#google cloud partners

[amyntasmediaworksindia]

Google Cloud is a unique platform that helps businesses become more innovative, agile, and faster. Google Cloud Platform is the most efficient platform that executes on the same Google infrastructure used for other end-user products and services. Read More at https://www.amyntas.in/google-cloud/ Amyntas Is Authorized Reseller For Google WorkSpace (Formerly G-Suite). Get A Unique Corporate Gmail Account For Your Company From Us At The Most Economical Rates. Choose Your Workspace Edition. The Most Economical Workspace Pricing. No More Wait, Get Yourself A Workspace Account With Your Domain. Read More at https://www.amyntas.in/google-workspace/

[onixcloud]

Healthcare data breaches are alarmingly costly, compromising sensitive patient information and incurring significant financial penalties. The image depicts a hospital with digital locks and warning signs, symbolizing data protection. In the background, charts and graphs illustrate the rising costs of breaches over time. To mitigate these risks, a trusted cloud management service provider is essential. They offer robust security measures, including encryption, regular audits, and compliance with healthcare regulations. Utilizing these services can safeguard patient data, reduce breach incidents, and ultimately save healthcare organizations from substantial financial and reputational damage.

[dreamwizardz]

Dream Wizardz stands out as the leading Google Cloud Premier Partner in India, recognized for its exceptional expertise and commitment to delivering top-tier cloud solutions. The company has established a strong reputation in the industry, leveraging its deep understanding of Google Cloud technologies to provide innovative services that cater to the diverse needs of its clients. With a focus on enhancing operational efficiency and driving digital transformation, Dream Wizardz continues to set benchmarks in the realm of cloud computing, making it the preferred choice for businesses seeking reliable and effective cloud partnerships in the region.

[dergarabedian]

AGEA migra con Telecom sus centros de datos a la nube informática de Google

AGEA migra con Telecom sus centros de datos a la nube informática de Google

La empresa Telecom acompañará a la empresa Arte Gráfico Editorial Argentino (AGEA), la principal editora de medios gráficos de la Argentina en su proceso de transformación digital, con la migración de todos los contenidos desde sus centros de datos a Google Cloud, la nube informática de la multinacional estadounidense Google. (more…)

[s41l0rm00nz]

can u do a Miguel O’Hara fic where we peg n babygirl him and just spoil him 😩😩

Massage Therapy

miguel o’hara x reader

sypnosis: miguel is stressed from a long day of being spiderman and what better way to relieve that than by giving him a massage?

cw: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, pegging, miguel is babygirl (and stressed), soft dom!reader, beefy man getting a massage from his gf, afab reader, reader uses a strap, fingering (male receiving bc prep is important!!), miguel gets oiled up (i’d pay to see that irl), miguel has a praise kink that goes both ways, miguel calls reader mami bc thats hot idc., also u both speak spanish (miguel more than reader (had to use google translate 🙏 so pardon any mistakes.)), no specified looks for y/n, kinda short after care?? idk, big strong men r always submissive at heart, u guys were in the shower for a little bit, these r a lot of cw

jay i’ve been procrastinatin mb stink hope u like this xx

miguel sighed as he grabbed the spare key under his front doormat. He was sweating, his muscles ached and he couldn’t help but groan as he entered his apartment.

his mind was clouded with sleep and the intention of getting to his partner as his large frame walked towards the bathroom, already hearing running water from the shower he slipped in. the mirror was covered in steam and miguel quickly undressed.

he pulled the shower curtain back, a scream irrupted from the girl in the shower. “fuck, miguel!” she gasped, a hand was over her heart as miguel chuckled.

“lo siento, mi amor..” he grinned, cracking his back and stepping under the shower stream and sighing pleasantly. he grabbed her love handles, head handing low as the shower water rushed over him “te extrañé, mi vida.”

she hummed, giving him a soft kiss on the lips when he bent down. “i missed you too,” grabbing the soap she squirted some into her hand then took the time to rub it all over her body. “how was saving the universe?” she smiled

“día agotador. as usual. today was… more tame though.” he cracked his back before moving her under the stream and stepping back.

“jesus, miguel.” she cringed at his loud cracking. “when was the last time you had a massage?” she washed the soap off her diligently, brows furrowed as she tried to look at miguel through the water.

he sucked in his breath, the dates becoming to cluttered to remember. y/n huffed through her nose.

“you need to take better care of yourself if y’re going to be doing this spider-man stuff.” she reprimanded, clicking her tongue while her eyes narrowing at him, clearly upset from the way he was ‘taking care’ of himself.

“m’sorry.” he groaned quietly, snaking his hands around her waist. “let me help you, mi hermosa..” he soothed, washing off any left over soap on her to help get back in her good graces. his rough hands smoothed over her body with precision, gripping her ass when he was done.

y/n leaned into his touch, “one of these days i’m gunna give you a massage, hun. your knots have knots.” she could feel the stress and pain in his shoulders from where she was standing. “you deserve it,” she turned grabbed the soap and sprayed some in her hands. she roamed and mapped out his body, watching the way it glistens up his body with desire.

“i’ll keep your word for it.” he gave her a cheeky grin, fangs flashing.

you were always one to live up to your promises.

“okay, qué están haciendo?” miguel asked with a little chuckle. “i’m at your mercy, mi amor.” he was sat on the bed, no clothes on with a smirk on his face

“put your head here and relax for me, miguel.” y/n patted a singular pillow on the edge of the bed, trying not to stare at every bit of him. once he settled she grabbed the massage oil, rubbed it in her hands then began to spread it along miguel’s body.

in all his glory miguel layed in your shared bed, naked and lathered in oil. his face was smooshed into a pillow as y/n worked methodically on his back muscles. she gasped at the knots she felt under his skin.

“y’re so tense, miguel. you’ve been working so hard, hm?” every crack, push, and movement with y/n’s hands had miguel moaning with pleasure.

“joder, mami. you feel so good.” he sighed into the pillow, letting out a deep groan when she touched a specific spot. “fuck-“

“feels good doesn’t it?” her voice was sultry when she whispered in his ear, enjoying the way he shivered. “my big mans’ been working day and night. maybe i should’ve done this sooner.” she grinned, cracking a spot on his back that had him moaning loud.

“ah..-“ he moaned. “ay dios mío- yes that feels good so good, mi amor.” his voice was shaky, “that was the spot.”

“good, good..” she mumbled, her massages traveled down to his lower back to a spot she knew was sore. she pressed down and heard a good crack come out. every moan or noise he made was like singing praises to her. this was about miguel tonight.

“you know me so well, love. you’re like an angel right now-“ his voice and compliments became more broken the more he massage. “s-so good.” miguel could already feel himself becoming way less tense the more she worked. but there was still another tense spot he was starting to sport, and it was hard not to notice.

“jeez, miguel.” y/n snickered, feeling miguel up as she smoothed her hands over his back. “that good, huh?”

all miguel could do was grumble, “well-“ he sighed. “i do have an incredibly beautiful lady on top of me-“ he moaned when she massaged his shoulders. “so i’m just- responding to that.” he grinned.

“very responsive, indeed.” she teased, “want me to take care of that for you?” she smoothed her hand over his ass.

“i wouldn’t say no to that.” miguel chuckled, “love it when you take care of me like that..”

“i know you do.” she hummed.

…

“y’know..” she trailed off, grabbing the oil and dabbing some on her hand. “we haven’t filled this up in a while..” she traced and rimmed his hole, the smile on her face was almost contagious.

“you’re a tease.” miguel snorted. “but you’re right, we haven’t.” he relaxed deeply into the pillow. “makes me wonder what else will be joining us tonight..” he laugh was deep in his chest, grinning at the idea they shared.

“well, tonight is about you. wouldn’t be bad if i took care of other places then your back.” she pushed a finger in slightly before removing it.

“oh my,” he sucked in a breath. “well if the offers on the table, i would like the sound of that.” he chuckled.

“it is definitely on the table,” she peppered kissed along his back, staying in a few spots as she pushed her finger in slowly. “i need to prep you though first, okay?”

“soy todo tuyo, mami. do what you must.” his voice shook with a groan, relaxing more and more into the bed as she fingered him. he let out a deep whine as she curled one finger.

“m’gunna add another, okay?” she removed her finger and watched as his hole gaped slightly as she added oil to her middle and point. she slowly pushed into his hole again, his moans egging her on to go deeper.

she pulled out her fingers and right as they were about to escape she pushed them back in. “you’re so tight, miguel. ease up a little.” she massaged his thigh with his other hand, she fingered him slowly, moving her fingers in a beckoning motion.

“fuck- oh, cariño, te sientes tan bien.” miguel mumbled, his cock rutting slowly into the bed.

y/n snorted, pulling out slowly. she got up and went into their closet, shuffling around before finding a shoe box with plenty of things shuffling around in it. she opened it up and grabbed a particular item before stalking back towards miguel’s submissive figure. she fixed the strap-on to herself before settling back into her original position and spread his cheeks.

