you a kiss. Even though he could return for some mindless TV, you had soju-brain so you continued to eat him up with your eyes.

Taehyung's presence was magnetic, drawing your gaze as if he were the centre of your universe. Every aspect of his appearance seemed meticulously crafted by an artist's hand, his every feature melding together to form a breathtaking portrait of masculine allure.

As he leaned back on his couch, his form exuded a relaxed confidence, an easy grace that spoke of a man comfortable in his own skin. The way he moved, the way he spoke, he had the hallmarks of a natural charisma, drawing you in with an almost gravitational force. Each detail, from the way he sipped his drink to the way he absentmindedly chewed, only served to deepen your fascination.

You took your third shot of the night. The crispy alcohol burnt through your throat as Taehyung looked at you questioningly. His face squeezed into a worried look. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” You blurred, your core gaping because of his fingers; but he didn’t need to know that. 

Taehyung grinned, “Yeah? You still have orgasms left in you, baby?” He asked you in pity. You licked your lips and stared at him. 

When he swallowed his last bite along with the last sip of his beer, you literally jumped on him. You couldn’t wait anymore “Y/N!” He squeaked.

“Tae… Kiss me…” You whined when you straddled his thighs and started kissing every bit of skin you could reach, Taehyung knew the second round had just begun.

“Baby!” He scolded you as you kissed around his face. “You gotta stop kiss-attacking me…” He whined but sounded so pleased. 

“Why not?” You stopped kissing him immediately with a fake pout. “You don’t like my kisses?” 

An hour ago, your body was jelly on him. He quite literally made you lose your mind as he finger fucked you to another planet. Now, you were back to demand more of his sweet pleasure.

Taehyung loved how you easily got into a playful zone and fucking play with him as if he was your doll. You moulded him to your pleasure. “I- I love them, baby…” He whispered quietly as you took your spot on him. Your weight on his thighs was spectacular. Your freshly washed hair was still slightly damped, making Taehyung shiver at the gentle cold feeling. 

The shower was sweet and tender. He helped you wash your hair and was surprised by the amount of hair that fell out. Then, he let you wash his hair too. You played with his hair and gave him a mohawk with your shampoo. You washed his body with your new body wash– the ocean breeze scent was going to be a new hit in Taehyung’s shower routine. Your hand timidly wrapped around his length, “I squirted a gallon, and you haven’t cum yet.” 

Taehyung, instead, interlaced your fingers with his and made out with you. “It’s fine, baby… Let’s enjoy our shower.” 

After the shower, while you put on your skincare, he stood right behind you–with your hideous robe around his waist. He looked delicious. Wet Taehyung was fucking sexy than everything. While the robe threatened to fall down, he leisurely decided to shave. Unfortunately, you have run out of razors for him so he opted for using your Gillette Venus. 

“Is this new?” He pointed at the razor head. He never had this good-looking razor. The purple colour was pretty too.

“I use it before going to laser removal. I used it a couple of times.” You watched him shrug and put on shaving cream. 

You warned him with a squeal, “Taehyung, you know I shaved down there with that.” 

Taehyung looked at you blankly. “You know, down here…” You pointed with your hand but he remained confused. 

“I am sure I have an unused one. Let me–” 

Taehyung’s reaction was priceless. “Y/N. I would smear myself with your cunt any second of the day and have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. So, I don’t mind if this little razor touched your little mound. Got it?”

You looked at him through the mirror and nodded. He hummed lowly and started shaving. You liked his little stubble beard. It made him look more mature and in your opinion, yummy. However, your little mound– as he called it– got irritated whenever he ate you out. His choice was clear between eating you out as hard as he wanted or his bad excuse of a beard. 

You were eager to put on skincare on him after he shaved, but both of you were very tired. You pouted as you slathered yourself in body lotion, “I need you to be my little spa girl, but I am sooo tired, TaeTae…”  

Taehyung laughed at you as you messily rubbed lotion on your legs. He followed you to your room with a pink floral towel around his waist. He enjoyed being in your company, soaking your slightly horny domestic side.

“Taehyung…” Taehyung flinched out from his daydreaming as you groaned over his crotch. Your hips were rocking against him like a teenager. When he looked at your face, he could only focus on your lustful eyes. 

“Yes, baby?” He answered back. He let himself get lured into you. 

“I need you again.” You whispered. 

“You need me to do what, baby?” He threaded your hair fringe behind your ear.

“I need your dick… Taehyung, please…” You tried to chase his dick but he wasn’t supporting an erection. His raging dick had just come down.

“Taehyung please…” You cried on his lap. 

Taehyung chuckled with a pitying tone. “You are such a needy girl, baby. I can’t–” His teasing abruptly stopped when you cried. “Y/N?” He yelled. “Why are you crying, baby? What’s wrong?” His worried tone made you feel guilty. 

“I–hh- am s-stil so w–et f-for you, Taehyung.” You wouldn’t believe you were shedding tears because of how horny you were. 

Taehyung’s face softened, “Y/N… I– You are one crazy girl, you know that right?” He wiped the tears off of your cheeks and pecked them gently. 

“You make me crazy…” You wheezed out as he shook his head. 

“Unbelievable, Y/N.” He was amazed at your unwavering neediness. 

“You can’t let me be dickless...” You kissed down his throat, pushing and pulling him all the places as you writhed on his spreaded thighs. 

“Be dickless?” He chuckled. He melted into the couch as he let you take reign.

You shrugged. You didn’t want him to speak, you needed his pretty lips on you. “You never fuck me.” You cried but no tears came out. You were the epitome of his pampered princess.

“I never fuck you? How many times did we hang out this week?” He interrogated.

“Not enough.” You didn’t like how he was still talking, but it was intentional. He would do anything to just stretch your patience thin.

“Three days a week right?” He did the math for you.

“I need seven.” You shrugged and pushed his head back to kiss on his neck. 

“Seven days a week?” Taehyung chuckled as he let you be his little vampire. 

“24/7. All day.” Kissing him wasn’t enough. You had enough of kissing his delicious skin for minutes and you were still starving. 

You bit his soft cheeks and jaw, making him hiss playfully. “Are you hungry, baby? I would’ve shared my leftovers with you if you asked.” Taehyung pointed at the empty plate on the coffee table. 

“Tae… I wanna fuck you so hard…” You spurred while pulling his useless pants away. Taehyung promised himself to never be clothed around you. It seemed they made your job only more difficult.

“You can’t.” Taehyung ripped your hands away as your eyes widened with worry. You pulled yourself back to his knees, giving him space.

“I can’t?” You asked with worry.

Taehyung grinned, “I just cleaned the couch. We need to go to the bed if you want to fuck me.” He pointed to the huge wet patch on the couch.

You rolled your eyes. “You are so mean, Taehyung.” You lunged forward to hug him. 

“You really thought I wouldn’t want this, huh?” Taehyung teased.

You shrugged, “You have every right to…” 

Taehyung caressed your back softly as you kissed his pretty shoulders.

“Let’s go to bed so you can fuck me, okay?” He offered.

Your eyes found him, “I will fuck your brains out, Kim Taehyung.” You held his face with your one hand and pursed his lips like a fish.

“G-gewd.” He sputtered out. His drool smeared into your hand.

You wrapped your legs around Taehyung’s waist as he got ready to stand up. “Be careful grandpa.” 

Taehyung rolled his eyes, yes he was getting old but he wasn’t that old yet. Just to prove to you how strong he was, he got up, tossed you up slightly with his hold on your ass. He gave them a nice squeeze, which earned him a squeal.

Taehyung thought he was in for a treat, but as soon as his back hit the bed, you started whining for dick. Again. 

“You are LITERALLY the hottest man I have ever seen.” You clawed at his biceps.

“Yeah, butter me up.” Taehyung smirked. You could do some foreplay, but there was no point when he made you squirt every drop of essence. 

“No! I am not buttering you up. I am just telling my scientific observation.” When you pulled his shirt up, your mouth watered just like the first time. He was exciting every single time.

Taehyung rested against your pillows as you pulled his sweatpants off too. He chuckled when your eyes went hazy as your core hit his hardness. He was your sweet drug and you were his. “A-and what I say is the l-law…”

“Is that so?” He grabbed your chin so he wouldn’t lose a second of your pleasure. You let him hold your head as you hummed. “Who made you the president?” Taehyung asked.

Your hands piteously grabbed his chest. Your grinds were enough to calm you down. His hardness glided between your folds as you dropped your head back to feel every bit of skin.

“You messy girl. Look what have you done?” Tae scolded you as your cream smeared all over his shaft and made him leak out precum onto his stomach. 

When you looked where you met him, you saw your lips gliding against his length smoothly. Your excuse of thin panties was useless as Taehyung pulled them to the side. A cute flinch hit you every time Taehyung’s head hit your clit. Your mind was too busy to answer him as Taehyung noticed. You were long gone. 

“Tae…” You murmured, now you were gripping his bicep and his other free hand as he supported your moves. 

“Yeah, baby?” He quietly asked. 

“Top me.” You looked at him with begging eyes, almost forcing tears to your eyes once again.

Taehyung closed his eyes as he dropped his face to the side. His face was adorned with a bashy smile. You kissed the side of his throat, “Please, baby. I really, really need you. You fuck better than I do. You know I have weak thighs.” 

Taehyung’s smile only grew bigger, “I fucking knew it.” He said in a pleased tone. 

You realised how close you were to crying when your runny nose made an appearance. “W-what did you know?” 

Taehyung wrapped his arms around you and in one swift motion, he rolled you under him. “That you would be a fucking pillow princess. Again.” 

You gasped, “I– You said everything I want!” Your voice wavered. 

Taehyung kissed your forehead, “Yes, my princess.” He took his place between your thighs. His view was somewhat obstructed by your panties. His knees dug inside the mattress as his torso hovered over you. 

Your hips bucked up to him at the sweet pet name. You held his pretty waist and tried desperately to hump him. 

Taehyung was adorned by your eagerness. He was also very much accustomed to your cute antics. He needed to fuck your brains out, or else he would have you begging him all weekend. No need to lie, he loved both of the options.

“You need to be fucked, princess?” He rubbed his nose down your neck. His warm breath was tickling all of your senses. 

“Yes! If you don’t, I think I’ll explode.” Your desperation further amused Taehyung. His wet tongue swiped against your chest, just above your breasts. 

“We’ll see if you explode, then…” Taehyung murmured against your skin. His spit-covered lips kissed the whole of your neck before aiming for your breasts. His hands easily grabbed one with a firm touch. 

“Tae…” You called his name as Taehyung suckled your nipples. The image was so intoxicating, you couldn't help but moan, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. Taehyung's eyes flicked up to meet yours, a smirk playing on his lips as he lavished attention on your breasts, his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples.

His other hand traced a path down your body, caressing your sides, your hips, before finally dipping between your thighs. 

And you had the audacity to whine. 

“I just fucked the shit out of you and you still shiever when I touch this little mound.” Taehyung groaned. His hand cupped your core harshly.

“I can’t help it.” You hiccuped when he circled your clit. The cotton of your panties burnt your skin.

Taehyung mimicked your pout. He was so adorable and hot and sexy and attractive…

Your train of thought was interrupted when his fingers deftly slid under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them aside. You shivered as the cool air brushed against your exposed skin, your body arching instinctively toward him.

Taehyung's eyes, dark and filled with a mix of lust and affection, met your core. When he fingered you earlier this night, he couldn’t see your delicious cunt, so he needed to take his well-earned dessert. 

He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. Your arms immediately wrapped around his head, locking him into the kiss. Taehyung gladly kissed you back, and let you play with his tongue. 

When he realised you were out of breath, he let you pull his hair, but a string of spit connected your lips. 

"Out of br–" Before Taehyung could finish asking, you whined.

"Spit into my mouth, Tae..."

His eyes darkened with desire at your request. He growled a dirty curse before his teeth caught your bottom lip. “Pwease…” you whined under him, your plea dripping with desperation.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. “Beg me.” His lower body pressed into yours, his hand grabbing your breast with a firm squeeze. His voice was commanding, filled with authority as he leaned closer.

Your voice caught in your throat, your breath hitching from the intensity of the moment. “P-please…” you stammered, your need palpable.

“Not good enough,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly. “I want to hear you beg, baby. Show me how much you want it.”

You took a deep breath, your entire body trembling with need. “Please, Taehyung, please spit into my mouth. I need it. I need you,” you begged, your voice finally finding the right note of desperation.

A satisfied smirk played on his lips. “Good girl,” he praised. “I love it when you’re so needy for me.”

He moved closer, his hand moving to your jaw, holding it firmly as he hovered over your lips. The anticipation was almost too much to bear as you watched him, your eyes wide and pleading.

“Open wide,” he commanded, his voice low and gravelly. You obeyed instantly, your mouth opening as you looked up at him with a mixture of need and submission.

“Such a dirty girl,” he murmured, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. “And all mine.” He let a string of spit fall from his mouth into yours, the act raw and primal. You moaned, closing your eyes as you savoured the sensation, your body responding to the dominance he exuded.

“Does my baby like that?” he asked, his tone both teasing and possessive. “Do you like it when I take control?”

“Yes, Tae,” you breathed, your voice trembling. “I love it. I love you.”

“Good,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. “Because I’m not done with you yet. I’m going to make you beg for me again and again.”

You shivered at his words, your body aching for more of his touch, more of his dominance. “Please, Taehyung, don’t stop,” you pleaded, your hands gripping his shoulders.

“I won’t, baby,” he promised, his voice a low rumble. “I’m going to give you everything you want. Just keep begging for me.”

“Yes, Taehyung, please,” you whimpered, your need for him growing with every passing second. “I need you. I need you so much.”

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. 

“Please, Taehyung, please,” you repeated, your voice a desperate plea.

With a smirk, Taehyung leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. The intensity of the moment consumed you, and you knew that with Taehyung, you would always be begging for more.

Taehyung got a hold of his dick and pointed his head right below your clit. Your warm skin and the sacred skin contact made his insides liquid. 

Your back bucked with a pathetic moan.

Taehyung’s large palm firmly hit against your tit. “ Stop crying. I’ll feed you dick now. 

His words sent a thrill through you as his hand soothed the skin of your chest. His free hand was wrapped around his cock deliciously. He stood tall and hard between your legs and only caused your mouth to water.

His words sent a thrill through you as his hand soothed the stinging skin of your chest. His free hand was wrapped around his cock deliciously. He stood tall and hard between your legs, causing your mouth to water with anticipation. The way he handled himself, every move deliberate and commanding, only heightened your desire.

He smirked, watching your reaction, and slowly dragged his length along your folds, teasing you. “You want it that bad, don’t you?” he taunted, his voice a low, seductive growl.

“Yes, please, Taehyung,” you whimpered, your hips lifting towards him, desperate for more.

“Pathetic,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he continued to tease you, rubbing his tip against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “So needy and desperate. Look at you, so ready to be filled.”

You could feel yourself getting wetter, the anticipation almost unbearable. “Please, Taehyung, I need it,” you begged, your voice trembling with want.

With a smug grin, Taehyung finally gave in, sliding himself into you with one smooth motion, filling you completely. You gasped, clutching at his arms, nails digging into his skin as he set a steady, relentless pace.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” he praised, his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of lust and admiration. “Such a good girl.”

