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miasmaghoul · 2 months

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moutaindew frotting <3

"You smell different."

Dew offers a questioning chirp, lays his head back on Mountain's chest to peer up at him. Water splashes against the sides of the tub, carries the sweet-scented suds over the sides to drip onto the tiled floor below. Mountain noses at his temple, sniffs at his soaked hair.

"How can you tell?" Dew settles back against his chest, stretching sore legs with a groan. "All I smell is oranges 'n dirt." Mountain snuffles against his ear and Dew squawks, slaps at his leg under the water. "Quit it, you weirdo."

Mountain ignores him for the most part, and Dew doesn't have the energy to balk at the attention. They'd spent a large portion of this sweltering summer day in the orchards, picking peaches and citrus by the bushel. Delivering some to the kitchens and the rest to the truck waiting by the greenhouse, all destined for the abbey's farmstand in one form or another. Dew hadn't minded the work, but it left him with jelly legs and a crunchy spine that demanded a nice warm soak.

Thankfully, Mountain hadn't objected to his request for a piggyback ride to get there.

"You need a better nose," the other ghoul rumbles, dragging the tip of his nose from the crown of Dew's head to the base of one horn. "What hair treatment did you use?"

Dew shrugs, letting his eyes slip shut. Resting one hand over the arm Mountain has looped around his waist and the other on a muscular thigh. Mountain's other arm rests on the rim of the bath, fingers swirling through the surface of the water. It's started to go cool, and Dew sighs.

"Dunno."

The little ghoul up his temperature until the tub is steaming again, pouring warmth into the broad body behind him as a bonus. Mountain clearly appreciates it, judging by the way he holds him a little tighter. Task accomplished, Dew waves at the bevy of bottles on the shelves next to the tub.

"Whichever one's in front," he mumbles, tipping his head when the other ghoul moves to sniff at his neck instead. "Didn't care what I got, just needed the gross gone."

Mountain chuffs, warm breath flowing over his wet skin. Dew hums with it, a sound that melts into a gentle exhale when Mountain presses his lips to the sensitive spot just below his ear.

"The blue one?"

"Maybe?" Dew strokes the soft skin of Mountain's thigh, an unconscious motion that mirrors the way Mountain's lips travel down his neck, across his shoulder. "Maybe green. Why, s'it smell bad?"

"Far from it, droplet," Mountain assures him. "Just...interesting. Different, but familiar."

Well that explains a lot.

"Are you tellin' me I stink or - ah!" Dew squeaks in when Mountain nips at his shoulder, fangs he's not expecting pinching his skin. "Hey, what the -"

"You smell good," Mountain whispers, and whatever Dew was about to say fades into nothing when he feels something stir against his lower back. "Really good."

Dew gasps when a rough tongue laves at his shoulder, shivers when it glides up his throat. His own cock twitches despite the ache still threaded through his muscles, and the little ghoul sucks air through his teeth when Mountain sucks his earlobe.

"Shit, Mount," he groans, raking his claws along the taller ghoul's inner thigh. "Thought you were tired."

"I'm fucking exhausted," he confirms, shifting his hold to splay a large hand over Dew's belly. "But you just smell so good..."

Mountain drags him closer, until he's fully flush with his chest and Dew can feel his half-hard cock mold to the small of his back. Mountain buries his nose in his hair while more water splashes to the floor, taking a long, deep inhale.

"So you keep saying," Dew mumbles, but he really can't complain when every breath seems to make Mountain throb against him. He wiggles as best he can, just to make the other ghoul gasp. "This thing seems to agree."

"Can't help it." Mountain's other hand sinks beneath the suds, grips Dew’s skinny thigh. "Dunno why, but -"

"'S fine," Dew sighs, working to make himself sound put out despite the fact that he's gotten all chubby himself. "But since you want it so bad," he lilts, a gentle tease, "don't expect me to do any of the work."

He means it to sound haughty, like a taunt, something for Mountain to bounce off of. To call him lazy, or a princess, or any of a thousand other things that would only add fuel the embers starting to burn in his belly.

"Okay," Mountain breathes instead, and Dew doesn't have time to process it before he's being moved.

Not far, mind, but still. Mountain hooks his hands under each of Dew's thighs and lifts him, the water aiding the motion. He sits the little ghoul higher in his lap, thick shaft dragging between Dew's cheeks and wringing a surprised sound out of him.

"Mount, what -"

"Shh," Mountain soothes, slouching further into the water until his knees break the surface. "Just let me have you."

Well, it's not like Dew would ever say no to that.

He's not sure what to expect with the way Mountain's arranging them, but it becomes clear soon enough; he settles Dew against his chest once more, but further up. Far enough for the little ghoul to rest his head on Mountain's shoulder. He rests Dew's legs between his own, keeps them spread just enough to -

"Oh."

Dew sucks his lower lip between his fangs when he feels something hard and hot insert itself between his thighs, pressed right up against his tight sack, and despite the warmth of the water Dew shivers eyes fluttering shut. He squeezes his legs together and loves the loud thud of Mountain's head hitting the porcelain wall of the tub. He snickers, rests his hands on Mountain's exposed knees.

"Like that, big guy?"

Mountain doesn't answer with anything but a low purr, the vibration lovely against Dew's back. Encouraging him to relax even further, to slip a little deeper. He can't even be bothered to open his eyes when one of those massive hands slides up his thigh, over his hip, fingertips drifting through his sparse happy trail. Mountain finds his stiff little dick, gives it a single stroke, and Dew doesn't bother hiding his soft moan.

Then the other ghoul chages his grip, presses Dew's cock against the firm shaft of his own, and as Mountain takes both of their lengths in one hand Dew feels him nosing at his scalp again.

"Who'd think you'd get so boned up over some soap," Dew mutters, as far from complaining as he could be. Mountain chuckles as he fists their cocks, one long, slow stroke.

"Can't help it," he repeats, and Dew responds with the tiniest roll of his hips. One that makes Mountain choke and hold them even tighter. "Fuck, Dew -"

"Just keep sniffin' me, weirdo," the little ghoul teases, happy to do nothing but lay back and enjoy the way Mountain's veiny shaft feels against his own. "But if you cum first you're suckin' me off."

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #mountain/dew #mountain x dew #mountain dew #got it done just in time for #mountain monday #(spoilers - dew used rain's special shampoo and smells like water and fire mountain just really likes it a whole bunch)#not rereading before i post so if you see mistakes #no you dont

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highvern · 6 months

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Peaches

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: weed mention, alcohol mention, mention of horror movies

Length: ~3.4k

Note: Drunk Goggles first time at the farmers market. this is prequel numero uno, predating Jealousy and Bite the Bullet by a month/month and a half?

Also dedicating this to the most fabulous readers who've been so incredibly sweet since i started this series! @mingyuonthemoon @tomodachiii and @lavendermins kisses to you all

read more here

[WEDNESDAY 11:49PM] MINGYU 🥔: Looked up that farmers market you mentioned MINGYU 🥔: You didn’t tell me it was HUGE YOU: i literally said it was the biggest one in the city but whatever YOU: im going this weekend if you wanna come! MINGYU 🥔: You sure? Don’t wanna impose YOU: i mean its a public event so my opinion doesnt matter MINGYU 🥔: You really know how to make someone feel special YOU: its a talent YOU: but seriously, you should come. you’ll love it. MINGYU 🥔: sounds good :) YOU: ill pick you up at your place around 7:30? MINGYU 🥔: like 7:30 AM YOU: any later and parking is a NIGHTMARE YOU: i promise its worth it!!! if not ill buy your coffee MINGYU 🥔: deal

Mingyu can’t decide if agreeing to go to the farmers market with you was a colossal mistake or a monumental blessing. Not because he’s been forced to wake up at the crack of dawn, or because he thinks he won’t like the market once he gets there, or even because he is stuck with you for the day. But because the way you look in a white sundress, hem gently brushing your knees with every step, one of the spaghetti straps brushing the curve of your shoulder, knocks the air out of his lungs. The frilly linen fabric sways around your figure as a gentle breeze sweeps through, ruffling your hair and the white ribbon you’ve pinned in it to hold some of the tendrils back.

When you picked him up he hadn’t paid attention to anything other than his own grumbling from the early morning sun. But now, as you walk a step in front of him and ook over your shoulder with a soft grin as you approach the entrance to the market, Mingyu’s heart squeezes.

He knew you were attractive, he had eyes for Christ sake. Been privy to the plethora of guys who had been interested in you in college, including his own fraternity brothers that wanted Mingyu as their wingman. The knowledge you were pretty sat with Mingyu the same way he knew the sky was blue or water was wet, an unconscious truth no one had to tell him. But this morning, Mingyu finds himself smacked in the face with an awareness that makes his palms sweat.

And it only gets worse as the morning ticks away.

Your laughter tinkles like a jingle bell, his heart beating as if he ran miles and miles to hear it. While you both wait in line for coffee, you talk animatedly, hands thrown wide as you describe the layout of the market and almost knock into another customer, making Mingyu chuckle. When you turn around to apologize, the shy smile on your lips sends a hoard of butterflies through his stomach.

He truly is no better than a kindergartener with a crush on his teacher the way his heart thumps wildly and his words stutter. Hands clammy, stomach in knots; staring moony eyed when a ray of sunlight illuminates your skin just so, providing a warm halo to make you look like an angel.

In an effort to preserve his sanity, Mingyu chalks it up to the natural response any warm blooded man would have to seeing a pretty girl wear a pretty dress. There’s no reason to think anything more of it.

No reason to think anything more of the recent increase in your time spent together. Purely coincidence that Mingyu finally took DK up on the offer to attend the weekly trivia night you happened to be a regular at. The happy hour specials were good and so was the company of his friends. It didn’t matter that it was preceded by a movie night at his apartment a couple weeks ago, you both coincidentally sitting next to each other on the couch, breathing out snide comments about the horrible movie Jun suggested; or how you ended up staying well after everyone else left, insistent on helping Mingyu clean up, much his own chagrin. And even before that, when you ran into each other at a mutual friend's birthday party and ended up smoking a joint by the firepit in the backyard; unexpectedly chatting the entire night, clutching your stomachs from laughter.

You’re friends, you’ve been friends since high school, and now that you’re adults you simply appreciate the comfort and familiarity that comes from being such a long standing presence in one another’s life.

Simple as that.

Approaching a table tended to by a man that looks old enough to be his grandpa, Mingyu takes note of the wine bottles and various preserves set up. Wednesday night you mentioned the market in reference to the fruit wine a couple sold, excitedly telling everyone about how you knew the answers to the bonus question because of your frequent chats with the wife that runs the stall. Mingyu realizes this must be the people you speak of with such fondness.

“I was wondering when you’d stop by, dear.” The older man at the booth smiled warmly at you, clearly familiar with your presence.

“Sorry it took me longer than usual, Mr. Jung!” You smile, returning the same warmth to the vendor as you nod towards Mingyu. “I was showing my friend around. He’s never been here before.”

“Not to worry! I saved you a bottle of the peach wine you like just in case we ran out.”

“Did you really? Thank you!” You gush. “Mingyu hasn’t tried it before but I’ve told him all about it.”

Mr. Jung sets the aforementioned bottle on the table before turning around, “Since your boyfriend’s never had it, let me see if I still have any in the sample bottle!”

“Oh! He’s not my—”

But your objection falls on deaf ears as Mr. Jung turns to dig in the cooler at the back of his booth.

Mingyu can’t help the way his eyes shoot to your face, noticing the warm pink glow tinting the apples of your cheeks that was absent a moment ago, your gaze looking anywhere but him as you shift your weight back and forth. Swallowing, Mingyu finds himself taking an over interest in the jars of jams and jellies that line the table; reading the labels fervently but not absorbing a word.

Boyfriend. Mingyu thinks, turning the word over and over in his head. Huh.

Thankfully, the older man returns with a small cup of fizzy ocher wine quickly.

“Here you go, son.” He says, passing the cup to Mingyu. “My wife is the one who makes all of the wines! Peaches are her favorite so she spent extra time making sure it was just right.”

Taking a small sip, the saccharine flavor blooms across Mingyu’s tongue. The taste of alcohol barely whispers amongst the delicate notes of peach, honey, and something warm like cinnamon. He can see why you like it so much.

Finishing the cup, he smiles at your curious gaze. “That’s really good.”

“Isn’t it?” Your own grin splits your face as you turn back to Mr. Jung, “How much do I owe you for the bottle?”

“Since you're one of my best customers, this one’s on the house.”

“Oh, I really can’t!” You object.

Mingyu keeps smiling, watching as you shake your head to the kind gesture.

“Please, sweetie, it’s really no trouble. My wife told me how you wouldn’t take the bottle last week either but I’m much more stubborn. Do an old couple an honor and let them give you something for all the business you’ve brought us.”

The silent standoff between you and the elderly man would be comical if Mingyu wasn’t hyper aware of how soft your lower lip looks when set in a slight pout, or how the way you narrow your eyes draws attention to how full your lashes are.

“If you insist.” you finally huff.

“I do,” Mr. Jung smiles, a hint of warm smugness at the way you fold to his request.

“But I’m paying for the jam.”

Your tone leaves no room for questioning as you pick up several jars including a few of the ones Mingyu had pretended to look at earlier. Mr. Jung just shakes his head as you hand over cash for your purchase, swiftly giving you back the extra bills you tried to sneak in for the wine.

“I’ll be back next week, and I’m buying a bottle.” You grumble but take the change.

“Alright dear.” He placates as you turn to leave.

Once you’re a few steps away he turns to Mingyu and whispers. “Young man you better take care of that one, she’s a real treat.”

“She is, isn't she?”

With your head turned the opposite direction, Mingyu doesn’t see the shy smile you're trying to stifle as you keep walking.

The rest of the afternoon is filled with bustling from stall to stall, your reusable bags bulging as they slowly fill to the top. Mingyu insists on carrying the heavier one, happy to lug around your finds while subtly showing off his muscles. It also gives him an excuse to watch unabashedly as you practically skip to and fro.

A warm welcome greets you at several booths, many of the older ladies pointedly asking who your “handsome friend” is, and a few of the older men sizing Mingyu up like overprotective uncles. But Mingyu lets it roll off his back, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of the brain wondering why it doesn’t bother him that people are assuming you’re more than friends. Instead, he focuses on charming as many of them as possible, making conversation and asking them about their products.

Just as you open your mouth to comment on the vintage locket you pointed out to Mingyu, a fat raindrop falls from the sky to burst on your cheek.

“Did you feel that?” You ask, looking at the swollen gray clouds rushing in to block the afternoon sun.

Glancing at the sky, Mingyu opens his mouth to say he hasn’t felt anything when a large bead peppers his own forehead, racing down to the tip of his nose.

A bone rattling crack of thunder is the only warning you receive as the skies open.

The market descends into madness; vendors rushing to pull their exposed wares under the cover of flimsy tents threatening to fly away in the gusts of wind. Patrons searching for cover under trees or the outskirts of tents that provide a sliver of protection against the downpour flooding the streets.

You register the warmth of Mingyu’s hand encircling yours, tugging you under the awning of a business behind the rows of tents and tables. You manage to both squeeze into the small space, barely a few inches between your soaking bodies, shivering as the wind whips against you.

“How far is the car?” Mingyu stutters, teeth chattering against the drop in temperature.

You can’t see beyond the wall of his chest that blocks you in, protecting you from the sheets of water falling from the sky and bouncing off the ground.

“Ugh…like two-ish blocks.” You try to gauge your location but everything beyond the cover of the awning is a blur. “I think.”

