#aldi writes

[tarmac-rat]

These are from the same document.

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Evolution of Eliot/Hardison hugs over the years.

And the one time that Eliot really needed a hug:

Leverage S02E08/S03E10/S04E01/S04E07/S04E10/S05E09/Leverage Redemption S01E16/S02E06.

[stellewriites]

Hii! Can you do ghoap x reader fluff? Like cuddles with mild flirting (from soap, obviously) and like soap is the little spoon, because in return he gets head scratches in return, reader in the middle, and Simon as the big spoon just pressing his face into the crook of readers neck?

Would rlly apreciate it <3

-🌑

i loved this idea when i read it and then proceeded to take far too long to actually answer it lmao BUT!! here it is,, ghoap x fem!reader fluff - ty for the request 💓

you picked up the cheap jar of pasta sauce and compared it to the branded version stacked next to it. as far as you could tell, the ingredients were the same and the little veg chunks included weren’t any smaller.

you nodded to yourself. it was decided, you weren’t paying two quid extra just for a name, fuck dolmio.

you looked higher to the top shelf and frowned when you saw the pasta had been pushed away from the edge and you’d be unable to reach it on your own.

“need a hand, dove?”

you turned to see a handsome man with a mohawk beelining towards you, his eyes tracing your frame with hot familiarity. without waiting for your response, he bullied his way into your space to reach over you for the pasta. barely stepping back, he handed you the pack and looked you up and down.

“thanks, stranger,” you said, holding back a laugh at his amused smile. you saw the moment he decided to play along.

“pretty skirt,” he said and nodded down to your bare legs peeking out beneath the denim.

“hm, my boyfriend got me it,” you said, a little teasingly.

“oh? and this boyfriend, he’s left ye all alone to do the shoppin’ has he?”

“no, he’ll be back soon. and he’s kinda protective, won’t be happy seeing me talking to other guys,” you said trying not to smile.

“ah’m no’ scared,” he scoffed, his own smile breaking out as he looked around the aisle eagerly for the aforementioned boyfriend.

“i don’t know, he’s pretty big and strong, wears a scary mask,” you said.

“aye? reminds me o’ my boyfriend,” he said and you finally giggled, leaning in to kiss him and giving up playing pretend.

“dove, they got their tiger bread in stock again,” simon said as he rounded the corner of the aisle and interrupting your kiss. “i ha’n’t ‘ad this in ages.” simon barely paused at the unexpected appearance of johnny, his eyes turning up in the corners as he smiled under his mask. “johnny, look, tiger bread.”

“yeah, i seen, si,” johnny said fondly, crowding you back against the trolley. “only getting the one loaf?”

simon paused. “hm. you’re right.”

you snorted as he dropped the bread into the trolley before heading back to the bakery section and leaving the pair of you alone again.

“work was a fookin’ drag, dove, cannae stand all this paperwork they’re keepin’ me busy with,” johnny groaned into your temple. you petted his arm consolingly before turning back to your list and shopping trolley.

“you were injured less than a month back, john, you can’t have been expecting to be back in the field so soon?” you hummed as you continued shopping with johnny leant over your back.

his silence spoke volumes.

you shook your head as you made your way through the store and waved simon over as you passed him by, hoping he hadn’t harassed the bakery staff into making more tiger loaves last minute for him. the absolute fiend.

“wha’s wrong with him?” simon asked as he got back, hands full as he nodded to johnny’s slumped frame. you refrained from asking simon if you really needed three tiger breads and instead nudged your other boyfriend up from your shoulder.

“he’s bored,” you said easily, grinning when johnny pulled back properly to send you a betrayed look.

“fuck’s sake. c’mere,” simon huffed before dipping down to kiss him, chuffing a laugh as johnny sputtered at the woollen texture of the mask in between them. “you’ll be back in no time. just behave or it’ll be longer.”

“ye sound like cap,” johnny grimaced. he wiped a hand down his tired face. “when are we goin’ home, hm? fuckin’ knackered, could do with a nap before dinner.”

“y’drive ‘ere?” ghost asked while you grabbed a box of eggs, checking for any cracked inside.

“aye.”

“then you can leave whenever,” ghost said flatly, though the glint of his eyes in the overhead lights betrayed his amusement at johnny’s plight.

johnny pouted.

“yer cruel, si. tell him, dove, he’s heartless,” johnny bemoaned dramatically.

“you’re cruel and heartless, simon, would you prefer strawberry jam or raspberry for a change?”

“could be a treat,” ghost conceded.

johnny groaned at the both of you, pinching your hip when you laughed.

“you both know i cannae sleep without someone’s arms around me,” he huffed, turning his big puppy eyes on you both.

you caved immediately.

“aw poor baby,” you cooed, biting your lip when you saw simon roll his eyes. “let’s get this done quick then, yeah? go grab the burgers we like from the frozen section and that ice cream we got a couple weeks back.”

“yes, ma’am.” johnny jogged off.

“si, can i trust you not to make your way back to the bakery if i give you a list of items to grab?”

“no,” he admitted without shame. “i saw the lad in the back prepping more for tomorrow, think i could convince ‘im to cook ‘em now for me if given the time.”

“right. hand holding it is as we find the toiletries then. ‘s like herding cats with you two.”

simon hummed, his eyes trained on the section you knew the bakery to be hidden in.

—

once home, johnny packed away the majority of your shopping in record time, snatching the jam from simon’s hands and almost throwing it onto the work top before plying his mask up one handed and dragging him down into a rough kiss with the other. you watched, amused, with raised eyebrows as johnny dragged him back towards the bedroom desperately, waving a hand at you and gasping out a needy, “dove, c’mon, stop fucking around,” in between wet kisses.

you didn’t need to be told twice before attaching your hands onto simon’s thick waist from behind, guiding them from bumping into any furniture or walls as they stumbled blind to the bedroom.

johnny pulled back with a dopey smile and pushed simon none too gently onto the bed. you took advantage of his lowered height and pulled off his mask completely, rubbing a gentle hand over his buzz cut hair and down to his jaw. you leant in for a soft peck before feeling johnny’s hands and arms wrap around your soft stomach.

he clung to you, nuzzling at your cheek over your shoulder until you turned in his arms to share your attention.

you heard the bed creak as simon settled further up the bed as johnny kissed you. you shuffled back, parting from johnny just long enough to get your bearings and climb onto the bed, simon’s hands moving to guide you back as johnny hummed against your lips.

you flopped back into simon’s arms, got comfortable as he wrapped you up and held you tight against him.

johnny sighed in relief at the sight and shuffled down so he could rest his head on your chest.

you gathered him close and laughed when he started whining when your hands stayed on his shoulders.

“so needy johnny, have you ever heard the phrase ‘patience is a virtue’?” you teased as you started to run your nails through his hair, lightly scratching until he sighed and dropped his body weight against you and simon.

“too t’red,” he mumbled.

simon lifted his warm hand from your hip and draped it heavily over the back of johnny’s neck, keeping him close. soon enough, the scot was snoring.

you tried not to laugh, your chest bouncing johnny with your muffled chuckles. “i think that might be a record.”

“tired lamb,” simon said condescendingly, but he rubbed his thumb lovingly over the soft skin behind johnny’s ear.

“don’t be mean.” you grinned back at him.

simon hummed and rested his head into the crook of your neck, tucking you in closer with the arm still wrapped underneath your waist. “not bein’ mean.”

he nipped at your neck, a soft nibble that had you gasping and clenching your thick thighs around the one johnny had slipped inbetween.

