#but their honestly pretty flexible

[whoruntheworld-lesbians]

One of my favorite parts of eah is that there is so much ship potential. Literally everywhere. You throw two names together, I'll have a list of headcanons on your desk by Monday.

[larabar]

girl help i can't draw sonic :(

ill try my best to help !

not a full-body because that would take ages but! these are my thoughts. hope you can get something out of it ?

[puppppppppy]

i feel like. theres designing a character with certain themes and motifs in mind, and then theres making a gijinka for the water bottle on my nightstand

[romanceyourdemons]

it’s great when characters have folding fans as part of their design because you don’t have to draw all of their face if you don’t want to

[mistythedritten]

On the ABO Dream stuff

Dream is an Omega, 100%.

But he chose to be an omega, because he didn’t like being an Alpha, it didn’t fit him, so he transitioned to an Omega.

Basically, man’s is trans.

[orcelito]

hey since i have access to all my phone's photos much more easily, check out my old violin

got it from my great uncle, who said it belonged to His grandpa. so we r looking at like 4 generations up here. he gave it to me in 2010 ish bc im the only person in the family that plays violin lol. & being in middle school, i named it Star :')

it still plays well, too! not my default for when i play bc i use my newer violin for that. but i still value her greatly

[sysig]

Those quick-jumps out of prison leave something to be desired... (P1 | P2 | P3) (Patreon)

[erabundus]

❝  is  this  simple  door  really  giving  you  that  much  trouble?  or  are  you  just  terrible  at  picking  locks?  ❞  ren  doesn't  know,  and  he  doesn't  particularly  care.  his  patience  is  WANING  in  any  case  —  and  it's  clear  from  the  tight  grit  of  his  jaw,  to  the  way  fingers  dig  increasingly  harsh  into  his  biceps.  there  is  DISAPPOINTMENT  etched  in  every  inch  of  that  doll-like  face.  ❝  i  could  get  it  open  for  you.  ❞  the  wanderer  offers  after  a  moment.   ❝  although,  i  can't  promise  you'll  agree  with  my  METHODS ...  ❞

@drolliic &&. liked for a SMALL STARTER.

[gailynovelry]

Progress on the Shadow Herald epub; restored!

[subarulesbian]

so day 1 of physical therapy was great i have really good range of motion already and my knee like immediately felt improved after just the one session. obv it's still a very long way to go until i'm back doing everything i was before but this first step has gone really well

[fingertipsmp3]

Also I got a job interview and I’m really in two minds about it

[caeca-iustitia]

Vincent wasn’t entirely sure what kind of weapon they would settle on when they joined the Turks. 

On one hand, they had plenty of experience with guns and were widely considered the best shot in the company.

On the other, however, they felt as if guns would be too predictable. 

In the end, they settled on wielding a scythe with as much deadly precision as one would expect from someone like Vincent. Their lithe build and incredible flexibility allowed them to fully utilise their chosen weapon in a hand-to-hand combat scenario.

This simple choice meant that a lot of the older, more experienced Turks had to get used to a completely new moveset when sparring. Low sweeps, powerful swings, underhanded tactics and a brutal downward strike that cleaved people in half like a hot knife through butter. 

So impactful on the combat sphere of ShinRa was Vincent that they had an entire simulation added to the VR Combat Simulator based solely around their swift, powerful strikes with the scythe they had affectionately named ‘Agdayne’. Their combat simulation has had few true victors and many have been worn down by the seemingly endless stamina of the hologram.

This scythe was often used in combination with Vincent’s incredibly acrobatic skills, their shadow-walking abilities and their Limit Break to create a potent cocktail of sharply bladed death.

Yet, they continued to throw everything into imbalance by wielding their scythe and a pistol in tandem to truly make a combat style that was purely and simply just inescapable death. They weren’t satisfied until the chaos they caused with their fighting style made even Verdot, their Turk partner and best friend, weep with despair at needing to spar with them.

Their favourite move to pull was allowing an enemy to think they had the upper hand before slamming the end of the handle into their opponent's neck, winding and/or choking them, before either dropping them with a vicious kick to the head or using the blade of their scythe to separate their head from their shoulders.

In more modern times, Vincent primarily uses guns and their powerful hand-to-hand combat skills in combination with their monster's abilities. 

