#but I just want to declare this particular thing done and move on

[krismatic]

finally got around to drawing them all! I played through isat recently and I’m now obsessed <3

[rileyslibrary]

You’ve just moved in with Simon. Great.

There’s one slight problem, though: Due to the nature of his work, the guy interprets everything as an order. And executes accordingly.

———————————————————————

You sit on the kitchen’s table, enjoying breakfast together, when you notice the full trash bin.

“The trash needs to be taken out,” you casually mention, not giving it too much thought.

But, to your surprise, Simon shoots up from his chair like a coiled spring, leaving his half-eaten food behind. “Roger that,” he responds and jogs towards the trash bin, leaving you baffled.

“Simon?”

He stops and turns to look at you.

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to do it right now.”

“When do you want it done?” he asks, waiting for your next command.

“Wh-whenever you can,” you reply, uncertain how else to phrase it.

“I can do it now,” Simon declares and proceeds to the trash bin.

“Babe, we’re eating.” You say and point at the semi-eaten food on the kitchen table.

He looks at the food, then back at you. He shrugs.

“No,” you state, “Come sit down and finish your breakfast first.”

He nods as if Price just gave him the objectives for his next mission and jogs to the table to resume his breakfast.

He’s always like this. Last week, you found a cockroach running in the bathroom, and you screamed so loud that he almost kicked the door. When he asked you what you wanted him to do, your first instinct was a very loud and clear “KILL IT!” without thinking about your statement’s repercussions. He chased it around, murmuring stuff like “Target’s on the move” and other nonsense until he trapped the cockroach in a corner. He stepped on it once and twisted his foot. The cockroach was dead. Gone. Kaput. But he wanted to do it again, to “confirm the kill.” When you told him there was no need since the cockroach was already a pulp and left you all to a better place, he refused and ordered an “evac” of the bathroom to “do it properly.” And when you asked if “properly” meant an AK-47 and camo apparel, he thought about it long and hard before agreeing that further escalation would be unnecessary.

Be it his ingrained behaviour as a soldier to execute orders, deeply rooted within his system, or his fear not to let you down, he was finding it difficult to leave his work duties at the door. He always carried them inside—in the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. He acted like Ghost, not Simon. Everything was a matter of order to him, and there was no time for relaxation.

But it doesn’t have to be like this; you want him to know that. He doesn’t have to be so rigid at home. He can relax and take a step back from his institutionalised habits.

To prove your point, you decide to give him another instruction, this time more indirectly.

You glance at the sink; some pans are picking out from making breakfast this morning.

“Oh boy,” you moan, trying to pull off an act, “we have to clean the dishes at some point.”

He raises his head to look at the kitchen sink, then sides-eyes you.

“Any particular time you want that done?” He asks, ironically.

“I said ‘at some point’, Simon,” you snap, “there’s no urgency.”

“You also said we ‘have’ to do it,” he snaps back. “‘Have to’ has some sort of urgency in it, doesn’t it?”

You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You’re right, but it’s more of a general statement,” you reply. “We can do it whenever it’s convenient.”

Simon processes your words and nods.

You stare at him while he eats, and you feel a tug at your heart, urging you to address the underlying issue on your mind. You take a deep breath, searching for the right words to express your feelings without offending him. You reach out and touch his arm to grab his attention. He turns to face you.

“You’re so dedicated to what you do; it’s one of the things I love about you,” you begin, “but our home should be a place where we can both unwind and be ourselves without feeling like we’re constantly on a mission.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” he asks.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, wanting to explain them in a way that resonates with him.

“Well, when you jump to fulfil every request or task like it’s an order, it sometimes feels like we’re always on duty,” you explain gently. “I want us to create a more relaxed atmosphere here, where we can enjoy each other’s company and take things at a slower pace.”

He thinks about it for a while.

“Am I doing that?” He asks.

You slowly nod with a gentle smile.

“Affirmative,” he replies, “I’ll try to take it down a notch.”

“No ‘roger’, no ‘affirmative’, nothing like that is needed here,” you explain.

“Is ‘alright’ alright?” He asks.

“Yes,” you smile, “alright is alright.”

He finishes his breakfast and puts his dish in the sink.

“So,” he says, pointing one hand at the dirty dishes and the other at the bin. “Is there any particular order in which you want these two to be done?”

You smile. “No, babe; you take out the trash, and I’ll do the dishes.”

“Underst-alright, alright.” He corrects himself and walks to the garbage. He ties up the bag’s strings and picks up the bin. He spots you looking at him.

“Am I doing something wrong?” He hesitates.

“Why are you taking the entire bin with you?”

He keeps looking at you and places the bin on the floor.

“Just in case the bag’s ripped,” he explains, “I don’t want to spill garbage juice on the floor.”

“Oh.”

“Should I take the bag only?” He asks and begins to remove it from the bin.

“No… that’s pretty smart, actually.”

He raises his eyebrows and points a thumb at himself.

“Yes, Simon,” you nod and smile, “you’re pretty smart and considerate. I’ll carry out the same procedure while on trash bin duty.”

He puffs up his chest and picks up the bin with the bag in it.

“I’m dedicated, smart and considerate.” You hear him boast to himself as he walks towards the exit, ready to execute his mission.

———————————————————————

[justporo]