“prick,” you huffed without malice when he stopped and let out a long tired breath in your ear. he hummed with closed eyes, clearly not listening.

you chuffed a laugh into johnny’s hair. the low thrum of arousal simon had brought on was easy enough to ignore but you’d have rather he’d finished what he started. instead, you tucked your cold toes between his large calves behind you in penance and tugged johnny even closer, enough to smother him. with your arse perched perfectly in simon’s lap and johnny nestled close to his second favourite place on your body, you were sure they’d give you what you were after once their nap is over. you closed your eyes with a smile; you could wait for them to get their energy up, and you loved your puppy piles just as much as they did.

[magicxc]

Stay With You

Pairings: Trevante Rhodes x Black Reader x Aldis Hodge

Word Count: 1652

Warnings: double penetration, hand job, cream pies

BBJ Masterlist

“Y’all when I said let's go camping, I was thinking something along the lines of smores, maybe even a cute lil bonfire,” I ranted. “But to be out here in natures ass crack, the possible meal of a grizzly bear is where I draw the line. 

“Y/N, we’re in a makeshift tent in the backyard, I doubt a grizzly is making it this far into the city,” Aldis sighed. 

“And if he does, we’ll hear him,” Trevante added. 

“Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

“This is practice Y/N, you stay complaining like this on the real campsite and a grizzly will be the least of your worries.”

“Aldi, is that a threat?” I gasped. 

“No, it’s a warning, so take heed.” 

“Ohhh Aldiii, you giving out warnings now?” Trevante mocked. 

Deadpanning Tre, I look over to Aldis to assess what the problem really is. 

“Aldi, you know I don’t do the whole nature thing, but I’m legitimately trying FOR YOU." 

“You ain’t gotta try if all you gone do is keep complaining,” he protested. 

“I AM -“

“Hey hey hey y’all enough,” Tre interrupted. “Let's put a pin in it before one of us says something we can’t take back. 

Always the peacemaker that one. Trevante is quite literally the definition of lover not a fighter, whereas Aldis on the other hand is my little hot head. We tend to clash from time to time, but we’re learning which buttons not to push. 

He’s been begging us to go camping for a minute now and I finally gave in last weekend, opting to do this only if I could work my way up there. Tre is no more keen to do it than I am, but pushed those feelings to the side for all the times Aldis has been so willing to try something for us. I guess it didn’t help that I’ve been bitching since we crawled inside here. 

Sighing, I apologized for my earlier whining and creeped over to his side of the tent to seal it with a kiss. He accepts it with a grumble, but the scowl on his face tells a different story. 

“Baby, I am so sorry for not coming in here with an open mind and if you let me, I’ll have us all making noises a grizzly wouldn’t dare interrupt.”

I get a small smile in return, but it’s not the heart melting one I’m used to seeing. 

“Please, forgive me and come morning I’ll fix your favorite breakfast.”

“There are no stoves in the woods,” Tre reminded. 

“Right, well I’ll do whatever it takes to survive in nature,” I promised. “No soap, no toothpaste, just a knife and my killer instincts.”

A chorus of woahs follows from both men, Aldis urging me to relax, emphasizing the idea that living in nature surrenders the use of modern technology not hygiene. 

“Yeah well I’ll stay clean ONLY if you forgive me,” I bargained. 

Chuckling, he leans in and pecks me on the lips, formally forgiving my prior tantrum. 

“Moving forward, I don’t wanna hear no lip and you’ll do exactly as I say,” he demanded.  

Wrapping my arms around his neck I lean in for another kiss, mumbling a yes sir. Deepening it, I feel Tre’s palm run across my ass, caressing its curves in the softest way. 

Aldis’ arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in closer as his lips run over mine, trailing down to my chin, my neck, and stopping just shy of my breast. 

“Now, tell me more about those non interrupting grizzly noises,” he says through light pecks. 

Shuffling off the floor Tre gets behind me, locking me in between them, sprinkling his fair share of kisses along my back in agreement with Aldis. 

Turning so that my body faces forward, I rest my arms on the shoulder of each man; leaning firstly into Tre and then into Aldi to swap a little bit of spit. 

“Well, for starters we’d need less clothes.“

“Like this shirt for instance,” Tre proposed as he tugged it off me. 

“And these pants,” Aldis added, unbuckling them. “They don’t really serve much purpose do they?”

Shaking my head no, I help them shed the rest of the clothes by ridding myself of the remaining undergarments. Now in my birthday suit, I watch as each man's clothing finds itself in a pile next to mine. 

Tongue slipping between teeth and over my lips, I can’t help the jolt of excitement that washes over me as I ready myself for both my men. Leaning over to Tre, I sink my teeth into his skin as I suck on his sweet spot, no doubt leaving a hickey - eager to mark him in the sexiest way. 

He breathes out soft, shy pants and I reach down to grab his semi hard dick as I stroke it back and forth. Dribbles of precum ooze from the tip and I drag my thumb forward to smear it against his length, allowing me to jerk him off a little more smoothly. 

Tilting over to my left, I lean into Aldis and dip my head into the firm arch of his shoulder blade, peppering his jaw in open mouth kisses; spots of saliva left behind after each one. 

He then grabs my left breast, his mouth swirling around the hardened nipple as my head tips back at the delicious sensation, quiet mewling tumbling past my lips. Tre follows suit with my other breast, tweaking and kneading before taking the nipple into his warm mouth. 

Hand gliding down Aldis’ lap, I stop at his girthy member, tracing over each thick vein while I softly run my hand over his nuts. Bringing my hand to my face, I spit in the palm and return it back to his length, this time stroking him with ease. 

Breathy moans follow, but it comes out muffled around my nipple and I take this chance to speed up in pace on both men, hoping to see their creamy finish. 

“Tell me how good this feels,” I whimpered. “Matter of fact, cum for me so I know it’s real.” 

Heated lips run along my skin, tongues leaving wet trails in their paths while hands get entangled with limbs and moans get engulfed into the noiseless night. My body feels hot with desire, eyelids fluttering closed, and mouth ajar, I couldn’t tell who was doing what but my movements never ceased; eager to bring my men over the edge. 

Their heavy breathing becomes more erratic, my cooing and encouragement having them spill onto me as my hands come to a slow stop and I lick each fist clean. 

Grabbing the back of my neck, Aldis pulls me in for a kiss, thumbs spreading my lips open to taste himself. Pulling away, I turn over to Tre and dive in for another round of tongue twisting, saliva trailing down our chins as we pull apart. 

“On all fours Y/N, you know wassup,” Aldi directed. 

“Yes sirrrr, Tre you on the bottom baby?” 

“I’m wherever you want me,” he winked. 

Lying down on his back, he helps position me on top of him, dick in hand as he watches me slowly slide down his length. A heavy gasp leaves us both at the heated feeling of being connected. After we adjust, he gives me a lazy smile, mouthing a quick I love you to which I eagerly return it.

“Ready for me angel?”

“Go for it Aldi.” 

“I’ll be your genie, Y/N, every fucking day if you let me,” he confides, smearing his cum between my ass. 

“Your every wish would be my command,” he continued, entering first with his finger. 

“You’re my beacon of light honey,” he insisted, adding in another digit. “In an otherwise bleak and cruel world.” 

“You both reassure me that all is not lost,” he chanted, driving his fingers into me, the pace deliciously unwavering. 

“Y’all have given me the joy to call you guys family,” he admitted, removing his fingers entirely. 

