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[emmaameliamiaava]

Top Tips for Successful Scalping Trading

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[profiteadeveloper]

Ichimoku Scalping Demystified Your Path to Profitability! 2023 Live

[sharemarketinsider]

4 Reasons Why Price Action Trading is the Best

[supermarketfx]

(via Scalping the 5-minute chart | Is this the best forex scalping strategy for 2023?)

[filmsmakkari]

your highness

fred weasley x slytherin!reader

Summary: When Slytherin beats Gryffindor in the final quidditch match of the season, Fred Weasley decides to give the Slytherin princess a little reward

CW: NSFW, semi public sex(?), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praising.

Author's Note- As usual, I had a black reader in mind, so (Y/N) is described as having braids, but that's the only physical description. Anyone can imagine themselves in this fic. Also emmm I have never written smut in my life saurrr... I hope this makes you horny and I'm sorry if it doesn't!

To say that (Y/N) (L/N) hated Fred Weasley would be an understatement.

The Princess of Slytherin was in the prefect’s restroom, trying to wash the red and gold dye out of her hair. The last quidditch game of the autumn term was the next day, and Fred fucking Weasley thought it would be funny to make a mockery of the Slytherin team captain by having Peeves throw ink at her as she tried to run down the moving staircases. 

“That bloody…” she muttered as she roughly scrubbed her scalp. She’d been at it for what felt like hours when the dye finally washed away, and the raven-winged color of her long braids was finally visible again. 

Enraged, (Y/N) stomped out of the bathroom, envisioning ways to get her revenge. In her anger and fantasies of all the means of torture she could inflict upon the irritating prankster, she was barely aware of her feet carrying her down to the ever-calming bioluminescence of the  Slytherin common room. She waved her wand violently, blowing around a stack of papers and knocking over a desk, catching the attention of Blaise Zabini. 

The boy seemed slightly frightened as he said, “Hey (Y/N/N), you alright?”

(Y/N) huffed with irritation. “Oh, I’m more than alright. I’m ready to knock Weasley off his bloody broom.”

-

The Great Hall was alive with conversation. Some students excitedly cast charms, creating fireworks with their house colors and animals, while others feasted on fruits and vegetables in preparation for the big match. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor games were always the most anticipated. The extreme disdain between the two teams brought out the absolute best in them as players. Even if it was occasionally violent, it made for a great game. 

Fred and George Weasley sauntered into the hall with the typical swagger of Gryffindors, scanning the tables and admiring the displays from the students. As Fred eyed the Slytherin table, his gaze fell upon her. There in her quidditch sweater, brown knee-high boots, and a horribly tempting skirt, the Slytherin Princess, who’d earned her title by getting the best grades in her house, being captain of the quidditch team, and being so ridiculously beautiful that even the proudest Gryffindors tried their luck with her, was sitting on the table, locked in conversation with Blaise Zabini and Emma Vanity- the Slytherin chasers.

“Discussing a new and improved strategy for the pitch?” Fred asked, approaching her. “I might as well tell you now, you’re wasting your time.”

(Y/N) turned to him with an eye roll.  “Keep taunting me, Weasel. It’s the most satisfaction you’ll get today.”

“Keep dreaming. Tell me, how’d you like my little gift yesterday?” Fred asked, resting his hands on the table and leaning close to her face.

(Y/N) hummed. “To be honest I’d expected more from you, beater. You couldn’t even do the job yourself. That scared of little old me?” 

“You wish. You’ll see out there today. Tell you what. If you win, which you won’t, I’ll reward you,” Fred smirked.

“Please, what could you possibly have that I want?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Too bad you’ll never find out.” Fred winked and walked over to the Gryffindor table, filling (Y/N) with so much irritation that it made her face hot.

-

Fred Weasley was eating his words.

The match was over before it began, the Slytherin players flying like bullets, (Y/N) ’s strategy working to absolute perfection, giving (Y/N) the perfect opportunity to catch the snitch without hesitation, winning the last game of the season.

The after-party was a blur of green and silver, fireworks, and cheering. One second (Y/N) was being hoisted up in the air by her teammates while they chanted her name; the next, she was playing games with giggle juice and fire whisky with her classmates. The snake lair was on fire with passion and excitement. While (Y/N) was reveling in it all, she had another celebration in mind. While her friends chanted so loud that the paintings were all forced to cover their ears, (Y/N) quickly slipped out of the common room and skipped happily up the stairs with a clear destination in mind.

As the sleeping form of the fat lady came into view, (Y/N) suddenly realized she had no actual plan. She couldn’t get into the Gryffindor common room, and even if she could, what would she do? Find Weasley in his dorm room and slap him? Cast a spell turning all the furniture silver and green to boast Slytherin pride? Steal Fred’s clothes while he was in the shower and- oh. Somewhat embarrassed at how eager she’d been to go to the Gryffindor common room and at how her thoughts kept wandering back to Fred, (Y/N) quickly turned around and began to go back to her dorm but was quickly stopped in her tracks.

Standing before her was the very person who’d been nagging at her thoughts all night. There was Fred Weasley, with dripping wet red hair and no shirt, looking down on her with irritation and amusement.

“Well well,” he said tauntingly, stepping closer and closer to her until her back was pressed against the wall. “Just what is the snake princess doing so close to the lion’s den? Came here to gloat?” Heat was radiating off of him. He was angry about the match.

(Y/N) swallowed, suddenly nervous, her usual Slytherin pride and confidence nowhere to be found. “As a matter of fact, Weaselbee, I’m here to see you. I told you I’d win, I’m here to claim my reward.”

Fred raised an eyebrow at this. He walked over to the fat lady, knocking on the portrait softly. The fat lady awoke with a jump, giving Fred a frustrated glare.  “Sorry about this,” said Fred. “Iced Mice.” The fat lady hesitated. “And just what are you doing bringing her in here?”

(Y/N)’ s bite finally returned as she spoke, “I can show you better than I can tell you. How about a charm for taking the tongues of bad singers?” Fred chuckled at that.

“Why, I never!” said the fat lady as she finally swung open the door.

Fred took hold of (Y/N) ’s hand as he walked in, dragging her behind him.

(Y/N)’ s words were full of venom as she whisper-shouted, “Just what do you think you’re doing, you slimy-”

“Just be quiet for once, princess.”

Indignation swelled in (Y/N) ’s chest, but she obeyed. Though she toothlessly fought back, attempting every now and then to snatch her arm away from him, deep down, she wanted to see where this would go.

Fred dragged her to a dark corner, taking her by her hips and lifting her onto a desk. 

“What the hell are you doing?” (Y/N) asked with a furious look, but there was no bite behind the glare. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was afraid he’d hear it. 

“You came for your reward, didn’t you? You were so desperate for it that you were willing to cheat during the match,” he said, moving her hair and leaning into her ear.

(Y/N) shuddered at the closeness before pushing him away. “I didn’t cheat, Weasley, the hell are you talking about?”

Fred hummed, smoking at her and placing his arms on either side of her, caging her in.

(Y/N) scoffed. “This is ridiculous, I can’t believe I wasted my time coming here. Have a nice life carrot top.”

(Y/N) pushed him again, hopping off the desk and starting to walk away from him, but Fred quickly grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back into him and placing a wet, passionate kiss on her lips. (Y/N)’ s eyes widened in shock as Fred Weasley, the person she hated most since first year, slipped his tongue into her mouth and lifted her back onto the desk. Shocked and confused, she pushed him away a third time.

Fred looked deeply into her eyes, a tendril of red hair hanging over his eyes, making him impossibly more attractive. “Oh c’mon, love, don’t act like you don’t want it too. Like you haven’t wanted it since fourth year when you walked in on me showering after the quidditch cup.”

(Y/N)’s face got hot at the memory. “I hate you. You hate me. I’m the “princess of Slytherin,” remember?”

“Well then, your highness, allow me to serve you,” said Fred, dropping to his knees.

“What are you doing?” (Y/N) asked, her voice shaking as Fred ran his hands up and down her thighs, barely past her skirt. The tight little green dress and those white knee-high socks she was wearing had been driving him crazy since he first saw them, and he wanted nothing more than to see what was hidden underneath them.

“I’m rewarding you, even if you did cheat like a naughty little serpent, somehow I feel like this will be just as much as a reward for me.” He spread her legs wide, getting in between them and slowly peeling back her skirt.

(Y/N) breathed in sharply. “You have tormented me for six years, and now you expect me to let you use me to get off?’ 

“‘M sorry,” said Fred, kissing her thigh softly. (Y/N) shuddered. Fred kissed his way up to her sopping wet heat, muttering “I’m sorries” between every kiss. He finally made his way to her lacy undergarment, placing a soft kiss there. “You’re so wet, darling,” he said, popping his head out and looking at her, “It seems like you’ve already forgiven me.”

“In your bloody dreams, Weasley,” (Y/N) said with an unconvincing scoff. “I’ll hate you until the day I die.”

Fred hummed before quickly dipping his head back between her thighs, sliding her panties to the side, and licking a long stripe through her slick.

(Y/N) let out a throaty moan at the sensation, gripping the desk tightly. 

Fred chuckled against her, the vibrations making her breathe in deeply. “What was that about you hating me, love?” he asked.

“Shut up and get on with my reward, asshole.”

Fred smirked. “As you wish, your grace.”

Fred grabbed her thighs tightly and went to work, taking her clit into his mouth and sucking it like a starving man. (Y/N) moaned loudly before placing her hand over her mouth. Fred looked up at her, his sudden pause making her whimper. “No, no, no, darling. Don’t hide the noises.” He slowly pushed a single long finger inside her. “Let the whole school know.” Another finger. He looked into her eyes with a wicked smile. “Let them all hear how the snake princess let a lion make her scream.” He added two fingers that time and rapidly pumped in and out. And, just as he said she would, (Y/N) screamed. She went to cover her mouth again, but with his free hand, he took both of her wrists and held them in front of her. It burned, but it felt so good. (Y/N) began to move her hips slightly to increase the sensation, making Fred smile. “That’s it, beautiful, good girl. Good girl.” Fred spoke in a way that was almost patronizing. If she weren’t so close to the edge, she probably would have made some snarky remark, but (Y/N) couldn’t think straight as the pressure in her stomach was building up, and the Weasley boy was making her see stars. She let out another loud moan, throwing her head back as the pressure became unbearable. 

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” (Y/N) screamed as Fred’s fingers slammed into her g-spot, and she finally couldn’t take it anymore. (Y/N) let out a scream as she came, barely aware of anything around her. Her vision went blurry as the hot juices spilled out of her. Fred wasted no time re-attaching his mouth to her drenched cunt, licking up her juices until she was clean. “Mmm, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Surprising for such a nasty girl,” Fred said, slapping her thigh, sliding her panties back over, and standing up.

He placed his arms on either side of her, staring at her intensely, his hair disheveled and her cum around his mouth. (Y/N) matched his gaze with equal intensity, her heart pounding, a million questions running through her head. After a few beats of silence, she finally spoke. 

“I still hate you.”

Fred actually laughed at that, shaking his head before looking back at her. “Beat me again, princess, and I’ll give you a better reward then my fingers and my  mouth,” he rasped into her ear before walking off to his dorm room, leaving her with her legs spread on a table of the Gryffindor common room.

“We’ll see how much you hate me then!”

