#they are hurting you as an employee whether you feel it or not yet

[nientedal]

Consider "I'm writing to let you know I won't be in class on [date]" rather than "I will need to miss class." The latter is still quite soft and you run the risk of an authoritarian still saying yes I understand you need to, but no you still may not.

You're not asking. You're not saying what you need. You are telling them what's going to happen. It's not a discussion. The only discussion is what you can do to make up the missed time.

A general tip for students who are sending those dreaded Religious Absence Emails to your professors: Rather than asking permission to take the day(s) off, politely let them know that you will be taking the day(s) off.

In other words, consider not saying this:

"May I miss class on [date] so I can observe [holiday]?"

It's not that there's anything wrong with the above, per se. But because it's phrased as a request, it risks coming across as optional — a favor you hope to be granted. Problem is, favors are not owed, and so unfortunately asking permission opens the door for the professor to respond "Thanks for asking. No, you may not. :)"

Instead, try something along the lines of:

"I will need to miss class on [date] because I will be observing [holiday]. I wanted to let you know of this conflict now, and to ask your assistance in making arrangements for making up whatever material I may miss as a result of this absence."

This is pretty formal language (naturally, you can and should tweak it to sound more like your voice). But the important piece is that, while still being respectful, it shifts the focus of the discussion so that the question becomes not "Is it okay for me to observe my religion?", but rather, "How can we best accommodate my observance?

Because the first question should not be up for debate: freedom of religion is a right, not a favor. And the second question is the subject you need to discuss.

(Ideally, do this after you've looked up your school's policy on religious absences, so you know what you're working within and that religious discrimination is illegal. Just in case your professor forgot.)

[kittlyns]

I had yet another long, strenuous day yesterday and didn't finish work until super late and then I couldn't fall asleep until well past 2am cuz I was in so much pain from standing literally all day

[themeraldee]

SO WHAT IF: homelander got with a Female SO who is a screamer in bed. Not because it hurts but it feels sooo good. Better if she’s a quiet, timid employee at vought he finds endearing.

(He is so interesting. I can see him with strong women as seen in the show, but he would also like a submissive thing that fawns over him. He’s so versatile with ships!)

yessss yesssssssss

the semi-public sex would go HARD.

Also I'd love to see Homelander discover this. Such a difference to when they're just being cute and lovely or interacting at work. Here's her screaming his praises. Even though timid, she'd be making sure he knows how good it feels. Having had partners before who either found her vocal cries either disturbing or annoying, she wants to make sure he knows she's feeling good. All thanks to him.

Also at first she's super quiet and holds back, not wanting to be too much and freak him out. Until he forces it out of her one way or another...

lil 18+ snippet below cut

He knows you've always been reluctant to move your bedroom activities to other, more risky, places. Yet the thought of getting everyone to hear you get the life fucked out of you sounded too good to pass on.

"You gotta keep quiet for me sweetheart. Or everyone out there is gonna hear you sing for me." Except he has you on your back on your office desk, bent in half, knees next to your chest as he's stuffing you full of his cock. The squelching noise your bodies make on each slide is deafening enough without your screams and moans getting in the way.

Before he buried himself in you, he's spent good time getting you ready, feasting on your cunt until you were sopping wet and ready to take him the way you always want to. Full throttle without stopping.

And with each thrust you get louder and louder. You mumble just how good, ahh ahh, s'good it feels. How good he feels. It's barely coherent but Homelander licks up every word of praise from your lips.

Now that he's learned how to get you to let go he doesn't hesitate to abuse the sensitive spot inside you with short snappy thrusts until you sing for him freely.

Although there's no debating whether or not your moans are easily heard from the hallway, the answer comes swiftly anyway.

Someone knocks on the door. "Uhmm, is everything okay? I've come to bring you the paperwork you asked for." One of your co-workers sounds from the other side of the door.

Homelander takes pleasure in knowing it's the off-putting man he's seen attempt to flirt with you. Yes, let him hear. Let him hear how nobody could ever make you scream this way. Nobody but Homelander.

He gives you a head tilt that says 'see?' and he clamps his hand over your mouth while he rams you even harder. The wooden desk legs squeak horribly against the floor as the desk moves forward with every snap of his hips.

Still, Homelander puts good effort into keeping his voice stable. "Buddy, now's really not the time. Leave it till tomorrow."

"B-b-but." Even though the man is usually oblivious to Homelander's presence anytime he oversees his inappropriate behaviour, at least now he understands there's more at stake.

"Leave." His eyes power up automatically with his tone and while the disaster of a man can't see him, the shift in atmosphere is palpable.

At least from his perspective. Homelander's still fucking your brains out and you're barely aware of the situation. It feels too good to give up on the haze of pleasure lighting up your nerves and force yourself to face the real world where there's embarrassment that comes with nearly getting caught.

He watches the guy scuttle off at his menacing tone.

Finally, Homelander returns his attention back fully to you.

"Look how much attention you're attracting." He lets himself get back in the moment. His voice wavers when you squeeze around him.

"What's that, hah you want more?" He grips onto the desk, letting his pent up energy go into splintering the wood and not the fragile bones of your pelvis.

"Bet they'd all love to see what you're screaming for huh? Maybe I should let them. Let them know I'm the only fucking one to get you singing like this. Fffuck, yeah that's it. Feel so fucking good baby..." With his hand wedged in between your bodies he strokes your clit into completion.

Your screams are muffled by the leather of Homelander's glove and you let yourself scream your heart out as your cunt finally pulses around him with orgasm. The desk finally gives in and breaks when he spills inside you.

He puts all the force he wants to squeeze you with into destroying the office furniture. Because at the end of the day you're the irreplaceable one.

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

While stuff is going down on Sage's Island, what's happening with some of the families of the NRC students?

S.T.Y.X. probably had to be the ones to tell the families the situation. Even though they explain it as lightly as possible so that there's no major panic, that won't stop the families from worrying.

I thought about Deuce's mom after Malleus casted the spell, when Deuce hasn't called her to talk about his day. Her intuition is telling her that something is amiss, but she tries to brush it off even though Deuce has never missed a call.

She sends a good morning text the following day.

She tries calling him an hour later when there's no response. What if he got sick and that's why he hasn't said anything?

But the call immediately goes to voicemail.

Okay, don't panic. She's sure her son must have forgotten to charge his phone (unlikely, a part of her says) or maybe he's deep asleep from being sick.

Dila debates on whether to call the school. She doesn't want to be overprotective or overbearing. . . and yet her mother's intuition is still screaming at her that something isn't right.

It wouldn't hurt to just be sure, right?

Dila's heart sinks when the call to the school immediately goes to voicemail.

The next chance she gets, Dila drives to the Trappola residence. She starts to feel a little ridiculous when Mrs. Trappola answers the door without a single bit of worry. What if it's nothing? But she still asks if Mrs. Trappola has heard from her son.

Mrs. Trappola shakes her head. "No, but he usually talks with his brother a lot. What's up?"

Dila explains how her son hasn't called or texted her and that the call to the school was unsuccessful. "Hmmm... it could be your phone. Let me try calling."

But the same thing happens--the school doesn't pick up. Dila notices something she missed in the beginning: Mrs. Trappola's stiffness beneath a casual mask. Does Mrs. Trappola also feel like something is wrong?

"Hang on, let me try calling his brother."

He's casual when he picks up and tells his mom that Ace hadn't called him last night. But there is a bit of trepidation when he asks, "Is something going on?"

"No, just checking. I'll call you later." Mrs. Trappola lets out a breath and meets Dila's eyes. Both mothers recognize the look in the other's eyes.

"Do you know Clover Bakery?" Dila asks. "Deuce told me that the son of the family who runs it is in the same dorm as him and Ace."

Mrs. Trappola nods. "Ace mentioned him a few times. Trey."

"I'm going to go over there. Want to come with?"

"Give me a second to get my stuff."

Two worried mothers become three, and they're all sitting around a table in the back of the bakery while a father is with the employees at the front. At this point, it's clear that something has happened to their sons and the school.

The three discuss what to do next. Should they try calling the school again? Reach out to the police station? To another family? How about contacting that Diamond kid's family?

But why stop at this part of the world?

Perhaps a while after the sleeping spell is cast, a little heir is wandering the streets pouting because no one is telling him what is going on.

Something has happened to his uncle, that he knows, but he doesn't know just exactly what.

This little heir may bump into an older woman, a grandmother, who asks why he's wandering around on his own so late in the day. He almost cries in frustration while telling her about the adults not telling him anything about his uncle. He lets slip that his uncle goes to Night Raven College.

That makes the grandmother pause, the uneasy feeling inside of her making itself known once again.

She tells the child that his family might be worried about him and eventually persuades him that going home would be a good idea. She escorts him out of the slums, listening to him talk about his uncle, until some guards find the two.

Before the guards escort the little prince back home, the grandmother asks about Night Raven College. Her grandson is a student there and in the same dorm as Leona Kingscholar. The guards reply with an apology and that they have not heard of an incident at the school.

But she stops them. Surely, they must have heard of something. She doesn't miss the fleeting look in one of the guards' eyes--perhaps that woman has a child who goes there too?

That guard tells her partner to go on ahead, and once the prince and his guard are far enough, she tells the grandmother that all communication to the school and Leona--even to anywhere on the island--have been unsuccessful. Other ways of communicating are being sought, but the guard is bracing for the worse.

She tells the grandmother that if she hears anything, she'll come find her.

The parents of four families congregate in Clover Bakery before it opens. It's clear that no one has gotten much sleep. Cups of coffee are handed out as they all take a seat in the bakery's main area.

"Any word?"

"No."

"Actually," Mrs. Trappola says, "my eldest told me that his friend on the Land of Dawning was given an evacuation order alongside every single citizen there."

". . . The entire land?" Mrs. Clover says faintly, disbelieved.

"The entire land." The weight of the words is heavy and they all silently contemplate what the evacuation could mean.

"Doesn't the heir of Briar Valley also go to the school?" Mrs. Diamond asks. "It's possible he might be keeping everyone safe. Plus--" she fixes a bright smile on her face--"our boys have survived two Overblots. What's one more?"

"There's also a magicless student who goes to the school," Mrs. Trappola says. "I heard from Ace that they've gone through multiple Overblots and survived without so much a scratch. If they can stay standing after that kind of disaster, then this should be nothing for them."

". . . I'm sorry, did you say multiple?"

The bell above the door chimes. In steps none other than Mrs. Rosehearts and a man who seems smaller in her presence. It's not missed the way the woman stands stiffly, and in the corner of Dila's eye, she sees Mr. and Mrs. Clover sitting up straighter.

"Is there anything we can help you with?" Mrs. Clover asks. Dila hears a little tremble in her voice as she tries to sound neutral. She meets Mrs. Diamond's eyes across the way and the two share the same thought: there's a strained history between the Rosehearts and Clovers.

That is when Dila remembers a phone call with Deuce early in the school year--Riddle and Trey's past and Riddle's Overblot.

Mrs. Rosehearts takes a deep breath and lets it out in a half-huff. It seems like she's fighting with her pride. "Yes. Have you heard from the school or your sons?"