However, they have recently discovered that their shadows can be manipulated into any weapon they wish and their basic instinct was to return to their favoured weapon of a scythe. This one, dubbed ‘Great Finale’ was sharper than ‘Agdayne’ ever was and would never dull. It allows Vincent to use their advanced mobility to chain attacks together in infinitely more confusing and complex combinations.

[ambersky0319]

Yknow I'm looking at my schedule for my fall semester and like

I could just be expecting too much from myself

But

I really do think I can handle 1-2 part time jobs (or internships) on top of this

Like

M-Th I'd be on campus generally from 9am (realistically 8am bc of transit) to 4pm, but Monday/Wednesday I have literally 5 hours between my two classes - so with an Uber I could probably do a short shift somewhere those days

On Fridays I have just 1 class at 3pm

And I'm perfectly happy to work over the weekend

[grison-in-space]

Okay so. So decomposing executive function problems, and the things people grapple with, is a thing that I've been chewing over lately. We talk a lot on Tumblr about executive dysfunction but that's a pretty broad category of brain no worky good, and I'm honestly really curious: for other folks who struggle with executive dysfunction, which specific function causes the most problems for you day to day?

If you have more than one thing you struggle with, pick the one that causes you the most problems day to day.

[lomlhwa]

navillera (x.mh)

pairing: ballerina!reader x ballet teacher!minghao

preview: minghao can see your raw potential. you just need a little... incentive.

tags/warnings: fem reader, age gap (minghao is 35 and reader is 21), lots of flexible positions, kinda mean dom minghao, sir kink, fingering, oral (fem.receiving), degrading, monster cock minghao, dacryphilia, choking, marking, praise, pet names (slut, baby, pretty girl), unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.6k

song rec for this fic: all i got by baekhyun

a/n: sorry for scarce posting mls

training for the nutcracker has been more difficult than you had anticipated. your teacher has been so hard on everyone. his perfectionism was definitely showing. the constant cries of “straighten your leg!” or “point your toes!” have been ingrained in your brain. you’ve honestly become paranoid about messing up in front of him. currently, you’re just trying to perfect small things near the end of the show.

you and your dance partner dance carefully together, making sure your legs are straight and there’s not a flat foot in sight. your spun around and lifted effortlessly and you can almost feel a sense of pride filling your bones. but, as you’re put down, the hard box of your ballet slippers lands right on your dance partner’s foot, causing him to cry out.

suddenly, minghao cuts the music off and gestures for everyone to gather around him. “we have our first show next week, i cannot have this show looking this dogshit. we haven’t had a single run that didn’t have a mistake.” everyone around you looks defeated at his words. not a soul in the room isn’t out of breath from his vigorous training demands. “y/n.” he says your name and your eyes dart up to meet his. “do you even know how to do a pas de bourrée?” you gulp, looking down at the floor. “yes, i do, sir.” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “show me.” 

you hesitantly walk to the open space in front of him and get up en pointe. you perform the travelling movement, making sure to keep your legs straight and keep your body lines looking flowy. when you finish, you look over to see the most intimidating scowl on your teacher’s face. “i’m gonna need you to stay after class.” your face flushes bright red as you rush to disappear within the crowd of your classmates. 

the rest of the class is a blur. you can’t focus after your teacher embarrassed you like that in front of the whole class. finally, the class ends and you watch as your classmates rush to leave the studio. you and minghao stand on opposite sides of the room, staring at each other. “how long have you been doing ballet?” he asks, stretching arms over his chest. “um, 4 years.” he laughs, wandering over to you. “that’s like nothing compared to your classmates.” he looms over you, his shadow filling you with darkness.