[ediewentmissing]

angst and comfort :(

You jolt up from Eddie’s bed in a cold sweat. You feel gross. Your hands are clammy and your face is wet with tears. As you drift into proper consciousness, visions from your nightmare flicker through your mind; Eddie slowly levitating up and into the air while you’re frantically searching for his favourite mixtape, bawling your eyes out as his bones snap one by one and his body topples in a heap on the hardwood floor.

You start to crying again, sniffling and hiccuping. You go to recite music in your mind, lyrics one by one. Music is your main coping strategy, so this time when it can’t calm you down, you go to your only other source - your best source - of happiness: Eddie. 
The problem was that Eddie just came home from a nine hour shift at the automotive, and he was exhausted. He went to bed almost immediately, throwing himself onto the sofa and drifting goff within minutes.

You didn’t want to wake him up.

You sobbed in bed for a while longer, slowly weighing the pros and cons of interrupting his well-deserved sleep.

Eventually, you told yourself, Fuck it, and got out of the blankets.

The springs groaned underneath you as you got up. It was only then that you realised how torn up you really were. The night air hit your body and you could feel the grogginess floating away, being replaced by sheer cold. You nervously shuffled your way to the living room, shivering a bit.

Eddie’s body lay peacefully on the sofa, sloppily covered by the worn-out blanket on top of him that you offered him before he retired for the night.

You stood nearby, watching his chest rise and fall and listening to his slightly heavy breathing. Although gazing at him was pleasantly calming at first, it soon brought back vivid flashes of the nightmare; screaming, shaking Eddie vigorously, trying desperately to get him to wake up, his empty eye sockets and bleeding face staring back at you. The thoughts make you choke down a sob and Eddie stirs.

“E-Eddie?” You hesitate, but finally being yourself to speak up. He stirs again. “Eddie?”

He hums in response, not recognising the anxiousness in your voice because he’s still half-asleep. You walk up to him, trembling from the cold and from fear and tap his head lightly. You sniffle and he opens his eyes to find you looking terrified. He blinks a couple times to get himself to awaken completely.

He sits up and beings you in for a hug, as you shed tears against his shirt, “Hey, hey, hey. Sh. It’s okay. ‘M here. I’ve gotcha, sweetheart.”

You sit down with him and bury your head deep in his chest, wanting to be held and wanting to feel his heart beat to confirm that he was well and truly alive.

He holds your head and runs his calloused fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp lightly with one hand and holding your lower back with the other. His body is warm. It’s like hugging a teddy bear. It feels perfect against your icy flesh.

He waits until you’ve settled down, your breathing was still hitching regularly, but the sobbing had stopped. He pulls you away from his chest so he can see your face, dotting kisses on your forehead and rubbing your arm.

“What happened?”

“Nightmare…” You pause, “again.” He pulls you in again and rests his chin on your head.

“S-Sorry.” You splutter, guilt suddenly striking you.

“No, no. Don’t be. Not your fault in the slightest.” His voice vibrates against you soothingly.

“Uh,” You look down, separating yourself from him, “Could you come and sleep with me in the bed?” And his big, comforting smile told you everything you needed to know.

[madwomansapologist]

NFWMB | shan yu

Navigation | More Shan Yu | AO3

synopsis: After a tiring day, all you wanted was to sleep. To dream, to rest, until you were ready for another day. You weren't expecting for the turning your night would have.

warnings: fluff then hurt/comfort. chocking. stabbing. violence. torture. murder couple. in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020) yandere!shan yu. female!reader.

It's been a long day. A rough week. Alright, those past few months were complicated.

All you wanted was to sleep. Since you woke up, all your mind desired was to come back to the warmth of your bed. Truth be told, every person you talked to were nothing but a distraction from your tiredness. Travelling with a army isn't easy or comfortable, nor it's to have so many daily tasks.

You have knife combat training sessions at dawn. After that, you need to face the fact that you're still struggling with economics. Don't matter who's your teacher, it always takes longer for you to understand any subject of it. And all those weeks learning about strategy got you a permanent chair during generals meeting.

Even exausted, you did your best. But as soon as the troop's commander gave in to the argument of one of the generals, you understood that you reached your limit.

The perspective of finally doing what you wanted bad, which was to sleep the night away, touched your heart with a expanding peace. Your entire body was numb, nothing in it had enough strength to continue.

In front of your dresser, you struggled to undo your braid. The door creaked, and you didn't need to look to know who was approaching. Shan Yu smells like steel. Impossible not to recognize.

As Shan Yu got closer, you saw him on the mirror. And that ruthless man, a breathing promise of violence to anyone who dares stand on his way, smiled to you.

You let go of your hair, and transferred your attention to the rings adorning your fingers. "Care to help me?"

His cold, forever cold, fingers held the base of your neck. With a tender squeeze, Shan Yu's hands slid down to undo the braid. How can such a big man be so delicate? It will never stop surprising you. How the hand that cuts others is the same that strokes you.

"You honor me, my moon," Shan Yu kissed your scalp. He kept his face resting on you, just breathing in your essence. After a moment, he worked on the pins. Carefully, he took all of them from your head.

Meanwhile, you worked on taking off your earrings and necklace. Lighter than when you entered the carriage, you didn't even realize that you had melted against Shan Yu's touch. This was already a common occurrence. A touch with Shan Yu is never just a touch, it is always something closer to worship.

When Shan Yu first saw you, the end was soon. As he leave you behind, a sweet taste found a home on his tongue. A incessant desire that would never leave him. Now, when Shan Yu touches you, he holds you.

You held his hands, and pulled them towards your mouth. You kissed his knuckles, enjoying the way he too melts against you, and closed your eyes. Silence came, but quickly you decided to break it. "You have much to do?"

"Not until dawn," Shan Yu answered. "Are you going to bed already?"

You let go of his hands, nodding. Shan Yu rested his hands on your shoulders, and his long fingers slid across your collarbone. His affection is always like this, natural. Genuine. "Then can you help me with something?"

"Anything."

Looking into his falcon eyes, you smirked at his eagerness. "What do you think about exhausting me?"

Shan Yu's chuckle was just what you wanted to hear. His fingers tightened on your collarbone, his yellow eyes becoming sharper. "You little devilish thing," he whispered.

You laugh. "Thought I was your moon."

"You are everything," Shan Yu's fingers returned to the base of your neck. They slid through your hair, squeezing. The gesture caused the good kind of pain. "It all depends on your humor."

“Want to find out what my humor is for tonight?” You turned in your chair, now looking him in the face. Your fingers slid over the lace that kept your clothes attached to your body. "Or would you prefer to keep on debating?"

Shan Yu held your fingers, stopping you from continuing. "You're cold," he said. You agreed. "Let me light the fire. Can you wait, my devilish thing?"

And he's right. Not about the devilish part, but about the my. Shan Yu really owns you. Not because he's stronger than you or anything like that, but because everyday you can only chose to be his. The part of you that matters, maybe even the rest, they all belongs to him.

Still, you rolled your eyes. "I'm not sure if I can."

As soon as Shan Yu got out of the carriage to fetch firewood, you ran to the bathroom. Your insides feel all warm and hazy.

You spent a few seconds trying to get your hair to look right. At the same time as you wanted to see Shan Yu's reaction to entering the carriage to find you naked, you also wanted to feel his hands removing fabric by fabric from your body.

Maybe it took you a long time to decide on the second option, because you were approaching the bed when the door opened again. "It was only a joke," you said as you pulled the sheets off the bed. "You didn't need to run."

Shan Yu's silence wasn't something unusual, but as the seconds went furrowed brows replaced the smug smile on your face. Then it hits you. It didn't smell like him.

You were quick to pull the dagger from its hiding place, but so was the chinese soldier who charged at you. In a matter of seconds, your head hit the bedside table and hands clasped your neck.

But you weren't helplessness. As he pushed the air out of your lungs, you stabbed the figure above you. Warm blood gushed over you, but he didn't stop. And because the man didn't stop, neither did you.

The dagger continued to come in and out. Your arm burned, your fingers ache, your throat felt like it was being torn apart: you just kept going.

Until the weight above you disappeared.

For a while you were only able to cough. Holding your throat, as if your hands alone would be able to heal your pain, you struggled to breathe. Your head was spinning, and your body had never been so exhausted.

Then your hearing started working again. And as the shrill whistle faded, the dry sound dominated the place that was once so safe. And the sound, that raw sound, was of bones clashing.

Shan Yu's fists were raw. The skin was torn apart. And no matter how unrecognizable the face of the being that attacked you was, how much he bled and begged for mercy, Shan Yu continued to punch him again and again.

“Shan Yu…” you breathed. Tears ran down your face. "My sun..."

As Shan Yu looked at you, covered in blood and with colorless skin, he stopped.

He turned away from the soldier, and for a moment he was nothing more than a worried animal. His bloody hands held your face, and when you felt his touch... you broke down.

You didn't know what to expect, you couldn't think, you couldn't move. All you did was to sob, shaking in between his hands. You held him, your nails digging on the skin of his forearm, eyes unable to function.

When the soldier whimpered on the floor, you both looked at him. How was he still alive? You stabbed him endless times, Shan Yu beat him until all he could see was red. And he was still alive.

Shan Yu stroked your hair, and that made you look deep into his eyes. You saw a certainty, a determination that couldn't be stopped by anyone. Anyone but you.

"Would it warm you?" Shan Yu whispered to you. The world was reduced to you both. "If the world ended in flames, would it warm you?"

And you understood. As if you both were one. Because maybe you are. Your sun, his moon. Maybe you both are one, and maybe that's why you understood him so well.

"Do it," you told him. But you didn't need to. Shan Yu could see it in your eyes. He saw the moment you decided to agree. "Have your fun."

With a care that no one would expect from a man with bloody fists, Shan Yu carried you to the bed. Not caring about the blood, only about the fact that it wasn't yours, Shan Yu covered you. He kissed your forehead, your lips, your blood-stained hands.

From the ground, the man was lifted up by a Shan Yu burning with hatred. And instead of hurting him, killing him once and for all, Shan Yu dragged him to the healers.

The man will live. Not for long, but long enough. Enough for him to become an example. Enough for him to regret not killing himself when he had a chance.

This time you were the one watching. And Shan Yu does know how to make a show.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[jellyfishsthings]

Warnings: this is going to be a multi part series and it's going to be angsty cause I am in my feels. Female reader, Padmé and Anakin were together but had a healthy break up, Jedi reader so forbidden love.

This story takes plays in Clone Wars yet many events have been changed (like the meeting of Ashoka and Anakin... don't worry the sibling energy is still there.)

series masterlist

Anakin and I don't talk about his confession and what happened on the ship. From the moment we landed we were swooped from meeting after meeting. Jedi councils and strategy meetings while reporting about our mission. And in the midst of it all, we haven't been able to spend time with each other or even see each other.

As I walk from one room to another, speed walking in the halls, I feel an arm grab me and direct me behind a huge pillar, letting my back hit the cold marble.

Anakin's body is flushed with mine as his head lowers, leaning in for a kiss. I draw my head back, resting my forehead against his. “Not here,” I whisper.

“Yes, here.” He whispers as his nose rubs mine as he leans down again for a kiss. Again I do not let him, because I know that one kiss will lead to another and eventually our cover will be blown. “I am sorry Ani, I have to go,” I tell him as I slightly push him off me. I regret the motion the moment I make it but I should head to what hopefully will be the last meeting of the day.