"No. None of us have."

Mr. Clover gestures to the chairs. "Have a seat."

The man accompanying Mrs. Rosehearts, Mr. Rosehearts, accepts the invitation. However, halfway sitting down, he notices his wife is still standing. "I'm fine. This shouldn't take long," she says.

He blinks, then fully sits. "So, uh, what have we missed?" he asks.

After the two are filled in, Mr. Rosehearts nods sadly while Mrs. Rosehearts's scowl deepens. "So there's nothing." She almost spits out the last word.

"What about you? Have you tried anything?" Mrs. Diamond asks calmly, like the two were acquaintances.

"Of course I have! But nothing worked!" Mrs. Rosehearts shuts her eyes, tightens her grip on her handbag, and tries to calm down from the outburst.

"We both tried calling people we knew on the island, but our calls kept bouncing," Mr. Rosehearts supplies. "I heard about the Land of Dawning evacuation from a friend of mine. They also said that S.T.Y.X. was the one issuing it."

"S.T.Y.X?!" the room explodes.

"They're only involved if there's an Overblot. So does that mean. . . ?" Mr. Clover doesn't dare finish the sentence.

"But what kind of Overblot causes an entire island to be shut down and another island to evacuate?" Dila asks.

"One that can be caused by a powerful mage," Mrs. Trappola softly says.

The room is once again blanketed by horrified and tense silence. Thoughts return to what Mrs. Diamond said earlier. Doesn't the heir of Briar Valley also go to the school?

Mrs. Rosehearts suddenly spins around and marches to the door.

"Where are you going?" her husband asks.

"To the emissary. I will not sit idly and ponder useless things with useless outcomes while my son is in potential danger."

She's halfway through the door when her and everyone's phones go off simultaneously, creating a cacophony of text notification sounds. They're whipped out and Dila holds her breath as she opens the text application.

. . .

Mr. Clover takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. Mr. Diamond runs a hand through his hair. And Mr. Trappola and Mr. Rosehearts can't stop staring at the message on his phone.

It felt good finally having a confirmation that something was amiss and knowing that a major organization was handling it. At the same, however, it left longing for more information.

"What about my son?!" Mrs. Rosehearts's demand to know her son's well-being felt like a reflection of what the other parents were feeling inside. Anger, worry, helplessness.

Mrs. Clover sits back in her chair with a distant, worried gaze. Mrs. Diamond leans on her husband's shoulder. Mrs. Trappola rubs her face. Mrs. Rosehearts slams the door as she leaves the bakery.

After a few attempts, Dila finally opens the internet application. It brings her to a news article from a while ago, written by a Sage's Island reporter, and at the very top is a picture of her son performing in the Star Sending Ceremony. She can't stop staring at it. What if she never sees him again?

"Deuce. . ."

Meanwhile, in Sunset Savannah, a little prince runs down a street. His head turns wildly, searching for a certain face. Anyone outside pause to stare at him, no doubt curious as to why the heir is here in this neighborhood of all places. He finally spots her leaving a run-down home and sprints the rest of the way.

The grandmother hears him before she sees him. He slows to a stop before her and is panting as he says, "I know what's happening! The island is shut down and some sticks are fixing it!"

"'Some sticks'?" she repeats, puzzled.

He nods feverishly. "Yeah! That's what I heard."

She assumes it's magic-related. "What about the island? Did you hear why it is shut down?"

He goes to answer, but pauses. "Um... I didn't," he says bashfully.

She's disappointed, but doesn't let that show. "That's all right. Thank you for telling me about what you heard."

"Prince Cheka!" Marching down the street is the guard from yesterday. The little prince's ears press down. "Please, notify any of us when you plan to leave the palace," she says, though it sounds more like scolding.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to let grandmother know about the school."

The guard sighs. "Your parents have already been told and they expect you back soon. I will stand guard beside the house. Let me know when you are ready to return."

"Can you tell grandmother what you know?" Cheka asks. "I saw you talking to her yesterday."

The guard, beneath the stoic exterior, had been impatient to tell the grandmother. "Very well."

She relays the message she, a couple of the other guards, and the queen received. An incident on Sage's Island. . . All travel to Sage's Island and the Land of Dawn are prohibited. . . S.T.Y.X. is currently handling the situation and will notify when the situation has been resolved.

"I am sorry I can't give you more information," the guard says.

Grandma Bucchi shakes her head. "You've given me enough."

She makes her way to a cracked chair and tries not to fall back on it as she sits. "Are you okay?" Cheka asks, approaching as the guard readies herself to help.

"I'm all right," she half lies. She prays to the stars of the coming night that nothing is happening to Ruggie. She already lost her daughter-in-law and son; she cannot lose her grandson.

"He'll figure out a way to survive. He's resourceful," she says, partly as a reminder to herself.

"My uncle might be helping him. They might be helping each other, like the King of Beasts and the hyenas!" Cheka says, brightening.

Grandma Bucchi knows the story well--everyone in Sunset Savannah does. It came to mind when Ruggie told her about his working relationship with Leona, and the thought wasn't lost on Ruggie either.

Perhaps they are helping each other through the danger that has taken hold of the island. "It is possible. My grandson is in the same dorm as your uncle."

A/N: I have been dying to share this with ya'll for a couple of weeks. I also kind of oneshot this XD

[ceilidho]

wait but also, this being your first "proper adult job" so you're even less sure whether this is a normal thing to be upset about, or if you're just overreacting.

like, soap gets your phone number and address from the employee database thanks to one of his bros in HR, and shows up at your place one morning, saying something about, "starting a carpool program" even though it's only ever you two in the car???

or one day you're helping a customer and maybe standing a lil too close, so soap comes up behind you, grabs your loose hair and yanks just a bit too hard--your head tilts back until you're making uncomfortable eye contact with him. "Just putting your hair up for ye, luvie," he winks, while the customer suddenly feels like they're intruding on a weirdly intimate moment.

then for the holiday season, your team does a white elephant gift exchange and when it's your turn, you're unwrapping some very expensive perfume bottles--there's no way this didn't go over the $15 suggested limit. soap's sliding up next to you, saying something about he's dreamt of this fragrance on you and oh he sprays his bedsheets with this one so he can jerk off imagining you.

im shaking like a wet dog this is doing unspeakable things to me.

you don't even know this but he paid someone off to get your name in the secret santa gift exchange. like actually paid them fifty dollars just to have the opportunity to get you a gift. and you know the second you unwrap it that it must've been in the three figures. you just got someone a fancy mug. and he stares at you when you unwrap it, beaming when you give him a very controlled "thank you" because the alternative is screaming that this is way too expensive for you to keep.

"ye should put it on," he tells you, breathing just a little heavier. "really want ta smell it on ye."

he heaves you up by the hips whenever you have a hard time reaching something on a shelf instead of just reaching up and grabbing it for you. really digs his fingers into your sides. doesn't let you go right away when he puts you down. and if you make a comment about it being uncomfortable or it hurting you (you're an adult, you're not used to someone just lifting you up), he just coos at you instead, pouts and simpers like he's so sorry that you're not used to it yet.

maybe when you're assigned to the jewellery section, Johnny pops out of nowhere when you're helping a customer that's looking at some rings and he uses your hand to model some of the rings. and it gets. weirdly intense when he slides the ring onto your finger, like he's holding his breath. he even shudders a bit, presses himself right up against you behind the display counter until the customer leaves because it's genuinely off-putting lmao.

and if he comes in as a customer, jesus christ. be prepared for him to pester you the entire time, insisting on you helping him with his purchases. he'll brush off any other employees looking for you under the guise of you helping him shop, but then once they're gone, he'll go back to interrogating you about your childhood and your friends and whether you have a partner or any previous partners you might've had. makes you follow him to the bed section where he tries out all the mattresses and then asks you increasingly inappropriate questions like what mattress you have, what it feels like, how you sleep at night, what you wear to bed :\\\

[citruslullabies]

Hola! I have not bad idea for u…

What if DogDay caught Y/N self-harming.? Something in the spirit of blood, but with a fluff at the end. It would be very interesting to read…

Thanks..✍️

I can do that!

Trigger warnings: ‼️HEAVY TRIGGER WARNINGS‼️BLOOD, SELF HARM, THOUGHTS OF SUICIDE AND DETAILED SKIN TRAUMA‼️ STOP READING NOW IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE BY THIS BY ANY MEANS! I AM NOT LIABLE IF YOU CONTINUE, KNOWING THESE ARE TRIGGERS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Romantic/platonic: unspecified

Requested by: anonymous

Category: HEAVY. ANGST. READ WARNINGS.

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x reader

Word count: 677

Leave My Skin to Rest

After the situation at Playco with fighting for your life and saving others, your mental health seemed to rapidly decline.

You knew you were safe and sound, but you knew many weren't as fortunate as you. And that hurt worse than you thought it would. The employees and children, the critters, the teachers. Every single one of them hadn't made it out alive, yet you did by some lucky shot at luck with a day you missed. The guilt weighed on you like nothing else had.

It was wrong to think this way, and you knew that. You hated yourself for making it out alive when many others didn't and a part of you wishes that you hadn't missed that dreadful day.

So the punishment for your survival and beating heart was on your skin, whether that be showers that are hotter than you can handle or squeezing your skin until it hurts, maybe even cutting or pulling hair out. Right now you were pinching your skin between your long fingernails that needed to be cut, as you started to lack self care and didn't find the means to cut them if you didn't chew on them. You were sitting on your bed with your trembling hand digging at the sensitive skin on your arms, pinching and picking while blood profusely tried to escape your body and trickle down.

Tears escaped your eyes, sniffling as you looked down at your poor skin. So red from irritation and blood, your fingers that kept doing the actions repeatedly were the same. You stared at the skin that looked as if it was rotting with birds pecking at it with a feeling of regret, like a sensation of feeling as if you deserved this for simply living while many had not.

You had saved a few, sure. But what's a few compared to thousands? It simply couldn't compare. You had spiraled down a hole like Alice and you couldn't get yourself out no matter the methods of trying to forget in a healthy way of trying to cope, you always came back to step one. And that was punishing your body for still existing instead of rotting.

Your breath hitched as you heard the click of your door, quickly trying to hide your arm as you saw a large canine walk in with a plate of dinner since you had missed their calls for you to come out, it looked like omelets. With some egg shells in it but omelets. You slowly looked up at Dogday, gulping and forcing a smile as well as you could. “H-hey.. can you just set the plate down? I'll eat it in a minute.” You spoke softly.

Your large companion nodded, smiling as he walked over despite your wishing for him to set it down on the desk beside your door. His tail was wagging, so he clearly made it and was excited for you to try it… but it seemed to slow down and stiffen up when he smelled something that was sadly familiar to his nose. “... Angel?” He asked softly.

He continued to sniff the air, watching you become nervous and awkward before he found the source. His eyes widened and he immediately panicked, taking your arm into his delicate paws to gaze upon it and think of a solution for your aching. “(Your name)!? What- what happened to you? Did you do this? Why?” He asked, his mind buzzing with questions as he hesitantly touched your wounds with a desire to heal them. He knew your skin was littered in scars, but he never knew any of them were your own personal doing. But those questions were what broke you; your normal upbeat persona had fallen and you were silent, before sniffling and breaking down. His soft fur caught your tears as you explained everything. He rubbed your back and shushed you, carefully taking you to the restroom and bandaging you up as he continued to let you cry against him.