Sweet Things

You've been brooding all day, even Astarion is at a loss on how to pull you out of it - until he offers you a sweet treat, with lots of bickering of course.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Written for the Hot Chocolate/Mulled Wine" prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge. Honestly my favourite piece I've written so far for the challenge - let's see if it will stay this way.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1,6k

~~~

You had been in a bad mood the whole day with no particular reason for it. And nothing was able to lift your mood. Not even your vampire and his usual shenanigans had been able to pull you out of your puddle of negative feelings. Especially when Astarion had suggested you come with him into the city to run some errands.

The usual excitement you felt to go outside during the crispy cold but beautiful winter weather, to walk through the snow and see the lights in the city - it was non-existent today. In fact, you had taken one look out of the tall living room window, scowled and Astarion had thrown a little fit about how ‘you made him venture forth into the perils of the winter smitten city so the two of you may yet survive the bitter cold’. But even his histrionics, little pout and round red eyes had done nothing to change your mind.

Astarjon had sighed in defeat: “Alright, my love, you go and soak in your bad mood as long as you can, I'll wrangle you out of it soon enough.” “Don't threaten me with a good time, Astarion”, you had replied dryly but the vampire had just smirked. A plan had undoubtedly been set into motion. After that he had been off to go into the city - of course not without coming over to you, cupping your face softly and pressing a kiss to your lips.

Afterwards you had tried to make your peace with your bad mood and had curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, just staring into the flickering flames.

A while later you heard Astarion return to your shared home.

“I've returned from the hunt, my love, and I bring you some bounty”, the vampire declared. You turned around to see him standing in the doorframe with a huge grin and an inconspicuously looking bag in his hand. You saw some melting snowflakes glisten in his curls. He looked very proud of himself with how he let the bag dangle in front of you, one eyebrow lifted inquisitively.

Oh, you knew he was daring you to ask about it. This was one of his signature ways to get what he wanted: teasing you by holding the carrot in front of your face and then quickly moving it out of your reach with an “ah ah ah” and a fang-baring grin. 

And you felt how his tactic even slowly started to work now.

“A bag? Aw Astarion, you shouldn't have! Bags are my favourite!”, you gave back and felt a sassy grin grow on your face. Turning around on your knees on the plush sofa you placed your arms on the rim of the piece of furniture and then placed your cheek on top of it - basically hugging the backrest.

The vampire frowned at you, obviously unsatisfied with your insolent reaction. But he wouldn't be Astarion were he to give up because of that.

“Yes, a bag. And if you stop being such a miserable and yet so sassy little thing, you might even get what's inside of it”, he snapped back mockingly.

“You know, usually this time of year when someone threatens you with the thing they have inside their bag it's a rod to punish the naughty.”

“Well, seeing how naughty you've been to me today, who says there isn't a rod in there?” His grin had turned sultry, his gaze dropping in a way that made other than your negative feelings churn inside of you.

“I repeat myself from earlier: don't threaten me with a good time, Astarion”, you replied with a smirk. Simultaneously you noticed that your bad mood was slowly lifting. Well, he was your soulmate after all, wasn't he? He knew all the tricks.

Astarion in the meantime had put his hands on his hips in an affronted manner. You heard telltale, soft clanking sounds coming from the bag and raised your eyebrows at the vampire.

“So, are we sulking or are we trying to outwit me, eh?”, he commented with a little sneer, but you knew he was only teasing. “Can you at least decide what your mood is?”, he continued when you first made big sad puppy eyes at him and then stuck out your tongue at him. “It's getting exhausting to keep track of your whims, love.”

He quickly and easily dodged the pillow you threw at his face and grinned at you.

“That's pretty rich coming from you, love”, you answered and flipped him off. “Now tell me what's in the bag!”

The vampire clicked his tongue in disapproval: “You lost the privilege of finding out when you threw the pillow, no you'll have to wait.”

You threw another pillow with a pout but your partner had quickly turned and left the room altogether. 

Since you had no intention of losing other privileges and knew exactly that Astarion was way too greedy for praise and thus would come to you again, you just turned around and lounged on the couch once more. You closed your eyes and felt that most of your bad mood had disappeared already, so you simply relaxed to the bustling and rustling that had started coming from the kitchen.

You hadn't planned on drifting off.

But then you were awoken again by the smell of something delicious filling your nose. You opened your eyes and saw an incredibly ugly mug in the form of a boot in front of you.

But more important than its form were its contents you immediately recognised as: delicious hot chocolate with some slowly melting meringue drops on top of it.

And when you looked up you saw that Astarion was holding the cup almost directly under your nose with a smug grin on his lips.

“Something sweet for my sweet thing?”, he asked while batting his eyelashes excessively and his grin growing even broader.

“Where did you find the most hideous mug on this plane of existence?”, you replied and sat up on the sofa - also making space for Astarion to sit beside you.

The vampire sighed massively while he sat beside you and handed you the mug: “You are a ghastly little thing today, have I told you that?”

“At least with me it’s only today.”

Now even Astarion was flabbergasted.

“By the gods, love”, he said with raised eyebrows and then took a swig from his own mug you hadn’t noticed before. “You really do spend too much time in my company”, he finished after he had put down the cup again.

You peeked over at his cup and figured he must have gone for something with a little more kick than hot chocolate - mulled wine most likely.

“And now go and drink your hot chocolate which I so painstakingly made for you, love, or I’ll show you ghastly”, he said and leaned to you, narrowing his red eyes at you. You just made big innocent puppy eyes at him again.

You had every intention to comply - but first you swung your legs over his and covered the both of you with your blanket to make it extra cosy. And then after some fussing from the vampire and some readjusting you had snuggled up on the couch. Astarion kept sipping on his mulled wine and you finally tasted your hot and sweet beverage.

When the first of the rich, warm taste hit your tongue, you couldn’t help but let out a pleased moan and let your head fall back.

“It tastes amazing, love”, you moaned and let your eyes roll in delighted pleasure.

“Well then. Maybe I should introduce some hot chocolate in the bedroom if this is how you react to it”, Astarion commented. He was trying to play over it with his sultry joke but he was obviously proud of himself for having made what caused this reaction in you.

“You prepared it perfectly, Astarion, thank you”, you said now in a genuine tone and let one of your hands cover his which he had carefully placed on your blanket-covered knees.

He looked at you then with a small, sweet smile.

“Thanks for taking the time and the patience to put up with me and make this, Astarion”, you said and softly squeezed his hand. His smile grew broader.

You sat and drank and talked and joked. At some point you made Astarion try his own creation while you got a sip of his also very delicious mulled wine. He insisted he still preferred savory because he already had that one sweet thing in his life. But you saw him lick his lips after trying the chocolate.

When you had downed your beverage to the last drop, you sighed contentedly while the vampire looked fully pleased with himself.

“Feel better now?”, he asked and put his mug down on the floor. You simply nodded and watched as he leaned over to you.

“Good”, he whispered while he kept leaning in closer still. “But you still have a little something there”, he continued in a deep tone and eyed your already opened lips. You just made a silent “oh” while you expectantly awaited yet another treat from Astarion.

He softly grabbed your chin and closed the distance between you. You closed your eyes, expecting the kiss.

But then the vampire just grossly licked over and around your top lip to get rid of the remaining chocolate there.

You kicked and squealed trying to get him off you and stop torturing you with this gross procedure but he had the upper hand.

And then he had jumped up grabbing both your cups, promising to return with a refill of mulled wine for the both of you while you wiped off your mouth with the back of your hand.

“And you call me ghastly”, you screamed after Astarion but you couldn’t stop the big smile spreading over your face.

From the kitchen you only heard the vampire’s laughter in response.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

[ohlawdthebirds]

Ace In The Hole

Platonic!141 x Gn! and Asexual!Reader

Huge thank you to @groguspicklejar for letting me turn her drabble into a full fic. You can find the drabble here.

TW: Nothing huge, slight NSFW because sex is mentioned in this fic.

Synopsis: Price is fed up with how much Soap and Gaz sleep around. He's at his wits end until you come up with a solution.

And credit to @cafekitsune for these gorgeous dividers.

FREE PALESTINE FOREVER!!!!

Captain John Price was a lot of things: a respected member of the armed forces, a diligent leader, and an overall powerhouse of a man. He’d survived weeks of bootcamp, hailstorms of bullets, and targets on his life at every given turn. That all being said, he found himself wondering where he went wrong in life. When did he, captain of an elite task force, become mediator for his subordinates’ squabbles?

Soap and Gaz sat in front of him, petulant as toddlers, arguing over their latest paramour. The two of them shared a barracks room and were arguing over a “sleepover schedule” so that all of their “needs” were being met. From what Price had gathered, they currently had no set schedule, leaving them walking in on each other while with their barrack bunny of the week.

Not for the first time, John Price considered an early retirement.

“Ye cannae take the whole week, ye bampot!” Soap was indignant over Gaz’s proposed schedule, one that would give him Monday through Thursday, leaving Soap with Friday and Saturday. Sundays were off limits. Even God rested.

“Ah’m no lettin’ ye keep the lass to yerself. Isnae fair now innit?” He cried.

“Fair? You want the bird all to yourself, then? As I recall, you were balls deep in her most of last week. Nearly had to pry you out of her, you arse!” Gaz tossed back.

It was no secret that the two of them were sluts. Whores, even. John “Soap” MacTavish and Kyle “Gaz” Garrick had a penchant for sleeping around. They’d bedded no less than half their battalion, bedded a fair number of civilians during their leaves, and even bedded each other on a few occasions. Price would be lying if he said he wasn’t impressed. But with these conquests came the inevitable: arguing over shared partners and said partners sometimes fighting over who got to sleep with whom. It was ridiculous, really.

They continued on until Price decided he was actively losing brain cells. He slammed his hands on the desk and stood from his chair. Two of his best and brightest froze in their seats, eyes wide as they stared at him.

“Right then, is there any particular reason you lot felt the need to have this discussion in my office? Clearly you two don’t have enough to keep you busy. Seems I’ll have to change that.”

Soap and Gaz loudly protested, voices overlapping each other’s. Price was gearing up to distribute both a mountain of paperwork and multiple laps around the building when a knock came from his office door. He fixed Soap and Gaz with a piercing stare that silenced them, before calling out for whomever knocked to come in. You stepped in, brows furrowed over the yelling you heard earlier.

“Everything okay in here, sir?”

Price nodded gruffly. “These two were done anyways. Boys, you’re dismissed.”

Once Price declared something there was no pushing back on it. The man was immovable once he made up his mind.

The two sergeants decided it was best to cut their losses then and there and continue their argument back in the barracks. They greeted you on their way out, Gaz gently clapping you on the shoulder and Soap bumping fists with you. Price sat back behind his desk and retrieved a cigar from a drawer.

“I thought you were on leave today?” the captain said.

 “Still am,” you replied, “Just wanted to make sure nothing came up before I left out.”

Price shook his head. “You’re all good, kid. See you Monday.”

You grinned and nodded. You were about to move towards the door but paused, turning to face Price. “Captain, I know it’s none of my business, truly, but I overheard what Soap and Gaz were arguing about before I came in. I think I could potentially help you out here.”

Price’s brow furrowed. You continued, “You know how competitive those two get, right? Why not use that against them? Make a bet to see who can go the longest without sleeping with anyone.”

Price ran a hand over his moustache as he considered. It wasn’t a bad plan. It was certainly one that had potential.

“Could work, certainly. But you know they won’t just accept a bet without a good prize, right?”

A smirk crossed your lips. “Of course, Cap, that’s where this gets interesting.” You leaned forward, eyebrows raised. Price indulged you, leaning forward himself.

“I enter this little competition. A third person will ensure they won’t try cheating, since they’ll have to keep themselves accountable. The winner not only gets to decide on whatever weird schedule thing they’ve got going on, provided all partners consent of course, but they also get dibs on the good seat in the chopper on our next mission.”

Price sat back in his chair, mulling it over. “Knew there was a reason we recruited you. Ace, you might have just saved me a weekend’s worth of headaches. I’ll inform those two gits.”

You grinned. This would certainly be interesting, especially since no one knew you had quite the “ace” up your sleeve.

-

It wasn’t a secret that you were asexual, it just wasn’t something that came up often. You never officially came out to the 141, deeming it unnecessary. When asked whether you were dating, you’d brush off the questions by answering that you weren’t all that interested. When prompted further if anyone on base had caught your eye, you’d respond that you were too busy. These things were true in a sense; being a sniper for the 141 certainly kept you busy and even during your downtime you found yourself preoccupied with whatever hobby you’d decided to indulge in that week or hanging out with your teammates. You lived a full life and considered dating relatively low on your list of priorities. There was also something deeply hilarious about your callsign being “Ace”, though it was referencing just how skillful you were with a sniper rifle. Entering this contest wasn’t anything difficult for you. In fact, you thought it would be interesting to see how your teammates would rise to the challenge.

-

The first week after Price announced the challenge was probably the funniest week of your life. Soap and Gaz were indignant, which you expected, but they accepted the challenge, nonetheless. When Price revealed that you were also in the running, they made it a point to corner you at the shooting range. You were reloading your gun when they walked in. Soap was the first to approach you, striding forward with his arms crossed.

“So, Price told us yer the one who proposed this whole contest, aye? Fir wye?” he asked.

You placed the gun down and turned to fully face your teammates. “’Why?’” you repeated back, “Because the two of you were causing chaos on base and Price was ready to assign you cleaning duty for the rest of your careers. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

“Well, we’re letting you know that we’ve accepted the challenge. That heli seat is mine,” Gaz said. After his incident from last year, Gaz made it a point to sit as far away from the helicopter door as possible.