Another ear splitting boom of thunder, tailed by a flash of lightning has you both jumping out your skin and into one another.

“Let’s see if we can wait it out.” Mingyu finally decides.

Five minutes pass with no sign the storm will move on. The sidewalk is flooded, swamping your shoes as it carries leafs and other debris to the storm grate. Several of the people hiding with you decided to brave the storm, quickly disappearing out of sight.

“Wanna run for it?” You ask, peeking up at Mingyu as you shake in your soaked dress.

“Okay.”

Taking a second to organize your belongings, Mingyu bounces on his toes to psych himself up. It's only two blocks but the intensity of the storm means you’ll practically be swimming to the car. When you’re settled, you give him a nod. Once, twice, and then he’s breaking into a sprint towards the parking deck.

Your feet can barely keep up with his long legs, but you try your best; motivated by the warmth your car will provide and the spare blanket you keep in the trunk. Using an arm to shield your face, Mingyu’s silhouette is blurred as endless waves of water rain down from above. Each step kicks up the puddles at your feet but you can’t care, already saturated to the bone.

Turning a corner, the entrance to the parking garage finally greets you.

Catching your breath under the cover of concrete and metal, you finally look at each other. Mingyu’s hair is flat against his head, rivulets of water trailing down his neck. His white t shirt essentially see through, the oversized fabric once dwarfing his frame now clinging to his chest and arms. Even his pants suction to his legs, the light blue denim saturated to dark navy.

You squeal when Mingyu shakes his head vigorously to dispel the remaining water, not unlike a dog that just exited a bath.

“Gyu!” You yell, despite the fact that the few drops that fly your way aren’t going to do anymore than already has been done.

Your hair is plastered to your forehead and neck, tangled at the crown of your head from wind and rain. The once immaculate white linen dress now clutching your body, damp fabric dripping onto the cement where you stand. Sending a silent thank you to the universe that your underwear wasn’t visible, you waddle to your car to retrieve the blanket to dry off.

Storing your now soaked haul in the trunk, you take turns patting yourselves down with the soft worn quilt. The splat of water as you ring out your hair echoes through the nearly empty parking deck.

Mingyu offers to drive back to your apartment, confident he can navigate the raging storm for the twenty minutes it’ll take. Unwilling to emerge from the cozy warmth of the blanket swaddled around your body, you eagerly agree and toss him the keys.

Unfortunately, driving back to your apartment takes nearly double what Mingyu expected. Sheets of rain force him to proceed slowly, the gray of the sky blending with the pavement to make everything indistinguishable as other cars navigate sluggishly. The wind has only worsened, bending trees as thunder shakes the ground and lightning splits the sky.

Mingyu assures you that he doesn’t mind waiting out the rest of the storm at your apartment. He’d rather spend an extra few hours at your home than worry about you driving back from his alone.

Digging up an old hoodie and sweatpants belonging to a long forgotten ex for Mingyu to wear, you both get cozy on the couch; content to drown out the dreary weather with a movie. Mingyu suggests a horror movie much to your surprise but you indulge him, still feeling guilty that you hadn’t checked the weather before going out this morning.

After less than thirty minutes, the open bottle of peach wine is forgotten on the coffee table next to matching half full glasses. Two sets of eyes are shielded by the hem of the comforter spread across your laps, cowering against one another as the killer jumps across your screen once again to claim another victim.

With your heart pounding in your ears, you can’t think about the way Mingyu arm brushes yours or how his thigh is pressed snuggly against your own. How he’s using your back to shield his face, eyes squinted as he pops up over your shoulder when the movie calms for a second. Each movement sends his breath down the back of your neck, raising goosebumps you attribute to the terror flooding your system, the alternative even scarier than the film.

If he was of sound mind, Mingyu would realize his eyes can trace the tip of your nose down to your lips twisted in a wince as scream after scream pierces your ears. If he wasn’t two seconds from pissing his pants, he’d probably think about how alluring the plush flesh of your lower lip is, or how his nose is filled with the intoxicating scent of lavender shampoo and summer rain.

Another jump scare sends you both off the couch, your own screams echoing off one another.

“That’s it!” You quiver, diving for the remote to turn off the television.

“Oh my god.” Mingyu breaths, focusing on calming his frantic heart as his head tips back on the sofa.

“Why the fuck did you say we should watch that? You didn’t even open your eyes!”

“Jeonghan said it wasn’t that scary!”

Mouth comically wide and eyebrows furrowed, your face in complete disbelief.

“And you just… believed him?”

“Fair point but hurtful.”

Scrubbing your face with your hand, you sigh. “Let’s just watch something else. My pick.”

“As long as it’s not another scary movie, I don’t care.”

Your choice turns out to be of little consequence. As the afternoon hours bleed into evening, you and Mingyu rattle on like two friends reconnecting after years apart. The bottle of peach wine long consumed, followed by another bottle as conversation flows with each glass. The storm hasn’t let up an inch, continuing to pound against your windows, wind howling through the trees. But the noise is merely a backing track, blending with the long forgotten film dolling on the screen.

“Oh my god!” Mingyu snorts, “I forgot it was Jihyo that had to jump in the fountain.”

You also smile in amusement, “Oh trust me, she wants to keep it that way. I always send her the video on her birthday.”

“Why? It’s not that bad, everyone swam in at least once when we were in college.”

“Speak for yourself!”

“That’s right,” Mingyu nods. “You just went streaking in front of fifty people.”

“It wasn’t fifty people!”

“Close enough!”

“Lest we forget you mooned an entire party freshman year?”

“That’s not fair! We had to!”

“Yeah yeah whatever you say.” You’re cut off by your own yawn.

Checking his phone Mingyu realizes it’s well past midnight, “Damn, it’s late.”

“Oh shit you’re right,” Moving to the doors that lead to your small balcony you peek into the night, walls of water falling beyond the overhang from the floor above. “If you’re okay with it, you can stay here tonight. It’s worse than this afternoon.”

“Oof, you’re right.” The proximity of his voice startled you. You hadn’t realized Mingyu had moved so close, hovering a respectable distance away to look past you, into the darkness. “Only if you don’t mind!”

Instead of answering, you move to the spare linens housed in the closet hosting your washer and humming dryer filled with rain soaked clothes from earlier. The hoards of blankets on the couch should be enough but your own nights spent dozing on the plush sectional informed you that the fabric was quite itchy after a while. Snagging a pillow and a top sheet, you move back towards Mingyu before he promptly plucks them from your hands.

“I’ve got it.”

“You’re the guest!”

“Barely, we’ve known each other for what? Nine years now?” Mingyu shrugs. “Hardly counts anymore.”

Mingyu continues to brush off any attempt to help set up the couch. When he’s done, he plops down, fingers twining behind his head, displaying the bulky muscles that twist around his arms. His boyish smile and ruffled hair pull at your heartstrings. You simply toss the heaviest knit blanket you own on top of his splayed figure, relishing in the way the weight startled him as he fights to free himself.

“Night!” You call over your shoulder, unaware of the eyes full of curiosity following your retreat to your room.

With the lights out, Mingyu allows his mind to wonder. Boyfriend. he thinks again, staring at the popcorn ceiling above. In the years he’s known you, he can’t recall a time he thought about you romantically. Even the past few weeks you two had been hanging out; Mingyu thought he was seeking you out because he enjoyed your company, relishing in your humor and a shared history. But maybe there's another reason Mingyu hadn’t let himself accept.

Tonight, Mingyu’s dreams are filled with the sweet scent of peaches, soft linen dresses, and a distinct laugh that warms his blood. He tries to stop the girl tugging him along by his hand intertwined with hers, hoping to catch a glance of her face. It’s no use as she continues on, calling his name as she pulls him further and further towards whenever they were headed. He didn’t care much as long as she said his name again and kept her soft palm pressed to his.

And in the morning, when Mingyu wakes to you shuffling around the kitchen; eyes half open and face soft from sleep, padding to the coffee machine in a ratty old T-shirt with your hair a mess, he’s looking at you in an entirely new light.

#svthub #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #mingyu fics #mingyu drabbles #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #svt smut #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #dghe couple #🫡 highvern

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ch0wen · 6 months

Text

Cover - Part III | Tangerine x Fem!Reader | 18+

warnings: smut mentioned, (minors dni), cursing, & violence

to catch up - Cover - parts one & two

———-

Tangerine's large hands wrapped around the diner's ceramic mug full of his muddled-grey tea. Warming himself while also trying to still his shakiness. He was having a tough time attempting to conceal his nerves. He avoided eye contact to retroactively stall the dreaded discussion.

“So,” you started, “Tangerine and Lemon. Fruits. Why choose from that category?”

Across from you, the man looked physically and mentally relieved that you hadn't leaped right into the hard questions. A smile wriggled under his mustache,

"When we were younger, Lem and I loved to watch American cinema. We would get inspired by a lot of ‘em. We played the games they did, tried out the sports, and picked up similar traditions.

One day, during a rare, hot English summer, I suggested starting a lemonade stand. My brother reacted with, ‘lemons are too tart! No one even likes sour drinks. I don't want to sell rotten lemons,' and I would remind him that you can turn a sour lemon into a sweet delight with a little bit of sugar. Shit, you should've seen his face when I ended up persuading him and he tried our first attempt at a batch. We got the measurements so wrong!”

His eyes shone as he spoke. He seemed to have been slowly opening up. Laughing into his hand and playing it off as a scratch to his face before dropping it to the table's surface. He was earnest as he told of his boyhood. Intriguing you with his storytelling, and leaning toward him as he continued on.

"Anyway. He would tell me that I'm like the sugar. That I make things better. But frankly, I can be a rotten arsehole to him. And by now, maybe he has forgotten about those silly childhood praises, but I never did. Those were the times, especially at the beginning of our career, when he made me feel wanted. He's good at that. He doesn't even require me to be the sugar in our brotherhood. He's naturally a genuinely good man.

I do need to tell myself I am useful, and deep down, I may not believe that to be all true. But he reminds me. He’s good at making people feel understood and cared for. He is true to his codename. He's a lemon, and everybody loves ‘em.”

Absentmindedly, you played with his finger twitching on the sticky table. He curled his hand properly around yours to hold.

———-

The hours passed and the diner went through waves of people. Coming and going, in and out, like clouds in unsettled coffee. Breakfast rush, stillness, then lunch chaos. To the both of you, the other was the focal point. Everything else just felt like a static buzz.

“I can't help but notice that you haven't asked the question. Basically the entire point of this morning."

"I didn't want to force it out," you finger at the sugar packets, like skimming a mini record collection. Attempting to downplay your interest. “I wanted us to get there without having to press it.”

A grateful hum of, “You are a peach," transitioned into a sigh, "but I suppose you deserve to know that I am a contracted assassin."

———-

It was only half past two in the afternoon when you both emerged from the diner. You made sure to avoid the eyes in the queue of the waiting patrons. The large tip, Tangerine thought he dropped into the checkbook unseen, should at least ease the hostess's agitation about your prolonged stay. You stand facing each other on the bustling city sidewalk.

The silence felt heavy after hours-long conversations. You studied each other. Your chance to fully take him in, in a different perspective, a new light. You were wary of how to leave this after the time you just spent together. The things he depicted. The part of himself that he had fanned out. He seemed to have bore it all. How do you grapple with that while having to part ways?

Tangerine didn’t keep you speculating. His handsome face sported a pleasant smile as he stepped forward to hug you. The embrace lasted only a moment, but it felt that he didn’t want to let go -

Like he was trying to hold you still. Keeping all those secrets that he poured out over the cooling cups of coffee between the two of you. Pressing them in close and sealing them behind tight lips. To him, when you walk out of his sight, you’ll take his story with you. The moment that he lets you go, the truth gets out. Exposed are all the mysteries on the inside and his safety. The scary reality is that he potentially jeopardized his and his brother’s lives to answer your curiosity.

Except, that was just your mind racing again. Tangerine's hug lasted for a minute and in a beat, he was pulling his shoulders back to look down at your face. And then he pulled you in for a kiss, the breath-stealing and tangling your hand in his hair, kind.

———-

The date with Tangerine was like an omen that you wouldn't be able to get the pair of assassins out of your life. Every day, something happened that would remind you of them. One of your little students would ask for a bandaid. You'd hear a song that played in the diner or a familiar theme song that Lemon definitely was humming. You’d find yourself grinning.

Little reminders would pop up here and there. Until one-half of the duo started turning up here and there when you’d least expect or anticipate it. It was a gradually natural formation of a budding friendship with Lemon and an eventual relationship between you and Tangerine.

Your romance with the latter was like any 2000s Rom. Com. daydream, except for the consistent reminders that you were dating a killer ——

Your boyfriend would show up unannounced with fresh flowers and a splat of blood on his neck peeking out from under his collar.

Written-out jokes from Lemon were handed over with a roll of his eyes but the ghost of a smile on his lips. Signaling that he has already heard the ridiculous gag that his brother came up with.

He’d be up early and missing in action during the day, but made up for it by staying late on date nights.

He always found time to call you between the sporadic periods of action while on the job. Just hoping to chat about your day so far or what he wanted to do to you later. Your mind runs with what exact situations he was calling in the middle of, whenever he was out of breath or your conversations were cut short with crashes and shouts.

You could sense when he exerted too much energy after those particularly long workdays. He tended to be quieter, or his body weight pressed impossibly closer on top of yours as his cock pushed in deep, or when Lemon would physically need to drag him into your apartment and throw him onto the couch.

Regardless of his fatigue, once you got each other going - either by massaging his sore neck, his rough thumbs grazing over your exposed thighs, or knee rubbing against his bulge as you bandage up a cut - He basically reverted back into stealth mode. Targeting his focus on only you. It felt like he existed to get you off. Wanting you to come on either his mouth, fingers, or pounding dick. He may have been exhausted but he wouldn't lose stamina until you were finished.

Nine times out of ten, whether after a hotel rendezvous or candle-lit dinner over a pack of instant potatoes and Kraft Mac and cheese, you’d find yourselves snuggled up in bed. You were always left stated after a good fuck from Tangerine. Hands, tongues, and whispers danced in the shared tranquility of your space. You were making special memories with the limited time you found with him.

———-

It went on like this for years. Each day felt like you peeled away another layer of a fruit's skin. Discovering a new trait or trick of your boyfriend's. You anticipated something exciting when he flung open the apartment door or your bedroom window. He never ceased to thrill and fulfill your every need.

And that one Tuesday in Spring was no different. He strode up to your car after class let out, seizing your waist from behind. A spin to your hips in his grasp had him close enough to breathe into your ear,

"Fly out to France with me, yeah?"

———-

#bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train 2022 #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #cover #tangerine and lemon

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lorelune · 10 months

Text

stone fruit

|| the wanderer x reader || M || strangers to lovers + handfeeding + fluff || wc: 5.6k || ao3 ||

You and the enigmatic Wanderer become acquainted with each other, an old story, and the best zaytun peaches.

minors & ageless blogs dni

note: the wanderer is referred to as Zerah

✨🍑meet fruit masterlist🍑✨

a/n: !!! here's my piece for the willow's house server summer collab, meet fruit!!! for my fruit prompt i had peaches!!! enjoy this sweet summer treat of wanderer and peaches loves 💕

CWs: hand feeding

“You’re obscene.”

“What?” You ask, wiping a smear of peach juice from the corner of your mouth. “It’s just ripe.”

Verging on overripe truthfully, but you aren’t one to argue about semantics (not your darshan) or discard an almost-perfectly-fine fruit, just because it has a few squishy imperfections on its flesh.