He wanted you to know that everything would be alright.

Thank you for requesting!

If you ever feel this way please call a national suicidal helpline, which is the number 9-8-8 I believe. You are not alone. And you are loved.

[anikaluv]

ANGELITA —

❤︎︎ pairing: Miles (e!1610) × fem!reader

❤︎︎ genre: fluff

❤︎︎ cw: adopting a puppy 🩷

❤︎︎ summary: Reader and Miles (e!1610) adopting a puppy headcannons

❤︎︎ w/c: 500

❤︎︎ a/n: Decided to make 2 parts cause the first part had me thinking lmao

PART ONE

❤︎ E!1610 MILES always notices the radiant grin on your face whenever you come across people with dogs, and he loves how you can't resist petting them

❤︎ E!1610 MILES who notes that most posts you like on insta have cute lil’ pups in ‘em

❤︎ E!1610 MILES agreeing to take to you the pet shelter the day you ask even though he had a date prepped to surprise you there in 2 weeks

❤︎ E!1610 MILES walked into the pet shelter and immediately knew it’ll be a hard decision because every puppy was downright cute to the both of you

❤︎ E!1610 MILES accompanies you as you check out each puppy one by one, but he hasn't found a connection with any of them yet

❤︎ E!1610 MILES heart starting to race when the employee walks in with the last puppy coated in fluffy soft fur saying, “This is our last one, she’s a bit smaller than the others.”

❤︎ E!1610 MILES trying to get the puppy to come to him, saying “C’mere, angelita!” , and when the puppy turned her neck and ran towards Miles pouncing on him and liking his face, the name had stuck

❤︎ E!1610 MILES stays up all night with Angelita, helping her adjust to your apartment and ensuring she feels safe and loved

❤︎ E!1610 MILES immediately getting the apartment puppy proofed because he’ll be damned to let anything hurt his baby

❤︎ E!1610 MILES trying to teach Angelita tricks and when she finally gets one down he jumps for joy like an excited little girl

❤︎ E!1610 MILES heart breaking when he has to hold Angelita down at the vet and she’s sobbing

❤︎ E!1610 MILES denying that he was tearing up when you two were saying goodbye to Angelita on her first day of doggy school

❤︎ E!1610 MILES struggles to focus on work when Angelita constantly demands tummy rubs, and he happily obliges

❤︎ E!1610 MILES who updates 30 pictures a day of Angelita to his private album called “daddy’s little angel”

❤︎ E!1610 MILES can't resist picking up Angelita every time she whines, easily falling for her charm

❤︎ E!1610 MILES trying to not to be jealous when he introduces Angelita to Ganke and she warms up to him INSTANTLY (a little too quickly according to Miles)

❤︎ E!1610 MILES who pouts when you have to lecture him about giving Angelita too many treats (he can’t help it)

❤︎ E!1610 MILES pets Angelita while she whines, feeling guilty about chewing through his new Jordans during her teething phase

❤︎ E!1610 MILES who is not scared to go next door and shout at the neighbors to turn their TV down because Angelita is scared of loud noises

❤︎ E!1610 MILES always spoils Angelita with the newest collars, leashes, toys, and anything she might enjoy

❤︎ E!1610 MILES apologizing profusely when you tease him about whether he loves you or Angelita more, knowing that he loves you both dearly

❤︎ E!1610 MILES sadly watches as Angelita struggles to make friends with other puppies at the dog park, reminding him of his own early days at Visions Academy

❤︎ E!1610 MILES hissing when he tried slipping into his spider suit one day and Angelita shat in it

❤︎ E!1610 MILES heart warming while sitting on the couch watching tv with you two; realizing he has the two cutest things in the world right next to him

ENDING A/N: This is my first Miles (e!1610) fic, so I might not have his personality right all the way yet lol

TAGLIST:@janaeby @bellstwd @nmgstuff @axeoverblade @zaddyskye69 @agstuffsworld @spidrstar @laylasbunbunny @missusmorale @popeheywardssecretgf @lumineliax @fukingsad @wisteriaflowersss @crxss01 @joliety

TAGS:

[yurislotusgarden]

Relationship hc's

ʚїɞ Dazai Osamu x Gn!Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ This is just part 1 as I'm gonna write hc's like this for more characters

ʚїɞ word count: 1581

ʚїɞ why are hc's the longest thing I have written yet?

ʚїɞ Tw's: None! Just pure fluff, pet names are used, reader's gender is not specified in any way

ཐིཋྀ Our local clingy cockroach mf

ཐིཋྀ He always tries to be touching you

ཐིཋྀ Holding hands or pinkies, side hugs, back hugs (he won't miss a chance of burying his face into your hair, shoulder, or neck) <3

ཐིཋྀ Speaking of neck kisses. He loves them (both giving and receiving), especially if you jump at the feeling or are ticklish there

ཐིཋྀ Protective. Not to the point of it being overprotective but it’s very easy to see this man would die for you if he had to he very much has to stop himself from going back to his old ways when someone even tries to hurt you. Even worse if it’s done directly in front of him

ཐིཋྀ He’s possessive but not to a point where it’s overbearing or controlling. He just doesn’t wanna lose you

ཐིཋྀ If you work at the agency there's no peace for you :)

ཐིཋྀ He tries to get your attention by doing absolutely ANYTHING

ཐིཋྀ Man doesn't let you do paperwork. Stealing pens or the papers themselves, moving your chair randomly, and forget about ignoring his antics unless you wanna deal with his whining

ཐིཋྀ "I'm dying 'donna!" "I'm gonna die if I don't get it" <--- Dazai whining loudly while either lying down on the couch, floor, or on his desk

ཐིཋྀ "I'm working Osamu" <--- You, who’s been listening to that for the past 20 minutes

ཐིཋྀ You would be able to ignore him longer if the brunette didn't straight up pick you up from your seat and move you over to his desk to put you on his lap

ཐིཋྀ The whining stopping and him actually doing something can go from not waiting and picking you up, which would be like 2 minutes to like 20 minutes, to literally dragging you out of the agency.

ཐིཋྀ Good luck getting up from his lap or when cuddling because this man has a grip of steel

ཐིཋྀ If you don’t work at the agency and are a civilian, the agency would find out about you 2 being together… at some point

ཐིཋྀ You guys would wait a few months to see if the relationship has a chance of lasting and once yall are sure the other ain’t going anywhere not directed at Dazai I swear, Dazai would come up with some way to reveal it in a way that leaves the ada confused as hell and you 2 laughing

ཐིཋྀ It would be probably one out of these 3:

ཐིཋྀ The first option, randomly seeing you out in the city while he’s walking with someone and coming up to flirt with you in Dazai style TM

ཐིཋྀ He probably would do it while he’s out with Kunikida and Atsushi ;-;

ཐིཋྀ I swear Kunikida would get an aneurysm and Atsushi would change into a statue the moment they process your words

ཐིཋྀ Like the moment you say that you’re dating Dazai and aren’t some unfortunate soul who the brunette decided to flirt with, Kunikida is down on the sidewalk and Atsushi looks like someone told him he’s an alien so well the poor boy believed them

ཐིཋྀ The ada asked you if Dazai pays you or if you’re held hostage by Dazai because they can’t believe someone is willingly dating the bandage-wasting machine

ཐིཋྀ “Blink twice fast right now if you’re in danger” ←- definitely not Yosano

ཐིཋྀ “Hey!” ←- and totally not playfully offended Dazai

ཐིཋྀ The second option, updating personal/employee files (2 possibilities here)

ཐིཋྀ It really depends on how long was the relationship hidden, and whether yall are just dating or got goddamn married by the time either of those 2 possibilities (I am not putting getting married in secret past this guy)

ཐིཋྀ One possibility would be the emergency number

ཐིཋྀ Dazai getting hurt happens, and every time the injury is on the more serious side, Kunikida has to look if there’s an emergency contact in the files knowing Dazai has barely anything written on the paper, so imagine his shock upon seeing a number being actually written down

ཐིཋྀ When did Dazai do it? Poor Kunikida has no idea but it’s there now so he’s calling (he perfectly knows it can be another prank and the number may lead to a pizza place or something)

ཐིཋྀ So you got called (Kunikida had to take a minute to realize Dazai’s got an actual emergency number now) and then came to the agency in a hurry, per Kunikida’s request

ཐིཋྀ They probably wouldn’t ask who you are to Dazai at first, after seeing you worried. But after that when Yosano told you his condition and you calmed down? Bombarded with questions. Dazai aint getting out of them either after waking up

ཐིཋྀ And the third option, Kunikida going through employee files and seeing Dazai has ‘married’ on the marital status-

ཐིཋྀ So here would be the typical “There’s no way *you* are married”. Dazai would, of course, act offended because “What do you mean no one would want to marry me Kunikida-kun?!” and would either show his ring and call you to come to the agency or only show his ring to others and leave them in mystery for some time

ཐིཋྀ Jesus, I went off track, this was meant to be relationship hcs (may write one of the 3 ideas tho)

ཐིཋྀ Anyway

ཐིཋྀ He’s so soft and careful with you because he thinks he will scare you away (he won’t) :(

ཐིཋྀ He WILL take you to Oda’s grave at one point, as well as tell you about his past, even if not everything, you still know more than most people

ཐིཋྀ If Dazai’s not at the agency when he’s supposed to and you want to find him? The best option is to look wherever his little ‘bella is! He’s most likely with you (read: clinging onto you like a koala)

ཐིཋྀ Wearing anything of his is an invitation to touch you in his eyes

ཐིཋྀ Whether he steals your clothes depends simply on whether they fit him (even if tight) or not

ཐིཋྀ PLEASE wear his clothes, and do domestic shit with him. He’s falling in love all over again every time. He literally melts inside

ཐིཋྀ I don’t think it depends on when you met dazai, you know Chuuya in some damn way. If you met while he was in the mafia then knowing Chuuya is obvious if talking about how, but after Dazai left the PM, it depends on whether you work at the agency or not

ཐིཋྀ If you’re a civilian, it was most likely a chance meeting, like while you and Dazai were out on a date, or randomly out of the apartment/house for like shopping or something

ཐིཋྀ If you work at the agency, really possible it was because of a mission

ཐིཋྀ Changing the topic, I wouldn’t let this guy into the kitchen let me tell you. Unless you want something to be on fire (he once burned water and it was the most confusing thing you have ever seen. You both still just don’t know how he managed to achieve that but you never again let him cook when you’re not in the kitchen for even a minute)

ཐིཋྀ Use his shampoo and/or body wash and then proceed to wear anything of his, I dare you. You will have a Dazai-looking puddle on the floor the minute he realizes what you did

ཐིཋྀ I was about to write jealousy hcs but with how many ideas I have on that topic, I will just write another post for that

ཐིཋྀ Remember his look from Dead Apple? He saved that suit and that’s how he looks on some of the dates -the ones paid for with Kunikida’s money-

ཐིཋྀ On the other hand, most dates etc. are really casual and cute. A picnic in a more isolated place, sitting there until the stars come out, mini dates to cafes, library, arcade, or even just a peaceful walk around, during the day and at night under the night sky

ཐིཋྀ Yes, he buys you flowers, there’s no schedule whatsoever, so you can never fully predict when he is going to have a bouquet in his hands or not when visiting

ཐིཋྀ If you’re a foreigner, he’s so learning your mother tongue to some degree (depends how hard it is but probably will end up quite fluent in it after some time)

ཐིཋྀ He can shit-talk people even more with that, and he wants to flirt with you in your own language at one point

ཐིཋྀ“You’re so pretty ‘samu”

“‘bella, Japanese or another language I can understand please”

“But I like this more than a normal conversation tho”

“...I’m pretty sure you just disagreed”

“Maybe I did, pretty boy”

“I’m confused. You are either cussing me out or complimenting me.”