“That’s fine by me,” You turned and picked the gun back up, “Though, I’m sure this’ll be easy.”

Gaz cocked an eyebrow at you. “And what makes you say that?”

“Oh, nothing in particular. Just excited to see how this’ll go.” You cocked the gun and aimed it, firing off a round into the center of the target paper.

-

After finishing at the gun range, you headed towards the canteen to grab lunch. It wasn’t until you’d grabbed your food and began to look for your teammates that you heard laughter bubbling up around the canteen. You ignored it, moving towards the back table where Ghost currently occupied a seat. Ghost didn’t acknowledge you when you sat down, his eyes trained just past your shoulder. Your brows furrowed and you quickly followed his line of sight, turning back towards the door. The moment your eyes locked onto Soap and Gaz you nearly fell out of your chair in shock.

They were dressed as nuns, and from what you could tell, they were wearing legitimate nun habits instead of cheap costumes from Halloweens past. They strode forward, faces solemn and hands folded in prayer. Soap fiddled with a rosary his mother had given him on his first deployment. They approached your table, made the sign of the cross, and sat down. Ghost shot incredulous looks at the both of them.

“What’s all this, then? Halloween come early?” He asked.

“We’ve taken a vow of chastity, Lt. The ol’ Johnny and Kyle are no more. We’ve devoted ourselves to prayer and abstinence. We’re men o’ the cloth now,” Soap replied.

“Shoulda’ taken a vow of silence,” Ghost tossed out, digging his fork into whatever mystery meat the canteen had slapped on his tray.

You and Kyle didn’t bother holding back your chuckles.

“You do realize the nun habits are unnecessary, right? Price never said you had to wear them.” You said.

“Yes, but this shows that we’re serious about this challenge,” Kyle piped up.

You fixed him with a deadpan stare. “There’s absolutely nothing serious about your current get-up. But okay.”

The rest of lunch passed without much else happening, save for the occasional snort of laughter from other personnel.

-

The second week was just as nonsensical as the first. You knew the terrible two were up to no good when jangling and clanking noises came from them as they walked into Price’s office. The men sat, albeit quite stiffly, and tried their hardest to ignore Price’s hard glare.

“What’s all that ruckus?” Price growled out.

Soap had the nerve to look as though his captain were speaking in riddles. “Ah’ dunno what yer on about Cap, we’ve done nothin’ wrong. Right Gaz?”

Gaz at least had the decency to look embarrassed. You placed down the file you were examining. “What’s all that clanking you two have got going on?”

Soap wasted no time in standing up and yanking down his pants. You were met with the sight of a leather and metal thong with a padlock over the crotch. A chastity belt. The man was wearing an honest-to-God chastity belt.

The room was stunned into silence. Gaz hung his head in shame. It only took you a moment to realize he was wearing the same contraption. Ghost was the first to break the silence.

“Those come with keys?”

“Why Lt? You lookin’ to unlock me?” Soap smirked at Ghost, still a flirt despite the clear restrictions on him.

“I’m lookin’ to throw those keys out the window,” Ghost replied dryly. You caught Price trying to stifle his laughter behind his fist.

“Do those hurt?” you asked.

“Nah, but they do pinch a bit. Mostly awkward to walk around in,” Gaz said.

Price stood from his desk and passed over more files. “If you’re all well and done, Laswell’s got a few updates from last week. Give these a read.”

You had to admit, there was something comical about reading over confidential information while knowing two men in the room had actual chastity belts on. Price soon dismissed you all back to whatever tasks you had on base. You headed to the gym with Ghost right alongside you. Soap and Gaz clanked out the door and down the hall.

“How long d’you think they’ll keep this up?” You asked once you were in the gym, scooting yourself underneath the bench press. Ghost shrugged, adding more weights to the bar.

“Depends on how just how committed they are to this whole thing. Though I’m sure they’ll break soon,” he answered.

“What makes you say that?” Your hands reached up to the bar, readying yourself to lift the weights.

“Just a feeling. Adjust your grip, you’ll kill yourself otherwise.”

“No, seriously, what makes you say that?” You gripped the bar, raising up and lowering it to your chest before raising it back up again.

“On the field, those are some of the smartest men I know. On base? Barkin’ mad, the both of ‘em. Surprised they even lasted this long.”

You racked the weights above your head once your set was finished. “You’re probably right. But you have to admit, this has been a pretty entertaining two weeks.” You looked up at Ghost, who seemed to be deep in thought.

“Why’d you join this contest anyways?” He asked.

You sat up and turned to him. “Because I knew it’d be an easy win. I don’t exactly…ah, well, I figured it’d be fun to see how things played out.”

Ghost grunted in reply. “Fair enough. Now give me twenty more reps.”

You groaned as you made your way back under the bar.

-

As it turned out, Ghost was right. The third week was when things reached their breaking point. You were on the hunt for a missing knife, one you’d lent Gaz a few days back. Ghost’s words replayed in your mind; were the sergeants reaching their breaking point? Would they soon throw in the towel?

You approached Soap and Gaz’s barrack, fist raised to knock, when you heard a noise that froze your fist mid-air. There was the sound of rustling and grunting. You jumped back from the door.

There was no way…unless?

You stepped forward again, rapping your knuckles against the wood. All sounds behind the door stopped. You were about to knock again when the door swung open.

You came face to face with Gaz, his eyes blown wide and his chest heaving.

“Gaz? You alright? Why are you so flushed?”

Your eyes caught sight of a bruise on the column of his throat. In fact, there were multiple bruises. Before he could raise his shirt to cover them, you yanked down the collar.

“Hold it, what’s this? What’s this, Gazzy-boy?! You get attacked by over-enthusiastic mosquitoes?!”

Gaz swatted your hands away. “N-no, this is just-! I burned myself earlier!”

Ignoring his protests you shouldered past him into the room, where you were met with the sight of Soap trying to pull on clothes as fast as humanly possible. You paused in the middle of the room and inhaled deeply. The air stunk of sweat and lust. Soap, having wrangled himself into pants, tried to approach you.

“Listen Ace, this isnae wit ye think it is. We were just havin’ a chat, Gaz’n ah. ”

You turned to him with a grin stretching from cheek to cheek. “Oh really? Because I think you two were having more than just a chat. And I think I just won the bet. And this-” You whipped out your phone and snapped a picture of the two of them, clothes disheveled, and skin marked with hickeys, “Is enough to prove it!”

With that you turned on your heel and booked it out the door, flying down the corridor and across the building towards Price’s office. Gaz and Soap ran after you, yelling for you to stop. The door to Price’s office nearly flew off the hinges when you barged in, phone held out in front of you. Price leveled you with a glower.

“This better be good, sergeant, otherwise you’re runnin’ laps for the next hour.”

“Oh, this is better than good, Captain, this is great.” You upped your phone’s brightness and slapped it on his desk. Price leaned over, squinting at the screen. It took only a moment for him to register what he was staring at before his eyes widened. Soap and Gaz barreled into the room, out of breath and speaking over each other.

“Cap, isnae wot ye think-!”

“Ace is framing us! We weren’t-!”

Price's face darkened. He stood from his desk, your phone in his hand.

“You fools couldn’t last 3 weeks?”

The room went dead silent, and you swore the temperature dropped a little. For a moment you wondered if you made a fatal mistake.

Price stalked forward, nearly towering over the three of you.

“Ace, you’ve won the bet. But I’ve just realized that we only discussed the reward and not the punishment for this. Any ideas?” He turned to you and handed your phone over.

Gaz and Soap shot you pleading looks, silently begging for you to be merciful. And for a moment you wondered if you should make them suffer, make them writhe. But in a moment of mercy, you decided against it.

“You know, I’m impressed that these two were able to find those nun habits and chastity belts. And such high quality too! You think they can find maid costumes?”

Price’s face lit up with the sick delight. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll manage. And I’m sure they’ll wear ‘em for the next three weeks too.”

Soap and Gaz’s faces were masks of pure shock. It was at that moment that Ghost walked into the office, a cup of tea in one hand and a file in the other. He stared at the scene in front of him, turned, and walked back out.

-

You were wrong. The weeks during the bet weren’t the funniest of your life. It was truly the weeks after that took the cake.

As per your request, Gaz and Soap procured maid outfits, complete with fishnet stockings and kitten heels. They were met with raucous laughter everywhere they went. The only one with a modicum of shame was Gaz, and even then, you caught him strutting his stuff when he passed you in the halls. Soap was happy to be back to normal. He even claimed that the costume was a hit with his partners that liked role-playing.

You saddled up next to Ghost in the rec room one night, thanking him when he brought down your favorite tea from the shelf. The two of you prepared your drinks in companionable quiet. Ghost turned to you, spoon halting in his cup.

“I would say congrats on winnin’ that bet, but I figured you would.”

You huffed out a gentle laugh. “Thanks, Lt.”

Ghost paused for a moment, seeming almost sheepish.

“You, uh…you never finished what you were saying, back when we were in the gym. Said you ‘didn’t exactly' and then you trailed off.”

“Oh, I can’t believe you remembered that. Yeah, I just…um…basically I don’t experience dating and relationships the same way everyone else does.”

“What d’you mean by that?”

You stopped stirring your tea. A part of you wondered if Ghost would understand, if he’d be supportive. You knew the man well enough that he wouldn’t ridicule you, but not everyone was understanding. It often felt like being asexual was a fringe thing. You sucked in a deep breath. Regardless of anyone’s feelings, you were asexual. It was real and anyone who said otherwise could get a mouthful of your boots.

“I’m asexual. Don’t really experience sexual attraction, y’know? Like, when you see someone others deem “hot” or “attractive” or whatever and want to have sex with them? I don’t understand that, and that desire doesn’t really happen to me. It doesn’t mean I don’t have a libido, its just never directed towards any one particular person. It’s a whole spectrum.”

You ended your ramble with a sip of tea.

“Oh, so that’s what it’s called? Didn’t realize there was a name for it,” Ghost muttered. You stiffened, cup halted in midair.

“When’d you figure that out?” Ghost asked.

“Kinda knew I was different when I began faking crushes on people back in school. And anytime those “crushes” reciprocated, I was weirded out by it. I did have real crushes, but those came a bit later. I’ve dated before, and thankfully my partners were understanding. I even had sex once! Just to try it out. It was…y’know, it was fine but I’m still definitely asexual.” You trailed off with a nervous laugh. “Sorry for the ramble, but whenever people ask, I try to explain everything, so I don’t have to keep answering questions.”

“I appreciate the honesty,” Ghost said. He cleared his throat. He seemed stuck between wanting to ask more and wondering if he was asking too much. In the end, you looked over and said: “I have a few books on it if you ever want to read up more on the subject. They helped me out a lot.”

Ghost said nothing, only nodding. He gently clinked your cup with his before he turned and headed towards the door. He stopped at the door frame and looked back over his shoulder.

“Hey Ace?”

You sipped more of your tea.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

You smiled.

“Anytime, Ghost.”

[frankenkyle19]

I Hate You, I Love You

Peter Maximoff x reader smut (might do a part two for this after Peter is healed so him and reader can really have a good time 👀)

word count: 2.9k

warnings: handjob, whiny Peter, maybe ooc peter? I’ve never written for him before. Peter steals a pair of readers undies, begging, uhhh peter being a whiny baby

Most people would die for the chance to know a superhero. You? Not so much. You knew a superhero.. and you hated him.

Maybe hate was a strong word, but you really didn’t like him. He was weird, and jittery, and his vibe just seemed off. You’d known him since the fifth grade, when he started being the little shit he was, using his powers to steal other kids’ things. A cookie, a pen, etc. 

One time he ran by you so fast he knocked you over and you scraped your knees. After that day you hated him. Hated his stupid silver hair and his dumb t-shirts.

By the time you two got to highschool, he was even worse. He didn’t fit in with the other kids, being too different to really find a group of people. He wasn’t a jock, and he wasn’t really a nerd. Somewhere in the middle. He mostly kept to himself, eating lunch at the back of the cafeteria at a small table by himself.

Before you knew it, things started happening with you two. One day he sat next to you at lunch and just started talking. Nothing in particular, just talking to talk. He did that a lot. His mouth was always moving, just like his body. You’d never seen him sit still and be quiet for more than five minutes.

You ignored him most of the time, scoffing at some of his comments as you ate your lunch, just biding your time until the bell rang and you could get the hell out of there.

This happened for a few months before you even really had real conversations with him. You formed an almost friendship when you were both paired up for a project for science class. 

Peter was ecstatic. You on the other hand… didn’t really think too much about it. It was just a simple assignment and once it was done things could go back to normal.

Peter harbored some type of weird obsession with you. Maybe it was because you didn’t show him any attention, that he started pining for it, but he was desperate to get you to talk to him. To even look at him.

You had invited him over to your house to talk about the project, not wanting to go to his house and risk being alone with him. At least one of your parents would be home. You didn’t take Peter for a creep, nor sensed him ever being any danger to you, but men could be unpredictable, and you’d rather not take your chances.

He’d zoomed up the stairs to your room, jumping on your bed with absolutely no regard for manners. 

He settled against your pillows, just looking up at you with that stupid grin he always wore. You wanted to strangle the boy.

You both worked on your project for a while before Peter declared he was hungry, and with a sigh you told him you’d grab some snacks and be. right up 

Realistically Peter knew he shouldn’t snoop around. He knew it was an invasion of privacy and if you caught him, any chances of him befriending you would go right down the drain.

Still, he stood up as quietly as he could, looking around your room and getting a good look at everything before snooping in your dresser drawers. Shirts. Pants. And… 

Jackpot.

He’d found your underwear drawer. His eyes widened a bit as he quickly glanced at the door, making sure you weren’t coming back, before he picked up the very first pair his hand came in contact with. Red panties with a little white bow in the front. They were fucking cute and they were definitely his now. He stuffed them into his backpack before he sat back on the bed, trying to act normal and like he definitely hadn’t just stolen a pair of your fucking panties.

The rest of your time together went just fine. You noticed Peter acting weirder than usual, but just brushed it off because he was just a weird dude. 

Eventually you finished the project and he left, barely saying goodbye before he sped down the stairs and was gone.

You hadn’t even noticed anything was gone until the next day when you went to get dressed and your favorite pair of panties was missing. Of course your first thought wasn’t that Peter had stolen them. You just figured you had misplaced them. You tore your whole room apart looking for them before giving up. How had they just gone missing?