“But this ass? Oh this ass Y/N is what I can call home,” Aldis ended as he thrusted to the hilt. 

No matter how many times he’s entered my backdoor, I can never get used to his sheer size. He always knocks the wind out of me and I find myself planted face first into Tre’s chest, his hands cradling my jaws as I seep back into reality. Sweet nothings are whispered into my ear but it’s the driving force of their dicks that fully reels me into the present. 

“There she is,” Tre snickered. “I got you baby girl, don’t you worry.” 

I barely recognize the sounds coming from me, my words now indecipherable, cockdrunk and drooling as they tear me apart. Aldis wraps his hand around my throat, drawing me in to plaster my lips with sloppy kisses while Tre takes a hold of my waist to drive his dick further into me, my pussy stretched around his dick as his tongue explores the shape of my neck. 

My fingers are embedded into skin, whose I don’t know, but the crescent shaped marks will reveal it sooner or later. Tongue sliding against Aldis’ while Tre’s fingers dance every which way across my waist and thighs, I can’t help the howl that escapes me; grizzly bear be damned, my body feels worked over past its limits. 

The peak that I hit seems never ending, my soul paralyzed and heartbeat accelerating, while everything around me ceases to exist. I come down just in time enough to feel them splatter my walls simultaneously which elicits a minigasm of my own. 

Loud, labored panting is all that I hear. Rough, calloused hands is all that I feel. Navy blue sky littered with twinkling stars is the view that meets me and I must admit that camping isn’t so bad after all. 

[thlayli-ra]

A Sinner at Heart

AO3 Version Here

Characters - LA Knight, Nick Aldis

Pairing - LA Knight/Nick Aldis

AU - Valetverse (created by Syreina)

Rating - Mature (18+ only!)

Warnings - Valets and Dominants, Sub/Dom Undertones, Flirting, Male Slash, Stripping, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, No Prep, Sex for Favours

Words - ~4,500 words

Background Info - In a world where women no longer exist, society is split into two; dominants (the ruling class) and valets (who possess the 'inualidus chromosome' that allows them to bear children). Stripped of basic human rights, valets are expected to be entirely subservient to the dominants that claim them and few are prized higher than the valets of the WWE.

Summary - LA Knight knows exactly what he wants - and he's not afraid to stoop to one of his old tricks to get it!

For @stripeydani - Enjoy! 😘

     LA Knight was a valet on a mission. He knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how he was going to get it. 

     It just meant bending his newfound morals a little bit. Fall back on one of his old tricks. A well-tried-and-tested trick, it should be pointed out.

     Making his way through the backstage area, he strode up to Nick Aldis' office door and lingered there a second or two. This wasn't a time for barging in and making demands. Men like Aldis preferred things done a certain way, a professional way. Which was why he'd planned it all out in advance, down to the finest detail. 

     He'd called Aldis' PA to make the appointment days ago, early in the afternoon to avoid any undesirables butting in on his time and had made sure he arrived early. As temped as he'd been to strut in wearing only his gear, he'd opted for a more conservative look - his signature vest, yellow shirt (with the sleeves cut off, of course - he was going for modest here, not prudish!) and, to finish off the look, the tightest pair of jeans he owned. 

     The denim was practically creaking against his pert, round ass as he checked himself over one last time. Neatly trimmed hair and beard? Check! A thin dusting of baby oil on his exposed arms (just enough to make him glisten without looking like a walking GI Joe doll)? Check! And, most important of all, his sunglasses, to hide the greatest weapon in his arsenal, his big baby blues, until he needed to unleash them with a dramatic flourish.

     Check and double check!

     He was ready! And judging from the hands on his watch, he was right on time.

     He rapped his knuckles against the door and after a beat, a deep voice beckoned him inside. 

     'Mr Aldis?' Knight enquired politely as he stepped into the office, closing the door carefully behind him.

     The Smackdown general manager glanced up from his paperwork, looking as dashing as ever in his three-piece suit with his neatly coiffured hair and five o' clock shadow on his chin. 'Thought we already talked about this, Eli,' he said, getting up from his desk to offer his hand to the valet, showcasing his impressive size. Tall and broad, a classic dominant build. Knight liked them big. 'Call me Nick.'

     'And I thought we already talked about how it's LA now,' Knight replied with a cheeky grin, accepting the dominant's hand and giving it a firm shake. He wasn't offended by the mistake - the pair had known each other for years, from back when they'd both worked in the indies and went by different names. Sometimes, even Knight's own husband, Bobby Lashley, called him by his old moniker in bed, probably because his little infatuation with the boastful valet had started back then. But Knight didn't care; so long as it was his name he cried out as he came.

     The GM gave a small laugh. 'Of course, my apologies. Please, take a seat.' He motioned to the chair but Knight instead chose to perch himself on the edge of the GM's desk. Either the dominant didn't notice or didn't mind as he settled back into his desk chair. 'How can I help you today... LA?'

     The valet took note of the way Nick put emphasis on his name. It sent shivers down his spine. He'd always been a sucker for an accent. Scottish, especially. There was something extra filthy about his ex Drew's rugged intonation between the sheets. Same with Joe Hendry, one of the few valets he'd fooled around with, with his softer but no less robust dialect, the thought of which made him weak at the knees.

     But English... oh, he appreciated an English accent! Especially those that filled every word with bewitching charm. Like Lord Regal. Like Wade Barrett.

     Like Nick Aldis!

     'I think you already know why I'm here?' Knight said, smiling sweetly at the GM.

     Nick lowered his head with a sigh and tapped the butt of his fountain pen against his desk. 'If you're looking for Logan Paul then he's not here tonight.'

     'Well, well, what a surprise!' Knight scoffed. 'What's he doin' this time? Filming another stupid video? Tiring out some washed-up old-timer in the boxing ring? Losing to a four year old in the World Tiddlywinks Championships?' Nick looked away to hide the mirth on his face. 'You know, over on the red brand, they've got Sami Zayn defending that IC title week-in-and-week-out against some of the biggest, most dangerous dominants on the roster. Our Undisputed Champion, Cody Rhodes, is here for every taping and every live show and every PLE and all the press in between.'

     Nick gave a nod, seeing Knight's point. Because for once, he had a point! Now, he only had to add himself into the equation.

     'And you've got a guy like me turning up, putting my body on the line, practically breaking myself in half on ladders then showing up for work on Friday. Doesn't matter that I'm all banged up, doesn't matter I've got bruises on my pretty face, I'm here. Not swaggering in whenever I damn well feel like it, like our so-called 'US Champion'. You ask me, he's more a BS Champion.'

     'Clever,' Nick teased. 'How long did it take you to come up with that one?'

     'Rolled off my tongue right now as a matter of fact,' Knight replied, smugly. The GM was taking the bait nicely but Knight was in no rush to hook him in just yet. Where was the fun in that?  'Look, I've already chased this dummy around the block, even went as far as going to his damn house and enjoyed a little dip in his pool-'

     'Yes, and we spoke about that,' Nick cut in, his tone a warning for the valet.

     'Well if I can't go knocking on his door again then what must I do to get this dummy in the ring? I've been in Elimination Chambers and King of the Ring tournaments and Money in the Bank matches, I beat AJ Styles one-two-three at Wrestlemania, hell, I've gone toe-to-toe with the Head of the Table himself, Roman Reigns and came within a whisker of becoming the Undisputed WWE Champion so what else?' 