“show me your pirouette.” he moves away from you, gesturing to the empty room. you lift yourself onto your toes and demonstrate a few spins, more than necessary. you stumble at the end and you can feel minghao’s blazing fury. “come here. put your hand on the bar.” you scurry over and do as instructed, your hand resting gently on the wooden bar attached to the wall. he leans down and grabs your ankle. he lifts it until your foot is above your head, your legs spread in a perfect split. “you’re very flexible and your moves are graceful, you just can’t follow through.” he runs his hand down your leg, his hand pausing to rest on your core. you jump, your legs fighting to hold their position.

minghao presses his palm against your core, electricity surging through your veins. you moan slightly before pressing your lips together in a thin line. he runs his finger over your slit through your tights. the thin fabric gives way to how wet you’re becoming at simple touches. “are these your performance tights?” minghao whispers. you shake your head, your legs beginning to ache. suddenly, the sound of fabric ripping fills the room. you gasp at the sudden cold feeling. your knee bends, your leg begging to be let back onto the floor. “keep your fucking leg up while i please you.” he demands as he pushes your panties to the side. 

you use your free hand to hold your foot, desperately trying to keep your leg up. minghao licks a wet stripe up your core, salivating at how wet you’d become. you shiver as he licks stripe after stripe up your cunt, savoring your taste as if he’d never tasted something so delicious. “if you can be a good girl and keep your leg up, i’ll let you cum,” he instructed. he dove into your core like he may never eat again. the sideways angle having him gripping every expanse of your ass and thighs he could get at. he rips your tights open more so he can feel your bare skin in his hands. 

his tongue jabs at your hole, barely dipping in to feel your dripping walls. his eyes roll back into his head at the way your body jerks whenever he sucks on your clit. your grip the bar on the wall so hard your knuckles turn white. your legs shake as they threaten to close against your will. “p-please sir,” you beg. you don’t even really know what you’re begging for at this point. his fingers find their way to your hole, replacing his tongue. he fingers you with such intensity that you’re worried he might break his hand. your whines and whimpers grow in volume quickly.

he chuckles against you, beginning to eat you with even more intensity. his fingers and his tongue move in sweet tandem. you start to piece together that he doesn’t intend to let you cum, he wants you to let your leg down. your whole body trembles as he licks and sucks on your wet heat until finally; your leg comes down. you stumble backwards and your ballet teacher looks at you with a sinister grin. “so sad, the poor baby doesn’t get to cum on my tongue.“

you look at him, defeated. your legs are so sore you can barely stay standing. minghao seemingly glides over to you before hooking his foot around you to force your knees to bend. you fall backwards and he lays you down on the floor. “can barely follow dance moves, let alone instructions while i’m eating you out. what a disobedient slut.” you whine, writing around on the cold dance practice floor. he slots himself between your legs, pressing his growing erection against your core. your cunt leaves a wet spot on his light colored tights. 

he looks down between your legs and sighs dramatically. “look at the fucking stain you’re leaving on my tights. so fucking pathetic,” he spreads your legs into a split again, grinding against your exposed core. your hands find their way to his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. “you’re so flexible and yet you can’t keep your legs straight when dancing. you’d think with a split like this, it would be effortless to you. do you use your split for sex more than dancing? is that it?” you whine at his disapproval. 

he separates from you to pull his tights down, a much more gentle gesture than the way he had torn yours open. your eyes widen, watching as he frees his cock. he catches your feverish eyes with his sinister ones. “you think you can take it, baby?” you shake your head slowly and he fakes a look of pity. “you can, and you’re going to.” he takes his place between your legs once again, his cock dragging against your slit. “hold your legs open.” you hook your hands around your thighs, doing your best to stay spread.

he guides himself into your desperate hole, the sting of the stretch filling your senses. your nails dig into the skin of the back of your thighs as you shake underneath minghao. he finally bottoms out and his jaw falls slack. he places his palms by your head, trapping you between his arms. he holds eye contact with you as he draws his hips back before thrusting back in slowly. you savor the feeling of every inch dragging along your walls. 

your forearms begin to ache from holding your legs open, your grip slipping. minghao rises to his knees and swats your hands away from your thighs. he replaces them with his own, folding you in half. his thrusts pick up in speed, drilling you full of his cock. “such a good fucking girl, taking my cock. you like when your teacher fills you up, huh?” you nod, your brain not even computing what he’s saying. “words, slut.” you pant desperately, trying to even muster a few words. “y-yes, sir.”

he lands a couple hard slaps to the soft skin of your thighs, leaving bright red hand print marks. you squeal, clenching around him. your senses go into overdrive when he wraps one hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure for your vision to go slightly fuzzy. tears spring to your eyes and flow down the side of your face. he stops holding you down and moves his other hand to your clit, rubbing over it quickly. “fuck, i’m so close, pretty girl. want you to cum for me, can you do that?” you nod to the best of your abilities and he smiles. 