“this is going to hurt a little.” she mumbled into his ear, voicing soothing. “but you can take it, miguel. you always do.” she praised, rubbing oil on the strap-on then lining it up his hole. she placed soft kisses all along him as she pushed in, his breathing was heavy while his moans turned into soft whines of pain and pleasure from the depths of his throat.

once she was settled she pulled out slowly. going all the way to only the tip in then slamming in him at a medium pace in prone bone position.

he was slowly falling apart on her cock, fangs bared and claws clinging to the sheets and throaty groans unraveled from his mouth. each thrust was deep, prodding at his deepest parts. a hand was on his lower back to not only keep him in place but to hit farther, to that specific spot that had him screaming all those nights ago and it was y/n’s mission to get him to that point. she wanted to spear him on her cock like how he’s done for her. she sung praises in his ear, enjoying his pleads and fuss on how good it feels. how much he needed this. how much he loves you.

it was all sweet, y/n snaked her hand under him to toy with his cock, rubbing her thumb over the tip and using his precum to jerk him off. it was intimate, what miguel craved for.

“e-estoy cerca de correrme,” miguel stuttered out. “i’m close- so close, cariño.” his hips shook with fevor as y/n’s pace of thrust became faster.

“go ahead, mi amor.” she kissed him gently, slipping her tongue inside him as he started to come. “that’s it.” she whispered, finding joy in his moans as her thrust lackadaisically slowed. “doing so good for me, let all your stress leave.”

she let him catch his breath before pulling out. he whined at the feeling, bucking his hips deeper into the sheets. “roll over for me, love.” she kissed his shoulders gently, helping him roll over before taking off her strap-on. she made her way to the kitchen and filled a glass with water to give to him.

“that felt amazing, mi amor..” he stretched gently, sitting up against the headboard and drinking the water.

as he drunk the cooling liquid she used a warm rag to wipe wherever his cum sprayed along with the sheets, mumbling how she’ll wash them in the morning. she placed soft kisses along his back and chest, smoothing her hands over every battle scar and mumbling praises into his skin.

…

“did you enjoy yourself?” his words were soft as he pulled her close to him.

“of course i enjoyed myself, i was taking care of you.” she said in a light voice, kissing still trailing along his skin.

“mhmmm, you always know how to make me feel good.” his voice was hoarse and his hands were lazily trailing her body. “you’re simply the best.”

she grinned at his compliments. “are you trying to butter me up right now?”

“maybe, is my flattery working?”

“nope.” she chuckled. “are you aching anymore?”

“no, i feel a whole lot better actually.” he shuffled under the blankets with her, enjoying the warmth they shared. “gracias, amor mío.”

“for what?”

“por todo eso. i needed it.”

“of course, mi niño grande.”

…

“what?”

[cerise-on-top]

König Teasing Reader in His Dialect

I finally got around to writing for König being sappy with his S/O in his native tongue! Native dialect, in fact!! I'm not gonna include any translations for this one! And don't bother putting it in Google Translate either, it won't work :3c

“Du host so a liabes Gschau.”

A gentle twilight it was, the sky donning a beautiful coat of orange. With the few fluffy clouds floating by, you watched your boyfriend glow in the soft evening light. It was almost magical, the way the sun set behind the mountains, the way it created a halo of utmost pulchritude on König. He was a rough man, who found it within himself to be as gentle as one would never imagine. His hands were calloused, but the way he caressed your face made it seem as though he was a lover by nature. Although he may have killed more people than you have ever known in your lifetime, that fact barely came to mind when his voice would call for you. Strong his accent, yes, but with it came a sense of familiarity that you would get nowhere else. König was a beautiful man. If you could have, then you would have knelt in front of him, allowing him to tread his fingers through your locks. If you could have, you would have slung your arms around him, burying yourself in his warmth and scent. But alas, all that came to mind was confusion. What did he say this time?

“You know my German isn’t that good just yet. You gotta be patient with me. Can you translate?”

With a certain glimmer in his eyes, he smiled as he shook his head. “No, I’ll let you figure this one out. It would be boring if I translated everything for you.” But even so, he walked towards you, quiet as a cat, hunting for its prey. All there was to devour was you, unity through the purpose of consuming one another. He stood still in front of you, eyes almost hazy as he seemed a little unfocused. He was a hunter, but whenever you were around he laid his weapon to rest, craving your attention more than he felt the bloodlust. You calmed him more than any restful night ever could. Your touch was the remedy for his loneliness, his fear, his anger. And this time, it was his turn to repay you, gently running his thumb across your cheek.

“Du bist mei ois. Für di leib i. I bin dir so vü schuidig. Söbst wenn i dir die Wöd gebn darad, warads ned genug. Danke für ois. Bitte bleib bei mir so laung wies nur geht. Hah, i reid grod so vü Scheiße, aba des stört mi ned. Du mochst mi so fertig, aber i hob di so lieb. Eigentlich wuid i heite schiacha zu dir sein, oba i kauns afoch ned. I bin so verliebt in di.”

Should you feel angry at him? For all you knew he could have been cursing you worse than any string of English words ever could. And yet, his expression betrayed him. That gentle smile, that soft gaze, that tender touch. König let out a content sigh, placing his hands atop your shoulders. It was evident he wanted something, he wanted more, but all he could do was stare as love overtook every fiber of his being. In that moment, he wasn’t a hunter, he wasn’t a fighter, he wasn’t a soldier. If there was one thing he could call himself, it was yours. Your boyfriend, your partner, your loved one. It didn’t matter as long as it was in relation to you. He pulled you into a tight embrace. His pride was a wall made of steel, but you burned yourself through the metal and settled down in his heart. All you knew was that he was so much kinder towards you than he gave himself credit for.

“Love, I’ve got no idea what you’re saying.”

“Brauchst a ned. I wü afoch nur so mit dir bleibn. I mechat di für imma so hoitn. Du bist so liab. I hob so vü Scheiße im Militär durchgmocht, oba es wor’s ma ois wert wal i di kennanglernt hob. I darad ois no amoi so mochn. Bitte sei ma ned bes, oba i glab es is gscheita wennst ned wast, wos i grod sog. Du suist mi ned als schwochn Maun sehn. Oba nur damit du’s wast, es gibt kan Menschn auf dera Wöd, den i liaba hob als di. I hoff, dass ma ewig zaumbleibm kennan.”

“Are you being sappy right now?”

But the only response you got was him holding onto you as though you were a beautiful, fleeting memory. Wrapping your arms around him in return, you resigned yourself to your fate. He could so very easily snap you in half, and yet he chose to use his strength to make you feel protected. Indeed, König was a different man with you. You knew him as the anxious colonel that was still capable of leading people. Deadly precise, viciously efficient, always successful. And today he felt as giddy as a child watching its first rainbow, all because he was with you.

“Ich hab dich ganz doll lieb.”

Finally, some words you could understand.

“Love you too, König.”

[starshideurfics]

Buzzed, Buzzing - part 2

part 1

Buzzed, Buzzing

JQ, you can’t go dropping TWO horny photoshoots on us in less than a week!

steddie, omegaverse, Buzzed part 2, mdni 🔞

Finally being with Eddie is a dream. At least for the week he’s in town, fully foregoing Steve’s guest room and its comfy mattress.

Instead, it’s a week of Eddie wrapped around Steve each night, skin touching skin, bodies sated in a bone-deep way Steve’s never felt before.

A week of waking up to Eddie’s lips on his neck, to whispers of, “Morning, Puppy,” and sleepy yawns, arms tugging him closer and closer.

A week of Robin saying, “I’m happy for you, truly, but could you try going five minutes without swapping spit?!” only for Eddie to look her dead in the eye and lick whatever part of Steve is closest to his mouth.

A week of Steve floating on a cloud of affection and hormones.

Then Eddie has to leave, head to Chicago and buckle down for long days filming.

Steve mopes their whole last morning, sneaking shirts out of Eddie’s suitcase until the alpha relents and dumps out his dirty laundry. “Put ‘em all in your nest, I can get new shirts.”

Steve purrs, gathers the shirts, and herds Eddie back to his room for a last quickie before Eddie’s Uber arrives.

Being apart sucks. They videochat daily, text constantly, but Steve still misses Eddie every second he’s gone. So, he’s back where he started, mooning over pics on his phone, scenting at Eddie’s boxers as he works three fingers into his aching pussy.

He’s holding out, but Steve is counting down the days until shooting wraps, when Eddie would fly straight to Indy.

Steve’s on his lunch break, typing out a response to Eddie’s latest text as he shove pretzel thins and hummus in his mouth, when his phone starts buzzing.