Your traveling companion scowls, pulling back his lip to look a lot more like an offended housecat than the right-hand of the Dendro archon. You swallow down your mouthful and hold back a laugh. You’re sure he could be intimidating if he tried, but he reminds you more of a stray kitten than anything else.

The hill you perch on is grassy, dry from the midday sun but vibrant green with the rain that sprayed down that morning from Apam Woods. You’d avoided the worst of it, and you didn’t mind being a bit damp. Your companion hid under that comically large-brimmed hat of his, perfectly dry. Probably a good thing, given his feline-leanings. You don’t need to learn the sound of his hissing.

He regards you with an expected scrutiny and thinly-veiled suspicion that you’ve learned he picks everyone apart with. Not even you, his fellow traveler for weeks now, is sparred. It took you some time to not take it personally. Lord Kusanali had warned you of his eccentricities, but she’d had confidence that you would be ‘more than fine’ managing him.

If she had been anyone other than the Archon of Wisdom, you would’ve questioned her judgment.

Your companion gives you a tight tsk, “That doesn’t change that you eat like a shroomboar.”

You gasp, “Rude. It’s just juicy, I can’t help it.”

You really can’t. The zaytun peach you’ve been cradling in your palm for the better part of a half-hour has been dripping juice down your wrist. You’ve tried to juggle it to your other hand and lick up what you could, but the noise he made when you sucked on your index finger was far more obscene than the mere display of eating fruit.

Even now, Zerah’s face is blushed with a pretty pink, just like your peach. Affected, despite his particularities and general disposition. Perhaps you’d toy with him more if you weren’t trying to enjoy your breakfast and the view of the towering, thick straight-trunked trees of the wood. You settle for another bite of fruit that gushes pulp and juice that stickies the corner of your lips.

Zerah huffs, rolling his eyes before pointedly looking away from you. Generally, he’s not childish, but he has moments like this where he’s bashful like a young girl.

You hide a laugh behind the remnants of your peach, held to your lips.

...

When Lord Kusanali assigned you and ‘Hat Guy’ together, to complete some private research on her behalf, you were more than shocked. You’d only recently returned back to the Akademiya following Azar’s fall (personally invited back, by the Lord herself) when you received a summons and an assignment.

‘Hat Guy’ was introduced to you as Lord Kusanali’s ‘friend’, but you could tell from the way he bristled at the description that it wasn’t entirely accurate. The Lord was all too happy to hand you both stuffed envelopes with her requests. Open-ended things, really. Nothing specific, more of a call to explore with explicit instructions to note what you find interesting. You and your new companion were both from Vahumana, though Lord Kusanali noted that you were certain to have very different perspectives.

(She wasn’t kidding.)

Your companion was neutrally nihilistic, and believed in the worst of people in most cases. It was shocking he studied within Vahumana and spent his energy writing theses on human nature when his thoughts tended to be so… defeatist.

It didn’t take you long to put together that Lord Kusanali’s ward is not human.

It’s not just his specific brand of pessimism that gives him around. You brushed your hand against his while walking and it was cold. It should’ve been hot and sticky with the rainforest drizzle, but instead it was cold and wet, like a ceramic glass beading condensation.

(He scowls when you touch him. Tells you to watch yourself. You are starting to understand why.)

He looks too perfect, you note after a while. His skin is devoid of imperfections, too smooth. Like it was manufactured and not grown cell by cell. He doesn’t tire, and rarely eats or sleeps. Most unsettling is that he can remain motionless for hours. You’ve only witnessed it, on the few nights you couldn’t sleep, and kept yourself entertained by watching the lack of breath in his chest and his rigid, unchanging posture through the night and rain.

Your companion fascinates you.

He seems... indifferent about you. Such indifference has been tempered down from annoyance, you think. You don’t think Zerah liked you much at all during the first weeks of your research. Perhaps some of that is his demeanor, and perhaps some of it is your own unfamiliarity with his quirks. You two didn’t know how to walk in step, and in those early days of your travels, your companion didn’t seem interested in learning your rhythm. You stumbled and struggled to keep up with his.

It’s on a single night, you think, that Zerah began to become intrigued with you.

...

“Hey, Zerah? Can you throw another log onto the fire?” You ask, peeling a root vegetable with a paring knife.

Begrudgingly, he tosses a log into the fire and then frowns, “Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“‘Zerah’.”

“Because Hat Guy certainly isn’t your real name, and it’s too goofy to fit you well,” You hum and toss the cubes into a simmering pot. “Figured you needed a name that suited you better.”

“And ‘Zerah’ does? That hardly sounds like a name.” He scowls at you as you stir.

“It is, promise.” You lick the spoon and grimace. Fishing into your bag, you pull forth a block of salt and a small grater on a keyring. “It’s a name from a storybook I used to read when I was little.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” You stir in a few more tablespoons of black pepper. “It was one of several in an anthology my father purchased in the desert. It was falling apart when he got it, and disintegrated by the time I was old enough to do any proper digger about it.”

“I know plenty of old stories.” Your companion huffs as you spoon your dinner into two bowls. “I don’t know any with that name.”

“Would you like me to enlighten you, then?” You hand him a bowl and collapsible spoon with a raised eyebrow.

He takes the bowl and glares. So, yes.

“It was this story about a little boy born into a dark world, full of sand and dunes.” You remember the illustrations vividly. Worn, illuminated pages fit with four-pointed stars on the corners. “He was nameless, and so he asked the earth what his name should be, and it said to go out and look for his name.”

“So the little boy traveled his whole world— dark and scary and lonely as it was. He met friends and creatures who he asked to name him, but they all told him to keep looking. Eventually, he came to an oasis with a Heron wading in its center. The boy asked the heron, ‘What am I to be? What will I be named?’ and the Heron said ‘You must ask the sun, it will know your name.’”

“But, there was no sun. So the little boy had to go even further, upwards, until the world turned upside down, and turned right-side up again. There, he found the sun, brighter and more luminous than anything he’d ever seen, and asked it what his name should be. And the sun said, ‘You have traveled the world over for a name, yet you are only beginning.’ The sun took letters the little boy taught him and gave him the name ‘Zerah’, which the sun said is the sound the world makes every morning with dawn.”

“... That’s abstract.” Zerah huffs, and ignores the very delicious bowl of curry in his hands. “And the name doesn’t sound like common. Or any other language I know of.”

“I’ve never been able to find anything on it.” You shrug. It’s not like you spent much time looking. “I figured it was some poor translation of an old Deshretini fable. Regardless, you’re Zerah.”

“... Like dawn.”

“Like dawn.” You nod. “Because you’re always staying up so late until the sun rises. Seriously, don’t you get tired? How does your skin stay so perfect, despite the lack of sleep?”

“You’re insufferable.” Zerah rolls his eyes with a growl. “Is that really your reasoning? How juvenile.”

“I think it’s perfectly acceptable.” You speak around a mouthful. “If it bothers you, I’ll call you Hat Guy, Hat Guy.”

Your companion stares at you, then laughs under his breath and a click of his tongue. “It’s fine.”

“So I can—”

“It’s fine— I’m going to find more firewood.” There’s still a stack next to your camp ground, but before you can grill him more, he’s gone, hovering up over a ridge and out of sight.

Zerah didn’t touch his dinner.

...

It’s another day, later. Sumeru doesn’t have much for seasons, especially as you near the Wall of Samiel and the desert’s sand and heat creep into Sumeru’s jungle. You and Zerah wander over a ridge while you munch on a dried slice of Harra fruit. It’s bitter, puckering your mouth and making you salivate. You wipe at the corner of your lip.

“You shouldn’t walk and eat.” Zerah says, pushing himself up and over a small ledge. He offers you his hand.

“Why’s that?” You ask, holding the fruit in your mouth and reach for him.

Zerah pulls you up, steadying you and then frowns. A smear of spit from your hand shines on him now. He looks disgusted, wiping it away on his shorts with a grimace.

“Choking hazard.” Your companion grabs you by the wrist. “Wash your damn hands. You’re sticky.”

“A necessary evil.” You shrug as Zerah leads you to a pond nearby. He kneels with you at the water's edge and stares. “A good fruit is worth it.”

“Is it really?” Zerah deadpans as you relent and rinse your hands in the crystalline blue water. You scrub at them with a flat stone you find in the silt and sand.

“Absolutely.” You respond matter-of-factly. You can feel Zerah’s scrutinizing glare. It dawns on you that, perhaps, he truly doesn’t know of such things. “... Have you ever had a perfectly ripe peach?”

“No.” Zerah curls his knees to his chest at the water’s edge. His bottom lip juts out cutely— pouting, almost. As close to such a thing as he would allow himself. “I don’t need to eat.”

“Well do you like eating?” You ask, shaking off the water from your hands and drying the excess with a wipe to your shoulders. You pointedly ignore the expression of mild disgust Zerah wears. “Have you ever enjoyed eating?”

“... I don’t need to answer you.”

“No, you don’t.” You frown. “But, I’d like it if you did. Come on now, don’t be so shy.”

Zerah almost growls at you. It’s cute. He’s so prickly. “I don’t hate eating, but I don’t enjoy it either.”

“What have you enjoyed eating?” You ask, turning to him. “Do you have a favorite dish?”

That makes him pause. He opens his pretty, petal lips, then closes them with a shake of his head. There’s a wistful look in his eye that stops you from prying at such things. Teasing is far different from poking at a past that you know is, perhaps, sensitive.

You don’t think before you act; you reach out a hand to wrap around his and squeeze. Trace your thumb against the too-smooth plane of his palm.

“Tell you what,” You flash him a smile. “Next chance we get, I’ll find us a ripe zaytun peach and I’ll show you how tasty they can be, okay?”

Zerah looks at you. Really looks at you. With his too-perfect skin wrinkling around his gem-cut eyes. He doesn’t like promises— you’ve put this together. Assurance rarely does anything but make him avoidant and hissy. What you’re handing to him now is something— something more tender than what you, as research partners, were assigned to share.

Your companion flexes his fingers in your grip, “... Fine.”

Something feels sticky in your chest— like honey and bee’s wax dripping between your ribs. It makes a sweet smile stretch across your face, one that raises a soft blush on Zerah’s face. He ducks under his hat, and drops your hand, grumbling something about your next destination.

Perhaps, you’re a bit smitten with him as you dash after him, half-skipping.

...

Zerah begins to stick to your side more than he used to.

You’re not sure he knows he is— but, he is. He walks a few paces closer, and sits at your side around the campfire each night, rather than across from you. Rather than hovering outside of your tent and tarp each night, he sits just inside, near your feet.

(You swear, once or twice, that he lays a hand over your ankle. Touches you before drawing away after just a moment.)

One night, Zerah lays down next to you, when you’re half asleep. A drizzle patters against the fabric of the tent as he curls next to you, not touching, but undeniably close. It’s almost unnerving— his lack of heat in this instance. He doesn’t shiver, despite the chill and humidity.

He lays his head on top of his folded hands, nose just inches from yours. You watch him with him with half-lidded eyes, and sleepily debate on whether or not to comment on his... seeking. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? A wanderer who isn’t quite human and doesn’t quite know himself, seeking something from you. Though he doesn’t know what.

You’re not sure either.

“‘Come here,” Your words slur and you lift up your blanket. It’s more than big enough for two. “It looks lonely out there.”

Zerah stiffens up, and scowls, but doesn’t move. “I don’t need a blanket.”

“Not relevant.” You answer, grip slipping. The rain and the darkness of the tent make you so, so sleepy. It doesn’t help that Zerah is so close, always smelling like damp earth and some perfume you can’t recognize.

“I’ll make you colder.” Zerah frowns. “I don’t produce heat under these circumstances.”

“... Not relevant.” You begin to doze off, clinging to wakefulness.

Zerah rolls his eyes, “Why would you want me that close anyways?”

That startles you. “... Because I like you? And I meant it, it looks lonesome without a blanket and a sleeping buddy.”

Zerah is looking at you. It’s piercing and almost violent. The aura of it wakes you up fully, along with the whirring of the air around his Vision. He looks angry, pushing himself up halfway in an instant, before caging you, arms on either side of you, bringing you both nose-to-nose.

Your heart hammers in your chest. You grab one of his wrists and your eyes go wide.

His breath is cold against your cheeks— lips.

“... Zerah?” You say, softly. His lip curls and his hand scrunches into a fist near your ear. The lines of his throat bob with a swallow, and you itch with the urge to bring him closer. Offer him something more than just a blanket and some body heat.

(But, you are dealing with a stray cat after all. It must come to you.)

“You’re... you’re something.” He says it like an accusation. It makes your head spin.

“Am I?” You huff, kicking him lightly. “I’m just trying to sleep and offer you a kindness.”

“Sure.” Zerah says, nearly good-natured and joking. He’s not naive, not at all— you sometimes forget this. Perhaps— perhaps he’s too knowing. The facade slips for a moment, and you see something flash in his eyes that you recognize—

Want.

It’s one you’ve never seen him wear. It makes something in your chest tighten and jolt like you’ve been struck by something electric and live.

You start to say his name, the name you gave him, but he’s already slipped lower. So quickly does he pull the blanket back to bully your legs open and lay between them. He tucks into you with his cheek over your collarbones, cold and smooth. He wraps his arms around your middle. Zerah feels lighter over your chest— or maybe just weighted wrong. Regardless, the move steals your breath, and you’re frozen as he settles on top of you.

He wraps the blanket over the two of you and tangles you together.

“Zerah—” You try to say something, anything.

“Your heart is pounding.” He says, crumbling the fabric of your nightshirt over your chest. “Calm down and go to sleep.”

“You really expect me to?” You laugh, cautiously brushing your hand over his shoulder blades. Zerah shudders.

“Yeah.” Zerah never lays down at night, never sleeps or rests like this. You feel too shocked to move, afraid that if you shift or stir too much, you’ll frighten him away.

Instead, you tentatively stroke a hand over his hair. It’s soft— perfectly silky and shiny. When you scratch behind his ear, his breath catches in the prettiest way. You savor the sound, thrumming on your insides. Zerah buries his nose in the hollow of your throat, the cold wash of his breath fanning over your skin.

“You’re silly.” You laugh, gasping when Zerah drags his nails down your sides. You jolt and squirm with it.

It’s a wonder how you ever fall asleep that night. It must be the motion of Zerah’s fingertips, rubbing over your ribs over your nightclothes. Maybe it’s the odd weight of him that presses over your chest. Perhaps it’s that you’ve become increasingly comfortable with your companion, and his recent proclivity for proximity is something you’ve come to welcome. Enjoy, even.

...

You find the perfect peach sometime later— in the lush valleys near Pardis Dhyai. Zerah is only a pace behind you, and you’ve taken his hand in your own during this part of the trek. His skin feels cool against your own, a blessing in Sumeru’s heat. You want more of him, but you’ll settle for his name, a promise, and the chill of his contact that he’s been giving you more frequently.

There’s a little market set up with wares from the villages of the jungle and the outposts of the desert, congregating by a stream. You both poke around at stalls for a while, side-by-side, never straying too far from one another.

When you do orbit beyond Zerah’s reach, he’s quick to snatch you back. He grumbles under his breath— “stay put” and pinches the skin of your wrist. When you yelp and bat at his shoulder, he only smiles— the smallest, tiniest thing that’s all for you. He pivots within the crowd, always keeping such a particular amount of distance between him and the next person. It’s intentional; when someone brushes to close, Zerah flinches like he’s been burned.

Not you, though. Never you anymore.

It makes you giddy.