His words made you shiver, adding to the intense pleasure building inside you. “More, Taehyung, please,” you pleaded, your body moving with his, matching his rhythm.

“Greedy little thing,” he growled, increasing his pace, driving deeper with each thrust. “You can’t get enough, can you? Always wanting more.”

You could only moan in response, your mind lost in the overwhelming sensations. His harsh grip on your hips, the way he stretched you, filled you—it was everything you needed and more.

You sputtered. Taehyung was unclear about what you were saying. 

“I can’t hear you, baby.” His voice was rough as he continued to pound you even harder. “Got a huge dick in your tummy?” He laughed as you grabbed his forearms. 

Taking a deep breath, you summoned your courage. "C-choke me..." you stammered. His thrusts slowed down as he processed your words. You repeated yourself, more firmly this time, "I want your hand around my neck. Please... Give me your hand."

A dark, lustful look crossed Taehyung's face. His grip on your hips tightened as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You want me to choke you, baby?" he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you can handle that?"

“Yes, please,” you whispered, your eyes pleading.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “Desperate little slut,” he murmured, his hand slowly travelling up to your neck. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t apply any pressure—just let his hand rest there, a promise of control.

You gasped, the anticipation almost too much to bear. Your core frantically squeezed around him. 

Taehyung chuckled darkly. “You love being my doll, don’t you?” He put pressure on your neck for only a moment. Your core was flooded with juice as your breath was hindered for only a second.

“Yeah… I’m your–s-s.” You forced out. Your legs were sore, your core was begging to find release. 

“Good girl,” he praised, his hand back to being loose. When he noticed your frustration, he changed the tempo. Rather than going shallow but fast, he pushed himself further in with a slow tempo. 

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.  “You’re mine, understand? Only mine.”

You sniffed, pleasure started to become too much. “Yeah… Taehyung…” You weakly moaned his name. If he didn’t stop, you could cum, very soon.

Sensing your impending climax, Taehyung’s eyes gleamed with a mix of possessiveness and delight. “So close, baby? You gonna cum for me?” he whispered, his voice dripping with dark allure.

“Yes… so close,” you whimpered, your body arching into his, craving every inch of contact. You held on to his arm on your neck for emotional support.

“Not yet,” he growled softly, his hand on your neck tightening slightly as his thrusts slowed down even more. “I want to feel you completely, every part of you.”

Then, to your utter frustration, Taehyung stopped moving, staying buried deep inside you. The sudden stillness sent a shiver through your entire body. Only your fast heartbeat and his deep breaths filled your ears. 

He was still in you, planted as far as he could go. "Taehyung, please," you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.

He tsked, “You can’t even wait a second, can you?” 

Your hips bucked against him involuntarily,  and you whimpered, tears of frustration gathering in your eyes.

“Aww… Babygirl doesn’t like being teased.” 

Your body responded immediately, your muscles tightening around him, your moans growing louder. "Oh god, Taehyung... yes!" you cried out, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

“I’ll– I will cum now… Please, TaeTae…” You screamed. With a deep long chuckle from the hot man above you, you reached the peak of your orgasm.

Your climax hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you in a wave of pure ecstasy. Your body convulsed, your moans turning into a high-pitched cry as you clung to him, your nails digging into his back.

He continued to pound into you, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. "There you go… Such a good girl to cum for me, baby. No, no, don’t stop. I want to feel you cum all over my cock properly." He demanded, his voice thick with desire.

Taehyung groaned, the sight and feel of your climax pushing him over the edge. He buried himself deep inside you, his own release washing over him, mingling with yours in a blissful symphony of pleasure.

As you both came down from the high, he loosened his grip on your neck, his hand moving to gently caress your cheek. “You did so well, baby,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “So perfect.”

He tsked, “You can’t even wait a second, can you?”

Your hips bucked against him involuntarily, and you whimpered, tears of frustration gathering in your eyes.

“Aww… Babygirl doesn’t like being teased,” he mocked, a cruel smirk curling on his lips. “Pathetic little thing, so desperate for my cock.”

You squirmed beneath him, trying to create any friction to ease the intense need burning inside you. “Please, Taehyung,” you begged, your voice cracking. “I need you.”

His grip on your neck tightened, making you gasp. “You think you can make demands?” he sneered. “You’ll take what I give you and be grateful.”

“Please,” you whimpered, your hands clutching at his arms. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“You’re going to have to,” he growled, his hips still not moving. 

When your bottom lip pursed, his hunger awakened. He leaned down closer to you, leaving your neck free. 

“Oh, babygirl…” He whimpered against your chin and took a bite of your bottom lip. It was soft between his teeth. With a slight pressure, he could taste your skin. Instead, he licked on them. Your mouth immediately fell open for the intrusion as Taehyung pushed his tongue in. 

While you played a tug war with his tongue, your sporadic clenches on him continued. Despite not being actively fucked, you were getting tighter and tighter around him. 

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction at your desperation. "Naughty girl," he sneered when your hands travelled down his back to push his hips deeper.

He retracted his wet appendage from your mouth. Still hovering over you, he murmured, “What are we going to do to these grabby hands?” He asked with mock worry.

Without letting you speak up–not that you had any capacity, Taehyung made a decision. 

A decision that grew you wetter. 

He grabbed both of your wrists and crossed them over your head. A position that you loved and got you to orgasm promptly.

“Is it too much, babygirl?” He asked as his hand covered your wrists. 

You shook your head no, “It’s perfect.” 

“Hmm?” Taehyung set a gentle pace as a start. He eased you back into pleasure. With him being slightly leaned towards you, he could go in deeper.

“Tae…” Your body rolled every time he brushed against your sweet spot. Beautiful shivers washed over your body shook beneath him. 

“Yeah, baby? You like it?” Taehyung focused on how your lips curled into an “o” shape. “Is this a good spot?” He gave a stronger stroke.

“T-the best!” You squealed. 

“It’s gonna make you cum, baby?” Your eyes opened big when Taehyung asked you. You looked at him confused as if you had forgotten about your orgasm. 

“Mhmm, baby?” Taehyung further egged as his hips steadily worked.

You couldn’t answer either of his questions but a cute moan was all the answer Taehyung needed. 

“Yeah, baby? You like it?” Taehyung focused on how your lips curled into an “o” shape. “Is this a good spot?” He gave a stronger stroke.

“T-the best!” you squealed, your voice trembling with pleasure.

“Yeah? So why don’t you cum on my dick to show?”

Without further hesitation, he thrust into you a bit faster, filling you completely in one go and pulling out just to overstimulate that heavenly spot.

The sensation was overwhelming, slightly painful as your body arched off the bed despite his body on you. 

“Baby…” You sighed as your hands tugged on his. The pleasure was immaculate. 

Taehyung waited a few seconds, “Let me see it.” 

You opened your eyes to see Taehyung perfectly standing between your legs, completely inside of you. “I’ll–” You said as your core squeezed him.

“It’s gonna make you cum, baby?” Taehyung asked, his eyes locked onto yours. Your eyes opened wide in surprise, momentarily forgetting about your impending orgasm.

“Mhmm, baby?” Taehyung egged on further, his hips steadily working, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you.

You couldn’t answer either of his questions, but a cute moan was all the answer Taehyung needed. He smirked, watching the way your body responded to him, the way you squirmed and gasped beneath him.

“Cum for me, princess,” he murmured, his voice a seductive growl. “I want to see you fall apart.”

His words were the final push you needed. Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as the orgasm ripped through you. Your vision blurred, and you cried out, your back arching off the bed as you came hard around him.

Taehyung watched you intently, his gaze filled with a mix of awe and satisfaction. “That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his own voice thick with pleasure. “You look so beautiful when you cum.”

Your body trembled, the aftershocks of your orgasm making you shiver. Taehyung continued to thrust gently, riding out your release, his eyes never leaving your face.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, his hands caressing your sides soothingly. 

“I love you so much, Taehyung,” you whispered, your voice filled with genuine affection as he held you close. Your sweat was cooling off, heart beating so frantically against your ribs.

Taehyung paused for a moment, his eyes widening slightly in surprise at your heartfelt confession. 

“So so much…” You added. 

“Is it post-nut talking?” Taehyung asked playfully, his voice laced with amusement and a hint of disbelief.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at his unexpected response. “No, I want more…” You cried. Both for your own orgasm and for his too. 

“Fucking brat.” Taehyung cursed in disbelief. You knew how to push his buttons. He murmured against your skin. “I can’t wait to make you mine again and again so I can make your cry out those words.”

His threat sounded heaven to your ears. “Please, Taehyung….”

Taehyung’s hips found their pace back. It was moderately fast, but the lewd squelching noises were now almost too loud. “Dirty girl.” Taehyung commented a few times after a particularly loud one. 

“Please faster.” You asked when you felt comfortable. And Taehyung immediately obliged as if he was just waiting for you to ask. 

Taehyung immediately obliged, increasing the tempo of his thrusts with a primal need that matched your own urgency.

The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building higher and higher until you could hardly think straight. Taehyung’s hands roamed over your skin, his touch igniting flames of desire everywhere he caressed.

“Ugh, ugh, Taehyung…” You moaned his name out. Your hands squeezed his shoulders. “I-I changed my mind. Slow! Slow!” 

Taehyung laughed through his nose as he followed your request once again. “Ah, You are such a pampered princess! Did it hurt, baby?”

He cooed your hips as you mumbled. “Only a bit…But it feels good when… when you are deep.” 

“Do you enjoy it when I am this deep?” He repeated as he scooted towards you more, plunging his dick deeper than before. You sighed when he filled you to the brim. Even taking a breath was enough for you to have him bump into your sensitive spots.

“Can you feel it?” You held Taehyung’s wrist and placed his hand on your stomach. When Taehyung slightly moved following your touch, his cock again hit your cervix again. 

“Fuck!” You couldn’t help yourself. 

“What’s wrong baby?” Taehyung innocently asked as he moved his hips again.

You answered Taehyung with only your moans. His head continued to give sweet kisses to your cervix and electrify your entire body. 

Your orgasm was back already with all of its glory. 

“You like it when I hit your cervix, baby?” Taehyung whispered, his hands simultaneously pressing your tummy.

Before you could answer, he snapped his hips a bit more forcefully to knock out any words that could come out. 

“Of course you do… You love anything I do to you, right?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded, “I– I love y-you…” You repeated. The fact needed to get inside of his pretty head.

Your words seemed to fuel Taehyung as he planted his hands on the side of your head and started snapping his hips at a fast pace. Now, you knew you had no choice but cum. 

Pleasure was hot and messy. You felt impossibly wet. “I’ll cum! I will–” 

It was pointless to warn him. 

“Y/N, you are gonna open your eyes and cum like my little slut.” Taehyung ordered. His voice was thick with desire, his words sending a thrill through you. 

You opened your eyes to find Taehyung completely spent, his features illuminated by a deep desire to rock your world. His eyes, dark and intense, were fixed on you with a mixture of tenderness and desire. His jawline, sharp and defined, was accentuated by the way he clenched his teeth. Sweat glistened on his forehead, dampening his tousled hair that fell in waves over his forehead.

Taehyung's chest rose and fell rapidly. The veins on his neck and biceps down to his hands were showing. His muscles were strained and on a mission to get you high. His skin was flushed with exertion, a rosy hue spreading across his cheeks and down his neck. 

When your eyes found his, you felt a river form in between your legs. It was impossible to get any wetter and Taehyung still managed to drive you insane. “S-so hot…” You slurred.

To answer you, he thrust harder, deeper, his movements becoming more forceful. Pleasure surged through you as Taehyung drove you towards another peak of ecstasy, his touch pushing you beyond the limits of rational thought.

“C-cum w-ith me-e.” You screeched.

Your orgasm hit you like a brick wall. It shook your entire body and soul in pure ecstasy. Your mind went through hundreds of emotions as your moans continued to entertain Taehyung. 

As you swam through the mind-blowing high, Taehyung stayed inside you. Your senses were heightened, every touch, every sound, every sensation magnified. Watching you cum made Taehyung realise how his own high was palpable. He could cum if he didn’t pull it out. But if he did pull himself out, he would ruin your orgasm. 

The decision was easy. 

“Ugh, baby…” Taehyung lunged over you. Your body melted into the bed but you welcomed him with a hug. 

A messy kiss stained Taehyung’s cheek as he whispered. “Do you want me to cum inside?” 

You screamed. “Fuck yes!” 

With your approval, it took him only three thrusts to empty himself inside you. The long, throaty growl he let out was a feast to your ears as he painted your inside. 

“Taehyung…” Your nails dug into his skin painfully as you pressed him impossibly closer to you. 

With a deep breath, Taehyung rolled off of you. He was scared to crush you under his weight. But when his back hit your bed, he felt you lay on him, your tit pressed into his pec. Taehyung sighed, pleased. “I love you, Taehyung.” You whispered into his ear. 

"I love you even more." he murmured, his voice a tender caress. 

You sighed as you tangled yourself into his embrace. He kissed your forehead and asked your half-asleep figure. “Did you have enough, baby?” 

You pressed a kiss to his collarbone, “Only for tonight. You should rest for the morning.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You should prepare yourself to ride my face.” 

“Hmm, sure sure. Sleep now.” You kissed his collarbone again and nuzzled your face to his naked skin.

“Your breast is touching my ribs.” He said giggly. 

“Yeah? Your cum is dripping out of me.” 

“Do you want me to clean you?” He worriedly asked.

“If you move Taehyung… If you move, I will tape myself to you for the rest of your life and you will have to pee in front of me forever.” You squeezed yourself in as he brushed your hair out of his face.

“Well, you are the freak that can’t pee in front of me. So, I am fine.” Taehyung shrugged. 

“I am the freak because I don’t want you to see me pee? How does it make sense?” You weren’t as comfortable as he was at talking about poops, burps and pees with him. Despite knowing him for years and seeing each other in every compromised position, you needed Taehyung to think you didn’t do any of the things. 

Taehyung was quite the opposite. 

“Yeah, you begged me to spit inside your mouth so you're a freak.” He shrugged his shoulders which made your head move on his pecs. 

You held his face again, puckered his lips and licked them. “I am your very sleepy freak then. Goodnight, darling.” 

Taehyung was going to argue more but you calling him darling caught him off guard. With a satisfied snicker, he lay under you, his arms wrapping around you possessively. You could feel the contentment radiating from him as he settled into the bed, pulling you close so your bodies were pressed together.

“Goodnight, darling.” He repeated with a kiss on your head. He felt your body go stiff only momentarily before nuzzling yourself to him like a kitten. 

The night's sleep was good. Taehyung had you cuddling with him as long as you wanted. 

After, maybe thirty minutes later, Taehyung felt you get up. He heard the soft patter of your feet on the floor as you made your way to the bathroom, the faint sound of the toilet lid closing, and then the gentle rush of water as you cleaned yourself. But soon, you joined him back in the same exact position. Taehyung felt your faint kisses on his cheeks and fell back to sleep. Close to sunrise, he felt you slip off him because it was getting warmer, but you continued to hold his hand and peck his long fingers as he drifted on and off to sleep.