your body spasms as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. you wrap both your hands around his wrist as he tightens his grip just a little more. “c-cumming,” you choke out. minghao lets out an animalistic groan as you clamp down on him. you wrap your legs around him to lock him into place, his last couple thrusts chasing his own orgasm. his hips stutter as his cum fills you to the brim, leaking out of you and onto the floor. he finally releases your throat and you suck in a few labored breaths. 

he pulls out of you and admires your spent body on the floor. “god, i think we should have more after class practices. do you agree?” you’re too tired to even respond but the way you shiver tells him everything he needs to know. he chuckles before reclothing himself. “there’s a pair of extra leggings in the closet. you might wanna put those on before you leave.” he grabs all of his things and walks away to the door. “see you tomorrow, y/n.”

© lomlhwa 2025

[buzz-in-your-veins]

Oops, did i do that?

Accidentally sending a spicy pic to your crush.

The reader is more fem dressed and has a vagina in this- if you want a part b where they don’t have outfits just let me know!

CW: Gender Neutral reader with a vagina and fem-like fashion, reader wears bras, no mention of having boobs.

Vox

Vox hadn’t known you for very long, you were one of the newer demons working for him. You’d applied for the job a few months ago.

In that time he’d seen you about four times, but he was honestly thinking of promoting you, you were amazing at your job, good with both the data and the customers, the only thing it seemed you couldn’t do, was look at your contacts.

You weren’t working tomorrow, so you’d gone out with your friends, you’d purposefully gone to one of the only clubs in the pride ring that wasn’t owned by a member of the V’s, in an effort not to run into your new boss.

You’d gone all out tonight, spurred on by your friends, see, you had a minor crush on the TV demon, not that you’d ever entertain it. However, your friends had picked your outfit tonight, and you ended up in a gorgeous (if a bit slutty) royal blue dress, sleeveless and short, with a glittery tulle overlay, and some beautiful electric red heels.

You were messing on with your friends in the bathroom, taking photos and just genuinely having fun, already beyond tipsy now. You were sending a photo of you and another friend in the mirror to your group chat, your friend had taken the time you were fixing your hair to add Vox onto the ‘send to’ people, you never noticed.

You also didn’t notice your phone go off when Vox opened it.

If only that was the worst part.

You finished the night absolutely trashed, your friends working together to walk one another home, most living near one another. You, of course, were the odd on out, and the odd number.

You assured your friends it was fine, you lived in VVV tower for Lucifers sake, you’d be fine! Your friends wouldn’t hear it.

One of your friends, less drunk, had messaged one of Velvettes models, whom she used to work with and asked for them to walk you back.

You got back safe and sound, still not having realised you’d sent Vox the bathroom photo, or seeing the demon’s expression as Velvettes model walked you in.

You weren’t quite tired enough to sleep when you were dropped back in your room, so you messed on on your phone for a bit, before undressing. You hadn’t got to taking your make up off or undoing your hair, you’d gotten your dress off, and just.. stopped.

You were in an ethereal lingerie set, clearly made with Vox in mind.

Pretty blue panties hugged your hips, red electric bolts providing straps, the lace comfortable against your pussy, your chest coved with a light blue bralette, lace spilling against your skin, and the most beautiful glitch effect chain snug around your belly.

You matched this with a black thin choker with a hanging blue electric bolt, and posed against your bed, taking a few photos, changing poses and taking more.

Your favourite was one where you were laid flat, the photo taken from above, you could see your entire body, including the heels you still hadn’t taken off, and you were stairing straight at the camera with your painted lips parted.

Satisfied you went to save your photo.

Never noticing you’d sent the same photo to your boss.

Afterall, you hadn’t know to take him off your list.

You were cuddled up asleep, still in the underwear, when Vox opened your photo.

You never noticed the power surge then go out, nor did you notice Vox’s name pop up on your phone.

Angel Dust

Angel had seen you around the hotel more than usual, Charlie said you’d recently quit your job to work for someone else, and it gave you more free time and flexibility.

Angel was happy for you, your boss had been a real price of work.

Still riding the high off getting a better job, you’d invited your friends out clubbing, having received a handsome final salary.