There’s a fruit vendor on the outer edge of the market. The stall is overflowing with produce from across Teyvat— though the best of it is all Sumeru’s local specialties. There’s a box with beautifully stacked zaytun peaches, perfectly pink and swollen. Ripe with the heat, and still green and lively near where it once grew from its stem. You inspect them carefully, Zerah hovering near your back. The shade from his hat slants enough to keep you cool.

You pick out a handful of them, one by one. Four in total. Enough to snack on for the next few days. The merchant kindly bundles them for you in beeswax wrap and twine and hands them to you with a smile. Zerah bristles behind you and lays a hand on your lower back. If he really was a stray cat, he’d be hissing. Maybe scratching.

You cow him with a gentle smile before passing the merchant a few coins, throwing in a bouquet of beautiful Sumeru roses and cecilia, all the way from Mondstadt. How could you pass up such a beautiful arrangement? You hand the flowers to Zerah, who fumbles them for a moment before cradling them in the crook of his arm. There’s a flush on his cheek— rosy and pretty.

“We’ve found them.” You tell him as you practically drag him from the market into the meadows beyond, deeper into the jungle. “These are perfect.”

“... The peaches?”

“The peaches.” You blop down on a stump and begin to unfurl the wrapping. “Look how pretty they are— and just ripe enough.”

You poke around in your bag for a knife as Zerah settles next to you. He minces for a beat before you lean into his side.

He stills.

You unsheath your small paring knife, brushing it flat against the fabric of your trousers to clean it. Zerah watches you with rapt attention as you examine each peach until you find the most perfect of the bunch. Pink like an early sunset, with just a bit of give when you squeeze it. You gently pull off the leaves at the top and discard them.

“... You really got the peaches,” says Zerah with an exhale. His shoulders are drawn up.

“Of course I did.” You laugh and knock your head into his bicep. “I’ve been looking since I promised you. Just took a while to find the best ones.”

Zerah makes a noise, something between a grunt and a whine; it’s one you’ve never heard him make. (He’s— he’s been making more of these little noises lately. The other day he actually whimpered while you were detangling his hair with your fingers.) Half a growl even maybe— like a stray who doesn’t know whether to bite your hand or lick it clean.

You feel woozy with it.

Maybe your companion has been getting under your skin more. Vulnerability is a hell of a thing, and receiving any of it from someone as drawn up and closed off as Zerah is an intoxicant in and of itself. The little glimpses of him you’ve come to covet, revel in— catalog and keep. Your research for Lord Kusanali is paramount, yes, but you find it far easier these days to moon over your companion— regardless of whether or not he knows.

“You there?” Zerah asks, taking the paring knife from your hand, then the peach. He cradles it in his palm.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here,” You laugh, shaking your head. You’re lying.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Zerah says and it sounds like he’s pouting. “Tell me how to cut this.”

“Sure,” You respond; you feel like you’re dreaming. It must be the heat getting to you. “There’s a pit, you have to cut around it.”

Zerah digs the blade in. Juice squirts from the incision, stickying his fingers. He frowns, grimacing, “Like this?”

“Just like that.” You don’t mean to sound breathless, but you do anyway. You smoosh your cheek into his bicep.

“You’re being weird.” Zerah snaps, but the bite of his words doesn’t reach you.

You lean closer to him, a smile curling your lips. You feel mischievous, you want to get under his skin— he’s gotten better at holding his own against you, rather than running he tends to contend with you. You can’t ruffle him like you used to, which is truly tragic. Wretched, even.

“Am I?”

Zerah rolls his eyes, huffs, but he can’t hide the flush that’s traveling from his cheeks to his neck. He doesn’t push you away. If anything— he leers closer. He’s combative with you, he always has been, but this feels different. He’s not sparring with you, he’s not running off when you take a joke too far or rib him too close.

He’s retaining proximity, and handing you a slice of the peach.

“Is this right?” Zerah asks as he passes it to you. It’s— it’s juicy, and drips down in between your fingers.

You eat the piece whole and nod, turning away. Your stomach is in knots— it’s almost unpleasant.

“You don’t look like you enjoyed that.”

“I did—” You lie, then tell a truth. “I’ll be honest, it’s not really what I’m focused on. I want to know what you think about it.”

Zerah’s grip tightens around the peach, bruisingly. The flesh gives way around his hand, and you jolt to try and save it.

Zerah jerks it out of the way with a scowl, but keeps his face close to you. Nose-to-nose. Cold breath washing over your lips.

“... Why are you so invested in me eating a stupid peach?” He asks with a lilt in his voice you’ve never heard him use before.

“Because they’re tasty.” You lunge for the peach again, and Zerah pulls it out of the way. “You should enjoy something that tastes good and makes you feel that way.”

You hike yourself up on the stump, on one knee, and stretch to try and grab the fruit from him. The peach bursts with the pressure of his grip, pink flesh spilling from between his fingers. Liquid nectar slicking his palm, trailing down his wrist.

Zerah frowns down at you— you’re sprawled out across his lap— you— you must look obscene.

His cheeks are so red. There’s heat coming from his— chest. Lower abdomen, but only there. You can feel it against his side, feel the thump and whirring of parts that are surely not entirely human.

“Why do you care if I care, Zerah?” A grin curls across your face when you say it.

“Shut up.”

“But, Zerah—”

He’s shaking. Trembling. He tears a chunk of peach from the mess in his hand, intact enough to not fall apart when he shoves it against your lips. He presses, pushes— all you can smell is ripe, sweet fruit and that perfume he always carries with him. You almost kick your feet.

You open your lips, just barely— enough for Zerah to push the morsel inside, and for you to give the lightest suck to his fingers when they withdraw away.

If Zerah were human, he’d be panting. You are.

“Is this fun for you?” He asks, voice sharp. He rips another piece of fruit and repeats, not giving you the time or the space to get a word in.

You’re not sure what response you’d give him, if you could. Fun, isn’t quite the right word. It’s diminutive, perhaps derogatory to him in some way. You feel nothing less than adoring. You’re basking in the attention he gives you, in the quiet but entirely mutual aware of the feeling that’s metastasized from begrudging research partner to this.

Zerah feeds you like that for long enough for your limbs to grow heavy. The chunks he’s tearing out of the peach are getting smaller (like he’s savoring this too, lengthening whatever this exchange is by drawing out the length of time that he can feed you this single peach). They’re more messy.

Juice and pulp coat around your lips. You feel sticky— you’ll need a bath after this. Or at least to wash your face. Zerah’s armguards glisten with the sap they’ve soaked up. He’ll need washing up too.

“Wait—” You catch him by the wrist and force yourself. “You haven’t had any, have you?”

“No.” Zerah swipes over your lips with his thumb. “You’re filthy.”

“It’s your fault,” You lean closer, crawling into his lap.

He stiffens.

For a moment, you think you’ve gone too far. Perhaps the line for him is at ‘lap sitting’ and not at ‘hand-feeding fruit’, and you’ve misjudged the situation. Is this exploratory for him? You don’t know enough about him to make confident assessments of his experience, but perhaps... Perhaps this business with the peaches was innocent. Perhaps the proximity you now have, settled in his lap with your hands on his shoulders, is passing something you hadn’t anticipated.

You’d only been close to cuddle for warmth, right? He only touched you out of a kindness or ease— perhaps a favor to be repaid. Sitting in his lap, sticky and panting—

Before you can backpedal, recant, disengage, Zerah wraps his peach-soaked fingers around your jaw and drags you to kiss him.

It shocks you; a little gasp slips from your lips that Zerah swallows in kind. His hand that was holding the last remnants of the peach and its pit slides along your waist, around your waist to drag you closer. He licks into your mouth and it becomes abundantly clear you panicked assessments were horribly wrong.

He licks the inside of your teeth, sucks on your tongue— it’s obscene. It’s messy, in a way that makes you bury your hands in his hair to tilt his head at a better angle. Bring him closer— hands still frigid but the center of abdomen feels scorching against your own.

You feel drunk when he pulls away, gasping and bracing yourself on his arms. Zerah’s exhales feel too-hot against the skin of your jaw as he drags his lips there, biting, as his nails rake down your sides.

“Is that really the most effective way to eat a peach?” You ask him.

Zerah pulls away, grabs your cheeks, and stares. When you try to speak, he tightens his grip so your lips squish together.

“Really?”

“It’s an honest question.” Your words are garbled.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe, but perhaps I make a fair point.” You fish to the side, within the discarded beeswax wrapping, and grab another peach. “I’m sure kissing me— pardon, ravishing me—”

“Shut up—” Zerah kisses you stupid and quiet again.

“You’re interrupting.” You speak through your headrush and hold a fresh, untouched peach in your palm. “As I was saying, I’m sure ravishing me as you have decided to isn’t the prime way to get a taste of this peach. Get it from the source.”

You hold the whole peach, squeeze it lightly, and take a chomp out of it. No knife required— not slicing, nothing pretty. Just flesh parting around teeth and the juice of it dripping down your chin and wetting your palm. You chew, swallow, and hold the untouched side to his lips. The fruit is sweet, so sweet— the flavor if it lingers on your tongue. You’re sure Zerah can smell. Even if he doesn’t need to breathe, you can feel his heavy inhales and exhales. Maybe his breath is where that smell of his comes from, like incense and crushed petals of a flower you can’t identify clearly.

His hand squeezes around your hip. Hard enough to bruise— harder, and it makes you remember your companion’s strength. He doesn’t have muscles that match with it quite right. It makes you forget.

You gasp when he tugs you closer and takes a bite from the peach, all the way down to the pit. His cheeks remain flushed, stained seemingly, as he chews, and swallows. You watch the bob of his throat as he does.

You’re entranced by him. It’s lovely to be so overt about it.

“... How did you like it?” Your voice sounds dreamy and half-there as his hands slide up and under your shirt.

He thinks for a moment— studying you. Palm skimming down your ribs, stopping to count them. You can feel him do so. The other presses fingertips over your lips, pushing inside your mouth to run over your teeth.

“It was good.” Zerah tugs the fruit from your hand and sets it aside. “I’ll have more of it later.”

“‘Weally?” You exclaim, around his fingers. He jabs the inside of your cheek and your squeal.

“Yes, really.” He sounds softer, for a moment. It makes something in your ache in the best way. “I understand why you wanted me to try it.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, then.” You goad him on. “Why?”

“You’re insatiable.” He groans, bouncing his leg and you subsequently. “Is this not enough?”

“It is ‘enough’,” You assure him (you want to eat him alive.) “Call me greedy, I suppose. I’ll take whatever you give me, Zerah.”

“Are you a glutton, then?”

“Only a scholar. Perhaps a foolish, lovesick one, but nonetheless.”

“... Lovesick?” Zerah’s voice trails, awed. His eyes shine as he grips a hand over his chest. He looks like he might throw up if he’s even capable of such a thing.

“Of course.” And sweetly, you press your sticky lips to his cheek. “I thought that much was obvious, I apologize.”

“Lovesick?” He repeats, this time more incredulous. “Don’t toy with me.”

“I promise, I’m not.” You want to reassure him. “Do you think I’m this shameless with everyone I meet?”

Zerah deadpans. You bat at his chest with a smile on your face that hurts, it’s so wide and full and carefree.

“I can’t be sure.” He huffs.

“Zerah—”

You gave him that name. He lets you use it. That should speak volumes, but perhaps you’ve been negligent to what that means, how he thinks of you. Perhaps you should’ve realized, earlier, what his increased proximity has been communicating to you now.

Fools, both you. Both learning the steps, the lay of the land, just as the Lord of Dendro requested of you. Perhaps not for Sumeru’s changing, cleansed, landscapes, but for each other. An outcast and an inhuman stray.

You kiss him again, just as he leans closer to give you the same, grabbing at the cloth over your heart.

#lore writes #the wanderer x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer reader insert #the wanderer x you #wanderer x you #genshin impact x reader

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yummyyummie · 1 year

Text

Here's some Peaches drawings, based on a piece of writing i wrote, you can read it below :3

A Demon's Visit - wordcount 2381 cw: vore, fulltour, unwilling prey

"So full of despair and anxiety, aren't you dear? Good thing I heard you, we'll get this fixed up, don't fret it, sweet little thing~"

You never quite expected that just calling out to nothing would actually be answered, sure it was genuine, but you would never think that it would work. It just sounds too ridiculous. And yet here you are, held off the ground in the clawed hands of some four legged demon. She had ominously appeared after you had been crying your heart out, feeling like a wreck after a particularly rough day, something finally snapped the camel's back so to speak. Out of the shadows she had approached, and even if she was soft spoken it was still terrifying to have a literal demon standing before you. But you were too emotionally drained to really do much about it, as if it mattered to try and run.

And now she has picked you up so she can actually look you in the eye. Her yellow, faintly glowing eyes don't exactly look back with sympathy, more so they gleam with some morbid eagerness. She gives you a gentle smile, and speaks up again.

"Wouldn't you want to feel a bit better? Just have all those terrible feelings and mean thoughts go away? I could help you, no charge needed~" She offers, it sounds too good to be true, to be honest. Clearly there must be some kind of catch, it's a demon after all.

"Really?" Is all you can muster out, you'd want to ask more but don't have the energy to really say much right now.

"Really~" She slyly responds, grinning back at you. "All I'd ask is to be allowed to do what's needed to get you better, that's it. I'm not interested in much else, truly!" She says moving you a bit closer to her.

You think about it for a moment, you have no clue what it is that she'd do to you. But at the same time you wanted little more than for all these shitty feelings to leave you be, so it did sound tempting. And for nothing in return? It sounded dubious in every regard, really, but your head's not in the right place. You just want things to get better so you can move on with your life, not just keep sulking. So if she can supposedly fix it, might as well give it a shot. Like things can get much worse.

"Do we have a deal~?" She asks, taking a hand off of you, to hold it out for you to shake.

"Sure.." You mutter and lightly shake her big, clawed hand, to which she merrily grins again.

"Wonderful! Now, don't struggle too much dear, it won't hurt a bit. Just… let it happen~" She says, lifting you up closer and closer to her face, getting uncomfortably close. Her breath on your face smells vaguely of some kind of flowery incense or perfume.

And then she opens her mouth. You want to instinctively freak out and pull away, putting your arms up against her face, holding yourself away. She chuckles before closing her mouth and looks at you with a playful smile. You can feel your heartbeat having just started racing, your fear getting some energy back to you. She shakes her head and tisks at you.

"What did I just say? You made a deal, my little sweet, no take-backsies now~" She says, trying to lift you into her mouth again. But you just can't get yourself to calm down, you grip the edges of her mouth again to resist and push back against her trying to get a bite of you. This time she doesn't look so amused, as if getting annoyed with you. Even if it would make sense to not be willing to accept a demon just shoving you into their mouth, you think.

"Darling, if you're gonna be difficult I will have to pacify you, and I'm sure neither of us would enjoy that very much. So be a good little mortal and let me help you!" She growls and opens her mouth before you again, it doesn't exactly ease your nerves hearing her getting frustrated. Against your better judgment, you still struggle, it's hard to beat your fear telling you to fight back. She stops and sighs, you're not making this easy at all. But she appears to fend off her annoyance, trying to remain patient.

"Alright, alright. This isn't working, clearly. Eventually you will grow too tired to struggle, but listen I don't want to spend my whole day waiting for that. So, let's see if calming you down will make this go a bit smoother." She says, as you feel her gently stroking your head. "Breathe in, and it should soothe some of your nerves, little one~" That you can do, probably, you think in response to her request. Her neck puffs up as she takes a deep breath in, and then gently blows a lavender smoke or gas at you. It has that same flowery scent, only much more intensified. At first it feels like it burns your nose and your lungs, but the stinging feeling quickly subsides as the calming effect takes hold. Slowly but surely you feel the tenseness in your body lessen, as if it and your senses all are being softened up. Even her petting is starting to feel quite nice.