The slight booze and huge amount of physical exertion knocked two of you good as the deep, restful slumber awaited.

————

masterlist | part1 rush: concert | part2 rush: club | part3: rush:bed recommendation: i’m mad & you’re mine |

[lookismfanfics]

(Y/N) uses her and Gun’s engagement party as a last ditch effort to hook up with Goo

𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧... 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠

Goo x Reader x Gun

Notes: I did an accidentally changed the request a little. Writing things. Sigh. It’s pitifully short. I kind of hate it.

Warnings: Implied smut? Angst? Fluff ? (Idk lol) UNEDITED.

It was so hot in the penthouse.

Every corner you turned you bumped shoulders with yet another guest. Hands crawled to grip the small of your back; unwelcome hugs came from left and right. More champagne was shoved into your hand. Fingers caressed the hair you had worked on all day. Gun had a wide variety of friends… surprisingly enough.

You’re stumbled towards one of the plush seats, overwhelmed by the attention. That plastic smile on your face could only last so long. Your body practically melded with the chair cushioning. You closed your eyes.

There was still lots of noise. Voices buzzed in your ear like a hornet’s nest. Glass clinked and clattered. The harmony of a European song faintly echoed throughout the room. Footsteps. There were lots of footsteps.

Cologne.

You recognized some cologne. Opening your bleary eyes, you lifted your head. And there he was.

Not your fiancé, though. Gun would be caught dead with a bleach like that. The cologne was too glamorous for him, too. Too much lemon in the scent. Gun wasn’t that handsome, either.

“I thought you weren’t coming…” you mumbled, staring up at him with round eyes.

“Aw~ you’re not disappointed? Are you?”

You snorted, sitting more upright in your chair and facing Goo fully. The blush you had caked on your cheeks that night didn’t compare to the natural heat you felt burning your face. Your lips curved into a smile.

“No. Does Gun know you’re here-“

Goo rounded the chair and knelt beside you. Those long, slender fingers of his wrapped around your wrist and beckoned it forward. His eyes narrowed and his brows knit together. He made a face you had seen plenty of times- he was scrutinizing.

His lips puckered. “Who chose your engagement ring?”

“My fiancé?” You retorted. You watched the muscle in his jaw twitch, his dark eyes flickering up to meet yours. His fingers traced over your new and shiny ring, brushing over the diamonds and rubbing on the band.

Goo let out a heavy, somewhat obnoxious sigh, “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it, bitch. You’re not the one wearing it,” you countered.

Goo clenched his jaw. The knit in his brow released a little, but he began pouting again. You reached out your right hand and brushed back some of his stray strands of hair. You cusped his ear.

There was still talking in the background. The room still felt hot and crowded. The guest’s laughter was turning from polite to rowdy with the more drinks they had. Despite the large group of people in that big room, you and Goo were practically alone.

Goo broke his eye contact with you. Suddenly the windowsill was super interesting, apparently, because he stared at it long and hard. You saw that pout on his lips melt away; he was just frowning now. His gaze was blank. The usual spark of energy in his movements had extinguished.

“Goo…” you began hesitantly. He leaned into your hand, which had slowly shifted from the side of his head down to his cheek. “Gun told you not to come. Didn’t he?”

“Only because he’s a jealous bastard,” Goo replied. His eyes met yours again, and a smirk twitched on his lips.

You could stare at that mouth of his for ages. His lips always looked so supple and pretty. There was no better way to describe it. His perfect teeth and perfect smile would be the death of you.

“(Y/N), where is your… fiancé? Mm?”

“I don't know. I don’t know anything anymore. I don’t think any of my friends showed up to this engagement party- so I don’t know anyone that’s here either.”

Goo’s hand had let go of your wrist. It rested comfortably on your lap, gently gripping your thigh. Now, you glanced around the room nervously. You tried pushing his hand away, suddenly hyper-aware of how many people could be watching.

Goo wasn’t dumb. He knew what you were doing. He grabbed your hand again, feeling for the engagement ring. There was that bitter look on his face, again. He didn’t know why you said yes. Neither did you.

“Is the guest bedroom off limits to the other guests?” Goo asked in a honeyed voice.

You narrowed your eyes at him. The ring in your finger was slipping off ever so slightly. A look of scorn overtook your face.

“You better know what you’re doing, Kim Jongoo.”

“Believe me, (Y/N)! This’ll make us both feel much better.”

You pushed through the group of guests that crowded all around you. Hands no longer clawed at your dress and hair now that you were walking with a purpose. You felt warmth welling in the pit of your stomach, maybe even a little lower.

You opened the door for Goo to slip in, and promptly locked it behind yourself.

Alone, you turned to face Goo. His hands were shoved in his pockets, a smirk tainted his lips, and he leaned back comfortably. You walked up and yanked him by the tie, pulling him over to the bedside. “You better listen to me, Kim. If I tell you to stop you have to.”

“Your dialogue cringier than the Fifty Shades of Gray script, (N/N)~”

Goo’s zipper buzzed as you pulled it down. His hands abandoned his pockets and occupied the inside of your dress.

Things got very hot in the penthouse after that.

Your head laid on his chest. The hair you had spent hours on was now sweaty and ruined. You slid your leg under one of Goo’s, so that you were squeezing it with both of your thighs. Your skin was still damp. It was a little sticky when the two of you touched. Goo’s hand snaked around your shoulders and entangled in your hair.

“Where did put my ring?” You whispered into his chest.

Goo let out a groan of annoyance. “It’s so ugly…!”

“Goo. I’m serious.”

“Ugh. It’s on the table.”

You let out a sigh of relief. For a few moments there was silence. You could faintly hear the noises of the crowd dying down. No one seemed to notice the missing hostess. You lamented that that was probably the new norm. Goo squeezed you a little tighter to him. He rubbed his thumb against the grooves of your arm. His touch was delicate and careful, which was a bit uncharacteristic. He has been abnormally serious this evening. There usually wasn’t a serious bone in his body.

He planted a kiss against the crown of your head. What followed was an obnoxious sigh.

“That thing is so ugly and boring. I would’ve gotten you a ring with a lot more bling,” Goo mused.

“Wouldn’t that look kind of gaudy?” You asked. You brushed your lips against his skin, feathering a kiss against his collarbone.

Goo let out an offended scoff.

Outside the music had begun to fade. You imagined some of the somber guests were filing away and going home. The frequent clattering of glasses had died down now. You peered up at Goo. You had to refrain from chuckling; he looked funny from your angle.

“You should probably go,” you whispered. “Gun will start looking for me pretty soon.”

Goo grunted. He looked down at you and squinted. “Can’t I just enjoy the moment a little longer?”

“No~ you need to go. I’ll help you find your clothes…”

The door clicked, creaked, and swung open. Your fiancé was scowling.

“Ohh- hey Gun~”

End

I’m back! (Momentarily lol)

Writers block sucks and as you can see- I still have it! :)

[jellyveesh]

oh, paw-lease!

fandom ## hazbin hotel (dog-sinner reader)

characters ## charlie morningstar, vaggie, alastor, angel-dust, husker, lucifer morningstar

prompt ## it would seem a new sinner has arrived at the hotel, sporting a set of bouncy ears and an eagerly swaying tail. how will this new canine companion fit into the dynamics of the hazbin hotel?

contains ## SHOW SPOILERS, gender-neutral reader, canon-typical character behaviours/habits, reader is annoyingly bubbly but in a puppy-dog way, reader is gen z, no one in this show is morally good (obviously), NO ROMANCE, autistic-coded lucifer, fan theories are used, stereotypical 'dog' characteristics, brief mention of valentino (cringe)

masterlist part two potential - open to writing for more characters

when you first arrived at the hotel, you were pretty much fresh-meat in hell, and definitely of a different generational variety to the other residents (much to their confusion and mutual horror).

charlie welcomes you to the hotel with open arms and a huge smile - and everyone is blinded by the two balls of sunshine chatting happily in the doorway. vaggie convinces her to let you in, and you settle into the hotel extremely well.

you get along well with everyone... well, nearly everyone!

CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR

for obvious reasons, charlie adores you - your bubbly nature sharply contrasts the mellowed nature of husker, the over-the-top nature of nifty and the sneakiness that alastor maintains

but charlie isn't stupid and she obviously knows you're down here for one sinful reason or another, so she doesn't think you're harmless...

no matter how much that fluffy tail thumps against the floor, YOU ARE NOT HARMLESS

she enjoys using you as the focus point of redemption exercises - mainly because most of the residents like/are indifferent to you, and you just like everyone

planned a group fetch session one time, ended up with you passed out in the entryway the second they entered the hotel

you are her therapy dog sinner at this point, whenever she feels like she's bordering a panic attack you just poof magically appear and comfort her - using some very interesting jokes (gen z humour is honestly more traumatising than comforting, but it works in charlie's case), and allowing her to play with your tail and ears.

bought you tons of squeaky toys...

overall, is extremely happy you arrived at the hotel, and wouldn't change you for the world

VAGGIE

vaggie enjoys your presence - especially considering you seem to be about as sane as you can be, considering you're in hell and you're a sinner

like, she can have an intelligent conversation with you and then NOT feel the sudden urge to smash her head into the nearest wall (*cough* alastor *cough*)

you're her excuse to get out of the hotel, even if it's for five minutes

"i need to walk the dog" type excuse - you go along with it, because like... who doesn't enjoy walks?

despite you being a sinner, you have a lot of dog features - it's honestly hard to tell you were ever even human once upon a time, under all that fluff and fur - and you LOVE those shitty little squeaky dog toys

vaggie hates those squeaky dog toys

definitely hides them around the hotel so you can't find them

too bad you've got a sensitive sniffer and find them everytime

you stayed outside hers and charlie's room the first time she hid them, obnoxiously squeaking the toy just to be petty and kept her awake

now you just enjoy it looking for the toys, it's like a game

overall, vaggie enjoys your company - you can be very energetic and sometimes overwhelming, but you can be equally as soft and silent

she thinks she wouldn't mind you hanging around for a little while longer

ALASTOR

alastor can't stand you.

you're a dog, he HATES dogs - for many obvious reasons, of course

not that you've explicitly done anything to him, so he tolerates you - just keep an adequate distance between the two of you, and you'll be just peachy

overtime, you become accustomed to the fact that alastor will probably never like you - and you definitively become softer around him in order to accommodate to his needs

you don't necessarily know WHY he doesn't like you, but the way his eyes shift tell you that he's uncomfortable

you soften your tone of voice, make all of your movements extremely predictable and slow, and make sure to keep your pesky tail in check

overtime, this 'submissive' tactic (it's not really, but it's better to say that than to say alastor is fearful of this cheery little puppy) begins to break down alastor's carefully crafted walls

the first breakthrough was when alastor invited you to go to the library with him - you had to physically hold your tail down as it began wagging excitedly

you guys sat in the library for hours, mere inches apart from each other - your tail softly thumping against the couch, and the soft static of alastor's radio filling the air as you both read your respective books

you guys cook together (more like he cooks and you just watch excitedly, having no thoughts behind those beady puppy-dog eyes) - you have so many questions, and he answers each one with endless patience, and tells you you're a 'good dog' whenever you hand him a kitchen tool he needs

you love being called a good dog :3

overall, he's not used to you yet - but he's getting there

complete avoidance has turned into greetings, light touches here and there, and invitations to join him in his endeavours

i'd say that's a job well done

ANGEL DUST

angel had a temporary urge to taint your giddiness - it didn't last long, but long enough that the guilt of it eats him alive most days

but he adores you, and you quickly become fast friends - you act as an escape from his job, your personality so contrasting from his day-to-day

angel buys you tons of cute outfits, most of which contain chokers or pendants after you expressed that you used to wear them when you were alive - and wearing them brings you a strange sense of comfort

definitely got you a charm that said 'if lost, call angel dust xxx-xxx' and hooked it onto a little doggy collar as a gag gift

you still wore it though, and he just became absolute putty at the way your tail wagged

angel sometimes wakes up to you curled up at his side, with fat nuggets mirroring you on his other side - he doesn't mind, he actually loves the fact that he's your first comfort-call

no one snitch, but he wraps all of his arms around you and your tail thumps softly against the comforter in your sleep

in regards to angel's job, you're extremely understanding - hell is hell, and people get by in different ways

but you are FIERCELY protective of your newly found friend

in the episode where angel stands up to valentino for nifty's sake, you are trembling at husker's side - not out of fear, but out of pure anger and the desire to protect your own

however, when valentino lays hands on your precious friend? you're between them in seconds, teeth bared, ears flat against your scalp and low rumbling growls coming from your mouth

you make it very apparent you are no bark and all bite when valentino tries to bypass you to approach angel, snapping your jaws at him, and watch with mixed triumph and disgust as the moth-man scoffs and turns away

as soon as valentino is no longer in 'threat' distance, you turn to help angel to his feet - no words needed, and simply pressed your cold snout to his cheek as you felt his trembling hands in yours

from that day onwards, you pick angel up from work everyday without fail - even if it means sprinting across pentagram city just to get there on time

your consistent presence discourages valentino from keeping angel overnight, which fills you with pride - at least you rattled the fugly moth during your last encounter

overall, you're best friends - angel would burn the world for you, and you'd do the same for him, and that mutual respect for one another makes you a force to be reckoned with

you'd be surprised at how downright dirty the 'innocent' little pup could get when with the spider

HUSKER

frenemies through and through - but it's more like one-sided frenemies, because you simply have no enemies (except valentino. fuck you valentino.)

you and husker were not close AT ALL when you first arrived at the hotel, and instead opted for the stereotypical dog-cat relationship... a relationship built on pure contempt just for each others species, and spent a good portion of the first few days growling and hissing at one another

so, how did you two become fast friends considering your clear hate?

you.

you did the one thing that proved to husker you understood how cats functioned...

you brought him a mouse!

a dead one. a dead hell mouse.

now, to everyone else in the hotel, the display was disgusting - and several of them scrambled away from the bar with shrill screams - but, to husker, it was a sign of peace

and, from that point onwards, you became friends

that's literally it

husker wouldn't mention it to anyone, but he is an absolute cuddle bug - and having you, someone with no regard for personal space, around and jumping into hugs actually soothed his stolen soul

oftentimes, you two are found comfortably lounging on the couch - limps tangled together (and tails coiled around each others)

the two of you have a habit of falling into your more animalistic urges when it's just the two of you - so mutual grooming is not uncommon, and you've woken up several times to husker's tongue dragging across your head

he definitely pretends it doesn't happen after, but you both know

you make sure to return the favour, much to his distress - considering you just kind of... slobber, everywhere

when you two fight though it's actually vicious - biting, scratching, clawing, etc. absolutely scaring the hell out of everyone

but then after like two minutes you two are like "well, that was fun!"

husker is ultimately more playful in your presence, but he's still grumpy and if he asks you to go away - you will listen, because you understand not everyday is a cuddle day

overall, husker hate-loves you - you're a solid consistent in his day-to-day afterlife now, and he can actively become more relaxed with you around... and whilst that's why he loves you, it's also why he hates you, because you make him weak

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR

lucifer has definitely hyperfixated on several animals during all of his years in heaven and hell - so i have no doubt he hyperfixated on dogs, or some kind of canine, at one point

and you're about as humanoid-ly doggy as it gets, or as humanoid-ly doggy as he's seen

and when you show interest in his hyperfixation on ducks, you instantly become his new favourite sinner at the hotel - although you enjoy ducks simply for dog-related reasons, you also enjoy how happy lucifer seems to get when speaking about them

you make a note to yourself to never harm another duck in your entire afterlife

with lucifer being autistic, and you seemingly having adhd qualities, you perfectly compliment each other

your friendship is the definition of "he asked for no pickles" with a tiny lucifer all teary eyed in the background

after lilith left, lucifer has had difficulty in maintaining his wings - and, much to his displeasure, you walked in on him trying to preen them, and struggling to reach the harder to get places

i mean, he has 6 wings, i wouldn't look after them either

but when you offer to help, he melts - guiding and directing you on what to do and what not to do, smiling adoringly at the look of concentration on your face and the way you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth

as a reward, he preens you in return, expressing his thanks through the subtle gesture

preening is a sign of affection with birds, and i feel he would give into those mannerisms the more he hyperfixates on ducks

overall, lucifer absolutely adores you - and although the goal for the hotel is to redeem sinners, he lowkey hopes you're never redeemed

he'd simply miss you too much

and he definitely treats you like a little kid sometimes (theoretically, you are the youngest, generationally...)