Now Peter on the other hand was very proud of his new prize, having just stared at them for nearly an hour after he got home, imagining how they looked on you. 

He stuffed them under his bed before he went to sleep, a happy, satisfied smile on his lips. He just really really hoped you didn’t notice that they were gone.

Time went by and after you presented your project to the class, you and Peter drifted apart again. Your suspicions of him stealing from you, and his slight guilt for doing so drove you two apart.

You resented Peter. He was just so weird, and maybe a part of you thought he was cute, but you’d never admit it. Even to yourself. Absolutely not.

After you graduated high school, you didn’t see much of him anymore unless it was on the news. Sure he lived only a few doors down, but you made sure to avoid him, and he never went out of his way to talk to you.

When you did see him on the tv, a part of you missed getting to see him in person everyday. He had really grown into himself and looked at least a bit more mature than he had. I mean after all he was a superhero now. It was odd to think about, that he was running around saving people while you just continued on with your life as if you never knew him.

At this point you figured you’d never talk to him again. Hell, he probably didn’t want to talk to you. The girl who completely ignored him in highschool? He probably hated you as much as you hated him.

Of course, he didn’t though. Peter was still absolutely enthralled by you, wanting nothing more than to talk to you again, but he kept his distance. He had eventually gotten rid of the pair of panties, every time he saw them it caused his heart to break a little more. Why couldn’t you just like him back? Why couldn’t he just get over you already? It had been years and he’d still drop everything for you if you asked him to. 

You hadn’t seen him in a while, even while you were trying to purposely peek out your window and wait for him to zoom past. It didn’t come. You didn’t see or hear from him. One day you heard from one of your friends that he'd been injured. Like… pretty badly. 

As much as you hated to admit it, you worried for him. His job was dangerous and this just further proved it. 

You wanted to go over and see if he was okay, but figured it may be weird. You hadn’t talked in several years and he may not even remember you at this point.

That’s why when his mom knocked on your door one afternoon, you were very very worried. You had immediately asked her if something was wrong and to your instant relief, she said no. She explained that she was going out of town with Peter’s little sister and wouldn’t be back for a few days. She asked you to keep an eye on him, make sure he got his pain meds and was fed because he was basically bedridden due to having a fractured arm and broken leg.

You agreed, because who would you be to tell the woman no? So she gave you a spare key and gave you the layout of the house.

On the day you were supposed to go over, you put on a nice skirt and shirt that hugged your body just right. Honestly you didn’t even know why you dressed up. You were going over there to take care of him, to make sure he wasn’t in any pain, so why were you thinking about looking nice?

You used the key you’d been given and let yourself into the house, looking around. It was a neat house, and his mother had told you that his room was downstairs in the basement, so you made your way down there.

You stopped about halfway down the steps, calling out to make sure Peter wasn’t startled.

“Peter! It’s- it’s me- y/n? Your mom asked me to come check on you and help you with some stuff.” 

You heard what sounded like a pained groan as you made your way fully down the steps to find Peter laying in his bed, leg in a cast and propped up on a pillow. He looked up at you with the saddest eyes and you knew it was killing him not being able to move, let alone race around like he loved to do.

“Hurts.” He croaked, trying to sit up a bit, wincing. He hadn’t gotten his medicine this morning because his mom had left in such a rush, so he was in a lot of pain.

You quickly grabbed the bottle of pain meds from his dresser and took one out. One every 8 hours it said. You could definitely do that. You filled up a glass of water and carefully helped him sit up, bringing the water to his lips so he could swallow the pills. 

He looked pathetic and it did make you sad seeing him in such a state. After all these years this was not how you expected to meet him again.

He gave you a grateful smile before slumping back into bed, a breath escaping his parted lips as he looked up at the ceiling with a sigh. He was obviously bored and your mind raced, wondering what you could do to make him feel better.

He liked music, right? He always had those earbuds in during school, head bobbing along to whatever tune he was listening to.

You grabbed his Walkman from the floor and turned it on, listening as the music blared from the headphones. You carefully turned it down before offering a bud to Peter, who took it with his good hand and put it in his ear, body seeming to instantly relax at the sound of the music.

You decided to put the other bud into your ear, wondering what his music taste was like. It was pretty similar to yours and you found yourself humming along.

That’s how it was for the first couple days. You two just sat, listening to music and not really speaking much. Peter slept a lot, the pain meds usually knocking him out for several hours. You made him food and helped him up, out of bed to use the bathroom. 

On the fourth day he seemed to feel a bit better and was definitely more talkative, super curious about your life and what you’d been up to these past years. You caught him up on everything you cared to share, finding it really easy to talk to him. And also… enjoyable? He wasn’t the annoying boy you once knew. He was much more than that now, even if he was still a little dumb.

He seemed eager for you to leave on the fifth day. He kept saying he was fine and that he’d be okay the rest of the day. He was also super jittery, which you just attributed to his not being able to get up and move around. That wasn’t it at all though. Now that he was no longer in pain, he was horny as fuck, and hadn’t been able to jerk off. He’d tried, but trying to jerk it with his left hand just didn’t work. He couldn’t even cum.  

He was a bit snappy as well, which made you a bit frustrated. You’d been helping him this whole entire time and he was acting like a dick. 

You were on your last straw when you tried to take his blanket off of him to get a fresh one and put this one in the dryer and he yelled at you.

“No! No, leave it on me!” 

You startled a bit before you glared at him, tugging harder on the blanket. What was he doing? He wasn’t as strong as he usually would be and didn’t have a good grip on the blanket, so it slid off, causing you to take a few steps back.

Once the blanket was off of his body, you saw why he wanted it kept on. He had a boner. He was in a simple t-shirt and boxers shorts and his dick was totally straining against the fabric.

His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he wanted to curl up and die. How embarrassing was this. It wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help it, but he was scared you’d be disgusted.

“Peter-“ you started, blinking a few times and turning his gaze back to his face, clearing your throat.

“I’m sorry I- I didn’t know- I can leave- I’ll let you take care of that-“ you had dropped the blanket and went to walk back upstairs.

“Wait no!” He cried out, trying to sit up, wincing a bit. He looked desperate, eyes pleading with you as he took a deep breath.

“Please- fuck- please help me.” He whispered in the most pathetic tone you’d ever heard come out of a man. It was quite sad.

But… help him? Help him with wh-…oh. Help him with that. 

You knew you should have just walked right up those stairs and out of the house, but the way Peter looked at you sent a shiver down your spine and you found yourself taking a step towards the bed, glancing back down at his clothed erection.

“Please, I- shit I’ve tried jerkin’ off but I can’t do it with my left hand. Please just- just one time? I promise I won’t make it weird.” He begged, eyes wide and brimming with tears from how desperate he was for release. 

Without a word you silently nodded, letting your hand rest on his thigh before your fingers slid under the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down slowly. Peter’s breath hitched and he swore you moved in slow motion. Just get on with it, he thought. 

His cock sprung free as you pulled his boxers down to his knees, eyes widening. The tip was nearly purple and pre-cum seemed to pour from it, coating the throbbing length. He tried to arch his hips up into the air, a groan leaving his lips as the ache in his leg came back.

You hushed him gently, a careful hand coming to wrap around his length. The second you touched him, a shout came from his lips, trying his best not to buck up into the touch. Finally, Finally after all these years this was happening. Like really happening. Maybe Peter had died and gone to heaven. Surely this couldn’t be real… right?

But it was. It was oh so real. The way your hand gingerly squeezed his cock, thumb brushing over the tip. Peter knew he wasn’t going to last long at all. He tried his best not to bust a nut in the first thirty seconds, but it was difficult when the literal girl you’d been obsessed with since the fifth grade was finally doing exactly what you’d wanted her to do for so long.

He was in pure ecstasy. This was better than any pain med he’d been prescribed. The pain in his leg was seemingly nonexistent as all he focused on was the pleasure he was receiving.

“Oh f-fuck! Oh my god- oooooh shit that’s good-“ he mumbled, still even now never being able to shut up.

“Please- oh god I’m close I’m gonna- shit I’m gonna cum I’m sorry- I’m sorry-“ he groaned, hips flexing just a bit as without much more warning, he came in long, hot, thick ropes across your hand and over his stomach. 

He came a lot, and you saw how much he truly needed this release. He panted, eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tried to catch his breath. 

You reached over him to grab a tissue to clean him and yourself up, wiping him off gently before pulling his boxers back up, tucking him away as his body shuddered with the aftershocks of his intense release.

He managed to peek his eyes open to look at you with a tired smile.

“That was fuckin’ good. I promise I’ll pay you back when my leg is better.”

And he definitely kept that promise, because a few weeks later when he was fully healed (super speed things) he fucked you so hard he actually broke the headboard of his bed. After that, you two spent a lot more time together and eventually he gained the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend. You said yes.

It was crazy to think that what started as such a hatred towards this boy had led to this, but you wouldn’t change it for a second. 

[natsgrave]

TO BE LOVED IS TO BE KNOWN | wanda maximoff

i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you. i don't wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you. i've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night, and now i see daylight, i only see daylight. i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime! masterlist

AU

In the heart of a bustling city, amidst the clamor of everyday life, there was a small bookstore called "Whispering Pages." This quaint shop, with its creaky wooden floors and shelves overflowing with books, was a sanctuary for those seeking solace and understanding in the pages of stories. It was here that two souls, Y/N and Wanda, found each other and began a journey that would teach them the true meaning of love.

Wanda was a quiet, introspective woman with a penchant for losing herself in the worlds crafted by her favorite authors. Her days were spent managing the bookstore, and her nights were filled with the comfort of a good book. She was content in her solitude, finding companionship in the characters and stories she cherished.

Y/N, on the other hand, was a vibrant, outgoing woman with a zest for life that was contagious. A journalist by profession, she was always on the move, chasing stories and capturing moments. Despite her busy lifestyle, she had a deep appreciation for literature and often found herself wandering into "Whispering Pages" to escape the chaos of the outside world.

One rainy afternoon, as Wanda was engrossed in organizing a new shipment of books, Y/N entered the store, shaking off the droplets of rain from her coat. She walked to the counter, where Wanda was carefully arranging a display of classic novels.

"Excuse me," Y/N said, her voice warm and friendly. "Do you have any recommendations for a good read on a rainy day?"

Wanda looked up, momentarily startled by the sudden interruption. She saw a woman with kind eyes and an inviting smile, and despite her usual reserved nature, she found herself wanting to engage.

"Well," she began, her voice soft but steady, "it depends on what you're in the mood for. Do you have a particular genre in mind?"

Y/N leaned against the counter, considering her question. "I think I'm in the mood for something introspective, something that makes you reflect on life and love."

A smile tugged at the corners of Wanda's lips. "I think I have just the thing." She walked over to a nearby shelf, selecting a book with a worn cover and handing it to Y/N. "This is one of my favorites. It's a beautiful exploration of what it means to truly know and be known by another person."

Y/N took the book from her, their fingers brushing briefly. She glanced at the title and nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Wanda. This looks perfect."

Over the following months, Y/N became a regular visitor to the bookstore. Each visit brought with it a new conversation, a deeper connection. They discussed books, life, and their own hopes and dreams. Wanda found herself opening up to Y/N in a way she had never done with anyone before, and Y/N, in turn, shared parts of herself that she usually kept hidden.

One evening, as the sun began to set and the bookstore was bathed in a golden glow, Y/N approached Wanda with a sense of purpose. "Wanda, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Wanda hesitated for a moment, her heart racing. She had grown accustomed to their conversations, to the way Y/N made her feel seen and understood.

She nodded, a shy smile spreading across her face. "I'd like that very much."

They walked to a nearby café, their conversation flowing as naturally as the evening breeze. As they sat across from each other, Y/N reached for Wanda's hand. "You know, Wanda, I've been thinking a lot about what it means to love someone. I used to believe that love was about grand gestures and passionate declarations, but you've shown me that it's about something much deeper."

Wanda squeezed her hand gently, her eyes meeting Y/N's. "What do you mean?"

"To love someone is to truly know them," Y/N said softly. "It's about understanding their fears, their dreams, their quirks. It's about seeing them for who they really are and accepting them wholeheartedly. And Wanda, you've made me realize that I've never known anyone the way I know you." She added, "You have a way of speaking that is uniquely on your own, a melody that dances in the air and lingers long after the words have faded. Your voice, soft and melodious, carries a warmth that can soothe even the most troubled soul. When you speaks, it's as if each word is carefully chosen, imbued with meaning and intention. Whether you're sharing a grand idea or simply recounting on your day, there's a sincerity in your tone that draws me in." Y/N started. "Your laughter is like a burst of sunlight breaking through the clouds on a gloomy day. It's infectious, a sound that bubbles up from deep within you and spills out in a cascade of joy. I love the way your eyes light up when you laughs, how they crinkle at the corners and sparkle with mirth. It's in those moments, when you're lost in laughter, that I see the purest, most unguarded version of you—a sight that never fails to make my heart swell with affection."

Tears welled up in Wanda's eyes as she listened to Y/N's words.