"There, that's a little better, isn't it? I'm not out to hurt you, that ain't my style, I just want to help rid you of those pesky, delicious anxieties and distresses of yours~" She coos gently, giving you a little lick across your face. It feels warm, but not as bad as you would've imagined. "Let's get you where you need to be before the temporary calm wears off, yes~?" She says and you meekly nod in response, and she smiles back at you.

This time moving you up to her open maw you don't immediately go to resist, feeling too tired and soothed to fight back. She lets your head rest against her tongue for a moment, you're not sure if she's tasting you or just giving you time to look down into her mouth.

She shoves you in further, careful not to accidentally catch you on any of her sharp fangs. You feel her saliva across your face, and it only gets warmer as you have your head all the way in the back of her mouth. Her throat widens and opens up for you, as she pushes you further and further in. You feel your upper body glide down and push up against the fleshy, warm walls. It becomes hard to move, but you still don't feel all that compelled to struggle. With a gulp she pulls you down more into her, you feel only your legs still in her mouth. With another you are cradled all in her soft, yet tight throat. It takes a moment before she sends you down, you feel as she presses her hand against her neck outside, squishing you within. After a small, content chuckle from her you feel the walls squeeze you downwards with one last loud swallow.

After a short trip of more squeezing you exit into her stomach. Expecting it to be dark and uncomfortable, it surprisingly is glowing a ambiently gentle purple. The surrounding walls are pillowy soft, if it weren't for the wetness and movement it'd almost be like being caught in a big fluffy blanket. But even with how oddly cozy it is, you feel the unease creep in again. As it dawns on you that she just ate you, whole and all. You start to look around frantically, trying to see if there's any way out somehow. But even if you spot the mouth of the stomach, it is pressed firmly shut. Panicking, you press and move your hands around against the walls, trying to find something. Anything. But all you find is hearing her chuckle at you, the sound reverberating strangely hearing her from inside of her. You can't help but be a bit upset at her for finding this funny, it isn't funny one bit, you feel tricked. Out of frustration you kick against the fleshy walls, but it doesn't seem to do much.

As you sit there and grumble angrily and fearfully to yourself, you come to notice that there's not really anything in here that's hurting you. Sure it's wet, but there's no sign of any acid or anything burning your skin. You're just soaked and covered by floral scented liquid, the smell is a little bit calming. Though the longer you wait the closer the soft walls start to encroach, giving you less and less space to move around inside her belly. They squish up against you all around, forcing you into a scrunched up fetal position. Even if tightly snug, you don't feel uncomfortable, oddly enough. The stomach squeezes you gently in almost a rhythm, and you can more clearly hear the sound of the demon's heartbeat when your ears have the walls pressed against them. The sensation causes you to relax, almost feeling like you're being softly cradled. Then you hear her humming, she sounds pretty happy with herself, gently swinging her tummy from side to side. Is she trying to lull you to sleep? You can't quite tell, you're having a hard time focusing at all. The thoughts you're having feel fleeting, being absorbed by her as you continue to be squeezed. Telling the time is incredibly difficult, but you can imagine it just keeps going for hours. Yet you can't get yourself to worry about the things you're missing. It's as if those thoughts are being taken the moment you try to think them.

After a while, however many hours have passed, you feel something change. The walls around you shift and move, tensing up as they push you towards the bottom exit of the stomach. It opens up and you're pushed through. At first you want to think that you're about to be going through her intestines, but your mind doesn't seem to want to care. It doesn't matter, nothing matters now really. You just feel empty, like someone took all your emotions away, or at least the negative ones. And now your brain is having a hard time producing any new negative thoughts, it takes way longer than you have the attention to spare for it.

And then you enter into another fleshy chamber, it appears to be her second stomach. You do recall her having two tummies when you saw her from the outside, before you ever had a clue you'd end up in her. This one is even softer than the last one, and squishes around you keeping you in a lying position. Your senses almost feel overwhelmed at first, with how soft it all is. The comforting smell. The groaning sounds of the belly coming from all around you. Your empty thoughts and feelings are slowly filled with comfort and calmness, you haven't felt this relaxed in forever. You can't think of anything else, it's all your brain wants to care about right now. It's an odd sensation, and again time just moves on without you having a clue for how long.

It's just warmth and softness, a distant heartbeat ringing in your ears, and no way out on your own. Like being stuck in a sleeping bag that wants nothing but for you to feel good. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to let her eat you, your thoughts wander, feeling relief.

But you can't stay here forever. That wasn't a part of the deal.

You feel everything move around you, pushing you forward. Even if you don't want to leave, you have no means of fighting it, your body refuses to act. It just accepts being tugged out from the incredibly comfy chamber, into the fleshy tubes that are the demon's intestines. The constant pulsing surrounding you brings you deeper and deeper.

It just keeps going and going. Will it ever end?

At least it isn't too bad, you still feel quite relaxed. And you didn't die, which you guess she was right about not hurting you. Still not exactly how you expected to spend your …day..? You'll just have to check how much time has actually passed when you get the chance.

Eventually it appears like you have arrived at the end. It is a peculiar experience, not particularly dignified, but it certainly could have gone way worse. You're surprised to find yourself back on the floor of your room, a fair bit soaked, but you feel a whole lot better compared to earlier. Frankly you barely even remember what got you in that state in the first place, it's all dust in the wind now.

You hear the jingling of the demon's golden jewelry as she steps around behind you, and as you're just about to try and get up your vision goes dark, from a bath towel having been dropped over you.

"I'd stick around to play with you more, but I have other matters to attend to. Thanks for the meal, though, lemme just dry you up and I'll be on my way~" She says and ruffles you over with the towel, drying off whatever liquids that are soaking you. "Don't worry, I've just been lazing around in here, mostly. I did have to find something for when you eventually would get out, but surely you don't mind. It would feel rude to leave you all numb and wet laying on the floor for a while."

After getting you dry she picks you up and places you on your bed, you still can't quite get your body to move, so you just lay there watching her tuck you in. She giggles to herself, and strokes your head before she wanders back towards the shadows of the room.

"Don’t try to get upset just to make me come back, y'hear sweetie? If you want me to visit, remember me and I'll probably hear you~" She waves at you, though you can't really wave back.

"Taa-taa for now!" She says before vanishing into the shadows she emerged from way earlier.

#tw vore #v0re #safe vore #soft vore #vore writing #oc peaches #my characters #my art #my writing #just testing stuff out #i enjoy writing and do it from time to time but haven't tried a. writing vore stuff and b. posting my writing #so double test i guess

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wheretheharekissesthefox · 7 months

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Why do you make me feel this way? - Chapter 4: Gift

Astarion knew why everyone had fallen head over heels for Tav. She was sweet and caring, and he'd been a fool to believe that she'd fall for his shameless attempts of seduction.

Gale made goo-goo eyes at her and stumbled over his grandiose words whenever he talked to her.

Halsin looked at her like a cleric at a statue of their deity and told her the sweetest things in the most genuine way.

Karlach was just her joyful self and wrapped Tav into a hug anytime she could since her mechanical heart was stabilised.

Lae'zel showed her affection by making less biting comments and by stopping to look down on Tav.

Shadowheart teased Tav flirtatiously and told her repeatedly how much she values her support and trust.

Wyll acted like an old-fashioned gentleman and thought that shielding Tav from danger was the right way to win her heart.

And Astarion? Astarion had held a dagger against her throat when they'd first met, fed from her every night to be even strong enough to fight at her side, and still struggled with nightmares about Cazador.

Astarion was broken and nobody wanted broken things. Tav would never choose to be his lover, everyone else was much better suited, and Astarion knew it.

Wistfully, the vampire spawn observed how the human bard praised Gale's stew, cooed at Halsin's carved wooden duck, gave Karlach a quick but heartfelt smacking kiss on the cheek, complimented Lae'zel's weapon-sharpening technique, encouraged Shadowheart regarding Shar's trials, commented on Wyll's footwork as he went through his daily training routine, and petted Scratch and the owlbear cup. Astarion's heart ached. Now, Tav walked over to him. The vampire spawn put on a cheerful smile and lilted: "Hello, what can I do for you?"

"Actually, I think I can do something for you for once," Tav replied, looking sincere. "While wandering through the ruins of Shar's temple, I found a couple of interesting books."

"Mh, yes, darling. We all know you love collecting souvenirs."

"You got me there," she chuckled, "but this is for you."

Tav thrusted a dusty tome into his hands.

"The book's about dealing with trauma and pain. I've read the first couple of chapters to see if it could be helpful to you and I think it could be. There are detailed instructions on how to work through unpleasant memories and how to 'digest' them instead of shoving them into the far back of your mind to try to forget them. You should read it and try out the techniques."

Astarion blinked at her dumbly.

"You want me to read a self-help book to 'get over' the torture that I endured for two hundred years?"

"Uhm, if you put it that way, it sounds tactless," Tav muttered and averted her gaze.

Astarion felt like a jerk, thus, he spoke his next words more softly: "I understand that you're trying to help, so, thank you. I can use a new, stimulating bedtime reading."

His undead heart skipped a beat when Tav beamed at him.

"Good. That's good."

Her hand lingered on his forearm for a bit longer than necessary before she turned around with flushed cheek. Astarion watched the bard go, holding her gift close to his chest. He desperately wished for the book to work like magic.

"Hm, your presence makes her blush like a peach that turns pink in the sunlight," mused Halsin.

Astarion jumped when the druid suddenly stood behind him and could barely hold back a startled squeak. The wood elf chuckled amused.

"No need to be alarmed, Astarion. It wasn't my intention to sneak up on you."

"But you did," replied the addressed huffily.

Halsin chuckled again, a rich, warm rumble from deep in his broad chest. Astarion imagined how cosy Tav would look spread out on that hairy torso. Next to the druid, she almost seemed dainty. The polar opposite of how she looked next to Astarion. The latter found the thought of being picked up by her alluring though – and rather hot.

Halsin cleared his throat und Astarion realised his mind had drifted away while his eyes were still staring at the druid's chest. Why was the wood elf so much taller, broader, and bigger than him? Astarion pursed his lips, slightly peeved.

"I do feel flattered by your attention, but it's a bit unnerving that you're so quiet," Halsin told him. His tone was warm, his eyes soft, and his smile genuine.

"Apologies, I was in thoughts," Astarion replied, truthfully. "Now, excuse me, druid, I have a book to read."

When he made his way past Halsin, the latter murmured: "Tav likes you."

"Obviously. Everyone likes me," the vampire spawn spoke with a wink.

The other man sighed.

"That's not what I meant. She... She has a big heart and you take up a lot of space in it. Cherish such a gift, Astarion."

The vampire spawn gaped after Halsin who walked deeper into the temple ruins to collect flammable objects to fuel their campfire.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #halsin #karlach #karlach cliffgate #lae'zel #shadowheart #tav #wyll #wyll ravengard #scratch #owlbear cup

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honeybear-yammy · 2 years

Text

Let's Make A Deal | Barry

Warnings: cursing, smut, mention of drugs, fingering, unprotected sex, teasing, degrading kink, oral sex, orgasm denial

Pairings: Barry x Female Kook Reader

Summary: In which Y/N goes to Barry for her fix but, she ends up paying Barry in another way.

You waited in Barry’s trailer for him to get your weed. You use to have a hard time trying to buy weed from people for prices that weren’t crazy, even though you were a Kook. Rafe suggested that you should go to Barry and you decided to try him out. Barry came back out with the weed and looked at you with a smirk.

“Y'know what, you’re a pretty thing thing so, I’ll give you a discount just for that.” Barry winked at you. You smirked a little. “Well thank you, I accept that offer.” You said with a smirk as you looked through your purse looking for your wallet. You knew it had to be in there, where else would it have been? Barry watched you and corked his brow and you just gave him a smile and kept rummaging through your bag.

Shit… you forgot your wallet. “So.. I have a little problem..” You said with a small smile. “What is it peach?” He asked. “I- well.. I forgot my wallet..” You sighed. “Well you can’t expect to get this shit for free.” Barry said. “No I know, I know..” You sighed. “Look, I can go run and get my wallet then come back, I won’t even take the weed with me so you know I’m not lying.” You said.

“I have a better idea sweet thing.” Barry said with a smirk. “And that is?” You asked. “Instead of running and getting your wallet… you let me get a taste of that pretty little pussy.” Barry said. “You want to fuck me as my payment for my drugs?” You asked. “You got it sweet thing. What do you say?” Barry asked.

“I mean… okay..” You said acting like you weren’t that interested, which was an obvious lie. You have imagined more than once of how it would feel to have Barry fuck you senseless. It’s something you have wanted for awhile. Barry looked at you with a smirk. “You’re a little slut aren’t you?” He smirked. “Only for you Barry..” You smirked a little. Barry bit his lip studying you. “Yeah, you gonna be my little cumslut tonight?” Barry smirked biting his lip.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be Barry..” You smirked. Barry pulled you over and kissed you roughly. You put your hands through his hair and tugged a little. Barry let out a small grunt when you tugged on his hair. He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you into his bedroom before tossing you onto his bed. Your spine hit the mattress as he crawled on top of you and kissed you again. Barry tugged off your dress revealing that you were not wearing a bra, so you were laying there in just your thong.

“So fucking pretty..” Barry said with a smirk as he got to work on your tits. You gasped and put your hands through his hair as he left wet kisses all over your breasts, surly leaving marks. He sucked on each nipple before trailing wet kisses down your stomach. He tapped your hips signaling you to raise your hips and you did so. Barry pulled your thong off and smirked when he got a good look at your wet center.

“Jesus y/n, you’re fucking soaked.” He smirked swiping a finger through your wet folds and hummed slightly. Barry began to rub and play with your bud with his fingers making you moan out. “Such a little slut for me.” He smirked. Barry pulled you to the end of the bed and got on his knees and began to eat you out. You moaned out as his tongue flicked your clit around. Barry shoved one finger into you and began to finger you quite quickly. You moaned out and you could already feel the knot forming in your stomach.

You clenched around his finger but, Barry pulled his finger out of you and stood up. You whined at loss of contact. “Barry, let me cum.” You whined. Barry chuckled. “No pretty girl, you’re not allowed to cum unless your on my cock.” He smirked. “I- but-” You went to talk but he cut you off. “Get up off the bed and on your fucking knees now!” He ordered. You did as you were told and got onto your knees. Barry got his clothes off and he aligned his dick with your mouth. “Open your slutty mouth.” He growled. You opened your mouth and he shoved his thick cock into your mouth.

You moaned making him groan from the vibrations. You took as much of his length in as you could and pumped the rest of his length with your hand. Barry groaned out and put his hands in your hair making a makeshift ponytail before bobbing your head on his cock. You gagged a few times when his cock reached the back of your throat but, you fucking loved the feeling.

Barry bobbed your head faster on his cock, you could tell he was close. You hollowed your cheeks so you could take more of him in. His cock began to twitch inside of you as he shot his load into the back of your throat. You swallowed his load then he grabbed your chin and tilted your head up to look at him.

“Open.” Barry said. You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. He checked to make sure that you swallowed his cum and when he saw you did he spat into your mouth and closed your mouth for you. “Swallow.” He said. You did as you were told and he smirked.

Barry pulled you back up by you hair and tossed you back onto the bed. He flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you up by your hips to be in doggy style. He spat on his cock and rubbed his spit along his cock then aligned his cock with your pussy.