Robin is calling, from the other end of the building. “Hey, Robbie, need me to get you a coke zero?” he asks instead of saying hello.

“Don’t tell me you got rid of your Munson-stalking web alert, because that’s the only reason I can think of for why you aren’t freaking out!”

He did, not really needing it when he has Eddie checking in with him at least hourly. “What? Robin, I’m texting with Eddie right now, what do you think I missed?”

“Just, look him up; your ADHD gremlin boyfriend probably forgot to mention it!”

Steve opens google, starts typing Eddie’s name and only gets as far as “ED” before autofill finishes it for him.

A new photoshoot and accompanying interview. Steve gets caught by a photo of Eddie eating a peach. It’s such a thirst trap, but it makes Steve smile.

Besides, there are other notes, but Steve’s scent has always been peach-forward. It might be a coincidence. Steve doesn’t think it is.

He reads the interview; about his current project, lots on the movie coming out next month that filmed a year ago, and his costars including a chill cat.

But right under the peach picture is a question about his personal life, how he stays grounded and connected when he’s constantly moving around for work. 

Eddie starts, as he always does, with Wayne, his friends, his charity work, the arts scholarship he funds.

“The truth is that it’s all for my partner. Like, I want to put good into the world, help kids like me who didn’t have the best start in life, but my focus is on being good enough for him, being the kind of person he can be proud of.” 

The journalist asks him to elaborate.

She writes about Eddie’s smile, the small one where he averts his gaze, emotions too big to share. “I dunno, just that he’s got me beat by a mile—he’s a teacher, middle school, you know, the worst time in a kid’s life. And he loves it!”

More words on Eddie’s laugh and kind eyes.

“So, yeah, the people I love, the people who love me, that’s how I keep my head on straight. That’s what it’s all about, right? Family, friends. Pack.”

Steve’s vision goes blurry on the last little paragraph. He wipes the tears from his eyes and pulls out his phone.

Just read the article! I’ve always been proud of you ❤️

Three little dots appear immediately to show Eddie’s typing, but they disappear and instead Steve’s phone buzzes with a call.

“I forgot that was coming out today! I should have warned you!”

Steve grins. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but thank you. And it wasn’t too much? I’m trying to keep my private life private, but if I can’t talk to you, I wanna talk about you. All the time. Because I fucking miss you, Puppy.”

“It’s okay,” Steve reiterates. “I miss you, too. So much. Wish you were here.”

The whine he lets out makes Eddie chuckle, low and dark. “Wish I had you here, could show you how much I miss you. At least you’ve got some new visual aides, but maybe tonight, when I call you could show me… Get your fingers wet for me.”

Steve lets out another breathy whine. “Yeah, want that.” He presses his legs together, tries to tamp down the feelings of desire before he gets too wet at work. “Miss your fingers, though.”

“Good,” Eddie husks. Steve can hear him lick his lips, so he knows Eddie’s nervous. “And it was supposed to be a surprise. But I’ve got the weekend off. My flight gets in at 9 on Friday night.”

Now expanded into a full fic! Read here

[pinkdaisies9285]

Flyboy and the Florist-1

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff

Word Count: 466

Author's Note: This is my first time writing for Bob and I hope I did him justice. Also, I tried to keep reader pretty neutral in features but she does have glasses and ear piercings!

It was an accident. One moment Bob was trying to find the perfect bouquet for Penny from Maverick because he trusted the quiet man. The next he’s surrounded by flowers on the ground and the prettiest eyes are staring at him with concern. Bob didn’t think that someone so beautiful would be the owner of the little florist shop he found on Google. It had the highest reviews and that was good enough for him. He was not expecting to be enamored with her when he first walked in. Hence why he missed the bucket with freshly cut peonies to the right of him. Which resulted in him slipping on the wet floor and landing flat on his ass.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Tilting her head which resulted in a soft jingle from the earrings she was wearing. The stars and moon twinkling in the sunlight added an almost ethereal appearance to her but maybe it was just in his head. 

“Y-yeah. Sorry about knocking that over. I can pay for them if they’re ruined now?” he said while standing up quickly. He felt like a total idiot knocking over your perfect flowers and his momma raised him to be a gentleman. So his immediate thought was to somehow fix the silly little mistake he made. 

“You’re totally fine,” she said with a chuckle while pushing up her glasses. “ They’re just flowers and besides I can repurpose them into one of my bath salts. An easy fix.” 

All Bob could focus on was her pretty smile and how much her glasses fit her face perfectly. With his head in the clouds, he missed the question she just asked him.

“I’m sorry what was that again?” he felt completely flustered.

“I asked what type of bouquet are you looking for? Is it for a partner or a friend?” she asked with a curious look on her face.

“Oh! It's not for me. My superior wanted some help picking out something for his partner.” Bob immediately replied with a flush on his cheeks. 

“Well, he must trust your insight a lot to give such an important task to you.” She turned around and picked up a bouquet that had morning glory, baby’s breath, and roses. “Here this bouquet will be perfect. Baby’s breath means everlasting love, Morning glory means affection, and pink and white roses together mean “I love you still and I always will.” 

Bob stood there even more enamored than before, the way she rattled off the meaning of each flower with such excitement made him want to know more. About her or the language of flowers, he wasn’t sure but he knew that this wasn’t the last time he would be crossing paths with this enigma of a woman. He’ll make sure of it. 

Tag List: @attapullman @seresinhangmanjake @3tabbiesandalab @nerdgirljen @bobgasm @muddwheelz123

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[fullofgutsndopamine]

Just A Spark (Gonna Let It Happen)

Or: five times hasan helped you + 1 the one time you helped him

feat: fire fighter hasan

tw: mention of drinking, cursing, mention of ptsd/trauma

thanks to the wonderful @the-phantom-author for letting me run with their idea. @medlarmeadows and @abadarkade for their wonderful suggestions and always offering ideas when i run out

more hasan here

one. first encounter

sometimes, when the thick blanket of night falls in the room, hits his eyes even though they’re blocked by his arm-he wonders exactly what he did wrong in a past life to be here.

he isn’t sure if he believes in that past life bullshit; people with cards and stars that tell him he looked at someone the wrong way, years ago, in a different lifetime, landed him here- but fuck, he did something wrong.

it’s the steady beep of a half broken fire alarm that makes an eye snap up. it’s ironic, or something, that the fire stations fire alarm would be broken, but he can’t find himself caring enough to pull up a chair, find the screwdriver, to care long enough to do something for it.

instead, he lays with his forearm over his eyes, counts the seconds in between the beeps, find the peace in the lull between the five seconds.

there’s parties to go to; things he could make himself do-instead, he lays in a twin sized mattress that lightly reeks of a delicate mixture of body odor and oil.

Last nights call plays in his head: what was suppose to be a harmless call for a ninety year old-the flash of fear in her eyes when he gets there, holding her hand and promising her it’ll be okay-

he sits up and flips the pillow over to the cooler side, hopes that makes a difference, tries to face the wall and count the markings that line the wall.

An alarm blares over head.

he wonders if he squeezes his eyes shut long enough, picks the sides of the pillow up and slams it into his ears. instead, he sits up with a sigh, pulls his shoes up and says a hail mary to whatever supernatural powers be, wills it to be better.

The engine starts up, James, his partner forever, hops into the seat next to him and they’re off.

Three streets away in a yard only lit up by a fire, you find yourself borderline pacing.

The coughing didn’t bother you. At least, not at first.

The bonfire started hours ago, before the sun had set, hiding behind clouds and dipping in and out of them, as if it was an elaborate game of hide and seek that you were losing badly.

The coughing was almost expected. Peter and Paul, the two idiots together, disappeared off an hour ago with a large container of gasoline and a glint in their eye that you didn’t fully trust-honestly, you were surprised it took this long for it to catch up with you.

“Dude,” someone, you think his name is Scott, a friend of a friend, speaks up: “The first cough is whatever. The second? Sure. but the third? Can you please get it together?”

It’s dramatic.

an anxious habit, your hands go to the side of your hand, nail to your head to scratch at an invisible itch.

"Hey," Scott says in-between the coughs, scratches at his throat, "what's in these brownies anyways?"

Peter speaks up: "Nothing ground breaking. A family recipe-"

"Oh, please," Ava snorts, "Is the family recipe from a box found at Meijer's?"

"Fuck off, you're disrespecting my dead Nana," Peter puffs his chest out, "Who's dead, by the way, you sick fuck-"

"Guys," Scott is borderline wheezing, "The brownies?"

Peter rolls his eyes, "Oil, mix.." He ticks them off on his fingers, "Oh, I added some chopped walnuts in, to spice them up-"

"Stop trying to make 'spice them up' happen. Your Nana did not say that."