"One of the things I adore most about you, Wanda, is your kindness. It's not always in grand gestures, though you're certainly capable of those, but in the little things you do every day. I've seen you comfort a stranger who looked lost, offer a smile to someone who seemed down, and take the time to listen to a friend in need. Your empathy knows no bounds, and it's in these small acts of kindness that your true beauty shines." Y/N continued to ramble, "You also have this habit of tucking your hair behind your ear when you're deep in thought, a gesture so simple yet so endearing. I've watched you do it countless times, each instance a reminder of how intimately familiar I've become with your little quirks. And when you're excited about something, your whole face lights up." She stopped for a moment before gazing at Wanda's eyes, "But perhaps what I love most about you is your unwavering authenticity. You are unapologetically yourself, never trying to be anything other than who you are. It's a rare and precious quality, one that draws people and makes them feel comfortable in your presence. You have a way of making the people around you feel seen and valued, of creating a space where we can be our true self without fear of judgment."

"Y/N, I've always been afraid of letting people in, of being truly known. But with you, it feels different. It feels right." Wanda stated, tears in her eyes.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with emotion. "Wanda, you are the most incredible person I've ever met. And I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know you even better, loving you for all that you are."

It's the small things, the details that might go unnoticed by others, that have woven Wanda into the fabric of Y/N's love for her. She is the embodiment of everything Y/N cherish, a constant source of joy and inspiration. To love Wanda is to know her, truly and deeply, and Y/N count herself incredibly fortunate to share this journey with Wanda.

Years passed, and "Whispering Pages" became more than just a bookstore; it became a testament to their love. Wanda and Y/N built a life together, filled with the understanding and acceptance that comes from truly knowing and being known by another person.

In every glance, every touch, every word, Y/N find new reasons to fall in love with Wanda all over again. She is her muse, her confidante, her greatest adventure. And as long as there are new things to discover about Wanda, Y/N know that her love for Wanda will only continue to grow, blossoming like the flowers she so adores, forever and always.

In the end, they realized that love wasn't about perfection or always having the right words. It was about being present, listening, and cherishing each other's hearts. And as they stood together, surrounded by the books that had brought them together, they knew that their love was a story worth telling, one that would endure for generations to come.

[bretongirlwrites]

The Falmer gone off in persistent search of my Thrown Voice, and the chaurruses likewise having scuttled away like cats to the rattling of their food-bowl, I bent beside the chest, – which I had determined was either not Falmer; or else some Falmer, tired of spiky grey minimalism and chitin plate, had decided to try a new design. I would not put it past the Falmer of Blackreach, – it must get dull down here, – once the novelties of scrap Dwemer metal and exciting new species of mushroom had worn off; but I was convinced this was from the above-ground; and made by the decidedly not scuttly. The wood had begun to crumple a little; and the hinges had fared little better; but there was a magic on it which even the miserable mizzle of Blackreach could not get to, which my own magic went determined into, and bounced straight off. 

‘Oh!’ said I: ‘do you know a better lockpicking spell?’

Marcurio looked askance at me, and said that the first thing every student learns, when clambering back to the university after a night of revelry, with the curfew in full force, is from the renowned book It's A Hard Lock Life For Us. – I therefore invited him to try. His spell, – o I could not imagine him revelling!, – bounced straight back as mine had.

‘If experience is anything to go by,’ said he, ‘the hardest locks guard fifty-seven septims and an iron dagger. – We ought to keep moving.’

‘Oh!’ I returned, ‘I want to see, – it rattles, listen, –’

And so after much deliberation, we decided upon trying a combined spell; joined hands, summoned it; and not knowing quite if combination worked, tried it regardless. The poor battered box looked miserably at us; creaked; and gave up entirely.

‘A crimson nirnroot!’ I cried at once.

‘Julienne, we already have thirty, –’ Marcurio protested. 

I must scowl and pick up the thing (which was damp quite beyond the norm for a nirnroot, more on the slimy sort of scale); and putting it carefully between two bits of paper, slide it in with the rest. The others in my bag were still chiming, faintly; this one let out a pathetic little whine and fell silent.  

‘Julienne, –’ said Marcurio suddenly. 

He thrust his hand into the box, and drew out the thing I'd wholly ignored, in favour of the sad nirnroot. – A thing which had kept its lustre, despite or perhaps because of the nirnroot-slime at the edges; which was so golden as to half blind us, in the thin darkness of Blackreach; and which we thought, somewhere in our unconsciousness, that we recognised. It was long, thin and perfectly unearthly. It was an Elder Scroll. 

Marcurio whistled: held the thing up as if to read it: thought better of it, valuing despite everything his sanity; and so kept it rolled up and wielded it quite fit to hit someone over the head with it. – I looked about for Falmer and doubted they’d succumb to a whack with a scroll. – The place still empty, – for my Voice had echoed over cliffs and chasms and possibly directly into a troll-nest, – he beheld it eyes gleaming, and said:

‘This must be what we’re looking for! Someone’s been to Mzark before us, –’

‘Oh!’ said I, ‘I hope they haven’t done anything stupid.’

‘They have left an Elder Scroll in a box in a Falmer camp,’ said he, ‘I don’t think we can hope for too much.’

‘How will we know if it is the right Scroll?’ said I.

Marcurio feigned having already been inspecting the thing for identifying marks. He was just about to declare that a particular engraving looked like a dragon; when suddenly he deflated, and cried:

‘The damnable, – the bloody, –

And all at once, he unfurled the Scroll and held it before him; I jumped forwards and feared we’d both be blinded and the ceiling collapse and the world end, – but nothing happened save that Marcurio put his head in his hands and threw the Scroll in my general direction. It did not blind me; nor was it inscribed in enigmas and mysteries; it said at the top: Special Limited Edition; and in the rest of it, things which cannot be related for reasons of decency and copyright. In the early Fourth Era, it seems, there had been a fad for novelty books, which had exceeded the boundaries of decorum, and also of people’s bookshelves; and which had, apparently, gone so far into the tacky and out of the other side, that we’d both of us been fooled. A run of popular books had been printed in the form of Elder Scrolls; and for reasons known only to a certain debauched actor of deepest history, one of them had been The Lusty Argonian Maid. 

‘I want to gouge my eyes out,’ said Marcurio. 

I looked at him; at the scroll, foolishly; thought the same thing; wondered if a Moth Priest had ever been driven to voluntary blindness by bad erotica; and burst out laughing.

‘It isn’t funny!’ said he: ‘we wasted so much magicka on that damn lock, –’

‘Oh!’ said I, ‘we have a crimson nirnroot, –’

It was too dark to see what else was in the box: but perceiving glimmers which reflected the distant pinpricks on the vault, I put my hand in. I found a coin or two, – what I hoped for fear of worse, were the wet remains of another nirnroot, – then, at last, after all our treasure-hunting efforts, my fingers fell upon something smooth, something cut, something faceted, –

‘A NEW HAND TOUCHES THE BEACON! –’

[666writingcafe]

House Call

A Text Conversation Between Diavolo and Solomon

Diavolo: Are you awake?

Solomon: Yes.

Diavolo: Where are you?

Solomon: At MC's place...why?

Diavolo: Perfect. We'll be there shortly.

Solomon: Diavolo.

Solomon: What happened?

Diavolo: I'll start from the beginning: I got kidnapped by some sorcerers.

Solomon: WHAT?????

Diavolo: Specifically, Avarius and his group of cronies.

Solomon: FUCK

Solomon: I fucking hate that guy

Solomon: Like he was part of the reason I got kicked out of the Society even though I founded it

Diavolo: Well, he's not too happy about our presence in the human world. He seems to be under the impression that I'm using MC as a weapon.

Solomon: WHAT the actual FUCK

Diavolo: He called them a half-breed.

Solomon: *gif of someone narrowing their eyes angrily*

Solomon: How DARE he insult MY apprentice????

Diavolo: What have you been teaching MC, exactly?

Solomon: ?????

Diavolo: I have my reasons for asking.

Solomon: Well...

Solomon: I've taught them some basic spells and combat moves.

Diavolo: Define basic.

Solomon: You know...the fundamentals. Nothing too complex yet. Not until they have their license.

Diavolo: That's going to be a LOT more difficult now.

Solomon: Why????

Diavolo: Your DARLING apprentice has killed a man.

Solomon: ??????????????????????????????

Diavolo: They along with Belphie helped rescue me, but obviously we had to fight our way out. One of Avarius's people managed to cut Belphie's arm, and MC must have saw it, because the next thing I know they pulled out a knife and threw it with deadly precision into this guy's chest.

Solomon: Well shit

Solomon: That is certainly beyond anything we've done together.

Diavolo: Part of their power comes from their emotions. The rage they felt upon seeing Belphie hurt drew that out. They became a beacon of light by the time we got out of there, and they were ready to head back in there and continue fighting. I was struggling to restrain them, Solomon. I'm one of the strongest demons in the Devildom, and yet it took a lot for me to keep MC from running.

Solomon: Are they okay, at least?

Diavolo: They're currently passed out in the backseat, but they're not hurt. I figured some time in their home would help recharge them. Plus, I do NOT want them around the others right now.

Solomon: Understandable.

Diavolo: I don't think you do, Solomon. The MINUTE we got in the car and started driving, Lucifer called MC's phone, and I had to deal with him yelling at me for fifteen minutes.

Solomon: *laughing crow sticker*

Diavolo: It's not funny.

Diavolo: Like, I know he was worried about MC and Belphie leaving without a trace, but that was because I instructed Belphie to not tell him because I KNEW he would blow up like this if he discovered I was kidnapped.

Diavolo: It's bad enough that the Society is down one sorcerer. If he was there, they would have been down six members, and that might as well be a declaration of war against the human world. As it is, I have to figure out how to explain this to the Society, because in Avarius's eyes, MC's actions have proven his point.

Solomon: But you didn't make MC kill that guy.

Diavolo: Doesn't matter. As one of the head sorcerers of the Society, he has the ability to influence his colleagues into believing whatever he wants them to. If he says that I possessed MC and made them lash out against one of their kind, then that becomes the truth.

Solomon: Is it wrong for me to be lowkey impressed by what MC did?

Diavolo: In this particular moment of time, yes. Just wait until I get this straightened out with some of the more reasonable people in the Society before you start gloating. Please.

Solomon: *thumbs up emoji*

Diavolo: We're almost there. Belphie's going to drop MC and me off at the front door before heading back to the manor. I'll need your help getting MC settled in.

Solomon: *thumbs up emoji*

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick

[reccyls]

Villain's Festival 2024 - Victor's Epilogue

Quick translationof the epilogue you get for ranking for Victor during the election/Villain's Festival event. Just a brief context as well for the actual story, since the epilogue takes place immediately after:

Context:

Crown is in a competition with each other, as Victor decided that whoever steals Kate's heart is the one who will get a bonus from the Queen. Since everyone's been trying to appeal to Kate to win that bonus, she's feeling a little exhausted. Victor calls a brief stop to things and brings Kate away to the lounge, declaring that for the duration of the day, nobody aside from Kate will be allowed to enter to give her a quiet space for herself. Kate thinks to herself that it's very kind of Victor to see that she's feeling tired. However, she also thinks to herself that she feels a little bit... lonely, that Victor hasn't also been trying to woo her. He is a member of Crown and part of the competition, after all, but he hasn't so done anything to try and appeal to her. So she says that she'd like to spend time with Victor in the lounge having tea. She asks why Victor chose this form of competition, making a couple of wrong guesses: it's not because that way the competition will be on even ground (since obviously Harrison would win a poker competition, Liam would win an acting competition, etc etc). It's also not for work purposes, so that Kate has the opportunity to get to know the other members of Crown better. When Kate gives up and asks Victor to tell her the real reason... He leans in to place a kiss on her hair. He says, "This gives me a reason to try and woo you without making any complicated excuses." He doesn't care about the bonus. This kind of competition gives him a chance to touch her, and that's more than enough for him. He moves in even closer and puts his hand on hers, and then asks, "So... who is it that has stolen your heart?"

And now, the epilogue proper:

Victor: "So... who is it that has stolen your heart?"

Kate: "It's..." Kate: "It's you, Victor."

Victor: "Then, may I shower your heart with affection?"

He lifted his hand from mine, and then tilted my chin upwards with the tip of his finger.

Kate: (Ah, a kiss...)

There were plenty of opportunities for me to refuse. If I pushed him away, turned my head, or just said "no", Victor would definitely back off. But I had no desire to refuse. It was as if Victor's gaze had a magical compulsion that made you want to have your heart stolen away. I was unable to look away.

Kate: (If we could gaze at each other like this, if I could see myself reflected in his beautiful eyes...) Kate: (...how happy would I be, I wonder?)

As he drew even closer still, until our noses were nearly touching, I gently shut my eyes. --But, that moment never came.

Victor: ...Just kidding.

Victor suddenly withdrew, and I opened my eyes.

Kate: "Huh...?"

Victor: "Everyone was piling on the pressure, so I decided to try a little bit of appeal myself." Victor: "Being thrown a curveball like that and subjected to such a sudden change in attitude, it looks like you've been charmed."

Victor nodded to himself, as if saying, "Right, of course." He was saying that I had no particular attraction to Victor himself, and had only fallen under his charms due to the situation. It was as if he was emphasizing that I held no special feelings for Victor.

Victor: "...Regardless of who your partner was, whether it is me or someone else, of course someone's heart would start racing in a situation like that." Victor: "I'm sorry for using such dirty tactics."

Kate: "I-it's fine... You totally had me going..."

With such a total and thorough explanation, I had basically no choice but to accept that I had fallen for his so-called "dirty tactics". I began to wonder whether all my budding feelings for Victor were fake after all.

Victor: "As for the question of why I made the rule about stealing your heart... The true reason is..." Victor: "It's because I thought that if you were involved, everyone would really take this competition seriously. You are beloved by everyone." Victor: "I had wanted to see Crown fighting with all their heart for a cause completely unrelated to the darkness of the world." Victor: "But I didn't think that my selfish wish would place such a burden on you. I'm sorry."

Kate: "No, please don't apologize! It's true that I haven't ever experienced the pressure of so many people like this before..." Kate: "...But after hearing the reason, I understand why you did this. It's a very 'you' reason, Victor, because of how much you love Crown."

Kate: (It is a Victor-like reason, true, but...)

...(Flashback)

Victor: "...I don't care about the bonus." Victor: "This gives me a good reason to touch you, and that's enough."

...

Kate: (...As happy as I was to hear those words, I'm also sad that they were fake.)

Kate: "So it was a lie... It would be nice if they were true."

Victor: "...Kate?"

Victor's eyes widened after my true feelings slipped out.