     Knight shuffled around the desk until he was sat on Nick's side, directly facing the dominant who was reclining back in his desk chair. Without a hint of subtlety, the GM's eyes travelled down to ogle Knight between his open legs, his generous bulge straining against the tight denim. That's it. Have a good look. You play your cards right you might even get more intimately acquainted.

     'You want me to go out there tonight and have another triple threat match for the number one contendership? Then fine, if you all need me to prove myself again, I've got my gear with me. Just let me go put on my boots and trunks and I'll-

     'Will you be wearing anything under those little red trunks of yours this time?' Nick's eyes sparkled cheekily up at the valet, who couldn't help but cough out a hearty laugh, a wide grin breaking his lips.

     Oh, this is just too damn easy! 

     Leaning closer, Knight peeked over the rim of his sunglasses. 'You saw that, huh?'

     'Everybody saw it!' Nick quirked his eyebrows.

     'Did you like it?' The grin travelled up Knight's cheek. 'Like how baby-smooth I keep myself down there?'

     Nick said nothing but kept his mischievous eyes on the valet.

     'Hey, you're in charge. You wanna see me rolled up like a pretzel while my opponent get all handsy with my smalls, you just gotta make the call.'

     Nick cleared his throat and sat up straight, pretending to get back to work. 'Friendly reminder that this is a family show LA, so keep the family jewels covered up in the future.'

     'Sure thing,' Knight said. He wasn't fooled by the sudden lack of interest; the dominant just wanted to remind Knight that he was the one in charge here. And hey, if he needed his ego massaged, then Knight was more than happy to oil up his hands. 'Is this appropriate enough, Boss?'

     'Is what appropriate enough?' Nick asked, scribbling away on his paperwork. 

     'What I'm wearing right now?' Knight nudged his knee in closer towards the GM, encroaching on the form he was trying to fill. The question hung in the air. The hand holding the fountain pen stopped, frozen in space.

     But Knight could see Nick's eyes lingering on his beefy thigh, admiring every curve and groove. The valet stayed silent and waited, letting the mouse make the next move.

     Slowly, Nick's hand slinked its way across the desktop towards the offending limb. Scaling the hard face of his knee, the hand smoothed its way up and up, fingers splayed, eventually coming to halt at the peak of Knight's inner thigh, his pinkie finger wedging itself into the groove at his pelvis to nuzzle against his bulge. The valet took in a small, shuddering gasp. A beautifully executed piece of acting that worked perfectly to please the GM.

     'Lashley-'

     'We have an agreement. He can keep this wild mare but he can't tame me. I've got to run free.'

     Nick wasn't looking at him. Both his eyes and hands were too occupied with the prize waiting for them between the valet's legs.

     'What is it you're wanting here, exactly LA?'

     'A shot at the US title,' Knight said with ease, 'at Summerslam.' 

     The dominant gave a nod of his head, considering the demand. 'Go lock the door.'

     Knight twisted around to spy the office door, taking the opportunity to push out his chest and shoulders. 'Already got it on my way in.'

     Nick huffed a laugh. 'You were rather sure of getting your own way, weren't you?'

     'I always do,' the valet tilted his chin back, arrogantly.

     'Take your shirt off!'

     'Yes, Boss.'

     Shucking off his vest and muscle tee, Knight tossed them to the floor by which time, Nick had put down his pen and pushed back his desk-chair. Hooking a hand under each of Knight's thighs, he coaxed the valet down onto his lap and admired the tanned, chiselled muscle on display. Stroking a hand over one Herculean pec and up his collarbone, he  smoothed along a broad shoulder then up the side of the valet's strong neck, teasing Knight's bearded cheek with the back of his fingers. A fingertip caught the bridge of Knight's sunglasses and eased them down his nose slightly, revealing the pretty blues underneath.

     'Want them off, Boss?' Knight asked.

     'No.'

     The hand grabbed Knight's bristled chin and pulled him close, locking their lips together. Their tongues sloppily clashed, swirling around to explore the deepest crevices of each other's mouths, all while Nick kept a firm grip on Knight's jaw. 

     Even when they finally pulled back for a breath, each man's chests starting to heave a little heavier, that strong hand refused to let go. Ensuring that those slivers of sea breeze watched the GM as his other hand went to his throat to loosen the knot of his tie and undo the top button of his shirt. Knight drew in his bottom lip, following the hand as it trailed down to unfasten the buttons of Nick's waistcoat next, lightly pushing the fine fabric apart. The hand on his chin angled down, leading its captive audience to witness the dominant unbuckling his leather belt.

     But there, the game stopped. 

     Knight realised it was his turn. 

     He moved his hands towards Nick's waist and unfastened the final button and zipper on his suit pants, digging one hand in to release the GM's dick, already semi-hard and keen. The thumb on Knight's chin stroked back and forth tantalisingly.

     'Well...?' Nick asked, cocking an eyebrow at the valet.

     'I think I can help with that, Boss.' One hand wrapped around the dominant's shaft, the other coerced his legs apart so that he could slip down between them. Once positioned on his knees, Knight shuffled in close, rolling his tongue over his lips to moisten him. Right before he took it into his mouth, he pumped his hand up the entire length, squeezing right at the tip until the blood pooled and turned the skin a delicious dark red.

     Nick growled when the valet engulfed the entire head into his mouth in one gulp, craning his neck back in the early throes of pleasure when lips tightened around the sensitive skin and began to suck. Knight's soft, wet tongue entered the fray, slurping up the underside of his cock, teasing the bump where his foreskin crinkled against his shaft. 

     'Hmmph!' the dominant's fist flew up to his mouth but didn't stifle the grunt in time, as Knight's tongue swirled around his cock head. The cheeky tip honed in on the eye, drawing circles around it before attacking, boring its way in. The GM's chin shot up, lips pulling back in a barely controlled snarl. 

     From down below, Knight gazed up over the rim of his sunglasses, eyes sparkling with wickedness. Man, oh man, did he enjoy watching these big, brutish men fall apart like a cheap condom under his power. And he'd barely even touched the guy yet. While he continued teasing the head, he used one free hand to stroke up and down the barrel in slow, tight motions while the other fondled his balls, each sensation hitting a sweet spot for the GM as evidenced by the swelling implement between Knight's hollow cheeks.

     Pumping his fist all the way to the base, the valet went for seconds, swallowing more of the dominant down. In his peripheral vision, he could see both sets of Nick's fingernails digging into the leather arms of his desk-chair and felt a pang of indignation that he was not the recipient of those talons. Claw my shoulders, claw my back, grab me by my hair! Come on, you're a dominant. Live up to it!

     He retaliated by sucking. Hard and slow. Taking in more and more until he could feel it prod the back of his throat. Fortunately by now, Knight was a master of his gag reflex and opened his throat up to welcome the rest of the dominant in, guzzling him down until his nose nestled in the course brown hair at the base of his dick.

     He looked up again. Nick was looking right at him. Mouth agape, cheeks flushed, a bead of sweat started to slide down his glistening brow. Whose game is it now? Knight inwardly chuckled, as he gazed up over his sunglasses which were pressed tight into the crook of Nick's thighs, poking into the soft flesh on either side while his blue eyes shimmered with all the wonder of a disciple admiring their saint.

     Knight gave a wink. And hummed.

     Nick tossed his head back, a deep, throaty whine spitting through his gritted teeth. 

     Knight kept moving, pulling back to let the rock solid cock slip from his mouth then ramming it back in again, all while his fingers kneaded Nick's balls and his sunglasses prodded into his inner thigh. Each thrust and pull and squeeze and prong released a barrage of fresh curses and indecipherable noises from the GM's lips. His fingernails started to shred through the leather on the arms of his chair.