"Walnuts?" his eyes go wide, "I'm allergic-"

it's a blur after that. Yelling, running around, phone calls with fingers shoved in their ears to block out the noise, frantic googling that yielded no results

Honestly, the first thought you had when you saw him was relief. you wonder if that's what he's use to; the guardian angel status, the way he walks into a room with authority, like nothing actually scares him

Ava walks next to him, although it's less walking and more running, trying to run to keep up with his strides

You have Scott leaning against a dead tree trunk, his shirt ripped off in a panic, his hand on his throat as if he could scratch the itch out-your hand rests over his, your face close to him as you try to talk him off an invisible ledge.

"You're going to be fine," You're saying, trying to convince yourself, more than anything, "by tomorrow this is going to be a funny memory we'll all look back at-"

Hasan recognizes this-knows that it's you more panicked than him, and he realizes how out of his element he is-needs to rescue a cat in a tree, reset a fire alarm-

EMS comes in first, breaks up the two of you-you take the hint, inch further away so you're not in the way, but can still hear what’s going on-if he’ll make it.

“Hey.”

your head whips up. eyes stinging, didn’t realize you were crying until the familiar pinch came.

“Hey,” you shake your head, “sorry. Am i in the way?”

The taller man shrugs, “he’s good. James got him, too.”

He studies you for a second.

“are you okay?”

before you can answer stuff is flying from his belt; a smaller pack hits by your feet, a walkie talkie inches from your toes-

he plops down next to you with a groan, like that took a lot out of him.

Panic looms. blooms in your chest, fills it, threatens to take over-

“here.”

he digs in his jeans and pulls out a caramel candy, holds it by the wrapper.

“isn’t that an old man candy?”

you sniffle but a shaky hand reaches out, grabs it and unwraps it.

“it’s Hasan, by the way.” the man says gently, eyes downcast as he unwraps his own, “and it’s not.”

finally some comfort, the rise of panic crashing like a wave in your chest as it retreats for now.

“Hasan the old man,” you settle on, “got it.”

two

"You've got to be kidding me."

Hasan chomps on gum as if he doesn't have a care in the world

"I know the medical emergency was a little above your pay grade," You hope your voice doesn't come out as shaky as it feels, "So I figured saving my cat would be more up your alley."

He snorts, rolls his eyes as he cranes his neck to look up the tree.

"What's it's name?"

"My name?" You scratch at your neck, not sure how this is relevant but if it saves your cat-

"No," hasan says slowly, "The cat-"

"Oh."

You hope he doesn't see the rising red splash across your face

"Tomato," You clear your throat, "Tomato is the asshole who thought it was a good idea to climb a tree at five in the morning when i have an interbiew in an hour and my hair is still wet-"

and my hair is still wet- your hand flies to your head, where a towel is still damp and wrapped around your head, stained and worn with age-past hair colors stained and marked the towel up

"Hey,"

Hasan's voice brings you down, crashes you back to earth. Instead of the rising heat on your face and the worried roar in your head, your back in your front yard. Hasan stands in front of you-a too tight uniform shirt across his chest, stained, a mop of curly hair and a constellation of freckles across his face.

wide eyed, looking at you, his hands on either side of your arms:

“you’re fine,” he’s saying, “Tomato is fine. i’ll get her down in time.” he hesitates for a second, considers the weight behind it, “i promise.”

he turns to the tree before you can see him flustered:

“what a fucking stereotype,” he sighs, calls over his shoulder, his shoulders already aching from the work out he’s about to get: “got a ladder?”

there’s a quick fight between you two (“just tell me where the ladder is“ “you’re going to save tomato! you can’t carry the ladder too!”) before he throws his hands up and makes his way to the small shed in the corner of the yard, ignoring you, all but marching back to the scene of the crime.

“can you hold the ladder?” he says gently, before a smile paints across his face, “can you handle that much?”

the bastard is smirking now. in the sunlight his freckles are more pronounced, can trace the lines of them on his face.

“shouldn’t you have someone with you?” you’re calling up gently as he scales up a ladder. he’s clicking his tongue as he does so.

he doesn’t answer:

“i fucking hate cats,” he’s saying instead, “murderous, ungrateful bastards-“

his fingers reach out at the branch, so close to touching Tomatoes tail-he hisses, climbs up another branch.

“I don’t think he likes me.” Hasan huffs, scaling the tree higher

“can you blame him?” Nibbling fingernails, “some scary man is climbing up a ladder and invading his space-“

“handsome?”

head titled back as he slowly climbs the ladder, “what?”

“a handsome man, i assume you said,” hasan continues, silence for a second before there’s light rustling; a branch falls, a bundle of leaves-you’re about to ask if he’s okay before he retreats back, an orange bundle under his arm, meowing and yelling at him as he carefully climbs down. Heavy gear clatters around him, and you worry about it falling off of him for a second

once his feet are down he continues:

“a handsome man,” he finishes, “who rescued your cat, right?”

silence

“right?”

“thank you, hasan.”

three

you run through the list in your head: eggs, milk, loaf of bread-

music seems to blare around you. wraps around you, makes your head pound-your only plan to try and get out as quickly as you can.

Faces pass; none familiar, all just as frantic and busy as you are-

cans of soup- your eyes scan the shelves, falls on the familiar red branding-fingers reach out, almost grasp it-fall

again.

reach, fingers brush against it-push it back a little further.

“mother fucker-“

“need help?”

the voice is familiar. too familiar. your eyes narrow, back still to them.

“i think you need me at this point,” the voice is almost gleeful, “should just follow you round to help-what is it? chicken noodle? you look like a chicken noodle soup enjoyer”

“it’s tomato.” you grumble unhappily.

“tomato?” he turns around, head over his shoulder, “hmm.”

he looks tired. bags under his eyes, hair a million different directions, shirt is untucked and stained-a pen cap is hanging on for dear life at the neck of a stretched out shirt.

“shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“shouldn’t you be calling the fire department for something?”

“awe,” you finally smile, snatching the can, “you do miss my calls-“

“when they see your number they automatically dispatch me to you. you’re a liability.”

you reach for the can but he holds it higher in the air, a smirk creeps on his face:

“what do you say?”

a huff, “please?” you try, “pretty please?”

he rolls his eyes: “there’s no way you think that’s what i want.”

“who’s your favorite fire fighter?”

“what’s your partners name? Rob? He is-“

he huffs, turns his back to you and sets the can back on the shelf, his fingers still brush against the can as he hums like he’s considering his own soup options-

“hasan, please. my chili depends on you-“

he ignores you, still humming, as you pull on his shirt:

“you’re my favorite firefighter,” you find yourself saying, “it hurts to say that.”

he turns around, hands you the can: “was that so hard?”

four

weeks pass. with job deadlines on the horizon, your apartment all but falling apart-it’s easy to forget about about anyone else.

sleep finally finds you. a cold side of the pillow, eyes finally shut-

a fire alarm blares that makes you shoot out of bed. tomato lays at your feet, grabbing him, running outside to the yard, sweater long forgotten.

by the time you’re at the yard, you can at least see the building isn’t burning up. in fact, you can’t see anything. you weigh your options for a second, considering ignoring the blaring fire alarms before you hear the fire truck and groan, knowing what’s coming up, knowing who’s around the corner.

the second the car parks everyone is running out, talking into walkie talkies-

“is this you?” hasan calls as he jogs past you, “you’re an arsonist at this point-“

you go to yell back and he’s gone.

an hour later he appears. his hair is disheveled, his shoulders slump. he walks next to his partners, something in his hand-

“if you need cooking lessons, i volunteer,” hasan says, “i can teach you how to fucking make ramen-“

“why do you assume that i’m behind all bad things that happen here?”

“your track record doesn’t help,” he says, “to begin with. and this has your name written all over it. please,” he stops, drops the pan and claps his hands together as if begging: “let me teach you how to cook.”

“it wasn’t fucking me!”

his eyes narrow: “Please. no one believe you-“

“you’re a dick. don’t you have a donut to eat? or-“

“that’s police officers, idiot.” he huffs, “and fuck them, anyways. look-“

he stops, leans into you, “i know just the place. i’ll teach you-“

“you aren’t teaching me how to cook! and it’s not me!”

“fine,” his eyes narrow, “but the next call here, if it’s yours, i take you to a cooking class-“

“what-“

“even if it isn’t your call. you owe me a date.”

his hand outstretched to you: “a deals a deal-“

“what’s in it for me?”

“i’ll leave you alone.”

you groan, knowing that’s not going to happen. sunrise threatens to fall over the horizon, and you know he won’t give up anytime soon-

your hand falls into his-larger and calloused-slips into his like a missing puzzle piece, like a perfect piece-

“it’s a deal.”

five

look, this isn’t bribing.

but after your fourth call to your apartment this month, you figured you at least owed them something for coming out-even if they somehow always sent just Hasan out-

you couldn’t sleep, anyways. or at least, that’s your excuse. the tray of baked goods threatens to fall out of the seat any second.