Kate: "Hehe, just kidding! Call this payback for surprising me earlier."

--That was another lie, though. Since Victor had drawn a clear line between us, I wouldn't step over it.

Kate: "And... here, for you."

I handed over my heart-shaped necklace to Victor.

Kate: "I did end up falling for your tactics and my heart did start racing, so it's yours."

Victor: "Thank you."

Kate: "...I was surprised."

Victor: "Hm?"

Kate: "You're always so kind, but you have your own wicked side too." Kate: "It was a shock... but I'm glad to know something new about you."

I had inadvertently fallen for his ploy, and perhaps I had gotten all tangled up. However... More than that, I was happy that I'd learned about another new face of Victor's.

Victor: "...Well then, the next time we have a big group activity, I'll be sure to show you a glimpse of another new side of me!"

Kate: "Just a glimpse?"

Victor: "Playing hard to get is how I can get you to fall for me, isn't it?"

Kate: "Another one of your tactics? I'm not getting fooled again!"

Victor: "I was being serious."

Victor smiled. Regardless of whether it was the truth or a lie, I still felt happy. He'd stolen my heart, and it looked like I wouldn't be getting it back for some time. --What had been offered to the Reaper was a false heart shaped by his own two hands.

[darling-i-read-it]

plsplspls can i request some norman fluff i am hyperfixating on him again 🫶🏼🥲

I was going to write this last night but got tired and have so many thoughts about norman that I wanted to be fully rested. Norman Bates you will always be famous to me bbg

Norman Bates makes me insane

If you want domestic life with a slasher, Norman is the closest you will get in my opinion. Aside from his mother, he truly is just the calmest man who gets anxiety with any kind of flirtation.

Say you meet at the diner when he goes out once. He's the town oddball. The kook. Everyone knows that after his mother died and the highway was moved, everything slightly altered in him

and you move into town and you get a job as a waitress and Norman is the nicest of your regulars. he always comes once a week to get out of the house, never stays for long because he has so much to do, and always gets the same thing.

"Eggs overeasy today Norman?" you tease. His cheeks flush as he goes to correct you, never once blaming you for potentially getting his order wrong.

"Oh u-"

"Scrambled Norman. I know, I was just pulling your leg." He flushes and smiles. He nods.

"Thank you." You maneuvered around him and to the back, dropping off his order. After he had cleared his plate he waited patiently for you to come around with his check. You always came in a timely manor and told him briefly about things that had happened over the week in town.

Today when you came back around, you had a particular smile on your face.

"Your breakfast is on me this morning Norman," you declared. He gave you a confused look. "On one condition." He cleared his throat, nodding for you to go one. "I get to come see your hotel and we have dinner over there."

a DATEEEE??????????

Norman Bates went a deep shade of red and then smiled. He had the most innocent smile on his face, you never would have guessed anything was wrong with him. In the moment he completely forgot about his mother.

he accepted gratefully, saying he would pick things up special. You promised to be by the next day around 5.

you came by the next day and Norman had never seen someone so beautiful. He saw you in your work clothes, your apron usually covered in the muck of your morning.

you were wearing something you thought date appropriate and he had gotten one of his better sweaters out of the back of his closet. One of the ones his mother had gotten for him to wear out.

He was cagey at the dinner.

You couldn't even glance up the stairs. He was already disobeying by having you in the house. But he wasn't cagey enough to deter you from having a good time.

Norman was shy but he had great conversation. All the people who came by his hotel made for great stories. You brought stories from the diner, from before you had moved out there

You noted he didn't have any help out there and he was clearly a busy man.

'Norman have you ever thought about hiring help?"

"Who would be my waitress?"

"I can make you eggs here!"

it was a bad idea. horrible even. Norman knew this but his desire to have you around was so strong, even if it wasn't technically safe for you. How long could he hold his mother back? What if he insured you were always here when someone else was, when there were people in the motel?

He started to try and find reasons to keep you around. Things that needed to be done but not necessarily as soon as he was having you do them.

You helped him paint the outside of the motel. You changed the bulbs in the sign. You got new linens and looked through the logbook for frequent fliers and silly fake names.

Norman couldn't shake it though. His mother would always be there to argue the worst of you. Even if you were helping him and not harming him, even if you hadn't made any actual move.

he wanted to kill his mother. but she was a shut in, she had no one else to help her! he was trapped in a cage of her making, one he could not leave. the dutiful son.

he made the first move. He wanted to kiss you silly since the first time he had seen you, imagining how your lips tasted in shameful nights.

You were helping him in the office. He was back in the parlor while you sat at the desk out-front. You had just checked in a couple, clearly people who were not currently married to each other.

They had used ridiculous fake names. Norman walked back to the front of the room. He looked particularly handsome, wearing a white button up shirt tucked in his slacks.

"If we were fake married, what would our names be?" you questioned. Norman took a bite of the apple in his hand and shrugged. He leaned against the desk.

"Mr and Mrs Disney," he suggested. You nodded slowly.

"Mr and Mrs Flinstone."

"Too one the nose. That show just premiered," he suggested." He looked over your shoulder at the log book. He had gotten so used to having you around, so comfortable with your presence. He liked imaginig the two of you as a married couple. The Bates Motel with two Bates once again.

"Mr and Mrs Disney it is," you teased. You looked up at him and he was so close, his face just hovering beside yours. You smiled cheekily.

Before you had even comprehended it, he had kissed you.

Norman wanted that life. He liked the idea of that life. Maybe his mother would be okay with it if you were married. Maybe he could sway her.

Without even knowing it, you had helped him muster courage to fight his mother. A problem you barely knew existed. You had heard her, you had thought it was weird you had never seen her, but you trusted Norman.

A ring on your finger would be so nice, he thought. So nice.

Finally put a cork in the townsfolks mouths.

Norman took a wife?

[maddogofshimano]

Majima Goro Presents: The Do-Or-Die Beach's Heart-throbbing Scratcher Struggle!

if you’re a Majima fan, you’ve probably already seen the newest Majima card floating around. so, uh, yeah, this is the tie-in event with the sexy summer banner! and it might be a little more picture heavy than usual for NO particular reason! also there’s going to be LORE!!

Summary: The Majima Family has won a bid to run a beach clubhouse for the summer, on the condition that they build it in a single week. The Majima Family is in high spirits though, as this is a chance to finally show off to their boss. A sudden contest declared by Majima dramatically raises the stakes--it’s do-or-die time!

One early summer day, after Majima Goro had launched Majima Construction... The members of the Majima Family arrived at a certain beach.

[chainsaw noises] Minami: Nishida no aniki! I cut all the lumber ya asked me to, I think it's good!

Nishida: Ah! Thanks! Gary, could you carry that lumber over there?

Gary: Roger! Over there!

Nishida: Well then Minami, next if you could do this. Minami: Leave it to me! [more chainsawing] Nishida: ...As usual, our boss is being unreasonable. Nishida: It's really fortunate that we got the rights to manage a beach house, but because of that we have to get it done in just a week. Young Majima Family Member A: Leave all this timber to me! I'll get all of them moved!

Family Member B: Leave all the high up work for me! High up places are my specialty, you see! I can handle it all on my own! Nishida: ....Somehow, there's guys like that who are awfully motivated. I wonder if something's going on... Minami: ...Nishida no aniki! I've finished it! Minami: Ya want me to haul this lumber over to the assembly site? Nishida: Mhm. Over there. I'll help with this once I'm done. Minami: No way! Leave it all to me! I can handle this kind of thing all on my own! Nishida: No way, that's impossible. No one but Gary can handle this size of log on their own...

Minami: Grrr.... Nishida: Eh... seriously... Minami: ....Guhhh..... [Minami makes it 4 steps] Minami: ....Gah!

[and then collapses] Nishida: Minami!? Are you okay!? [and he's back up] Minami: I'm totally okay! My foot just slipped a lil, that's all... Nishida: Well that's good... don't get too reckless, okay? Minami: I won't.... sorry, I just wanna do my best on gettin' this impossible beach house construction job done. Minami: I've been slackin' on all my other jobs just so I'd be in flawless condition and be able to give it my all.... Nishida: Eh? Wh-What do you mean by that? Minami: I want the boss to recognize me already, so that I can make my way up the Majima Family. Minami: But lately with how big that Family's gettin', there ain't been so many opportunities for him to see me out there working my ass off, ya know? Minami: So, if I wanna get promoted quick and be important in the Majima Family, I gotta work extra hard in places like this where the boss can see me!

Nishida: ...I see. But, no matter how big the Family gets, he's still keeping an eye on all of us, don't you think? Nishida: So even if you don't do anything impossible right now, it's fine if you work hard regularly... Minami: No way... I know it's Majima, but even he can't keep track of every member of the family's work... Minami: It's not just me sayin' it either, you know. Other junior members have been talkin' about it. Minami: "If you want to show Boss Majima your real power, your chance should come in a brawl or a raid, but he's always on the front line and handles it all himself before you ever have an opportunity to show him anything good". Minami: That's why everyone's so excited to be here with him watching us directly, even if we had to cut corners elsewhere. Nishida: Ah... now that you mention it, there were some strangely enthusiastic guys here... Minami: You see? And I'm not gonna lose to them, so I'm going to show the boss what I'm made of even if it seems impossible! Nishida: So that's how it is... but... either way, he's not here right now, right? Minami: Eh?

Nishida: Earlier he said he was going to go wander around the neighborhood by himself and took off. Minami: ...S-Seriously!? So he didn't see me at all... Minami: What the hell... so I've been doin' all this bullshit for nothing... Nishida: (You want our boss to see you, huh. It's certainly true that the family has gotten a lot bigger, and it's a patriarch-dictator type system...) Nishida: (And it's unclear on if he's watching and evaluating anyone... no wonder the younger members are anxious about it.) Nishida: (I'd like to do something to ease some of that worry... But what would be good to do?) Majima: Everyone! Your boss is back~! Stop workin' for a bit! Nishida: Ah, rumor has it that he's returned or something. [we cut over to Majima] Majima: Heheheh... Hey guys, come see some of the real nice stuff I bought~! (Tl note: 😳 😳 😳 )

Minami: Boss! What's the nice stuff?

Majima: Gimme a second! What I have here... is these scratchers!!!!

Nishida: Oh, those scratchers! The man in the shopping district had them, right? People around town have said it's very popular due to the great prizes. Majima: And how! On my neighborhood stroll I found a store with a shit ton of 'em! So I bought them all! Majima: These are somethin' that can be handed out at a newly opened beach house... Majima: Combining the popularity of a beach house with the popularity of these scratchers... a sure fire flood! of! customers!

All Majima Family Members: Woooooah~! Minami: I get it... Exactly what I'd expect from the boss! You sure have a head for business~! Nishida: ................ Majima: Heheh, what's wrong Nishida. Is my great idea sooo good that you're left speechless? Nishida: No... it's just... the plan was to have the beach house's opening in a week, right? Majima: ....Yeah. What's that got to do with anythin'? Nishida: .....I'm pretty sure that..... the last day the scratchers can be turned in for prizes is.... tomorrow? Majima: .........Haw!!?? You're sayin'... I won't be able to hand these scratchers out to customers!?

Nishida: ...Y.... Yes sir. Those scratchers... on the back... didn't they write the prize exchange period? Majima: The exchange period on the back...? Majima: ...No fuckin' way! Winning scratchers really do gotta be cashed in by tomorrow! What the hell am I supposed to do with this, Nishida!? Nishida: I don't think I'm the person to ask... Nishida: Wait, that's it! If they're going to go to waste anyways, why don't we hand them out with flyers for the beach house or something? Majima: Dumbass! I paid for all this shit, why would I give 'em out for free? Nishida: Th-That's true~.... Majima: On the other hand, just cashin' them in for prizes is boring... There's gotta be some interestin' way to use them... (Tl note: Majima's beautiful smoky eyeshadow remains. he got the waterproof kind)

Majima: ......That's it! Nishida: .........I have a bad feeling about this. Minami: Eh? Majima: Scratcher! Struggle! Minami: What's a... scratcher struggle? Majima: Simple! I give all of ya a couple of the scratchers, and then ya fight to the death over 'em! Majima: This way, the scratchers get used, I get to enjoy watchin' it, and you all have fun too! Three birds, one stone, right? Nishida: ....Of course it's something like this~. Majima: Ya get to keep whatever scratchers ya steal, or course. And, furthermore! An extra prize! Minami and Nishida: Extra prize...? Majima: I'll be giving the executive position next to mine to whoever collects the most scratchers!!!! [everyone shouts YOSHAAAA!!!] Family Member A: ...Next to the boss.....! Family Member B: Executive position!? Gary: Woah! Let's have some fun! Nishida: The executive position... next to the boss!? So you could become captain from this!? Nishida: Until now the lieutenants were different based on Boss Majima's mood, but... To actually become captain... Minami: ...Becoming the Majima Family captain... this is my big chance...! Minami: ...Nishida no aniki. I'm sorry, but I can't give this fight up for anyone, even you. Nishida: ...That's how it goes. But, I won't lose this. I joined this family so that I could make my way to the top. (Tl note: NISHIDA LORE NISHIDA LORE NISHIDA LORE)

Majima Family Member A: ....I'll be able to show the boss my real strength and climb the ranks... this is a huge chance... I'll definitely become the captain.... Majiima Family Member B: No, it'll be me! I'll become the captain!! Minami: ...The other young guys are real enthusiastic about this. Minami: But I can't lose... this fight... I'm gonna win it! Minami: (In this fight, the person to really watch out for is obviously Gary. Being the former underground martial arts champion isn't just for show....) Minami: (If you try to take him on, it's going to take forever and if you're not that good you'll lose...) Minami: (The other one to watch out for is Nishida no aniki... Fighting isn't his strong suit, but aniki's willpower is incredible....) Minami: (If ya don't know that and try to take him on sloppily, you'll lose as much time as with Gary.) Minami: (To win this, the best plan would be avoiding a fight with either of them....) Majima: Hehe, everyone's got the spirit now! Majima: ....Alright, all the scratchers have been distributed... One last thing before we start! Majima: Since we ain't got a lotta time, this is goin' on for one hour only! During that time, fight to the death over those scratchers! [the music gets intense] Majima: Your life is slipping through your fingers! The beach's heart-throbbing scratcher struggle! BEGINS!! Majima Family: Roooaaaaar!!!!

[EVENT HAPPENS]

[fighting sounds] Family Member A: Guah!

[he hits the ground] Gary: Scratchers have been received! Now, who wants to die mad next? (Tl note: he says 憤死 which is dying in a fit of anger or indignation, keeping up with his not quite correct threats) Nishida: Gary's amazing... Family Member B: ...Nishida no aniki, you couldn't beat him either?