“I miss you,” he says as he tries to casually lean against the pillar he backed me up earlier, but misses as he should have been closer. He stumbles, as I chuckle at him and he simply fires me a cocky smile as he finally manages to complete his smooth pose. And says to me “I guess you could say that I fell for you” with a cheeky smile, as I walk off.

Truly the meeting was a boring mess and couldn't pass any faster. And when it finally did, I headed back to my quarters and promptly fell onto my bed as Artoo came closer.

“What shall I do, Artoo?”

A beeping sound came as the answer to the question.

“About Ani. Why does it have to be him?”

Beep beep bop

“Of course, I love him but …. Truth is I am scared of what will happen.” We both stay silent for a while. I break the comfortable silence first. “I keep seeing these…visions. Where Ani has turned to the dark side…”

Bop beep boop boop

“Yeah, you are right. Ani would never do that but it still worries me. Thank you, Artoo. You are a good listener. That's why you are my best friend.” I say to him as sleep finally takes over.

A few hours later I am woken up by strong arms wrapping around my midriff and a cold nose being buried at the crook of my neck. Still half asleep I turn around in his arms letting our limbs tangle.

“You shouldn't be here. Threepio is going to miss you.” I lightly whisper as my fingers tangle in his hair and I slightly graze his scalp with my nails. He lets out a breathy chuckle as he whispers in my skin. “I would rather be here. I think Threepio can manage.”

Sleep finally finds us in each other's embrace. And that is exactly how I wake up several hours later. The various rays of sunshine that enter the room make him look ethereal as the sun hits his face just right and the shade of his hair seems lighter.

“You are staring.” He says in a sleepy, heavy voice and he peeks through his left eye at me.

“Too bad. Because I am quite fond of it.”

“Oh really?” He whispers as he draws me closer. We bask in each other's comfort for a while until we have to get up and head for our posts but for now, we let ourselves live in the possibility of what every morning could be like.

[freakbabyy]

Deception Chapter One

taglist: @tulipbite @rcarbo1

A/N: it's finally here teehee (as if i dont have ten chapters written out rn)

Word Count: 4091

Mood board | Prologue

“Alright ladies, form a single file line! When you get to the front of the line, you will present your letter of conscription. After you do that, you’ll be told what dorm room you’re staying in for the next six months,” The soldier up front’s grin widened even more at the next sentiment. “That is, if you survive them.”

The front of the line had about five different soldiers already in full uniform, each with a new recruit going over their paperwork. The line went surprisingly fast, until I was next. Taking a deep breath in and out, I tried my best to adjust the cloth around my breasts. I had tightened too much this morning, apparently.

“Next.” I stepped forward, handing Finn’s - my letter to the mustachioed guard, and he ran his eyes over for a few seconds before placing it in the pile on the table, and instead handing me a key. “All set, Ambrose. Dorm five, bed three.”

I nodded, hiking my backpack up higher on my shoulders before stalking towards the dorms, which were actually just shacks. Each had clearly seen better days, most were ragged from the weather. Most likely from the brutal winters we would get.

Walking up the steps to the fifth cabin, I opened the door that was already cracked and closed it behind me. A few others had already been in the cabin, and it looks as if there were three sets of bunk beds. Each had a trunk beside and in front of it. I opted to take the top bunk since there was already someone's stuff on the bottom one, and put my bag down on top of the trunk beside it.

“Looks like we’ll be sharing a bunk,” I twisted my head to look at the guy on the other side of the bed, apparently already putting stuff into his trunk. He stuck his hand out, and I really took in his features. “Alaric Godfrey.” 

Short black hair, cut down to nearly his scalp, with striking green eyes the color of grass in the summertime. He had round glasses on as well. He reminded me of a hawk with the way he was staring at me.

“Finnigan Ambrose,” I shook his hand, nodding once firmly. “And it looks like you’d be correct.”

“You’re alright with the top bunk, right? If not, we can switch.” 

“Yeah, top bunk’s fine. Thanks.” I turned around, starting to unpack my bag as well, folding my clothes into the trunk. “Where’re you from?”

“Riodum. It’s by Spring.” I had heard of it, it was a big trade village. “What about you?”

“Mifflin. It’s by Winter.”

“I know it, the main road goes through it, right?” I nodded, “Clearly we’re both a long way from home.”

Before I could come up with an answer, the front door had opened and a soldier walked in. Or rather, maybe another recruit based on the plain clothes. “General wants everyone in the training grounds by nine.” 

“Are we training already? We just got here,” Another guy in our cabin asked once the guy had left, probably off to tell the next shack.

“Doubt it. Probably just a ground tour, and to go over our schedule for the week.” Alaric spoke up, and the others agreed, before we all started making our ways outside. Better early than being late.

The training grounds were right beside the cabins, just a few meters away. Most everyone was already here it seemed, probably having the same sentiment I had earlier about being early. A whistle sounded up front, which halted everyones conversations. A few men were up front, all wore signature red hair and spotless fine clothes. Vanserra’s.

“You all already probably know us, or at least have heard of us. If not, then you’re already at a disadvantage. This is my brother Leo, he’ll be teaching you strategy every other day in the afternoons starting tomorrow.” He gestured to the shorter brother, slightly wavy hair pulled back with a single hair tie. “My other brother, Eris, is the general of the armies, you’ll rarely train with him. However if you make it past week ten, you’ll see a lot more of him.”

“I’m Magnus, I’m in charge of training you lot; so don’t make me look bad. You train with me everyday learning the basics starting at six in the morning sharp. I find out you are late, you run laps until your miserable legs give out. On days you do not train with Leo after lunch, you will be with me once more, learning weaponry. You all will be split into two, cabins one through fifteen you’re group one, cabins sixteen through thirty you’re group two. Schedules are posted weekly at the mess hall”

“The training grounds you’ve already found, congratulations.” Leo took up the rest of the speech they’ve no doubt practiced, “Mess hall is where you get your meals, breakfast starts at five, lunch at noon, and dinner at eight. That is when you’re dismissed from the night.”

He had pointed across from the cabins, to where a larger building was, with some tables and chairs outside, for if anyone chose to eat outside. Then he pointed to the furthest cabin, and on the other side of it was another, slightly larger cabin.

“That is the infirmary, I trust you’ll all find it at one point or another. If you don't, that means you aren’t training hard enough.” Turning back to us, he pointed at a large wooden sign on the side of the mess hall. “Speaking of training hard enough, everyday we put up new ranks during dinner. If you fall below the red line, you’re done. You get sent home, you can’t be called upon again to serve the high lord, and you will not be reimbursed for your time here. Ten people will be cut every week on the last day of the week.”

Murmurs took over the crowd, until another whistle made everyone stop their chattering. This time the general stepped up and spoke, when up until now he seemed bored; as if he had better things to do.

“If you have a problem with it, you can leave now. You aren’t at a ball, you’re training to be warriors. Highly skilled, trained warriors. Only 42 people will graduate, that is a promise. As you all know, those 42 will be split into groups, and each group gets an assignment for life.” He looked around, daring anyone to speak up, or even move. “Top squad gets to be assigned to the high lord. You work as sentries for his residence. Next squad gets to be captains for the warriors on the battlefield. Then it’s patrol duty, one to the north, south, west, and east. The most sought after position is traveling duty. You travel throughout Prythian on business for the king.”

You could hear a pin drop after that speech. Sure, it was common knowledge that not everyone who got conscripted finished training to be a part of the guard, but was it needed to be so harsh? You’d think the more guards the better, so why would they cut down on soldiers? It didn’t make sense. Men were stupid.

“Dismissed,” Magnus called out, as the crowd dispersed. “Don’t forget about training tomorrow.” 

This was going to be a long next few months.

—

“Rise and shine, newbies!” A voice broke the peaceful morning air, along with a harsh knock on the door. Magnus. “Breakfast in ten!”

Groaning, I rolled out of bed, stretching my back from the hard mattress, and grabbing a few things from my trunk before rushing to the bathroom, which was the only other room in the cabin. I pulled off my night clothes before putting on the cloth wrap, making sure it was a bit looser than before, and putting on the rest of my clothes for today.

Exiting the bathroom, it was immediately taken by the guy who sleeps in the bunk beside me, I think his name was Bard? Either way, everyone else was already getting dressed, and I had to avert my gaze as I tried to cool my face down. Clearly I would have seen a few cocks, bunking with five males, but everytime they got dressed, did they have to practically wave them around?

I wasn’t a virgin by any means, being three hundred years old, but that didn’t mean my face didn’t still heat up from the sight. Tossing my sleep clothes into my trunk along with my toothbrush, I brushed through my hair with my comb before tying it up with a band Alaric had offered me.

“I’m not used to shorter hair.” I gestured to the tied up hair, which was already falling from its restraints. “I cut it before training.”

“Same here. I think most of us did, except for Bard over there.” Alaric nodded towards the male who was now braiding his hair back, quite well in fact. I could never do it that well, wasn’t sure my youngest sister could either, and she loved braids.

“What about me?” The ginger with a partially done french braid turned, raising a pointed brow. “Hopefully nothing bad.”

“Not at all,” I waved off, offering a band from the bag Alaric had, to which he said thanks. “We were just saying how it seems everyone cut their hair before coming here; aside from you.”

“Ah, this?” Bard laughed, as if it was the funniest joke he’s ever heard. “I did cut my hair as well, it was a lot longer. Turns out training has rules, no hair below the waist. Something about the professionalism of guards and recruits.” 

“How long was your hair, then?” Alaric questioned, all three of us making our way to the mess hall, shivering a bit at the cold frost from the crisp spring morning.

“Oh, about down to my knees if it was down. My mother never had a daughter, she always loved braiding my hair, so I let her. Therefore, I never cut it. Not in my four hundred years.” Bard shrugged, grabbing a plate and looking for a seat. “Mind if I stick with you two?”

“I don’t mind.” I replied, grabbing a plate as well, questioning what exactly was in the bowl in front of me.

“I’ll never deny a potential friend. I’m Alaric Godfrey, that’s Finnigan Ambrose.” Alaric shook his hand, as I did the same.

“Bard Tomas,” We all sat down at a table, as another voice spoke from beside us,

“Did I hear your last name is Ambrose?” The male a few seats down questioned, scooting to sit across from Alaric and I. “Which one of you’s Ambrose?”

Bard sipped his tea, raising his eyebrows in question at the new presence; A brown haired male, with curls so tight they seemed to bounce everytime he moved. His eyes however, were the color of robin's eggs. 

“I’m Finnigan Ambrose, yes. Do I know you?” I prayed to the cauldron this wasn’t one of Finn’s friends, or else I’ve already outed myself day one.

“No, not at all. Though I knew your father, well, knew of him. My father was in his squad actually, they used to be friends from what he spoke of. Is it true your father used to knock people out with a single touch?”  He seemed to be rambling, so fast in fact I barely got what he was saying.

“Yeah, he um - he studied pressure points in the Day court when he was a child. He grew up there, afterall. But certain spots on the body, if pressure is applied there, you’re knocked out like a light.” I explained, shoveling a bit of the gruel into my mouth, before speaking around it. “I didn’t quite catch your name, or your dads name; maybe I’ve heard of him?”

“Jasper Jesper, and my fathers name is Niander Jesper.” He took a bite of his own gruel, nearly gagging at the taste, “Sorry, does your gruel also taste like the underside of a rock?”

“Unfortunately,” Bard spoke up, introducing himself. “I’m sorry, your parents named you Jasper Jesper?”