The door to the station is open, all the workers walking around, half suspenders down, shirts untucked, plates of food half eaten-

you couldn’t find your guy in the line up,is your first thought. before you quickly shake your head, trying to get that idea out as quickly as it came. he isn’t your guy. if anything, he’s the pain in the ass who keeps saving your ass-

putting the car in park, saying a prayer before grabbing the plate and walking in, hoping you look more confident than you feel.

“Well,” one of the firefighter smirks as you show up, “have any batteries that need to be changed?” he teases, “or is cilantro in trouble? hasan hasn’t shut up-“

“it’s tomato,” hasan appears behind him, “i know my mortal enemies name.”

“look what the cat dragged in-“

“it’s almost like you’re at the place where i work. imagine that-“

“i made brownies.”

the guy next to him immediately perks up, grabs the plate and pulls back tinfoil: “thank you!”

hasan stops him before he can run off, grabs a brownie before he can leave, eyes it as you stand in front of him.

“so,” he says, “what’s the trick with this? i don’t have any allergies-“

“damn. nut allergies are the most common allergies. i thought that’s how i could take you out-“

“and they aren’t burned-“

“that wasn’t me with the ramen, you dick.”

“these look good.”

“always the tone of surprise,” you roll your eyes, “most people would say thank you.”

“why would i say thank you before I’m potentially poisoned?”

“you’re insufferable.”

“here,” he smirks, “you take the first bite.”

“i’m not hungry-“

“that’s exactly what someone who poisoned food would say to get out to eating it.”

“you’re a dick, give it to me.”

“ah,” he says instead when you reach for it, his hand still on the brownie as he leans forward, a hand cupped under your mouth as he goes to feed you the bite.

“this is outrageous,” you roll your eyes as pink rises up, but don’t put up more of a fight as it makes contact, as you bite off, “it’s delicious”

he watches you carefully as you chew

“see?” you roll your eyes: “now you.”

“eh?” he shrugs, “i don’t know how hungry i am-“

you gasp and he giggles, before shoving it in his mouth:

“not bad.” he settles on.

+1

“if you’re looking for your guy, he called in sick.”

you aren’t proud of the fact that they know who you’re really here for, and less that you know the man who yelled that-Michael-will proudly tell hasan that.

“what?” you tease, “the big baby can’t handle a little bit of a cold?”

he snorts: “he did the kids fire safety at the elementary school this week-he blames them.”

“what a baby.”

you try and make polite small talk. they’re all fine-the entire time, thinking of the plan you’re already cooking in your head.

everyone knows where he lives. the house was famous before the newest fire fighter bought it (and when you’re in a small town like this, a new guy on the team is a big deal, gets around) and in the center of town, you pass it every day on your way to and from work: seeing him leave in the morning, at night, still in his uniform, shirt untucked and wrinkly as he moves around his front yard: tends to the garden on the side of the house (looks like he’s very proud of his herbs he’s growing, at least) hunched over as he flicks his tongue and has a small ceramic bowl of kibble for the gang of cats that seem attached to him-

a quick stop at the only grocery store in town, the paper bag of groceries on your lap, your stomach bubbles and bursts as you worry your lip about this-

you park the car and find yourself in front of his house before you can talk yourself out of it.

tapping your foot, waiting for him to answer-

“hullo?”

he still looks good, even sick.

glasses crooked on his face, his hair a mess, the tip of his nose is red, lines over his freckles from a pillow-

he groans. stands in the doorway, his hand against the doorframe.

“i’m off duty,” he tries, “you’ll have to put out your own fire-“

“heard the kids made you sick,” you say instead, ruffling through the plastic bag on your wrist, “nothing ramen can’t help.”

“ramen?” he laughs, “like-“

“it wasn’t me!” you insist, can feel your heart thump in your ears, “let me redeem myself; make you some soup.”

“i can’t call the fire department-“

“if i start a fire i’ll put it out myself, i promise.”

he laughs: “i guess i’d like to see that.”

comfortable silence for a second.

“so?” you push, “the soup?”

his eyes narrow for a second before his hand slowly slides up the doorframe, an invitation in-you duck and act like you can’t see the smile light up his face

[runscold-runsdeep]

Squeeze

Terzo X Omega - Dark Cardiophilia

Warnings/disclaimers: dark cardiophilia, fluff-ish, arguing, near death experience, heart failure, arithmetic heartbeat, demonic magic induced injury, Google Translate Italian for one phrase.

Word count: 800+

///Author’s note

I finally got it written!!! It’s short, and probably undeserving of a banner that took too much effort to make, but I wanted to scrub off the rust and get back into the swing of things. I’m gonna be adding a tag list to my fics from now on, so be sure to let me know if you want on!

🫀⸸⛧⸸🫀

The room was dark, the only light being the flicker of the TV displaying a horror film with Terzo scooted as close to Omega as he could, the mortal being curled up into the demon’s side. Omega enjoyed this closeness though, wrapping an arm around Terzo to keep him cozy. Despite the volume of the TV not being turned down low and Omega not having his ear pressed against Terzo's chest, he could still hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, occasionally quickening in response to the suspenseful moments in the movie.

Unable to resist the urge, Omega slid his hand down to Terzo’s chest, feeling the gentle, rhythmic beat of his heart against his palm, which made Terzo smile and lean closer to him. Despite his best efforts to concentrate on the movie playing in front of them, something about Terzo’s heart in that moment kept drawing his attention away. A sort of curiosity was nagging at him.

Ever since he was summoned and his natural talents for healing and caretaking were discovered, he found himself dedicating most of his spare time in The Ministry’s infirmary whenever he wasn’t with Ghost or alone with Terzo. The infirmary became a sort of sanctuary, a place where he could learn about the intricacies of the human body and its many ailments. However, amidst all the knowledge he was gaining, there were curiosities that lingered in his thoughts, and one of those questions kept pushing itself to the forefront of his mind. What happened if a heart was squeezed?

He tried to push this thought away once more. He would never test such a thing on his partner of all people. He would rather be sent to the ruthless hounds of Hell than to purposely hurt Terzo to answer such a ridiculous question… But at the same time, he also wanted to know how exactly Terzo’s heart specifically would react to such a thing. As he thought over this dilemma, his mind was clouded with conflict. On one hand, he felt a sense of guilt for even considering such a cruel experiment. On the other hand, curiosity gnawed at him, and whatever damage was done to his heart, he could always reverse it.

A purple light in the corner of Terzo's eye caught his attention, forcing his eyes away from the TV to look in the light's direction. Omega's hand was in a grasping position, aglow like ignited hand sanitizer. As Terzo's gaze lingered on the mysterious light, his lips parted to question Omega, but all that escaped was a wince. As Omega’s talons closed, a tightness formed in Terzo’s chest and a sharp pain began to shoot through his jaw and arm. As he felt his heart begin to stumble, his eyes widened, realizing now what Omega was doing. The sound of his pounding heart filled the room, drowning out all other noise as fear and confusion clouded his mind.

“O…Omega..!” Terzo gasped out, clutching at his chest and watching helplessly as Omega's claws tightened their grip around his heart, slowly squeezing it with his demonic powers, “Omega, s—stop!” He leaned against the ghoul, the pain and his failing heart causing his consciousness to wane.

And at once, Omega did, letting go of Terzo's heart and placing his large hand on the mortal's chest, taking in the pain he had inflicted. His own heart started to falter and ache now as he absorbed the injuries that had once belonged to Terzo.

Terzo closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he took in several deep breaths, trying to regulate his heart and his nerves before his eyes shot open, his head jerking to face his partner, glaring at him. “Tu... Tu fottuto idiota!” He exclaimed, “Wh—What the hell came over you?! You almost… you could have fucking killed me!”

Omega, who more than expected this reaction from Terzo, sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do that?” Terzo pressed his hand to his chest, as if trying to reassure himself that his heart was still beating.

Omega shrugged. “I was curious.”

“…You were curious.” Terzo repeated as he blinked at the demon, as stunned as he was furious. “You tried to kill me just to satisfy some curiosity?!”

“I mean,” Omega exhaled, pausing to choose his his words, “I wasn’t trying to kill you—“

Terzo glared at the ghoul, his white eye bearing a more intense coldness than it normally did, which made Omega cower just slightly.

“…I—I, uh… I wasn’t gonna push you that far. I was gonna stop before you reached that point. And I did.” Omega stammered, averting his gaze from Terzo’s.

Terzo huffed, shaking his head slightly as he curled back up with the demon, snuggling up against him. “Just… warn me next time you try something stupid like that.” He grumbled, “And look, I've missed a part of the movie because of you!” He complained, which forced a small chuckle from Omega as he pulled Terzo close.