You had chosen to go to Hyper-Tech, one of Vox’s clubs, and one of the best. They had some off the greatest drinks, and, unbeknownst to you, that night they also had Angel Dust dancing.

You friends teased you relentlessly about your crush on the porn star already, and they played this off as purposeful on your part, even though you’d had no idea.

You had started the night feeling confident and pretty in your oulfit, but seeing the spider you felt a flash of self consciousness, after all, your outfit was styled on the spiders own colour theme, an off the shoulder soft pink velvet crop-top, above-knee white loose pleated skirt, and pastel pink heels with a hot pink belt and nail polish.

You friends quickly took care of that, telling you how wonderful you looked, that anyone would be lucky to see you.

And getting you drunk definitely helped, the endless stream of cocktails bought with your money, and eventually dipping into your friends supplies brought on a happy buzz.

They also greatly diminished your ability to think critically.

You never saw how Angel Dust watched you the entire time you were in the club, as you progressively got drunker, to the point Angel was shocked you could still stand, never mind walk.

Your friends however, saw how the renowned demon was watching you with concern and admiration.

They quickly concocted a plan without your input.

Angels set finished around 2 in the morning, he waited in his dressing room for you to leave.

You had planed to walk home with your friends before splitting off to the hotel, but one of your friends changed the plan, stating there was no need for you to walk them home, after all, didn’t you like live in the complete opposite direction? Another friend had ‘needed the bathroom’ and had walked right by Angels door, talking about how you were leaving with the third friend.

As you were arguing about the principle of walking your friends home, Angel Dust came out of club, and said he didn’t mind walking you home, you lived together anyway.

Your friends quickly agreed and left, not allowing you to argue.

The whole walk back you were showered with compliments about your outfit, your dancing, your hair, your ability to drink, everything.

Angel walked you all the way to your room before leaving you.

You started to undress, but decided you wanted a photo for this occasion.

In your underwear, a pretty pale pink push-up bra, and a silky white thong, still in the hot pink heels, you took a photo in the mirror, sat on your knees staring in the mirror.

For some reason, you decided to send that to yourself instead of just saving to camera roll.

Only, you never send it to yourself. After the walk home, Angel had messaged you to sleep well, meaning he was your top contact.

Never thinking to check, you simply threw on a pale pink baby doll, took your heels and make up off, and went to bed.

Alastor

Alastor showing up to help at the hotel had never been in your plan.

The radio demon was always an unobtainable shadow, someone you could safely crush on from your own mind, because he would never be in your reach.

Except..

Now he was.

Now not to be foolish, you had figured from his interactions and reactions that Alastor was most likely somewhere on the Ace or Aro spectrum, and you would never push anything onto him.

But you could never even get close enough to talk to him, never mind ask about the possibility of him being on the spectrum.

So you hid. Everytime Alastor was around, you weren’t.

Alastor was cooking? You weren’t hungry. Al was helping with the daily running? You had work. Alastor was in the library? You didn’t want to read anyways.

Alastor always noticed your absence.

Instead you poured over everything and anything about the radio demon.

When he appeared, what he did, where he could have been in the seven years, his rise to power, his ability’s, his domain, everything.

Your crush on the radio demon was a foolish one, but that didn’t stop you from having it.

From dreaming of picnics and ice cream dates, of long walks down the streets of hell, to him taking you apart with his words alone, voice wrapping around you.

And when he stopped those muggers?

You went weak.

So, yea, your crush was unobtainable, in the highest scene.

You could still dress up though.

And you did, frequently.

In pantsuits of dark crimson, to the bloody scarlet ball gown, for the party.

Alastors eyes never left you that night.

Mostly, it was under your clothes.

Pretty crimson baby dolls. Black lacy thongs. Scarlett bralettes. Everything. Your camera roll was full of photos of yourself in the underwear, posing this way and that, full of imagination and hopes you would never act on.

Oh how you’d positively die if anyone saw.

That didn’t stop you.

Right now you were dressed in a darling crimson corset, embroidered with darker lace, tied tight, paired with dark scarlet panties, pussy damp against the lace as you lost yourself slightly in a fantasy, black heels and a black necklace, you had posed side on to the camera, staring straight ahead, knees folded underneath you and head tilted slightly up, arms held behind your back.

You heard your shutter go off and stood, getting dressed in a black lace camisole, taking of the corset and heels before heading to bed.