“Unfortunately,” Jasper copied his earlier reply, “You should hear my full name, it’s much worse.”

“I doubt that.” Alaric spoke up, raising a brow.

“Jasper Jaxson-Julian Jesper.” Alaric’s tea spewed from his nose, as he began coughing.

“There’s no fucking way,” Bard cackled, “Why would your parents curse you with such a tongue-twister name?” 

“Honestly? I ask them that everyday.” Jasper laughed, “They say they liked the rhyme scheme. All of my siblings have the same curse. My sister’s name is Josephine Juliet-Jane Jesper.” 

“As silly as it is, my parents also liked the rhyming thing,” I offered, finding it a bit endearing. “I have a pair of siblings, twins, Dorian and Florian. Then I have a twin sister named Winifred, they call us Winn and Finn.” 

“My parents call me JJ, but my sister's nickname is just Jo.” Jasper added, just as chairs started scraping against the floor, signaling time to go to training.

“You guys wanna stick together? We can all practice together, that way when we have to spar we won’t get random people.” Alaric questioned, all of us agreeing. 

“I was just about to suggest the same thing,” Bard smirked, “No one likes being the loner at school.”

The training grounds were empty, aside from the recruits and Magnus. The sun was barely breaking the horizon, frost still coated the ground. I had wished I wore long sleeves, as did everyone else most likely.

“Good morning, recruits. Wish I could say it’s a pleasure seeing you all this early, but I haven’t had my morning cup of tea yet.” Magnus walked back and forth, taking in everyone one by one. “Today we’re testing. Everyone will do different tests, and I’ll be recording your times. We’ll check in the first of each month, to see strength improvements. First up, is running.”

At a snap of his fingers, a flag appeared in the dewy grass, flowing slightly in the breeze.

“You’ll all begin at this flag, I’ll record everyone's times as they pass. My second in command, Aslan, has some of his guards stationed around the path, so we’ll know if you use magic in any way. Which will result in immediate termination, by the way.” Magnus stood to the side of the flag, a servant holding a tray of tea beside him. “Follow the flags, they’ll lead you through the forest path you’ll be jogging down.”

He graciously took the cup of tea offered by the servant, and took a long sip. He sighed in content, before looking at all of us once more.

“What are you waiting for?” He took another sip of his tea before pointing to the air, and firing a ball of, well, fire. “Go.”

My legs went into action before my mind did, and I was yanked back by Alaric, who also grabbed Bard, who grabbed JJ.

“Jog, don’t sprint. You’ll run out of energy faster sprinting. Jogging you’ll conserve it for the entire run. Plus, the more we build stamina, the more endurance we build, the faster we can jog later on.” Alaric nodded towards those who were sprinting, already through the forest bend. “If you sprint, you’re gonna end up in the back by the end of it.”

“That makes sense,” JJ panted, out of breath already; although I couldn’t judge - I was too. “Take it slower, outlast the others. I like it.” 

“Good thing we have a strategist in our little group.” Bard gasped, clutching his side. “I shouldn’t have skipped physical activity in school. Or outside of school.” 

“Same,” I agreed, feeling the same pang in my ribcage. “Who does this for fun?”

“Psychopaths.” Alaric scanned the area, sweating through his shirt already.

About a half hour later, they were still steady in their jog. All of them were covered in sweat, gasping for the cold morning air. They’ve passed nearly half of the people who started the run off sprinting; proving Alaric’s point.

“Halfway, recruits! Hustle, people, Hustle!” An important looking guy with a clipboard shouted encouragement, he must have been the second in command, Aslan. His hair was blonde, speckled with grey hair. “Come on Ambrose, Jesper, I expected more from you! Let's go!” 

“Cauldron, that was unnerving.” JJ puffed out, as I nodded, agreeing. Why did he look familiar?

“I might just drop out,” Bard groaned, stopping off to the side, as we did the same, to wait for him. “You guys don’t have to wait for me.”

“We’re friends, we established this earlier, we stick together.” Alaric panted, his hands on his knees. “Just - take a deep breath or something.” 

“Gee, thanks, Mr. Muscles, I didn’t think of that!” Bard glared at Alaric, as he held his hands up. “Okay - Okay I’m good. If I don’t go now I won’t get back up.”

Once more we took off jogging, this time a tad slower. My feet ached, my legs burned, and I swear I could feel the cloth binding my breasts chafing. Not to mention the angle of the sun now burned my eyes.

“Why did you guys get conscripted,” JJ asked, nearly wheezing.

“What do you mean?” Pushing my hair out of my face again, I looked at JJ for a second, before turning my head back forward, not wanting to trip on a branch on the ground. “It’s randomly selected, to be conscripted.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t regular conscription.” Alaric answered, “This is the conscription for the royal guard, we’d protect the high lord and his family, the ‘traveling’ position even more.” 

“Why’d you put air quotes around traveling?” Bard spoke up, brows furrowed.

“Because the traveling position isn’t a traveling guard, it’s strategy - spycraft. It’s why we all get background checks and intense training.” He motioned to all of us, “No one gets to train here without being picked for a reason.”

“Ambrose and I were chosen from our parents, I’d bet. I applied a few times as well.” JJ answered, wiping his face with his tunic.

“I didn’t apply. I didn’t even want to be conscripted.” I nearly growled out, “I was supposed to be taking care of my sick mother, when those guys showed up. Told my sisters if I didn’t show up I’d have my family executed.” 

“That’s…” Bard started, “Dark. Unusual as well, usually they’d take no for an answer and move onto the next person who made the list. That’s how I’m here; someone changed their mind. I wasn’t accepted until a few days ago.”

“I always wanted to be a spy, my mother was a spy before she died.” Alaric admitted, “I’m only here for that.”

“Then I guess we’re going to be spies,” Bard joked, “Friends stick together, right?”

“I’m in,” I went along, smiling wide, wetting my lips before wrinkling my nose at the taste of the sweat beaded there. “I always enjoyed sneaking around, playing hide and seek with my siblings.” 

“Then I suppose I’m in, too.” JJ shrugged, “I don’t see myself as a captain in the army anyway.”

The last flag was just in sight, it was where we started. We must have gone in a large circle around the entire property. About twenty people were sitting in the grass at the finish already, and Magnus shouted our times as we crossed the threshold.

“Ambrose, 96 minutes!”

“Shit,” I cursed as my legs gave out in the grass off to the side. “I’m so glad that’s over.”

Thankfully they had about fifteen minutes to recuperate before the last person finished and Magnus spoke again.

“Alright ladies, now that the warm ups are done,” A series of groans overtook the courtyard. “Onto strength tests. Get into a block, fifteen lines, and when they get full go behind the person in front of you. You’ll be in charge of writing down your scores. Get ready.”

Moving to follow instructions, I was in the middle, my new found friends beside me. The other soldiers present passed out a parchment paper, each soldier then was poised at the end of a line; presumably to stop any cheating.

“We’ll be doing sit ups. I will say when you all sit up and then lay back down. Do not go any slower or faster. If you cannot sit up anymore, you record the amount you completed, Any questions?” Bored eyes scanned the rows of recruits, daring anyone to even question him. “Positions. 3…2… Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.”

I had gotten to sit up number 43 before I felt a stomach cramp, and swore softly - writing down the number on the paper before sitting up and looking around. Nearly everyone was still in. I had to push myself in the upcoming tests if I wanted to stay and earn money for my family.

“89 sit ups - Jeremiah Bayard. Next up planks. Everyone must stay in position, no bending the knees, and you must stay level. Each guard on the row will shout the exact second he sees one of you fall or give up, you’ll write down the exact time he says,” Sipping on more of his tea, or perhaps coffee now, he pulled out a stopwatch, as did the guards around us. “3…2… Begin.”

The first few seconds weren”t so bad. After second thirty my limbs began to burn. Was I really this out of shape? It didn’t matter, I had to fight it, I had to keep going. Not for me - but for them. I had to do my part to help my mother; I had no other choice. If I failed at this, how could I even begin to try and help her? What would it say of my character - of who I am?

I had to block it out. I had to block all of my thoughts, even those of my family - I wouldn’t survive if I didn’t. Just think of nothing, of the grass below my fingers. The sun beating down on my back. The slight breeze that blew my tunic hanging off of me.  

“Finnigan Ambrose, three minutes twenty two seconds,” I cursed, falling flat on the grass for the second time this morning. However, when I looked around I saw that everyone else was done.  “Next up are push ups. You know the drill. Positions - 3…2…Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up.”

Falling flat for the third time, and this time spitting out grass - I got to twelve push ups. Twelve. I was not out first this time, though. Bard was. He caught my eye and shrugged then held up two fingers. He had done two push ups.

“Alright, this time, each line is going to follow the leader to one of the fifteen soldiers in front of me, they will use a stopwatch to count how long you can do the dead-hand. You will hang onto these bars, dangling until your arms give out.”

Thankfully I had loved climbing trees as a child, so hopefully I wouldn’t be the worst at these. Though my arm strength with push ups wasn’t good - hopefully it was a fluke. Nope, not a fluke. I didn’t last a minute, I immediately fell off of the pole, and looked in shock. I was going to be sent home.

“Dinner time. That means you sorry lot are done for the day. We’ll tally up your scores and post them by the time dinner’s over. Good luck.” 

“Shit-” JJ was the first to speak, finding the group of us already sitting at the same table as this morning. “Did we get lunch? I can’t remember.”

“Nope, we got done with the run after lunchtime, those who finished after lunch time didn’t get lunch.” Alaric explained, nearly inhaling his stew.

“Not fair, how were we to perform to the best of our ability if we didn’t get lunch?” Bard complained, rubbing his arms.

“I don’t know, luck?” Everyone started getting up now, rushing towards the door. “Where’re they going?” 

“Scores are up.” A passerby filled us in, and we stood too, putting our trays away first. It took awhile until we were able to read the board, and I went down the list starting at the top. Then the middle. Then the bottom.

“Shit.” I swore, my name was fifth last Rank 197. The only consolation was Bard was dead last. “I’m going to get sent home. The first week. This is embarrassing.”

“You said it, brother.” Bard groaned.

[with-love-from-hell]

How they comfort you after a nightmare

Fandom: Obey Me!

Genre: headcanon, comfort

Charaters featured: the brothers

Written for a GN!Mc (you/yours)

Cw: nightmares, panic attacks, anxiety

A/N: I'm up because I had a horrific nightmare and I'm just here calming myself down and trying to stay awake bc I'm too terrified to go back to sleep so I'm thinking of how each brother would comfort their Mc after something like that.

Lucifer

Absolutely wakes up the minute he hears you whimpering in your sleep and tries his best to wake you.

Will carefully wrap you in the softest hug to calm, pressing kisses to your shoulders and whispering soft reassurance that you're safe in his arms

Will probably run a hot bath or shower just to have the sensation wash away any lingering feelings or images from the nightmare (will also hold you the entire time and delicately wash you as he does)

He will let you word vomit the dream to him if you want, he knows sometimes sharing the disturbing images that plague your dreams can help lessen their impact.

If you're too scared to fall back asleep, he will stay awake with you and cuddle.

He'll also play some soothing records and bring you your beverage of choice to relax with

Will offer a game of chess or another strategy game to get your mind off the dream

Will probably involve Barbatos and Belphie to help resolve your dream issue if there is something that can be done about it, because dammit he hates seeing you in pain.