“Want me to rewind it?” Omega offered, nuzzling his nose against the top of Terzo’s head.

“No, I’ll figure out what I missed later.” Terzo settled back into Omega’s hold as the ghoul draped his arm around him. Omega turned his attention back to the TV, feeling content at last even though his heart still throbbed and ached with an unsettling rhythm. He hoped that the discomfort would pass soon…

[amyntasmediaworksindia]

Do You Need A Google Cloud Partner In India

[onixcloud]

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[halfetirosie]

♡ An Edmond-Post for the struggling fanfic writers ♡

(NOTE: This post will be LONG. I tried to be thorough and include evidence.)

I feel an AGGRESSIVE MORAL OBLIGATION to make this post because of the writing homies that want to write Edmond into their fics, but feel like they don't know enough about him.

My recent Character-Ask post for Edmond might help you guys a little, but I think you could use more information.

The NU: Carnival Lore Spreadsheet (Google Sheets)

This isn't an Edmond-exclusive resource, but still helpful.

If you don't spend any time on the subreddit, you may not have seen this, but this is a fan-made lore spreadsheet contains information the game's world and each of the characters. It hasn't been updated for a little over 3 months, so it's a bit outdated, but it is teeming with practical information that can help familiarize you with characters' backgrounds and such.

(Quick note for Edmond's "Power" category-- although he is unfamiliar with actually using magic, in Frozen Echoes/Tranquil Cloud Edmond intimacy rooms, we discover that Edmond has recently started to practice magic (particularly Light/healing magic).)

2. The current Edmond Era (the most recent Ed Dynamic)

Many people seem to be intimidated by the prospect of writing Edmond because he's a "tsundere." However, to borrow the words from my Character Ask post, "that’s only out of habit (and shyness), rather an actual reflection of his desires." In other words, Ed's inner workings probably look something like this:

It also is noteworthy that, when Eiden initiates sexual activity, Edmond willingly goes along with him. By that I mean, he might scold Eiden a lot and say something to the effect of, "You are a pervert!" but he doesn't actually tell Eiden to stop what he's doing when they're starting out. And while it doesn't happen as often in recent rooms, the habitual "Stop♡" and "No♡" Edmond might say are very clearly insincere, considering his tone of voice (as well as his physical reactions).

And during the rare occasions where Ed does tell Eiden something like "Stop," Eiden will stop; but then Ed will look disappointed, so Eiden will ask him if he wants to continue, and Edmond will say yes. Here's an example of this type of exchange from Sweet Aroma R2:

There have also been times when [we can infer], at the beginning of H-activities, Eiden doesn't have as clear of a read on Edmond's opinion; in which case, he will verbally search for confirmation on whether he can do more. The most accessible example of this is Ed's SR R3:

Here is another example, from Tranquil Cloud R5:

While Eiden is still the one that initiates sexy activity (14/16 of the Ed H scenes), Edmond willingly goes along immediately. That is the crux of the typical Edmond dynamic: Edmond also has strong desires, but is usually too embarrassed to admit them, so he needs an understanding partner that will guide him along until he feels secure enough [and/or horny enough] to admit his wants.

Edmond is in a bit of a transition period right now. He's starting to be much more active in his H-activities with Eiden. He also might "blame" Eiden for his own desires, but he's beginning to own up to his feelings, too. From Tranquil Cloud R2:

3. Edmond Anatomy & Kinks

One word: SENSITIVE. Edmond is HELLA SENSITIVE.

(I'd argue he's even more sensitive than Olivine, but idk if you could consider that a definitive fact or not.)

If there's an area that can be considered a relatively common erogenous zone, it's most likely an erogenous zone on Edmond. Here's the one's that have been canonically confirmed or STRONGLY suggested:

Mouth - Edmond's mouth is very sensitive. When he kisses for the first time in Sweet Aroma, Eiden coaxes him into admitting which specific parts of his mouth are most sensitive; roof of his mouth, tongue, sides. Edmond likes kissing a LOT, and has initiated kisses himself at least 3 times (Elite Instructor R5, Flaming Secret R5, Tranquil Cloud R5)

Ears - Ed has a strong reaction in Tranquil Cloud R2 (Eiden blowing on his ear helps send him over the edge to finally cum)

Neck - Eiden kisses his neck and Ed has a verbal reaction in Tranquil Cloud R5

Nipples - Best example is in Sweet Aroma R2 (he can cum from nipple-play alone); also featured in Spring Chaos R2 and Elite Instructor R2

Hands - Many rooms include Suggestive Hand-Holding™ but White Lover R2 includes significant hand-pay

Stomach/Waist - White Lover R2 includes Eiden caressing Ed's stomach, and in Tranquil Cloud R2 Ed has a strong reaction to Eiden tightening his hold on his waist

Ass - In Elite Instructor R2 Edmond gets spanked and he is VERY into it

Penis - *obvious answer is obvious*

Anus - Has cum from anal-play alone multiple times (including fingering and rimming). It isn't explicitly sated, but I'm pretty sure Edmond's anus is more sensitive than his penis

Additional canon sexual preferences:

A Little Pain - As is famously known, Edmond enjoys a little pain during sex

Praise & Dirty Talk - Gets very embarrassed by it (and will usually scold Eiden) but he has strong positive reactions to it

Roleplay + Dom/Sub Undertones - We see it in SR R5; once Ed is convinced to try it out he gets extremely aroused and feels more comfortable engaging in *mild* dirty-talk himself. It's also sorta-kinda in Elite Instructor R2, but only a little bit on Eiden's part (calling Ed "teacher")

Kissing - I mentioned it before, but I must emphasize it again; EDMOND LOVES KISSING

Overstimulation - Most Ed intimacy rooms include some element of this

Semi-Public Sexy Stuff? - Depending on if you count sex-in-a-carriage, this happens in 7-8/16 intimacy rooms. Idk if this is necessarily Ed's personal kink, but Ed isn't exactly opposed to it as long as Eiden is being careful. He does appear to get excited when Edmond says something like "don't be too loud, or someone will come and see you like this!" From Elite Instructor R2:

Light Bondage - Only seen is Elite Instructor R2, but he seems to like it:

4. Some Ao3 reading recommendation that you can use for Edmond-specific inspiration/references

As a passionate Edmond-Lover, here are some works of fanfic that I think do a particularly good job of writing Ed-relationships. Obviously (by the nature of fanfic) many of them take a lot of liberties, but when I was reading these stories, I didn't need to suspend my disbelief at all. The way Edmond acts in these stories feels very in-character to me.

(NOTE: All of these recommendations are NSFW where Edmond bottoms. Be sure to read their tags!)

Literally everything luster_candy has written (6 works at the time I'm posting this) - just be aware all of it is Eiden/Edmond.

Reprieve, Release by kkuro (~11k words) - Eiden/Edmond, one of the best (if not the best) BDSM-heavy Ed fics. Only note is, because this was written in 2022, Ed acts a bit more stiff/repressed in the beginning than he would now. In-character for Early Era Edmond tho.

A Helpful Hand by dracula (orphan_account) (~4.3k words) - Olivine/Edmond, Olivine tops (a rarity) and Ed is cursed with a V. Don't worry, Olivine-Lovers, he isn't a hella OOC sadist or ultra-masculine dom. XD Just very sweet and very horny, and Edmond is ruthlessly subjected to his brand of horny nonsense.

Do You Know Where the Wild Things Go by no birdstofly (~8k words) - Yakumo/Edmond, idk if it's OOC for Yakumo but it's in-character for Current Era slightly-more-honest Edmond.

The Knight's Discipline by RiyeRose (~3k words) - Restricted to Ao3 members, Kuya/Edmond. I subscribe to the belief that Ed would put up with Kuya if he were horny enough, which is why I don't consider this OOC. I think this fic has the perfect amount of BDSM that Ed would realistically enjoy.

Fanfic where Edmond tops is honestly very hard to come across. That's understandable, because for Edmond to top, there would have to be extremely special circumstances, and it would have to be written carefully in order to not seem too OOC. The best example of an Top-Emond fic I've been able to find is this:

Hidden Guidance by Okami01 (~1.9k words) - Edmond/Olivine, Edmond shyly admits he wants to try topping Olivine, and Oli is obviously down for it. (Let's be honest here; out of everyone, if Edmond were ever to top anyone, it would 100% be Olivine)

♡I hope people found this helpful!!!♡

I know reading this giant post was like reading an essay, but hopefully it was worth the time and effort I put into it!

If anyone has extra inquires, or if other Edmond-Lovers want to chime in with extra information I might've missed, feel free to put them in the comments!