Picking your phone up on the way, you saved the photo to your folder.

Surely, you should have expected naming your folder ‘Alastor<3’ to backfire, but..

Maybe this was a Freudian slip?

It’s not like you even noticed you’d sent it, and you were asleep by the time your phone when off.

Lucifer

You’d seen the King of Hell maybe twice, once in passing, and once when he came to the hotel.

It was more than enough for you to crush on the child-like King, falling in love with his attitude and personality, drawn further in by his looks and kindness.

By the time the charity ball came around, you were completely lost for him.

Lucifer showed up in a white suit, not too different from his normal attire, only more fancy, more Kingly, so to speak.

You had taken Angels advice and dressed to impress.

Angel Dust was the only one who knew about the feelings you had for the fallen angel, and he took every opportunity to tease you for it, but he was also your biggest supporter.

You and Angel had knows each other almost as long as you’d been in hell, so his help was soothing for you, and you smiled as the spider laced up the golden gown you’d picked.

It was a golden off-the-shoulder ball gown, with a soft cover of glittery tulle over the top, the skirt flaring out, reaching the floor, covered in rose embroidered embellishments, and paired with bloody red heels, and a glittering clutch.

Charlie had told you all to go all out, and you and Angel did not disappoint.

The two of you descended together, and you caught site of the King before quickly moving your eyes, your blush almost matching your clutch.

Charlie swanned around you, telling you how amazing you looked, and look at your hair!

Angel got you a flute of champagne before leaving you to find Husk.

Traitors.

You walked around the party, dancing with people here and there, doing your best to avoid looking at the King.

You never saw that his eyes never left your form, or how he glared at everyone who touched you.

The king had tried more than once to get close to you, if not to dance with you, to at least tell you how amazing you looked, but you always seemed to move at just the right time.

Charlie had been snapping photos of you the whole night, sending them to her dad, even she saw the two of you pining for one another.

Your flute was never empty, and unfortunately for you, Angel could always recognise when you were about to bolt, and he and Husk would step in to talk to you and prevent it.

Did you mention traitors?

By the time you were finally able to leave, you were definitely tipsy, clutching Angels arm as the two of you ascended the stairs, congratulating yourself on managing to avoid the King.

Angel saw the way Lucifer was watching you, but you didn’t.

By the time you were in your room and Angel had left after unlacimg your dress, ‘we went all blessed with long arms, A——y!’, you wanted a special photo.

So you got ready.

You kept your heels on and striped to your underwear, a strapless golden bra with a red bow in the center, trimmed in lace, and panties to match, also trimmed in lace. You kept the sparkly fishnets on too, and your makeup on, before finiding a pose you liked.

Finally settling on a pose wherein you were laid on your back, your knees up and tilted slightly to the side, one hand on your breast, the other just above your head, and your face tilted towards your phone, positioned slightly higher than you, and just above your head.

You smiled at the photo, and went to save it.

You never looked.

Lucifer had got your number of Charlie to tell you how nice you’d looked. Your response?

A photo.

You were asleep by the time Lucifers own response came in.

Husk

Husk hadn’t taken much notice of you at first, only that you seemed to come and go with Angel, Husk later learned you were Angels shadow so to speak, Valentino payed you prettily just to follow and protect the star.

Husk noticed you more as you came out more without Angel, not being needed as often when you were in the hotel.

You and the barcat had had some quite good conversations, and some even better discussions.

You knew your way around cards that was for sure, and the cat loved talking with you about card tricks.

Sure no one could match him in card tricks, but hearing you talk about them? Something just felt different.

Husk worried about you and Angel a lot, especially when you both came back late, Angel looking trashed, and you looking slightly high on those nights. It took Husk months to realise Valentino was drugging you both, more so Angel. On those nights, Husk would stay up late to make sure you and Angel ate and drank before going to bed.

Husk never brought it up, and Angel didn’t remember, so you never spoke about it. If the cat didn’t want to bring it up why should you?

Husk did notice his favourite snack appearing on the bar in the mornings however.

Your crush on the cat had started before you even began talking to him, but those conversations, the way he treated you, how he never made you seem unimportant, the way he looked after you and Angel after Val had been upset?

You were gone.

And the cat was your new home.