[girldriveroscar]

is this readable or is it like …mentally climbing over boulders …

despite the growing confidence to not totally dread his reflection, lando couldn't transfer any of his esteem into official media appearances. something about the tv cameras seemed to dramatize the slump in his lower back, a sullen posture multiplying into overwhelming defeat. he looked pathetic. desperate. pity-mongering.  his eyes naturally dodge his own likeness, mentally cropping in on charles and oscar. the minuscule rise and fall of oscars chest, his pale cheeks and ears obnoxiously forcing themselves out from the P2 cap. the way he's stationary, only his head tilting to accommodate charles, neck stretched vulnerably as they hold eye contact. the sour taste intensifies with every second oscar's gaze lingers on the other man.  keep making fuck me eyes maybe he'll suck you off right there lando thinks bitterly, his lip raw and burning where he's managed to pull off a strip of dead skin.

[feralbutfluffy]

61: Crowley

Chapter 61 of Too Wise to Woo Peaceably

*****

As Crowley closed the bedroom door with a snap of his fingers, he considered the ethics of “helping” Muriel to sleep. Seemed a bit wrong, in his opinion, but then out of the two of them he’d always been more of a stickler for free will. He turned his attention to where his feet barely grazed Aziraphale’s thigh and he eyed his obnoxiously yellow socks appreciatively...

They really were extremely soft.

“So...” he said, for the sake of breaking the silence.

Aziraphale looked down at the socks, and Crowley couldn’t resist wiggling his toes.

“Really…!” 

Aziraphale sounded as if he had only just barely restrained himself from tutting disapprovingly, and after everything they had been through it made Crowley laugh. He sobered when he realised the angel wasn’t laughing with him; wasn’t even smiling. He was just fiddling with the hem of his jacket, looking nervous.

He decided not to obfuscate. “You look nervous,” he said.

“No,” Aziraphale said, clearly nervous, and Crowley didn't roll his eyes but it was a close thing. “Only… it seems more real with Muriel here.”

A flash of panic stabbed at Crowley. It was a reflex, a remnant of years of careful restraint, a flash of oh fuck he's changed his mind, and close at its heels came the temptation to sink into an immediate and devastating depression.

Of course, he was a demon with rather a lot of experience when it came to temptations, so he managed to mute it long enough to adopt an impressively neutral expression and ask, “Oh? What was it before?”

Aziraphale sat silently looking at his hands, which were laid flat against his thighs as if they couldn’t be trusted without constant supervision. Crowley looked down his nose at the angel and waited a couple of beats before nudging him with his toe.

Nothing.

He nudged him again. 

And again… And again-

Aziraphale frowned in mild irritation as his hand closed over Crowley’s foot, locking it in place.

The sensation was so incredibly foreign that Crowley felt his entire body go lax, his awareness whittled away until it was isolated to the area of his foot now held firmly in the angel’s hand, and when Aziraphale ran his thumb across the top of his foot, it jerked reflexively.

Crowley made a garbled, nonsense sound that he himself couldn’t identify except to say that part of it was a groan, and all of it was embarrassing.

And then Aziraphale was suddenly shoeless and sitting with his leg up on the seat, his eyes dancing with the sort of excitement he usually reserved for the performing arts. Crowley crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his hands into his armpits, his thumbs pressed into the hollows by his shoulders. He stayed entirely still as Aziraphale lifted his heel with one hand and moved his foot alarmingly close to his groin.

Crowley was so focused on the way Aziraphale was worrying his lower lip between his teeth that when both hands wrapped around his foot he was almost surprised-

What the-?

… And then Aziraphale dug his thumbs into the sole of Crowley's foot, and the resulting wave of sensation that had shot up through his leg had almost made him fall off the chair, injuries be damned.

Heat flooded his cheeks.

“So��sensitive…” Aziraphale teased, and Crowley didn’t know whether he wanted to jump out of his skin or melt into the chair. 

Too much, he thought. He would never survive this.

He tried to tug his foot back to safety, but Aziraphale gripped it tight and drew a line from his heel to his toes, and the feeling was overwhelming, and his leg shuddered despite his best efforts.

Aziraphale took hold of the top of his sock, wrapped one hand tight around his ankle, and that was where it 

all...

… went…

…… wrong.

In less time than it took to blink, Crowley was somewhere else entirely. He couldn’t feel his arms, but he knew they were bound behind his back and pulled higher than they should naturally go. Both his shoulders had been dislocated in sharp, intense, starbursts of agony that had faded to a dull pain, and that pain had been overwritten by other, more pressing, more immediate pains. His ankles were held in an iron grip by an angel wearing Aziraphale’s face, and it smiled up at him with polite disinterest as another angel carved a wavy line so deep into his shin that the white of bone shone through. A distant part of himself watched it happen. Oh, it's supposed to be a snake, he thought dimly. Rubbish snake. Thought angels were good at drawing. Aziraphale is good at-

Crowley collapsed back into himself like prey falling from the jaws of a predator, weak and shaken and afraid. He was backed into the armrest, every muscle locked into a state of paralysis borne of pure terror, his eyes fixed on Aziraphale, and he realised the angel looked frightened; he had his hands held out in front of him, his fingers spread as if to calm a wild animal.

Me, Crowley thought numbly. I’m the wild animal.

Aziraphale must have asked him something, because he had the expectant look of someone waiting for a reply. He’d probably asked if everything was alright. Crowley hadn’t even heard him. He tried to find some give in his muscles, some way to manoeuvre around the tightness. He finally managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“Yess. Yes, yes. Sorry. Yesss. I’m fine,” he said, hoping his guess was correct, hating that his words were belied by the hissing he couldn’t control.

“Did I hurt you?” Aziraphale said, and Crowley quickly shook his head.

“Is it… Is it me? Is it the sight of me? Because of the-”

“I don’t know!” It escaped him in a wail of despair, and he tried to think. Was it the sight of him? “It was fine earlier when we were closer! I think it’s… I don’t know.” He shut his eyes and put his head in his hands, tugging at his hair. 

He had this, this - whatever this was - that he had longed for and dreamt of for thousands of years, and it was here, so close he could touch it, and it had been shattered by a sledgehammer of memories that had no place in this room. 

He'd been rescued. They'd defeated The Metatron. They were safe.

And yet here he was, ice-cold adrenaline flooding his veins. He felt as if the memory had ripped a jagged hole in his psyche and now he was picking at the frayed edges, trying to pull them together with trembling fingers. The playful joy and nervous excitement he’d been feeling only moments before had vanished, obliterated by the landmine of a gentle hand around his ankle.

There was a lump in Crowley’s throat and when he spoke, it hurt.

“Sorry, sorry, angel…” he said, and he wasn’t even sure what he was apologising for; the weakness of allowing the memory to take over, maybe. Or the fact that he'd clearly frightened him with his reaction. Or the fact that they wanted this - had finally acknowledged that they wanted this - and he was ruining it for them both.

He couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes.

There was a long silence during which Crowley tried and failed to slow his heart, which felt like it was about to hammer its way right out of his chest and make a break for it.

“Crowley…?”

He looked up.

“Do you think you could trust me?”

What a baffling question. Of course. He always trusted him. Had always trusted him. Even when the trust had been misplaced, still he’d trusted him.

And he trusted him now more than ever.

“Course. That’s not-”

“You found it easier when I was out of sight?”

Crowley nodded, although he wasn’t sure that was the whole truth of it. He didn’t want to talk about the whole truth of it.

Aziraphale slid off his bow tie and tossed it into Crowley’s lap. He picked it up, puzzled, and it wasn't a bow tie; it was a long, wide tartan strip.

“Is this another complicated attempt to communicate using tartan? Because if it is, I’m sorry to say I still haven’t-”

“No, no that’s not it at all!” 

“Oh. Then what-?”

“It’s… for your eyes.”

Crowley stared as a blush crept into Aziraphale’s cheeks.

“My eyes,” he said, drawing out the syllables with careful precision.

“Yes.”

Crowley looked down at the tartan. “Aziraphale, is this supposed to be a blindfold? ”

Aziraphale turned properly pink, and the sight of the angel's discomfiture loosened something in his chest that had been pulled far too tight. 

"I don't-" Crowley stopped, afraid to say the wrong thing. He understood what had spurred the idea, but the idea of being plunged into darkness, the idea of being at the mercy of the unknown, even if he knew to tell himself the unknown was Aziraphale… It squeezed his heart and lungs, leaving him feeling breathless and wrung out.

He stared blindly at the tartan. He knew the angel was looking at him. He could feel it. 

He couldn’t do it.

“It’s alright, Crowley,” Aziraphale’s gentle voice sounded far away, like it was coming from the other side of the room rather than less than a couple of metres away. He sensed movement and looked up to see the angel move closer until he was within arm’s reach. He didn’t try to touch Crowley, he just knelt before him and stared, looking like he might be about to cry, and that was almost worse. Crowley came forward onto his own knees and pressed his forehead to Aziraphale’s, his hands coming up to cup the angel’s face.

They had destroyed enough. He wouldn’t let them destroy this too.

He grounded himself in the solid feeling of Aziraphale's skin against his hands, against his forehead. He leaned against him, his breathing ragged, and the angel’s hands fluttered around his shoulders before alighting like frightened birds. The cold that had poured into every corner of his body, rendering him frozen and numb finally started to dissipate.

“I can’t,” he whispered, and it was a plea for understanding. “I can’t, Aziraphale-” 

The angel was murmuring things against his mouth, soft things, soothing things, and the panicked static in Crowley's head made it hard to focus but slowly it faded and he was able to catch phrases like please tell me how to help you? and I love you, and oh, Crowley, and I just want to make it better…

And he was making it better.

Crowley dragged the fingers of one hand along Aziraphale’s jawline and down his throat, pressing his fingertip to where he could feel a quick, steady heartbeat, and the way Aziraphale shivered, the way he closed his eyes at the touch... It fired up something bright and heavy deep in his body, smelting cold metal into gold ore.

“I can’t be in darkness. I can’t- You can’t-,” he hissed and tried again, “Please don’t restrain me. It…” 

Aziraphale’s hand came up to stroke the back of his head. “It’s alright Crowley,” he said reassuringly. “It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything, we can just sit, and-”

Crowley pulled back, his eyes wide. “What?”

Aziraphale swallowed and blinked uncertainly. “I only mean that it’s all been rather a lot, and you really could probably do with some rest, you know, and I-”

“Angel.”

“... really don’t want to hurt you, Crowley. I don’t want to upset you, I am perfectly happy to just-”

“ Angel .”

“... rest here with you for a while, and then maybe at a later date, when you're-”

“A later date? ” Crowley’s voice was strangled with incredulity.

“... feeling better and well healed and rested then maybe we can circle back-”

Crowley had heard enough. He growled and grabbed Aziraphale by his shirt, pulling him against the back of the chair with him, nudging his nose against his, their lips millimetres apart, Aziraphale panting shallow little breaths against his lips. 

“We will not be waiting for a later date,” he said, and Aziraphale's lips twitched at the outrage in his voice.

“If you’re sure,” the angel said sedately, sounding like he had almost said more but then wisely decided against it. Crowley wanted to know what it was he’d almost said.

Crowley wanted to lick the words right out of his mouth.

He dipped his head, pressed his forehead to Aziraphale’s temple, and kissed his jaw.

“I’m sure,” he said, keeping his voice even with some effort. 

He dragged his lips down further to kiss his neck, and the angel made the most gloriously indecorous sound.

“We could always put a pin in it for now,” Aziraphale managed, sounding hoarse.

Crowley nipped his skin and was rewarded with a whimper. He immediately placed his hot mouth over the sting, soothing it with his tongue, and the angel was trembling, his breath stuttering.

“You know, I really don’t think we could,” said Crowley conversationally into the hollow beneath his ear.

Aziraphale shuddered, his eyes falling closed.

Crowley grinned at the sight.

“Well…” panted Aziraphale, “We can- we can go slowly.”

Crowley undid the top button of Aziraphale’s collar and pushed his chin up in order to drop a kiss in the hollow at the base of his throat.

“Of course,” he hummed agreeably, nuzzling against his throat. "Although your slowly..." he said, dropping a kiss against Aziraphale's collarbone, "...and my slowly..." he dragged his lips across to the other side and dropped another kiss, "...are wildly different interpretations of the word slowly, angel."

He traced a line up to the angel’s ear using his tongue and when he took his earlobe gently between his teeth Aziraphale practically melted against him. Crowley flicked his tongue against it and earned himself a low, needy whine.

Aziraphale was still trying to formulate coherent sentences. “... Important you’re com- Important you’re quite comfortable… ” he said, and Crowley's eyes narrowed.

That wasn't on.

He nudged Aziraphale so that he slumped against the back of the chair and slid one leg across his lap, straddling the angel. He looked into eyes that could easily have been wide with alarm but instead were glittering bright with expectation, pupils blown wide.

“I am-,” he purred, slipping one hand just inside Aziraphale’s collar and sliding it around to the back of his neck, “... extremely comfortable. You?”

He dragged his fingers through the angel's hair with one hand and undid the second button of his shirt with the other, watching his throat bob as he swallowed hard, his lips curling into a smile at the look on Aziraphale’s face. He looked stunned, dazed, barely able to process Crowley's words. 

“Are you comfortable, Aziraphale?” He repeated, brushing a thumb against Aziraphale’s lips and gazing at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Aziraphale groaned low in his throat. Crowley rocked against him once, just to make a point, and Aziraphale bucked and made a noise that was mostly consonants.

"Alright," Crowley said with a rough laugh, "maybe comfortable is the wrong word..." He rocked again, this time so slowly he had to grit his teeth. He wanted- He hadn't words for what he wanted.

This, his brain supplied helpfully.