Barry thrusted in roughly making you gasp loudly. He thrusted into you roughly as you moaned out loudly. He tugged you up by your hair so your back was pressed against his chest making you gasp. You held onto the headboard for support as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Tell me I have a big cock.” Barry growled into your ear. “Fuck Barry! You have such a big cock, it’s so fucking big!” You moaned out. “Yeah, you like my cock you little whore?” Barry asked. “Fuck yes Barry!” You moaned out. “Good girl.” Barry growled. You could feel a knot bubbling in your stomach. “Fuck Barry, I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum baby!” You moaned out. “Fuck yes, cum all over my cock baby.” Barry growled and reached his free hand down to rub your clit. You eyes rolled back as you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you and you came on his cock. You clenched around his cock and you could feel him twitching inside of you.

“Come on baby, milk me for all I’ve got.” Barry said as you clenched around his cock more. Barry shot his load into your pussy and let go of you. You fell onto the bed gasping and catching your breath. Barry pulled out of you and laid beside you. “Fuck that was amazing.” He said. “It was..” You said with a giggle. “Here is your weed.” Barry said tossing the little baggy to you. You caught it and smirked. “Thanks.” You said. “We will have to do payments like this more often.” Barry said with a smirk.

Author's Note: tysm for reading!

Taglist ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

@gillybear17 @ceceswriting @drewbooooo @lovedetlost @luversgirl @my-baexht-ls @n-kkpoly @vashappeningkevin @onmykneesforrafe

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prof-peach · 1 year

Note

Hi,

I'm making a dnd campaign with a pokemon module of 5e and wanted to use a bit edited version of Dotaku Island, Prof. Peach and the crew cause I like your headcannons and work nice with my idea of the inner workings of the Pokemon world.

Is it okay to use them?

It's a campaign with friends and we're not making any profit from it, but still wanted to ask cause now more than ever artist consent is important (even when nothing about this is goong online so normally people woukdn't ask, but I also wanted to say I've been a huge fan of your work for a long time so two birds with one stone ig).

Either way, thanks for showing your work to us here on tumblr and hope this ask isn't too weird :)

Haha sure go for it, I’m chill with non-profit use, and if you ever do post junk let me know so I can snoop.

Fun notes for anyone who may be inclined to do this: THESE DO NOT NEED TO BE USED NOR FOLLOWED, PICK AND CHOOSE IF YOU PREFER.

North is off limits, no exceptions. Being caught there will get you removed from the island on the first ship back to your original region. You will struggle to return here if found in the north. Patrols line the fences to make sure no one goes in, night and day.

Players will take damage if they try to touch peach in any way. Treat her as a high level monk/Druid, who 1000% will throw hands with u and your Pokemon given a good reason. Cold and distant to approach, pawns players off to other staff at any given opportunity. A hermit who will humour you if you can appeal to her better nature, or great desire to fight things. You may lose but it’s the trying that counts.

Wisdom saves (DC28) with Val if you try to touch her. Not only will you gain force damage if you succeed (half damage) or fail (full damage) to lay hands on her, but you’ll see horrifying illusions for a minute relating to loved ones. Frightened condition until a long rest, compelling you not to approach further. I cannot stress this enough. Penalise players for trying to touch her, peach will bluntly warn you once, after that you’re on your own.

Grey regularly hands out handy snacks that may help heal or buff teams. He is warm and open, a good person to approach for hints and tips. Notably found in his labs or out running errands, he’s always kind and gentle, unless that is you threaten his home or his loved ones in a severe way. He is scarier than peach when he’s pushed too hard.

Plenty of staff roam around to offer aid or information, ranging from gardeners, cleaners, shop staff, and specialist keepers who maintain the visitors sections.

A groomers, cafe, food stands, daycare, small fairground with rides and games, a hotel, lighthouse, port, greenhouses and of course multiple lab and practical spaces exist, amongst other interesting buildings.

The resident ranger can offer assistance but she is known to stay quite busy, and so getting her attention may prove difficult if it’s a trivial issue.

Adoption zones are the only approved areas to catch Pokemon, and even then it’s a process that requires a test and paperwork, so everyone involved is able to provide adequate care to the mons in question, and so they know any pre existing conditions.

The islands purpose is recovery, so human needs come in second. The Pokemon will always come first, a fact some visitors may have issue with. The staff will not care and continue to do their job without concern for this.

Year round events make the island busy and people are welcomed to join in with whatever’s going on, be it chilli cooking contests, fairs, pageants, board rental for the sweet ocean waves, or watching a migration pass by. There’s always something to do!

This is all optional, just have fun with it, and I hope your players enjoy! If they ask about it, redirect them to the blog so they can dive on into the content.

#prof.peach #ooc

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shootsun · 2 years

Note

Shadowpeach hit with a love potion

okay so my personal hc is that... nothing would happen, but i know that's not what you were really asking for so I'm gonna write that one and post it later

tw: alcohol, intoxicated adults, dubious consent (because of intoxication/love potion), suggestive

----------

Clutching a peach flavoured cooler to his chest, Wukong manages to stumble to the wall without keeling over. A small feat in and of itself, and one he rightly calls a victory in his head.

Once he’s slumped against the gilded gold wall, he glares out at the celestial host whirling around the hall, making small talk, trading barbs and picking at old wounds, all with sly smiles and sweet-sounding words, coated in poison and politics.

In other words, the centennial heavenly party; one he’d been banned from for the past thousand years or so, give or take three centuries. For good reason too, he was sure. But unfortunately, he can’t really remember it because the last big party he hadn’t been invited to keeps popping into his mind at inopportune times, damn near giving him a panic attack every two seconds.

Erlang laughs from somewhere deep in the midst of the swarm of celestials, and Wukong scowls as he shudders. That three-eyed asshole had brought his dog to the party, and the mutt had almost chased him up a pillar before Erlang had whistled for it to heel.

He hates parties, he hates Heaven, he regrets even stepping foot back in the Jade Emperor’s palace. Wukong takes another swig of his cooler and almost laughs when he recognizes the tang of immortality on his tongue.

Leave it to the gods to come up with a way to imbue immortality into shitty booze for a party. Paranoid death fearing bastards, the lot of them. Although, he’s not any better.

Wukong shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts before he’s led down yet another path filled with bad memories and sour moments. He downs the rest of his cooler and looks at the bottle with mild distaste.

“Ya ’know, I never took you for a wall flower,” A voice interrupts his solitude, and Wukong turns to see an unfamiliar god lounging a few feet beside him.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” He tries not to slur, and the god laughs.

“We’ve not met before, no.” The god admits. “I’m just some small fry deity, but you can call me Tianbao.”

“Pleasure. ‘M Sun Wu-” He starts, but the god just laughs again.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but your reputation greatly proceeds you. I’d be surprised if anyone here didn’t know who you are.” Tianbao tilts his head with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Right.” Wukong mutters.

“I just wanted to say hello, and to, well…give you this.” Tianbao holds out a champagne flute, and inside dances a shimmering gold wine, one that looks like liquid sunlight.

Wukong gingerly takes the glass by the stem, and hopes it doesn’t shatter between his clumsy fingers as he scrutinizes the sparkling wine.

“Why?” He looks back up to Tianbao, and the god blinks in surprise.

“You looked like you needed it.” Was all the god said before he turned, giving a wave as he slipped back into the throng of deities.

‘That…certainly was interesting.’ he thinks to himself as he rubs the thin glass between his fingers absentmindedly.

With a shrug, he puts the cool glass to his lips and tips his head back, swallowing the contents of the flute in one fluid motion.

Instantly, it feels like butterflies have entered his bloodstream, and he lets out a giggle before he slaps a hand over his mouth.

Wukong eyes the empty glass once more before placing it on one of the nearby tables with a muted tink.

He spins back to his hiding spot, almost hopping with how light he feels, and places his hands on the gold foil to stop himself from face planting into the wall.

The drunk monkey giggles again. As he sets back to once more recline against the wall, the shadows closest to him seem to pool and thrum with violet magic.

Wukong furrows his brows as he stares, perplexed at the shadow portal inching wider beside him, until a dark furred hand slinks out and swipes one of the puff pastries off the buffet table next to him.

He snorts quietly. Of course, Macaque would have the balls to steal from Heaven’s table. He decides to watch a moment more, a small plan quietly forming in his head.

A few more pastries quickly follow the first, and then a tiny plate loaded with pork buns disappears into the shadows. It’s only when a flute of wine, identical to the one he’d downed not minutes before, slinks into the shadow portal that he decides to intervene.

Quickly, he loads up a plate with all the things he’s seen Macaque sequester away, and flitches two more glasses of wine before he waits patiently as the still swirling portal.

Macaque’s hand once more emerges, and deposits the now empty champagne flute on the buffet table before Wukong grips the demon’s wrist and lets himself be yanked forward.

He closes his eyes as he’s engulfed in shadows, and lands solidly on his back in a pile of hay.

When he opens his eyes, a small nicker greets him, and Wukong realizes exactly where he is as he stares up at the wooden ceiling of the heavenly stables.

He almost laughs; this is exactly where he was for most of the celestial parties, what were the odds he’d end up here again?

The plate of goodies lay undisturbed on his chest, and the wine had mostly remained in its glasses, but a small amount coats his fingers, so Wukong switches hands and licks the wayward alcohol off his fur.

“What are you doing?” Macaque’s voice breaks through his mindless haze, and Wukong inhales sharply, remembering he’d had some semblance of a plan before he got distracted.

“Party was getting boring.” He shrugs, sitting up slowly, carefully moving the plate to the side. “Figured I’d spend it with someone who was actually good company.”

Macaque blinks at him with wide eyes, and Wukong notices with a twinge of fondness that he’d gotten cream from one of the puff pastries smeared on the side of his mouth.

He leans forward slowly, and Macaque freezes as he raises his hand until he cups the demon’s face, and gently thumbs away the bit of wayward dessert before bringing it back to his own mouth and tasting the vanilla-y flavour.

“You’re such a messy eater.” Wukong shakes his head, and Macaque sputters, his face turning a blistering shade of red.

“Shut up! I wasn’t exactly expecting anyone to watch me eat,” Macaque scowls, his hand coming up to wipe at the already cleaned spot at the corner of his mouth.

“Whatever lets you sleep at night,” The god shakes his head with a smile and holds one of his stolen glasses out for the demon before him.

Macaque carefully takes the wine, and before Wukong can say anything, snatches one of the puff pastries off the plate by Wukong’s side.

“Hungry?” The god raises an eyebrow and Macaque glares at him, his cheek cutely loaded with dessert.

“You try living off mortal food for a few centuries.” Macaque retorts.

“The shit they put into their bodies, ugh.” The demon shudders as Wukong laughs.

“Can’t say I would try that particular diet.” He admits. “I think I’d much prefer just…transformed hair.”

“Like you don’t do that already.” Macaque huffs. “Last I heard, the only real thing you ate was some form of peach.”

“Oh, that sweet kid and his big mouth,” Wukong grimaces.

“He’s definitely your kid.” Macaque agrees.

They fall quiet for a moment, the only noise coming from the celestial horses in the stalls around them.

“Thanks for the, uh, wine.” Macaque lifts his glass, already half empty. “And the food too, I guess.”

“Thanks for pulling me out of the party.” Wukong hums. His own glass isn’t faring much better than Macaque’s, and with every sip of the golden wine, his heart feels lighter.

He can’t help staring at Macaque, how he’s splayed out in the hay, his clothes rumpled and his tunic half undone, leaving some of his chest peeking out.

“Like what you see?” Macaque teases, canting his legs in a more enticing angle.

Wukong swallows thickly before whispering, “Yeah, I really do.”

“You gonna do anything about it or just sit there and stare?” The demon raises his chin and smirks at the god.

His wine glass rolls forgotten in the hay as he moves, throwing one leg over Macaque’s lap and pulling the dark furred monkey close by the front of his robes.

The god growls as he bites at Macaque’s lips, and the demon threads a hand through his hair before tugging at the strands.

Greedy hands and sharp claws rend delicately embroidered fabric to shreds, leaving both parties half clothed and panting by the time they break for air.

Macaque grins through red swollen lips, his eyes half lidded and filled with desire as he moves forward to capture Wukong’s mouth again.

Wukong lets Macaque push him down into the hay, and closes his eyes with a low moan as Macaque slowly kisses his way down the god’s neck.

“Mac-Macaque,” He mutters and pulls on dark fur.

“Please don’t tell me to stop,” A chin is propped up on his chest, and he can feel Macaque’s breath ghost across his fur.

“No,” Wukong breathes, “Don’t stop, I was just… I just wanted to say your name.”

There’s a gleam in Macaque’s eyes that he recognizes as a possessive need, and the demon purrs out, “Say my name again.”

“Macaque,” the god whispers, and the demon grins, wicked and sanguine before lavishing a series of bites to his chest.

“Macaque,” Wukong sighs out, his eyes fluttering shut.

There’s a smirk planted on his collarbone, and then a sharp burst of pain as teeth break skin.

“Macaque!” He yelps, and the demon in question chuckles around his mouthful of flesh.

“We’re just getting started, don’t you worry,” Macaque laughs.

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

As the first rays of sunlight breach the stables, Wukong groans and throws an arm over his eyes. His body aches and he wants for nothing more than to go back to sleep.

There’s a rustling by his side, and he ignores it for all of two seconds, until faint memories of the night (and some of the earlier morning) come rushing back.

Wukong bolts up and immediately winces, clutching his head as his hangover makes itself known.

“Stop it. Sleeep.” Macaque groans from beside him, and Wukong ventures a glance down only to tilt his head back up at a breakneck speed, his cheeks flushing furiously.

The dark furred monkey is sprawled in the hay next to him, their legs half entangled, and both of them very very naked.

An arm snakes its way around his waist, and he’s pulled back down onto the hay with a startled noise.

“Just…just for a few more minutes.” Macaque mutters, and Wukong sighs as he closes his eyes.

“A few more minutes. And, and then…we have to get up.” The god yawns.

“Mhmm.” The demon tiredly hums.

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

“Tu’er Shen!” A voice thunders in the Jade Palace, and Tianbao looks over his shoulder.

“Yes?” The god answers sweetly.

“How many glasses of wine did you spike last night?” A court official scolds, clutching a rather rumpled looking scroll.

“Oh, I didn’t spike the wine. That’d be morally reprehensible. I just added a little…emotional truthfulness, ya ’know?” Tianbao laughs, and the official scoffs haughtily.

“Not many are going to see it that way. You’d better lay low for a decade or two.” The official glares at him before stomping off.

The god shrugs and continues down the hall. He can’t help his grin as he passes the stables on his way out of Heaven. At least he helped some of his oldest worshipers get lucky last night.

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pbandjesse · 1 month

Text

I'm on my way back from visiting Jess. And I had such a awesome day. Like seriously I could not have asked for a better Saturday with my best friend.

I slept a lot better last night. I did wake up a couple times. It was hard to fall asleep at first because sweet pea kept biting me and then I pushed him off the bed and I felt bad so I had to go downstairs and give him treats. But I was able to sleep until James left for work. They stopped and gave me a kiss and said goodbye and told me to be safe. I slept in until about 9:00.

When I woke up I texted Jess that I was going to leave at 9:40. And I took a couple extra minutes to wake myself up. I made the bed and it took my time. But I felt really good. I went and got dressed and I wore my new pretty dress that I plan on bringing to gonda. Kind of like as a test run. But it ended up being super comfortable and it stays up and doesn't shift around so I feel very good at it. I just wish it had pockets.

I warmed up one of the biscuits James made the other day and said goodbye to sweet pea and then I was on the road by 9:40. And it's a really nice ride. It's pretty easy. It's an hour 20 and hit any traffic. And I just listened to music and rolled up at Jess's house at 11:00.