Mammon

He will probably wake up as you're whimpers turn louder and you jolt awake with a scream.

immediately pulls you into his arms and hushes you, reminding you to breathe and reassuring you that he's "got ya."

Will ask if you want to talk about it after you calm down. Hes no stranger to nightmares so he knows sometimes taking about it can ease the pain of them.

Will offer to take a walk with you- no matter how late at night/early in the morning it is, and no matter how tired he is.

If you're too afraid to sleep,, he will offer to distract you by talking your ear off about random shit, watching a goofy movie, or playing a round of cards or pool.

Will gather your favorite comforting junk food to snack on while you do any of these things

He will also try his best to Lull you to sleep by humming and either rubbing your back or massaging your scalp- whichever you prefer

Levi

He is startled when he feels you writhing on top of him, but can recognize you're caught in a nightmare

He will do his best to gently wake you, but he's nervous, so his shakes may be a bit rougher than he intends

He will hug you until you calm down, and may even turn into his demon form to wrap you tighter with his tail for good measure.

He will offer you any plushie or body pillow you want from his collection to comfort you- even the ultra rare ones that only he is normally allowed to touch

Will turn on a video game and play with you, or watch a silly or juvenile anime to help distract you from the dream.

I hc his jellyfish and aquarium lights can change color, so he'll set them to whatever color you find the most soothing (or turn them to an fading pattern so they change colors slowly)

He may even offer to sneak out with you for a late-night/early-morning swim if you catch him feeling especially confident.

Satan

He's probably awake when you start to become restless and whimpering, but he knows that waking up someone from a nightmare can be like waking a sleep walker, so he's very gentle in coaxing you out of the dream.

Will absolutely hold you on his lap, rocking you as you come down from the panic.

Will offer to read to you to distract your thoughts from the dream, and also make you some soothing tea to sip while he does

He will also offer to take you out and pet the cats in the garden as an additional distraction

Makes his bed more comfy for you by stealing blankets and pillows from around the house, creating almost like a fort

He will also hold you in his arms and recite some nice haikus or other poems to you while you try to go back to sleep.

Asmo

Up in an instant due to how light of a sleeper he is and already knows what you need after waking you.

Immediately cupping your face while kissing away your tears

Will draw you a bath and sit in with you while you relax in the basin, as well as play some soothing music and put some nice chamomile and Lavender in his oil diffusor

Get ready for a full on massage and watch the tension from the dream melt away.

He will also get you a nice face mask and give you a gentle mani/pedi

Will give you as many cuddles as you want throughout the night, and will make sure to forgo his routine just this once to ensure you sleep peacefully

will also sing to you to help you sleep if you ask him to!

Beel

Immediate bear hug and begging for you to wake up as he easily recognizes the signs of a nightmare

After you wake up he is reassuring you that you're safe with him, but he knows the pain of nightmares well and how he wishes he could be in your dreams to protect you too.

Will take you to the kitchen and make whatever comfort food you want- even if its a whole fucking meal.

Encourages you to drink a lot of water due to how dry your mouth probably is after breathing so hard.

He will offer to have you accompany him for a early workout to distract yourself (don't worry, if you're not into running you'll be carried on his back)

He will also offer to watch a movie with you or even just do some baking as a distraction.

Calls on Belphie and Lucifer to help with any recurrence of nightmares, wanting to ensure your slumbers are stress-free.

Belphie

Sleeps like a rock so you'd probably have to wake him up and tell him you had a nightmare.

He's familiar with nightmares, but doesn't have them often due to his powers. He has also helped Beel with his nightmares in the past though.

Immediately pulls you down under the covers with him and caresses you gently. Reminding you his arms are safe now and that the dream isn't real.

He's down for a video or board game as a distraction, but may doze off here and there despite trying his best to stay awake.

Would wake up Beel so you have extra support, and will probably offer to watch a movie together as a distraction for you.

Will offer to enter your dreams any time for you to ease the nightmares, depending on how frequently you get them.

[emmaameliamiaava]

Scalping strategy - How to profit from small price moves

The scalping strategy involves making profits from frequent trades made during the day. Learn how it works and what its techniques are to make gains.

[profiteadeveloper]

Forex Scalping EA Robot Bot | Advanced Automated Trading for Rapid Profi...

[belit0]

2000 Word Commission (Uchiha Madara / Fem Reader) @moroseu

"I was wondering if you could write Madara falling for reader who was one of the many shinobi he had to fight during the war era. He never had the chance to actually act out on his feelings until the creation of Konoha, where he saw her for the first time outside of combat, during a diplomatic meeting of sorts. She is not wearing armor, she seems a lot more gentler unlike on the battlefield and for the first time, she greets him with a smile. Who will make the first move!? Will he chase after her when the meeting ends or vice versa!? That will be left up to you!"

As I was editing this, I noticed how I changed the meeting situation and got an angry Madara instead, I just hope you like it, my darling Roseu💕😭🙏 Thank you so much for always trusting me with your amazing ideas, I feel truly honored🛐💫

EACH COMMISSION COMES WITH AN EXTRA SECRET SCENARIO, THAT I UNIQUELY AND ESPECIALLY ADD FOR THE BUYER. (I'll leave you an example of it at the bottom, but in Spanish, so you don't cheat.)

KO-FI COMMISSIONS

 Madara is angry, in such an intense and terrible mood that makes him look like a hedgehog poised for a fight. Those who know the Uchiha usually avoid getting close to him in this state, aware they will get nothing but a threat and at worst, a glimpse of the Sharingan.

Obfuscated on his desk he tries to read Hashirama's indecipherable handwriting, whatever he tried to explain in the document he left for him. Peaceful times brought out the worst in everyone, and while the Senju leader stands out as the shinobi god, he has no freaking clue about what he's doing in office terms.

Madara, adopting the position of Shadow Hokage, spends more time between trips and physical negotiations than sitting behind a piece of wood, but every time he has to deal with his best friend's errands, his blood boils inside his body.

Is this motivation enough to start another war? Maybe…

"The... a-village of... con-no.oga? What the..." He sighs to himself, abandoning the document on the table and leaning back against his chair. One hand travels to his hair, running through the completeness of his scalp anxiously, and the other to his face, wishing he could disappear into the darkness his gloves provide.

He could ask for help, interpretation, or assistance, were it not for the fact that both Senju brothers decided to disappear altogether, leaving him with total responsibility for the situation. Izuna? Of course not, he doesn't count, he is more of an enemy than an ally when it comes to administration.

With his eyes still covered he remembers those times when everything was simpler and complicated at the same time, where the paperwork was not important and the only decisive thing was blood, sweat, and effort. His body tends to miss those scenarios where it was a matter of killing or getting killed, when the only meaning was to protect his own and to return home with as many as possible, to make sure that Izuna was safe, that the family was still complete.

War times were as terrible as they were wonderful, moments where only Tajima had to deal with annoying elders and combat strategies, Madara being a free young man with the only goal of bringing the Senju heir's head in arms and presenting it before everyone as a symbol of power.

Of course, he did not count on becoming the best friend of this Senju in question, nor running a village with him.

Blood used to flow smoothly, screams rang out from all sides, weapons roared against each other, and she looked as beautiful as ever in her armor and-.

"STOP!" The Uchiha suddenly shouts, standing up and planting both hands on his desk. Eyes wide open and hair tousled, he's grateful to be alone in the office and avoid having to give embarrassing explanations to anyone.

His inkwell spills onto the paperwork because of how he slams the desk, and the document which was already illegible because of Hashirama's handwriting now becomes even worse. The half covered by a huge black stain is given up for lost, and Madara holds his hair yet again, this time itching to rip it out of his head.

"SHIT!" He vowed to never think of her again, to deny that woman place and space in his mind, to eradicate her from his memories and exile her from any corner of his brain. For years he battled against that beautiful face captured in his thoughts, charming eyes, and the ferocity with which she tried to kill him over and over again in the name of the Senju.

She was not part of the clan, but her family allied with them to avoid being massacred for lack of decision. Hashirama worked with her side by side, and the woman dared to stand up to Madara on countless occasions when the leader had to attend to other fronts.

Never had he seen anyone but Hashirama or his stupid brother dare to look him in the face, avoiding his eyes of course, but with their heads held high and proudly puffing out their chests. "Now… what is the name of this warrior who dares attempt to end my life?" He had asked her with a smirk, expecting a perfect escape rather than a coherent answer.

"(Y/N)" she confessed to him before attacking, lunging with savagery and impressive speed at him, the only time she almost succeeded in slashing his neck. He had let his guard down in front of the woman, inviting her to dance a deadly tantrum from which he himself almost ended up losing his life.

The girl proved to be unbeatable, with will and strength of steel, always with an ace up her sleeve. At some point, the confrontations against the Senju took on a new flavor, giving the Uchiha the chance to see her, to fight against her, to have the privilege of admiring her raw power, and to be the recipient of all her assaults.

She was the only warrior he could not kill while holding her at the end of his weapon.

That time, (Y/N) had gotten careless after hours of combat, almost zero chakra left and few physical resources to use. Only the last several warriors were left standing, including the two of them. There had been hours of terrible exchanges, hard blows, and worse answers, but the girl gave an easy access entrance, an opportunity Madara did not hesitate to use.

When he had her on the ground, surrendered under his body and the strength of his hands, he could feel how she gave herself to destiny, how she submitted to whatever life wanted to happen to her, and that distracted him. The kunai was resting on her neck, all he had to do was press lightly, pierce the skin, and tear her throat as with countless enemies.

Instead, his hands were diverted by the warmth of her skin, the sharpness of her eyes, how soft her lips seemed even after hours of fighting and little to no water. Her presence became intoxicating, to the point where it managed to steal his goal of slaughter completely off his mind. She was the only opposing presence the Uchiha dared to forgive, and instead of finishing her off with the edge of his hatred, he allowed her to live.

He allowed her to live.

Her face has been hunting him ever since, unintentionally etched on his Sharingan and chasing him even with closed eyes. That was their last confrontation before the peace treaty, and he never knew what became of her once the war ended, feeling incapable of asking Hashirama about her whereabouts.

He felt fortunate to have had the privilege of witnessing her, meeting her, fighting as an equal opponent against her, yet that was all. He decided to ignore the reminders of (Y/N)’s presence in his mind, to bury her in the depths of times that are no more, and allow himself to move on without regretting not enquiring about her, searching for her.

Odds are that, if he did, she would spit in his face.

The man looks at the ruined sheet and decides to try and fix it, not to give up in the face of adversity caused by horrible penmanship and bad luck. He approaches Hashirama's desk and proceeds to rummage through all the visible and hidden contents in hopes of finding a copy. If the Hokage followed his advice and instructions, if he deigned to listen to Tobirama's damned recommendations, then he should have written it twice.

Or so he hopes.

Papers fly here and there as his frustration mounts, that wonderful dream of finishing his pending assignment looking farther and farther away, embarrassing decorations from his best friend raining down on the floor. He lets out another angry scream, thankful again to be alone in the room, pounding on the wood to the point of breaking it completely.

Shit.

"Bad day?" A female voice asks, and it sounds way too close for him to have imagined it. He knows that voice, yet it is not a petulant memory from the past, but an actual event in the same room. Memories come flooding back, the same tone he heard over and over again when she tried to impale him with her techniques. It takes him a minute before he dares to look up, but when he does, he understands not to be imagining anything.