“And you shall stay in mystery forever.”

“‘donna!”

ཐིཋྀ ^ One of the convos yall had before he started learning (if it’s a language he doesn’t already know)

ཐིཋྀ You wanted to confuse him to have tease material for later

ཐིཋྀ You succeeded

ཐིཋྀ I hc that he and Chuuya learned different languages from Kouyou for work so get ready to be flirted with in a language you don’t understand most likely

ཐིཋྀ Kisses are either really damn soft that make you melt or are greedy ones that make you want more. No in-between with this mf

He very much uses the needy kisses to tease and/or frustrate you

ཐིཋྀ He loves you I swear, you will never notice just how much he does. When he says you are his reason as to why he’s still alive he very much means that :(

ཐིཋྀ Speaking of, the suicide attempts get rarer with the passing days. They happen, but not as much anymore <3

Notes, comments, reblogs are greatly appreciated &lt;3

[cringefailvox]

staticbelle au, because this bsky art gave me brainworms. seven years pre-canon, charlie's mom and the radio demon have both disappeared, though it's too early to tell whether either of them is truly gone yet, vaggie hasn't fallen yet, and charlie is completely on her own. she's estranged from her dad, she has barely an inkling of a plan for how to save sinners, and her overwhelming compassion has nowhere to go—she wants to help people, but she doesn't know how. then she notices there's a new overlord syndicate on the rise, surging to fill the spaces the radio demon has left behind, and every window advertisement or tv commercial she sees insists that the vees want nothing more than to lend a helping hand to the downtrodden, if you would only trust them.

she's not stupid. she knows not to immediately take other demons at their word, especially not overlords, but the vees are swiftly building something she hasn't been able to accrue in two centuries: influence. sinners are listening when they talk, people are tuning into their shows and flocking to the entertainment district because it's safer than many other places in the pentagram, and charlie thinks this might be exactly what she needs. if she can convince the vees to platform her, if they're half as generous as they seem, she might have a real shot at changing people's afterlives for the better. and if they don't want to help her, then... she'll just have to be really, really convincing! no biggee!

enter vox, who cannot believe his luck. the kittens and rainbows, dumb blonde princess of hell waltzes right through his front door and offers him the opportunity of a lifetime to get into good graces with the royal family. he's greedy with alastor's absence and overeager to get his foot in the door on an even playing field with the other overlords, since bringing velvette onboard has catapulted the three of them into the mainstream and he's not about to lose his momentum now. he'll entertain her delusions, maybe give her her own talkshow segment late at night when no one who matters will be watching, forge a link between the morningstar name and the new identity he's staking out for himself in the wake of alastor's disappearance. after all, the worst that can happen is she embarrasses herself under his name and he has to swoop in and oh-so-benevolently rescue her, and it's not like val doesn't already do that every other week. plus, ratings are ratings.

so he keeps his word. he gives her a platform, albeit a limited one; he enthusiastically encourages her ideas for rehabilitating hell and privately thinks it's hysterically idiotic; he lets her deliver her pitches in musical form live on air and isn't charmed, not even a little bit. he expects that eventually she'll get discouraged and give up, and when that happens, he's going to step in with a warm smile and gently suggest that they try something a little different, a little more vox's speed, and if he can get her hand shaking his in the process then that's only a magnificent bonus.

except. charlie refuses to quit. she's not an employee, so she comes and goes as she pleases from the tower and suddenly vox's days are being interrupted by a sheepishly excitable princess who has a new script for him to look over or a tune she wants a second opinion on and of course vox is accommodating every time, of course he's supportive, even when he's so fucking irritated he plasters on an indulgent grin and invites her in, because he's made an art form out of swallowing his real feelings for the sake of appeasing the public or valentino or alastor and this is not a relationship he can afford to jeopardize with something as trivial as hurting her feelings.

so he indulges her. he picks up one of her glitter pens and reaches over to scribble something on her illustration of all the overlords holding hands and it's all downhill from there. before he can think to pump the brakes, he's being looped into genuinely investigating what qualifies as sin and redemption for damned souls, he's having his architects draft plans for an extravagant rehabilitation hotel that makes her cry when he idly mentions it, he's sighing and enduring the way all his vulgar mugs have mysteriously been rewritten with positive messages instead (fuck hug alastor!), he's letting her lean over the rim of his pools and gasp with sheer delight over his sharks because that doesn't give him the warm and fuzzies, not at all—and he's even somewhat patiently heeding her constructive criticism about all the mind control and abusive work environments and predatory business practices that the vees engage in. like, obviously they're not going to stop, but he does talk to val and vel about toning it down a bit, at least while charlie is around. gotta keep little miss sunshine happy, right? (no one tell him that he really doesn't need to be doing all this, he won't listen.)

meanwhile, charlie has gone full starry-eyed dreamer with vox's backing. for the first time, someone is genuinely supporting her, even if that person is an evil capitalist who sometimes feeds his employees to his sharks and is definitely hypnotizing people with his ads but, uhh. everyone has flaws!! and doesn't it kind of balance out, if he's helping her figure out how to redeem people, ensuring her ideas have real power and structure behind them, and even limiting some of the fucked up shit his partners do for her sake? maybe he's not doing it for the right reasons, but he IS doing good, and shouldn't that matter? charlie absolutely thinks it does. she didn't really intend for vox to be her first case study for proving that every sinner has the capacity to be better when given the opportunity, but like hell is she NOT going to milk this for all it's worth for as long as it takes for vox to realize that he's committed to the bit too hard and actually. Likes her. and wants her to succeed. and feels his mood lift when she's in the room. and may or may not be addicted to making her happy. g-d fucking dammit

all this to say that one day, when he presents her with the operational plans for the grand opening of the happy hotel, and she exclaims "oh my gosh, thank you thank you thank you" and leans up on her toes to kiss the corner of his screen before tackling him into a hug, and his screen explodes with pink pixelated hearts—well, he's well and truly fucked himself. whoops! the princess of hell is your girlfriend now. yeah, you've lost the plot. mazel tov