She was at the door when I pulled up and we were waving at each other. And I was just so happy to see her. I texted James to let them know that I was safe and then we went inside and she showed me some of her house updates. Including where she pulled the carpet up to reveal the original hardwood. Which is very exciting. And I'm very jealous because I hate our carpets. And we would sit for a little while while she gave me some things that she collected. I brought my fake nose ring so she could try it because she's thinking about getting her septum pierced. And we talked about our plan for the day.

The plan was to go to flower farm to pick tulips. After that we decided we would go walk around the mall and then we would go to Costco and trader Joe's. And in there we would also have a couple meals. So our first stop was going to be brunch.

We took her car and we drove to a diner in swedesboro and it was really good. It was pretty busy but they sat us right away. And our waiter was nice. We got sandwiches and I told her all about the movie last night and we just caught up on stuff. Like we're text ing constantly but sometimes the nuance is lost. And it was just really nice to hear about the dates she's been on and me and James stuff and our plans and some of the Uganda things. And I just was having a wonderful time.

At the end of our meal I went to pay and they were having some Wi-Fi issues so Jess wanted to use the bathroom while we figured that out. And then after I paid I also used the bathroom. And then we drove to the farm. And it was great.

1.5 million flowers. That's what the paperwork said. And I believe it because it was crazy. Rose and Rose and Rose of tulips and daffodils. It was beautiful. And we decided we were going to get the 10 stems for $10 thing that they were doing. Jess wanted to get one of everything and I wanted to get a variety of the purple ones. I just thought that would be fun. So we walked up and down the road trying to pick the best ones and some of them were loud because they had bees inside of them. But it was just a lot of fun figuring out how you pulled them without pulling the bulb up. Just would end up pulling three bulbs by accident I only pulled one. And it was just a beautiful day. And even though there was a lot of people there I didn't feel like we were on top of anyone and while it was windy it was just really beautiful. And after we picked our flowers we would take some pictures and just be silly and sit at the picnic table and just enjoyed being outside.

You would walk over to the farm stand and they had a lot of peach cider products but nothing I was really interested in. Jeff says that the guy that was running the stand was flirting with her and I believe it. She's very cute. And then we went to pay and it was a child at the register which was very funny to me. And we went to find the car. Which was difficult. We struggled to find the car all day. We're not good at remembering where we parked.

Next we went back to the house because for the rest of the day we would take our own cars. It just made more sense because it was in the direction of home for me and we didn't want me to have to pack So we got back to the house and we spent like 45 minutes just chilling on the couch. Playing with Lady Bird. Drinking water. You're both really thirsty after the flower farm. Just surprisingly dehydrating activity. But we chilled for a bit and double checked that we were both still cool with our plan. And then it was time to go.

We both stuck around cars like I said and we drove to the Christiana Mall. I was mostly behind just for the whole time but I did lose her at one point but then I got up at her again and we were waving at each other being silly. And we parked near the Barnes & Noble so we had a pretty solid place to meet in case we didn't get lost. But it ended up being fine.

And man is it cool to go to a not dead mall. This mall was crazy. I haven't been to the small in a very long time. I think I have gone a few times like a decade and a half ago. But the parking lot was fullful and it was busy inside. And it was just so nice to experience that again. Because I was such a mall kid. Like that was my life when I was in high school. And it's the same for Jess so we get to reminisce and this was just a really good mom. And we were doing really good not to buying nonsense. We both did buy some stuff. She got a shirt and I got James a gift. It's a jacket. And I bought hand sanitizers about the bodyworks because I use those all the time now. Trying not to get sick again. And we both went to a special fancy candy shop where we did their fancy pick and mix. And we were very good about staying at our $10 limit. We were both under it.

And we also just had really nice interactions with people. In the stores people just be really nice. There was a baby that tried to hand me a lollipop and then there was a whole like little moment we had together. And we got to see the Easter Bunny. And we went in and out of every store that we were interested in and just telling stories and talking about stuff. We went and airy and I found a bathing suit I liked in the clearance section but they didn't have my size and I was a little bummed about it but that's okay. At least I know kind of know like somewhere I can look. Because I do want to get a new bathing suit this year. But it's not like a need need it's just something I want to look out for.

But we were having a great time. Looking at the calico critters at Barnes & Noble. Going in the Hot topic. Looking at toys and clothing and people. Being together. It was awesome. And once we felt like we had seen everything we wanted to see we decided it was time for dinner.

Just took me to a sushi place that she really enjoys. And I wasn't like particularly hungry. But I'm so glad we went. It was one precious. And two the food was really good.

our waiter Isaiah was very nice. But he brought the food all out very weird order. We ordered at a mommy to come first but it came last. But it was fine. We both got rice hand roll things that are kind of triangular and they both had avocado in them and were wrapped in seaweed. I would love to tell you what they're called but talk to text is not understanding what I'm saying so I'm not going to worry about that. And we also got edamame. And she got me so soup and salmon over rice. Which also has a name but text to talk to text will not write it correctly. So whatever. And then I got a coconut pudding drink. To go at the end it was so good. I told Jesse tasted like a fancy candle and she said that's disgusting. But it was really nice. And I was just having a great time watching people around us and eating my edamame and seeing what everybody else got over here in conversations and just having fun with just. It was great. We make each other laugh and it's a good time. And I said her at one point I'm just having such a nice day I'm having such a good time. And she was like I'm so glad that you're telling me how much fun you're having and if it was anyone else I would say that sounded sarcastic but I know she was being serious because we both like to tell each other when we're having fun. Plus we were both really excited that we were hanging out but we get to be in our own houses later which that is something we both struggle with I think when we have sleepovers is like I'm loving this but I would love to be home. So now that we're closer and we can do these day trips it makes everything just a little easier.

While we were sitting there I had decided that I wanted to go back for the jacket for James. Originally I was going to try to buy it online but then I saw the people were reselling it for like twice what it is in the store and it's not available in the size I wanted on the website. And they had given me a coupon when we were leaving so I was able to get the jacket for 25% off plus they took another $10 off for giving them my email. So I really felt like I won in the long run. though I did not like that we had two backtracking through them all and it was a little bit of a weird spot so we had to go like all the way back around. But whatever. It's not like we were in a rush to go anywhere.

Our next stop was to go to Costco. I told Jess I was excited because I haven't been to Costco in a very long time I thought it would be fun but she's like it is a very stressful. And she's not wrong. There was entirely too many people. But I did have fun. And she bought me a couple things. Including cookie bites that are thin mints. And some street corn dip. And a jam that's really tall. Like it's the jam that we normally buy except that I much larger container. So I'm very excited about that. And we got almost everything on her list. It was fun walking up and down the aisles and seeing all the weird stuff that they sell. There was even a couple things I would absolutely buy but I did not want to spend hundreds of dollars today. Like the screen door that retracts instead of being in the door all the time. But that can be something I investigate later. For now it was just really fun hanging out and doing chores with Jess. I'm so glad that we're able to do that now. That was something we always really enjoyed when we both lived at home with our parents in bucks county. In the end just would end up spending $350 at the Costco. But we were having a blast and she even got to use cell check it at the end. And while she was doing that I went to go wash my hands because I touched something very dusty. And while I'm a dirty gremlin person half the time I don't really want to have dirty Dusty hands.

Are very last stop would be trader Joe's. Just as a lot of her grocery shopping there it turns out because while all grocery stores have gotten expensive and trader Joe's has always been kind of expensive. Trader Joe's is kind of evened out because of all the other grocery stores being expensive in and out are pretty cheap comparatively. And she got two bags of groceries for like $60. So pretty sweet. And it was busy in there but I was having a lot of fun and the staff was really nice. That cashier flirted with just too. Though she says that that is a requirement to work at trader Joe's. She says that being flirty is part of the drop description. I don't know if that's true. But it was very funny when she said it. And I got two very fancy cheeses. One is lemon ricotta which just says people say taste like cheesecake. And I got a sweet heat cheddar that I think James is really going to like. And I got green tea mints and chai tea mints. And I tried to try tea so far and the cardamom is really nice and I don't always like cardamom because I think it tastes like Christmas. But maybe a sweet cardamon would be nice for me.

While we were paying just was telling the cashier that I was just visiting for the day and he was like all excited that our friendship has been able to exist over all the different distances that we've lived apart from each other. And it's just so true. And friendship really is all about the effort that both people put in. And we both put a lot of effort into this friendship. And I think that's just really lovely. I love my friendship with Jess and I love Jess. She's such a wonderful person. And when we were done at trader Joe's she drove me back to my car.

After I moved all my stuff that I purchased back to my car and saw that my tulips were a little wilted We hugged and I promise to tell her when I get home. And that's almost now. It started to rain on my drive back but it wasn't bad. I listen to a podcast and about 25 minutes ago started working on this post. I already had the document pulled up because I knew I would like to do this and finish it before I get home. And I am 1 minute from home now. Tonight I am going to put all my stuff away and hang out with my husband and then tomorrow's Easter. And I don't really have any plans. I kind of want to paint eggs. But I think we only have brown ones. We'll see. I'm not that concerned. I think it will be a really nice day. I hope that you all have a great night and you are taking care of yourselves. Happy Easter everybody. Good night.

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fruit-salad-ship · 1 year

Note

Does peach remember any other Pokémon from her old family home that come to mind like her moms gengar?

She remembers them all, every individual she saw there stayed with her, it’s why she has nightmares a lot.

She remembers her moms gengar being terrifying, putting her in a weird shadow realm alone whenever she messed up. She remembers her chandelure making sure she always felt watched, an ambient nagging drain on her body just to be around it, it’s purpose to weaken anyone close, make them pliable. The stupid delphoxXninetales was spiteful, mean, mocking cocky, and left her with a fierce burn through a redirected attack from Val. The worst was the luxrayXmamoswine, resembling a sabertooth in form, it’s dual type was volatile and it would be very unkind during training, to this day she fears the feeling of electrical attacks or even just static, and it’s one of the reasons she hates the cold with its icy moves.

The aunts had type specialities, ghost and poison, their teams were all made to fight, and were too dangerous to play with or be near without risk. Then there’s Rob. He went through dozens of Pokemon, training them too hard, working them to the bone. The older he got the more he pushed them. His first however was a sandshrew, a sweet little thing he befriended, but one day he made a mistake and that Pokemon went missing. He cried about it for a while to peach, upset that his friend was missing. Peach knew, deep down, it was taken by the adults as a form of discipline. Cass’s first was a sentret, cute, brave, perhaps too brave for the work the kids did. It got eaten by one of the Pokemon his mother trained, she seemed unfazed by this, he however grew cold over bonds made with partners from then on, and took little interest in connecting to any Pokemon he handled from then on.

I could go into the Pokemon peach trained, individually picked by her from a pack and hand raised, each one either being moved on due to her doing a good enough job at raising it, allowing it’s potential to fight to shine, one of the aunts taking it to push further. Every 6 months they’d review the cousins training and pick the strongest one to keep. The ones they didn’t do so well with would be disposed of one way or another, if not fed to another bigger meaner mon, then put down, by her own hands whenever she didn’t have her mon picked by the adults, pushed to do so by her moms beyheem, a hideous mon that would force its way into peoples heads and act for them, felt like you were deep underwater with the pressure it put in your skull, it’s one species she tends to have a lot of trouble with, gets quietly nervous around because of this. Val learnt how to defend peach from psychic types who like to jump into brains and puppet bodies because of this exact mon. It changed them both.

Her home was bad, her upbringing tough, and her memories of home all very bitter. She doesn’t sleep well because she made mistakes, and thinks she should have been better, or done more. She never forgets them, not a single one, remembers their faces, their lives, saw hundreds come and go, and loses sleep over it regularly.

The only exception to this, is Bob, who basically raised her, and sure he was sweet and gentle, somehow untouched by the many generations that came before peach, stayed kind, a sturdy rock in her life. The best boy.

#sad stuff but it’s the story #she’s not come from a good place #fruit salad

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fossil-night · 3 months

Note

Stares at you well do you have peach pit recommendations…

ok actually i've had a ask (from @gnarlyimp) sitting around asking me what my favorite peach pit songs AND ablums are so I'll just give it to you :3

ALBUMS

Being So Normal

first Peach Pit album i listened to in full, has the first Peach Pit song I listened to on it (Being So Normal....little did i know this would become a 3 year long interest), has some of my favorites on there (Chagu's Sideturn, Alrighty Aphrodite) and one of their most not-Peach-Pit-songs, Private Presley and Hot Knifer (in a good way) plus my DREAM song to see them play live (Not Me) (plus how they reuse the bridge lyrics in Black Licorice WOW). Also an awesome story about the title (they were criticized for "being so normal" based off their first EP (Sweet FA) so its especially cool to see how they experimented in this one) Plus this was the documentary era where Mike feeds Chris boiled eggs which is awesome....AND ITS GOT TOMMY'S PARTY WHO COULD FORGET...

2. You and Your Friends/From 2 to 3

I CAN"T PICK OK..........YAYF has some bangers on there + lots of improvement from BSN, I love all the riffs and Shampoo Bottles and Black Licorice are ICONIC....plus the guitar on all the tracks is AMAZING but especially Brian's Movie (and Chris' 12 string guitar), Thrusday, You and Your Friends, Figure 8 and Psychics in LA....

BUT FROM 2 TO 3 holds a special place in my heart....I love the story behind Up Granville's riff (Chris reused it from a song he wrote 15 years ago and it saved the track), it was the first album i was there to see them release, I like the different tone they took with it + Mike's harmonica solo in Look Out! is so so so so awesome....

3. Sweet FA

this one is a bit unfair because it was the first EP/Album they released and it DOES have some iconic ones on there of course (Seventeen, Sweet FA (+ the music videos for these are great)) but its also got......the first version of Drop the Guillotine......ew...

SONGS

ok here comes the hard part....first I'll do honorable mentions that just didn't make the list

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Figure 8 - this one was pretty close, I'd swap it out most likely with Private Presley because they're on the same level (I just love the slow intro in the live performances + the guitar of course)...live version makes me cry everytime i listen to it

Pepsi on the House - this is probably my 10-8th favorite Peach Pit song, big fan of the lyrics anf guitar

Look Out! - love the beginning part, plus the music video is great (Chris fell off the truck while they were recording so instead of panning to a beautiful sirene landscape, it just shows Chris running really fast)...THE HARMONICA SOLO....

honestly From 2 to 3 just in general has some really good songs

Brian's Movie - this one is an EXTREMELY CLOSE 5......the slider/Chris' guitar playing.....the lyrics........Peter in their live video....its all so good

THE FINAL DECISION 1. Hot Knifer

honestly this one hasn't ALWAYS been my top song....but recently, with the addition of Dougal's violin in their live performances AND Chris' beautiful solo has me captivated...plus Peter's vocals and bass playing during the chorus + with the solo is BEAUTIFUL..!!!!! PLUS PLUS PLUS IN RECENT LIVE PERFORMANCES MIKEY'S BEEN PLAYING A HARMONICA SOLO......this song literally could not get better...i kind of doesnt sound like a peach pit song but thats what makes it good..ITS DIFFERENT.....AND IN THIS VIDEO Peter and Chris play together and its so sweet. The world is a beautiful place

2. Up Granville

This one is mainly because its just so beautiful....the music video makes me cry everytime i watch it, I love the slow beginning of the intro and then all the instruments joining at once....the whole thing is about loving your friends.....its the origin of the album cover..the fact that the riff is reused from when Chris was 15 and thats how the whole song came together......WHAT IF I CRIED.....i love hearing the croud sing the chorus too.. thats how its supposed to be heard in my opinion

3. Not Me

some of my favorite aspects of this song are similar to hot knifer (the non-peach pit sound, catchy riff, the lyrics that they reused in Feelin' Low (F*ckboy Blues) will never NOT be cool to me) but i ADORE this distortion and lead up to the solo.....definitely one of my top peach pit solos. Sadly they've never played it live (that i can find anyways) but it seems like SUCH A COOL SONG to see live. but who knows. a man can always hope :) OH AND THE SOUND CLIP IN THE BEGINNING IS GREAT. I love when songs intro with a clip. and the outro is sick as hell

4. Private Presley

pretty similar to Not Me and Hot Knifer in terms of why i like it. its based off Elvis Presely which is cool. Dougal also plays violin in this one......GODDDDD the solo means everything to me. I love seeing them play it live and how much they move around. man and just seeing Chris shred the solo is the most inspring thing in the world...he moves up and down the fretboard like its BUTTER. and the distortion...who could forget

5. Being So Normal/Alrighty Aphrodite

I'm counting this as two because these songs are connected when they preform them live OK......Being So Normal has such an iconic riff and the lyrics are SO FUCKING GOOD..............I <3 the transition from Chris' loop to the bass line like WOW!!!!!!!! + the bass in Alrighty Aphrodite is definitely one of my favorites, plus the solo that Chris does is AWESOME and i love Neil's dancing in their live performances...!!!! ALSO THE TRANSTION FROM RAINING BLOOD TO BEING SO NORMAL IS SOMETHING THAT WILL NEVER NOT BE COOL TO ME....