"You look bad, need a hand?" he can't answer, can't find words to speak, and feels heat rising to his cheeks. It's one thing to see the girl you like fighting against you and always in a context of death and destruction, yet a totally different one is to appreciate her after years, casually dressed and with no deadly intentions.

(Y/N) looks even more beautiful than how he remembers her, stunning body covered by civilian garments, coaxing eyes looking at him with a tone of laughter on her wonderful face. The lack of armor allows him to admire the gorgeousness of her curves, how smooth her skin looks, and-.

"Madara?" She shakes him out of his stupor with a snap of her fingers, forcibly bringing him back to earth and landing on his ass. He blinks a few times and produces a few babbles before finding coherence inside his head again.

"Yeah, no, I mean... (Y/N)?"

"The one and only." She smiles harmoniously, her face beaming with the gesture and making him reassess whether he is dreaming or not. "I was instructed to bring this to you, you know how politics works." She hands over a sealed scroll, one the Uchiha receives with clumsy hands. He ends up having to take off his gloves for accurate finger control, opening the delivery's contents and feeling his soul returning to his body.

"Tobirama figured it would be beneficial for you, he didn't have much hope for the Hokage's work." She simply explains with a relaxed posture, like not having a care in the world. While Madara feels like he might pee his pants at how intimidatingly beautiful he finds his wife... the, woman, she seems totally unaffected.

He confirms this is the document he screwed up, but it's a legible, polished version, traced by the albino's handwriting and thoughts, proofread probably about three times before having the final product. Composure returns, and he feels like an idiot for the scene he put together, such simple solutions delivered by the angel in front of him.

"I see you're still as fierce as ever, huh? You should learn to control that anger, dear. War is over and life is beautiful." The woman winks and pats his arm, smiling again before turning and heading for the door.

It's now or never.

"WOULDYOULIKETOHAVEADRINKWITHME?!" The question sounds more like a barked demand than an invitation, but it gets (Y/N) to look back at him with amusement. She comes closer again, each step executed with both grace and elegance, making Madara feel like a little boy in front of the love of his life.

Is she the love of his life? Probably, yes.

"Are you asking me out, Uchiha?" she purrs mischievously, savoring the taste of having her former enemy basically at her feet. Madara never felt so vulnerable, and he hates every second it took him to work up the courage to ask her out. Impulses are not always good, and just as he is about to retract his proposal, the woman invades his personal space to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"When and where, Madara?"

EXAMPLE OF A SPECIAL AND UNIQUE ADDED SCENARIO

[wishitweresummer]

Now What Do We Use (Dream x GeorgeNotFound x Sapnap)

Word count: 4819

((This is from my series Glass House!! Next part is Now Let Me Explain.))

Warning: Restraints and intense tickles! Safeword use. Feet tickling. Tickle tools.

Dream cursed under his breath. He had snooped again. It was an accident like last time, but he still felt a little bad. He stared at the tab he had just clicked out of and analyzed the scenario he was in.

What were the chances George had left this open on his computer specifically for him to find? Pretty high, he decided. He clicked back onto the tab and scanned the contents, forgetting entirely what he had even needed the other boy’s computer for.

It was George’s Amazon wishlist. Dream’s eyes scanned the items. They were…a strange mix of items. At first glance he had assumed a few of them were things George would want to be tickled with, but he huffed in amusement when he realized it was every single thing.

With a few clicks, he shared the wishlist to his own account. He headed back to his own room and sent a quick text to summon Sapnap.

On his own phone, he pulled up the wishlist and moved the entire thing into his shopping cart. He whistled at the total.

“Bougie bitch…”, he whispered.

Amazon Cart 6 Items

Subtotal: $750.01

Sun&Lion V2 Deep Tissue Massage Gun

Natural Eagle Feathers 10-16 inch Turkey Pheasant

PHILIPS Sonicare DiamondClean 9000 Connected Rechargeable Electric Power Toothbrush 2-Pack, Black + White - Bluetooth

Glamzy Baby Massage Oil 100mL with Almond Oil, Aloe Vera, Calendula Oil, and Macadamia

WYNDEL Comb Silicone Hairbrush Shampoo Brush Scalp Massage

RHOS Paddle Hairbrush

“What’s up?”, Sapnap asked from the doorway. Dream grinned and waved him over, tossing him his phone when he got close.

“Gogy let me use his computer but accidentally left open a tab with his Amazon wishlist on it.”, he used air quotes for ‘accidentally’ to make Sapnap grin as he joined him on the bed.

“He’s rich, he can just buy th-whoa! This is almost a thousand dollars with shipping Dream!”, Sapnap laughed and leaned against him as he scrolled through the cart. “Baby oil?”.

“Pretty sure it makes you more ticklish.”.

“What about the hairbrush?”.

“I think for his feet.”, Dream said as he made a scrubbing motion. “Same as the scalp massager thing.”. Sapnap cringed with his entire body at the thought.

“Holy shit.”, he muttered. The idea of either tools being pressed to his own sensitive soles made him shake his head. “George is crazy.”. Dream laughed and nudged him.

“Imagine how he would react if we did it to him.”.

“He’d be so loud.”, Sapnap grinned. “Buy it.”.

“Huh? We can split it.”.

“Buy. It.”, Sapnap shoved him.

“Fine fine.”.

~•~

Two day delivery.

In the meantime, Dream and Sapnap brushed up on their knowledge for a few of the tools they were confused about. Where exactly to put the baby oil. Places they could use the scalp massager. Where the vibrating toothbrushes would work best.

After a loose strategy meeting on a lazy afternoon, they ambushed George.

“What are you doing?!”, he yelled as he fought against the two of them. As always, his strength was nothing compared to them. He shrieked in fear as one of his wrists was captured in a cuff and attached to the top corner of his bed. Instantly, he broke into giggles. “No no please no!”, he begged.

Of course, it fell on deaf ears. In no time, the boy was writhing helplessly in his restraints. In a t-shirt and shorts, but feeling naked. He scrunched his, newly freed, toes in the open air.

“Hush now. We gotcha.”, Sapnap said. George was wracked with nervous giggling as Dream left the room.

“Is it just us?”, he asked in a delirious haze.

“No, idiot. He’s getting your gifts.”.

“Gifts?”.

Dream came back with a big Amazon box. George’s giggles faded away into silence.

“Does that look mean you know what’s in here?”.

“No way.”, he whispered. His cheeks flamed and he squirmed helplessly in their gazes.

“Oh yes, Georgie. We found your Amazon wishlist.”. George was stunned into silence.

~•~

Dream waved the massage gun in the air. George shuddered in his restraints. He had never actually felt the tickle of a massage gun before, but it looked brutal in the videos he saw online.

“Alright so…I think it will work here.”, Dream said as he grabbed George’s knee and pressed the head of the gun into the sensitive muscle of his inner thigh. The boy whimpered. Dream grinned and switched it on.

George’s vision nearly blacked as every nerve in his leg was lit up with an intense pulse of ticklish electricity. The spot the head was pressed into pulsed quickly and his entire leg shook with the force. A stunted yelp slipped from his lips, but his lungs weren’t able to keep up with the force of laughter trying to break out. Nothing had ever tickled this badly. He convulsed silently, completely mindless to the feeling. And then…it stopped.

“Oh, it died?”, Dream asked as he pulled back the gun. George burst into hysterical cackles, the feeling in his leg still making him buzz. Sapnap chuckled and creeped closer to the head of the bed.

“No no!! No way! Fuck! You can’t do that again!! No! That was crazy!! Oh god! Guys, seriously!!”, he blubbered through his laughter. There was no fucking way he would survive that evil thing touching him again.

“Huh? No way! George, this thing was so expensive and you wanted it!”. The boy squeaked in embarrassment, unable to calm down at all.

“Return it!!”. The two laughed at the dramatics. George dropped his head back against the pillow and let the dizzy giggles bubble out of him. Dream plugged the massage gun into the wall and left it charging on the bedside table.

“We’ll have to come back to that later.”. George whined through his giggles.

“Please, I really can’t handle that. You have to listen to me.”, he had a cute little tinge of delirium to his voice.

Sapnap leaned over the side of the bed and popped back up with two long feathers.

“Should we start out soft then?”.

~•~

Soft might have sounded nice, but George truly thought he was going to die. With one delicate feather being flossed through his toes and the other teasing under his shirt sleeve into his armpit, he was shaking with desperate laughter. His nerves sparked under the teasing touch and he squirmed as wildly as he could. It was no use.

“Please please oh god please!”, he babbled through his laughter.

“But Georgie, it’s so soft!”.

He squealed loudly as Sapnap teased it against his ear, flushing in embarrassment at his own reaction.

“Oh, that’s right!! Your ears!!”. Sapnap put his palm on George’s forehead and pressed his head back into the pillow. “Here we go!”. George let out a wail of anguish, then collapsed into high pitched laughter. Dream grinned as he came to a stop and started crawling up George’s body to get a better look.

“Please!!”, he cried. He was shaking at the gentle torture.

“So cute…”, Dream coo’ed. The feather traced around and around the inside of his red ear. He bucked and squeaked, burning with humiliation.

“Fuck you!!”. He tried to shake his head, but it was impossible with Sapnap’s stupid hand clapped over his forehead.

“Oh, Georgie…”, Dream tsked and teased his own feather along the creases of the squirmy boy's neck. He squealed loudly, making the other two giggle. “Wow, your fancy expensive feathers were worth it huh?”.

“Shut…up!!”, he managed through his bubbly laughter.

George’s forehead was released and he jerked his head up, then dropped it back to the pillow with delirious giggles, rubbing his ear against it. The feather was waved teasingly in the air over his clothed chest and tummy before Dream tugged up his shirt to reveal it. He whimpered.

Normally, he was tortured with a rough touch. Mean squeezes and grabs to make him scream. The idea of a feather against his skin had never really scared him, but was interesting enough for him to look at online. He’d never bought it though. He figured it wouldn’t actually do much.

Now…well what the fuck was he thinking? Since the moment one of those dumb feathers traced his skin he hadn’t stopped jumping or shaking for one second. It was a sharp feeling. His sensitive nerves prickled underneath it and he could feel his senses heightening in defense. Not only could he not handle this, but he knew it would make the rest of his night worse.

He squealed when the tip of the feather teased into his bellybutton. He jerked his hips to the side roughly, but a large hand grabbed hold and pressed him to the bed. When he wasn’t able to squirm away from the feeling and it persisted, he threw his head back and burst into squeaky laughter.

“The feathers make him like…a squeaky toy.”, Sapnap noted amusedly. He cried out at the tease, making them both laugh.

“Please!”, he whined out the plea. Sapnap’s feather joined Dream in clumsily trying to shove into his bellybutton and his entire body jolted as he giggled hysterically. The noise was light and frantic.

“I thought soft tickling didn’t work that well on you?”, Sapnap asked. George was gasping through his giggles and shaking his head. “He’s so cute like this.”.

They trailed the feathers all over his body. When teased behind his knees, he squealed every single time. Dream and Sapnap giggled as they took turns poking the feathers under his knees and making him make funny noises.

~•~

“C’mon Georgie let us in!”, Dream giggled as he fought with the wiggling toes.

“Please! Please!”, he cried out frantically as he jerked his feet around and scrunched his toes in defense. Were they trying to kill him?