Arousal was hooked into the base of his spine, kicking streaks of delicious flame straight up to the base of his skull where they burst into white-hot points of pleasure like a firework. It left no room for thought. It was intoxicating. It was excruciating.

He hoped it was as excruciating for Aziraphale as it was for him.

" 'S thisss... good?" he pressed. His voice was ragged and low, the words dragged out of his chest and exhaled harshly against the angel's ear.

This time the hissing had nothing to do with stress.

Aziraphale made a noise that was decidedly unangelic; a sort of rumbling growl. It was an impatient, frustrated sound that Crowley could feel as well as hear. The pleasurable vibration sank deep into his bones, anchoring him in the moment.

"I'll take that as a yes," Crowley breathed into the angel's mouth, and kissed him deep and slow. His hands ran down Aziraphale's arms to where his palms were pressed firmly into the chair cushion, and he brought them up between them, lacing their fingers together.

He pulled away. "Is it a yes?"

Aziraphale's eyes fluttered open and he glared at Crowley, the effect utterly spoiled by the expression on his face. He looked punch-drunk, wrecked and they hadn't even- They'd barely-

"If I say yes, will you stop teasing?" Aziraphale said through clenched teeth, and Crowley huffed a laugh. A simple, uncomplicated happiness swelled in his chest until he felt like it might crack him open.

"If I say yess, will you believe me?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale half-nodded, half-nuzzled against him.

Crowley spared the briefest thought for everything that had led him to this moment - the Serpent of the Garden of Eden rather improbably straddling the Guardian of the Eastern Gate, his forehead pressed to Aziraphale's, their noses brushing, their breath mingling, their fingers interlocked, their hearts pounding in a complimentary rhythm - and he thought it made the Fall worth it. Made it all worth it.

"Well, I'm a demon. Maybe I'm lying," he said, thinking of another time, and when Aziraphale slanted him a glance he gave him a grin. He put his lips to his ear, barely grazing the skin. "Tell you what, let's find out..."

And the angel choked out a laugh, and Crowley's heartbeat was so loud and fierce he thought the room must be shaking with it, and he wondered if there was even a word for this, wondered if Aziraphale, with all his books, would know what it was, because it felt too big, too much, too wonderful...

And then he knew what Aziraphale would say, knew what the word was, and it rang in his skull, echoing his heartbeat:

Ineffable

Ineffable

Ineffable

[yamazakura-shinden]

Violet flames scorch the once-usually quiet woods of the Land of Fire. A boy stands amidst the chaos, heaving and desperately trying to catch his breath. He leans against a lone tree in the embers. The boy's- Osuke- pale skin is littered with bruises and scratches from head to toe. His cherry blossom pink hair is matted and messy. Long and soft locks ruffled in all directions.

"How did it come to this?" Osuke bitterly asks himself. The soul-crushing guilt clouds his judgment. His gloved hands tremble in fear. The pink-haired boy loses control over his chakra-enhanced strength snapping the tree in half with a single curl of his fingers.

Before Osuke can calm himself down, the clearing just a few yards away erupts in a giant mass of light, stunning him in the process. The mass destruction before his eyes is none other than the works of a Bijuu Bomb- something only tailed beasts can create. "No." Realization dawns upon the pinkette. Be wastes no time to dash in the opposite direction and pushes himself to run as fast as possible.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO, NO!" Osuke chants to himself as he begins to feel even more distressed by the second. His breath is uneven and shallow, the stinging from his wounds sharpens, but he cannot stop running. He needs to get back to his friends- Suisen and Suzume. The former is badly injured and unconscious with only Suzume there to keep him away from the clutches of The Hidden Leaf Village, also known as Konoha.

Osuke maneuvers through the burning forest and swiftly jumps from one tree branch to the next while carefully avoiding the purple flames. His mind is only filled with images of his struggling friends, too preoccupied with them to notice the terrifying beast looming over his petite form. The beast is nothing, but a shapeless shadowy mass with a pair of lifeless white eyes. Despite being at least 20 times the size of its unassuming prey, its form is still incomplete and is a mere fragment of the Zero Tails.

A cold and disturbing chakra takes over Osuke's senses. The chakra is enormous and overwhelming enough to force the pink-haired teen to stop dead in his tracks. His battered and worn out body tenses and he slowly turns around to meet the animalistic gaze of his hunter. Before Osuke can get a better look at the shadowy creature, he's suddenly thrown into the chaos.

The ground splits open, and trees and massive chunks of the terrain fly across the scene. White hot pain swiftly spreads throughout the rogue ninja's body. The agony is an understatement to the pain he feels after the beast cleaves more than half of his left arm, leaving a small chunk of his upper arm intact, and splits his abdomen open.

...

"That was quite painful, wasn't it?"

There it was again. That obnoxious voice in his head.

"Although.. I'm quite curious about what happened next." The voice made its presence known seven or so months ago. At first, Osuke was startled and thought he'd gone mad after that terrible night almost 2 years ago from today.

"Well, well, well! Aren't you being uncharacteristically chatty and nosey today?" He sassily remarked, already used to the voice in his head. They had a strangely comforting and calm tone, but also baritone and weary.

"Seeing that I'm all alone in this dark place with so little to do to entertain myself, it's only natural to make use of what little I have."

The mysterious voice tried to reason, but he didn't buy it all.

"This is the fourth time you tried to pry into my memories!"

"And I failed every single time thanks to your freakish inner self!"

Another useless attempt to defend themselves regardless of whether they were in the wrong or not.

"It is as if he's your guard dog to your subconscious."

They crudely commented.

"WHY YOU LITTLE-"

His inner self chimed in as if he heard the half-hearted insult thrown by the disembodied voice.

"HOW DARE YOU COMPARE ME TO A DOG?!"

Inner roared in fury.

"There he goes again barking like a feral beast.."

They sighed tiredly. Something which Osuke's father did quite often at his childish antics from a time that was just a distant and bittersweet memory for him.

“AGH GET OVER HERE YOU SLY, OLD FOSSIL!”

The pink-haired young man's inner self cracked his gloved knuckles.

"Wait! Keep your hands off of me, you brat!"

“CHAAAA!”

Osuke grimaced. While those two were getting into petty fights, he tried to concentrate on concealing his chakra signature. He didn't want to be caught in a place heavily guarded by Hidden Leaf ninja. The rouge ninja meant to contact Orochimaru, but the only way to do that was to personally visit him.

It has been proven to be confusing and arduous to navigate in Orochimaru's hideout. The corridors were long, seemingly endless, their walls were adorned by serpentine patterns. The dim lighting illuminated by the few torches scattered around didn't help much. The interior was unironically befitting of the Snake Sannin.

"How the hell can Orochimaru work in such poor lighting?" Osuke wondered while he blindly sneaked into the darkness of the underground lair.

His silent musings were interrupted by a foreign chakra signature emanating down the dim hallway. The signature belonged to a Leaf Jonin patrolling the area. The young man unsheathed his tanto knife from its simple yet elegant sheathe attached to his thigh. The blade had a deep crimson color and the type of the hamon was kaen. Osuke planned on incapacitating the jonin quietly from behind. All he needed to do was plunge the glinting blade deep into his jugular and hide the body.

"Wait! Don't kill the guard. You might raise suspicion which will make it harder for you to come back here."

Osuke's disembodied companion interjected before he could act on his malicious intentions.

"Then what do you propose to do instead? I doubt you have any better ideas."

"As a matter of fact, I do."

...

​Meanwhile, a certain sannin tirelessly worked on making a breakthrough with an unknown substance that was brought to him recently. Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed at the petri dish infront of him. Despite all the acids and bases along with the most powerful catalysts he has thrown at it, the contents inside remained all the same. In other words: no reaction whatsoever. Orochimaru had never come across any element incapable of reacting. The only acid didn't use yet was Fluoroantimonic acid, also known as the deadliest acid in the world.

The snake sannin's gaze lingered on the small glimmering chunks in the petri dish. They resembled familiar and commonly used elements yet also had an otherworldly appearance. As if they came from the distant stars themselves.

Suddenly, the sharp blade of a tanto was pressed against his throat. The cold steal against his jugular was held by Osuke Uchiha himself. Orochimaru easily recognized his chakra due to meeting many members of the Uchiha clan in the past. No matter how unique and distinguished their signatures were, they always shared one common characteristic- an inextinguishable flame that continued to burn even after death.

"You have some nerve to sneak up on me like that."

Orochimaru chided. He was unamused by the pink-haired Uchiha's audacity. He tightened his grip on his weapon. Osuke glared at him in silence letting the older man speak freely.

"I suppose you have some reason to come here- a place full of elite jonin who are being supervised by Captain Yamato directly."

From what was taught to Osuke during his days in the Academy, Captain Yamato was a seasoned ANBU captain and war veteran. He was described as a formidable opponent by his past jonin instructor when he was a genin.

"There's no way you could've gone this far without alerting anyone."

The snake sannin was curious about the lack of ninjas rushing in to apprehend Osuke for trespassing.

"Either way, how did you get in here?"

Osuke just ominously grinned.

"Well... I have my ways."

"I DID ALL THE HEAVY LIFTING, CHAAA!"

The "ways" yelled at his counterpart in the real world. His irritation with Osuke was more than obvious.

An awkward silence impregnated the tense atmosphere of the lab. That made the pinkette scoff indignantly and begrudgingly put away the tanto.

"I'll tell you why I came here to speak with you."

Osuke paused to collect his thoughts as he sheathed his weapon before continuing.

"You have some information I need.'

"Oh?" The sannin was intrigued. What could someone like him want to know from him? He'd seen Osuke a few times when the young Uchiha was still a child. The weak little boy with no self-esteem was a far cry from the daring rogue ninja before him.

"What information are you talking about?"

"I need Hashirama cells and the S-Rank jutsu Edo Tensei."

Orochimaru abruptly burst out in uncontrollable laughter. His cackles rang throughout the lab.

"So you came here, waltzed up to me like you own this hideout, and now you demand from me something you can only dream of?"

The snake sannin ridiculed Osuke in between fits.

"Do you hear even yourself, boy?"

The young man could barely hold back his rage and embarrassment.

"Hear me out, will ya?!"

He yelled at the older man who has cackled and mocked him for five minutes straight.

"I would be a fool to expect you to want nothing in return."

Osuke "calmly" stated after taking a deep breath and putting on a stern face.

"Therefore, I shall assist you with your research on your most recent project."

Orochimaru rubbed his chin while contemplating the young man's words.

"I made a few breakthroughs on my own and am willing to share them in exchange for the information I'm seeking."

Then he added to sweeten the deal. He knew that the snake sannin was frustrated with his lack of progress in his research. It was obvious due to the messy and aggressively written notes scattered across the desk. He watched Orochimaru's thoughtful and reluctant expression morph into a pleased grin, his sharp fangs peeking out the corners of his lips.

"Very well then. I accept your proposal, Uchiha Osuke. I look forward to working with you~"

To be continued…

[mumpkins-art]

MobMina Summary + Headcanons

I decided to just post everything as-is, so these will just show some of the headcanons that I have so far. Feel free to ask any questions and I'll add them to my thread on BlueSky :)

SUMMARY

Let’s just assume that the settings are meshed together.

They didn’t meet in their childhood, or through any schools. Shigeo is from Seasoning City (let's say Saitama prefecture because that’s where the author’s home is), and Mina grew up in Chiba, moving to Musutafu (Shizuoka prefecture) for UA. No less than about two hours distance.

Shigeo, while probably admiring the idea of heroism in a fantasy sense, probably wouldn’t take it as a serious consideration. It’s a lot of work helping others with his powers, and he doesn’t want to rely solely on his powers to define himself.

I can see him going through a few different kinds of jobs until something clicked. Primarily he will want to teach, helping children how to work and healthily develop their powers.

But he still tends to get pulled into helping with spirit work (because we’re meshing these worlds remember?). He moves to a bigger city for a better position.

Mina, of course, IS a pro hero! And a pretty damn popular one. Her direction doesn’t stray from when she was in high school, and she aims to make the world a better place with kindness and confidence. She becomes the flashy hero that shined and inspires others.

The two would likely meet in the middle during their young adult years with Mina as a successful hero, and Shigeo living around the city she usually patrols. They meet by happenstance – he saves her from a fall against a villain – and she decides to treat him to lunch later.

Things don’t happen right away, and there is a lot of getting to know each other before anything serious. They’re friends for a bit before he finally makes a formal confession. Even though Mina has just the spunk to have done it herself, it meant a lot more for him to express it. Because Shigeo has a hard time doing that.

He’s mysterious to her at first and difficult to read, but he communicates effectively and was an attentive listener. He’s not an overwhelming person, but a quiet presence. A wallflower even. And Mina being herself just wanted to pull a guy like him out from the wall a bit. He’s a gentleman, not really a flirt, and pretty secure of himself. He calms her down.

Shigeo always thought to live modestly, but everything about her is vibrant. Her features, her smile, her eyes, her personality. The way she laughs, her supportive nature, and love for life. Mina is LOUD in every sense, but she invites him to her world effortlessly. He will walk the earth with her, and she will rest herself beside him. (edited)

HEADCANONS

They are obsessed with eachother, but not in a way where it’s obnoxious and all over the place. Shigeo is more reserved about it, and while he doesn’t talk about her a lot, he certainly does think about her all the time. Mina meanwhile has to catch herself from babbling about him.

Mina doesn’t do well with horror (unless it’s aliens), but Shigeo doesn’t even flinch. She finds herself clinging to him in any given spooky instance. Despite this, Mina asks him a LOT of questions about ghosts.

Mina LOVES partying of all sizes. Shigeo went to her with a club once, but knew quickly it just wasn’t for him. Too loud, too many people, and way too chaotic for his liking. Since then, he stays home when she wants to go clubbing with friends. He’ll take care of her when she comes home exhausted, and she just melts.

Her friends like him! Kirishima was excited to offer working out together at his gym sometime. Some of them were surprised at for how different he was from her.

His friends were surprised at how different she was, even skeptical of whether they would last long. Not that she wasn’t a sweet girl, but they really were two different kinds of people! But after a meal together it was easy to see his smile when she talked and easily got along with everyone. She and Tomie could talk FOREVER about aliens.

Shigeo can’t dance. The guy has NO rhythm, but by god will he get up and try when she wants to sway a bit.

Mina doesn’t have a lot of time to play videogames, but they will have dates where they’ll play games together. Minecraft, Fortnite, Mario Kart, and Smash Bros. are their top couple games, but they’ll try new trending games too.

Shigeo can’t handle spicy or slimy foods. Both of these types of foods happen to be Mina’s favorite.. They’ve worked an agreement about this.

I saw someone's headcanon once saying that Shigeo's energy spikes a little when he's flustered, causing his hair to rise like a ghibli moment, and I subscribe to that. Mina thinks it's adorable.

Due to a night terror sleepwalking incident, Shigeo has a large acid scar along his left arm. Even though he forgave her immediately, Mina cried for days.

[snarky-magpie]

You are one of the few people who ship prongsfoot and Jegulus. How do you keep that up in the fandom and what is so appealing for you about both Jegulus and Prongsfoot? Elaborate

Hi nonnie, thanks for such an interesting ask (and also thanks for confirming my vague impression that most people choose one or the other ship but rarely both), and I apologize for the incoming wall of text.