Nishida: Yeah... He got me pretty good. The best I could do was hold out against him. Family Member B: Seems like Gary's the obvious choice in this fight. Nishida: ...I wouldn't say that... Minami: I won't lose...! Nishida: With Minami also giving it his all... who knows. Minami: Haa... Haa...

Minami: ...Gary's collected a ton of 'em. But still... I can't lose this... Family Member C: An opening!

Minami: ....! What openin'... there ain't one!!!! [MInami takes him down] Family Member C: Augh! Minami: Hell yeah! Your scratchers belong to me now-- [the wind howls] Minami: (...! Fuck! All the scratchers he had just got blown away...) Minami: Hey, wait a minute! [Minami chases the scratchers off to some rocks] Minami: (....! If they go past that rocky area there's no way I can get them! I gotta do somethin' to grab them before that...!)

Minami: Aaaaaaaaaa! [a crashing sound] Nishida: M-Minami!? [back on the main beach area] Majima: That's enough!!!!

Majima: Everyone gather up! It's time for the count! Everyone who's got scratchers, get over here! [and back to the rocks] Nishida: M-.... Minami! Are you alright!? You hit those rocks really hard, so... Minami: ...I'm.... I'm okay.... I was able to... collect the scratchers without... inci... dent..... [he collapses] Nishida: M-Minami!!!! [and back to the beach] Minami: ...Has my head stopped bleedin' yet?

Nishida: Yeah... seems like it's stopped. Nishida: Though, the way you charged into those rocks... you really are impossible... Minami: Those scratchers are gonna decide the Majima Family captain... I couldn't bear to miss out on a single one of 'em. Minama: Haa... But, I was able to collect them no problem~. Not collectin' these would have been the real stupid thing. Gary: My two friends! It seems like the results are in! Majima: Everyone! Let's start with announcin' the results...!

Majima: In the end, there were only two people who were able to not only protect their scratchers, but keep collectin' more... Majima: Gary! And, Minami! Majima: So then... Of those two, one collected more scratchers.... Majima: I'm givin' them a position....!! The glorious first prize goes to~~..............!!!! [the music cuts out] Minami: ........

Gary: ........... Majima: ............ Majima: Minamiiii!!!! Ya did it!!!!

Minami: I-I really did it!? ......Woooaaaah! Fuck yes!!!!

Majima: Ya beat Gary by just 5 tickets. You're the winner! Good job Minami!

Gary: OH MY GOD!!!! I was defeated!!

Nishida: ...5 tickets...so bashing into that rock really did it, huh. He pushed himself to the his absolute limit... Majima: ...So then, Minami. Ya feelin' good right now? (tl note: with this art and this particular line of dialogue this is indistinguishable from a porno scene)

Minami: I'm... so happy! I'd gladly give my life to support you and the family! Majima: This position's a big deal. Ya put it all on the line when it seems like I'm watchin', but are ya really qualified if ya cut corners when it seems like I ain't? Minami: Eh...? Majima: ...What're ya 'eh'-ing about. Did ya think I didn't know? Majima: Ya got involved with those chinpira and so skillfully shirked your job, do I have that all right? Minami: I-I'm sorry... The family has gotten so big, so I thought there was no way you'd see that.... Majima: Dumbass! I saw every moment of ya slackin' on your other jobs all so you could go all out on this beach house! Majima: And it ain't just Minami! I saw alllll of you fucks doin' it! Do ya think ya can hide your laziness from me? Whole Family: S-Shit! Majima: ..........Minami. If ya take this serious, then I'm sure you'd do a great job in this real important position. Majima: ...I got high hopes for ya! Ya gonna let me down? Minami: ....Thank you so much! I, as captain... will absolutely make sure you see me meeting your every expectation....! Majima: ..........Haw? Captain? What are ya talkin' about?

Minami: ...Eh? You were gonna make me captain, right...? Majima: That's stupid! Why would I do that! Minami: Eh... but you said whoever won the scratcher struggle... that they'd get the position next you you? Majima: .......Idiot! The position in the beach house!! Majima: I'm the owner, so the next executive position's the manager! I was talkin' about the manager position! (tl note: PUT MINAMI IN THE SUIT GIVE HIM HIS OWN Y0) Minami: M-... Manager....? Majima: Of course! It's a good position, the work is intense!

Majima: The beach house is gonna be open for 2 months... Did ya think it was just gonna lie idle!? Family Member A: Ehhhh..... The scratcher struggle was for the beach house position...? Family Member B: ....So we... beat ourselves to a pulp... all for... Nishida: ...The position next to the boss... was something like that, huh..... hm? Young Member A: ...I thought this would be my chance to show the boss... but we lost to Minami... shit! Young Member A: I better start training so I can win when there's a real opportunity to become captain! Young Member B: ...Yeah. And the boss is always watching, so we can't slack off on our jobs... Young Member A: ...Mhm. We should really improve our value there... otherwise we'll never win against guys like Minami and Gary. Nishida: ............. Minami: ....Nishida no aniki... did you hear that? Seems like I have to be the manager of the stupid beach house... Minami: Haa.... I thought I was going to be captain... But I'm manager of the beach house... Nishida: That's some bad luck, Minami... Minami: Tell me about it... Haa.... But, I shoulda known it wouldn't be that easy to become captain. Nishida: Yeah... But now do you understand that our boss is always keeping an eye on people? It'll be good if you work hard at this manager stuff. Minami: ...You're absolutely right... It's just like you said, seems like the boss is gonna be watchin' how I do my job... Minami: So I'm absolutely gonna show him how good I am by doin' this manager work!

Nishida: Yep, that's the spirit! Nishida: ...That also is exactly what our boss planned. Minami: Eh? What do you mean? Nishida: Oh, just... This seemed like a completely bullshit contest, but somehow it ended up having a positive impact on the family. Nishida: It was a great chance for not only me, but everyone, to understand our personal strengths and look at ourselves in a new light-- Nishida: Our boss was able to get a good read on everyone, the younger member's worries were dispelled-- Nishida: And thanks to all that, it seems like everyone's going to work hard on their usual jobs too... Nishida: ...And I think our boss knew all of that was going to happen. Minami: Eeehhh... Ain't ya way overthinking this? Nishida: ...No, that's what I truly believe. Our boss knows us really well. Minami: ...If you're saying it aniki, maybe that's true. Minami: ...Well, either way, I now know that the boss is watchin' me a lot-- Minami: If I diligently do all my jobs, then I'll be recognized by the boss... and someday I'll really become captain!

[END]

BONUS TIME

I held a poll the day before it ended and was very very close to correct (please forgive my invisible name I was sent to the White Baba zone)

okay here’s the cards, Majima Goro “The Mad Dog of Summer Looks” and Minami Daisaku “The Ruffian of the Scorching Sun”

of particular note, that Majima card has 69,692 HP

the real funniest thing about this lore reveal to me is that I run a yakuza TTRPG thing with some of my friends, and since I needed to have a little more to work with for the Majima Family I was like okay uhhhhhhhh the captain's seat is empty and has been for ages and nobody's sure when that's going to change. also you, player character in the Majima Family, basically just woke up and were told that Majima picked you to be a lieutenant for no stated reason seemingly arbitrarily so I spent all this time waiting to get the Real Lore and it is EXACTLY what I was already operating off of! net zero information, basically!! I love it

[helpinghanikan]

Star Wars: Kinktober 2023

Day 13: Uniform Kink (Captain Rex)

Kinktober Masterlist

Ask anyone attracted to males and they’ll tell you that there is something about clone armor. Whether it’s the traditional white or ARC style with the padding. When they say, “Women love a man in uniform,” You can bet they are thinking about clones.

In your case, you were thinking of one clone in particular.

“This really does it for you, huh?” Rex asks from behind his helmet.

“Uh huh,” You nod enthusiastically.

Rex cleans his armor after every mission in the field. He stood before you in shiny white and blue. The only dirt or damage came from the dents and knicks gathered from said missions. It gave him a kind of character that was hard to find on your run-of-the-mill military personnel. You couldn’t stop yourself from approaching him, looking over his uniform before glancing up to where his eyes would have been.

“Hard to see what’s so special. It’s a standard issue, really.” He says.

Clones seemed to have that common feature of self-deprecation. Those Kaminoans really did a number on the children they’ve raised. It was up to people like you to fix the issue.

“There is absolutely nothing standard about you.” You said, hands on his hips. “I would never date someone so boring as to be considered standard. That’d be the equivalent of dating a politician.”

Rex gives you a warm chuckle in response. It’s a great distraction as you slide down to your knees before him. His hands automatically go to your hair while you spend the next few seconds removing the front cup of his armor.

“Bless the designer of these pants. I’m going to find them and send them a fruit basket,” You declare, sliding your hand through the opening to the absolute prize within. “In fact, I’m gonna send two baskets. And wine.”

“Don’t waste all your credits on me…” Rex warns, his breath coming out heavily. His helmet modulates the sound. If you hadn’t watched him put the helmet on you wouldn’t have been completely sure that it was him under there.

“Why not? You’re worth it.” You say, a kiss to the tip of his uncircumcised cock.

Captain Rex had the kind of cock a woman could worship like a religion. With your lips and spit you could get noises from him that curl your toes and warm the pit of anyone’s stomach.

Your mouth watered from having him just a few inches past your lips. Already you can taste the pre-cum and salt leaking from his tip. That taste only gets stronger as you continue to move back and forth. Glancing up through your eyelashes, getting a glance of that above-standard-issue helmet looking down at you.

This helmet, the last thing that many enemies see, looks down at you at his most vulnerable. When you can finish him off in more ways than one. And the only one you want to have done in that which will have him practically screaming.

[ishkabibblethings]

March 23rd

A fluffy Suits ficlet | Marvey (established) | Rated G "I had your secretary clear your afternoon. It's time we hit up that spa again, especially after the last few weeks." Harvey declares distractedly as he flips through their mail. Mike is still working on his breakfast at the kitchen counter and only mumbles an agreement. A real vacation is out of the question while they're so occupied at the firm, but an afternoon off together still sounds beautiful.

"I'll make us something nice tonight," Mike offers.

"Let's go all in, I'll find us a table somewhere good," Harvey replies and Mike can't find a reason to disagree. Mike secretly suspects that their time at the spa is more for Harvey than he'll admit but he's got no complaints.

"That sounds wonderful. It's been, what, like a year since we had a day like this? Good idea, dude." Mike moves around to the sink to drop off his dishes and pecks Harvey on the cheek as he passes by. "I'll just be a few minutes and we can head out."

"Don't call me dude, puppy," Harvey responds with a grin and watches Mike disappear into their bedroom.

Mike is in the bathroom wondering what it was that made Harvey plan another spa trip. Was his personal grooming slipping? They've been living together long enough but he's heard no complaints. He thinks back to their last trip, and the one before that, just when they'd started dating. It's a rare indulgence, and now that Mike thinks about it, it's always happened in the early spring.

Wait, now that he really considers it, picturing his work calendars, it has happened on this date each time. March 23rd. A knot starts to form in Mike's stomach. Fuck. Some sort of anniversary, it has to be something important for Harvey to move work around for it. Mike searches his brain, picturing every calendar he and Harvey kept, trying to remember similarities and differences, the reasoning behind the repeated treat day.

He must have taken longer than he realizes because Harvey comes to check and see if Mike's ready to go.

"You okay?"

"Uh yeah I'm good," Mike responds and checks the mirror again. He slips on his shoes and grabs his messenger bag.

In the car, Mike checks Harvey over for signs of emotions tucked away - disappointment, grief, frustration - notices nothing alarming and finds himself relaxing just a bit. Nothing he's done wrong, at least. Time to test his hypothesis.

"You know what, Harvey I forgot I've got a thing with Katrina this afternoon. Let's move the spa appointment to the weekend?"

"What thing with Katrina? Your secretary said she could move everything."

"I don't know if it ever made it in the books, she needs help with an in house thing for Louis." Mike bluffs.

"Well I'll encourage her to let you reschedule. It was hard to get these appointments today and you deserve a break." Harvey reaches for Mike's hand between them and laces their fingers together.

"Harvey, what's special about today?" Mike tries to keep his tone neutral.

"Aside from my stunning good looks and charm?" Harvey hams, and Mike actually scoffs.

"That's the same every day and you know it. Really Harvey, what's today?"

"I just want to give you a treat today, can't I do that as your loving boyfriend?"

Harvey's gone playful, so Mike knows he hasn't messed anything up. Harvey is also still avoiding the question so Mike knows he's on the right path.

"Of course you can. And I accept. But when my loving boyfriend happens to want to take me to a spa and dinner yearly on the same day without context, one is driven to wonder."

Harvey chuckles, knowing he's been caught.

"You really thought I wouldn't notice. Me, of all people? Twice is a coincidence, three is a pattern."

"Oh really, smart ass? Think back further." Harvey challenges.

"We weren't dating bef-"

"No we weren't together before that. Think back anyway."

Mike's eye focus on nothing in particular, and Harvey trusts he'll find it.

"The ties. You gifted me ties." Mike's head tilts a little in confusion and it's all Harvey can do to hold back a laugh.

"And lunch too," Harvey offers, feeling generous.

"I don't get it. Harvey, tell me. What's today? Why today?"

"So it started as a stupid joke, but you never caught on so I just kept going with it to see if you ever would." Harvey shrugs like he's almost embarrassed it's become a thing. Mike just watches him expectantly.

Harvey leans until his breath and lips are just close enough to make Mike's ear and neck tingle. Harvey's voice is private and Mike can hear his fond smile. "Happy National Puppy Day, Mike."

[anzynai]

Hello! I don’t know if you’re still taking TWST requests, but if you are, I’d like to request a platonic fic/drabble (depending on what you’re more comfortable with) with lers!Ace and Deuce and lee!Yuu/Reader. My idea is that Yuu’s been feeling kind of blegh all day for no real reason, so Ace and Deuce give them a playful little wrecking to cheer them up. Thank you and stay safe!

A Laughable Solution

Ace & Deuce & Reader (TWST)

a/n: HELLO im so sorry this was like,, super late but i enjoyed writing this a lot! it was a bit of a struggle because for some reason, i really cant get their characters down, but i hope it’s not too bad! besides that, i hope u enjoy <3

summary: see above !!

word count: 1.1k

——

Ughhh. You groaned for the hundredth time that day. What is with you today?

You felt just so.. unmotivated today, and you didn’t know why. There wasn’t any particular reason, but you knew instantly that today wouldn’t be a good day the second your eyes opened that morning. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed and never see the light of day until this mood of yours could pass.

You tried to hide it, but found that even that was hard to do. You were exhausted and your friends, Ace and Deuce had caught on.

You sat in between them at the table in your dorm, your head on the table in your arms. You could hear them whispering, and you knew it was about you when you heard them utter your name.