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part two

art by the lovely @stainedlilac

author’s note: part two is here! been stewing on this for about a month now. 18+! mdni! i just think that infernal terzo is so pathetic and delicious, i want to eat him up. part one is here. ao3 link. about 5.4k words :) let me know what you think! this really feels like it is something special to me.

~~~~

You didn’t sleep well the night before. Maybe the satanic imagery you had been sifting through or Mr. Golden Bachelor’s general creepiness had gotten to you. Or maybe it was the constant flow of ideas and plans that flooded your brain on how to fix up his dismal mansion. It had so much potential. Whatever the true reason was, you spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable or relaxed enough to get deep sleep. Then again, at least it was different from your nightly twelve hour depression sleep. You aren’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

The drive back to his house goes rather quick and even though you have only driven there once, you feel as though you are on autopilot until you reach the end of his driveway. You can’t help but feel anxious. This is your first full day as his employee and you don’t even know what to expect. There is still the uncertainty creeping up into your thoughts that this might not work out anyway. If anything, it makes you feel just a tiny bit less nervous. Just a tiny bit. You grab your back from the front seat and sling it over your shoulder, taking a moment to stare at the quiet, foreboding home in front of you.

The door is unlocked. You take a short moment to decide whether or not you should knock but since you are an employee, you decide to walk right in. The house seems more quiet than the day before and for a moment you wonder if Terzo is even awake. Then you hear soft sounds coming from next to the sitting room. You make sure to stay silent as you walk toward the sounds, keeping your bag slung close to you so it doesn’t make any noise. 

“I miss you… you know that, right?” There is a hint of sadness in his soft voice. 

You quickly determine that whatever conversation he is having is private and you definitely do not want to listen to more of it, especially since you don’t know him that well. You try not to make a sound as you take a few steps backward, then you turn fully around scurry on to the dining room.

Terzo doesn’t remember Hell. He gets flashes of images and gut feelings of pain every so often but other than that it is a big black hole in his memory. When he first arrived at this house, though, he noticed a peculiar rotary phone in what is now his office. He assumed it came with the house… until it started ringing. After initially ignoring the calls, he eventually picked up only to hear shrieks and growls, sounds that brought back the hazy memories of hell to the forefront of his mind. He began to grow bored of the calls but the voices started to grow clearer over time. 

One of the voices ended up being Omega’s.

Omega had been banished to Hell by the Clergy for being a distraction. Little did they know, the ghoul had been the one who held Terzo back from complete insubordination. Once he was gone, Terzo went off the deep end, becoming more and more disobedient to the higher ups in the clergy, ultimately ending with him being dragged off stage and removed from power. 

He was unsure if they came into contact while he was briefly deceased. Omega wouldn’t give him a straight answer on the subject no matter how much he pressed. He also would not explain to him what the hellphone is for. Even with Omega not really giving him any answers, he was always glad to hear from him, even if sometimes it hurts.

“It’s not the same without you here. It hasn’t been.” Terzo leans back in his chair and props his feet up on his desk, toying with the phone cord. 

“I know.” Omega’s true voice is much different than his earthly one. It’s low and barely perceivable by the human ear and yet it stings.

“I have hired someone, though — an assistant. I think maybe they will help spruce this place up.” Terzo pauses for a moment, then gives a soft sigh. “And maybe be fun to play with.” 

“You must be lonely, bello.” Omega rumbles and Terzo can’t help but offer a quiet groan. It has been a while since he’s heard any kind of compliment, let alone one from Omega, his former flame.

Terzo hums in response then lets comfortable silence fall over the conversation. He always hoped when he would pick up the phone it would be Omega but every time it was… well, difficult to find topics of conversation. They are both stuck in their own personal purgatory. Which only leads to one place in Terzo’s mind…

“So…ehhh, what are you wearing?” He purrs into the receiver and is met with more silence followed by a “click”, disconnecting the call. Terzo slams the phone down on the receiver with a growl. The nerve of Omega to hang up.

He leans back in his chair, the sound of the leather squeaking beneath him until his eyes fall upon a lone joint right next to his computer. He smiles widely at it as he snatches it up, lights it with the tip of his finger and brings it to his lips. The smoke fills his lungs as he inhales deeply and holds it there in his chest. Terzo has always been an advocate for the Devil’s lettuce but he definitely uses it more now that he has been forcibly retired — mainly because there isn’t much else for him to do. 

The familiar haze begins to fall over him, a nice feeling of relaxation and sleepiness causing him to rest his head against his desk for just a moment…

The next thing he knows, he’s waking up with his cheek smushed against the top of his desk. Terzo groans quietly, rubbing his head before he realizes it is now the afternoon and he hasn’t seen you yet today. He lazily climbs to his feet and shrugs off his robe, leaving him in his sweats. He figures it’s high time the boss made an appearance but hesitates for a moment as he eyes the half-smoked joint.

You’ve spent the morning organizing and packing up the many odd books in his collection. There is one that has caught your attention, though. When moving some things around it dropped and opened, your eyes immediately snapping to it as if it was calling out to you. Your hand hovers over the page, eyes focused on the image on it. A man with his face painted and similar robes to the ones you’ve seen on the photos you’ve gone through stares back at you. He looks angry. You let your fingers brush over the text beneath the portrait. 

Papa Emeritus the Second took the Ghost Project soaring to new heights. Despite this, he was still removed due to failing to overthrow governments and churches. His younger brother (by three months) took over after him. 

You lift the book and walk back to the table, waiting to sit down before  turning the next page. His eyes stare back at you, familiar mischief shining behind them. 

“Naughty girl.” Terzo purrs from the doorframe, a sleepy smirk stretching across his face. His cheeks are flushed and the whites of his eyes are bloodshot. His smell is distinct and your brain crashes once you realize that he is stoned. You take in his messy hair and half-lidded eyes before your eyes drift to scar on his neck. It’s jagged, the scarred skin raised in a pronounced way and it is a lighter color than his olive skin. You don’t want to stare but an overwhelming feeling of despair creeps up your spine. There is something wrong with the scar. It looks deep and like whatever kind of wound it came from was incredibly painful. You almost ask what happened but then your gaze drops–

His gray sweatpants barely hang onto his hips and it’s obvious he has gone without underwear today. You would feel like this is incredibly inappropriate if he wasn’t looking at you with such a seductive grin and all thought of his scar has now vacated your mind. Terzo lazily strolls up to the table and snags the book out from in front of you. He claps it shut and tosses it to the other side of the room.

“You are not here to be nosy, puffetta.” He purrs as he leans against the side of the table, his eye  fixated on you. “You are here to organize and ehhh, be tidy.” Terzo giggles then takes a seat on top of the table in front of you. 

“I wasn’t being nosy, I was being curious.” You quip but immediately feel some anxiety — you still don’t know Terzo that well and talking back to your boss isn’t something you wanted to do on your second day. The anxiety fades as he dramatically rolls his eyes and scoffs but he can’t hide his smile. “Besides, a lot of these books have a distinct look to them… kind of hard not to be curious.” You push one of the leather bound books in his direction. Terzo scoops it up and then leans back on the table until he is laying down, his hairy chest just in front of you. He opens the book to look at the title page.

“Satan and YOU: A guide to converting to a blah blah blah…” He snores and drops the open book on his face, pretending to be asleep. You blink at him but find yourself grinning; this man is a goof. Terzo peeks at you from over the top of the book, his mismatched eyes looking right through you.

“Okay, okay. They at least look cool. You could always display them, you know.” 

“Display?” He slips the book off of his face, placing it on the table next to him and brings his hands up to rest underneath his head.

“Yeah, do you have any bookcases or shelves or—“

“I’ll think about it, mio toppolino.” Terzo muses then slowly sits up and gazes down at you. “Let us see what snacks I have.” He swings his legs over the edge of the table and hops down to his feet, a hand resting on your shoulder and then tugging lightly at your shirt to follow him. You get up and follow close behind him, your eyes fixed on his strong back and shoulders, admiring the proportions of them to his waist. 

Still, your gaze starts to drift back to the scar. How is a scar like that even possible? It’s evenly spread along his neck, fully connected even though it is jagged. What could have caused it? The more you look at it, the more you think maybe it’s some kind of edgy tattoo. He was the lead singer of a dramatic rock band, after all. All of your thoughts fade when he turns his head, looking back at you to make sure you are there and gives you a smoldering glance. 

Where was this charm yesterday? Maybe it’s related to the weed.

“Do you smoke, puffetta?” He purrs as he starts to open cabinets above the counter, one after another with most of them being empty. You settle yourself against one of the counters.

“Sometimes.”

“Want some now?” 

You raise your eyebrows slowly at him. You are on the clock and he is offering you marijuana. Sure, this has happened to you in a corporate setting but it was more like “here, have some edibles to take when you get home”, not while on the clock.  

“I’m okay, thanks.” 

Terzo gives a small shrug then continues to go through his cabinets before finding a lone box of cheerios. He stuffs his hand into the box and starts to munch on them while he stares off in your direction. It’s awkward but you are grateful to spend some time “getting to know him” even if he is high out of his mind. Your initial assessment of him still stands though — he is a mess.

“Do you need groceries? I can put in an order to be delivered.” You pull out your phone.

“Oh, si!” He hops off the counter and hurries over to you, box of cheerios in hand. “Could you get me some doritos?” Terzo is right next to you now, his chest nearly pressing against your shoulder as he peers at your phone screen. You open the app and hand it to him.

“Pick what you want but… I mean, I guess you should pick some actual food and healthy stuff, not just snacks.” 

Oh, how cute. Terzo’s eyes widen, his cheeks turning red and he has the overwhelming urge to grab you and pull you in close to him, to tell you that you’re his now, that he’s never letting you go. He knows he can’t, it would be too much too soon but he wants you so badly. And how adorable is it that you are concerned with him eating healthy? It’s only the second day and he can’t get enough of you. 

“I will be sure to get some… strawberries.” Terzo says with a giggle and starts to scroll through the local grocery store’s offerings. He focuses on the screen in front of him and the pictures of potential snacks while you wander away from the counter. The kitchen is a dark teal with light marble counters but barely anything on them. There is a small bar area with stools that look like they would fall apart if you sat on them. You figure he doesn’t do much cooking or entertaining guests. A large bay window captures your attention, showing the sad state of the backyard.

The yard is covered in brush and fallen branches, the grass overgrown and dead. Brick walls line the yard with a short iron fence along the top of. Both could use some attention.

“You have a pretty big yard.”

“Mmm?” Terzo looks up at you with wide eyes, the corner of his credit card in his mouth. He quickly finishes typing in his credit card information into the phone, keeping his eyes on the screen. “Whaff?”

“Your yard, it’s nice. Have you thought about getting a landscaper to fix it up?” You lean against the side of the window. Terzo’s gaze flits up to you and he messes with the phone in his hand.

“I believe this is why I hired you, eh?” He saunters towards you, wiggling your phone in his hands. “To help make this place live-able.” Terzo stops just in front of you and hands you your phone, his fingers lingering on yours.

“But don’t you have any ideas for what you want? Like a garden or something?”

Terzo visibly recoils, his brows knotting and his lips pressing into a thin line. “A garden.” He whispers then gazes out of the window for a moment. “My older brother was more of the gardening type. I ehhh… don’t have much of a green thumb.” He holds up his thumb and smiles weakly. How badly he wants to take his thumb and press it inside your mouth while he forces you to your knees in front of him and —

“Well, we can always start small with some tomatoes or something.” You give him a kind smile and he all but melts. He hums in agreement and steps in closer, hovering just beside you, your hands nearly touching as he gazes out into his overgrown yard. Never has the thought even crossed his mind to go outside let alone having a garden. But having a garden with someone? Terzo brushes his arm against yours, trying to be slick about it but failing. He hadn’t realized how touch starved he is until he feels your warm skin against his. 

“I should get back to it. Uhh… your food should be in, like, twenty minutes, Mr. Emeritus..” You say after checking your phone, eyes flitting up to his as you take a step back. He is squinting at you, the corner of his lip twitching. “Mr. Papa?” You try again and he audibly groans.