How do I keep that up in the fandom—well, tbh, mostly by staying in my corner and not interacting with the fandom all that much. Connecting with people doesn't come naturally to me in general (hello undiagnosed autism), so this is my usual mode of operation anyway. However, Jegulus shippers have been mostly lovely, even though they don't seem to engage much, which I'm guessing is partly because they have so much material to choose from, so it can get kinda overwhelming and impossible to interact with everything and everyone. I did meet a few great people through Jegulus, though, and I treasure those friendships highly. When I tried to interact with the prongsfoot people, I was quickly taught that Jegulus shippers are not welcome. (I mean come on, this is ridiculous, it's just making imaginary people fall in love, it shouldn't be this divisive). It almost soured me on the ship altogether, but I love James and Sirius too much, so I just decided to stick to my lane, quietly write about them, and not get involved in this part of the community. It makes me a little sad, but that's the way things are.

Anyway. Now onto the more fun part, what I find appealing about both of these ships. To me, they're two different sides of the same coin, sort of. I believe I already mentioned this once, but Jegulus has a lot of inherently popular tropes going for it:

Enemies to lovers

Dating/pining in secret

Best friend's brother

Grumpy x sunshine

Sport rivals (quidditch or any other sport in modern AUs)

Second chances (in case Regulus joins the DE and then changes his mind)

Starcrossed lovers (pun intended)

Redemption arc

Tragic endings (if that's your thing)

So despite the characters never interacting in canon, there's a lot to build on and that's what makes the ship so attractive to a lot of readers and writers, myself included. Also, precisely because these two characters never really interacted in canon, we have so much room for interpretation, and almost nothing of it can be called wrong (I mean, it's fic, so it inherently can't be wrong, but still.). If you squint, you can even imagine Jegulus IS canon. Do we know who James dated before Lily? Nope. Him so obnoxiously crushing on a popular girl could very well be overcompensating. So yes, there's a lot to play with.

Prongsfoot, on the other hand, has a lot of basis in canon (I know this doesn't have to matter, but my OCD brain kinda likes it when things align with canon. That doesn't mean I agree or support JKR. She can rot for all I care.) James and Sirius are canonically besties. And not only besties, they're completely unhinged about each other. We only see them interact rather briefly, but it's clear they're devoted to each other. (I particularly love the moment when a girl eyes Sirius hopefully and he completely misses it because he's too busy ogling James.) Sirius is the only one who can make James behave. James is the one Sirius runs to when he needs sanctuary. They created freaking two-way mirrors to communicate when the other was in detention because they're so co-dependent an hour or two without speaking to the other is just too long. I know people argue with "yes, because they're brothers" - excuse me, do you actually have siblings? This is not sibling behavior :D (Also, they're not. Sirius lived with the Potters for about a year when he was 16 before moving out, and that's that.) Tbh, I don't understand why this ship isn't top-tier popular because, in any other fandom, it would be, but here, Wolfstar stole their spotlight, and the rest is history. Probably partly because we don't actually see James and Sirius both alive at the same time. (That's just my guess, though.) Speaking in story tropes, they're the epitome of friends-to-lovers, (possibly bi/gay awakening), soulmates, oblivious idiots. I'm generally a big fan of the friends-to-lovers dynamic, so that's probably what attracts me most to this ship.

So for me, as a writer, it's fun to explore these different facets of the characters—because the James from prongsfoot is not the same James who loves Regulus (although sometimes it's confusing to keep all these headcanons separated in my brain, and they start to influence each other, lol). It's also fun to write the different dynamics, so I don't get bored.

TL;DR: Both ships are great for different reasons, I wish people were more tolerant of other ships (and characters), and I've got a long prongsfoot and jegulus story coming in case you're interested. Cheers, and once again, thanks for the ask.

(PS. this is what happens when someone tells me to elaborate.)

[winryofresembool]

Jily one-shot: Not on your own

Summary: James helps Lily to realize that she is not alone with her issues (6th year Hogwarts Jily)

Words: 3600+

genre: hurt/comfort

rating: G

AO3

A/N: Please let me know what you think!!

...

”Evans? What are you doing out here?”

Lily opened her eyes and quickly attempted to dry her tear streaked cheeks with her hands. She knew who the speaker was without turning to see him, cursing herself for choosing this out of all places as her hiding spot. Of course the captain of the Gryffindor team would show up at the Quidditch pitch well after their regular training hours. It was only natural, when talking about James bloody Potter.

The truth was that Lily was a bit overwhelmed with everything – school stuff, family stuff, the events outside Hogwarts, to name a few - and she had needed a place where she could let her emotions out without the entire Gryffindor house or at very least all her dorm mates witnessing her mental breakdown. She had decided to sneak out, not even caring that it was past curfew already, and eventually found herself in the Quidditch stand where her legs seemed to have carried her on their own accord.

“What?” she said defensively. “You think only Quidditch captains get to hang out here whenever they feel like it?”

“Nah, I didn’t say that.” He attempted to swipe his stupid, messy, annoyingly ruffleable hair to one side, with the result that it stuck up in all directions. “You know I really don’t care much about who goes out past curfew and who doesn’t. It’s just quite unusual to find you out of all the people here, and especially at this hour.” He was quiet for a moment, observing her face. “Were you just crying?” He asked then, with a quieter, gentler voice.

“Why would you care even if I was?” she muttered, but she didn’t really have the energy to put a lot of edge behind her words.

“You seem to have this idea that I enjoy seeing girls crying.” James frowned. Despite that, his voice was also calmer than what Lily would have expected, especially knowing how much James enjoyed provoking her. Or at least had enjoyed. The past few months they had somehow managed to form, if not a friendship, at least a friendly-ish acquaintance where they didn’t yell at each other at every possible opportunity anymore. James had been helping her with Transfiguration while she had been helping him with Potions and while doing that, she had come to realize that there was actually more to this boy than what the loud, obnoxious, arrogant cover of his showed. Besides, she had to admit he had been somewhat less loud, obnoxious and arrogant that year. But that didn’t mean that she wanted him to find her in a situation like this.

“You don’t?” she feigned surprise and folded her arms over her chest.

James shook his head, his expression serious. “No, I really don’t. I know that I can be a piece of shit at times but I’m not completely heartless, you know.”

“That’s news to me,” Lily grumbled because there was no other way to take her anger out at that moment, but luckily to her James didn’t seem to be in a mood for a fight and he just ignored all of her jabs.

James’s hand found his hair again and he sighed. “Look… can we try to be civil for a moment? As much as I enjoy occasional bickering, I think there’s a time and place for that and now’s not one of those times, clearly.”

“Fine.” Lily said with defeat, just hoping the boy would leave soon so she could continue dwelling on her issues on her own. James, however, didn’t seem to be able to read her thoughts, because instead of walking away, he got closer.

“Can I sit down?” he asked, uncharacteristically hesitantly.

She just shrugged. “Suit yourself. It’s a free world. I can’t exactly tell a Quidditch captain to leave the Quidditch pitch.”

“Well, technically you could, since you are a prefect and I’m not, and it’s past curfew,” James pointed out.

“You want me to take points from you and tell you to leave?” Lily raised her eyebrow.

“I would rather you didn’t do that but it’s your call. However, even if you did take points from me, that wouldn’t make a huge difference because I’m not planning to leave, at least not before talking with you.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because you were crying here on your own and I don’t like seeing you that way,” James stated as if it should have been obvious. This quieted Lily down quite effectively. What he had just said seemed so weirdly nice for James Potter she wasn’t sure what to think of it.

“You don’t like…” she repeated.

“Seeing you that way. Yeah. What, is that yet another surprise to you?” He cocked his eyebrow. “I thought that we were… I’m not sure if friends is the right word for it, but at least friendly? And I care about my friends.”

“Right. Sorry.” Lily said. James Potter may have had his flaws but she knew that he was fiercely loyal and protective towards his friends. He remained extremely tight-lipped about Remus Lupin’s secret (a secret Lily had figured out the previous year), and somehow he and his friends seemed to even have found a way to spend time with Remus during full moons, if their tired faces the morning after were anything to go by. Apparently James had even saved Severus Snape from an encounter with Lupin’s werewolf form, though how that had happened, Lily had no idea.

“So…” James attempted to catch her attention again. “I’m probably overstepping some boundaries when I’m asking this, but… do you want to talk about it? About what’s upsetting you?”

“Not really,” she said.

James thankfully wasn’t trying to push her. “Alright, fair enough.”

A silence fell between the two of them, but even as it got longer, James made no effort to move from his seat. Apparently he did not want to leave her alone in that mood. Something about that gesture sparked a little flame of hope in her heart.

“It’s… it’s a lot of things.” she finally spoke. “I doubt you’d want to hear me ranting about my issues for an hour straight.”

“Try me.”

James’ eyes looked fierce and determined with the moonlight reflecting from his glasses. It was enough for Lily to take down the dam she had been building inside her for weeks.

“Okay. Brace yourself.”

She looked up at the night sky, wishing the stars would somehow tell her what to say.

“Sometimes… sometimes I feel that no matter how hard I try… I’m never enough. Never a good enough sister. Or a daughter. Or a friend. Or a girlfriend. Never a good enough member of this goddamn society.”

She didn’t know what James had been expecting but clearly not this.

“Why… why would you say that?” he asked, his eyes wide.

She let out a humorless chuckle. “Oh boy, where do I begin? My sister hates me. Truth to be told, I think she has hated me ever since Sev… er, ever since I found out I was a witch, and she wasn’t. I’ve been trying my best to be nice to her, write letters to her every week, send her some of Honeydukes’ best sweets and the funniest Zonko’s products… And she takes that as me boasting about my new, ‘wonderful’ life. Last week, she sent me a letter saying it would be better if I just stopped contacting her. Her reasoning was, ‘what would my new neighbors think if I had owls flying near our house in daylight? What would my boyfriend think?’ She has made her message perfectly clear… she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore.”

“In that case she’s out of her mind and doesn’t know what she’s missing.” James said quietly. Before Lily had time to react to that statement, he continued: “What about your parents? Don’t they try to get some sense into her or something?”

Lily shook her head. “My parents… they are trying to be supportive but I don’t think they really understand Petunia’s resentment or what it’s like to be a Muggle-born in the wizarding world. I can’t talk to them about that stuff; they would instantly get me out of this school if they knew half of what’s been going on lately. And sometimes I think that even though they say they’re proud of me, they actually wish I would be a normal girl in a normal school. It’s asking a lot from them, having to come up with excuses and fake stories about where I am most of the year. I’m not even sure all their friends know that they have two daughters and not just one. The worst part is…” Lily felt her voice crack a bit, “I can’t really even blame them for that.”

James didn’t seem to know what to say to that. Lily could see countless different emotions from shock to outrage flash on his face as he processed her words.

“I’ve seen your parents; I know it’s probably hard to imagine for you that not all the parents are like that,” Lily added, thinking about how happy the Potter family always seemed when they hugged each other during a reunion at Platform 9 3/4. Her statement snapped James out of his daze.

“No! No! Trust me, I know I’m an extremely lucky bloke to have a family like that. But I’ve seen the other side too… Sirius… Er, he was disowned by his family last year and he has been living with us ever since. What I’ve heard from him about the other Blacks… they are not the kind of people you want as your relatives, to put it lightly. So let’s just say: I can imagine.”

That piece of news did come as a surprise to Lily. Sure, she was aware that Sirius was probably not close with his family; she had never once during the nearly five years his little brother had been at Hogwarts seen the brothers talk, nor did Sirius get letters from home like most of the pure-blood kids in the Slytherin table did. But she hadn’t known about him being disowned.

“Why was he disowned? If that’s something you can share.” She couldn’t hide her curiosity.

“Well, it’s not really a secret that he doesn’t share his family’s views on blood purity. To give you an idea of what they are like, Bellatrix Lestrange, who is allegedly one of You-Know-Who’s biggest supporters, is his cousin. When Sirius made his stance clear, it… got pretty ugly. To give you some less gory details, his lovely mother burned this name off the family tree and told him there was no coming back.” He mimicked blowing up something with his wand. “I should probably mention, if this was still unclear to you, that I fully agree with Sirius. My parents have always been avid supporters of Muggle-born rights and my mother dear would disown me if I didn’t follow in their footsteps, but I promise you, I would want to do it regardless. In case you’re wondering, no, my family is not very high on the popularity list among the pure-bloods currently…”

Lily just stared at him for a while. For some reason, she had never considered James Potter as a potential ally.

“Why have you never mentioned this before? I’ve always assumed… I don’t know, the way you carry yourself like you’re the king of the world… I’ve always wondered why you don’t get along with Slytherins even though you are a pure blood prince like them… Guess this explains some of it.”

“Some of it, yeah,” James admitted. ”A lot of them are gits in more than one way, though.”

“Doesn’t give you a right to hex them whenever you feel like it,” Lily said sharply, still remembering a very specific day by the lake about a year earlier all too clearly.

“Maybe not, but it’s not like they wouldn’t hex you back…” He seemed to decide it would be better to change his approach. “Um, anyway. I know I’ve been a git too and I’m not going to make more excuses for my past behavior.”

“Good.”

They were quiet for a moment. Lily was still processing the things James had just told her when he spoke again: “Er, I feel like I may be prodding a wasp nest here, but does the ‘not a good enough friend’ part have something to do with a certain Slytherin?”

Lily winced. “Sometimes you’re too observant for your own good. But I guess there’s no point in lying… There are moments when I wonder: could I have done something differently? Could I have stopped him from… doing the things he’s done?”

James looked at her darkly. “I don’t think you could have. He’s responsible for his own choices, remember. But since we’re being honest here… I feel responsible too. He may not have called you that if I hadn’t provoked him and acted like an idiot…”

Lily considered this for a moment. “Maybe not but there was more to our drifting apart than one slur. It had probably been coming for a while. We… we were arguing a lot during our last year of friendship and he was inventing these suspicious spells and hanging out with people who don’t hide their interest in becoming Death Eaters... My dorm mates always kept asking me why I still spent time with him even though I knew what he was like… Maybe I didn’t really want to believe it. Not before he called me a Mudblood in front of all those people.”

James shot her a warning glare. “Please don’t use that word.”

“Why not?” Lily exclaimed, the frustration taking over even though she tried her best to stay calm. “Mudblood and proud! I’m not afraid of a word, Potter. I’m afraid of people who are trying their hardest to take my future away from me and wanting me dead, regardless of what they call me. You’ve never had to be afraid for your life so you wouldn’t understand. You don’t know what it feels like to not belong anywhere.” She had to blink hard to keep more tears from spilling from her eyes.

James opened his mouth in an attempt to say something and closed it again. He moved his hand a little closer to her, but when Lily thought he would touch her arm, he seemed to decide against it. “You’re right. I don’t know what that feels like. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care, or that I’m just planning to stand in the sidelines while you struggle, Lily.” She didn’t miss the fact he used her first name. Something about the softness of his voice when he said her name… it made her feel a tiny bit lighter, somehow. “This is about our entire wizarding community, and I want to do whatever it takes to make things better. For you. And all of us.” His eyes were dead serious, telling Lily that he meant every word he said.