You groaned again. Much less subtly than before.

“Uh, is it just me or is something wrong with you today?” Ace asked, raising a brow.

“Yeah, you look a little.. upset?” Deuce added, and you peeked at him through your arms, seeing concern in his features. Looking at Ace, he was acting as though he didn’t care, but even you could see that he was a bit worried.

“I’m fine, just.. tired,” You muttered, slowly.

“I’m not really sure I buy that,” Ace replied, flicking his wrist.

“Did someone do anything to you?” Deuce asked, unsure of what to say.

“No, I’m fine!” You rushed, not really wanting to worry your friends even more. “I am just— I don’t know, feel.. wrong today? It’s not for any actual reason. It just.. isn’t a good day,” You mumbled, a little sheepishly.

Ace and Deuce shared a look. Weird. Then, they turned towards you, and you began to feel a bit nervous.

“G-guys?” You stuttered, backing up in suspicion when they got closer to you. You didn’t really know what they were up to, but considering it was them, it couldn’t be anything good.

“Don’t worry! This isn’t gonna hurt!” Ace exclaimed, and he was right, it didn’t hurt; it tickled. A lot. Before you could even move, Ace had latched his hands on you, kneading his fingers to, well, tickle you. Deuce was a bit slower on the uptake, but just as determined as he hooked under your underarms and kept scribbling at the sensitive skin.

“Gahaha! Stohop!” You shouted out, instantly, not expecting to be tickled of all things. The usual Ace and Deuce shenanigans included ways to make you laugh– which, thinking about it, tickling actually made a lot of sense– but not like this! They would tell jokes, do silly dances, and even sometimes, distract you with games or something!

“Stop? We’re just getting started!” Ace said, as he continued squeezing your sides, feeling more excited at every jolt you made.

“Ahahahace! Deucehehe!” You giggled, feeling incredibly embarrassed. Ace looked like he was enjoying every second of this, and when you craned your neck to look at Deuce, he seemed very curious and interested.

“You’ll feel way better after we’re done!” Deuce declared, confidence brewing in his tone. His fingers were almost stuck to you, the way they were unrelentless in the tickling. He would scratch at your underarms and poke and your ribs, and it was evil. You couldn’t even stop your laughter if you tried!

“Plehehease!”

“I don’t know. I think I like this side of you. Don’t you, Deuce?” Ace teased, and you could feel your face heat up at that.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice,” Deuce said, with a small blush on his cheeks, something of a habit of his when complimenting someone. Still, honest as he was, he couldn’t disagree.

When Ace turned to tickling a spot that was especially sensitive to you, you could feel your laughter becoming louder. The two clearly noticed as well. Ace lingered on that spot, and Deuce’s movements faltered, curious to see what Ace had discovered.

“Nohoho!” You cried, squirming in their grasps. Ace chuckled, amused and surprised.

“No way, you’re ticklish here too!” Ace said, mostly to himself, but loud enough to ensure you heard him. Ugh, you wanted to die of shame right then and there.

“They seem to be.. pretty ticklish,” Deuce also noted, and you hadn’t even thought what was happening could get worse! And yet, you found yourself leaning into their touch just slightly. You shook your head when you noticed, because you knew you would never hear the end of it if they found out that you might… actually enjoy being tickled. Even if it was just a little bit.

Instead, you took to fighting them off with more fervor than before. They did, in fact, notice that as they also tickled you with more fervor. Your… flailing and squirming against them didn’t exactly help you at all and you were almost tempted to just give up and accept your fate.

“Heheheey! Stahahap it!”

“Not gonna happen!” Ace responded, his fingers scribbling along your tummy. You tried to suck your stomach in, but amidst your laughter, it was proving to be very difficult. Even worse when his finger started swirling around your navel. You tensed, feeling tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

Deuce’s ticklish assault now on your hips was much more tame, but still added to the torture you were definitely enduring right now! Even then, he looked much more into tickling you than he was before, clearly having gotten comfortable.

“Plehehehease! Ahahaha!” You giggled, slurring your words, feeling a bit delirious. “Mehehehrcy!”

At last, the tickling came to a stop. Not immediately, but their slippery fingers eased up, and finally stopped, leaving you a panting, flustered mess. Gahhh.

“How do you feel?” Deuce asked, a soft smile on his face as he waited for your answer.

“Ah, that was fun!” Ace said, and you narrowed your eyes at him. Wasn’t the point of this to cheer you up? Why did he look more content than you did?

You sighed. “I.. I guess I don’t feel as bad as I did before,” You admitted, but you sat up with a glare. “But, don’t do that again!”

You felt a bit regretful saying that, but admitting you didn’t mind it was definitely too much! Maybe you’d tell them one day, but not today. And, well, even with your words, you were positive that this wouldn’t be the last time they would tickle you. Ace certainly would, considering his reaction.

Deuce and Ace merely chuckled at your reaction, and you pouted. Leaning back on the ground, the two followed. You let out a deep breath.

While tickling might not always be an effective method in cheering you up, it was this time, and that was enough for you. You really had the best friends.

[lavellenchanted]

Otp: I want the whole damn thing & 5?

5. Angry Kiss

“April, what the hell are these?”

Jackson’s voice isn’t quite angry (not yet, anyway), just flat and tight, like he wants to sounds neutral but just can’t manage it; but when April turns to look at him, there’s bewilderment written across his face more than anything else as he stares down at the iPad she has so very stupidly left on the kitchen counter open and with the screen on.

A screen that is currently showing house and apartment listings around Boston.

Slowly, Jackson’s eyes lift to meet hers and she feels a guilty blush steal across her cheeks – which is almost immediately followed by a surge of irritation, because she doesn’t have anything to feel guilty over. And she finds it incredibly galling that he would look at her like that, with his eyes soft and confused and betrayed when he’s the one who –

“I was just browsing,” she blurts out, because she doesn’t want to think about that. Except that she already has, which is probably why she sounds so snappishly defensive. “I mean, I’ve got to look at some point, right?”

“What are you talking about?” His eyebrows are drawing down into a frown, and like a mirror of herself she can see the irritation building in him as well. 

They’ve always been too good at that, reflecting their worst emotions back at each other.

“This was only ever temporary.”

April waves a hand, a gesture meant to encompass not just the kitchen but the entire house. A house they had started sharing when they first moved to Boston because that was easier than trying to find two places at the same time, but which was never meant to be her and Harriet’s permanent home here. Just his. 

Except that it has become her home. Worse, it’s become theirs. It feels like cutting out a part of herself to say it isn’t, but how can she stay now? 

“Did I do something? I know you’ve been mad about something for a while.”

She almost wants to laugh because of course he knew. No one has ever been able to see through her quite so easily as Jackson can. It used to frighten her, the way he seemed to strip her bare and see everything, all her fears and insecurities and hopes and dreams, with just a single glance. It also thrilled her, though she tried to deny that for the longest time.

At this particular moment it’s just making her angry, because how can he know her so well and still not understand?

“No, you didn’t –” She lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not mad at you.”

It’s mostly the truth. Okay, maybe she’s mad at him a little bit, but really she’s just mad at herself.

Because she thought that maybe they were –

But she was wrong. Of course she was wrong. That was made very clear last week, when she saw him looking cosy with some annoyingly long-legged blonde woman at the Foundation. 

Intellectually, she knows it’s not Jackson’s fault. She may not have done anything wrong but neither did he, not really. They’re still divorced, and neither of them have ever mentioned dating or getting back together or anything of the sort. A few lingering looks here and there or flirtatious remarks don’t mean anything. They aren’t promises or declarations.

Still, she feels so stupid that it makes her want to scream with an anger that’s sharp and bright and far preferable to focus on than the hurt drumming at her insides.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Jackson says drily.

April glares at him. “I just thought that it’s about time Hattie and I found somewhere else.”

Jackson’s jaw tightens. “So when were you going to tell me? Or were you going to tell me? Was I just going to come home one day and find you both gone?”

“Of course not! I was going to tell you when I found a place. Why are you so pissed about it anyway? I thought you’d be glad to have some space back. Then you could bring all the blonde friends you want back here without us getting in the way.”

The words have spilled out before she can stop them, bitter and jealous. She bites down on her lip to stop herself saying any more but it’s too late. Jackson’s staring at her, his expression growing darker, and then suddenly he’s striding across the kitchen to stand right in front of her, towering above her so she has to crane her neck to look up at him.

“Blonde friends?” he says furiously. “That’s what this is about? I don’t know what makes me more angry, April, the fact that you saw me schmoozing someone who is considering making a huge donation to the Foundation and assumed I was hitting on her, or the fact that you didn’t talk to me about it and just decided to deal with it by moving out. I thought we were past this, the not talking to each other about things.”

April blinks, thrown for a moment by this new information and desperately trying to ignore the sudden, painful burst of hope radiating in her chest, then feels her cheeks warm as her thoughts catch up to what he’s saying.

“Oh, like you talk to me? If I made assumptions, maybe it’s because we’ve been in Boston for eight months and I still don’t know what you want from me, Jackson! You asked me here but I don’t know if it’s just because you didn’t want to be that far away from Harriet, or if you actually want me around –”

She doesn’t get a chance to say any more because Jackson cuts her off, catching her face between his hands and covering her mouth with his. It’s not a gentle kiss – they’re both still too angry for that – and his lips are almost bruising, insistent, each stroke of his mouth delivered with deliberate passion, like he’s making a point and wants to be very clear about it. 

Maybe he is; she curls her fingers into his shirt and pulls him closer, kissing him back with equal fierceness, running her tongue over his bottom lip and then catching it between her teeth. Her heartbeat is roaring in her ears and she can hardly breathe, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t want to breathe right now. She only wants to keep kissing him, to feel the fire that’s burning through the veins as she presses herself against him and gives in to the hunger and the longing that she’s been trying to bury for months.

Jackson lifts his mouth briefly, tilting his head the other way and between kisses he’s saying, “I want you. I have always wanted you. I will never not want you.”

She brings her arms up to wind them around his neck and whispers back, “I want you too. I want you so much, Jackson.”

Finally, when her head is swimming and her legs feel weak and shaky and like they might collapse any moment they break apart, though she keeps her arms around his neck and he brings his hands to her waist. They’re both breathing heavily, their eyes locked on each other, and April can feel her heart pounding against her ribs.

“I guess we both still need to get better at the talking thing,” Jackson says. “But let me start with saying that I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay here with me.”

April smiles. “Then I’ll stay.”

kiss prompts

[ghostofskywalker]

Our Home, Together

Padmé Amidala/Reader

Fictober Day 24 of 31

Words: 728

Summary: You thought that the Senate would be adjourning in a few days time, but your wife surprises you at home a little earlier than that.

Padmé Amidala Masterlist

The house was completely empty when you woke up, which was to be expected. The Galactic Senate had been in session for the last few weeks, which meant that Padmé had been staying on Coruscant. You’d gone with her in the past, but this time you had decided to remain on Naboo. As a writer you had the luxury of being able to get your work done anywhere in the galaxy before sending it back to your team, but the solitude of the house was sometimes a blessing if you were struggling with a particular piece.

You knew that she would be returning home at some point within the next few days, but that was always dependent on how much the Senate was able to get done. You didn’t often have to worry about your wife, because she knew how to handle things herself, and if there was any kind of trouble (even though you still couldn’t help it), you know that either her or her team would reach out to let you know.

You hummed as you made breakfast, and by the time the caf was ready, the humming had become singing. It was a natural thing you did sometimes, and it helped to keep your mind clear and focused. You could often be found working with some kind of music in the background, and you found that things were just a little easier with it around. Padmé knew about your habit, but had never seen it with her own two eyes, usually because it only happened when no one else was around. Your voice wasn’t the one of a professional by any means, but none of that mattered when it was just you in the room with your favorite song.

You had the music up particularly loud this morning, and your voice carried throughout the house as you went about your day. None of this would be a problem of course, if you were the only one home at the time, which you thought was true.

What you didn’t notice was that your wife had come home a few minutes ago, so you were not the only one in the house.

You heard what sounded like your name when the song ended, and you got up from your desk to see Padmé in the doorway, still in her traveling clothes but without her suitcases. Immediately, you walked over and wrapped her in a hug, relishing in the feeling of her arms around you. “I didn’t know you were coming back already!” you said, leaning in to kiss her.

“I wasn’t supposed to originally, but when I learned that the Senate would be adjourning early I decided to try and surprise you.”

“It definitely worked,” you said with a laugh. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear you, I must have sounded like a wounded gundark.”

Padmé reached down and took your hand. “You absolutely didn’t, and I’m not just saying that because I love you.”

“Come on-”

“Seriously,” she said, and your mouth closed as she continued. “I’ve been living in this house for a long time, and it was always too much for me. I spent most of my time in my Senatorial apartment on Coruscant because it felt more like a home, it wasn’t big and empty and echo-y. But now, ever since you moved in, this house has never once not felt like a home.”

You couldn’t help the way tears started to form in your eyes. “Really?”

“Yes,” she said, leaning in to kiss you lightly. “So coming home today and hearing the music, listening to you sing as you worked before I announced my presence, it made this place feel so much smaller and cozier, and I would never want it any other way.”

You stopped, not sure what to say after such an emotional declaration. “I love you,” was what you eventually settled on, the timeless truth that would always describe the feeling in your heart when you looked at her.

“I love you too,” she said, and you wrapped your arms around her again once more. “Why don’t you let me get changed, and then we can take a nap or something, I’m very tired.”

You smiled even bigger than you already were as you leaned in to kiss her once more. “My love, that sounds like an excellent plan.”

- the end -

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