     The jealousy became too much and Knight grabbed one of the offending hands and clamped it down on his head, hissing when they twisted into his dark curls harshly. A pleasant sting. The dominant's other hand moved on its own accord to snake around the back of Knight's head, brushing back and forth along the feathery bristles where he had newly shorn it. 

     The pressure in Knight's mouth was becoming too much. The GM was about to burst his load any second, disappointing the valet who was having far too much fun. 

     Fortunately, the dominant had other plans. The hand in Knight's hair gripped tightly, yanking him back and eventually off of his painfully throbbing dick with a loud, wet pop. The valet's wet chin was grabbed again and jerked skyward, two pairs of glazed eyes tried to focus on one another through the haze.

     'No...' the Englishman slurred out breathlessly. 'Up.'

     Knight's legs were weak, wobbling at the knees but he managed to struggle up to his feet. Desperate fingers pawed at the waistband of his super tight jeans, practically tearing the denim off of his thick thighs. 

     Nick hitched a breath, spying the special treat Knight had hidden for him under his pants.

     He wasn't wearing any underwear!

     'Oops! Guess I didn't learn my lesson from last time, Boss,' he said coyly, thrusting his hips forward to emphasise the meaty appendage between his legs, already a deep pink and starting to swell. Dipping his head, Knight peeked over the rim of his sunglasses, feigning all the innocence of a young valet on his claiming night. 'You gonna punish me?' 

     The loaded question hung in the air, charging the atmosphere.

     Until Nick answered with a growl. Snaring the valet in his mighty grip, he dragged him back onto his lap. Lathering up his fingers with the mess of pre-cum and spit from his cock, he slid them under Knight when the valet interrupted him.

     'Only good boys get prepped,' he smirked, 'and I aint a good boy.'

     The GM stared viciously at the valet, heaving breaths whistling through his teeth. 'No. I suppose you're not!'

     The fingers quickly forgot their mission and instead latched onto Knight's flanks, smearing their mess onto his hip. Together, they lifted the valet up until his dry hole lined with Nick's sopping wet dick. Knight pushed down hard, trying to break the seal quickly. He was certain he'd lubricated the GM enough for it to slip right in but it still met plenty of resistance, making him wince loudly at the burn, feeling every inch as it widened him up.

     But damn! Did it feel good! 

     Bobby never fucked him raw. Said it was for the valet's own welfare, (although really, it was probably because the dominant didn't feel comfortable doing it) but there was something about the intensity and the pain that made it all seem so... nasty! Like he was committing a cardinal sin. 

     He may have been a changed man now, on a mission of redemption to alter his selfish ways and make amends for every wrong he had caused in the past. Yet, underneath all that self-improvement and character reform...

     ... he was still a sinner at heart!

     Nick began to buck his hips and thrust in deeper, grinning like a jackal at every sweet whimper it tore from the valet's throat. 'Is that punishment enough?' he asked right before punching his way in rougher, keeping an iron grip on Knight's hips so that he couldn't pull away as he drove himself in right to the hilt.

     Knight gritted his teeth at the sting before letting out an obnoxious scoff. 'Don't think I've learnt my lesson yet, Boss.' 

     'Well, we can't have that now, can we?'

     The thrusting turned more rhythmic, pumping more than thrusting and now that Knight was acclimatising, he started to relax. Pushing back against the dominant's hips, his eyes rolled into the back of his head whenever he felt Nick's cock hitting his g-spot, grinding against that large bundle of nerves that spat out sparks of ecstasy at every touch. His lower jaw went limp and he began to moan and groan with growing pleasure.

     'Enjoying yourself?'

     'How can you tell?' Knight could barely open his heavy eyes, squeezing himself as close as he could against Nick's hot groin.

     'You're being very noisy,' Nick said, in that same professional manner he used for contract briefings, only a little breathier than usual. 'I knew you were loud in the ring but didn't realise it was this bad out of it.'

     'Afraid someone might hear?' Knight smirked. The GM answered with a stern look. 'Hey, you wanna shut me up, you know how.'

     Nick grabbed Knight by the back of his head and smashed their mouths together. Knight's sunglasses clanked as the bridge of their noses collided. Clamping his lips over Knight's loudmouth, he gagged him with his tongue, shoving it in between his teeth, stifling the needy groan that thrummed from the valet's throat. 

     As their mouths tangled above, their hips merged below, working together in perfect harmony to wring every ounce of pleasure from them both. Knight had completely opened up, the thin lube of his earlier spit adding some ease to the motion. Nick kept hitting that marvellous piece of him deep inside but every sound Knight made was muffled by his boss' lips. 

     Soon, even the GM began to break his own rules. Ravaged noises rumbled from his own throat. If Knight could smile through the intense kissing, he would be beaming from ear-to-ear. The pace picked up, getting frantic. He struggled to keep up, his thighs throbbing as he bounced up and down on Nick's lap. The kissing degenerated into open mouth panting, both men's breaths fogging the other's cheek. Sparkles of bright colours like fireworks began to burst behind Knight's closed eyes. 

     Nick came first, spilling his seed, wet and hot inside of the valet. The feel of it oozing down his back passage, and the strangled snarl that accompanied it, was enough to spiral Knight into his own climax. He only had a chance to yelp for a second before his mouth was covered again, every one of his unchecked wails smothered by the GM's lips sealed against his own.

     Only once he'd finally finished, did Nick let him go, tugging on his swollen, deep-pink lips with his teeth before slumping back into his desk chair and swallowing air down like a starved waif.

     From up above, Knight was a wretched, crumpled shade of the 'modest' valet he'd walked in as. Clothes gone, hair dishevelled, his sunglasses slanted lop-sided on the bridge of his nose. His hazy blue eyes never wavered from the GM, bushy brows high as his shoulders rose and fell.

     'Well...?' he uttered, mirroring Nick's earlier question.

     The GM creaked open one glazed eye and cleared his throat. Sitting back up, he reached around the valet for a tissue from the box on his desk and nonchalantly wiped at the mess left from Knight's orgasm on his pants and shirt. Without asking, Knight grabbed a tissue for himself but it was swiftly snatched away by Nick who then used it to tenderly clean the valet's cock. 'I think I can help you with that.'

     'With my dick or with my US Title match?'

     Nick said nothing, only continued to mop up his temporary lover between the legs until he was satisfied. Finally looking up to catch the curious blue eyes staring back at him, he reached over to right his wonky sunglasses. 'Come back here after the show starts. I will have one of the guys type up a contract for you and leave it on my desk for you to pick up.' 

     'Sounds good,' Knight nodded with approval. 'Will it have Logan Dumbass' signature on it too?'

     'That,' Nick pushed the valet's sunglasses back up to the top of his nose with his index finger, 'is your mission.'

     Knight drew in a breath. Mulling it over. 

     'Leave it with me.'

     'You're the man for the job.' Pulling a comb from his inside pocket, Nick ran it through Knight's slightly damp curls, teasing them back off his sweaty forehead. Once he was satisfied that he'd smartened the valet enough, he grasped him by the chin, gentler than before and pulled him in for a parting kiss. 'The words you're looking for, by the way, are 'thank' and 'you'.'

     'Right back at ya!' Knight parried.

     Nick smiled softly, pecking the valet on the lips. 'Thank you.'

     'And thank you, Boss.' He tipped his head to the side cheekily. 'Will you be here later when I come to pick it up?'