[valkyyriia]

Hello! If the request are still open I’d like to make one 😊 This is my first time requesting something so I apologize if I missed anything 🙏🏻

I’d like to request Comte as the suitor(established relationship) and rain for the prompt. Thank you 😊

A Deluge of Feelings

Words: 1401 CW: None | SFW Tags: Fluff, Non-Sexual Nudity, Google Translate French, Spoilers for Comte's name, Minor Characters from Comte's Route Prompt: Comte + Rain Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain / Reader

Note: Absolutely no worries Hikari! There's a first time for everything 😊 Glad to have another Comte enjoyer here! He's my favorite suitor!

I had several other ideas for this fic that I ended up stashing away for a rainy day (pun fully intended). I really do love Comte. ♥

Also posted on AO3 here.

When you left for the ball earlier this evening, the sky had been clear; nary a cloud in sight. The sun had been near setting when you had climbed into the carriage, its rays painting the evening sky with gorgeous shades of peach and orange. You made a mental note to ask Vincent - or Leonardo, if he felt productive - to try to paint a nineteenth-century Paris sunset for you one of these days.

So when you heard the telltale rumbles of thunder in the distance soon after arriving, it caught you - and your partner - by surprise. You had been talking to your friend, a nobleman's daughter by the name of Claudine, when the manor's windows rattled from the shockwave. Rain began to fall in light droplets, a soft pitter-patter cascading against the roof. Your partner, the ever-elegant Comte de Saint-Germain, quickly made his way to your side.

"Claudine, it's always a pleasure to see you," he greeted the other girl amicably. She curtsied and addressed him in kind, before excusing herself with a cheeky grin in your direction. Your response was a not-so-ladylike roll of the eyes, your own attention returning to the nobleman by your side.

Le Comte watched her walk off, his brow furrowed. The way girls behaved was still a mystery to him, even after God knows how many centuries of life. He would always be doomed to wonder in this regard, he supposed. Some things weren't meant to be understood.

Returning to the matter at hand, Comte placed a large hand on your back and drew you close, kissing your temple and murmuring into your ear. "We should try to get home before it gets any worse, Ma Chérie. I don't want to stay out and risk you catching cold or us getting stuck in town."

He swiftly guided you towards the doors of the manor house to call for your carriage. The rain, however, had other ideas. As you neared the door the soft droplets turned into a torrential downpour; sheets of rain fell from the sky like gauzy curtains, obscuring all but the brightest of lights. Water ran in dark, snaking rivulets across the cobblestone paths,

The pureblooded vampire exchanged a quick word with the coachman by the door. The watery onslaught was so deafening you were unable to make out much of what they were saying, but you assumed it had something to do with the carriages.

After a moment, your hypothesis was confirmed. Comte turned to you, an apologetic smile on his face.

"We won't be able to take a carriage back to the mansion in this weather, between the flooding and the low visibility. The coachman isn't certain they'd even be able to make it to the city's residential district with how bad it is," he said, kissing your forehead. "For now, we should just try to enjoy ourselves for a bit longer and hope the rain passes by."

The two of you returned inside, le Comte remaining by your side this time. He continued to greet the other nobles who approached the two of you, his hand secure on your hip. You stood by him, a placid smile on your face as you played the part of a nobleman’s partner.

Soon, you found yourselves dancing together on the ballroom floor, enjoying each other’s company as you waited for the storm to subside. Unfortunately, it seemed as though there was no end in sight. The rain continued to pour, quickly dashing any hopes you had had of returning home tonight. Normally this situation would bring you stress, but you found the thought of being stranded in town for the night didn’t bother you that much. You were with Comte, and you knew that he would stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Le Comte checked his pocket watch, a graceful frown marring his face. It had gotten quite late already, and with no sign of the rain letting up, your choices were dwindling. At your questioning glance, he smiled reassuringly.

“These things happen. We can predict the weather, but we can’t ever be fully certain how it’s going to be. It’s no matter,” Comte spoke, lovingly brushing a stray hair out of your face. “We will just have to brave the weather and head for a nearby inn, I’m afraid.”

Before you could speak up, you were interrupted by a familiar, loud voice.

“Ah, Comte de Saint-Germain,” he said. You immediately recognized this as the Duke de Guermantes, Comte’s friend and Claudine’s father. He smiled at you, greeting you as well.

You knew the Duke de Guermantes rather well, all things considered; he was the father of one of your only female friends in this time period, as well as a friend of Comte’s.

“Monsieur le Duc,” you replied in kind with a curtsy.

He turned back to le Comte with a friendly smile. “I see the two of you are stuck in town for the evening, non? The carriages won’t run in this weather.”

“I’m afraid you’re correct,” Comte agreed with resignation. “We had hoped the rain would let up long enough for us to return home, but I suppose le des intempéries had other plans.” He smiled amiably. “We were going to brave the outdoors soon and go to one of the inns nearby for the evening.”

The Duke de Guermantes shook his head dramatically. “I think not! I would make quite the poor host to force one of my dearest friends and his partner leave the safety and comfort of my home in un orage. Non, you shall stay here for the night.”

Le Comte’s features were painted in surprise. “Are you certain? I would hate for us to impose on such short notice.”

“Nonsense,” the Duke waved him off. “I shall not hear of it. You could never impose.”

“Merci beaucoup,” Comte said. “We are very grateful for your hospitality.”

Soon, you were both shown to a guest room in the Duke’s manor. Rain still beat against the windows, drowning out any other sounds.

Comte stepped up behind you, his hands deftly picking out several of the pins holding your hair up. As your hair came loose of its confines, his fingers gently combed through the strands. You sighed into his touch.

Comte’s hands slid down to your shoulders and he kissed the top of your head.

“Je t’aime,” he murmured, turning you around in his arms and brushing a hand against your cheek. “I am sorry we could not make it home tonight, Ma Chérie.”

You smiled back at him, leaning into his palm. “It’s alright, Abel. I’m happy to go anywhere so long as it’s with you.”

Le Comte’s golden eyes were filled with an indescribable deep emotion in response to your words. His hand drifted to your chin and tilted it up, his lips crashing into yours for a hungry kiss. He soon broke away from you, grimacing in discomfort.

You frowned, your hand cupping his cheek. “What is it, Abel?”

He just shook his head in response and took your hand in his, pulling it from his face. Your eyes widened in understanding.

“When did you last eat?” You murmured.

His eyes drifted to yours and he smiled knowingly. “I’m not hungry,” he murmured. “Not for anything but you, at least.”

Your cheeks flushed, but your frown deepened. You went to step away but his other hand came to grasp your waist and hold you there.

“It will pass, as it always does,” he assured you. “Un moment, s’il vous plait.”

You turned back around and began to unlace your dress. You were surprised when his fingers joined yours almost immediately, assisting you in shedding the garment. His fingers lightly skimmed over the skin that was now laid bare before him.

“You are beautiful, Ma Chérie. I still find it hard to believe that in the endless sea of eternity, I found you.” He kissed your bare shoulder. “However much I should like to ravish you this evening, I fear we must get to bed,” Comte sighed. “We still have to head back home in the morning and I think we should not abuse le Duc’s hospitality.”

With a pout, you agreed and crawled into bed with him, nestling against his warmth comfortably. He kissed your forehead. “Bonne nuit, mon amour,” Le Comte whispered. “Je t'aime, maintenant et pour toujours.”

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[khwxbeeda]

Indian Dark Academia: Pune

(all of these are my experiences since moving to the city at the end of July this year)

.

The Peth areas are convoluted, haphazardly arranged and teeming with life. You walk through a lane crammed with stalls of fake jewellery, and you want to buy every pair of jhumka and bugdi you can see. You raise your phone and take a close up, deciding that you're gonna post it. (You never do. That picture feels personal, somehow, in a way you cannot explain.)

There is a plaza in Good Luck Chowk on FC road whose basement has a somewhat hidden bookshop. The books there are both fresh and second hand. You make your way to the second-hand shelves and breathe in deeply, savouring the smell of old books and yellowing paper. You want to buy all of them, but you take home the worn copy of a collection of Marathi stories. The old man at the counter gives you a bookmark and tells you to be back with a wide smile and crinkling eyes. (You go back within the week.)

You stand under the dubious protection of a patryacha chhat, cold fingers wrapped around a mud tumbler full of steaming aalyacha chaha. The rain does not look like it will stop anytime soon, but you're not worried. Your best friend is standing next to you with her own tumbler, and both of you are giggling at a story she tells you about her own college— she lives in Mumbai and is visiting for a day, just to spend time with you because she missed you. You silently hope the rain does not stop for a while yet; you're having too much fun.

The sun is high in the sky, but it hides behind rain clouds. You take a step, the soles of your sports shoes scraping over the uneven rock of the tekdi that you decided to explore on an impulse. You're alone, with only the trees and the dog that randomly decided to follow you up the hill in sight. Invisible birds chirp and sing, and you slide your phone out of your pocket to take a photo of the unbeaten path. A little part of you fears getting lost in an unknown place. The bigger, more curious part of you wants to know why the wind sounds so melodious when it slips between the leaves of the trees. You'll post the photo, you think, once you're home.