“No, no. Call me Terzo, per favore.” 

“Okay, Terzo. Food will be here soon.” You walk back into the dining room, leaving him alone in the kitchen. Something is buzzing inside you. Curiosity, you think, or at least that’s what you’re telling yourself. Were you flirting back with him? Yes, the answer is yes. The vibes are certainly different than those you were hit with the day before. You are no stranger to getting some attention on the job, having work crushes in the past that never really amounted to anything (by design, of course), but this is different. The setting is so intimate and half the time so far he is hardly wearing clothes.

Unpredictable. He is unpredictable.

The rest of the day is smooth with Terzo floating around the house, always making sure to stay somewhat close to you to see what you’re doing. He has a different snack each time and offers you some which you politely decline. By the time the end of the day rolls around he’s gone, probably asleep somewhere. 

You feel it was a productive day. Leaves crunch beneath your feet as you walk from the porch back to your car, your backpack slung across your shoulder. There is still some stress bubbling up in your stomach. You think about how you’ve seen so many colors of him already and it’s only the second day. 

You wonder what Terzo you’ll be getting tomorrow.

***

Terzo can’t get enough. His face is buried between your legs, his mouth and tongue working you over as he groans and pushes further into you. He digs his fingers into your thighs and ruts his hips against the mattress. The taste… your taste makes him moan, nearly whining for more and more, his cock leaking and pulsing with each lap of his tongue. He feels invigorated, finally tasting you and putting his expert skills to good use pleasing you. 

He is hardly holding on, his cock throbbing and he frantically grinds against the mattress and sheets, the tension building in his abdomen and leg muscles. Terzo swipes his tongue sloppily along your folds, desperate for you and your taste. He tries to stay composed, to stay in control but it’s all too much and he comes undone, your name on his lips —-

Terzo’s eyes open and he realizes that he’s been sloppily sucking on the corner of his pillow. He lifts his head and eyes the damp pillow, then rolls over to find that he came in his paints. A guttural growl rips from his lips as his fingers dig into his sheets, then angrily tears right through them with his sharp nails. He is so impatient, so needy for you even his dreams are cutting to the chase. 

But he knows he still needs to bide his time. It’ll be all the more delicious that way. Doesn’t mean that he can’t be a little bit cranky about it, though. 

Terzo peels off his briefs and tosses them across the room, landing in a pile of dirty clothes off to the corner. He lays in bed naked for a moment, his mind wandering back to what his mornings used to look like. They weren’t so different than now, starting off with him alone in his room but he would at least have people fawning over him and following him around all throughout breakfast and his duties. He used to enjoy the quiet time on his own when he could get it but now…

But now all he has is you. 

He swings his legs off the bed and slowly pushes himself to his feet, shuffling toward the bathroom. The bathroom is black marble throughout with a shower and bath in one corner and another clawed, golden bathtub in the center of the room. He turns the hot water on for the bathtub, and only the hot water. Ever since he came back from Hell, he could withstand scalding heat and is unable to enjoy his baths any other way. Terzo skims his hand along the surface of the hot water, his thoughts far away as he watches the tub fill. 

Him and Omega used to take baths together. Sometimes they ended up being a couple of goofs, playing around with bubble bath and other times, it was the start of a rather long night for the both of them.

He slips into the tub and sinks down into the scalding water until everything is fully submerged except the top half of his face. Terzo glares over the still water, his gaze settling on the golden faucet. Anger and frustration bubbles up inside of him, the overwhelming feeling of being so isolated taking its toll on him. 

It’s not fair. He did more for the Ghost Project than any of his brothers. As if the power didn’t go to their heads at all… as if the power isn’t going to il Cardinale’s head right now, and yet Terzo was the one who was punished and humiliated for it. He growls from beneath the surface of the water and his hands drift up to grip onto the sides of the tub. 

At least he isn’t dead.

Terzo tries to remind himself of this but sometimes he thinks maybe he would be better off reaping the benefits of being the Morningstar’s mouthpiece in Hell with his brothers. Maybe he would be able to see Omega and the other ghouls that were banished after he was removed. 

His eyes refocus on the bath and he notices that water bath water is now boiling around him. Terzo yelps and scrambles out of the tub, slipping a few times before making it onto the cool marbles floor. He looks down at himself, water droplets glistening on his perfect skin and he is shocked to see that he is totally fine. His eyes drift back to the tub, the water now still but murky. He grabs a towel and dries himself off, keeping a watery eye on the tub as he makes his way to the bathroom mirror to embark on his usual morning routine.

Moisturize. Apply face paint. Stare at himself while naked. He flexes his muscles, his gaze falling over his body as he moves to highlight each area. He’s grown a bit of a pouch of a stomach but it doesn’t bother him too much — he’s not twirling or running around on stage anymore, he’s earned a little bit of pudge. Terzo can’t help but slip his hand down to give himself a few lazy strokes, the thought crossing his mind of you seeing him naked for the first time, as if you haven’t seen enough already. 

He runs his free hand through his soft, damp hair. Terzo has been lazy lately, letting his hair dry however it feels like. Sometimes it came out in nice waves but most of the time it stuck up in all directions and also somehow fell into his face. He feels different about today, though. He grabs his product and starts to style it, taking the time to make sure it’s perfect. His hair has grown longer than he’s used to with it curling behind his ears and at the top of his neck. He does it best to smooth it down. 

His reflection looks weary but reminiscent of how he used to appear onstage during the beginning of his reign. Terzo’s grip on his half hard cock tightens, a grunt spilling from his lips before he tears his eyes away from the mirror and lets himself go. He strides out of the bathroom and slips on a fresh pair of briefs. 

Terzo is feeling a certain way today. He wants to look good… maybe because of you. He saw the way you looked at him yesterday, how your eyes wandered over his body and your cheeks grew rosy. His lips quirk into a grin as he thinks about it. Or maybe he wants to look good because he wants to feel good. He opens his vintage armoire, his gaze flitting over  The fanciest loungewear he has and he’ll wear it for you, a plush black smoking jacket with a golden collar and gold detail that goes down to his knees. 

He ends up back in front of his mirror, admiring himself in his smoking jacket. Despite being pleased with his appearance, the anger and frustration still boils deep inside him. The hoops he had to go through just to get attention these days… the way he now has to tiptoe around getting what he really wants from you when before he could just have it. He is touch-starved and hasn’t fucked in quite some time, the fact he was buzzing just from brushing his arm against yours, that ever since you started (two DAYS ago) he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about taking you, tasting you, fucking you, to the point that he came in his sleep. 

It’s pathetic.

Another growl rumbles up from his chest and he finally leaves his bedroom, assuming that you should be here by now.

His assumption is correct. It is nearly lunchtime now and you’ve been diligently cataloging and boxing up the remaining memorabilia for most of the morning. You feel a little bit lighter, a little bit more comfortable in the job, even though you know your responsibilities will most likely change once you are done with the dining room. And from what happened yesterday… you are looking forward to seeing Terzo and wonder where he must be. Maybe still sleeping?

When you arrived that morning, a piece of paper was left on the dining room table. It was your resume with incredibly beautiful script scribbled on the back of it: your job offer in writing with a higher salary than was mentioned in the past. You can’t help but wonder if it’s because of how things went yesterday, how you two had flirted and talked for the first time.

You would hate to admit it but he was the last thing you thought about before falling asleep last night. It was the most restful sleep you’ve gotten in a long time.

Maybe this is where you’re meant to be. Still though, you think about the deal you made with yourself a few days ago – sticking around until the first paycheck and then re-evaluating. You had good days at your previous job but that didn’t make you hate it overall any less. 

Critical thoughts dissipate as he enters the dining room, your face going blank as you take in what he’s wearing. He looks dapper – put together even! You blink a few times then clear your throat.

“Good morning.” You croak, realizing that you haven’t spoken for the better part of the morning. Terzo gives a soft grunt in response and he offers a tight lipped smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“I see you have made great progress.” He hums as he stalks around the dining room, examining the boxes and the neatly printed sheets of paper taped to them with the contents of each listed out. 

“Yeah, almost done.” You smile brightly at him, feeling yourself start to warm up just from him being in the same room as you. “Have you given any more thought on which of your books you want displayed?”

Uncomfortable silence fills the room as you watch Terzo’s face turn from indifferent to twisted anger.

“I DON’T WANT THEM DISPLAYED, I WANT THEM GONE!” 

You are knocked back into your seat from the volume of his voice. His teeth are bared and sharp canines almost hang over his lower lip, deep snarls ripping from his throat as he glares at you from across the table. 

“The entire reason I hired you is so you would do what I say and get this shit out of my SIGHT!” Terzo hisses as he slams his fist down on the table, one of the dim bulbs illuminating the room shatters from the mere strength of his voice. You are frozen, seated at the dining room table that is nearly clear of his memorabilia now, your eyes glued to his fiery ones. He leaves you, the door slamming behind him and it feels like the entire house shakes from it. 

You look down at your hands which are laid out on the table, watching them tremble. His voice was so strong, so much so that you thought you could feel it booming in your own chest. It’s terrifying that he has that sort of power and that his mood could switch on a dime just like that. So angry and over what? A question? Still though… you can’t ignore the throbbing ache between your legs. Usually being yelled at terrified you, having been afraid of making mistakes or getting in trouble from a young age, but you’ve never felt this before.

You clear your throat again, trying to calm yourself down but your cheeks are on fire. He looked at you like he wanted to devour you, like he wanted to punish you. You wet your lips and suck in a deep, shaky breath. Your thighs press together and you squirm in your seat as you try to get back to work, organizing a few different variations of white gloves. The thought comes to your mind about what it would feel like if he spanked you wearing a pair of these gloves.

You drop the pair and bury your flushed face into your hands, incredibly embarrassed by the thought.

Maybe you like it when he’s angry. 

Meanwhile, Terzo spends the rest of his afternoon pacing in his office in a panic. He’s afraid he’s ruined everything now. You certainly weren’t going to stick around after he yelled at you like that and he wouldn’t blame you. Sure, there were moments when he was Papa that he was prone to having angry outbursts. Usually Omega would be the one to bring him back down to Earth or if it occurred after he had gone… well, Terzo ended up feeling justified for the behavior, being Papa and all. 

But this isn’t the clergy. He has no protection. He only has you and he could have fucked it all up. Terzo didn’t want to start the process over again of finding someone to help. He only wants you now. He sits on top of his desk and runs his hands through his hair, strands having fallen out of place due to his outburst. 

You have gathered up your things and start to make your way to the front door when the door to his office opens and he steps out. Terzo fiddles with his hands, staying silent until he is closer to you, his eyes focused on the ground before drifting up to your gaze.

“I am so very sorry, mio toppolino.” He sounds quiet, heartbroken, even. “That was inappropriate of me.”

“Oh.” Your grip on your backpack tightens, a blush rising across your cheeks. “It’s okay. Really.”

“No, it is not. It is unacceptable.”

“Terzo, it is really okay. I mean it.” The blush only spreads, covering your cheeks and moves up to the tips of your ears. Your eyes are wide and you can’t control yourself from giggling, trying to cover it up with a couch. You feel insane.

He is staring at you, really staring at you, and his eyebrows knot in confusion. Then, it hits him. You want to play with him. Terzo’s lips stretch into a cat-lick grin, his eyes turning seductive. This is quite the development. He feels his cock jump in his briefs but he remains collected.

“Since you don’t want your stuff displayed, maybe think about if there’s anything you would want in your office. Looks kinda sad without any stuff in there.” You quip before turning to the front door and leaving him standing in the sitting room, watching you go as his hand slips into his jacket and then down his briefs.

[ireadyabooks]

Summer Full of Shivers ☀️☠️🩸