“I thought you were planning to become a Quidditch player or something,” she admitted, only now realizing how little she actually knew about James Potter. The boy ruffling his hair constantly and grinning like an idiot at a joke he himself had told was so different from the one who was currently sitting next to her.

“Maybe if things were a bit different…” he admitted. “But it’s not the only thing I would like to do. Sometimes I’ve wondered what it would be like to be an auror or a healer… McGonagall has been trying to encourage me to do more Transfiguration research after finishing Hogwarts. I wrote an article on Gamp’s law once and it was published in Transfiguration Today.” He seemed almost ashamed to admit that. “But I dunno. It’s an interesting field but I’m not sure I can picture myself sitting behind a desk with dusty papers all day long, for years.”

Lily too tried to imagine him doing that and she had to admit it was quite difficult.

“How do you do that?” she finally asked. “I mean, make everything seem so effortless? You get Outstandings in pretty much everything – I’m only better than you in Potions – and you’re a great Quidditch player – oh come on, don’t look so smug, I only state the truth – and you are a natural with people – when you’re not hexing them… How?”

“First of all, Evans, I’m flattered you’ve paid attention to all that stuff,” he flashed a grin, having apparently decided it was safe to tease her a bit now that she was no longer looking like she would blow up any second. “More seriously speaking, though, I don’t think it’s really all as effortless as you seem to think it is. I’m good at Quidditch because I’ve had a broom probably since I was one year old and my dad taught me to fly. I fly countless hours, during and outside practices. And you may not believe this, but I actually do study behind the scenes. Sometimes. Whenever there isn’t important marauding to do.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Relax, I’m just trying to lighten the mood a little. But you can ask my mum, I do actually read every once in a while.”

“Of course your mum would say that,” Lily pointed out but her tone was softer than it had been earlier. “She’s mandated to do that.”

“Maybe,” James shrugged. “But trust me when I say that Sirius is the one who just swallows information the moment he sees it… I need to do more work than that.”

Lily considered her next words for a moment. “This might be too personal a question, but if we ignore Potions and other school things, what is something you struggle with? If you want to share.”

The smile that James had been sporting a moment earlier faded. “Well… my parents aren’t exactly young anymore and my dad has been pretty ill lately. I try to ask about him from my mum but she usually just brushes it off with a ‘don’t you worry about it, you have enough to worry about at Hogwarts’. Never the full truth. I could hear them talking during the Christmas holidays and it sounded like the healers are not… they’re not very optimistic about his recovery. I don’t know. Every time I leave home, I’m afraid it’s the last time I see him…”

For a moment Lily felt a sudden urge to take his hand into hers and squeeze it. She could tell that James’ father was important to him and he was quite close to tearing up as he talked about him. 

“I’m sorry, James.”

“Thanks. It is what it is. I’m not telling this to get your pity, though… I’m just saying that things are rarely quite as black and white as they may seem at first. I guess… that’s something I’ve slowly started learning this past year. Funnily enough, I think it was you who opened my eyes to see that.”

When she didn’t say anything, he added hesitantly: “There’s something else too that I’ve been thinking about.”

“Mmmh? Go ahead.”

“When you called me an arrogant, bullying toerag and all those other things last year… Did you mean it?” 

Lily’s eyes widened. “You still think about that?”

“Sometimes, yeah…” he admitted a bit bashfully, his hand finding the back of his neck. 

“Uh… Well, honest answer: if you would have asked me this time last year, I would have said yes. I did mean it. But this year… I’ve learned that there might be more to James Potter than the arrogant toerag that I saw last year.”

James laughed, a genuine laugh that somehow made her feel better too. “Gee, thanks, Evans. That’s good to know.”

“I don’t want to give you too much hope because I know how you get when you’re too proud of yourself…” She bumped her knee against his. “But let’s just say that you may be going in the right direction.”

“Alright, that’s fair enough,” he chuckled, his knee now touching hers. “Er, sorry, this conversation took a weird turn… I didn’t mean to make it all about me, I swear…”

“It’s fine,” Lily said and she meant it. “I asked you. It felt weirdly comforting to hear about someone else’s issues. Sometimes… Sometimes I withdraw into my shell and forget that I’m not actually alone with all this.”

Unlike Lily earlier, James didn’t hesitate. He rested his hand on top of hers and looked into her eyes when he said: “You’re not, Lily. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye but I want you to know that I’m here. To listen. If you ever feel alone or just want to rant or whatever…”

Warmth spread throughout Lily’s entire body, and she wasn’t sure if it was the hand or his words (or maybe both) that did it. 

“Thank you, James. It really, really means a lot to me.”

Then she did something that surprised even herself: she kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re… you’re welcome,” James stuttered when Lily pulled away, his hand going to rub the spot she had just kissed. 

Lily attempted to pull her cloak a bit closer to her body to hide her sudden flustering.

“It’s getting a bit cold…” she said. “I should probably go back inside. But it was good talking to you. Really. Felt nice to get some of that stuff off my chest.”

“I’m glad I could help.” James gave her a small, almost shy smile. Lily simply nodded and was almost out of hearing distance when James yelled: “Hey, Evans!”

He had gotten up from his seat and was now approaching her.

“Yeah?”

“Can I walk with you?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not.”

He caught up with her and spent the walk to the Gryffindor Tower talking about whatever came to his mind, but Lily found herself enjoying it. For the first time in months, she didn’t feel alone.

[hoppity-scotch]

🔶Connor Info🔶

Name: Connor Age: 28 (October 25th) Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Pansexual Height: 187.96 cm (6’2 feet) Occupation: Murderer Butcher

🔶Likes🔶

🌟 Not only does Connor love to cook it is one of his love languages, he’s no Michelin star chef but has had a good few years cooking for himself and others. Despite his interest in cooking it wasn’t by choice, in his youth he was forced into the role of cooking due to his mother falling ill. At first he hated it, as his father always told him cooking was wife’s work but eventually, once he started to perfect his craft, began to love it. 

🌟 Connor loves the outdoors such as camping or hunting as it was the few good times he had with his father. Loves to just watch animals in their natural habitat as well as enjoying the quietness of being away from a bustling city.  He’s fairly efficient navigating the wilderness and almost never gets lost, his father was an excellent explorer and learned a lot from him.  

🌟 Will never admit it to anyone but loves to watch animated TV shows and films, from Gravity Falls to Studio Ghibli. Couldn’t express a lot of emotion and creativity as a child and would often live through these desires by watching TV. Getting invested with the story and characters while also judging the writing and plot holes are just a few reasons why he loves animation.  

🌟 Connor is a total nerd for Geology, loves to collect different rocks and minerals he can find, used to find a whole bunch when he went camping that he’d keep in a box under his bed. You’ll be able to catch a whole heap of Geology books in his room as well as a shelf of all his favorite rocks, some of them are: Watermelon Quartz, Obsidian, Tanzanite, Benitoite, and smooth rocks (for stone skipping). 

🌟 Frequently goes to the boxing ring in town to train and keep up his physique, it’s important as being a butcher requires carrying a lot of weight around. It also allows him to get a lot of frustration out, he’s been known to go overboard at the ring and has been suspended a few times for almost beating others too hard. 

🌟 Absolutely adores spicy food, no level of spice can stop this man. He enjoys a lot of curries and soup dishes, anything that's hearty with a kick to it. On the other hand, he has the biggest sweet tooth, cookies and cakes are his favorite. Surprisingly, Connor is on the fence about ice cream, even though it’s delicious, he often gets terrible brain freezes.

🔶Dislikes🔶

💢 Connor is prone to hating strong smells due to him having a strong nose. He tends to get dizzy if he’s around scented candles, diffusers or even storing perfumes. This is why he prefers unscented soaps when cleaning and will often wear natural scents like white rose, sandalwood and vanilla.

💢 Connor often has earbuds in when going to places that have a noisy atmosphere like shopping malls, restaurants, even just walking by heavy traffic on the street. On top of his sense of smell, he has sensitive hearing and can become overwhelmed when met with sudden, intense sounds. He hates fireworks and lightning most of all, no matter how pretty they can be, it tears through his eardrums like a knife. 

💢 With every fiber of his body, Connor absolutely hates 2000’s comedy films, not all of them mind you, but the really immature and obnoxious ones. It always rubbed him the wrong way how movies use cheap jokes to try and get the audience to laugh,  he would always roll his eyes whenever those movies showed up on TV.

💢 Spring is supposed to be the month of rebirth and love, a time for the flowers to bloom and for the sun to shine. For Connor, it’s the season from hell, where all the bugs come back to life and pollen spreads like a sickness. He gets terrible hayfever and the constant smells from all the flowers makes him want to faint, and prefers to stay inside during this time. 

💢 Despite looking like he never sleeps, he doesn’t drink a lot of coffee. Connor actually hates anything that is bitter and bland, green tea, peppermint, vinegar are a few foods that make his stomach churn in disgust. If someone he cared about made him a bitter dish, he would eat it in a heartbeat, as he’d never turn down a loved one's dish. In saying that, please, don’t give him too much, eventually he’ll have to throw up. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Here is some information about my yandere OC! I may or may not change some details down the tract as he still is a work in progress, but I am liking how his character is so far (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ.

[nachitoesmuybonito]

Okay, so! I don't do stuff like this often because, frankly, I don't like my own writing (story writing, anyway, I'm more or less fine when writing for roleplay; weird, right?). But, I wanted to add a little something for the @lachowedding2023 event, because I love Lacho.

A ton of love goes out to @chocopinda for the absolutely wonderful inspiration and encouragement! No way I could have done this at all without you and your ideas! <3

Questions or comments can be left here or on my other blog @insanityofvaas and you can find the piece (a tiny thing) below.

Cold Feet

It's really happening. This is the day. The wedding. His wedding. 

Oh, God. 

The thought makes Nacho’s head spin again. How did it come to this? …Okay, no. He obviously knows how he got here. He and Lalo had joked about it one evening while having drinks. It'd been fun. Nothing serious. 

Then it came up again, and again.  

It became something they talked about more seriously. What it would be like to go through with it. What life would be like. Nothing would change significantly aside from having a title, really. It was still fun. It was like being transported back to childhood, one of those youthful moments where two kids would share their biggest dreams for the future and make a promise that they’d one day come true.

The rest just fell into place. 

He and Lalo began planning. Legitimately planning. Where to hold the event. Who they should invite. What to eat. What to wear. The perfect place to have a big party afterward. The honeymoon; that one was more Lalo than him, but that should come as a surprise to no one. Regardless, all of it was meticulously discussed between them down to the finest detail, and then finalized. 

Nacho was on board for the whole thing, naturally. Despite how a lot of his friends and his father feel about Lalo, Nacho likes him. He loves him. It’s absolutely true that they had a rough beginning. Nacho has never denied how much he disliked Lalo at the start. He was a Salamanca and every Salamanca prior to him had been bad news, not to mention bad for his health. So, so many days he’d wanted nothing more than Lalo to be gone, be that back to Mexico or, in extreme cases, dead. In his defense, Lalo can be really fucking obnoxious. Nacho still has more days than he can count where, if looks could kill, Lalo would be a distant memory. But you don’t talk about marriage, joking or otherwise, let alone plan a wedding without there being something real. Love.

That’s how it came to this. 

Nacho remains in what feels like a deep fog even when it’s time to begin. It’s a strange state of being present, but also completely on auto-pilot. He’s distantly aware of all the people around as he walks down the aisle; those final steps before it’s all said and done. His dad is present. His friends. Lalo’s friends and family, too. Lalo himself is just up ahead, waiting, smiling in that same stupid way that he always does; as confident as ever, as if the world isn’t about to change for them. 

The vows follow. Lalo goes first, because of course he would. Nacho keeps his eyes on the older man all the while, yet his mind continues to race. He looks focused despite how badly he wants to turn and run. This feeling has come up several times, the overwhelming urge to just get in his car and go without saying a word. That’s what they call cold feet, right? It’s awful. He counts himself lucky that vows were another thing they discussed at length. If they come up later, his ass is covered. 

His turn follows and he prays that he doesn’t look like a deer caught in headlights for several seconds before he begins to speak. More words that he knows by heart, words that he searched the depths of his soul to find. Oddly, with each that passes his lips, he feels some of the apprehension and fear melt away. Each word is another reminder of every single thing that Lalo makes him feel: desired, loved, safe, protected and so much more. Each word, while perhaps not as blatantly, is both a confession and promise that, yes, he feels all of those things for Lalo, too. 

Nacho misses the moment that counts the ceremony as finalized, but he doesn’t miss the one where Lalo kisses him. It tells him everything far better than any words: this was the right thing to do. This is where he wants to be. It’s okay to have had cold feet, to have doubted. It’s okay to be afraid, because this is a new chapter of life and new things can be terrifying. Nacho throws his arms around Lalo’s neck and he hopes, maybe he even prays, that the older man can feel every last thing that he’s feeling now.

This was the right thing to do. He’s exactly where he belongs.

–FIN–

[nosomatsu]

@gayroomate // plotted starter ( karamatsu )

Karamatsu doesn't go to many bars. Certainly not as many as his older brother does, anyways; typically, he just hits up either Chibita's oden stand, or the local place near their house that Osomatsu loves to take them too. It's even rarer that he travels the world -- but while in search of the fruit, and because their producers thought it would make for good entertainment, they were allowed to travel the world.

Things were taking a little pause for a while, though; right now, they were currently in Canada. Toronto, Canada, to be exact; and everything felt so wildly different than what he was used to. The buildings were tall, the streets much wider than the relatively small roads back in Akatsuka alley; and there was so many things to do, and sights to see! Honestly, it was a bit overwhelming.

Naturally, the first place Osomatsu wanted to hit up was a local bar, though. Not even two hours into arriving, and even with it getting dark soon, he'd dragged all six brothers out on the town, much to their dismay. Not many of them actually wanted to be here ( besides Osomatsu, that is ), but they couldn't deny that having drink did usually help them loosen up. They could always tackle sightseeing and searching around for that fruit tomorrow -- but after such a long flight, they deserved a little break! So sayeth Osomatsu, anyways.

Karamatsu, though -- he didn't really feel like drinking that much, nor getting buzzed. He didn't trust himself not to go overboard, even if he did have a higher-than-average tolerance for alcohol; swirling his wine glass, only sipping it every now and then, he'd strayed away from his group of brothers and towards the wall of the bar. It was a little out of the way of most of the others here, far enough from how rowdy his brothers were getting, and enough to see almost the whole bar and it's dark mahogany booths. This place was bustling, and honestly -- with all the racket, and the amount of people, it was probably better he strayed away from the group of his brothers anyways.

He CERTAINLY doesn't want to be there when Ichimatsu inevitably snaps. Why, looking at him now, he can already see him doing his best to shrink into the corner of the very booth they'd been sitting at, radiating such a terrifying energy that even from across the bar it made Karamatsu's skin crawl a little. Eehhhhmmm. Better focus on something else!