The college is quiet. It's seven in the morning, and you're already on campus, and have climbed up the walls of the main building to reach that unreachable part of the roof. Except it isn't as unreachable as you thought it to be— the walls are engraved with little messages from the students who came here before you, and you brush your fingers over the letters with a secret smirk. Someone had enough love in their heart to carve a short Urdu love poem for their partner. You search up the words on Google, but the results are inconclusive. An original piece, then. Shame, you think. That is beautiful wordplay. You take a photo, then go back to your book. Class starts at half past seven, and you want to finish at least this chapter.

The library is packed with people, but all of them are silent. It's eerie, but you've been living in libraries for as long as you can remember, and you're perfectly at home in this silence. It feels like being in a temple— there is a awed, almost devotional hush in the air, and you fear that you will breathe too loud. You slip between two darkwood shelves, and brush your fingers over the spine of an old hardbound collection of the works of Pu La Deshpande that looks like it will fall apart any second. You've read this one before, but you check it out anyway.

The exam is tomorrow, but you're sitting in the light of three diyas and feverishly flicking your eyes over the pages of your tattered copy of the Hindi translation of Chokher Bali. This is the eleventh time you're reading the book, but you're still obsessed with it for reasons unknown. Pariksha gayi bhaad mein, you think, and flip the page. The next day, you turn up at the exam hall with bags under your eyes, a completed book, and not a second of studying. You walk out with a score of 19 out of 20, and promptly fall asleep under the shade in the bamboo garden with your head on a friend's lap.

.

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[topguncortez]

Goose helping you with ppd after having Bradley?

I changed this just a bit cause I had an idea that came to my mind so I hope that's okay:)

Stuck with me

warnings: child birth, postpartum depression, Goose being sickeningly adorable. Carole and Goose aren't together in this but they still have Bradley:)

word count: 1.5k

Goose Masterlist | One Year TG celebration

gif is not mine!! found on google

There was nothing that Nick Bradshaw loved more than being a father. Sure, flying with his best friend came in as a close second. But, coming home at the end of the day to his little boy who looked exactly like him would beat out the adrenaline rush of flying any day. So when you told him that he was going to be a father again, he was overjoyed. In fact, he fell to his knees crying, and hugged you, telling you thank you over and over for giving him another chance at being a dad. 

You couldn’t have asked for a better partner. Goose was by your side through the whole thing. He never missed an appointment (sometimes he even showed up earlier than you, coming from base and you from home). He knew all the milestones that the baby was reaching. You swore he knew more about what was going on with your body better than you did. You didn’t feel any sort of jealousy that this wasn’t Nick’s first pregnancy he was experiencing. It actually brought you some comfort having a partner who had done this before. He was on top of everything, making sure you were comfortable, stepping in to help you with Bradley, and getting the nursery all squared away. 

When you woke up in the middle of the night having contractions, Goose was as cool as he could be. You guessed it was those years of flying in the backseat with Maverick, childbirth was an easy cakewalk. Goose held your hand the whole time, wiping the sweat away from your forehead and holding your hair back when you got sick. He let the threats and curse words you shouted at him roll off his back, knowing the second the baby was placed on your chest, all this would fade away.

And that’s exactly what happened. 

The moment that Brie Elizabeth Bradshaw was placed on your chest, you were in tears and telling Goose that you were sorry for yelling at him. Goose was in such an awe state that he didn’t care about it. It was truly love at first sight when he looked at your little girl. You thought that you would be on cloud nine after giving birth. You thought that you’d go home, have this cute little family that you saw on TV, and everything would be alright. But no amount of books and TV shows could prepare you for how you really felt post-birth. 

You thought it was just exhaustion at first. Brie was fussy from the jump, the doctors told you that at the hospital. She didn’t latch on right away to breastfeed right, and when she did it was only for a few seconds at a time. It was frustrating for you, who wanted to do something that most mothers did. It seemed as though the only person who could calm her down was Goose. She’d cry and cry in your arms but the second Goose held her the crying would cease. Goose told you that was okay, that Brie could tell that you were tired and needed some rest and that once you got home everything would be better. 

But it didn’t get better. In fact, it almost seemed to get worse. 

It wasn’t Bradley’s fault that he was excited to have a new sister. He was only four and the new baby was like a shiny new toy. Goose had a talk with him about being gentle and letting you have your space, but that seemed to go right over Bradley’s head. The little boy wanted to be by your side for every single moment of every single thing. He was climbing up next to you when you fed Brie, or standing next to you on his little step stool when you changed her, or bringing her his toys when she was fussy to try and make her feel better. You tried your hardest to not just snap, knowing that the little boy didn’t know better. 

You had finally hit the wall and that’s when Goose realized this was more than just exhaustion from being a new mom with a toddler in the house. He saw the faraway look in your eyes as you did things like make bottles or wait for laundry. He noticed that every time Brie cried, you’d jump a bit and wait just a moment before going to tend to her, you looked near tears whenever Bradley would come up and try to “help” you with Brie, and you hardly engaged in a conversation with him. 

“So Mav apparently has gotten in trouble again,” Goose sighed as he pulled the blankets back, “Can you believe that? I step away to be a dad and my first child runs off and gets in trouble,” He chuckled and looked over to where you were sitting on the bed, “Baby?” 

“Hm?” You blinked and looked over your shoulder at him, “Mav’s in trouble?” 

“Yeah, he uh. . . that’s not important,” Goose shook his head, “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I’m fine, Goosey,” You tried your best to put a smile on your face but Goose could see right through that. He walked over to you and sat down next to you. He could see the unshed tears in your eyes and gently ran a hand through your hair. 

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Goose whispered, “It’s okay if you’re not.” 

You sucked in a breath, “Did this happen to Carole? D-did she feel like this?” You spoke through sobs and Goose quickly pulled you into his arms. He knew something really must be wrong if you were comparing yourself to his ex. You never did that. You always saw Carole as a friend and had reached out to her several times during your pregnancy. 

“Everyone feels differently, baby,” Goose said, rubbing your back, “What’s going on? Talk to me.” 

You shook your head, pulling away from Goose, “I’m just not good at this. I don’t know why I ever thought I was. I-I can’t make enough milk for her to eat. I can’t stop her from crying. She hates me, Goose. My baby hates me!” 

Goose shushed you and gently grabbed your face, brushing away the tears with the pad of his thumb, “Brie does not hate you. And none of this is your fault. The doctor even said she’s just a fussy baby. And not every woman on the planet can breastfeed, it’s alright.” 

“It’s not!” 

Goose knew better than to try and argue with you about it. Your mind and body were just too tired to be able to be rational. Instead, Goose gently picked you up in his arms and pulled you into his lap. He held you tightly, rocking you gently as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“It’ll be okay,” Goose whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “It’ll be okay.” 

— — — 

You knew you had slept way too long when you woke up with full, sore breasts. You moaned in pain as you walked down the hall toward Brie’s nursery, only to find it empty. Your heart started racing in your chest, as you raced down the steps as quickly as you could. Tears started to fill your eyes, the nightmares you had been having started to come true.

“Goose!” You gasped out, trying to keep your tears at bay. You stood in the middle of the living room, trying to catch your breath, pulling on the strands of your hair, “Nick! S-someone took Brie!” 

“What?” Goose’s eyebrows furrowed as he walked into the living room, “Sweetheart, breathe for me,” He gently took your hands from your hair, holding squeezing them gently, “What’s wrong?” 

“Someone took Brie!” You cried, “I-I’m so sorry! I tried my hardest to be a good-” 

“No, no,” Goose shook his head, “No one took her, I promise. She woke up crying and I got her so you could sleep. I didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart, she’s okay.” 

“What’s wrong with me!?” You cried and Goose pulled you into his arms. He gently pulled you to the couch, still keeping his arms around you. 

“There is not a single thing wrong with you,” He kissed your tear-stained cheek, “You’re just tired and overworked. I’m sorry I didn’t see it until now. I’m sorry I wasn’t more helpful with feedings and Bradley,” You opened your mouth to say something but Goose shook his head, “I’ve got the next week off so I can stay home and help you. Carole agreed to switch weeks to have Bradley. It’s just us, okay?” 

You nodded, sucking in a breath, “I think I need to see the doctor.” 

“That’s okay,” Goose said, kissing the crown of your head, “That’s totally, okay. I can call and make the appointment while you rest. Everything you’re going through is normal, I promise you. It’ll be okay, you’ll get through it.” 

“Just don’t leave me,” You mumbled against his chest. 

“Never in a thousand years will I leave my girls. Hate to say it sweetheart, but you’re stuck with me.”

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