     'Unfortunately not,' Nick replied, smoothing his hands over the valet's naked thighs and down his muscular chest, 'but you can knock on my door any time.'

     As promised, when Knight popped into Nick's office after Smackdown started, he found a contract for a US title match against Logan Paul at Summerslam waiting for him. He decided to waste no time and searched for a pen, grinning filthily as he picked up the fountain pen he'd made Nick abandon earlier, and signed his name on the dotted line. Now, he just needed to get the other. 

     He would think of a way. He always got what he wanted. Always!

     Heading back outside, he found a slew of others waiting in line to see Nick, among them those two vain buffoons, Pretty Deadly. 'Hey dummies, he aint here!' he informed them then walked away before the carnage hit. Striding down the hallway, he admired his prize while Bobby's voice echoed between his ears.

     'Just... don't do anything stupid when I'm not there, like, I dunno, sleep with the boss.'

     Knight was sure he meant Hunter though. Pretty sure...

     Instead, he focused on the contract in his hand, almost feeling something radioactive emitting from it. Something exciting! He deserved this, he had earned it, with his blood, his tears and his sweat - a whole lot of sweat! And come Summerslam, he would have his hand raised and that gold around his waist then there would be no more doubt who's game this is, with everybody saying-

     The lights flickered.

     Knight looked up but by the time his wide blue eyes found the light source it had returned to normal. He let out a stuttered breath, balling his fist up tight.

     'Yeah, thought I'd be seeing you,' he snarled under his breath, glancing around him for any other tell-tale signs. 'Knew as soon as I saw that mess you made on Raw that you'd be showing your ugly, rubber face over here.' Nothing. Everybody was going about their business, as if they hadn't noticed. 

     'Well, here's the deal, Howdy,' Knight went on. 'I don't give a damn if you're back. I don't give a damn if you've got a bunch of cross-eyed halfwits running around in masks doing your bidding. I aint never gonna belong to you again. You come gunning for me, you ain't tangling with the same guy you were before. I'm ready for you, and I'm gonna do what I should have done the last time you tried to lock me in your damn cage.

     'I'm gonna put you down. For good!

     'But, for now,' he gazed lovingly at his contract, 'I've got bigger fish to fry. YEAH!'

[laura-simm1235]

The Fine Print by stupendium is so vex Scar and Cub coded omg

[sheigarche]

All right, Hellblade Actors AU when? 👀

[calamity-calliope]

The Baptism of Moffett

(Or, what happened to Enoch when the light came.)

...

Enoch Moffett perked up as the lock on the door clicked. His head still hurt from where he had been struck, and because of his disorientation his night vision had not settled in. Still, he had the space of mind to reach for one of his guns. His fingers wrapped around the polished wooden grip as he pulled it from its oiled holster, that practiced hand of his holding it cautiously out in front of him.

All of a sudden, the door cracked open. A single hand made a brief appearance, to toss something into the room. Moffett instinctively raised his gun, but the door was closed as quickly as it was opened, and he was in the dark once again. He stood from his crouched position with a grunt, internally cursing his missed opportunity. As he reached up to rub the back of his head again, the entire room exploded with light.

The suddenness off it caused him to gasp, and his eyes widened in fear. He fell backwards, reaching an arm up to shield his face, but already his vision was compromised. The only thing he could see was brilliant gold.

His mindspace was buzzing. Memories faded in and out of existence. New thoughts filled his head. Thoughts that weren't his...

Who are you?

Moffett, Enoch Moffett.

How far you have come to a place you were never meant to be.

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.

Who are you?

I am one of Mosby's Men.

I remember a soldier, a soldier of the night.

As glides is seas the shark / Rides Mosby through green dark.

You were dangerous.

But Mosby's Men are there. / Of Mosby best beware.

And yet you have been so very lonely.

They are all dead, they are all dead.

Who?

Everyone. I miss them so.

I remember years in the desert.

I was far from my home.

And yet you thrived. Is your place not in the sun?

My place is wherever I am needed.

You are needed here.

Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!

My brother is who needs me.

I remember burying a brother.

Gar schöne Spiele spiel' ich mit dir;

He is dead, but I am going to avenge him.

Let us be your knife.

Manch' bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand

Us?

I, you, we, the children of Light.

Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand.

And what if I refuse?

Then it will all have been for nothing.

All for the want of a horseshoe nail.

He sat up in the dark room, aware. Things had changed. No longer was there blackness around him. Gold had settled over his vision and the world seemed brilliant and glorious. There was a feeling of reassurance in his gut, a calming presence within him. No longer did the situation feel uneasy or wrong. He was assured of it.

He turned his head as again the door opened, a solitary figure standing silhouetted by the light of the hall beyond. He doffed his hat, and smiled. "Good morning."

[geekynightowl1997]

Oh, don't mind me- I'm just trying to build a story about how when Parker was the master mind and Eliot was running ragged to help him relax (and sleep/doze,) she'd play with his hair. Eliot's sitting on the floor with his head on her lap and hair fanned over her jeans. All the while Hardison is sitting beside Parker playing computer games, his knee pressed against Eliot's shoulder.

Eliot's humming/purring and Hardison is slowly falling asleep and leaning closer, until eventually Hardison's head is on Parker's shoulder. And Parker is happy and content because she's safe and her boys are happy...

Is this sappy? Ridiculous? Has this been done before?

*sigh*

Maybe I won't write it...

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2023 Day 29: Contravention

Those weren’t her eyes that she opened.

It wasn’t her hand she raised to study. Not her body in the chair. Not her ears listening to Fandaniel’s capering explanation as something he claimed was Varis roared in another room.

It was her body in the chair, slumped lifelessly. If she could reach it, all would be right again, but Zenos was there—

That was not her face looking up at her. Not her smile. Not her eyes. Not once he took control.

She screamed.

—

Not her fingers numb and clumsy around the sword hilt. She knew how to fight with a longsword and shield, had practiced for bells. The body did too, she could feel the muscle memory wanting to respond, but it was sluggish, was stiff, was wrong…

As she desperately tried to defend against oncoming frenzied tempered, she randomly recalled the fight against the Alacran in the Quicksand long ago, Aldis calling instruction and advice, setting the example as his blade flashed. She recalled how it seemed to get easier and easier, once she fell into the rhythm Mylla had taught her, that Aldis repeated.

She pretended he was there now, laughing and cheering, giving those same instructions again, reminding her how to place the feet, when to swing from the shoulder, when to just use the wrist.

By the time she found the survivors trying to defend themselves from the tempered, the body was responding with remembered confidence, her control more certain. She could do this; she could use this form, chase after Zenos, save her friends—

—

Everything hurt.

Pain exploded through the body as she tried to make it move. It couldn’t stand. The stench of burnt ceruleum and charred flesh filled its nose, made it want to retch.

If she was herself, she could channel healing magics, could get to her feet and keep going…

If she was herself, she wouldn’t be crawling forward like this. Tears stung and filled the eyes, and she briefly wondered what color they were.

Zenos was in her body, and had to be halfway to camp by now. He wouldn’t fool them for long, but long enough to hurt, long enough to kill…

She kept dragging forward, letting the body weep from her frustration and fear, sobbing, the release fueling her motions, building her anger.

By some miracle, she found one of the medkits, its magic potions intact.

—

It was not her voice screaming at Zenos.

Not her body she slammed into her own, to stop him from hurting her friends.

He had so much more control over her form than she had on this one—how often had he violated the laws of nature to do this?