He shakes his head, lips a little curled back; and to cover up any uncertainty he'd been feeling, he settled for trying to be aloof and cool. Pushing up the sunglasses on his nose that definitely weren't needed in a bar as dimly lit as this one, observing all that passed him... yeah, that's Karamatsu's thing, alright. People watching was something he did a lot anyhow, and he'd gotten pretty good at being subtle about it, too. The triangular shades hid his eyes as he gazed to and fro, fro and to .... kind of doing nothing but keeping an obnoxious playboy smirk on his face as he took a sip of his wine every now and again, and preened his hair and leather jacket.

After awhile of uselessly trying to look cool, and balancing watching everyone with pretending he wasn't even looking at anyone at all, though ... one guy caught his attention. Walking into the bar with a couple friends, he'd noticed -- part of him instantly felt like it died when he saw the others walking in with him and chatting away. But, something about his black hair and his cute little sweater just captivated Karamatsu; he looked... very cute.

Despite his attempt to seem cool, the truth was that to approach the guy was pretty nerve-wracking when he was surrounded by friends -- so he instead waited for an opportunity for the people to stop hovering around that guy like buzzards. The moment he was certain he'd be able to get a good few words in, he'd made his way over -- but with every step, he looked stiff, and awkward. A bizarre walk, and everything about him seemed to be on edge; this was not something that went missed by his brothers when he passed their table, their obnoxious loudness screeching to a near halt once one pointed out how weird Karamatsu was acting.

He could feel their eyes on him. He KNEW they were watching him like a hawk. But, he couldn't chicken out now ... ! So, doing his best to take deep breaths and approach Wallace, he let that burnt on smarmy grin of his settle in. Walking right up to the open bar seat beside him, he'd knocked on the bar's countertop twice to get the guy's attention. Then, he'd turned around, cool as a cucumber, and tilted his sunglasses down just enough that Wallace could get a peek of his reddish brown eyes.

"Heeey there, gorgeous. What's a pretty boy like you doing all alone in a place like this?" His head tilted to the side, actively deepening his already deep voice. It was a little bit of overkill, and with his sparkly pants and his tanktop with his own face on it, well... it's pretty clear that he's a Lot. He's really hoping that for once a person -- this person -- indulges him in his shitty flirting, though. He's got to look cool, this guy has got to know how cool he is! Because he's cool-matsu! The coolest of the brothers no matter what they say! He can DO this!! With a confident snap of his fingers, and a little leaning over into Wallace's space, he continued.

"How about I buy you a drink, and you and I can chat a little more? Heh. But only one. Money's a little tight on my budget right now."

... Ok. Maybe he's doomed actually. What kind of person thinks revealing THAT would make him look cool? And WHY does he look so smug about it?!

[transdorcasmeadows]

Just wanted to throw something together for Jegulus Week before it ends so here you all go (ignore that I chose the very last day of the week to do this):

A Quiet Night

🌟Word Count: 1,448🪴

Regulus Black was never one to get overwhelmed; he had been taught from a young age that boys looked ghastly when they cried, and that no one would love a boy who allows himself to feel overwhelmed.

He found very early on his first year that the astronomy tower was particularly empty on certain nights of the week, and it was on those nights that Regulus Black would do what he was always punished for doing growing up.

He would cry.

He would cry, and yell, and let out every nasty feeling he'd kept bottled up in the days between- kept bottled up his whole life.

It was there he kept with this routine for three years of his school life, three years of relief when he wasn't at the house he was forced to call a home.

On a cloudless night at the start of his fourth year, Regulus rounded the same stairs he always did, well after his fellow students were supposed to be far past well asleep, when he saw him.

Dark, unruly hair, tanned skin, glasses that never sat right on his nose: James Potter.

The Gryffindor turned to look at him, startled for a moment before relaxing once more, ever-present grin on his face. "Regulus." He breathed. "You gave me a damn fright. What are you doing here so late?"

The Slytherin boy shifted slightly on his feet, avoiding James' gaze as he gave a shrug in reply. "Wasn't tired, I came out to look at the stars. What are you doing here, Potter?"

James hummed, looking out the window as the moonlight hit his face just right, right enough to drive Regulus mad. "Same as you, couldn't sleep. The stars look wonderful tonight, you picked a good time to stargaze." He turned to look at the younger boy and grinned, nodding his head towards the open sky to motion him closer.

Regulus fisted his robe in his hands, keeping his gaze lowered to the floor as he approached cautiously.

He figured he should count himself lucky to be in a situation like this; of all his brother's friends, James was bound to be the least likely to poke fun at him if he happened to crack and shed some tears around him. Though he'd still firstly drop dead before willingly letting anyone see him in such a sorry, pitiful state.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" The boy asked beside him, bringing Regulus from his thoughts. "The stars."

The Slytherin lifted his gaze from the window ledge to peer up at the sky, wondering to himself why the astronomy club wasn't there on such a clear night.

"Sirius." Regulus said, pointing out his brother's star like it was second nature, instinctual. His brother was always the star guiding him along, whether they were on the best of terms or not.

"Sirius?" James glanced behind him as if expecting his friend to appear.

"Honestly, Potter." Regulus shook his head and pointed up, lining his finger with the star in question. "Canis Major, and in it, Sirius."

James leaned his head closer to see where Regulus had pointed, seemingly taking no notice of the way the other boy tensed beside him at the action.

"That one?" The boy whispered, despite the fact that they were completely alone in the tower.

"Yes." Regulus answered, humoring him by speaking quietly as well. "Do you not pay attention in Astronomy?"

James chuckled and leaned against the wall beside them with his shoulder, shrugging with a smile. "It's not one of my strong suits, Astronomy."

Regulus hummed, keeping his eyes on the sky above. "I gathered."

"Yes, well, if only there was a smart Slytherin with a star's name to teach me." James mused, tapping his chin as if pondering it.

Regulus rolled his eyes, scoffing and shaking his head as he resisted a smile. "Or, better yet, do your homework."

"Come on, don't be like that." James chuckled. "Show me some constellations. Which one's yours?" He wondered, peeking up at the stars again with an obnoxiously wide smile.

Regulus sighed and pointed further off to another star, not as bright or large as his brother's, but his all the same. "There's Regulus, in the Leo constellation."

James followed his finger to the star and grinned impossibly wider. "Brilliant." He said with a nod. "Leo is a lion, right? Just like Pads is in the wolf one."

"That's right." The Slytherin nodded.

"I suppose that makes us pretty similar, don't you think?" James tilted his head in thought.

"How do you figure?" Regulus raised a brow.

"Well, I'm a Gryffindor, y'see, and Leo is a lion. So when you think about it, we're nearly the same!" The tanned boy exclaimed as if he'd solved some grand puzzle.

Regulus couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping his lips, shaking his head at the logic James had concocted. "You and I are about as similar as quidditch and Potions."

James frowned dramatically deep, pushing off the wall to step just slightly closer to the younger boy. "Come on, we aren't entirely different. We have things in common, don't we?"

"What could we possibly have in common?" Regulus challenged.

"Sirius, for one." James said with a shrug, noticing too late the way the other boy tensed and folded his arms over his chest. "Oh, right..." He added after a beat.

"No, it's fine. I hardly care that my brother spends more time with your family than his own, even outside of school. I couldn't care less." He said, sarcasm bitter on his tongue as he rolled his eyes and turned to sit on the window ledge, legs dangling dangerously down though he hardly thought to care. He'd spent enough time here to learn how to be safe, even with a large drop waiting for him to slip from the edge.

"Regulus, it wasn't meant to seem that way." James tried, letting out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. "Sirius, he told me the kind of house you call a home. I'm sorry if my invitation to let him stay whenever he liked came off as me taking him from you. He and I both feel awfully wrong about the way things have gone since then, but you know you can always stay-"

"Stay with you?" Regulus cut in, letting out a sharp huff. "I'd sooner lean forward." He rolled his eyes and demonstrated by moving just the slightest bit closer to the edge before James leapt into action, arms wrapping around his frail body and pulling the boy's back to his chest.

Regulus took a moment to process the moment after it passed before his cheeks coated pink, struggling weakly to free himself while stupid Potter held him in a vice grip.

"Let me go, you arse!" He grunted, trying in vain to escape the jock's hold.

"I'm not letting you fall!" James shouted over the other boy, holding him tight enough to hurt until he tripped, falling onto the cold stone floor.

Regulus groaned, lifting up on shaky arms to see James Potter, the insufferable quidditch boy just one year his senior, the boy who stole away his only brother, lying flat on the ground beneath him.

And man, did he look good.

It had always been a thought in Regulus' head, that James Potter was a charming bloke he wouldn't mind kissing if the opportunity presented itself, but it had never felt so real before now, so possible.

"Sorry, are you alright?" The other boy asked quietly, eyes never leaving his. Regulus nodded slowly, letting out a shaky breath. He slowly sat up and stood, brushing off his robes despite no debris covering him.

James stood as well, practically springing to his feet and adjusting his glasses even when he should know they'd never be cured of crookedness.

"I should probably head back before Wormy or Pads wake up and start a search party for me." The Gryffindor chuckled, scratching the back of his head before smiling softly at Regulus, more sincere than he'd ever seen on the older boy. "I'll see you around, Regulus. I hope you can get some rest tonight. I know how you Blacks need your beauty rest, and it isn't wasted on you."

Regulus stood silently as he watched James descend the stairs, waiting until he couldn't hear footfalls any longer before making his way down himself.

It wasn't until he arrived back in his room, blanket up to his chin and sleep hanging on his eyelids, that Regulus realised:

He'd never felt less like crying in his entire life. And it was all thanks to that pretty bloke of a boy, James Potter.

[inbarfink]

Bug Witch

Sometimes they are high-strung entomologists with a sharp but incredibly one-track mind, sometimes they are wilderness-dwelling hermits who can only really tolerate the company of arthropods, sometimes they are elegant wanderers dressed in the finest beetlewing garb - who will reveal themselves as the world’s most obnoxious tricksters at the drop of a hat. Whoever they are, Bug Witches are the friends and masters of all small invertebrates that have ever been considered pests. And yet the true pest is always the Witch themself.

Bug Witches' Emotional Focus is the emotion of Annoyance. They are the absolute experts in getting under your skin in the most petty and obnoxious of ways. They do not do grand gestures or large-scale attacks. They live in the world of tiny creatures, and as such they have a talent for focusing on the little details. Every one of the Bug Witch’s attacks is as small and seemingly as insignificant as a fly, and also just as capable of driving one absolutely mad.

To have drawn the ire of a Bug Witch is much like being caught in a swarm of insects. Each attack or bite is meaningless on its own, but the constant stream of little Annoyances can be truly overwhelming. And drawing this ire is not an uncommon occurrence or a difficult achievement. As much as Bug Witches are experts at Annoying people, they have famously short-tempers and big egos of their own. Bug Witches are very easily Annoyed - often it is the seemingly smallest and oddest little things that set them off. This unpredictability only serves to make them more annoying to deal with.

Some have picked up the tradition of Bug Witchcraft because they were always the high strung, quick to anger types and sought to use witchcraft as a way to get back at the world for every tiny obnoxious grievances they ever had. Others have always enjoyed being Annoying because they found it funny, and took up Bug Witchcraft as a way to maximise their ability to be pesky and irritating. And others have instead suffered through being labelled as Annoying, having their opinions and needs always dismissed as tiresome and pointless things. These Bug Witches picked up the craft to try and make lemonade out of very bitter lemons.

And just as bugs’ reputation as harmful pests is often undeserved, Bug Witches are usually a lot more beneficial than their Annoying Reputation suggests - with a wide array of helpful spells and skills in addition to the nasty obnoxious pranks. Even the truly malevolent Bug Witches will often offer enough beneficial magical services to make themselves a vital part of the community, despite also going out of their way to spread Annoyance to people. The status of “can’t live with them, can’t live without them” only makes them more Annoying.

Most Bug Witchcraft Spells tend to be variations of mundane Utility Magic, small and seemingly insignificant magical effects that can relieve or cause great annoyances. Their Emotional Focus is also very potent with most minor Curses - and they are skilled in both casting and breaking Curses. They also tend to be well-versed in nature-related mundane skills, especially entomology, but also stuff such as botany, agriculture, toxicology and medicine.

[primusfortuna]

Feld ⟡ Wonder Tea Party (06)

[01] [02] [03] [04] [05] [XX] [07]

“It All Depends On How You Cook It”

After leaving the elderly gentleman’s estate, we head into town to look for a place to stay.

Feld: ......

Emma: Feld, what’s the matter?

Feld: It’s just... Despite being in a place for eating, I escalated our meal into a fit of angry shouting. I apologize.

Oscar: I’m amused that you call it a “place for eating.” It seems I’ve rubbed off on you quite a bit.

Feld: Ngh...! Th-That’s because I hear so much of your obnoxious ramblings about gastronomy, they’re imprinted in my ears!

Emma: Hehe, I didn’t mind at all. Everyone was just about finished eating, anyway.

Oscar: Back then, your anger was a means of expressing your emotions, not just a fit of angry shouting.

Feld: ...? What’s the difference?

Oscar: You can’t tell?

Oscar: You were angry at the fact that Emma was being belittled.

Oscar: Your friends and companions, your family—it’s natural to feel furious when the ones you treasure are degraded or belittled.

Oscar: Even if you’re at a place for eating.

Emma: I was very happy you got angry for me, Feld.

Feld: ......!

Emma: I feel bad for the grandson, but I couldn’t will myself to go out with him no matter what he said...

Emma: And I’m sure that was for the best.

Oscar: I’m positive that he’s now alone, musing over those words you hurled at him upfront.

Oscar: That should lead him to reflect on himself, and change by tomorrow... Well, perhaps it’s too soon to say that.

Oscar: At least, you most definitely made an impact on him. I believe that’s a sign he’ll change.

Feld: ......

Emma: ...Feld?

Feld: ...Goodness. My head is spinning.

Feld: This swirling anger inside of me was born of overwhelming despair...

Feld: It was an ostracizing burden not even I could keep under control, and I couldn’t stand it...

Feld: And yet, when I’m with you both, I find hope in all the anger that surges within me.

Feld: Honestly... How absurd.

Oscar: I don’t find it absurd at all.

Oscar: All it takes is one cooking method— and even the most difficult ingredient to work with can turn into a fine dish.

Oscar: It’s a very common occurrence. It’s not something you need to worry about every time.

Emma: (Umm... Is the “difficult ingredient” supposed to be his anger? And Oscar-san and I are the “cooking method”?)

Feld: Everything always ties back to gastronomy with you. You gourmet imbecile.

Oscar: That is the highest praise you could give me.

Feld: I’m not complimenting you!

Oscar-san and I can’t help but smile as Feld crosses his arms and looks the other way.

When we first met, that angry shouting of his struck fear into my heart. But now, strangely, it invites a smile.

Oscar: Now... We’ve fulfilled our duty to that elderly gentleman.

Oscar: It’s time we come up with a plan to meet this “Alice”.

Oscar: Before we decide on the menu we’ll be serving, we need to learn more about this country’s cuisine.

Feld: Back to food again...? You really never get tired.

Emma: Hehe, but it’s just like him.

We set off after that, chatting as we walk, when all of a sudden I hear energetic voices in the distance.

Emma: That’s——

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