Summer scaries have arrived! This time of year is for spooky stories around the campfire and spine-tingling books that you maybe shouldn’t save for right before you go to bed. But hey, that’s part of the fun, right! We can never get enough horror in our lives and have some chilling reads for you to sink your teeth into in the summer heat! Check out some of our recent favorites below, and don’t forget to keep an extra light on at night! Or don’t . . . we leave that up to you . . .

The Getaway by Lamar Giles

Jay is living his best life at Karloff Country, one of the world's most famous resorts. He's got his family, his crew, and an incredible after-school job at the property's main theme park. Life isn't so great for the rest of the world, but when people come here to vacation, it's to get away from all that.

As things outside get worse, trouble starts seeping into Karloff. First, Jay's friend Connie and her family disappear in the middle of the night and no one will talk about it. Then the richest and most powerful families start arriving, only... they aren't leaving. Unknown to the employees, the resort has been selling shares in an end-of-the-world oasis. The best of the best at the end of days. And in order to deliver the top-notch customer service the wealthy clientele paid for, the employees will be at their total beck and call.

Whether they like it or not.

Yet Karloff Country didn't count on Jay and his crew -- and just how far they'll go to find out the truth and save themselves. But what's more dangerous: the monster you know in your home or the unknown nightmare outside the walls?

Start reading The Getaway now!

Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater

From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Raven Boys, the haunting and original supernatural romance returns in a new edition

For years, Grace has watched the wolves in the woods behind her house. One yellow-eyed wolf--her wolf--is a chilling presence she can't seem to live without. Meanwhile, Sam has lived two lives: In winter, the frozen woods, the protection of the pack, and the silent company of a fearless girl. In summer, a few precious months of being human . . . until the cold makes him shift back again.

Now, Grace meets a yellow-eyed boy whose familiarity takes her breath away. It's her wolf. It has to be. But as winter nears, Sam must fight to stay human--or risk losing himself, and Grace, forever.

Start reading Shiver now!

The Deep Dark by Molly Knox Ostertag

From Molly Knox Ostertag, writer-illustrator of the New York Times and ABA Indie bestselling The Witch Boy trilogy and The Girl from the Sea, comes a darkly beautiful story of identity, family, love, loss, and magic.

Everyone has secrets. Mags’s has teeth.

Magdalena Herrera is about to graduate high school, but she already feels like an adult with serious responsibilities: caring for her ailing grandmother; working a part-time job; clandestine makeouts with a girl who has a boyfriend. And then there’s her secret, which pulls her into the basement each night, drains her of energy, and leaves her bleeding. A secret that could hurt and even kill if it ever got out -- like it did once before.

So Mags keeps her head down, isolated in her small desert community. That is, until her childhood friend Nessa comes back to town, bringing vivid memories of the past, an intoxicating glimpse of the future, and a secret of her own. Mags won’t get attached, of course. She’s always been strong enough to survive without anyone’s help.

But when the darkness starts to close in on them both, Mags will have to drag her secret into the daylight, and choose between risking everything . . . or having nothing left to lose.

Start reading The Deep Dark now!

A Darker Mischief by Derek Milman

The Honeys meets The Secret History in a work of dark academia like no other -- a boarding school thriller about a queer teen from Mississippi who finds himself swept into a world of old money, privilege, and the secret society at the heart of it all.

When Cal Ware wins a scholarship to an elite New England boarding school, he's thrilled to leave his past behind. Back home in Mississippi, he was the poor, queer kid who never fit in. But at Essex Academy, he'll be able to reinvent himself. Or so he hopes . . .

But at Essex, Cal's classmates only see his cheap clothes and old iPhone. They mock his accent, and can't believe he's never left the country, or heard of The Hamptons. Cal, at his breaking point, is about to give up and return to Mississippi when he learns about a secret society on campus -- the key to becoming Essex royalty.

Cal knows he's not exactly secret society material, but to his surprise, he finds an unlikely champion in the handsome, charismatic, and slightly dangerous Luke Kim. As they get swept up in the mystery and glamour of the Rush process, Cal finds himself falling in love for the first time.

But as the initiation rituals grow riskier -- and increasingly nefarious -- Cal must decide how far he's willing to go, and how much of himself he's willing to sacrifice, to save everything and everyone he cherishes most. Because nothing at Essex -- not even Cal's first love -- is quite what it seems.

Start reading A Darker Mischief now!

The Other Ones by Fran Hart

A beautiful and unputdownable story about love, friendship, and the ghosts that grief can leave behind, The Other Ones is a heartfelt, contemporary romance with a haunting twist . . .

Salem Amani is a world-weary sixteen-year-old living with his mother and older sister in a haunted house. But all Sal really wants is to be ordinary, which is hard to do when you live in a house full of ghosts. And when a strange boy arrives on his doorstep asking more questions than he’s at all comfortable with, Sal’s efforts to be ordinary are put under even greater strain. Until Pax makes his offer: “I could help you with the hauntings . . . I’m good with ghosts.”

But despite his initial dislike of Pax, Sal can’t help but find himself unexpectedly drawn to the boy. And as the two grow closer, and Pax offers to help Sal scare away his ghosts for good, Sal finds himself sinking deeper into a lie concealing the truth about his family.

When the true nature of the “hauntings” is revealed, Sal must confront reality – or risk losing Pax for good.

Start reading The Other Ones now!

[vitally-undead]

Hearts and Gods

Tw: blood, gore, allusion to sex at some point i think, mild cannibalism, does blood licking/consuming count? eh whatever. no use of y/n. y/n is just as bad as homelander. deadpool esque powers. r's eyes are gold. not beta read.

880 somethin words, aint got a good way to summarize it. y/n is gender neutral, nothin described aside from eye color as aforementioned.

Loving him was dangerous. That you knew, everyone knew. He himself was dangerous. A devil disguised as an angel for the public. Unpredictable yet predictable at the same time. He loved with all consuming violence. To be loved by him was not unlike being loved by death.

Death followed him everywhere. Whether he was covered in the blood of a criminal. The viscera of some unlucky employee who triggered his wrath, just another body shoved under the rug by Vought. You knew he enjoyed it, the killing, watching the life drain from a person's eyes as he crushed their heart in their chest. Or watching their body crumble in half without its spine. You knew all of this, you couldn't claim innocence when you were just as bad. Just as bloodthirsty as him. It's what made you two so compatible. That and the fact that if Homelander ever lost control with you, you would just bounce right back.

You should be dead. But you werent. You could heal any and every injury you endured. Vought made sure of that. You weren't invincible by no means, you could be injured, though that wasnt done easily. A slight squeeze pulled your wandering thoughts back to earth. You sighed softly as the hand around your heart loosened its tight grip slightly. Blue eyes met gold. Homelander cocked his head looking at you, lips pulled in a frown. His eyes dropped to your chest, gaze a mixture of disbelief and curiosity as it usually was. You ended up like this often, when he grew angry, or paranoid. So you stood, sternum cracked open, thumping heart exposed. Does it hurt? Some might wonder, at first, it does, but then it's a sweet pain that no one else but you and he would understand.

His gloves were long discarded on the table. Preferring to feel your heart in its entirety against his skin. His hand wrapped around behind the muscle as it beat. Blood coated your front, soaking onto the floor. Your lips twitched in a wry smirk at the thought of poor Ashley walking in. No doubt she would have a heart attack, thinking Homelander was in the midst of killing his team member. You let out a soft laugh, heart jolting in his hand as your lungs contracted. He looked at you his own amusement playing in his gaze as his thumb stroked over your ventricle.

"Thinking about Ashley again?" He questioned his other hand situated on your hip. "Mhm." You hummed in confirmation smiling at him. His grip tightened momentarily and you fleetingly thought if he was going to tear your heart free of your chest. You wouldn't mind, only remaining dead for a few seconds before another one grew back. He looked at you, you looked back. You clashed as much as you melded together. Each testing the other. You smirked and leaned backwards, your heartbeat strained as a familiar tugging sensation pulled in your chest. He stood there in silent contemplation, arm in your chest, heart in hand.

"Not today." He muttered his grip on your hip tightening as he pulled you closer. He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. It was messy and hungry, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip drawing blood. You groaned low pulse beginning to race, heart thrumming in his hand as he licked the blood from your lips as the small punctures closed. You kissed back, arm curling behind his neck, hand buried in his hair as you tugged him closer. You parted for a second a string of red tinged saliva connecting your mouths.

"I love you." You whispered gazing into his eyes. You kissed him this time. slowly, firmly pouring your feelings into the kiss. "I love you." You repeated, voice a low murmur. You said it like a mantra, like a prayer. A loyal worshiper at the altar of their deity. You clung to him as he clung to you. You needed him as he needed you. Homelander let go of your heart, removing his hand from your chest with a gentleness most wouldn't expect him to have. You exhaled slowly as your skin and bone grew back and the only trace of what happened was the blood staining your stomach and clothes, the blood and bone on the floor and the blood on his hands. He looked at his hand in silent awe almost before sucking the blood off two of his fingers. Pulling his hand from his mouth he wrapped it loosely around your throat pulling you in and kissing you harshly once more, shoving the taste of your blood from his tongue into your mouth. He pulled back with a smug grin as you panted. You looked around chewing your bottom lip.

"I feel bad for whoever they send up to clean the mess." You say as he scoffed curling his arms around your waist pressing his face in the crook of your neck. "No you don't." Homelander murmurs nipping along your pulse point. You laugh quietly, "Fine, I don't." You admit tugging on his hair making his breath hitch. Then you're in his arms and he's walking out presumably to take you home. You spent the rest of that evening in his bed, after you had showered of course. 

[hitomisuzuya]

I've been curious on how Xiao and Scaramouche would be like if they had ruts/heats like Tighnari.

For Xiao I can imagine being a good friend occasionally seeing him at the inn since you work there but being worried he didn't show up like he usually does, so you go to his room to see if he's ok-

For Scaramouche it would make it more interesting if you're the Tsaritsa's daughter or creation so you're held in a higher rank then him. So of course when you needed to ask him something and can't find him in his office, you barge into his home(not sure if they have homes or have rooms?) Or maybe he seems you out despite the power difference

These thoughts live in my head rent free 🥴

a/n: I love writing Genshin boys in a rut. I hope you enjoy. I wrote a piece about a month ago about Xiao in heat. I'm very proud of it. Btw, I love the touch about the reader being the Tsaritsa's daughter.

Scaramouche x fem!reader Xiao x fem!reader Smut.

You'd been going up to the area on the roof of Wangshu Inn where Xiao always frequented. It was getting late, and he still wasn't back yet. Verr Goldet told you go home hours ago, but you insisted on staying.

Verr let you do as you pleased. You were a model employee, and she knew you were worried about Xiao. She knew it would be good for Xiao to know that someone was worried about him.

A soft gust of wind ruffled your hair. It wasn't any ordinary wind. It was a gentle breeze of Anemo. Your heart leapt when you realized Xiao was finally back. Your eyes widened when you saw the condition he was in.

Xiao was littered with cuts and bruises. His cheeks were flushed. He was panting quietly, his eyes looking slightly unfocused. You'd never seen him this way before. You immediately went to his side.

"Xiao, you are hurt? Let me you clean these cuts up. Some of them look painful," you said, quickly scanning him for bruises.

When your fingers brushed against one, he grabbed your wrist. "Stop (you were confused that he was panting quietly), it is best if you leave. I can do this myself," Xiao said.

"What's wrong, Xiao? Please let me help you. It's what friends do. I saw Qiqi playing outside before you got back. Let me tell her to fetch Baizhu."

Xiao slapped a hand against the wall next to your head. "Friends..help each other," he mused out loud. His hands were already starting to roam over your body. "Consider for a moment if you want to use your body to help me. I'm.." gritting his teeth, Xiao looked away, embarrassed, "in a rut. If you say no, I'll leave and take care of this myself."

You gulped. You couldn't deny how you felt about him. Waiting around practically all night proved that. You nodded, making his eyes widen in surprise. "I want to help you in any way I can, Xiao, whether it be with my body or any other way."

Bunching your skirt up around your hips, Xiao pushed your panties aside while he took his cock out of his pants. He took you right there against the wall., rubbing your clit when he heard you whimper softly in pain. "I'm sorry, the scent of your arousal is driving me insane."

You didn't think you'd cum so hard in your life that night.

Scaramouche would be different from Xiao when he was in a rut. You were the Tsaritsa's daughter, and her right hand woman. Your rank was equivalent to her's. You'd started receiving complaints from his subordinates because he wasn't around to direct them for the past few days.