Didn’t matter. She didn’t care. What mattered was stopping him and getting herself back.

Was that him or her crouching before her dazed and useless form? She seemed to see both as vision swam.

Gods, she needed to shut Fandaniel up sooner rather than later.

—

As the others got ready to assault the Tower of Babil, she slipped away from concerned friends and into the room where they had put the body.

He had been a young Garlean man, utterly average. Brown hair. Tan skin. Bluish eyes, perhaps; hard to tell through the film of death. Were the gray hairs frosting his hair natural, or caused by his murder and subsequent abuse of his corpse? His third eye seemed deflated somehow, the keratin cracked and dulled. His body was oddly well preserved, though mottled with bruising and burns and cuts that could never heal, a precise sword slice that indicated how he had died. A soldier’s lifetime of scars underlay those more recent wounds.

Who had he been? What had he done? Why this body? Had Zenos found him alive? The original killing blow suggested it. There was nothing in the gear the body had worn to indicate who he had been.

“Whatever crimes you committed in life, your remains deserved better than this,” she whispered, covering the corpse again.

She turned to leave, and found herself confronted with a mirror.

Her face, reacting. Her hands, reaching forward to touch the pane. Her tears, falling over her cheeks. Her voice as she sobbed. Her knees gave way and hurt when she fell to them, shaking and crying. Her forehead leaned against the mirror. Her arms hugged herself.

[tarmac-rat]

WIP W/E but we're doing Sunday today

I've got a tag backlog of like 5 of these lmao so @ghostoffuturespast thank you for tagging me and waiting like 3 months before I had time lol 💜

Extra long one because hell I haven't shared anything in like 3 months and I wanted to assure everyone that I am in fact not dead.

From Rain in the Desert chapter 18. Mikoshi Chapter. Top 10 Conversations Held Right Before Disaster:

Whether she expected that to be met with laughter or annoyance, it hardly matters, because all Johnny gives her is one sagely nod. “Like I said, got all the time in the world now. Should think about what I told you last night, if you want a place to start, at least.” “Find my mom?” “Leave the city. Not just because you should and you’re too stubborn to see it yet— lotta heat’s gonna fall on you once this is all over. They’ll swarm your apartment, knock on some of your friends’ doors and give ‘em a shakedown, all the works. Sometimes, the best way to keep the people who care about you safe is to smash your holo with a hammer and fuck off into the desert for a couple years.” “Even without you in my head, I’m still finding ways to run through all your greatest hits.” “Say it like that’s a bad thing.” “No comment. And you, though? You come up with a plan yet?”

“Workin’ on it. Think it over for a bit, weigh some pros and cons, see if I like what I come up with. I'll burn that bridge when I get there.” “Just be careful.” “Always am, kid, but thanks for the pep talk.” “Will I ever see you again?” The words slip from her without thought. It’s like the one she asked on that overlook behind Westbrook, or in that booth inside the Afterlife, or shin-deep in the waves of the Pacific. A question born of pure, pathetic desperation— of a need for him to verify something in herself that she can’t even begin to explain. Because when the wall between them came crumbling down, there was no going back, all of her awful thoughts became his and all of his terrible dreams became hers. But now it’s been built back up and she’s left pounding on the bricks, screaming out for an answer that will never ever come. It doesn’t have to be loud, or resolute, or even honest. If she can just hear his voice join her own through all the miles between them, then could be she can find it in herself to live with that. Just something, a single word. Anything to prove that she isn’t on her own in this. But rather than give her that, the corners of Johnny’s mouth slowly draw up into a toothy smile. “Is that fondness I hear in your voice, princess?” he teases. It’s right around there V learns that code can, in no uncertain terms, flush, “Shut up.” “Sayin’ you’re actually gonna miss havin’ my shitty little thoughts ringin’ ‘round up in your head?”  “Shut up. Johnny.” The look he throws her at that almost makes V wish that Alt would come back and Soulkill her all over again, “Always thought you wore sentimentality like a pair of shackles and a straitjacket, but this is somethin’ else. You mean I might actually see you shed a few tears when Alt starts cartin’ me off?” “Jesus, forget I said anything. Ask a genuine question and I end up getting grilled for it like I’m on some shitty daytime talk show,” V grits out, hand against her brow in an effort to shield her burning face, “Wanna toss jokes about me being ‘sentimental’, y’know, but here you are not even taking a lick of this seriously when I’m trying to be on the level. You want to know what you’ll actually see when you go, Johnny? How about me flipping you one last bird for the road, since apparently your gonk ass can’t bear to not make light about this shit for five fucking minutes.” “...I’ll miss your shitty little thoughts too, if it means anythin’.” V glances up. Johnny hadn’t been looking at her anymore but as if sensing it return, his gaze does rise to tangle up in hers again. His body betrays nothing, almost; she doesn’t miss the way his fingers have curled in tight around his latest cigarette, metal knuckles rasping some discordant song against the tabletop. And maybe that’s the thing she’d forgotten about being human. That words are incoherent things, and so rarely do they mean what we want them to. Well, when you’re stuck there pounding on a wall, what better way to say that you’re not alone in this than to pound back? “This won’t be the end, though, right?” the chain around V’s neck tightens; she’s got the pendant and dog tags locked in a visegrip again, “I mean, if I manage to find my way back to the Blackwall again, maybe Alt can…I don’t know, carry a message over? Let me through from time to time?” Johnny’s smile is small, and restrained, and probably speaks to something they both know can never really be, but for a moment, maybe pretending that it could can somehow be enough; “We’ll work somethin’ out, princess.” 

If or when I have a new WIP to share, I'll probably do a WIP share tag then! But thank you again to everyone who's tagged me over the past couple of months!

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

FFXIV Write: Free Day

After the events of 7.0, Agi embarks on another adventure---visiting the island her birth parents came from. SFW.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of someone who can give me information on my birth parents.”

It was a sentence the Warrior of Light never thought she would utter.

And yet, here’s me and Agi on this bloody little island halfway between Limsa and Sharlayan, looking for anyone who knew Kay Aldis and Brant Longsong.

The young highlander gentleman at the dock grinned. “You’ll be wantin’ to speak to Kireon at the pub. The Glistening Mermaid, over there. You can’t miss it.”

Good gods, that lad talks fast. The Glistening Mermaid. Over there. Can’t miss it.

Agnes smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much, ser. Have a lovely day.” She laced her fingers through her husband’s and squeezed his hand. She’s nervous. The children are with Luci. Agi only wanted me with her for this little mission we’re on. “Kireon.” She muttered under her breath. “How do you do, Master Kireon? My name is—”

He squeezed her hand as they approached The Glistening Mermaid. “Agi, you’re going to do great. Be calm, my love.”

Ever since the contest and its aftermath in Tural, Agi felt herself wondering about her birth parents more…and trying to find where they came from. That bloody receptionist…I mean, Tataru, offered her “services” and against my advice, Agi went with Tataru to the orphanage where she was born and was given her original birth certificate.

With the name of an island for Kay Aldis’s birthplace.

And after speaking to that lalafell pirate who was mates with her birth father, we confirmed it’s where they’re from.

But then Agi felt guilty. She cried. A lot. Luci cried. A lot.

“Agi, just go!”

That’s what ended it. Thanks Luci.

And now we’re here…

His wife took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before she opened the door to the pub. Nice pub. Clean.

There was a young woman behind the bar who smiled at the couple. “Good afternoon! I’m Jana. What can I do you for?”