Suddenly at the same time, Dream and Sapnap both got their vibrating toothbrushes in between the last two toes on both of George’s feet. The sounds he made were incredible. They dropped their jaws in awe as they watched George convulse on the bed. The laughter pouring out of him was unlike anything they had heard before. It was shamelessly loud and desperate.

The vibrating sensation was unfamiliar and startling. No amount of squirming could free him and he felt himself lose his mind to the feeling. The toothbrushes were decidedly evil. They both prodded around curiously between his quivering toes and he screamed in ticklish agony.

“Whoa!”, Sapnap laughed. George thrashed in his restraints and fell into uncontrollable laughter. His body and mind screamed for him to beg for mercy, to beg for them to go one at a time, to beg for them to stop. But, he didn’t.

“Fuck!”, he squeaked out. His face was a pretty shade of crimson.

“These work pretty well, Georgie.”, Dream said with a grin. He quickly touched the head of the vibrating brush to each of George’s toe pads and he let out a stream of high pitched cries and squeaks.

Sapnap turned and started climbing up the bed, waving the still-vibrating toothbrush at George.

“Nonono!!!”.

“Oh, yes.”, he smirked. The vibrating head touched inside George’s little bellybutton and he screeched. “Ooh!!”.

“Get out!!!”, he yelled, then burst into hysterical giggling. Dream peeked around Sapnap’s shoulder.

“Oh he sounds so cute when you do that.”. George squealed and bucked, but Sapnap was relentless in twisting the head around slowly to find the best reactions. He threw his head back into the pillow and bubbly laughter poured out. “He sounds happy!”, Dream exclaimed.

“Well, he is. He’s getting his tickles!”, Sapnap smirked back at Dream while he twisted the head of the toothbrush just right to make George squeal again.

“Shut up!!”, George shrieked, horrified at the words. A panicked burst of squeaky giggles escaped him as he jerked back and forth. “Sapnap!!”.

Dream laughed and leaned around Sapnap, trailing the vibrating head of his own toothbrush up George’s ticklish side. He squealed helplessly. He teased it closer and closer to his armpit and the boy screamed in terror.

“I hate you guys!!”.

“Oh, well that was rude.”, Dream scoffed and dove his toothbrush right into his armpit. Sapnap followed quickly. They both laughed at George’s violent reaction. Silent screams wracked his chest as he bucked and convulsed helplessly. He finally caught a little bit of air and wailed with laughter. It was frantic and beautiful. “Cute…”, Dream murmured.

The two made sure to thoroughly treat every inch of George’s ticklish armpits to the little vibrating heads of their toothbrushes before moving on. The tickles were so intense and focused, it made it hard for George to catch any air to laugh or beg. Mercilessly, they smiled on as he gasped and choked and cried.

Luckily, they knew this was what he truly wanted. As crazy as that might seem to them sometimes.

Eventually, they flicked off the toothbrushes and allowed him a break. George’s body went limp against the bed and flustered giggles broke free. Dream shushed him gently and pet his damp hair. Sapnap almost started to help get rid of the ghost tickles, but thought better of it. He poked the tip of George’s red nose.

“The ghosts are tickle tickle tickling you, huh?”, he teased. George nodded through his delirious giggling. The words were feathery and lined with sugar, sparking excitement across his nerves. Against his will, he squirmed at nothing. Sapnap coo’ed, making everything worse.

“Silly…”, George mumbled between giggles, barely thinking. Dream and Sapnap laughed.

It was so freeing to be known like this. George relaxed into the fluffy feelings and let his bubbly giggles take over. Here, he could be light and dumb and young. Dream wiped his tears away and he closed his eyes, humming. The cold thumbs against his burning hot cheeks felt refreshing.

“Sweet boy.You are silly.”, Dream grinned. George nuzzled up into the hand. Sapnap and Dream looked at each other in surprise. Soft little giggles were sneaking out from between his lips. Sapnap whined.

“He’s being so cute.”, he murmured.

Suddenly, he grabbed hold of both of George’s sides to make him squeal loudly.

“Stop being so cute.”.

“Sap!!!”, he cried and burst into crazed laughter. “No!! Please!!”. Dream laughed and poked into his ribs, making him shriek. “Dream!!”.

“We won’t stop unless you stop being cute!!”. George threw his head back into the pillow and cackled loudly.

Sapnap held up the electric toothbrush and turned it back on, making George scream in terror. They both laughed.

~•~

“Alright, what’s next?”, Dream asked as he got off the bed and stretched. Sapnap dug through the box. They both ignored George’s breathless giggles and whimpers.

“Hairbrush and this super fancy baby oil.”, Sapnap said as he held up the items. George whined loudly. “Oh, you excited?”.

“Shut up.”, George said quietly. He scrunched his toes at the sight of the hairbrush being inspected by Sapnap. He had only ever felt a hairbrush against his foot once before and he had nearly hurt both himself and Dream at how hard he thrashed and screamed. He snuck a look over to the boy in question and then closed his eyes and shoved his face into the pillow at the shit-eating grin he was met with.

“Oh Georgie.”, he coo’ed. “George loves the hairbrush! Wow…we’ve never tried it with the oil though have we? Huh, Georgie? You must be so excited!”.

“Dream, shut up.”, he gritted out, horribly flustered. Dream peeked back and laughed at the nervous toes.

“Stretching out your piggies in preparation?”, Dream asked. George squawked at the words. He laughed and ruffled his hair. George was giggling frantically, unable to calm down. His sweaty hair stuck up everywhere from the ruffling and he tried to squirm away, but failed.

“There’s only one.”, Sapnap added.

“He can only handle one. You use it and I’m going to sit on him so he doesn’t squirm too much and hurt himself.”, Dream said as he climbed back onto the bed and straddled George’s waist facing his legs. George whimpered, giggles finally calming down as the sudden reality of his situation set in. He wiggled his body a little in protest and earned a quick squeeze to his thigh.

“Dream!”, he screeched. His butterflies were never going to go away at this point. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”, he cried desperately.

“Sure you can!”.

“No, it’s going to be too bad!!”, he whined and flopped his head back into the pillow a few times.

Dream and Sapnap froze and stared at each other, waiting for a safeword drop. One of George’s feet was shaking with nervous energy and Sapnap grabbed it to stop it. A flurry of excited squeaky giggles flew from George’s mouth and they both grinned.

“These little feet are already so ticklish! What’s gonna happen when I put the baby oil on George? Huh?”.

“Don’t!!”, he cried. No safeword, though.

“Let’s see what happens without it first.”.

“No! Get away!!”, he screamed. Still, no safeword. Dream and Sapnap nodded at each other; he was fine.

Despite his threat, Sapnap grabbed the baby oil and clicked it open. George yelped at the sound.

“No no no please!!! C’mon!!”. Sapnap coated his hands and started gently massaging the oil into his left foot. Instantly, George burst into frantic giggles.

“Get between his toes too.”, Dream added helpfully. George squealed as Sapnap listened.

“Alright Georgie, are you ready?”.

“No!! Oh fuck oh fuck!!!”, George thrashed as much as he could, but Dream’s weight was on his hips. “Please I can’t take it!!! Sapnap please!!!”, he begged. There was a real edge of panic to his voice. “Don’t do it!!! I’m begging you!!!”.

If anyone else was tickling him, George probably wouldn’t let himself get into that level of franticness knowing it would scare most people into stopping. His two best friends knew better.

Sapnap giggled as he grabbed a hold of the foot and scrubbed the hairbrush against the slippery sole. George screwed his eyes shut and screamed bloody murder. The ticklish feeling was intense and unstoppable. It shot up through his leg and threw his entire body into a squirming panic. Every nerve in his system spiked at the feeling. Before he could suck in a breath to laugh, his lungs were pushing out another scream. It was a desperate and helpless noise. The ticklish feeling was overwhelming. Fresh tears streaked down his hot cheeks as he shook his head uselessly. His lungs burned a little with the force of his screaming and he felt dizzy at the lack of air. Just as he thought he was going to die, Sapnap stopped. George sucked in a large breath of air and exploded with laughter. Dream smirked back at him.

“Wow! That worked really well! Georgie, are you okay?”, Sapnap laughed as he stood up to see George’s face. It was impossibly red and covered in tears. He could only shake his head ‘no’ as his laughter faded into delirious giggling. In Sapnap’s hand, the foot was still twitching from the aftershocks. He teased the brush across the toes and grinned as George let out a choked shriek. “So ticklish!”.

Dream grinned and tilted his head in the direction of George’s right foot. As soon as Sapnap grabbed it George was thrown into a giggly panic again.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!”, he cried through his giggles. He squirmed as much as he could, but it was barely any. Sapnap had left the cap on the baby oil open so George had no warning before it was suddenly being massaged into his sensitive foot and the surprise made him yelp. Dream and Sapnap laughed.

“You have to be the most dramatic person on this planet!”, Dream said, amusedly.

“Do you wanna try this?!”, George asked, voice pitching strangely as he spoke through his giggling.

“No fucking way.”, Dream shook his head quickly. He looked over and laughed when he noticed Sapnap subconsciously responding with a head shaken ‘no’ as well. This would be way too intense for either of them. Maybe if he was prepared and ready, and definitely not restrained, he would give it a try. But, right now after the display George had just put on? No shot. He’s pretty certain it would kill him. He could almost feel the prickly tingles of ghost tickles along his soles just thinking about it.

George’s piercing scream broke him out of his thoughts. Sapnap scrubbed at the captured foot and grinned as the boy seemingly lost his mind.

This was something George was getting to experience more and more as Dream and Sapnap learned to put their mercy to the side for him. His brain switched off and he gave into his instincts, just screaming and crying. The ticklish feeling was maddening. The sensations were quick and startling, shooting through his body and making him squirm like a live wire. His foot flexed and twitched and trembled as Sapnap held it in place for his torment. He was helpless to it, to them. Just…tickles. It tickled. It tickled horribly.

A tortured scream tore through his body, sounding desperate enough to make Sapnap stop. It was unexpected, making him cry out with a shrill pathetic noise.

“Are you okay?”, Dream was asking somewhere above him. George opened his eyes and blinked away the tears. The room was bright. The question was confusing for some reason. He was still gasping for air and not sure how to respond. Yes? No? He was being tickled. “George?”, Dream tried again. Giggles spilled from his lips and he squirmed under the attention, confused and dizzy.

“It tickles.”, he squeaked out. Maybe that would be good enough? Dream smiled.

“Oh does it?”, he teased. The grip on his foot tightened and he was suddenly thrown back into his wild screaming as Sapnap touched that hairbrush back to his sensitive sole. Sapnap wasn’t going easy, really abusing his weakness. George gulped down air in an attempt to laugh, but the tickling was too intense. Screams tore from his throat before he could stop them and he was helpless to the feeling. His leg twitched violently, but was held in place by a large hand.

Together, they safely took him apart. George was allowed to thrash and scream to his heart's content without a thought.

Eventually, the feeling disappeared and George fell limp. Weak giggles broke through, but George couldn’t squirm at the ghost tickles anymore.

“So…what’s this?”, Sapnap’s voice asked from somewhere. A bunch of dull points pressed into his ticklish and over-sensitive sole and he squealed.

“What is that!!”, he yelled in panic. Both boys were laughing.

“It’s some kind of scalp massager for like, shampoo. But George wanted to be tickled with it.”, Dream explained.

Oh, they weren’t even going to let him recover.