The authority you held over him made it okay to just barge into his quarters. He was sitting in the dark, jacking himself off, his hands sticky with cum. At some point, his hand just wasn't enough anymore. Let's call his ruts an unfortunate (or was it now that you were there) side effect of being created.

"What do you think you are doing? I'm busy here. This has better be good," Scaramouche barked rudely.

"I demand to know where you have been the past few days," you replied, feeling embarrassed that you'd caught him such a compromising position.

"Don't think you can order me around, I don't care if you are the Tsaritsa's daughter. Get out," he snarled, glaring at you. Don't take it personally, he was frustrated.

"Oh, but I can. And I will," you shot him a glare of your own. Walking over to his bed, you picked up his hand, licking some of his cum off his fingers. You had to tempt him, Scaramouche had too much pride to ask you to help him.

When he yanked his hand away from you, you sighed and stripped yourself of your clothes. He was watching you now. You'd piqued his curiosity.

"We are going to fix this here and now. You have been causing a lot of trouble for everyone lately," you proclaimed, straddling him, his hard cock sinking into your pussy.

As you started to ride him, Scaramouche gripped your hips, his eyes never once leaving yours as he thrust up into you. "What would everyone think if they knew that the Tsaritsa's daughter was fucking me right now, moaning like a little bitch."

[centipede-gutzz]

🥀 BRACKEN RELATIONSHIP HCS

A/N: oohh bracken my beloved...my autistic plant creature. features some bracken hcs of my own.

WARNINGS: hints of death.

TYPE: headcanons, gn reader, platonic/romantic, fluff

Echoed footsteps are heard throughout the halls of the building. You lost contact with one of your teammates not too long ago, the cut-off screams from the walkie-talkie still haunting you. Blinking away your tears, you continue trekking your way towards the end of the hall.

Yet, you can't help but feel watched. Shivers run through your body as you become immobile, unable to move out of fear. It's behind you. Whatever it is, you can't bring yourself to look. As hands slowly wrap around your head, you shut your eyes in hopes that you can prepare for whatever comes next.

You feel yourself being lifted from the ground as purring is heard from the creature behind you. Leaves rustle as the Bracken holds you close, nuzzling its head against yours. This certainly isn't what you expected...

...but perhaps, you can get used to this.

PLATONIC

☆- the bracken was enamored when it first saw you. thankfully, with no ill intent. seeing you quiver in fear and sadness of your lost teammates, it only drove it closer to you.

☆- throwing its neck snapping nature aside, it holds you instead in an attempt to comfort you.

☆- it'll guide you to its own little room to hide you away from the dangers of other entities roaming around.

☆- if you're not keen on physical touch, it'll let you go to give you space. from then on, it simply tilts its head as if to ask permission to hold you.

☆- it's not capable of human speech but it understands you to a certain level. whether it can understand you or not, it loves to hear you speak.

☆- tries its best to cheer you up if you're sad. it can't do much with words but it will hold you close if you let it. flowers will bloom on its body to calm you down, letting you stroke the petals.

☆- you basically have your own personal bodyguard. if you plan to resume your loot finding, it'll follow you around to scare off anything that tried to harm you.

☆- if any other teammates are around you as well, you have to ask it to not kill them. it'll respect your wishes, but it won't stop growling at whoever gets too close.

☆- if you need to return back to the ship, it may not follow you out of the building. it'll be sad to see you go, but it has its hope high that it will see you soon.

ROMANTIC

☆- brackens are already somewhat social with employees such as you, but relationships are certainly another step it would be happy to take.

☆- tries to give you items in an attempt to court you, as well as showing off whatever flowers it has growing on its body.

☆- 100% more affectionate than before if you let it. there's never a moment where it doesn't ask you to hold hands.

☆- it doesn't have lips to kiss you (not that you can too with your helmet), but it'll do its best to imitate one. it simply presses its face against your forehead or where your mouth is. its leaves can't help but shiver in embarrassment.

☆- if you're at the relationship stage with the bracken, it'll let you help trim it when needed. it usually likes to do it on its own, but it trusts you enough to let you help.

☆- it would be protective of you no matter what, but being its partner increases it tenfold. the last thing it wants is to see you get hurt. if it happens to accidentally hurt you itself, it'll feel EXTREMELY guilty about it.

☆- everything is different if you initiate the affection instead. it just freezes up and a multitude of flowers immediately bloom everywhere on its body, and maybe on the ground too. it's super happy that you feel the same way it does for you, expressing its giddiness with shaky leaves and a low purr. it truly loves you, and will forever be appreciative of your presence.

[icycoldninja]

Heyy how have you been? Hope everything has been going well for you!! I wanted to ask if you're able to write a Raiden X reader fic where reader comes home after a tough day at work. Wanting to unwind and relax with him, it could be fluff or whatever you want to put it! I enjoy reading what you put out here🥹🥹❤️

Sup? Thanks for your well-wishing--everything has been going well for me. I got FFVII Rebirth and am now obsessed with playing it, so I might be a little inactive for a few weeks, but don't worry, I'm still writing whenever I have time and am glad to write requests like these. I mean, come on, the concept's so cute! (I chose to write about MGR:R Raiden if that's OK with you) Thanks so much for reading, and please enjoy.

Chilling out (MGR:R!Raiden x Reader fluff)

Today had to have been one of the worst work days of you life. Your boss, who was a cranky, stingy old man to begin with, had come to work more irritated than usual. It was like he'd not only gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, but also gotten yelled at by his wife and badgered by his kids not long after.

He'd chewed out nearly everyone in your office, but seemed to be directing the brunt of his anger to you. You tried to ignore him at first, but eventually, the constant screaming and whining became too much for you. You decided to clock out early, not really caring whether or not he fired you for it--he probably wouldn't, though, given that you were one of the few hard working employees he had left.

The moment you set your foot through the door, you felt like your soul had left your body; the calm air you had put on dissipating and leaving you more exhausted and drained than you ever thought was physically possible.

"Hey, babe, welcome back." You heard the clanking of metal feet against wooden floor as Raiden, your 80% robot boyfriend, stalked up to you. "Yeah, I'm back," You sighed, setting your bags on the floor and stumbling into Raiden's outstretched arms. "You tired?" He asked, squeezing you gently, yet firmly, with his metallic limbs. "Mmhmm," You grumbled, feeling your eyelids grow heavy and lower involuntarily. "Wanna nap?" You shook your head wearily; if you took a nap now, you'd never get to sleep tonight. "Then...why don'tcha go sit on the couch and we'll watch a movie or something?" You nodded sleepily, sluggishly making your way over to the couch and collapsing onto it. Raiden followed you, sitting down on the seat next to you and picking up the remote from the coffee table.

"Got any idea what you wanna watch?" You shook your head, resting your head against the armrest. "I'll pick something then."

After a few moments of quietly scrolling through a random streaming service, Raiden settled on some kind of crime-drama and pressed play on the first episode. While the show was interesting, you weren't really invested in it. Your mind was clouded with exhaustion; your body longed for rest, but you were too stubborn to let sleep claim you.

As you struggled to keep your eyes open, you decided to slide over to Raiden and place your head on his cold metal body, which hopefully would help keep the drowsiness at bay. This plan backfired, unfortunately; the soft rumbling of the machinery within was comforting and only served to lull you to sleep faster. Before you knew it, your eyes slid shut, and try as you might, there was no fighting sleep's vise-like hold.

After the first episode ended, Raiden's gaze drifted down to your slumbering form laying on his torso. Smiling, he ran his clawed hand carefully through your hair and down your back, chuckling softly to himself as he did so. He knew he should wake you up or you'd be too energetized to sleep, but you were so adorable--surely a few minutes wouldn't hurt, would it?

"Sweet dreams, precious," Raiden whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "I love ya."

[hilsonamore]

THOUGHTS ON S4 EP12, HOUSE M.D (pt.1)

“ Don’t Ever Change”

I have so many thoughts regarding this episode it’s actually crazy. Okay so, here me out-

First of all, starting off strong with these two, with house asking wilson all these questions and pestering him about dating amber and asking him why on earth he would ever date her. And then they get into the elevator and house is betting against wilson that the relationship will only last 2 more months and wilson looks over at him and says:

“We’re at four months”

“You hid this from me?”

“I thought you’d be upset”

There’s all lot to unpack here. To start with, dr wilson, why would you hide from your best friend the fact that you are dating somebody else? They literally talk about everything with each other, and especially about the people they’re seeing (at least wilson is, because house doesn’t do anything else with his time apart from sticking his nose in all-wilson-related stuff). Maybe it’s because amber is an ex employee of house’s? But why would that upset him, regardless of..well, his being house. I mean sure, house was talking her down all the time “cutthroat bitch this and cutthroat bitch that”, but still.

And honestly, the best thing in this entire sequence, in my opinion, is house’s expression when he realises that wilson hid something so important from him. My man is in sock, he’s so used to wilson spilling his guts out to him, so used to having everything perfectly calculated when it comes to his best friend, that this gapping hole in his knowledge leaves him bereft. I have honestly never seen him so flabbergasted before.

And also wilson, dear, “i thought you’d be upset”. Like, i know he probably means that house would go feral over his dating somebody he literally shits on all the time, who just so happens to be a literal mirror of himself, but it makes me feel kinda funny how wilson just always has house in my mind and he knows perfectly well how he’s going to react to everything, thus taking necessary measures to secure… an appropriate amount of mental stability.

Um. I honestly don’t know where to start with this one. Firstly, house is scary. Yeah no shit sherlock. But like, he knows he’s scary, it’s not like his self-obsessed person would ever assume that people don’t quiver under his gaze (that phrase can be translated into plenty of different things, but you know what i mean). This particular phrase, i think, is not even directed towards wilson, but it’s more like house asking himself that. He knows he is scary, he knows wilson is pretty pathetic, he also knows, deep down, whether he wants to admit it out loud or not, that he desperately needs wilson in his life… the man clings on to him like he’s the fucking sun and he cant live without his radiance. Aaaand, he also knows that Amber, like him, is scary. And yet he wonders:

“Why would anyone, other than me, cling on to this man? How would such a paradoxical courtship even work?”

I just love how hypocritical and ridiculous this statement is, because not only does house know, but we as the audience can spot the oxymoron of his wondering: why would an alternate version of myself cling on to someone i need.

Just admit it babe, you want those puppy brown eyes all to yourself.

Next off, what the fuck do you mean he broke into his best friend’s/ his girlfriend’s (i don’t know whose it is) apartment just to have a little chitchat with Amber? To literally attempt to force her into breaking up with wilson? Re-Offering her a spot in his team only if she stops seeing his best friend? I mean seriously, realistically speaking, why is he even doing that?

Sure, he doesn’t like her but he respects her enough and understands her as a character because she doesn’t remind him of his own self, she literally is another personification of his own individual, and it scares the hell out of him, because he can predict the course of things. So why does he want them to break up? Because he knows she’s going to hurt wilson, she’s bound to, she’s bound to extract all the goodness, all the energy out of wilson and leave him bare when she doesn’t need him anymore. He knows she’s ultimately going to hurt him because he fears he’s going to do that to wilson as well, sooner or later, and he doesn’t want anybody else to do that other than him, if things come to that (this is SICK).

And it’s not just the “i’ll do anything for you not to lay a finger on him” or the “if you hurt him, you’re dead”, it’s not just house’s overprotectiveness over wilson, it’s also his acknowledgment of the fact that, if there’s two of them, two people who need wilson, two people who want him all to themselves, two people who cling on to him for dear life, then it’s almost certain that one of them will eventually be let go of. And house fears that that one person might be him. And he can’t risk that.

Also, on to a more silly and also craaaazy note… the way house looks at amber when he tells her to give wilson his sweatshirt back- holy. Actual. Shit. I swear to god i thought he was going to bite her head off. The way his eyes have this murderous, warning gleam, their proximity, the danger and warning in his voice i- boy is just like “give my boyfriend his sweatshirt back or else we’ll be having more than a few exchanges of words next time”

IM GONNA MAKE A PART 2 BECAUSE THIS IS GOING TO BE WAY TOO LONG SO STAY TUNED😔