Agnes swallowed nervously. “My name is Agnes Varlineau, and I was told there was a Kireon I could speak to. He might have information about my birth parents, who were apparently from here.”

Jana raised an eyebrow. “Their names?”

“Brant Longsong and Kay Aldis. Granted, they left here well over thirty summers ago—”

There was a sudden clatter from the kitchen.

Oh.

So perhaps this Kireon did know them.

“Did you say Kay Aldis and Brant Longsong?” An older highlander man came barreling out of the kitchen. He slowly walked towards the couple and held out his hand. “I’m Kireon Aldis, Kay’s pa.”

Halone’s big fat frozen tits.

The Warrior of Light’s mouth hung open and keeps opening and closing like a fish. “I…I…It’s very nice to meet you, Master Kireon.” She finally managed to say breathlessly, shaking his hand.

Then the older highlander pulled her into a hug and began to sob.

Agi being Agi, she hugged him right back and is comforting him.

A few moments later, Kireon pulled away and wiped his brown like Agi’s eyes. “Sorry, sorry. I never in a million years would’ve…” He smiled and gestured towards Agnes. “Navigator take me, you look just like them.” His eyes then widened. “Shittin’ hells, please sit! Sit! Do you need anything to drink? Eat? Anything at all?” Kireon rushed to pull chairs out for the couple. “Anything?”

After assuring Kireon Aldis that they did not, in fact, need anything, the three sat down. Let them talk and figure things out.

Agnes smiled. “I’m not sure where to start. I’m assuming you know that Brant and Kay are long dead.”

“I assumed so after all this time.” He explained. “Kay’s ma passed when she was a babe, and I…” Kireon closed his eyes and took a breath. “I was drinkin’ then. Not now, but then I was a mess. Mrs. Agi, Brant’s gran, took her in when she was six.” MRS. AGI!?!?!? ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!?!? “Said I could visit, which I did regularly, but I wasn’t…I wasn’t a good pa to her.” When he opened his eyes, he shook his head. “I regret many things. That’s at the top of the list.”

Agnes listened thoughtfully and nodded. “So, she and Brant grew up together?”

Kireon hummed. “Aye. Sweethearts they were. I remember when Kay told me they were leavin’ for Limsa. ‘We’re goin’ to make something of ourselves, Pa. You’ll see.’ I told her…I told they could always come back. No shame in it. But a part of me knew they wouldn’t. Not with Mrs. Agi gone.”

“She passed before they left?”

“Yes. Old age.” Brown eyes met brown eyes. “How’d they die?”

Shit.

With all the kindness of a healer who’s had to do this too many times, Agnes calmly and gracefully explained the deaths of her birth parents to Kireon. Horrible ways to go for both---Brant tempered by Leviathan and mercy killed by his own crewmates; Kay dying from blood loss during childbirth. I pray they’re at peace.

“And you?” the older man whispered to Agnes. “You said you were born at an orphanage?”

She blinked. “Yes. Yes, I was. When I was two and a half moons old, I was adopted by my parents and grew up in Costa del Sol in eastern La Noscea.”

That seemed to please the older man as he smiled. “Good. Folks here are close to the sea and respect it.” He glanced at Estinien. “And you’re her husband?”

“Aye.”

This is about him and Agi, not me.

Agnes reached under the table to take Estinien’s hand. “Let’s see…I grew up in La Noscea and then when I was eleven, I began my training with the Conjurers Guild…”

Estinien Varlineau was not shocked that he, his wife, and my grandfather-in-law chatted for bells. He was shocked when she asked where Agnes Longsong was buried. When we walked to her grave, she told me to wait.

“I need to do this myself, love.”

And so he waited, smiling softly at his wife paying respects to her namesake.

From one Mrs. Agi to another.

[aria-ashryver]

ok im outsourcing my question bc last time i tried to check a fact i rabbitholed myself on wikipedia for ten years:

‘I could always duck out to [a green grocer that you'd find in a small town like Crimson Beech that sells fresh vegetables like red chillis. Teensy bit bougie bc Gabe is shopping there lol] and grab another one, I guess,’ he mused. ‘Nah, they won’t be open,’ Cas replied, not looking up from the laptop. ‘They’re usually closed on Thanksgiving.’

@ any folks in America - help a girl out w store names?

[bluenotemagpie]

tfw you listen to a song for the first time and your brain goes "great. let's listen to this fifteen times over the next 24 hours" for no reason that you can discern

[sentofight]

ooc. let's hope the new atelier game which is on phone is good. i need a good alchemy game in my life.

[molochka-koshka]

For Aldis and Ulbrig: ♢: Forehead or cheek kisses

Combining this with @cassynite's ask!

Words: 536 Pairing: Knight Commander Aldis x Ulbrig Olesk CW: None!

“You’re dozing off little witch,” Ulbrig hums, rough fingers slipping through Aldis’s hair with a charming delicacy that the casual observer would find out of place coming from a man of his size and strength.

“Mm?” Aldis responds drowsily, blinking up at him.  

They’re on the thick, plush rug on the floor of their home in Gundrun, a fire crackling in the hearth, the smell of the stew Ulbrig had made permeating the air along with the smell of the bread that Aldis had tried to bake.  The slightly older human grins down at her, smile warm and inviting, almost like he wants Aldis to fall asleep again.  She shifts, pushing a pillow out from beneath her shoulder, raising her head up off of Ulbrig’s lap.

“You fell asleep,” he repeats, releasing his light hold on her hair.  He lowers his hand, caressing her cheek then coming to rest on her chin, tilting her head up so that their eyes meet.  “You were talking.”

“Oh Desna, no,” Aldis breathes out quickly, sitting bolt upright.  “You’re kidding, what did I say?”

“You were complaining, mostly,” the bear of a man laughs (or would he be a griffon of a man, Aldis wonders).  “You’re cold.  I wanted to get you a blanket, but I couldn’t stand the thought of waking you.  Until now, I mean,” he adds almost apologetically–almost.

“Oh? Had a change of heart then?”

“I can’t let you get too much beauty sleep darling, you’re bewitching enough without it.”

Aldis smiles, leans in and tilts her head up, presses her lips to Ulbrig’s lightly, briefly.  A soft laugh rises in his chest as he pulls her into his arms, moving her so that her smaller body rests neatly on his lap.  He leans in as well, kissing her forehead–the closest part of her face to him.  Aldis breathes a soft ‘mm’ before leaning in again and resting her head on his chest.  The steady thump of his heart beneath his chest (soft and warm and firm all at once) comforts her, draws her in closer to his warmth, his comfort.

Ulbrig squeezes her lightly in his arms.  It’s such a small action, but it’s one that Aldis has grown to love.  Not quite a hug, mostly just a tension in his body when he holds her like this, but not so dissimilar either.  Aldis relaxes, her own body losing any tension she’d been inadvertently holding, as Ulbrig lifts her into his arms and stands, carrying her to their bed.  He tucks a feather into her hair (and where had he gotten that, she wonders, she’s usually on top of keeping feathers out of the house for him), and rests a hand on her shoulder for a moment.

“Rest.  You could stand to be less of a pesky little oglin about it though,” he murmurs slyly, pulling their blanket up over her–which she proceeds to greedily tuck around her, cocooning herself in the burgundy wool.

“But I enjoy being a pesky little oglin about everything,” she pouts back playfully.

“Well complain less then,” he laughs back.  “I’m going to clean up, I’ll join you soon,” he promises.  

Aldis is asleep again before he can fulfill that promise.