Grins at You Thanks for asking Scott....i love Peach pit so much❤️ now im going to go listen to their songs a billion times

#peachpitposting #Peach Pit #yayyyyy #asked and answered #softiestyx

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caspianxth · 5 months

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Hi Em! I haven’t had a lot of eggnog but I have fairly decent memories of it. However I was thinking of picking some up at the store a few weeks back so now I’ll have to give it another shot! Also I would definitely want reputation merch too: I dream of the snake ring and the end game peach hoodie.

For today, fun little game idea: if you had to make a christmas ep with five of your favorite (or most tolerated) holiday songs and five favorite artists to cover them, which songs would you match with which artists? As an example, here’s what I’d do:

1. Last Christmas - Rina Sawayama (she’d absolutely sell this)

2. Sleigh Ride - boygenius (I can’t explain this one but it’d be so sweet)

3. Silent Night - Stevie Nicks (just came to me but I need it now)

4. Rockin Around the Christmas Tree - Beyoncé! (I feel like her riffs would be awesome)

5. All I Want for Christmas is You - Taylor (obviously she is not making a Mariah remake but I think she could put a really warm country spin on this! Imagine the earnestness of Timeless/Emma Falls in Love and the sounds of Debut)

This is a long one but I’d love to see what you come up with. And I hope you had a nice day! — your secret santa, ☃️

hi secret santa bestie!!! I much prefer vegan nog to the real thing also works better in frosting in my opinion and I can add some (vegan) milk to cut it so it's not so thick (I don't do that for frosting just when I drink it) it's a fun time. also saur true endgame peach hoodie u are so so so missed but I think I'd wear the black one more u know? but that's just me ur so valid for the endgame peach hoodie I hope u get it some day!!! also same re snake ring such an iconic piece of merch!!

this is such an interesting game hmmm....

I think that sabrina carpenter would absolutely feast covering all santa tell me so that would be fun!!

I think olivia rodrigo would so such a fun rock version of rockin around the christmas tree but I do agree that beyoncé would Kill rockin around the christmas tree I just think w olivia's rock sound a la all american bitch it would go so hard for her u know???

I think that stephen sanchez could do a pretty rockin little saint nick a la his song shake. that would be fun. or he could do a super croony version of it's beginning to look a lot like christmas and I'd love that also!!!!

idk why I put him at fourth this out of order bc it is in the order I am thinking of them noah kahan should absolutely cover glittery by kacey musgraves he'd kill it so hard.

taylor should cover the jo bro's like it's christmas just to take it from joe but also she'd have such a fun time w it I think and then I could replace that version on my playlist with hers skdjgdkjgh

bonus song even tho it just came out conan gray could feast singing buy me presents by sabrina carpenter or cindy lou who!!!

this was a fun game!!!! and I hope u had a good day and u get some nog soon!!! u can always just get one cup without any other milk at starbucks and make sure u like it before u invest in a pint. my struggle is no one else in my house likes it like I wish I could get two chocolate milk box containers full and not a full pint bc I always have too much left 😭but I also need the nog this time of year 😭 anyways I hope u get some soon!!! sorry I responded to this so late bestie <3

#bpacksanta #asks

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doodlebeeberry · 2 years

Text

Sort It Out, Somehow

“Why?” Peach Pit flinched at the high edge in Rae’s voice, high-strung to the point of snapping. She’d hardly even waited for Kerchief to shut the door behind them, leaving them alone in one of the many long-disused classrooms the shuttered campus provided. “Cooking?”, Rae continued, “of all the themes you could’ve picked, you went with cooking?”

In which Rae, Peach Pit, and Kerchief try to climb out of the hole they've dug themselves by digging further down

for objectober day 1- behind the scenes! featuring some blorbos from my brain bickering about cooking shows and the ethics of larceny. comes with a free preface for context, cause unless i get pestered for further details i will probably not talk about these folks for another year lmao

(ao3 link in source)

some of that sweet sweet context for ya, as promised: these three goofs-Peach Pit, Rae, and Kerchief-get blackmailed by a guy they accidentally kinda-but-not-really nearly kill, who threatens to get them arrested for attempted murder if they dont make a tv show and give him the royalties/residuals they get from it. mostly cause he thinks itll be a good way to get a lot of money with little effort, provided it has literally any success. with about a semester of production school experience between them, they proceed to dig themselves a progressively deeper hole trying to make it work. it's all very very silly and nonsensical but i really dont care

just before this, the cast and crew had cornered them at the end of a particularly vague and suspect tour of the contest grounds, threatening to riot if they didn’t get some answers regarding, among other things, what exactly they’d be doing, which at the time the three of them didn’t really know. (this bit is somewhat explained but, just in the interest of clarity, i thought i’d explain here too)

An unusually warm day for the end of March wrapped itself around the city like a much welcome blanket. Its denizens, for the most part, wrapped it tight around them gratefully, savoring the long-absent heat. They trotted through the streets, hither and thither, crowds of objects blocking the sidewalks and flooding the parks like it was a festival. Some took to playing in the grass—or what dried up husks remained, newly unearthed in all its muddy, sodden glory by the melting snow—games of tag and frisbee and other such things that caked their shoes in the kicked-up grime, while others lept for the snow that still remained, scattered piles of slush and near-ice that nicked the ankles of any who dared break through the surface layer, and fashioned it into poorly snowmen or mounds for brutal rounds of king of the hill. Others, still, took to simply trotting through the footpaths slowly, admiring the crocus as it woke. And as the light began to grow low and the shadows long objects settled on stoops and porches and at every last bench to await the dawning evening, before the nightly chill could return.

Rae wished she was one of them. The only thing she wanted, truly, was to take a nice jaunt through the park and cap it off with a visit to the dingy little cafe on the east side that she’d taken to visiting in the early spring. The food itself was only decent, and the ambiance of it interchangeable, but its sparse outdoor seating faced several buildings, each window lined with a box that bloomed with new-spring flowers. To the universal remote, it sounded like a dream.

But instead,

“Why?”

Peach Pit flinched at the high edge in Rae’s voice, high-strung to the point of snapping. She’d hardly even waited for Kerchief to shut the door behind them, leaving them alone in one of the many long-disused classrooms the shuttered campus provided. Though, were she in any mood to consider semantics, she would consider it better to call it a potential newfound set in the studio the campus had very suddenly become.

“Cooking?”, Rae continued, “of all the themes you could’ve picked, you went with cooking?”

“'Theme' isn’t really the word for it,” Kerchief said, drifting closer. All white cloth, red embroidery at the edges, legless and hovering like a bedsheet ghost that scrunched up a bit when uneasy, currently curling inwards a bit at the corners despite the cool ease in her voice. Rae glared at her. Kerchief threw her hands up.

“If we’re gonna be working in tv you might as well get the terminology right.” She leaned on one of the desks, “Not disagreeing with you though. Cooking is a pretty bad choice.”

“It was the only thing I could think of!” Peach Pit piped up, standing tall. Had she any arms, Rae could imagine her throwing them out in a wide gesture. Instead, the old bag around her hip slid down a skosh. Peach pit adjusted it with her knee as she went on,

“There’s a ton of old kitchens here—rich-kid school kitchens! They’ve got every tool in the world, and they’re laid out perfect for this!”

Which, in and of itself, wasn’t untrue. Granad’s School for the Monetarily Gifted was only ever lauded, in particular, for its surprisingly competent cooking program, and in hurriedly shutting the school down following a slew of controversy, faculty had largely neglected to take most of the equipment with them. For the purposes of a cooking competition, having a place like this would be a miracle for a prospective creator.

“Sure, whatever, that’s all fine and good, but we’ll need food for this to work! Lots of it!” Rae began to pace, “We’re already working with practically no budget, not to mention no means of actually getting it here! We haven’t even tested any of that old equipment to make sure it works, we have no idea what allergies everyone might have,”

She continued on and on, back in forth in a straight line, intent, seemingly, on digging a rut into the vinyl floor amidst her harried ramblings. When Rae drew close to her, Kerchief reached over and flicked her in the side of the head.

“Ow,” Rae rubbed her head, “hey!”

“You’re not helping, bud.” Kerchief said, voice flat. Rae grumbled.

“Whatever. I’m not wrong. Peach—”

“I know, I know, just…” Peach Pit, at some point, had begun tapping her foot in thought, looking off at the door, beyond which the scrabbled-together cast and crew were likely ambling about, getting to know the lay of the land just as much as they were getting to know each other. She stopped, looking up at them both.

“Look, they didn’t know anything. I had to tell them something! They were gonna rip us to shreds!”

Which, again, was not untrue. Come evening and the end of the ‘grand’ tour of the grounds, Rae wasn’t entirely confident she’d make it to midnight without being torn limb from limb like a cheap doll in the hands of a seven-year-old, desperate to know how long filming would take, and what the reward was for competing, and what exactly competing entailed. Now, to be fair to Peach and Kerchief and even herself, nobody had bothered to ask any of these questions until after signing the contracts they hadn’t bothered to read.

To be fair to the cast and crew too, though, perhaps telling them they were all contractually obligated to stay on show grounds until they lost or were otherwise fired wasn’t particularly useful in soothing their worries. Rae sighed.

“That doesn't change the fact that we don’t have a plan. Making this up as we go along was fine when it’s just the three of us, but not anymore. How are we gonna make this work?”

A beat of silence settled heavily over them. Rae crunched the numbers in her head. They’d gotten just enough money to pay the cast and crew the absolute minimum, and maybe repair some of the worse-for-ware equipment the network had loaned them. But even if they had the funds, who were they supposed to turn to for a vendor, particularly on such short notice?

“There’s a grocery store a few miles out,” Peach Pit said eventually, “off I-83. One of those wholesale whats-its.”

“So?”

“So, it’s a big store, they probably won’t notice if a few things go missing”

Rae glared at her flatly.

“You’re kidding.” She waited a beat and, when Peach Pit didn’t confirm as much, “You’re kidding!”

“What gave you that impression?”

“Do you know how much we’d need over the course of filming? How often we’d have to go—we’d get caught!”

“Not if we’re careful”

Rae sputtered, looking between Peach and Kerchief like a fish out of water, fumbling to find the logic in her friend’s little fruit stone head. Kerchief shifted, choosing to sit on the desk instead of leaning on it, her corners swaying back and forth where they dangled over the edge, curled up somewhat into themselves even still.

“Honestly, it’s not the worst idea.”

Rae resisted the urge to rip Kerchief to shreds.

“Do not encourage her.”

“Why not? It’s a solution, it’s in budget—”

“It's illegal!”

“I mean,” Peach Pit piped up, “that didn’t stop us from breaking in here, did it?”

Which was, once more, not wrong. They weren’t actually allowed to use the school for filming.

“Or from threatening the network head,” added Kerchief, choosing her words carefully. Rae was quickly getting quite tired of the at least minor truths coming out of her friends’ mouths.

“And you want to add larceny to the list? More crimes don’t exactly negate the rest, you know”

“Of course not!” Peach lept on one of the chairs, trying with little success to meet Rae at eye level, standing tall.

“Look, I don’t like any of this either-neither of us do,” she continued, gesturing vaguely to Kerchief, watching from the side “but we don’t have time to do this the right way. What would you have us do instead?”

“I don’t know, push back the shoot date?”

“The network won't let us break schedule”

“Drop the cooking thing?”

“The crew’ll start asking questions again”

“Call the cops, or a lawyer, or—someone to help us? Like we should’ve done weeks ago?”

“At this point?”

The door creaked. All three visibly jumped, Peach Pit nearly falling off her chair in the process, and turned towards it with a speed unrivaled by light itself. Peeking in from the hall was one of the crew members, a humidifier roughly half filled with water, their once-white plastic yellowed with age and sunlight, lines of condensation traced faintly along the interior of their blue-tinted tank. Rae couldn’t quite recall if they were on lighting or not.

“Hey, um,” they began, “is this a bad time?”

The trio blinked at them. Peach forced her posture to loosen a bit.

“Nope. What’s up?”

“Well, uh,” they opened the door a bit wider, allowing Rae a peek into the hall in all its paint-peeling glory, where she spied two other crew members clustered some feet behind them, watching the exchange.

“Some of us were wondering what the whole bedroom situation is gonna look like,” Nervousness crept into their tone, despite the valleytalk twinge in their voice, “are we just staying on sight, or…? Do you know?”

Peach Pit blinked, then smiled at them, slightly and easily.

“Yeah, of course,” she replied, hopping off the chair, “Let's get that sorted now. Would you bring everyone to the lobby, please? We’ll fill you all in there.”

They scampered off, following a short affirmation. Rae heard them chatter with the other crew members faintly through the door, left slightly ajar.

Peach piped up once more, before Rae could comment, “Kerchief, help me out?”

Looking between the two a moment, Kerchief shrugged,

“Sure”

And slid off the desk.

“Look, if you don’t wanna do that, then fine,” Peach turned to look at Rae, “but I’m trusting you to figure this out before shoot tomorrow. Can you do that?” She asked, as though it were even much of a choice on Rae’s part, let alone a question. Even still, Rae tried,

“Kerchief is the one with industry ties, not me”

“True, but she’s not the moral compass, now is she?” She turned on her toes, heading out the door alongside Kerchief. “Plus, Ms. Master's Degree, you’re smarter than both of us! You’ll figure it out!”

Rae watched her friends disappear down the hall, chittering like birds amongst themselves, likely about the room and board plans they absolutely did not make, if she was to guess. Dust swirled a bit in their wake, twinkling in the final few thin sunbeams slipping in through the tall windows, laid over the empty desks and the grey universal remote, little shadows catching on the edges of her silicone buttons and their bulb poised on the top of her head. The classroom was cold, the heating inactive and, for all they knew, potentially broken. She would’ve much rather been anywhere else. But, heaving out a weary sigh, she sought out a phone and something to write on. She had work to do.

#rae was the fella from my first objectober piece last year! love her so #objectober #objectober 2022 #object show community #object oc #osc #writin and ravin

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