George burst into laughter as Sapnap curiously pressed the massager all over his foot and toes. The sensation wasn’t as intense as the hairbrush, but it was driving him crazy.

“Fuck!”.

“It works pretty well!”. George shook his head through his laughter.

“That feels crazy!!”, he yelled.

“Look, Dream because they are a little pointy I have to be careful, but his ticklish little foot is totally freaking out!”.

“Shut up!!!”, George cried. Sapnap teased the shampoo massager across all of his toes, making him squeal.

“Be nice, Georgie.”, Dream warned and squeezed both of his thighs a few times to make him scream.

“Please!! Dream, fuck!”.

His thighs trembled in fear of another attack. Dream dusted his fingertips against them teasingly to make him jump. Sapnap paused his movements, watching curiously.

“I won’t get them too bad. Not before the massage gun.”, he purred. George shivered at the memory and glanced over where the device was charging. He whimpered.

Without warning, Sapnap teased the shampoo massager back down George’s sole and he squealed loudly.

“I wanna try!”, Dream said as he hopped up and moved to the bottom of the bed near Sapnap.

“No…”, George whined. Sapnap passed him the massager and he gently pressed it into George’s other sole. The boy giggled hysterically and squirmed. “No!”. Dream laughed and teased it along the wiggly toes.

“We gotta oil up these little piggies more often, huh?”. George threw his head back and cackled, affected by the words. “Oh, he’s such a goner.”.

“Get away!”, he cried through his laughter.

Dream and Sapnap passed the massager back and forth, tickling the bottom of George’s oily feet. When one didn’t have the massager, they would play with his toes or skitter their nails into the soles. Without a way to get used to the feeling, George just lost his mind again to the tickles. His laughter was bubbly and helpless. When he could, he would beg;

“Please!”, he tried. “Guys! No more!”, didn’t help either. “Why?!”, he cried. “Fuck!”, it was too much. He tried everything.

Everything besides what would actually stop them, of course.

~•~

“It’s time for the finale!!!”, Dream exclaimed as he unplugged the massage gun and gestured to it. George shook his head weakly.

“You can’t.”, he insisted.

“George, people use those all the time to massage themselves after working out!”, Sapnap said.

“Give it to one of them then!”, he shot back quickly, making them both laugh.

“You’re such an idiot.”, Dream said fondly and grabbed George’s knee. “Alright Sapnap, where do I press it in?”.

They both ignored George’s frantic squirming and begs for mercy as Sapnap scrolled through directions on his phone.

“Okay, try the muscle above his knee and kind of inner thigh.”.

“Got it!”, Dream said. He turned it on and George yelped in fear.

“Don’t do this to me!!!”, he cried.

As soon as the head of the gun touched his thigh again, he was thrashing against the bed with a silent scream. The pulse of ticklish vibrations went through his entire body and shook him to the core. Dream worked it down to find the most sensitive area and one spot tore a piercing scream from George.

“I’m such a good masseuse.”, Dream muttered amusedly, moving around the gun. A sharp laugh pierced the air as George found his breath. It was quick and loud, almost scaring the two. Mostly, he was just thrashing in silence as the overwhelming tickles took him over. Every laugh that fought its way out was strained and desperate.

He lifted up the gun and watched him carefully. Silently, Dream and Sapnap watched George shake with breathy giggles.

“I hate you guys…”, he managed out. The two grinned at each other; he was fine.

“Okay, anywhere else?”.

“Yeah, try higher up on the inside.”.

George couldn’t find it in himself to fight it, he just let himself scream and fall back into desperate silent thrashing as the vibrating head of the gun shook every nerve in his body. It was so intense in the one spot, it felt like he was being tickled from the inside out. His vision blacked so he squeezed his eyes shut, mind swimming in colors. Sharp cackles escaped him over and over again between his silent screams. This might be the worst tickling he’s ever felt.

~•~

If you asked, George would have no idea how long the two tickle monsters tormented his ticklish thighs with that massage gun. They tickled him out. Definitely.

His outbursts of crazed laughter were more and more spread out until he was just convulsing and gasping.

“Skeppy!”, he squeaked out, finally. And it came to a stop.

George went completely limp against the bed. His legs were still shaking from the vibrations, but he just let it happen. He kept his eyes closed and just let Dream and Sapnap take over for him. He relaxed and caught his breath while they un-cuffed him, put him under the covers, and snuggled up on either side of him.

“Wow Georgie, you really held out.”, Dream said softly. He finally let out a tired little giggle and turned his face into Sapnap’s shoulder in embarrassment. The two laughed at him.

“That was torture…”, he murmured quietly into Sapnap’s shoulder. He tried hiding his grin into the younger’s shoulder since he didn’t have the energy to fight it off.

‘He’s smiling.’, Sapnap mouthed to Dream. They both beamed.

Their adorable best friend. So sweet to trust them with this. Tickled to the brink of death, yet still cuddling with them and giddy. George snaked his hand back and grabbed Dream’s shirt, tugging him closer as he laid his head on Sapnap’s chest. He burned with embarrassment, but just nuzzled in and let himself relax. Dream wrapped around him and soon, he was pressed like he wanted to be between his best friends. The ones who knew him more than anybody. Here, he was home.

Together, they drifted off. Warm and happy. George, still buzzing from the events of the night.

[unwoundcorridors]

prompt #19: stress

pairing: narcissa/hermione word count: 551

❈ written for @sapphicmicrofics ❈

—

A chess board sat in front of Hermione’s face. Not directly, a few feet away on the coffee table, but it was all she saw while gentle fingers trailed through her hair, lightly playing with the curls. Her head lay in Narcissa’s lap, the back of it resting against the older woman’s abdomen, and she could feel the rise and fall of it as Narcissa breathed through her diaphragm.

She’d lost horrifically to Narcissa, and Hermione was sure that her chess pieces would hold a grudge over her for God knew how long this time because of how she hadn’t listened to them like she should have, yet… even in losing the chess match, every remaining tendril of stress had still evaporated as she simply enjoyed spending time with Narcissa again. Even if she hadn’t quite learned how to improve her chess strategy, despite Narcissa doing her best to teach her.

“You don’t seem as tightly wound up now,” Narcissa observed quietly, every so often tenderly scratching Hermione’s scalp. Hermione made a little contented noise when Narcissa’s fingers brushed against a certain spot, and she wriggled her toes in her socks a bit as Narcissa noticed, keeping her fingers in the area and giving it further attention. They were both silent for a few minutes, and Hermione’s eyes began to close until Narcissa’s touch left her, and she shifted her position so that she was looking up at the ceiling, towards Narcissa’s face, instead of the chess board.

Even from this position, Narcissa was gorgeous while she appeared to look out of a window. Hermione lifted a hand and traced the underside of the other woman’s jawline, drawing Narcissa’s attention back to her. Eyes the colour of ice, yet holding not a shred of frigidity to them, looked down at Hermione, and she idly wondered if they could stay like this forever. Narcissa’s fingers wrapped around Hermione’s wrist, bringing her movements to a halt.

“It’s occurred to me that a year ago, I never thought we would talk again after what happened,” Narcissa said, tangling and untangling their fingers together as she spoke. “Let alone…”

She gestured to their present intimate, cosy sitting arrangement. Or laying, in Hermione’s case.

“We were the unwitting makers of our own heartache, weren’t we?” Hermione said, twining their fingers together and bringing both of their hands to rest on her stomach. “At least we figured it out in the end.”

With her other hand, Narcissa traced the back of her fingertips just above Hermione’s eyebrow that wasn’t hidden by her fringe. Her lips barely moved, but in the silence of the sitting room, fire still not kindled in the hearth, Hermione heard her clearly. “Yes. I’m loath to admit it now, but we did need that time apart. However much it pained me to not speak to you for so long.”

Hermione hummed. “Likewise.”

Turning again so that she faced nothing but the clothes covering Narcissa’s abdomen, Hermione took a slow breath, then let herself do something she’d always wanted to: burrow in to the woman she’d come to love, despite every bit of history between them, and surrender to a comfort that she’d craved yet never before allowed herself to seek out.

Narcissa’s fingers, stroking her hair and her face, lulled her to sleep.

[eight-freakin-gids]

Before we get to see the Bloomburrow Commander previews, I want to get my predictions in for what planeswalkers we'll see in the remaining 3 Commander decks as well as what their fursonas will be. Here are some of my considerations, but also a Read More because this got a bit long:

We know for sure each deck is going to have one planeswalker, and we already know Tamiyo is in the Bant group hug deck. The Jace, Nissa, and Liliana we've seen are not in the decks

I don't think we'll be seeing more than one planeswalker card of the same type among all of the set, so I am assuming the precons won't have any other Jace, Liliana, Nissa, or Tamiyo planeswalkers.

I would guess that there will be an effort to keep the color distribution even, so that fans of every color can get at least one planeswalker (though not necessarily a mono-colored one).

I am assuming that the planeswalkers in the precons will not be radically expensive or be multi-format competitive staples. It wouldn't look good for wizards if people bought out precons just to scalp them for chase rares (anymore than that may or may not already be happening, idk)

For the most part, I am trying to keep the fursonas to the animal races we've already seen in the Bloomburrow previews and the story. The exception is if there's a very obvious option that doesn't feel out of place.

I am sticking to planeswalkers who are alive and have not been confirmed to be desparked (despite the fact that they included Tamiyo. I'm already indulging with one prediction, I can't get my hopes up for a new Gideon)

I'm inferring what each precon's strategy is solely by looking at the commander.

Since the Jeskai deck has a 1 power theme, I am predicting we will see a Bird version of Elspeth, Sun's Champion. Specifically, I would guess a dove. This is both something I would really want, but also something I think has a very good chance of happening. After all, the Bloomburrow birds are a chivalric knightly order, so Elspeth will fit right in. Not to mention that as an angel she would be one of the few people able to seamlessly transition to a different all-flying creature type. Sun's Champion is a great card in the format, evidenced by it making it into other precon lists. Theoretically any Elspeth or any 1/1 token producing Planeswalker can fill the role, but I think this is the best option. There is admittedly some anachronism between depicting this card as modern Elspeth while the name references the Theros story, but I think that's something that can be ignored. Look, I just really want to see bird Elspeth, okay?

The RG precon is the only other one with Red, so we gotta have a Red planeswalker here. There aren't a lot of planeswalkers who synergize with this deck's strategy. Daretti only works with half of the deck, and Jaya, Fiery Negotiator isn't doing much aside from making tokens with Prowess. So, I propose Lizardfolk Chanda, either Flamecaller or Fire Artisan. Since the lizardfolk are associated with fire magic, this one's pretty obvious. Chandra, Flamecaller has a sweeper effect which doesn't destroy your indestructible enchantment/artifact creatures (though it can kill your commander, point not in this one's favor). Flamecaller's other loyalty abilities are fine as well. Fire Artisan is very linear, but does function as a card advantage engine. Torch of Defiance isn't too powerful for commander, but I think it sees too much play elsewhere for it to be a good inclusion here.

For the BG squirrels + tokens precon, my pick is Garruk, Primal Hunter as a badger. We haven't seen any badgers in Bloomburrow aside from Hugs, but if anyone deserves to be Big, it's Garruk. A raccoon would also probably work, but wouldn't be my first pick. I choose Primal Hunter specifically because it makes tokens on it plus ability, and can draw cards as well. And, it's among the most played Garruk planeswalkers in the Commander.

We'll see how this post ages in a few days