Not that you’d ever tell him of course, you would never risk ruining such a wonderful friendship like that.

Of course, there were also nights like these. When Val needed Angel for publicity, those were the best. You both got to dress up and basically just party, no forced drugs or alcohol, just fun.

You’d dressed in an orange one-shoulder skin-tight slip dress, with a split up-to your thigh, paired with glittery purple heels, a clutch and jewellery, with black card themed earrings.

Husk had seen you just before you got into Vox’s limo and dropped his bottle of cheap alcohol, sending Niffty into a cleaning/laughing fit.

You and Angel didn’t get back until 1 in the morning, both of you slightly buzzed, but pretty much sober, not having been forced to fed any drugs and having eaten at the gala.

Husk had tried to stay up.

You feel deeper when you realised the barcat was asleep at his post because he was waiting for you. Sending Angel to bed, you walked over to the barcat and gently shook him awake, telling him he could go to bed.

From here Husk noticed the earrings, and flushed, jolting backwards and falling.

You giggled a little before apologising for startling him, which he waved off.

He headed to bed and you got back to your room. Taking your dress off you caught sight of your self in the mirror.

Pretty orange panties with a tiny club embroidered in at the side, deep orange plunge bra with a spade on the left cup, purple bracelet, necklace, and shoes, pretty orange make-up, and a heart and diamond earring set.

You needed a photo.

Fussing around a bit you finally settled on a pose with you laying slightly over the end of the bed, head and chest tilted down, knees pulled up to the side, camera angled too capture everything, arms by your head, and full body on display.

You changed into some sleep clothes after the photos, and in your sleepy state sent them to Husk, instead of simply saving them.

You didn’t wake up until well after Husk responded.

Lute.

Lute had noticed you as soon as you’d joined Adam’s ranks.

Of course she had.

You were the prettiest exterminator Lute had had the pleasure of seeing.

She pestered Adam until he agreed Lute could have her own assistant.

That of course, was you.

Lute loved having you work with her.

Yes all your conversations were about work, and you treat her like your boss, not a colleague, but it wa a better than when you weren’t talking at all.

You were still reeling from the change in position so fast, and now having to deal with the angel you were crushing on at all hours of the day?

Your poor heart couldn’t deal.

You were a blushing mess under your mask every time Lute spoke to you, praising yourself every time you got through an answer without stumbling or stuttering on the words.

Your friends were relentless with the teasing, going as far as to create hand signals to tease you even on the training fields.

Regardless you excelled.

You had to be the best.

And so you were.

Lute often asks what fuels you, and you always stumbled through a bullshit answer, never remembering what you’d said before.

You never gave her the same answer.

You couldn’t exactly tell your now boss the reason you did so well was so she would notice you, could you?

Shadowing Lute meant shadowing Adam. He usually left you alone for the most part though.

It meant going to fancy angel party’s. With out your mask.

You forced your friends to help you get ready.

Gorgeous black knee length dress, clinched at the waist, with silvery heels, a silver necklace, a silver clutch, and purple earrings, your hair done all nice and make up to compliment the outfit.

Your friends told you you looked stunning, and when Lute saw you, she had to agree.

You spent the entire party following Lute around, you didn’t know any of the people here and you were anxious.

Lute kept your champagne topped up, eventually switching you to something a little harder when it became clear you wouldn’t settle on the sparkling liquid alone, not used to the alcohol you got drunk fast.

Adam allowed Lute to leave early, so she could take you home.

Lute got you in safely and even placed an aspirin and water on your bedside table, before leaving you, messaging your phone to let you know what’s happened.

Meanwhile, you’d striped down to a gray lacy bralette, with matching high waisted panties, pretty silver heels, make-up still on and earrings still in.

You wanted a photo.

You set your phone up, and posed, on you knees on your bed, heels just visible, leaned back slightly, one hand behind your bed in a stretch and one on the bed, eyes looking just beyond the camaraderie.

Happy with the results, you went to save the picture, instead, sending it to Lute, who opened it as soon as she got home.

Bye the time Lute replied, you were curled up ontop of your covers, heels still on, sleeping deeply.

Feedback is always appreciated <3

If you want more people added feel free to ask and I’ll do a part two!

Comments are my high.

They make me write faster.

~Vyrus